From On High

By J.J. Jeffries

Recently retired Senator Benjamin Hilderman, while taking a sabbatical at his families' cabin in the backwoods of Coos county New Hampshire, is found dead in the middle of the lake.  No alarms were raised until there was a problem with the Senators secondary life insurance rider policy that kept on getting kicked backed to the manager Anthony Pratchet of the Senate and House Life Insurance Company.   The senator's widow had no knowledge of the secondary policy or the bank account in the Caymans Island.

Prompting a very quite investigation into the policy, Anthony begins to uncover some very unusual activity stemming from the policy.  Further investigation uncovers a web of intrigue, espionage and terrorism which puts Anthony and his secretary Sherinn into harms way.  The trail soon leads them down a dark corridor to the deserts of Afghanistan and the skies over Washington D.C., uncovering dark and perilous corners in the United States Government and world affairs. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.J. Jeffries
• Release date: Feb 3, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224534326

Book preview

PROLOGUE

The cabin has stayed the same for one hundred and two years with very little in the way of updates ever being made to it.  The Senator still had to carry in kerosene for the lights and stove, but the outhouse had to finally be moved about ten years back.  The north woods of Coos County New Hampshire, especially the Carter Lakes area was the only place where recently retired Senator Benjamin Hilderman felt most at home and at peace.  He loved this place his great grandfather had built and along with that he loved the outdoors, and he loved the solitude.  He loved having to pull his own water out of the well pump in the kitchen and he loved the fact that this hideaway was off the grid.  This cabin had no electricity, no running water, and no gas line.  At night he was able to sit on the dock fishing for bullhead looking up at the stars.

The potbelly stove was as original as the cabin and one that granddad had personally installed and was the only way to cook anything.  He was a bit proud that everything he ate from that stove was done in the lonely, ancient cast iron skillet.  Right now he was waiting for the coffee pot to percolate so he could fill his thermos and get out on the lake for some early morning perch fishing.  He had been fighting his craving for a delicacy, deep fried perch tales for several weeks now.  Peering out the window, he could make out through the fog the glistening morning dew on the grass that was cast, he thought, with a mythethereal from a moon that had not quite yet set.  All things considered, all was good in his world. 

He prepared a quick peanut butter and jelly sandwich for his breakfast all the while laughing at himself, realizing that he combined two separate words effortlessly that just seemed to make sense.  Today’s portmanteau was his new word he thought with a chuckle, was Mythethereal. The two words mythical and ethereal just seemed to be the right words at the right time to make this new word of his.  He made a mental note to check his dictionary later in the afternoon when he got back from fishing to see if it was an actual word.  He enjoyed his breakfast sandwich so much that he made and sacked three more along with potato chips and cola for the lake. 

His thought’s wandered back two weeks prior to the concession speech he gave, throwing all his support behind the new Senator Steve Garovick as the results were posted.  He had lost by just two percent, and being seventy two years old, he figured it was high time he retired.  He had done his stint for God and country, now he was up for retirement and the occasional speaking engagements on the college circuit. 

He heard the coffee percolating on the stove behind him.  He turned and poured a half cup for himself, then turned back to the window as a moose and her two calves sauntered across his front lawn.  Yup, north was where he was most at home. 

He filled his thermos and pulled on several layers of clothing. He grabbed his ancient AM radio, his food sack and turned the kerosene lights off.  He stepped out onto the porch as the loons began their calls back and forth across the lake.  Grabbing his fishing gear off the porch rack, he strode with purpose the fifty yards to the dock where the seventy five year old rowboat his grandfather had made was moored.  He attributed the ripples he noticed in the water alongside the boat to a fish coming up for a look around and thought nothing more about it.  Off he went for a long morning of fishing, hoping he would catch his dinner. 

As it turned out, he would not need dinner.

CHAPTER ONE

Late morning from across the lake, a young couple set out for a picnic, intent on enjoying the day on one of the small islands towards the middle of the lake.  They spotted the small rowboat anchored in the middle of the lake, but couldn’t see anyone in it.  It appeared abandoned, and they had originally thought they had the lake to themselves on this slow Tuesday morning.  The two rowed out with the intention of putting a rope to it and bringing it back to their dock, hoping to track down the owner after lunch.  They were unprepared for what they would find.

The Senator was lying on his back in the middle of the boat, drying coffee covering the front of his shirt, the cup still held in his fingers.  His sandwich, with only one bite missing, was still clutched in his hand, the bite still in his mouth, mostly unchewed. His fishing line was in the water, pulled tight by a fish.  He was not breathing and had not been breathing for quite some time. 

