Jim’s Blazer made the slow turn onto the gravel road to his house. As he approached it, all he could think of was Nikki. He was dying to see, her but knew it best that he get some sleep first, or at least a good shower and shave. Pulling around the back of the house, the vehicle came to a stop in its usual spot.
Jim got out and dragged his tired feet slowly to the backdoor. A few feet away, something about the door caught his eye, and he stopped dead in his tracks. The jam was shattered. A closer examination told Jim that the door had been kicked in. Adrenaline shot through his body, and his mind was fully engaged. Pulling his weapon, he slowly pushed open the door and peered cautiously inside.
He could hear the TV, and the air was filled with cigar smoke. With his gun ready, he slowly and quietly moved through the house towards the living room. As he peered around the corner, he could see that the furniture had been rearranged.
His high backed chair had been turned towards the TV, all he could see was the back of it. The end table was pulled up next to the chair. An ashtray filled with cigar butts sat next to a half empty bottle of whisky and a glass.
On the corner of the table sat a nickel-plated pearl handled nine millimeter Beretta. Beside it with a black band, sat a white fedora. A thin line of cigar smoke rose from the other side of the chair. With his gun ready, Jim moved silently and cautiously until he could see around it.
An older man with black shinny hair and an expensive impeccably tailored, blue pinstriped suit sat in the chair. A huge, flawless diamond tie tack adorned his Italian silk tie and an equally impressive diamond rested in the gold ring on his finger. The man pulled the thick cigar from his teeth and smiled at Jim from ear to ear.
“Marcellous!” Jim relaxed and lowered his gun. “I told you never to come here! If someone were to see you, they might make a connection.”
The older man ignored the remark, pulled a new cigar from the platinum cigar case in his coat pocket, and extended it towards Jim. “Hello, Cooper. Cuban?” Jim waved it away so Marcellous placed it on the end table. “Maybe later then.”
The intruder stood to face Jim. His large body towered over Jim by almost a foot, and his shoulders were almost twice as wide. Anthony Marcellous was known around Lewis County as the man who ran the local landfill and had done so for almost as long as Jim had been Sheriff. Marcellous was also known to the DEA—as Phantom.
“Why did you come here?” Harper asked in an irritated voice.
“I felt I had to. When you left the trailer yesterday, I collected the bricks of opium and came up one short. I didn’t think much of it until I found out Buck was killed, so I closed up shop. At first, I thought maybe you were trying to double cross me.” His eyes narrowed as he looked down his nose at Jim.
Jim felt insulted. “I’ve been straight with you all these years. How could you think that?”
“Oh, come on, Jim, you saw the news stories. What would you have thought?”
Jim thought about it for a few moments, then nodded in agreement. He would’ve thought the same thing. In fact, one of his initial reactions, when he’d seen the first news cast yesterday morning, was to wonder if Marcellous had done the shooting. It had initially stunned him, but after fully considering it, he knew it was impossible.
“So I came out here last night to get the jump on you, but you never showed.”
“I spent the night at the station,” Jim said as he turned towards the window.
“Lucky for you. After those news reports, I might’ve shot you on sight.” Marcellous poured whisky into two glasses on the table. Picking them up, he walked the few steps to Jim’s side and smiled. “Here, let’s drink to the operation.”
Jim looked at him with distaste in his eyes. His exhausted mind was still troubled over the loss of his friends, and he wasn’t in the mood to be reminded of why they had died. “Our relationship has always been purely business. I don’t drink with drug dealers.” He lashed out coldly.
Marcellous’s expression instantly turned nasty. “No, you just smuggle it in for me! Don’t forget. You came to me, I didn’t come to you, so don’t get all high and mighty.” After a moment, Marcellous’s mood slowly changed. He hadn’t come here to argue. That wouldn’t benefit anyone, he thought as he looked out the window with Jim. This was a time for remembering their friends. “Then let’s drink to Buck and Rick.”
He again extended the glass. Jim hesitated, then taking the glass, they tipped their heads back and swallowed the liquor.
