Honor Thy Mother & Thy Father Ch. 15

If the NSA was coming to take Patty and her programs today, they picked the worst day of the week, month, and year to do it. The six-man NSA squad looking over the property thought the exact opposite. They believed they could get lost in the crowd of men and women, who were working on the various projects, and the guests, who were mingling around with each other, and chasing after their children.

They believed they could slip into the motorhome and within six or seven minutes, do a fingertip search of the entire area, slip away with the programs; and with her, hopefully alive, but if not, their boss would be just as happy.

They did not know their plan had been compromised. They would find out soon enough, and do some 'Wet Work,' in the process.

They had the plans of the Motorhome memorized, and had practiced on a duplicate model of it. A digital analyzer would defeat the security system protecting the front door. It would take less than 15 seconds to open it, get inside, and close it. There was an escape hatch on the roof of the vehicle, in case they had to beat a hasty, unplanned retreat.

They did not know part of the day's festivities included washing and waxing the Motorhome, from bumper to bumper. Plans had been changed for that day, and the six NSA operatives would be caught with their pants around their ankles, because of a female computer geek, and the volunteer firefighters who saved her life.

As they watched from the tree line separating the properties, they saw several opportunities to sneak onto the property, and enter the vehicle. However, as soon as they started to move in, someone would walk by, and they had to retreat.

Finally, the leader said, "We are never going to be able to do this from here. Let's separate into pairs, and walk up the driveway like everyone else is. When the music starts, and everyone's attention is focused there, that's when we will make our move."

By 12:30 PM, the firefighters had cleaned up the debris from the barn, and put the burnt lumber into the bright green dumpsters to be hauled away to the recycling facility, just in time to see the four large Fire Department Pumper Trucks arrive, and take up their positions for their events, later in the day. One truck filled the empty pit with water, and made sure it was as muddy as it could be. By forcing some of the dirt that was extracted back into the hole, the mud was as thick as molasses.

The men placed 50 yards of heavy knotted rope, alongside the pit, for the tug-of-war.

The last item to arrive was a huge tow truck. It took up a position behind the stage, and 50 feet in front of Patty's motorhome. Few people knew why, and many others could not have cared any less.

The men from the NSA thought this was a gift from God. Not only did the canvas from the stage, block most of the motorhome from view, but now this humongous tow truck blocked the remainder of it. They would have no trouble gaining entrance to it, without being seen.

By 12:45, all the churchgoers, and police, in plain clothes, arrived for the festivities. Music started playing, as people lined up for their food, and children started playing in the area assigned for them.

Patty and Stephano circulated among their new neighbors and friends. They thanked them for the heroism of their husbands, wives, and sweethearts, for saving her life. She told all of them if they ever needed her help, not be afraid to ask her. She would be more than happy to do anything she could to return that favor.

Her guests from were thoroughly impressed by her heartfelt thanks, and her offer of help. They were also impressed by the size of the party she was throwing for them. No one had ever done anything like this before. There were many extremely wealthy people in this area. The fire department had done more for them, in the past, than they had done for Patricia Parent. None of them had shown any appreciation for their sacrifices, except pay their taxes. It was nice to know that someone appreciated what the volunteer fire department did for this community.

The NSA agents ate, mingled, talked with the guests, and enjoyed the music, as they gravitated towards the edge of the crowd. If they had not been wearing identical clothing, they may not have been so obvious to the firefighters, who were using their radios to keep track of them.

When the band took the stage, and started playing, nearly everyone's attention zeroed in on them. The six NSA agents moved surreptitiously away from the crowd, and moving in three separate directions, wound up in the same place; the front door of Patty's motorhome. Within seconds, they were inside, and the door was closed.

The firefighters and police 'walked' into action. They put rubber plugs into the exterior edges of the door to keep it from opening. Three 80-pound bags were already in place over the emergency exit on top of the vehicle. If the agents wanted to escape, they would be forced to shoot their way out, through the windows, and soon they would realize this was problematic, also.

