Crystal Clear (4 page)

He went to the back of the truck where his dog Copper waited patiently gua
rding Jack’s things while he played
in the Casino.  He gave Copper’s golden fur a good pat and thanked him
,
then swung up into the cab of his truck.  Jack revved up the engine, as it started he smiled at the sound of the deep rumble from under the hood. That rumble meant freedom. Ti
me to spend a couple days alone,
just Jack his dog, a fishing pole, and some good beer. His favorite country station kicked on and Johnny Cash sang one of his old western tunes. 

The road twisted and turned as it wove its way uphill.  He eventually came to a small gravel road
which
veered off to the left.  The tiny path
led to
an old logging road
no longer used. 

The trees canopied overhead, and some brushed the top of his truck.  Although he wasn’t the only one to use
the abandoned road, the path had
becom
e
overgrown by infrequent use.  Dusk had long since fallen, and the road was difficult to see.

Jack liked it that way though; it meant that he would be left alone to think.  Only occasionally would the local 4X4 club show up and disrupt the peace.  Jack sped down the road with little thought for safety.  He knew the area better than his own house, a fact that he was proud of.  Everyone knew that Jack spent his time out here when he got tired of civilized life. 

When the nightmares became too intense he used this place as a sanctuary.  He needed somewhere he could unwind.  For a short time after Jack left the service he spent a small amount of time in a monastery studying meditation methods.  Often he felt that was the only thing that kept him sane.

He pulled up to the front of the old cabin and let out a relieved sigh, unloaded the back of his pickup and called Copper to him.  His golden retriever eagerly jumped from the truck and followed him into the cabin.  Jack lit the old kerosene lamp that stood on a table to one side of the room.  The cabin was small, and a bit rickety, but served his purposes.

He threw his pack on the cedar bed and bent over to light a fire.  Fall in the area wasn’t too cold, but there was a nip in the air.  The fire would help to take the edge off.  Copper curled up on the mat in front of the fireplace.  The firelight gleamed off the dog’s fur and created a golden sheen.

“Well old buddy,” Jack look
ed
at his dog after unpacking, “looks like another lonely winter for the both of us.”  He knelt
,
scratched Copper behind the ears and smiled.  Shrugging, Jack rose to begin cooking a late dinner
. He’d sk
ipped eating earlier
and
Jack was hungry.  He glanced over the variety of baked beans fill
ing
his shelf and shook his head. 

“Should’ve remembered to go shopping before coming up here
..
.”  He grabbed his pole and tackle box. “Come on boy, let’s go get dinner.”  It was late, but they should still be able to catch something.

Copper wagged his tail and jumped to his feet to follow Jack down to the river.  The
Deschutes
was dangerous at the best of times.  Jack watched his footing as they neared the water.  His favorite fishing spot wasn’t far from the cabin.  He and Copper found their fishing hole at a small eddy. 

He placed his chair on a log, sat down, and pulled out his pole.  There wouldn’t be long to wait for dinner.  He smiled and licked his lips at the thought of pan fried trout fresh from the river.  He and Copper settled in for the wait.

The sound
s from the small C
essna’s eng
ines drown out most other noise.
Cindy used the time to think.  It seemed as if the Agency had hit a rough spot coming up against Jaguar. 
Montgomery
almost lost her own life and her brother, Chase.  Chase was another matter altogether.  She didn’t quite know what to make of him.  Before the latest assignment, he was carefree, and quite the daredevil, the exact opposite of his sister. 

Cindy sighed as she gazed at the panoramic view of her airspace.  Life would be so much less complicated if she love
d
Chase.

Chase tried, but she didn’t respond to him like she should if they were going to be together.  There
was no spark.  The problem,
she just hadn’t told him yet.  She wasn’t sure how she
would
break the news she just wanted to
be friends.  Once you cross the
barrier, it’s really hard going back.

The lights of the
Bend
airport started to come into view, and she radioed into the tower, “Cessna 469 asking for permission to land.”

“Roger Cessna 469, this is tower 84, you have permission to land.”  Cindy placed both hands on the throttle and prepared to bring in the small plane for landing. 
T
he
sound of the wind rushed
past the doors, and
her adrenaline ro
se as she decreased power to the engines. 

This was why she flew.  The adrenaline high was addictive.  The plane started to drop and her stomach
tilted,
like
it did on
the downdraft on a rollercoaster.  She eased back on the throttle as the tires hit the tarmac
. T
he moment was fleeting, but gave her such a
sense
of ecstasy
,
she almost lived for it.

She taxied down to the parking area for small planes her temporary high leaving her just as quickly as it came. 

Bend
had a small airport.  The majority of the planes here were personal aircraft or crop dusters.  Several had the fire patrol decals on the side.

The town, from what she had read on the internet
would be
just as tiny.  Cindy liked small towns.  She herself came from one in
Germany
called Bad Friedrichshall
,
just outside of
Frankfurt
.  She grew up there until she was ten, and her Dad started moving around a lot.  Recalling what made them move around caused her smile to disappear.

