Lies Among Us
part 13
by Mythe
READ DISCLAIMERS IN CHAPTER 1
Copyright 2000 by Mythe. All rights reserved.
After a three hours on the Cessna with a reserved Arron. We finally make our descent towards our destination. Where I have no clue. I turned to our host and inquired, “Can you at least tell us where we are?”
“Birmingham, Alabama.”
“Wow,” Sam voiced, looking out her window. “I've never been here.”
“Well, when you said it was safe house…” I sighed, feeling the plane landing. “I suppose it's in the middle of a forest right?”
“You could say that…” Arron revealed, moving towards the cockpit. “Don't worry, we'll be there soon.”
“Great…” I muttered, feeling the craft slow down and park. I leaned over and picked up my envelope and placed in waistband of my jeans.
Sam unbuckled her belt and spoke up, “Well, at least we're away from those NSA agents.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, knowing full well it could be worse. I released my belt and stood up, stretching. “Let's get to this SAFE house.”
Arron moved to the door, pulled the lever and the door opened. She pushed the button and the ladder extended towards the pavement. She stepped outside and recognized the Sedan that was parked, waiting. “Ladies, our ride is here.”
“After you, Angel…” I gestured, stepping to the side.
“Why, thank you Taylor…” she said, taking my hand in hers and leading me out of the plane. She glanced up into the afternoon sky for a moment then, descended down the stairs.
I followed behind, taking a quick glimpse of the area around us. Ground crews were scattered around, working on various jets and pre-flight checks. Sam squeezed my hand and pulled me towards the car. “Sorry…”
Arron opened door for us, “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” Sam thanked and climbed in first.
“Thanks,” I said and sat down next to her.
Arron closed the door and got into the front passenger seat. “Drive,” she ordered to the driver.
The Driver turned the ignition on, placed it in gear and pulled out.
I observed our driver for a moment. He had short blond hair, pale skin, average looks and a buff torso. The first thing that came to my mind was a bodyguard of some type. His brown eyes glanced back at me through the rear view mirror, making contact before he turned back to the road ahead. Huh…he seemed to recognize me. Hell, he was probably briefed on us as well.
Sam whispered, “Are you alright?”
I nodded, “Yeah…I just don't like all this secretive stuff. I can't tell who the bad are from the good.”
She gently squeezes my hand and expressed, “Since, I have my Warrior with me…I feel safer now than ever before.”
“Awww…” I voiced, as a grin overcame me. Leaning over to plant my lips upon hers and was interrupting by my cell phone vibrating against me. “Damn…” I muttered, answering it. “Taylor, here.”
An altered voiced spoke up, “Well, I hope that your trip went pleasant enough.”
“Just fine…so, were you the one who gave me the DVD and photo of my Father?”
“I presume that Arron's been a good host. If you're wondering, she's there to protect you both.”
“Just answer the question,” I growled back.
“Yes…did you enjoy them?”
“How dare you-”
“Now…now, Detective…the disk is invaluable and the picture, a wake up call.”
“What do you mean?”
“Who's after you?”
“The NSA…” I retorted. “They wanted to clean-up their little mess…but, my Father-”
“Was assassinated,” the voice finished.
“WHAT?” I gasped, “Who are you? And how would you know-”
“Let's say I have friends in high places,” the voiced paused and continued, “About me…well, I'm a concerned friend.”
“A friend?” I chuckled at the thought, calming down a bit and dared. “Then prove it.”
“There's a envelope under Arron's seat. Inside will be another piece to your puzzle.”
I reached under her seat and pulled out an envelope. “I found it,” I stated, ripping it opened.
“The view from the cabin's patio is breath taking…until later.”
“What?” I uttered, “Wait…” They hung up, leaving me to hear the dial tone. “Damn….” I grumbled, hanging the phone up and placed it back in its case.
Sam whispered, “Was it the same person from earlier?”
“Yes,” I nodded, pulling out a two-page profile. I began to read through it and realized that my Dad had written it up. “This was his last profile…”
“Really?” Sam leaned over and glanced down at it, “Of whom?”
