Hi, My Name is Tessee

[bad_karma00]

Oh that's cool. I was just thinking out loud. . .well, on the keyboard, lol. I do love your characters, and your stories, Pac. Thanks for the note


Bad

[Vtshooter]

Thank you for the new chapters Pac. As always, a good read.

[stjwelding]

Great chapter pack thanks.
Wayne

[DustMusher]

Pac,
Thanks for starting this story. The interactions between Mark and Wayne were spot on to what could happen when those two pathologies come head to head with no one else to intervene. You are so insightful and your characters are a=so very real - great writing.

DM

[PacNorWest]

#10

Ben thought about what Will had just announced. "Any tips for dealing with a pissed ambassador with a dead diplomatic delegation of ex-ninja terrorists?" he asked; proud of himself for being so clever.

"You mean other than not being a smart jerk," Will shot right back. "The dudes that will be here tomorrow don't find anything amusing, I can tell you right off the bat. So cool the wisecracks, for one thing," Will was dead serious. "I've only been on the fringe of an FBI investigation one other time, when the Evergreen roadhouse owner was found with millions in money and pounds of assorted drugs. The agency men were professional right down to their wingtips."

"OK," Mark backed down as he contemplated the future. "I sure hate that I will miss work again. I was so fortunate to get the city to hire me, and now this on top of the day I had to take off for Borg's funeral; I'll get sacked for sure," he glumly sighed. For something to do, he picked up the dishes and placed them in the sink and tipped water in from the pitcher to cover the gooey residue. The pan he filled and put it next to the sink and stuck the silverware in it. The dishcloth he dusted across the tabletop and called it good.

"Are there any cookies?" Will asked hopefully, as he looked around searching for the sweets. "I don't know what Clora puts in those cookies, but there is a certain lady dispatcher that becomes putty in my hands when I bribe her with these gems." There, Will had said aloud what he hardly dared think about, a relationship that might lead to something.

"Putty huh?" Mark picked right up on the casual reference. "Well, get the recipe from Clora. She shares it with everyone. Meanwhile, have another." Mark held out the plate and Will wasn't bashful at all.

"So how deep is the doo doo, really?" Mark asked as he poured coffee. Will looked alarmed and glanced at his watch. "This isn't Clora's brew," Mark assured him quickly, "I think Cheryl made it."

"Fill it up," Will pushed a mug toward the coffeepot. "Well from a legal standpoint, they were on our place and fired on us first so we were justified in returning the fire. RIGHT?" Will pushed hard as he saw the hesitation Mark exhibited before nodding agreement.

"That right there will probably get you a trip to the lie detector lab," Will added quickly. "I figured out right away you were pretty straight, but you had better get with the program unless you want to spend time in jail for causing an international incident. Our government would sacrifice you as an individual in the blink of an eye to appease the country that holds a walloping big chunk of our debt."

"Yeah, I suppose. I'll give it some thought tonight," Mark promised.

"Beside, the agency wants to question you about Borg, it seems he had his fingers in a couple of places that are considered a no no for an American citizen."

"Great," Mark said disgustedly. "Just what I need, more association with that man. I'd prefer that he just go away."

"He will, when they get good and ready," Will laughed humorlessly.

"Let's get to bed. Morning will come early enough," Mark eased himself out of the chair. Handling Clora had punished his ribs as she was not an inconsiderable woman. Mark looked at his options for sleep. It was either with sick Clora or squirmy Milo. He choose Clora.


Ev pulled on his boots and coat and walked up to Wayne's to check on the pitiful man. Wayne was sitting in the living room with the stove door open, watching the flames dance.

Ev tapped softly on the door and Wayne's hand waved him in. "I've always wondered what hell was like," the younger man said to the older, as he stared deep into the fire. Wayne was mesmerized by the burning swirls, and the alarm bells started ringing in Ev's mind. He sure hoped Wayne had no intention of setting his place a fire, but the jumble of nonsense coming out of his mouth didn't preclude it.

Ev settled deep into the only easy chair in the room. He could tell it was gonna be one heck of a long night, there was no way he was going to leave Wayne by himself.

Wayne asked pensively "why do the ladies I ask into my life always die?"

If Wayne expected Ev to sluff off the question, he was very mistaken. "You always look for women that are victims, " Ev said with some heat to his voice. "I have never once seen you pick a woman that is your equal. This last woman was so messed in the head that she was starving herself because she didn't want to eat. That's some serious wrong thinking, don't you think?" Ev went on the attack and shredded Wayne's self image as the knight in white armor that saved the downtrodden women in his life.

"What's wrong with you choosing a woman with morals, principles and plenty of love to give?" Ev continued his tirade. "A woman that is equally yoked to you, instead of needing every possible emotion you have to give and then some? Have you ever given that a thought.?"

[Deena in GA]

Excellent! Thanks, Pac!

[sssarawolf]

You tell um Ev.

Gads if people were sneaking around ones property with guns you know what the were going to do and it wasn't to tickle them.

[PacNorWest]

#11

Wayne made a big show of looking around his dimly lit front room and said sarcastically, "I don't see a line up of women waiting to apply, where do you suppose they might be hiding?"

