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Revenge, Inc.
Revenge, Inc.
Revenge, Inc.
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Revenge, Inc.

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In this third novel in the Jack and Lynn Preston series, Lynn struggles to deal with the murder of her husband and granddaughter. Their political crusades are over as she searches for something to overcome her depression; something that uses the computer hacking skills Jack taught her. Jack’s friend invites her to join his detective agency as an online investigator and undercover operative. Soon she discovers the satisfaction of getting revenge for victims of abuse and financial fraud by hacking into the offender’s personal accounts to get them in legal and financial trouble. All is well until a menace from her past shows up; someone out for her own revenge. But Lynn has help - Jack’s spirit who talks to her. Revenge, Inc. has all the suspense, action, romance, and humor you have come to expect from this author.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJ. D. German
Release dateNov 10, 2016
ISBN9781370147878
Revenge, Inc.
Author

J. D. German

J. Dee German, a retired physicist and engineer, spent much of his 43-year career in research and development of lasers for a variety of applications, including high power systems designed to destroy aircraft and missiles to low power personal protection devices. As part of President Reagan’s ‘Star Wars’ program he investigated the effects of electromagnetic pulses (EMP) and lasers on various satellite designs. Dee currently lives on a lake in southwestern Georgia and divides his activities between part-time consulting, writing, and serving God.

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    Book preview

    Revenge, Inc. - J. D. German

    Book #3 in the Jack and Lynn Preston Series

    Copyright 2016 by J. D. German

    SmashWords Edition

    This E-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Identification of Major Characters

    Lynn Preston – Wife of ex-federal agent Jack Preston, who was murdered at the end of the previous book ion the series, The Forseti Solution. To deal with Jack’s death she takes up hacking into personal, bank, and government computer systems to get revenge for victims of abuse or fraud.

    Jack Preston – Jack may be dead but his ghostly spirit is not. He visits Lynn to protect her and help her begin a new life.

    Harriet and Rick Goodman – Friends and allies during the political battles of the first two books in the series. They live on The Farm, a gentleman’s farm in Virginia where Lynn joins them to begin her new company, Revenge, Inc.

    Tom Gutierrez – A former colleague and close friend from the first two novels in the series.

    Dave Cramer – An old friend of Jack and Lynn who operates Cramer Security and Investigation Company. He brings Lynn in as a computer investigator and undercover agent, and send her to Hacker School for training.

    Matt Murdock – A detective with the Philadelphia Police Department who investigates a murder attempt on Lynn. In the process they become romantically involved.

    Zarah Savvin – Lynn’s nemesis from the previous book who is seeking revenge against Lynn for killing her mentor and lover, Alexei Brusilov.

    E-Books by J. D. German

    Fiction

    The Hermetrius Conspiracy – Lynn and Jack Preston Series #1

    The Forsetti Solution – Lynn and Jack Preston Series #2

    Revenge, Inc. – Lynn and Jack Preston Series #3

    The Malthus Strategy

    Hostile Takeover

    Peacekeeper

    The Priceless Linen: A Fictional History of Christ’s Burial Cloth

    Non-Fiction

    Christian Principles – Food for Thought

    Random Thoughts of an A.D.D. Mind

    The above books can be downloaded free from smashwords . com / profile / view / jdeegerman (no spaces). They are available in formats that can be read on a PC, tablet computers, and E-readers.

    Prologue

    Jack and Lynn Preston, as part of a team of crusaders, have finished their work to keep billionaire Charles Winston from taking over the White House and destroying the principles our country stands for. Winston is dead and a more moderate Marcus Tyler is president. Jack and Lynn are looking forward to relaxing and enjoying their new lives together when Jack is murdered by one of Winston’s hired guns.

    Lynn is devastated by her loss and goes into a deep depression, wishing she were dead so she could be with Jack once more. But someone comes to comfort her, someone who will talk with her, and hug her, and sleep with her – Jack’s spirit.

    Chapter 1 - Pain

    Lynn was snuggled under her comforter to escape the cold mountain air in the bed that she and Jack shared whenever they were at his cabin. She could feel his arms around her as he snuggled spoon fashion against her back. She felt his lips delivering a gentle kiss to the back of her neck, and that brought a familiar warm feeling inside her. He hugged her a little tighter to see if she was awake.

    Mmmm. Who’s that with his arms wrapped around me?

    She heard him answer Just me, your loving husband. Are you asleep?

