Trellis: Trellis Trilogy (One) Page 13

  Coughlin looked annoyed again knowing that D had so much access to his thoughts but he further explained, “We are baffled by the strange weather patterns across the land. The US scientific communities are baffled by it. The State Department is not involved and no country is admitting any involvement. HAARP was created to study the effects of mankind changing weather by heating up the atmosphere. Literally focusing high intense beams into the ionosphere. If one could theoretically control weather patterns, you could hold the earth hostage. As you said, it was a dismantled program, doesn’t mean that the technology was dismantled. It is almost as if something is being geared up to wreak havoc across the land and sky.”

  D didn’t know what to do with this revelation and she wondered why Coughlin would even trust her so much to ask her these questions. Is the old man growing trust in his heart towards her, or is he planting seeds and trying to use her somehow? She shook off the new information he just gave her. There was nothing she could do with it right then anyway.

  Pushing the visit from Coughlin and his wife’s mind, she placed the idea of spending the day at the farmer’s market together. That should be torture for a man like Coughlin. She tried to push the whole surveillance operation with Banks out of his mind. Since he had been consumed with this issue the last few days, it may pop back up eventually as a past dream.

  She had the two agents that were still standing by the open back door follow her out. They left heading back to the surveillance van. She needed to retrieve all the information gained from this little stunt Coughlin pulled. No more missteps, she had to be thorough this time. She should have pushed the whole CCD interrogation fiasco out of his mind the other day. Driving back to the flower delivery van and Bank’s apartment complex she couldn’t help but hope Banks hadn’t found the devices herself, Agent Drake, and Agent Foster planted.

  She hated this! She wanted a normal life where there was no Trellis, no high-ranking officials pulling strings with the American people, or pulling the strings of the World as their puppet. D had never come close to whom the ‘go to person’ was that communicated between Trellis and the people in charge. She couldn’t point to one political party that was in charge, although, she’s not even sure if it was a political party. She thought more on the lines of political agendas for a One World Government that wanted complete power. D was sure the Worlds governments were controlled by a few people in high places and were more secretive than anyone could ever imagine. Whoever it was, they now had so much power that it reached far in to the culture like the central nervous system of the human body, controlling every aspect of the political landscape, the entire World, spreading like a cancer slowing killing whatever doesn’t suit their agenda. If these people need a political agenda met, they send for one of their ‘grown from infancy’ handpicked and trained expendable humans to carry out scandalous acts on our culture and abroad.

  She wondered if they were sending someone from Trellis to Fort Knox. The day when she walked on to the plane when she left Trellis and had the pilot fly her from that Island, she was young and naive. It never occurred to her she would ever need to go back, she regretted every day not taking note of the coordinates of the island. She wanted off the island, and it was easy, almost too easy for her to fly off.

  She wasn’t exactly positive what was planned for Fort Knox but she had a pretty good idea and was sure it didn’t involve a massacre; the job was imperative to the financial success and future of The United States of America. No way would they chance sending a clone and upset the applecart. Too many countries were involved to chance exposing Trellis and its clones.

  ‘Unless, no, surely not? Certainly, Dr. Salvaggi hasn’t had a successful surgery of the same magnitude as my surgery success. It had been a few years since I left, there was always a possibility one of the surgeries took,’ D contemplated to herself.

  There was also the possibility many of the government’s hand grown clones have died in the process of being surgically altered, which seems far more likely of a scenario. Fear took over her thoughts for the first time since she found out Banks might be a target of Coughlin’s.

  ‘What if there was a successful surgery of a clone that could control me?’ D shuttered at the thought.

  What if they turned her in to a mindless clone, carrying out heinous acts with no memory of it? She didn’t want to go back to Trellis… She didn’t have time to think about that now even though she couldn’t keep it from hovering in her thoughts.

  She pulled up next to the van and parked behind it. The three of them exited the small car, climbed in the flower delivery van, and slid the heavy van door shut with a loud slam. She had the two of them show her what they were up to, what they had planted, the notes they had taken, photographs they had snapped of Banks, and his dog. She took a few devices, memory cards, all the notes, and pictures. Having them deactivate all remote devices in the apartment that were active. She had them write down all their passwords to personal emails and social media pages they had. For good measure and for her amusement, she mentally leaves a thought for them to update their social media statuses on where they go throughout the days to come, also where and what they were eating every time they picked up any food and stuck it in their mouth. This should annoy everyone they were friends with on their social media pages, and give her a good clue if they were close to Banks apartment again.

  She left them with a mission to return the van to wherever they got it, and to go back to their separate homes and relax all weekend. Handing them back their guns she pushed this little field trip to Coughlin’s house, the park, her, and hopefully the time spent watching Banks completely deep in their subconscious, somewhere tucked away in their grey brain tissue matter, lost…

  Chapter Ten~

  Colin Banks closed his computer and took a deep reflective breath. He hated being so vague with his sister about his weekend plans. Very few people knew the true Colin Banks, that was his personality and he was fine with it, normally. A need to know basis and no more, and for now she didn’t need to know. This weekend was intended to be spent away from worldly influences, city lights, and most definitely away from work. He was nearly ready for his weekend. He had been up for a few hours, jogged around the park with Spudsy in the light glow of the early cold morning, showered, read his morning bible study, cooked eggs, bacon, toast, and packed lightweight protein enriched food for the next two day’s meals but hoping he would be catching fish at the campsite.

