Resurrection
A Drake Dallas Adventure
Published by PNC Publishing at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 N.C. Pennington
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Cover photos by: © Vitaliy - Fotolia.com.
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Resurrection
A Drake Dallas Adventure
PART 1
Chapter 1
Drake ripped a strip of packing tape off the roll. He pushed it over the flaps of the box, sealing it.
“Well,” he said. “That’s it.” He stood and looked around at the bare walls of Alex’s room.
Alex nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You sound bummed.”
“So do you,” Alex said.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if your family was moving somewhere close. I’d even be happy if you were staying in the States,” Drake said.
“Yeah,” Alex said. “What’s with Moldova? You ever hear of a city called Rabnita?”
“I didn’t even know it existed until you said you were moving there.”
“You know, my dad just decided he wanted to be a missionary, and that was that.” He sat on the carpet. “You need to get a passport. You’ve got to come and visit.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Drake said. “I can’t imagine that anything exciting ever happens there.”
Alex smiled. “I bet if you show up that would change.”
“I’ve been on my best behavior,” Drake said. “I haven’t gotten involved an anything.”
“I know you,” Alex said. “It’s just a matter of time.”
“Alex!” his dad yelled up the stairs. “Let’s go!”
Drake picked the box up, and they went downstairs. Uncle Lenny, Alex’s dad, took the box. He loaded it in on the truck. Their belongings were going to be trucked to the airport and then flown over the ocean. Aunt Ginny and Drake’s mom were hugging. The taxi that was to take them away pulled up.
The three got in it, and the car drove off.
Drake stood near his mom. “Well, did you ever think of your brother as a missionary?”
“I guess not,” she said.
“It’s not fair,” Drake said. “Alex has moved half way around the world. Trinity is gone to some expensive girls’ school on the east coast. And then there’s me. I’m here. By myself.”
“You know other people,” his mom said. “You can make new friends.”
“You know,” Drake said. “I don’t want new friends. I want things the way they were. Nobody will be like Alex. Nobody could replace Trinity.” He kicked a little rock into the middle of the road.
“So what are you going to do now?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe I’ll go have pizza at Uncle Lenny’s old shop. What’s it called now?”
“I don’t remember, but why don’t you go? That will be good for you,” she said. “See you at home later.”
He walked off sluggishly. He and Alex did everything together. Trinity added the spice, and rather suddenly, both were gone—moved away.
“Crap!” He kicked another rock.
The pizza place used to be called Lenny’s Pizza, and he remembered the new name now. It was Pepper’s Pizzeria. It was a crappy name. Drake hated it.
A girl stepped up to the counter as he walked in.
“Hi,” she said cheerfully.
“Hey. I’ll have two slices of the sausage pizza,” he said.
“Um,” she said. “Uh, we’re out of sausage.”
“Uncle Lenny never ran out of sausage,” he mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
Drake cleared his throat. “I said I’ll have pepperoni.”
She stared at him.
“You do have pepperoni?”
“Only if you buy a whole pizza.”
“What do you have by the slice?” he asked.
“Vegetarian or Hawaiian.”
“Fine. Give me a slice of that.”
“Which one?”
“Does it matter?” he asked.
She looked oddly at him and punched the order into the computer. “Having a bad day?” she asked.
He gave her a stare.
She recoiled. “Never mind,” she said quietly. “Here’s your pizza.”
He took the paper plate and went to sit down. She’d given him Hawaiian.
He bit into the pizza. It wasn’t hot. It wasn’t even warm, and there was hardly any sauce on it.
He dropped his slice back on the plate, rolled it up, and dumped it into the garbage as he left.
For awhile he wandered aimlessly around town. At least he thought it was aimless.
He ended up at the graveyard his dad was buried in. He leaned on the stone entrance to it. A ways off, he saw a groundskeeper doing something, raking it seemed.
Drake just stood there at the entrance and soaked in the sun. It felt good and relaxed him a little.
It occurred to him that he hadn’t visited his dad’s grave in some time. As he was at the graveyard, it only made sense to find the tombstone. A son should pay his respects, right?
There was an asphalt path that led near where his dad was. He walked down it to the area his dad’s grave was. It stood about a foot-and-a-half high. The granite was polished smooth.
Drake traced the letters with his finger. “Calvin Dallas. 1966 – 1996.”
Drake thought back to the last time he remembered his dad. It was Christmas. He was two or three. His dad gave him a toy pistol. He remembered his mom not liking it.
Drake smiled. It was actually a pellet gun. Of course, he wasn’t given any pellets or gas cartridges. He couldn’t really remember what his dad’s voice sounded like, but he remembered him complaining to his mom that the world tried to dumb kids down.
That’s why he’d given him an actual shooting pistol. He had no idea what it was at the time, but it was cool.
Someone knelt down behind him. Drake could smell the aroma of fresh-cut grass on him. It was the groundskeeper.
Drake didn’t look at the man and pulled some grass up near the edge of the tombstone. He tossed it against its face.
“So?” the man said behind him. “You knew him?”
Drake nodded.
“Looks like he died a while ago. Were you close to him?”
Drake shrugged. “I was pretty young.”
“How’d you know him?”
“He was my dad,” Drake said.
“Are you angry at him?”
Drake turned around to look at the guy. He squinted. “Why would I be?”
“He died and left you. I don’t know. You seem angry.”
“I’m not angry at him. He died trying to do good. He was shot—in Iraq. He was a bounty hunter.”
The groundskeeper smiled. “Your dad was a bounty hunter?”
Drake nodded. “Actually he was going after Osama Bin Laden way before anyone really knew who he was. Osama’s people got to him.”
“Hmm,” the groundskeeper said.
“I’m sorry,” Drake said. “Not that it really matters to you.” He got up to leave.
“Drake?”
Drake spun around. “You know my name?”
“Isn’t that what you said?”
“I—I never told you my name,” Drake said. Then he smiled. “Oh, you’ve probably seen my picture in the newspaper.”
The groundskeeper shook his head. “Nope.” He looked confused. “Oh, I know where I’ve seen you before.” He took out his wallet and pulled out a snapshot. He handed it to Drake.
