Ripper (57 page)

“I take it you and your computer friend broke into their system
to uncover these?” the president asked with a frown while gesturing to the reports on the large-screen monitor.

“Yes, sir, that’s what Europa and I do.”

Niles nodded his head, thankful that Pete stood up for himself and Europa against the snide remark of his friend the president.

“What is not listed in the professor’s journal but can be found in the police archive reports is the fact that among
the horrifying wounds received by these women in the tainted autopsy reports, each of the prostitutes listed as murdered had been pregnant at the time of her death. The real reports state that the two-to-three-month-old embryos had been cut from the wombs of these ladies. The massacre of the women that ensued afterword was to cover up the fact of the missing embryos.”

“Wait Dr. Golding. Are you
saying that Jack the Ripper was responsible for this?” asked the president.

“No, not the Jack the Ripper that has been presented to the world by the London constabulary, Mr. President, but Professor Lawrence Jackson Ambrose, the real Jack the Ripper or, if you like, the real Jekyll and Hyde. He murdered these women while under the influence of small doses of Perdition’s Fire so he could break
the laws of man and science with a clear conscience. He collected the fetuses to be used in an experiment that should not have been possible at the time, but one that Europa has uncovered evidence of—the stem cell research that led to gaining strength, growth, and intelligence, all to be used as an additive to the food eaten by members of the British armed forces. That is exactly what he was hired
to do. Make supersoldiers for Her Majesty’s government. Not crazed beasts as we saw here at the complex, but coldly calculating men with superior fighting strength and intelligence. That’s with small doses.”

Everyone was stunned to silence as Pete went through his gathered evidence, from Queen Victoria’s letters ordering the hiring of Ambrose and the purchase of his advanced theory, to the cover-up
that ensued. Even the photo analysis of the advanced equipment used by Ambrose to create a genetic monster for the ages, as they themselves had recently been witness to, was fully documented. The experts say Ambrose was a genius and a hundred years ahead of his time.

“He was the first true geneticist,” Virginia commented.

“Let’s skip to the point Dr. Golding. Do you and your outlaw computer
know who sent in these mercenarys?” the president asked Pete, turning to Niles directly.

“No. But we will find out who assisted them over here; I damn well guarantee that,” Niles said, almost challenging his old friend to deny his efforts in that regard. “I lost twenty-two men and women in this attack, and I will find the people responsible. Do you agree?”

The president nodded his head.

“Thank
you.”

With that the Event Group began in earnest to continue on with its work. Only now all 656 members of Department 5656 had the added incentive of finding out who the Americans were who assisted in the traitorous act of attacking their home.

SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS
THREE DAYS LATER

Jack stood next to his mother as the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave. The colonel was happy that Sarah
and his mother Cally had hit it off so well and in such a trying time as this. Jack wondered if maybe one day his mother would have another daughter to help with her sorrow of losing Lynn.

As Jack watched, he knew that his sister’s murder was not as random as the police made it out to be. Like the president, he never believed in coincidence. He had a gut feeling she had died because of him in
some way. He felt responsible.

Cally Collins reached out and took Jack’s arm, reaching over with her other hand to take Sarah’s on the opposite side. Together they strode over to where a very sore and weak Jason Ryan, alongside Will Mendenhall, Gloria Bannister, Virginia Pollock, Alice Hamilton, and finally, Captain Carl Everett, stood waiting for them.

Jack saw Niles on his crutches with Pete
Golding and Charlie Hindershot Ellenshaw III standing next to him. They were all dressed in their best black suits and looked as out of place as ever. Collins excused himself as Everett and Sarah joined him while Alice went to speak with Cally.

Jack faced the director of Department 5656 who only nodded his head and reached inside his jacket pocket, bringing out a piece of paper and handing it
to Collins.

“Colonel, what would you like me to do with that?”

Jack looked down at the resignation letter and handed it back to Niles.

“Process it, I’m done,” he said as Sarah placed her arm through his.