The signal was given for the tow truck to move. The driver and his aid, slipped out of the cab, ran the cables under the front of the motorhome, and silently, attached the hooks to the bolts. They moved back to the wrecker, put tension on the cables, and waited for the signal from the fire chief.

When the chief gave the signal, 25 men stepped away from the two sides and front of the vehicle, so they could be clearly seen. The tow truck started backing up and reeling in the cables, lifting the front of the bus to a dizzying 30°.

The men inside were trained professionals, and they did not panic. They drew their weapons and looked for the threat they were facing. One pulled down the escape ladder and tried to push open the emergency hatch on top. It would not budge. He pushed with every muscle in his body, and it still would not move.

He yelled down to his boss, "They sealed us in."

"Who the fuck are these people?"

"It looks like the Fire Department chief."

"I see that you idiot, but how did they know we were in here? It was probably that bitch and her computer again. We should have shot her first. Use the computer on that desk, send a message, and tell them this operation is blown."

The agent booted up the computer, and saw Patty's face. She said, "Hello gentlemen; did you like our little surprise? This computer is set up for local access only. It has no Internet capability. You have several choices. 1. As good, loyal NSA agents you could kill each other and save the agency the embarrassment of being captured. Don't forget to write your love ones a goodbye letter; there is paper and pens in the drawer to your right. 2. You could disable your weapons; all of them, and you could leave my home, one at a time. You will surrender to the local police. They will hand you over to the FBI, who will be here shortly. We do not expect you to talk, because that would be against your rules. Normally, you do not carry identification on you for this type of operation, but we know kidnapping and killing me was part of your plan. The intercepted communication was very clear on that matter. However, we have two hours of film and voiceprints of you, and the Bureau should be able to do something with that, as they parade you on television before the United States Congress and public. 3. However, even if you surrender, you will be subjected to a trial by fire, because the fire department is the one who set up this little adventure for you. You are known for your harsh treatment of prisoners, including waterboarding, burning people with cigarettes, putting electrodes on their genitals, and other nasty things. However, what we have planned for you is not that harsh. We will have fun at your expense. You have one minute from the time you hear the sheriff on his bullhorn, telling you to surrender, to make up your mind. Tata."

The six agents looked at one another, and wondered what the hell went wrong. Option number one was a no go. It was option number two and three that they were going to have to live with.

Before the sheriff called out on his bullhorn, the lead agent called out, "We would like to discuss the terms for our surrender."

The sheriff replied, "Here are your terms: Open the door 6 inches, throw out your empty weapons, followed by all your cartridges. If you have any knives, or other devices to harm my men, throw those out, also. If you have any needles or pills, those come out next. I have nine men out here, with guns pointing at you. There are enough firefighters here, with axes and chainsaws to cut you to pieces. Don't do anything stupid. After you throw out your weapons close the door and stay inside until I tell you to come out. Do you understand?"

"Yes sheriff, your instructions are as clear as day."

Shortly afterwards, the front door opened, and weapons flew to the ground, followed by enough cartridges to start a small war. The door closed, and a deputy, with gloved hands picked up everything and put them into individual plastic bags. There were so many cartridges on the ground; he put them into one large bag.

The sheriff had the tow truck driver lower the bus to ground level, and ordered one man out at a time. As each agent stepped out, they were frisked and handcuffed. Patty was called over after they were secured, to see if she recognized any of them.

She looked at the six men and recognized two of them. She said "I remember you. You came into the FBI building on the first day I was there. I walked right by you, with my lawyer, talking about moonshine."

The lead agent said, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

Patty said, "If you tell one more lie like that, I swear, as God is my witness, I will put you on a table, and cut your balls off in front of each of these witnesses. You would have killed me, without thinking about it, because someone told you to do it. Now make up your mind, and do it quickly.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Patty told the sheriff, "You only captured five agents today."

The sheriff said, "Yes ma'am."

Patty looked at the firefighters, and asked for a sharp knife.

