sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you 
ah huh another rice thing, how many others have them I wonder?
ah huh another rice thing, how many others have them I wonder?
Hi, My Name is Tessee
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#700,
"I definitely read about her," Warren sat back, stretching out his long legs. "Did I personally have any dealings with her...no. Were you the person who ferreted her out? That was quite a complex terror scheme she had going, so tell me, how did you discover it was her?"
Mark leaned back in his office chair and started his tale with the picture of Carina chained by the neck. "I started with the developing mark on the picture. Now a days, with digital cameras and home computer printing I was very surprised to see her slip up that way." Mark rubbed his chin and then his sore shoulder. "She surely should have known she could be traced by the developer's number.
"Her name had surfaced once or twice, but none of the Hanson's knew her; only her son John who had been their Minister for a period of time. Keep in mind," Mark quietly said, "all the people that have attacked us have been intertwined if you research back far enough. So we figure there is a connection we haven't discovered as of yet."
"Let me see what's available," Warren picked up Mark's phone and thumbed in a few numbers. Giving himself access to a secure site, he put Laura George into a computer and then sat back. "I didn't want to use my phone, but I will need to destroy your phone when I'm done. I'll gladly buy you another," Warren massaged the back of the hand that hadn't been operated on.
"This revelation about Wilson is the one thing that bothers me. That he would fix it so I would be responsible for killing my own son is just depraved. Like you," he indicated Mark, "there has been a wall built by my colleagues, who had to have been aware of what was going on."
There was a short ring on Mark's phone, and when he went to reach for it, Warren beat him too it. What ever Warren was reading, made him look very concerned.
"OK," Warren finally said, "you were so very right about entanglements. Laura George was Borg's sister, one time engaged to Wilson."
"I definitely read about her," Warren sat back, stretching out his long legs. "Did I personally have any dealings with her...no. Were you the person who ferreted her out? That was quite a complex terror scheme she had going, so tell me, how did you discover it was her?"
Mark leaned back in his office chair and started his tale with the picture of Carina chained by the neck. "I started with the developing mark on the picture. Now a days, with digital cameras and home computer printing I was very surprised to see her slip up that way." Mark rubbed his chin and then his sore shoulder. "She surely should have known she could be traced by the developer's number.
"Her name had surfaced once or twice, but none of the Hanson's knew her; only her son John who had been their Minister for a period of time. Keep in mind," Mark quietly said, "all the people that have attacked us have been intertwined if you research back far enough. So we figure there is a connection we haven't discovered as of yet."
"Let me see what's available," Warren picked up Mark's phone and thumbed in a few numbers. Giving himself access to a secure site, he put Laura George into a computer and then sat back. "I didn't want to use my phone, but I will need to destroy your phone when I'm done. I'll gladly buy you another," Warren massaged the back of the hand that hadn't been operated on.
"This revelation about Wilson is the one thing that bothers me. That he would fix it so I would be responsible for killing my own son is just depraved. Like you," he indicated Mark, "there has been a wall built by my colleagues, who had to have been aware of what was going on."
There was a short ring on Mark's phone, and when he went to reach for it, Warren beat him too it. What ever Warren was reading, made him look very concerned.
"OK," Warren finally said, "you were so very right about entanglements. Laura George was Borg's sister, one time engaged to Wilson."
RememberGoliad
Veteran Member
Of COURSE she was..... And yet another branch of the tree grows back into itself 
Thanks, Pac!
Thanks, Pac!
Sammy55
Veteran Member
Pac, how do you EVER keep straight all of these twists and turns, and who-is-related-to-whom, and what happened when, and and and........?
I don't think I could even write out a diagram and/or timeline showing all all the people, all the events, all the time......
And you manage to keep it straight and keep weaving this story even tighter and tighter and tighter!!
You are to be heartily commended and THANKED for this wonderful story and for the lessons it passes on to everyone!
I don't think I could even write out a diagram and/or timeline showing all all the people, all the events, all the time......
And you manage to keep it straight and keep weaving this story even tighter and tighter and tighter!!
You are to be heartily commended and THANKED for this wonderful story and for the lessons it passes on to everyone!
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
hee, hee
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Yes a very tangled web, 
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#700b
"I don't remember Borg's family; I only saw them once the day we shipped out from Bremerton. It seems to me that there was a Mother and Father, a sister and maybe two brothers. The Mother was a tall blonde woman of pretty good sized proportions, taller than Borg's Father by at least a head. Did you know they were very wealthy and tried many tricks to keep Borg out of the war?"
Mark shook his head no, "Never met any of them, they were never talked about at all. But then I was gone so much, it wasn't surprising to me. I remember as a teen asking if we had any relatives, and Borg telling me that they were gone. I guess I took that to mean gone as in dead, but obviously not. Is there any way to trace the family, I mean they could be close and we wouldn't know it."
"Let me try," Warren used the phone again. "So did you ever figure out how many people Laura killed?'
"Some where close to 50, if you count the Asian goons that have attempted to gun us down. We wound up killing a lot of people attacking us SSS; and I'm not repeating a word about that."
"Wise, wise," Warren agreed.
"We have identified several main avenues of attackers. First was Pete, the Asians were after him for jewels he had heisted, and perhaps they knew about the Rhodium. Either that or they were just having fun," Mark dryly offered. "The next was domestic hit men after the Rhodium, set on us presumably by former friends of Pete, members of the 'Nam squad. Now that I know about the prince, I can't discount maybe he had a finger or two in the situation." Marl was tight lipped and frustrated.
"Then you add the Eastern European blood feud between Clora's past family and Happy's . I've saved the best for last. You and I both know these transmitters could have only come from one agency, your's."
Warren slowly nodded his head up and down. For once he didn't know what to say. Mark had to be one hundred percent correct, and Clora's family had carried the chips since they were very young. Up to thirty plus years, but for what reason. "The Rhodium figures prominently in all this, but I smell the scent of another part to the story. But I have no clues to work with." Warren complained.
"Welcome to the club," Mark wasn't smiling. "Sometimes thinking about this makes my head want to explode. Lets take a detour for a moment. Did you know or were you ever notified about a 'cold fusion blueprint' that was smuggled into the US? Clora and her family found it in a trunk sent here with her Aunt's belongings."
"Quite a while ago, maybe thirty years?" Warren replied cautiously, unsure of what was coming next.
"Clora says she was sure some of the writing was German and some was Asian. They were just kids when they explored the trunk, but turned the material over to Carsen of the FBI. Since then," Mark rubbed the bridge of his nose, "I suspect that was a set of plans lifted from the Nazis concerning nuclear fission. The thing is, I don't think the FBI ever made a peep about having those plans, they have simply vanished."
"Some of what I know about that, is classified." Warren tilted his head back. "The plans were from the German war effort, and the next time we knew about them they were in North Korea. Tell me what you know about Clora's aunt, how did she come into possession of the plans?"
"Totally unknown, the aunt was hurt horse riding or jumping in France and had her belongings shipped back to America. Clora remembers something about the trunk being full of horse trophies and heavier than the Queen Mary. That's how they got curious and ripped it open. It was lead lined with the plans sandwiched between the two layers."
"Humm, sounds preposterous, unbelievable." Warren was once again astounded at the story. He picked up the phone as it pinged.
"Tell me," he said slowly, "do you know anybody by the name of Samuels? That was Borg's mother's maiden name."
"I don't remember Borg's family; I only saw them once the day we shipped out from Bremerton. It seems to me that there was a Mother and Father, a sister and maybe two brothers. The Mother was a tall blonde woman of pretty good sized proportions, taller than Borg's Father by at least a head. Did you know they were very wealthy and tried many tricks to keep Borg out of the war?"
Mark shook his head no, "Never met any of them, they were never talked about at all. But then I was gone so much, it wasn't surprising to me. I remember as a teen asking if we had any relatives, and Borg telling me that they were gone. I guess I took that to mean gone as in dead, but obviously not. Is there any way to trace the family, I mean they could be close and we wouldn't know it."
"Let me try," Warren used the phone again. "So did you ever figure out how many people Laura killed?'
"Some where close to 50, if you count the Asian goons that have attempted to gun us down. We wound up killing a lot of people attacking us SSS; and I'm not repeating a word about that."
"Wise, wise," Warren agreed.
"We have identified several main avenues of attackers. First was Pete, the Asians were after him for jewels he had heisted, and perhaps they knew about the Rhodium. Either that or they were just having fun," Mark dryly offered. "The next was domestic hit men after the Rhodium, set on us presumably by former friends of Pete, members of the 'Nam squad. Now that I know about the prince, I can't discount maybe he had a finger or two in the situation." Marl was tight lipped and frustrated.
