Chapter 10: Making New Friends and Enemies

The day started out very nice for me. It was one of those days when you feel full of piss and vinegar and ready to take on the world. I got to sleep in late for a change because one of my early morning meetings had been canceled.

When I finally made it out to the kitchen, Julie met me with a fresh cup of coffee and my favorite breakfast. One of my other Bond Mates, Samantha, thought my breakfast of six slices of bacon, well-browned hash browns, three eggs basted well, and a split English Muffin coated with butter and peanut butter was stupid. The first time Sam had prepared this breakfast for me, I mentioned that I preferred my eggs basted for I wanted to avoid the grease used in frying eggs. She told me that was good, but bacon was almost pure fat, she had to fry my hash browns in lots of butter to get them browned the way I liked them, and peanut butter had a lot of oil in it. Therefore, it made no sense to her to eat fat, butter, and oil when you are trying to avoid grease.

My late morning meeting with my Advisory Council members went smoothly with no new problems and close to half of the prior problems reported as resolved. My agenda for the afternoon was to tour the Auburn Silo. So a little before lunch time, I headed for my boyhood home that had been converted into the Auburn Freight Yard Office to begin my tour of the Auburn Silo.

Yes, the day seemed perfect. I wasn’t ready to head into the access tunnel yet, so I sat in the porch swing in front of the yard office, which had once been my home, and enjoyed the warm summer morning. As I finished my third cup of coffee, the day started downhill. Not with a bang, but with a low sustained rumble.

A long line of motorcycles turned into our construction parking lot and drove around the parked cars with engines rumbling, pipes rapping, and the riders weaving in and out amongst themselves. Finally, after completing their display of machismo, they parked at the front of the parking lot. The riders then formed up in a group of about 25 scruffy young men and women and made their way toward the yard office. Hoping to head off trouble, I rose to my feet, set my coffee cup down, and moved to intercept the group’s leader.

“Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. My name is Jon and I’m the manager here. Is there something we can do for you today?” I enquired.

The apparent leader of this group stepped forward with a short, busty blond attached to his waist. I looked him over taking in his unkempt hair and beard, and noted his dirty clothing. Standing at about 6’ 2” and weighing in at around 280 pounds, he reminded me of a gorilla. Yes, I checked his knuckles and they weren’t calloused from being dragged on the ground.

“Yeah, my lady here told me that you have an Ark and she wanted to see what it was like. So the boys and I decided we’d take our ladies on your tour. Where is it?”

His general demeanor and tone of voice told me that he and his boys were trouble looking for a place to happen. Despite his aggressive and demanding attitude, I decided to be as polite and diplomatic as possible.

“Well sir, your lady heard right in that the entrance to the Ark is located here, but unfortunately she was misinformed about tours. We don’t give tours to the public.”

Blondie spoke up in an annoying squeaky tone of voice, “That’s not true. My sister Frieda told me she was on a tour here last month.”

The gorilla turned back to me, “Are you lying to me and calling my lady a liar?”

Bob activated our link to let me know that there was a Frieda who went on our approved members’ tour.

“No sir, what she heard was right. However, the tour she heard about was a private tour that was comprised of people who we are considering for membership and key positions in the Ark Society.”

I had been checking blondie over while we had been talking and decided that while she looked like a fox, she was most likely just another dumb blond. However, if her sister was eligible for membership, maybe I was misjudging her. My third thought was I may be wrong about her intellect, but her choice of friends indicated that she probably wouldn’t fit in with the Ark Society. Besides with that voice, she didn’t appeal to me as a Bond Mate.

I don’t think the gorilla liked my answer or possibly he had noticed me checking out blondie for a cold, menacing glare came over his face. In a sarcastic tone, he asked, “And just how do we go about becoming members of your society?”

By this time, I had figured that diplomacy wasn’t going to work, but I still had to try.

“Well sir,” I replied, “you have to fill out a Membership Application, go through a Membership Interview, and the Membership Committee will then decide if you qualify for membership.”

