Guardian Program Ch. 34

Note: Tags are for the book and not individual chapters.

Guardian Program Ch. 34

A novel by R.C.PeterGabriel, all rights reserved.

Seemingly everyone in the room was surprised when a moment later, the two blips representing Toni's and Jessie's phones, sped across the distance between our sun room, and the Clemons' back patio, at which time the display reverted to real-time. Rutschman's blip quickly moved to the wall just inside the kitchen door the moment the back door opened. We saw Toni's blip move into the kitchen, seemingly two steps ahead of Jessie's, where both stopped a moment later. After that Rutschman's blip started moving around the other two sometimes occupying the same space.

"He must have used Tasers on them," Shepherd noted. "Otherwise, there'd have been more movement out of them, especially Jessie. She would have put up one hell of a fight."

Scott chimed in. "I agree. I've seen both of them fight. Jessie would have won a straight fight, without question."

"Wasn't the driver part of your security detail?" asked Richards. "Wouldn't he have been trained in multiple forms of combat, including hand-to-hand?"

"Do you know who 'Black Widow' is?" Shepherd asked, with a slight smile, then continued after Richards nodded yes. "Jessie is that good. She fights Wushu, Krav Maga, and Eskrima, combining them instinctively. Rutschman is no match."

I felt a smile inch its way across my face, but I didn't turn around. The respect that these two men had for Jessie, had my heart swelling with pride. I also felt ice forming around its increased size with the thoughts of how I was going to deal with Rutschman.

After about ten minutes of watching Rutschman's blip move over and around the other two, Jessie's and Toni's phones come together and moved to the table. About five minutes later Rutschman's blip moved slowly to the garage, where it maneuvered around at one side of the space, probably inside a vehicle. He returned to the kitchen and repeated the process.

"He's moving them already," Sam, pointed out.

Everyone seemed to sense that she was right and took a collective half-step closer. Although most of them, realizing the futility of being closer to a recorded image retreated back the way they had come. Either that or they all suffered from having a large personal bubble.

While Rutschman was occupied a second time in the garage, Toni's and Jessie's phones also moved to the garage. About a minute later all three blips merged and left by the side door. They moved at a casual walking pace and entered my sunroom's side door. As the blips moved to the kitchen we all saw one of Bill's plumbing trucks leave the protected area and head toward the highway.

"Pause," I ordered. "Hal, who is in the truck just leaving the Clemons' protected area?"

"Unknown."

Slightly frustrated with the response, I asked. "What can you tell me about the occupants?"

"Signal strength that far from your property was inadequate to penetrate the vehicle wall enough to get DNA. No positive identification can be made," stated Hal. "However, from body shape and mass, I estimate a likelihood of 98.9% that the driver was male, with one female passenger. There is a 96.4% likelihood the driver was William Clemons and a 92.7% chance the passenger was Debra Clemons."

"So, the Clemons aren't dead like we thought," noted Richards. The whole torture room setup was faked. They must have shot through a blood bag, and been faking the cast off for some time now."

I was slightly relieved, but I didn't care at the moment, and asked, "Hal, were Toni or Jessie in the truck or not?"

"Unknown, Toni Smith and Jessie Smith, have redacted status and are continuously deleted from my memory except for files related to you, and my primary protective protocols."

The second Hal had said 'unknown', I knew I had screwed myself sideways and started cussing in every language I knew. I began pacing while the others in the room scrambled to stay out of my way. I'd been under the false assumption that if no one could find a trace of them, that would mean they'd be safe. I had in fact made things one hundred times worse!

"Hal," Sam began. "Remove redacted status from Jessie and Toni Smith."

"Unauthorized request," he responded.

"Hal," I barked. "Remove the redacted status! Located Toni and Jessie!"

"Status revoked," Hal stated. "Subject locations unknown."

I had assumed the later portion of the response because he'd already deleted the information and Rutschman would have moved them to a location known to be low or absent of sensors. "Mark file Rutschman one, and play."

