No More Swedish Meatballs Pt. 03

"No. I'm afraid you're going to have to change your plans," Hurst said. "Maybe you should call home. Tell the missus you've got urgent business her at the office."

"Why would I want to do that?" Jim asked coldly. He calmly unlocked his desk drawer, reached in for his gun….

Hurst was a step ahead of him. In a flash he had his own weapon out and pointed at Jim's chest. "Take you hand out of the drawer, real slowly, and step away from your desk," he ordered.

Jim complied. "What's this all about, Dave? You gone nuts or something?" He smiled his most winning smile. "You don't need to pull a gun on me. If you want to talk about Karl, we'll talk about Karl. Give me an idea of how long we're going to be so I can tell my wife."

"Oh, it's gonna be a while." Hurst said. We're gonna take a little trip."

"Why would we want to do that?"

"Something my secretary, Kelly, said…."

"What do you mean?" Jim asked harshly.

"Secretaries are the soul of organization. They see things…, hear things. Sometimes they know more than they realize. Something she said made me realize how peculiar it was that Karl went missing. Just when the Company was planning to transfer him. We had another project for him. Damn. You sure had me fooled all these years. It's no wonder Karl's work somehow didn't add up. It was good, but not as good as it should have been. You've been altering it. Slowing it down. Maybe passing the originals over to your friends."

"What?" Jim laughed hollowly. "You think I'm working for the Cabal? You know how I feel about those….

"Don't play me for a fool," boy. I've been in this game longer than you can imagine. You're good. I have to give you credit. But you made a big mistake when you grabbed Karl. We need him and you're going to get him for us."

Jim laughed harshly, "I don't know what you think you know. But I don't have Karl. That I can guarantee you."

"You helped him disappear." Hurst had come to this conclusion after long and careful consideration of the facts available to him. "He didn't just walk off the job and into never never land. Not without help and a damn good reason.

"He had a reason alright. The Cabal was about to snatch him and Kristen. He found out and took off on his own.

"That's a load of crap. You did some double dealing. I don't know how you accomplished it but they're both gone. I want to know where."

"What makes you think I'd tell you if I knew, which I don't?" Jim said calmly. His mind was racing even as he spoke. Only his hands betrayed his nervousness. He'd picked up a ball point pen which he click, clicked every two seconds. He looked at the clock on his wall as he played with the pen and pondered his options."

"Oh you'll tell me what you know. First," Hurst said handing the telephone receiver to Jim, "you'd better talk to your wife. I'm sure she's anxious to hear from you."

"You bastard. What do you mean? You have a team down at my house? Fuck you!" Jim dialed his home number. Wanda picked up on the first ring.

"Wanda," Jim asked, "are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," Wanda said with a calmness she didn't feel. "But there's this guy here with a gun. He won't tell me what he wants. He just says it's a business matter that should be resolved quickly. What's going on? Are you in trouble at work?"

"You could say that."

Wanda could hear the stress in Jim's voice. For a horrible moment Wanda thought maybe Jim was into the mob for something but she quickly discarded that idea. The man in her house was too stiff and business like to be a mobster she decided. If it waddles and quacks like an agent it's probably an agent.

One of the many things Jim loved about Wanda was her level head. That and the fact they could almost read eachother's minds. Jim didn't know where Karl was but he had a pretty good idea where he himself would be if he were in Karl's shoes. Jim didn't want to divulge even that much information. As for Kristen – he knew who she was staying with. He didn't want that information in Hurst's hands. And if Hurst knows I'm a Guardian he's gonna wring me out to dry for information about the group. He had to warn Ryan somehow. He knew he couldn't hold out under questioning if Wanda or any of the kids were endangered. What a fucking pickle! God damn it, it's foul play to bring families into this mess. Hurst is a true bastard.

"Everything's okay, honey. The man's right. It's a simple matter. Don't worry. Hell, relax have a rock and rye and maybe call your mother. She wasn't feeling well the other night." There. I hope she got the message.

It took Wanda a second to catch on. She hated rye whisky. Rock and rye? Rye? Ryan! He wants me to call Ryan. Do I have his number? It must be around somewhere.

"I think I will have a drink," Wanda replied. "Rye's my favorite. Is the bottle in the library?"

