Delta #2
“I registered with an adoption registry that helps to facilitate reunions between birth parents and the children they put up for adoption by using DNA samples. Brandon searched and found me a few years ago.” She pulled at her zip ties, uncomfortable.
“Look, can you cut us loose? We’re not going to attack you or anything, and we need to administer another dose of flumazenil to help counter the klonopin. His vitals aren’t rebounding.”
“I can get that. I’m a medic,” Rogers said. “Where is it?”
She nodded at the cabinet. “In there. The vial is on the right with the syringe I used to draw the first dose I gave him. Just before you came in, I administered two milliliters.”
“Does he need Narcan?”
“No, that was administered at the morgue and on the plane. The doctor in Minneapolis determined it’s the klonopin that’s the problem,” Tom said.
Everyone watched as Rogers retrieved the vial and syringe from the cabinet. He drew two more milliliters and then injected the medication into the injection port in the cannula in his right hand.
“We’re not a threat to you,” Tom Butler said. “You can release us. We’re not going to do anything. You have my word.”
Wilson shook his head. “Sorry, not quite yet. Answer a few more questions first.”
“Is this Jessica Rosenthal real, or was that just a story to get us here?” Burke asked.
“Yes, she’s real and she filled out that online form and disappeared.”
“This is about more than getting a message to her, isn’t it?" Tessman asked.
“Yes,” Valerie said. “We need to find her so she can talk to Brandon and convince him to go with her. She was his stepmom, and wherever she is, is the only place he’ll be safe from his dad. I don’t know how you do it, get people new identities, but Brandon needs one too.”
All four of the team stared at her in stunned silence.
“Mark Ellison is dangerous,” Tom said. “Those weapons are his. Everything in those storerooms is his. This is a depot of his prepper supplies for his merry little band of paranoid weirdos who are getting ready for the civil war they’re sure is coming.”
“He’s blackmailed us into keeping his little stockpile,” Valerie added.
“That still doesn’t explain why this man is sedated,” Rogers said.
“It had to look like he died from a drug overdose, and to convince Mark, his respirations and heart rate had to be next to nothing. A doctor friend of mine in Minneapolis helped. A nurse was on that flight, administering Narcan and flumazenil to reverse both drugs, but as we said, he had an adverse reaction, and he didn’t rebound as he was expected to.
The flight time was less than an hour, and we were confident we could get him revived once he was safely here and away from Minneapolis. ”
“Isn’t Mark Ellison going to know something’s wrong when his son’s body is gone?”
“Administrative screw-up, sending the wrong body to the crematorium from the hospital morgue,” Tom said. “And by the time Mark Ellison realizes it, that wrong body would already have been cremated.”
“And he agreed to this?” Rogers asked, pointing at the unconscious man, whose vitals were looking better since the last dose of flumazenil.
Valerie and Tom exchanged stares again. “Not exactly,” Valerie finally said.
“He agreed to listen to our plan to get him away from his father, but didn’t commit to doing it.
Breaking free from an overbearing and abusive parent isn’t easy.
He’s been fed lies from his father his entire life.
His father told him from a young age that I gave him up because I didn’t want him.
His father was livid when he found out that Brandon had tracked me down and we’d met.
That’s how Mark came back into my life, with a threat and a demand to store his shit or he’d make sure I never saw Brandon again, threatened to kill Tom too. ”
“Let me see if I understand this. Jessica Rosenthal is Mark’s wife, Brandon’s stepmother,” Burke began.
“She was in the middle of divorcing Mark. She’d left him and went to stay with her sister in Detroit because Mark went too far with his extremist views and that scared Jessica. She’s a good person, was a good stepmother to Brandon,” Valerie said.
“And even with her leaving, Brandon doesn’t believe you about his father?” Wilson asked.
“It’s complicated,” Tom said. “Brandon doesn’t know everything Mark is into, and Mark has made Brandon an accomplice in a crime to scare him into submission. Yes, he knows his father isn’t one of the good guys, but he didn’t agree to play dead so he could break free.”
“So you made the decision for him,” Tessman said.
“We did what we had to, to get him away from his father. The only way this ends for Brandon is getting killed for his father’s warped delusions or going to prison for a very long time.
I couldn’t protect myself from Mark Ellison, but I’ll be damned if I sit back and not protect my son now that I can,” Valerie stated emphatically.
“And if after all this he doesn’t agree to disappear, and he returns to his father?” Burke asked.
“Then I guess Tom and I are the ones who will need to disappear,” Valerie said.
Burke made brief eye contact with Wilson. Wilson turned his back to the exam room. “Are you still on the line, Control, and did you get all that?”
“Affirmative,” Yvette’s voice came through every man’s comms. “I pulled up the mission report and can confirm the Jessica Rosenthal case.”
“Thanks, Control. I’m going to call MP and see if there was more to the Rosenthal story,” Wilson said.
“Roger that. I’ll put a rush on the info regarding the rest of their story with the Digital Team for you. Smith is handling this. He’ll get back in touch with you directly as soon as he has anything. And I’ll notify Big Bear of the situation. I’m dropping off now,” Yvette said.
“Thanks, Control,” Wilson said. He turned back.
“So, who do you treat at this clinic?” Rogers asked.
“That’s another part of Mark’s blackmail. His group often has wounded members who need to be treated outside of regular medical centers.”
“How do they get injured?” Tessman asked.
“We don’t ask,” Tom said. “We just treat their wounds.”
“What kind of wounds?” Burke asked.
Tom frowned. “Mostly GSWs, stabbings, sometimes severe beatings.”
“We’ve treated a few sexual assaults too,” Valerie added.
The four men from Shepherd Security were surprised by their statements.
“How long has this been going on?” Wilson asked.
“Just over two years,” Valerie said.