Bend
really was a beautiful place.  She had noticed the wide spread of the city, and the lava landscaping not too far off in the distance.  Cindy taxied her plane to the parking area and placed her craft between two similar ones.  She opened the door and climbed down. 
Cindy g
rabb
ed
her pack, which was considerably lighter t
han when
Montgomery
had packed it, and
headed into the main building. 

The clerk dressed in a suit jacket and tie
,
his hair slicked back in the style many salesmen like to fashion. 

“Can I help you miss?”

“Hello, my name is Alice Huntington.  I believe I have a reservation?”  Cindy greeted the clerk as she approached the rental counter.  She was glad the Agency arranged for everything in advance.  Cindy liked the cover they provided for her.  Alice Huntington was a teacher, and the cover made a good explanation for the gear she needed to carry.  If anyone asked about her laptop, she could always talk about the assignments she needed to plan, or papers she needed to grade. 

Her attention focused back on the clerk.  She found salesmen oily, always pushy.  He
asked
her if she would like to add insurance onto her rental plan for the car.  Cindy didn’t like to be pushed, but she couldn’t do anything that would be too memorable.  Agents weren’t supposed to be remembered, flipping a lock of hair behind her shoulder she waited expectantly.  She didn’t have long to wait.  The clerk typed a few things into his computer and looked up at her grinning.

“We have a lovely compact reserved for you
. W
ill you be the only one accessing the vehicle?  Or are you with company?”  He looked from her to her bag.

“No, I am alone.  A small vehicle will do nicely.” 
Cindy p
ast
ed
a smile on for the clerk, produced identification and filled out all the needed paperwork.

Before long she had the keys to a little Kia in her hand.  She went out into the parking lot and actually grinned as she noticed the red color, her favorite.  Cindy tossed her bag into the passenger seat and started the engine.  She opened the visitor’s guide map the desk clerk had given her and located the resort noting several key tourist areas she would li
ke to see while she was in town. T
oo bad she wouldn’t have the time.

Being from the
New York
office, she didn’t get to visit much of the Northwest,
and she loved the green trees. O
f particular interest was the Lava tube that ran for almost five miles underground.  She shivered thinking about it.  Small confined spaces gave her the creeps, but she liked to challenge herself by facing her own fears.

Only
Montgomery
knew the real reason
she
joined F.I.U.W.  She was eleven years old when her father was terminated by unknown forces.  He
had been
a computer analyst and had run across corrupt data on a server he
repaired
.  When he discovered the program was really a virus designed to steal information from the technological company he worked for
,
small accidents started happening.  She gripped the steering wheel of the small compact
and
rolled to a stop at the intersection with a red light.  Almost unwillingly, her mind went back…

“Cindy hide, run and hide.  And no matter what you see or hear, don’t come out.  That’s important darling, do not come out.  Promise me.”  Cindy nodded her head.

“I promise father.”  Her little voice trembled
as
she looked at her father’s terrified face and real fear
surfaced
for the first time in her life.

“Good, now go.” 
L
oud banging
sounded
on the door of their home.  She glanced at the roughened surface of the door
as it
rattl
ed
under the force of
those
hitting it from the other side. 
H
e turned her around and pushed on her back
with urgency
.

“Go darling, hide.” 

She ran,
and
reached her bedroom as the front door of the house caved in with a loud cracking noise.  Glancing desperately around her room, the only possible hiding spot for her was under the bed.  She fell to her knees and bit back a cry as she scrapped the skin on the floor. 

Cindy
crawled under the bed and brought the comforter down to hide her better.  She trembl
ed,
afraid for her father.  The voices of the men in the hall were deep and loud.  Cindy heard several big crashes and things being broken.  She huddled
,
pressed
against the wall far underneath her bed.  The floor was cold and
dark
ness had settled
.

“No!  I don’t have anything!  I don’t know anything!  Just leave
me
alone!”  Her father grunted as he was slammed against something.  Cindy could feel the tears streaming down her face, but she was afraid to dash them away in case the bad men heard her move.  She saw a large polished black shoe appear by the side of the bed and she bit down on her lip to stop the chattering of her teeth. 

A rough voice spoke.
“Well then, you won’t be needed any longer.”

A
soft pop
went off
, and
she
saw her father hit the floor.  His head turned toward
her;
she moved to go to him.  As she started to pull herself across the wood her father gave a small negative shake of his head.  He tried to push up
with
his arm straining under the effort, and another pop
went off
. 

Her father fell to the floor, his eyes lifeless. 

Cindy’s little heart broke into a thousand pieces and she felt the world get torn away. 
H
er father was no longer there.  She held her breath as she waited for the man
who spoke to exit the room.  T
he sound of the shoes hitting the hard wood floors as they walked away
were
loud to her tiny ears. 

It seemed like hours before someone came, hours alone in the dark and cold.  A man named
Jackson
found her huddled under the bed staring at her father’s lifeless form.
He was from the Agency, which she later learned her father worked for.

Goosebumps form
ed
on her skin and she shiver
ed
uncontrollably. Her skin
bro
k
e
out in a cold sweat.