Dead Love

57



The hospital beds were filled in the isolation unit at All Saints Hospital. Several of the staff members weren’t feeling well. They were being tested for the virus, lab results pending. They were in the isolation unit.

Dr. Grant had been on the phone with Dr. Ambrose. Grant knew that they weren’t the only facility dealing with the virus. The CDC tracked pandemics, and from their statistics, most hard hit would be the highly populated areas. It was too soon to gauge the spread of this outbreak.

Jim Lucas was making sure that the staff was being rotated with many resting in the lounges between shifts. The numerous disaster drills had paid off. Everyone was working at optimum level, and the professional atmosphere was beyond reproach. But there was an undercurrent of unexpressed fear.

Thank God people were heeding the Mayor’s request for calm, so far. New Yorkers took most things in stride and were doing what was necessary to handle an unusual situation. Some were skeptics and felt invulnerable. They had survived 9/11 and refused to let out of the ordinary occurrences rattle them. There was the occasional patient that arrived in an anxious state but most remained calm. They were being kept for observation and were comfortable staying at the hospital, “in case.” But to most New Yorkers, it was just another day in the Big Apple.

Lucas was following the news and had heard about the Century Air flight that was cancelled in Miami. It was the same plane that had two sick flight attendants, leaving one at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore and the other hospitalized in Miami. Apparently the captain had made the decision at the last minute to cancel the flight.

“What the hell,” thought Jim, “This whole thing is getting out of hand.”

He was worn out and prayed his hospital could get through this crisis. The practice drills and instructions were all well and good, but reality is never so simple. He had spoken with several other hospital administrators in Manhattan, and they were getting buried with new patients, some legitimately sick, others needing observation, many just frightened. If this was the beginning, where was it going to end?

His phone rang. “Yes, Dave. What is it?”

“I’m sick, Jim.”

“Are you in your office?” Jim asked.

“Yes, I am going over to isolation. Frank knows. Call Vicki, please. I think she needs to know. Tell her to stay home with the girls. They are not to go out under any circumstances. Also, tell Chris. She is with a patient. Take care of her, Jim. She has been exposed, also. Keep her away from me—do you understand? You need to lock down the hospital. Take care, Jim.”

“Yes, Dave.” Jim heard Dave start coughing and the phone disconnect.

“Oh my God,” he thought. “We are so f*cked.”

He was checking his contact list, looking for Dave’s home number. As it was ringing, he felt the rush of cool air blowing on him, and he looked up at the vent directly above his desk. His stomach tightened in fear.


58



Mike Ryan was glad to hear the announcement that schools were closed as a precaution. Summer vacation was starting next week anyway. He wanted his boys at home, safe and sound, and Annie was available to babysit if he could get in to see Maggie tomorrow.

He was sick of listening to the repetitive news coverage and wasn’t sure what to believe. He hoped this was an isolated event, but he was realistic. The Mayor underplayed it, but it was a big deal. As a scientist, he knew the dangers and possibilities, but tried not to go to the “what ifs.” He would keep calm for his boys, and he would be there for them. He would do everything that Maggie would want him to do. He was praying hard and had faith that God would take care of his beautiful wife and their baby. They had talked about wanting another baby, hoping for a little girl. He was shocked but happy to learn that she was pregnant. His feelings were so mixed up. All he cared about was Maggie.

He wondered how Terry was doing. She was a good friend of Maggie’s and the fact that she was in the hospital in Miami was more than troubling. “What does all this mean?” he wondered.

The news continued to be disturbing. More cases of the avian influenza virus were being reported, not just in New York City, but in Miami as well. He hoped and prayed this epidemic wasn’t out of control, but he had sufficient reason to doubt. This bug was new and unpredictable. Its airborne characteristic made it even more dangerous. He hoped the CDC would find answers soon, but his main concern was for Maggie and the safety of their boys.

He was restless and eager to meet the boys after school and walk them home. They could stop by the deli and bring home sandwiches, potato salad, and snacks. He knew they would have plenty of questions, wanting to see their mom. He hoped he could keep his composure and be reassuring. Not just about Maggie, but about the subway attack. It scared the hell out of him. That would not be easy to hide. He would make sure Annie kept the boys inside. He checked the website about pandemics and found information about face masks and recommendations, including stocking up on supplies. He would stop at the market on the way home, also, and pick up some extra groceries. In case.