"Then you add the Eastern European blood feud between Clora's past family and Happy's . I've saved the best for last. You and I both know these transmitters could have only come from one agency, your's."
Warren slowly nodded his head up and down. For once he didn't know what to say. Mark had to be one hundred percent correct, and Clora's family had carried the chips since they were very young. Up to thirty plus years, but for what reason. "The Rhodium figures prominently in all this, but I smell the scent of another part to the story. But I have no clues to work with." Warren complained.
"Welcome to the club," Mark wasn't smiling. "Sometimes thinking about this makes my head want to explode. Lets take a detour for a moment. Did you know or were you ever notified about a 'cold fusion blueprint' that was smuggled into the US? Clora and her family found it in a trunk sent here with her Aunt's belongings."
"Quite a while ago, maybe thirty years?" Warren replied cautiously, unsure of what was coming next.
"Clora says she was sure some of the writing was German and some was Asian. They were just kids when they explored the trunk, but turned the material over to Carsen of the FBI. Since then," Mark rubbed the bridge of his nose, "I suspect that was a set of plans lifted from the Nazis concerning nuclear fission. The thing is, I don't think the FBI ever made a peep about having those plans, they have simply vanished."
"Some of what I know about that, is classified." Warren tilted his head back. "The plans were from the German war effort, and the next time we knew about them they were in North Korea. Tell me what you know about Clora's aunt, how did she come into possession of the plans?"
"Totally unknown, the aunt was hurt horse riding or jumping in France and had her belongings shipped back to America. Clora remembers something about the trunk being full of horse trophies and heavier than the Queen Mary. That's how they got curious and ripped it open. It was lead lined with the plans sandwiched between the two layers."
"Humm, sounds preposterous, unbelievable." Warren was once again astounded at the story. He picked up the phone as it pinged.
"Tell me," he said slowly, "do you know anybody by the name of Samuels? That was Borg's mother's maiden name."
stjwelding
Veteran Member
WOW!!Pac, how do you come up with all of this and HOW do you keep it all straight in your mind in order to tie it all together this much later in the story, you are a truly gifted story teller and author. Thank You
Wayne
Wayne
Texican
Live Free & Die Free.... God Freedom Country....
Have you noticed how great Pac is about weaving the saga????
Just not enough info to solve the puzzle....
But just enough to keep you hooked for the next chapter....
All great writers have this talent.... Including Pac....
Wwweeeellllll, nnnnoooowwww where does Pace lead us from here????
Texican.....
Just not enough info to solve the puzzle....
But just enough to keep you hooked for the next chapter....
All great writers have this talent.... Including Pac....
Wwweeeellllll, nnnnoooowwww where does Pace lead us from here????
Texican.....
steamroller
Contributing Member
You are doing a fantastic job of keeping us all entertained and I want to thank you for all the time you spend on this great story.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#700c
"Now that is so not funny." Mark was irritated, "we have a long history of bad blood with a family of Samuels, that also ties into Clora's side of this story. Tell me you're joking," he ordered Warren.
"Afraid not, so tell me about the Samuel's saga?" Warren was very smooth and polished as he said little but invited Mark to talk.
Mark had no intention of telling everything he knew about the Samuels family, but enough to give Warren the basic outline. "It starts with a family named Kemp that homesteaded land up North of Portland." Mark detailed the twisted and involved story of Gertie, her sisters and their relationship to the Hanson kids.
"They were fairly close neighbors, so that's how Pete did his tom catting around," Warren looked thoughtful, "Interesting."
"It's getting late and how do you feel?" Mark probed, studying his father and the man's reactions.
"Very tired, like I have run a long race. If you don't mind, going to bed does sound like a good thing to do." On cue, Warren yawned.
Mark did a walk around, checking the doors and windows, put the dogs on guard and went to bed.
There was a sunrise the next morning among dark grey and red tinged clouds. Stabbing fingers of light announced sleepy people had better get up and get going. The cow needed to be milked, the bus was coming and there was breakfast, the laundry needed done and the garden planted.
Everyone was creaking around in slow motion, except for the children. Clora had never been so happy to see her kids get on the bus.
"I believe if I hear one more 'splendid' out of Tessee concerning Leffee, I'm going to scream." Clora said sourly. "My goodness, Leffee must be a saint and we didn't realize it."
"Iss truths," Olga seldom spoke, but she did have an opinion about Leffee. "Silva, shes says same ting, always Leffee, Leffee, Leffee."
"Leffee is coming for an overnight visit this coming Friday night, so you will get to meet her," Clora mentioned, "she really is a very nice little girl."
Olga nodded, but didn't look totally convinced. Stephan came in from milking, walking slowly and acting like every bone in his body ached. Karl barely made it to the table before he had to sit down. "Our two fighting Meesters," Olga snickered, "musts be feeling the ages." Karl nodded, he was feeling old.
Mark and Warren were sitting at the end of the table, groggy from their late night confab and looking into the depths of their coffee cups.
"Clora, could we talk to you later? We've made some interesting discoveries last night that you should be in on," Mark wanted to catch Clora before she got her morning work started.
"Sure. The only thing I've got going tomorrow is a visit to the doctor's, remember you promised to go?"
"Sounds like my cue to offer taxi service," Warren smiled with interest. "I don't think you are up to driving right yet," he indicated Mark's arm still in the sling.
"Thank you, we accept," Mark looked at Clora for her agreement. "Yes, if I can go shopping, there are things I need to get," Clora was looking at them both.
"I dunno," Mark teased, "going shopping with a pregnant lady always costs me money."
"Times three," Clora shot right back.
The day got started despite the aches and pains. Karl and Stephan went to teach Marigold to lead, harnessing Bob the steady giant to tow the reluctant little Jersey. They walked far out into the pasture to the duck pond, circled around it three times each way and started back at a slow leisurely pace. Karl took ahold of Marigold's halter and pulled her to him, stopping to pet and encourage the obstinate little miss. He untied her from Bob and let her graze a bit, pulled her to come and started walking back. Marigold probably thought about skidding her feet, but Karl had sweet feed in his pocket and she liked the treat.
Next came the brushing and the handling of her bag. Marigold had definite opinions about being touched, but that sweet feed kept her in line. "Ve does this tomorrows," Karl praised Stephan and Marigold. muches good times."
"Now that is so not funny." Mark was irritated, "we have a long history of bad blood with a family of Samuels, that also ties into Clora's side of this story. Tell me you're joking," he ordered Warren.
"Afraid not, so tell me about the Samuel's saga?" Warren was very smooth and polished as he said little but invited Mark to talk.
Mark had no intention of telling everything he knew about the Samuels family, but enough to give Warren the basic outline. "It starts with a family named Kemp that homesteaded land up North of Portland." Mark detailed the twisted and involved story of Gertie, her sisters and their relationship to the Hanson kids.
"They were fairly close neighbors, so that's how Pete did his tom catting around," Warren looked thoughtful, "Interesting."
"It's getting late and how do you feel?" Mark probed, studying his father and the man's reactions.
"Very tired, like I have run a long race. If you don't mind, going to bed does sound like a good thing to do." On cue, Warren yawned.
Mark did a walk around, checking the doors and windows, put the dogs on guard and went to bed.
There was a sunrise the next morning among dark grey and red tinged clouds. Stabbing fingers of light announced sleepy people had better get up and get going. The cow needed to be milked, the bus was coming and there was breakfast, the laundry needed done and the garden planted.
Everyone was creaking around in slow motion, except for the children. Clora had never been so happy to see her kids get on the bus.
"I believe if I hear one more 'splendid' out of Tessee concerning Leffee, I'm going to scream." Clora said sourly. "My goodness, Leffee must be a saint and we didn't realize it."
"Iss truths," Olga seldom spoke, but she did have an opinion about Leffee. "Silva, shes says same ting, always Leffee, Leffee, Leffee."
"Leffee is coming for an overnight visit this coming Friday night, so you will get to meet her," Clora mentioned, "she really is a very nice little girl."
Olga nodded, but didn't look totally convinced. Stephan came in from milking, walking slowly and acting like every bone in his body ached. Karl barely made it to the table before he had to sit down. "Our two fighting Meesters," Olga snickered, "musts be feeling the ages." Karl nodded, he was feeling old.
Mark and Warren were sitting at the end of the table, groggy from their late night confab and looking into the depths of their coffee cups.
"Clora, could we talk to you later? We've made some interesting discoveries last night that you should be in on," Mark wanted to catch Clora before she got her morning work started.
"Sure. The only thing I've got going tomorrow is a visit to the doctor's, remember you promised to go?"
"Sounds like my cue to offer taxi service," Warren smiled with interest. "I don't think you are up to driving right yet," he indicated Mark's arm still in the sling.