The truck continued off the screen while the three blips moved around my kitchen for several minutes. Then Rutschman's blip retraced its way back to the Clemons', while Toni's and Jessie's blips stayed on the stove. A few moments later the same car that he had arrived in carried Rutschman's blip off the screen.

"Re-center file to track the Clemons' plumbing truck, which just left the Clemons' property. Fast forward."

The view centered on the truck as it zipped along, left Poison and headed north toward Kalispell. The car made it to the highway, about five miles farther, then flickered once and the screen went blank. "File completed," stated Hal.

"What happened?" asked Special Agent Heidner.

This is a recording. Hal can't replay something if there weren't enough sensors available to record the event requested."

"I thought this was a satellite feed from your security office."

I sighed. "Special Agent, that is 'need to know', but just so you have a concept, the images you've just seen were collected by sensors and beamed to my computer by satellite, where Hal is used to coordinate and or extrapolate the data. If a sensor didn't pick up the information I need, he can't just make it up."

Scott had been talking to Sam as I explained. "Why don't you just ask Hal where Rutschman is now, instead of trying to track him?"

Sam smiled, "Hal, locate David Rutschman."

"Subject location unavailable," stated Hal.

"Locate his phone," Sam requested, and an image of the Montana Rail Link Station appeared on the screen with a tiny blip indicating the phone's location in the parking lot.

Scott pulled out his phone and started dialing. "Robert, he's in Helena. Or at least his phone is." He paused a moment while the phone connected. "Edwards, it's Gregory Scott. I need you to get over to the Montana Rail Link Station and check out a black Lincoln MKC, license Charlie-Tango-six-six-five ... Yes, Edwards, it is a nice car. It's the one Mr. Smith is chauffeured around in. Now focus. Give it a full scan, and search for anything that could be a clue to the Smith case, no matter how small. Talk to the employees, canvas the area, and make sure you ask about a 'Clemons Plumbing' truck as well."

"This Edwards of yours will need help to canvas the area," began Special Agent Heidner. "I'll send some agents to coordinate with him. We have a residence office in Helena and they can be on-site in a matter of minutes." She was waiting for someone to answer by the time she finished her sentence. I nodded my thanks to her as my guests from Homeland Security followed suit.

Special Agent Richards pointed to the image and asked us to zoom in on the parking lot. Sam complied, and we could see that the blip was coming from the back seat of a Mazda Miata convertible. He called the Helena Police, and explained the situation and the need for backup, then requested an APB, and gave them the description of the vehicles we were after, along with their tag numbers. While he was doing that, I had Hal bring up the information for David Rutschman and the Clemons, all on separate screens from the image of the train station.

Richards continued without pause as he saw the information come up, and added their descriptions to that of the cars. When he hung up he called the TSA and had all three added to the No-Fly-List.

"Why did you do that, the phone was at the train station?" I asked.

"The phone may be at the train station, but neither vehicle is. That means that either one of the three took a train while the others took the vehicles, or none of them took the train. Either way, the airport is only about a mile away. I think we should have airport security on the lookout for any combination of vehicles and suspects. They most likely will have your wife and daughter in some sort of cargo container. Assuming they plan on getting them out by plane. The bad part of all this is that they could have had another accomplice transport the phone to Helena while they went toward Utah or Canada. They could have easily disguised the plumbing truck or the Lincoln for that matter. Both could move anywhere in the country without drawing much attention. Or, they could have already switched vehicles, meaning we're not even looking ..."

He glanced over my shoulder and stopped mid-sentence. About a half second later, Shepherd was reaching around me, grabbed Richards by the shoulder, and started leading him out.

"Wait, Don! He's got a point. Although we can find out, the Lincoln is equipped with a Black Knight! Hal, locate the bridge Security vehicle, with Montana plates Charley-Tango-six-six-five."

The image on the main screen slid about four thousand feet almost directly east and slightly north. The car was parked behind a cargo hanger on Airport Road.