Ah shit, it started out as such a nice, pleasant day. I then made my first serious mistake of the day by getting Bob involved.

“Bob, it looks like this is going to turn into trouble real fast. We need a plan for dealing with these assholes or someone is likely to get hurt real soon and real bad.“

The gorilla looked his friends over and turned back to me with a smug smile on his face, “Fuck that, friend. BCers don’t do applications and interviews, and we promised our ladies a tour of this Ark. So why don’t you just give us the tour before we have to hurt you and anyone who gets in our way.”

Stalling for time, I said, “I’m not familiar with the term BCers, but I assume it is the name of your motorcycle club.”

The gorilla said, “Yeah, we’re the BCers; BC stands for Billie’s Crew and I’m Billie Mackey.”

“Well Billie, Bob usually handles our tours, so let me contact him and see what he can arrange for your group.” Pulling out my cell phone, I acted as if I was dialing Bob.

“Bob, I don’t think they are going to leave peacefully. Do you have any ideas for getting rid of them?”

“Jon, your race is riddled with people who take pleasure in using violence to dominate people. This is one of the traits that Sharna and I are planning to try to eliminate during our next upgrade of the human race. Tell him that I will arrange a special tour just for his group, so have them go back to their motorcycles and wait for me. I’ll take care of the rest.”

I noticed a Deputy Sheriff’s car pull up near the motorcycles. So acting as if Bob had just answered the call, I mocked a conversation. “Bob, I have a group of motorcycle enthusiasts in front of the Yard Office who are insisting that we provide them with a tour of the Ark. Is there something you can do for them? Okay (pause), Okay (pause), Okay. Alright I’ll let them know.”

By then the gorilla and his boys had observed Deputy Sheriffs Bill Johnson and Sheryl Malloy get out of their patrol car and head in my direction. I had had dealings with them in the past. They were aware of the unusual activities that seemed to occur around me from time to time and of a few of my unusual abilities, although Bob had suppressed their memory of those abilities. As they passed the gorilla and his boys, Bill and Sheryl gave them an assessing glance then continued on to me. Bill started the ball rolling with “Morning Jon, how are things with you today?”

I knew that Bill was actually asking if I needed their help with this motorcycle gang. A quick glance at the gorilla and I knew that running them off would just delay the trouble that they represented. “Morning Bill, Sheryl, give me a couple of moments to finish up with these folks and then we can chat.” In other words, I think this situation is under control and your assistance does not seem to be needed, but standby in case I’m wrong.

“Well Billie, Bob told me that he could arrange a special tour for your group. He said he would be with you in just a minute, and he will meet you over by your bikes. You can leave from there, so if you enjoy interesting places and want to go on his tour, you need to wait by your bikes for Bob.”

With smirks that told me they knew that the gorilla had forced me to give them what they wanted, Billie, his boys, and their ladies went over to their bikes to wait for Bob; they probably wanted to get well away from Bill and Sheryl also.

I noticed Bill and Sheryl had given each other questioning looks when I mentioned Bob. I had explained my relationship with Bob to them on prior occasions, and Bob had suppressed active recollection of those memories. However, some subconscious recollection must have filtered through to their conscious minds.

“Bob, whatever you have in mind for these thugs, I hope it isn’t something that will require Bill and Sheryl to take official notice.”

“Don’t worry Jon, all Bill and Sheryl will see is them leaving on a tour that they agreed to go on and any laws that I do break will not be observed by them. However, it is getting close to the time when we need to recruit them for the Foundation, and this may present us with a good opportunity to start our Internal Security Force.”

I should have paid more attention to the first half of what Bob had said, but I focus on recruiting Bill and Sheryl, so I missed what he had actually said. As the group got to their bikes, I turned to Bill and Sheryl and asked, “What brings the two of you out here today?”

“The guard in your Freight Yard called 911 and he told the operator that a motorcycle gang pulled into your parking lot and appeared to be looking for trouble. We were close to this location, so the dispatcher sent us to take care of it.”