"Thank you, we accept," Mark looked at Clora for her agreement. "Yes, if I can go shopping, there are things I need to get," Clora was looking at them both.
"I dunno," Mark teased, "going shopping with a pregnant lady always costs me money."
"Times three," Clora shot right back.
The day got started despite the aches and pains. Karl and Stephan went to teach Marigold to lead, harnessing Bob the steady giant to tow the reluctant little Jersey. They walked far out into the pasture to the duck pond, circled around it three times each way and started back at a slow leisurely pace. Karl took ahold of Marigold's halter and pulled her to him, stopping to pet and encourage the obstinate little miss. He untied her from Bob and let her graze a bit, pulled her to come and started walking back. Marigold probably thought about skidding her feet, but Karl had sweet feed in his pocket and she liked the treat.
Next came the brushing and the handling of her bag. Marigold had definite opinions about being touched, but that sweet feed kept her in line. "Ve does this tomorrows," Karl praised Stephan and Marigold. muches good times."
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Thanks Pac for the new chapter.
Wayne
Wayne
Dosadi
Brown Coat
Thank you for all the MOAR I got today.
Mysteries deepen.
Mark needs a new phone, Warren has his boys fencing him in too.
Mega-office politics. It's amazing how much simpler things can be if everyone would just use the truth.
I know never happen till Jesus comes home.
Still I can observe it.
Dosadi (Still hoping for even moar to satisfy his addiction to this story.)
Mysteries deepen.
Mark needs a new phone, Warren has his boys fencing him in too.
Mega-office politics. It's amazing how much simpler things can be if everyone would just use the truth.
I know never happen till Jesus comes home.
Still I can observe it.
Dosadi (Still hoping for even moar to satisfy his addiction to this story.)
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#700d
Clora was interested but not surprised to hear Borg's sister was probably part of the Kemp-Samuels connection. "Do you have any information as to how she might be related to Gunnar?"
Warren checked, "no Gunnar listed."
"How about a Colin?"
"She was a Aunt to Colin." Warren reported.
"I think there was a mix up between Colin and Gunnar. Either they were identical twins, or Gunnar left Germany and turned into Colin when he got here. Still, there was that dude that tried to attack Wayne. Wayne said that was Gunnar from the papers in his pockets, but he was not......" and Clora looked to Mark for advise. She didn't want to implicate Wayne, so she stopped talking.
Warren had his share of nameless bodies hidden in spots around the world, so he just nodded and acted like Clora hadn't gone down that road.
"Let me put it this way, Wayne did what he had to do to survive. In times of peace it's frowned upon. In the times we have now, it can be necessary, but not spoken about." Warren closed that open door gently.
"Did we ever figure out if the man that married Gertie; his son, did or does he have a name?" Clora asked as she was thinking hard about what she remembered.
"Two boys," Warren looked at the screen in Mark's phone. "A Colin and a Gunnar. Now that really strange to have them named the same as their father and uncle."
"Not strange if you're trying to hide a person wanted in Germany for atrocities;" Clora said slowly as an idea formed in her mind. "I bet if you look at those two. they have boys named Colin and Gunnar. Besides, I distinctly remember Gertie saying the husband had a son and a daughter, not two boys. Anytime I have seen Gunnar, he looks very German, tall, full bodied with a very cruel look to his face."
"So then, I wonder what might have become of the daughter, that she was replaced with another boy?" and suddenly Mark recalled piles of bones in a cave. "oh crap, I might have an answer to that. The Cave," Mark said haltingly. "There were probably five or six piles of bones in there."
"What cave?" Warren was interested.
"Where I found the suitcase of Rhodium, a hidden cave close enough to the Kemp Samuels land that it could have been used by them."
"Did you find any papers or documentation for any of that?" Warren was casual; but instantly Mark was alerted to the fact, that was his father's objective.
"I think you had better tell us why you would say that?" Mark went from nice to harsh in one second. Fury at feeling used by another so called nice person.
"There are missing papers that document where a lot of the Nazi treasures were buried when they were stolen from their owners. I am telling you this but you never heard it from me. There are also papers that detail some of the missing pieces of the cold fusion plant that came in your Aunt's trunk. That's how I became involved. There should have been many more papers than what you turned over to the FBI." Warren sat looking at his son and daughter in law. Mark's face was not encouraging, to say the least.
"No," Clora said with certainty. "There were only the two fairly large pieces that butted together. There wasn't anything thing else between the two sheets of metal."
"Then it had to have been waylaid from there to here," Warren muttered to himself.
"Aunt Inga did say Gunnar was supposed to have sent the trunk six months before it arrived in Evergreen, but it got there and everything seemed OK. I mean the things inside were neatly packed. We tore the trophies apart when we were older, looking to see if they were made of Rhodium, but they weren't."
Mark made a little movement to catch Clora's eye, and then shook his head no; he didn't want her saying anything else. Clora nodded back.
"They might have sent the trunk to someplace first, to be dismantled and the papers removed." Warren was thinking aloud. "But then there would have been no reason to leave the fusion plans where they were; unless there were two bottoms to the trunk. They might have opened one and missed the other. I wonder," he mumbled. "I just happened to think of that, Huh."
"Is that why the children were chipped?" Mark was furious, demanding answers in a strident tone.
"I don't know," Warren drug the last syllable out as he went over the facts in his mind. "This is very puzzling. You don't happen to remember the name of the company that delivered the trunk, do you? he questioned Clora.
"No, it was delivered when we weren't home."
"Humm." Warren got up to pace the floor, acting like an absent minded professor hot on the trail of a vaporous thought. "It's frustrating to be so close and not have all the facts. Oh well," he said philosophically, "it's too bad it won't come together. We were hoping to return the treasures to their rightful owners." He got as far as the door arch into the kitchen. "I'm going for coffee, anyone else care for some?"
"Yes," Clora said, but she was kindly ignored.
Mark got Clora up and they walked to the bedroom. "We need to be careful, I knew this was too good to be true," Mark was incensed beyond belief.
"Mark, would you believe me if I said that's not the way it is," Clora said quietly. "You're on the wrong track."
Clora was interested but not surprised to hear Borg's sister was probably part of the Kemp-Samuels connection. "Do you have any information as to how she might be related to Gunnar?"
Warren checked, "no Gunnar listed."
"How about a Colin?"
"She was a Aunt to Colin." Warren reported.
"I think there was a mix up between Colin and Gunnar. Either they were identical twins, or Gunnar left Germany and turned into Colin when he got here. Still, there was that dude that tried to attack Wayne. Wayne said that was Gunnar from the papers in his pockets, but he was not......" and Clora looked to Mark for advise. She didn't want to implicate Wayne, so she stopped talking.
Warren had his share of nameless bodies hidden in spots around the world, so he just nodded and acted like Clora hadn't gone down that road.
"Let me put it this way, Wayne did what he had to do to survive. In times of peace it's frowned upon. In the times we have now, it can be necessary, but not spoken about." Warren closed that open door gently.
"Did we ever figure out if the man that married Gertie; his son, did or does he have a name?" Clora asked as she was thinking hard about what she remembered.
"Two boys," Warren looked at the screen in Mark's phone. "A Colin and a Gunnar. Now that really strange to have them named the same as their father and uncle."
"Not strange if you're trying to hide a person wanted in Germany for atrocities;" Clora said slowly as an idea formed in her mind. "I bet if you look at those two. they have boys named Colin and Gunnar. Besides, I distinctly remember Gertie saying the husband had a son and a daughter, not two boys. Anytime I have seen Gunnar, he looks very German, tall, full bodied with a very cruel look to his face."
"So then, I wonder what might have become of the daughter, that she was replaced with another boy?" and suddenly Mark recalled piles of bones in a cave. "oh crap, I might have an answer to that. The Cave," Mark said haltingly. "There were probably five or six piles of bones in there."
"What cave?" Warren was interested.
"Where I found the suitcase of Rhodium, a hidden cave close enough to the Kemp Samuels land that it could have been used by them."
"Did you find any papers or documentation for any of that?" Warren was casual; but instantly Mark was alerted to the fact, that was his father's objective.
"I think you had better tell us why you would say that?" Mark went from nice to harsh in one second. Fury at feeling used by another so called nice person.
"There are missing papers that document where a lot of the Nazi treasures were buried when they were stolen from their owners. I am telling you this but you never heard it from me. There are also papers that detail some of the missing pieces of the cold fusion plant that came in your Aunt's trunk. That's how I became involved. There should have been many more papers than what you turned over to the FBI." Warren sat looking at his son and daughter in law. Mark's face was not encouraging, to say the least.
"No," Clora said with certainty. "There were only the two fairly large pieces that butted together. There wasn't anything thing else between the two sheets of metal."
"Then it had to have been waylaid from there to here," Warren muttered to himself.
