On the Other Hand Ch. 07-08

This story was edited by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks and appreciation. Any errors are mine alone. The story was previously posted on another site.

On the Other Hand

Chapter 7 Tracking Her Down

I thought about whether I should try and track Nicole and find out where she was. Was it the wrong thing to do? If she knew, or if she found out, was I sending her a message that I didn't trust her? I wrestled with that for a very short period of time. No ... the element of danger made me sure of what I wanted to do.

"Hey, Cory, how are you. It's Will Travers."

"Hi, Will. Long time since we've talked. What's up?"

"I wonder if you can help me. I'm trying to find out who owns a particular aircraft. I have the registration number."

"Sure, no problem. Let me have it."

I read it off to him.

"Hold on about one minute and I can tell you what you want to know."

"Great, Cory. Thanks for the quick service."

"No problem, man. Let's see, here it is. It's registered to Mid-Continent Leasing. That's not unusual. They buy aircraft and lease them out to corporations, individuals, even the government."

"So, how would I go about finding out who was leasing this aircraft at present?"

"Well, you could ask me," he chuckled. "That's not usually secret information."

"So ... I'm asking then," I said.

"I'll have to call you back. It'll take a few minutes. Give me your number."

I did and after some small talk, I hung up. I had doodled some ideas of how to find out where the aircraft was going, but Cory would tell me quick enough if they were practical.

He called back a half-hour later.

"Okay, it's leased to the U.S. Government. Has been for several months. My guy thinks it's either Treasury Department or F.B.I."

"Okay, I kind of guessed it was government. How do I find out where they were going?"

He laughed. "Well, ordinarily you don't. But in this case, my guy let it slip they were headed for Beverly Municipal in Massachusetts."

"Beverly? That's near Boston, isn't it?"

"The same. Not a lot more info on the flight, but I don't know what else you'd want to know."

"No, hell, Cory, you're a huge help. Thanks and I owe you."

"A couple of beers at The Blue Heron will do."

"You got it. How about Friday after work."

"Perfect. See you there."

I hung up. Cory Willis was a long-established contact in the aviation business. I had written up his business in a feature and he was everlastingly grateful for the good publicity. He was also an interesting guy. I could easily spend a couple of hours with him on a Friday afternoon.

So, there it was. Nicole was in the hands of the Federal Government and flying to Boston. But what for? What did they want with her? The F.B.I. or the Treasury Department? Which one and why?

I spent some time thinking about this puzzle before I began to act. I dug out my e-files on my computer at the office searching for the Hepplinger article. I pulled down "find" and looked for Boston. There were several hits, but after going through them carefully, none of them seemed to be any more than generic references to the area.

So, maybe it wasn't Boston. Let's try Massachusetts instead. This brought up five hits and I began going through them carefully. I studied each of my references and narrowed it down to two possibilities.

There had been a grant-in-aid to the Save Our Coast with Knowledge group, working under the acronym SOCK. Their offices were listed as being in Havenport. They appeared to be against a wide variety of practices that created ocean pollution including freighters dumping ballast illegally, oil spills, garbage transportation, newly planned tanker facilities, and more. Sounded completely legitimate from what I could see.

The second group had applied for a large grant, but had received a smaller one, about half their original request. They were called Friends of New England, and they were a clean air group. FONE didn't seem to be very active, and perhaps that was why the grant was smaller than requested. I looked them up on Google and saw they were in Springfield. I checked their news section and discovered it hadn't been updated for almost a year. I wondered if the group was still active.

A quick phone call to the FONE office got me an answering machine. I requested a call back and left my cell phone number. It wasn't until the next morning that I had a call from a young man. I asked about his group and it only took a couple of questions to determine they were a shoestring outfit and pretty much living day-to-day. They hardly seemed like the target of a government investigation, if that's what it was.

I started to dig a little deeper into SOCK. They'd been around about ten years, having grown out of another organization that had found they were going in too many directions at once. SOCK was an information gathering and dissemination organization. They didn't rally, or protest, or lobby from what I could tell. But, and this was the strange part, they were pretty damn big. They had offices right in the town center and according to the records, it was a heritage building. Not exactly beggar's quarters.

