THE YET UNANSWERED ONES

A Story by Willys Watson

The burly man behind the wheel of the old Ford F-150, not likely more than thirty five, was driving as fast as he thought he safely could down the two-lane blacktop, justifying his caution by the lack of adequate visibility with whatever moonlight there might have been being obscured by the heavily overcast cloud cover, the aged, yellowed headlight lenses that provided far less than desirable illumination and his fear about using the high-beams because he believed they were being followed. Knowing his partner, the thin woman sitting on the truck’s wide bench seat nearest the passenger side window, had much better night vision eyesight than he was of no comfort because she had never learned to drive a stick shift and the Hero slouched between them, the likely owner of the truck, was still under the influence of whatever concoction he had been injected with when he was captured.

Still, the driver, who went by the name of Hank, silently congratulated himself for managing to put at least twenty miles between them and their pursuers, a short lived reprieve that was disrupted when the engine started to sputter, then die. Cussing softly to himself, Hank used the decreasing forward motion of the vehicle to coast to a stop on the shoulder of the road.

"You think you can arouse our Hero enough to fix this thing before they catch up with us?" Hank wishfully asked his partner.

"I’ll try, but let’s hope all they injected him with was a sedative," replied the woman who went by the name of Julie.

"And hope it’s actually his truck and he’s some kind of mechanic," Hank responded as she gently shook the Hero’s shoulder.

The Hero’s reaction was virtually undetectable so she shook him rather violently, the results being the Hero jerked his head upwards. Hank and Julie grabbed his arms to steady him enough to guide his back into the bench’s cushioned headrest. Then Julie rested her hand softly on the Hero’s hand as she and Hank watched him try to focus on his surroundings. When the Hero turned towards the source of the touching hand, followed the hand up to head and, through a visual blur, saw the smiling face of a woman he suddenly bolted upright on the bench seat.

"What - what - who - what - "

"We were saving you and the engine died and I don’t know why and hope you can fix it," Hank rapidly explained as Julie steadied the Hero. As the Hero first stared at Hank with bewilderment, then tried to focus on the instrument panel, Hank continued, "and we can’t just sit here because we’re being chased."

"Chased? Chased why?" the Hero demanded to know.

"We’ll answer the questions when you’re a little more coherent, my friend," Hank promised to try to calm him down, "but right now we’ve got serious problems."

"What - what - what?"

"The gas gauge says we’ve got gas but the engine suddenly died and we’re hoping - "

"Turn off those damn headlights, you idiot, before you wear down the battery," the Hero yelled and when Hank complied the Hero moved his own face to within inches of the panel and loudly commanded, "and flip that toggle switch under the radio, the one on the dashboard, the one that looks like a toggle switch."

"Axillary tank?"

"With twelve gallons in it. If you’re going to steal a dude’s truck you should know the vehicle you’re stealing," the Hero reacted sarcastically.

"We were trying to save you and that truck was what was available," Julie defensively answered.

"Save me? From who? I don’t remember s**t!"

"We’ll explain all that but right now we need to keep moving," Hank reminded him as the engine turned over several times, then started. Then Hank turned the headlights back on, shifted into gear and pulled back onto the road. "and we’re not stealing your truck but fleeing together."

"From who, for God’s sake?" And don’t feed me any of that explain later bullshit."

"You tried to rescue us, got noticed and was shot with a dart filled with some kind of serum and won’t remember much until the effects wear off," Julie informed him.

"And because you tried to rescue us they must have thought you were one of us and they wanted to interrogate you, which likely meant using torture," Hank interjected.

"So you rescued me? A stranger?"

"It was the moral thing to do because you rescued us first," Julie stated.

"So if all I did was try to rescue you and had no information to offer whoever they are and they didn’t know me from squat, then they’re following me because they’re really after you, right?"

"Afraid so, but if it’s worth a consolation prize when we dragged you outside after you wasted those three agents their own SUV wasn’t around and the only usable vehicle we noticed was your truck parked up the road and it’s not likely they know what we escaped in," Julie added.

"At least there’s that," the Hero snickered.

"And the only reason we got a head start was you took out those agents and we’re not sure when their leader would call to check up on the interrogation process."

"Oh, God! It’s like I’m been sucked into some b-grade Hollywood spy film," the Hero deeply signed. "And if I was going under because of some kind of serum how the hell could I possibly have taken out three agents?"

"But you did. You saved us first, then we saved you and you don’t remember yet because of - "

" - that damn serum, right?"