    I was before those kisses brought up warm memories. Why don’t you light a fire in the fireplace, then come back and light my fire.

    I thought you would never ask. I’ll be right back – save my place.

    While he was away Lynn rolled over on her back, yawned, and stretched her whole body, like cats do, anxious for Jack to come back to bed.

    After several minutes he hadn’t come back. She called for him. Jack? . . . Jack?

    No answer. She slid out of bed, put her robe and slippers on, and padded into the living room. He’s not in here. She thought. And the fire is not lit yet. She checked the kitchen, thinking he might be making coffee, but it was empty.

    Maybe he went into the guest bedroom for a quick shower. I think I’ll join him.

    But he wasn’t there either. The only other place he could be is in the front entryway. She went back through the living room and rounded the corner. She froze in her tracks . . . and then she screamed. He was on the floor, blood pouring from bullet wounds in his head and shoulder. She screamed again . . . and it woke her up.

    The dream brought it all back. She responded in her usual way by tucking her body into a ball and crying. Loud, sobbing cries came out of her heart as she pulled the covers over her head and wished they would suffocate her. She couldn’t bear to live without him. Even though they had only been married six months, they were soul mates – a part of each other. When that part of her was ripped away by an assassin, it left a huge hole in her. She knew he was in Heaven and she just wanted to kill herself so she could be with him.

    After she had cried out all the tears she had – for now – she tried to remember what day it was . . . or what week it was. How long has it been since . . . since he left me. Three months? – has it been that long? After Lynn got her revenge against Jack’s killer she came up here to his West Virginia home – a five-room cabin on the shore of a small lake in the eastern Appalachians. Its appeal for her was the isolation – 30 minutes from the nearest town, if you could call it that. A general store, a gas station, four bars, and small jail for the weekend drunks. Jack built the place here because of the isolation.

    He retired here from his job as an agent for the Federal Remediation Agency, FRA, two years ago after his wife died of lung cancer. They both had grown up in the southwest corner of West Virginia, deep in the coal-filled mountains, where the air was thick with coal dust from the mines and smoke from the coal-burning fire places and locomotives. It affected some worse than others. The miners died early from black lung disease. Those who didn’t work in the mines lasted longer, but often died from COPD long before their time. He and his sweetheart wife escaped right after high school, but it wasn’t soon enough for her.

    By the time she hit 50, she had a chronic cough that wouldn’t go away. It was worse in the winter, but never really went away. Even with Jack pushing her, she refused to go to the doctor. Her father had died of black lung when she was only 12, and the pain had never left her. Her mother died a year later – partly from lung disease and partly from the loss of her will to live. Helen knew what was wrong with her, and didn’t want to hear it confirmed by a doctor. They could extend her life – in misery – for a couple of years maybe, but she wasn’t interested. She and Jack had enjoyed their close relationship for 31 years, and she couldn’t think of anything else she wanted to do before she passed on. She hurt when she thought about how it would affect Jack. He was always the independent sort who liked to believe he kept his emotions in check, but he had cried on her shoulder many times over the years.

    When the COPD was pulling her quickly toward her date with God, she and Jack made the most of those last few months, but he was crying at her bedside when she died.

    Jack tried to act like he could handle it – like a man – but after six months he realized his work meant nothing to him anymore. So he cashed out of his 401K and set about building the cabin. He planned it well. As a former ‘secret’ agent, he included security systems and an armory, where he had the latest of almost every hand weapon available. He also included a computer and communication system that could take him anywhere on the internet without leaving any trace of his presence behind. He built a secret room in the hidden basement of the cabin for his equipment and weapons storage, and equipped his Ford Sport Trac pickup with a secret compartment below the bed so he could take whatever hardware he might need anywhere in the country. Now his truck was parked out in the garage beside the cabin, gathering dust and cobwebs while Lynn was trapped in the emotional paralysis of her anguish.

    Lynn brought her thoughts back to the present, and started crying again. She was so emotionally drained that she rarely ate. The emotional pain was worse than any physical pain she had ever experienced. She felt trapped at the bottom of a steep-sided bowl. Whenever she got a spark of energy and tried to climb up out of it, the pull of . . . what? . . . dragged her back to the bottom. In her clearer moments she realized she was depressed, but didn’t have the energy to get help for it. During one clear moment she realized that depression feeds on itself, that it wants you to stay in its grip, but that fleeting thought led her nowhere.