"Aunt Inga did say Gunnar was supposed to have sent the trunk six months before it arrived in Evergreen, but it got there and everything seemed OK. I mean the things inside were neatly packed. We tore the trophies apart when we were older, looking to see if they were made of Rhodium, but they weren't."
Mark made a little movement to catch Clora's eye, and then shook his head no; he didn't want her saying anything else. Clora nodded back.
"They might have sent the trunk to someplace first, to be dismantled and the papers removed." Warren was thinking aloud. "But then there would have been no reason to leave the fusion plans where they were; unless there were two bottoms to the trunk. They might have opened one and missed the other. I wonder," he mumbled. "I just happened to think of that, Huh."
"Is that why the children were chipped?" Mark was furious, demanding answers in a strident tone.
"I don't know," Warren drug the last syllable out as he went over the facts in his mind. "This is very puzzling. You don't happen to remember the name of the company that delivered the trunk, do you? he questioned Clora.
"No, it was delivered when we weren't home."
"Humm." Warren got up to pace the floor, acting like an absent minded professor hot on the trail of a vaporous thought. "It's frustrating to be so close and not have all the facts. Oh well," he said philosophically, "it's too bad it won't come together. We were hoping to return the treasures to their rightful owners." He got as far as the door arch into the kitchen. "I'm going for coffee, anyone else care for some?"
"Yes," Clora said, but she was kindly ignored.
Mark got Clora up and they walked to the bedroom. "We need to be careful, I knew this was too good to be true," Mark was incensed beyond belief.
"Mark, would you believe me if I said that's not the way it is," Clora said quietly. "You're on the wrong track."
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
I love that Clora is able to reason with Mark!
Thank you for more of your intriguing story.
Thank you for more of your intriguing story.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Good I am glad his dad is a good guy.
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Pac Thanks for the chapters,
Wayne
Wayne
Nature_Lover
Wait! What?
Thank you Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#701
Back in the living room, Mark pointed to the chair when Warren came in with his coffee and growled, "sit down."
Warren raised his eyebrow at the abrupt rudeness, but sat down to face his angry son with calm eyes. He didn't have to wait long to discover the root of the problem.
"Why are you so interested in the fusion plans and paperwork concerning the trunk contents," Mark shoved the question at Warren briskly, angry and not afraid to show it.
"I had hoped to retire, and that is the last major case I've not been able to solve. I had a flare of hope you might be able to solve my loose ends, but evidently that won't happen." Warren was watching his son out of the corner of his eyes. Something had stuck a burr under that chaps saddle blanket, Mark going from nice to nasty in two seconds.
Mark was silent for several minutes, thinking something out in his mind. Suddenly he relaxed, and apologized. "I'm sorry for my reaction. The way your interest in the paper work struck me; it seemed if that was your main goal. We have been befriended many times for the information and people we know, and then discarded. I'm a little touchy," he explained.
"And I apologize also. I have been so frustrated in finding what the Nazi hunters call the Master List, that I let my good sense fly out the window. We are losing the rightful owners of these treasures and antiquities to age, at a alarming rate. The state is willing to accept the many millions worth of art, jewelry, sculptures and other valuables, but the people will lose their rightful items."
The time wasn't right for Mark to do a full out confession about the packet of papers in the cave. Something was holding him back, and he always listened to that small inner voice. Always.
Going on to less threatening topics, they planned to deliver the old Rover to Ben in the afternoon, with Stephan driving the older machine. Tuesday was a trip into town for Clora's appointment and a resupply shopping trip.
As they ate lunch, Mark mentioned to Helga they would hit a grocery store Tuesday, did she need anything.
"Yesses, buts vhy nots go to Meester Vaynes and Ben's store this afternoons. You vill be rights there."
"We will, that's a splendid idea," he teased for Clora's benefit and got a 'boo' from his wife.
Helga had her list ready. Coffee was at the top and underlined heavily, followed by the usual items.
Mark sighed. the Eastern European part of their household seemed to function solely with coffee as fuel, and he hoped the harvest in the Southern hemisphere had been a good one. They sure needed it.
When they got to Newburg, the grocery was busy; and Ben was happy to get his vehicle. Mark took the list and pushed a buggy acquiring what Helga needed. Warren lounged around in the front of the store, buying a coffee and chatting with a couple of the 'regulars' as he waited.
Jenny had moved the check out counter back toward the center of the store, so there was room for several small tables and chairs near the window. The area was filled with older people as the younger crowd tended to choose the trendy coffee shop that catered to exotic drinks.
It was handy for her to keep coffee made and the older gals often made the rounds with the coffee pot if Jenny was busy checking groceries. It was a low key gathering spot that was frequented heavily. Plus, the people almost always shopped for a couple of items to take home. A lot of them walked there for exercise, and several items in a sack wasn't too much to carry home. It was working exactly as Jenny had planned.
Wayne was out back supervising the addition to the loading dock that was going to become the feed depot. Now that he and Jenny owned the vacant lot, they made the dock for the grocery truck easier to back into, earning them the gratitude of the driver's that were delivering more frequently due to the increased business.
A new sign across the front of the newly cleaned and painted building proclaimed HANSON'S GROCERY, in bright red letters. Just the way they wanted it.
Ma had boycotted them for the longest time, and then when her friends wouldn't stay away, she grudgingly wandered in and proceeded to set up court. Of course all the improvements were her ideas, and she carried on for quite a while, until she caught a couple of her friends winking at each other and then she tapered off and became very personable.
The company enlarging the dock and building the feed and hay area, also had a crew working on the outside entrance to Ben's basement apartment. Mark had to have a tour, and made all the propped noises of appreciation. The house was good and solid, the land a benefit to the grocery, and the grocery flourishing.
And Ben was miserable. "In all our years," he explained to Mark, "it was always Wayne that was the flighty one. Up and gone at the slightest whim, running the hills, sleeping out, eating what he could trap or shoot, going where he pleased. Now I find myself yearning to do those things. This is wonderful," he waved his hand over the store and it's improvements, "but not what I want."
"Then keep searching," Mark advised. "Just because you want to do different, doesn't mean you can't partner in the store. It means you look for different solutions."
"Your annoying," Ben said with a smile, "right and annoying. No wonder Clora likes you, she's annoying also."
Mark laughed, enjoying his interaction with Ben for the first time since he had met the man. Ben, finding his adult interest in life had become a person worthy of spending time with.
"I'm having a new Doctor look at my arm tomorrow. If I don't get out of the cast, I'll never have any use of this arm." Ben looked at the grungy, messed cast, "I'm sick and tired of being infirm."
"You and me both," Mark growled back, "I'm healing, but not as fast as I want too."
"Age," Ben said wisely, "you know we're getting to be middle aged men, and before you say it; I know my restlessness is due to my middle age crisis. What's your excuse?"
"Triplets," Mark said succinctly.
That really made Ben laugh. "Nobody's fault but your own," he wisecracked.
Mark just nodded and gave a huge sigh.
Stephan hauled several sacks of groceries out to the new Rover and stood by the back door waiting. The warm sunshine felt good on his mauled and bruised muscles. He deeply regretted the confrontation that had happened at church. They had defiled their house of worship with angry thought, words and deeds. Karl seemed to be of a different mindset, Stephan imagined, the former resistance fighter welcoming the opportunity to take out the enemy on any turf.
Stephan and Olga had talked some about having church with the boss and his wife, Olga adamant about nor exposing Silva to any more violence. Their daughter was doing well at her new school, blossoming in the secure atmosphere and challenging knowledge.
Stephan sighed hard. They had a terrible problem to overcome and he thought when the boss found out he may fire them. Olga was pregnant.
Back in the living room, Mark pointed to the chair when Warren came in with his coffee and growled, "sit down."
Warren raised his eyebrow at the abrupt rudeness, but sat down to face his angry son with calm eyes. He didn't have to wait long to discover the root of the problem.
"Why are you so interested in the fusion plans and paperwork concerning the trunk contents," Mark shoved the question at Warren briskly, angry and not afraid to show it.
"I had hoped to retire, and that is the last major case I've not been able to solve. I had a flare of hope you might be able to solve my loose ends, but evidently that won't happen." Warren was watching his son out of the corner of his eyes. Something had stuck a burr under that chaps saddle blanket, Mark going from nice to nasty in two seconds.
Mark was silent for several minutes, thinking something out in his mind. Suddenly he relaxed, and apologized. "I'm sorry for my reaction. The way your interest in the paper work struck me; it seemed if that was your main goal. We have been befriended many times for the information and people we know, and then discarded. I'm a little touchy," he explained.