The redial functions of multiple phones were utilized almost simultaneously.

"Hal, show the driver of that car starting from thirty seconds before parking."

The view shifted to a playback, with the camera facing through the windshield. Rutschman drove up to the hanger, put the car in park, and rolled down the window. The camera shifted slightly to allow a view of both Rutschman and the approaching figure.

"I dumped my company phone, just north of Missoula." Rutschman lied, with a smile. "They won't be able to track us. Is the plane ready?"

"Pause," Sam ordered and started to say something.

"Rutschman lied about his phone," interrupted Heidner. "Why would he do that?"

"He knew we could trace his car, just as easily as the phone," said Scott. "He dumped them in different locations to slow us down again."

"No," I started to disagree. "Well ... Yes, but he's playing both sides. He could have dumped the Lincoln at the mall here in town, along with the phone, and stolen another car. He knows it's just a matter of time before I go global with the Guardian Program, and he knows he can't possibly get away with this. I think he figured it out after they took Toni and Jessie and he's conflicted. He's still hoping to be able to hide with a big chunk of cash in some country without extradition but if he goes along with them and makes sure the girls are okay, then when we catch him he thinks I won't kill him."

"You wouldn't, would you?" asked Sam.

I started to say, "Only if you're there and physically throw yourself across his crumpled body to prevent it", but instead I met her eyes, took a deep breath, and shook my head. I couldn't even say "no", because I knew how hard it was going to be for me not to.

I resumed pacing for a few moments, then said, "Play."

"Just finished loading our ... passengers," Bill said, as David exited the car. "We should be in Canada long before they find either vehicle. By then it will be too late, they will never find us in Debra's cabin."

Sam slid the chair, pulled the virtual keyboard over several monitors, and started typing.

Back on the main screen, the two men started walking but didn't head for the hanger David had parked behind. They were heading for the one to the west. Once they had almost reached its corner the men flickered a few times and vanished. The screen continued to play but because there wasn't any movement on the screen it appeared to have been paused.

"Hal, are there any security cameras that showed where Bill and David went after leaving the range of the car's Black Knight?" I asked.

"Yes," stated Hal, and the scene shifted to a high-angle view of the hanger bay. The hanger seemed to be some kind of maintenance facility, with two planes inside. An Antonov An-2, and a Piper Tomahawk. The Tomahawk was too small for their needs and had its engine on a hoist. The cylinder heads had been removed and parts strung all over a workbench. Obviously, not where they were headed.

"A bi-plane?" questioned Richards, as the two men came into view and proceeded around the rear of the Piper to come at the An-2 from behind because its engine was already running. It seemed as if the men were talking comfortably as they walked, but between the intermittent obstructions and lack of audio on the tape, it was difficult to tell.

They came to a ladder by the cargo hold and Bill started up into the plane as a third man came into view from below the camera's perspective. He approached Rutschman from behind and as he moved to within five feet, David started to turn. The motion was never completed. The new arrival had pulled a.22 and shot Rutschman just behind the left ear, effectively turning him off like a switch.

David's already dead body dropped like a stone.

"Damn!" both Scott and I exclaimed. I said it not because I had concern any longer for my former driver, but because it meant at least one of the kidnappers was willing to kill.

Bill flinched at the sound of the gunshot but didn't look concerned with the result when he glanced back. He climbed back down, walked a short distance to a workbench, and picked up a heavy-duty trash bag and zip ties, while the newcomer turned the head so that the wound was on top, stopping the trickle of blood from getting on the floor.

Bill returned to the body and with the help of the gunman, pulled the trash bag over David's head and shoulders, then securely zip-tied the bag around his neck. The two men lifted the body and loaded it onto the plane.

"Hal, mark the file 'hanger killing' and scan backward. Determine the total number of humans on board," I instructed.

"Six," replied Hal.

"Can you identify all of them?"