“Yeah, they were. I told them that we didn’t give tours of the Ark and then they made a few threats to coerces me into giving them a tour. Bob was monitoring them and people like them really irritate him, so he had me tell them that he would give them a special tour. What do you know about this group?”

Bill spoke up with “Well, they call themselves the BCers, and they are basically an outlaw motorcycle gang. We suspect that they are involved in transporting drugs into California from Mexico and of other illegal activities, but no one has caught them in the act yet.”

We looked over at the group and saw them impatiently waiting beside their motorcycles. We watched them for a few more moments. What appeared to be a heat wave appeared around and over the group and their motorcycles. Then the BCers and their motorcycles, encapsulated in the heat wave, started rising into the sky, constantly accelerating until they disappeared from sight. Turning to Bill and Sheryl all I could see was huge eyes and open mouths.

As they turned toward me, I just had to smart off, “Good riddance to bad rubbish. I hope they enjoy their tour.”

Sheryl was the first to recover and she asked me, “Jon, what are you doing to those people?”

Now I realized I had to be careful how I worded my reply, “Well Sheryl, I didn’t do anything to them. They insisted on us giving them a tour and Bob agreed to take them on a special tour. I passed Bob’s offer on to them, they accepted his offer without asking for any details. We just watched them leave on their tour. If they end up somewhere other than where they thought they were going, then they should have asked for more details about the special tour before they agreed to go. They will have to discuss that with Bob.”

Bill had recovered by then and as Sheryl started to say something, Bill took her by the arm and led her off a short distance. They had a short conversation then walked back to me. After several false starts, Bill finally said, “Jon, we’ve known you for a couple of years. There have been times where we were called out and you told us that certain actions were done by your friends Bob and Sharna. We always thought that you had done those things and were just trying to blame some mythical individuals. But those actions were not illegal, so we just accepted your statements. I guess we owe you an apology. After what we just saw, we have to accept that Bob and Sharna exist and your prior explanations were true.”

Bill looked over at Sheryl and made a go-ahead motion with his hand. I suspected our conversation was going to take a bit of time to complete, so I interrupted them and suggested that we sit down on the front porch and have a cup of coffee. After seating them in the porch swing, I went into the house to thank the guard for calling 911 and handing him my cup, I asked him to bring us three coffees and some milk and sugar. When I returned, I looked at Sheryl and asked her to proceed.

Sheryl had a worried look on her face when she started speaking, “Jon, Bill and I like you a lot and we tend to agree with you about the BCers’ departure being a good thing for the community. However, Bill and I have a job to do and we are not certain about the legality of what you and Bob have done. Now we heard what you told them about this being a special tour. It sounded to us as if they were expecting a tour of the Ark, but you never said that the tour was of the Ark. I imagine that taking a person to a destination other than the one they were expecting to be taken to could be considered miscommunication or possibly kidnaping. However based on what you told us about your telling them that you did not give tours of the Ark, their coercion, and their agreeing to go on a tour without asking where they were going, your actions do not appear to be illegal. I suppose we will have to wait until Bob brings them back and then we can talk with them and get their input before we make any decisions. When will Bob be bringing them back?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t give me any details of this special tour. I’ll contact him and find out what’s going on.”

“Bob, I’ve been talking with Bill and Sheryl. They are concerned about the legality of you taking that group on the tour, and they want to talk with the group to get their input. Where are you taking them and when will you be bringing them back?”

“Jon, as far as I’m concerned they came with me of their own free will. They never asked me where we were going, when we would be back, or anything else. I just finished dropping them off at Yousefabad Police Station in Tehran, Iran. I’m headed back home right now, so I should be there in less than a minute.”

Now I was the one in a state of shock. Apparently, I was sitting there repeatedly saying, “Shit, oh shit no”, as I tried to work out the implications of what Bob had told me and just how I should explain it to Bill and Sheryl. When I finally recovered enough to be aware of Bill and Sheryl, Bob let me know he was back and Bill asked me, “Is it that bad?”