"And I apologize also. I have been so frustrated in finding what the Nazi hunters call the Master List, that I let my good sense fly out the window. We are losing the rightful owners of these treasures and antiquities to age, at a alarming rate. The state is willing to accept the many millions worth of art, jewelry, sculptures and other valuables, but the people will lose their rightful items."
The time wasn't right for Mark to do a full out confession about the packet of papers in the cave. Something was holding him back, and he always listened to that small inner voice. Always.
Going on to less threatening topics, they planned to deliver the old Rover to Ben in the afternoon, with Stephan driving the older machine. Tuesday was a trip into town for Clora's appointment and a resupply shopping trip.
As they ate lunch, Mark mentioned to Helga they would hit a grocery store Tuesday, did she need anything.
"Yesses, buts vhy nots go to Meester Vaynes and Ben's store this afternoons. You vill be rights there."
"We will, that's a splendid idea," he teased for Clora's benefit and got a 'boo' from his wife.
Helga had her list ready. Coffee was at the top and underlined heavily, followed by the usual items.
Mark sighed. the Eastern European part of their household seemed to function solely with coffee as fuel, and he hoped the harvest in the Southern hemisphere had been a good one. They sure needed it.
When they got to Newburg, the grocery was busy; and Ben was happy to get his vehicle. Mark took the list and pushed a buggy acquiring what Helga needed. Warren lounged around in the front of the store, buying a coffee and chatting with a couple of the 'regulars' as he waited.
Jenny had moved the check out counter back toward the center of the store, so there was room for several small tables and chairs near the window. The area was filled with older people as the younger crowd tended to choose the trendy coffee shop that catered to exotic drinks.
It was handy for her to keep coffee made and the older gals often made the rounds with the coffee pot if Jenny was busy checking groceries. It was a low key gathering spot that was frequented heavily. Plus, the people almost always shopped for a couple of items to take home. A lot of them walked there for exercise, and several items in a sack wasn't too much to carry home. It was working exactly as Jenny had planned.
Wayne was out back supervising the addition to the loading dock that was going to become the feed depot. Now that he and Jenny owned the vacant lot, they made the dock for the grocery truck easier to back into, earning them the gratitude of the driver's that were delivering more frequently due to the increased business.
A new sign across the front of the newly cleaned and painted building proclaimed HANSON'S GROCERY, in bright red letters. Just the way they wanted it.
Ma had boycotted them for the longest time, and then when her friends wouldn't stay away, she grudgingly wandered in and proceeded to set up court. Of course all the improvements were her ideas, and she carried on for quite a while, until she caught a couple of her friends winking at each other and then she tapered off and became very personable.
The company enlarging the dock and building the feed and hay area, also had a crew working on the outside entrance to Ben's basement apartment. Mark had to have a tour, and made all the propped noises of appreciation. The house was good and solid, the land a benefit to the grocery, and the grocery flourishing.
And Ben was miserable. "In all our years," he explained to Mark, "it was always Wayne that was the flighty one. Up and gone at the slightest whim, running the hills, sleeping out, eating what he could trap or shoot, going where he pleased. Now I find myself yearning to do those things. This is wonderful," he waved his hand over the store and it's improvements, "but not what I want."
"Then keep searching," Mark advised. "Just because you want to do different, doesn't mean you can't partner in the store. It means you look for different solutions."
"Your annoying," Ben said with a smile, "right and annoying. No wonder Clora likes you, she's annoying also."
Mark laughed, enjoying his interaction with Ben for the first time since he had met the man. Ben, finding his adult interest in life had become a person worthy of spending time with.
"I'm having a new Doctor look at my arm tomorrow. If I don't get out of the cast, I'll never have any use of this arm." Ben looked at the grungy, messed cast, "I'm sick and tired of being infirm."
"You and me both," Mark growled back, "I'm healing, but not as fast as I want too."
"Age," Ben said wisely, "you know we're getting to be middle aged men, and before you say it; I know my restlessness is due to my middle age crisis. What's your excuse?"
"Triplets," Mark said succinctly.
That really made Ben laugh. "Nobody's fault but your own," he wisecracked.
Mark just nodded and gave a huge sigh.
Stephan hauled several sacks of groceries out to the new Rover and stood by the back door waiting. The warm sunshine felt good on his mauled and bruised muscles. He deeply regretted the confrontation that had happened at church. They had defiled their house of worship with angry thought, words and deeds. Karl seemed to be of a different mindset, Stephan imagined, the former resistance fighter welcoming the opportunity to take out the enemy on any turf.
Stephan and Olga had talked some about having church with the boss and his wife, Olga adamant about nor exposing Silva to any more violence. Their daughter was doing well at her new school, blossoming in the secure atmosphere and challenging knowledge.
Stephan sighed hard. They had a terrible problem to overcome and he thought when the boss found out he may fire them. Olga was pregnant.
Last edited:
Nature_Lover
Wait! What?
Yay! Four babies, they will have to set up a larger creche, and it will take some pressure off Clora to have a wet nurse living with them. It takes a village, you know. 
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
another little one, I don't think the boss will be mad, he might think he is going mad instead lol.PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#701b
Stephan fretted all the way home about how to tell Mark about his Olga being pregnant and the consequences that might follow. True, Karl had said the boss was very generous, but they had specifically been hired to work during the boss lady's time, and Olga was acting sick with the stress and worry.
When they rolled into the farm drive way, Stephan was drenched with nervous sweat and as jittery as a four shot espresso drink. Mark pulled him aside as they were unloading Warrens SUV and asked what the matter was.
"I ams soes sorrys to tells you. My Olga she iss pregnant. Ifs you needs to fire us, ve understands," and he slumped against the door, expecting the worst.
"This changes things, let me talk to Clora and see what she thinks." Mark wasn't mad, but his first concern was for Clora. They finished taking the sacks full of coffee cans into the house, Helga beaming with anticipation of the coffee security stash in the pantry.
"Comes in, comes in, the lunch she iss readys," Helga was shooing and waving and clucking, dancing around like a mother hen. Clora was sitting with a cup of tea held up to her mouth, hiding her amusement behind the ceramic mug. The sun was strengthening and sending wisps of smoke up from the warmer ground. The plowed garden a shimmering wave of rising heat.
Chicken soup for lunch with vegetables from the basement thick in the broth, pears from the canning shelf and of course cookies.
"Iss the right times to bes plantings the potatoes," Helga declared as she got up to clear the table, a direct hint to Karl and Stephan they had better get in gear. The two men went to get the potatoes planted and Mark walked Clora to the bedroom for her nap. On the way he mentioned that Olga was pregnant and did she have an idea what she wanted to do.
"Nothing," Clora replied, "things will be fine. I've known for two weeks. That's one secret you can't keep from a pregnant lady, we instinctively know about others." Clora sat down on the bed. "We have been waiting for Stephan to tell you; he was very afraid and nervous about your reaction."
"Why?" Mark puzzled.
"Because they are from a different culture, where the boss or overseer holds command over their worker's lives." Clora reached up to touch Mark's cheek. "Thank you for being so considerate, I think this is God's way of giving us help with the babies." and she smiled.
"Have you thought what you are going to name your three little men?" she asked.
"Me," Mark kinda squeaked, "that's too much responsibility for one papa to have. Give me some good ideas," he begged.
"OK, how about Mathew, Luke and John, as we already have a Mark."
"Not bad. Can we get creative with the middle names?" Mark had an idea he needed to think about for a while.
"Sure," Clora yawned and Mark pulled the quilt over her shoulders., letting her rest. Already, Clora was carrying a huge weight of children, and they had her tired.
The workmen were coming back on Wednesday to start finishing the interior of the new bedroom, nursery and computer room.
Mark had changed the design slightly from what the architect had drawn, he wanted a second doorway into the computer room that opened directly into the living room. That way he could come and go without disturbing the new babies. Warren was dozing on the couch, so Mark jumped into his new computer, transferring what he wanted from the flash drives Clora had done.
It was amazing the quick response he was getting from the new machine, until he got to a portion of the drive that contained the department store files. Tight then and there, Mark transferred a virus into his new laptop. Cursing under his breath, he shut down the machine and inserted the system restore disc, and sat contemplating the future while listening to the faint whirring sound from the computer.
His mind was a million miles away when his phone rang and out of habit he searched his pockets for it. Warren had Mark's phone securely buttoned in his shirt pocket, and he answered the machine. Warren was still, listening for so long, that Mark wondered if the old boy hadn't gone back to sleep.
When he was finished, Warren hit a couple of buttons to sound a 10-4 and re pocketed the phone.
He stared at Mark and then said, "Two more of the disgraced Marshall's Service were gunned down last night, we have to get the prince to stop his revenge on your account. Tomorrow I will get you another phone, you need to call the prince." Mark nodded.