Good girl! Jim though, relieved. "Yeah. You know, the usual place. I may be a little late getting home. I think there's a Mickey Rooney movie on tonight. Maybe you and your visitor would enjoy it. I'd better go. I love you."

Wanda was puzzled by the last remark. Their TV was on the blink. Jim knew it. He'd been tinkering around with it all day Sunday. Mickey Rooney? What does that have to do with anything?

Wanda decided to see how much freedom she had. She stretched her arms and then stood up from the easy chair next to the phone where she'd been sitting for over an hour since her "visitor" arrived. "If you don't mind, I have some housework to do," she told her guard. "Why don't you just make yourself comfortable while I go about my business? she asked.

"I'd have to follow you around," the man said, "and I'm not in the mood. Why don't you just sit still and be quiet."

That pissed Wanda off. "I have to call my mother. She's in a nursing home. She's not well and she's expecting me to call. The number's in the library. You can follow me if you like." Wanda addressed the man like a queen talking to a serf just to aggravate him. Then she stood and walked regally to the library.

It took her a little while to find Ryan's number. Long enough that the guard was starting to get suspicious.

"Seems like you'd keep better track of your mother's phone number," the guard said as he watched her sift through the messy office desk.

Wanda ignored him. Finally she found Ryan's number in one of Jim's notebooks. She walked back to the living room, followed by her guard, picked up the phone and dialed Ryan's number, praying he'd be there. She was happy to hear his relaxed, whiskey voice answer on the seventh ring. Lucky seven Wanda thought.

"Hi mom, it's Wanda," she said, knowing Ryan would be thoroughly baffled by the call. "How are you feeling today?"

"Wanda?" Ryan asked trying to connect the name to a person. Wanda. Oh, Wanda, Jim's wife. Something's up. Oh, hi, Wanda, what's up? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Yes," Wanda said tightly. "I'm sorry you're not feeling so well." Wanda looked covertly over at her guard who was paying careful attention to the conversation. "Maybe you'd feel better if you changed rooms. I know you like sunlight and the room you're in now is kind of dark." She was trying hard not to sound like a babbling idiot. Her heart was in her throat. She silently prayed Ryan would understand what she was trying to relay.

Ryan got the message. Kristen had to be moved. He assumed it meant Jim's cover was blown. "Yeah, a room change sounds like a good idea. Is Jim okay?"

"I don't know, Ma. We can't come today. We have Company."

"Will your company be staying long?" he asked. He was talking carefully, unsure if there was an extension on the telephone which might be monitored.

"No. My company has some business with Jim."

The guard was staring at Wanda. "Gotta go, Ma. I love you," she said hurriedly, and slammed down the phone. She knew the guard was ready to take the receiver from her.

"That was stupid," the guard growled. "Who'd you call?"

"My mother," Wanda insisted.

The guard shook his head in disgust. "Don't worry. They'll find out."

Tough shit, I got my message out. It doesn't matter now Wanda though with malicious glee. Bastards. Coming in here trying to intimidate me.

Wanda shrugged. I'm going to pour myself a drink. I'd offer you one but…. No, I wouldn't offer you one." She made herself a stiff whiskey sour from the bar they kept loaded for company and special occasions. As she poured she wondered what ever became of Evelyn. It was a poignant moment. She remembered all the New Years Eve parties they'd had over the years. They were never the same after Evelyn left. As the kids grew up and developed their own interests the parties became smaller and smaller. The Phillips hadn't bothered the last couple of years. They'd decided to leave the revelry to Guy Lombardo and New Yuck City.

Chapter

Jim was pissed off. But there wasn't anything he could do about his situation. They had Wanda. Fortunately none of the kids were around. The older two were in away at school. His youngest was on the soft ball team and wouldn't be home until 6:00.

"So what happens now?" Jim asked Hurst.

"You come with me. Don't try to be a hero. Cooperate and nothing will happen to Wanda."

They left Jim's office and strode casually through the warren like office building where dozens of men spent their daylight hours sitting in little offices at desks with drawing boards or graph paper or just plain writing paper working on the puzzling new technology electronics, modern physics and math had brought to the world. It was like peeling an onion. Layer after layer of knowledge was emerging – all of it mysterious and much of it interconnecting. How to connect it all was the problem. So much information and so few minds that really understood it.

No one understood the ramifications opening the Pandora 's Box of technology would ultimately have on the planet. Computers were still practically science fiction. People scoffed at the idea that soon every home and office would have one.

