Chapter 3
Lying back in an armchair, her dark hair fanned out behind her. Ninon watched the ticking hand of the wall clock and then faced the blank screen of the TV. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Ghostly images played out in her mind of several faceless, nameless people. She didn’t want to see them any more. Old memories taunted her like wispy wraiths floating around her. She closed her eyes and tried to erase them as best she could. Too many thoughts ran through her head, so she put in her earbuds and listened to 80’s music. That helped her relax.
“I’ve had enough,” she whispered to herself. “I should disappear. But where would I go?”
Bruises on her skin had turned a weird yellow and then morphed into a purplish blackening. Though in her thirties, she appeared much younger. Her emotional growth was stunted as well. She didn’t have much in the way of regular schooling.
She pulled out a Glock and touched the cold steel. Holding it gave her security, though she kept the bullets separate. After all, she never wanted to act out of fear or anger. Dark moods might tempt her.
She then told herself, “Games. I play each one as if it is a way to freedom. One surely leads to the finish line as the winner, but I can’t ever get out of this maze. I don’t think I’m supposed to.”
Too bad there was no one to listen or offer help. She held the gun to her temple. Is this the only way out?
But she had obligations. It was Friday, so she turned off her phone and set it on the coffee table. Time to disappear for a few hours. Before she could do that, a car pulled up in her driveway. Peering out the lace curtains, she didn’t recognize it. A serious-looking woman in a suit emerged from the vehicle. This couldn’t be good. It wasn’t anybody that she recognized. Ninon made sure she hid the gun by wrapping it in a shirt and shoving it under the couch.
Using her phone’s camera, Jan took pictures of the exterior of a plain-looking brick house on a quiet street. Built in the 1950’s, they looked cookie-cutter. Lacking decorations or any landscaping besides cutting the lawn, the residence lacked character or a sense of invitation. Since the home’s blinds were shut and no lights were on, she cautiously knocked on her door and then backed up a few steps. Her middle-aged partner waited in the black Suburban to monitor their interaction.
Lacking humor and much personality, Ballard nodded to her when she did a mic check with him. He also had visuals. They were good to go. He told her so.
After a few moments, a tired appearing woman cracked the door slightly, but left the chain on. Wearing a thin blue robe over a gray pajama top and matching shorts, she raised an eyebrow at the prim agent in tailored pants and matching jacket over a crisp white blouse.
“Can I help you?” she asked, immediately trying to untangle her dark waves with her hands, as if embarrassed by her unkempt appearance next to the poised stranger.
“Ninon Gage?
“Yes.”
Jan held out her badge, causing the woman’s eyes to widen in fear. That wasn’t the reaction that she expected. Obviously, she didn’t find the FBI to be the “good guys.” Usually she worked in a team of two, but Jan felt it might be best to approach her by herself, since she was already skittish and overwhelmed by the situation. She hoped less people would seem less intrusive and perhaps she’d be more apt to develop a rapport.
“I’m Special Agent Jan Martin with the FBI. I’d like to speak to you about the incident last Wednesday.”
“I already told the officers that it was a mistake. I’m not sure why that man reported an attempted kidnapping or why he assumed that it involved me. You don’t need to be here. I didn’t call you.”
“Please, Ms. Gage,” Jan insisted. “I’d like to come inside and speak with you. Might I remind you that lying to a Federal Agent is a Federal crime.”
“I’m aware of that. I’m just not interested in filling out a report and would like to forget about all of this.”
“I’d like to make sure that you and others in this area are safe,” Jan offered. “After all, you were abducted once before. Weren’t you?”
As if hit with a blow, the color drained from Ninon’s face. Her mouth parted, but she remained silent. Jan used that moment to take the upper hand.
“Yes, I know about your childhood. I’m here to help you, Ninon. And I only need a few minutes of your time. Will you give me that?”
The door slowly shut and the chain slid off before she reopened it. Standing there barefoot with pink toenails, the thin woman nervously showed her in. The living room was cramped with a large TV and over-sized furniture. Nicotine-stained curtains hung on the windows. No mementos or pictures adorned any shelves or the walls. A cold feeling passed over her as she took a seat on the dark blue couch.
Ninon perched herself on the edge of a worn recliner like a wary bird about to defend its territory if need be. She crossed her arms over her stomach and leaned forward slightly. Pensive dark pools of hopelessness observed the agent, who was too prim and proper for her liking.
“What happened to me was a long time ago. I was four or five. I don’t even remember,” Ninon confessed in a soft voice. “And I don’t think it was related to anything at the present time.”
“So can you explain to me what happened?”
“As I told the officers, I was jogging and a man in a van attempted to coerce me into his vehicle. I fought him off and got away. I think he was drunk and really didn’t know what he was doing. He called me by another name, so he mistook me for someone else. That alone told me that he didn’t even know who I was or the intended victim.”
Jan wondered if the story was rehearsed. It seemed too planned out in an emotionless tone.
“You still don’t want to file charges? He might try to do this to another woman, who might be in real danger.”
“And that would be my fault?”
“No,” Jan said, trying to soften her approach. “I didn’t mean to imply that. I’m just saying that it might deter him from harming anybody else in the near future. He deserves to be caught.”
“It was obviously just a misunderstanding, and I would really like to forget about it.”
“Okay, Ninon, but I’d like you to think about what I said,” Jan said, holding a card out to the long-haired woman, who reluctantly accepted it. “Call me if you change your mind or if I can be of assistance.”