"It’s so sweet you two are getting along so well now but we’ve got some really serious s**t to worry about. How about focusing on a solution?" Hank chided them while trying to make it sound whimsical.

"And you’re the good guys, right?"

"That’s why you’re alive, wouldn’t you think? Just trust us and help us figure something out," Hank countered.

After several miles and a half-dozen minutes had passed in silence the Hero raised his hand to get Hank’s attention.

"Okay, but you’re got to trust me again to save your a*s again," the Hero announced and when they nodded in agreement, he instructed Hank. "Slow down starting now, slowly to a stop so you don’t leave skid marks. Then slowly back up until I tell you to stop."

Hank did as instructed and backed up the truck perhaps thirty yards when the Hero motioned for him to stop. Then the Hero pointed to a one-lane, gravel side road.

"Now, turn and drive slowly onto the gravel so we don’t stir up a cloud of dust, turn off the headlights so we don’t attract any more possible attention, use just the park lights and slowly go up the road until I say stop."

"And we’re doing this why?" Julie wondered as soon a the Hero motioned for Hank to stop the truck.

"For someone who seems so cryptic with their answers it’s kind of ironic to be asking me why, huh?"

"Point made, but our lives are at stake here."

"We sit and wait and watch the county road to see if we’re being follow now and, if so, by how many vehicles."

"That I understand," Hank remarked as they climbed down from the cab.

Though skeptical at first Hank admitted to himself that the Hero’s sudden decision to take the side road was wise because on both sides of the gravel road was thick underbrush and trees with low hanging branches that offered excellent seclusion while they watched for oncoming traffic on the county road. Still, Hank wondered if his choice was instinctive or somehow tied into the Hero’s ability to so quickly, effectively take out those three agents and, perhaps because of his long time vocation, Hank still had some suspicions.

While Hank and Julie sat on the tailgate watching for traffic the Hero, who was slowly pacing the gravel road to help clear his mind, had his own suspicions, mainly because of the unanswered questions and his only option at the time seemed to be the asking of the questions and hoping for some honest answers.

"Who are you two?" the Hero finally asked as he approached the tailgate.

"I’m sorry. With everything happening so quickly there wasn’t much time to introduce ourselves. I’m Hank and this is Julie," Hank told him as he motioned towards his partner.

"Real names or professional names?"

"That’s an odd question to ask," Julie curtly responded.

"I’m asking the questions here and I figure I deserve answers because you claim I saved your lives."

"We can’t answer everything because so much is classified."

"I’ve already figured that out," the Hero smirked. "Classified like with some kind of federal agents or spies sort of thing?"

"We can’t answer that."

"And we’ve already told you it’s on a need to know basis," Hank amended her answer.

"And I’ve already ruled out the likelihood of you being spies because you’re so inept at it, " was the Hero’s not so thinly veiled sardonic retort, a ploy he hoped would temp them to blurt out an honest answer. When they didn’t verbally react, the Hero went deeper, "I mean, what kind of professionally trained spies would let themselves be drugged and kidnaped so easily and then, when expected, didn’t have the common sense to grab their weapons after you say I disabled them?"

"There’s no call to be insulting," Julie chided him. "And how come that guy snuck up on you so easily?"

"I’ve lost about 50% of my hearing in my in left ear due to my service time and forgot to put in my hearing aid because I was so concerned about your lives is my excuse."

"And our excuse? After you took out the inside guard and incapacitated the interrogator you emptied the inside guard’s assault weapon magazine on the outside guard as he rushed into the building, then wasted the two inside agents and finally succumbed to the dart’s serum and collapsed, hitting the cement floor pretty concussion causing hard and we were so busy concerning ourselves with saving your smartass a*s to think about grabbing the guy’s weapon," Hank bitterly admitted.

"So I guess that makes us even and I can finally get some honest answers, huh."

"My friend, we had our own serious questions about you. like the training you had to so quickly, so easily, even with your mind supposedly drugged, to do what you did. And we didn’t know if you were one of us or one of them trying to win our confidence, "Julie reasoned. "So can you really blame us for still being a bit cautious?"

"You thought I would kill three of my own to get on your good side?"

"They’ve used worst tactics than that so can you blame us for not understanding how someone like you could - "

"Special forces trained, two war tours and eleven years in service before I resigned to take care of my very sick wife. These days I’m just a retired electrician who reads too many suspense novels and watches too many spy movies."

