Chapter VII

t was two days before William awoke.  He had temporarily been placed under a medical coma to keep him still while the leg had time to heal the damaged artery caused by the shrapnel from the grenade.

After studying how the grenades had rolled before exploding, it was found the explosive tossed into Williams room had rolled partially around the box spring and mattress behind which he had taken refuge.

That he didn't lose his feet, or, taken any other shrapnel was a miracle in itself.  He could just as easily been mangled or blown to bits by the blast.  There was no denying it: God once again protected William.

And, He had protected Sharon as well.  A box spring and mattress is certainly not recommended to hide behind, but, when it's all you have, then by all means, use it!  As it was, both still suffered injury to their hearing.

What had been a simple investigation for some information on a bombing in the city of Stillwell Creek Township turned up not only the bomber, the location of his hideout and workshop, but some information on a couple of other bombings.

One in particular was of a building that blew up and burned within a month of offer to purchase.  The investigation of the questionable fire brought about questions on other fires of questionable origin.

Two were especially suspicious, and someone had died in an old warehouse which was in dispute for its location on the wharf.  It seems a contractor by the name of Greg Wheaton had made the offer, but when the owner refused the offer, he was threatened.

Then, within a month, the place burned.  The Real Estate was purchased at a much lower cost and a new steel building erected in which a new fish processing plant was built.  Being highly automated, it put two other mom 'n pop businesses out, effectively helping to drive down the incomes of several small fisherman and their boats.  More can be read about this in "Death Vengeance."

But suddenly, Greg Wheaton had died, and the talk that it was result of some of his dirty dealings and the beating several old timers out of their life's savings.  But the fact of the matter was, the arson fires stopped for over four years.  This was quite a change, especially since the little volunteer fire department was used to seeing a fire of questionable origin at least three or four times per year.

And each happened while Greg Wheaton was out of town.  This in itself would be no big deal normally, but when considering the coincidence of them and when Greg's connections were added into the equation, one soon learned that things were not adding up on a positive note for him.

But there were other things that William learned while talking to Randal before he was killed in the shootout.  He bragged about an unfortunate accident for the Linkhams, Clyde and Sara, and then the brag that Kelly had outdone herself with the "pesky daughter," Leane Linkham.

Although she lived at in the dorms at college and was away most of the time, she believed the accident and fire in which her parents died was no "accident."  When she rattled the cage of the police department of Stillwell Creek Township, she was warned to let the police handle the investigation.

The problem with that, was the investigation was at a very obvious standstill, and essentially, had been shelved.  When mentioned to any of the police officers on duty, she was met with sarcasm and a smirk.  She had been arrested once for trespassing onto private property while trying to get some samples to send off to Hornkhol Laboratories in Bakersfield, CA.  The judge let her off as being torn up over her parents, but she still wouldn't let matters lie.

The evening of her death, her car went into a skid on a slight curve, certainly not enough of a curve to roll a car.  But a tire blew just at the right time, the car rolled landing on it's top.  The gas leaking out onto the tailpipe caught fire.  That was how the report read.  Leane burned to death in that car, no doubt as a result from all the snooping around she was doing.

It was very convenient for the Bachmans and they moved right in to the Linkhams home . . . which was next door to one William Travis.

William was just in from Las Vegas where he'd had his plane nearly blown out of the sky, and had been forced to do an emergency landing, then a take off where it didn't seem possible.  Even after his ordeal and near death on more than one occasion in the trip, he was still being watched.

Even though Williams ordeal and court proceedings with the original Crawley Caper Case, his being almost killed in Las Vegas had been an awful lot for one man to survive, he received more than one benefit.  His introduction to a couple of FBI agents which resulted in his own invitation to join the ranks of the FBI seemed just almost too good to be true.

Because of his connection with the governmental agency his house was swept for bugs . . . the electronic type . . . the type that spies used.  It turns out there were several, and one camera trained on the kitchen table where most of the talks take place in the households of America.  But those of a sensitive nature to the FBI were what was wanted.

William studied about this for a time and was never able to figure out just who would go so far as to bug his house.  Certainly not the small fry from around here.  He got his answer at the shootout where Agent Bucy died as well as the Russian spy, Randal Bachman.  William made a note to himself on his cellphone to look into the real name of Randal Bachman.  He then remembered Kelly's complete run of the house for days on end.

All this was quite a bit of information to digest and assimilate.  It was even a bigger puzzle to put together, but the perspective allowed William to get the whole picture.