Drake instantly recognized it. The same picture hung in his mom’s house. It was a shot of him as a baby and his mom and dad.
“Where’d you get this?”
“I know your dad.”
“You got it from him?” Drake asked. “You knew him? Tell me how you knew him.”
“I know him,” the groundskeeper said.
“What do you mean ‘know’?” Drake cocked his head.
“Has it ever occurred to you that your dad might not be dead?”
Drake looked at the tombstone with his dad’s name on it. “No.”
“Look at your dad in the picture again.”
Drake did.
“Now look at me,” the groundskeeper said.
Drake did. He stared at him hard. Then he shook his head. “No. No.”
“Remember the pellet gun I got you for your third Christmas? Your mom and I fought more over that than anything else.”
Drake backed away from the guy in the overalls. “No. I don’t know what kind of game you are playing. I don’t know who you are or who put you up to it, but believe me—I’m not in the mood today for this crap!”
“When you were just a few months old you fell backwards and hit the corner of your mom’s dresser. It put a dent in the back of your neck. You still have the scar, don’t you?”
Drake’s hand went to the back of his neck and felt the indent. “Maybe you should just go back to your job,” Drake said.
“Before I left on the assignment that I got ‘killed’ on, I told you I had to go put a bad man in the ground. Do you remember what you said to me?”
Slowly Drake nodded.
“You asked me how far down I was going to put him. You asked me if I was going to put him all the way down to hell. Remember?”
“I remember,” Drake whispered. “What’s going on?”
“Things aren’t as they appear. I was never a bounty hunter.”
Drake pointed at the ground. “Who’s buried there?”
His dad shrugged. “No one.”
“Does mom know?”
He shook his head.
“Why would you do that to her? You almost destroyed her. You’re disgusting!” He started to walk away.
“I did it to save her life. I did it to keep you alive.”
Drake turned around. “What does that mean?”
“Can we go get some sodas? You’ll probably want to be sitting down.”
Drake stood there. Part of him just wanted to walk away. This was too weird. It couldn’t be, but finally he spoke. “There’s a place just a couple blocks away,” Drake said.
At the cafe, Drake and his dad slid into the booth. Both had their drinks.
“To start,” Drake’s dad said, “I worked for a quasi-government company that contracted with the CIA. I was, I guess, what you’d call a spy.”
Drake looked unconvinced.
“I was working on why China and Russia still wanted to act like friends. What was in it for them? I found something. Something big.”
“So? Then you ‘die’?”
“Then my cover was blown. It was an internal accident. To keep from being killed, I had to disappear. To keep you safe, I had to no longer exist. Otherwise, they’d come and would have tried to get information out of you and your mom. And their ways aren’t nice.”
“Who, who are they?”
“Russians and Chinese.”
“Fine. Whatever,” Drake said. “Why are you here now?”
“It was discovered that I’m alive. I had to come back and get you and Jackie.”
“We’ve got to run?”
“I’d say I’m about 4 hours ahead of them. They will kill you and your mother and take me back there. They want this.” He put a sheet of paper on the table. It looked like a schematic with notes all around the edges.
“What is it?”
“This is what I found. This is what makes the Chinese and Russian governments want to kill me.”
“Then just give it to our government.”
“I already have. They still want to end me.”
“So make thousands of copies and put them everywhere,” Drake said.
“Think boy! Then they’ll kill thousands of people.”
“What exactly is it?”
“It shows a computer room.”
“A room full of computers?” Drake asked. “That’s it?”
“These mainframes control the utilities, electricity, water treatment, and gas for half of Russia and one-third of China.”
“What? I mean why?”
“The Russian and the Chinese pooled their resources to build a system like this. We have the same thing here in America scattered over the whole country. The Russians and Chinese wanted to be able to do it too. So they worked together to leverage off of each other. No where else in the world is there a setup like this that controls so much. It’s a weakness. They know it . . . now.”
“So if our government knows about it, why don’t they just go hit it and end this?”
“Lots of reasons. All political. Besides our government doesn’t like to pick on anyone that could actually fight back.”
“And what are we going to do?”
“We run until those two countries fix their weakness, and our knowledge is no longer seen as a threat.”
“Could you sound anymore insane?” Drake asked.
His dad took the paper and tore it in half. “I have one huge favor to ask of you.”
“Yeah?”
“Take this.” He handed him half of the paper. “Take this and keep me alive. They want the entire original. If I don’t have it, they’ll keep me alive—trying to leverage me.”
“You are insane,” Drake said. He took the paper. “Let’s go give mom the shock of her life.”
Chapter 2
Drake stepped into his mother’s flower shop. The little bell over the door brought her out of the back. She had a handful of yellow flowers in her hand.
“Hi Drake,” she said.
He just stared at her.
“What?” She turned to look in a mirror that hung over the wall behind her.
“Let’s go into the back,” Drake said.
“You should go into theater.”
He looked confused. “Huh?”
“You are overly dramatic. What ‘great’ revelation do you have for me now?”
“You’d like me to be a little less dramatic?” He smiled. “Okay.” He pushed the door open. “Come in, dad.”
She froze on the word “dad”.
He walked in. “Jackie?”
It was like she was frozen in time. Drake wasn’t even sure if she was breathing. He walked over to her. “Stop being so dramatic.”
She breathed in sharply. Her eyelids fluttered, and her eyes rolled up into her head. Drake caught her as she fell backwards.
“Is there water in the back?” his dad asked.
“This is a flower shop,” Drake said. “So, no. There’s no water anywhere around.”
His dad gave him a look.
“Sorry,” he said. “There’s a utility sink just around the corner.”
Her eyes opened again. She put her hand to her head, and groaned. “I got a huge headache,” she said weakly.
“It’s the shock,” Drake said.
“Who is that?”
“I think you know.”
“No. He’s dead.”
“Then how is he handing you a glass of water?” Drake asked. He helped her sit up, and she took the glass from her husband.
She only drank a little. She still hadn’t looked back at Calvin. “Who is he?” she repeated to Drake.