Ev rubbed his face, Wayne just wasn't getting it. "First of all, have you ever had a little filly catch your eye?" he queried.

Wayne shook his head no.

"There are three good places to look for ladies that might interest you," Ev continued to lecture Wayne. Obviously the lack of a sensible father figure to pass on basic information had hindered Wayne's younger years. "The first place is work, any unattached gals that have been trying to catch your eye. Those are the ladies you are going to have the most instant success meeting. They know a little about you, or the gossip grapevine will have them informed in short order." Wayne appeared to be listening.

"Second is church. You are going to find a woman with more of the godly qualities you desire in a religious institution, than say a honky tonk. So using some basic sense when you go looking." Ev kept on while the object seemed receptive.

"Third is a club or gathering of your favorite hobby or interest. If you enjoy guns, look up a gun club; or stamps or cooking. Go invest some of yourself with out expecting to find everlasting love, and chances are, it will find you. Ditto with higher education, I met Cheryl in school and believe me I was no prize. As a matter of fact, I can't imagine anyone that deserved Cheryl's attention less than me."

"All I have time for is work," Wayne seemed some perked up some. "There are a couple of ladies in the county shop, one of them is a mighty fine welder."

"Well, there you go," Ev encouraged. "Invite her out to look at your gates, or to help you work on another project. Strike up a conversation, check her out a little. I've got to tell ya, most ladies don't bite and they enjoy talking to a gent they might be interested in. When are you on shift next?"

Tomorrow," Wayne yawned. "I guess I'd better get some shut eye, 6am will come soon. Hey Ev," Wayne stood up and stuck out his hand. "Thanks man."

"Your welcome, just don't backslide on us, OK?" Ev stared deep into Wayne's face. "You have to fight against the depression as it can drown you when you least expect it. What if none of us are around the next time you hit the skids, what if we can't jolly you out of the blues; it's really time you talk to a doctor about this. We got to have you around bro, you are our 'cover our six man', right?" Ev grinned.

"Always," Wayne finally sounded positive, so Ev shook his hand and went for home.

[moldy]

Ev reminds me of a few country gents I know - rough on the outside, but a real good heart and very intelligent (when they decide to let it show). Thanks, Pac

[PacNorWest]

So true Moldy.

None of the men of the farm are persons you normally give a second glance too. They are tall, lean, scruffy bearded and wild haired. In fact, most people would cross the street to the other side, to give them a wide berth. Behind that facade, there is intelligence, honesty, and a deep Christian attitude. I am trying to show that first impressions are not always accurate, and you can't judge a book by it's cover.

The women of the farm are more standoffish and recognizable by their mode of dress that does not conform to present day fashion, than the men. They are almost fiercely proud of being 'different', up to the point of encouraging the stereotype and hoping to strike fear into the heart's of the weak and gossipy.

As a disclaimer, we all have faults and the Hanson's and friends are no different.

[Vtshooter]

Very nice chapters, thank you.

[PacNorWest]

#11b

Thursday morning was a rare day. The massive high pressure system was stalled in the Pacific, sending clear skies, warming temperatures and a gentle breeze to begin drying the mud. Doors opened, windows went up and wash went out on the line. Blankets, quilts were aired out in the 50 degree weather. Kids were bundled up and sent out to play in the secure yards built for them. The activity was humming in all but the main house, Clora was huddled under the covers wishing she were better.

Cheryl was like a one woman dynamo and Ev fled to the shop. He had mentioned getting the tractor and starting to clean up the burned mess in the barn, but that was promptly squashed when Cheryl fixed a evil eye on him and said, "Don't you dare stir up cinders and ash the only good day we've had in four months."

That ended that particular line of thought; so Ev turned his capabilities toward building a milking shed for Bossie. Using the wall of the horse shed, he used saved boards from another project to extend a wall on the weather side and tack the 1x8's as a sloping roof. The tin came from around behind the shop, put there by Walter years ago. It wasn't perfect, but it was dry and out of the wind. Ev stopped long enough for lunch when Cheryl called from the house.

"Ev, we need a dinner bell or a triangle for calling you guys in from the outskirts. I hate screeching like a banshee, it hurts my disposition and my throat. Why don't you or Wayne make us all a 'cook's bell', we could use it for danger, or just a whole bunch of things," Cheryl set a large bowl of chili and several slabs of homemade rye bread on the table for Ev.

Considering her request as he shoveled in the grub, Ev looked around at what had happened in the house. He was gonna need a map to get in the house tonight. In her cleaning frenzy, Cheryl had moved furniture, scrubbed, washed, polished and waxed until his house was almost turned inside out.

"Looks good," he approved. "just please don't move the toilet, I get up at night half asleep."

"Ev Wilson, for a crack like that I have a good notion not to give you a cinnamon roll," Cheryl paused as she was digging in the pan with a spatula. Ev threw up his hands in surrender and gave her puppy dog eyes, pleading for a gooey goody.

Cheryl relented and cut two of the squares for him, holding the plate just out of reach until Ev mouthed, 'I'm sorry.'"

