No More Swedish Meatballs Pt. 03

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The package changed his life forever. Karl's blood ran cold as he read the material contained in the package. The two organizations were much more powerful than anything he'd imagined. They were developing technology which, if misused, could destroy humanity. They'd been around for ages and believed they would achieve their destiny - a New World Order around the middle of the next century. There was no room in the new world for the people of the developing nations. They would bankrupt Russia with the bogus cold war weapons race, rape the Middle East, and plunder Africa and South America in order to achieve a "natural balance" between the environment and the economy. The Company and the Cabal were one and the same. Its inner circle was made up of wealthy, privileged and educated men with a very skewed belief system.

Karl learned that Guardians like Ryan had been fighting the Cabal for centuries. Jim had become a guardian when he accidentally discovered the Company was the Cabal's tentacle in the government. For years he'd been making slight alterations in Karl's work for the Company in order to slow them down and passing the accurate data to the Guardians. There were other groups of resistance. The Guardians were trying to unite the resistance groups but it was a difficult task. And now the world was entering the information age. It was happening much faster than the Guardians had expected. Scientists like Karl were unlocking secrets so fast the Guardians feared that the earth's natural balance would be destroyed. They decided to reveal themselves to a select few in order to pull them out of the two groups' hands. They hoped to gather enough talent to alter the disastrous course plotted out by the Cabal and the Company.

Unfortunately the Guardian's plan had been unearthed recently. The Guardians had to move fast. They needed Karl but they knew the Company would not let him go easily. Thus, the Guardians had a plan to stage Karl's death and take him to a safe location where he and other scientists could work safely.

Karl wasn't sure he liked that last part. What guarantee do I have that the Guardians aren't as bad as the Company and the Cabal. Seems to me like everyone has delusions of grandeur. What the hell am I supposed to do with this information? Karl suddenly realized what a risk Ryan had taken getting this material to him. They must really be desperate to come out in the open. I hope Kristen's safe, he thought worriedly. Then he realized Ryan had taken Kristen to dinner so she wouldn't be home to witness Karl's staged death. The thought angered him. He felt manipulated and badly used.

Karl wasn't sure if he trusted the Guardians. But he did trust Jim. And the plan was for Ryan to take Kristen to Jim. After all the years and all the Christmases, Karl knew in his heart Jim would never hurt Kristen. Christ, she was like a daughter to him. So at least I know Kristen's safe. But I'll be damned if I'm going to let them play puppet master with my life. I'm not going to let them come here and take me away.

Karl thought long and hard before deciding on a plan. I need more information – some independent verification of this. To do this, Karl realized he'd have to disappear for a while. What about my research? He didn't dare leave it in the Company's hands. I'll go get it from the office. Then I'll hide all of it away so neither side can get it. It won't be easy to disappear. But that's what I'm going to have to do he thought sadly.

Karl continued his musing as he walked back to the house. When he got there he hid his papers. Then he headed down to the Company. The plant was open 24 hours a day to its scientists. Karl had no problem getting a hold of his research. He checked his watch on his way out of the building. I've got to hurry. He made a reckless dash back up to Paoli. He was relieved to find the house empty when he got home. He quickly added the rest of the research to the fire proof safe in his secret office. Kristen's the only one who knows about the room and she won't tell anyone. He finally felt secure after he closed the door to his office for the last time.

After leaving his office he went through the camping gear he had stashed in the basement. He took everything except the large family tent. He took Ned's old Boy Scout pup tent instead. Upstairs he packed one suit and as much sportswear as he could fit into his suitcase. After he finished packing he hauled the suitcase downstairs and went to the kitchen to pack a box of food. He was as meticulous in his endeavor as he had ever been in planning a family camping trip.

It was getting late. He packed up the car and said a silent farewell to the home he'd grown to love so dearly. He decided to head east. He'd drive as far as he could before getting sleepy. Then he'd find a campground. He thought he should keep moving – at least for the first few days.

Chapter

After Ryan left Karl in the woods he walked back through the woods enjoying a brief respite from his work. Dappled sunlight shone through the leaves as he walked westward out of the forest. He tried to relax and enjoy the peaceful sound of evening falling. He wasn't happy about the job he'd been assigned. But this was a crucial time and Karl's work was important. I'll take the kid out for a nice dinner, anyway. He hated the thought of what would happen while they enjoyed their meal. He was sure Karl was on board. Staging a man's death was rotten, especially when kids were involved.

