The Horse Soldier: Beginnings Series Book 10 (59 page)

Andrea’s office.

Joe looked at the nearly shut door, facing it for what seemed to be an eternity. He checked out the note from the future and then replaced it in his chest pocket. With a hand that held a requisition, he knocked once on the door and pushed it open.

Andrea looked up from her desk, smiled
, and then began to stand. “I was just leaving.”

“Oh yeah?” Joe placed his hands in his pockets. “I need to uh . . .” Joe held up the requisition. “Need to borrow your typewriter. Can I?”

“Oh sure.” Andrea piled up some folders, moving them neatly to the corner of her desk. “Are you sad about Hank?”

“Who?” Joe asked.

“The new guy that died.”

“Oh.” Joe nodded once. “Yes. Very. It’s a shame.”

“Ellen didn’t say if she needed help with the autopsy. You know, with Dean gone and all.”

“I’m sure Ellen’s fine.” Joe waited impatiently for Andrea to move from behind he
r desk so he could use the typewriter on the little table next to it. “She’s fine.”

“Good.” Andrea smiled. “Are we having a special council meeting regarding it
?”

Joe lifted his shoulder. “Don’t know. Andrea
, can I . . .”

“I guess I should be asking Henry that
, huh?”

“Yes. Andrea
, could I use that typewriter? I’m really can’t fit back there with you standing there.”

“Oh.” Andrea snickered. “Sorry.” She stepped from behind her desk. “Be my guest.”

“Thank you.” Joe walked over, sat in her chair, and turned it to face the typewriter. He looked at it.

“On the side.”

“What?”

“On the side. The power.”

“Andrea, I know how to turn . . . thank you.” He reached for the power button as if she guided him, even though Joe was quite aware of where the power switch was located. He pulled out his glasses and placed them on. He could see, from the corner of his eye, Andrea standing there. “Are you gonna watch me?”

Andrea closed her eyes and shook her head with a smile. “Sorry. I’m a little out of it. I’m going to go. See you at home.” She pointed to the door.

Joe watched her. Then Joe watched her stop.

“Joe.”

“Yes.”

“Can we have everyone over for dinner? I don’t mean the community.” She snickered at Joe’s grunt. “I mean, Ellen, the kids, Robbie, Henry,
and Johnny. Can we? We haven’t had the family together in a while. I’m making pasta and there’s . . .”

“Yes.”

“Oh, goodie because I just think with Dean leaving and . . .”

“Yes Andrea. You can do this. You don’t need to explain.”

“Thanks.” She reached for the door. “I think it would be nice don’t . . .”

“Andrea! Christ, I’m trying to get this done.”

Andrea gasped. “Was that tone necessary Joe Slagel? Oh, I don’t think. Do you?” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Well Mr. Attitude. We’ll just deal with this later. You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass out of my office now.” Her hand moved about. “Talking to me like that. Snapping at me. Sitting in my desk. Using
my
typewriter. Which by the way, I let no one use. Feel privileged, Joe.”

“Are you done?” Joe peered up at her.

“Yes.”

“Good. See you at home.” He waited and it didn’t take long. Andrea huffed and stormed from the office, slamming the door. Joe turned back to the typewriter.

He set down the requisition. He didn’t want to type on it, not wanting to waste I, so he grabbed a slip of scrap paper from Andrea’s little holder. He rolled it in the typewriter, bringing the paper up a little. He peered over his glasses, placed his hands on the keys, and then typed the words, ‘this is a warning’. After he hit the return key, and the words barely inched their way up, Joe knew. He didn’t even need to take the paper out of the typewriter. He pulled the future note from his pocket, just to double check. He compared both notes. There was no mistake about it, the faulty type, the cut off capital letters, and the blue and black ink running together. The future note’s irregular and defective print was a dead match for the irregular and defective print of Andrea’s typewriter.

Joe’s heart sunk.

“It doesn’t mean anything Joe.” Henry handed Joe back the future note and the one Joe typed. “Anyone could have snuck in there and used the typewriter. To me, it’s not conclusive.”

Joe sat behind his desk, actually Henry’s desk, leaning back in the chair,
and looking at the two notes that laid before him. “Robbie, what do you think?”

“
I hate to do it but I have to agree with Henry. Just because it was her typewriter, doesn’t mean it was Andrea.” Robbie said. “What does your gut tell you, Dad?”

“My gut.” Joe lifted the notes and dropped them. “My gut tells me . . . she typed the note. And . . .” Joe stopped when there was a knock at the door. “
We’ll discuss this later . . . Come in!” Joe sat back with an ‘I’ve been expecting you’ look on his face when Ellen, so frightened, walked in.