“Mom. He never died. He was hiding.”
“Bastard!” she whispered.
“That’s what I thought. But he did it to keep us alive.”
She looked at him and quickly returned her gaze to Drake. “Why is he here now?”
“The people that wanted him dead found out he’s alive. That puts us back in danger. He came to get us.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do this. Not after all this time. Tell him to go away.”
“He’s sitting right next to you. He can hear you.”
“We need to leave,” Calvin spoke.
“It can’t be him,” she said. “It’s a fake, a scam.”
“Our first date was at McDonalds,” Drake’s dad said. He put his hand on her cheek. “I only had fries ‘because I didn’t have enough money. You gave me half of your cheeseburger—I think because you felt sorry for me. I was sure I’d never see you again. That wasn’t exactly a great first impression. But, we did go out again. To McDonald’s again. Remember?”
For the first time she looked into his eyes. “Calvin?”
Slowly he nodded. “Yes. It’s really me.”
“Calvin?” she repeated.
He held up his left hand. There was a gold band on his ring finger. “Remember this?”
“You’re still wearing it?”
“And I’m still true to it,” he said quietly.
She threw her arms around him.
Drake stood up and looked away. “You know, dad. If what you said is true, we should be moving.”
Gently, Calvin pried his wife off him. “It’s true. We’ve only got a couple of hours left safely here. You guys need to pack so we can move.”
“What’s going on?”
“Long story,” Drake said. “But if it’s true, we really need to be moving.”
“I’ll tell you on the way back to your house,” Calvin said.
Back at their house, Drake’s mom was shaking her head. “It’s too weird,” she said. “It can’t be true.” She turned the key in the lock and pushed the front door open.
“Dad, what about crossing the border?”
His dad nodded. “It’s going to be tricky. I assume they’re already watching and scanning the major exit points into Canada and Mexico.”
“So, what are we going to do?”
They were now in the living room. Drake’s mom grabbed the hands of her son and husband. She pulled them down to their knees. “First, we’re going to pray. We need God’s help to get out of this.”
Slowly Drake nodded. “Amen,” he whispered.
His dad bowed his head. “God, keep us alive. Let us join up again safely.” He looked up. “Let’s get out of here in 30 minutes!”
“Are we splitting up?” she asked.
“No question about it. And we’re going to go very separate directions. Drake, where’s your computer? Honey, go pack what you’re going to need.”
Drake showed him the computer. He plugged a jump drive into the USB port. A replica of a US passport filled the screen. He took a little digital camera from his pocket, and took Drake’s picture. With amazing speed, he edited the photo to put a royal blue background behind it.
In his other pocket, he took out what seemed to be a blank passport. With some grunting and mumbled curses, he got the main page into the printer.
Ninety seconds later, Drake had a new passport. He was Gage Jawiaski. He was 18 years old.
“Gage?”
“You’re going to go to New Orleans,” his dad said. “Get a job on a ship. We’re going to meet up in Italy. Are you all right?”
Drake felt sick. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Really . . . I’m fine.”
“You can do this, Drake.”
“I know I can. It’s weird.”
“What?”
“I’ve wanted a real adventure my whole life. I’ve looked for one non-stop. But this is real. Too real.”
“Go grab some clothes,” his dad said. He pushed several hundred dollar bills into Drake’s hand. “Take the bus to New Orleans. I want you out of the house in ten minutes. Move!”
“Wait!” Drake said. He sounded out of breath. “Where in Italy?”
“Sora. It’s east of Rome. There’s a building on the corner of Via Mameli and Via Ippolito Nievo.”
“Oh, man,” Drake said quietly as he ran upstairs to grab some extra clothes. He was afraid he’d already forgotten the street names his dad just rattled off.
His dad turned back to the computer. He printed off two more passports and went upstairs.
“Jackie,” he said. “Are you ready?”
She collapsed into his arms. “This is too much. I mean, this is right up your alley and Drake will be fine, but I can’t.”
“You can’t stay here,” he said.
“It’s just all too much all at once,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She shook her head.
“No, truly, I am sorry. You deserve better, but I really want to keep you alive.”
“Do you know how stupid that sounds?” she asked. “What is this? Some James Bond movie?”
“I wish,” he said. “Then I’d have some really neat gadgets, and a fast car that shoots heat-seeking missiles.”
“What do you have?” She sat on the edge of the bed.
“Two legs to run with and a brain to keep me one step ahead. Here’s your passport. You’re Heidi Z. Richman. You’re going to Canada to teach school. Science. Get to Quebec. From there fly to Italy.” He handed her a piece of paper that was wrapped around some money. “There are instructions on it. There’s also enough cash. It’s time to leave.”
“Are we coming back?”
He shrugged.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to Chicago. Then to Switzerland on ‘banking business’. Then Italy.”
“Where’s Drake?”
“Drake!” his dad called loudly. “Drake!”
No answer.
“He’s left already.”
Her eyes widened. “Where’s he going?”
“He’ll be fine. Shh!” He crept to the bedroom door. There was noise at the front door downstairs. Was it Drake?
The front door crashed open.
Quickly and quietly he shut the bedroom door. “They’re here,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Who?” she whispered.
“The people that will kill us.” He heaved at the window on the other side of the room. It’ wouldn’t budge.
“It’ won’t open,” she said. “It’s painted shut.” Her voice had gotten panicky and squeaky.
He picked a lamp off the dresser and smashed the glass. Then he grabbed her hand and pushed her towards the opening. Pounding footsteps came up the stairs.
She crawled out onto the roof. He followed closely.
“Jump!”
“What?”
He shoved her, and jumped himself. Looking back, he saw a black-haired man looking out the window. Barely visible was some sort of gun in his hand.
“Get up; let’s go!” He helped her up. He pulled her over the fence in the back. They crossed the alley and through the neighbor’s yard into the next street.
“Now what?” she asked. She was limping. He stared into her face. It was blank, hopeless.
He smiled. “Oh, it’s not over yet. It’s just starting.” He ran up the driveway of the nearest house and started yanking on the garage door.