59



Georgiana followed Chen and Adams into the refrigerated vaccine storage room. A large storage container appeared to be improperly sealed. Dr. Adams explained that all the vaccine containers were marked with certain code numbers, which defined the vaccines. George and Suzy stood quietly by as Eric cross checked the code numbers.

He said, looking at the list, “This vaccine is not on the list. The container number is correct, but the number on each storage vial is different. These particular numbers don’t appear to be anywhere on this list.”

Suzy, apparently perplexed, responded, “Let’s look at all the containers and see if we can get some sort of ID from them. Perhaps someone mistakenly marked these or moved a storage container.”

Neither Suzy nor Eric believed that was possible. They were searching carefully through the large storage container, wearing sterile gloves, trying to find a label that would identify the mysterious vaccine. This room was used infrequently, only as vaccines were needed. Most were for rare contagious diseases, such as polio, smallpox, and others.

Adams looked frantically for some confirmation of the contents of this container. This one had no known origin or label, but someone in the lab must have knowledge of this. How could this mix up be accounted for? Eric had no idea and was perplexed that he had missed this.

Trying to remain calm, Adams said, “Indeed, this is quite remarkable.”

He was looking deep inside the container, and then, on a boldly printed sticker, were the letters and numbers: H5N1. It was a large container, and in it were possibly innumerable doses of vaccine.

As the realization of what he may have found hit him, he turned to Dr. Chen and said, “What do you make of this?” He was clearly incredulous at the discovery.

Suzy reacted, “I have no idea,” and she seemed shocked as well.

George said, “Let’s check for fingerprints,” though George knew that was highly unlikely.

The forensics scientists would have to check out exactly what was in the vials. They would get the CDC to help as well. George didn’t want the Edgewood staff to be involved any further. Her bullshit meter was off scale.

George had been watching Chen and Adams very carefully, and her instincts were on high alert, big time. She wanted Dr. Ambrose here, or someone from the CDC, to oversee the work of his staff. The FBI needed to begin the interrogation process of the Edgewood department heads, specifically Chen and Adams, and others who might provide evidence as this situation was becoming more complex. She had ordered background checks on all those who worked at Edgewood and hoped something would stick out and give them a lead.

George stepped out of the room and called Ambrose on his cell phone.

“Yes, Agent Reed?” She explained the situation, and he said, “I’ll arrange to send extra staff there immediately.”

“The most experienced chemists from the CDC and FBI are needed to analyze the vials to determine if it is indeed the H5N1 vaccine,” thought George. “How the hell did it get there, if it was actual H5N1 vaccine? Was it somehow connected to the perpetrator or perpetrators of the terror attack? How brilliant but also an anomaly. What kind of desperate insanity would result in such action? There were many twists in this bizarre event, but George was determined to figure them out. If this was vaccine, it must be determined quickly. How many lives might be saved?” Her thoughts were scattered.

George’s cell phone rang. It was Jim Berger, one of the forensic techs who had been examining the stored vials of H5N1. He had stepped out of the viral storage room and removed his biohazard gear to place the call.

“Yes, Berger. What have you got?”

He responded, “We checked out the H5N1 vials, and after examination, we discovered one of the vials is empty.”

George said, “Are you sure?”

He said, “Yep, and the Edgewood lab guy confirmed it. He was pretty upset to say the least. Guess he came to the same conclusion I did.”

George said, “That the perp could be someone he works with and trusts, right?”

“Yep,” he said.

“Great job, Berger. Can you bag the evidence safely?”

“Done,” he responded.

“I want the room sealed and guarded. Got it?”

Yes, ma’am,” he said, pleased with the discovery.


60



Suzy didn’t get to her condo until after dark. It had been an exhausting day. The FBI interrogation was thorough. Suzy had been released, but they were still talking to Adams. Suzy had not requested an attorney, but Eric had called his immediately. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but as head of the department, he knew that if anyone was going to be held responsible, he would be the target, no matter what evidence, if any, was found.

From the news reports she heard when driving home, Suzy knew that the virus was spreading. She had done everything the Organization had required of her, and she hoped they lived up to their agreement. They didn’t know about the vaccine she had manufactured, and she hoped they wouldn’t. The Organization had provided a large sum of cash for her mother and father, the roundtrip airplane tickets to Hong Kong, and all documents necessary to allow Lee to enter the United States. Suzy hoped she had covered her tracks well enough that nothing could be linked to her. The Organization had promised protection.

