Chapter 15: Confusion

Rachel returned to the living room and tried to watch television. The brainless game show irritated her. The fifty pounds overweight contestant bubbled and bounced as the excited game show host informed her she had won another thousand dollars because she could name the two most popular ingredients in American cooking, salt and sugar.

There was more to the meeting she had with the two FBI agents at the hospital. Nothing the FBI did was accidental. The problem with the federal cops, she decided, was they couldn't be trusted. She eased herself back in the recliner and closed her eyes. Whom could she and Mark trust? She was positive no one in law enforcement could be trusted, especially the feds.

Something seemed especially wrong with that whole supposedly chance meeting at the hospital. Both agents seemed to have different hidden agendas. The one seemed more like a street cop than a federal agent. There was something wrong with situation she and Mark found themselves in.

She had no doubt that they were feds of some sort. But were they FBI? So many questions, so few answers. "What next?" she asked aloud. Rachel Jones shook her head and tried to concentrate of the problems they faced.

She was reminded of the upper management at Cheswick and they way the department heads related to the female employees. Their mouths said one thing and their eyes said something else. They acted ever so helpful. Yet, for some reason there never seemed to be any action to back up their words.

"Oh yes!" she exclaimed aloud. She remembered the tag line of an old joke about one of the three greatest lies ever told, "I'm from the government and I am here to help you." She remembered the other two "greatest lies" and grimaced.

Rachel began to concentrate of what the FBI or whomever was directing the two agents could be after. Why were Mark and Cole, mostly Cole, able to find all those huge amounts of money in bank accounts scattered all over the world? Why could two amateurs, Mark and Cole, gifted though that might be, find the money in those hidden accounts and the trained federal investigators couldn't?

The cordless phone on the end table next to Rachel sounded. "Yes?" she said into the small instrument.

"Rachel, I've sent one of Josh White's guards to bring you back here. It might be best if you leave Margaret to watch over Mark and whoever else is there with you. Representatives from the Attorney General's office are here. They're asking questions I am neither able nor willing to answer unless you're present.

Gina seemed disturbed about something she had left unsaid. "Del and Will are both unavailable. Please don't ask any questions and definitely don't talk to anyone until you are able to meet with Del and Will. Your telephone and this one are probably both tapped by who knows who-all. Damn!"

"I want to go with you, Mom." Cole came into the living room. "Mark's sleeping and I'm bored." Rachel noticed he had a cordless phone in his lap. He had been listening on the extension in Mark's office.

She decided not to chastise him. What good would it do? "Okay, Honey, you may come along. One thing, and I mean it, Cole Jones, you will not open your mouth and interrupt anyone. Now I mean it and you will be sent home if you don't obey me."

The synthetic smile on Cole's face was less than reassuring to Rachel. "Sure, Mom, you can depend on me."

Rachel raised her eyes heavenward, "Why an I not reassured?" They looked at each other and smiled. "You brat," she told him. Her son had the ability to lift her spirits with nothing more than a smile.

"Would you mind if I found out what's going on here?" Margaret came into the living room from the kitchen.

"Oh," Rachel was startled that Margaret had walked up to her unnoticed. "Gina has sent one of Josh White's bodyguards to escort me to the office. I would like you to remain here with Claire and Mark."

"I quit," Margaret looked ready to do battle. "Nobody ever sees fit to let me know what's going on. You give me orders and never explain anything. Mike may have not been the perfect man, not by any means. There was one thing about him, though, we at least we all knew where we stood with him.

"We also knew what was happening. I'm out of here." She turned around and walked upstairs to the room assigned her.

"What's going on?" Mark looked from Rachel to Margaret's retreating back. He stood in front of Rachel in only his underwear.

"Mark, what are you doing out of bed? Please come over here and sit before you fall over."

"What's she acting so pissed about?" Mark asked and pointed his thumb toward the stairs. He had trouble with his balance, as he walked over to the recliner Rachel relinquished for him.

"I believe she resents me and you as well. She misses your father. I don't know what else."

Mark nodded and eased himself down into the recliner. He asked, "Where are we going?"

"Cole and I are going to the office. I hope you're going back to bed."

"No way. I'm going in with you."

Rachel was surprised when he added, "I want everyone to know I support you all the way and your word is final. Let's go, as soon as I get dressed. I'll need you to help me with my shoes."

Rachel helped Mark up out of the recliner and followed him back into their bedroom. While he got dressed in loose shorts and a tee shirt, Mark continued, "I don't know how much longer I'm going to be laid up with whatever all is wrong with me. I have a hunch it might even be for the rest of this year, the way I feel. It's now the middle of June. So I figure you'll still the big boss until at least some time in November."

Rachel looked at him in surprise. "What brought this on? You're usually of the notion that you'll be up at full speed in just a few days."

"My body won't do what I tell it and, Babe, and I'm worried. No, I'm scared. We better get married before I check into Scripps's. That will give you more legal protection than a simple power of attorney or signed and notarized authorization."

Rachel started to shake her head no. The doorbell chimed before she could answer aloud. Claire opened the door and let a stranger into the house. He looked every bit the federal agent he claimed to be. "FBI," he told her and held up his ID card.

"What do you want?" she demanded in a hard voice.

"Mrs. Jones, that attitude will get you into a lot of trouble, if you persist in showing it."