Before she could blink, nearly everyone had a knife ready for her use. She took one, grabbed the agent by the handcuffs, and dragged him towards the stage. She asked one of the stagehands for a hammer and four long nails.

She turned and asked the sheriff for his bullhorn. "Ladies, if you don't want your children to see blood or hear screaming, please take them to the entertainment area. This person was either going to kidnapped me, or kill me. I am not going to kill him, but I think it is only appropriate that he not be able to bring a child into this world, who would be a carbon copy of himself."

A funny thing happened at that point. The women told their husbands to take their children to the entertainment area. They wanted to witness the castration of a man who would do such a thing to a woman for no reason.

The stagehand returned with a hammer and four 5-inch spikes.

Patty asked the sheriff to remove his handcuffs, and the firefighters to strip the agent and hold him down. Her eyes were red, and filled with fury. The agent's eyes were filled with loathing.

William stepped in front of his daughter. "Patty, don't do this. You will live with it forever."

"So will he, dad. He will never touch a woman again in the same way. The next time he looks at one, he will see me staring back at him. He will wonder why he is still alive. He will no longer be a man. He will be a eunuch. A man killed my mother, but I am not a murderer. I am going to let him continue to walk this earth, and wonder why he couldn't answer a simple question. He had to lie because he was trained to lie. He was going to kill me because they told him to kill me. I didn't do anything wrong, and he didn't care. Step aside, dad, please. "

Jemma looked at her husband. "William, what would you have me do if he had tried to kill or kidnapped me? What would you have done if it was me?"

William saw the pleading in Jemma's eyes, nodded his head, and stepped aside.

Stephano held the agent's right hand against the stage. Patty, put the spike in the center of his palm, and said, "You could have saved yourself the ignominy of this punishment by telling the truth about a simple meeting of the two of us. You couldn't do that because you are so brainwashed by a fucking agency, which is becoming worse than the CIA. I hope you are married. I hope you are in love with your wife, and she is in love with you. I hope that your sex life was absolutely wonderful, because in a few minutes, it will be gone forever. I hope it hurts you mentally, more than this hurts physically. Close your eyes, you son of a bitch, unless you want to get blood in them."

Patty pressed the spike deep into his palm. She raised the hammer above her head, and...

"Patty, put that hammer down; don't make me kill you"

"I am going to Michael, right after I put this spike through his hand."

"Patty, please, I am not kidding; I will kill you."

"What difference does it make Michael? Do you think this is going to be the last time they are going to try to kill me? Do you think they are ever going to leave me alone? I finally have a life I want to live, and these bastards show up, and ruin it for me, again. Kill me, and get it over with, Michael."

"Patty, I can guarantee you it will never happen again. I give you my word no one will ever harm you."

"What are you going to do Michael? Are you going to put a fence of men around me 24 hours a day, seven days a week for the rest of my life? They will kill Stephano and that would kill me. If we have a child, they will kill it, and that would kill me. I have no chance at a normal life again, because of these people. Just kill me, and get it over with."

Stephano released the man he was holding and grabbed Patty, as she fell to the ground. William and Jemma rushed to her also. She was unconscious and the EMT's rushed to her aid.

The agent lying on the stage was not moving. He was crying. He had been shot and wounded on the job before. He had been in countries where his life was in danger every second of the day, and come home unscathed. Today, on an assignment that should have been a piece of cake, a tiny woman had scared him to death, using a hammer and a nail. Most devastating of all, were her words. She was correct. His agency had crossed a very visible line. They had authorized the killing of an innocent American citizen, without a trial by jury, as guaranteed by the Constitution, and he was the point man. He wondered where he had lost his moral compass. How had he convinced himself that this would be the right thing to do, because his superior gave him the order to do it? If he testified against the agency he worked for he would be labeled a traitor by his peers. If he didn't, the agency would continue down a path that would trample on the civil liberties of the American people. Where would it end? It would take more than his testimony to stop an agency as large as the NSA from going rogue. It had to start somewhere; it might as well start with him. He sat up, and while he was putting his clothes back on, he asked to speak to the Director.