Ev thought about Cheryl's cleaning spree, coming to the conclusion that Ronnie had cast a dark pall over all of them. It had been months since she had made rolls, and Ev came to understand that the family dynamic had been changed for the worse by the antics of the disturbed child.

Finishing lunch, he kissed the cook and went to fashion a stanchion for Bossie. This time he made the manger deep enough for her hay and a box for her grain. That way they could finish milking, release the stanchion lever and she could back out whenever she was ready.
By the time he got the lane fashioned with pipe panels, it was almost time to milk. Bossie had wandered up from the pasture and was watching the proceedings with interest.

"Watcha think old gal?" Ev stopped long enough to start the generator to run the outside pumps and fill the water troughs for the cow and the horses. It was a pleasure to watch the frisky colts run and buck in the warm sunshine. Bossie was focused on the new shed arrangement and had no interest in the horses.

Ev opened the pasture gate for her, and she eased in to have a important inspection. When it met her exacting standards, she gave her approval by depositing a cow pie. Ev cleaned the mess, and began the process of milking. He had forgotten about the water for udder washing, and decided to think on an easy way to set up a washing station. Bossie started in on the grain, mooing when Ev didn't get right with the program of relieving her tight bag. Brought back to the present, he scrambled to get the milking done.

Ev's house was fragrant with the scent of venison roast with onions, potatoes and carrots. He stopped in the doorway and took a deep sniff. It said welcome home, come in and get ready to eat.


Ben had helped Lainey all day. They worked making a storage room into a nursery for Anne, not in their bedroom but near enough for Lainey's comfort.
The combination of Anne and Teddy in the same room was proving disastrous, the kids talking and playing and making noise when they should have been sleeping. It was OK for Teddy, but add Milo for the day and Anne wasn't getting enough sleep and the whole family was beginning to suffer.

They moved furniture and Lainey cleaned, humming and whistling in the great weather. This was the first time Ben had spent the entire day with his family, and he saw the wisdom of keeping Otis outside. Wisps of dog hair were floating everywhere much to Lainey's disgust, especially when she found a fistful of dust bunnies and hair in Anne's hand, headed for her mouth.

"Otis has to stay outside," Lainey laid down the law. "I can't keep the kids clean." She swept and ran the dust mop until it was time for lunch. When the youngsters were down for a nap, they spent a quiet time talking about the future.

"Cheryl has a great idea," Lainey enthused as she cleared the dishes. "The power company needs to bring our power in underground, so there aren't the interruptions. It seems they will foot some of the bill, but not all; so we need to have an accurate estimate so we know what our portion will be. What are your thoughts?"

"If it's not prohibitive in cost, I don't see why not. I'll ask the guys and you poll the ladies and we'll get the electric back on. I can see with the amount of work there is to keep house, you really need the advantage."

"Thank you sweetie, that means more to me than a pot full of money," Lainey blew a kiss in his general direction. "The diapers are the worst. When they are boiling, I can hardly stand the smell." That made Ben look a little green, and he agreed rapidly.

"Since you were so handy to agree to that request, I have another," Lainey spoke over her shoulder as she started washing dishes. "I really think it is very important for us to have cell phones. Many times now, it has been so imperative I get a hold of you, and we have no way to communicate. Now I realize that the rest of the family isn't the worry wart I am, but please consider it."

Ben wasn't all that surprised at Lainey's request, he had thought about it before but something had always interfered with the time needed to get to town. Now with Wayne, Mark and Will gone during the day on a regular basis, that left Ev and himself to work and provide security. It was going to be tight duty as it were, and phones would help greatly.

"Why don't you talk with Ev, and one of you go to town tomorrow and get us set up. If you don't want to go, Ev has to take Christy in tomorrow morning for her test. Will and Wayne already have one, and I suppose Mark does, but I'm not sure," Lainey proposed. "One of us needs to check on Clora, Mark said she was better this morning when he was off to work, but do you want to go, or let me run up there?"

Ben stood at the sink and said go, it's a change of scenery for a moment.

Lainey was out of the door in a flash and enjoyed the walk up to the main house. After the fresh air, the house was stale and sick smelling. Clora was awake and complaining of a headache, so Lainey made some weak tea and gave her two aspirin. "No more than that," Lainey cautioned Clora. "That's powerful stuff. Do you need anything else? Oh, how about I feed Mark, Milo, Wayne and Will supper?"

Clora managed a "Thank You," and then fell back against the mattress ready to sleep.



Will and Mark went to their respective jobs as usual. It was difficult to work as Mark had one eye on his surroundings to see if the hammer was going to fall. They waited until his lunch break to contact him.

[nancy98]

Thanks Pac.

How's Mr. Pac doing?

[PacNorWest]

N98,

Thanks for asking, Mr. Pac. is about the same. He is resisting physical therapy, doesn't like the resulting hurt but without it, he soon will be bedfast. I cannot handle him when he is confined to bed, he is a 6'2" 350 lb man and I can walk under his outstretched arm. So I 'help' him do the exercises and he complains greatly.
The most difficult part, it is so easy for me to forget how he doesn't remember. I get tired and frustrated and want him to cooperate, and he doesn't remember WHY he should or HOW to cooperate.