    One night she woke from another Jack dream with so much pain that she got her pistol from the dresser drawer ands put the barrel in her mouth. As she started to squeeze the trigger she thought If I kill myself, will I go to Heaven to be with Jack? Is suicide an unforgivable sin? When she realized she didn’t know the answer, she put the gun away and went back to crying.

    Some indeterminate time later Lynn’s sleep was interrupted by someone pounding on the front door.

    Go away. I don’t want to talk to you. Leave me alone!

    Lynn, its Harriet and Rick. Open up!

    Who?

    Harriet and Rick Goodman, your two best friends. Now let us in.

    No. Go back where you came from.

    You forget that I’m a trained Federal agent. I can pick this lock in 30 seconds . . . of course it might not work after that. So unless you want it destroyed, open up!

    Lynn dragged herself out of bed and opened the front door.

    My God, Lynn. What’s happened to you! You look awful. Rick, avert your eyes until she gets something decent on.

    When Lynn came back in her robe and slippers Harriet already had a pot of coffee on.

    We’ve been trying to call you for days, but we get nothing but a busy signal.

    Yeah. I guess I let the battery run down on my cell phone. No, wait. I hid it under the sofa cushion. The battery’s probably dead anyway.

    Well, this morning we decided . . .

    Rick cut in with You decided, dear.

    As I was saying, we decided to come up here from The Farm to check on you. And it looks like it’s a good thing we did. Finish your coffee so I can put you in the shower – how long has it been, a week? I’ll get you cleaned up, dressed, and packed. We’re taking you back to our place.

    I don’t want a shower, and I don’t want to leave here. Just let me wallow in my misery.

    Not gonna happen, dear. We love you too much to leave you here. Now get going. You know I’m trained to get you in an arm lock and march you in there if I have to.

    Oh, Okay. I’ll take a shower, but I’m not leaving here.

    Harriet leaned over and whispered to Rick. Find a suitcase and pack everything you can find. And keep your eyes open for guns. If you find any put them in the car.

    As Harriet held Lynn under the shower, night clothes and all, Rick hollered I can’t find any clothes. All the drawers are empty . . . except for a Glock 15 pistol.

    Look in the laundry room. She probably hasn’t washed anything in weeks.

    It was a struggle, but they finally got Lynn dressed and into the back seat of their Cadillac Escalade.

    Chapter 2 – The Farm

    Lynn was asleep in the backseat when Rick and Harriet pulled up to the gate and entered the lock code. Rick drove up the long winding driveway and parked in the garage. Should we wake her up? Rick asked.

    She hasn’t been sleeping much. I guess the motion of the car lulled her to sleep. It’s like when our kids were little and wouldn’t go to sleep, so we would put them in their car seat and drive around the neighborhood. They would be out in a few minutes.

    Rick looked back at Lynn and said She sure seems comfortable. Can we just leave her here and go inside?

    I don’t know. What if she wakes up and panics? I think I’ll stay in the car with her until she wakes up.

    You want me to bring you anything? A snack, or a drink?

    No. I’ll just doze in the seat until I hear her making noises.

    Rick went into the kitchen, pulled a beer out of the refrigerator, and settled into his recliner to watch a game. Twenty minutes later he heard screaming from the garage. He grabbed his pistol from the kitchen drawer and dashed out the door. Lynn was in the backseat of the SUV screaming and thrashing around. Harriet climbed back there with her and took her in her arms to calm her down.

    Shhh. It’s Okay now. Harriet’s here. Try to calm down.

    Lynn stopped screaming and opened her eyes. Oh . . . it was another one of my dreams. Jack was there again . . . He was trapped in a fire in my Colorado home. His clothes were on fire and I couldn’t get to him. His skin turned to black ashes as I watched. It was awful.

    Rick and Harriet looked at each other. It was too early to tell her how Jack died. That would come when she wasn’t so fragile. She was still in some kind of mental state that blocked it all from her mind. It would take time for her to come back from there.

    Harriet helped her out of the back seat and led her into the living room. It was like leading a robot by the hand. She sat down stiffly on the couch and looked around. A puzzled look crossed her face for a few seconds, then she recognized her surroundings.

    We’re at the Farm, aren’t we. I recognize some of the furniture. I’ve been here before . . . and Jack was with us. Oh, Jack! Where are you. Why did you leave me? I miss you so much. I want to be with you. With that, she laid down on the couch and started crying softly.

