Chapter 18: The Imperfect Solution

The other five deputies with Rita Lane looked at her in askance. "She looked at Cole and demanded, "What did you just do?"

"I released copies of the Golem Oil agreement to all the news services and anybody else I could think of." Cole had a proud grin on his face.

"Yes," Wendy exclaimed. "Then he destroyed all the files on both our computers. My Cole knows how to create a simple version of homemade thermite. He uses aluminum powder, ferrous oxide and a magnesium trigger material, plus steel wool and sulfur. He found a copy of the "Anarchist's Handbook" on the Internet and copied the recipe he used today."

"Take them all down town. I want big boy here charged with assaulting a federal officer and resisting arrest." Rita Lane stared hard at Sam. He wiggled his eyebrows at her and grinned.

Three days of intensive questioning brought no results. On the fourth day after their arrest, they were all released. Cole had a bruise on his face where he had been knocked to one side. He had tried to help Wendy stand up after one questioner shoved her down to the floor. And tossed her crutches to one side. Wendy became hysterical and Rachel was livid. By the time they were freed without any explanation, Mark swore to himself someone was going to pay and pay hard. Mark staggered drunkenly as Sam helped him walk. For the time being, they were free.

Del and Will met them in front of the Federal Building. "Stand here for a moment," Del said. Without warning, Wendy and Cole were surrounded by news people.

"What?" Rachel exclaimed. "What's going on here?"

"Well, that big woman in the loud floral print pants suit is from a British newspaper. Playboy sent a news team, and even the Europeans are well represented."

Cole's bruise and Wendy's skinned knees were photographed over and over. "They knocked Cole to the floor when he tried to help me!" Wendy screamed.

Will looked down the block. "Here comes our ride. A stretch SUV pulled into the curb and a husky man wearing black combat fatigues jumped out onto the sidewalk. "Quick, get in," he told Sam. Four more men in black uniforms came out the middle side door on the driver's side and rescued Cole and Wendy from the mob of reporters.

"Wait!" Cole yelled to his protectors. "I want to say something."

"What?" one of the reporters called to him.

"The government made war on two handicapped kids and their family. The FBI knew in advance that all of this was going to happen. They let it happen." He leaned hard against Sam and said, "Well if you go to my home page and log on, you'll see why the FBI won't act to protect us." He gave them his home page address.

"They kept claiming that Mark was the Ghastly Ghost. Well they were wrong again. I am the Ghastly and they were too dumb to see it."

"Get in the car," Sam told Cole. "Kid you have to learn to keep your mouth shut."

"What did you just do, Cole?" Rachel demanded. "You didn't just shoot your mouth off back there. I know you, Cole. What did you just do?" Her voice was tinged with hysteria. When he didn't answer, she sat back in her seat and withdrew back inside herself.

Cole and Wendy got comfortable next to each other. Then Cole smirked and said, "I just released a copy of the FBI surveillance tapes that showed the Vice President and Consuela Mendoza naked. His wife is naked in the background. Man, they're all three butt ugly with their clothes off. If it's after ten AM, the pictures were emailed automatically."

Wendy had calmed down. She added, "We also let out all of the recordings of their conversations we could access." She sat back and snuggled closer too Cole.

"We set up a time bomb that went off yesterday. That web page was set up to activate if I didn't reset the timer at least every other day.

"We got a tail," Sam told the driver.

The driver laughed, "We have three of 'em. Those are our guys. If someone tried to interfere with us, the follow team will run interference."

"How much is this costing us?" Rachel asked.

"Forget that. How much more protection do we need?" Mark had remained quiet after they got in the limo. "Now I know how Assange felt when the US agencies tried to railroad him into prison."

Sam and the leader of the protection detail from Josh White's security firm looked at each other. Sam frowned and thought of a way to soften the news. "Mark, if they really want you, well, they got you no matter how much protection you have."

Rachel looked at Wendy and Cole as they hugged each other. The raw anger in her voice made Mark sit back. "Those ... those bastards are not going to win. We've been sitting ducks for their tactics. I want to have my baby and a happy marriage. We three found a measure of happiness with each other. They are trying to take it away from us."

She clenched her fist and added, "Now Wendy has become one of us. I want her and Cole to have a chance. Those ... those bastards are not going to win. No, not this time."

