Jack Be Quick Ch 08

Don't start reading here, without reading the other seven chapters. Reading the last chapter before you start at the beginning, just isn't right, somehow. Stand up for truth, justice, and the American way, like Superman. Be a hero. Do the right thing. You'll feel better for it.

Besides, if you think this will tell you who the bad guy is so you can spoil the story for your friends, I've got a surprise for you.

*****

There wasn't a lot to tell Trudy when I got back to her house. She was bubbling over with plans she'd made, scheduling everything so carefully, and including all her friends who would be home from college. When I'd called her on my way to lunch, she said that tonight we were going on a double date with Tom and Annette. She was really looking forward to it, because she had hardly seen her brother during the past four years. She met Annette when Tom started to date her, and I knew that she liked her from the things she'd said about her, but back then Trudy was barely into her teens and the age difference meant that they didn't have a lot in common. So this was her chance to get to know them all over again, hear about what they'd been doing, how their jobs were going, their plans, their dreams, everything. I had a hunch that she might get to know Tom and Annette very, very well.

We had dinner at a restaurant where Tom and Annette used to eat when they were dating, and then headed out to a night club across town. Tom was driving. At the night club he started to get out of the car so the valet could park it, but the valet asked if we would please stay in the car and drive it where the men in white coveralls would direct him. "What's going on? Why aren't you parking our car?"

"I'm sorry, sir. A guest collapsed just inside the main entrance, and we've got to keep this area clear for the ambulance. If you'll just let them direct you, you can park and then a van will take your party around the back way, to the private party entrance. I'm sure it will take you only a minute, and of course we appreciate your cooperation during this emergency. Your cover charge will be waived and your party's first round of drinks will be on the house, as a token of our appreciation."

We were directed to a back parking lot. Sure enough, as soon as the car was parked, a dark colored van pulled up and we were assisted into it. Then it started moving, but it didn't go to a back entrance at all. Instead it headed out to a street in back of the parking lot, and then by a series of right and left turns to an old state highway that headed due west. I was pretty nervous and I knew that the others were starting to get suspicious. As I tried to speak to the driver, a man materialized from behind us. He'd been lying down in the cargo space behind the passenger seats, and he was holding a gun near Trudy's head. He calmly ordered me to hand over my gun, and while he held his gun on us, another man sat up back there and made his way around the end of the short passenger seat to frisk all four of us. Trudy hadn't brought her gun, and Tom and Annette never had any guns, so the search didn't produce anything except cell phones, which he put into a bag. Then the first man man put his gun away and said, "In case it's not clear to you yet, you have been abducted. There's not much you can do about it. The window and door handles have all been removed, so you can't get out and you can't call for help. We have no plans to hurt any of you, so please just sit back and try to relax. I know this is a tense time for you and I apologize for spoiling your plans, but we'll try to make you as comfortable as we can."

"Where are you taking us?" asked Trudy.

"I can't tell you that, but I can assure you that you are perfectly safe and you will not be harmed in any way. But please don't try to resist because that might result in personal injury to one or more of you."

The van turned left, heading south of the highway over a narrow paved road that went past darkened farmland, from what little I could see in the side illumination from the headlights. There were no lights, no traffic, and no buildings that I could see. Suddenly the van turned right and went along an unpaved driveway, then bumped up onto some pavement. It was so pitch black out that there was nothing we could see until the van slowed to a stop alongside a set of steps that led up into an airplane. The right side door of the van was slid open and two men assisted us all up the steps into what turned out to be a lavishly appointed executive transport. A man and a woman showed us to seats that were arranged in sort of a conversation group, and helped us get the seat belts fastened. I heard the hollow 'bonk' that meant the entrance door was closed, and by that time we were moving. We taxied maybe a half mile and turned onto a runway, paused briefly and then took off with a 'whoosh.' But I heard other aircraft taking off nearby, and then I could see the glowing blowtorch effect of fighter jets firing their afterburners, one on our left and another on our right. With a loud howl they pulled up sharply and climbed almost vertically until we couldn't see them any more.