While the EMTs were preparing Patty to move to an ambulance, Michael walked over to him and said, "I am in no mood to play your games. What do you want?"

"I want my wife and children to be put into the witness protection program. I want nothing for myself. I will testify about everything I know about the NSA, including who put the contract out on Patricia Parent. As soon as you give me your word, about my family. I will tell you who gave that order."

"You don't want it in writing, in triplicate with your lawyer's approval?"

"No, I looked into that young woman eyes today, and saw my daughter in a few years. I was willing to kill her, because someone told me to do it. They turned me into a monster, and I didn't realize that until today. I was going to kill an US citizen on his say-so, because he was pissed off about her article in the paper. I probably would have gotten a promotion out of it, and a pat on the back for a job well done."

Michael handed him his cell phone. "Call your wife and tell her to start packing clothes for herself and the children. My people will be there within two hours."

As soon as he handed Michael back the phone, he said, "My orders came straight from the top. Director Richard Stengel told me to get both computer programs and get her back to a safe house in Connecticut, or leave her dead, where we found her."

"Will you testify to that in court?"

"If you can get me into court, while I am still breathing, yes sir, I will."

Many things started happening at one time, and thankfully, the people who were given the authority to do it were experts at crisis management.

The sheriff, his men, and four FBI agents took the five NSA agents to jail, after reading them their rights. Each of them was put into an individual cell, and guarded by a separate guard. They were not allowed to talk to each other. They were each allowed one phone call, which was monitored and recorded.

The Fire Chief was put in charge of the afternoon's entertainment. Stephano asked him to keep it going until everything was eaten or everyone departed of their own volition. He wanted everyone to remember today, not for what had happened badly, but for what the day was supposed to be; a day of happiness, and celebration for the firefighters and their families. If everything went well, they hoped to make this a yearly event for the community

Patty was placed in an ambulance and taken to the hospital.

Michael Free said to a subordinate, "Steve, get me Alan Robbins on the line."

"Yes sir, right away."

"Hello Alan, this is Michael Free. How are you, Susan, and, Callum doing?"

"We are fine, Michael, how are things back East. It sounds like you did a wonderful job in New York, with those three mobsters."

"Yes, with the three of those guys in jail, all we have to do is keep an eye on the Colombians and the war they are about to start. We are ready for them, and they don't know it. We are going to slap them down very hard."

"That sounds excellent, Michael. Are you going to come out to visit us soon?"

"It's funny you should ask that Alan. I'm not coming, but I am going to be sending someone in my place."

"Michael, I don't like the tone of your voice. Why does it sound like I am going caving again?"

"Alan, all of the mobsters are in jail. What could you possibly have to go caving for?"

"I don't know Michael, but you are about to spring something on me. I am sweating, and my palms are itchy. My palms are never wrong."

"I am sending you a good guy Alan. He works for the government, and he is going to testify for us. What could possibly be wrong with that?"

"Who is he going to testify against Michael?"

"Some guy by the name of Richard Stengel."

"Richard Stengel, are you out of your fucking mind Michael? Richard Stengel, the head of the NSA, Richard Stengel! You want me to hide a government witness from him?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you send him up to North Dakota, and let him live with the Indians?"

"He doesn't speak the language Alan. I trust you more than I do the entire Sioux nation to protect him."

"You do know that Susan is going to kill me when I tell her about this?"

"Tell her he is doing it to protect Patty Parent from being murdered by the NSA. It may help you with her."

"Do you want to tell me what is going on Michael, or do you want to keep me in the dark?"

"Alan, stay in the dark. You and your family are safer there. I hope to end this quickly, but just in case I can't, don't go asking him questions about what he knows. Let him live in the house, if you want; or in the barn. We will not be sending him to you directly. We are going to try to lose him in the shuffle, before he gets to you."