The young woman was a student nurse.  She reached in to take his pulse, but found none.  She tried to move his arm down, but stopped when there was some resistance.  A little bit of rigor had already set in. 

They did not touch anything else.  They covered him and lashed his boat to theirs and towed him into shore.  Her boyfriend walked out to the crossing and made his way to the small country convenience store that sold gas and ice.  He asked to use the phone to call the state police. 

The senator was a simple man with simple pleasures.  However, his funeral was quite the contrary.  He was laid out in a gunmetal gray casket with brass edging and solid hickory handles.  He was the eldest of three brothers and four sisters, all of whom loved big families.  The gathering was a bittersweet affair with reminiscences of the good times, remembering dad and Uncle Ben.  Some of the family hadn’t been to the cabin in years, so the day after the services everyone caravanned to the lake and brought picnic items to share. 

The investigation into his death was concluded fairly quickly.  He was seventy two, he had been in a high stress job and according to his medical records his cholesterol had been high for several years.  Add in the fact that he never lost the twenty pounds he promised his doctor that he would. 

The state police conducting the investigation into his death had found nothing out of the ordinary and when the FBI showed up asking for all the information gathered, there were no quarrels over jurisdiction.  Nothing in the way of foul play was indicated in any toxicology screens and the state coroner filed his death as natural causes. 

Nothing seemed amiss nor pointed to foul play for two reasons.  He was an aging senator whose likeability was one of the highest in the senate, and he was an average Joe with some minor but seemingly insignificant health issues.  You could find yourself sitting at the counter having a cup of coffee with the Senator if you were in the right place at the right time. 

For two months nothing raised suspicions about his death, until Senator Hilderman's widow received a phone call.

Hello? she said as she picked up the receiver.

Hi Mrs. Hilderman, my name is Anthony Pratchet with the Senate and House Life Insurance Company.  First off Ma'am, I would like to extend my condolences for the loss of your husband, we understand it was sudden and unexpected.  I am sure it was a great loss not only for your family, but for the country as well, the voice on the other end of the line said with compassion.

The Senate and House Life Insurance Company existed for one reason and one reason only.  They provided and managed life insurance policies for the entire upper echelon of the United States Government from the President to new Senators and Congressmen.  When you become a Senator or a member of Congress, you are visited by an underwriter asking you to sign your policy.  Nothing else is required for the insured to deal with.  They are insured for one hundred million dollars.

Estelle Hilderman was a little confused as she knew her husband’s Senate policy was already paid out and in the banks.  She didn't have time today to speak to anyone about performance satisfaction surveys, which she was sure this was about. 

Thank you very much, Mr. Pratchet, but let’s get right to the point, I am running a bit late this morning and cannot talk long.  If this is a survey, you will just have to call me at a later time, Estelle replied. 

This is not a survey Ma'am.  We have a slight issue concerning a secondary life insurance policy.  Our automated system has been attempting to deposit the funds from a secondary policy into the designated account in the Cayman Islands and it seems to be having some difficulties.  The deposit keeps getting kicked back to our offices.  I would like to set up an appointment with you to come down so we can reroute the deposit and try to rectify this issue, Pratchet told her.

We don't have an account in the Cayman Islands, Mr. Pratchet, responded Estelle, somewhat bewildered.

I beg your pardon, Ma'am, but you do.  The paperwork is sitting right here on the desk in front of me, he said to her.

There has to be some mistake, Mr. Pratchet, and I don’t have the time right now to go into this matter.  Hold on, I have my calendar here and it looks like I have a two hour window this afternoon starting at three that I can rearrange.  If that’s good for you, I can arrange to stop by, she said.

I can make it a good time, Mrs. Hilderman.  I will see you then, thank you.  Have a pleasant day, Anthony said and hung up.

Estelle hung up the phone and sat for a moment.  A secondary policy from the Senate and House Life Insurance Company just didn't make any sense.  She could not remember another policy her husband had from the Senate.  She had gone through the folder containing all of her late husband’s death paperwork just the day before to make sure she had not missed anything important and it was still on her desk in her study.  There were a total of four policies that had already been paid and closed out, but now it seems there may be a fifth one? 

It would have to wait until she got to the insurance agency’s office.  Setting an alarm for the appointment on her phone she left her house.  Circuit court was waiting.