These were America's glory days. Global war seemed to be a thing of the past, although the soviets kept pushing their borders. Israel and Egypt were at eachother's throats and the war in Southeast Asia had torn the US apart. Most Americans focused on the cold war, were scared to death of communism and believed fervently in the domino theory. But life was grand on the home front. Americans became consumers of anything that came off the conveyor belt. There were new fangled gadgets for everything. Everything invented was to make life simpler, better, richer, more enjoyable.

Americans loved their new gadgets and didn't care what made them work as long as they did what they were supposed to do. It was the beginning of the disposable society. Kleenex replaced handkerchiefs. Paper napkins replaced linen. McDonalds was already a deeply entrenched institution.

For the first time in history music became a global phenomenon. When the Beatles landed on American soil eight years earlier parents watched in fascinated horror as their teenagers become slightly insane over rock and roll. The entire country went from gramophones and black and white to stereo and Technicolor in the space of a couple of years. Politics came out of the cloak room. Entertainment became a national pastime and the whole country had the air of a carnival. It was all a result of the modern technology which was being uncovered and discovered by scientists like Karl and dumped willy-nilly into the hands of an infant nation of immigrants from every corner of the world.

And who could predict the impact of all of this on the world?

Behind the curtains crucial power struggles were enfolding. The Company and the Cabal were in a heated race for new technologies critical for world domination. Weaponry heretofore unimaginable was being developed. Medical research was breaking new ground daily. New information systems were cropping up everywhere. It was impossible to keep up.

That's why people like Karl were so important.

And Jim was damned if he was going to let either faction get their hands on him. He knew they would wring him out for information. Fortunately he had little to supply as to Karl's' whereabouts. The worst of it was his knowledge of the Guardian's infrastructure.

Chapter

Ryan had gotten Wanda's message. Jim's cover was blown. Damn it. I was hoping Kristen could stay with Leslie until school started. Now I'm going to have to move her. She may not want to go anywhere with me as mad as she is. Hell.

Kristen and Ryan hadn't parted on good terms. Both were stubborn and convinced they were in the right. Ryan did want Kristen to go to Antioch and live a normal teenage life before making any decisions about how she felt about him. And Kristen had taken the opposite position just to be contrary. She knew deep down that Ryan was right about school. She'd always planned to go to college. But she didn't want it rammed down her throat. She wanted to choose where and when she went to college. So she'd dug in her heels before Ryan left Leslie's home earlier in the week and acted like a spoiled brat about her admission to Antioch.

"It's a great school," Ryan had urged. It's got a good reputation but it's not stuffy like the Ivy League colleges. Is that the kind of school you want to attend?"

"No," Kristen had responded. "I want to go to California – Berkeley. I don't want to be stuck in the boon docks of some small town in the middle of nowhere."

"Antioch's not like that. It's small but it's very liberal.

"What does that mean?"

Ryan sat down and tried to describe the school for Kristen but her ears were closed. She was hurting from Ryan's unwillingness to come to terms with their relationship. Damn it, we should be able to talk about it. He could at least have the courtesy of telling me it didn't mean anything to him. She wanted to scream at him and break something. Instead she gave him a very cold shoulder.

Leslie had fixed a fancy dinner with wine for all of them hoping to lighten the atmosphere so the two could talk. It saddened her to see two people who were obviously infatuated with each other behaving so stupidly. She knew she'd just make matters worse if she tried to intervene. She could read both their faces like a book. So she kept up a chipper patter of meaningless conversation during the meal and kept filling the wine glasses. The meal dragged on and on.

Finally, at about eight o'clock that evening Leslie announced she was getting a headache and needed to go to bed. She kissed Kristen on the cheek and whispered "talk to him," in her ear. She tousled Ryan's hair as she brushed past him on her way upstairs.

The silence after Leslie left was deafening. Their barriers were down as a result of the wine. Kristen wished Ryan would sweep her up in his arms as he'd done the night before. Ryan was entranced by the early evening light which was flooding the room and turning Kristen into a luscious siren with sunset hair and emerald eyes. He wanted her so badly it hurt.

Kristen sensed his need. But she was still stinging from the way he'd treated her that day. Now that it's night and he's got some wine in him he's ready to forget all about his damn morals. Well that's just too damn bad.

