Ozark Retreat (4 page)

Others seemed to be getting concerned enough to begin making preparations, like the majority of Brady’s MAG that hadn’t been prepping for some time. They were getting put on back order lists for many of the items on the recommended equipment and supplies list that Brady and Barbara had developed for the MAG.

Brady’s chosen contractor began work on his housing unit in March, as did Harry’s, after a very mild winter in the area. Barbara’s unit was started in April, and the others in May. Except the world situation had calmed somewhat, and three of the participants were waffling on whether or not to continue in the MAG. One was a primary investor, the other two minor.

Not wanting anyone involved that wasn’t completely dedicated, he refunded most of their money, excepting the expenses he’d already expended on their behalf. Brady went ahead and began construction of the unit the primary participant that had opted out was going to do. He also brought in two additional contractors to begin building the common buildings.

Brady was only taking selected cases with the national firm so he was able to spend much of his time overseeing the construction, with Harry’s help. Harry had brought in a fifth-wheel travel trailer for him and his wife to live in during the construction phase. Brady just camped out while he was there.

But then Brady was called in for a big insurance case. He had to go under cover. The case took three months to break. During that entire time Brady refused to break cover, trusting Harry and Barbara to handle anything that came up at the compound. The case involved a substantial reward, which the company split with Brady. More money for preps, he decided. It all went into gold and silver coins.

When he finally got back to the compound he was impressed and pleased with the progress. Both his and Harry’s units were constructed, though not finished inside. Barbara’s was close, and the others were coming along nicely, as were the common buildings.

With the additional money from the buyout, Brady had started negotiations to get commercial power to the site. They had stalled, but during the three months Brady was gone Barbara had continued to pester the power company. They finally agreed to split the cost with the MAG of bringing in the new line from the nearest source.

The line would be pole mounted until it reached the compound. From the transformer bank at the edge of the main clearing the service lines would go underground. Brady had to do some tricky trench design work to get the main line into the compound perimeter to avoid the various tunnels.

Like he had done with co-workers and acquaintances in St. Louis, Brady had begun building up friendships within and around Branson. That included the Branson police and the county sheriff and his deputies. They introduced him to the Missouri Highway Patrolmen that worked the area.

They were well aware of the several survivalist compounds in the area. So far none had developed into the media description of survivalists, but they were keeping a wary eye on all of them they knew about.

Brady was fairly open with them all about what he was doing, without revealing too much. They seemed to appreciate his coming to them openly about the compound. It helped that he lent his talents to them on a couple of cases on an informal basis.

One of the Branson officers, as well as one of the sheriff’s deputies, contacted Brady and expressed an interest in joining the MAG. Brady was happy to invite them in as minor investors. He was relatively certain that each of them would keep their respective departments apprised of the goings-on of the MAG, but Brady was keeping it strictly legal, and decided the advantages outweighed the disadvantages.

Another was the farmer that was bringing in the manure for the garden plot. Brady convinced him to join the MAG as a no dollar investment outside member. The farmer would be responsible for the garden plot and orchard. His own farm would provide beef, chicken, pork, and dairy products at a reduced, guaranteed, price, for a spot in the compound for him and his family.

The MAG would finance some shelter space on site at the farm, and help provide security if it ever became necessary. It would also subsidize a fuel alcohol still and a small scale biodiesel production set up if the farmer would put some of his fields into good oil producing plants.

As the gaps between the existing walls became filled with the housing units the compound became a real compound. It was going into winter before all the housing units were completed. All the primary investors had used the same construction method as had Brady in his construction of the garage/utility building, creating fire and bullet resistant walls, even inside the compound.

Though the political situations around the world were still calm, Brady continued with the preparations, despite the winter coming on. He hoped for a mild winter like the one previous, but he didn’t count on it. It was well he didn’t. The final touches on three commercial green houses in the middle of the compound were completed in a light snowfall.

More of the solar water pumps were paralleled in the concrete water tank, and fed to a thousand-gallon pressure tank to provide the pressurized well water to all the buildings.

