CHAPTER SIX
NONE OF THAT JAZZ
1
Jacob sat back in his chair experiencing a similar mental head rush of having waves of reality crashing down on him that Michael did after learning about whom Eve really was and who he really was. Only this time, the revelatory insight was a one-sided affair, with no hidden secrets revealed about Jacob’s past forthcoming. In days gone by, it would be customary for someone to want or need a stiff drink of alcohol under the present circumstances. Instead, Jacob settled for a shot of espresso.
Hanna had one pre-made and waiting for him. Jacob did not have many vices, but coffee, in all its forms, was definitely one. As she set the mini-teacup down in front of him, Jacob picked it up and downed it like a shot of whiskey, holding up the empty cup for another round with the silent request well known to bartenders. Playing her part to a T, Hanna snatched the dead soldier from his hand and quickly brought in a new recruit, setting it down in front of Jacob.
Taking his time with this one, Jacob drank half of it in one gulp, savoring the rest as he gathered his thoughts, unaware he only heard two-thirds of the story. There was yet another shoe to drop from this three-legged bearer of profoundly shocking news. Simply amazed by how quickly the tangible truths you held onto in life could change so much within the span of a five-minute walk.
“Believe me, I know how you feel. It is a lot to take in,” Michael empathetically sympathized with his friend.
“You can certainly say that again, oh exalted one.” Jacob said in a deadpan tone, trying to downplay his shocked condition.
“Ha, ha, you are a very funny guy, Jacob, a real prince of wit.” Michael said embarrassed by his swift rise in stature, sort of like finding out your best friend was royalty. “I am still me. So don’t expect some big moment of brilliant wisdom coming from these lips. I generate my best material from standing on the shoulders of the great minds that came before me. I would not even believe it, if the people telling me weren’t so sure. They say DNA does not lie, and a positive match was supposedly confirmed when my mother passed. It’s a really lousy way to find out a truth about myself I wish I never knew.”
Jacob reflected back on something they just told him about how the FWF could only test the DNA of the deceased, which made sense from their perspective. Except, one thing did not fit.
“Why did they wait so long to match you with someone? You have been eligible for over a year.” Jacob asked, inadvertently giving Hanna an unrealized cue it was her turn to rock his world.
“That is actually a really interesting story.” Eve began, breaking the ice for Hanna, who cleared her throat to get Jacob’s attention.
“One I should probably finish telling.”
The bewildered expression beaming from Jacob’s eyes gave Hanna pause to reflect on a conversation she just had with Eve.
Arriving at their good friend’s home, Eve diverted Hanna using the common excuse of needing a hand in the kitchen. Michael situated himself and Jacob in the dining room section with the ever-present GP Sally standing watch. In the kitchen, Eve spoke to Hanna in a hushed voice, indicating an ulterior motive for her request.
“I am sorry to have to spring this on you, Hanna, but we need to talk before getting to the reason for our purposeful gathering on this sad day.”
After getting to know Eve, Hanna realized the day would come when she would feel obliged to have this (she assumed) conversation, divulging her insight and personal knowledge of who Michael was and her own delicate situation. She just figured she would be the one to initiate it. Taking note of the espresso machine setup on the countertop, prepped and ready to start forcing steam through the finely ground coffee beans, filtering out the gourmet delicacy Jacob professed a real fancy for, Hanna quickly concluded Michael must have had a part in arranging this heart to heart between the fairer sexes. She figured only Michael would be aware of Jacob’s fondness for the dark brewed beverage. Eve must have come clean with him about their hidden backgrounds and true identities, giving her a better understanding of the pressing reason for this meeting of inexplicably linked friends.
“I guess you have a good idea what I want to tell you, since you have already walked in my shoes, so to speak.”
“Almost walked in them, I only got the chance to get familiar with the path they were on. How did you know?”
“A very discreet and trustworthy little bird told me.” Eve said, implying a comforting sense of security that she was among friends and they meant her no harm.
“I figured Michael had something he wanted to talk about, too. I knew if he ever learned the truth about himself, he would confide in Jacob one day. Although that was before I met Jacob and could not be sure how he would take it, being so close to the GAC.”
