"It turned out good don’t you think that Frank can fly down here and pick us up in Charlottesville?" Jonathan said as he turned the car on to the rural road leading to the small airport.
"I don’t know, I kind of like the drive."
"Well the sooner we get home, the sooner we can get this mystery solved and on to the really important things."
"Like what?" Jennifer said turning to look at Jonathan.
"Like our anniversary."
Jennifer smiled. "Do you have something planned?"
"Besides the obvious?" Jonathan’s eyes were twinkling.
"The obvious would be enough."
"Then, I guess it will be a surprise."
Jonathan and Jennifer entered the airport and headed towards the area designated for private planes.
"I don’t see Frank," Jennifer said.
"I don’t either."
"Excuse me?" A stocky man approached them. "Are you Mr. Jonathan Hart?"
"Yes."
"This is a message for you." The man handed Jonathan the note.
"There’s a problem with the plane," Jonathan said after reading the note. "Where’s a phone I can use?" Jonathan asked the man.
"You can use the one in our office." The man began to lead the way. "I know they’re expecting your call."
Jonathan’s hackles raised. It must be serious if the airport is going to let him make a long distance call on their dime.
"This is Jonathan Hart. I’m calling in regards to Frank Lasslow and my plane."
"Yes, Mr. Hart," the woman on the other line started.
"Mr. Hart?" This time the voice was deep, a man.
"Yes."
"I’m Inspector Gills with the FFA."
"FFA?" Jonathan turned to Jennifer with a baffled look on his face.
"Yes, there was an incident regarding your plane this afternoon."
"Is my pil…."
"No your plane is quite damaged."
"I was asking about my pilot."
"Oh, yes of course. Mr. Lasslow is fine. He had some smoke inhalation but that’s it. Very lucky actually."
"Inspector Gills what happened?"
"We aren’t sure yet but we would like to talk to you. Can you find another flight up here?"
"We can drive and be there in 2 hours."
"Good, we’ll see you then."
"Mr. Hart." Frank said as Jonathan and Jennifer entered the Dulles Airport offices.
"Frank, are you okay?" Jonathan looked to Frank and then all the men in dark suits.
"Yes, fortunately."
"What happened?" Jennifer asked sitting next to Frank.
One of the dark suited men approached. "Mr. Hart. I am glad you are here. We would like to ask you a few questions."
"I’d like to know what happened first." Jonathan turned to Frank.
"It all started routine. I checked the plane. Got my two cups of coffee and bag of M&M’s and then headed out. As I got close to lift off, there was a loud bang. I quickly tried to lower and stop the plane. The smoke filled the cabin really fast but fortunately she stopped in time for me to escape."
"What do you think it was?" Jonathan asked.
"I don’t know." Frank looked at the men in suits. "By the time the fire was out and I was seen by a medical person, these men were here. I haven’t been able to check the plane."
"That’s standard Mr. Hart. We take plane accidents very seriously. I’m sure you understand."
"I take it you’re Inspector Gills?"
"That is correct." Inspector Gills held out his hand. Jonathan tentatively took it.
"How did you get here so fast?" Jonathan asked.
"That’s what we do. Particularly at Washington Dulles International Airport."
Jonathan nodded his head in understanding. Lots of important people, politicians, used the airport. Security was probably tighter here than any other airport.
"Can you tell us what happened, Inspector?" Jennifer asked.
"Not at this point. My men are still going over the craft. But maybe you can tell us if you have had any problems with plane?"
"No. Frank here could tell you better, but there haven’t been any incidences."
"The plane checked out before I left," Frank said flatly as if he’d said it a hundred times.
"We’d like a copy of all the service and inspection records," Inspector Gills said ignoring Frank.
"I’ll make sure you get them." Jonathan began to have a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I just need to make a couple of calls."
"Good. And please let us know where you’ll be in case we have any more questions."
"I think we’ll be in Washington for tonight but we’ll be heading home as soon as we can book a flight."
"I can do that now," Jennifer said standing up. "Frank, shall I get you a seat too?"
"Actually, I’d like to stay with the plane."
"That’s fine," Jonathan said. He was glad Frank would stay. He was better than anyone to decipher any information about the plane. "We can send a Hart Industries plane down from New York when you are ready."
