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Rated: E · Chapter · Thriller/Suspense · #1412859
Best friends become bitter enemies. Blood boils when strange telepathy is practiced.
Chapter 5

Hack sat in Jim's truck in front of the garage door of the house he worked on every day. It was almost eight in the evening as he sat here waiting for Margaret to show up to hear his account of recent events. He absently ran his fingers over the insignia on the cover of the computer that lay on the seat next to him. He wondered why the chief hadn't put it back in its bag. He laid his head back and closed his eyes. He tried to remember what the bag looked like. He could picture the handles... the brass zipper... the mud spot on the back. He could see it on the dirty grey formica counter at the sheriff's office. He could feel the heat of the room... he could here the music in the background. In his mind he thoughtlessly picked up the bag. The sudden jerking and cold passed through him as he came to his senses by the sound of an approaching car. Although not yet dark, he saw headlights pulling in behind him in the rearview mirror. A sudden shock went through his body as he saw for the second time in an hours passing, he came out of meditation clutching a physical object; first the ADA... now the bag.
"At least I didn't scream this time," he told himself shuddering.

He clumsily put the computer into the bag and tucked the keys into Jim's tool bag behind the seat. Even though the temperature had dropped considerably when the sun set, Hack was drenched in sweat and shaking with fear. With legs still weak from the latest shock, he staggered to the passenger side of Maggie's black Tahoe and climbed into the seat.
"Michael you look like crap!"
"I shouldn't, I've just had the crap scared out of me twice in the last hour."
"Hack, what's going on, you're scaring me."
"Trust me; you're not as scared as you will be when you hear what I've got to tell you. But first I need you to take me to the bank so I can pay for my truck. I think I'm going to need it."
He handed her four of the five stacks of hundreds. She gave him a questioning look.
"It's legal. I'll explain it all to you."
"Hack, you know I can't abuse my position, I could lose my job."
"I'll tell you what; I'll tell you what I can on the way over and if you don't think it's worth it, I'll wait ‘till tomorrow; fair enough?"
"Fair enough," she said as she put the car in gear.

Maggie backed out onto Main Street and headed west and purposely drove slow toward the bank just a few blocks away.

Hack told Maggie about his find that morning, Jim's uneasiness, his missed lunch with Dave, the strange meeting at the sheriff's office, the confrontation with Dave, - minus the drinking part - and his two encounters during meditation.

Maggie was a good listener; she held her questions until Hack finished his story.
She pulled into the bank's darkening parking lot and shut off the engine.

After about a minute's silence, Maggie turned and looked at Hack. Even with the failing light, Hack could see the worry in her eyes.
"No wonder you're shaking... have you experienced anything like this before?"
"Other than waking up with change in my hand when I was a kid; no... Why?"
"I've read that some people have the ability to relocate objects with their mind through meditation. I thought it was far fetched, but I can see you aren't in a story telling mood. The article said that people with a stronger ability could move people or even themselves by grabbing a stationary object... they called it Objective Telepathy."
"I don't know what it is, but I'm still a little freaked out by all of it...and what does it have to do with Dave?"
"I don't know...let me think about it while I fill out your paperwork and get your keys. Stay here and take it easy until I get back then we'll see what we can figure out; okay?"
"Maggie, I didn't want to drop this on you but I needed someone... thank you."
Maggie leaned over and gently kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, we'll get through this."
The intoxicating smell of her perfume lingered as she slipped out of the seat and closed the door.
Hack watched by the light of the foyer as Maggie unlocked the bank and partially disappeared to enter her pin into the security system... then she was gone from his sight. A few seconds later the lights came on inside and he could see the teller stations where many Friday afternoons he would come to cash his check and pay some of his bills. He thought about the many times he patiently stood in line and waited to be served. He remembered the plaque mounted at every station proclaiming the "Bryson Corporation" as the new owners and sole funding source of the new "Crypt Vault" under the bank. And "Established in 2006" in embossed in gold under the insignia of... of two crossed swords over a crescent moon. Hack's heart raced as he thought of the icon of the encrypted file. He reached into the bag and pulled out the computer to power it up, then decided against it and hid the ADA under the seat.
"Hurry up Maggie, we need to get out of here." He whispered to himself.
As if hearing him, the lights went out and Maggie hurried out the door.
Maggie was barely in the car when Hack asked,"What do you know about the Bryson Corporation."
"I know enough... I work for them. Why... what's up?"
"Let's drive somewhere safer and I'll tell you."
"You're scaring me again."
"I'm sorry Mag, but it isn't going to get any better."
Maggie backed out of the lot and pointed the SUV east toward the farm lands outside of town.
"I didn't tell you before, but there is an encrypted file on this computer... in fact, the only file on this computer. And do you know what the icon of this file is? It's two swords crossed over a crescent moon... recognize it?"
"Yes, I do, but I don't get it... why is that such a big deal?"
"Well for one; the computer has no programs on it except Architectural programs... two, Dave, if I'm not mistaken, designed the "Crypt Vaults" to the company specs... three, Dave is the only person I know who would know how to use the programs on this computer. I am only guessing, but I think Dave is involved in something dirty that concerns either the bank or the Bryson Corporation, or both."
A look of hurt shock came over Maggie's face as she glanced at Hack.
"Mike, Dave would never get involved in something like that."
"Don't get me wrong, I know Dave wouldn't... unless he was forced in some way."
After a minute's heavy silence, Hack opened his window to let the breeze of the passing country ease his tension.
"Let's back up a bit," he said kindly. He could see the worry starting to put lines across her pretty forehead.
"What could possibly be in the Crypt Vault that would generate this kind of trouble? No one in this town has that kind of money."
"I can't give out that kind of information, Mike, I could lose my job."
"You could lose a whole lot more if Dave is involved in this."
The silence rode out for so long, that Hack didn't think she would answer, but finally she let out a defeated sigh and said in an almost whisper, "Bryson has over twenty billion dollars in gold bullion in the Crypt Vault. The sheriff and I, and now you, are the only ones in town who know. Dave doesn't even know.
After a silence that weighed like lead, Margaret turned to him in a quavering voice and said, Hack, I'm scared, I need to get home to the kids and make sure they are alright."
As she slowed the car and did a U-turn, in the reflection of a porch light, He saw tears flowing down her face.
His heart broke for her.
Why did he have to get her involved...?
...because he had no choice.
© Copyright 2008 Floyd Armlin (tarmlin1 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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