“I still remember the first time I met you.” Marcellous changed the subject and a smile came back to his face. “I was a small time black market dealer in a bar in Saigon when Buck introduced us.” They both smiled at the recollection. Marcellous had left the States to avoid being arrested for selling drugs.
He ended up in Vietnam and worked the black market selling anything to anyone, but he made most of his money selling drugs to GI’s and prostitutes. Like Buck, he had adopted the practice of converting wealth to precious stones and had put together a small fortune. He had traded truck parts, lubricants, and such with Buck for a couple of years and had tried to convince him that the drug trade could be far more lucrative.
Buck refused to have anything to do with drugs. He felt that drugs were evil and would eventually destroy the people that used or dealt with it. He never once traded or used drugs and took pleasure in destroying processing sites in the bush when his troops came across them.
Buck had introduced Jim to Marcellous while showing him the ins and outs of black market trading. Jim was still recovering from the wounds he’d suffered in combat, and he and Marcellous got to know each other well. What Marcellous saw in Jim was an angry young man with a chip on his shoulder for his government and a soft spot in his heart for the little guy.
Jim traded goods and always gave half of his profit to charity. His favorite charities were the local orphanages. Whenever possible, Jim volunteered at the orphanages helping in anyway that he could. Somehow, he felt close to the young children without families of their own. He too had lost his family because of war in one country or another, and he felt obligated to help those like himself. But most situations could only be handled by large sums of money. Food, medicine, clothing– it all came at a high price in the war torn region.
That’s when Marcellous explained to Jim about the benefits of dealing in drugs. Marcellous also told him about the vast profits he had once made in the States selling drugs on the streets and expressed a wish that he could establish a smuggling operation. The real money was in the States, and anyone that could pull it off would become extremely rich.
He knew that, like Buck, Jim was against drugs, but he explained that those who used drugs were going to do so no matter who supplied it. So, what was the harm in profiting from the inevitable? Jim didn’t like the idea and refused to take part in any further discussions about it.
But the idea lingered in Jim’s mind as he saw his orphans go without so many things, but he couldn’t bring himself to prey on another’s weakness as a solution to the problem. Finally, he was healthy and ready to go back to the States. Buck wanted him to stay and help plan missions with him, but Jim wanted to leave the military behind and get on with his life.
That wasn’t so easy. When he arrived in the States, Jim and other veterans were protested against. The protesters spoke fowl language, threw garbage, and looked upon him with loathsome eyes.
Jim had never felt so dejected in all his life. What had he done to deserve this? He had been angry with his government and now he was angry with the protesters.
He returned to Lewis County, but could not find peace. Without his grandfather, there was nothing for him there. So he returned to Vietnam and to the adopted family he’d come to know. Only this time, he had two missions.
The first, was to help Buck plan strategies for the Special Forces. The other was more personal. On the trip back, Jim had formulated a plan to get the money he
needed to help his extended family while also allowing him to strike a blow to the government and protesters he so very much loathed.
Jim went to Marcellous and asked for assurances that the opium would only be sold to the types of people who had protested against him and that they would conduct the operation in such a way that it reduced the chances of being caught. Marcellous quickly agreed and Jim explained his plan in detail.
Marcellous thought fondly about it as he looked out the window with Jim and a smile came back to his face. “I was just a small time dealer until you showed up and told me your plan. It was brilliant!” Marcellous tried to recall the details. “Your plan, that is, to get opium out of Asia and into the US… what was it again?” Marcellous answered his own question. “Oh yeah, as a consultant at the Embassy, you found a loop hole in the customs laws. A country’s embassy was considered a part of the sovereign land of the occupant. So the American Embassy was considered US soil and therefore packages shipped through it, did not have to go through customs. So, I moved to Portland and you would take small statues of Buddha, stuff them full of pure opium, and ship them to me. Ha!” Marcellous laughed heartily.
Jim managed a smile at remembering the set up. “I use to rub Buddha’s belly for good luck before shipping each package,” he added as he turned from the window to face his long time partner.
“I didn’t realize that belly could hold so much. We had an incredible opportunity to make a lot of money, all courtesy of the US government. What a wonderful plan.” Marcellous patted Jim on the shoulder.