Jennifer watched Jonathan as he fidgeted in his seat, tapped his hands on his thighs and looked eagerly out the window of the plane the next day. She had never seen him so nervous and tense. She was surprised he had the energy considering all the tossing and turning he’d done the night before.
"Darling," she said softly reaching to take his hand.
He looked over at her. "What?"
She laughed. "You’re making me nervous."
He managed a smile. "Sorry. I guess I am a little tense."
"A little?"
"Excuse me a minute," he said getting up out of his seat.
Jennifer let him pass. "Where are you going?"
"Rest room."
In the rest room, Jonathan looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t figure out why he felt so agitated. There was no indication that the plane had been tampered with. But he trusted Frank and Frank said the plane checked out. Jonathan shuddered at the thought of he, Jennifer and Frank being in a plane crash. This case was really giving him the eebbie jeebies. Yet, it wasn’t the first time he and Jennifer had been embroiled in a murder mystery. Yeah, but that always involved two-bit crooks… not the experience of government intelligence. For the first time, in a long time, Jonathan feared he was out of his league. Worse yet, he and Jennifer were in too deep. Even if they backed off now, he was sure they knew more than they should.
He splashed some water on his face and looked again. Shaking off the unsettling feelings so he could appear composed for Jennifer, he opened the door.
"Hey handsome," Jennifer said as she stood outside the bathroom.
Jonathan gave her a quizzical look as she pressed her hand to his chest and pushed him back into the bathroom. "What are you doing?"
"You’re way too tense. I’m going to fix that." Jennifer crammed her way into the bathroom. Maneuvering the door shut, she locked it, engaging the light. The space was cramped, with no room to move around. She smiled up at him as she pressed her body to his and began to undo his tie.
"It’s a little tight, don’t you think?" He said, the tension momentarily replaced by amusement.
"I thought you liked tight places." Jennifer unbuttoned his shirt, splaying kisses on his chest.
"And here I thought I was on the no-frills flight." Jonathan unbuttoned the top portion of her dress.
"Not at all, Mr. Hart. This is the Seduction 747 and I’m your pilot." Jennifer fumbled with Jonathan’s belt and pants until they fell around his knees.
"I am beginning to feel and increase in cabin pressure." He whispered as he pulled her dress off her shoulders and softly scattered kisses from one shoulder to the other.
"I can help with that." Her graceful hands slid around his growing desire.
Despite the distraction from Jennifer’s expert hands, Jonathan finished unbuttoning the rest of her dress. "Did you plan this?" Jonathan whispered in Jennifer’s ear as he realized that her dress, which buttoned all the way to the end, was perfect for undressing in cramped places. Jennifer just smiled. Jonathan removed her dress, hanging it on the coat hanger and quickly followed it with her bra.
Jonathan moved his hands to cup her breasts, his thumbs gently flicking and rubbing until Jennifer moaned from their throbbing tenderness. He kissed her neck and jaw as he pushed her satin lace panties down and slid his hand between the warm wetness of her thighs.
Jennifer’s head dropped back as his fingers massaged her to the verge of oblivion. Then she cried out as Jonathan’s expert fingers delved into her aching desire. He could feel her shudder as the waves of pleasure tumbled through her.
"Hey, I’m the pilot here," she said as she regained her bearings in the world.
"Well, hurry up because I’m about ready to come in for a landing."
Jennifer sat her buttocks on the edge of the basin and wrapped her arms and legs and around him. "I’m in an upright and locked position."
Jonathan couldn’t help the feeling of love and gratitude that permeated his soul. While the bathroom of an airplane wasn’t the most romantic or comfortable of places to make love, it certainly showed Jennifer’s adventurous and daring spirit that made life with her such a thrill. Placing his hands on her cheeks, he pulled her lips to his, letting her taste his passion for her.
Jennifer smiled up at him as their lips parted. She mouthed the words ‘I love you’ then, leaning back with a feral smile and raised eyebrows she invited him to join her.
Planting his hands against the mirror behind her, Jonathan let Jennifer guide him into her. He gave her one last kiss before allowing his instincts to take over. He rocked back and forth in quick long strokes and gave one final releasing thrust as Jennifer’s body convulsed around his.
"Well," he said as he caught his breath. "That does take the edge off."