"Wait, stop and think." Mark held up a cautionary hand. "Rachel, I have been like a spoiled brat at times and dove headlong into trouble at others. The brain tumor, all the physical problems I've had to work through have caused me to think. Let's plan, and then act according to a plan. We can't win in a straight out, head to head confrontation. On the other hand, we might come out with our heads still on our shoulders, if we use our brains."

"What do you have in mind, Mark?" Rachel grabbed his hands and kissed both palms. "Honey, you sound more like your old self."

"Babe, there's a difference. Before, I was driven by anger. Now I want for us all to survive."

The driver pulled up in front of their house and stopped. The television and tabloid reporters had gotten there first and were ready and waiting with more questions. "Damn them! Won't they ever leave us alone?" Rachel sobbed as she looked out the rolled up window.

"Honey, relax. They are our friends. They just don't know it yet and wouldn't if they did know. They want a story and we want closure." Mark's grim smile seemed to promise someone was in for a vengeful surprise. "Let's just hope we were left with our property intact."

Two men in black uniforms stepped out of the house and waved them in. Del walked out of the house behind them and yelled, "Get in here!" He rushed to the SUV and opened the rear passenger side door.

Cole was helped out, then Wendy. Will stood to the side of the SUV and waited. Sam handed Rachel out of the vehicle and nodded to Mark. Mark let himself out and stood straight. He seemed to draw strength from inside himself somewhere. "Be it ever so humble," he said under his breath.

The four black clad members of the protection detail that had met them at the federal building formed a phalanx around Mark and Rachel. Sam shoved a way clear for another man to bring Cole's power chair through the news media members. Cole grinned and yelled, "Yes!"

The four vehicles that had escorted Mark, Rachel and the teens home all parked on the front lawn and the rest of their detail got out. They joined the four that surrounded Mark and Rachel.

"I want to sit on Cole's lap," Wendy called in a thin, quivery voice. "May I Cole?"

"Come here," Cole told her. Will gave her his arm and helped her over to the waiting Cole.

Once they made it to the front door, Mark stood tall and looked in charge. The long-term illness, the abuse at the hands Lieutenant Talbot of the Sheriff's office and all the other problems he had encountered combined to change him. "Wait," he told Sam and the protection detail.

"What is it, Honey?" Rachel asked.

"If you assholes will shut up, I would like to give you a statement." The petulant teenager was gone. "The skateboard kid," as one newspaper reporter had dubbed him had matured. The partially shaved head seemed to emphasize his more mature new self.

"Oh please, Mark," Rachel begged, "Don't say anything that will bring those horrible people back. Please, Honey, be careful."

Mark held up his hand and the reporters all fell silent. "I don't know whether Senator Winthrop has been arrested yet, but he is an employee of the Mendoza Drug Cartel, one of the three that control ninety percent of the illegal drugs that are smuggled into this country from Mexico."

"Didn't you know that he committed suicide?" one of the print reporters called to Mark.

"What did he do, shoot himself in the back of the head two times while his hands were tied in front of him?" Many of the reporters started to yell questions at Mark again.

"What do you know of the senator's death?" a television reporter asked.

Mark held up his hand for silence. "The day we were arrested, Senator Winthrop told me in front of witnesses that if I released certain pictures we had, he would be dead by this weekend. The pictures were of the senator and his wife nude, with Consuela Mendoza, the niece of Raphael Mendoza, the head of the Mendoza drug Cartel. The picture was taken by the FBI at a Nude Beach up near Monterey, California, not Mexico."

"Shut up," Del ordered. Without another word, Mark turned and went inside his house.

"Hey Mark, they took our computers," Cole called from the half destroyed home office. "What'd they want with burned up motherboards and hard drives?"

"Only God knows and he ain't telling," Mark answered and laughed.

Claire came down from the second floor. "I thought I heard people down here." She saw Mark and smiled. "Honey, are you okay?"

"We're all bruised, but at least we were able to get turned loose."

Del interrupted, before Mark had a chance to answer, "Let's save any serious conversation for another time and place." He cupped a hand to his ear and pointed to the ceiling.

Cole spoke up before Mark could say anything back to Del, "Wendy and I are going to the mall. I want..."

"Sam, take three men with you and cover Cole and Wendy I want you in charge of Cole's protection. Get some female type protection to cover Rachel and Mom. Since Wendy goes where Cole goes, you'll need one with you at all times."