~

Estelle Hilderman sat down at her desk and took a breath.  She was still concerned and confused over this additional insurance policy of her late husband and what it was all about, but had to set that aside for the time being.  She had waiting court business to attend to.  Being a district court judge was her life now and an insurance policy meeting had to be placed on the back burner.  She soon lost herself in her work.  Her phone alarm chimed surprising her a bit, reminding her of the meeting at the insurance office.

Gathering herself, she grabbed a protein bar from her desk drawer and headed to the street where she hailed a D.C. cab.  Settling into the back, she directed the driver to the offices of the Senate and House Life Insurance Company.  It was a fairly short ride with mellow instrumental music playing over the car speakers.  She closed her eyes, did a simple breathing exercise allowing her to decompress, relaxing just a bit while riding in the back of the cab. 

Mr. Pratchet was waiting for her at the front door.  Good afternoon, Mrs. Hilderman.  I am so sorry to have to call you down here like this.  Your case seems to be turning into a little bit of a mystery really.  As they began to walk to his office, Mr. Pratchet began to explain the details to her. 

I believe we can have this figured out in very short order, Mrs. Hilderman.  I have drawn up new paperwork that just needs to be signed and given a new destination, he explained.

Estelle sat at his desk and shook her head.  Mr. Pratchet, I was very aware of all my husband’s financial dealings.  I am actually fully in charge of all our personal finances.   My husband, although a very good senator, was not very good with the personal books.  My accounting background prepared me to run the household much more efficiently than he, and if I tell you that there was not another policy, then there was not another policy.  I’ve checked my files.  

Pratchet shook his head and looked out at the gallery floor where his secretary and the small staff of underwriters’ desks could be seen through the louvered shades.  He spotted Sherinn Haliman, his assistant who was responsible for traveling to the House or Senate to gather up all signatures that were required for any and all policies generated from this office.  Sher, can you come in here please? he called out.

Sherinn presented herself and sat in the offered seat next to the widow Hilderman.  Sherinn, you were the underwriter that produced the Senator’s paperwork, correct? he asked.

Yes Sir, she replied her Egyptian lilt light but still there.

Did the Senator sign the papers personally, including the secondary policy that was directed to the accounts in the Caymans? he asked.

He must have sir, she answered.

Pratchet produced the paperwork.  Is this his signature next to your witness signature? he asked.

It is sir.  Is there a problem with the document? she asked.

Yes, some, the automated system kicked it back to us.  There’s a problem with the Caymans account number, Pratchet said. 

Scanning the paperwork, Mrs. Hilderman asked, Why don't I have this paperwork in my files at home then?  I would not have let something like a ten million dollar policy slip through unnoticed. 

Sherinn leaned forward and looked at the policy.  See here on the original Ma'am.  Your husband checked the box of the paperwork reduction and conservation act.  The secondary policy would have been sent to him electronically for his own personal records.  Why it never came to your attention could have been a simple oversight. 

Really, I don't remember him even telling me about this though, Estelle remarked.

Mr. Pratchet took the paper from Sherinn.  Thank you, Sherinn.  I can see where he may have forgotten to tell you Mrs. Hilderman.  When an underwriter goes in to collect the signatures, it’s a very busy time in any of the new offices and I have heard that the underwriters are dealt with in a rushed manner, to put it lightly.  We have streamlined the process so it’s a really quick and hopefully totally forgettable process.  We know that the first couple of weeks on the hill are a very hectic time.  Besides, it’s a small box to check and I would bet that if you have his computer from back then, the notices would be in his saved files.  Thank you Sherinn, that will be all for now.  Something was bothering Anthony, something was not adding up, but for the sake of professionalism, he said nothing about it, yet. 

Sherinn got up with a nod and went back to her desk. 

So, I have drawn up a new cover sheet for the secondary policy that requires just your routing and account number to whichever bank account you wish to use, Mrs. Hilderman.  I will push this through with haste.  It’s your money and to be honest, this is the first time that this has happened that I can remember.  I feel very bad that we had to call you in like this, Pratchet said.

Estelle Hilderman took out her checkbook and copied down the routing number and bank account of where she wished to deposit the funds, all the while Pratchet had a sinking feeling and watched Sherinn from over his glasses.  Something was amiss, he could feel it.

With the papers signed and more apologizing, Estelle stood and gathered her things, placing the papers and putting them in her case.  She shook Pratchet’s hand and thanked him for his attention to everything and apologized for being such a pain in the neck. 

