Fabler's Fall

By Micheal King

NO ANSWER

‘No I just need to think, and the phone looks closer,’ Erik said with a smile he didn’t feel. After ordering a steak and egg combo, a glass of milk and coffee, he decided to try phoning home.
Maybe his mom was home and she could help. Using the last credit on his phone card, Erik dialled.
We are sorry, but the number you have called is not in service, please check the number or call the operator for assistance, the recorded message intoned.
Hanging up Erik stared at the phone for a few seconds, trying not to show that he was worried...

He did not know his whole family had been murdered!

• Language: English
• Publisher: CUSTOM BOOK PUBLICATIONS
• Release date: Oct 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310132964

Book preview

CHAPTER 2

New Bern, North Carolina

The downtown centre was moving slowly and the industrial district was near empty. In a small warehouse far from the main highway, a lone figure sat behind a military grey desk, his arms folded over his chest as he waited for the telephone to ring. The black phone was the only thing sitting on the scarred desk top, and its silence annoyed the figure sitting there.

Outside the rain had started falling, the drops beating a staccato against the single window. As the figure sat there staring out the window, the approach of headlights on high beam blinded him to the outside world. The figure was still sitting behind the desk when the headlights switched off and the sound of slamming doors was heard.

Minutes later the mumbling of voices could be heard over the slapping sound of wet shoes on concrete. The voices grew more distinguishable the closer they came to where the figure sat waiting. '…I tell you Jasper, the Beretta will outshoot a forty-five any day,' a nasally voice said.

'The day a nine millimeter beats my forty-five is the day I am put into my grave,' Jasper whined. 'Besides the boss still uses a fort-five and he ain't never been beaten,' he continued.

'That's because we all like our jobs, none of us would ever think of beating him,' nasal voice replied as they entered the room where their boss sat waiting. 'Any word yet boss?' nasal asked.

Looking up at Jasper and his partner, the figure just shook his head, then smiled as he quickly unfolded his arms, his right hand pointing at the two men standing before him. Still smiling the boss's right hand twitched and two loud bangs were heard. Jasper had just enough time to look surprised before he watched his partner crumple to the floor, seconds later a flash of pain raced through Jasper's head and his world went black as he fell across his dead partner.

Standing, the boss moved out of the room, his steps silent as he walked across the warehouse. Pushing a button on the far wall, the figure waited for the large bay doors to open. Sitting on the tarmac was a black Bell 210, the blades and rotor slowly starting to spin as the pilot warmed the engine. Behind the Bell in stationary positions were two equally black, fully armed Cobra gunships, the bright red tips of the twelve tow missiles the only thing breaking the blackness. The downdraft from the blades made circles in the already forming puddles and whipped at the lone figure as he hunched his shoulders and rushed to his waiting helicopter. Once seated, the pilot increased the engine speed and gently lifted off, moving northwest as the twin Cobras moved in, and unleashed four missiles totally obliterating the small warehouse in a ball of flames, before joining up with the Bell and leaving the area.

At the age of sixty-three, Jason Fabler controlled many people but few businesses, his money coming from the selling of arms, drugs and classified material to the highest bidder. Over the past year Fabler had tried to acquire Darkling Enterprises, only to be thwarted and laughed at.

All through school Fabler had never let anyone get away with laughing at him, Darkling had laughed once too many times, and now he was going to pay for it with his son's life. Fabler was a patient man, and he would use that patience to get what he wanted the most. Right now that was revenge. Jason's helicopter would be landing in Rocky Mount, NC by the time the boy and his guardians would be landing in Seattle, WA.

Back in Rocky Mount and seated in the back of a pearl grey, English drive Bentley with its rich dark leather seats and light wood paneling, gave small comfort to a nervous Fabler. Taking a small tumbler from the center fold-down console, Fabler poured himself a double shot of twenty-year-old Glenfiddich, then leaned his head back. He was taking his first sip when his phone went off with a piece from Handel's Messiah. Taking the phone from the seat beside him, Fabler flipped it open.

'Fabler here,' he answered.