They also seemed to be quite generous with their salaries. When I looked at the corporate structure, I saw some salaries attached that looked more like what I would expect in the financial district rather than a volunteer organization looking for handouts and grants. The more I looked, the more I began to sense what might be going on. The I.R.S. could be interested in this organization. Were they dodging taxes they should have been paying? That was one possibility.

But it didn't answer a couple of my main questions. I could see why they might want Nicole for assistance with an audit. She knew the basis on which their grant was made. It would make sense for her to be involved. But what about the possibility of danger? Tax evasion or fraud seldom provoked anyone to violence. Flight, maybe, but violence? It didn't add up.

And those two guys that met her at the airport. They didn't seem in the least bit concerned that I was there. When I looked carefully, however, I was pretty sure they were F.B.I. I didn't see any weapons bulge, but the haircuts and the suits and the physical size of them virtually screamed federal agent. I was fairly sure they weren't I.R.S.

What now? She might be in Havenport. Then again, I could be way off. It might be somewhere else altogether. Then another thought struck me. I wondered if her phone calls were being monitored. Maybe even her room. If these people were playing secret agent, then anything was possible. I wondered how I might warn her. There was a way. It wasn't subtle. I'd ask her.

I knew Nicole would call home before she called me. Jimmy's bedtime was eight-thirty, so I expected to hear from her sometime after that. I was right. The Skype video call alert came up at eight-fifty that evening. I answered immediately.

"Hey, sweetheart, how are you?" I said without thinking.

"Sweetheart? You're awfully forward this evening Mr. Travers." I could see by the look on her face that she was kidding.

"How was your flight?"

"Fine. It was the first time I'd ever flown in one of those planes. It was amazing how comfortable and fast they are."

"Yes, I'm sure. Are you in your hotel room now?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"Sort of? I don't understand."

"Actually, I'm staying at a compound that the people I'm with are renting. I guess it was cheaper than a bunch of expensive hotel rooms."

"So, you have a private room?"

"Yes. It's quite nice, but very Spartan. It could use a decorator's touch," she said, looking around her.

"Do I need to worry about someone listening to our conversation?"

"No ... we can talk," she said with a smile. "They aren't quite that paranoid."

"Those two SUV's that were parked beside us at the airport. They were government units."

She nodded. "They are the protection I talked about."

"I know where you are ... approximately."

"You do? How?"

"I'm a reporter, remember. I have friends in low places," I chuckled, trying to keep it light.

"Okay, Mister Smartypants, just where do you think I am?"

"I hope you like New England Clam Chowder," I kidded.

"You're just guessing."

"How about Havenport, then?"

"Holy ... jeez Will. How did you figure it out?"

"Research, contacts, and my massive brain."

"You can't say a word to anyone, Will. You just can't."

"I got that part, Nicole. I won't do anything to jeopardize your mission. But I think whoever is running that show is trying to frighten you to make sure you don't talk to someone dangerous like me."

"Well if that's what their plan is, it's working perfectly."

"Have you started your project?"

"Yeah. They don't mess around. I was on it all day until five-thirty. Up at six in the morning, at the workroom by seven-thirty. There's no lollygagging on this job."

"Well, if nothing else, it will help the time go quickly."

"I miss you already, Will. I wish I didn't have to do this. I'd much rather be with you."

"I'm glad to hear it. I feel the same way. What are you going to do for entertainment or relaxation?"

"They've got an exercise center here, a big media room, and I can walk into town and look around. I'll keep busy. What about you?"

"Oh, I've decided to catch up on some reading. I've had three books going and haven't finished any of them."

"What are they?"

"Uhhm, Jared Diamond's Collapse, Bruce Feiler's Walking the Bible, and something I'll give your father when I'm finished with it. It's called How the Scots Invented the Modern World."

"Daddy will love that last one. Sounds like pretty heavy reading though."

"I'm hoping they will numb me enough to sleep so I can dream about a certain lovely lady that I would love to have in my arms."

"And I'll dream about a certain handsome man I'd love to have in my arms."

"Before I forget, I'm taking Jimmy to another play this weekend. It's another juvenile mystery and he's already talking about it. Should be fun."