“Worse, much, much worse, and the only good thing is no one was injured when Bob dropped them off; at least I’m not aware of any injuries. But for the rest of it, Bob’s plan for their special tour was a free trip to their destination, but his plan did not include return transportation. They will have to get back on their own. The worst part of his plan is he dropped them off at a police station in downtown Tehran, Iran. The last he saw of them, the Iranian police were walking toward them. If events proceed as I think they will, they won’t be returning any time in the near future.”

For the second time that day, Bill and Sheryl sat motionless with wide eyes and open mouths. We just sat there looking at each other and shaking our heads. Finally, Bill broke the silence, “Jon at this point I am not aware of any US laws that Bob violated. Although, I suspect that leaving someone in Iran without permission of their authorities would be a violation of Iran’s laws. Now Sheryl and I need to do our job, which at this time appears to be to brief the Sheriff on what we saw and heard, and then to put it into a written report. This is beyond our pay grade, so we are going to let the Sheriff decide what actions need to be taken.

“Furthermore, the Sheriff is going to think we are crazy, and if we write this up the way it actually happened, the Sheriff is going to demand that we see a Police Psychiatrist.”

At first, I wanted to hide everything that happened but I quickly realized the BCers would be telling their side of what happened. There was no way that I could completely bury these events.

“That’s okay with me Bill. I have no problem with your telling the Sheriff and filing a report. In fact, I think you need to get it done as soon as possible because when word of the BCers presence in Iran gets to the senior Iranian authorities, there is going to be an International Incident and the shit will hit the fan around here.

“In fact, I would like to sit down with the Sheriff and the DA, so we can get a clear idea of what illegal acts, if any, have been perpetrated and who is responsible for those acts. Do you want me to follow you back into town now?”

They agreed to my offer of help. So while heading to my car, I contacted Clara and briefed her as to what had occurred this morning and where I was going. When Bill and Sheryl pulled out of the parking lot, I pulled in behind their cruiser. Personally, I think they wanted me along for moral support when they told the Sheriff about their morning. I had also suggested that they radio in and request that the Sheriff have the DA meet with them, so we would only have to tell the story once.

The DA was already in the Sheriff’s office when we arrived, so Bill introduced me to Sheriff Mike Henderson and to the DA, Larry Miller. We moved to a meeting room and once the offer of drinks was out of the way, we sat down in very plush chairs at a large conference table.

Before anyone else could speak, I jumped in with a comment, “Mike, what Bill and Sheryl have to tell you and Larry will be very difficult to believe without proof. Now everyone can see the speakerphone that is sitting on the table. Can anyone raise it up to the ceiling without getting up from their chair?”

After a short delay and a few headshakes, I continued.

“I didn’t think so, but there are actually six people in the room and the sixth person is more than capable of lifting the speaker phone.”

The number 6 really got their attention.

“Bob, go ahead and lift the speaker phone so everyone knows that you are present.”

When the speaker phone rose up to the ceiling, at least as far as its cable permitted, and returned to the table, Mike and Larry’s astonishment was displayed by their wide eyes and open mouths and verbalized by a few fairly tame expletives. ‘Oh shit!” being the most common.

I started the conversation by telling everyone about Bob and Sharna. Bill, Sheryl, and I then told Mike and Larry about how the motorcycle gang wanted a tour of the Ark and about their threats of violence, when I told them I would not take them on a tour. We told them of how I had relayed Bob’s offer to take them on a special tour Bill and Sheryl explained what they saw after their arrival at the Freight Yard. We also described what Bob had told me about the delivery of the motorcycle gang to the Iranian police in Tehran.

Needless to say, Mike and Larry asked numerous questions during and at the end of our tale. When they asked for more details on Bob’s dropping them off, we found out that Bob had made several high-speed passes at the police station in order to get the attention of the police, and the passes resulted in major sonic booms. He then landed the BCers in the compound that the police used to allow their prisoners to get fresh air and exercise. Bob also admitted that the sonic booms had resulted in broken windows at the police station and in neighboring buildings.