“Max will be here soon,” Suzy thought.

All she had to hold on to was Max and the thoughts of her parents and Lee. Seeing him was dangerous, but she couldn’t say no. She needed him and the comfort of his loving arms. If only for one last time. For his protection, she must tell him nothing, only that there is an investigation. Nothing more.

She touched the garage door opener and pulled in, parking her Lexus in its usual spot. She grabbed her purse and briefcase, opened the car door, and stepped out. The silent figure slipped into the garage, crept up to her car, two feet behind Suzy, and placed the muzzle of his BerettaTomcat .32 ACP, loaded with hot FMJ rounds, at the base of her skull and fired one crisp, clean shot into her brain stem. She fell instantly onto the concrete, her purse and briefcase scattering, her legs askew, one black high heel resting near her small stockinged foot.

The figure slipped out, undetected, hidden in the darkness behind her condo. He reached the street and began a light jog, looking casual, just another jogger out for his evening run, in black baggy running shorts and lightweight gray nylon jacket. The Tomcat was invisible in the palm of his hand. The passive surveillance tracking device he had placed on her Lexus several months ago had paid off. He smiled.


61



Megan Evans, the charge nurse, was checking Joey’s IV. He was in the military hospital at Edgewood Medical in isolation and on a ventilator. He had pneumonia, high fever, and unstable vital signs. The anti-viral medications were so far ineffective. Though young and healthy, Joey had a high exposure volume of the toxic virus. His prognosis was bleak. Megan was worried, having never seen patients reach such a severe stage of infection so quickly.

Captain Sanders was the attending physician in charge of Joey’s treatment as well as the other stricken members of the subway crew. They were all struggling with fevers and acute respiratory symptoms. Marty, Joey’s boss, was extremely ill with pneumonia. Sanders had never seen or heard of such a virulent strain as this H5N1. Onset was sudden, and the duration of the infection was unpredictable. He had spoken to Dr. Ambrose from the CDC, but Ambrose had no definitive answers regarding duration or incubation period of this particular mutated strain of the avian flu virus.

Sanders walked into the isolation ward and spoke to the unit clerk, Barb. She smiled a hello, and he sat down next to her, looking at the computer screen, reading the patients’ charts. His concerns were growing. Megan had recorded their recent vital signs, and they were unstable. Joey was worsening rapidly. The anti-viral medications had not helped, and Sanders was running out of treatment options.

Sanders walked over to Megan, and asked, “What do you think?

Megan responded, “It doesn’t look good.”

Sanders said, “Let’s get the families on the phone. Damn, I hate making these calls.”

Megan looked up and said, “Are you going to have them come here?”

She was worried about the contagion, even for herself, but she tried to hide her fears. She didn’t feel the families should be near this facility, in spite of the imminent deaths of their loved ones.

“It will be their decision, but they need to know the status. Please ask Barb to get them on the phone. Joey’s family first.”

Megan knew, just from the obvious physical signs, that it wouldn’t be long. Dr. Sanders was facing some tough phone calls, but the families were facing far worse.

Suddenly, a loud beeping noise came from the monitor next to Joey’s bed.

Sanders said to Megan, “He’s coding! Get the cart. Stat!”

Megan grabbed the cart, and she and the other nurse rushed to his bedside. Joey was in cardiac arrest.

They administered drugs into Joey’s IV to stimulate his heart, and Sanders began CPR, but it was futile.

“Damn!” said Sanders under his breath.


62



Wally speculated, “Could be a shadow terrorist cell pulling all the strings.”

Wally, George, and Mark were in one of the vans in the parking lot, discussing the interrogations. Dr. Adams was still being held inside the lab, but they had released Chen. She seemed to have little to contribute, and her laptop was clean. Adams denied any knowledge of the incriminating e-mail. He was nearly out of control with rage and indignation. Adams was asked to remain in his office, not charged, at least not yet.

Mark said to Wally, “Somehow, I don’t think Adams is lying. That’s my gut.”

“But what about the e-mail draft on his laptop?” asked George. “‘Mission accomplished. You will be wearing diamonds very soon, my love.’ That is concrete evidence in my book,” she said.

Wally, sucking down another cup of stale coffee, said, “I hear you. Maybe a ‘dead drop?”

He paused, wondering who picked it up. Then Wally asked, “Mark, your take?”