Stephan fretted all the way home about how to tell Mark about his Olga being pregnant and the consequences that might follow. True, Karl had said the boss was very generous, but they had specifically been hired to work during the boss lady's time, and Olga was acting sick with the stress and worry.
When they rolled into the farm drive way, Stephan was drenched with nervous sweat and as jittery as a four shot espresso drink. Mark pulled him aside as they were unloading Warrens SUV and asked what the matter was.
"I ams soes sorrys to tells you. My Olga she iss pregnant. Ifs you needs to fire us, ve understands," and he slumped against the door, expecting the worst.
"This changes things, let me talk to Clora and see what she thinks." Mark wasn't mad, but his first concern was for Clora. They finished taking the sacks full of coffee cans into the house, Helga beaming with anticipation of the coffee security stash in the pantry.
"Comes in, comes in, the lunch she iss readys," Helga was shooing and waving and clucking, dancing around like a mother hen. Clora was sitting with a cup of tea held up to her mouth, hiding her amusement behind the ceramic mug. The sun was strengthening and sending wisps of smoke up from the warmer ground. The plowed garden a shimmering wave of rising heat.
Chicken soup for lunch with vegetables from the basement thick in the broth, pears from the canning shelf and of course cookies.
"Iss the right times to bes plantings the potatoes," Helga declared as she got up to clear the table, a direct hint to Karl and Stephan they had better get in gear. The two men went to get the potatoes planted and Mark walked Clora to the bedroom for her nap. On the way he mentioned that Olga was pregnant and did she have an idea what she wanted to do.
"Nothing," Clora replied, "things will be fine. I've known for two weeks. That's one secret you can't keep from a pregnant lady, we instinctively know about others." Clora sat down on the bed. "We have been waiting for Stephan to tell you; he was very afraid and nervous about your reaction."
"Why?" Mark puzzled.
"Because they are from a different culture, where the boss or overseer holds command over their worker's lives." Clora reached up to touch Mark's cheek. "Thank you for being so considerate, I think this is God's way of giving us help with the babies." and she smiled.
"Have you thought what you are going to name your three little men?" she asked.
"Me," Mark kinda squeaked, "that's too much responsibility for one papa to have. Give me some good ideas," he begged.
"OK, how about Mathew, Luke and John, as we already have a Mark."
"Not bad. Can we get creative with the middle names?" Mark had an idea he needed to think about for a while.
"Sure," Clora yawned and Mark pulled the quilt over her shoulders., letting her rest. Already, Clora was carrying a huge weight of children, and they had her tired.
The workmen were coming back on Wednesday to start finishing the interior of the new bedroom, nursery and computer room.
Mark had changed the design slightly from what the architect had drawn, he wanted a second doorway into the computer room that opened directly into the living room. That way he could come and go without disturbing the new babies. Warren was dozing on the couch, so Mark jumped into his new computer, transferring what he wanted from the flash drives Clora had done.
It was amazing the quick response he was getting from the new machine, until he got to a portion of the drive that contained the department store files. Tight then and there, Mark transferred a virus into his new laptop. Cursing under his breath, he shut down the machine and inserted the system restore disc, and sat contemplating the future while listening to the faint whirring sound from the computer.
His mind was a million miles away when his phone rang and out of habit he searched his pockets for it. Warren had Mark's phone securely buttoned in his shirt pocket, and he answered the machine. Warren was still, listening for so long, that Mark wondered if the old boy hadn't gone back to sleep.
When he was finished, Warren hit a couple of buttons to sound a 10-4 and re pocketed the phone.
He stared at Mark and then said, "Two more of the disgraced Marshall's Service were gunned down last night, we have to get the prince to stop his revenge on your account. Tomorrow I will get you another phone, you need to call the prince." Mark nodded.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac, very nice.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#701c
During the afternoon lull, that precious time after the lunch was cleared away and before the loud and noisy Linderman kids got home from school, the van arrived, compliments of the prince.
It was a beauty, well armored and heavy as all get out. The men looked under the hood at the boosted and blueprinted Chevy motor that purred quieter than a kitten. "I bet this doesn't get more than four miles to the gallon," Mark morosely stared at the well meaning but outrageous gift.
"I'm going to have to pull a fuel trailer behind, or drill for oil; I'm overwhelmed at the cost of this thing." White with bullet proof glass, reinforced undercarriage, run flat tires and inside opening rifle ports, the van looked at first glance like any one of a hundred in daily use. Entirely as it was supposed to blend in.
Mark took delivery and signed the invoice; unsure of what to do next. It was longer than his crew cab, verging on the shape of a stretch limo. Half of it stuck out from the machine shed, so they didn't even have a place to park the monstrosity.
Karl was measuring the taxi/limo/van/bus what ever they were going to call it, to see what it would take to build a garage. Stephan was walking around the van, brushing imaginary dust away from the pristine whiteness, and testing the doors. Instantly a piercing warble split the air, "that's one heck of an alarm system," Warren noted when they finally got the siren stopped.
Mark hit unlock on the remote twice and all the doors opened automatically, allowing total ease and comfort in entering or exiting. "I don't believe it," he gurgled, "you don't even have to open the doors for the kids."
Clora was on the porch watching, trying to get Mark's attention, when she let out one of her famous piercing whistles. Mark paid attention. Clora did the hand waving motion, asking if he had swept the van for bugs.
Mark blew her a kiss as he ran up the stairs and into the house. Seconds later he was busy stripping listening devices off the frame, the top of the rear end housing, from behind the air conditioning vent louvers, under the seats, in the headrests and that's where they discovered the security caches built in the floor under the carpet coverings and the rifle boxes to the side of the interior spare tire assembly.
There were the front two seats, the next row a pedestal seat for Clora, then a solid bench seat complete with three uber safety car seats. And four cushioned bench seats in line for the rest of the family and whom ever else wanted to go along.
"Can you imagine the looks we're gonna get pulling up to the hospital to pick up our children?" Clora whispered to Mark. The van designed for her comfort in tending the babies while on the road.
"I don't even want to think about it," Mark whispered back, "I'm flabbergasted as all get out."
Mark went over the van a second time, finding several devices he missed the first time. He put the bugs in an mint tin and duck taped it to the fire wall, the steady humming of the motor drowning the ability to record conversations. Rubbing his hands together and grinning his famous smile, Mark was proud of himself.
"She's muches beautifuls," Karl approved, "muches goods vay to haul the bebes."
The kids were amazed when they got off the bus, and the driver joked, "What ya gonna do, start hauling kids yourself?"
"Just our own," Mark laughed, and waved the man out the gate. Benny was trying to get his brothers to take their shoes off before they climbed inside the van, he was upset they might get the carpet dirty.
"This is a tool," Mark intervened in the squabble, "we respect our tools, keep them clean and properly prepared for what they do for us, but they are meant to be used. This tool will have a big job, to take us all safely where ever we need to go and back home again. It will get rained on, have the doors dinged in parking lots and run over the occasional rock, and we will be thankful it is sturdy and protects us. Wipe your feet, but you can leave your shoes on." and the words were scarcely out of his mouth until there were cries of 'shotgun', I said it first."
Clora could easily get in without having to fold over her expanding middle, and she sat in the Queen's chair as she dubbed it. "My goodness, what a ....yeah, what do we call this Mark? A van?"
"A good a word as any I can think of," he smiled at Clora's eagerness. She was thinking she would never have to drive now, he could just tell by the smirky grin she was giving him. Clora made him laugh.
After supper, Clora told Olga she might as well go into the doctor with her, she needed to be checked out and get vitamins. Olga wasn't willing, inching her chair closer to Stephan for protection. "No moneys," he said sadly, "noes cans do."
"This is a condition of working for us," Clora said sternly, "Olga needs to keep healthy so she can help us and you. You come also Stephan, meet the Doctor; you will like her."
"Ohs, she iss a lady Doctor?" they both brightened and shared a look. "OK's ve goes."
They had to leave before 8 the next morning to be to the appointment on time and Clora made sure the night before, when she was hearing prayers, the kids knew what was expected of them. "Can we go pickup Leffee?" Tess wanted to know, "she'll think it's a splendid way to ride."
"Not tomorrow," Clora gently replied. "Perhaps we can take Leffee home on Saturday so you all can have a ride. Tess, I want to talk to you about including Silva when you and Leffee play. Even if Leffee says she doesn't want Silva to be with you, I want you to stick up for Silva and insist she be included. You girls will have to find a way for all three of you to be equal, that's the way we do it at our house. Do you have any questions?" Clora smoothed her daughter's curly hair back from her forehead.
"I kinda thought that," Tess admitted, "Silva is like having another sister and I want her to be happy."
"That's a very good way to look at the problem," Clora praised, and Tessee knew she had done the right thing. Tess wiggled down in bed and when Clora bent over to kiss her forehead, Tess got kicked in the arm when Clora leaned against her.
