Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Deadly Ports
Deadly Ports
Deadly Ports
Ebook261 pages4 hours

Deadly Ports

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

Four different people with one common knowledge: medicine.
Four different people with one common want: purity. Four different people with one common need: power. Four different people with one common goal: Live with Honor.
Captain Ian Sweeney, Captain Thomas Hoffman, Lieutenant Commander Michael Dutton, and Loretta Randolph, Chief Chemist: conspirators, associates, and members of 'the Party." For one, a power struggle within the group would not be tolerated. If it meant elimination of one for the greater good, that one would handle the task.
Their movements and plans were being closely monitored by the FBI and they were being fed information from an informant known only as Schaefer. The senior supervising agent assigned to the case, Phillip Adams, liked to refer to the suspects as the musketeers. But, little did the feds know that the group had some far reaching ties to the government and local law enforcement.
The pharmaceutical plant, Pharm Care, stood at the ready to, unknowingly, finish the plan created by the four. The workers, who were busy loading and unloading chemical compounds and ingredients, did not realize that the mixtures would create a new, powerful 'anti-drug.'

LanguageEnglish
PublisherRonald Stover
Release dateAug 31, 2013
ISBN9781301622832
Deadly Ports
Author

Ronald Stover

Writing has always been my passion. Whether it be non-fiction or fiction, I enjoy creating images, for the reader, through my writing. My latest book, "Deadly Ports: Live with Honor," was a long time in the making, and my sense of accomplishment is soaring. I am currently preparing an outline for my next novel. It will be fiction and contain suspense/thriller/drama.

Read more from Ronald Stover

Related to Deadly Ports

Related ebooks

Thrillers For You

View More

Related articles

Related categories

Reviews for Deadly Ports

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Deadly Ports - Ronald Stover

    DEADLY PORTS

    By

    Ronald G. Stover

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright © 2013 Ronald G. Stover

    EBOOK EDITION

    *****

    PUBLISHED BY: Ronald G. Stover

    Thank you for downloading this eBook. Although you have purchased this book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoyed this book, then encourage your friends to download their own copy.

    Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

    This book is a fictional work. However, any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

    Table of Contents

    CHAPTER 1

    CHAPTER 2

    CHAPTER 3

    CHAPTER 4

    CHAPTER 5

    CHAPTER 6

    CHAPTER 7

    CHAPTER 8

    CHAPTER 9

    CHAPTER 10

    CHAPTER 11

    EPILOGUE

    CHAPTER 1

    As the guests created a distance between themselves and the mansion, the softness of the music gave way to the sound of thunder from the approaching storm. But the storm forming off the shore could not wreak the havoc which would ultimately come from the four figures involved in a turbulent conversation on the cliff walk.

    The thunder in the distance rumbled with less intensity than the voice of Captain Ian Sweeney, head of internal medicine at the naval base infirmary.

    Second thoughts are in the past. Our vows were made and they cannot be broken. The tempo and pitch of Sweeney's voice were that of a statement being repeated for more than merely a second time. And the person on the receiving end of the message reacted as though it had no significance.

    A shrug of the shoulders and an empty stare were the only signs that Commander Michael Dutton would allow Sweeney to observe. But deep within his chest, his heart pounded feverishly as he knows these confrontations could not continue without Sweeney making more than just a statement. He would eventually have to take some kind of action.

    I don't understand you Ian. People change. Their wants and needs change. Although his outward appearance gave no indication of his nervousness, Dutton could not hide the quivering tone in his voice. I am not the same person I was twenty years ago and I don't want the power that I needed then.

    I told you then and I've told you since, boomed Sweeney, Once you're in, you're in. There's no way out!

    Dutton wasn't sure if it was Sweeney's words or the sudden surge of the storm's winds that caused a chill to run throughout his body. Droplets of rain began to mix with the perspiration forming on his forehead.

    Come on Ian. Why don't you lighten up on Mike? The words coming from Captain Thomas Hoffman's mouth caused an immediate redirection of Sweeney's attention. You know we've talked about this before and it always ends the same way. A handshake, a smile and a re-affirmation of our allegiance.

    The undercurrent of the conversation was taking on strength greater than that which lay just beyond the rocks on the water's edge. As the tides rose from the oncoming storm, so did the anger of Sweeney.

    Don't give me that bleeding heart crap, Tom. I'm sick and tired of Mike's inability to stay with the task at hand. Sweeney had shifted his verbal attach just as the winds had shifted from off-shore. We've worked too hard and come too far to have anyone slow us down. And I will not be stopped from getting what is due me!

