A Prim and a Prophet - Cover

A Prim and a Prophet

Copyright© 2019 by Christopher Podhola

Chapter 8: A Careful Approach

“I see now that the queen of our world has her mind on the cities of another and Jo-Laina is not alone, but interfering with the balance of the grey is risky.”

Excerpt from the diaries of Panpar

Jim Ceiphart pulled the Leighton S.U.V. over to the side of the road about a quarter of a mile from the Leighton house. The director failed to mention he had the Leighton parents in custody already; that they were already on their way to the bunker, and that their S.U.V. was sitting on the side of the road, keys still in it, when he got to within ten miles of the Leighton home.

Prick, he thought to himself as he got out of the truck. He headed to one of the vehicles behind him and the driver window rolled down as he walked up to it. The person sitting there was referred to as John. It wasn’t Agent Johns, or John so and so, or agent, or anything else. It was just John and he seemed to be talking to himself as he walked up. Jim couldn’t hear what he was saying but the words sounded foreign.

They were the last two to arrive at the Leighton home. The rest of the team was in place surrounding the home at a thousand foot perimeter. The rest would approach when the two of them pulled into the driveway, but would remain out of sight unless things went sideways.

“We don’t use force or threat of force unless it becomes absolutely necessary, and even then we probably still don’t. Got it?”

“These assets are listed black,” John replied.

John’s reference suggested they were to be collected and if they couldn’t be collected, they were to eliminate them. “I know what they are listed as, but ‘black’ or not we will not use force or threat of force, got it?”

“It was a mistake to wait for you,” John said blankly. “You’re not committed.”

Jim smiled internally. No, he thought, the mistake is having you here. Your commitment might get us all killed. “Do you understand my orders or not?”

“I understand, but I do not agree. Agree or not I will follow your directions.”

Is this guy a friggin’ computer or what? Ceiphart thought to himself. Then he answered his own question. Of course he is. He would have to be for him to do the things he’s ordered to do.

“We approach carefully. We make no sudden movements and no rushing the house. We go up to the door; knock and then we talk the twins out.”

“Understood,” John replied.

Jim got back into the S.U.V. and finished the distance to the house, pulled into the driveway, got out of the truck and started down the sidewalk leading to the front porch. As he was walking up he heard John’s car door open, but Jim didn’t look back. He kept walking up to the front door.

He reached his hand up to the doorbell button but looked back for John, who wasn’t there.

“Son of a...” he began to say, but he turned back to the front door, and saw John’s shadow moving through the house. “Shit!” he cursed under his breath. He tried the door and it was unlocked. He opened it quietly and walked inside.

John already disappeared down the hallway and Jim made his way behind him. Just as Jim rounded the corner, John was rounding the corner into a bedroom. He quickened his step to the doorway. As he looked inside, John was pulling a needle out of the teenage boy’s neck. He juiced him and, if everything worked normally, the boy would be out for at least two hours, which would be plenty.

“One down,” John mouthed quietly and Jim couldn’t help but feel a huge sense of relief. This man had no idea what he was dealing with. What could that teenage boy have done to him if he awoke?

Jim took the lead going to the next bedroom. He quietly opened the door where Whitney lay sprawled on the floor as he stepped inside. John passed him as he made his way to her sleeping body and plugged her in the neck, just as he had with the Leighton boy.

“I have to say this really was overkill. It was the easiest operation I’ve ever had. My half-witted cousin could have done it.” He touched the side of his earpiece, “Bring in the meat wagon,” he said to an unseen listener and he disappeared back through the bedroom door.

Jim bent down to Whitney’s side. She was unconscious when they arrived, but he didn’t understand why. She had a small, black stone with a thin gold chain clutched in her hand and he plucked it out. He hadn’t ever seen a stone exactly like it, but other than the fact that it was black, it appeared rather ordinary to him. Ordinary or not, he put it in his pocket.

“Her greatest enemy has a boldness that is chilling and his craftiness makes the Shooktah look like ducks in a pond.”

Excerpt from the diaries of Panpar

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