“Apparently the GAC is not who we thought he was either, and we may have discovered a powerful ally at a very inopportune time.”
“I do not think anyone could have planned for the series of unforeseen contingencies transpiring over the past few days.”
“This is why Michael decided to tell Jacob about himself and the government conspiracy, which there seems to be more to than anyone expected. The FWF might have made a critical error in determining who their enemy is. And Jacob is the only one left with any influence to make a difference.” Eve informed the-spy-like-her, before adding a conditional motivating factor for the plan to succeed. “But it can only work if he knows the whole story, Hanna.”
Without needing to discuss her willing compliance, Hanna looked over and turned on the espresso machine.
“I see Michael knows what his friend will need under troubling circumstances such as this.”
“Such a strange craving, I do not see how anyone can drink regular coffee. I do not even care for the smell of it brewing.” Eve admitted her distaste for the once popular, hot beverage people used to wake up and face their day. “At least, the espresso machine locks in most of the aroma.”
“I am not a big fan either. I prefer tea.”
“Me, too, luckily Michael doesn’t care for coffee. But you already know what Michael likes to eat and drink.”
Hanna could not deny her extensive foreknowledge of Michael’s habits and characteristic traits, making her feel like she was intruding on their relationship. Carrying around the weight of someone’s personal information could be a heavy burden to bear, especially when acquiring that insight proved an unnecessary measure.
2
While waiting on the espresso, the slightest of grins seeped through Hanna’s typically well-sustained façade, amused by how one reflected memory could snowball into a whole blizzard of recollections building up in her mind. She found herself ruminating about someone she had not seen in over two years, thinking back to when Norman Charlotte first approached her about becoming a spy. Of course, that was not how he put it, phrasing the offer in a way he knew would appeal to her benevolent nature, righteous sensibilities, and courageous thirst for adventure. Though, it was not the beginning of her virtuously intrepid journey weighing on her mind, but rather its unceremonious, abrupt end.
She had not seen or spoken to Norman since the day he bluntly informed her in a cold, detached manner her services would no longer be required. It was highly out of character for Norman to be so aloof. Usually an affably congenial fellow, presenting a serene disposition, he seemed to be masking a fearful, nervous apprehension under his taciturn veneer. Except, Hanna could not be sure if it had to do with the government’s strong reach or uncertainty of where her loyalties lied causing his recently acquired, leery demeanor. His gloomy mood mixed in quite well with the damp, rainy day as they stood outside the memorial remembrance chamber where she annually came to pay respects to her brother, who died just before she was born.
A heavy drizzle fell down on the visiting bereaved, threatening to breakout into an all-out downpour, which Hanna wouldn’t mind. She liked the feel of raindrops sprinkling on her face and trickling down her cheeks. It helped keep her mind clear of complicating distrac
tions related to her recent decision to change her career goal when offered a worthwhile new path to follow that could lead to her true purpose in life. She believed fate had intervened.
The feel of someone’s hand taping the back of her shoulder took her by surprise, not expecting to see Norman. They didn’t have a scheduled meeting, and she never met anyone there. It was her private place she went to go think and kept it to herself. She did not know how Norman thought to look for her there, having never mentioned it to him. Still, she was glad to see him, until he spoke.
“The viability of your position is no longer tenable. We do not have any further need of your services. It would be wise for you to remember, while you may know about us and our plans, we know all about you, too.”
The bluntly stated words sounded out in her ears, but could not penetrate the heavy thoughts inside her head. By the time Norman’s words started to sink in, Hanna realized there was no forthcoming information or clarifying reason explaining why they aborted her mission. After all the time, effort, and personal sacrifice, she deserved a reasonable explanation for the abrupt change of plan.
Norman turned and walked away, ignoring her calls for him to come back.
“Norman, wait. Where are you going? Is that all you have to say to me?”
Left standing dazed and confused in the rain, Hanna could not understand what went wrong. The stark difference from the first time they met compared to the last was hard to comprehend. She could not believe how so much could change in a person’s life without any warning or inkling of things to come, not once, but twice.
Hanna felt secure she was heading down the right path, believing she was where she was supposed to be, doing what needed to be done, but as it turned out, it was only the place where she needed to be on the day Norman passed by her way.