Our plane climbed for a long while and then leveled off, and a man wearing a dark suit strolled forward from a compartment aft of the main salon where we were seated. He walked straight ahead and then turned and sat down in a seat that faced aft, and as he turned to face us I could see who it was.

"Good evening, and welcome to an adventure that you can tell your grandkids about. You are guests of the United States Government, Executive Branch, Department of Justice, Federal Bureau of Investigation. You are traveling in one of several airplanes that are specially equipped for carrying cabinet officers and bureau chiefs. For national security reasons it's important to take high level government officials where they are going as fast as practical, to minimize their vulnerability to attack. I assure you that the CEO's of the world's largest corporations can't get their hands on anything that compares to this plane, either in comfort or in performance.

"Some of you have never met me before, so let me introduce myself. My name is Pete, and I am a Deputy to the Special Agent in Charge of the Boston regional FBI office. What you are going through right now is a bogus kidnapping that we concocted for your personal protection. Let me stress that. We are doing this to keep you four people safe. We'll have about three hours to talk en route, and I'm free to explain things to you that we couldn't discuss anyplace less secure than an isolated airplane cruising at 40,000 feet. By the time we land, you will understand more about some matters relating to our national security than any diplomats, including our own, or any news organizations. So sit back and relax in outrageous comfort while the cabin crew takes your orders for drinks and snacks. I'm going to have a quick word with the pilot. Then I'll be back and we'll have a conversation that will answer all of the questions you have, plus some that you never even thought of."

Pete got up and walked forward as our host and hostess came in and took drink orders. The hostess, Jill, encouraged us to try any wayout drinks that we'd never get to order in an ordinary bar. "I've worked some really posh places, and none of them had a bar as well supplied as the one on this plane. High level meetings don't always go well, and we try to help disgruntled officials to decompress on their way home so they won't take out their frustrations on their families. So if you want to try something you've only heard the name of, I'll mix it for you. And Jack and Trudy, we're flying so fast that time is accelerated, so you're both old enough to drink until we let down to land." We had to laugh at that. Trudy ordered a Virgin's Prayer, but I played it safe with a Bud Light. Tom ordered a Jack and soda, and Annette said she'd always wanted to try a Grasshopper.

As we all relaxed and realized that we'd probably never travel in such luxury again, all the shock and fear that the kidnap had generated just disappeared and left us in a slightly silly mood. I looked at Trudy and she smiled at me. "Were you in on this scam?" she asked.

"Sort of, but it hasn't been all fun and games. We really were in danger, so much so that it was embarrassing to the FBI. They've pulled out all the stops to keep us safe while they take care of the problem. I'm sure Pete will explain it all." As I said those words, Pete came back from the cockpit and resumed his seat.

"Now for your benefit, Tom and Annette, let me give you some background. Tom, I'm sure you knew that your sister started dating Jack in high school, and by graduation day they were deeply in love. One thing that we in the FBI have found is that almost every extraordinary act, good or bad, has its origin in some strong emotion, and we have a special respect for lovers because they'll do anything at all for love, whether it's the love of a fiancée or a spouse or a child, or even more abstract entities like God and country.

"About that same time a very secret project was in its conceptual stage. All that I can tell you about it is that its central objective is a totally new approach to national security, meaning not only governmental activities but also our economic system and businesses, large and small. The project would keep a lot of computer scientists busy, and we quietly evaluated several hundred candidates for the kind of jobs that IT people dream of. From those, a starting force of twenty was selected, and more were designated for the second wave, to be hired as the work got going hot and heavy. Qualities that were highly valued in the selection process were patriotism, ability to keep secrets, ability to get along with coworkers, and of course, extreme technical competence. Nobody cared how old they were, what they looked like, how they dressed, any of the things that interviewers usually look hard at. Of all the candidates, the youngest who made the cut for the first wave was Jack. I know you never worked with him, but take it from me that he's good at what he does!

"Then we, meaning the FBI, looked for an insider to be our eyes and ears in the labor pool, so we selected Jack. He was just out of high school, so we could easily do a thorough investigation of him. He had all the attributes we were looking for. And no one would suspect that the youngest guy in the room was our man. To investigate Jack we had to investigate Trudy, so she came along with the deal, and they were both put under contract to the FBI as consultants. We like that title, consultant. It can mean anything we want it to mean.