When William came out of the coma, who could be sitting there but the love of his life, Sharon Travis.  Her parents had flown out, as well as his own parents, and were not in the room at the time.  He tried to sit up and soon learned that the pain was too great, but, also that he was restrained in the bed, and still had way too many tubes coming out of his body to be moving as of yet.

But nothing was going to stop him from getting a kiss from the sweetest woman alive, and so Sharon leaned over and laid a big one on him, and he smiled weakly, and fell asleep.

The tears of thankfulness swelled down Sharon's cheeks as she dialed their parents with the good news.  Soon the capacity of the room was filled and overflowing with wishers to see him; some had to be run out.  But when William awoke again, he wasn't hungry, didn't really want to see anyone, but still, was cordial and friendly.  What he wanted was answers, and lots of them.

Even Sharon's scold did little to deter him from his mission.  His question that his entire being was stuck on?  What had he went back for?  It was the question asked in the raspy put-on voice of Randal Bachman, and it haunted him.  It was in his every waking thought.  The thought that something in that house was of great importance, perhaps even to national security, and it bothered him so badly, that he requested a visit from the Captain.

"Captain" was a handle used to identify Ventura County FBI Agent Tracy Blaine, veteran of over forty years with the FBI, and now commandant over the County.  A man William trusted and respected greatly, one who could be depended on, and who had helped William and Sharon both in many issues and situations in their time as agents.

Captain Tracy Blaine, respecting the Drs. wishes, refrained from the visit for two days, but changed his mind when he received the call from William himself.  "Sir, I think it is a matter of grave importance that we look into matters at that house.  Something is certainly not right at that house, and although I can't place what it is, I believe if we don't figure it out soon, dire consequences will be the result."

"William, you've had a bad injury, one that will affect you for quite a while, you've suffered blood loss, and you're stuck here in the hospital worrying about something which we have already looked into," Tracy said quietly.

After a pause, he continued.  "We went over that place with a fine toothed comb when we were out there, and we found nothing outside an arsenal of small repute, a few remote control fuses and some small cans of reloading powder for guns.  Certainly not anything illegal," he finished.

William knew he was getting nowhere with the Captain, so he quietly changed the subject.  He knew what he had to do the first chance he got.  Then his attention was captured by the sounds of someone making a ruckus down the hall.  He mentioned it to the nurse after the Captain had left and the nurse stated "it's that lady who came in the same day you came in.  She's under armed guard and is shackled to her bed.  She will be released into the custody of the Sheriffs office tomorrow.

"I must talk to her.  It's very important!" he pleaded

"I'm sorry, but that is just not possible," responded the nurse in the nasal business voice of excusing someone, and promptly walked out even though William was still talking.  How rude!" Will thought to himself.

Sharon returned from lunch with their parents.  She had left when Tracy Blaine had come into the room.  After lunch their parents had returned to the room for one last visit, then were headed home.  All were overjoyed to see William alert and wanting to go back to work so quickly!  Of course each had their own way of saying 'you need to recuperate for a while.'

But William patiently tolerated their well wishes, and donkey grinned for all the pictures and goodbyes.  When they had all taken their leave, Sharon was all over him like ugly on an ape!  "You were quite rude and made them all want to get out of here.  I was wanting to visit with them for a few more hours.  William Travis, what in the world is wrong with you?"

Now he had done it!  She was crying softly in the corner.  "Honey, I am so sorry, please, please forgive me.  But there's something big being overlooked out there at the Russian villa where Bucy died.  Something is very wrong out there, something very dangerous and sinister is in the works.  I don't know how I know, I just know it.  Kelly Bachman is in a room down the hall.  Will you go talk to her?  Try to befriend her, or, what ever you have to do, get as much info out of her as you can." William pleaded softly.

Sharon knew when William took that tone of voice, something was really up.  She changed her entire outlook on the situation.  She quickly picked up her purse, checked her XD to see if it was loaded and handy, and walked casually down the hall toward Kelly's room.  She didn't knock, didn't ask permission.  She just flashed her badge at the Security Officer at the door and walked in.

Kelly appeared to be asleep, and didn't look like she was hurt too badly.  Her arm was bandaged heavily, but she should be thankful that the shot snapped at her hadn't been less rushed.  Had the shot been less hasty, it probably would have hit her in the chest or the head.  As it was, she would regain full use of her arm.