Not expecting or looking to find an answer to his new prime directive to locate a female recruit for a special project, Norman went to the zoo that day to clear his head. Spending thirty years as a Team Operations Manager (TOM) for the DOS—while working covertly for the FWF as their top mole in the department—Norman received a new assignment, given to him for his skills in recruiting field operatives. Joining the FWF at nineteen, he never cared about their cause one way or the other, but they offered him a way to be right where he wanted.
At forty-nine, the lanky, thin man with reddish brown hair and sunken eyes gave off a skeletal presence when viewed in profile. While the DOS forced its people to retire from certain occupations at fifty, the FWF could not afford to lose valuable resources, making the transition to New Recruit Appraiser (NRA) a natural fit. The risk was great, but the reward greater.
As it happened on that sunny, early-spring day, the reason he went to the zoo had nothing to do with scouting potential recruits. Norman soon found himself thinking how being lucky can be as good as being smart.
Walking by the wildlife preserve’s bird and reptile habitat, an odd sight caught Norman’s eye. Stopping in mid-step with a cocked eyebrow and tilted head, he took a backwards step. Looking up at a tree branch stretching out across the alligator swamp from a tree rooted on the bird sanctuary side of the pond, he found himself befuddled by the sight of a young female zookeeper nimbly tiptoeing down the branch.
Thinking she must be crazy to do what she was attempting to do, Hanna knew she could not just turn back and leave the poor duckling stuck out in the tree hollow. The young waterfowl ventured across the branch and fell in between a rock and a real hard place to be, especially with a bunch of hungry alligators alerted to the scared bird’s chirps for help.
Safely making it over, Hanna squatted down in front of the frightened creature, not too scared to accept the helpful hands of a kind stranger. Realizing the hard part of the journey was just beginning, Hanna spoke to the duckling like a mother to a wandering child.
“Now what did I tell you about going walkabout? Until you get your wings, you know you need to stay grounded. So what on earth possessed you to trek all the way out here?”
While one could interpret the series of chirps as pleas of forgiveness, they were more likely impatient cries to hurry up and get me duck out of here.
Scooping up the eager duckling in the palms of her hands, Hanna slowly stood up as her passenger settled down with the warmth of her skin providing comforting new confines. While her feather friend might be able to relax, the rescue attempt was far from being over. Hanna began heading back over with her balance compromised from having to hold her hands out in front of her. With only four feet left to go, her foot came down on a knobby nock causing her to teeter dangerously close to the edge of losing her wobbly balance and falling into the alligator pit below. Her instinctive reactions kicked in as she quickly dashed the rest of the way across.
Jumping down off the tree branch, Hanna landed on solid ground with an audible thud, alerting the mother duck to start incessantly squawking. Bending over and placing the duckling down, the wayward child hurried over to its mother, happy to be safe on home soil, even if momma would not let her young one hear the end of it. Mother duck chastised her young like a parent sending a disobedient child to bed without supper, squawking and nudging her offspring all the way back to the nesting area.
“What a remarkably skillful and incredibly brave journey for such a pretty young woman to make all the way there and back again.”
Slightly startled, the stranger’s voice caught her by surprise, soon followed by the sound of many clapping hands. Hanna was unaware her daring good deed was being caught on tape with passerby’s using their cell phones and video cameras to capture the amazing feat on film. Embarrassed by the unexpected attention, Hanna’s cheeks turned a rosy red.
That was how it started for Hanna. It was how it began and ended—unexpectedly. Seeking a new beginning was something Hanna had been searching for since her distinctly purposeful birth. After learning the reason of her conception was to be a genetic match for her ill brother, who died before she was born (four weeks too late), she dedicated her life to helping others.
It led to her career path goal of being an oncologist specializing in childhood diseases.
Learning the details of her birth when only twelve, Hanna suspected it to be the reason her parents seemed to resent her. After the day at the zoo, where she was working as an intern while going to medical school, she found herself standing at one of those life changing crossroads, offered a unique opportunity to serve a higher purpose.
