Page 66 of Flash and Bang
“I think you are a hero, Jarrett. I don’t know if I ever told you how much of a hero you are. What you did to serve this country was what was needed ofyou. You’re the tip of a spear, Jarrett, a warrior, and you’re my hero.” Jarrett’s eyes softened as he stared at him. Thayne reached up and dragged his fingertips down Jarrett’s cheek. “You’re my hero.”
Jarrett didn’t say anything for a long time and then he finally reached out and wrapped Thayne in his arms again, pulling them so close, their foreheads touched. “I guess we’re pretty well matched then, Wolfe, cause you’re my hero.”
“You know, the first time a superior tried to give me a medal, I told him I didn’t deserve it,” Jarrett said. “You wanna know what he told me?”
Thayne nodded. “Yeah.”
“He told me the medal wasn’t for what I’d done. It was for having to live with what I’d done.”
Thayne’s stomach did a little flip-flop as he felt tears prick the back of his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jarrett.”
Jarrett kissed Thayne then and Thayne’s body reacted the way it always did when his larger stronger lover did this. He tried to lose himself in his lover, kissing away the painful memories he’d brought to the surface. Jarrett kissed him back. His kisses were sexy and sweet and filled with an emotion he rarely shared with Thayne. He felt the deeply emotionalconnection with Jarrett more than usual. Someday he was going to just lie in bed and kiss Jarrett—no sex—just kissing for kissing’s sake because he was so good at it. He’d grown tired of fighting the way he felt about Jarrett. He’d only resisted it because he was afraid he was the only one feeling it but he knew now that, at least some of the time, Jarrett felt it too. He was crazy about him and wanted nothing more than to wake up this way for the rest of his life.
After a few minutes, Jarrett broke the kiss and reached up, cupping Thayne’s cheek as he gazed into his eyes. “If we don’t stop, we’re gonna be late because if we don’t stop, I’m gonna pin you to this bed and fuck ya silly, Thayne.”
Thayne grinned, unable to stop the giddiness that had flooded through him as Jarrett kissed him. “Shower with me?”
“What if ya drop the soap?”
Thayne snorted. “I’ll take my chances.” He began to roll away but Jarrett stopped him and Thayne turned back, looking over his shoulder.
“When it comes to you Wolfe, I’m a safer bet than I used to be.”
Thayne smiled and kissed him again. “Yeah you are.”
****
They arrived at the Federal Building on Temple Street on time, and took the elevator up to the FBI offices. They were only half-surprised to see Special Agent Snow waiting for them in the lobby. He walked over and shook their hands, smiling when he saw the Starbucks cups they both carried.
“Thank you both for coming out to meet me here. We have things set up in the conference room, this way.”
“We weren’t sure you were going to stay up here in LA, Snow,” Thayne said.
“Matt was killed by this militia, so as far as I’m concerned, I go where the investigation goes. I won’t sleep until we put these bastards behind bars. My boss okayed my involvement in the case for as long as it takes to put these killers away. Another one of our agents succumbed to injuries sustained in the raid on the barn last night, so as far as the FBI is concerned, these maggots have just rocketed to the top of our ten most wanted list. The director has approved the use of every resource available to us and the money taps are cranked wide-open. When you see how widespread this conspiracy goes, I think you’ll understand why.”
Jarrett and Thayne exchanged wary glances. They both knew what that meant. The relatively small case of an explosion down at Miramar had turned into a nationwide manhunt for terror suspects. They were grim as they walked down the corridor of the modern offices, passing by a bullpen filled with tons of cubicles and people running around like crazy. The atmosphere was a lot like the ATF’s offices, but things seemed to be moving at an even more frantic pace than usual today. Jarrett wondered if a lot of it had to do with what the FBI had found on Greg and Mary Mason’s computer.
“Have you located Reverend James Elroy?” Thayne asked as they walked toward a large glass-enclosed room. Several people were seated around a massive conference room table typing on laptops. Others taped photos and maps on the wall, and still others were writing on whiteboards.
“We’re not sure to be honest,” Snow said, speaking with his hands. They walked into the conference room. “Come over here. I’ll show you what I mean.” He motioned them to a set of four folding picnic tables which had been set up along one wall of the conference room. The tables were covered with a series of photos, some with Mary and Greg Mason and some with other men who were speaking at various podiums. The FBI had written out note cardsdenoting the date and city where the rallies had taken place and taped them below the photos. Jarrett figured they looked like rallies had been held all over the country, primarily in southern states.
“This is what cyber has been able to gather as far as the timeline for the Freedom Brigade from the first time they hit the radar until the present,” Snow said.
Jarrett and Thayne walked down the length of the tables, following the story in pictures from the early 1960s to the present day, which happened to be pictures taken out at Miramar in San Diego. The early days were photos of clippings from old newspapers and black and white photos from what appeared to be an ever growing group of grass roots followers who were marching and standing at rallies.
“Is that Reverend James?” Thayne asked, pointing to a forty-something man in an early black and white photo.
“Yes, Mary Mason’s father. That’s her and her mother standing in the wings,” Snow said, pointing to a woman and young girl standing offstage but clearly visible in the old photo. “As best we can tell, it’s the first photograph of him speaking at a segregation rally in 1964. Mary would have been about four when the photo was taken in Wichita.”
“So this man was a public speaker even then?” Jarrett asked.
“He actually had a flock of his own and was an outspoken opponent of the civil rights movement back then and even before.”
“Wow, he was a piece of work even then,” Thayne said. “And if this was taken in the early 60s, that would make him something like ninety years old today.”
Snow nodded. “It seems so. He’s been spreading hate for nearly fifty years and from what we’ve been able to piece together, he began advocating for a grass roots movement to overthrow the US government, calling for revolution, as early as 1976 when Jimmy Carter was elected.”
“And he branched off into his right-wing fantasyland politics after that?” Jarrett asked.