It’s me who needs to apologize, Mrs. Hilderman.  Even small issues like this, when you have just lost your loved one is difficult at best, he responded.

She nodded one last time and thanked him again.  As she walked out of his office, she looked at Sherinn and smiled.  Her smile was warmly returned. 

~

Sherinn covertly watched as the senator’s widow left, cursing herself inwardly.  This little snafu is ten million dollars that will not be funneled to the cause.  Now what?  She needed to get a message to Ali in the mountains, but she had noticed the look from Anthony.  Her cell phone rang. 

Hello, Mommy, how are you?  Yes, I am still coming over for dinner.  Shall I bring anything?  Do you need milk?  Ok.  I will.  Love you.  The conversation was quick and as Sherinn hung up with her mother, she opened a hidden app on her phone that would allow her to send an encrypted message to a covert dark web message board. 

Her reading glasses were specially outfitted with a lens at the top that refracted light allowing her to watch her boss while she appeared to be working on her computer.  Angling her head just right, she waited for him to look away.  She began a note.

Hilderman $ diverted, issue with Caymans #.  Lost this one.  Advise. Sending and closing took mere moments as she appeared to continue with her paperwork.  She would not check this mailbox again until she was out of the office.

Pratchet had serious issues with this last transaction.  He knew something was wrong the moment he saw the little utilized secondary insurance policy in Sherinn's hand, a hand that showed an almost imperceptible shake.  She was hiding something, but he didn't know what.  The secondary policy was a rider that not everyone opted for and he had not known why this would cause her to have a case of the jitters. 

He had been in the army and had served in the intelligence branch and had his fill of all that by the time his service was done.  But old habits die hard and he knew when someone was deceiving him.  Estelle had been truthful to him to the extent of her knowledge, Sherinn on the other hand had not been.

The Hilderman paper-work was completed and filed.  The conclusion was the money would be in the proper place by the end of the day.  He began to wonder about the other secondary policies that had been quietly filed through this office.  As the office manager he had the clearance to delve into the system so he did.  He searched back to every policy that this office had originated since July of 2004 which had this smaller secondary insurance policy, one that until Senator Hilderman’s policy had issues with, he was unaware was even available anymore. 

He also knew that Sherinn had been hired in June of 2003 but had not been handling the paperwork for the capital until July of 2004.  In his book, two and two make four.  Since then, 2349 policies had been filed with 704 policies being collected on.  When the secondary policy was automatically enacted upon, filed, paid and distributed to an account in the Caymans in July’ 04, the dollar amount came to 7,040,000 U.S. dollars heading to the Caymans to date. 

Anthony realized he had broken out in a cold sweat when he saw who the underwriter had been on every policy.  He played it cool and did not look up from his computer.

~

Anthony began looking very thoroughly at the policies that had been paid out.  Every paid out policy had a copy of the death certificate attached.  There were none that caught his eye as being suspicious for all the senators who had been older or retired, except the one that had died in a hunting accident, but that had been from a ricochet from his own shot.  The coroners had not been the same, the natural causes were not listed, but old age can come with so many different ailments that natural causes was a broad spectrum designation for no real reason for death other than, 'he was old, he died.'

Senator Hilderman’s autopsy report and death certificate copies were there.  Other than being a bit overweight, he was in fairly good condition.  His heart showed no disease or blockages.  His liver and one kidney were in good shape.  Nothing but natural causes was the reason for this man’s death.  But still Pratchet was uneasy, realizing almost every autopsy was identical.  This was a dead end, metaphorically speaking. 

He decided to take the afternoon off for his own investigative purposes, away from the office’s prying eyes.  There were calls he wanted to make and one person in particular he needed to get in contact with.  What he planned might be illegal in a sense, but he needed to do it.

He connected to his home computer remotely from the office and started a remote session.  When he finished with that, he set his home and office computer to stealth and covert mode.  It was something he didn't like using.  Up until this moment he had trusted everyone in the office under his supervision.  Although his bosses had insisted on installing the keystroke recording software, he had yet to use it.  But he felt now was a good time to start.  This program utilized the two cameras on the P.C., one for conference skyping and one that was hidden and aimed towards the outer office. 

He seemingly shut down the computer which would keep the screen dark while the camera ran without the little red light to show it was in use.  He stood, grabbed his windbreaker and stepped out of his office after turning off the lights.  I have a doctor’s appointment, Sherinn.  Would you close up for me today please? he asked her.

Sure thing, Mr. Pratchet, is everything ok? she asked.