  He grabbed his grey backpack and finished neatly placing things inside. Everything had a place and a purpose, he tucked items in here and there, it was obvious he had done this hundreds of times. Ever since he could remember, he had been regimented and liked to have everything precisely in order. Other kids made fun of his habits. After joining the Army he quickly was indoctrinated as an Army Ranger he was prompted to test out for Special Force, it was then he found others like himself. Very few knew of his status as Special Force and he liked it that way. Leaving the Special Forces behind, if that was something you could really ever do, and taking a job at the CCD, he once again felt he fit in, a puzzle piece that found a home. Recently, his piece in this puzzle gave him reservation about his career and Coughlin threatening him about his detainee made Banks want to question everything.

  He had been trained to take orders for the greater good of the country. To serve, honor and protect was a black and white depiction of how he felt in the Army. Nothing was ambiguous with the Military— he was given an order, he followed through, and was given another order. He didn’t feel the need to question authority because when a target was taken out it was clear to everyone involved it was for the greater good. Simple, easy, he knew who the enemy was and who his Special Force brothers were; there were no mistrusts. Now, with everything that had been happening within his own office, knowing that there could be a mole, knowing that all the work he did could be overturned, and taken away with one visit from Coughlin made him sick. He was questioning everything, his purpose at th
e bureau, and even regrets about leaving the Military so early. He always thought that he would retire from the military, making it a life career but Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was taking its toll on a few of the guys in his unit. He didn’t want PTSD to sneak up on him, however, if you asked his sister she would tell you that he already had PTSD. Banks did have symptoms from PTSD but denial of this disorder was something he had gotten good at ignoring.

  As a Special Forces Operational Detachment member he was deployed on many missions, received many medals, and his family knew none of it, other than him being a member of the military. Keeping their mouth shut was something that came easy to the majority of these men, which was a good characteristic to have for the job. Colin Banks was the leader on nearly all of his unit’s missions and extraction operations. He thrived on adrenaline seeking assignments like most of the men in this highly selective secretive unit. His unit worked alongside many military units, Marine Force Recon and Navy SEALs to mention a few. He had made connections in every branch of the military. He mostly started out doing recon and scouting missile launching sites in the Middle East and then working to disarm them. Later more detailed extraction missions with detainees and kidnapping wanted terrorists. Then there was the mission that went terribly wrong after faulty intelligence was relayed to the unit, he had never spoke to anyone about that failed mission other than his commanding officer at the time. When he and his Special Force brothers left they were hoping civilian life would be an easy transition. They were wrong.

  Spudsy lay on the floor next to Colin’s feet, “What? Did I get you up too early, bud? Because I doubt the run wore you out.” Colin zipped up his bag and fastened a thin but dense, snugly rolled uncomfortable looking sleeping bag, and a one-man tent to the bottom of the backpack with some small bungee cords. He opened up his closet and took out the snowsuit, gloves, goggles, white skin-like hat, boots, a helmet, and placed them in an extra-large duffle bag then grabbed his snowboard, settled it on top of his snowsuit and boots then zipped up the bag. He grabbed his boarding pass off the printer, folded it up precisely, and inserted it in his wallet next to some cash and IDs. He picked the backpack up and placed it on his back tightening the straps for a firmer fit, then reached down and hooked a leash to Spudsy, grabbed his duffle bag and headed for the front door.

  When he reached the front door, he sat the duffle bag to his side, reached up to feel the remote motion sensor he had attached close to the corner of the curtain panel near the top, adjusted to focus towards the front door. Securely attached to the wall, there was no way Spudsy could have made it move. He was baffled how Spudsy could have made the alarm go off in the first place, but if that dog had showed him anything, it was Spudsy was an overactive dog. With no signs of forced entry and nothing missing, he didn’t think much more about it.

  He grabbed his duffle bag and a small black heavy-duty metal case that was locked. It held a 357 snub nose magnum. There was no way he was going up to Mt. Washington without it. He had never needed it before but he had never been by himself up on the mountain either.

  By the time he got Spudsy dropped off at the kennel and went back to the apartment for another false alarm from his security notification; he still made it to the airport right on time. He checked his bags, the 357 took a little paperwork, a few signatures and soon he was sitting at the terminal gate waiting to be called. He would be arriving in an hour and a half and on to phase two of his weekend retreat, Heli-snowboarding. His Special Force brother Jase Furlough owned a helicopter touring business and Jase would do anything for his old Special unit brothers.

  When he arrived at the Mount Washington Airport in New Hampshire, he was stoked to get on the snow. He could almost imagine the biting cold against his cheeks and the burn of his thigh muscles as he glided down the white powdered surface. He was hoping the weather cooperated.