They were all exhausted and felt they were close but missing something.

Mark said, “It is strong evidence, plus the H5N1 decoy. He could have done that or someone else inside. We can hold him, but I think someone with access could have gotten to his laptop and set him up. We need to find the person intended to pick it up, if anyone. It was ‘dropped’ today.”

Wally said, “Inside, definitely. Whoever had access to his computer, but we need to take him into custody, right now. Everything points to him, period, and until we find other evidence, this bastard isn’t leaving our sight.”

“Hank found nothing unusual on the video showing Chen receive the H5N1 delivery and place it in storage,” stated George. “At least nothing obvious. He is going to examine every video carefully from the night of the delivery to present.”

“Something f*cking happened, assuming all the vials were present and accounted for, as Chen said,” said Wally.

“She had military escorts,” said George, wondering how and when the exchange could have occurred.

Mark had been watching George, his eyes on her lips when she spoke. He wanted to kiss her, among other things. Damn. She still looked beautiful, after this exhausting day. Her long red hair, pantsuit, nothing out of place. Mark was distracted. He was going to take her to a late dinner when they could get away, even if only for an hour. He sensed something between them, and he often felt her looking at him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Wally and George were still trying to make sense of all of the evidence when George’s cell phone rang.

She picked up the call. “Georgiana Reed here.” She paused. “Oh shit, oh my God.” She got out of the van and started pacing. “Did they get him? You are shitting me. F*ck!”

“I assume you are still looking for the shooter,” she stated. “Yes, go in and toss the place from cellar to attic. I think we might find some missing pieces. Thanks.” George hung up.

Mark and Wally had stopped talking; both staring at George.

“Chen’s dead. We had a tail on her, and after she pulled into her garage, she didn’t go into her house, and our guys got suspicious when her car door remained ajar so they checked it out. They found Chen dead, one shot, back of the head. It looks like a professional hit. There were footprints near the garage entrance. The killer had a head start, but they are searching the area.”

“F*cking A” said Wally.

All were still, and then Wally said, “A loose end, maybe.”


63



George and Mark had gotten to the condo as fast as they could. Wally stayed at the lab with the task force. The day had been grueling, and they were tired and hungry. But they wanted to see everything firsthand. Chen’s condominium was cordoned off with yellow tape and lots of flashing lights. Neighbors were standing in their driveways but couldn’t get past the police barricades near Suzy’s place.

“What have you found?” were the first words out of George’s mouth when she spoke to Don Patterson, lead guy at the scene. He knew they were coming and was waiting at the curb when they pulled up in Mark’s Mustang. Don was tall and slender, African American, all business. He explained what had been found. The manila envelope with the photos, the cryptic message, and Dr. Chen’s personal laptop, bagged and ready to be taken to the FBI lab. Her S&W .38 J frame was also part of the evidence.

“Anything on the footprints?” Mark asked.

“Nope, not yet. Looks like a man’s jogging shoes. He ran through the back, same way he came in.” He gestured toward the right side of the garage. “We’ll try to do a match, but the shoe is an average size and a common style,” he answered. “No trace of him. The ground is dry, nothing on the pavement on the streets behind her place, but we found something more interesting downstairs.”

George said, “Lead the way.” She and Mark followed him inside, careful to not touch anything. George and Mark were looking around, admiring the beautiful décor. It was immaculate, as well. They could see the kitchen, very modern, and yet it appeared warm and frequently used. They took the stairs to the basement, following Don.

The “basement” was actually a carpeted game room, with casual, comfortable furniture, a flat screen TV on an antique console, end tables with tall burnished silver-based lamps, and several numbered prints, all large, modernistic of bright sweeping colors. A powder room with shower was in the far corner, near the small laundry room, which was hidden behind louvered doors. Nearby was what appeared to be a closet, with yellow tape across it. The “closet” was the jewel.

“Don, what’s in the closet?” asked George. She assumed it housed the furnace and air-conditioning.

“It’s a small but well-equipped laboratory. No one can enter until forensics checks it out. They are on their way. They will need to wear protective suits, in case,” and he nodded his head.

George understood and said to Mark, “This may be one of the missing pieces.”

Mark said nothing. He just kept looking around, trying to digest everything that had happened.

He said, “Clever girl.”

“We assume you have some background on Chen,” George stated.