“Jack,” Ellenshaw said, no longer the goof he was a few years back when Collins had joined the Group, “tear it up. You need us, and we sure as hell need you.”

“Sorry, Doc, but—”

“Colonel,
listen to what Niles has to say, will you?” Pete Golding asked.

Collins took a deep breath and dipped his chin in surrender. Niles was going to say what he wanted to say.

“The FBI recovered the vehicles used by the assault forces in Las Vegas. They found very little with the exception of these,” Niles said handing over two sheets of paper to Collins.

“Recognize those, Colonel?” Pete asked for
Niles as Jack studied the papers.

“They’re privately generated satellite target tracking reports. No company name though.”

“The tracking target, Jack, was you. Evidently that was how this Smith character tracked you to Nellis. You must have been tagged by those maniacs in Mexico during the rescue that night,” Niles finished.

Collins shook his head, barely controlling his anger over the fact
that he had been bugged and hadn’t even suspected it. He started to give the tracking reports back when Niles pushed them away and gestured for Collins to look at the reports again.

“Jack, the reports are time and security stamped by a government agency that accepted them. The code is listed as one belonging to the CIA.”

Collins was stunned, but not quite as much as the others that were standing
there listening.

“Someone at the CIA passed this information on to Smith and his assault team,” Sarah said, her own anger at the obvious betrayal showing in her voice.

Compton watched Collins for the longest time as Jack continued to look at the two tracking reports with their computer-generated time stamps on their faces. Niles swallowed and got the colonel’s attention.

“Jack, you have many
duties at the Group, and if you would stay with the department and continue as the head of security, I swear to you that whenever you’re free, I’ll give you carte blanche to use any means at the Group’s disposal to find your sister’s killer. And I don’t mean to bring whoever it is to justice. You do it your way, and I’ll back you 100%. Everyone here will. Just use all of your skills and find them.”

Collins swallowed hard. He looked at Jason, Will, Virginia, Niles, Pete, and finally Charlie Ellenshaw. He smiled and glanced at Everett, who just nodded his head. But it was Sarah who reached out and took the resignation form from Compton’s hand and tore into two, allowing the pieces to fall to the grass.

“Alright,” Jack said as he took in not just his colleagues but his friends. “But on one
condition,” Collins said with his jaw set firmly. “Because justice has to start somewhere, and I think I know just where it does.”

*   *   *

On a small rise overlooking the cemetery, Hiram Vickers stood next to Director of Operations Samuel Peachtree.

“Imagine my stunned silence when I learned from the president himself that the brother of Lynn Simpson was a war hero and a favorite of the commander
in chief?”

“I read his file, he’s not that frightening,” Vickers said.

Peachtree laughed, turned away from the gravesite, and started walking back to the limousine that was waiting for him.

“You find that funny?” Vickers asked.

“Tell me Hiram,” Peachtree said stopping and turning, “which file was it you read?”

“What do you mean?”

“You are an idiot aren’t you?”

“I am still not intimidated
by a man who only achieved the rank of colonel in his time with the army. Not very motivated is he? The president’s friend Collins is nothing but a once-upon-a-time tiger that has been declawed and placed out to pasture, buried at some desk where the army can keep track of him.”

Peachtree smiled as he allowed his driver to open the rear door as he approached.

“You know Hiram, the president explained
to me in the Oval Office after he lamented on Ms. Simpson’s passing that Jack Collins is probably the single best combat soldier this nation has ever produced.” He smiled. “Maybe you should really try doing your homework sometimes on people who could bring us both down.”

“Why is that?”

“Because if you did, you would know that Colonel Jack Collins won’t rest until he kills you. And that dear
Hiram is from the mouth of the president of the United States himself.” Peachtree laughed as he sat down inside the limo. “Hell, he probably won’t rest until he kills both of us.”

Samuel Peachtree closed the door and the limousine left in a cloud of dust, leaving Hiram Vickers alone to contemplate his fate if Collins found out he was behind his sister’s murder.

