GHOST_4_Kindle_V2 (49 page)
Authors: Wayne Batson
“I’m a cardiac surgeon, not a detective,” he said. “Ha, sounded like Dr. McCoy there.” He fished around in his desk drawer and retrieved a card. “Not sure what help I can offer, but such as it is, you have it.”
“Thank you,” I said. I stood.
“That it then?” Doc Shepherd asked.
“I have another mission.”
“Can you tell me?” he asked. “Did you get the killer, Smiling Jack?”
“There were two killers,” I replied. “And yes, I got them.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t care for any loss of life,” he said. “But this…this was different. I read their Manifesto. Have you?”
I shook my head.
“Well, don’t bother,” he said. “It’s the most heinous diatribe I’ve ever encountered. Is it true they were going to kill those women on TV and online in real time?”
I nodded. “In their twisted logic,” I said, “they saw it as a sacrifice for the greater cause.”
“Sick.”
“I agree.”
I took Doctor Shepherd’s card. We shook hands again. And I left.
When the elevator doors opened onto the first floor. I found Agent Rezvani waiting for me.
She didn’t look happy.
Chapter 47
“Am I under arrest?” I asked.
“You son of a—”
“Careful,” I cautioned.
Suddenly, Deanna Rezvani, Special Agent of the FBI, was hugging me. I felt the wetness of tears on my neck.
“I…I thought you were dead,” she whispered.
“Came close,” I said. “Several times. You had Doc Shepherd working for you, right? He called you?”
She laughed, drew back, and wiped tears. I left the elevator, and we walked through the atrium. I glanced up the silly cherubs one last time. I think Rez noticed. She followed my line of sight and laughed.
“So are you going to arrest me?” I asked as we departed the hospital.
“No, I’m not going to arrest you,” Rez replied, making a face. “You’re clear of the killings at the police station. The closed circuit shows…well, it shows some strange stuff, but it’s pretty clear you didn’t kill those officers or the inmates. The whole state—shoot, half the nation—is still screaming for an arrest. Barnes still wants to bring you in for questioning, but he can suck an egg.”
“Can you give me a ride, then?” I asked.
“Where to?” she asked. “Wanna get a drink, maybe?”
“That would be nice,” I said. “I could use some coffee, but I need to be somewhere.”
“Where?”
“The airport.”
The first ten minutes of the drive were curiously silent, but I felt an electric tension in the air, all radiating from Agent Rezvani.
“We wouldn’t have gotten them,” she said at last, her eyes fixed on the highway. “Without you, I mean.”
“The girls? Please tell me they made it.”
“Yeah, yeah they did. They’re reunited with their parents. There’ll be a lot of dark days and nights…a lot of therapy.”
I nodded. I knew there would be.
“Have you seen the news?”
“No,” I said. “Why?”
“The bastards won,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Garrison Lacy and Jacqueline Gainer are dead.”
“I know that,” Rez said. “We fished their bodies out of the Gulf. But their message went out.”
I closed my eyes tight. I knew I wasn’t going to like the answer, but I asked anyway. “The Supreme Court?”
Rez whispered, “Roe v. Wade stands.”
I inhaled. I exhaled. But I didn’t understand.
“What’s wrong with this country,” Rez muttered.
“I thought you were Pro Choice.”
“I…well, I was,” she said. “But then…I met you.”
She took the first airport exit, but she was driving more slowly than she usually did.
“Is there something else?” I asked.
“There are a lot of something elses,” she replied, releasing an exasperated sigh. “You’re a freakin’ angel.”
“I don’t think I can answer your questions, not all of them, anyway.”
“But what about God?” she said. “I mean, if you’re real…well, that means…”
“Yes,” I said.
She opened her mouth to say something more, but closed it. She was silent until we got closer to the airport. “What airline?”
“Delta.”
She cruised up to the Delta terminal. “I see you got your silver case back,” she said.
“I try not to go anywhere without it.” I opened the car door, stepped out.
“Hey,” she called.
I leaned down. “Thank you, Agent Rezvani,” I said. “Rez, I mean. You have no idea what an impact your deeds have wrought.”
“Whoa, now that’s some angel talk right there,” she said. She was quiet a moment. Then, she said, “I don’t suppose you want to tell me where you’re headed?”
I smiled. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll know when I get to the desk.”
“Uh, huh,” she said. “I’m not going to see you again…am I?”
“Probably not,” I replied. “I don’t maintain relationships well.”
Rez laughed. “Neither do I.” She smiled, and there was an entire novel unspoken in that smile.
I walked away.
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
When I came to the Delta desk, I found myself saying, “I need to book a flight to Atlanta.”
“We have flights to ATL leaving pretty much all afternoon,” the Delta rep said.
“What’s soonest?”
“Flight 491 leaves in 30 minutes.”
“Sold,” I said.
