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[From Jim Collins’ notes and digital recordings. RBB]
Barbara Lemsford stood stock-still behind her desk. One of the three soldiers stood facing her, legs apart, pointing his automatic rifle at her chest. The other two pushed open the doors off the main office and satisfied themselves there was no one in the suite.
The ranking officer, a captain, approached her and stood far too close, invading her space. She shuffled back, pushing the chair behind her. He raised his pistol and pushed the barrel up against her throat. She was shaking all over and now sweat was forming beads on her brow. She couldn’t believe she was being treated like this by an American soldier – with all the finesse of the German SS from the Second World War. The gun barrel was hurting the soft tissue under her throat.
‘Where is Congressman Mayne?’ the man barked straight into her face. She could smell garlic on his breath.
‘I don’t know. He said he had a meeting,’ Barbara said with a trembling voice and on the verge of tears. ‘Please remove the gun.’
The captain stood back, kept the gun pointed at her and surveyed the desk. He grabbed a large desk diary from the pile of papers on the right. He flicked through the pages until he found today’s date. ‘Why’s there nothing in here?’ He threw it down on the desk noisily.
‘He called in and said he had a meeting. He didn’t tell me when or where.’
‘Does he do that often, then?’
‘Not often, but it isn’t unusual,’ she said looking down at the pistol.
‘Where do you think he might be?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
The captain lowered his pistol and turned to leave. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’re out of here.’
««o»»
[From Jim Collins’ notes and digital recordings. RBB]
‘It’s on the news now,’ said Jim, pointing up at the television above the counter of the diner opposite Charles Mayne’s Pittsburgh office.
‘Can you turn that up, Maisie?’
The anchor came onto the screen, ‘We are now hearing that there is an arrest warrant out for Charles Mayne. The charge is insurgency.’ A portrait of Charles came onto the monitor then it showed several sequences of him touring factories and meeting the mayor and others.
Another man sitting with Jim and Charles was looking up and down the street. They were all relieved when they saw the soldiers exit the office and drive east. Another car, with two smartly dressed men in the front seats, sat watching the office. Perhaps Secret Service or FBI.
‘We need to get you away from here, Charles,’ said Jim quietly.
‘I want to know if Barbara is all right first,’ he said.
‘Burt, call the office. Just see if it gets answered. Say nothing,’ said Jim to the small bald-headed man who was sitting opposite them
Burt Kass set the phone to hands-free and dialled. It rang four times and was answered, ‘This is the office of Congressman Mayne. How may I direct your call?’
‘She’s there. She answered okay,’ said Jim. ‘Now let’s get away while we still can.’
‘Give me your phone, Burt,’ said Charles.
He looked at the unfamiliar screen, found the keypad and dialled a number.
It seemed to take an age to be answered, ‘Hello.’
‘Helen. It’s Charles. No, no, I’m fine, but I daren’t turn my phone on. Can you give Barbara a ring at the office and make sure she’s okay? We know she’s answering, but I want to know she hasn’t been harmed.’
Helen Bond was obviously saying a few words and then Charles finished the call.
The three men finished their coffee, Charles keeping his face turned from the street, and then Burt’s cell phone rang. He looked at the caller’s number and handed it straight to Charles.
‘Yes? –You’re sure? – Good. Helen, clear this number out of your phone’s memory, please. – Yes. – Better safe than sorry. – I will. Goodbye.’
‘Where’s your car, Burt?’ Jim asked.
‘In the lot behind the Fine Wine store.’
‘Collect it and then wait at the end of the alleyway behind the diner. We’ll watch for you turning out of Fine Wine before we move. Don’t hurry. Just stroll along the street. Don’t look at the men in the car.’
‘Okay,’ Burt said and nonchalantly rose from his seat, put on his Fedora and made his way out of the diner and along the street to the Fine Wine and Good Spirits store.
A couple of minutes later, his grey Dodge Durango appeared at the Fine Wine junction. It waited for a break in the traffic and turned onto the main road, immediately indicating right and disappearing down a side street.
‘Keep looking at the ground, Charles. Follow me closely,’ said Jim. ‘Maisie, you’ve not seen us, okay?’
‘Say, who are you guys?’ she said and laughed.
Jim and Charles made their way behind the diner counter, through the kitchen and out of the rear door. Jim checked both directions. There was no one in the alley. He waited until he saw the Durango arrive at the end, then they both walked hurriedly towards it and got into the rear seats, as the glass in the back of the vehicle was heavily tinted.
‘Okay, Burt. Drive. Head south. Stop at the first phone shop you see. We need some pre-paid cell phones. They’ll be tracking Charles’ and probably mine as well. How much cash have you got on you, Charles?’ said Jim as he checked the contents of his own wallet. ‘We won’t be able to use plastic.’
‘Hey, can they track us with the satellites all down?’ asked Charles.
‘Yes. Different system. Phones register with their closest cell tower.’
About an hour later, in the town of Somerset, they pulled into a Giant Eagle store. Charles stayed in the back of the car. He was too well known. Jim and Burt headed into the store.
‘You got credit on your plastic, Burt?’
‘Yes, no problem.’
‘Good, we’ll keep the cash for the time being. They won’t be trying to track you.’
‘No, wouldn’t have thought so. What do you want?’
‘Go get some snacks, bottled water, Hershey bars to keep us going. It’s a long drive to Jacksonville, where I think Dick Beech is currently. I’ll get the phones and come find you.’
’Sure thing, Jim,’ Burt said and hurried off to the snacky aisles.