“What are you doing?” She sounded frantic.
The overhead door gave way. He shoved it open. His eyes moved quickly. There in the corner. It was a four-foot crowbar. He grabbed it and ran back out into the street.
He jammed it down into the sewer cover. It bounced off. He jammed it down again.
Again it bounced off. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Come on,” he muttered. He smashed the chisel-point of the bar down again. This time it caught in the little slot. He wrenched down. The cover moved up off the road. He scooted it over.
“Get down there!” He turned and heaved the bar into the grass. It’s sunk into the lawn and was hidden by the grass.
When he turned back, she was gone. He lowered himself in and slid the cover back.
He dropped to the concrete floor. It was very dark. “Jackie?”
“I’m here.”
“Where?”
“Here.”
He felt her hand grab his. He knelt next to her. A vehicle rushed by overhead.
“That’s them,” he said. “And we disappeared.” He lit a match. She was shaking.
“I can’t do this,” she said.
“You can,” he said. “You can, because you must.”
“Where do we go now?”
“We’ll stay down here for a bit. Then we’ll separate.”
She started crying.
“Jackie,” he said. “You—”
“I’m not like you,” she said.
“Thank God for that,” he said. “You’ll be fine. You don’t have to be calm on the inside. Be scared. Be terrified. That’s fine, but you can’t show it. Not till we’re safe in Italy.”
She wiped her tears away. “I’ll make it.”
“I know you will.” He looked up. God, keep Drake safe. He’s just a kid.
Chapter 3
Drake sat in a Greyhound bus. He had a twenty-six hour ride in front of him. Some crazy guy sat next to him and kept trying to talk politics. Something about why there should be more women in government. Drake wasn’t really listening.
He took the half of the map that his dad gave him out of his pocket. He spread it out on his lap and began to study it.
It looked like the computer rooms were housed inside of water tanks or towers. Near the bottom of the page his eyes stopped.
“No way!”
“I know,” the man next to him said. “That’s exactly why we need more people like Hilary Clinton!”
“No,” Drake said. “I was talking about this.” He pointed to the map.
“But think,” the guy said. “With her natural wisdom, she—”
“Shh!” Drake said. “Do you know what my hobby is?”
“No, but—”
“Listen,” Drake said. “I collect wind pipes, trachea. Want me to rip your throat out?”
The guy shook his head in a short, jerky motion.
Drake leaned so close that his breath was hitting the guy’s ear. “Then shut up!”
The guy sucked his lower lip.
“Got it?”
He nodded.
Drake looked back at the map at the words that had caught his attention. They were; “Rabnita, Moldova.” The mainframes that ran Chinese and Russian utilities weren’t in China or Russia.
Even weirder, they were in the same city that Alex was. But why Moldova? Well, perhaps because no one would look for them there.
“But I might,” Drake said.
“Exactly,” the guy next to him said.
Drake looked at him. He put a hand to his throat.
* * *
A black BMW sports-utility vehicle eased to a stop in front of Drake’s house.
The driver turned around to the men in the back. He said something in Russian.
“Yes, well they did get away,” the one said who was right behind him. He had a heavy accent. “And speak in English. We’re in America. We don’t want unnecessary attention.”
“We’ve driven everywhere. They disappeared.”
“Great. While you tell me the obvious, why don’t you tell me what is the color of the sky.”
“I would,” the driver said in his heavy accent. “But I don’t know the English for it.”
The guy in the back slapped the head of the driver. “Go talk to the neighbors. You might learn something important.”
“You go,” the driver said. “You speak better English.”
The other passenger in the back, who’d been silent until now spoke. “I will go and talk to them.” His voice was deep and heavily accented. He took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. He blew smoke out. “See you later alligator,” he said in a perfect American accent.
On his way up the sidewalk, he took another deep drag on the cigarette. At the front door, before he rang the bell, he squelched the burning end of his smoke in his bare fingers. Gently he dumped the used cigarette in his pocket and rang the bell.
An old lady answered. “Hello?”
“Hi ma’am.” His voice had gotten smooth and rich.
“Do I know you?” she asked. “I’m not buying anything.”
“No ma’am, of course you’re not. You wouldn’t know me. I’m an old friend of the Dallas family, your next door neighbors.”
“Oh, you knew Jackie and little Drake? Won’t you come in?”
“That would be lovely,” he said and smiled.
“Have a seat,” she pointed at the couch. “Can I get you some lemonade?”
“Please,” he said as he sat down.
Moments later she brought out a tall glass. Ice was tinkling inside. He took a long sip.
“Very good,” he said. “You squeezed your own lemons, didn’t you?”
“I did,” she said.
“I could tell. It’s delicious,” he said.
“Thank you.” She blushed.
“I was good friends with Calvin and Jackie,” he said.
“Oh, you knew Calvin?”
“We went to college together.”
“And now you’re looking them up after all these years. That’s sweet,” she said. “But you do know that Calvin is no longer with us.”
He nodded solemnly. “Anyway, I went to their house. No one is there. Are they gone on a trip?”
“Oh no,” she said. “They’re here. They’ll be home soon.”
A warm smile crossed his face. “That’s great. I can’t wait to see them again. Tell me about them. Everything.”
“Well,” she said. “Little Drake has grown up. He’s just like his dad was.”
“Really? That little tyke?”
“Oh yes,” she said. “I think he’s got a girlfriend too.”
“You don’t say!” he said looking shocked.
“Oh yes. A cute girl named Trinity.”
“She lives close?”
“Not anymore. It’s sad. She was sent to Sara Williamson Girls’ School. I think it’s in Connecticut.”
“That’s a shame,” he said and frowned into his lemonade.
“Try to cheer him up when you see him later, will you?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “In fact I’m going to buy him a present right now.”
“One of those new-fangled electronic gizmos?”
“Exactly one of those,” he said.
“Oh, he’ll love it. Kids love little electronic things.”
He got up. “I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks for stopping by.” She closed the door behind him.
He walked back to the vehicle and climbed in the back. “Did you get that?” he asked as he adjusted the little microphone in his collar.