“A Dr. Fredrick S. Moore, he specialized in genetics…” I revealed and continued, “Moore was testing an experimental drug.”
“What kind of drug?”
I shook my head, “It's blacked out, but it goes on and says that subjects were delusional with psychotic symptoms. All four patients had one thing in common. They were all clinically depressed.”
“Well, delusional and psychotic symptoms are rare in depression suffers.”
“All signs of depression were non-existent before the attack. Each subject would turn brutally violent towards its victim. Until said victim is dead, then the subject would turn passive after the attack. The subject would have no memory of the act and become catatonic.”
“I know there was a Genetic behavior program that dealt with influence behavior, memory, emotionality, learning and cognition.” Sam thought about a moment, “I haven't read anything about drug that would cause that. Especially one that was made in the 80's.”
“It says here that they caught three of the subjects and fourth was still at large.”
“Does it describe the Doctor at all?”
I read through the profile and shook my head, “It's blacked out…half of this report is blacked out also.”
“Why?”
“Security,” I revealed, “The Government doesn't want anyone to know too much.”
“So, the Government has a drug that can make one into a vicious killer one second and catatonic the next.”
“But, what's new about that?” I added, placing the report back in the envelope and noticed that there was a photo inside. “What do we have here?” I pulled out an 8 x 10 color photo.
“I have a weird feeling that this has something to do with the drug that created those werewolves,” she remarked and inquired, “Another photograph?”
I silently stared at it. The picture was taken the day of my Father's funeral. I stood there holding the flag and staring down at the coffin as it was being lowered. It was a close up of me. There were two gentlemen standing in the background as well. The one on the left was a dark haired young man in a black suit. Hair trimmed, body fit and his eyes were staring directly at me. The other, a blond haired man was whispering something into his ear. “Who…” I flipped the photo over and read the back. “Taylor Rineheart (F), Dr. Moore (L) and Agent Holston (R).”
“Who is it of?”
“It was taken at my Father's funeral,” I informed, handing it to her. “Our mysterious Dr. Moore is on the left. The man on the right was my Father's Supervisor, Agent Holston.”
“Really?” she said, staring at the photo. “Did your Father know this Dr. Moore?”
“No, not as far as I know…” I shook my head and added, “Well, our 'friend' said it was piece in the puzzle…”
“What puzzle?”
“Our predicament and my Father's death…somehow they're linked,” I revealed, feeling the car slow down and park. I glanced out the window and finally noticed the elegant cabin that stood before us. “I guess we're here.”
Sam looked over in awe and voiced, “Wow.”
Arron opened the door and gestured, “Ladies, if you would follow me.”
I climbed out first, observing our new surroundings. There was dense forest that encircled the expensive home and gravel road that led towards the highway. I guess this safe enough…we have forest to hide in.
Sam took my hand in hers and pulled me towards the cabin. “Who lives here?” she asked, staring at the modern design and enjoying its beauty. “This is just too beautiful-”
“I do,” Arron replied, unlocking the door. “This is my home…I share it with my partner.”
“You're letting us stay in your home?” I uttered aloud and added, “We can't stay here.”
“Yes,” she nodded, “You both are our guests,” Arron said, turning to me and decreed. “My partner invited you both here. Besides…when my partner decides to do something…it pretty much becomes law around here.”
“So, do you work for your partner as well?” Sam inquired, “Care to enlighten us with their name?”
“Yes, Sam on occasion…” Arron responded, “Nice try.”
“Are we just supposed to stand around here and wait?” I grumbled, pacing.
“Yes,” Arron responded and pointed towards the stairs, “Your room is the first door on the left. There are some clothes in the closet for both of you to change into if you prefer. Dinner will be served in an hour. Until then, make yourselves comfortable.”
“Thank you, Arron…” Sam thanked and whispered, “Come on Babe,” pulling me towards the stairs. “We need to relax anyway.”
