MacArthur's Freehold
Enak Nomolos
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Title - Part I
Chapter   1
Chapter   2
Chapter   3
Chapter   4
Chapter   5
Chapter   6
Chapter   7
Chapter   8
Chapter   9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Title - Part II
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Title - Part III
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79


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Chapter 22 -- NMGLMXMYKMWQOLNVB

They did not have long to wait. Within a few weeks all the preparations were made and practice runs completed, and message codes arranged. All that remained was, as Tommy said, pulling the trigger.

Carter had delivered the news to Kucinick, and set the date. Now it was time to head back to Pittsburgh to wait. He and Tommy said goodbye and headed back. A few hours later they were there, where Jessica had already reserved motel rooms and was waiting. They drove out to Henderson's place for a brief visit. He had two employees who would shadow them on their drive to Chillicothe, and they were ready.

Henderson was a bit of an enigma, Carter found. He seemed to be one of the people who seemed to choose to keep a wall between himself and the world, a wall not immediately apparent but it would stop you if you pushed too hard. Carter suspected that the source of his wealth might be legal or not, or both - that he was a man who could make his own rules, and did. Gordon had been confident he was trustworthy as long as one dealt straight with him.

Back in Pittsburgh they had dinner and settled in to wait. They were in three different motels, of the ubiquitous chains that populate stops along the highways. But beginning in the morning they would gather in the small suite where Jessica was staying. Carter left a small suitcase in his room and went to join Jessica. Sleep came even later tonight, as they were charged with excitement edged with slight apprehension. In discussing the significance of what they were doing, Gordon had called it a 'shot across the bow'. But for now, the enemy would have no idea where it came from.

When they awoke, there was no time for the usual morning lovemaking, and the mood wasn't there. They went down to breakfast in the hotel restaurant, where Tommy joined them. Afterward he and Carter took their luggage to Jessica's suite, which was reserved for an additional night.

Early in the afternoon Carter called Kucinick on a burner phone they had given him. He seemed calm and said he was ready.

"OK," Carter told him. "Bring a change of clothes, just one - jeans, casual shirt, something like that. And your toothbrush, razor, whatever. We'll get you outfitted later, everything you need."

The final call was at six, and Carter told him to call when he was at the park, and again when he was in the car.

Leroy Thompson drove his eleven-year-old Lincoln Continental to a parking lot near where Kucinick lived. His accomplice, who was also his cousin who was just two months older, was approaching the park in an old pickup truck, painted with looked like primer, only darker than usual. There was no license plate. Kucinick had been given a description, and walked over to the truck as it came to a stop, and got in.

"We're about five minutes from switching vehicles," the driver told him. "I'm Mark, welcome aboard."

By the time Kucinick had called Carter to confirm the pickup, they Mark was parking the truck. They got out and walked to the other side of the lot, got in the Lincoln with Leroy, and were on their way.

"That old truck is not traceable to us," Mark told him. "We got it into town for the few minutes we needed it, and now it'll eventually be towed away. No connection."

Kucinick made his call and confirmed they were on their way.

"Excellent," said Jessica, relief evident in her voice. The possibility that Kucinick might back out, or something might delay him, was now past. From here on, everything was under their control.

"Let's see where Jerry is," she said, pressing a button on one of the phones.

"The chair is against the wall," she said when he answered.

"Roger," Yarbrough said. "Just turned on the burner, eggs will be ready in about ten."

"OK," Jessica said. "He's got their starting time, he'll be taking off shortly, landing just in time for the pickup. Which should be shortly. The next call from Kucinick should come when the arrive at the airfield, in about an hour."

The three of them watched television for a while as they waited. A stock picture of a handgun appeared in the upper part of the screen, by the news person's head, indicating that a crime report was forthcoming. Jessica turned up the volume.

Apparently there was a multiple shooting up in Kansas City. They waited to see if police were involved - apparently not. Three dead and no suspects yet.

"If no cops were involved that's the end of it," said Carter. "No one seems to care how many of each other they kill, if there's not a cop involved it's gone by tomorrow."

