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Chapter 29

The US government in their infinite knowledge, had no idea or complete knowledge of Borga’s activities. In other words, they were totally clueless as usual. Even then they liked to thump their chest and pretend to be something much larger than they were.

Many of the Texans came to refer to them as The PUFFERS. But how do you show the American people, that their government is full of shit? They wisely decided to leave it alone. They’d left them alone while they fought the German, so they’d leave them alone in this.

While many respected the president, they wondered if the man had been told that the war with the German was over. He was coming to Texas for various reasons, but each was a smoke screen for him to talk to Dobs Macalister about ending the war once and for all.

The people needed to focus, on what was going on over seas, there were a number of other things taking place, and this matter must come to an end.

No, of course not the man had not been told.

Why? That was the burning question on the minds, of many of the remaining members. They were even going to fly Dobs and anyone of his choosing to Dallas, to personally meet with the Man.

Yeah, and maybe even arrest him, or have him kidnapped or perhaps killed. Lots of luck boneheads. Somebody would be there, but certainly not Dobs Macalister.

He was still too weak to fight back, and would be too easy prey. But since, you no doubt know, what he looks like. A very close second would have to do.

If he were willing.

He was.

Though she had been wounded Cindy stood with Stan beside my bed, they were both still amazed at my unique healing powers. “They think that you can’t be killed, the remaining members of your team that is. Some think you to be supernatural.”

“It was touch and go for a while there.” I said with a short smile. “Trust me, I had one hell of a headache for a few days afterward. I can feel pain, and if I can feel pain I can die. I’m not super anything, I’m just a man.”

“Dobs your brother is going to Dallas in your place.” Stan said softly. “Your people feel that something is up. . . and to be truthful so do we. Borga is still out there as is many of his people. We think that the Company has been compromised. Agent Larris and I are the only ones that have feelings on this next matter. We think that the Secret Service may have also been compromised.”

I was sitting propped up and I stared, at the two agents for a full minute before replying. “Then that means that the President is unprotected.”

“Yes.” Cindy replied. “Dobs. . . there’s more. We have reason to believe that Borga, may know where you are. If we’re right, then they’re going to come after you. They won’t care about your little boy, your wife or any other innocent they may be near. It’ll be worth any risk, as long as they get to kill you.”

“What do you suggest?” I asked. “I don’t think, you’re just telling me this to pass the time of day.”

“Let them think you’re dead,” Stan replied. “With any kind of luck they’ll go away, we’ll put security around your family, and they’ll be safe.”

I knew what they weren’t saying, and I had to hear them say it. “Say it all.” I said firmly.

“You’ll never go home again.” Cindy said in a low voice that sounded, as close to being sad, as an agent probably ever gets. “It won’t be such a bad life Dobs: You’ll work for the Company, and it can be arranged for you to look in on them from time to time.”

“That’ll be like almost reaching the point of an orgasm, or even worse getting caught in the short stroke.” I replied crudely. Something I did when I was extremely pissed.

“Nobody asked you to start the war.” Stan replied bluntly.

“No-nobody asked!” I shouted. “But where the fuck were you and your people? Probably pumping the neighbor’s cat, anything but doing your goddamn jobs. Somebody had to stop that bastard. . . now you tell me this is the only way to keep my family safe. You fuckheads! You miserable goddamn fuckhead sons of bitches!”

Both agents backed out of the room and stood silently listening to the enraged man vent his spleen. “I think he took that rather well.” Stan replied as he lit up a cigarette.

“He’s half right about one thing Stan. . .at least one of us is a fuckhead.”

Cindy could actually feel a degree of what Dobs must feel. He loved his family and wanted them to be safe, he loved them like he’d never loved anyone before. He started a war, thinking that all would go well.

Yes, he knew the risks, he knew that there were going to be people hurt and killed. That was one of the rules of war. But soldiers were suppose to be able to go home not to go into hiding.

Borga was the criminal, and had they done their job. . . instead they had purposely stood back and let the civilians do the fighting.

Dobs was right. Fuckheads! The assholes that sat behind their desks like some kind of prima donnas. The same ones that got where they were by some other means, but certainly not by hard work. They certainly were not field agents.

They had left-wing ideas as to how to deal with the crud. No chance for survival for the agent. One Fuckhead had actually said: “We have hundreds, no thousands of men and women wanting to work. If an agent falls, then another will step up. Rules will be followed.”

One agent had replied: “Then you try sweet talking the next shithead into giving up his gun. Better yet, get on your knees and suck his dick for all the good it will do you. If that bastard wants to kill you, then that bastard is going to kill you.”

“What is it you’re saying?”

“That even one agent in a body bag, so that another person can be hired is too big a price. A smart person will either shoot the fucker or had better hope his insurance pays his family.”

“You’re on notice mister!”

“You’re on notice mister!” the agent mocked back. “Fuck You!”he replied as he pulled his pistol and shot the desk jockey between the eyes. “Hey! Whose spose to take this fuck’s place? Send in the next victim.” he said as he boldly blew at the smoking barrel.

Sadly they sent that agent to the nearest mental ward. He’ll probably never get out. . . not in this century anyway.

The three men had taken their assigned positions and watched as the convoy of vehicles made their way down Elm Street on the northwest corner of Elm and North Houston Streets, at the western end of Dallas Texas. They each had their rifles that had been placed by Rogue group.

It will never be disclosed exactly from what direction the fatal shot came from or which rifle actually fired the shot. Even the men themselves had no idea if their rifle held a live round or a blank. They sighted in the back of the president’s head and pulled the trigger. The three shots were fired at the same exact moment and sounded as one.

Two of the men made their escape undetected but one man had been caught and was named as the shooter. He was identified and the nation fell into a hushed silence as they waited to hear if the president had only been wounded, or if he was dead as the first report had stated.

