Revenge in Advance - The New Way

"I appreciate that, Mr. President," Bill said. "I like to think I've trained him well," he added with a smile. Ricardo smiled as well.

"Maybe you can rethink retirement, then," he said. Bill shook his head.

"No sir," he said. "I plan to live forever. Besides, someone has to kick this galut in the balls now and then. Trust me, if you ever drank his coffee, you'd want to kick him in the balls, too." We all laughed at that.

"In all seriousness," Ricardo added, looking at both Bill and Oscar. "If there's anything you need. Anything at all. Don't hesitate to call me."

"Thank you, Mr. President," Bill said. "Right now, I believe Agent Warren and I need to grab some lunch and head back home." Ricardo nodded his head.

"I agree," he said. "Keep me updated on your progress."

"We will," Bill said. They shook hands and were escorted out by the same officer who originally met them. They ate lunch and went to the airport, where they boarded a company plane.

"What do you think?" Bill asked as the plane reached altitude.

"I'm very impressed with the way President Lopez handled the situation," Oscar said.

"You mean, you finally met a politician you actually respect?" Bill asked. Oscar laughed.

"Well, probably the second or third," Oscar said. "But yeah, I do respect him. Maybe there's hope for us yet." By the time they landed, trucks had already started to deliver bottled water to the affected communities. Groundwater remediation had also begun and emergency notices had been issued by the EPA, warning residents to use bottled water for the next few days, until additional testing could be completed. No mention was made of any contamination as no one wanted to spark a panic.

Pleased with the initial action, Oscar and Bill went to Jim's lab for an update. The lab was bustling with activity when they entered and Oscar spotted Jim and Ron having a discussion in his office. They stopped talking when Oscar and Bill entered.

"Everything alright?" Bill asked.

"Yeah," Jim said. "We're just going over some preliminary results and we think we may have a possible solution."

"You 'think' you may have a 'possible' solution?" Oscar asked, with emphasis on "think" and "possible."

"It's loosely based on something I developed years ago as a hobby," Ron said. "I've used it myself for years with no adverse side effects and it's been used at Camp Rollins with excellent results. Better yet, all the ingredients are readily available and have already been approved by the FDA."

"What do you think, Jim?" Bill asked. "Do you trust this?"

"Dr. Black is pretty much the smartest man on the planet," Jim said. "I trust what he says." Bill nodded his head.

"When will you know for certain if this will work?" Oscar asked.

"Within 24 hours," Ron said.

"That doesn't give us a whole lot of time. Can this be mass produced and delivered in four days?" Bill asked. Jim and Ron looked at each other before either one spoke.

"That may be a tall order," Ron said. "To be honest, I don't know. Maybe if the president uses the Defense Production Act like they did during the 2020 pandemic it can be done, but outside of that, who knows?" Bill nodded his head.

"Let us know the minute you have an answer," he said.

"We will, boss," Jim said.

"Good," Bill said. "Keep at it." Bill and Oscar left and went back to the main administrative building. When they got there, Bill addressed Oscar.

"I think it's time for you and the other agents to focus on Allison," he said. "I'll take care of coordinating everything else. Once I hear from Jim and Ron, I'll contact the president."

"Sounds good, boss," Oscar said. "You sure you don't want to retire?" Bill laughed.

"Not on your life, son," the older man said.

...

Dale Price got home that night, sore, tired and feeling weaker than he had since that day they all saw the strange chemtrails in the sky. Donna was still gone. He figured she had probably headed to the Truck Stop as she had been doing these last few days. He trudged into the kitchen and turned on the water faucet to make a pot of coffee. He recoiled when he saw the brown stuff coming out of the faucet.

"What the fuck?" he asked out loud. He quickly turned off the faucet and tried the bathtub with the same results. It was a good thing he had cleaned up at the shop before he left. There was no way he could use what was coming out of the tap.

He grabbed a beer and went into the living room, sat down and turned on the television. The first thing he saw was a blue screen, advising residents in the county to avoid using any tap water until further notice. Terrific, he thought. Now, he would have to drive to the store and stock up on bottled water.