    Harriet motioned for Rick to follow her into the kitchen. We need to leave her alone for now. Maybe she’ll go back to sleep. I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom with the door open so I can hear her when she wakes up.

    Harriet woke up in the morning to sounds from the kitchen. She thought Rick must be making coffee. He’s up early. She put her robe on and went in to give him a good morning kiss, but it wasn’t Rick, it was Lynn making the coffee.

    Good morning! I’m glad to see you’re up and around. Did you sleep well?

    Yeah, after I cried for a couple of hours. Maybe I cried some of the pain out, because I feel a lot better.

    Crying is one of the best therapies around – for women anyway. For men, not so much. It’s just not manly. It shows their vulnerability.

    Jack could cry when he got too emotional. It didn’t embarrass him to cry in front of me. Lynn froze in the middle of her coffee making.

    Harriet mentally kicked herself for bringing up something that made her think of Jack. I’ve ruined her good mood.

    After several seconds Lynn re-animated herself and went on with her task. That brought back a good memory of Jack. I felt so close to him when he shared his emotions. I need to keep bringing up the good memories to overpower the bad ones.

    Have you thought about getting some grief counseling, Lynn? When my sister lost her husband she was really depressed. I talked her into seeing someone and after a couple of months, with the help of anti-depressants, she was functioning again.

    No! I don’t want to share my hurt with anyone – especially a stranger.

    So you just want to wallow in your pain, huh.

    Lynn shot Harriet an angry look and said sharply, and I don’t need your advice either.

    Someone needs to be honest with you, dear. I’m your best friend and even if you get mad at me when I try to help, it won’t stop me. You have to talk about your pain, your memories, the joy you and Jack shared.

    Lynn paused for a minute. Yes, you’re right. You’re my BFF and if I can’t share it with you it will kill me.

    Rick and I are there for you now, but think about seeing a therapist later on.

    Lynn set two cups on the counter and poured their coffee, then gave Harriet a hug. They sat there quietly as they sipped and privately pondered the situation, each from their own perspective. Their thoughts were interrupted when Rick came in with a jovial Good morning, Ladies. Up early I see.

    They both returned the greeting as Lynn poured a cup for Rick. So what’s the plan, girls? Are you two going shopping today?

    Harriet answered There is no plan, Rick. We take this one day at a time.

    You have to have a plan! Otherwise you’re just drifting on the sea of . . . of life.

    Lynn answered. Drifting is all I can do right now, Rick. It took all the motivation I could pull together just to get up this morning. Depression sucks your motivation out of you. You know you need get up and do things, but just thinking about them tires you out.

    Well, I can’t drift. I need to be doing something . . . moving toward a goal.

    Fine, Rick. You go after your goals like fixing the sink faucet, or cleaning out the garage. Lynn and I will drift wherever our thoughts and conversation take us. When you finish those goals, let me know and I’ll get out my Honey Do List.

    I stepped right into that one, didn’t I dear. You two let me know if I can help in any way. I’m going to go to my study and check out the latest financial news.

    Rick turned on his state of the art, top of the line laptop – the same kind Lynn and Harriet . . . and Jack had. Less then a year ago they had come together as an informal group and named themselves the Forsetians, after the Norse god of justice. The four of them, along with Tom Gutierrez, tried to stop an unbalanced billionaire from buying the presidency of the United States. The man, Charles Winston, stopped at nothing to defeat his opponents. He started putting his hand-picked ultra-conservative people in Congress six years before the presidential election, using blackmail, lies, and even murder to get them there. In spite of the Forsetians attempts to expose Winston’s crimes, he won the Republican primary and then the Presidency. If Winston hadn’t been killed by a Chinese sniper, the country would be well on its way to self-destruction by now. Fortunately his successor, Marcus Tyler, has different plans for the country.

    Jack Preston was the unofficial leader of the Forseti group. He first uncovered Winston’s plot and, in trying to gather more information, drew in Lynn, Harriet, Rick, and Tom. Jack, with a Ph.D. in computers and electronics and several years of field work as an agent of the Federal Remediation Agency, was one of the best hackers in the world. Winston had hired a young Russian computer genius to stop Jack’s hacking attacks, but in the end he was no match for Jack.