'Boss, Tompkins here. We have the parcel but black beauty is having a bad day,' Tompkins stated.

'Is the parcel intact… and what is wrong with beauty?' Fabler asked, anger edging into his voice.

'Yes the package is safe. As for beauty it seems like the left flap and ventral fin have sustained some sort of damage, either when we were taking off or landing. The mechanics here at Sea-Tac say it will take about a week to fix,' Tompkins replied.

'Damn… that is all I need. Okay, charter a flight to Chihuahua, Mexico, I'll have the Raven meet you there, and keep the parcel safe,' Fabler snapped.

*****

CHAPTER 3

Central Baptist Hospital:

Standing there, staring at Wheeler laid out in the bed with the monitors all beeping, Rawson was having second thoughts. Replacing the briefcase where he had found it, he was about to leave when he noticed Wheeler's eyes were open and watching Rawson. Although he was unable to speak, the accusations could be seen in Wheeler's eyes. Feeling like an idiot Rawson turned and left just as a heavy set man in a Brooke's Brothers suit stepped into the room, the suit accentuating the cold blue eyes of the man.

Sam Johnson had been enjoying his Sunday morning with his wife Liza and her family when his phone rang for the second time in less than twenty minutes. The Battle charge that sounded disrupted his family time. 'Johnson here,' Sam snapped at the interruption.

'Sam, I'm sorry for bothering you on your day off but it seems like Texas has a big problem,' the voice said.

'When does Texas not have a problem, sir?' Sam asked, recognizing the Governor's voice.

'Hardly ever, but this problem is different.' The Governor laughed before continuing, 'Have you ever heard of Stanford Darkling, or of Darkling Enterprises?'

'Sir, I may be new to Texas, but even in Florida, Darkling Enterprises is well known. You are the second person today to mention that name.'

'I don't understand, who else called you?'

'That I don't know, all I can say it that the caller mentioned a kid named Erik Darkling… a male voice.'

'That is Stanford's missing son. He went missing two years ago, and it seems like the San Antonio police, the Sheriff's department and the FBI have given up looking for him.'

'Well someone knows that he is safe, but won't tell me where he is.'

'You have Presidential Authority to take over any case, so why haven't you done so?'

'Well for one, I have about a dozen cases sitting on my desk, and another reason is, I just got back from my honeymoon.'

'Well as of right now the Darkling case is all you have to worry about, so pass off the other cases to someone else.'

'I would sir, but there are not enough officers in the unit.'

'I am not asking, Johnson, I am ordering you.'

'With all due respect sir, you cannot make that order. Only the President can, and I know he won't, but to put your mind at ease, I was going to look anyways… that call this morning got me curious.'

'I want that boy found,' he snapped, hanging up.

Now a week later, looking at the bruised face of Jesse Wheeler, Sam wondered if he would ever be able to answer any of the million and one questions that were running through Sam's head. The foremost was where was the Darkling case files, and if Wheeler didn't have them then who did?

'Wheeler, I am Sam Johnson of SCU, I am here to inform you that I am taking over the Darkling Case. I am also informing you that I want any and all files, pictures and interviews that you have. If they are on your office computer then I want the file passwords,' Sam intoned with authority, showing a stunned Wheeler his SCU ID.

Sometimes silence can be a blessing, and there were many times when Jesse appreciated silence, but today was not one of them. Feelings of frustration raced through his mind, he wanted to talk to Sam, to tell him everything he could but all that happened were that the monitors started beeping.

'Relax Wheeler, if you have the file, either nod your head or blink your eyes,' Sam calmly stated.

Since Jesse was unable to nod, he energetically blinked his eyes and tried to point to the small closet beside the bed. Sam was glad that Wheeler had the file, but where the file was located Sam couldn't figure.

'Jesse, is the file here in this room?' Sam gently asked.

Again Jesse answered with rapid blinks, and tried even harder to point the way. Looking around Sam could only guess at what Jesse was trying to do. 'Are you the only one interested in the case?'

This time Jesse didn't blink or even try to move, this gave Sam some indication that the case was still being tended to. 'Were these people with the FBI or your department?