He gets very panicy when I leave the room, so we do everything together, and I mean everything. Still, every day is precious as he still recognizes me and I hold on to that small Treasure.

[wab54]

Bless your heart Pac. There are not many people who will stick with family like that. Prayers sent.


WAB

[Sammy55]

I agree, Pac! Bless your heart!

We have a good friend whose husband had Alzheimer's for YEARS! She kept him at home as long as she could. He was a small man, though, and she could somewhat physically handle him. But like you said, they had to do EVERYTHING together...everything. She couldn't leave him alone and had trouble sleeping at night because he would slip out of bed and be gone.

She finally had to place him in a nursing home as she physically couldn't handle him anymore. He needed more care than what she could give him. He was there for about 5 years before he died. And she was there every day except when she absolutely could not be there. She got there about 10-11am, fed him his lunch, talked to him about anything/everything, and stayed with him until he fell asleep around 2-3pm or so. Then she "allowed" herself to leave. She was heartbroken when he died even though he had not known who she or their kids were for the last 6 years or so. Such devotion!! Such love!!

They were both in their 80s when he died last year. She's still going strong but I can see the aging in her and tell myself we should get over to see her again soon.

Pac - (((((hugs!!))))) You have had a rough time but it may get even rougher. You are in my prayers...................

[sssarawolf]

Thank you so much Pac.
My dad and step mom married when I was 5, 1961. In the 1990s. She lasted 9 yrs in a nursing home and the last 6 or 7 she was a kid on the farm again. Dad went to see her every day and always had to introduce himself. He tried caring for her at home but that didn't last long.
Be safe on your travelin back and forth.

[PacNorWest]

#12

Christy sat in class head down, mind focused and teeth gritted in determination. The tests were every bit as difficult as she had been told, wringing out every bit of knowledge she had stored away. By the end of the afternoon she felt drained, but happy that she had tried her best. Overall, the only problems she had were with the math story's. The ones that begin with, there is a train traveling West at 50 miles an hour... So she hoped she had understood enough to figure out the correct answer.

Christy was done an hour sooner than she had told Ev she would be, so she sat outside the school and enjoyed the weather. Slowly, students exited the building and grouped where she was sitting. Christy introduced herself to a couple of the girls and soon they were chatting and laughing.

The girls were interested that she lived at the farm, and asked many curious questions concerning the larger than life stories they had heard about the reclusive group.

"Nah," Christy said trying not to be defensive, "It's a neat place to live. We have animals, new calves and colts, a puppy and lots of young kids and more to come. My Mom homeschools me and I really hope I did well today. I want to become a nurse.

That led to a spirited discussion of what they all wanted to be when they were older. Christy felt the balm of peer acceptance that helped her self image.

When Ev finally showed up, Christy had names and phone numbers of a couple of the girls and a promise to get together soon.
Excited and happy, chattering like a jay bird, Christy jumped up into the truck cab and came nose to nose with a red heeler and her two pups.

"Dad, she looks like Ruby; where did you find her?" Christy extended her hand for the dog to smell, and the cautious sniff apparently satisfied the protective mama.

"From the little penny saver type paper. She was advertised for free, I took one look and missed Ruby so much I had to have her. I hope your mother understands." Ev added ruefully, wondering now if he had done the right thing.

"What's her name?" Christy stroked the red lady on the top of her head, but the dog was cozied up to Ev and had her pups tucked close beside her.

"No name, we get the pleasure of finding a name for her." Ev smiled as he shifted the truck and got a lick on the back of his hand.

Cheryl wasn't thrilled, but one look at Ev's little boy hopeful face, she relented and was rewarded with a huge smooch as he gathered up the heeler and her pups and bedded them in the shop. Christy brought water and a bowl for dog food and they grinned like co-conspirators as the little family settled in.



When Mark hit work that morning he immediately spoke with his boss, mentioning that the FBI wished to talk with him about his father.
It was the truth, and Mark's supervisor nodded and said, "we'll deal with it when it happens."

At the noon break, there were four gentlemen in the lunch room wearing suits and sunglasses and they definitely were not the friendly, chummy type. Mark was whisked out to the waiting Suburban and taken to the FBI building downtown.

[sssarawolf]

Gads poor Mark.

[PacNorWest]

#12b

"Linderman, Linderman....are you any relation to Borg?" David Carsen was still the head agent.

"He supposedly was my father," Mark replied, not wanting to explain further. "I married the tall Hanson girl, you remember the Hanson's and the problems with their father Pete?"

"Unfortunately," came the dry reply. "Lot's of unresolved problems there."

"More than we want, and this latest problem was not of our starting. What's the deal with all this?" Mark asked a bit angrily.

"I should have known the Hanson's would be involved with another international incident, God can't you people live a normal life?" Carsen griped. He circled around and picked up a sheaf of papers from his desk, "your Dad was involved in a shady bit of smuggling and evidently hadn't delivered something important." Carsen tossed his papers back down on the desk.

"Did you find anything when you stopped by your Dad's place?"