We broke for a 10-minute bathroom break, and during the break, I updated Clara on what was happening and let her know that I would probably be late getting home. When we finally got back to business, we started talking about the diplomatic issues of our motorcycle gang arriving in Tehran uninvited. When we finished that part of our discussion, we decided that we would contact the State Department before we continued with anything else, so they would at least be aware of the probability of receiving a Diplomatic Protest from Iran.

We temporarily adjourned our meeting, so Mike and Larry could contact the State Department concerning the motorcycle gang’s entry into Iran. Granted it was after their normal business hours, but like all good bureaucracies, it was virtually impossible to reach the proper person and report the incident. After working upward through several layers of isolation, Mike and Larry gave their listener the basic story of the gang’s arrival and left their contact information for when the State Department finally realized that they needed more information. Based on the nature and working speed of government agencies that would probably be sometime after they received a complaint from Iran.

By the time Mike and Larry had finished, it was getting close to dinnertime. We headed to one of the local diners for a bite to eat, and then returned to finish discussing the legal implications of today’s events. Larry finally concluded that charges could possibly be brought against both the motorcycle gang and me. However, I could claim self-defense concerning my actions, which would make it very difficult to prove the charges in court. He also indicated that Bob was wide open for a variety of charges relating to his transporting the gang to Iran. Larry also admitted that for practical reasons, it would be virtually impossible to arrest, charge, prosecute, and incarcerate Bob.

Since it was almost 8:00 PM, we decided to end our meeting and do the paperwork in the morning. Bill and Sheryl had their incident reports to do. Tomorrow Mike, Larry, and I would write out and sign statements about our involvement in today’s events. I mentioned that if Mike and Larry wanted to get a full night’s sleep, then it would probably be a good idea to let their offices know that they were not to be contacted until after 6 AM. I don’t know if they did for I left immediately after that. I doubt that tomorrow morning would be as nice as this morning had been. What a shitty end to the start of such a nice day.

The next morning, I cleaned up, had breakfast with Clara, Samantha, Julie, and Mary, and I then sat down at my computer to write up a statement of yesterday’s events. Actually, I made a couple of calls while preparing my statement, one to the Ark Foundation’s lawyer, Harry Farrell and the second to Mike. I wanted to make sure that my statement covered the facts in a way that I would not be brought up on charges and I left a message to let Mike know I would be at his office in an hour or two to give him the statement. Once I had completed and reviewed my statement, I downloaded the file to my thumb drive and headed to my office at the Ark Foundation. While reviewing the statement with Harry, I made several changes that Harry recommended and I then called Mike’s office.

“Jon, I wasn’t able to reach Larry until about 15 minutes ago and he said he would come to my office as soon as he could. Can you come over right away?”

“Sure thing Mike, I was getting ready to head your way now and should be there in about 20 minutes.”

As I walked into the Sheriff’s Station, I ran into Larry who was waiting for Mike to finish a phone call before we met to discuss the BCer situation. After about ten minutes, Mike appeared and guided us to a meeting room. Closing the door, he said, “Things have been chaotic enough for me today, what with the problems that the State Department and FBI have created for me, so my phone call with Senator Blucher is just the cherry on top of the sundae.”

He proceeded to provide us with a chronological briefing of what transpired since we had split up last night. The diplomatic shit hit the fan back East at about 5:15 AM Eastern Standard Time, that’s 2:15 AM Pacific Standard Time. The State Department quickly learned of Mike and Larry’s call last night, and of course, they had to talk to them immediately. By 3:30 AM our time, the State Department had called both the Sheriff and the DA’s offices. The DA’s office was closed so no one answered, and the Sheriff Department’s operator had been told to not contact Mike until after 6:00 AM. The operator told the State Department that she would pass the message on to the Sheriff. The State Department called back at 3:45 AM and wanted to know why the Sheriff had not returned their call. The operator told the State Department that she had orders to not contact her boss until after 6:00 AM local time and that she would notify him then.