"Since we’re all being as honest as we can, how did you manage to find us to rescue us if you’re not an agent, not working with some agency?"

"Pure accident. I was on the Interstate heading back home to Texas after visiting my wife’s grave and became too sleepy to safely drive and noticed the turnoff sign for this county road and - "

"Which county road in which state?"

"You two really weren’t cut out to be spies, were you?" the Hero teased them, but without the sarcasm. "I don’t know which country because I stay on the Interstate mostly, but we’re in the western part of Tennessee, not that far from the state’s boarder."

"Tennessee?"

"Where were you two kidnaped? Near D.C.? Yeah, yeah, I don’t have that need to know, do I?

"Nope. But please continue because all the details you can remember will help us."

"So anyway, I was about three miles from the turnoff and saw a several buildings that looked deserted and just before the last one, that galvanized steel one you were taken to, I saw several rusted, likely ditched cars, parked on the shoulder across the road and decided it was a safe enough place to catch a few hours of sleep. I shut off the engine and lights and was about to doze off when bright headlights showed up on the road coming from the Interstate. They were from a dark, large SUV and I thought it odd when they pulled in front of that galvanized steel storage building. With the bright lights still on I watched four men grab and carry what looked like two bodies into the building through the wide front door."

"Us, of course, and then?"

"I waited and watched and was surprised when lights came on inside the building because I figured it was a no longer used state highway maintenance building. Now I’m sure they cased the place out first and set up a portable generator before carting you out here to the boondocks. And I waited and after perhaps fifteen minutes one of the guys came outside, closed the building’s front door and drove off in that SUV."

"And we’re worn out, exhausted, from countless hours laying in the back of one vehicle, them another," Hank clarified, then added with humor, "And finish your story before you start trying to calculate how far and from where we were transported."

"Because everyone is being honest now we’re beyond that," the Hero chuckled, then continued, "and after that one guy had driven off I snuck up to a side window to peer inside and saw you two squatting on the floor, a guy holding an assault rifle on you and another guy standing at a makeshift table with syringes and small bottles on it. I didn’t see the third guy but figured him to be near the wall with the window I was looking through."

"Must have been when you were carefully approaching the side of the building that the third guy went out the back door to act as perimeter guard," Julie guessed rightly.

"And that would explain why I heard a popping sound, like a toy cap gun, and then felt this sharp pain in my side."

"Like the sound of a tranquilizer gun with a dart being shot?" Hank nodded.

"Likely not just a typical tranquilizer, but their own version, because that guard knew you had to be interrogated," Julie theorized, perhaps from training she had received.

"I remember suddenly getting very dizzy, being dragged and brought into the building, but by then my body started feeling like putty, my head hurt like hell, my vision was blurred and my legs didn’t want to hold me up and after that I can’t remember squat and can’t imagine doing what you claim I did to those agents. That’s why I had trouble accepting your account."

"I’m hardly a qualified shrink but I know enough to know some people have such an ingrained survival instinct that they react sub-consciencely," Julie spoke from her perspective.

"And what really amazed me and made me think you were one of us sent to save us was how you just seemed to know to take out the inside armed guy by surprise first," Hank offered sincerely.

"I wouldn’t know about all that because I really don’t remember, but I have figured out your role in all this."

"Even if you think you got us right you need to assume you’re wrong," Julie strongly hinted.

"Why? We’ve all got our jobs to do. Are you embarrassed that you’re desk jockeys or lab rats? Not likely lab rats but certainly desk jockeys, the type who either decipher intercepted foreign intelligence or analyze already intercepted data, or both."

"You’re not just a retired electrician, are you?" Julie shot back.

"I was in a certain line of work, fully legal, for awhile but with a signed confidentiality thing and you don’t have that need to know, as you would - "

The rest of the snide remark was canceled by the bright lights and of a dark SUV coming into view, followed quickly by a second one, speeding down the county road.

"We caught a well deserved luck break," Julie sighed in relief as they watched the SUVs wiz by, then asked the Hero, "and you knew they would do that, didn’t you?"

"Just a hunch from watching all those cat and mouse movies."

‘You're so full of s**t!"

"Ease up, kiddies! They’ll back track soon enough and likely have reinforcements to aid them in recapturing and then killing us," Hank stated an obvious reminder. "Now, shut up and think because a new plan quickly conceived may yet save us."

Without waiting for their input the Hero climbed into the cab behind the steeling wheel, stuck his head out the window and told Hank to close the tailgate and both of them to join him.

