The F.B.I. - the Third Chapter of the Long Journey Home

Diane stood at the gate waiting for Jim to appear. Out of the corner of her she saw a man approaching. It was only after she turned that she recognized her husband. "Jim, what happened to you? Where's your beard? Why are you dressed in a suit?"

Jim pulled Diane to him and just held onto her.

"Jim?" "Jim, you're scaring me, what's wrong?"

Jim slowly pulled away and said, "Let's just get my bag and get out of here. I'll tell you in the car."

The Mavelli's were almost home when Jim finished his story. "Oh God Jim," Diane said, "What are we going to do?"

"I'm going to call the F.B.I., but not from our phone. There is still a chance that the bad guys don't know who I am, and the longer I can keep you out of this, the better."

"Do you think they can help?" Diane asked, "You hear all those stories about how they just use people and they really can't protect them."

"I don't know Baby," Jim said, "but the bad guys are already after me, so there isn't any reason not to get some of the good guys on our side. There is another reason also. There can be a lot of people in that building they plan to blow up, maybe hundreds. It could be another Oklahoma."

Diane sat quietly for a minute, then without looking a Jim she asked, "What was that place you were in?"

"It was a cabaret." Jim answered, "I just stopped in for a beer."

"And the show," Diane questioned.

"Yes; and the show. Diane, are you saying that it's my fault that people are trying to kill me?"

"Well if you weren't so interested in watching half naked women, we wouldn't be in the mess, would we?"

"Look. Fernando is an international terrorist; he doesn't live in the cabaret. The act of going into the cabaret didn't cause this."

"No," Diane countered, "but you're damn curiosity and that damn photographic mind of yours did. Why didn't you just leave?"

"You're blaming me for this." Jim was beside himself, "I can't believe it. I damn near get killed, I manage, by some miracle, to evade professional killers and get home, and do I get comfort? No, I get blame like I planned the damn thing."

"I didn't say you planned it." Diane responded, "I'm just saying it could have been avoided."

Suddenly Jim jerked the car into a shopping center, pulled into a parking spot, and undid his seatbelt. "Here," he said dropping the keys in Diane's lap, "go home. I'll deal with this. If I wanted to start with the third degree, I would have gone straight to the F.B.I."

"Wait Jim," Diane called.

"Go home Diane," Jim said as he walked away from the car. Then he turned and walked backwards saying, "If you are afraid to go home, go visit Jenny, that ball breaker friend of yours, I'm sure she'll tell you what an asshole I am."

Diane undid her belt, slid over the driver's seat, and yelled out of the window, "And she'll be right!"

"Oh I would like to start over," Jim thought, "and if I did, I'd stay single."

Jim found a pay phone and dialed the number he remembered from the broadcast.

"Federal Bureau of Investigation, Anti-terrorist Task Force, Special Agent Rhimes speaking, may I help you?"

"Yes," Jim said nervously, "I have some information about a major case you are working on."

"And what case would that be sir?" Tom Rhimes asked.

"I'd rather not say." Jim answered.

"Well, could you please identify yourself?"

"I'm sorry, I can't do that either, not on the phone. Could you please direct me to your office? I can speak freely there."

"Yes sir, we can do it that way."

Agent Rhimes gave Jim directions to their downtown office.

Jim was a few miles from the Metro. He'd have to get a taxi to the Metro station and take the train from there.

Tom Rhimes hung up the phone. The tall muscular African-American turned to his fellow agent. "It was a guy with", making quotation marks with his figures Tom said, "important information. He's coming in to talk. He wouldn't say squat over the phone. What do you bet that I sit my ass here, miss dinner waiting for him, and he tells me that he saw aliens use a ray gun from their saucer to blow up the congressman's boat?"

Special Agent Dave Armstrong laughed, "Better you than me buddy. I'm outta here. Tomorrow I'm going back under. I'm convinced these people are a cell of Fernando's organization."

"But cells don't talk about their boss," Tom asked, "how will you ever know?"

"I have to do something that will impress them enough to kick me upstairs."

"Who are you going to kill?" Tom asked.

"I'll find somebody." Dave answered.

"We've been granted special latitude and a special budget on this one, above and beyond, but I don't think it goes that far."

"I'll think of something." Dave said as he headed for the door. "Have fun with your new star witness."

"Yeah right," Tom said as Dave left.

"Damn it, I'm hungry already." Tom said to himself, "He better have a good story or he's buying me dinner."

Jim entered the office just after eight. He was happy to see it deserted. A single light burned in a corner office. Jim made his way to the door.