“Everything,” the man said. “It sounds like this Drake could be a problem. If he is just like his father, I don’t like it.”
“We already have leverage on him.”
“What?”
“Let us grab his sweetheart in Connecticut.”
“We have to get approval from headquarters first,” the guy said who was behind the driver. He took a cell phone out of his pocket.
* * *
Drake got off of the bus in New Orleans. The crazy guy got off behind him. Drake gave him a dirty look. “I’m never riding a bus again,” he muttered.
He wandered up to the customer service desk. “Could you point me in the direction of the docks?”
The man just scowled and pointed. Drake exited the building and started walking that way.
After walking several miles, his feet hurt. He saw the docks. Huge gray ships sat out in the water.
A huge gate blocked entrance into the port. Fence stretched out on either side. He walked up to the gate.
A security guard came out. “Yes?”
“I’m looking for a job,” Drake said.
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” Drake lied.
The guard pointed to an office just inside that said “Employment Office.”
“Thanks,” Drake said and walked in.
The door to the employment office was rotting wood. He had to put his shoulder into it to get it to open.
A fat, gray haired woman sat behind an old wooden desk.
“Hi, I’m Dra—, I mean, my name is Gage. I’m looking for a job.”
“What kind?” She sounded like she was already bored with him.
“On a ship. Going to Europe.”
“Go book a cruise,” she said.
“I’d love to,” Drake said. “I don’t have the money. I need a job.”
“Do you have any experience?”
“I learn fast.”
“No jobs right now. Check back later.” She put her horn-rimmed glasses back on and stared at some papers on her desk.
He put his hands on the desk and leaned over. “I need a job,” he said quietly.
“McDonald’s is hiring.”
“I also need to get to Europe.”
“So do I, kid.”
“You don’t understand,” Drake said. “I need to get out of here, and I don’t have any money.” His hand dropped into his pants. His fingers wrapped around the last twenty dollar bill he had.
“Look. There aren’t any jobs. Get out of here!” she said looking up.
He started to leave. “What if I talk to the ship captains?”
“Whatever. They don’t want some underaged kid with no experience.”
“I’m eighteen,” Drake said.
“Sure you are,” she said.
He walked back to the desk and laid his passport on the desk.
“So you look young. Big deal. Now get out of here before I call security.”
Drake left. He wandered around and spoke to eight different captains and first mates. No one was interested in him.
He had money in a bank account in the Cayman Islands. Unfortunately, his dad had rushed him out of the house so fast, that he’d forgotten to grab his bank documents. All he had left was $20.00. He needed to get a job, and he needed to get to Italy.
Sooner or later the Russian or Chinese would be on to him here, and that would spell ‘game over’.
On his way to the docks he’d passed several apartment buildings. He exited the port and made his way back to them. He found one that was unlocked, and crawled under the stairs that went to the second floor.
He turned to the wall and closed his eyes.
* * *
The next morning he made his way back to the dock without breakfast. Again he was pointed to the employment office.
“Any new jobs posted?” Drake asked.
The woman stared bleakly at him. “Not for someone without experience.”
“What new jobs were posted?”
“On the board,” she said.
He turned and saw the sheet of paper pinned to the cork board. Two new jobs had been posted. The first one was for the ship The Red Blade headed to Portugal. They were looking for sailors with 3+ years of experience. The other was going to Argentina.
“Where is The Red Blade docked?” he asked.
She pointed.
Drake left.
Cranes were loading cargo on The Red Blade.
“Excuse me?” Drake said.
The guy standing near the roped off area turned around.
“Who do I see about the job that was posted this morning?”
“It’s filled.”
“Already?”
“Yeah.”
“Any other jobs?”
The guy turned around.
“I need a job,” Drake said.
“And that’s my problem?”
Drake turned around. He slammed his fist into his other hand. “I could give him a problem,” he muttered. “Just walk away. But I could bust his little fuzzy head. Just walk away.”
* * *
The Russian looked at his watch. Eleven PM. He was lying in some bushes outside of the Sara Williamson Girls’ School. The other two were with him. They were watching one window. It was the second story window that looked into Trinity Lance’s room. The light was still on.
And then it was switched off. Slowly he stood. “Let’s get the little girl.”
The one said who’d been driving the SUV leered and started to say something in Russian.
“No. No one will touch her.”
The three moved quietly, dressed in black.
At the base of the building, they stopped. The heavy-set one, who had talked to the old lady in Middleton, slid a metal contraption out of a black case. It was about the size and shape of a music stand.
He opened it, and unfolded it. And opened and unfolded it more. It opened up to an eight foot ladder.
The leader climbed up first. With a glass cutter, he cut a square out of the window. Through the opening, he undid the latch and slid the window up.
He exploded into the room. The other skinny one was right behind him. The leader raced to the door, laid his body across it, and flipped the light on.
The other bounded on the bed and tackled Trinity. She never got the chance to scream. The man clamped his hand over her mouth and squeezed her tight to himself.
She through an elbow backwards. It caught him just above the hip.
He grunted. She twisted in his grip and bit his nose. He let go. She kicked him in the crotch.
He mewed like a kitten and bent over.
The fat one climbed into the room. Trinity started to scream. The fat one clamped his hand over her mouth. “Shh. Honey, take it easy,” he said in a perfect American accent.
She bit down into his hand. He didn’t react. She dug her teeth in. A trickle of blood ran down his fingers.
He leaned next to her ear. “I wouldn’t, honey. I have HIV.”
Her teeth let go. He could feel her trying to spit.
“That was fun,” the leader said.
The leader’s cell phone rang softly. Quickly he snapped it open.
“Go,” he said in Russian.
“Positive ID on the one called Drake.”
“Where?” he asked.
“Port of New Orleans. Picked him up on the security cameras.”
The leader looked at his watch. “We’ll be there by 6pm.” He snapped the phone shut.
“It was headquarters,” he said in English. “We’ve got a fix on the kid.”
“Who?” the skinny one asked.
“Drake.”
Trinity’s eyes widened. The leader noticed.
“Does that bother you?”