When she was hit at the shootout, she was pulled to safety by a for real gunfighter. It was 1963 and here was a gunfighter at the shootout. The few remaining members of, Rogue Group, were rounded up, and confined at the same jailhouse, that one some old cowboy claimed Billy the Kid had spent time in.

That she didn’t know anything about. Yeah, Billy may have been in Channing Texas. But if he was thrown in their jail, it was probably on some bullshit charge. From what her grandfather told her The Kid tried to stay out of trouble, but trouble did it’s best to always follow him.

Beaumont Stokes had been one of the gunmen of the west. He’d gone by so many other names, that people never knew just when he was in their town. Unless, somebody recognized him, he just moved on as some drifter that had been called.

Now here was a man going by the same name, and with the same affliction.

Lightening fast hands. It had been Stokes, that had saved her ass.

The moment that she’d looked into his eyes, she knew what it must have been like for Dobs, when he met first June. Love at first sight was suppose to be for the movies, and those books her mother reads. But. . . maybe not always so.

Bo as she found out he liked to be called was a very gentle man. He’d been forced to treat her wound, and stayed with her until her people arrived. Hell he could have left at anytime. But he didn’t. The medics were too shaken by him as he demanded for them to treat her.

She made damn certain that he wasn’t among those that were grabbed by her people. Boris Stokes had also stood by the young man. Now she knew. She knew why Dobs had been so enraged.

She found certain things very odd, things that she remained silent about. The number of children in the Stokes’s house didn’t quite match number that she’d been told. Thing was Stan knew something, but he was being very tight lipped.

In the backrooms other stories began to circulate, stories of an affair that Boris must have had, his mistress had became terminally ill and sent their son to live with his father.

Brenda must really love the man to put up with that. To actually raise her husband’s bastard child by another woman. Love will do that to some women the town would later reason.

It was either that time, that would finally hushed the talk, or the fact that Brenda had told one group of busybody old bitches. “Byron is my son, I ever hear of you or anybody in this town, call him Boris Stokes’s bastard I’ll come looking for you.”

Her report was to be a strange one to be sure.

Bill Wilson had left the force and had gone to work for the Company. It would seem that all was coming to an end. That there was to finally be some closure to this whole damn mess.

Dobs had agreed only to her, that the best thing would be for him to die.

“Maybe let it slip that one of Borga’s men actually made it into my hospital room.”

“How do we do that?”

“There has got to be at least, one dead body that no one has seen or claimed. Let security go lax in this room, supply that body to be me. Then have some unknown agent show up and shoot the assassin. But of course it was too late.”

“What about your wife? She’ll want to see your body.”

“Body was just too badly mutilated, and it would be too much for her to see.”

“You think the German will buy that? Sounds a bit wild don’t it?”

“The lone assassin was dying anyway, and was popped up on stolen painkillers, and only God knows what else. It was being kept hush-hush for security reasons. He killed the guard and made his way to my room. He found me alone and killed and mutilated my body.”

Cindy smiled and shook her head. “I like the way your mind works.”

“I find no pleasure in being sneaky when it comes to my wife. But it would seem that I have no choice. . .for only them, would I ever live, kill, or die. Not many people have that.”

For the first time in her career Cindy Larris felt like a shit. This was a good man, and they had no right to do this to him. “Would you explain that?”

“A Person must be willing to live. Really live life to the fullest. To experience all of the wondrous beauty God has given us. A person must know death, and they must also face death. They must acknowledge the time to kill. Any who threaten or poses a threat to your family must never get the upper hand. You take them out of the game as early as possible. Living and killing are both made difficult, and easy at the same time. If a person can pick and choose his time, it should be at a time that will be the most good for his family, his country and his God. There are times when some force may think they have their prey in check, only to find they are in checkmate.”

Cindy felt a cold shudder flow through her body, was that a message to her? A warning to. . .

“An enemy is anybody that threatens my family Agent Larris. I have never heard you speak in such a way. I don’t think you would make war with children, but if I were you I’d hunt a very deep fucking hole.”

Cindy slowly nodded her head, she knew what was coming, there was only one way to be caught in this mess, and she had no intentions of being caught in the shit-storm that was coming. She still had a chance at life.

Too many others had tried to avoid being pulled in but had failed. They were all either dead, or serving a life sentence with the Company. When they got their hands on you, it was for life. But the reorganization would change all that. Rogue Group was dying a very slow death.

Thing was there were still agents out there recruiting for their cause. Which lead her to believe that something very dark and evil was trying to grow larger.

“I never wanted to harm you or your family Dobs, I’ve nothing to do with what is going on.” She knew that she’d just broke the golden rule. But she felt that

somehow she was no longer part of that group. She just might have a chance at a life maybe even with Bo Stokes.

“I never really thought that you were, but with these people my family is now marked. I’ll have to follow through with the plan until I can work something else out. Promise me something Larris: That no matter what my family will be looked after.”

Cindy smiled softly. She was all for looking up Bo and then the two of them just disappearing. But she knew that she couldn’t, she owed this man more than she could ever admit to. “I swear it.”

A nurse chose that time to enter the room, tears in her eyes. “I think you should turn on the TV. Something very bad has happened.”

The television was turned on and Cindy and Dobs, listened as the strained voice spoke. “President Kennedy has been shot. . .”

Cindy slowly moved her hand over, and gently took Dobs’s hand into her own. The voice of the speaker suddenly muted.

“Jesus.” Dobs muttered. “Why? Who would. . .”

“Rogue Group. Borga.” Cindy replied as the tears began to roll down her cheeks. “He’ll never stop, they’ll never stop. You think it’s over? You’ll never be able to hide your family. Nobody will be safe.”

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