He drove to the supermarket and found a number of people in line and three large trucks offloading case after case of bottled water. The water didn't seem to last very long, as most of the customers were buying it up as fast as it could be put on the shelf. He grabbed two large cases and 10 one-gallon jugs -- the maximum amount the manager was letting anyone take at one time, then proceeded to the checkout counter, where he stood in line for nearly a half hour.

He paid and drove home, noticing Donna's car in the driveway. He wondered what happened that caused her to come home so early. He got out of the truck and carried the water into the house, stacking it on the kitchen floor.

"What the hell did you do to the water?" Donna screeched at him. He looked at her and took in her "dress," or rather, what there was of it.

"Nothing," he said. "Why are you home so early? I figured you'd be at the Truck Stop."

"It's closed," she said in a testy tone of voice. "So is every other restaurant and bar in town."

"So, I guess it's just the two of us tonight," he said.

"Yeah, well, you can forget getting any of this," she told him, pointing to herself. Just then, there was a knock at the door. Donna opened it to find a man wearing an official-looking jacket. He was accompanied by two others in medical garb with a cart. He handed her a pamphlet.

"What is this?" she asked. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm with the county, ma'am," the man said. "I'm informing you that we are now under a no water usage order until further notice. The pamphlet I gave provides additional information."

"How long is this going to be?" she asked.

"That's difficult to say, ma'am," the man said. "Could be two days, maybe longer."

"What?" she asked. "I have to take a shower. What about using the toilet?"

"That's all explained in the pamphlet, ma'am," the man said. The two medical types walked in the house, pushing their cart.

"What are you doing?" Donna asked, irritated.

"County Medical," one of the techs said. "We're here to take a blood sample from everyone in the house."

"Why?" she asked.

"Routine tests, ma'am," the other tech said. "You can either let us take blood here, or at the police station, after we've arrested you for violating lawful medical orders."

"What?" Donna asked. "You're full of shit. I never heard of such a thing." One of the techs pulled out a set of handcuffs. Seeing that, Donna suddenly backed down. "Alright, just get it over with," she said. The techs took two vials of blood from both Donna and Dale and put them in a temperature-controlled chest.

"Good day," the tech said when he finished. They left the house as Donna stood there, open-mouthed, about to say something else. How dare those stupid man simply walk into her house and not give her the deference she deserved, she thought to herself. Apparently, all men are as stupid as her husband, she mused. She slammed the door and turned to Dale.

"You need to fix this," she ordered. "How the fuck am I supposed to take a shower?"

"You don't," he said quietly. "You wash yourself with this," he added, holding up a gallon jug of water.

"What? You expect me to wash myself in the sink with a jug of cold water?" she asked, livid. He shrugged his shoulders.

"What do you think we did in the Army when we were out in the field?" he asked.

"You're gross," she said, disgusted. "Get away from me. You can wash your scuzzy ass like that, but don't expect me to." She stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door, locking it behind her. He chuckled as she did so. Maybe, he thought, she'd stay out of his face that night. That would be a nice change.

...

Allison sat in her recliner in her San Francisco apartment as her "doggie" knelt between her legs, doing his best to make his mistress happy. Right now, she wasn't very happy. Her phone had been buzzing all evening with text messages saying that no-water usage orders had been placed on the counties she had targeted in phase one of her scheme.

This wasn't good, she thought to herself. The chemical she had dispersed was designed to be distributed through the local water supplies and the aquifer. She and Victoria had worked this all out. The sites were carefully chosen so as to have the best distribution of the drug, and it was already having an impact on the local population. In a few days, the chemical would leach into the groundwater and spread throughout the entire Mississippi Basin.

Only after that had happened could phase two begin. She did a quick news search and discovered that a number of counties -- more than the ones she had targeted -- were under similar orders, and that the Army Corps of Engineers, working with the EPA, were engaged in groundwater remediation operations.

The reports didn't specify any reason for the operation, but the head of the EPA claimed it was being done for routine "testing" to ensure a safe and adequate water supply. Bullshit, she thought to herself. There was only one reason this was being done. And deep down, she knew who was ultimately behind it -- Oscar Warren, the same man who defeated her 22 years ago. Angry, she screamed and threw her phone against the wall.