"Another un-splendid brother," Tess grumbled and then smiled as Clora smiled at her. "night Ma."
Clora had to take her time coming downstairs, as she was feeling out of balance.
"No more going upstairs," Mark was there to hold her hand and guide her safely down, "you're almost as big as you were at seven months with Tess, I don't want to find you in a heap at the bottom of the stairs."
"Yes," Clora agreed, "I feel out of center, look how far over this way they are tonight. I thought they were doing jumping jacks a while ago."
Clora had made a denim jumper with a hidden pocket, as she couldn't stand anything tight around her middle, and the front of the dress jumped with the vigorous movement of the hatching babies. "I believe I'll go into bed, I need to rest." and they slowly walked down the hall.
Warren was very unhappy looking when Mark got to the living room. "I'm being required to return, some one has their tighties in a knot because I switched to another phone, and destroyed my issued one. Can Karl drive you in tomorrow, or Stephan?"
"I think so," Mark was confident they could make arrangements. "I would like to have you destroy my phone before you go into work. It has Marshall business on it; not that the agency doesn't know more about that particular business than I do, but I try to play by the rules."
In response, Warren went to the stove, opened it and pitched the phone in. "Problem taken care of," he said with satisfaction, dusting his hands off.
"Thank you, I appreciate that." Mark went to his shirt pocket for his ever present pen and notebook. "I'm sure I have your number, let me check." It was there, and Mark was satisfied. "I'm going to change my number," Mark looked through the scattered papers on his desk for the phone contract he had pulled up the day before. "It's time," he announced.
"Call the home phone, I'm going to change my cell number also, it's a good idea to do that every so often," Warren yawned. "I'll be calling in to check on the Grandkids tomorrow night, if I don't have to be grounded with a slap on my wrist for pitching my work phone. I've been naughty," he chuckled.
Mark went to the kitchen while Warren went for his bedroom. Helga and Karl were sitting having a late night cup of cocoa. "You vants?" Helga questioned, holding up her cup and smiled when Mark said no.
"I'm just making a last check of the doors and the windows, I'm ready to turn in;" Mark set the dogs to guard, and started turning off the lights as he walked down the hall.
The old house creaked and groaned as the temperature cooled and the boards started contracting from the warmth of the day. Mark had a list of things that needed to be done while they were in town, and he ran them over in his mind as he did what exercises he could do with one good hand.
During the afternoon lull, that precious time after the lunch was cleared away and before the loud and noisy Linderman kids got home from school, the van arrived, compliments of the prince.
It was a beauty, well armored and heavy as all get out. The men looked under the hood at the boosted and blueprinted Chevy motor that purred quieter than a kitten. "I bet this doesn't get more than four miles to the gallon," Mark morosely stared at the well meaning but outrageous gift.
"I'm going to have to pull a fuel trailer behind, or drill for oil; I'm overwhelmed at the cost of this thing." White with bullet proof glass, reinforced undercarriage, run flat tires and inside opening rifle ports, the van looked at first glance like any one of a hundred in daily use. Entirely as it was supposed to blend in.
Mark took delivery and signed the invoice; unsure of what to do next. It was longer than his crew cab, verging on the shape of a stretch limo. Half of it stuck out from the machine shed, so they didn't even have a place to park the monstrosity.
Karl was measuring the taxi/limo/van/bus what ever they were going to call it, to see what it would take to build a garage. Stephan was walking around the van, brushing imaginary dust away from the pristine whiteness, and testing the doors. Instantly a piercing warble split the air, "that's one heck of an alarm system," Warren noted when they finally got the siren stopped.
Mark hit unlock on the remote twice and all the doors opened automatically, allowing total ease and comfort in entering or exiting. "I don't believe it," he gurgled, "you don't even have to open the doors for the kids."
Clora was on the porch watching, trying to get Mark's attention, when she let out one of her famous piercing whistles. Mark paid attention. Clora did the hand waving motion, asking if he had swept the van for bugs.
Mark blew her a kiss as he ran up the stairs and into the house. Seconds later he was busy stripping listening devices off the frame, the top of the rear end housing, from behind the air conditioning vent louvers, under the seats, in the headrests and that's where they discovered the security caches built in the floor under the carpet coverings and the rifle boxes to the side of the interior spare tire assembly.
There were the front two seats, the next row a pedestal seat for Clora, then a solid bench seat complete with three uber safety car seats. And four cushioned bench seats in line for the rest of the family and whom ever else wanted to go along.
"Can you imagine the looks we're gonna get pulling up to the hospital to pick up our children?" Clora whispered to Mark. The van designed for her comfort in tending the babies while on the road.
"I don't even want to think about it," Mark whispered back, "I'm flabbergasted as all get out."
Mark went over the van a second time, finding several devices he missed the first time. He put the bugs in an mint tin and duck taped it to the fire wall, the steady humming of the motor drowning the ability to record conversations. Rubbing his hands together and grinning his famous smile, Mark was proud of himself.
"She's muches beautifuls," Karl approved, "muches goods vay to haul the bebes."
The kids were amazed when they got off the bus, and the driver joked, "What ya gonna do, start hauling kids yourself?"
"Just our own," Mark laughed, and waved the man out the gate. Benny was trying to get his brothers to take their shoes off before they climbed inside the van, he was upset they might get the carpet dirty.
"This is a tool," Mark intervened in the squabble, "we respect our tools, keep them clean and properly prepared for what they do for us, but they are meant to be used. This tool will have a big job, to take us all safely where ever we need to go and back home again. It will get rained on, have the doors dinged in parking lots and run over the occasional rock, and we will be thankful it is sturdy and protects us. Wipe your feet, but you can leave your shoes on." and the words were scarcely out of his mouth until there were cries of 'shotgun', I said it first."
Clora could easily get in without having to fold over her expanding middle, and she sat in the Queen's chair as she dubbed it. "My goodness, what a ....yeah, what do we call this Mark? A van?"
"A good a word as any I can think of," he smiled at Clora's eagerness. She was thinking she would never have to drive now, he could just tell by the smirky grin she was giving him. Clora made him laugh.
After supper, Clora told Olga she might as well go into the doctor with her, she needed to be checked out and get vitamins. Olga wasn't willing, inching her chair closer to Stephan for protection. "No moneys," he said sadly, "noes cans do."
"This is a condition of working for us," Clora said sternly, "Olga needs to keep healthy so she can help us and you. You come also Stephan, meet the Doctor; you will like her."
"Ohs, she iss a lady Doctor?" they both brightened and shared a look. "OK's ve goes."
They had to leave before 8 the next morning to be to the appointment on time and Clora made sure the night before, when she was hearing prayers, the kids knew what was expected of them. "Can we go pickup Leffee?" Tess wanted to know, "she'll think it's a splendid way to ride."
"Not tomorrow," Clora gently replied. "Perhaps we can take Leffee home on Saturday so you all can have a ride. Tess, I want to talk to you about including Silva when you and Leffee play. Even if Leffee says she doesn't want Silva to be with you, I want you to stick up for Silva and insist she be included. You girls will have to find a way for all three of you to be equal, that's the way we do it at our house. Do you have any questions?" Clora smoothed her daughter's curly hair back from her forehead.
"I kinda thought that," Tess admitted, "Silva is like having another sister and I want her to be happy."
"That's a very good way to look at the problem," Clora praised, and Tessee knew she had done the right thing. Tess wiggled down in bed and when Clora bent over to kiss her forehead, Tess got kicked in the arm when Clora leaned against her.
"Another un-splendid brother," Tess grumbled and then smiled as Clora smiled at her. "night Ma."
Clora had to take her time coming downstairs, as she was feeling out of balance.
"No more going upstairs," Mark was there to hold her hand and guide her safely down, "you're almost as big as you were at seven months with Tess, I don't want to find you in a heap at the bottom of the stairs."
"Yes," Clora agreed, "I feel out of center, look how far over this way they are tonight. I thought they were doing jumping jacks a while ago."
Clora had made a denim jumper with a hidden pocket, as she couldn't stand anything tight around her middle, and the front of the dress jumped with the vigorous movement of the hatching babies. "I believe I'll go into bed, I need to rest." and they slowly walked down the hall.
Warren was very unhappy looking when Mark got to the living room. "I'm being required to return, some one has their tighties in a knot because I switched to another phone, and destroyed my issued one. Can Karl drive you in tomorrow, or Stephan?"
"I think so," Mark was confident they could make arrangements. "I would like to have you destroy my phone before you go into work. It has Marshall business on it; not that the agency doesn't know more about that particular business than I do, but I try to play by the rules."