“Hey Joe.” Ellen
was wearing Dean’s jean jacket. She shut the door and shook her arms nervously. “Cold out there. Hi, Henry.” She looked at Robbie, who stood up. “Hi.”

Robbie inched his way to her as if Joe or Henry didn’t see him do it. He whispered
, “I need to talk to you later.”

“O.K.” Ellen looked around Robbie to see an impatient Joe. She waited until Robbie sat back down and then she took center room. “I’m still inconclusive on what is doing the killing. Our analysis program . . . um, it doesn’t . . .” She cleared her throat. “Excuse me. It doesn’t recognize the uh, animal.”

Joe slowly rocked in his chair. He brought his folded hands up to his chin. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Ellen said. “Whatever it is
, uh . . . goes for the jugular vein first. Most of the body wounds thereafter are not bleeders meaning it goes for the throat, ripping and tearing until all movement stops and then it eats.”

“The victim?” Joe questioned.

“Yes,” Ellen answered.

“And this is all you have for me.”

“Well it only eats the fleshy parts. And . . .” Ellen reached into the inside jacket pocket and pulled out a pump spray bottle. “Here.” She set it on Joe’s desk.

“What is this?” Joe picked it up.

“Um, it’s this super, uh, anti-animal formula me and I conjured up.”

“Super anti-animal formula
? For what?” Joe asked.

“It’s a mixture that will burn an animal
’s mouth on contact. If the men spray it on their neck, the second the animal bites him, the animal will go no further. You may have an injury but probably not a devastating mangled mess of a death.”

“Thank you for the colorful
commentary.” Joe looked at the bottle. “This will burn the animal’s mouth?”

“Yes. Really bad
ly too. O.K.? That’s the best I can do now. Bye.”

“Ellen
,” Joe called out to her as he held the bottle closely to his nose. “This smells like straight garlic.”

“Um . . . yeah. It is. Bye.” She hurried for the door again.

“Hold it.” Joe set the bottle down. “Since when did garlic burn an animal’s mouth.”

“It works on werewolves.” Ellen shrugged and lifted her arms.

“Vampires,” Joe corrected.

Robbie looked at Ellen. “This isn’t a joke because you said the animal rips apart the throat first
. Is it?”

“No.” Ellen shook her head. “It’ll work. Trust me. I think. Not ‘think’ that you should trust me. You should trust me. But think that it will . . .”

“Ellen,” Joe stated her name harshly. “You’re saying this is an animal. Garlic won’t burn an animal’s mouth.”

“That will.” Ellen pointed.

“It’s garlic,” Joe said.

“Yes.”

“Garlic won’t do it. It’s an animal, Ellen, not vampires. We don’t have vampires in Beginnings.”

Henry held up his finger. “If I
may, Joe. You
did
say you felt like you were in a Stephen King novel”

“Henry.” Joe looked at him.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t.” Joe grabbed the bottle. “Now
, Ellen . . .”

“Bye
, Joe.” Ellen waved and ran out the door.

Joe, angry
, stood up. “She knows something. I know she knows something.”

Robbie turned from the closed door to his father. “What can we do though
?”

“You and you.” Joe pointed to Henry and Robbie. “Can do nothing
but I have two doctors and a doctor wanna be who can pretty much make heads or tails out of her autopsy reports.” Joe sat back down. “And that’s where I’m gonna start.” He picked up his phone and dialed. “Andrea. It’s me. I have something you need to do for me.”

^^^^

“What are they doing?” John asked Jess who watched Frank and Dean.

“Staying out of sight while they talk.”

“They should be back inside. Someone is going to see them together out there.”

“Nah.
They’re hidden. Look.” Jess handed John the binoculars.

“Does it . . .” John lowered them from his face. “Does it look to you like they’re arguing?”

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t be arguing. Catching up, maybe. I mean, they haven’t seen each other in a while. They’re on the same side. They’re probably just discussing George really in-depth and it’s making them look like that.”

“Yeah.” John returned to watching them. “You’re probably right. What the hell could they possibly have to argue about anyhow
?”

^^^^

“Henry,” Frank said the name so insistently.

“No, Frank. Robbie.”

“Henry.”

“Robbie
,” Dean spoke argumentatively.

“This whole conversation is pretty fuckin stupid.”

“Go figure. You started it.”

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself, Frank.” Dean looked around to make sure they still remained behind the large storage building. He placed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Robbie.”

“Henry.”

“Frank, you haven’t been there in a month. I know.”