Two of the manufactured housing units Brady had ordered got stuck on the road coming in during a heavy rain. They wouldn’t be placed until the following spring, when they could be retrieved without damaging them.

The manufactured housing units were for the minor investors. Well insulated and efficient, they offered little ballistic and only moderate fire protection. The residents would use the community shelter if it became necessary. The units that made it were placed against the inside compound walls.

Two of the units were set up as dorms, each with a kitchen. One for men and one for women, for those single persons that were part of the MAG. The rest were single family housing units. The commercial power line was installed, and service lines connected to all the buildings.

Brady had substantially more housing availability than he did members of the MAG, but had wanted the extra for the probable late joiners he fully expected when things became really bad.

They certainly weren’t bad that late winter of 2008. The Summer Olympic Games had gone off without a hitch and China was the new darling boy on the block. The Chinese leadership had calmed down North Korea and supposedly put a stop to their nuclear weapons arsenal acquisitions. They had also backed off their rhetoric about Taiwan.

Even the Middle East was in cooperative mood, with half a dozen different peace talks going on among the various Arab/Muslim countries and Israel. The US’s only presence in Iraq now was their new embassy compound. The Sunni – Shi’ite internecine warfare was being kept low key. Gold prices began to drop, as did oil prices.

Brady lost another major investor and three minor ones. He bought out their equity and began looking for more people, concentrating on the local population. He didn’t find any. People were saying a true peace across the globe was in the works. Of course, that didn’t affect natural disasters. But even those had slowed down, the planet seeming to be in a resting state. At least that was the way Brady saw it. And he didn’t trust the final World Peace talk. He continued his personal preps.

It continued that way into 2010, then, as they say, balloons started going up all over. Heavy blizzard from Montana, North Dakota, and the UP of Michigan all the way down into Iowa, Nebraska, and Wyoming.

The Yellowstone Caldera began acting up. Mt. Vesuvius had a major eruption. China and Russia cancelled a scheduled joint military exercise, with harsh words for each other. Two of the new Republics went communist again. North Korea did another nuke test and a long range missile test within days of each other. China marshaled forces on the coast opposite Taiwan, when Taiwan began talking about an independence initiative. California had yet another major earthquake.

Oil prices jumped. Gold prices jumped. Former members of the MAG jumped to get back in. Brady let them, at full price, cash on the barrelhead. Two more of his ex-employees joined the MAG as minor investors. Three of the employees of the various contractors that had worked on the site joined. One as a major investor, two as minor.

Another local farmer, retired, wanted in. He and his family were welcomed. They would be the MAG greenhouse supervisors, as well as take care of the farm animal population when the animals were purchased. Brady had wanted some on-site production in addition to the agreement with the other farmer. Other members of the MAG would help.

Brady brought in another concrete contractor and added five-foot-high, two-foot-thick, crenellated parapet walls on top of the existing walls and buildings that comprised the compound building perimeter. The place suddenly took on the look of a rather short castle. But it was finished.

After contacting everyone in the MAG, they arranged a test run, with all but two people able to schedule a trip to the site. Both of those people had been there during the building process and knew the way.

The final purchases that Brady had made came in well before the first day of the test run. It was the community vehicles and equipment for gardening and maintenance. With the equipment on hand the contractors that were part of the MAG made the final connections of the tunnels to the various buildings. And exterior entrances were made for the ‘water tank’ blast shelter to use instead of the original access hatches.

Brady welcomed everyone and gave a tour of the place as people began arriving the first day of the test run. Several of the MAG members were unaware of the extent of the community aspects of the retreat. Most were pleased. A tiny handful were vocal about where their money was spent. Brady offered to buy them out. All refused and let it go.

It was the first time many of the MAG members had met. Brady made it obvious that he was in overall charge, and final arbitrator of all disputes. But he encouraged them to get together, get to know one another, and work out the group dynamics of who would be in charge of what aspect of the community, and set up a division of labor for the various community tasks.