Kristen was on the front porch when he got back to the house. "Where's my father?" she asked anxiously.

"He's at the Boy Scout cabin. He has some work to do there."

"What do you mean? He can work at home. Why didn't he come back with you? What did you do to him?" she asked suspiciously.

"Honest, he's fine. He stayed behind because I gave him some papers to go through away from prying eyes."

"There are no prying eyes here."

"So you say. Here, I have a note from him. I'm supposed to take you out to dinner. Here." He handed Kristen the note.

Kristen read the note. It was legitimate. "Does he know you came here on a motor cycle?" she asked skeptically. "He'd kill me if he knew I was riding on one."

"He knows. Trust me."

"Why should I trust you?" she asked.

"Your father trusts me."

Kristen gave Ryan a penetrating gaze. She liked what she saw and decided to trust him. "Wait a minute. I've got to get my purse." She ran inside and flew up the stairs. She decided to wear a dress, so she changed quickly and ran a brush through her hair. Then she grabbed her purse and was ready to ride. "Okay. Lets go," she said, trying to act nonchalant.

Ryan looked at her approvingly as he walked over to his motor cycle. "Come on," he said as he straddled the bike.

Kristen jumped off the porch and sauntered over to the bike, acting with more aplomb than she felt. Ryan handed her his helmet. "Put that on," he said.

"What about you. Don't you have to wear one?"

"My head's harder than granite. I don't need one."

"Oh." She put the helmet on feeling foolish and excited. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"I don't know. What kind of food do you like?"

Kristen thought for a moment. She wanted to have the longest ride possible. She wasn't really dressed for a fancy restaurant, but who cared? "There's a nice place in Exton. The Ship Inn."

"How far is it?"

"About ten miles."

Ryan laughed. "What if you don't like the ride?"

"I'll manage," Kristen replied, her heart in her throat. She climbed on the motor bike like she was born to it. She couldn't believe her luck as she wrapped her arms around Ryan's broad chest. I died and this is heaven, she thought with glee. She jumped when Ryan kick started the engine once, twice, three times and it growled to life.

Ryan felt her breasts crushed against his back. The closeness was startling. A shaft of desire shot through him as he eased the bike backwards, around and then out of the driveway. Christ, he thought. What's wrong with me? She's just a kid. His heart beat picked up as she tightened her grip around his waist.

"Which way to the restaurant?" he asked when they got to the stop sign at the top of the street.

"Go over the railroad bridge and turn right at route 30. It's a straight shot west on 30.

The sun was poised on the horizon like a great, red eyeball as the bike picked up speed on route 30. The wind, still warm from the sunny late spring day wind whipped at Kristen's hair which flowed loose under her helmet. She felt Ryan's strong muscles under his shirt. It was wonderful.

She rode stiffly for a few moments wondering if she should lean into the curves or against them. But she caught on quickly as they picked up speed. The bike smoothed out the rolling hills as the tires ate up the miles between Paoli and Exton.

The ride seemed to last forever. This is what it's like to fly, Kristen thought happily as they breezed into the restaurant's parking lot. I wish this night would never end. She was completely besotted with Ryan. Her legs were like rubber when she slid off the motor cycle. Ryan steadied her with one hand as he set the bike to rest. "Enjoy the ride?" he asked.

"Fantastic. Why don't we just keep going?" she asked. "I hear California's nice this time of year."

Ryan laughed. She was a natural. I'll make this dinner special for her he decided. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid you'd get saddle sore and tired of me before we even hit Ohio."

"Oh, I don't know about that. Try me."

"Some other time," he promised. "I'm starving. This looks like a pretty nice place. Do you suppose they'll let us road warriors eat here. Maybe we should go to the diner on the other side of the street." He pointed to a crumby looking White Castle advertising ten hamburgers for a dollar.