FBI HEADQUARTERS
KANSAS CITY, MISSIOURI
“RING…RING!!!”
An older gentleman was leaning back in his leather chair, reading a file. Blond hair accented with a touch of gray and his skin tanned along with a few more added wrinkles. He leaned over and picked the phone up. “Agent Holston,” he answered and continued reading the file.
An altered voice greeted, “Good evening, Robert. Oh, by the way don't even waste the time in trying to trace this.”
“Who is this?”
“Someone who has some damaging evidence on you, Sir”
“What do you mean?” Holston inquired, laying the folder down before him.
“Let's say suppressing information on a murder investigation for one.”
“I don't have a clue on what you talking about!” he retorted, “I don't have to listen to this.”
“I have a document that has Dr. Moore's name upon it. I do believe that it's a profile on him and his test subjects. It was by one of your Special Agents by the name of Rineheart.”
“There is no such document-”
“Ahh…but there is you see. You should be getting a envelope soon and you'll see the proof,” remembering something else, “Oh, it's only a copy.”
“KNOCK…KNOCK!!”
“Come in,” Agent Holston called out.
A dark haired secretary entered and apologized, “I'm sorry Sir, but this just arrived.” She then held out a manila envelope before him.
“Thank you, Grace…” he said, taking it from her and ripped it open. “That will be all.”
She nodded and silently exited out of the room.
“So, what do you think?”
Agent Holston removed the contents and quickly read over it. His skin paled, as he read the closing remarks: 'Dr. Moore must have connections to high-ranking officials and may have immunity in all jurisdictions. I'm afraid that my Supervisor Agent Holston may be one of the connections. I have photo's of their transactions to prove this.' Damnit…I thought I burned all the evidence. He wiped the sweat from his brow and grumbled, “This isn't real!”
“Check the envelope and see for yourself.”
Holston dumped the contents upon his desk and there laid a proof page filled with tiny photographs. They all contained Dr. Moore and him meeting at different locations. “What do you want?” he inquired, finally giving in.
“Good…I thought you'd see it my way.”
OUTSIDE THE CABIN
The Driver was in the process of wiping the hood off with cheesecloth, when his cell phone rang. He stopped and quickly answered it, “Hello?”
THE STUDY
Arron sat behind her large oak desk, diligently typing into her laptop. She sat back in her chair, picking up the remote and pressing a button. The stereo's volume moved up a notch, releasing 'Enya's' beloved voice for all to hear.
A young blond entered, wearing a maid's uniform and carrying a tray with a glass of white wine upon it. “Ma'am, dinner will be served in few minutes.”
Arron took the glass, “Thank you, Megan. I shall be there in moment. Go head and inform the our guests.”
“Yes, Ma'am…” she nodded, leaving her.
She had a small sip from her wine and whispered, “God…hope this turns out well.” She finished reading her message and pressed enter, sending it off.
“KNOCK…KNOCK!!”
“I'll be right with you,” Sam called out, moving towards the door.
I observed the Driver having a long conversation from our opened bedroom window. I've stood here for a few minutes trying to listen in, but to no avail. So far, I've heard him laugh, mutter inaudible things and maybe even an actual word or two. Damn…it's not like I'm doing anything anyway. Sam has been in the restroom for the past twenty minutes, getting dressed and making herself presentable for dinner. She kinda' kicked me out after our bathing session. You have to cleanse every nook and cranny. Sometimes a few more times just to make sure you're completely clean. You know? One question…why do women take so much time getting dressed? Don't get me wrong…it takes me less than five minutes to shower and dress.
Sam opened the door and greeted, “Hello, there.”
The maid stood before her, “Good evening Ma'am. Dinner will be served in a few minutes.”
“Thank you, we'll be down in minute.”
“Very good, Ma'am.”
Sam left the door ajar and spoke up, “Taylor, are you ready?”
“Of course…” I replied, turning to her voice and was in awe at her beauty. About that question…nevermind. “Sam, you're breathtaking!” I gasped, staring at the red Oriental style cocktail dress that hugged all her curves.