One of the first tasks set up for that first day of the two-day event was to organize an inspection and approval of everyone’s MAG required equipment and supplies. There was a wide disparity in preparedness states. Several people were encouraged to upgrade what they already had. More than a few were congratulated on their state of preparedness. No one was asked to reveal their entire preparations, only the MAG mandated ones.

Everyone left with a better understanding of what the retreat provided them and their responsibility to it and the MAG, beside the monetary aspect of it. The second farmer and his wife decided to take up permanent residence. That would allow the acquisition of the farm animals. Two of the minor investors were college students and agreed to stay and help during the summer school break for just a small salary.

Harry was recovered and ready to go back to the agency, but his wife didn’t want him to go back. She was afraid he might be killed. So Harry took a dispatching job with the county and he and his wife and first child also took up permanent residency. Brady was satisfied that the place would be well looked after while he continued to work.

CHAPTER FIVE

Brady worked for the corporation until late in 2010, when his two-year contract was up. He didn’t renew it. The company was giving him basic cases, using salaried agents to work the more lucrative insurance recovery cases that Brady was so good at solving.

He continued to work, mostly as a courier, respecting the non-competition agreement he’d signed for the company. Brady had specifically exempted courier work from the agreement, along with a couple of other lines of work that he enjoyed that wouldn’t really impact the company if he was on the playing field.

It was on the return trip into St. Louis after a New York to LA courier delivery that Brady heard the news about Taiwan. The Captain of the aircraft announced it. The sitting Taiwanese government had passed a resolution to call a constitutional congress as the first step to Independence. China had begun to attack the near coast of Taiwan, in preparation to invade.

Brady didn’t quite hold his breath until they landed, but he would have if he could have. He felt much better when he was sitting in the Suburban, armed again. He listened to the news as he drove toward his apartment.

His landline was ringing when he arrived at the apartment. It was Barbara, asking him if he’d heard the news.

“Yeah. On the plane.”

“We’re bugging out first thing in the morning,” Barbara told him. “What about you?”

“Maybe. I want to see how this begins to track out. I have another job I’m supposed to start Monday.”

“You hear the weather forecast?”

“No. I haven’t. Why?”

“An arctic front is headed this way. They’re predicting a foot of snow accumulation here by Saturday morning. Freezing rain twenty miles north and south of an east west line through Poplar Bluff. You know what ice storms do to that country.”

“Yeah. Look. I just don’t know. I think you’re smart to leave tomorrow. Don’t be surprised if you see me in your rearview mirror. But don’t count on it, either.”

“You take care, Brady. Don’t wait too long, if this Taiwan situation gets worse. I know you are a dedicated worker, even independently, but don’t let it get you killed.”

“I won’t. Promise. I gotta go. Just in case, I’m going to go fuel up the Suburban. It’s down to three-quarters.”

“Shame. Shame. ‘Bye.”

Brady hung up the phone and went back to the parking garage. It took him a good half an hour to get to the local station and fill the Suburban’s tanks with diesel. He kept the radio on to listen to the news.

The US government had issued a strong protest and called a UN Security Council session. Two carrier groups were ordered to sail at full steam to the area. China was warning off all nations to stay out of its local affairs. Taiwan was part of China and would remain so.

Brady stayed up late, watching the news. All the news networks had it as lead and secondary stories. Brady knew nothing would be resolved that night. He made sure his SAME NOAA NWS radio had fresh batteries in it. He put it on the nightstand beside his bed.

No alarm sounded during the night. Brady got up the next morning and went out for breakfast. At nine o’clock sharp he called the client he was to work for the following Monday. It was now Thursday morning. He talked the client into letting him pick up the package that afternoon for delivery Friday afternoon. The client didn’t like it, but Brady didn’t leave him much choice.

He had worked for him before and was not too impressed with his business or his interpersonal skills. Had he known what the package was this time, he would have turned down the job. Previously it had always been small, extremely expensive museum quality art objects going to private collectors. Brady had checked the man out and there were no indications of illegal activities, but Brady always felt greasy after dealing with him.