    But Ian, be reasonable. Mike doesn't want to stop you, he only wants to end his involvement with the project, defended Loretta Randolph, chief chemist at the naval research lab and longtime companion of Tom, Besides, the three of us can continue to work towards our goal without his help.

    Sweeney seemed to be absorbing what Loretta had just said to him. It was unusual for him to pause at such length before laying out his feelings. Was he contemplating the storm which now engulfed them or was it the storm within his mind?

    Almost with a reverence, he turned to speak to Loretta, who was braced for a verbal onslaught, I understand what you're saying and I suppose it's true. We can continue without the help of Mike.

    Sweeney quickly turned towards Tom, as if he were shifted by the gusting winds, and continued to express his thought, And we must remain decisive people. There is no time to be wasted by this continued procrastination. I know I've made my decision and I don't intend to change it!

    Sweeney searched Tom's eyes to make sure he understood his full meaning. To make sure the point was driven home. And, the result was clear. Tom removed his rain soaked glasses and nervously wiped the rain from the lenses as he gave a sorrowful glance towards Mike.

    But the meaning was also clear to Mike, as he hurriedly pulled the collar up on his now drenched trench coat, eyes darting from Tom to Ian and back to Tom, who was by now only an arm's distance away from him.

    As he turned to leave his alienated comrades, Mike lost his footing on the slippery, moss covered rocks that lined the crooked path at the edge of the cliff walk. The deck shoes he wore were no match for the slickness and he violently tumbled to the ground. Sudden warmth began to spread beneath his hair, as a jagged rock had sought out his scalp and performed its bloody deed. But, in his state of semi-consciousness, the warmth of the blood flowing from his wound was suddenly replaced by a chill that brought him back to the realization of what was happening around him.

    The last vision that Mike would have was Tom kneeling over him. The last feeling he would have was the cyanide filled hypodermic needle entering his jugular.

    As Mike's body heaved to seek out its final breath, the sound was silenced by the storm fed waves breaking against the shore below. And, just as the weapon of doom had sought its point of entry in Mike's neck, it was now seeking entry into its watery grave below.

    With a sound louder than the storm surrounding them, Ian broke into hysterical laughter. A laugh that Tom and Loretta had witnessed on more than one occasion. A laugh that meant he had succeeded once again.

    Fools. All of them fool, Sweeney proclaimed, stopping only to fill his lungs with the rain soaked air and to insert another outburst of laughter. Look at them, he said while pointing towards the massive stone structure which was housing the benefit and stood like a cold guard against the darkened, electrically charged sky. Laughing, dancing and stuffing their faces for a cause they don't realize cannot be stopped. At least not by their feeble attempts.

    Turning back to look at Tom and Loretta, Ian made his final point. A point of which they were all aware. It's not what they are dealing with, but rather who!

    With the thought of Mike's lifeless body still etched in his mind, Tom turned away from the scene and began the long walk towards the mansion. It was here that people from all walks of life would gather each year to pay homage to, and support, the Burnside General Hospital.

    Each person had his or her reasons for being there. Some simply to mingle with those they could only admire from a distance during the rest of the year. Some to stay in step with their family, friends or neighbors. While others truly believed in the many services the hospital had to offer.

    This was the largest gathering in the history of the affair and it took on the appearance of being the most important, as senators, congressmen and other government officials were also in attendance. They were the reason for Ian, Tom, Mike and Loretta's presence. They were the target of their plan. They were at the heart of the world's problems.

    Music and voices filled the night air, along with the aroma of fresh baked fish and other delicacies specially prepared for this occasion. The champagne was flowing like water over a waterfall. And, although the food they ingested and the liquid they imbibed would bring smiles to their faces, their signs of enjoyment would eventually be replaced by those of fear and pain.

    The main ballroom was filled to capacity and the guests overflowed onto the marble terrace and out on the lawn. The same lawn that Tom was now crossing.

    It was Tom's appointed task to contact the authorities in such a way that would not alarm the guests. It was his responsibility to inform Detective James Sweeney, of the Newport Police Department, of the accident that had just occurred. He would be the only one that could be trusted to investigate Mike's death without causing a scene.

    As the distance between himself and his two remaining partners grew larger, Tom could hear Ian break into another volley of laughter, except that this time, Loretta joined in with him. And it was Ian's piercing laugh that caused Tom's mind to wander back in time. Back to when he first experienced the sound and the man behind it.

    CHAPTER 2

    We are here to make sure the groundwork laid by our predecessors is not forgotten nor shoved aside. The blood they spilled in their quest for a pure society cannot be washed away. The voice resonated through the crowd gathered to show their unification. Our purpose in life was determined many years ago and it is that purpose which brings us here today. Lazarus was believed to have been raised from the dead. I say he has risen!