“Yes, it worked perfectly,” Jim agreed. Jim handled the delivery of the opium while Marcellous took care of processing, sales, and payments. They never once used any money for their own purposes, except an overseas fund that was established to make donations to the orphanages where Jim volunteered. No money ever went into an account for Jim. Marcellous created a Swiss bank account where they were going to save every penny for retirement when it was all over.
“It worked because neither of us spent any money,” Marcellous commented. “That way the authorities were never tipped off.”
Jim nodded. “But it ended sooner than we had expected.” Buck, who never knew what Jim and Marcellous were doing, ran into his own money problems. He was swindled out of his life savings then forced into retirement by an Army trying to sweep Buck’s destruction of a bank under the rug. Buck was now angry, humiliated, and penniless. He slipped into depression and started to drink heavily.
Now that the responsibility of helping Buck plan missions was over, Jim saw no reason to continue with it. Besides, he was not as angry as he was before, so Jim took Buck under his wing and they both went back to Lewis County where Jim promised the quiet life Buck had known as a kid. Before he had left, however, Jim had sent enough packages to give Marcellous several months of extra supply.
When Jim returned to Lewis County, he found that it was not the same as when he’d left it. Outside, big city influences had moved in. Protesters came to the small town to have “love ins” and do demonstrations. Big government was bleeding the county’s resources and big business was starting to develop every available piece of property they could get a hold of. It was devastating to both Jim and Buck, and they decided that they had to put an end to it.
They immediately went to work on Jim’s campaign for Sheriff. But campaigns took money, so Jim went to Marcellous for his share of the profits from the operation, but it wasn’t as much as he’d hoped. It seems that the start up costs for the operation were more than Marcellous had expected. Hiring and training employees, and setting up contacts and payoffs to people who could make things happen were way beyond what they had figured. Then, pulling the plug early before they had realized a return on those costs left very little to split up.
Jim spent every penny on his campaign and won. Now he was in the thick of it. Every problem that the county had was dropped in Jim’s lap, and he was finding it difficult to make things turn out the way he’d hoped. He knew that every single problem had to have a solution, but the only universal answer that this young Sheriff could come up with was—money. Every one of his problems could be solved with money.
There was only one place where he could get the amount of money he needed, and that was to start the operation back up. Only this time he would need more help. Buck was shocked when Jim came to him for help. At first, Buck had refused to get involved, but after seeing no other solution, Jim was able to talk him into it. It would only be temporary, Jim had promised. Just until they could solve some of these short-term problems, then they would shut down the operation for good.
But Buck gave Jim a stern warning. Once you start relying on drug money to solve you problems, it will become more and more difficult in the future not to continue doing so. Jim assured him that would never happen.
Jim went to Marcellous with a new plan. One that required more people, but would work just as well. Marcellous refused. He felt that it was too complex and the players were too unreliable. Besides, Jim was broke and Marcellous was nearly so.
He had only enough drugs to keep his customers happy for another couple of weeks or so, then it would be all over. To start a new operation, they needed seed money. Without it, they were doomed to fail. Jim promised Marcellous that he’d find a way to get the seed money, and tried to convince him that his new plan would work, but Marcellous was skeptical.
“So I came to you for help and what did you do?” Jim recalled the event somewhat distastefully. “You didn’t even listen to my proposition seriously. All you could do was worry about your own skin. You rejected everything I said and got ready to pack up and high tail it out of the country.”
“I had to! The drugs had almost run out. When you have drugs to sell, your customers are a lot of fun and it’s one endless party. But that all changes if the supply dies out. I was lucky enough to get out with my head. Then you came to the airport and tried to stop me.” Marcellous recalled the confrontation they’d had at the Portland airport. “You said you were sure that your new plan would work and that you could get the seed money for it quickly. I listened to you, but couldn’t believe it. The plan didn’t even look good on paper. It just wasn’t practical.” Marcellous shook his head the same way he had in the Portland airport so many years ago.
“It was practical,” Jim said in the same manner he did almost thirty years ago. “We learned so much and made too many contacts from the first operation to let it slip out of our fingers. But you panicked and wanted to run. You said that I wasn’t smart enough to hold things together and make it work.” It was Jim’s turn to shake his finger accusingly.
