It also had several stock ponds scattered around it, good pastures and millions of trees. There was no house, but that was a plus as far as Tommy was concerned, since they were going to have their own house built anyway. They were planning on going out there the following morning and having a look around, and maybe make an offer comparable to the asking price of six-hundred-thousand. There was only one drawback that Tommy could think of; the eastern pasture butted up against Lake Tenkiller. But that was half a mile away and would be out of sight of any house they built.
He was also thinking about the visit Andrew Ryan had made earlier. Ryan had claimed he was just passing by and had decided to stop and say hi and see how Tommy was treating Lisa. He was joking of course. His real reason was to inform him that Governor Cartwright was anxious to start phase two of the agreement they had made.
While Judge Ryan watched, Tommy entered a series of numbers and letters into his computer. Almost immediately the Oklahoma Department of Corrections great seal came on the screen. Tommy then made his way into the accounting department of the Connors Unit. He withdrew two million dollars and transferred it into the personal account of Warden John Chambers. Ten minutes later he transferred it into an offshore account bearing the same name.
He then entered the complete transaction into the Warden’s computer at the Connors unit and with the push of a button completed his part of the deal they had made.
“Let him explain that!” Ryan laughed. “I wish Connors was in Cherokee County!” he added seriously.
“Well,” Tommy said. “It serves him right. I’m a big believer in people getting what’s coming to them. Their just rewards.”
“Seems they always do, in the end,” Ryan agreed.
Tommy also thought about Austin Lake and the email he had sent him inviting him and Linda to Oklahoma. He could be the foreman on the ranch and Linda could go to work at one of the local hospitals if she wanted to. There were several openings at both of them for Registered Nurses.
It seems, he thought, everything’s falling into place. Just as he believed it would. His only worry at the moment was Hawk and Cramer. They would be coming soon. He didn’t believe for a second they would give up all of their ill gotten gains without a fight. It’s just a matter of time, he thought, as Lisa reached his neck and began to message the lotion into his golden skin.
Tomorrow, he thought, I’ll have a security outfit from Tulsa or Muskogee come out and install a state of the art security system. We’ll need it here since we’ll be here a few more months.
They still hadn’t acquired the land or an architect to design the home, or a builder to build it. That would all take time. And time was the one thing they were in short supply of at the time.
Cramer was coming! Of that he had no doubt!
Chapter 9
Cramer was coming alright! But he was taking the long way around. Lady Luck had dealt him a very high hand in D.C., but after he had checked the fifth name of ten off his list, the game had changed. He now found himself driving west on a four lane highway. His destination was Omaha, Nebraska.
At least if this wasn’t the right T. LeSade, it was on his way to number six on his list.
If the last name on his list proved not to be the Tommy LeSade he was searching for he would be back to square one; ground zero! And with no leads to guide him.
Of course there was always the outside chance that he may hit the jack pot in Omaha or Tahlequah.
The sky blue Lincoln floated down the highway as if it rode on air. The Classical music he listened to was vibrant! Emotional! It moved him near to tears. The high notes came through the speakers as if the orchestra was inside the vehicle with him.
He tapped his finger on the steering wheel with the beat and visualized the 17th century balls. The dancers floating across the floor to their partners. The women curtsied. The men, in their white powdered wigs and waistcoats of sky blue, red, purple and violet, their butternut, gray, white and tan pants, fitting like ballet tights, their codpieces prominent, as they accepted the soft delicate hands of their partners, bowed, their left leg crossed slightly over their right, their head bowed gracefully, their chins turned just at the precise angle, as if looking up at him through the window of time. Laughing at his pathetic efforts to become one of them while knowing in his heart of hearts that he was nothing but a common commoner. Still, he longed to be there, one of them, one of the lofty ones. But, he knew he didn’t have, and would never have, the gentility to pass himself off as more than he was, an imposter lost in the 21st century; a simple commoner.
This thought angered him and he twisted the knob to another radio station. He landed on a talk show. This angered him even more. He turned the radio off, sat back and began making plans for Tommy LeSade. This pleased him.