"Welcome home Mr. and Mrs. H." Max said when he picked them up at the airport.
"Good to be home Max. Good to be home." Jonathan replied.
"Sure is terrible what happened to the plane. Lucky thing you and Mrs. H. weren’t on it."
"I don’t even want to think about that." Jennifer shivered at the thought.
"Max, any calls while we were gone?"
"Frank called just before I left to come get you." Max put the suitcases in the trunk of the Bentley. "He said he wasn’t sure what the FFA people were going to tell you but he is sure someone tampered with the plane."
"Tampered? But why?" Jennifer asked as she got in the back of the car.
"That he didn’t know. But he said that he got a look at the plane and that you could tell the explosion didn’t come from anything inside the plane."
"He thinks someone stuck some sort of explosive on the outside of the plane?" Jonathan asked as he pushed the seat back and climbed in.
"Yep."
"That makes sense. He checked the plane before leaving. The plane was alone for 10 minutes while he got his coffee and candy." Jonathan thought aloud.
"That would be time for someone to plant something," Jennifer added.
"Not enough time to get in the plane but certainly enough to a walk by and place something on the outside." Jonathan added.
"That still doesn’t answer the question of why?" Jennifer said.
"I’ll give you one guess."
"Armageddon?"
Max started the car and pulled out from the curb to head home.
"Mr. H., Stanley called with some information on old man Fitzmeyer." Max said as he merged into traffic.
"What’s that Max?"
"He says old man Fitzmeyer was a powerful guy. After the war, he was one of the key players in the red scare craze. He turned in a lot of people. He and McCarthy were good buddies. But when that all ended, he sort of lost credibility so he retired quietly."
Jonathan sat up. "Fitzmeyer was involved in all those communist accusations?"
"Yep, according to Stanley, Fitzmeyer was obsessed with the whole thing. He wanted to rid the country of all Russians. He was quoted as saying he thought we should nuke ‘em in a pro-active move."
Jonathan turned in his seat to look back at Jennifer. "Are you thinking what I’m thinking?"
"Fitzmeyer ordered the killing of all those Russians."
"Exactly."
"Jonathan. Do you remember what Charles’ letter to Rostov said? Something about the enemy becoming our ally and our ally being our enemy?"
"So Fitzmeyer became the enemy while Rostov became the ally. I wonder if Rostov and the Valentines were enlisting the help of Russians in the community." Jonathan asked.
Jennifer shrugged. "But what about Rostov and our house. Fitzmeyer is too old and senile to pull that off."
"Well, Jake did say that this was something the government would be motivated to keep quiet." Jonathan remembered.
"I don’t like the sound of that." Jennifer said.
"You know Mr. and Mrs. H, if you now something the government doesn’t want you to know, that would make you an enemy of the state."
"Oh, now I feel much better." Jennifer said weary from the strain.
"Don’t worry darling," Jonathan said looking back at her. "Tonight we’ll go out, have a good time, and clean up this mess."
"I don’t know if I like the sound of that either."
"You did get the invitations didn’t you Max?"
"Right here, Mr. H." Max handed the gold embossed envelope to Jonathan.
"Look darling, we’re cordially invited to a party at the Fitzmeyer Mansion."
Jennifer forced a smile although she was beginning understand why Jonathan had been so nervous earlier.
"Jonathan? What do you hope to gain by crashing Senator Fitzmeyer’s party?" Jennifer asked as they drove through the wrought iron gates of the Fitzmeyer estate.
"First of all, I’m not crashing, we were invited…" Jennifer rolled her eyes knowing full well he finagled the invitation from someone. "Second, everything we have learned so far has brought us here."
"Yes but Fitzmeyer didn’t even know the Valentine’s had a son. If you remember, that is what started us on this road, finding out if they were your parents. Not if they were spies."
"Do you want to hear my theory?"
"I don’t know."
"Come on, let me tell you my theory." Jonathan set the gearshift to park and turned to her.
"Well, if it will make you feel better."
"I think a renegade in the Armageddon team killed a whole group of Russian Americans. And, I think Rostov, the Valentines and even the kid who took a dive off the Golden Gate knew about it and were eliminated…."
"And you think old man Fitzmeyer did that?"