I paid cash for my ticket to Atlanta. Seventy bucks. That was all. Not bad. That left me $523. And that was odd. Every mission, every time, cost me exactly what I’d been given…to the dollar. But I had half a grand left, and the mission was over.
I mulled that until I fell asleep on the flight to Atlanta, Georgia.
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
I wandered Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, the world's busiest airport, and realized why it was called the world’s busiest airport. I was surrounded at every turn by a sea of travelers. Still, I kept walking. A mission was certainly calling me but it wasn’t quite clear. As I meandered, I reflected on the message of Forneus.
I have started a war…not a war between our kinds.
What did that mean? Somewhere, I’d need to find a waypoint. I’d need to talk with Anthriel again. I’d need to find out just what sort of war I’d catalyzed.
Speaking of war, I drew a couple of suspicious glares from the airport guards. I suspect they didn’t care for my taste in carry-on luggage. I wasn’t worried. When I switched on Security Mode, my silver case would radiate an image to any scanner or X-ray. They would see that I was merely a professional photographer carrying a high-end digital camera and an array of accessories.
Moments later, I drifted away from the crowd mass and found myself at the Iceland Air counter. “I need a one-way ticket to Scotland,” I said, blinking in surprise at my own words.
“Edinburgh or Glasgow?” the Iceland Air associate asked.
I paused for a moment. Then, I asked, “Could you tell me which flight would cost exactly $523, including tax?”
The associate looked at me as if he’d just eaten something that he wasn’t quite certain he liked. “Uh…let me check,” he said. He tip-tapped on the keys a bit. “How…son of a gun, to the dollar! Edinburgh would be $523…exactly.”
I smiled. It always works that way. “Looks like I’m heading to Edinburgh then.”
* * *
* * *
* * *
* * *
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’re going to depart a little early. Trying to beat the storm out of here. Should be clear sailing once we get out over the Atlantic, but until then, you’ll need to remain seated with seat belts in place.”
I leaned toward the window. A pretty substantial wall cloud had formed just to our east. Lightning flickered beneath it. Thunder came fifteen seconds later.
As the plane accelerated down the runway, I leaned back in my seat. I had a rather impressive-looking pair of headphones on, the cord running directly into my silver case at my feet. I let the subtle music of the Memory Wash relax me. Soon, the death and sorrow of Smiling Jack would be gone. By the time the plane landed in Scotland, I’d have left all the psyche-shattering misery behind. But, I wondered about a decision I’d made.
It wasn’t what I chose to forget. It was what I chose to remember.
The nose went up. The wheels left the ground. The plane leapt skyward. Thunder rumbled again as we climbed. I heard some of the other passengers muttering worriedly about the storm.
I didn’t care. I love storms.
Divine violence.
The End
Acknowledgements:
GHOST
is my first solo eBook. It is also the first book I’ve written with adult readers in mind. It absolutely would never have happened if it weren’t for the help of more people than I could ever hope to mention. If you helped me, and I neglected to mention you, remind me. The next round’s on me.
To my wife Mary Lu
, you believed I could do it, and you struggled with me over the four years that led to GHOST happening. I pray the result is worthy of the love you’ve shown me.
To my four kids, now teenagers:
Kayla, Tommy, Bryce, and Rachel
: Thank you for understanding why you know the back of my head so well. Thank you for sharing your Dad with a whole bunch of readers! I love you!
To Mom and Dad
: over the years of my adulthood, you’ve fed me some pretty brilliant thriller writers to learn from. Thank you for your voracious reading appetite, your endless generosity, and your unfailing love.
To Leslie, Jeff, and Brian
: You guys rock. Thank you for memories past, present, and future. Siblings like you make life a story waiting to happen.
To The Dovel Fam:
I scored HUGE with in-laws like you. Seriously, thank you for friendship, fellowship, and support.
To Christopher Hopper
, my brother in arms and kindred spirit: I cannot thank you enough for all the writing sessions, advice, laughs, and commiseration. Here’s to many, many more books from both of us. Schiiiing!
To Friends:
DougS, DaveP, ChrisH, AlexD, MatD, DanS, WarrenC, ToddW, CameronS, DawnH, AlainaH, SusanM, ChrisS, NoelleD, and so many others…thank you for “doing life” with me.
Steve Poole & Philip Gallman
: Thanks for the key information about marine radar.
Astrid and the team at Literature and Latte:
the Gift-from-God company that gave us Scrivener, the best writing software on the planet: thank you for all the help with the eBook and CreateSpace versions of GHOST.
GHOST Patrons:
all my readers ROCK, but you all are a special kind of insane!
• Jay Goebel • Declan Ross • Jadi Verdin • Elizabeth Hornberger • Morgan Babbage • Brent Ammann • and Lindsay Renea! Thank you for inspiration, enthusiasm, and relentless hunger for new books!
Laura G. Johnson:
for fantastic proofreading and some stellar creative input. Your meticulous efforts made the book much better!
The Door Within
Rise of the Wyrm Lord
The Final Storm