He smiled sadistically to himself and drove on west, increasing his speed to eighty. He engaged the cruise control and sat, back comfortably in the large luxurious, form fitting Moroccan leather seat.
* * * * *
The telephone on the desk of Sandy Borne, Special Agent, FBI, Tulsa Office rang importantly and insistently. She ignored it until she finished her background check on Captain Tommy LeSade, United States Army-Ranger/Sniper. She hated being interrupted. Her subject was the most impressive, real life man she had ever read about. It seemed as if there was nothing he couldn’t do. From killing without compassion, to dying for a cause he believed in.
“Borne,” she answered, jerking the phone from the cradle as if it were hot.
“Yeah, this is Jackson,” her nemesis down the hall stated. “Found anything on LeSade, Ryan, and Cramer, yet?” she added, as if it were too far to walk from her office three doors down the hall.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. This guy, LeSade, is every woman’s dream!”
“You’re an expert on what every woman wants?” Jackson asked, insinuating that Agent Borne was perhaps gay.
“You’ll never find out, Jackson. So, don’t get false hopes built up.”
Actually Agent Borne was hot all over for Agent Jackson. She could close her eyes and visualize Jackson strutting around the office in her form fitting, designer outfits; her pert little ass sticking out as if in invitation to be patted or caressed.
On several occasions, Jackson had dropped subtle hints to her that she was of the persuasion that enjoyed the company and attentions of young, pretty, well built, golden haired beauties, such as Agent Borne herself. She had also insisted, offhandedly, of course, that her favorite eye color was golden cat eyes. Bourne’s eyes could be described as cat eyes. And they were definitely golden! It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where she was leading, or trying to be led.
“How about we have lunch? I have an interesting case out near Hominy. Seems a certain Warden there decided he needed a loan from the prison. He took it. Denies it. Has no proof. But, I need to investigate. Since it’s not that far to Tahlequah, maybe we can carpool. How ‘bout it, girl?”
What the hell, Borne thought. Might as well jump in and get wet all over! “Sure that would be great. You drive down. I’ll drive back. Deal?” she said, half hoping for rejection. But, praying for acceptance, too.
“Deal,” Jackson said quickly. “Wear something loose. The air conditioner in my car is moody.”
“First thing tomorrow. Pick me up.”
“I’ll be there at six. I know the address.”
“Great, I’ll see you then.” Wondering how and why Jackson knew her address, Borne looked back over at her computer and the military picture of Captain Tommy LeSade staring back at her.
“Bye,” Jackson said, then hung up.
“Bye,” Sandy said, then hung up and turned back to her computer terminal.
She thought about Agent Melissa Jackson. Not your typical African American. She was a little short for an FBI Agent at five feet six inches tall. Sandy herself was five feet eight. Jackson was slim with what appeared to be medium sized breasts. Probably 32C, Sandy
guessed. She was a 36C. Jackson was very well educated. Harvard Law. Honors. IQ 160. Golden skin, satiny smooth. Beautiful face. Should have been a model. Father PhD. Law. Mother same. Long slim hands and fingers. Touch like a butterfly. Smells like Heaven in springtime. Soft spoken. Smoky voice. Third degree black belt. Tae Kwan Do. Olympics. Gold. Women’s.
Sandy noticed her hands trembling slightly. She also felt a rising heated dampness between her legs. Her hands poised over the keyboard, she knew she had to start thinking about something else. LeSade would do for starters.
Two hours later she was still studying LeSade. This guy is an absolute Olympian God she thought, as she read and reread the information on the screen.
I can’t believe I’m falling in love with him she told herself, as the information from his military 201 file began to scroll down the screen.
“You spending the night, here?” Jackson asked, sticking her head past the slightly opened door.
“Just finishing up,” she replied; shutting the computer off.
“Need a lift?”
“No, thanks, I’ve got my car.”