“You’re right. I didn’t think you were smart enough. Who could blame me with a plan like that? I mean the idea of it. An Asian freighter carries the opium across the ocean and rendezvous with a Forest Service float plane just outside US waters. Then the plane, which is flown by a pilot with mental problems, flies into the mountains and conducts a low level-bombing run in a high mountain clearing.
“Of course, nobody sees this happen because the Forest Service has closed the trail claiming that there are too many bears in the area for it to be safe for hikers. Then a Forest Service employee, who talks too much and is drunk half the time, picks up the opium and packs it down on the backs of mules disguised as trail garbage.
Then I work as a garbage man so that I can pick up the drugs. I then process them, make sales and payments― just as I did in the first operation. While all this is going on, as Sheriff, you run interference for us if anyone gets suspicious and starts asking questions.” Marcellous remarked with a smile. “We even used a code name for the bricks. We referred to them as “bears” because we didn’t want anyone to see or even get close to them. Calling them “bears” also allowed us to talk openly in public about them without anyone getting suspicious.”
“It was the perfect plan,” Jim nodded again with confidence. “As long
as I kept Buck and Rick in check everything went like clock work.”
“Well who could blame me for not thinking it would? That’s why you had to prove it to me. You had to demonstrate that you were smart enough and clever enough to keep it all together in a stressful situation. But then you already knew that before you came to the airport to stop me. I remember exactly what you said.” Marcellous recounted the event as if he were reading it from a book. “You said that you could instantly get the whole nation’s attention. Then have the Feds come crashing down right on top of you and you could walk among them, influence their investigation, and point them in all the wrong directions without being under suspicion.”
“You said I was crazy. That I had lost it. Then, like a coward, you jumped on the first flight out of town,” Jim recalled.
“You obviously knew I would,” Marcellous defended. “That’s the way you had it planned from the start. I still remember how shocked I was. There I was, sitting in a bar at LAX wondering where to go next when the special report came over the TV. A plane taking off from Portland bound for Seattle was hijacked in mid-flight. They showed a picture of you. You wore make up and sunglasses, but I could tell it was you.
Then they said the name. The newscaster said it as if that’s all it was, just a name, but it wasn’t. It was a signal to me. One you knew would be sent out on the airways and would reach me no matter where I was. A name that only I knew. You bought your ticket under the name that you used on the return address labels on the Buddha packages from Saigon. Dan Cooper.” Marcellous again laughed heartily. “Very clever. I nearly fell off the bar stool when I heard it. So, I got on the next flight back, then drove into Centralia. The town was loaded with people coming to hunt for the hijacker. The mountains were filled with Army troops and the Sheriff’s station was under the control of the FBI. While the whole time the very man they were looking for was standing right outside the station house, calmly writing parking tickets.” Again Marcellous laughed.
It felt good to tell the story, finally after all these years. They had all vowed to keep silent and except for a few drunken slip-ups by Buck, they were successful. But the secret, which was held back for so many years, weighed heavily on all of them and was begging to be told.
Jim felt it, too. Normally he wouldn’t have spent this much time alone with the man he had grown to dislike. Over the years, the operation had started to weigh heavily on his conscious and he started to resent Marcellous and the need for the operation as a whole. But he and Marcellous were now the only two people left who knew the truth, and he couldn’t help but join in the tale. “I told you I could do it. I told you I had what it took to run this kind of operation.”
“And what a beautiful operation it was.” Marcellous filled the glasses and handed Jim’s to him, then lifted his own. “Lets have a toast to the operation.”
“No. I can’t drink to that. The operation got Buck and Rick killed.”
“No, that’s not true,” Marcellous insisted. “You’re responsible. Buck and Rick had wanted to stop the operation years ago, but you wouldn’t let them. You’ve never liked me because I’ve always been in it for the money, but don’t forget what they say about birds of a feather,” Marcellous pointed a finger at Jim. “You and I are the same.”
“No! I don’t do it for myself, I’m not in this out of greed!” Jim snarled.