"No," Mark answered honestly, "Dad's safe was cleaned out, as was his desk. I don't know any other place he might have put papers or valuables. Have your searches found any safety deposit boxes or such?"

Carsen shot him a look like Mark was treading on thin ice. "Now don't tell me you haven't searched," Mark replied, "There must be something big and important involved, for all this fuss. If I had a clue what you are looking for, it would help."

"No comment about that," was all agent Carsen chose to say. "The men that were killed on your farm were an elite squad used by the Chinese mafia to 'keep track' of certain valuables as they were transferred abound the world. Your father was 'dirty' and involved in smuggling, drug trade, slavery and 'relocation' of wanted individuals that needed to disappear."

Mark shrugged, and sighed. "I'd like to say I could help you with information, but I honestly did not have a clue what Borg was involved in, other than lawyer business. I was pretty busy with school, my tour of duty, and lately recovering from a couple of suspicious accidents. Clora's at home right now recovering from the flu."

Germ-a -phobic David Carsen eased away from Mark, increasing the distance from the potentially infected man. Fussed that the junior agents had allowed a sick man into his presence, the top agent surreptitiously used a large dollop of hand sanitizer.

"Say, what ever happened to the blueprints we found in our Aunt's trunk?" Mark tweaked the snapping turtle's tail. "Is that what you are talking about?"

[Rabbit]

"tweaked the snapping turtle's tail" LOL Pac, love it.

[juco]

"our Aunt's trunk"

Seems Mark has fully integrated into the clan. Good for him!

[sssarawolf]

very good, and I am still wondering about those chips they are still carrying in their bodies.

[PacNorWest]

#13

That question stopped head Agent Carsen in his mid step pacing, and started his instant aging on a fast track. Clearing his throat, he rubbed his eye, stalling for a good answer. The alcohol based sanitizer on the edge of his fingernail had not all evaporated, and David Carsen rubbed a fair sized gob into his right eye.

Mark watched as the man hopped around sputtering and cursing, rubbing his eye further to ease the stinging bite. To his credit, Mark didn't laugh; but it was darn hard not to. Relying on his military training that kept the rank and file from bursting out in laughter when a superior made a fool of themselves, Mark focused intently on the small paperweight on the agent's desk.

Carsen hit the panic button and agents flooded the room with guns drawn. Mark sat easy in the chair, listening to the confusion and waiting patiently for an answer to his question. "Fellas," he finally shouted, "how about the details to the cold fusion plans we turned over to the FBI?"

Dead silence lay like a fire blanket instantly.

Carsen snapped several orders in a low tone and then turned to Mark. "Who told you what those plans were for?" he nearly yelled at Mark.

"You confirmed that to Ben," Mark informed him quietly, "we do talk to one another, you know. Do all the attacks on our person have to do with the fact that the underground still thinks we have the plans. Or how about, maybe this agency has fostered that notion, trying to flush out bigger fish? Are you throwing us under the bus for a chance to pick up some major players?"

The almost guilty look on Carsen's face was proof enough that Mark was on the right track.

[kmtngoat]

"You confirmed that to Ben," Mark informed him quietly, "we do talk to one another, you know. Do all the attacks on our person have to do with the fact that the underground still thinks we have the plans. Or how about, maybe this agency has fostered that notion, trying to flush out bigger fish? Are you throwing us under the bus for a chance to pick up some major players?"

The almost guilty look on Carsen's face was proof enough that Mark was on the right track.

Wow this story has more turns than favorite fishing creek.

[PacNorWest]

#14

Someone, Mark thought to himself, should help Carsen perfect his poker face. Either that, or he is so full of himself he doesn't believe mere mortals could think beyond beer and pizza.

Mark might have only been a distant relative to Borg, but he had grown up listening to the lawyer's sharp staccato brand of questioning and thinking. Generally easy going and affable, Mark had a mind and capabilities of any Mensa member in his former group. Borg had been relentless in his push to keep Mark at the top of his mental ability. "Your mind is a muscle, exercise it," he would thunder.

Mark watched the hustle and bluster happening in the office and finally settled on a thin pinch faced man as the official with the real clout. Letting his mind and eyes wander over the balding, bespectacled man, he was drawn to the man's hand and the small bumps displayed on the back.

Mark scratched his chin, pondering on the significance of the bumps. The man felt Mark's eyes on him, and glanced up to catch the tall blond man watching him with a measured stare. The icy, pale blue watery eyes held no humor or recognition and Mark looked deep into the empty nothingness behind them. That man has no soul, Mark's first thought was more accurate than he knew.

When the initial fuss died down and Mark was once again left with Carsen, he went on the offensive. "Who was that little man that looked like a rat?" he questioned sharply.

Carsen winced like he had been hit, and that told Mark they were being observed, probably by Mr. Rat himself.

"Carsen, I think you need to level with me, why does that man have some of those monitoring chips in the back of his hand? The same chips that we found in the Hansen's and friends, the chips that cause certain types of behavior?"

The bewildered and slowly revealing comprehension dawning on Carsen's face spoke volumes to the calculating mind of the man married into the Hanson clan.

"Oh my God," Carsen got up and made a dash for the door. There was the sounds of a mighty scuffle in the hall, one gunshot and a loud volume of shouts and yells.