    After Jack was killed and the Winston threat taken care of, the Forseti group went their separate ways. Their mission to save the country was finished. They still communicated with each other, but as friends rather that crusaders. While they were fighting the dark forces, Jack had bought them each the best laptop computers available. He installed his own encryption and firewall software so they could hack into government and corporate computer systems with no concern about a counter-attack getting through Jack’s digital mirror, as he called it. When the firewall detected anything suspicious coming in, it turned into a digital mirror and reflected it back into the computer that sent it. As soon as it got there it did its nasty work on that computer.

    With that protection Rick had no worries as he logged on to the internet using one of the false identities Jack created for them. He checked on the financial markets for the latest news, and then to the financial underground internet where he could find out everything that might affect the investment market before it became public. He saw no surprises there, so he moved onto the numbered offshore bank account where the Forseti funds were kept. As part of their investigation into Winston’s finances, Rick had found six million dollars stashed in a numbered account that Winston used to frame his political opponents with embezzlement charges. With Jack’s hacking skills they transferred the money to a new account to fund their activities against Winston.

    After Winston was eliminated, the group decided to divide up the money among the five of them. Rick would act as the banker for the account, and whenever one of them needed money they would contact him. So far no one except Tom had withdrawn money. He was going through a nasty divorce with a psychotic wife who was trying to deny him visitation rights with their two girls. Lawyers were expensive and Tom’s personal funds had been frozen pending the outcome of the divorce. Rick was a real estate millionaire before he joined the group, so he and Harriet didn’t need their share for now. Jack had money of his own because of several inventions he had sold to the Government. Lynn had inherited that, so she could support herself for a few years.

    Rick typed in the code word for the account and saw the balance sheet appear. The fund was doing well; its present value was over five and a half million. Rick had invested some of the total in several mutual funds specializing in treasury notes, government and corporate bonds, and energy futures – all rock solid triple-A rated investments.

    In the living room Harriet and Lynn sat side by side on the couch with their second cup of coffee. Harriet wanted to get Lynn talking about the good times with Jack, but knew she would be walking into an emotional mine field. She started at the beginning.

    I’ve only heard bits and pieces of how you and Jack first met. Fill me in on the details.

    Lynn sat still for a couple of minutes as Harriet waited apprehensively. Then she nodded her head and opened up. Well, it all started with an email I sent Jack . . . no, wait a minute. Let me go back to the real beginning. Jack and I grew up in a small town in the West Virginia coal country. We had eighth grade science class together and when he came into the room I was captivated. Tall – over six feet – well built, and good looking. And as I would soon find out, smarter than anyone else I knew. He knew more about physics and chemistry than the teachers. I was still shy around boys and didn’t go out with them yet, so I just admired him from a distance.

    Wait a minute! You two knew each other back in eighth grade?

    "Well, I didn’t really know him yet. But I noticed him stealing glances at me in class and in the hallway. I don’t remember how it came about, but he asked me to go to a movie with him. I said I would have to check with my mother first. But there we were the next Saturday sitting in the small local theater watching, of all things, Love is a Many Splendored Thing. I didn’t realize it until a few years later, but that movie wasn’t appropriate for kids our age. It was about a married newspaper correspondent having an affair with a woman doctor in China. Just before he had to leave she told him that he had knocked her up."

    Harriet laughed.

    Well that’s what they called it in our part of the country. Anyway, I don’t think either of us paid much attention to the plot. I was sitting there wondering if he would try to hold my hand and wiping my palms on my skirt every couple of minutes so they wouldn’t be sweaty just in case he did. He was probably trying to get up the courage to hold my hand and wondering what to do about his own sweaty hands.

    Where did it go from there? Were you high school sweethearts?

    No. My sister in Florida died so I had to move down there to raise her children.

    When was the next time you saw him?

    Forty years later. I was divorced and living in Telluride, Colorado. I spent a lot of time with my granddaughter, Selena . . . Lynn choked back a sob at that point.

    Harriet had forgotten that Selena and Jack were both killed in the same attack at Lynn’s mountain home. She took the coffee cups into the kitchen and fiddled around for a few minutes until Lynn got her composure back.

    Do you want any more coffee, Lynn?

    "No, I’m wired enough as it is. It’s been awhile since I could get up to make any for myself. Come on back. I can talk some more.

    Okay. If you are sure. I don’t want to upset you.

    "Actually, reminiscing about the old days makes me feel better. Let’s see . . . where was I. Oh, Yes. Me and my granddaughter. Anyway, she liked science projects and I remembered a demonstration Jack did back in science class. I thought she would like it, so I searched for his name on the internet. The first thing that popped up were several patents by Jackson Joshua Preston. The middle name is what tipped me off.’