    The tumultuous crowd roared in agreement. Voices could be heard shouting the speaker's name, Ian! Ian! Ian, each time growing louder, until the voices were joined as one.

    It was during this speech that Ian Sweeney's hatred for the governments of the world was made clear to his listeners. He spoke of World War II and how his father had been killed trying to protect the creation of a pure, harmonious society. How the Orientals, and the Japanese in particular, had been wrong in becoming involved in the war. In his eyes, their weakness led to his father's death. His words were spoken like those of a minister giving a sermon to his congregation.

    With the grace of a cult leader, he transformed the audience into believers and followers. They hung on every word he spoke. His descriptions of how they had all been robbed of their opportunities for wealth by the impure, and how the government controlled their destiny, brought frowns of contempt and cheers of agreement. Over and over the words were repeated with the intent of forming a bond between the masses. A bond created out of hostility for their losses.

    As Ian spoke his venomous words, Tom was busy making a visual interpretation of the man at the podium.

    A man of just slightly over six foot tall, Ian carried himself like someone who was in complete control. Someone who's every word or command should be heeded. Someone who should never be crossed.

    Blond hair fell freely across his forehead in no particular direction. His eyes, icy blue, peering out from between the unkempt locks, seemed to penetrate everything they came in contact with. Never straying away from anyone's attempt at eye contact. Always as though he were reading a book written on a person's mind.

    His face took on the appearance of a bust sculptured from granite. Fine lines that never seemed to change. A jaw that never seemed to move. A face void of expression no matter what the situation around him or the nasty remarks made throughout his speech turned proclamation.

    Tom stood in awe at the powerful figure standing before the crowd. What if the plan conceived and began thirty-five years earlier had gone full circle? Would Ian's fate and demeanor have been the model for all of humanity? Or would there still have been the timid and weak like his roommate Michael Dutton?

    Mike struck Tom as a complete opposite of Ian. He was barely five foot eight and walked as though he were always over quicksand. Always looking for direction from others. A follower; not a leader.

    He could never seem to bring himself to look into another person's eyes during a conversation. His eyes showed the nervousness that was contained within him. Always darting from on object to another. Never focusing on one point.

    The worry lines were carved into his forehead with the same precision as the waters had created the Grand Canyon. He had a nervous twitch in his jaw that made it seem as though he was constantly chewing. His innermost feelings were always visible on his face and he wore them like a mourner would wear a black armband.

    But there was one thing that Mike had in common with Ian; he was an offspring of, and firm believer in, the Youth program, of which they had all been members. He felt that the world leaders, along with the military leaders, should be punished for contaminating the purity of the perfect race. Somehow they would have to pay the price for their actions.

    Tom allowed his eyes to drift across the faces of the others in attendance. He had seen some of them before in his medical classes at John Hopkins. Most were intent on the words being spoken, while others were simply curiosity seekers.

    Although he agreed with the obvious discontentment voiced by Ian, and applauded Mike and the others, Tom could not imagine how the hands of time could be reversed. He could see no way of completing what was once thought to be the ultimate plan.

    But, as the words Ian had spoken reverberated in his mind, a feeling of anger and hatred began to overtake his doubts. He could visualize himself becoming the savior of the innocent victims who had fallen in the past, and who would fall in the future. The release from the grip of the people they had placed in power could be accomplished, if Ian was as strong a leader as his speech would have one believe.

    In the presence of this blood banner, which represents our Leader, I swear to devote all my energies and my strength to the spirit of our purity.

    As the oath, led by Ian, was recited by the crowd, a cannon was fired to signal the end of the rally.

    The sky lit up with a streak of lightning and a horrendous burst of thunder that brought Tom back to the present situation.

    His eyes focused in on the figures standing on the terrace. They were not clear to him, as his glasses began to fog from the cool rain hitting the lenses warmed by his perspiration.

    Realizing he was still some distance from his destination, he glanced behind him to see if he could catch a glimpse of Ian and Loretta. He was sure that the condition of his glasses must be playing a trick o his eyes as he thought he observed them in an embrace next to where Mike's body lay. Pulling a dry handkerchief from his pocket, Tom removed his glasses and carefully wiped the moisture from the lenses.

    Just as he was about to lift the glasses back in place, another bolt of lightning arched through the sky followed by an explosion of sound, sending his mind back to his introduction to Ian.

    After the speech and rally had ended, Tom and Mike approached Ian. Upon introducing themselves, they offered him their satisfaction at what he had said and extended an invitation for him to join them for a beer.