She tried to say something.
“Well, you’re our insurance plan.”
“Do we need her now?”
“Are you planning to let her go?” the leader asked.
“No,” the fat one said. “I was talking about breaking her neck.”
“Let’s load her on the plane to the motherland. Then we’ll get Drake.”
Chapter 4
Drake looked at his watch. 5:51PM. No one was hiring, and he was getting antsy. He could feel time running out. There was one ship that had docked yesterday that he hadn’t talked to yet. It was on the opposite side of the dock. He started walking to it. He walked right under a security camera, but didn’t notice.
5:56PM. He reached the ship.
“Hi. Is the first mate around?”
“I’m the first mate,” the man said.
“I’m Gage,” Drake said. “I just turned eighteen. I don’t have any experience, but I really need a job. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”
The guy just stared at him.
“Well?”
“No.”
“Come on,” Drake said.
“Sorry.”
Drake looked at his watch. 5:58PM.
“What’s your name?” Drake asked.
“Jorge,” the man said.
“Listen, Jorge, I’m in trouble.”
“Then we really don’t want you,” Jorge said.
“No, it’s not legal trouble; it’s not mob trouble.”
“What kind of trouble is it?”
“A feud. Some guy wants to kill me because I stole his girl.”
Jorge smiled. “Wants to kill you? So you’re running? What a big man!”
“Come on,” Drake said. “Help me out.”
Jorge looked at his watch. “Look, I don’t have time for this. We cast off in minutes. I’ve got to go.”
Drake caught his sleeve. “I’ll do anything.”
“Scrub pots for twelve hours straight?”
“Yes.”
Jorge put his hand on Drake’s shoulder. “You’re stupid, but you’re hired. Welcome aboard.”
Jorge and Drake walked on board.
* * *
6:09:21 PM. The three Russians were running as fast as they could. They could see the ship just barely moving. They ran.
By the time they reached the edge of the dock, the ship was one hundred yards out.
The leader screamed curses. A port policeman was walking by.
He walked over to them. “Do you need help?”
“That ship!” the leader screamed. “Where is it going?”
“That ship?” He pointed.
“Yes!” the Russian screamed. Spit flew from his mouth. “Where is it going?”
“Genoa, Italy.”
“When?” he screamed. “When will it get there?”
“When?” the officer asked.
“Yes, when?”
“Fifteen days.”
The leader screamed more curses, and then stalked off. The other two followed.
“Fifteen days,” he muttered. “We’ll be waiting for it.”
* * *
Jackie Dallas, Drake’s mom, drove the rented car into the checkpoint. Beyond that was Canada. And from there was her flight to Italy.
The Canadian border patrolman stuck his head in the car window. “Identification please.”
She handed him her passport.
“Ms. Heidi Z. Richman. One moment please.” He walked away.
What was that about? Didn’t they always just wave you through? Why just a moment?
She wiped a trickle of sweat off her forehead. Five minutes passed. Five more minutes passed.
Something had to be wrong.
Two more minutes went by.
The guard came out. “Ms. Richman, would you pull your car over?”
“Pull over?”
“Yes, please.”
She did so.
“Come with me into the station.”
“Is there a problem?” She tried to sound sweet and innocent. Rather hard given the circumstances.
“We need to take your fingerprints.”
“Why is that?” It came out more like a scream that she meant it.
“We need your fingerprints.” He led her into the guard hut. There her fingers were pressed into ink and rolled over a sheet of paper. She was given a towelette to clean her finger tips.
The fingerprints were faxed. This all seemed so low tech, she thought.
More sweat rolled down her forehead. She was totally freaked. How could her fake name have been leaked?
The fax machine came to life. The border guard took the sheet off it that had just come through.
“Hmm,” he said. “You’re not Heidi Zelda Richman.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Ma’am, Heidi Zelda Richman is wanted in Canada. We have her prints on file. Yours aren’t hers. You’re someone else. However, that raises a larger question. Who are you? And why would you use her name?”
She stared at him blankly. She knew her husband would know what to do here. Even Drake would say something clever and be on his way. She couldn’t think of anything. “I don’t know.”
“Who are you?”
No way could she reveal who she was. That would surely be a mistake. “I can’t say,” she whispered.
“Well, we’re going to have to hold you.”
“No! No! I need to go.”
“Then who are you?”
She sat back in her seat. Surely Calvin would come looking for her eventually . . . she’d just have to wait. “Lock me up,” she said resignedly.
* * *
Somewhere in Canada. There was a bare room. A black telephone sat on a plain table. It started to ring. A man got up from a hard-backed wooden chair and answered it.
“Yes,” he said in Russian.
“This is H1. Are you ready?” the voice asked from the phone in Russian.
“Go.”
“The Canadian border patrol has detained a woman matching the description of Jackie Dallas.”
“Where?”
“Fort Frances, Ontario.”
The man hung up the phone. This was going to be easy.
* * *
Genoa, Italy at night. At the docks.
The ship Drake was on was going to dock in about one hour. Twelve secret service members of the Russian police were stationed through out the area. Each had a clear view of the dock. All could see the small outline of the ship as it was coming in.
All had the same order. They were to shoot Drake Dallas on sight. Each of the twelve was trained snipers. Each had a loaded sniper rifle, and each was very good at using it.
Drake’s picture had been burnt into their brains. They knew exactly what he looked like. Most likely he’d get twelve bullets in the head at the same time.
The only woman sniper raised her gun with the night scope. The cross hairs focused on the ship’s deck. Drake wasn’t up there, but she’d find him. She was only nineteen and still had something to prove to the eleven others. She’s shoot him first; she was sure of it.
All she’d have to do is out think the men, she thought. She’d spot him first.
* * *
Drake was deep in the galley. The last fifteen days had been worse than awful—like hell on earth. He was using a putty knife to scrape some sort of dried gunk out of the bottom of a huge kettle.
The cook walked in. “Still working on that, Gage?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Hurry it up. We dock in less than an hour.” The cook walked out.
Less than an hour? Why was he bothering with this? Once they docked, he was going to be long gone. He dropped the putty knife to the bottom of the kettle and left.