Sam blushed and slowly spun around, modeling for me. “You think?” she purred with eyes that burned of desire, “Well, you're very sexy in that Armani suit.”
I was instantly before her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her close to my body. “You know…we could just stay here,” I suggested, feeling my body aching for her touch.
She fixed my tie and gently ran her hands over my chest. “I know…but we are Arron's guests remember?”
“Yeah…” I nodded, lowering my head in defeat. “But when we get back…you're all mine.”
“I wouldn't want it any other way,” Sam expressed, pulling me in for a searing kiss.
THE DINNING ROOM
“Good evening ladies,” Arron greeted and approached the dinning table.
Sam and I entered into the large room. I led my love to the chair on our host's left.
“Thank you, for having us…” I responded, pulling out the chair for Sam.
Sam sat down and thanked her again, “Arron, the clothes are elegant…thank you.”
“It's my pleasure,” Arron expressed, sitting down. “Think nothing of it, Sam. Shopping, can be a spiritual experience at times.”
I moved around the table and sat to the right of Arron. “How did you know our sizes?” I inquired, placing the linen napkin on my lap.
“My partner…”
The maid entered carrying a bottle of white wine and poured some into Arron's glass. She moved to Sam and asked, “Ma'am, care for some wine?”
“Yes, please…” Sam observed her pouring some wine into her glass, “Thank you.”
“You're welcome,” she responded and came up to me next. “Ma'am, care for some wine?”
“Yes, please and thank you.”
She poured some into my glass and said, “You're welcome.”
Sam spoke up first, “So, your partner knew-”
Arron finished taking a sip and replied, “Yes, my partner possesses many skills and one of them is a good judge of character.”
The maid returned with three garden salads upon a large silver tray and placed one in front of each of us.
“Your partner knows alot about us,” I added, taking a sip from my wine.
“Knowledge is power…so the saying goes.”
The maid entered again carrying with her three plates. She sat the first one in front of Arron then, Sam and finally me. She turned and exited out of the room.
I stared down at my plate, with my mouth watering at the sight. There sat a large lobster tail, a sirloin steak, asparagus and a crab cake. I began to cut my steak into bite size pieces, plopping one into my mouth.
“This looks so good,” Sam remarked, taking a small bite from the lobster and expressed. “This is heavenly.”
“Our chef Thomas is such an artist at times,” Arron enlightened and informed, “Oh, by the way…the steaks are medium. Thomas cringes at the thought of a rare or well done steak.”
“It melts in your mouth…” I added, taking another bite.
LATER IN THE DEN
“That was excellent meal, Arron…” Sam decreed, taking a sip from her wine. “I can't believe I ate everything.”
“Thank you,” Arron said, relaxing on the couch next to them.
“I'm going have to work that meal off later,” Sam sighed.
“We have a fully equipped gym downstairs and some exercise equipment as well,” she responded, “You're welcome to use them.”
I scanned the room in search of anything personal that may reveal the owner's identity. Unfortunately there weren't any to be seen. Must have them locked away in one of the many rooms.
There were expensive oil paintings hanging from the four walls, a large stone fireplace, a projection TV, matching loveseat and couch set and a glass coffee table. A large Persian rug laid upon the hardwood floor, which was buffed to perfection.
“I've noticed that there weren't any photographs of you or your partner,” I brought up, turning to our host.
Arron grinned at her guests, “No, that would defeat the purpose of keeping partner's identity a secret. Now wouldn't it?”
“How long have you two lived here?” Sam inquired, taking a sip.
“For three years now,” she replied, lifting her glass to her lips.
I finally noticed the shimmering Ruby that was set into a gold band, worn on her ring finger. “Nice ring. How long have you two been married?”
“Thank you,” she grinned, taking another sip from her wine. “For five years now.”
“May I?” Sam asked, leaning over.
“But of course…” Arron said, holding her hand out for her to take.
“It's gorgous!” Sam gasped, examining it closely.
To be continued....