"What we hadn't expected was how quickly Jack made a name for himself. George, the lab supervisor, spotted his ability right away and gradually groomed him for promotion. Jack is now the coordinator of all the specialists working on the program, assigning their work, reviewing their progress, dealing with their problems, and making sure that the end product will be a wall to wall success, not a lumpy patchwork quilt.

"Okay, that's what happened to get this all going. Now for the exciting stuff. Believe me, we don't like excitement on a project as important as this one. Boredom is beautiful, but we haven't had much of it. Shortly after they became consultants, the first attempt was made to murder Jack and Trudy. We quickly pulled together a defensive plan, and in the course of executing it, Jack and Trudy came away unharmed and two very bad guys were killed. Our plan was good but it could work only if these two stayed calm and acted just right during this emergency, and they did their part to perfection."

Tom cut in, "Wait a minute. You're telling us that somebody actually tried to kill MY baby sister and her boyfriend? Really KILL them? This isn't just some worst case scenario? It really happened?

"You bet. They were real professional assassins, too. To our surprise and relief, these two young people distinguished themselves. The best of my agents couldn't do it any better. But nobody knew about it because we had to keep it secret. Any other questions?" Nobody spoke up, so Pete continued.

"Now about the attack and the people involved in it - let's start with Europe. The nations there are small but their nationalism is strong. Think of a tiny peapatch of worn out farmland, say, the size of Massachusetts, whose people think they're smarter and better than all their neighbors, and they can't wait to prove it. There's always turmoil there, because their two bit politicians make their living by keeping the pot boiling. It follows that there's never a shortage of spies over there. And where there are spies there are always guns for hire, trained killers who aren't loyal to any one nation. They compete for contracts from all the little countries.

"We expected that as the word spread through Europe about this new national security project, many of the European nations would want to disrupt it, or at least circumvent it, to help them get a leg up on the American market. So they might hire some expensive top guns to come here and attack key people working on the project. But making their first target Jack and Trudy came as a surprise. After the attack on Jack and Trudy failed, they scored their first successful disruption when George, our lab supervisor, was murdered."

"I thought he was killed in an auto accident," said Tom.

"So did we, at first. But it turned out to be a skillfully executed murder. The way it was done and covered up was a sign that the killers were absolutely world class. The big countries, like France, Spain, and Germany have their own secret organizations, but they have enough economic clout to deal openly with our government, and they never posed a threat to this project. But some of the smaller countries try to improve their positions by clandestine maneuvers, and getting top experts, like the people who killed George, is a problem for them. So we think that several small nations may have pooled their resources to hire one of the top contract outfits.

"If that shocks you, then maybe you'll be absolutely terrified about what happened next. One morning Jack dropped Trudy off at Harvard and was threading his way through morning traffic when a gang of hit men came after him. They tried to trap his car in traffic and then shoot him, and when he wriggled out of their trap they chased him and tried to machine gun him, right in the backyard of a police station."

Annette looked aghast. "They tried to murder Jack? Am I hearing you right?"

"You heard right. One man faked an injury to stop Jack, and two more, a driver and a machine gunner, tried to kill him."

"What happened?"

"Jack got out of the way of the machine gun bullets, and when they came back to finish him off, he shot and killed the gunner. The driver tried to get away but ran headon into a police car, and died later in the hospital."

"But what did Jack use to shoot him with? And what would Jack know about how to do that?"

"We trained him and Trudy. Look at them. Think of all the kids their age who have no idea which way is up. But Jack and Trudy are both brilliant, highly motivated young people who are deadly fast and accurate with their weapons. Jack's faster, Trudy's a little more accurate."

Annette looked as if she would explode before she could get the words out. "Trudy, you can't know how to shoot. He must be talking about somebody else! Tell him he's wrong!"

Trudy laughed out loud. "Oh, no, that's all true. I can shoot the bullseye out of a target anywhere, any time. On a good day at the range, I don't leave any individual bullet holes, just one ragged hole that all the bullets went through. And that's with a full magazine of eleven rounds."