“Yes, but not what you might think,” he added. “The NCS has had her on their watch list for a little over a month. Nothing has occurred out of the ordinary. She has been involved with a certain Army Lieutenant Colonel Maxwell Graham, West Point grad, special service chief to the Joint Chiefs of Staff, a straight arrow. He reported some findings to a friend of his, a fellow West Point grad, Greg Hammond, who works for the NCS. Dr. Chen had full security clearance and excellent credentials. We had no reason to suspect her, and our surveillance has been steady but never came up with anything. Colonel Graham has been watching her, let’s say, very closely.” He raised his eyebrows. “They have been hot and heavy since January, this year.”

He continued, “From the NCS investigation, we know that Chen also had previous involvement with Adams. It ended badly. She caught him with his pants down, banging some broad— excuse me, Agent Reed. I guess he paid Chen off with a promotion to assistant director of Edgewood Labs. There were two others in line for the position ahead of Dr. Chen, but she was proven capable and apparently had received several notable mentions in scientific journals for her work.”

“This gets more and more interesting,” George said.

“Here’s another angle. Her mother, a native of China, Rose Lee Chen, met and eventually married an American chemistry professor. They met in Hong Kong. He was there on business, consulting for a major chemical manufacturer headquartered there. He brought his wife and her daughter, Suzy, back to the US. Her adoptive father is a professor at the University of Delaware, and her mother is a pianist, having taught piano in Beijing before being allowed to move to Hong Kong. Rose’s first husband, Suzy’s biological father, died in a labor camp in China when she was a baby.

“Rose’s husband, Dr. Robert Thompson, adopted Suzy and loves her as his own. He is unaware that there is another child, a twin sister. Rose was only allowed to have one child under Chinese law. The Chinese authorities took her other daughter and placed her in a government orphanage. She is Suzy’s identical twin. She only learned about her twin sister, Lee, this past year. Lee is living in Beijing, surviving as a prostitute. We don’t know exactly how or when Suzy learned this.”

“Interesting and puzzling,” said George.

“There’s more,” said Don. “A Swiss bank account, ten million US seems to have some tie to Dr. Chen.”

“Okay,” George was impatient. “Whose name’s on it?”

“No name. Just a number.”


64



Lee didn’t understand what Lou E was saying.

“Please explain,” she pleaded.

“We must hurry, Lee, before the other girls awaken,” was all he would say. Tears were flooding down her sculptured face, her eyes reddened and swollen from crying. He had knocked on her door very early and then entered her room, carrying a large black nylon suitcase. He placed it open, on the foot of her bed. He started filling it with her belongings from the rattan dresser drawers and her small closet.

She continued, “What have I done wrong?”

As she kept asking him what he was doing, he remained silent, and she sensed he was unhappy. She knew he cared deeply about her. She had been there now for more years than she could remember. It was the only life she had known. Lou E was much older, and he was like a father and husband to her. After he had gathered and packed all of her clothing, except for her personal items, he went over to Lee, who was sitting against the far wall of her bedroom, sobbing. She couldn’t look at him. He sat down next to her and pulled her against him. His strong and loving arms were wrapped around his beautiful Lee, his love. She leaned into him, feeling loved and safe.

“Lee, my darling child, it is not my choice, but by government order. You must fly to Hong Kong immediately.”

She held him tighter, more upset than ever by his words.

“Why?” She was trembling with fear. “Am I to be killed?”

She knew prostitution was illegal and thought that she was to be punished. Lou E and Mick had always protected their “charges” and paid large sums to local government officials for protection. The girls entertained them lavishly and felt honored to be with such notable and important guests.

“No.” Lou E was reassuring, but solemn. “I have been told to place you on a flight this afternoon to arrive in Hong Kong by this evening. Someone will be awaiting your arrival at the gate, and you will be safe and well cared for. You are to have no fears or concerns.”

He would not tell her that he and Mick were paid a large sum of money to arrange her transfer. They also had no choice. Mick and Lou E were heartbroken. Both felt great love for Lee, having known her from childhood to womanhood. She had a beautiful spirit and felt great affection and love for both of these men. Lou E had become her exclusive lover, and he allowed no one else to touch her. As Lee’s role shifted, she befriended the new girls and helped them adjust to their new world. She felt fortunate to have been cared for by such devoted men. They were her family. It was the only life she had known.