"That’s my guess but even if he didn’t do it, I bet he knows who did. Perhaps he covered up for the renegade because he hated the Russians."
"But what about Rostov’s murder and our house. He couldn’t have done that."
"I don’t know. But I think the next step is here."
"Let’s just hope it’s not our last step." Jennifer said.
"Mr. and Mrs. Hart." Senator Fitzmeyer greeted them with typical political saccharine sweetness. "Thank you so much for coming."
"We appreciate the invitation," Jonathan said shaking hands with the Senator.
"I wasn’t sure you would make it. I heard you were out of town."
"Ah yes, I have been working on a story that has taken me all over the country," Jennifer said.
"I went a long for the ride." Jonathan said his eyes wide with amusement and innuendo.
"Jonathan!" Jennifer chastised under her breath.
"Actually Senator…" Jonathan started.
"Oh please, call me David."
"David. Your father has come up in the course of Jennifer’s article."
"Really? What’s your article on? The challenges of caring for elderly parents."
"No…"
"This had to do with his service the country." Jonathan watched the Senator carefully for any sign of knowledge.
"Oh, my father the ‘G’ man. Perhaps you could share some tidbits. He could never talk about his work when I was growing up. Well, he could but then he’d have to kill me." Senator Fitzmeyer let out a great laugh. Jennifer and Jonathan joined in out of courtesy
"How about now?" Jennifer asked.
"I guess if I had the patience to listen to him ramble on I’d hear some interesting stories. He spends a great deal of time in the 1940’s."
"Oh, I’m sorry."
Senator Fitzmeyer shrugged. "It’s life. And he’s had a good one."
"Does he stay here with you?" Jonathan asked.
"I set him up with a private room in the house and have a fulltime nurse for him. I just couldn’t send him to a home and fortunately I have the means to care for him here. I’m sure you will do the same for your parents."
"I don’t have parents," Jonathan reported flatly.
"Oh, yes. I had heard that. I’m sorry."
"It’s alright. I’ve had my whole life to adjust to it."
Jennifer looked at Jonathan stunned at his directness. "My father, fortunately, is in good health," she said.
"I’m pleased to hear that." Another guest caught Senator Fitzmeyer’s eye. "If you will excuse me a minute, I see some other guests I haven’t greeted yet."
"Jonathan!" Jennifer exclaimed under her breath. "What’s with you?"
"Everyone knows my parents are dead. I’m known because of my rags to riches life. I would just be another rich fat cat if it weren’t for the fact that I was an orphan."
"So he has bad taste. You usually ignore that in people."
"How did he know we were out of town?" Jonathan said pulling Jennifer to a corner.
Jennifer shrugged. "Maybe was trying to find out how we got an invitation since we aren’t a member of his political party."
Jonathan brushed it off. "Come on, let’s find old man Fitzmeyer."
"You’re kidding right?"
"No, come on."
"Jonathan, even if we do find him, you heard the Senator. He’s senile."
"But he spends a lot of time in the 1940’s." Jonathan took Jennifer’s hand and dragged her out of the main room and up the stairs. Jennifer knew there was no stopping him so she joined him.
"He’s not here," Jonathan said as his eyes searched and re-searched the hallway for a door they may not have tried.
"Maybe the Senator sent him away for the evening so he wouldn’t get disturbed."
"Or because we were coming."
"Jonathan, you are starting to sound paranoid."
"Come on." Jonathan took Jennifer’s hand again and led her back up the hall.
"We checked every door. He’s not here." Jennifer was growing weary and the jetlag wasn’t helping.
"We didn’t check the attic."
"The attic?"
"What better place to set up a private room?"
Jennifer gave in to Jonathan and followed him to the door that had lead to the attic.
"What’d I tell you," Jonathan said as they ascended the stairs. The access hallway had been finished off and a door with a ‘do not disturb’ sign stood at the top. "Mr. Fitzmeyer?"
"Maybe he’s sleeping." Jennifer hoped.
"We’ve come this far." Jonathan tried the door but it was locked. "Do you have pin or something?"
Jennifer rolled her eyes but looked in her purse for a pin. "How about a paper clip?"
"That’ll work." Jonathan straightened the paper clip and then inserted it in the door lock. After poking around a bit, it released the lock.