"Of course they'll let us in. Give me a minute to repair my hair," Kristen ordered. She pulled a brush out of her purse and pulled and tugged at her tangled mop. Ryan watched her, bewitched by the beauty of her hair in the fading spring sunshine. Kristen had a glow about her. She's a real beauty, he thought. Too bad she's going to hate me at the end of tonight. He knew she'd always associate this evening with loss. I wish I could tell her what's going on. God damn it I hate this job sometimes. I wish I could just be a horny teenager.

Kristen caught Ryan's intense stare. "What? Have I grown a horn on my forehead?" she asked laughing in the twilight.

"No." Ryan said, shaking his head. "You look lovely."

Kristen blushed at the complement. "Thank you, kind sir. I hope I'm lovely enough that they let us into this restaurant. I have a hankering for some really good fish."

Ryan took her arm and ushered her to the front door of the restaurant. The maitre 'd looked at them askance for a moment. "Do you have a reservation?" he asked with a snobbish turn of his nose.

Ryan looked at him hard. Then glanced at the almost empty dining room. He pulled out a five dollar bill. "Yes," he said archly. "I have a reservation. That table over there by the window has my name on it, doesn't it darling?" he said to Kristen, who blushed bright red.

"Yes, I think you're right," Kristen replied. "But I'm not sure we want to eat here. The dining room's almost empty. Maybe the food isn't as good as your editor said it is."

Ryan shook his head. "You're right. This must not be the right place. I'll have to find another restaurant to critique."

The maitre 'd bent over backwards after that to convince them to stay. He didn't want to be responsible for loosing the chance at a restaurant review. He didn't know what newspaper or magazine they were from but free publicity was free publicity.

Ryan and Kristen were given the best table in the house. The waiter fawned over them. They were hard put not to break into gales of laughter at his antics.

Kristen had never been to a really fancy restaurant before. She tried her best to look sophisticated. Ryan thought she was adorable. Ryan was torn when the wine steward came over. He didn't want to get his charge drunk. Kristen however surprised him by selecting an excellent vintage. It was pure luck but Ryan didn't know that.

The wine was served as they considered the menu. Ryan did the honors, sampling the wine and nodding his approval. Kristen took a small sip and smiled broadly. She'd selected an uncomplicated but savory white. "It tastes like a summer breeze" she said happily.

Ryan smiled. "Go slow with that," he cautioned as he watched Kristen take a second, much larger sip.

"This' so much fun. What should we order?" she asked excitedly.

The waiter came over with a basket of bread and explained the specials. Roast duckling didn't appeal to Kristen. She wanted something light but memorable.

"Pan fried, fresh brook trout. Oh. That sounds great."

Ryan was glad he had a full wallet. "I'll have the filet mignon," he said.

"Oh." The waiter said. "Then you'll have to have the burgundy. On the house, of course."

"Of course," Ryan said, wondering how to get out of it. "But maybe we should just stick with the white."

The waiter was aghast at the idea. "You can't possibly savor your meal without a proper wine for the palate." Spoken like a true food snob.

"Of course, you're right." He laughed as he drained his glass of white wine. He looked at Kristen. She'd finished her first glass and was reaching for the bottle.

"Slow down, little one," he said in an unwittingly seductive voice. "The night is young." And so are you he added. Too damn young. "Have some bread," he suggested in a low tone.

Kristen's pulse raced. Just the way he called her 'little one' set her blood to boil. She felt like a woman, and lifted her glass offering up a silent toast. She didn't know how provocative she looked – her hair all a-tumble and her young face flushed with wine and pleasure.

Ryan buttered a heel of pumpernickel bread and offered it to Kristen expecting her to take it with her hand. Instead she grabbed it between her pearly white teeth, almost taking a bite out of his hand. "Oh, that's good," she sighed. Ecstasy she thought. Could a night get any better than this?

Ryan laughed pensively. What an enchanting creature she is. The burgundy wine arrived with their salads. Kristen was well into her second glass of wine. "Don't get soused on me, Kristen," he said warningly. I don't want you falling off the back of my bike."

"I wouldn't."

Ryan wasn't sure if she meant she wouldn't get drunk or she wouldn't fall off the bike. "You might," he said sagely. And what would I tell your father if I bring you home drunk?"

"So don't bring me home," Kristen suggested, talking with her mouth full of bread. "Drive me to California. That's where I'm going to college. I should check it out, don't you think? This is the perfect opportunity for me to check out Berkeley."