Kristen sighed. She stretched and faked a yawn. "I'm tired. Must be the wine. I think I'll call it a night. Are you leaving tonight?' she asked, praying silently that he'd say no.

"Yeah," he said grumpily. "I'd better get back to business. Oh, but Kristen, there's one last thing….'

"Yes?" Kristen asked, her heart in her throat.

"Please tell me if you know where your father might be. Or his research. We really need to find him."

"No," Kristen said coldly, holding back a threatening flood of tears. "Dad doesn't talk to me about his work. I can't help you." She stiffened her back and walked out of the room.

Ryan ran his hand over his face and through his hair. Jesus, I've really screwed things up with her. How am I going to fix this? Maybe if I leave her alone for a few days she'll cool off.

So Ryan took off on his bike and tried to put Kristen out of his mind for the time being.

Chapter

Wanda's phone call brought it all back to him.

Ah Christ. I'm going to have to patch things up with her. Then he realized he was looking forward to seeing her sunny face. But what about Jim and Wanda? He had some hard thinking to do. He'd have to bring in some help if he was to extricate them from the claws of the Company. And where are they, anyway?

Ryan started pacing the floor of the small, ramshackle apartment which was his current home. He hadn't had time to put down roots since he'd become a guardian three years ago. Well, truth be told, he'd never really had roots. Except for those years with Leslie.

Ryan owned very few things since he moved around so much. But what he had he treasured. The apartment was run down but spotless. Ryan was almost compulsive about his living quarters. He dealt with so much ugliness in his chosen profession. His home was his sanctuary. Where ever he was sent he made a place and surrounded himself with the things he loved.

He was an avid antique collector. He had a few, very old, well selected pieces in his apartment. He preferred the lighter woods for his furnishings – ash, pine, maple, oak. He mixed and matched items he found at flea markets and garage sales. He had an old pine trundle bed with down filled coverings from Bavaria. He had a beautiful Blauplunkt stereo hi fi with a short wave radio and a dry bar in his living room. His eclectic selection of record albums were housed in a custom-made trunk that doubled as a bench for added seating. Not that he entertained very often. Somehow he kept acquiring books. It was hard to move fast when you had a valuable book collection, but Ryan couldn't resist exploring the dusty old book shops he found wherever he traveled. And invariably he'd find some little gem of a book at an absurdly low price so, heck, what's one more book? He had an impressive book collection so of course he had to have the best bookshelves.

He didn't have a television. He couldn't understand the nation's fascination with the little round tube that spouted so much idiocy. The rest of the new technology was great but he often wished the idiot box had never been invented.

He turned the Hi Fi on for company while he paced and pondered the Phillips question. Are Jim and Wanda together? If so, where are they? He thought about that. No. Jim would be at work. Wanda must be at home under lock and key to encourage Jim to cooperate. Jesus. Ryan knew Jim wouldn't be able to hold out under questioning if Wanda and the kids were in danger. Hell. How much does Jim know? Well, he knows about Leslie. Does he know where she lives? Ryan wasn't sure. Would he be able to help the Cabal find Karl? Probably. But the worst thing was that Jim had knowledge of the Guardians' infrastructure. Damn it, this is a mess. We should have pulled Jim out of the Company the minute Karl went missing. Ryan kicked himself for his shortsightedness. It had endangered everyone. Well, it was time to do some damage control. Hopefully they could retrieve Jim before too much damage was done. He made several hurried phone calls. The last one was to Leslie. He updated her and warned her he'd be moving Kristen as soon as her new ID came through.

"Oh, Hell, Ryan," Leslie said. "She and I were just starting to…. Is it really necessary? Couldn't you just put some surveillance on us to keep us safe? Kristen's just getting used to the idea of school in the fall. She won't take well to the idea she has to stay in another strange place until them. And, she's starting to get over her anger at you. This will bring it all to a head again. It might make the breach irreparable." Leslie paused a moment. "If you're set on moving her you're going to have to come here and tell her face to face. I won't be the go between and I won't let you tell her over the phone and then drop the ball like you did last week," Leslie finished angrily. She thought Ryan had handled things badly between him and Kristen. Patting her on the head and treating her like a kid was the worst thing he could have done. She knew they both had strong feelings for each other. Ryan had thoughtlessly put an unnecessary age barrier between them.