Chapter 51

"I want you to find out everything about him. I know he is hiding something."

"Yes, Sir."

"The call records I asked you to retrieve. Do you have it?"

"No, Sir, they could not extract that recording. It was erased from the service provider's server, and they said something like this has never happened before."

Agent Ross stood by his desk, sipping his coffee with the cup his mother had given him when she was alive; it was one of the few things he had from her after the house had burned down. Losing his family and his mother made him fall into a dark place. He had a ten-year-old son who he had lost in that fire. The fire was too hot for him to enter the house, and those screams were unforgettable. As he tries to break through the hot blazing fire, the fireman pulls him out. By the time they got to his family, they were all dead. He had started drinking alot and became homeless for a year. Agent Ross had a strange appearance, almost as if it was contrived. His hair was wizened and straw-like, nearly fossilized; it was so dry. He had sad, way-worn eyes and a distinctive beard. It wasn't a thick, captain Ahab beard but more like something a lunatic might have: straggly, unkempt, and spittle-flecked. His face was toil-worn and tanned from exposure to the elements, and he walked with a weary, passive air until he would explode in a burst of rage. His fingers were gnarled and knobbly, and his clothes were musty and minging, judging by the reaction of the people he passed. Their noses would crinkle in disgust and peel away from his presence. He was given a second chance and worked his way up to becoming one of the best agents, and there he stood in his office, with his black tie and blue shirt, wearing brown pants, staring through the window. After what he had been through, every day was a blessing.

"Agent Josh, what about his wife's phone? Were you able to trace anything on her number?"

"No, Sir."

"I can feel it in my gut. Something is wrong; if you had seen his face when I questioned him, you would know his hiding something, but it's not because he was hiding something that this case bothers me. It's because he was scared."

Agent Ross took a sip of his coffee and turned to agent Josh, "we will nail the son of a bitches behind this."

Josh knew that look in agent Ross's eyes; it was when he was not going to let go of the case.

"Jack, what happened back there? The one moment, they were going to detain us, and the next moment the officer looked like he got scared for his life?"

"The hospital is calling," said Angela as they drove back.

"Hello?"

"This is Doctor Gabriel. Am I speaking to Angela?"

"Angela speaking, I need you to come to the hospital."

"We are on our way Dr, we will see you soon."

While driving down the dark road between the tall tree, Angela remembers being deep in the forest. She survived the worst.

Arriving at the hospital, the doctor approaches them, "Thank you for coming. Nicole has woken up, she is much calmer, and Marcus is stable. We managed to stop the internal bleeding, and we have him on a drip, but can we expect anything with such an accident? He might not be able to remember certain things."

"Thank you, doctor. Has Nicole said anything?"

"No, but we would like to run some tests on her. She has been asking for you and your brother."

"Thank you, doctor, for everything."

"It's my pleasure. I have known your mom, you know. She was a wonderful woman; please don't hesitate to call me if there is anything."

Jack's phone rang, "excuse me."

He stepped outside. "Is this Jack?"

"Yes, speaking?"

"This is agent Ross from the FBI. We want to ask you a few questions relating to the incident which took place."

"Sure, if we can do this in the morning, it would be great, as I am with a friend in the hospital."

"That friend's name would be Marcus? Would it?"

How does he know all this? Who is this guy? Jack thought to himself.

"Yes, it is him, agent Ross."

"Great, I have a few questions for him when he recovers. Is his sister Nicole around and your sister Angela."

"Listen, agent, first you wanted to bring me in for questioning, and it's starting to sound like you want to bring them all in for questioning?"

"Well, yes, I would like to, as we are still trying to get a clearer perspective on Nicole's disappearance and suddenly appearing again, and then Marcus arriving and all these coincidences taking place."

"Agent Ross sounds like quite a bit of allegation you have. I mean, putting Marcus next to all these happenings and asking me to come in for questioning. You do know I can wave my right to be silent since you have nothing concrete."

"Nothing concrete yet, Jack. I know who you are, your mother, and what she taught you. In fact, your family and I go far back."

"I am sure you do. I will come in for questioning tomorrow, agent Ross, but do know that I am doing this because we have nothing to hide."

Agent Ross laughed, "man if I had a dollar for every time I heard those words, I would be a wealthy man when I retire."

Jack laughed, "well, that's if you don't drink out all your money."

How did this kid know his past? Has he underestimated Jack? Is his mom being a housewife, and Jack going as far as a brown belt? This kid seems to know more about him than he knows about the kid, "Jack, I will see you in the morning; by the way, how's your Claire doing?"

"Are you sure you don't want to bring her also in for questioning? I mean, you are looking for a purpose to overcome your grief. What better way to do that than to blame innocent people and tie yourself to your job?"

Who the fuck is this kid? How could he know who I was, and did he know I was going to call?

"Agent Ross, how's that coffee?"

"Kid quit playing games with me. Who are you?"

"Your the one calling me and asking me who I am?"

"Doesn't sound like you are a skilled agent. Maybe all that booze back then has isolated your thoughts to be fixed on your gut feeling and emotion?"

"Do you know who I am? You will sit years behind bars if you go down that route with me, Jack. It's not a nice road, trust me. You have no idea what tree you are barking up," said Agent Ross as he tightened his grip on the phone handle.

"I'm not interested in walking down any road with you, agent. I mean, get that you want me to walk down the path you once chose, but let's not forget the obvious: hadn't it been my mom who changed your life, you would be like a stray dog had it not been for her."

"Who was your mom?"

"See you tomorrow, agent."

Claire walked up to Jack placing her hand on his shoulder, "is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine, thank you, any updates on Nicole?"

"Yes, she is fine. She can leave with us. As for Marcus, he has not woken up."

"I don't like this kid, but it seems like I underestimated this kid. Whoever he is, I can feel his hiding something," said agent Ross.

"Sir, it's late. We should head home?"

"You can leave Josh. I want to see if I can find more information on this kid. What bothers me is he knew more about me than I knew about him."

"But sir, what did he know that we don't know?"

Agent Ross looked over at Josh, touching his grey beard, "alot Josh, a bit too much more than he should."

Josh nodded, "So what are you going to do? Shouldn't you get more information on this kid before questioning him?"

"No, I want to get the details out of him while it's still fresh." Agent Ross picked up his mug and sipped his coffee, "People will surprise you when you least expect it."

Josh took his bag, "I will see you in the morning, Sir."

"Have a good night, Josh."

Agent Ross walked over to the window in the dark office, playing with his beard, "Had it not been for my mom, you would still be on the streets."

"This was classified information. How could this kid have known all this? Unless his mom is the mysterious lady who pulled the strings for him to get into the agency. Why would this lady do this? There is a piece of this puzzle that's missing. I will find out what is going on."

Agent Ross recalls that day when people walked past him with umbrellas, ignoring him like he never existed. It's been a full twenty-four hours, and not a single cent he made for that day.

He had walked over to the bridge and stood on top of the ledge. An FBI agent pulled him off the ledge and covered him with the jacket. "It is okay," said a young female voice. The next moment he was sedated and woke up with bright lights strapped to the bed. He was intoxicated from the alcohol; after months had passed, the FBI walked into the rehab center handing him a file with his new alias.