"Linderman, we need to talk with your family members," Carsen snapped out orders as he barged back into the room. "Let's go, NOW!"

The motorcade of Suburbans played follow the leader out of the underground garage and merged smoothly into late afternoon traffic, the homebound commuters yielding to the red and blue flashing lights rushing at above the speed limits.

Out in the country, the lead car picked up even more speed and using it's siren when the old pickups and rattletrap cars seemed disinclined to yield the road. At the farm gates, three agents got out. One opened the gate while the other two covered him with guns held at the ready.

Mark got out and whistled twice, the piercing blasts alerting the farm.

"What the hell was that for," Carsen said irritably, as he unfolded from the car. "What did you do?"

"Gentlemen, you are on our property and you are under guns. We welcome you as long as you are reasonable and don't push your weight around. Would you like to talk with us individually or together. If together, we need to meet in the main house as it's the only place large enough for us all." Mark offered his hospitality.

Carsen looked around at the darkened houses. "Where are your lights?" he said conversationally.

"Snipers keep shooting the transformers," Mark replied. "Borg was the last one and he died here." It was a thinly veiled threat, and was received as such. "Have you decided, we could stand out here all night if you wish or we can go inside."

"All together, I suppose." David Carsen cast his eyes around and noticed the huge burned barn in all it's charred glory. "What happened there?"

"A raid by the have- nots," Mark said as he prepared to whistle once again. "But then, I suspicion that you already knew that."

Carsen simply nodded, "gather your troops," he indicated the expanse of the farm, "let's get this over with."

Mark gave one long blast, causing the agent to shake his head to alleviate the sound. "don't you people ever just talk to each other?" he demanded.

Doors opened and the members of the clan came forward with weapons in hand but at rest. The three agents stood with feet apart and arms crossed and sunglasses pushed back on their heads. They looked intimidating, solid and imposing as they stood to the side of Agent Carsen.

Mark said "follow me," and walked up the stairs to the main house. He opened the door and started to enter when there was a shout and Milo ran to be with his Uncle Mark. Mark waited and scooped up the boy, carrying him in the house like a log under his arm. Milo was giggling and shouting with laughter.

Setting the child down, he used his small pen light to find the oil lamps and light them, placing them on the dining room table. Ben and his family were the first to come in, using the back door as he stood to the side and let Lainey sit with the children. Then Ev, Cheryl and Christy. Wayne and Will came in from the dark and stood near Ben.

Mark went down the hall to their bedroom to find Clora awake and struggling to load Evie's old shotgun. "Hey sweetie, we have an important meeting getting ready to happen. Can you come to the dining room?"

"With help," Clora mumbled, as she tried to swing her feet over the bed.

[Vtshooter]

Thank you for the new chapter Pac.

[sssarawolf]

OHHHHHHHHH need more lol, need to know whats going on to lol.

[Scar]

Thanks!

[PacNorWest]

#15

Mark helped Clora into her bathrobe and slippers, and then almost lost her when she bent over to rummage through her skirt.

"Clora,...honey, what are you doing?" Mark caught himself on the bedpost, to keep from falling over.

"I need my gun, who knows when I may need to shoot somebody," Clora said in a whisper, like it was a big secret.

Mark had to let go of her arm to smother a huge yell of laughter that tried to burst from him. "Clora, Clora, dearest heart; no shooting please. That would get us in a whole lot of trouble." he said chuckling.

"OK, no shooting, unless they need it," she amended. With her ratty old blue chenille bathrobe and years old once fuzzy slippers; Clora did not look dangerous unless you noticed her fever bright eyes and rouge red cheeks. With her long hair down, she didn't look like herself.

Mark helped her into the dining room, where people parted like Moses had once again struck the water. Nobody wanted to sit close to Clora and be infected with the flu. Mark sat her at one end of the table, and gently wrapped her in the spare quilt.

"Family," Mark's deep voice called the meeting to order, "this is Agent Carsen from the FBI, he is going to explain to us why he has an agent working for him that has the same bumps under his skin as some of us. The stage is all yours Mr. Carsen," he yielded the agent.

David Carsen felt a rush of acid reflux; he definitely didn't want to be put on the spot right off the bat, but it was happening so he would deal with it.

"Mr. Linderman was privy to our capture of an infiltrator. Our agency has had a mole, a traitor if you wish, a turncoat that was passing plans that were classified. Unfortunately, we had no knowledge of who that person was until we were alerted by Mr. Linderman. Mr Linderman also accurately guessed or came to a correct conclusion that the Chinese Mafia were under the impression that the plans you gave us, were still in your hands." Carsen fumbled around in his back pocket for his handkerchief to mop his slightly sweaty brow.

In the background Ben and Will stared hard at each other. Lips thinned with the effort of holding their peace, they locked eyes with Mark and he raised his eyebrow slightly. There was more.

Clora felt Milo come crawling along the floor and come up behind her chair. Little fingers started playing with her hair, petting the chestnut locks like he would a puppy. Pretty quick he was up under her arm, wiggling his nose up from under the patchwork quilt.