Hanna changed her career course to make her a better match for the unnamed heir. Norman told her the FWF would only reveal his identity if they picked her out of the possible candidates. Very supportive throughout her training, his strong recommendation convinced the FWF to select her over Eve. She remembered the day he told her and how he seemed more elated by the news than she ever did. A week before the FWF could arrange the match, someone high up in the SBP system removed her name from the database with no disqualifying reason given or match made.
It wasn’t until her match with Jacob that Hanna figured out why Norman and the FWF were so paranoid of her, never knowing it was Norman who pointed the finger at Max for the stadium bombing that killed Michael’s father.
3
“Let me see if I can get this all straight in my head. My best friend is actually the long lost heir of the Prophet Warrior, and his lovely, new bride is really an agent of the FWF assigned to raise the heir’s offspring covertly, keeping him in the dark about who he is just because he is my friend. If that is not enough, my future wife was the original recruit selected by the FWF to match with Michael, but became a spy left out in the cold when someone very powerful withdrew her name from the SBP system. Since she was matched to me, I need only one guess to figure out who that could have been.”
Taking a moment to relax, thinking he covered it all, Jacob sat back for a couple of seconds before sitting up after he remembered one more previously revealed, hidden past life.
“Oh, wait, I must not forget about my specially
assigned Guardian Protector, who belongs to an ultra-secret spy organization setup and run exclusively by the GAC. Is that it? Did I leave anything out? Does that just about cover how everyone in my life is not who they appear to be or are you going to tell me that I am a direct descendant of The Author?”
Hanna noticed a slight raise in Harvey’s eyebrow at the end of Jacob’s last statement.
Downing the rest of his espresso, Jacob sat back and waited for someone to give him some answers.
“Would you like another cup?” Hanna asked, knowing there was more yet to come.
“I better hold up. I do not want to get too wired.”
“There is one other thing we need to talk about,” Michael said in a dubious manner. “It is something requiring your persuasive diplomatic skills in solving another tricky situation.”
Jacob snatched up his espresso cup and held it out for Hanna to refill.
As Hanna went to replenish the soothing, hot beverage, Michael continued reiterating the information Eve passed on to him a few hours ago.
“We need to get approval for an expedition to this address located in Old California.” Michael slid the piece of paper he wrote the address down on when Eve told him about it.
Hanna retuned with Jacob’s espresso, setting the hot beverage down directly in front of him.
“Why? What is in Old California that is so important?”
“Not sure. It just might be the key to everything.”
“How so?”
“There might be a connection between The Author and book I found.” Michael said.
“What kind of connection?”
“I am not sure yet. I’m working on it though.”
“Still, that is going to be a pretty tall order to fill. I am going to need more than a theory to setup an expedition, especially since we no longer have the GAC backing our play. Atera will need a good reason to support such an ambitious project at a time like this. She does not trust me as it is. We would have to find a way for her to justify allocating the resources needed, and it has to be something that benefits her as much as it does us.”
“When Eve told me about the address in Old California her FWF contact gave her, it gave me an idea. It dawned on me the inescapable irony of this situation is that in the end, when it comes down to it, we are all fighting for the same thing.”
“What is that?” Hanna asked.
“A Good Story,” Michael said. “It is the one thing mankind has desired the most since the day we learned to talk. Nothing bonds people together more, rallies them to act, or unifies them around a cause other than a good story. It worked for the trial. We just need to do a quick rewrite.”
4
With everybody gone and the house to herself, Atera walked through the empty halls from room to room, ending up in the kitchen. She gazed at the floor with a phantom image of the GAC in front of her, haunting her mind.
“This is the spot where you lay in somnolent slumber napping, trapped in your woken dream. I can still feel your presence around me and know I shall see you in my dreams tonight as clearly as I see you now, even though you were moved from here hours ago.” Atera spoke her thoughts aloud, experiencing a Lady Macbeth-like mental psychosis affecting her mind.
“Oh, my sweet, love. How did this come to pass? The years have been long and hard, and I realize now how right you were back in the beginning. I just could not see then what you now no longer can. How did we end up here? Why couldn’t you remain steadfast in your strong conviction? Why did you have to force my hand?”
As Atera stood there talking to the floor, Dawson walked up and stopped in the doorway. Lingering there a moment to listen, he could tell the stress was getting to her, clouding her foggy mind with a claustrophobic desperation.