    I knew Jack was smart, but he actually has some patents? What for?

    Mostly stuff for military use. I saw that the last couple of patents listed an address in the Washington D.C. area, so I went to Whitepages.com to find a phone number, but it didn’t come up with a match. There was a listing for Jackson Joshua Preston, Jr. out in California though, so I called him up and explained I was an old friend of his father’s and wanted to get his telephone number. He was hesitant about that, but I did manage to get an email address out of him. That’s when we started exchanging emails.

    Were they romantic? Did you have an online flirtation with him?

    No, nothing like that. He sent me instructions for the science project, and we summarized our lives for each other. After half-hearted invitations to visit if we were ever in the other’s neighborhood the emails stopped. I found out later that he had more important things to do.

    So when did he first show up at your place?

    A month or so later he calls me from Grand Junction and asks if I would like to meet him for lunch. I, of course, say ‘There aren’t any good restaurants in Telluride. Why don’t you come to my place and I’ll fix us something.’ So an hour later Jack shows up at my door, we eat lunch and talk over old times for the rest of the afternoon. He says he wants to get down into town before dark to find a motel room and I say ‘Stay here. I have extra bedrooms and we’re both adults. So we had dinner and a few glasses of wine and went to bed.

    You slept with him the first night?

    No, we went off to separate bedrooms and met again at breakfast.

    Wow, what a story!

    Just wait ‘til you hear the rest of it. It gets better – much better. So there we were, ham and scrambled eggs and I ask him what kind of work he did before he retired. He starts in with a line of bull about . . .

    Hi, girls. What’s for breakfast? I’m starved.

    You must be telepathic. Lynn was just talking about breakfast. Let me whip up something. How do you like your eggs, Lynn?

    As they finished the last of their breakfast Rick said I need to talk with you two about the Forseti fund. I just checked on our account and it’s doing nicely. After Winston was killed we decided to divide the $6 million five ways, with each of us getting $1.2 million – that’s grown to about $1.3 million since then. Now that Jack is no longer with us, I moved his $1.3 million over into Lynn’s account, leaving her with $2.6 million.

    Lynn spoke up immediately. No, that’s not right. Jack’s share should be equally divided among the rest of us. I don’t want any special favors.

    There’s no special favors involved here, Lynn. Jack worked harder than any of us to get Winston out, so he earned that money fair and square. I manage the account and I have made the decision. No argument allowed.

    He’s right Lynn. I know you don’t have any use for it now, but it will be there whenever you need it. Maybe you can start a new career with it.

    Not likely.

    Okay, that’s settled. Go on with your story about how you and Jack got together. Rick will enjoy hearing it.

    You mean I missed some of it? You have to go back to the beginning so I can hear it all.

    Another time, Rick. Go ahead Lynn. You and Jack were at you place in Colorado and he was answering your question about what he did for a living.

    Right. He told me that after college and graduate school he spent the rest of his career working for the Government as an engineer on several different projects that took him all over the world. When I asked him what kind of projects he got evasive and changed the subject. I learned later that he was a secret agent for the FRA – sort of like the FBI but with different letters. I thought maybe he wasn’t really retired because he spent a lot of time on his computer and telephone, but he wouldn’t talk about it.

    I think that’s when he called us, Rick. I was in the hospital recovering from an attempted murder by motor vehicle when he called and asked about some work I had done when I was with the FRA that hadn’t been closed out properly. He found a total of six cases like, that and eventually discovered the agents involved in three of them had died recently under suspicious circumstances.

    Yeah, he told me about that later. He eventually opened up to me a little and told me some of what was going on. What he didn’t tell me was that he was being chased by some people who were trying to kill him, but I wouldn’t find that out for a few more days. It was during those days that we started to grow close to each other. But that’s when the two men showed up at my door and all hell broke loose. We had to leave at night in a snowstorm over some mountain roads with them hot on our tail. After we finally got clear we met up with you two.

    When are you going to write a book about all your adventures, Lynn? It would be a bestseller for sure.

    I have already lived through it once. I don’t want to relive it.

    They spent the rest of the day discussing the adventures they all had after Jack and Lynn showed up at Rick and Harriet’s mini mansion they called The Farmhouse. They pursued their quest to discredit Winston from there for six weeks until Winston’s men ran them the four of them out.

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