David Golemon - Ripper

“The explosive used in the destruction of Perdition’s Gate was an exotic mixture. Octanitrocubane is made here in the States and a few countries in Europe, mostly NATO members. We can assume someone wanted the hacienda reduced to dust. That, coupled with the fact that this savior of yours and the colonel in Mexico destroyed the body of Guzman, coincides with someone not wanting some detail of Perdition’s secrets out in the open.”

“Do Pete and Europa have any leads as to who these gentlemen were that have so graciously covered up someone’s mess?” Everett asked as the new head of security. He looked at his watch, knowing that Jack was due to sign out of the Group in fifteen minutes.

“None, but I’m willing to bet that someone over at Langley may have some answers for us. This smells like their work. I’ve talked to the president and he’s looking into it.”

“How is he taking Jack’s resignation?” Virginia asked what she and Everett both were curious about, at least hoping the president wouldn’t accept the request for retirement.

“He’s not speaking to me on any matters not related to this fiasco in Mexico, with the exception of the colonel. I think he will order Jack back to the Group, but that will be the colonel’s call. One he has to make on his own.” Niles tossed Pete’s report on his desktop and then looked up at his two people. “Virginia, how are we handling this sample we removed from Mexico?”

“As of right now, we are treating it as we would a viral compound. Until our cleared Event Group members of the CDC arrive to classify it, that’s all we’re working with.”

“Good. I don’t want anyone near it until we can get some recommendations. I also want that crap out of the complex as soon as that assessment is made. Do we have anything yet on the 1916 raid into Mexico?”

“Pete is putting together a package of everything Europa can dig up on this Professor Ambrose. I just cannot believe that a man with his credentials could come up with a compound such as this in the 1890s. It’s impossible, especially for what he was a professor of. At least we have the good professor Ambrose’s journals that our famous general Patton recovered from the hacienda.”

Everett looked from Niles to Virginia, who just shrugged her shoulders as she didn’t know what Compton was talking about either. “Just what was he a professor of?” Everett finally asked.

“Believe it or not, this Ambrose character was only a botanist. No chemistry experience, no genetics, just a botanist — a brilliant one to be sure, but still just a botanist.”

A U.S. Army sergeant stepped into Jack’s room, took the suitcases, and left for the loading-dock area of the complex. He was followed by Sarah and Collins. As they passed people in the hallway many of them stopped to shake Jack’s hand, and he graciously spent a minute with each as they slowly made their way up to level five. As the elevator doors opened, both Jack and Sarah were shocked at what was waiting on the massive concrete loading dock.

“Damn it,” Jack said beneath his breath as over a hundred of the off-duty Event Group staff were there to send him off. The rumor of his resignation had spread like wildfire from the moment he had left the vault area that morning.

As the hundred men and women broke out in applause, Jack waved them off. Sarah placed her arm through Jack’s as they stepped onto the dock. The first to greet him was a man with wild white hair and small round glasses. Charles Hindershot Ellenshaw III stood before Collins with his white lab coat buttoned askew and his eyes wet.

“Colonel, on behalf of everyone at this complex, I want to say thank you. I … I…”

Jack took Charlie’s hand and shook it. “No Doc, thank you,” he said as he looked up at the faces trying to get a glimpse of him as he left. “Thank all of you.” He looked down at the professor and head of the Cryptozoology Department and smiled. “Thank you for giving me back my humanity in the last six years. Everyone here reminded me of what my job was truly all about.” He again looked at those around him. “You made me care about whom and why I do what I do. And now I leave that to others. Goodbye.”

Ellenshaw released Jack’s hand and without another word turned and burst past both he and Sarah, removing his glasses and swiping at his eyes as he did. Collins took a deep breath and then looked at Sarah. He gestured toward the lone transport car at the edge of the loading dock. With a few more handshakes he finally got a chance and whispered into Sarah’s ear that he loved her. Then as he was about to step into the plastic-reinforced magnetically controlled car, Sarah pulled on his sleeve and nodded to the right of the loading dock where the Security Department kept a small kiosk for inspecting incoming shipments. Will Mendenhall watched from the glass enclosure.

“I’ll be damned,” Jack once again said. Collins stood as straight as he could and then raised his hand.

Will Mendenhall stepped from the security kiosk, and then just when Collins thought he wasn’t going to respond to his goodbye, Will saluted him.

Jack nodded his head, and then looking directly at the best man he had ever trained, a man who had risen from staff sergeant to second lieutenant through sheer talent and ability, he returned the salute. Will snapped his head down, half smiled, and then turned away from the departing soldier who had replaced a father Will had never known. Jack watched the black man move away and knew he was leaving the best people he had ever known.

“Well,” he said as he finally looked down at Sarah.

“Yes, Mr. Collins?”

“Until tomorrow night then?”

“I’ll be there, and I’m going to tell your mother you did this,” she swam her hand around her blackened eyes, “to me.”

Collins smiled and kissed the top of her head. He then stepped into the small transport that would carry him the seven-point-seven miles to gate number two at the Gold City Pawn Shop in Las Vegas.

“After meeting you, she just may agree that you needed that beating Lieutenant McIntire.”

“Goodbye, Jack,” Sarah said as she turned and walked away.

Collins watched everyone start to file back into the complex. And for a fleeting moment he saw the diminutive shape of the woman he loved disappear among the many military, science, academia, and other professions that made up the personnel of the Event Group.

“Europa, gate number two, please.”

“Yes, Colonel Collins, gate number two.”

“Hey!” came a shout that made Collins tell Europa to hold the magnetic-driven car. He looked over and saw the blue jumpsuit and then Everett stepped clear of some large crates on the loading dock.

Jack slid the plastic door up and into the frame of the bullet-shaped car. He stood and waited for Carl to reach him.

“Thought you would get out without having to face me?” he asked as he held out his hand to Collins.

“Something like that,” Jack answered as the two men shook hands.

“It’s been a hell of a ride, Jack.”

“That it has Carl. A ride I wouldn’t have missed for the world.”

Everett took a step back and literally examined the battered frame of his friend. He knew Collins was at his limit. Most men hit that mark after it’s too late, and they end up getting a lot of people killed. Jack had lost people, a lot of them, but had yet to get anyone killed out of negligence to duty. No, Everett thought, Jack was leaving on his own terms and he for one would not ever mention the why’s of his leaving. Instead, Everett just raised his right hand and, like Mendenhall a minute before, saluted.

Collins returned the gesture and then shook his head.

“Any advice, besides run as fast as I can out of here?” Carl asked with a smile as Collins sat back down with his hand poised over the glass-enclosed door.