When he arrived at the man’s studio, he immediately smelled a rat. Parkinson was waiting for him, a frown on his face. Sitting casually in a chair nearby was a woman, dressed in red. Brady took a second look. She smiled a friendly smile at him and he had to smile in return.

“Let’s go into my office,” Parkinson said, leading the way. “Normally I don’t like to be rushed,” he said as soon as the door closed behind Brady. “But you may have a point. The weather could delay you if you wait to leave Monday. And I promised delivery by Wednesday of next week in Kansas City.”

“At least it isn’t across the country the way it usually was, just across the state,” Brady thought. “What’s the package this time?”

Brady didn’t like the way Parkinson hesitated and shifted his eyes. “You know I won’t do anything illegal.”

“It’s not illegal,” Parkinson quickly said. “It’s just sort of unusual,” Parkinson hesitated again, and then said, “You saw the woman out there? It’s her.”

“Her? Are you joking?” Brady was incensed. He turned around when the door opened behind him.

“You tell him about me?” asked the woman in red. She moved to stand at the end of Parkinson’s desk, staring inquisitively at Brady.

“Sort of. Just that you were the package.”

“You look like a big girl,” Brady said. “I doubt you need a baby sitter on a trip to KC.”

“Actually I’m only a B-cup,” she said, taking Brady totally by surprise at her announcement. “And Daddy says I need a keeper, not a baby sitter.”

“I’m not getting involved in some kind of kidnapping situation,” Brady said, thinking suddenly of LaRhonda.

“It’s not kidnapping,” Parkinson immediately said.

“Then what’s the problem of her getting on a plane or a bus and heading out on her own?”

Parkinson as much as wrung his hands in misery. “It’s complicated.”

“Money,” Red said. “I don’t have any. Spent every last dime Daddy put in the credit card account. He won’t let me use American Express.”

“So have him wire you some. Or get Parkinson here to spring for the ticket.”

“Don’t want to. Want Daddy to pay for it. He won’t.”

“Look, Collingsworth… Cut me a break, will you? He one of my biggest customers.” He glared at Red. She just grinned at him. “And she knows it. She won’t go home unless I hire a bodyguard, and turn around and charge her father for it.”

“You knew about this a week ago and don’t already have it sorted out?” Brady asked, more than a little annoyed.

“I can be difficult,” Red said, again rather matter-of-factly. “Daddy always says so. So it must be true.”

“I’m out of here,” Brady said, rising from the chair.

Red made chicken clucking noises. Brady turned as red as Red’s hair and outfit.

“Tell you what, Pretty Boy; I’ll add triple to what you’re getting from him, if you do it.” She nodded toward Parkinson.

“You said you spent every dime. It doesn’t sound like your father would fork it over when I get there,” Brady replied, his annoyance growing at Red’s calm demeanor.

“Actually, I’m lying.”

“About what? Being out of money or paying me?”

Red grinned. “Yes.”

Brady almost growled. “How old are you? You’re acting like a sixteen-year-old.”

“Why, thank you. But no. I’m legal. I’m twenty-six.”

Brady couldn’t help it. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. She sure looked a lot closer to sixteen than she did twenty-six.

It took a moment, but Brady finally responded. “No. It’s ridiculous.”

Red made the clucking sounds again. “Stop that,” Brady said.

“Come on,” she said. “It’s just a game. Play it and win and you’ll be rewarded.”

“Wait a minute,” Brady said, frowning, “why wouldn’t I be successful? You said you were willing to go, just with an escort.”

“Well, things just sort of happen around me. Daddy always says so.”

“Lord have mercy,” Parkinson said. “She’s right. She’s a jinx.” Red stuck her tongue out at him.

That settled it for Brady. There was no way he was going to saddle himself with her, with everything going on, jinx or not. She was just too unstable. He felt his conscience twinge as he turned to leave. Red moved over to him and linked her left arm through his right. “By the way. Don’t ever call me Red. I know you were thinking it,” she said as they were walking out the office door.

Brady struggled just slightly, but her grip was firm. He resigned himself to the fact that he was escorting her to Kansas City. “Okay. Deal. Don’t call me Pretty Boy. My name is Brady. What should I call you?”