“How about a night cap? My place. We can do some planning for tomorrow,” Jackson asked seductively, her voice as alluring as a vampire.
“Sure,” Sandy responded before she thought about it. She grabbed her bag and went toward the door.
“Great! Let’s go!” Jackson said, holding the door for her.
The drive to Jackson’s was a blur. She followed closely behind so as not to lose her way. Her thoughts stormed through her mind as she thought of what all a ‘night-cap’ might entail in addition to conversation about the two working cases.
She had been torn between her two competing sexual desires since her years in junior high school. She had never been that impressed with heterosexual sex. But, by the same token, she had never had a lesbian relationship either. She didn’t know exactly what to expect when alone with Melissa Jackson. But, she would soon find out, she thought, sitting in Melissa’s living room sipping a bourbon and Coke.
Melissa had excused herself to slip into something more comfortable. Sandy couldn’t wait to see what it may be. Her thoughts raced from a genie costume to a tank top and thong. She was anxious to see it whatever it may, or may not, be.
She tried not to show her disappointment when Melissa returned to the living room in very baggy gray sweats. She plopped down in a large overstuffed chair across from the sofa. She pulled her legs up under herself and sighed. She laid her head back, closed her eyes for a moment, yawned, sighed again and then stretched like an exotic cat.
She’s so beautiful, Sandy thought as she watched silently. She almost felt like a voyeur.
Melissa’s eyes flashed open. She stared straight at Sandy, as if she had read her mind. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” she asked.
“Thank you, but no. Average, maybe. But, not beautiful, like you,” Sandy stammered, taken completely by surprise by the complement.
“Trust me, girl. I know beautiful. And you are she. I could eat you alive,” Melissa said seriously, then licked her lips and shivered all over as if freezing.
“Melissa, are you gay?” Sandy asked, unable to resist the invitation.
“No, I’m FBI. Being a lesbian is frowned upon,” she laughed. “They preach ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’. But, don’t you believe it for a minute, girl. If they find out, kiss your career goodbye. Kiss advancement goodbye. It’s hello Cairo!”
“I would never tell,” Sandy swore. “It’s no one’s business but yours, right?”
“Right,” she replied, looking intently at Sandy. Her eyes looked her slowly up and down.
Sandy began to feel excitement spread throughout her whole body. She began to feel warm all over. She set her drink aside, and then stared back across the room at Melissa. Suddenly, she stood up and began to undress. To her surprise Melissa joined her.
When they were completely nude they met in the middle of the room with a hot passionate kiss. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies delicately. The investigations that were supposed to be the subject of their meeting were put on hold for more important and pressing investigations that sent waves of desire and passion coursing through their bodies.
* * * * *
Tommy was glad the installation of the security system went fast.
Within four hours the whole place was wired like a TOP SECRET military installation. Nothing could move within the perimeter of his house and lot that he wouldn’t know about.
He felt more comfortable and secure now than he had in the past six months. His main concern was Lisa. She had to be protected at all costs. He had sworn his life to her; she to him. It was his responsibility to protect her. And he would give his life in the fulfillment of that duty.
After the security people had left, Lisa and Tommy went to look around the land they were considering buying. They agreed they would decide where to build the house, barn, stables, corrals, exercise yards, and what areas would be used as pasture when and if they decided to buy the land.
A man by the name of Jack Anderson was going to meet them there and offer his advice for placement of the buildings and corrals and why he would place them as he suggested. Anderson had been raising Quarter horses around Tahlequah for over thirty years. So, he knew his business. He came highly recommended. He had a list of satisfied customers a mile long. Everyone in the area knew and trusted him and he knew everyone and who to trust.
When Tommy and Lisa shook hands with Anderson at the gate to the property, they thought they were shaking hands with Will Rogers. The resemblance was uncanny. They mentioned it and Anderson laughed.