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to tell the State Department because a few minutes before 5:00 AM, the FBI was loudly knocking at Mike’s front door. When Mike answered the door, the FBI told him there was a National Emergency in progress and that he had to come with them immediately. They immediately bundled him into their car and drove him to FBI Headquarters in Sacramento.

While one agent escorted Mike to a second floor interview room, the second agent obtained a phone and plugged it into one of the room’s phone jacks. The agent then dialed a number and when it was answered, the agent handed the phone to Mike. Mike told me in infinite detail about his conversation.

“Sheriff Henderson, this is Thomas Tyler and I’m an Assistant to Undersecretary of State George Lyle. I’m sorry about having you brought in this way, but you and your department have to understand that the situation with the motorcycle club in Iran has become a National Emergency and we can’t afford to wait around until you people decide that you are willing to talk with us. Now I have been kept waiting long enough to find out what you know about this motorcycle club situation, so start talking.”

“Well Mr. Tyler, let’s start with your comment about this being a National Emergency. Now I know what happened up until the motorcycle gang arrived in Tehran and at that point, there is nothing that would warrant you calling this incident a National Emergency. I suspect that your boss wants information, and since you couldn’t get through to me immediately, you decided to call this situation to a National Emergency so you could justify calling in the FBI and having them pick me up. One other thing, the BCers is an outlaw motorcycle gang, not a club.

“Now about my department and me not doing our duty, we suspected that the motorcycle gang being left in Iran might cause an International Incident and would probably lead to a Diplomatic Protest from Iran. So last night, I called the State Department and for over two hours I talked to several of your people telling them what happened and trying to convince them to put me through to someone who could handle a sensitive matter. Your people didn’t seem concerned and they didn’t want to talk with me about the matter. They informed me that they knew how to handle a situation like what I described without my help. They basically told me that I should go sit in a corner with my thumb up my ass, until they decided if any further input was needed. I suggest you get your people out of bed and talk with them for I told them everything that I know about this situation.

“You were able to get the FBI to jump through your hoop, but I’m not inclined to do so this early in the morning. I am going to have these gentlemen take me home. I will then have my morning coffee, eat breakfast, get dressed, and go into my office. When I get there, I will contact the appropriate people necessary to discuss the matter with you, and if we are of a mind to do so, we will get back to you later this morning. Good bye.”

Mike told me that after he hung up the phone, he looked at the two FBI agents and asked them their opinions of the State Department over inflating the situation in order to get them to do their bidding. While they were talking, the phone rang and it was answered by one of the FBI Agents. He handed the phone to Mike saying that it was Tyler calling back. Mike took the phone and hung it up without listening to what Tyler might have to say; and then just smiled at the agents and told them about what had happened the previous day. After hearing Mike’s side of the situation, they indicated that they suspected that the State Department had been jerking them around and were not pleased, if that is what happened. Mike and the agents talked for a few minutes about the politics they had to put up with in their respective positions, and then the agents took Mike home. The phone started ringing as they left the room.

Mike went on to tell us about trying to reach us once he had gotten into the office this morning. He finally got through to Larry, and I called him shortly after that. Five minutes or so after talking to me, Senator Harold Blucher was put through to his extension. Rather than tell us about the conversation, he played the recording of his conversation with Senator Harold Blucher; all of his calls are recorded automatically.

“Sheriff Henderson, this is Senator Harold Blucher. I just got off the phone with my daughter Sara Clark, and she told me my granddaughter Melanie Smith did not come home last night. She said she called the Sheriff’s Department to report the matter and she was told that she could file a missing person’s report, but there was nothing you could do until at least 24 hours after she had gone missing. While I understand the reasons behind the 24-hour policy, I also know Melanie and I believe something is wrong. I am hoping you can see your way to calling my daughter and letting her know you will do all that is in your power to locate Melanie.”