EPILOGUE

What is justice?
This unapparent fairness
supposed to combine rather than divide,
just a word that likes to hide,
this unapparent fairness,
what is justice?

—Aadil Malik

WASHINGTON, D.C.
THE JUSTICE DEPARTMENT
FIVE WEEKS LATER

The man known as Colonel Henri Farbeaux sat in a chair across from none other than the attorney general of the United States himself. He had been read
his rights and informed that the president had taken a personal interest in his case.

Henri was read his rights for the third time under American law and the charges against him were read. Still feeling weak from his wounds received at the Event Group Complex deep beneath the Nevada desert, Henri really wasn’t interested in how many charges of murder and theft they could come up with.

“Do you
have anything to say at this time?” the attorney general asked, smiling that he was sitting across from the famous French thief and cold-blooded killer.

“The jail complex in which I am currently residing has absolutely the worst cuisine I have ever sampled. Can you do something about that?”

The attorney general smiled and then stood up with his two assistants.

“Oh, we’ll get right on that Colonel,”
the attorney general quipped. “The guards will take you back to city jail. Have fun getting acquainted with our local criminals. They don’t have quite the discriminating taste you have, but they’re a fun bunch of boys to spend a little quality time with.”

Farbeaux watched as the three well-dressed men left the room. He reached up and scratched his nose, rattling the handcuffs on both wrists.
He heard the door open and two guards walked in. One lifted him up by the arm and the other pulled out his chair—all done in a not-too-gentle manner.

“Okay pal, time to go,” said a voice behind him.

Henri was led out of the room, and instead of going straight to the elevator they made a detour to the stairwell on the fifth floor. One guard with dark hair opened the door and the other who stood
behind Henri pushed him through the exit. There was a third man waiting in the shadows that he couldn’t see. The large man cleared his throat. Then he tossed something to the man standing behind him. Suddenly the Frenchman felt the pressure of the cuffs as they fell free of his wrists. Rubbing them with his hands Farbeaux thought he understood. What was about to happen to him?

“Ah, shot while
trying to escape. Very good. After all, you could have me spilling too much about deep, dark government agencies no one knows exists, right?”

The large man reached out from the shadows and opened the second exit door. As Henri looked out into the stairwell and the bright sunlight beyond, he glanced back at his two guards. He saw the larger man step out into the lighted doorway.

“As we say back
home, Colonel, you better get while the gettin’ is good.”

Farbeaux saw the captain named Everett, resplendent in his blue guard’s uniform, standing before him. Henri turned and saw Will Mendenhall and Jason Ryan as they peeled off their absconded uniform jackets and tossed them onto the handcuffed guards they had taken them from who were wiggling and cursing under taped mouths.

“Gentlemen, you
have my thanks, so before someone changes his mind, I bid you adieu.” Henri ran from the fourth floor and didn’t stop until he was on the crowded street far below.

As Farbeaux crossed the street he saw a familiar form standing on the corner. He stopped short and smiled at the man staring at him. Henri then stood ramrod straight and saluted. Henri Farbeaux laughed and crossed the street, disappearing
into the thick traffic of the capital.

On the corner watching the escape of one of the most wanted criminal minds on earth, Colonel Jack Collins nodded his head as he saw Henri escape from American justice.

Jack took a deep breath and turned as Sarah approached and took his hand.

“Satisfied?” he asked as he finally smiled and looked down at her healing face, seeing his own reflection in her
sunglasses. Unlike Farbeaux a few weeks before, he was able to see his reflection and not turn away in shame.

Sarah McIntire smiled and went to her tiptoes to kiss Jack on the lips.

“Thank you, Jack.”

As Sarah released Collins he continued to look at her and wondered how long it had been since Sarah had started falling for the Frenchman.

“Shall we go home?” Sarah said, smiling up at Jack Collins,
who was caught with his darkest thoughts running through his mind. Finally, he smiled back.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

Also by David L. Golemon

Event

Legend

Ancients

Leviathan

Primeval

Legacy

ABOUT THE AUTHOR