Clora held her finger to her lips, shushing the questions she could see forming in his mind. "Later," she whispered. Milo nodded, just happy to be close to his Auntie Clora. Mark noticed Milo and bent down to pick up the youngster and Milo opened his mouth to protest.

Clora had to shake her finger at them both.

Agent Carsen resumed his narrative/confession by asking if any of them had the 'bumps' Mark had spoke about. Ben stepped forward and went to stand by Clora...well somewhat close, as Lainey kept motioning him to ease further away.

"Clora and I have reason to believe we have deeply embedded chips, as opposed to those that were just under the skin on our hands." Ben spoke in a frustrated manner. "There maybe the chance that Mark has one, he had the same charge affect him when Clora and I were zapped in some way. We all might have one or more of the chips, we don't know. Tell me," Ben directly challenged the agent, "who are these blasted chips from and why do we have them, and how do those loonies that claim they are some splinter group from some unheard of Russian country figure into this."

There were nods from all around the table, Ev spoke up and said, "Yeah, let's have a believable explanation."

"I take it Stannous has been here with some of his cronies," Carsen said with a pained look.

"Yes," Mark said with heat,"and he had some mumbo jumbo about Clora being a princess and me being some cousin of hers and Borg not being my father. We sure would like to have the truth."

Agent Carsen looked more frustrated than ever. "First things first," he stalled. "The chips, I am guessing they are from the people trying to keep track of the people they suppose have the plans."

Ben interrupted with real anger, "Well who are they, who are we dealing with?"

"I don't know," Carsen finally said honestly." It's a shadowy mix of Chinese, North Koreans, throw in a few Japanese and the Cambodians that want the diamonds back, As a matter of fact, most of them want the diamonds as much as the plans."

"Most of the diamonds are gone," Ben spoke for them all; "turned into money to buy this place and keep it going. What is so special about the stones, they are good grade, but nothing special." Everybody nodded again, even Clora. The whole family had taken their stones in for appraisal and sale, and the grades and value were remarkably consistent.

" I take it you didn't find the stone called the 'Eye of Buddha' " Carsen said aloud. "The Cambodians want it returned to their country, The Chinese want it destroyed to discredit the religious connection, the North Koreans are desperate for the ransom it will bring and that splinter group of crazies want bargaining power to bring their demands to the forefront."

"Well, that's a mouthful," Will said sourly. "So we actually know nothing, and how about your agency? When are you going to put the word out we don't have the plans?"

"Soon," the agent stalled, not willing to tip his hand until he had time to interrogate the rogue agent. "I need to find out the connection between the man we apprehended in the office today and how he is connected with you and others. I regret I have no further information to share with you, but I will be in touch as soon as we have any concrete evidence."

Carsen excused himself and was halfway back to the office before he realized that none of the family admitted that all the diamonds were gone. He had neatly boxed himself out of finding out more information.

[bad_karma00]

Should have let Clora shoot him. They've got a backhoe, right?


Pac, there's more twists in this story than on the dumpy little backwoods country road I live on. I love it!

Seriously try to get this published. There's at least a TV series in this, if not a movie.


Bad

[kua]

Oh Lady, you write such a believable story. Life is just like this. Unfolding one clue after another. You deserve a huge hug for this story and the pleasure it gives each of us as the different segments are solved but always leaving us wishing to know more of the story to see how they get out of the next conundrum.

[sssarawolf]

So they kept the family as bait, grr. Thanks pac.

[Deena in GA]

Awesome chapters! You just keep us guessing, Pac!

[PacNorWest]

#16

The clan members sat in silence, absorbing the information Agent Carsen had thrown at them and then made good on his escape.

"That guy reminds me of Snidely Whiplash," Clora said into the silence. "Why do I hear the toot, toot of the approaching train and then discover we are tied to the tracks."

The analogy was so apt that it broke the ice and the resulting laughter was genuine amusement and at the same time rueful for the honesty.

Lainey broke into the silence as the chuckling stopped. "Clora, have you ever looked at the remaining money stacks to see what is actually in there. Are they bills of money or diamond receptacles?"

"I've never looked," Clora said with a thick and fuzzy tongue. "Every time we get them out, something always happens that interrupts the session. I don't play with them, sorry guys. I can't get them right now, I don't feel very well." Clora looked beseechingly at Mark, "I really need to go back to bed."

"You know something, I think someone besides Clora should know where the stash is hidden," Lainey said into the quiet as they watched Mark assist Clora out of the room. "Does anyone here know where her hiding spot is?"

No one did, and Mark denied knowing when he came back into the room. "I suppose it would be better if there was another person," he agreed. "Who do you want to ask Clora. How about you, Ben? Maybe it would be better if the original kids were the ones that know."

It was alright with all involved, and Ben said as soon as Clora was on her feet, he'd have a talk with her.

"What I wanna know," Milo demanded as the group got ready to leave, "when's the train gonna get here. Can we play with it?"

[kua]

Leave it to a little boy!

[PacNorWest]

#16b

At their respective houses, the clan cussed and discussed the current state of affairs. Ev and Cheryl ate a hasty warmed up soup and hot cheese and meat sandwiches, Christy opened a couple of jars of canned apples and they felt the blessing of a roof, heat and food.