“Don’t kid yourself, Jim,” Marcellous argued. “You don’t really expect me to believe that you did it for some noble cause, do you? That you were doing it just to help the community?” Marcellous’s questions momentarily caused Jim to freeze up. “You did it for revenge—to even a score. You wanted to teach your government a lesson.”
“Why not? They deserved it for what they did to me and my family,” Jim admitted as he turned back towards the window. “The things they made me do over there. They turned me into a monster. They have to pay for that.”
“Your bleeding heart attitude makes me sick, Jim!” Marcellous snapped. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s had a tough life? Get over it!”
These words angered Jim, but he didn’t answer.
“You’ve pulled the wool over the Feds eyes for almost thirty years now. You’ve proven that you’re smarter and better than they are. Now it’s time you ended the feud.” Marcellous tried to reason with him.
“They deserved it!” Jim insisted, again.
“What about the victims? Did they deserve it?”
“That’s your fault, not mine! You were only supposed to sell it to those long haired hippie freaks at their protests and “love ins” or what ever they called it!” He still grew angry at the thought of those people. The same ones that banded together against him and the other soldiers back from the war.
He was stuck in the middle between the government that sent him there and the people he came home to. He wasn’t sure who he hated the most, but he swore that they all would pay.
“Hate dies hard, doesn’t it Jim?” Marcellous observed as he reached for the bottle and poured another round. “It’s a funny thing about those hippies, Jim. They grew up, and a lot of them became rich successful people. Heck, ironically they became the very thing they protested against in the first place.” He smirked at that, then continued. “They had money to buy, so I sold to them. Now their children have money so I sell to them.”
“It was never supposed to go this far.” Jim lowered his head sadly and closed his eyes.
“You don’t have a choice in it, you’re strictly delivery! I handle the processing, selling, and payments. If you don’t like it, tough!” Marcellous barked angrily as he shook a bony finger at his companion. “You should have thought about the consequences before you started this, not after.”
From the start, Marcellous had always been in it for the money. It was pure greed. He wanted to get rich and he didn’t care how he got it. Buck had also wanted the money. Sure, at first he was hesitant, but he was still angry and depressed at the loss of his nest egg. He hadn’t been thinking clearly when he decided he was willing to put up with a short-term operation if it meant getting some of it back.
Rick was also in it for the money. He wanted desperately to have the freedom to be left alone and fly. He felt that money would allow him to buy his own plane and fly wherever and whenever he wanted.
Jim, on the other hand, was not concerned with what money could do for him, but with what it could do for his extended family. He had adopted the people of the county and he considered their problems to be his own. A couple of years after the operation had started, the warning that Buck had given him finally struck home. Jim had been able to use money to solve the problems he had originally set out to fix. But those problems were soon replaced by new ones, then new ones after that. Jim slowly started relying on one more delivery to solve one more problem.
Marcellous handled everything. An offshore account was created and an anonymous donor would wire in money for whatever needed to be taken care of. It was rumored that someone who had once lived in the county married into royalty in Europe and was now acting as a secret guardian angel to the community. It didn’t really matter. No one ever asks too many questions when free money is involved.
But something went wrong along the way. The operation stretched out longer that anyone had expected. They all put down roots and realized that they already had everything they wanted. A secret offshore company purchased the logging rights to millions of acres within the county. That insured that Buck could continue his outfitting for the rest of his life.
The PBY that Rick flew was essentially his and he could fly it anytime he wanted. There was nothing else that the two had needed. Neither Buck nor Rick wanted to leave this place they had come to call home and no longer cared about the money. Their hearts were no longer in it, and they were starting to slip up. Buck was feeling guilty, drinking more than usual, and was starting to talk too much.
; Nikki had been right. Jim, Buck, and also Rick were all nursing a secret, personal, and separate pain. And in each case there was one thing holding them back from healing—one common denominator…the operation. The operation had prolonged their suffering, caused them to hide further from the truth. Buck hid in his bottle, Rick in his flying, and Jim in his work. As long as the operation continued, there would be no hope for them.
Jim had convinced them to keep the operation going. There was always one last project that needed to be done. Then, he had always promised, they could shut down the operation for good.