"There seem to be fewer lately," Jessica said. "Maybe most of the cops have gotten the word. Shoot anyone you'll probably end up in prison."

"You would think so," said Carter. "The only cops they're going to have left now will be the worthless ones, the incompetents, the corrupt.

"We can only wonder how it's going to go, places like that. We know the enemy element in the government wants this, so they can get law enforcement federalized. But I don't know if they'll be able to control it, once they take over."

"It won't be their first miscalculation," said Carter. "With most of the big cities full of problematical inhabitants, the resources needed to control them would be massive. If you take the riots like they just had in Little Rock, multiply that by, whatever you like, but at least a few dozen. Of course, they wouldn't have much time to bother us."

"Which would be convenient," Jessica said, "but if they ever get complete and irreversible control of the government, they're likely to move fast against any potential resistance. I could see them going ahead and trying to confiscate private weapons, even seizing the assets of citizens who oppose them. Even if they are having to deal with bloodbaths in dozens of cities."

"Yeah, you're likely right," said Carter. "But at that point, at least we know where we stand, in terms of a political solution. There won't be one."


The Comanche taxied toward the runway, Jerry's son in the left seat. He had a few days off and decided to go along, so Jerry had him fly so he could log a few hours. Dale was excited, as he was for the first time in his life on a clandestine mission. The prospect of flying out to a remote airfield, picking up a passenger, and dropping him on another remote runway, was like something from a spy novel. Of which he had read a few.

Jerry sensed his son's mood. Once they were up he looked over and as their eyes met they both grinned.

"Butterflies?" Jerry asked.

"This is something we've talked about and planned for a lot," Dale said. "But actually doing it for the first time, yeah. It's a new feeling."

"The way things are looking," Jerry said, "we may find ourselves doing some the things we've been preparing for. And most of them won't be as easy as this."

The time for their passenger to reach the pickup point was about an hour. The Comanche could cover that distance in something less, so Dale kept their speed to about 140 miles per hour. Jerry looked out at the darkening land below them. The sun had just set - it would be dark when they landed. Becoming accustomed to night operations would be important in the future.

Before long they were approaching the target, and as they lined up with the runway they could see the landing lights that had been deployed. If the field eventually became essential, a permanent installation would be needed.

Jerry's phone rang, and pressed the answer button.

"John has a long mustache," came Jessica's voice.

That meant their passenger was ready, and would be waiting just off the runway. Dale set them down and rolled along the surprisingly long and well-maintained runway, considering it was mostly used by crop dusters. He saw a vehicle approaching the runway from the left side. Good, the door was on that side.

He brought the Piper to a stop even with the car. Jerry moved back to open the door and waited as a man jogged across the grass to the runway, reached down to help him aboard.

"Grab a seat and buckle up," Jerry said, closing the door and returning to his seat. Dale taxied on to the end of the runway and turned around. He didn't look at their passenger as he throttled up the engine and began the takeoff roll. They climbed into the now-dark sky, turning to head for the southern Kansas border.

Jerry turned to their passenger.

"Michael Kucinick, I presume? Did I pronounce it right?"

"You got it," said Michael.

"Welcome aboard," Jerry said. "I don't know how much you've been told about your future, but for now we're just getting you safely from one place to another. Safely and secretly. I'll call and let them you know you're en route."

Jessica answered the call.

"That was Colonel Strelnikov," she said. "At a little under three hundred miles, we're looking at about two and a half hours. And now, we wait. How about pizza?"

They had a leisurely meal at a Pizza Hut and returned to the hotel. The evening news had another homicide in Kansas City.

"Is that the one from earlier?" asked Jessica.

"No," said Tommy. "That one had three dead. Only one this time."

"It is Friday," Carter observed. "We're counting on the police being busy with other business, and it looks like they are."

"At this rate," said Jessica, "I don't know if driving through there, even on the interstate, is a great idea.