  He retrieved his belongings and headed to the front of the airport exit. He was greeted by a Jase Furlough near the door, smiling. Jase was shorter than him, stupendously fit, with a dark colored five o’clock shadow on his face, and mirrored aviation sunglasses on.

  “Fur,” Colin acknowledged his buddy as he allowed himself to smile, something he didn’t do often. The Special Force brothers in their unit had a nickname or a shortened version of their real name and Jase Furlough’s nickname was Fur.

  Jase Furlough nodded at him in a gesture of a favorable reception and responded, “Banks, let’s get this show on the road. Need help with those bags?”

  “Got them, are you going to hold my hand, too?” Banks answered with a smirk.

  “It’s nice to see you, too, brother.” Furlough whispered as he laughed. He walked in front of Banks towards the doors with Banks slightly trailing behind with his bags.

  Colin and Jase settled into the seats of the chopper and adjusted the headsets around their head comfortably. Colin could easily have flown the helicopter himself, he had extensive training in flight rescue and jumping, along with a list of other skills he didn’t like to talk about.

  Once the helicopter was in the air, Jase asked, “So what is this weekend about? Our annual get-together isn’t for another 7 months. Why by yourself this time?”

  “You always did ask too many questions.” Banks tried to divert the question as he looked out the window.

  “The bureau getting to you?” Furlough asked.

  Banks grave expression towards his Special Force brother spoke more than Banks wanted it to and he knew he couldn’t hide the truth but he didn’t have to answer. His silence spoke for him.

  Jase pressed his lips tightly together and nodded his head in understanding. “So how is Sissy? Is she doing well at school since the funeral?” Furlough asked trying to change the subject to something he knew Banks would talk about.

  “She’s doing better. Evidently there is no shortage of losers that Sissy can attract.”

  Jase checked a few gauges and looked out the window to his side as he shouted, “She emails me every now and then but I haven’t heard anything in a while from her.”

  Banks looked over at his friend and in a seriousness that can only come from an over protective older brother and snarled, “Furlough, stop talking to my sister.”

  Jase’s smile spread ear to ear and he replied, “Hey, the girl contacts me. You know I’m tall, dark and mysterious.”

  “The tall part could be questioned.” Banks retorted with a huff through his nostrils.

  “Oh, look! Your drop point, don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Jase pointed to the steep incline as he tilted the chopper to the side as if to drop Colin right there, all in good fun.

  Jase landed the plane gently on a flat-leveled area of the slope effortlessly, something he had done a number of times. Colin turned to get out of his seat when Jase stopped him, “You have your Avalanche Beacon Transceiver turned on to transmit?”

  “Roger that,” Banks answered. He took his large black duffle bag and unzipped it then took his snow gear out. He began putting on his snowsuit and boots. Before he zipped up the suit he took his metal gun case, pulling the gun from its cushioned holder, and placed it in his chest strap along with an extra clip of ammo. He zipped up his jacket, placed the white skin-like hat on his head, goggles, helmet next, snow boots, and then finally his gloves. He tightly secured the backpack to his shoulders then buckled the straps at the bottom around his waist so it wouldn’t move around while he was hurdling down the slope. He looped a lead chain through the end of the snowboard and then the other end he clasped to his left boot and secured it with a clip. This prevented a runaway board if he were to get separated from it for some reason.

  He packed up the rest of his stuff in the black duffle bag that wouldn’t be coming with him and zipped it up. He looked up at Furlough and gave strict orders, while opening up the helicopter door, “Don’t let any of your civilian tourists touch this bag.”

  “No problem. Hey Colin, look up!” Jase yelled over the loud reverberation of the helicopter win
gs.

  Banks looked up in time to see a flash of a camera.

  “I don’t need my picture taken!”

  “Sure you do! If you get lost I’ll have to show the authorities some kind of photograph. And besides I’m probably too short to trudge through these few inches of snow to find your sorry butt!” He laughed.

  Colin smiled back, and responded, “Thanks Fur! I know you’ll look out for me. Tomorrow at 1600 hours in the usual spot!”

  “You got it buddy!”

  Colin jumped out on the unbroken snow, ducked his head down out of the vicinity of the helicopter blades circling around overhead and walked a safe distance while Jase began his ascend into the air.

  Banks stood there taking in the view of the valley below. To him this felt like home. He could live up here and be completely content. The air was crisp, the weather was clear and the wind was gusty. The rain forecast was clear for four days, nothing but smooth sliding from here. Spudsy would love it out here, he thought. He never understood why it was called the most dangerous hiking grounds in the US. He always thought, if you respect the wilderness and use common sense, you would come out unscathed. Then again, he was a highly trained Special Force Operative, with the most advanced survival skills known.

  He analyzed the site he would be descending down, chose the route he wanted to take, with both hands he adjusted the goggles on his face, snapped the strap on his helmet and bent down to adjust the position of the snowboard. He took a deep breath and pushed himself forward inching his left lead foot to the place that would send him on his thrill ride. He could hear the helicopter’s chopping noises high in the air, no doubt waiting to see how this vertical descend would go and possibly Jase was still taking pictures of him.