“Don’t matter Dean. I know.”

“What do you know?”

“I know that she was living with fuckin Henry to stay neutral between us and . . . and.” Frank pointed. “You and I are gone. He’s gonna jump on it, especially since he thinks you really left Beginnings for the
Society. In Henry’s eyes right now. You’re a gone man. I’m a dead man. He’s a lucky man and trust me. He’s gonna waste no time.” Frank nodded with assurance.

“O.K., O.K. you have a point. But . . .”

“No buts.”

“Yes Frank but. I’m saying with all certainty, Robbie
will go after Ellen.”

“Robbie!” Frank scoffed. “Why in the world would Robbie go after Ellen in our absence if he knows your coming back and he knows me
, his brother, is alive.”

“Because I told him to make it look like Ellen turned to him when I left. I . . . I told him to watch over her and take care of her.”

“Dean!” Frank blasted. “What the fuck? Oh, man.” Frank shook his head. “You gave the two most immoral people in Beginnings permission to play house. Oh, you have no one to blame if something happens. You gave the green light. You know Ellen.”

“I know
your brother too. That’s why I say Robbie’s taking advantage of us being gone. Of course I didn’t think they did after I heard they did it the one time in Ashtonville.”

“They didn’t
,” Frank said.

“They did.” Dean told him. “El
it happened when her and I broke up and she lived with him.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Dean nodded. “And bet me it’s happened before. But we can’t really get mad because we weren’t there in that history.”

“Technically we were
,” Frank said. “We just don’t know it.” He looked at his watch. “Shit, we’d better be splitting up. We’ve been out here long enough.”

Dean checked out the time also. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“I’ll head out first.” Frank began to walk. “Hey, Dean. Thanks for the talk. And work on that chemical.”

“I will. You work on my animal.”

Frank just grinned and kept on walking.

^^^^

Was Andrea home already?
Joe asked himself when he walked in the house, smelled the scent of food, and heard the . . . slamming of pots? “Andrea.” Joe walked in the kitchen.

“Joe.” Andrea kept her back to him. “
I pretty much have everything ready. I have to do something around dinner time at the clinic. A, uh . . . . patient. It won’t take long. Hand the salad duty over to someone, please.”

“What’s wrong?”

It was high pitched and so female. “Nothing.” She laid a lid on the pot. “I just a patient.”

“I’m not talking about the clinic. I’m talking about with you.”

“What do you mean, Joe? What’s wrong with me because I won’t make the salad?” She stirred the cooking pasta. “I hate warm lettuce and you know perfectly well if you break it too soon it turns brown. I don’t know about . . .”

“Andrea! For crying out loud.” Joe stepped to her. “You found something out
, didn’t you? When you, Jason, and Johnny looked into the autopsy you found something . . .”

SLAM! The metal pasta fork banged off the counter. Andrea spun coldly to Joe. “I found nothing.”

Joe’s eyes widened at the sudden switch in demeanor. “Excuse me?”

“And don’t you ever ask me to go behind a coworker
’s back again. You hear me? Leader, former leader, council member. I don’t care.” Her arms waved about. “There was nothing what so ever in those reports. None of us found anything, Joe. You!” Andrea pointed as she backed up. “Just want answers so badly that you will stoop so low as to go behind Ellen’s back to find out. There are no answers, Joe, and I feel really awful for doing your dirty work. From now out, if you want to play private investigator and find out what you think you know, then you do it. Stop asking everyone else to do it. Stop asking me!”

“Why are you so upset about this? I asked you to read her reports.”

“Without her knowledge.”

“Yeah. So.”

“It’s wrong.”

“Yeah so.”

Andrea grunted loudly. “I’ll tell you what your problem is, Joseph Slagel.”

“O.K. I’m game. Tell me
,” Joe said.

“Ellen said it was inconclusive
., but your problem is this isn’t the CIA. When the truth is staring you in the face, you don’t want to believe it because it’s not hidden behind anything. Well, Joseph, not all things are hidden deeply somewhere and sometimes you just have to take it for face value. Sometimes the most obvious truth really is the answer and this is just one of those cases.” Andrea stormed out.

Joe stared at the empty doorway. “In more situations than you realize
, Andrea, you made a valid point.”

^^^^

Quantico Marine Headquarters

George smiled as he hung up the phone and looked at Steward who stood before his desk.

“Good news
, sir, from Beginnings?” Steward asked.

“I don’t know. Could be.” George tilted his head with a smile. “Seems Beginnings has two men dead. Very violent killings.”

“And . . . does this have to do with us?”