Up on the deck, the sailors were rushing around. It all seemed very confusing. He squinted through the dark at the docks. Several tug boats were on their way out to them to bring them in.
A sailor shoved him as he walked by and swore at him.
“Hey!” Drake said.
“Get out of the way!” another said as he walked by. He shoved him too.
Drake found himself pushed up against the railing of the ship. Down far below, the sea water churned in the dark against the sides of the ship.
He felt a hand clamp around the back of his neck. It was the first mate.
“You’re not supposed to be up here right now,” he said.
“We’re getting ready to dock,” Drake said. “What does it matter?”
“You know, we never filled out any paperwork on you,” the first mate said.
“So?”
“You were never really hired,” the first mate said. “Consider this a cost saving action.” He grabbed Drake’s belt and heaved.
Drake flew over the edge of the ship. He screamed all the way to the water.
He hit and sunk, and he kept going down. Slowly his descent ended, and he began to go up to the surface.
His head popped up, and he gulped in. Water instead of air filled his lungs. The wake of the ship washed over him.
“Hey!” he heard someone yell. A light shown on him.
Behind him one of the tug boats was closing in. A white flotation device on a rope was thrown to him.
* * *
The female sniper watched someone fall off of the ship. It took a long time for that person to resurface. A tug boat picked him up. There was no chatter on the radio. She checked her tiny ear piece. It was working. No one had seen it, and her gut was telling her it was Drake. She’d always been slightly psychic. Drake was on the tug boat.
The tugs docks off a ways to her right. Silently, she set her rifle down. She drew a squat 9 millimeter pistol from her waist and crept towards the tug docking area.
* * *
The tug’s captain was Antonio something Italian Drake didn’t catch.
“Antonio, man, thanks for picking me up,” Drake said. “That would’ve been a long swim.”
“It is okay, friend,” Antonio said. His words were spoken staccato and separated.
“Gage. I’m Gage. And thanks for the spare clothes. If you give me your address, I’ll send you some money to pay for them.”
Antonio shook his head. “It is a gift. Try not to fall off of any more ships.”
“Yeah,” Drake said, as long as first mates don’t throw me overboard.
The tug bumped against the bumpers that protected it from the wood of the dock. Antonio helped him off, and pointed the way out of the port area.
As soon as he was alone, he looked at his passport. It was soaked. Some of the ink had run, but it wasn’t really noticeable.
Something pressed into his head.
He looked up. The metallic object now pressed against his forehead. A woman was pushing a gun barrel into his head.
“Welcome to Italy,” she said in a British accent.
“I like the way they do it in Hawaii better,” he said. His eyes crossed as he stared at her trigger finger. She was squeezing.
The palm of his hand flew up and hit the gun. It fired to the side of his head. Automatically his hand wrapped around the barrel. He twisted and rotated. She cried out as the gun came free of her hand.
He swung it in a wide arch to smash it into her head. She ducked and twisted out of the way. He recovered and aimed the barrel at her neck. Her hand came out and nicked the side of the firearm.
The magazine dropped out of the handle and hit the ground.
Drake was already squeezing the trigger. The hammer snapped on an empty barrel.
“Well done,” he said.
“Pig!” she spat and jumped up off of her knees.
Drake’s eyes focused off to the side of her head. His face showed terror. “Oh, no,” he said in dread.
She looked to see what it was. There wasn’t anything.
Drake had already leaped forward. He delivered a vicious knife hand chop to her throat. She staggered back choking, trying to get enough air.
Drake stepped up to her and spun her around. He pushed her back tight against his chest, and he fit his forearm under her chin. Then he compressed it against her neck, cutting off her air.
“Take it easy, girl,” he said softly. “It will be over soon.”
She threw an elbow. It glanced harmlessly off his side.
She went limp. Gently he laid her down.
Chapter 5
The snipers watched everyone disembark. Drake never left the ship.
The leader’s earpiece came to life. “S1, do you copy?” a voice asked in Russian.
“Copy.”
“A tug captain has filed a report with the port authorities. Someone fell off of the ship. He picked him up.”
“Do we have positive identification?”
“Negative,” the voice said. “But it has to be him. He’s loose in Italy.”
“Next move, sir?”
“Move your unit to secure the northern border. We’re going to sweep this country. An American boy can’t hide forever.”
* * *
Fort Frances, Ontario, Canada. A Russian man crouched and watched the guard outside of the holding cell for the border patrol.
The guard walked back and forth. It looked like he was trying to stay awake.
The Russian stepped out of the bushes. He decided that the direct approach was going to work the best. The guard stopped as he saw him come out of the bushes.
“Can I help you?” the guard asked.
“Let me inside,” the Russian said.
“Authorized personnel only. This is a government building,” the guard said.
The Russian showed the guard the automatic pistol in his hand. “I don’t want to kill you, but I wouldn’t mind doing so if necessary. Open the jail.”
The guard depressed the call button on his radio.
“Say anything into that radio, and you will die slowly.”
The guard let go of the radio. He swiped his card on the card reader and the doors clicked as the electromagnetic locks opened.
“What do you want in here?”
“You are holding a woman of unknown identity. I want her.”
“You know that we are on camera,” the guard said.
“If your government is stupid enough to come looking for me, they deserve what they will get.”
The guard stopped in front of one of the cell doors. Again he swiped his card. The door buzzed open.
The Russian stared in. There was a woman. “Jackie?”
She looked startled.
“Yes, I know your name, Jackie. You will need to come with me.”
“Where?” She sounded scared.
“Oh I don’t know. Maybe Russia.”
Her eyes got wide. She stood and bolted straight at him trying to get through the door. With one arm he caught her and held her.
She sunk her teeth into his hand. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back roughly. It hurt her; tears came into her eyes.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “Or I’ll do worse.” To the guard he said, “Get in that cell.”
The guard stared blankly at him. The Russian pushed him hard, and he stumbled inside. The Russian shut the door. The locks clicked.
“Let’s go,” he said to Jackie, and he dragged her outside.
