Dulce Truths

“Everything.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Carl, and you’re starting to scare me. You—”

Carl begins to chuckle, and then laugh. “Oh, Ellis… scare you?” He laughs again. “We’re not gonna scare you… we’re gonna kill you.”

Ellis’s eyes narrow and his brow furrows. His heart begins to race and pump adrenaline into his system, and as the flight-or-flight response kicks in, Ellis wonders what he’s gotten himself into, and how. Before he can get another question in, however, Carl is reaching into his pants pocket. Ellis’s eyes go wide as his friend pulls out a flash gun.

“I’m sorry, Ellis,” Carl says as he points the weapon at the Dutchman, “you were always a good friend to me.”

Ellis puts his hands up in a ‘wait’ kind of gesture. “Carl, you don’t have to—”

ZAP!

Carl pulls the trigger and the flash gun fires. The electric-like bolt that shoots out strikes Ellis and his eyes roll up into his head before he crumples to the floor.

“What the…” Carl says, looking down at the flash gun in his hand. He sees then that it’s set on a lower setting than ‘vaporize,’ and understands why Ellis is still laying there and not a small pile of ash.

Probably better this way, he thinks, and moves forward. He steps over Ellis, grabs the white ‘Lab Results’ folder from the table, and then heads to the door. He pauses, gives a final look over his shoulder at the Dutchman lying there dead, then opens the door and goes back out into the hallway.

9 — Betrayal

Blue Lake

Friday, May 25, 1979

7:18 AM

Mark and Heather are still cuddling in bed when the door to their room bursts open. Blue Lake guards rush in, handguns drawn, and one even holding a machine gun.

“What… what are you doing!” Mark shouts out as the men begin to file into the room. Beside him Heather pulls the sheet up to cover herself. “What is this, Goddamn it, what—”

Before Mark can say another word, however, and before any answer to his query comes, one of the base soldiers comes forward, grabs him by the shoulder, and throws him back down to the bed. Before Mark can resist, he feels a knee dig into his back, one arm is grabbed and pulled behind him, and then the other.

“No!” Heather shouts beside him, and Mark turns his head to see a solder giving her the same treatment, the sheet now off of her and her breasts exposed.

“Damn you!” Mark shouts, but the knee digs into his back even more. A moment later he feels cold metal on his wrists and then hears the unmistakable sound of handcuffs clicking together. After that the knee comes off his back, the hand once again grabs his shoulder, and he’s pulled over onto his back. He looks over at Heather and sees the soldier pull her up and begin marching her toward the door.

“Where are you taking her!” Mark shouts. “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on here!”

He watches as the solder gets Heather out the door, she kicking and screaming all the while. There’s still the soldier pinning him down, plus another three in the room with guns drawn and pointed his way. Mark is just about to start shouting out his questions again when Jake appears in the doorway. Mark wasn’t on the same CAT team as the young major, but he recognizes him well enough from their pre-mission briefing.

“Jake!” he shouts. “Tell me what’s going on. Tell them I didn’t do this!”

Jake tries to speak, but seeing Mark there, and remembering what he just saw in the Dutchman’s room minutes before… and he can’t. He opens his mouth, closes it, makes to try again, and then shakes his head that he cannot. Then Mark’s eyes go wide as he sees his father’s best friend standing there all of a sudden.

“What is going on, Mark,” Carl says, stepping forward before Jake has a chance to speak, “is that you’ve killed your father. He’s been found dead in his quarters, a gunshot to the head, and your pistol sitting right on the bedside table next to him.”

“Right on the…” Mark repeats, then looks back to Carl. “Can’t you see this is all a hoax, all made up? My God — I’ve been framed!”

“When we run ballistics I’ve no doubt that we’ll find the bullet matches the gun, and your hand will show the powder residue indicating you fired it.”

Mark rolls his eyes. “Of course my hand will have the powder residue on it — I was just firing the damn thing in Dulce not 12 hours ago!”

“Tell it to the JAG,” Carl says, then looks to the base guards. “Get him up and get him out of here.”

“No, this is a set-up!” Mark shouts as the guards get him to his feet, get his hands cuffed, and start taking him from the room.

Jake stands there, watching it all happen. He’d heard the guards rushing down the hallway from his room, had stuck his head out to check. They’d only been a few doors down from him so he’d popped his head in, and that’s when he’d seen the Dutchman. Carl came soon after, saw the gun, and put two and two together. Now Mark was being hauled-off down the hallway, protesting to anyone who’d listen.