"We'll be all right," said Tommy. "There's at least six lanes through the worst part of town. The good part is some of the highway patrol may be off the interstate as a result. And we'll actually hit I-35 to the south, in Overland Park, so we should miss all the bad stuff. There may be a tollbooth or two, I don't remember if they're on our path. The only thing is we'll probably be on surveillance video, but no reason that should concern us."

Jessica looked at her phone.

"It's about an hour to landing time at Henderson's," she said. "We'd best go. It'll take a few minutes for me to check out, and we're about twenty minutes away."

Carter and Tommy carried the luggage down to the cars while Jessica checked out, and they departed. Henderson's estate was just a few miles outside of town, and within a few minutes they were waved through the gate and out to the aircraft parking area. Whatever aircraft Henderson had, they were out of sight. The two hangars looked as if they might more than one small aircraft, or a large one each. A couple of trucks were parked there, near a couple of fuel pumps. There were also a couple of Corvettes, relatively new, both red. Two men stood between them, talking and paying no attention to their arrival.

Henderson looked at his watch - a Rolex, Carter noticed - and over at the two Corvettes.

"Those are your chase cars," he said. "They'll be close to you at all times, usually one in front and one behind. Those 'vettes naturally draw attention, so any cops you encounter will be looking at them.

Jessica's phone rang, and she had a brief exchange consisting of nothing more than acknowledgements on her end.

"OK", she said, "they're about ten to twelve minutes out. We'll put Michael in my car, with Tommy and Darrell following. Are we in good position?"

"Everything looks good," Henderson replied. "When he's on the ground, just have him taxi up to the pumps. He can refuel and be out of here in under half an hour."

"Sounds good," Jessica said.

Before long they spotted the lights of an aircraft beyond the end of the runway, and then the landing lights came on. A few seconds later it was down, and Jessica called Jerry again, directing him to the fuel pumps. He and Dale gave the group a quick greeting, with a brief introduction to Henderson, and then turned to the business of refueling. The two Corvette drivers started their cars and drove over to where the group was getting into their cars. Nothing was said - the plans were made and it was time to execute them. They followed one of the Corvettes and the other fell in behind them.

The convoy took Route 69 at Pittsburgh and headed for Kansas City. Carter and Tommy were behind Jessica's car, and they remained sandwiched between the two Corvettes all the way to Kansas City. As Tommy was somewhat more familiar with the area, Carter called Jessica to suggest switching positions, with they did. The Friday evening traffic in the area was fairly heavy and staying together required careful focus on their driving until they emerged from the city's north side.

Carter had seen only a couple of police cars by then, and as they exited the city on I-35 he felt some relief. From here it was a straightforward cruise to the turn east to Chillicothe. The traffic was at its usual density for a Friday night, and the drive was uneventful. Before long they made the right turn onto US 36 for the final forty or so miles.

In Chillicothe Jessica contacted their escorts and had them let her take the lead, and stopped in the Wal-Mart parking lot. Advising them they were minutes from home, they watched the pair of cars reenter the highway and disappear. They were almost home.

A few minutes later they were at Jessica's house. It was past midnight but none of them, tired as they were, were ready to sleep. Jessica had called her father several times along the way, and now told him they were home.

"The eagle has landed," she told him. "See you tomorrow."

"And that's the last cliche of the mission," she said, smiling at them. "Michael, you must be at least as hungry as we are. Let's see if we can get a pizza or something. By the way, for your soon-to-be former name, did you go by Michael or Mike?"

Michael laughed, as the realization of the changes he was about to experience sank in.

"Mike's good for now."

"All right, Tommy, can you make Mike at home in the dining room, get some beers or something? Darrell can help me with the pizza."

The pizzas cooked and on the table, they ate silently for the first couple of slices. None of them had eaten all day, and as the adrenalin subsided they wanted nothing more than to eat and go to bed. A couple of beers each finished them off. After Tommy left Jessica showed Michael to an unused bedroom, and she and Carter went to her room.

Tired as they were, Carter and Jessica took a quick shower and brushed their teeth before retiring. The last thing he remembered was lying down on the big bed, arranging a pillow, and Jessica lying down beside him, her head next to his shoulder and an arm across his chest.