"Yes, with varying percentages of surety. In order of boarding, facial recognition would indicate that at the time the plane left the hanger, Debra Clemons, Jessie Smith, Toni Smith, David Rutschman, Geoffrey Bettany, and William Clemons were the six humans on the plane."

"Playback from the point of the first sight of either Toni or Jessie," I ordered.

The scene shifted to show Bill and Debra lifting the top off of what looked like an industrial water heater, to show Toni and Jessie lying side by side in the tank. They were both hooked up to IV med pumps, EKGs, and compressed air.

Debra proceeded to remove the air masks and disconnect the supply line from the bottle. Then with Bill's help, she replaced the almost empty tank with a full one, reconnected the supply line, and replaced the masks over the sleeping faces of my girls.

"At least we know they were being careful with their lives up to this point," Special Agent Heidner observed.

Once they had changed the tanks, they replaced the top half of the 'water heater', fitted the container with molded Styrofoam packing material, folded the outer box back into place, and glued it shut.

If they did get stopped by customs no drug dog would hit on it because there were no drugs, and if they made them unseal the box all they would find would be a large 'water heater'.

"This has been planned for a very long time," Scott began. "Even if Toni told them about your phones a month ago, I doubt they could have organized this so soon. I think this is about something bigger. Maybe even the Guardian Program."

"I have no idea what this is about," Interrupted Sam. "Quite frankly, does it really matter why they're doing it? Anyway, when Bill mentioned Debra's cabin, I started a search for it. I can't find any property listed under her name, her maiden name, or Bill's name anywhere in North America. Except for the house and Business here in Poison, that is. I'm going to expand my search to include relatives."

"You should also include rentals," suggested Heidner.

"And that Bettany guy," added Shepherd. "Who is he, by the way?"

"Hal, display all known information of Geoffrey Bettany." I requested and watched as the main screen and two others cleared and were replaced with his mug shot, biographical information, and every other recorded nuance of his life.

The sixty-three-year-old pilot was arrested six times for petty crimes, and four times for felonies, as well as being a person of interest in eleven more. Only two convictions on felony charges; drug trafficking and murder two.

He served seventeen years and is currently in his third year of a five-year probation. The suspected eleven cases and two acquittals, all involved drug smuggling and or murder.

"Well, that explains the An-2. It's a short takeoff and a very short landing airplane. Bettany uses it for smuggling," I explained to no one in particular. "Hal, what's the current location of the plane Toni and Jessie were loaded into?"

"Unknown," stated Hal.

"Hal," I began, with more than a little frustration creeping into my voice. "From now on, if you have a possible applicable answer, please answer, just provide the percentage of probability along with the sources you use to extrapolate it. Now, where is the plane?"

"There is a 97.7% probability the plane is at the airport in Fort Nelson, British Columbia. Estimation using a compilation of intermittent ground radar, and visual tracking from Tsikada, KH-9, and Google Earth Satellites, as well as a partial tail number visible from the towers' cameras."

"Hal, did you witness the offloading of the crate that held Toni and Jessie?"

"Yes."

"What happened to it?" I asked.

"It was loaded into an unmarked blue panel van with British Columbia tag charley-golf-two-zero-one-one."

"Do you know its location?"

"Negative, however, it was last noted to be traveling westerly along Highway ninety-seven," responded Hal.

"How long ago?

"Two hours, thirty-two minutes seven seconds."

"Why did it take them so long to get there?" asked Heidner.

I shrugged. "They went north from Poison, so about four hours to Helena, and at least another hour or two there. The cruising speed of an An-2 is only one-hundred-twenty miles an hour, and they had to refuel at least twice and possibly three times. That plane has a ceiling of only forty-five hundred meters. They'd have to fly a far more circuitous route than most planes. Possibly additional stops for replacing the air tanks. Not to mention they probably felt that they could take as long as they wanted."

End of Chapter 34. I hope you enjoyed it and all of my work.

Please Vote, Follow, and Favorite.