Frank Klus - Azaleas Don't Bloom Here

“I know this may sound a bit reckless,” Cassandra said, “but maybe we should let the Hogs know where we are. We could ambush them. I’ve got three more clips—more than thirty rounds, and I know you got at least two more clips.”

“No, Cass,” Ray said.

“Ray, we’ve been in worse jams before. Remember, I took out three Squad members in a matter of seconds.”

“You really want to hang that one on your resume, Cass?”

“You’re never going to let me off the hook on that one, are you?”

“Sorry, Cass. I said we’d forget it and that’s that. But what you’re forgetting is that those guys were regulars. These guys are Blues. They aren’t going to walk into a trap, and they’re not going to be ambushed. If we had Armstrong, or a couple of his men, like Wrenn or Foote, then maybe it’d work, but it’s way too risky. What we have to do is wait for information. Ev hasn’t returned my last call either. In the meantime, we should be safe. We’ll just hold out here, and then figure out what to do.”

All four were satisfied, but it was an uneasy satisfaction. Eugene got up to turn on the television. “The news comes on at five. Anyone mind if I turn it on?” No one objected.

“Our top story tonight is the bizarre situation surrounding the Tough Love Camp run by Horace Hayfield. A young boy treated for aggressive behavior tells a shocking story of torture at that camp. Kayla Tucker has the story.”

“Tonya, we’re at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Gregory Savena in Mayfield, Ohio, whose son, Jeffrey, went to the Tough Love Camp, and has made some rather bizarre statements. Mr. Savena, can you tell us what your son said?”

“Well, Kayla, first he kept complaining of bad dreams. He’d wake up screaming, and then he told us he was tortured with a pen that had wires hanging out of it.”

“And do you believe this had something to do with the tough love camp?”

“My boy said the camp gave him bad headaches.”

“Like migraines?”

“Worse,” Mrs. Savena said. “It was really bad. He’d wake up saying, ‘mommy it hurts.’ And then he’d start crying.’”

“Did he seem fine before he went to the camp?”

“Yes,” Mr. Savena said. “He never complained of headaches before.”

“What would you like to see happen?”

“We want that camp shut down.”

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Savena.”

“Kayla, this is Tonya Cummings. Can the family provide any other details about what was going on in the camp?”

“Tonya, the children say they can’t remember much of anything at the camp. At this time the children only complained of bad dreams they were having, but all report terrible headaches caused by the use of some object being reported as pens, sticks, fingers, and pokers.”

“Thank you for that report, Kayla.”

“That son of a bitch!” Eugene yelled. “I remembered that commercial that guy was running. I remembered it seemed exactly like what was happening to me in that torture chamber I was in. My God, they’re doing this to kids.”

“And they’re remembering,” Ray said.

“This could be bad news for us,” Cassandra said.

“I don’t understand,” Pamela said.

“If their attempt to manipulate how people think and act becomes a colossal failure,” Ray said, “in the sense that it comes out they’re torturing people, and then trying to erase peoples’ memory of it… well… it could spur widespread rebellion. The people who started this, probably NSA or CIA, are going to do everything they can to cover this up. Because Eugene experienced the camp, they may fear he could leak out details of his experience. Our lives are in danger.”

Just then, Pamela’s phone rang. She looked for the caller. “It’s Moore,” she said, in excitement toward the others. “Hello, Senator Moore.”

“Thank you for answering, Pamela,” a strange voice said. “Stay right there and someone will be there to help you.” Pamela quickly hung up.

“What is it?” Eugene said.

“They have Moore.” She repeated the message. “Could they find us?”

“It’s possible,” Ray said, “but it may also be a trap to flush us out.”

“We gotta move,” Pamela said.

“I agree,” both Ray and Cassandra said.

Casimir’s phone rang. “Casimir, things are spinning out of control,” Alberto Martinez said. “That Hayseed or Haystack, whatever the fuck his name is, just exposed our machine to the general public. Jesus Christ, who the hell sold him that thing?”

“The Institute,” Casimir said. “I didn’t know about it either until I saw his infomercial. I found out he bought the machine and the training to use it for a million dollars.”

“It cost over a billion dollars to develop it, and this asshole buys it for a thousandth of that amount?”

“Grifton and Schmidt saw an opportunity to make a profit on it, and then leave the country, is my guess. They’re both gone now. I’ve been trying to call them with no answer. I went down there, and the doors were locked. Finally, one of the technicians answered and he told me all that I told you.”

“Christ, what a mess,” Martinez said. “I want you to put an all-Squad on this. Find those two assholes and bring them back. I want them alive. As for our four fugitives—get rid of them permanently; especially Sulke. We have a lead on them. We know they’re in a motel in western Minnesota.”

“How did you find that out?”

“We got Moore’s cell phone with a hot line to Pamela Piper. Once she answers the phone, we get her GPS.”

“Isn’t her phone encrypted?”

“Senator Moore gave us the password. He was very cooperative, and we were very persuasive.”

“Does Piper know she was being tracked?”

“Moore says he never told her about a tracking device inside the phone, but she may be on the move. Look, we have to act fast. You got a pen and paper?”

“Yeah.”

“Here are their coordinates. Let the Hogs know, and let me know when you got them. Then have the Hogs take them out.”

“Captain Miller, you may go in now.”

“John, sit down,” Jaydan Casimir said.

“I’m sorry to report, Jay; still no info on your wife.”

“I know. I called you in because she cleaned out a CD with twenty-five grand in it. I don’t know why she did that, but it’s apparent to me now that she’s put the pieces together. She told me she wasn’t having any more bad dreams, but I think she was lying to me. I think she was remembering, just like those kids. She probably picked up bits and pieces of the truth, connected the dots, and left me.”

“My wife told me that she mentioned she knew about Hell House. She said you told her about it.”

“That would be the last thing I’d mention.”

“Any idea where she might have gone?”

“She may be looking for Fernando.”

“Fer… who?”

“We put him through the brain probe, but he went nuts, killed a guard, knocked out the doctor, and then used the probe on himself until he died from the shock.”

“And you think Sandy knows this guy, and is looking for him?”

“She was married to him before Hell House. She may have figured that out. I don’t know where else she’d go. It’s also possible she went to some motel or hotel until she cools off. Look, John, check the hotels in the area. If you find her, treat her gently. I suppose she has a right to be sore.”

“Where would she go to find Fernando?”

“She may have found his address, or remembered where she used to live. In any event, here’s the address we have on file.” Casimir paused to write it down. “He was also in Joliet for not paying back a loan. She may go there asking a lot of questions. Make sure Hank keeps his mouth shut. If he creates a problem for you, just tell him to call me.”