"Cut the bullshit and tell us what you want." Mark eased away from Rachel and stood at the ready, in a defensive stance. He fought the wave of dizziness that threatened him.

"I am here to help..." the agent began.

"Oh yes, it goes, 'I am from the government and I am here to help you, ' the biggest lie of them all," Rachel interrupted and finished the sentence for him.

The door chimes sounded again. In seconds, Claire escorted two hard looking men into the living room. The larger of the two stepped over next to the FBI agent and stared hard. His partner nodded to Mark and told Rachel, "We're here to escort you to your office. Gina said to get you there as fast as we can."

The larger of the two newcomers told the federal agent. "Call your boss. Gina says you're out of the loop."

"I'm coming along," Mark told them. "One of you guys get the van out of the garage and bring it around to the front. The key is in the ignition. We want to have our own transportation to come home in. Cole is coming along with us." He fought another wave of dizziness.

"You're Mark Hunter?" the FBI agent asked.

"Yes and I heard the man say you're out of the loop. That means beat it. Mark was surprised the man didn't argue.

Twenty minutes later they entered the Cheswick bank and took the elevator to the fifth floor. The FBI agent had followed them in his own car. Rachel led the way and reached to open the door to her offices. It opened before her hand could make contact.

"God, get in here. These two men are from the Attorney General's Office." She pointed to two suits that stood to one side and a little behind her. "They say the government is about to claim your land through eminent domain."

"Get me a chair," Mark ordered. The receptionist wheeled Rachel's office chair over to him. Mark sat down hard and kept quiet. Gina was surprised at the peremptory sound of Mark's voice. Then she looked at him and understood. Mark was in pain.

"Call Josh and tell him we need four more just like you two to handle security." Rachel told the pair of new bodyguards. I want three of you on hand to escort Mark, me and my son Cole wherever we go."

"Mom. I don't need a baby sitter, I'll be fifteen in two days." Cole looked ready to rebel.

"What about us?" Jerry asked. We've been with Mike for five years.

Rachel looked at one of the two remaining members of the team Mike had put together before his death and took a deep breath. As she let it out, she told him, "Jerry, Margaret just quit. Other than you and Buck, the rest of your crew is in the hospital. If you decide not to follow Margaret, your job is to be here in this office. I want the two of you to watch after Gina and her staff."

Del and Will came into the office and smiled at Rachel, then Mark. "Good, we're all here," Will said in his quiet voice.

"We have some good news and some bad news," Del told them in clipped tones."

Will took over, "The bad news is that all that money you found and reported has been impounded by the US Government."

"Yeah, we already figured that one out," Cole told them and frowned.

"Well, what's the good news?" Rachel asked. Because the over twenty billion dollars had never seemed real to her, she felt no sense of loss.

"There is small percentage of the two billion dollars recovered that is due the finder or finders as a sort of reward.

Rachel looked at the two lawyers in surprise. "The last I heard, the amount to be recovered was twenty billion dollars."

Del gave her a smile that held no warmth. "Ah yes, it seems that the federal government claims prior knowledge of that collection of bank accounts. They found the money first, or so they say. This means it is exempt from the rewards system as they pertain to discovery of illicit funds."

"Del, Will," Rachel held up her hand as if directing traffic, "Those funds were in foreign banks in accounts owned by foreign nationals. Please tell me how our own government is able to justify the fact that they grabbed all that money they had no legal right to under any circumstances. Someone is lying here and it isn't us."

Will held up his hand and gave her a two word answer, "Executive order. The previous mental vegetable in the White House justified these actions by stating that all monies from drug dealers are automatically the property of the US Government, no matter whose bank they are in. These actions are merely an extension of the original decree."

"Bottom line, none," Will answered. "I have worked out a deal that permits Mark to retain ownership of all Hunter stocks and real property. Of course that includes this building and the banking facilities in place herein."

"In return, you remain silent and let the feds take all the cash and glory that they will take anyway."

"We'll take it," Mark said.

"Mark!" Rachel exclaimed, "Shouldn't we discuss this at least a little?"

"No. Rachel, there are times to attack and times to retreat so you can lick your wounds and return to fight battles you have a chance to win. We'll take it."

"Well, while we're rolling over, what about your 'skin farm, ' as you so lovingly named it?"

"We're protected there." Mark held up his hand to signal an end to further discussions. "Take me to the hospital. I god damned hurt."

"They need your signature on two documents," Gina told him.

Mark signed the two documents, then leaned back in the office chair and closed his eyes.

"Ugh!" Mark grunted and opened his eyes. He was confused. "What? Where am I?"

"Oh Mark, you're in Scripps's Hospital."

"Christ, I hurt. What?" He blinked his eyes and tried to shake his head. A wave of dizziness caused him to close his eyes.

"Mark, what happened is that you fainted." Rachel stood up and a nurse entered the private room.

"Please wait outside," the nurse told her. "You may continue your visit in about an hour. She made a shooing motion wither hands and Rachel left.

Two doctors entered and began the routine Mark had become well familiar with during the past few months. "Do you know what day this is? Say ah. Where does it hurt?"

"Well?" Mark asked when the examination seemed over. "Am I going to live?"

The doctor told Mark, "We need one of your parents to sign a consent form for further treatment before we can continue."

"Fuck this, I'm out of here. Where are my clothes?" Mark struggled to sit up.