    I hope that everyone can appreciate what we came here for today, Ian spoke, as the three men settled into a booth at the Americanized, German pub. I have known since the age of six, when I was ushered into the Youth program as an adolescent recruit, that our allegiance is the strength of our unity.

    Tom and Mike sat in silence, as the man sitting across from them verbalized a retrospect of his life.

    I was born in the city of Dresden in 1937. My father was already involved with the SS, so it was very rare that I got to see him. And when he did come home, it was usually for only a few hours, most of which was spent with my mother behind closed doors. Ian stopped briefly to light a cigarette. As I said before, I was indoctrinated into the Youth program and that is where I began to understand what the NPP stood for and why my father was willing to die to protect it and its leaders. I was also tutored by my older brother, who had graduated into the Jungvolk. We would sit for many hours discussing how wonderful the world would someday be.

    Tom slid Ian's beer in front of him, while keeping his eyes fixed on the speaker's.

    My father was killed near the end of the war, so my mother, who was then pregnant with my younger brother, took my brother James and myself, and immigrated to America. We moved in with my uncle Johann, who had fled Germany at the end of 1944, and lived in a cramped apartment in Brooklyn. That's where my mother met, and married, my step-father Joseph Sweeney.

    It seems like all the German women who migrated to the United States married someone other than a German man, Mike interjected.

    Although she was very much in love with my father, and bore him three children, she could never bring herself to believe in, nor support, the ideology of an Aryan race, Lebensraum, or anti-Semitism. She needed to escape the clutches of the NPP, and my step-father was her savior. He won her over by adopting my brother and me, saying that, by giving us his last name, we would be able to live in peace and without scorn. He said he would kill the seed that had been planted in our minds. Ian emphasized his statement by grinding his cigarette into the ashtray.

    Evidently his plans never materialized, Tom said, as he raised his beer to his mouth.

    No. They never did, Ian answered. As long as my uncle was alive, and we continued to visit him, the torch remained lit and burned brightly. He would talk to us about the reasons and advantages of living in an Aryan society. How we could all prosper from living as one.

    A sudden frown came over his face, as he continued. But, my step-father would not tolerate any such preaching or activities. When my mother would leave the house, Joseph would beat us and defame our uncle, our father, and everything else connected with the NPP. He threatened to have swastikas tattooed on our foreheads so that we would be ridiculed and beaten by all those against the NPP. A smile crept across his face. Little did he know that we would have worn that symbol proudly.

    You mean your mother never found out about the beatings? Mike asked.

    He would tell her that we were shooting off our mouths about Germany, and the neighborhood kids had attacked us. She would believe him and send us to our room as punishment. Ian slammed his fist down on the table. She could never see what a sadistic bastard he really was. If she only listened to us.

    It's funny how our lives are so much in parallel, Tom said, circling his hand around the table as if to pull the three men together.

    What do you mean by that? asked Ian, as he leaned forward on his seat, eyebrows rose in wonder.

    Mike and I were brought to the United States by our mothers, too. I was born in Leipzig and he in Magdeburg. Our families moved to Linz and became neighbors and good friends. Our fathers fought side-by-side and died the same way. Tom paused to catch his breath, before continuing, We were both indoctrinated in the Youth organization on the same day. We took our pledge together and studied the ideology together. But, when we came to the U.S., we did not have someone to keep our ideas alive, as you did. That is, until now.

    With excitement in his voice, Mike asked, Is there some way we could meet your uncle and hear about the Leader first hand?

    That's impossible! Ian snapped, bringing a look of surprise to Tom and Mike's faces. You see. My uncle was Johann Hauptmann, a prominent biologist in Germany and the U.S…

    A stunned look came across Tom's face, as he interrupted. Isn't he the man who was tried as a war criminal last year, convicted and put to death?

    Yes. That was him. Ian answered, as a glaze engulfed his eyes. He had been living here under an assumed name, John Manning, and was able to move about, and practice his biology, freely. Joseph came home drunk one night and beat my mother until she told him the truth about my uncle. My step-father informed the government that my uncle was in fact a German and may have been involved in the genocide during the war. They arrested him and put him on trial. A tear formed in Ian's eye. They couldn't just sentence him to life in prison. That bastard senator from Oregon just had to push for death!

    Is that why you're so strongly involved in the movement? Tom asked.

    I intend to carryon what was once our fathers' dream. Though our Leader is dead, and his ashes have long since been blown by the wind, the spirit of the man lives within me. I will stand by my pledge. And with that, Ian rolled-up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal a tattoo on his forearm. It was a phrase that Tom and Mike were quite familiar with: Live with Honor.

    The three men ended

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1