"What now, super electrician?" Hank wondered after he and Julie were seated.

"Southward ho is the right way to head because we know what’s behind us but don’t know what’s ahead," the Hero remarked tongue in cheek.

"Besides being a failed electrician and not so intelligent agent are you also a failed writer wannabe?" Julie mocked him with her own sense of humor.

"Writer, failed or otherwise, you’ll never know because pseudonyms are used for a reason."

"If we get out of here alive you two deserve each other," Hank chimed in with his own version of lighthearted wit.

After driving carefully down the gravel road for fifteen minuets they came up to a six foot tall chain link gate, with an equally tall chain link fence going in both directions away from the gate. The gate itself was secured by a heavy duty chain and padlock and posted on the gate was a faded ‘No Trespassing’ sign.

As all three passengers stood on the ground they could see what looked like some kind of dated government complex behind the fence and what looked a command post, office buildings and several long, narrow barracks. To the Hero the image almost seemed like the stereotype of a long ago, but no longer used, military complex.

"Well, what now, Hero?" Julie baited him.

"One option is to ram the gate and hope the gravel road continues on the other side. Another is to ditch the truck in the bushes and scale the gate, hoping we’re bypassed in their search," the Hero suggested. "And lose the lame sarcasm."

"That might work because they’ll think that truck of your’s is just another abandoned junk heap," Julie agreed with a toned down trace of sarcasm.

"That junk heap has a two year old supercharged Ford V-6 in it."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"And, like me, it may look old on the outside but it’s inside is young."

"My friend, who’s name I won’t ask because you won’t likely give me your real name, you were right about taking this road but your options are not how we’re going to do this. We own you for saving our asses but we’re not going to endanger you again. They took our wallets and phones but didn’t get the chance to figure out who you are. So you’re safe. What Julie and I are going to do is scale this gate, with your agile help, and hide out in one of those buildings. If you really want to help us you’ll turn your truck around and drive back up that gravel road, get on the country road and then back on the Interstate," Hank ordered the Hero.

"And if I get stopped by one of them?"

"Just tell the truth, at least your edited version, which I’m sure you can do with ease. You were on the way home, got tired, stopped on that county side road to sleep, them got back on the highway and they’ll have no reason not to believe you."

"You already must know I’ll still try to help you even if I do what you say."

"I’m hardly a secret agent, nor am I some kind of country bumpkin, and I’ve already figured out a way you can safely help."

"You got an pen and something to write on," Julie asked, following Hank’s lead.

When the Hero grabbed a note pad and pen from the glove compartment and handed it to Hank he and Julie watched as Hank scribbled on the note pad.

"When you get to a phone call that number and tell them Jack and Jill fell down the hill and need help and give them our location as close as you can to the exact location," Hank instructed.

"Too bad I can’t use my cell phone that under the truck’s seat," the Hero mentioned while knowing what kind of reaction his admission would get from Julie.

"You let the battery die, didn’t you?" Julie taunted him.

"I don’t get many calls these days being that I’m a pseudonym now."

"You two love bird clowns can get a room somewhere after we’re all safe," Hank laughed. "Right now we need you to help us scale this gate."

After boosting both of them to top railing of the fence, then watching them luckily not break a bone hopping down to temporarily safety inside the complex, the Hero called to them for the last time.

"My name might have been named Daniel at one time and you guys still own me earned answers to unanswered questions."

"We could easily say the same to you, Mr. Maybe or Maybe Not Daniel," Hank told Daniel as if talking to an old friend under normal circumstances. "And often in our line of work the yet unanswered ones are better off not being answered if we want to live as long as you, gramps."

"You want to live as long as me, Hank? I suggest you seriously start taking better care of your body. And buff up so the name Hank fits you."

"I’ll consider that, you a*s," Hank cringed while giving the Hero the finger, "and, seriously, who are you?"

"My name really is David and I’m really a retired electrician with a military background and what made me really start to get cautious was that you two kept pumping me for information after the effects of that serum wore off. It was like you didn’t want to believe me and I honestly gave you all the information I was willing to give you under the circumstances that you offered me little in return."

"Fair enough. And if you were in the line of work you assume we’re in you’d understand how careful we would have to be," Julie injected as to imply the conversation was over.

The Hero, who may not be named David, nodded to say he understood and they did the same.

When they offered a friendly goodbye wave, the Hero gave them a military salute, smiled warmly, climbed into the truck’s cab, turned the truck around and headed towards the country road as Hank and Julie disappeared into the complex.

