Frank Klus - Azaleas Don't Bloom Here

There was silence.

“You still there?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Then answer me. What the hell is going on? Talk to me.”

“I’m just trying to help Eugene, sir.”

“By kidnapping him and dragging him against his will to that torture house?”

“By helping him fit into society, sir.”

“He fit in just fine as he was, knucklehead.”

“Sir, I understand how you feel, but I have a job to do—”

“A job to do—oh, you have a job to do. And what would that be? Oh, I know, kidnap my son, torture him—”

“Sir, that was not my intent. We don’t torture—”

“My boy came home emaciated and starving. He had a black eye, split lip, and other cuts and bruises. He told me all about it—”

“I understand how you feel, but I am ordered to bring your son back, and that is just what I’m going to do with or—”

“You bastard! You’ll never get my son. He’s on his way to freedom. I don’t know where he is at, and I don’t expect I’ll ever see him again, thanks to you and your ilk. As for me and my family, I can assure you, Mr. O’Reilly, we are very well-protected. Your brother sent some men to watch our house for us, and the police are watching as well. And by the way, you can pick up the five thugs in the county morgue. Feel free to contact the Du Page County police. They want to talk to you.” With that, Dean hung up.

Dennis pounded his desk and stared. His face appeared contorted and reddened. His breathing deepened until he stood up and went to the boss’s door, knocked three times, entered, and saluted.

Casimir saw the despairing look on his protégé’s face and knew the news was not good. “Just don’t tell me you lost Sulke.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Ray or his men killed five of my men. Eugene is gone.” He filled in his boss with the terrible details from his talk with Dean Sulke, and Casimir just looked downward.

“I have to talk to Martinez. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dennis walked back to his office, dejectedly. He opened his bottom desk drawer and pulled out a black pouch and a whiskey glass. Taking the flask out of the pouch, he poured a glass from the Christmas gift from last year, and drank it down. He started to put it away, but decided to take a second snort. Then he went into the bathroom, and gargled to hide the smell of alcohol.

Faith, called him from just outside his opened door. “Sir, Mr. Casimir has left for the day.”

Sean’s House, Seven o’Clock the Next Morning

Ray was up early making breakfast, expecting Pamela at most any time. He had everything on the table when the doorbell rang.

Pamela was in her late sixties with greyish to white hair, wearing business attire and a pair of specs. Her hair appeared to be of moderate length, but coiled so the length was hard to tell. She was all business.

“Hello, Ray.”

“Hello, Pamela. Come on in. Would you like something to eat? I have bacon, eggs, toast—”

“No, thank you,” she said curtly. “Where is Eugene?”

“I guess I should get him and Cass up.”

“I only need to speak with Eugene.”

She sat down in a chair in the parlor. She sat strait up like a schoolmarm, her head up and facing away from Ray. Ray walked past her and up the stairs to Eugene’s room.

Eugene came down and greeted Pamela while Ray spoke with his wife.

“She’s here,” he said.

“I heard. Is she still pissed?”

Ray cast a sarcastic expression. “Oh, yeah. I think she believes we want to steal her secrets and take over her operation.”

Cassandra was smiling. “She’s used to being paid… and paid a lot.”

Ray wore a stern expression. “She’s being paid… just not in dollars. We’ll provide a valuable service… one she’ll need… and not one she’ll have to pay for.”

They came downstairs and Ray shouted, “Breakfast is ready. Everyone in the kitchen… Pamela included.”

Eugene was wearing jogging pants and a tee shirt, when he escorted Pamela into the kitchen. Pamela still refused food, but agreed to a glass of orange juice.

After they ate, Pamela turned to Eugene. “Excited?”

“A little excited and a lot scared.” Eugene was still smarting from his adventure in Hell House, and he still looked like the loser in a prize fight. His left eye was still purplish, although the swelling was almost gone. Cuts and bruises around his mouth and the left side of his face would take longer to heal. “I’m not sure what Ray told you, but there are a lot of bad guys who are going to be after us, and it’s a long drive to New America.”

“Don’t worry, Eugene, we’ll be fine; and I’ve escorted clients to New America who were wanted by thieves, police, paramilitary, and family members. I’ve never lost one yet.”

“Having Ray and Cassandra along makes me feel better.”

Pamela winced at that, but she forced a smile. “Well, to be honest, I don’t think we need them, but if it makes you feel better, then they’re welcome to come along.”

“We’ll be several miles behind you, Gene,” Ray said. “You won’t see us, but we’ve got a special phone for you and Pamela so we can stay in touch.”

“Special phone?” Eugene said.

“Yeah. It’s encrypted so no one can listen in. We’ll be in constant contact, and we can alert you if anything suspicious is happening.”

“Sounds great,” Gene said. Pamela was reticent.

After everyone finished breakfast, Pamela turned to Eugene. “Let’s step out to the porch and talk about what’s going to happen next, and the prep work we need to do.”

Eugene would be in disguise. Pamela called up her friend, Louisa, a Hollywood makeup artist, and arranged to come to La Motte later that day. She then called another guy she worked with who would create their route. He knew where all the RAC and Squad territories were, as well as neutral territories that were really neutral or friendly to one of the other paramilitary territories.

Finally, she had a friend in the government who spied on NOGOV. He’d be able to find out where all the paramilitary forces were.

The plans were finalized and Eugene was made to look ten years older. Pamela bought an older looking car to more easily blend in with the general population. Ray and Cassandra would stay a mile or so behind, but they would be in phone contact, while Sean and the Fox would watch the Sulke household. At six o’clock the following morning the four would-be escapees would be on their way to the New World.

Dennis stood at attention in front of Jaydan Casimir, who busied himself behind his desk. Without looking up, he told Dennis to sit down. Casimir continued to work at his desk, ignoring him. Then he finished what he was doing, reached into a drawer, and pulled something out. Casimir looked up at Dennis and smiled.

“Everything that has happened so far is not entirely unexpected, Dennis. These soldiers of ours are little more than traffic cops. Eugene is protected by an army of ex-Blues—not just your brother, mind you—but a whole army. A few Squad members are not likely to fair too well against them. Do you read much history, Dennis?”

“History, sir? No, I guess not.”

“Have you heard of Genghis Khan?”

“Uh… yeah, I’ve heard of him.”

“He was the leader of the Mongol Empire in the Thirteenth Century. He was one of the most feared leaders in history. He commanded an army of hundreds of thousands of men. You know how he conquered his enemies?”

“No, sir.”