Neither one of the three knew how much money they had. The operation was set up so that only Marcellous knew what their one Swiss bank account was worth. In fact, the others never wanted to talk about it because it always made them feel guilty.
Jim only cared that there was enough money to handle the next short fall in county funds. When the operation stopped, that source of money would dry up, then where would he be? Over the years, Jim had come to resent Marcellous more and more because the use of drug money meant that Jim had not been able to control events without it.
He had always wanted to get to a point where he no longer needed it then he could say—there, I did it. But, he was never able to. It angered Jim to admit that to himself, now, especially after Marcellous’s accusation that the deaths of his friends were his fault.
Marcellous read Jim’s mind before he could say anything. “That’s right, you could’ve stopped the operation anytime you wanted, so they are dead because of you.”
Jim knew he was telling the truth. He’d been thinking the same thing for hours now, but couldn’t quite get himself to admit it. He’d tried to remind himself of all the reasons he had kept the operation going in the first place, but they all seemed so trivial now.
Again, Marcellous seemed to read Jim’s mind. “Don’t try to give me anymore bull excuses about revenge or one last shipment for one last project,” he said before Jim could open his mouth. “I know the real reason you’ve kept the operation going all these years.” Marcellous smiled a knowing smile and hesitated for affect before continuing. “You’ve kept it going because it allows you to be in control. Everyone runs to Jim when there’s a problem and you solve it, you’re one big hero.” Marcellous waved his finger at Jim before continuing. “But that’s not all, is it? You’re also in it for the excitement aren’t you?”
Jim’s jaw dropped in surprise. Had I been so transparent? All these years he’d claimed a need to get even, but that was only in the beginning. After he’d cooled down, he’d then argued that the county needed the money.
It wasn’t until years later that he realized he enjoyed the double life he was leading. He never admitted that to anyone. In fact, he felt guilty thinking that his life had been anything but honorable, especially now that his friends were gone. Had they died because of my selfish desire for excitement? he wondered. Again he felt guilty, realizing that deep inside he knew it to be true. He had thought that hiding the truth from the other three was so simple. Turning to look at his companion, he wondered how long he had known. The victorious smile told him the answer.
“I’ve known since the beginning,” Marcellous said as he again read the expression on Jim’s face. “I think long before even you knew it.”
He was right. Marcellous had been perceptive enough to figure out what Jim and the others had really wanted from the operation then used what he knew to manipulate them. He controlled the money, and because of that, he was the true controller of the operation.
Jim believed that he controlled the process because he made the decision each time a shipment was ordered. Marcellous knew this and used it to his own benefit. The operation had supplied more than enough money than they could possibly spend, but he had lied to all of them.
If Jim wanted money for a project, he would have to order another shipment. Although Jim had suspected that his counterpart was holding out on him, he had never been able to prove it and didn’t ever push the issue. As he had just admitted, he enjoyed the excitement of it.
But he resented the fact that Marcellous could control enough of the operation to make him have to order shipments. After too many years of feeling the brunt of that resentment, Marcellous enjoyed making Jim feel uncomfortable. He had put up with it because he needed the sometimes arrogant jerk, but no longer. The operation was over.
Jim felt off balance and angry at how Marcellous had dissected him so completely. He was tired and unprepared for this type of scrutiny, so he tried to re-enforce his position. “I’m the one in charge here, not you. I stay in control by knowing every detail of what’s going on.”
“Really?” Marcellous observed. “Did you know that Buck kept a journal?”
Jim had forgotten about that and again felt angry at having it pointed out to him. “No I didn’t,” he admitted. “But I convinced everyone it was just a story book. I have it in the Blazer and will burn it tonight.”
Marcellous decided not to spar with Jim any longer. He had always wanted to take Jim down a few notches, but this was not the time or place. In fact, he admitted to himself, he still needed him. It was time to make up, so he lifted the two glasses. “Let’s have another for Buck and Rick?”
Jim hesitated, then nodded and both men tipped their heads back and downed the shots. Marcellous immediately filled both glassed then spoke up. He wanted to end this conversation on a lighter note, and there was a question that had nagged at him for decades. “You know you never told me how you did it.”