Sam was just about to ask another question, when the door opened and a nurse walked in followed by a doctor. The hazel eyes of the nurse flashed Sam a look that felt like a pail of ice water.

'You'll have to leave now sir, as it is time to change his bandages.' The nurse stated with a voice that matched her look.

'I have just one question? When will Officer Wheeler here be able to talk?' Sam asked.

'I would give him another week, then he might be able to talk, I can't guarantee that though,' the doctor answered. He gently lifted the right side of the blankets as Sam turned and left the room.

Outside the hospital Sam stopped, waiting for a few cars to move away before crossing to where he was parked. While Sam was waiting he thought back to the day that President Ben Jacobs had asked him to head up the Special Children's Unit, giving Sam free reign over any missing child case in any of the fifty states. Now the only thing Sam needed were more hours in the day to work. A few more personnel would help also, but that was something he knew would not be happening anytime soon. Now he had been ordered to take on another case, a case with already too many wasted days. Any trace of the boy would be gone, and the only evidence that the boy was alive was the phone call saying so, and the fact that Wheeler knew where the kids file was. Wheeler's knowledge helped but until he could talk, Sam was at a dead end.

Sam had just unlocked the door to his Chevy Tahoe when he felt someone watching him. Glancing around, Sam barely caught sight of someone disappearing under the window of a car a few spots down. Being in the Rangers and having worked with the Secret Service on cases, made Sam a cautious man. Leaving the keys in the door he slowly stepped back. Sam was about to kneel when a loud hiss reached his ears and he noticed a slight rocking to his Tahoe. Shuffling backwards, Sam moved a couple of cars away before slowly rising and looking around. First he noticed that the car with the lone occupant was gone, and found himself alone. Moving back to the hospital entrance, Sam called up the San Antonio police where he identified himself with the dispatcher, before requesting a patrol car and the bomb unit.

Sven Bjarnson had been a patrol officer with the San Antonio Police Department for more than fifteen years, had been shot twice in the line of duty and survived. He had asked to be moved inside, but at the time the only opening had been in the dispatch office, so Sven made the move.

A year ago when word had gone out announcing the start-up of the SCU, Sven like every other cop, felt as if someone else was out to steal the glory, and reap the rewards for finding these missing children. So when Sven took Sam's call, and heard he was with the SCU, he took his time sending the requested units. So when half an hour had passed, and Sam still had not seen either of the units he called again. 'San Antonio Police Department, how may I direct your call?' Sven asked.

'This is Special Agent Sam Johnson calling back, let me speak with your Captain now,' Sam snapped.

'One moment please?' Sven answered.

With a couple of clicks, Sam was soon listening to background music as he was put on hold. Ten minutes later the phone was again picked up by the dispatcher.

'Who are you holding for?'

'Listen to me very carefully, put me through to your Captain right away or I will contact the chief. You decide.' The anger in his voice rose with every word.

'One moment please,' Sven responded again.

'Captain Ortez, what can I do for you Agent Johnson?' he asked.

'You can send a patrol and a bomb disposal unit to the Central Baptist Hospital and I expect them here within ten minutes, furthermore, I shall be speaking with your chief in regards to this matter, and how your dispatch officer has handled it,' Sam spat, his patience long gone.

'Now Agent Johnson, there is no need…' Ortez started.

'No need!' Sam interrupted. 'I called your department an hour ago asking for those units, and all I got was the brush off, during which time who knows what could have happened. Now once again, you get me those units or else.'

Sam was still talking to Ortez, when the sound of thunder reached him. Looking in the direction of the sound all he saw was a roiling fireball racing upwards. As the shockwave reached him, Sam had just enough time to grab a nurse and move them both behind a pillar before shards of glass, steel and rocks rained down upon them.

When everything had settled and people were picking themselves up, Sam chanced a looked in the direction the explosion came from, knowing already that he wouldn't see his Tahoe or any of the vehicles around it. Sam saw also what was left of his phone laying amidst the debris. Picking it up Sam shoved it in his jacket pocket before going to