"Mr. Fitzmeyer?" Jonathan called again as he and Jennifer entered the room. The attic had been completely finished off. They could see a small sitting room that led to a little kitchen area. There were a couple of doors that they guessed led to a bathroom and bedroom.
"Jonathan, look at all the medical equipment." The sitting area was filled with oxygen tanks, syringes and other supplies.
"Looks like old man Fitzmeyer isn’t doing so well."
"I am doing great for a man in my condition sonny." Jonathan and Jennifer turned to see Fitzmeyer exiting the bedroom with the aid of a walker. He wore pajama bottoms and a tee shirt. His white hair stood up all over his head.
"Mr. Fitzmeyer," Jonathan said. "We’re sorry to bother you like this. I was hoping to be able to talk to you for a few minutes."
"About what?" His voice was annoyed but winded and he sat down in the closest chair he could find.
"Armageddon."
"Armageddon? Listen sonny. I’m sick but those four horsemen aren’t coming now. I’m not ready."
"You know, Jonathan." Jennifer whispered. "He doesn’t seem senile to me. Confused maybe but not senile."
"Senile? I’m not senile. I’m sick. Now get out."
Jonathan moved swiftly, almost like an eager boy and sat next to Mr. Fitzmeyer. "I want to know about Charles Valentine."
Mr. Fitzmeyer gave Jonathan a blank look.
"You were his commander in a project called Armageddon."
Mr. Fitzmeyer sat back in his chair. While his appearance seemed scattered, his eyes were clear, sharp, pointed. "How do you know about that?"
"Rostov."
"Rostov? Rostov is dead."
"Yes I know but before he died he told ..."
"Sonny, I don’t think you were born when Rostov died. He was shipped back to Russia and executed for treason in 194.... well during the war."
This time Jonathan sat back. "Uri Rostov?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Fitzmeyer, Uri Rostov was killed last week here in Los Angeles."
"That can’t be true."
"He is the one that told us about Armageddon and the Valentines."
Mr. Fitzmeyer eyed Jonathan suspiciously. "What were you told."
"You were to assess and then eliminate the threat of a Russian attack. That the project when horribly awry when one of the communities was wiped out..."
Mr. Fitzmeyer chuckled sending a chill through Jonathan and Jennifer.
"Armageddon went off fine. Got rid of those damn Russians." Jonathan looked at Jennifer and then back to Mr. Fitzmeyer.
"What about the Valentines?"
Mr. Fitzmeyer shrugged. "Intelligence. Espionage. They are dangerous games."
"So their car accident wasn’t an accident?"
"They weren’t the first to die for this great nation."
Jennifer felt her knees get weak and she found a place to sit. She was grateful that she didn’t have to face Fitzmeyer in his younger years.
"What about their son?"
"Son?" Fitzmeyer searched his mind. "There was no son. At least not that I knew about."
"What if you had?" Jennifer asked out of curiosity.
"I don’t know. Maybe I’d have taken him in. My wife had always wanted more kids."
Jonathan shuttered at the thought. It was at that moment that he realized he believed he was Charles J. Valentine Jr. Or at least he hoped he was.
"Why are you bugging me with all this. This was long ago. Every one is dead or about to be."
"Who wouldn’t want us to know about all this?" Jonathan asked ignoring Mr. Fitzmeyer’s question.
"No body would care anymore. Its over. And even if it wasn’t done right, no body would still care. I mean, we survived Nixon. We survived Vietnam. Armageddon is small peanuts and way too old compared to those two."
Jonathan realized he had inched his way forward again. Sitting back he turned to Jennifer. "I don’t get his." Jennifer shrugged. They sat quietly, Jonathan and Jennifer thinking, Mr. Fitzmeyer still trying to figure his two strange guests out.
"Does your son know about this?" Jennifer asked.
"My son? I don’t know. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me despite what he tells people. Look at me locked in the attic."
"What would he do if he knew about the extermination of American citizens?" Jennifer asked again.
"I never exterminated Americans... at least not true blue Americans. Even the Valentines weren’t American."
Jonathan looked at Jennifer. "How would people vote if they knew your father, whom you touted as being a great American, killed thousands of Americans?"
"We’ll never find out Mr. Hart." Jonathan and Jennifer turned to the doorway to see Senator Fitzmeyer and his handgun.
