Going Rogue Ch. 04

"Yes, and I know firsthand." Cindy replied, knowing what she herself had endured from such bullets. "So who fired at that motorcyclist?"

"I don't know." said Athena Jones. "And to be honest, none of us, my friends and I, can understand that one. We thought a police officer had fired the shot, but since you said that is not the case, it must've been someone else."

"The Commander thinks the shooter missed, and hit the bike instead of the rider... on purpose."

"He's a very smart man, my dear." said the Widow Jones. "A very smart man. Most of the time..." Cindy peered at the old woman, whose face gave away nothing. They turned back to the movie...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Ah, my lovely Sinon." he said as she entered the room. There was a stillness in the air, the room seemed stuffy to her. "Have a drink with me."

"Where's the wife?" she asked as she watched him pour two glasses of sherry.

"Visiting... relatives." he said, handing her one of the glasses. They clinked them and drank.

"This is very good." she said. "You always have the very best."

"Yes." he said. "It's a rare and expensive brand of sherry, but what's the point of having all my money if I don't spend it on the very best... such as gifts for you, my dear. You are in need of a new motorcycle, no?"

"That's right." she said bitterly. "My last one is a melted blob in the Police Department's Crime Lab now."

"Unfortunate." he said. "But fortunate that the motorcycle was struck by gunfire, and not you. Which is what the shooter intended, of course."

"Really?" she gasped.

"Of course." he said. "You were wanted alive. But you managed to elude your pursuers."

"That wasn't hard to do." she said. "They're idiots, especially that redheaded dog-loving bastard at the top."

He laughed, the chuckle sounding sinister in the stuffy quietness of the room. "Yes, Commander Troy is not as smart as he thinks he is. I was close... very close... to getting him, as were you. But we failed. All those whistles going off... now that, I don't understand... yet."

"With your great mind, it will come to you." she said. "And then someone is going to be in a great deal of pain."

"Yes." he said. "But when I said you avoided your pursuers, I did not mean the Police. Do be careful, my lovely Sinon. Do be careful..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

They were sitting in the office of the Sir Isaac Newton Professor of Advanced Mathematics at the University. Professor Marvin Milton poured three drinks, handing one to his son and the other to his daughter-in-law, Myron and Mary Mahoney Milton.

"I'm glad you came to dinner with us, sir." said Mary, dressed in leather but looking elegant and classy. Myron was channeling his mentor and hero, the Iron Crowbar, by wearing a jacket and pants and a mock turtleneck shirt. Professor Milton was dressed in his normal professorial clothes: button down shirt, brown plaid-like jacket, and a heavier overcoat for the outdoors.

"Ah yes, it was a good evening." said the Professor. "I appreciate you asking me."

"We should do it more often, Dad." said Myron.

"And we will, I'm sure." said Marvin. "So how is the police work going? I saw where the FBI took out that espionage ring at the construction site, but the FBI is too stupid to have figured it out themselves. I suspect your boss the Iron Crowbar has been using his brains again."

"Yes sir." said Mary, aware of her father-in-law's hatred of the Federal Government. "Not much in this County gets by him."

"Yes, of course." said the Professor. He steered the conversation into other, more innocuous channels. After a while, Myron and Mary excused themselves and left.

The Professor indeed had reason to be happy tonight, he thought to himself as he went into his personal work lab behind his office. The room was very similar to the room behind Laura Fredricson's office, that she had turned into a nursery for her children.

The professor's eyes lit up as he saw the device on the table. It was a very sophisticated, high-tech piece of signal intelligence equipment. The CIA was very wrongly using this and other equipment to keep tabs on American Citizens. The Professor was not fooled; that signal-intel-gathering operation had not just been to watch over TCPD operations, but to see what he, Professor Marvin Milton, and other University professors were doing!

As he began examining the device, he thought of the man who had brought it to him. The Iron Crowbar is indeed a very, very smart man, the Professor thought. Yes, his wife is loyal to him, she loves him as deeply as he loves her... but he and maybe even she has no earthly idea of how deeply some elements of the Central Intelligence Agency hate him.

They'd called the Corrigan Cell 'rogue', but he, Professor Marvin Milton, knew better. He knew there were other 'Corrigan Cells', just as dangerous, just as willing to subvert the Constitution and kill American Citizens. They were not 'rogue'; they were the norm!

And they knew how dangerous the Iron Crowbar really was to them... and how dangerous the FBI was. Special Agent Muscone is an honest and decent man, as is his boss, thought the Professor... but they may have no idea what they are up against.

But the Iron Crowbar does, the Professor though. He knows. And he brought me this little gift, purloined from that rogue cop Bryce, to help in the fight. And we're going to need all the help we can get... all the help we can get...

Finis.