Lou E stood, pulling her up with him, held her, kissed her forehead gently, and said, “Shower and prepare yourself. I have bought some travelling clothes for you. You will be pleased with the new garments, shoes, and other items that I have chosen.”

She trusted him to do what was best for her. She always did his bidding. She looked up at him, into his loving eyes, and gently kissed his mouth. They felt the love between them that was everlasting. She went into the bathroom, removed her silk dressing gown, and when fully undressed, stepped into the warm shower. As she washed her hair, and felt the water flowing over her soft skin, she suddenly felt an excitement and trust, that there could be a new world, something wondrous in her future. She had read about Hong Kong, and the idea of going there was like a dream. The unknown was still frightening, but Lou E had always protected her, and she knew he always would.


65



Max called Greg at his DC office.

“Greg, I need to talk to you,” asked Max.

“Of course,” said Greg, and he paused.

“Is it true that the NYC subway was attacked by terrorists this morning?” asked Max.

“Yes,” answered Greg.

“What are you allowed to tell me?” Max asked.

“The FBI is working the case, and they are starting at the logical place,” he answered.

“Edgewood,” stated Max in a monotone.

“Yep,” answered Greg.

“So there could be a link to the director and others who work there?”

“Anything is possible,” answered Greg.

“Cut the crap. You know what I need to know.” Max was pissed.

“Dr. Adams and his staff are being questioned. Forensics is there now. Some items have been taken for further examination,” answered Greg. “Remember Wally Weber, the FBI guy from the anthrax case?”

“Yes, I recognize his name,” said Max.

“He is a big gun behind the scenes, and I heard through the grapevine that he is part of the investigation team,” stated Greg.

“Shit,” said Max. “I need to talk to Suzy. She cannot be involved in this. She and the director dated for a short time, but something happened and she ended it,” stated Max. Max sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“He is being interrogated. He is denying any knowledge or having any information that could link him to the H5N1 outbreak, though evidence is pointing directly to him. They think he had an accomplice. At least preliminary evidence indicates that, but we don’t know who, as yet,” said Greg.

Greg had to ask Max, “Do you think she is still involved with Adams?”

“F*ck no, no way,” answered Max, angry that Greg had even gone there. “Motive?”

“Adams had an expensive divorce, so he could use some money, or he could have a hard-on for the US or he could be a fruit f*cking cake,” said Greg. “Maybe all three,” he added.

“Evidence?” asked Max.

“E-mails,” said Greg. Then he continued, “From Adams to a dead drop, indicating a completed task, and other incriminating stuff. Of course, he denies any knowledge of this.”

“Maybe a set up?” asked Max. He prayed to God that Suzy wasn’t part of this shit. He had to see her right away.

Max was tired of waiting for Suzy to call. She wasn’t answering her cell phone, and he knew she was no longer at the lab.

“Shit,” Max exclaimed. “I guess that’s all you can say, right?”

“Right, except stay away from her for now. Do you understand?”

Greg was being forceful and cared about his longtime friend, but he knew Max would not listen.

“I’m on the way to her place,” said Max, ending the call.

“No!” yelled Greg, but Max had already hung up.


66



Max was driving as fast as he could, sensing something was seriously wrong. He hoped that Suzy wasn’t involved. His mind couldn’t conceive of that possibility. He would know when he saw her, held her, and she would tell him everything. All he had to do was look in her eyes. He knew of Suzy’s desperate need to save her twin sister, Lee. Knowing what he had learned from Greg about her sister and other emotional entanglements, he understood more fully how tortured and damaged Suzy’s life had been.

The drive seemed to take forever, but he finally made it to the Bayside Retreat entrance. Normally he would just key in the security code, and the gate would rise. Instead, he was being questioned by a Maryland State Trooper asking for his identification.

“What the f*ck,” he thought as he pulled out his military ID.

“Good evening, sir. What is your business here, Colonel?” asked the state trooper.

“I am here to visit a friend, officer. What’s going on?” asked Max.

He is alarm bells were going off, big time, and he was getting impatient, as well.

“I am not free to say. What is your business here, sir?” the officer repeated.

Max tried to relax and smiled, “My girl, she lives just a few blocks down from here, 62 Sandpiper.”

The officer studied Max, his high-ranking Army uniform, and said, “One moment, Colonel.”

The trooper pulled out his radio and spoke for a few moments. “Yes, ma’am,” was all Max heard.

“You may proceed,” and he raised the gate, knowing what was ahead for this guy.