“Daddy calls me Precious.”

“I am not going to call you Precious!” Brady insisted. “What is your given name?”

“Precious.”

Brady groaned.

“I know,” she said then, laughing at him, “I always figured that if I ever had to be an exotic dancer to make a living if Daddy cut me off, I’d use the name Star. You can call me that.”

Brady didn’t respond to that directly. He asked, “Where are your bags and things.”

“The hotel is holding them. I haven’t paid the bill.”

“Great. I’ll spring for it. I’ll make sure Parkinson pays me back.”

“Actually, I’ll send them the money when I get back home. Take my word for it, it will be cheaper on you to buy me new than to get my stuff out of hock.”

“You don’t really need anything else,” Brady said. It’s only a long day’s drive.”

“Actually I do,” she said, leaning over toward him as if to whisper confidentially. “You see, it’s that time of the month. I need the works.”

Brady hung his head for a moment, and then turned on the turn signal, checked the traffic behind and moved into the left turn lane. “There’s a mall just up here,” he said.

“You are so sweet, Brady.”

“Don’t push it… Star.”

Star giggled.

Brady pulled into the mall and stopped. He gave Star two hundred in twenties. “Just get what you really need. I’ll wait here.”

“Spoilsport,” Star said. But she took the money and got out of the Suburban.

Brady saw her shiver. Then she was jogging toward the mall entrance. He turned on the news to see what was going on. It wasn’t good. The local weather or the world news.

He almost didn’t recognize her when Star approached the truck. Before she’d been red. Now she was blue. Blue jeans, blue shirt, blue denim jacket. What broke the color scheme was the St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap. It was red.

She opened the second seat passenger door and set three shopping bags inside, and then climbed into the front passenger seat. She handed Brady some money. He was a bit surprised there was as much as there was.

He put it away and started the Suburban. “Ready?” he asked, looking over at her.

She nodded and buckled up. Brady headed out of town, finally picking up Interstate 70 west. Before they left the suburbs Brady pulled into a Bonanza Steak House and they ordered dinner while the sun was going down. Star had a healthy appetite, Brady noticed, though she didn’t gorge. She did pass on dessert, as did Brady. Then they were on the road again, the light almost gone

“Can we listen to some music?” She asked after a while.

“I really want to keep it on the news, with everything going in like it is.”

“Sure,” Star replied. “I don’t really mind. What’s going on really brings out how petty I am about this doesn’t it?”

Brady glanced at her, but brought his eyes back to the road. Traffic was heavy. He didn’t say anything.

“Oh, it’s okay. I know how I am. I do it on purpose to get attention. Usual story, I won’t bore you with it other than to tell you I love my father and he loves me despite how I have made it sound.”

Star was silent for a while and then asked, “What do you think about all this stuff that is going on? Are we at real risk of war?”

“I think so,” Brady said.

“It is history repeating itself. People just never seem to learn from the past,” Star said with a sigh.

“That is so true,” Brady said, surprised and pleased at Star’s remark. “You seem to have a good grasp of history.”

“I should. It was my major in college. I intended to become a teacher. Didn’t work out. The career counselor recommended against it. I was too independent minded, though she didn’t put it that way.”

“I can see that,” Brady said with a smile directed at Star. “Seems like much of the education system is more interested in teaching a politically correct agenda than having independent thinking going on.”

“Don’t get me started,” Star replied with a snort. “So. What do you do besides escorting devilish children home?”

Brady found himself telling her all about his detective career. Star listened, keeping quiet, except for the occasional prompting question. Then Brady yawned hugely. “We’re going to have to stop,” He told Star. “I need some rest.”

“Okay. I’m sleepy, too. I can’t sleep when traveling.”

It was another thirty minutes before they came to a motel with a vacancy sign on. Star followed Brady inside the office when he stopped the Suburban. Star stood nearby, looking through the tourist brochure rack while Brady arranged for the rooms. She was surprised when he came over to her so quickly.