“Did what?”
Marcellous knew that it always put Jim in a good mood to talk about how smart he was. “When you jumped from that airplane the weather was horrible. That whole night it rained cats and dogs. The clouds were so thick that you couldn’t have seen the ground. How did you know when to jump?”
Jim smiled. It was something that only he and Buck had known. Now that it was all over, Jim thought it fitting to come full circle with an explanation of how this whole adventure had started. “When I met you at the Portland airport, I knew you wouldn’t listen to me. Weeks in advance, I planned the hijacking. After I watched you take off, I picked up my small suitcase from a locker. Then, while on the plane, I told them it was a bomb. I had everything timed perfectly. I made the airplane take off from Seattle so that by the time it got over the mountains it was dark.
The pilot flew at the speed, altitude, and course that I instructed him to. As you’ve probably guessed by now, the case was not a bomb. Instead it contained a powerful receiver that I used to pick up the signals from the radio beacons of both the Portland airport and Sea-Tac.”
A light went on in Marcellous’s brain. “You used the process of triangelization. By knowing from which direction the two signals were coming from, you could pin point your exact location.”
“That’s right, but that was the easy part,” Jim continued. “The rest had to be done with timing. I counted in my head and pulled the cord without ever seeing the ground. In fact it was just seconds after the chute opened that I hit the ground.”
“Huh! That sounds dangerous!” Marcellous exclaimed.
“No, I was in complete control,” Jim said, matter-of-factly, and then continued. “Buck was waiting and was able to locate me with a lantern. He also had my Sheriff’s uniform and radio. When the Fed’s called the station, the station called me. I diverted deputies and roadblocks away from our location while still working our way down on mules. When we got down the mountain, I just barely had time to get my own road block set up on highway seven, by Buck’s place, before the Feds showed up. I diverted them in a different direction so that Buck could have time to take the parachute, receiver, and other stuff and sink it deep into Mineral Lake.”
“So, while the Feds were looking for it, where did you hide the money?”
“That’s was the best part,” Jim could hardly keep from laughing. “I put it in the cushions of
the passenger seat of my Sheriff’s vehicle. The whole time I drove that FBI Special Agent in charge around, little did he know that he was sitting on the money and being escorted by the hijacker!”
Both men broke into hysterical laughter. “Oh man! What a sweet set up!” Marcellous said as he patted Jim on the back one more time. “I think that story makes a fitting end to the perfect operation.”
“The operation doesn’t have to be over,” Jim assured him, still trying to believe he could control events. For years Jim had been looking for a way that they could truly make one last shipment so that Buck and Rick could carry on their lives guilt free. He was finally able to come up with a solution when the end of the cold war made it possible. “I’ve got a line on a Russian submarine. I can get her captain to fill the sub to the brim with opium, then he’ll drive it into Puget Sound and in one night, we’ll have enough for the rest of our lives.”
Marcellous thought about it a second, then nodded. “That’s a great plan, really it is, but the operation is over,” he insisted. “Because after all these years Special Agent Blake is going to figure it all out.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on Jim, the question that ties it all together has been asked,” Marcellous replied. “That DEA agent said it on the evening news. He said that the Sheriff’s department intentionally slowed down the investigation. It never occurred to that FBI agent that you were doing it on purpose.”
Jim’s face turned grim as he realized that Marcellous was right. He’d been too busy the past couple days to think about how the news stories were affecting Special Agent Blake. Jim had often compared himself to Blake in his own mind. He knew that like himself, Blake must pull out his copy of the D.B. Cooper file once each year on the anniversary of the jump. Except that, while Jim was wondering how he could’ve made the plan work better, Blake was wondering how he’d gone wrong.
Blake was a very intelligent man, but he had one blind spot that Jim manipulated. He never for a moment considered that the Sheriff could be under suspicion. Jim realized just then that Blake must have watched all the news reports and probably had stayed up all night with his file folders open trying to put it all together.
“You know, Blake is running that question over and over in his head right now.” Marcellous assured him. “It’s only a matter of time before he’s knocking on your door wanting answers. In fact, he could be on his way here right now.”