“Excuse me, Mistress Cain. I have a theory on who gave Mr. Rose the video footage of Mr. Danielle framing Warren Stacy.” Dawson began without much of a response from Atera, until he mentioned whom.
“I believe the only place they could have possibly accessed it is through Foster Gideon.”
Dawson received her full, undivided attention at the mention of the eccentric recluse, breaking her out of her trance-like state as she became coherently alert to her surroundings.
“I cannot think of another way the defense could have gotten hold of the video surveillance of him planting evidence?”
Dawson was aware of Atera’s deep-rooted fear of the strange man locked inside the Black Room. She had had all satellite surveillance and video monitoring blocked out from inside and outside the mansion. He was not trying to add to her anxiety by mentioning Gideon, but attempting to snap her back to reality, which seemed to work out as planned.
“Are you saying Jacob is part of my husband’s spy network, and that is why they left court? So he could go access the video footage.”
Atera recently told Dawson of the rumors about the ultra-secret spy organization created by the GAC and controlled by him alone, and their connection to Foster Gideon’s Black Room and Dark Tower resources. Most of those in positions of authority, not part of the exclusive circle, thought of it as just another urban legend. The GAC would never even admit to his wife his spy network existed.
“Not Jacob. It’s Harvey.”
“Harvey. It finally makes sense. Alex and he have been close friends since childhood. Harvey is one of few people he would confide in, other than Doc Penelope, like their own little Musketeer trinity.”
Dawson was very mindful of their close-knit group. He resented Harvey for being a part of it and not him. He never knew what bound them together. Nor did he understand the loyal devotion to their cause.
“We might be able to use this to our advantage,” Dawson suggested.
Unlike Ricardo’s plan to frame Jacob’s friends to ruin his reputation and bring him down in the eyes of the public, which Dawson had nothing to do with, he was a willing co-conspirator in Atera’s desperate plan, although given assurances the GAC would not be harm.
The one thing Dawson and Harvey had in common, neither of them wanted to be in charge. They were not the type of men who craved power or the responsibilities it came with, except Dawson started to fear for Atera’s sanity, and the growing possibility she might not be able to wake the GAC from his suspended animation. Much in the same manner in which Harvey had sworn to protect Jacob, Dawson was also bound to Atera by such an oath.
5
“You know I do not like meeting like this,” the soft-spoken female voice said. “It is too risky for me.”
“I thought you should see how it feels to be kept in the dark,” a man said.
The two veiled figures stood in the shadows of the darkened, underground casino-parking garage exchanging preferences for clandestine rendezvous, establishing terms and setting ground rules.
“I don’t know what else you want me to do. I can only report what I see and hear, unless you want me to start planting evidence, too.”
“No, there won’t be a need for none of that jazz. From now on, we will employ a different strategy. I want you to track the subject’s movements during his off hours, whenever he is not home. I want a complete record of where he goes at night, and who he is meeting with at odd hours.”
“That will be hard to pull off without attracting attention to myself. I won’t be of any use to you if my cover gets blown.”
“So far, you have not proven very useful at all. Someone powerful has dedicated a lot of time and resources to set you up in that neighborhood to root out the flaws in the SBP system. After revealing someone corrupted the system to match the subject with a specially pre-chosen mate, we knew where he would move to once matched to his pre-selected partner, knowing he would want to be close to his good friend. There are plenty of people who wish they had the opportunity granted to you, especially considering where you could be right now. I am starting to doubt whether you are the right person for the job. You’re not even pregnant yet. How are you supposed to bond with his mate?”
“But she is not with child either.”
The faceless, nameless man seemed to be motivated more out of envious jealousy than anything else.
“She will be, trust me. I know the subject well. I am starting to think you might have been taken in by living the good life. But remember, what is given, is taken away just as easily. I want to see some results soon. You better have something to tell me next time we speak, or I might have to rethink our arrangement.”
After successfully instilling a real sense of fear in his confidential informant, Ricardo Danielle walked out of the shadows, leaving her with some dark thoughts to think about.
Waiting almost ten minutes before stepping out into the light, Jackie Roberts felt the cold sweat on her forehead giving her a chill throughout her entire body, generated more from fear than anything.