"Oh, Will. You are so good to him. You'd make great father material."

"I'm practicing."

"Keep it up, you're doing wonderfully well."

"Thanks."

We talked a bit longer and then I could see she was getting tired. I was keeping her up. As we signed off I saw her fingers come up and wipe her eyes. I could have done the same thing.

***

As the days passed, I worked off and on trying to find a link between SOCK and anything remotely criminal. It was frustrating. I couldn't connect any dots at all. Even though on the surface of it they were suspiciously affluent without reason, I was sure the I.R.S. would have been on their case if it was as transparent as it seemed. No, I was missing something. Or, I wasn't able to see something. After I while, I surrendered. There was nothing to go on.

Our nightly calls to each other became more personal. I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me and I found a dozen different ways to do it. Everything that she said to me told me she felt the same way. I wondered when she came home from her project if she would tell me what she had been holding back from admitting to herself.

I was spending every Saturday with Jimmy. Not because I thought it was a way to endear myself to Nicole, but because I genuinely enjoyed being with him. We found things to do that weren't in the guide book. I took him out to the air force base and we watched the planes take off and land. As far as Jimmy was concerned, we could have spent the whole day there.

I bought him a couple of books. One was an old Hardy Boys novel to see how he liked it. There were literally dozens of HB mysteries and I would do anything to encourage him to read. The other book I purchased was a coffee table sized book on airplanes. He would see a plane at the airport, then look it up in his book. I had found a way to get him excited about books.

Nicole knew all this, of course. Her mother kept her well informed of my comings and goings around their house. I was spending some time with Angus and learning quite a bit about the gas-chemical business. The Harborside Refinery was an old established fixture on the waterfront and Angus was the manager of safety and security.

"What do you have to worry about as far as security, Angus?" I asked as we sipped his favorite single-malt.

"Oh, I suppose there'd always some fool who thinks he can pinch some petrol or a lorry or something, but the thing I keep a watch for is these murderous eco-terrorists. They'd blow up the world if they thought it would further their cause."

"Do we really have to worry about them?" I asked, only vaguely realizing it was a current issue in our country.

"Aye. They've had some success in northern Canada on the pipelines. They even blew one up in Russia, but the buggers never admitted it. These hijacked tankers off Somalia ... they're a prime target and don't think the Navy doesn't realize it. There's a rumor going around that the explosion in Port Arthur, Texas, might have been deliberate. That keeps me on my watch, Lad."

"We don't hear much about them. Are they organized?"

"Well, the Earth Liberation Front is well known. The Animal Liberation Front is another one. They aren't all after the same thing, Will. That's what makes them so damnably hard to deal with. One minute it's a refinery, the next it's a pipeline, then an abortion clinic, a logging operation, then a zoo. You never know what to expect next. I just assume that my place is on their list."

I thought about what Angus was suggesting. Was there any connection with environmental organizations and environmental terrorism? It was another potential lead and worth trying to follow up.

***

"How are you doing, love?" I asked as we connected on Skype.

"I'm okay, I guess. Lonely, to tell the truth. Just one more week before I can come home for a break."

"Still going back for a second time?"

"Yes. I'm afraid so. It's really a lot of paperwork, to be honest, Will. I'd love to be able to tell you about it ... and I will when this is all over. But for now, I just keep my head down and do my job. But ... I miss you. I miss Jimmy and Mom and Dad, but most of all, I miss you."

"I know how you feel. Do you know when you're coming home yet?"

"Yes, we plan to fly out Friday afternoon and we should be in Saginaw by seven o'clock. I'll be home in time to put Jimmy to bed."

"I'll meet you at the airport."

"Yes, please. You're the first face I want to see and I don't think Jimmy should be around to see what I'm going to do to you."

"Ooooweee! What do I have to look forward to?"

"Something I've been saving for the last month. Something I've needed to find out for sure. So be prepared," she grinned.

"I wish you hadn't told me that," I kidded. "I've got five more days before I find out what it is. I don't know if I can hold out that long."

"It will be worth it if you do," she smiled, wiggling her eyebrows.

"I know it will. You wouldn't tease me like this if you didn't mean it."

"See this calendar?" she asked, holding up a large wall calendar to the webcam. "See all those X's? I've been marking off all the days that we've been apart. I'm going to put a different mark on the days that I'm home. A very different mark."

"I can't wait, Sweetheart. I'm going to be counting the minutes, much less the hours or days."

"Call me Sweetheart again. I love the sound of it."

"I'll call you Sweetheart anytime you want, Sweetheart."

"I never thought you were the mushy type," she giggled.

"I'm not ... or at least, I wasn't until I met you."

We went on like that until it was time to sign off. I was so energized with her promise of what I could expect when she came home. I lay in bed that Sunday night and tried to imagine what it would be like to make love to her.

Chapter 8 Starting and Stopping

I leaned on the corner of the hangar as the sleek jet rolled to a stop only fifty feet away. I was as tight as the E string on a guitar, but I wouldn't have long to wait. No baggage claim, no crowding to get off the aircraft, no long walks up the jetway and through the terminal. No, I wouldn't have long to wait at all.

She wasn't first off the plane, but close. She saw me immediately and came on the run toward me. I held my arms open and she leaped into them. We held each other tightly, her feet not touching the ground as I kissed her face and lips and neck at a frantic pace.

As some point I put her down and saw the tears. I also saw the smile. I wrapped her in my arms again, holding her for fear she would be gone again if I didn't.

"I love you, Nicole."

"I love you too, Will."

"Can I put your bags in the car, Ma'am?" the dark-suited man asked with a smile. I hadn't even seen him approach. I was otherwise occupied.

I opened the trunk and thanked him for his help. I held the door for Nicole and she slipped into the passenger seat, smiling her thanks. I got in my side, closed the door and turned to her.

"Welcome home, Sweetheart."

Her eyes glistened still with unshed tears but the smile remained fixed on her face. I leaned over and kissed her again. We held each other for a few moments.

"Let's go home," I said.

Jimmy saw us first and ran out the front door and into his mother's arms. Mary and Angus watched from the doorway, smiling as their daughter walked hand-in-hand with her son up the path to the front steps. I pulled the bags out of the trunk and followed the noisy, happy group into the house.

***

"How does someone your size so easily overpower someone my size?" I asked as she nuzzled into my shoulder.

"Stored energy. A month of waiting for this, all compressed and ready to explode."

"By that logic, I should have been just as powerful."

"Men are weak, women are strong," she said, nipping at my chin.

How we'd got from there to here was a story on its own. Mary had conspired with Nicole to pack a small overnight bag for her daughter, and with Angus's approval, we were sent off to my condominium the minute Jimmy was asleep with the solemn promise that we would return before nine o'clock Saturday morning.

"It was far better, you know," I said, kissing her forehead.

"Yes ... much more than I dreamed."

"You dreamed about this too?"

"Is that a surprise?"

"No ... I guess not. All that dreaming, though. I didn't match the real thing. Didn't even come close," I said, pulling her even closer to me if that was possible.

"Do you think the next time will be just as good?" she asked, her fingers stroking my cheek.

"Better! Each time, each day, each year ... better."

"Show me," she said, climbing on top of me. "Make love to me again and show me."

"I may need a little time to recover," I said, hoping it wouldn't discourage her.

"Let me help."

And she did.

When we ultimately surrendered, we held each other closely, kissing gently and stroking each other and, in no time at all, falling asleep.

In my dreams that wonderful Friday night, I proposed and she accepted. In my dreams, we had a child that I fathered. In my dreams, Jimmy grew up to be a pilot. In my dreams, everything was perfect.

I awoke with a renewed sense of optimism. I knew now I could manage the last three weeks or so of her being away. We would make the most of this next few days, but I would be thinking of all the tomorrows that were still to come when we could be together. All I had to do was make it happen.

As I lay there in complete contentment, I became aware that Nicole was awake also. I rolled toward her to be greeted with a lovely, sleepy smile.

"Good morning, my love," I whispered.

"Yes ... very good," she murmured in return, her hand on the side of my face and a look of love in her eyes that made me weak. How did I ever get this lucky to find this woman?