Lainey and Ben had beef-a-roni type of casserole that was popular with Teddy and Ben. Once again Lainey thanked her lucky stars that Ben wasn't a fussy eater. As long as their was quantity, it didn't have to be steak. They were giving Anne small tastes of the various foods, and she approved of green beans and the rich tomato sauce, banging a spoon on the table.

Mark, Milo Will and Wayne stood in the kitchen looking helpless, until Mark remembered Clora had stew and chili canned in the pantry. In short order, chili was heating on the stove. The night suddenly was looking up, as there was applesauce and green beans. The boys were happy, Mark discovered a sack of cookies and there was milk from the previous day in the cooler. Will muscled in and made coffee, and it wasn't like Clora's strong brew.

Sitting around the table, they discussed the ramifications of Carsen's information.

"OK, in lawman speak, what didn't he say we should be worried about?" Wayne asked as another cookie disappeared. Milo stood up on the chair and reached for two, by golly he wanted his share before they were all gone.

Everyone looked at Will for his take on the whole shebang. "I'm guessing he knows exactly who is involved in wanting the diamonds; the FBI doesn't go around not understanding precisely who the players are, why they are involved and what the likely outcome will be," Will slouched easy in the chair.

"The goof balls that are supposed to be the separatist rebels, I'm guessing are a minor annoyance;" Will took a cautious drink of the boiling hot coffee in his mug. "They are there, and have to be factored in. Personally, I think we still need to be careful with them and their demands."

Wayne broke in with a question that had been forming in the back of his mind. "Will, when you took Brett's body in, who claimed it? I went to check and it's gone, I was going to have a burial, but it had already been claimed. Now Mark, you got Borg's body, correct?" the lanky brother that had been battling depression looked energized as he peppered the gathering with questions.

"Yes," Mark acknowledged, "and the authorities had done an autopsy, and probably a toxicology. I have to admit that surprised me, I guess I just wasn't expecting it." he fiddled with a cookie, breaking it in half.

"Now Will, have you heard if anything was found when they went through Borg's house?" Mark asked, glancing up at the lawman.

"Suspiciously slicked up clean." Will announced. "The funny thing, in the short will he made, he left everything to you and made no mention whatsoever of Brett. Just as an aside, how could he be sure Brett would die before or with him? Maybe just a shade too neatly tidied up?"

[223shootersc]

thanks for the great story, need moar as usual

[PacNorWest]

#16c

"Humph," Mark puzzled with an exhalation of breath, "Borg's place was always slicked up clean, we were never allowed to create any kind of mess. But, and this is a very big but, Borg always had large amounts of cash on hand. From what Carsen said, a lot of that money was used in bad ways, but ever since I can remember it was always there. Are you sure there wasn't a stash of cash?" he asked pressing the point.

"The official report say's not, how much do you think he might have had on hand?" Will was making notes in his small notebook.

"Probably in excess of a couple of hundred thousand," Mark said casually, "he often times did charity donations anonymously. Must have had to do that for a guilty mind. The group of vets that Davis McCann belonged too, Borg funded almost 100% of it. He just didn't say anything. All of the men that were in that particular squad in 'Nam, were cared for with his money. It was almost an obsession with him." Mark concluded with a shake of his head.

Will studied Mark as the younger man recounted the types of works Borg had funded. There was no emotion from Mark, it was if he were talking about a stranger. Basically he was. The man that had run Mark's well organized life, taught him the value of cold logical thinking and forced him to excel in mind ability hadn't been a father. They had never played catch, gone fishing or rarely eaten a meal together; so Mark wasn't missing a father.

"I'll tell the Captain that Borg normally kept a large amount of money in the house. When you went in, did it look like anyone had been in there before you? A 'guest', a housekeeper perhaps? Will continued with his questioning.

"If you are asking if Borg ever had lady friends at the house? No, none that I ever saw. Of course we had a housekeeper, and a cook, gardener and a chauffeur. I thought the house had been put under guard as soon as your Captain discovered who Borg was?" Mark was thinking out loud.

"What's a choup fur" Milo asked as he was nodding asleep, it was funny to the adults, but only Mark responded. "A guy who drives cars," Mark said as he picked up the half asleep child. "I'll be back in a little bit."

Wayne spoke up when Mark left the room. "He shore didn't have much of an upbringing, did he?"

"On the contrary," Will said slowly. "He had all the advantages money could buy and then some. He speaks several languages, has the knowledge to play the stock market, and has a mind like a steel trap. I admit I was surprised when I ran a check on him, even more surprised that he married Clora and is content here. He was being groomed for foreign diplomatic service, squeaky clean and with an unblemished record until..."

"Until he got crazy and enlisted, right?" Mark finished for him as he walked into the kitchen. "He also has friends that notified him that he was being investigated." he said curtly. "Even if it was the Sheriff's department."

Will shrugged, he was beyond caring at this point. There were no answers that ever were simple, and with this family usually no answers at all.

[sssarawolf]

Wonderful chapters Pac, oh please let Clora get well.