"AAAAARRRGHHHHH!" she screamed, causing the emasculated creature between her legs to recoil, whimpering as he did so. He looked at her through scared eyes, trembling. He had never seen his mistress like this before. Was she going to hurt me, he thought fearfully.

She looked at him and her face softened for a moment. She thought about killing him in that instant, but had a change of heart. It wasn't his fault, and she was responsible for his life. She reached out and petted his head softly.

"It's okay, boy," she said. "I'm not angry with you." The young man stopped trembling, but kept his eyes on her, wondering what she was going to do next. She petted him for a few more moments and waited until he had calmed down. "Go on back to your kennel now. Everything's going to be fine. Just get some sleep now." The man scampered to his metal cage on all fours, climbed inside and curled into a ball on his blanket. He felt safe behind the bars of his cage and fell asleep, sucking his thumb.

Once she felt safe that he was secure in his cage, she sat back down and thought some more. There was no question about what had to be done. Oscar Warren had to die. But how? He had defeated her once before and he had managed to take down the top tier of Mona's organization. And she knew he had the support of the entire federal government. It wouldn't be easy, but she realized that she would have to draw him into the open somehow...

...

The next morning, Oscar sat in his office going through his email when he saw an urgent message from Ron Wiseman pop up in his secure messaging application. He opened it up and saw Ron's face.

"What have you got for me, Ron?" he asked.

"I've nailed down the location of that cell phone where all the texts were being sent," he said. "There was another flood of messages sent to it last night. All of them referring to the water orders that went out in the Mississippi Basin."

"Where is it?" Oscar asked.

"San Francisco," he said. "I'm emailing you what I have. The GPS on the phone is accurate to within 30 feet."

"Are you tracking it now?" Oscar asked.

"I am," he said. "It just turned on and seems to be stationary at the moment, so there's a chance she may have abandoned it and moved on."

"Thanks," Oscar said. They ended the call and Oscar opened the email Ron sent him. He entered the code for the phone on his mobile device and before long, a flashing red dot indicated the location of the phone. It appeared to be in an apartment complex on the east side of town. He called the Task Force's San Francisco office and spoke to Harold Greene, the agent in charge.

"Harold, this is Oscar Warren," he said when Harold answered.

"What's up, Oscar," Harold said.

"I need you to apprehend someone," Oscar said. "She's on our ten most wanted list."

"Love to, Oscar," Harold said. Oscar sent him the GPS coordinates of the phone by email.

"I just sent you GPS coordinates," Oscar said. "I suggest you take some backup with you. And use extreme caution. The last time I tried to apprehend her, she booby-trapped her place with a bomb. Call me the moment you have her in custody."

"Will do, Oscar. I'll take some bomb techs with me," Harold said, ending the call. Oscar called Bill and gave him the good news.

"Did you say San Francisco?" Bill asked.

"Yes, why?" Oscar asked.

"I'll have to double-check, but I think President Lopez is headed out that way for some kind of a fundraiser with the governor," Bill said.

"Shit!" Oscar exclaimed. "When?" he asked.

"Not sure, but I think either today or tomorrow," Bill said. "Why?"

"I'm wondering if this might be a trap," Oscar said.

...

Harold Greene pulled up to the two-story apartment complex and put on his tactical gear as FBI agents and local bomb squad techs gathered around. He fired up his body cam and made sure it connected to the Internet, then briefed the others on the situation. Afterward, they headed to the second-story apartment where Oscar said Allison's phone had been located.

They got to the door of the apartment and Harold looked at the FBI agent who studied his scanner device. It was designed to "see" through walls and could locate hot spots that might indicate the presence of a person.

"What do you see," Harold asked quietly.

"There's someone inside," the agent said. "Looks like he or she is crouched in one corner, but the heat signature is somewhat obfuscated."

"Let me see," Harold said. He looked at the screen and saw the heat signature. The center of the person appeared to be much cooler than the rest, almost as if the person had something covering his or her chest. Harold didn't want to take any chances, so he had another agent drill a small hole in the wall next to the door, down by the floor.

After the hole was drilled, a tiny camera was inserted and the agent operating it guided the camera so they could see inside. When he was finished, they looked and was shocked to see a nearly-naked young man trembling in one corner as he looked from right to left. He wore what was obviously an explosive vest.