“And you never thought about calling the authorities?” Wilson asked.
“Thought about it every day,” Valerie said.
“Why didn’t you?” Burke asked.
“Because we don’t want to be killed,” Tom Butler said as though it was obvious. “We have no idea how many are in this militia or how connected they are. We could be reporting them directly to someone in the group.”
“Either way, this is over now, and the proper authorities will be called in. You asked who we are. We’re a multi-agency task force, FBI, ATF, and DEA,” Wilson said as he drew his DEA badge and creds. He left out Rogers’s CIA designation.
“But the form, was it legit? Was it a trap?” Valerie stuttered.
“It’s legit. And we’re here to help you,” Rogers said.
“Cut them loose,” Wilson ordered. “I’m going to call MP to confirm the Jessica Rosenthal story. Moe, secure the back door you came in through.” He stepped away from the room and paced back towards the front office as Tessman hurried to the back hallway.
Burke went over to Valerie Butler and cut the zip tie, freeing her hands.
“His vitals look much better,” Rogers said as Valerie stepped over to the exam table. “Let’s try to awaken him.”
Rogers made a fist and rubbed it hard against the unconscious man’s chest. “Wake up, come on, buddy, wake up.”
“Brandon, wake up,” Valerie chimed in.
He stirred and came to a semiconscious state.
He was disoriented but recognized Valerie and addressed her by name.
Burke wandered into the warehouse and tapped out a text message as he stood near the hood of the white SUV.
He could hear Wilson’s end of the conversation from where he stood at the back of the vehicle.
“Yes, if you’d reach out to her and verify the story ASAP, that would help determine our next move,” Wilson said. He listened to the conversation on the phone and stared at Burke. “Thanks, Woods.” Then he disconnected the call.
Burke walked to where Wilson stood. “I sent the additional info on the blackmail and injuries they treat here to Control. She’ll get it to both Smith and Big Bear.”
“Thanks,” Wilson said. He nodded towards the treatment room. “What do you think?”
“It’s elaborate if it’s a lie, which means it was prepared ahead of time,” Burke said. “She didn’t come up with all that on the fly.”
“No, she didn’t. And her husband and the other woman’s faces didn’t show surprise at anything she said,” Wilson agreed as Tessman stepped up to them.
“So that means there is a private militia operating up here,” Burke said.
“That explains the supplies in those storerooms,” Tessman said. “I have the back door secured.”
Wilson nodded.
“Do we try to infiltrate the militia? Brandon Ellison could help us with that,” Tessman said.
“No longer our mission,” Wilson said. “We work through what we have in front of us and get it turned over to the authorities.”
“When did that change?” Burke asked.
“I just changed it. This is bigger than anyone thought when we were given that part of the assignment. A lot more man power than the four of us is going to be needed to investigate this. I’m sure Big Bear will back me up on it,” Wilson said.
Burke chuckled. “You’re determined to have this wrapped up and get home by Christmas.”
“This is my first Christmas with Rae and Lilly. Unless something life-threatening goes down needing our team, I’d like to be there. This,” he said, his arm waving around the warehouse, “isn’t immediately life-threatening. It’ll keep for the feds to sort out, which I think will take them a while.”
Burke nodded. “They have the manpower. We don’t.”
“Okay, we get the Ellison kid in touch with his stepmom to talk some sense into him, get his agreement to cooperate, and then call the feds in and leave this mess in their laps.”
“Sounds good to me,” Burke said.
“And if Big Bear doesn’t agree?” Tessman asked.
“Then I guess we’re all going to miss Christmas this year,” Wilson said.
The three men walked back into the treatment room. The kid on the table was looking more alert. Valerie Butler was just telling him what had happened and where he was. She also told him that they were federal agents.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Brandon Ellison erupted with more energy than anyone would have thought he had in him. “Do you have any idea how livid my father is going to be about this?”
“He won’t know,” Valerie said.
“He’s smarter than you’re giving him credit for. He’s not going to buy an accidental fentanyl overdose. Not after Jessica dropped off the face of the Earth. He was just getting ready to get her when she disappeared. Did you know that?” He waited a moment.
Valerie must have taken it as a rhetorical question, as she didn’t answer.
“He was going to go and drag her back to the compound in Minnesota and lock her up there like a disobedient child,” Brandon said.
Burke couldn’t tell if he was appalled by it or if he agreed with his father. “And certainly, you know that he would have been very wrong to do that. She had the right to leave him and go wherever she wanted to,” Burke said.
“Well, yeah,” Brandon agreed. “What I’m saying is that he knew where she was. She couldn’t hide from him.”
“She got out with our help,” Wilson said.
“You can too,” Burke added.
Brandon shook his head. “He has people everywhere. There is no way you got me out without someone knowing and reporting it back to him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was already on his way here.”
Burke judged that the kid was scared.
“Valerie, has Mark Ellison contacted you yet to tell you your son is dead?”
“No, and I doubt he will anytime soon. If Brandon’s gone, Mark knows he will lose most of the leverage over me, over us,” Valerie said.
“Brandon, how involved are you in this militia?” Wilson asked.
He nervously glanced at the four men and then back at Valerie. “Involved enough to know what my father’s capable of. He’s on his way here. I guarantee it.”
“We clear out, now!” Wilson ordered. He threw the car keys to Burke.
“Bring it up to the garage door. Moe, you’re with him.
Powder, get him into the white SUV.” He pointed to Ellison.
Then he turned to the woman who’d been in the front office.
“How did you get here?” There was no other vehicle in the warehouse parking lot, and they knew she hadn’t come with the Butlers.
“I walked. I live two blocks from here.”
“Get in the back seat of the SUV.” He pointed to the vehicle.
“Can I get my purse first? It’s in the office.”
“Make it fast,” Wilson said.