I think so, just a checkup.  It’s that time of year again for certain, well, male specific checks. Anthony said with a shy smile.

But you’re not even fifty sir, she countered.

Well, with my father having his issues, I figured I should be checked.  The doctor found something that we are watching soooo... he lied very well and with his father being in Portland, there was not much chance that she would check up on him to figure it out.

I didn't know that.  Well I hope everything turns out ok, Sherinn said with a smile.

Thank you, if it’s slow, you can all knock off early for the weekend, Anthony told her.

The staff all looked up and smiled and all expressed their thanks.  He was a good boss who didn't believe in riding his people or haranguing them unnecessarily, and a comment was made that he was really living up to his ‘best boss ever’ coffee mug. 

He smiled as the office staff laughed at the small joke.

~

Once outside Anthony flipped his phone open and dialed his friend Arthur.

Arthur answered on the first ring, Yello!

Arthur, it’s Anthony, I need your help.  Can you bring Ace over to my place as soon as possible? he asked.

Anthony, that’s risky to bring that out of the box. You remember what’s on there?  Arthur asked.

I remember full well buddy, but there is something I need to find out and honestly, I need the skills inherent with that computer and in particular, you, Pratchet responded.

Ok, when will you be home?

I am hoofing it, so let’s say I’ll be at my apartment in about half an hour.  I'll stop for pizza and beer and meet you there.  You still have a key?

Yup, see ya there, oh!  I want anchovies, Arthur said.

No way, they ruin the pizza! He responded and hung up.  Well then, he will get two pizzas, he knew what his old roommate liked.  He dialed the number for 'Pop’s Pizza' and placed an order.

CHAPTER TWO

Anthony walked the four blocks heading for his apartment and stopped at the corner to pick up the pizzas and a six pack of beer.  Arthur was already there with paper plates set out and was overjoyed when he saw the hot pepper and anchovy pizza from Pops. 

You still love me, don't cha! Arthur said jokingly.

Shut up and eat.  Let me check my office computer.  He grabbed a bite of his pizza and opened his laptop.  It was still early, three in the afternoon but the only one still in the office was Sherinn.  She appeared to be shutting down her P.C. and getting ready to leave.

Man, she is beautiful, Tony.  Are you tappin that or what? Arthur asked.

No, I tried to ask her out once but she shut me down quickly, cited work place restrictions and religious doctrine.  She thanked me for the invitation though, Anthony responded.

Too bad, wait, what’s she doing? Arthur asked.

Sherinn got up and locked the front office door and sat behind Anthony's desk.  She was alone in the office, being bold and deliberate in her actions.  His office computer came out of sleep mode at her command and seemed to reboot itself.  She checked what he looked at last and when she saw what he had been investigating, she scowled a bit.  Then she brought up the calculator.  He saw that she saw the amount of money he had calculated earlier. 

Shit! she said softly. 

You have the sound on too?  Nice.  But it looks like she has an additional keystroke program running on your computer, Tony.  That’s not cool, Arthur said.

Not cool at all.  Let’s see where she goes with this, Anthony commented.

They watched as she stared at the screen for a few moments.  She leaned back in his chair, biting her lower lip, trying to figure out what to do.  Sherinn knew he was onto something but she also knew that he hadn't figured it all out just yet.  She would wait and see what happens over the weekend, but in the meantime there was something she could do.

Leaning forward, she began to unbutton her blouse. 

Arthur leaned forward a little.  What do we have here, hmmm? 

She opened her shirt to mid chest exposing her lacy pink bra and attractive cleavage.  She reached in and pulled out a very small USB jump drive and plugged it into the computer’s interface.  Once the computer saw it, she hit open and a program began scrolling past their eyes, both at the office and at the apartment. 

Arthur had a mouth full of pizza.  He stopped chewing and sat wide eyed, staring at the script scrolling by. 

Dude, do you know what that is? Arthur whispered.

No.

They watched for another few seconds as the program finished downloading.  She pulled the USB jump drive and placed it in her bra once again then buttoned up.

That was a very sophisticated hack program she downloaded to your computer dude.  And it wasn't in English!  Arthur said.

Erasing her activity on the computer, Sherinn stood and walked around the desk.  Arthur quickly reached in to change the angle of the camera to the one facing the door.  He obviously enjoyed the view.  She might be doing something not altogether kosher, but man! he said appreciably.

You are so juvenile.  What the hell is she up to?  Anthony wondered