"I don't see any other heat signature in the apartment," the first agent said as he scanned the apartment from outside. Harold motioned for a bomb tech to examine the vest on the high-def screen. The tech zoomed in and examined the device.

"It looks like a fairly standard setup," the tech said. "And unless I'm missing something, it looks like it's set to go live when the door opens."

"Can you jam it from out here? Keep it from arming?" Harold asked.

"Possibly," the tech said. "But we need to evacuate this part of the complex first." Harold motioned for the other agents to gather around, then instructed them to clear the complex as fast as possible. They nodded their heads and moved off, clearing the other residents from the building. Once the other residents were clear, the tech pulled out another piece of equipment and turned it on.

"Everyone needs to get back downstairs," he said. Harold gave the signal and everyone went back downstairs. We watched as the bomb tech did his thing. After a few minutes, he gave the thumbs up and they went back upstairs.

"Is it disarmed?" Harold asked. The tech nodded his head.

"I believe it is," he said. "But there could be a mechanical switch." One of the FBI agents checked the camera and shook his head.

"I don't see any tripwires or a dead man switch," he said. Another FBI agent carefully picked the door lock. Standing to one side, he carefully opened the door. Nothing happened. The young man in the corner shook as he watched us slowly enter. He eyes were wide and he seemed frightened.

The agents worked their way through the apartment, announcing "clear" as they went from room to room. The bomb tech went to the man and examined the device on his chest. He clipped a few wires and removed the vest. He handed it to two other techs, who put the device inside a heavy box and took it outside.

The man looked at us, his face white, his eyes wide with fear. It was almost as if he didn't understand what had nearly happened to him.

"Where's my mistress?" he cried in a slight British accent, tears falling down his cheeks. "I want my mistress. Please," he begged, his hands reaching out to the agents. Harold noticed the large dog kennel where the man slept and couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had witnessed a lot in his time on the Task Force, but nothing quite like this. What kind of a monster does this to a fellow human being, he asked himself.

An FBI agent brought out a blanket and Harold wrapped it around the man's shoulders. He called for an ambulance to take the man to a hospital and noticed the man was either unable to stand on his own two feet or was unwilling to do so. Harold helped him stand and supported him as he slowly hobbled to the door, where a gurney and two medical technicians stood, waiting. Harold looked at the man.

"How long ago did your mistress leave?" he asked. The man looked at him, not quite sure how to answer.

"A while," he finally said. "I don't know," he added in a whiny voice. The medical folks took the man away after Harold gave them his card. The agents continued searching the apartment. Harold found the phone and placed it in an evidence bag. It seemed that Allison had taken everything else and wiped the apartment clean of fingerprints. She was apparently done using the place as well as the man she had attached the bomb to.

Harold walked out of the apartment and called Oscar, who picked up on the first ring.

"I take it you saw what happened?" Harold asked.

"We saw," Oscar said. Both he and Bill saw the whole thing from inside the operations room thanks to the body cam Harold wore during the operation.

"I'm going to the hospital to follow up on the man," Harold said. "I'm also putting out an APB on Allison."

"Good idea," Oscar said. "Let us know what you find out."

"I will," Harold said. Oscar ended the call and turned to Bill.

"You were right," Bill said. "It was a trap. And that poor slob damn near lost his life. What do you plan to do now?"

"I plan to trip her trap," Oscar said. "When is President Lopez set to be in San Francisco?"

"Tomorrow morning, about 9 am local time," Bill said. "You're not seriously going to go there are you?"

"I have to," Oscar said. "I'm the one she wants. This has to end."

"Then I'm going with you," Bill said. Oscar started to argue, but the look on Bill's face shut him down.

"Then we'd better get going, don't you think?" Oscar asked. "That way we can get there before the temporary airspace restriction sets in." Bill nodded his head. "I'll let Rita know and meet you at the airfield." Within an hour, they were flying to San Francisco. On the way, Bill spoke to Ricardo and his security detail and briefed them on the situation, while Oscar called Harold and arranged for him to meet them at the airport.

After the plane landed and was secured in its hangar, Oscar and Bill met Harold and they drove to a hotel downtown. Harold updated them on the man in Allison's apartment.