Sharon did a quick scan at the shackels to make sure she was secure, then looked up and into the brazen eyes now open and staring back at her.  She hadn't seen when those eyes came open, and was observed looking at the womans shackles.  "Hello," she said lightly, then continued.  "I wish I could say it's good to see you weren't hurt any worse than you are."

The anger in the voice that responded belied her Russian background, and the heavy brogue spilled out in quick succession.  "You Americans are pigs.  You will be defeated!" she spat in crescendo and quite loudly.

The guard looked around the corner of the door frame to see what was going on.  All he saw was Sharon standing there smiling at him, and the hateful look of the woman on the bed.  "Wow," he thought.  "How could anyone that gorgeous be so ill intent toward another gorgeous woman like Mrs. Travis?"  He shook his head and sat back down.

Just then, another beautiful woman walked up to the guard, flashed a badge and walked in without permission.  Melinda had stopped by Williams room and had talked to him shortly, then sensing the intense fear in his voice and eyes, decided to help Sharon see what they could learn.  She was met with a vicious outburst from Kelly, then quietly shut the door behind her as she stepped outside.  Within a second or two, she stepped back in and shut the door behind her again.

She never acknowlged Kelly, and placed a chair under the knob of the door, gave it a kick to wedge it securely, then turned around with a look on her face that was almost scary.  "I'm only going to ask you each question just once, and if I don't think you are being straight with me, I'm going to increase the pain in your arm till you pass out.  Do you understand?"

Sharon did not know Melinda was capable of such actions, but decided she would play the part, and reached up and grabbed the bandaged arm, and gave it a squeeze for good measure.  Kelly winced in pain, but refused to cry out.  Melinda walked over to the bed and bent over Kelly.  What was Randals real name?"

No response.  Sharon squeezed the arm again and Kelly stiffened with the pain.  Still no response.  Sharon reached into her purse and pulled out her .45.  She raised it up holding it by the hand grip, and brought it down heavily on the bandaged arm.  Kelly spit out the name, "Taras Dvorkin."

Melinda knew from her studies that the name Taras was an Old Greek word meaning mutineer, rebel.  The name fit.  She then played on a hunch, and asked what was the package we found in the house to be used for?"

Kellys eyes opened wide and she said "you found it?"  She paused and leaned back into the pillow, huge tears ran down her face.  "I have failed the mother land.  I am not worthy to live."

"Aw cut the sob story crap" Melinda said haughtily.  "You're a couple of steps from being thrown into the electric chair.  First, you're a spy, for that we usually hang you.  Then you've blown up several institutions, and one killing with an explosion to her car, then you shot and killed a California Highway Patrol Officer, attempted to assassinate two FBI Agents with grendades, one who is in the hospital near death two rooms from you and is itching to get his pistol sights on you, then you attempted to shoot Agent Sharon Travis, who is right beside you right now . . ." her voice trailed off as Sharon broke in.

"And I don't feel too kindly toward you right now.  The Security guard is under orders to shoot anyone who attempts to come into this room, no matter what sounds come from it.  I don't know what you think, Melinda, but I think she needs to feel some pain before we put her out of our misery."  With that, she whacked the bandaged arm again, Kelly stiffened out, but made no sound.  Her face now turned to pure hate.

"So, you American pigs think you found it all?  You'll never find it all.  It is too well hidden!" She spat at both Agents standing there.

"Well, we came in to reason with her and offer her a deal, but she doesn't seem too interested," Sharon said to Melinda, then added.  I hope she understands what happens to spies in the American prison system."  At that, she turned to go and Melinda walked around the bed toward the door.

"Yeah," she agreed with Sharon.  She sure could have saved herself some agony and years in the pen.  She'll likely lose some of that purty within the system if she doesn't get some real help."

As Melinda removed the chair from under the door handle and set it back over in the corner, Kelly blurted out.  "Wait, what kind of help are you talking about?  Can I sure enough get a deal if I co-operate?"

Sharon and Melinda both turned around and looked at her for a second, saw the bandage was oozing blood at a good rate, then Melinda bluntly and sarcasticly, "Nah . . .  You don't have anything to offer us."  Both then turned and started toward the door.  As they scooted the chair away from the door, Kelly said "I've got a lot to tell you, but only you."

After a short pause she began again.  "Did you know there is a double agent within your office?  And that his post is higher up than you would ever imagine?  And, I have more!"

"Melinda scooted the chair back under the door, pulled a recorder from her purse, and said "OK lady.  Prove it."

Within an hour, they knew more than they would have ever believed possible, and what William was after when he went back to the house . . .

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