"Huh uh. No way. I've got to get you home safe and sound."

The waiter brought their salads. Ryan poured himself a full glass of wine. He wished he could get drunk. Then he'd take Kristen up on her suggestion that they drive to California. He'd forget all about the Company and the Cabal and Karl and everything else that was so screwed up. God Lord, this little girl has really gotten under my skin!

They savored their salads. Ryan thought it was too bad he wasn't a food critic. He'd give the place four stars so far. Except for the snotty service. The waiter has his nose so far up in the air he'll drown in a rain storm Ryan thought.

They were about halfway through the bottle of white wine when the main courses arrived. The trout was fried to perfection and its accompaniments were exquisite. Kristen forgot about the wine and dove into the food. She hadn't eaten since breakfast. "Ah, this is wonderful. We'll have to give them an excellent write up," she said as she paused to make room for more food.

Ryan agreed. His steak was tender enough to cut with a butter knife. "First class," he said to the hovering waiter. "Our complements to the chef." He poured a glass of burgundy. To hell with it, he thought. I'm going to make the best of this evening. God, I wish she was just two years older. What a couple we'd make. He was suffering – his cock was at full mast. He tried every trick he knew of to cool himself off. He thought about glaciers, snow storms. Nothing worked. He was smitten and besotted with desire for Kristen.

Kristen could feel his heat. She was unprepared for the intensity of her passion for this golden man. How can I convince him I'm not a child? He feels it. I know he does. He's sweating and it's not at all hot in here. Kristen poured herself another glass of wine. I'm going to get myself drunk and seduce him. He's halfway there already. Kristen squirmed in her seat. She was so hot.

The waiter beamed at the couple. Young love. What a handsome pair. She's a little young for him though. I should have carded her. Oh well. They'll give us a great review and business will pick up.

They ate in silence, both lost in thought and desire.

Ryan started to feel guilty towards the end of the meal. I wonder if Karl has made up his mind. Maybe I should warn Kristen about what's about to happen. No. Ultimately she's got to think Karl's dead. She'll be too vulnerable if she knows he's alive. I have to stick with the plan. He felt like a monster.

Kristen noticed the change in the atmosphere. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing, I'm sorry. Sometimes work intrudes."

"Work, huh. What is it you do? Do you work for the Company? Or are you a spy. Like…." She stopped in mid sentence. She'd almost blurted out the fact her mother was a spy. That's it. I've had too much wine.

"Excuse me," she said in a rush. "I've got to go to the restroom." All of a sudden she felt sick to her stomach. Too much wine. Oh God I feel sick. She almost tipped over her chair in her hurry to get to the ladies room. She barely made it to the stall. Everything came up. All the food and all the wine. She felt miserable and horribly embarrassed. At least I didn't loose it in front of Ryan. God, what an idiot I am. But after a few minutes she felt much better. She dowsed her face with cold water, smoothed her hair and rinsed her mouth thoroughly from the spigot. She was grateful there'd been no one in the bathroom to witness her misery. She smiled bravely at her reflection on her way out the door.

Ryan looked at her questioningly when she returned to the table. "Are you alright?"

"Just fine," she said bravely.

"Would you like some more wine" he asked, having guessed what transpired in the ladies room.

"Uh, no. I don't think so. Maybe some tea, if they have any."

"How about desert?"

"No. Thanks. I'm pretty full. You go ahead if you want. Just tea. Please."

Ryan laughed. "Are you sure you're alright? You were pretty green for a minute there."

"Oh God," Kristen said, mortified that he knew she'd lost her dinner. "I'm so embarrassed. That's never happened to me before."

"I should hope not. You don't drink two thirds of a bottle of wine every day do you?"

"No. I never. Well, once," she admitted. "With Rita. In a snow storm. But this is the first time I ever really got drunk."

"Who's Rita?" Ryan asked, wanting to know more about Kristen. He was thirsty for information.

"My best friend. Well, she used to be my best friend. Before she became too 'adult' for me. Ned was crazy over her too, for a while. Until he went off to college. I guess he got a girl friend right away. That's when Rita stopped talking to me entirely. Some friend, huh?"