Perhaps twenty yards before he reached the county road intersection the Hero turned off the truck’s lights, shut off the engine and reached under the bench for his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

‘Sweet Bloody Mary, it’s Dangerous Dan! Is this really you?" the female voice on the receiving end mildly protested.

"Damn, Carla, don’t you ever sleep?"

"I’ve got a number of numbers on my secure phone line that will ring even if my laptop is on sleep mode," Carla answered with a sleepy voice. "And thanks for reminding me I need to remove your number from that classified list."

"Sorry to wake you but I saved two possible agents of ours while taken out three men with thick accents who were likely Russian Mafia."

"It’s too late at night for your famous prank calls."

"This is serious, boss woman. Those likely agents I saved gave me their code word names, Jack and Jill, and gave me a number to call to say Jack and Jill fell down the hill and tell the person who answered their location where they can be picked up."

"Did your sweet wife let you off the retirement leash?"

"Witty as always, but I need to know who I’m calling before I offer those two any more help. I’ve got to know they’re one of us. You got something to write that number down on?"

"Give me a break! Don’t you know I have a pornographic memory?" Carla teased him as old friends often do.

"That might explain why you’re got three ex-husbands! Now that we’ve made funny are you ready for that number?" Dan prompted her as he read the number to her.

"I know that number well, Dan, though I can’t reveal who it belongs to. So how did you get involved? As part of a new retirement hobby? Or did you not retire and let me believe you did?"

"Funny, but it was just pure luck. I was on the Interstate and got tired, so I took the off ramp to a county road to catch some shuteye and noticed four dudes carrying those two agents into a deserted building."

"Okay, but now I've got a few questions. One, how sure are you they were Russian Mafia? And if they were do you think our guys gave them any vital information?"

"The accents certainly suggest they were Russian. If not Mafia then they were still Russian. As to our guys I'm pretty sure I got there before those agents started in with the torture."

"Sounds like you did and now I'm wondering if you let yourself get captured on purpose to save our hapless agents?"

"God, woman! Do I really have that king of reputation?" he laughed in mock disbelief.

"Reality or not, that's the legion that surrounds you and, for old time’s sake I will confirm they’re one of us, though a different agency, the kind that doesn’t like to cooperate unless forced to give up their information and that group is not nearly as adventurous as we are. And can you blame them for being cautious with the president we're stuck with?" she laughed, then wondered, "So, how’s the wife and kids and future grand-kids?"

"Joanie’s fine and sometimes asks how you’re doing and both kids are in college and I better not see any grandchildren until both have their degrees, a steady job and, for Janie a stable spouse, for James likewise."

"Spoken like a true father. And you know we miss you around here, right?"

"You know me. I tend to trust my gut instincts and my gut was telling me to retire before my luck quota ran out."

"Understandable. So make the call, save those two a*s holes again get some needed sleep and don’t worry about them anymore because I doubt if those smug clowns would accept our backup help anyway."

"I’ll make the call now if we’re through catching up, Carla."

"And enjoy your retirement, and tell Joanie I’ve just remarried number two. What can I say? I’m not that old yet and still get an itch and Harry’s good in the sack," she chuckled, then added," You're not required to do so, you being semi-retired, but when you have the time can you type up a report so we can keep it of file?"

"If I still remember how to type I'll get to the report soon. Do you still have the same secure email?"

"Until I remove your name, which will be as soon as I get the report," she laughed, then hung up.

Daniel called the secure line number, used the code the agents give him and provided their location, then he shut off his phone. He did intend to catch a few hours sleep though it hardly going to be on this county road, but he still had enough of an adrenaline energy rush to head back to the Interstate and wait until he found an off ramp with a well lighted rest stop.

After starting the engine, turning the radio to a classical music station and pulling the truck onto the county road he thought about Julie’s / Jill’s snotty remark about him also being a failed wannabe writer and laughed at the irony because Daniel had seriously considered trying to write fiction to fill in some of his retirement time. With both kids away at school and Joanie still teaching English Lit classes in the evenings he certainly had the time, and he already knew, when he did start making the effort, the one thing he would not do is write anything inspired by his military or professional life because he had no desire to relive that part of the past.

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register

Reviews

Willys Watson

Over the years I’ve written a lot of verse, short stories, several plays and a screenplay, most of which were based on personal experiences. But this one, The Yet Answered Ones, is my first attempt to write a mystery / suspense theme type story. So, any advice or suggestions from any of you is certainly welcome.