“Aside that it’s just pleasant news to hear
, it may.” George leaned back in his chair with a pleased smile. “It just may.”

^^^^

Jess and John had to stay hidden deep in the brush so that the headlights from the four huge military trucks didn’t shine upon them. They were taking pictures then they needed to be when the trucks arrived. They were so engrossed with Frank standing on the roof of the one building, posing as if he were some hyped-up wrestler in an arena full of people. It was so evident that Frank knew from Dean that John and Jess were probably out there, scouting and taking surveillance photos. John and Jess took some good shots of Frank and had some laughs before the trucks pulled through the gate and stopped just inside. The arrival of the trucks shocked them but not as much as the regimented lines and lines of shaven-head soldiers who stared blankly and coldly as they marched right in.

“Shit.” Jess exclaimed.

“What?” John asked.

“CME’s.”

“What?”

“I estimate
that over two hundred of what you call SUTs, just made our chances of getting in that base a little tougher.”

^^^^

Dean kept looking
at the men who started to line up at the gate. They were waiting for someone but obviously not Frank. They were in the distance, but still Dean could tell by their expressions what they were. They weren’t all human. That was a quality they lost at the hands of some cyborg surgeon.

Dean would walk, stop, look
, and walk again to the lab building. He was so into the arrivals that he didn’t see Leonard walking out of the lab building. Dean nearly bumped into him.

“Dr. Hayes.”

“Leonard.” Dean tried to get passed him.

“Working late this evening
, I see.”

“I found some interesting compounds we don’t have in Beginnings. I wanted to look and work with them some more. Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all. President Hadley would be pleased to know of your curiosity.”

Dean grunted and moved to the double doors.

“Dr. Hayes.” Leonard’s call caused him to stop. “In your journeys across base, did you by chance run into Lt. Murphy? He’s the black man that stays with we ambassadors.”

“Nope.” Dean shook his head. “Losing men Leonard
? George won’t be pleased.”

“No he won’t. I’ll have to find our other lieutenant for the arrivals.”

“You do that.” Dean really wanted to tell Leonard he could care less. But he didn’t want to draw any attention to himself. He just kept walking. He went into the building, through the main lab, and passed the freezer room into the hideous hideaway--as Frank referred to it. Then Dean stopped. “Frank.” Dean immediately closed the door and shut the blinds. “What the hell is this?”

“Your test subject.”

Dean looked at the black man in uniform, tied and gagged to the chair. The man was sweating and his head was bleeding. “This . . . this is Lt. Murphy.”

“Yeah. Your point?”

“They’re looking for him, Frank.”

“Yeah.” Frank placed his hands on his hips. “And your point
?”

“They’re gonna know he’s gone.” Dean grew excited. “You can’t just kidnap and tie up everyone
, especially him. They’re gonna start to wonder what happened to him, Frank.”

“No they won’t.” Frank waved his hand. “
He’s at survival training.”

“Survival training?” Dean asked. “Where the hell is that
?”

“That’s the special secret place that all good
Society officers go.” Frank placed his finger to his own temple, imitated an explosion sound, and let his head drop to the right only before snickering.

“You’re sick.” Dean pointed.

“Yeah, and you have a test subject.”

“What are we gonna do with him while I figure out the chemical compounds
?”

“Aha.” Frank walked over to a counter, bent down
, and opened the large door underneath. “Quite cozy. While he’s tied up and gagged, no one will hear him.”

“That’s cruel.”

“It’s war and he’s our prisoner.”

Dean’s hand covered his eyes as he shook his head in whining debate. “Frank. Frank. Frank.”

“Dean. Dean. Dean. You gonna make him shrivel like in Colorado? Hey, Dean. Make it take a while, O.K.”

“Frank.” Dean cringed. “Enough of the sick comments. Let’s get him situated . . .”

“You gonna use him then?”

“I have no choice. We can’t set him free. Oh, if we get busted.”

“We won’t. If you don’t want him Dean, I’ll just take him out to survival training.” Frank began to place his finger in a gun fashion to his own temple again but Dean lowered his arm.

“Stop that. All right.” Dean looked at Frank. “Let’s take care of him. Then you, as fake C.O. here
, have another issue to deal with.”

“Like?”

“Like the two hundred SUTS that just marched in the front gate.”

“Fuck.” Frank took off.

“Frank!” Dean spun with his hand out but Frank was gone. “Damn it.” He turned around and looked at Lt. Murphy, who, frightened and shaken, stared at Dean as if for help. Dean shrugged, raised his eyebrows, and lifted his hands to the Lieutenant. “Sorry.”

^^^^