Ninon nodded, but didn’t make eye contact. Probably lying.
“I can recommend a good therapist to deal with the trauma. It must have been terrifying…even if it was a misunderstanding.”
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
After all, it wasn’t the first time.
“Did you ever see anybody after your prior abduction? I just want you to know that you can talk to me. I can help you with resources.”
“I’d really like you to leave now,” Ninon insisted, clenching her hands and breathing harder. Her eyebrows narrowed.
Clearly, Jan hit a nerve. She nodded and headed back to her clean Bureau vehicle. This didn’t go how she had planned. Clearly, she’d need a new approach with this person.
“What now?” Ballard asked.
“Now we do more digging.”
“Let’s hunker down with some sandwiches.”
“Agreed.”
When alone, Ninon put her gun in a backpack and then headed on foot to the woods, hoping that the mosquitos weren’t biting. She left her phone this time, just in case anyone thought to track her. Hopefully, there were no witnesses this time. That agent was a thorn in her side.
Few people were out and about, so she made her way down the sidewalk through the blue-collar subdivision, passing a barred convenience store and a laundromat on the left. Two miles away, the wooded area had no trespassing signs posted, though a few beer cans near a stump said that it wasn’t heeded. She was careful to watch for snakes and foxes who came from swampier areas to this even more dismal patch. It didn’t take her long to spot the buff man with his hat on backwards.
A man with a military posture, but scruffier appearance awaited her by one of the few huge oak trees surrounded by patches of Pines. The chalk had been partially erased from the tree. He stood near it, smoking a cigarette.
“What? Not happy to see me?”
“I’ve had cops and FBI agents visit me. What do you think? It was all your fault for doing games in public.”
“I just wanted to make sure that you are ready.”
“Japan went okay. I didn’t let you down.”
“Other places are more dangerous. I don’t want you to get caught. You are older, things get harder, and I want you to stay alive for some reason.”
“I’m in my thirties, not as old as you, and I get the job done.”
“Your moves were bad choices,” he told her, “I could have gotten you into the vehicle if that guy didn’t show up. I told you before. Never let yourself get taken. You were sloppy.”
“I’ll work on it.”
“Just lie low for a while and keep your mouth shut.”
“I want more money.”
“Prove that you are worth it.”
Scoffing, Ninon said, “Then give me some space. I want to have a normal life for a while.”
“You were made for this. Think of all that you worked and sacrificed for.”
“Like you said, I’m getting too old.”
Wearing khakis and a casual shirt, Ryder put his hands on her shoulders. She turned her head away.
“I know I’ve been hard on you,” he told her, trying to be understanding. “But you’ve been successful. And maybe you will soon get something that you really want.”
“And what do I want?”
“I know where your uncle is.”
“Where?”
“Do another job for me first.”
“Don’t be playing with me. I want the address.”
“I’ll drive you there myself. Do something for me and I’ll do this for you.”
“Then I’m out.”
She heard in the past that The Finders were sometimes used to spy on businesses overseas and to report back on them. In her particular case, she was sometimes used to send information to people, but she was never told who they were or what she passed along. It was usually seen as games, so her tasks varied at times. And she was getting tired of it. At first, she found it exciting. Not anymore.
Before she left, he said, “Until further orders from me, only the Colonel and I can hypnotize you. We will use the same signal phrase ‘reeducation of infants.’”
He probably found that amusing. The Mynx Sleeper did not.
Later that day, John and Ryder met up at an oyster bar in Norfolk, had a drink and then went for a walk near the wooden pier. A few people waited at the bait and tackle shop while others dipped their toes in the water. Too many jellyfish these days to swim. Less crowded than Virginia Beach, the sandy beach here was usually lapped by gentle waves flowing in from Chesapeake Bay, but dark clouds were coming in and the weather was on the verge of getting stormy. A few seagulls flew away for cover and the wind started picking up. Tourists were debating whether to head to their hotels.
Once in a private spot on the boardwalk, John bluntly asked, “What’s up with Ninon? I assume that you are handling her since you got her out of that crazy cult.”
“Experimental utopia,” Ryder corrected him, holding his hand up to cover his eyes as the sand was being blown about. “The purpose of the games according to Marion Pettie was to ‘smoke out the unconscious.’”
“But somehow she ended up working for Intelligence in some capacity. Am I supposed to think that is a coincidence.”
“No, destiny.”
“I don’t know why I bother,” John skulked, pointing to a place for cover, up ahead. “Let’s get out of this wind.”
They jogged over to a gazebo and got some relief from the flying sand. Ryder took out a cigarette and held one out. John shook his head and popped one of his hard candies from his pocket into his mouth.
“Hey, I didn’t have anything to do with what happened back then. We both met Ninon that same day. You know I didn’t come across her again, once we looked into the custody matter, until she was in her twenties. I’m the one who pays her rent.”
John brushed sand off his suit, becoming annoyed. He’d send it to the Dry Cleaners. He then returned his attention to the man in combat boots, who awaited his response.
“That fact probably shouldn’t come out.”
“Done. What else?”
“Explain why a potential kidnapping report is on my desk right now. It caused quite a stir.”
“Bury it. There was no kidnapping.”
“We’ll easily prove that. I’ll let things die down and see what I can do about this mess.”
“You have nothing to worry about.”
“Black ops?” John retorted in disbelief. “You better not let its taint reach me. What would happen with a leak? Congressional investigation? Things would get ugly.”
“John, have I ever let you down. I got your back.”
“No, I have yours. And I want to be done with that.”