Tom was obviously thinking about all this. "Was that when you got the cut on your ear, Jack?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I had to cover that up, but I didn't want to alarm the whole family. I tried to be as truthful as I could. Remember I said some metal from another car came through my windshield. The metal was a bunch of machine gun bullets. And I did get cut by flying glass. So now you know the rest of the story."

My revelation had left Tom looking ready to pop. "Wait, Jack! How could that happen? I mean, how does somebody kill a guy who's got a submachine gun? This sounds like something out of a Tom Clancy novel."

"Yeah, it kind of felt that way, too. But Tom Clancy was nowhere in sight, so it was up to me. I'll tell you exactly how it happened so you'll see that it's not made up and it's not magic. I was in my car, backed up against a wall, facing out. I saw the bad guys' car coming from my left. I already had my gun in my right hand. I unlatched the door and gave it a shove. Right then the bad guys came up in front of me and the one in the passenger seat started shooting at my car. I was diving headfirst out of the driver's seat as his bullets took out the windshield. If I'd stayed sitting in the driver's seat, he would have got me right in the head, but I wasn't there any more. We're talking milliseconds here. I hit the pavement with my left shoulder and rolled to avoid breaking every bone in my body, and I wound up flat on my stomach. I squirmed around so I could see under my front bumper.

"The hit men went on past and then backed up to make sure they got me, and I could see the shooter looking for me. I waited till I had a clear shot and put one into his head. He was leaning out of the window to get a good look, and that meant his back muscles were supporting his weight, the same muscles that keep you upright when you're standing. They were controlled by a part of the brain that's way at the back of the head, part of the system that keeps you standing and walking upright. The muscles in the front of his upper body were in opposition, positioning him and moving him under the control of conscious thought processes, located farther forward in his brain. My bullet wiped out the whole front of his brain, so muscles in the front of his body that were making him crouch forward let go first and that made him straighten up. As he did, I got a clear shot at his neck, and then as he went higher I shot him in the chest. I watched the whole thing over the slide of my pistol, and it was like watching a slow motion replay in a football game.

"I suppose you think a dumb kid couldn't do all that. Well, first of all I was determined not to let him kill me. I didn't care whether I killed the guy or not, as long as he couldn't kill me. Second, I'm quick. I know that. Always have been. Born that way, I guess. Third, I have first class equipment, courtesy of the FBI. Car, gun, ammo, the whole works. And finally, they taught us how to use what they've given us, and we practice and practice and practice. I've gotta admit, if Trudy'd been doing the shooting, she would have placed that head shot exactly midway between his eyes. She's that kind of a perfectionist. I settled for a diagonal shot. Not as pretty, but I was in a hurry and I took the first clear shot I could get."

Trudy nodded. "Tom, remember Uncle Red, next door to us? He builds up special cars for the government, and he has survival specialists on his staff. Our car looks like Tom's old Ford, and in a way it is, except that it's all high performance stuff inside, sort of like NASCAR. We learned all about defensive driving, and how to handle a high performance car. I'm really good at it. Maybe when this is all over I can take you to Uncle Red's driving track and show you what I can do. Probably scare the crap out of you."

Pete spoke up. "I've got bad news for you, Trudy. If you go there it won't be in the old Ford. I totaled it yesterday. Oh, what time is it? Day before yesterday, now. You two had the Chevy that Woody built up for us. That's supposed to be my car. You came a different way, but I followed the decoy route that was planned out and documented, in your car. Around Elmira we were attacked by a guy with a machine gun, riding in a car that came up beside us in the other lane. We took a lot of bullets. My partner took one in the shoulder but she'll be all right. I needed to get separated from the other car in a hurry, so I jammed on the brakes and it went on by, doing about ninety. Then the only thing I could do to stay clear was slide our car off the road and roll it down a small bank. I'm sure that was discussed in your training. So now your car looks like a pile of scrap. It's at Red's shop now, and he's trying to see what he can salvage from it. But my partner and I are still alive, by the grace of God."