The possibility worried Jim. For the first time in his life, he hadn’t had time to think or plan. Nikki’s face filled his mind, confusing the issue. “What should I do?” The question left his lips without him being conscious of it.
“Let’s go to Europe and retire,” Marcellous answered.
“I can’t leave Nikki. What would I tell her?” Jim wondered out loud.
“I don’t know, lie to her. You’re good at that, remember?” Marcellous again answered. He had to convince Jim to leave. It wasn’t a good idea that he stay behind. Jim was a loose end, and loose ends always come back to haunt you. Jim was the only person that could pin anything on Marcellous. He thought briefly about killing him, but he couldn’t do that. For all his arrogance, Marcellous liked and admired him. “Tell her you won the lotto, or something. If she won’t come with you then leave her. Either way, you can’t stay.”
Jim instantly felt the other blade of his two-edged life cut into him. Had the excitement of his secret past now destroyed his chances at true happiness with Nikki? He feared the answer. He realized then that all he ever wanted in life was what he had with Nikki. Nothing else mattered. But now, that could all be over.
A few moments later, he thought of something else. “What about the county? How will they get along without me?”
“Forget the county!” Marcellous insisted. “If you get arrested, do you think anyone will come to your defense? Do you think it’ll matter to any of them that because of you they have a new high school, a new wing on the hospital, or the recreation center and playing fields—just to name a few.” Marcellous shook his head decisively. “Not one of them would stick their neck out for you!”
Jim sunk to a new low at this revelation.
A moment later, movement from the window caught his eye, so he turned to look out. Through the dim light of dusk he could see a car coming up the road. It was still far off, but it was moving fast.
“Nikki’s coming. You’re going to have to leave,” Jim ordered.
Marcellous looked out of the window, and then nodded. Moving to the end table, he picked up his pistol, and put it in his coat pocket. He then placed the fedora on his head and pulled it down just above his eyes. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out several stacks of bound bills and tossed them to Jim.
“Here’s fifty thousand dollars. I’m going to Zurich. Meet me there and we’ll split the money between us.” Marcellous started walking towards the back door when he let out another laugh.
“What is it now?” Harper asked as he watched the car get closer.
“I wonder if that DEA agent realizes how close he came to the truth.”
Jim didn’t find the irony humorous. He couldn’t block the pain at the thought of losing Nikki. “No, he’s too stupid,” he managed to say.
“Listen, Cooper, I’ll wait in Zurich for one week. If you don’t show up I’m taking all the money and disappearing,” Marcellous said as he reached the back door.
The reference to his past life struck painfully at him. “Marcellous! I don’t like it when you call me Cooper!” he lashed out angrily.
Marcellous’s expression turned nasty. “One week,” he repeated, and then stepped out the door slamming it shut behind him.
Jim immediately stuffed the money in his pockets as he walked out the front door and onto the porch. Nikki’s car came to a stop in an instant. Jumping out, she ran to him and threw her arms around him.
“I’m so sorry, Jim!” she cried. “Please forgive me. I should’ve never doubted you! I should’ve known that you would never have lied to me!” She squeezed him tight as she begged him for forgiveness. “Please say something, please!”
With tears in his eyes, Jim was too choked up and couldn’t say anything as he squeezed her back. Her words echoed through his mind as he watched the last of the sun disappear behind the distant mountains.
* * * *
About the Author
James Olszewski is a northwest author who grew up with the legend of D.B. Cooper. Olszewski was a young boy when Cooper had jumped from the 727, and the news coverage captured his attention. As Olszewski grew, the subject of D.B. Cooper continued to spark interest and questions not only about his true physical identify, but also about what drove Cooper to do what he did.
James Olszewski was born and raised in Great Falls, Montana. Graduating with an engineering degree from Montana State University in Bozeman, Montana, Olszewski moved to Seattle to work for the Boeing Company. While in Seattle, Olszewski attended Seattle University, graduating with a masters in business administration. Making the town of Snohomish his home, Olszewski spends much of his time in an effort to bring to light the secrets surrounding Cooper’s identity.
https://www.jamesolszewski.com/
* * * *
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends