False Flag (19 page)

Sarge was witnessing firsthand the effect of the power outage. People were starving. They were losing hope. They were disappearing without notice. This once fully occupied building was down to three residents besides themselves. Eighty percent of his neighbors were gone after just three weeks.

“Mr. Marshall, how well do you know your neighbors?” asked Sarge.

“Pretty well. I was the head of the building’s association of residents. You wouldn’t know that because you never attended any of our meetings.”

Sarge let the comment pass. He continued. “I mean, not the ones who remain, but the residents who have left.”

“We’re all acquainted with each other, if that’s what you mean,” said Marshall. “But I don’t know where they are.”

Julia gave Sarge a puzzled look.

“What if I told you I could bring you some help? I have some trusted friends, good people, that could temporarily occupy these abandoned units and lend a helping hand in the process. Do you think your, I mean
our
, neighbors would allow them to stay in their homes until this situation gets better?”

Julia whispered, “What are you thinking, Sarge?”

“The Mechanics.”

Chapter 30

Saturday, September 24, 2016

11:06 a.m.

Town Hall

Belchertown, Massachusetts

Archibald and Pearson leaned over the conference table in the property assessor’s office. John Whelihan, the director of assessments, brought out another stack of maps from the plat cabinet.

“This is very confusing,” said Whelihan. “There haven’t been any permits pulled or licenses obtained on Prescott Peninsula since the radio observatory was constructed out there decades ago. Here are the plats for the entire peninsula, including the specific area around the observatory.” Whelihan pointed to the observatory, the present location of 1PP.

Archibald took the plats and rolled them out across the table, using hardbound copies of the
Massachusetts General Laws Annotated
to hold them down flat. He and Pearson studied them further. Archibald summoned the three men directly reporting to him that had military experience. There were other retired military personnel in the community, but they refused to volunteer their assistance to the Citizen Corps. Archibald told Pearson they would be dealt with after the Prescott Peninsula situation was resolved.

“What have they built out there?” asked Pearson. He leaned back from the table and rubbed his temples. It was his curiosity regarding the activity at Prescott Peninsula that kept him in Belchertown an additional day. He needed to get back to Boston.

“Supposedly, it’s a safe haven for families fleeing an abusive relationship,” replied Archibald. He stood up and threw his pen on the maps. “I was there for the ribbon-cutting ceremony back in June. Hillary was there, as was Senator Morgan. The press was everywhere. Then, that was it.”

“What do you mean?” asked Pearson. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms.

“I mean there wasn’t any more press. Nobody has been past the security detail since the gate and fence were constructed. The only people observed going in or out are military personnel.”

Pearson’s first thought was CIA. There was something wrong with this picture.
Why would a home for abused mommies need military-style protection?

“Also, the helicopter,” added Whelihan.

“What helicopter?” asked Pearson.

“Most of us heard it the night after the power went down,” he replied. “As far as we know, it never left.”

“Was it military?” asked Pearson.

“We don’t know,” replied Archibald.

This stank to high heaven. He was about to ask another question when two of Archibald’s men entered the room with a flyer.

The room became quiet as Archibald reviewed it. Pearson saw that the two men stared at him continuously, and he became annoyed. Archibald looked up at him.

“Archie, what’s going on?” asked Pearson. He moved forward to get a better look at the paper.

“This was delivered through our Citizen Corps mail system,” replied Archibald. “Seems you are in a bit of trouble, Joe.” He handed Pearson the flyer, which indicated he was wanted for treason. It was signed by Governor O’Brien. He started laughing, which caught everyone in the room off guard.

“This is ridiculous and obviously fake,” said Pearson. He reached for his jacket and satphone, but the two men moved to block him. He tried to push past them. “What the fuck? I’m just getting my phone to call the governor!”

“Check his coat,” ordered Archibald. The men produced a satellite phone, but no weapon. “Pat him down too.” Archibald stood firm while his men confirmed that Pearson was unarmed.

“C’mon, Archie, this is some kind of joke or something,” pleaded Pearson. “Let me call the governor now and sort this out. There’s no need for all of this.”

Archibald studied him for a moment and then handed him the phone. “Fellows, give me a moment with Mr. Pearson,” he said. The room cleared, leaving Pearson alone with Archibald. “Look, Joe, I like you. You’ve been a straight shooter with me. This could be a hoax, or our governor has gone off the rails. I’ve learned that he’s like that.”

“It has to be something like that, Archie. Let me call him and find out, okay.”

Archibald studied him for another moment and then leaned in to whisper, “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. By the same token, I don’t want any part of the conversation that you’re about to have. I’ll wait outside.”

“Fair enough,” said Pearson. He dialed O’Brien’s number after Archibald left the room. The phone rang several times and there was no answer. He checked the number and tried again. Same result.

He began to sweat in the enclosed room with no ventilation. He looked around nervously, searching for answers. Pearson had seen enough of O’Brien to know that he was nothing more than a union thug with a lot of newfound
peon power
. If this flyer was real, and it certainly appeared to be, he wasn’t going to submit himself to an idiot like O’Brien.

Pearson walked to the window that overlooked the two-hundred-year-old, historic Clapp Memorial Library. The parking lot and grassed area leading to the building was empty.
I’ve got nothing to lose.
He quietly opened up the wood-clad window and lowered himself to the sidewalk below. Within moments, he escaped into the woods bearing the colors of fall.

*****

Steven slowly approached the security barriers at the intersection of Mill Valley Road and Washington Street. Several vehicles blocked the three-way stop, preventing him from continuing. He and Katie had experienced a similar roadblock entering New York from Pennsylvania. This time his arm wasn’t in a sling and the guards of the fine hamlet of Belchertown weren’t proudly saying
choose freedom
. Citizen Corps patches were prominently displayed on every jacket of the men who approached their car with weapons drawn. This was undoubtedly enemy territory.

“State your business!” the lead guard shouted at Steven from a safe distance.

Steven was careful to show his hands to all the men who surrounded Sarge’s Toyota Bandeirante. He pulled O’Brien’s letter from the dash and handed it through the window. The lead guard took the letter and examined it. He backed away to use a two-way radio, but Steven was unable to hear the conversation. After a few moments, the guard returned.

“Out of the vehicle, and slowly,” the man ordered.

Steven looked at Katie and nodded. Both of them exited simultaneously, keeping eye contact on the welcoming committee.

“We have weapons,” announced Steven. “We’re both going to remove them and allow you to search our vehicle. We don’t want any misunderstandings here. Nobody needs to be a hero or get killed. Fair enough?”

“Remove your weapons and place your hands on your head,” ordered the lead guard.

Steven and Katie complied. After a few moments, their vehicle had been searched and the lead guard was satisfied that there were no surprises. “Come with me, please.” He led Steven and Katie to a panel van and opened the side door to allow them in.

“Mr. Archibald, the chairman of our board of selectmen will see you. Your vehicle and weapons will be returned to you afterwards.”

Steven and Katie dutifully complied. There was no reason to escalate hostilities with the townspeople. This was a time to learn and observe.

Their driver continuously looked in the rearview mirror at his passengers while the man in the passenger seat kept a handgun pointed at them. Katie decided to play the ditzy-girlfriend card.

“Oh, honey, isn’t this town quaint? I’d love to live here after this is all over. What do you think?”

Steven tried to stay serious, but he knew Katie was trying to break down the barriers with their guards. “Absolutely, look at that beautiful old Victorian. I bet those trees are hundreds of years old.” Steven wondered if Katie was impressed with his knowledge of architecture.

“Sir, are these homes reasonably priced?” asked Katie of the guard.

He laughed at her. “Lady, nothing’s for sale anymore. Most of the town’s residents have moved on and left their places behind. The rest of us are here to help Mr. Archibald.”

Katie leaned forward in the seat to allow the driver to notice her figure. “Do you think he might need some more help?” she asked innocently. “I mean, we kinda hate the city now. It’s not as safe or pretty as here.”

The guard lowered his weapon somewhat as he flirted with Katie. “Well, young lass,” he started, assuming Katie’s Irish heritage. “there is always room for one as pretty as you.” He grinned, exposing a few missing teeth.

The driver wheeled the van to the front of the town hall, and they were greeted by two police officers. They slid open the van door and motioned for Steven and Katie to get out.

“Come with us.”

Steven and Katie, sandwiched between the four armed men, entered the town hall, and the first thing they saw was the large contingent at the end of the hallway by a door labeled conference room.

“Wait here,” said one of the men as he entered the large, open space. He spoke with Archibald, who motioned for Steven and Katie to enter. He immediately extended his hand to greet Steven, who shook it in return.

“My name is Ronald Archibald. I understand the governor sent you folks,” he said. While Steven spoke with Archibald, Katie wandered around the room, appearing nonchalant.

“Nice to meet you,” replied Steven. “Thanks for taking the time to meet with us. You look very busy, so I’ll get to the point. Governor O’Brien has instructed us to locate Mr. Joseph Pearson. The governor’s office believes he is in Belchertown.”

Katie continued to wander around the room, making small talk with the men reviewing the maps and plats spread on the large conference table.

“He was here, but has since disappeared,” replied Archibald.

Steven saw that Katie was making progress with the men in the room, so he took his time with Archibald. “When did you see him last?” he asked.

“It’s been several hours. We discovered he was wanted for treason. Because we weren’t sure of the authenticity of this paper flyer, we allowed him the opportunity to call Governor O’Brien.” Archibald handed Steven the flyer issued by O’Brien. Steven examined it briefly and then set it on the table. He saw that the men were studying various maps of Prescott Peninsula.

“Are you organizing a search party?” asked Steven, glancing around the room.

“No, we’ve got bigger fish to fry, as they say,” replied Archibald. “Pearson never caused me any problems, and my constituents’ needs rise above a manhunt for an alleged traitor.”

Katie had toured the entire room and caught Steven’s eye. She nodded that she was finished.

“Is there anything you can tell us, Mr. Archibald, that might assist us in finding this Pearson fella?” asked Steven.

“Not really. He never returned to his hotel room. He didn’t carry a weapon either. The only thing he left here with was a satellite phone.”

*****

Pearson sat in the woods and stared across the lake. With the darkness and the mist of the rain obscuring his view, he was unable to see any activity. The falling rain caused him to shudder, or maybe it was nervousness as he awaited a call from the assistant director of Homeland Security.

Pearson’s superiors had no knowledge of any treason charges against him and were just as surprised as he was to learn of the impending warrant. They were very interested in Pearson’s theory of what brought the charges in the first place, as well as the mystery surrounding the Quabbin Reservoir. It was pouring down rain now, and Pearson tried to take cover at the base of an oak tree, but the leaves were sparse.
Come on! I know it’s Saturday, but someone needs to straighten this out.

Finally, the satellite phone rang, and Pearson, in his haste to answer it, dropped it in the wet leaves. He quickly snatched it up.

“Hello,” he answered, out of breath. For several minutes, Pearson listened to the caller and only occasionally spoke. “Yes, sir. I’m on my way, sir.”

The line went dead, but Pearson found new life. He started south along the shore at a quick trot.
That bastard! I knew he was up to something!

Chapter 31

Saturday, September 24, 2016

2:49 p.m.

Prescott Peninsula

Quabbin Reservoir, Massachusetts

The most common orthodontic problem in children is called malocclusion, or simply
bad bite
. Sometimes this is genetic, other times it can be caused by the early or late loss of baby teeth. The Quinn’s daughter, Penny, began to exhibit evidence of misalignment when she was eight years old. Her orthodontist, Dr. Daniel SinClair, suggested dental braces for Penny as her adult teeth came out. After two years, her braces were beginning to give her problems and needed to be removed. Naturally, under the circumstances, Dr. SinClair was unavailable.