* * *
Drake sat alone in the safe house. Four days had passed. They had been four very boring days. Each day he’d gotten more nervous, and each day he’d slept less. Last night he slept three hours. Sleeping pills didn’t help. Little by little, he felt like he was cracking under the strain.
For food there was only one can of beans left. There hadn’t been much food to begin with. Inevitably, he was going to have to leave the safe house and expose himself in the town.
He’d found a little money in a desk drawer. With it he decided to buy something at the open air market as it was close.
Whatever he did, he didn’t want to attract attention. He didn’t want anybody to remember him. That was going to be tough. One thing about him would stick out for sure; he didn’t speak any Italian.
Well, he thought, the situation isn’t helped by waiting. He took some money and left. A short walk away, he stood in the marketplace. His eyes scanned for something cheap and easy to eat.
There were various kinds of pasta, vegetables, bread, and cheeses. He walked up to one of the stands. An old woman was sitting behind it.
He pointed at a small lump of cheese.
“Desiderate comprare il formaggio?” she asked.
He stared at her. Should he say yes? What in the world did she just ask? Again he pointed at the cheese.
“Si?” she asked.
He nodded. Then he pointed at some bread.
“Ed il pane?”
He shrugged.
“No?”
That didn’t work. He pointed at the bread.
“Si, si. Ed il pane,” She wrapped them in some brown paper and handed them to him.
He handed her some money. She gave him some coins back.
He felt an urge to look to his right. There was an Asian man there, dressed in black, and he looked out of place. It didn’t feel right.
The guy was looking at him as if he was waiting for something. Drake stepped away from the old lady’s stand.
Something like a bee buzzed by his ear. A rock exploded by his foot. Drake spun around. The Asian man was gone. Looking around, a flash of light caught his eye. He was seeing the sun glinting off of a telescope on the roof of the building behind him.
Sniper!
He threw himself forward and smashed into the old lady’s table. She screamed. Food flew everywhere.
From nowhere, someone started yelling in Chinese. Drake lifted his head and saw about eight of them, and they saw him.
He ran into the house that the old lady’s stand was in front of.
He was standing in a sparsely furnished dining room. There was no where to hide. A woman walked into the room with a basket of laundry.
Drake ran to her. “Don’t tell anyone I’m here. Uh, never mind. You don’t speak English. Give me that table cloth.”
He took it, threw it over the table, and ducked under.
The woman screamed as the Chinese men poured into her house. One of the men bumped up against the table. Drake could see a lump against the man’s leg. Cautiously, he lifted the edge of the table cloth. It was a hand grenade clipped to his belt. Drake removed it without detection.
The Chinese guys started running through the house looking for him. Someone grabbed the table and pulled it aside. Drake was exposed.
From all directions, guns pointed at him.
Drake yanked the pin out of the grenade. He looked contemplatively at it. “I don’t think I was supposed to do that.” He tossed it at one of the guys. “Here, you take it.”
The guy screamed and threw it out the window. It exploded before it hit the ground. Drake was smashed into the door frame, three feet away.
He got to his feet, staggered like a drunk, and collapsed again. He tried again and stood with the help of the wall. He got outside.
Across the street, a guy was getting out of a sporty-looking car. Drake staggered to him.
“Buddy. I’m Drake Dallas. I live in Middleton, Wisconsin, America. Send me the bill.” He pulled the car keys from the guy’s hand.
“Ladro! Ladro!” the man yelled.
Drake jumped in and started the car. “Aw, crap. It’s a manual transmission.”
He tried to get the car into first gear. The car bucked and died. The Chinese were starting to stagger out of the house. Drake locked the car. He started it again and tried to go easier on the clutch. Again he killed it.
“Forget it,” he said. He started the car and gunned the engine. With the pedal all the way down, he put the car in first and eased the clutch up.
The tires screamed and smoked as they spun, trying to bite into the road. The back half of the car started bouncing up and down.
Then the tires caught. Drake was slammed back into his seat. The car raced forward. The tachometer dipped hard, but started climbing back into the red. The engine got high and whiny again.
Drake mashed the clutch down and pushed the shifter into second. He popped the clutch up. Again he was pushed back into his seat.
He glanced in his rear view mirror. Someone was following, but too far away to tell who.
The tachometer showed the engine at 5000 rpm. Drake kept the pedal all the way down. When the tac read 7000, he punched the transmission into third gear.
The road sign showed that the road was going to make a half-circle turn. Drake went into the turn at 135 kph (85 mph). The car started to slide across the pavement sideways.
He worked the clutch and down shifted to second. He was thrown forward into the steering wheel. The engine sounded like it was going to blow.
Coming out of the turn, he shifted back into third. A steep hill was coming up. Drake kept the pedal down. At the base of the hill, he shifted into fourth. Halfway up, he down shifted back into third.
For a second, he glanced into his rear view mirror. Still being followed, he noticed, and whoever it was had gotten closer. Looking back at the road, he saw it made a hard right-angle turn at the crest of the hill.
“Not good,” he muttered. Preparing for a crash, he crouched in his seat and grabbed the steering wheel as tight as he could. His arm muscles began to shake.
The car splintered the guard railing. He didn’t feel the impact, but his stomach felt weird as the car soared over land.
Seconds later, the car hit the ground. Drake was thrown into the roof of the car and somersaulted. He ended up with his head facing the pedals.
The car bounced back into the air and then hit the ground again. The steering wheel dug into his back. He thought he was going to snap in two.
The car smashed into something solid. Drake’s head rammed into the gas pedal. Everything stopped. Drake didn’t move, and he wasn’t sure if he could for a moment.
Very slowly he backed himself out of the weird jam he was in. The car door still worked. He opened it and rolled out.
He looked up at the top of the hill. Three SUVs were coming down off of the road after him.
“Oh, man,” he groaned. “They just won’t give up.”
He stood and stumbled forward. He was going to have to run faster than them. He was going to have to really run. He broke into a jog.
Ahead was a wooden fence. He rolled under it. Sheep roamed around inside. An old man was watching them. Drake ran up to him.