As he approached Tom asked, "Are you the man who called earlier?"

"Yes" Jim answered, "I'm sorry I took so long to get here. I didn't have of car."

Jim identified himself and told his story. When he was finished Tom looked at him. Jim could tell the agent was having a hard time believing him. Then Tom started asking questions, "Mr. Mavelli, you say you identified Fernando from the description that we put out several months ago. How can you possibly be sure it was him? That's a long time to remember a description that you heard once or twice."

"Agent Rhimes look up or have someone look up the Total Recall Project conducted by NIH in 1979. You will find the records of a young man named James Mavelli. You see that he scored off the charts in every memory test. My photographic memory capability was listed a ninety-eight percent, the highest ever recorded. I remembered every detail of the description and the person I saw was Fernando. Of course the two thugs sent out to kill me was another hint."

"Total Recall huh," Tom said, "OK, I'll give you that. Why do you think they would speak English in a club in Madrid? I would expect them to speak Spanish."

"The older man was an American." Jim said, "Maybe he didn't speak Spanish, or maybe they thought speaking English would help cover their conversation."

Tom was beginning to get interested. "Tell me one more time about this plan."

"I didn't get it all and they were still speaking in generalities, but it had to do with blowing up a building. The older man was willing to pay twenty-five million for the job. He would give Fernando ten million when they met in New York to discuss details, and fifteen million when the job was done."

"When and where in New York?" Tom asked.

"August twenty-fourth at three in the afternoon at the Carnegie Deli."

"You are sure about that?"

"I am sure of what I heard, but after what happened with me, they may have changed their plans."

"I see," Tom said; then asked, "Do you think that they know who you are?"

"I did my best to conceal myself, it depends how wide spread Fernando's network is."

"He's not backed by any major government. I'm sure he has people in the major cities, but I don't believe he's tied in to any great extent. I think you might have given him the slip, at least for now. He is relentless though, you're not out of the woods."

"Can you help me?" Jim asked.

"Yes we can," Tom said, "and we'll need your help as well."

"I thought you might," Jim said, "I'll give your artists an exact description of all four men that I saw. I guarantee that the images will be as good as photographs."

"I'm afraid we'll need a bit more help than that Mr. Mavelli. We'll need you to point them out when the time comes."

"I'm telling you Agent Rhimes, the drawings will be one hundred percent accurate. There will be no need for me to be there."

"I'd like you to put eyeballs on the culprits if you don't mind Mr. Mavelli. It's not that I don't trust your God given gift, but I would feel much safer that way."

"Well, that's one of us that will feel safer." Jim retorted.

Tom leaned over the desk on his elbows, "Mr. Mavelli, you came in here of your own free will and you may leave the same way. It's up to you."

"So, if I don't do it your way, you'll just let them kill me." Jim said with a bit of anger in his voice.

"Of course not Mr. Mavelli, we'll keep an eye out, but we can't hold your hand for the rest of your life. If you were a witness that helps us finger this bastard then will have a lot more flexibility in how we can help you. That's all I'm saying."

"I know exactly what you're saying Agent Rhimes, and I know I have no choice. I have a wife to think about."

"Then it's settled then. Tomorrow come by the office and we will get started on those perfect artist renderings. In the mean time, I think you have given Fernando the slip. I will have some people watching your house, very discreetly. We'll also be watching our local bad guys and we'll know if any new boys come to town. Go on with your life as much as you can. We'll call and ask you to stop by now and then to prepare you and to see if there is anything else you can help us with. Thank you very much for coming by Mr. Mavelli, and I'm sure in time the families of the people marked for death will also thank you."

Jim and Tom shook hands, and Jim left the office feeling like he just sold his soul.

It was almost ten thirty when the taxi pulled into the Mavelli driveway. Jim entered the house to find Diane waiting at the kitchen table. Jim was not as sheepish on his entry as he was the last time Diane waited for him in that seat.

"Are they going to help?" Diane asked.

"Sure," Jim said, "all I had to do was sign my life over to them. They'll help me, if I help them. That's the bottom line."

"You told them what happened and all you know about what's going to happen, right?"

"Of course," Jim said a bit annoyed at the question.

"Then what else do that want from you?" Diane asked.

"Oh plenty, but the less you know the better. Let's just say I have two jobs now, and I get to use my vacation time to work for the federal government."

"What about now," Diane asked, "are we safe?"

"Special Agent Rhimes seems to think that I gave Fernando the slip, but he will have people keeping an eye on us. I guess we better close the blinds in the bedroom."

"Jim, how can you joke at a time like this?"

