Chapter 23

At the school there was an early flat nosed Dodge van ... nondescript white with muddy plates waiting. David pulled up behind the windowless Dodge and waited.

Alice saw the VW and started out the school front door. David and Jackie saw Alice swing the double doors wide and step out to the concrete porch. She waved.

Two slick looking slightly older fellas hiding on either side of the stone porch extensions jumped up and Alice cringed. At the same time the doors in the Dodge opened and a dark skinned Moorish looking guy stepped out. Alice opened her mouth to scream and the two men disappeared ... sorta ... they turned into jelly and oozed down the steps. The Moor stood open-mouthed for an instant and then reacted. He reached inside the van and came out with an AK47. The drivers side door exploded open and a second man dropped to the drive. He was swinging a large hand gun. He looked our way.

Jackie pointed an empty hand at him and he dropped the automatic. It hit the floorboard of the van and shot the Moorish looking guy in the back of the head. He reflexively squeezed the trigger, the recoil forced the barrel up, the 30 r0und magazine of the fully automatic Kalashnikov emptied and killed several low flying geese.

Feathers everywhere.

The driver jellied ... oozed ... and evaporated ... so did the two on the school steps. Evaporated ... with not a speck of evidence they ever existed. No crime scene was ever cleaner.

Attemped kidnapping across the street from the Police Precinct Headquarters is pretty damn stupid. It’s even worse when the van holds two more unconscious and ziptied teens. The front doors of the stationhouse was disgorging cops at an enormous rate. They were all headed our way.

David is a guy ... automatic suspicion...

“Driver! Hands where I can see ‘em.”

“Yes sir.”

“You! On the school steps. Sit down! Hands on your head!”

Sobbing, Alice sat down.

“Girl! ... passenger! ... step out slowly.”

Jackie complied.

She was looking ... intently ... at her hands. Her mouth was working ... nothing coming out.

“Jackie.”

She looked at me.

“ ... not a word. Lawyers are coming.”

“Yes sir.”

A large lincoln was slowly driving up the street. When it was stopped by the cop at the crossroad the door opened ... words were said. There was a discussion. The officer looked ... saluted ... and motioned the car forward.

“Passenger! Hands on head. I said...”

“I can’t.”

“Hands on your head!”

“I can’t.”

“If you don’t comply I shall take steps!” He cocked and pointed.

Jackie started to shake...”I can’t.”

The car pulled up ... the window went down...”Officer ... you pull that trigger and you will spend the rest of your life in maximum security.”

“What the fuck do you know ... sorry chief.”

They didn’t just send a lawyer ... they sent a New York State Supreme Court Justice and the Station Chief ... and two attorneys.

The judge got out of the car and said, “Jackie ... why can’t you comply?” How about that ... knew her name.

“They’re too heavy.” Jackie was shaking with the effort.

“May I help?”

“Please.”

He couldn’t pick her arms up.

He requested help. Two healthy cops couldn’t move her arms. They did manage to pick her up.

“She’s such a dainty thing ... why is she so damn heavy?”

By this time the requested ambulance arrived, the two unconscious girls in the Dodge were on their way to hospital and April had been questioned.

The cops had one body, two clean spots on the school steps, one clean spot on the road, one full-auto AK47/with NO markings and a 50 magnum pistol, onefired. One Dodge flat nosed van and three underaged teens. Two females and one male ... no witnesses and” I Don’t Know,” for answers.

The hospital had two teen girls recovering from a traumatic experience and “I Don’t Know” for answers.

Oh yeah ... and George and Mom.

After saying ‘‘It’s my kink,” Mom refused to talk to the social worker. Questions about her age went unanswered.

The CIA sprung her.