In response, Warren went to the stove, opened it and pitched the phone in. "Problem taken care of," he said with satisfaction, dusting his hands off.
"Thank you, I appreciate that." Mark went to his shirt pocket for his ever present pen and notebook. "I'm sure I have your number, let me check." It was there, and Mark was satisfied. "I'm going to change my number," Mark looked through the scattered papers on his desk for the phone contract he had pulled up the day before. "It's time," he announced.
"Call the home phone, I'm going to change my cell number also, it's a good idea to do that every so often," Warren yawned. "I'll be calling in to check on the Grandkids tomorrow night, if I don't have to be grounded with a slap on my wrist for pitching my work phone. I've been naughty," he chuckled.
Mark went to the kitchen while Warren went for his bedroom. Helga and Karl were sitting having a late night cup of cocoa. "You vants?" Helga questioned, holding up her cup and smiled when Mark said no.
"I'm just making a last check of the doors and the windows, I'm ready to turn in;" Mark set the dogs to guard, and started turning off the lights as he walked down the hall.
The old house creaked and groaned as the temperature cooled and the boards started contracting from the warmth of the day. Mark had a list of things that needed to be done while they were in town, and he ran them over in his mind as he did what exercises he could do with one good hand.
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Thanks for the more Pac great as always.
Wayne
Wayne
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#702
They had a devil of a time finding a place to park the white monster in the Doctor's lot. Stephan let the ladies off close to the door and then Mark guided him into two parking spots that were a tight fit. Stephan had been a good driver. Mark's ulterior motive concerned the fact if something unusual or some kind of attack were to happen, it wouldn't if they had both Stephan and Olga with them.
Mark supposed he trusted Stephan about as much as he did anybody, and that wasn't very much. Stephan and Olga hadn't been tested as of yet, and that was the criteria for them staying.
Mark's spidey senses were beginning to tingle at home. Twice now he had walked in on Helga and Karl having a hush-hush discussion in the kitchen, Karl smoothly changing the subject to include something inconsequential, but Mark felt the zinging in his awareness.
It felt like something was building up, and Mark always paid attention to those feelings, always.
The wait and the visit with the Doctor were terrorizing for Mark. Realistically, he had no idea that's how things were done, and he had new found respect for Clora's courage. After the visit and three pages of instructions from the Doctor, Mark and Clora waited for Stephan and Olga.
The look on Stephan's face when he and Olga came out of the room, was enough to make Mark laugh aloud, until Clora jabbed his arm and pointed to the mirror on the wall. Mark wasn't looking any different.
Walking out into the warming Spring morning, Mark shook his head violently to shake off the maternity visit memories, and noticed Stephan was doing the same. Clora and Olga were smiling in the serene way amused women use, instead of laughing out loud at their husbands.
They went shopping for more baby things, Clora asking Mark to pay Stephan his wages early, so the younger couple had money to spend. Both couples were conservative in their spending, but they still had the usual duo of store security following them. Clora wanted oranges and chocolate covered raisins, and Olga timidly pointed to a jar of sour mustard pickles with a hopeful look at Stephan.
Stephan asked if they wanted to visit his cousin for lunch, the woman ran a small ethnic café on the other side of town. Mark, somehow didn't like the feel of the request, and he declined, opting instead for a chain restaurant where they got a passable but uninspiring meal.
The last stop was the phone store, where Mark left every one in the van and ran in to purchase two new phones. Resisting the practiced sales pitch to upgrade to a bells and whistles dandy, Mark was firm, almost insistent he be sold an old fashioned flip case dinosaur.
It took so long to get the simple phones, both Clora and Olga had to come in and use the restrooms. Mark finally asked to see the manager and when the petite woman with green and purple streaks came mincing out on impossibly high heels, he snorted with laughter. He didn't mean too, it just escaped.
"I have done business with this company for longer than twenty years, if you don't want to lose a long time customer, you will have the sales associate stop stonewalling me and register the phones I asked for." Finished with playing nice, Mark took out his trac phone and dialed the company 800 number and asked to speak to the complaint department. Looking at the name tags the ladies wore, he registered their names and waited pointedly for action to start happening. He gave them 15 minutes. Then he left the store.
Mark couldn't have known that his phone number had a special notation beside it that he was to be sold a certain and particular phone, and by opting out of the game, he saved himself a lot of trouble.
The phone store down the street didn't know him, and the service was prompt, and courteous. The rate slightly higher, but the coverage stronger. He was a satisfied customer.
Mark stopped at the mail depot to make sure all their mail was being transferred to the rural route and found the same long haired, dumb acting kid that had been there before.
"I think all the mail was sent out to you," the big, over stuffed young man was to lazy to get up and look until he was forced to do so by Mark's rising voice and temper.
On the way out of town, they stopped for gas, and then had to get the instruction manual out to find the filler spout. "I don't think I've ever felt so stupid," Mark said when they finally found the hidden and locked door to the fuel tank.
Stephan just shrugged his shoulders, the fancy car was unlike anything he had ever seen or driven.
They had a devil of a time finding a place to park the white monster in the Doctor's lot. Stephan let the ladies off close to the door and then Mark guided him into two parking spots that were a tight fit. Stephan had been a good driver. Mark's ulterior motive concerned the fact if something unusual or some kind of attack were to happen, it wouldn't if they had both Stephan and Olga with them.
Mark supposed he trusted Stephan about as much as he did anybody, and that wasn't very much. Stephan and Olga hadn't been tested as of yet, and that was the criteria for them staying.
Mark's spidey senses were beginning to tingle at home. Twice now he had walked in on Helga and Karl having a hush-hush discussion in the kitchen, Karl smoothly changing the subject to include something inconsequential, but Mark felt the zinging in his awareness.
It felt like something was building up, and Mark always paid attention to those feelings, always.
The wait and the visit with the Doctor were terrorizing for Mark. Realistically, he had no idea that's how things were done, and he had new found respect for Clora's courage. After the visit and three pages of instructions from the Doctor, Mark and Clora waited for Stephan and Olga.
The look on Stephan's face when he and Olga came out of the room, was enough to make Mark laugh aloud, until Clora jabbed his arm and pointed to the mirror on the wall. Mark wasn't looking any different.
Walking out into the warming Spring morning, Mark shook his head violently to shake off the maternity visit memories, and noticed Stephan was doing the same. Clora and Olga were smiling in the serene way amused women use, instead of laughing out loud at their husbands.
They went shopping for more baby things, Clora asking Mark to pay Stephan his wages early, so the younger couple had money to spend. Both couples were conservative in their spending, but they still had the usual duo of store security following them. Clora wanted oranges and chocolate covered raisins, and Olga timidly pointed to a jar of sour mustard pickles with a hopeful look at Stephan.
Stephan asked if they wanted to visit his cousin for lunch, the woman ran a small ethnic café on the other side of town. Mark, somehow didn't like the feel of the request, and he declined, opting instead for a chain restaurant where they got a passable but uninspiring meal.
The last stop was the phone store, where Mark left every one in the van and ran in to purchase two new phones. Resisting the practiced sales pitch to upgrade to a bells and whistles dandy, Mark was firm, almost insistent he be sold an old fashioned flip case dinosaur.
It took so long to get the simple phones, both Clora and Olga had to come in and use the restrooms. Mark finally asked to see the manager and when the petite woman with green and purple streaks came mincing out on impossibly high heels, he snorted with laughter. He didn't mean too, it just escaped.
"I have done business with this company for longer than twenty years, if you don't want to lose a long time customer, you will have the sales associate stop stonewalling me and register the phones I asked for." Finished with playing nice, Mark took out his trac phone and dialed the company 800 number and asked to speak to the complaint department. Looking at the name tags the ladies wore, he registered their names and waited pointedly for action to start happening. He gave them 15 minutes. Then he left the store.
Mark couldn't have known that his phone number had a special notation beside it that he was to be sold a certain and particular phone, and by opting out of the game, he saved himself a lot of trouble.
The phone store down the street didn't know him, and the service was prompt, and courteous. The rate slightly higher, but the coverage stronger. He was a satisfied customer.
Mark stopped at the mail depot to make sure all their mail was being transferred to the rural route and found the same long haired, dumb acting kid that had been there before.
"I think all the mail was sent out to you," the big, over stuffed young man was to lazy to get up and look until he was forced to do so by Mark's rising voice and temper.
On the way out of town, they stopped for gas, and then had to get the instruction manual out to find the filler spout. "I don't think I've ever felt so stupid," Mark said when they finally found the hidden and locked door to the fuel tank.
Stephan just shrugged his shoulders, the fancy car was unlike anything he had ever seen or driven.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
So something is up 
I sure hope Karl and Helga haven't been co-opted- again.
I sure hope Karl and Helga haven't been co-opted- again.