"What the hell, there isn't much else to do. So that's the story. I haven't eaten since the airplane food."

Diane stood up, "Let me get you something."

"Don't bother, I can fend for myself," Jim had not forgotten their earlier exchange, "you can go to bed. I'm taking care of it. It shouldn't concern you anymore."

"Jim," Diane said, "of course it concerns me. You were almost killed."

"Oh," Jim said as he walked to the refrigerator, "I thought you were just concerned about me being a busy body and having lower moral character."

"I'm sorry Jim. I was nervous and scared. I guess I took it out on you. Can you forgive me?"

Jim looked at her rubbing his bare chin, "I don't know. In order to be forgiven, you may have to perform certain favors for me, in the manner of my choosing."

Diane executed a short bow and said, "Your wish is my command," and gave Jim a seductive smile.

"Oh heck," Jim said, "I can eat anytime. Come my little suburban flower, forgiveness awaits; after about an hour and a half of penance that is."

Jim returned to the refrigerator two hours later and a lot hungrier.

The next morning the Mavellis slept in. Jim slowly opened his eyes and wondered what could possibly happen today. His world had changed so much since spring began. Now they are starting the long Memorial Day weekend. Every year at this time Jim was normally thinking about getting the old grill going and calling up some friends for a get together. Today all he wanted to do was get some books on anti‑terrorist techniques and register for a handgun.

He thought as he lay next to his wife, "That home security system that we have been putting off getting will be gotten ASAP. There will also be new rules to follow, like never get in the car without checking it first. You're always one boom away from never never land. Leave little indicators of tampering on your car, in your house, and at the office, and always check them. Things like a bit of thread taped across a door crack or drawer edges, or cheap breakables easily knocked over if a window or a door isn't opened just right."

"Good morning." Diane said disrupting Jim's serious thoughts.

"Good morning Baby," Jim said rolling over to kiss his wife.

Tom Rhimes was in the office early for a Saturday morning. He took some flack from his wife for going to work on Memorial Day weekend, but he had to check on this Mavelli guy. Was he as good as he said he was? It took him no time to get into the Nation Institute of Heath records and find James Mavelli the ten-year-old wiz kid. NIH had planned years of testing and observation of the boy's amazing talent, but the Total Recall budget was cut and the project was scrapped.

Tom was reading all the information he could get on James Mavelli from age ten to the present day when the APEX secure phone rang. That could only be one person. Tom picked it up, "Rhimes."

"Good," Dave said, "I'm glad it's you. I've ditched my new friends for a few minutes. Tell me something, did that guy show up last night?"

"Yeah, why," Tom answered.

"He didn't by any chance just return from Spain did he?"

Tom said, "You better shake those guys so we can meet. I need everything that you have."

"I can't do that now, Dave said, "but I can tell you that I'm in with the right crowd and they are hot for that man. It seems he took out two of our boy's top people and disappeared."

"How much do they know about him?" Tom asked.

"No much at all." Dave answered, "The word has gone out in every city. There is a ten thousand dollar bounty for information and a fifty thousand dollar bounty for proof of a kill. I've got to get back, you keep that guy safe. We'll hook up at the regular time and place."

"OK, take care buddy." Tom said and hung up the phone.

"Jackpot," Tom cheered, and then he started to gather a team to watch over his new cash cow.

"A gun," Diane asked amazed by Jim's statement. "You are going to get a gun?"

"Do you know anyone more in need of a gun right now? You should get one to."

"Come on Jim," Diane tried to reason with him, "we hate guns. We've always been for restrictions on guns.

"I still am." Jim said, "The only people who should be allowed to have guns are people being chased by crazy Spanish terrorists named Fernando. I also think you should start taking self-defense classes. I try to teach you things, but you just ignore me."

"I don't ignore you. I just get the giggles when you try to show me how do those throws and things."

"Well, if I can't teach you, maybe my sensei can."

"I couldn't go to your class."

"You can go to my class. I won't bug you in class, I promise."

"Sure, I can see it now, every time the instructor says something you'll be running over to see if I'm doing it right."

"Please Diane," Jim said the tone of his voice changing.

"The truth is Jim, not everyone has a talent for martial arts. If you want me to, I'll look into getting self-defense training. The other thing I will do is carry mace. How's that."

Jim smiled and hugged his wife, "That will be fine baby."

"OK," Diane said making an official decision. "That's enough depressing talk. It's the Memorial Day weekend. We're off; let's have some fun. How about taking our bikes to the G.W. Parkway bike path?"

"Good idea," Jim said, "but first I have to visit our new friends; downtown. It's police artist time."