“Yeah, people say that all the time. But I don’t see the resemblance ‘atall! Hell Will Rogers was ten feet tall and cast a shadow a mile long on a cloudy day. And had more wild stories than Louis L’Amour! Plus, he became a politician in the end. I don’t care for politicians, much,” he continued, doffing his hat and twirling it in his fingers, standing hip shot, much like the famous Oklahoman.
Lisa laughed at the uncanny characterization as she watched Jack imitate Rogers.
“Well, let’s go have us a look around and see what we can and imagine the rest. Okay?” Anderson said, replacing his hat and opening the gate.
“Sounds good to me,” Tommy said, climbing in his truck after Lisa. Anderson got in on the other side.
“I do admire sitting beside a beautiful woman,” he said, smiling at Lisa.
* * * * *
Cramer was beginning to worry. He drove southwest out of Omaha headed for his furthest destination from D.C.; Tahlequah, Oklahoma. The last Tommy LeSade on his list lived there. If he wasn’t the right one, Cramer thought, he wasn’t sure where he would start looking next.
Maybe back to D.C. and Terri Ashton, he thought. She was so committed, he reasoned. It would be hard for her to back out now. Maybe she had overlooked something that would prove to be the key to the whereabouts of Captain Tommy LeSade. Plus, she still owed him a few favors, the way he saw it.
Thinking of a future night with Terri brought a smile to his face and a warm, fuzzy feeling to the pit of his stomach. He began to ache in a way that made him long for the comfort of his own home and his possessions there; inanimate and living, alike.
At least his home was safe. His slaves and servants were safe and financially secure should something happen to him. He never kidded himself; Tommy LeSade was one very dangerous man. There was always the possibility he would somehow gain the upper hand. If he did manage it, things were going to get real ugly, real fast.
Cramer knew for a fact that he was not the one to take LeSade one on one, face to face. His only chance was from a safe distance away and stealth. Preferably with a scoped rifle; which he didn’t have at the present time. But, like anything else in America, it could be obtained with little or no trouble, if one knew where to look. Cramer knew where to look.
He had acquired illegal weapons in places w
here possession would bring instant death. No trial, judge or jury was needed. Justice was the man with the most men and guns to back him up.
Cramer had never had that many friends he could trust well enough to turn his back on them. Besides, he preferred the shadows. The inky black of night and the unexpected attack. The name of the game he played was ‘he who survives wins’! He had always won in the past. As far as he was concerned Honor had no place on the battlefield. Survival reigned supreme.
The way he saw it was, if a man loved living, he could only put his total trust in one person. Himself! To trust other men to protect something that wasn’t dear to them personally was foolish. A man’s life was only dear to that man who possessed it. To others, it was inconsequential; a burden that may in fact cost them their own life as a result of trying to protect someone else’s.
That’s why Niles Cramer walked alone. Always had, always would. That way he was responsible for only one man’s actions. His. He didn’t have to try and guess what others saw, heard, did or how they acted or reacted to certain opposing actions. Thus, he was still alive after nearly twenty years in the very dangerous world of espionage and counterespionage.
Cramer enjoyed sitting back observing everything. He could take his time and act or react at his own whim. He could also decide on his own, to back off and wait for another opportunity if circumstances didn’t add up exactly the way he wanted them to.
He enjoyed that freedom. Being his own boss. Doing what he wanted, when he wanted. Responsible to and for no one. The total ‘free agent’ was Niles Cramer!
The sign beside the highway read TULSA, MUSKOGEE, with an arrow pointing one way. Below that was LITTLE ROCK, HOT SPRINGS and an arrow pointing straight ahead.
Cramer guided the Lincoln to the right and Tulsa. There were some things he needed to pick up and Tulsa was the place to get them. He maybe couldn’t get it in Little Rock quite as easily. He knew people who knew people in Tulsa.
* * * * *
The banker, Sam Bishop, looked at Tommy and Lisa over his round bifocals skeptically. Perhaps he had misunderstood what Tommy said, or perhaps they were playing a joke on a small town banker. He didn’t much care for being the butt of some silly joke. The way he saw it, time was money. And they were taking up his time, therefore, costing him money!