A World Gone Crazy

Copyright 2009 Richard J. Lukenda

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ISBN: 978-1-4251-7989-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4269-8430-3 (e)

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Dedicated to:

Walter

A man who worked all his life so that others could be where they are today.

&

Samantha

A dog who gave her love and companionship unselfishly until the end.

Both were loved and are dearly missed

Contents

Day One

Dark Secrets

Jenna, Pre-Flight

Urban Angel

Thomas Starts The Fire

Test Drive

One Small Problem

Thomas Comes A-Calling

The Best Laid Plans

Mission Over

Peace Beckons

Evil And A Gentle Man

Leaving On A Jet Plane

Something Borrowed

Meeting Miguel

Miguel Makes An Impression

Flight, Interrupted

The Fire Spreads

Stella’s World

Stella, In Style

House Of Secrets

Clothes Make The Man

By The Way,

Mohammed’s Moment

New Friends, Absent Lovers

The Hunt Is On

More Turbulence

Cruel Sports

Respects, Paid

Save The Best For Last

Stella Spoils

Helena, Unleashed

Helena On High Seas

Back On The Trail

The Perfect Hostess

Luck Plays Her Hand

Hidden Currents

In The Care Of

Rhythm Of The Night

Stella, Goodbye

Jenna On His Mind

Calm Air

A New Dawn

A Few Temptations

Seven Secrets

Where To Start

Sometimes You Just Need A Wife

Evil Meets Evil

Stella Has A Situation

Evil Gets It Perfect

A Wife Arrives

Dinner For Two

The Unwilling Operative

Where To Start

The Scene Is Set

Island Time

Evil Unleashed

Catastrophe, Unparalleled

Target, Identified

Calm In The Storm

Trouble In Paradise

The Curtain Falls

Old Habits Die Hard

Mercedes Entertains

A Game Of Consequences

Old Friends Welcomed

Plans, Thwarted

The Fall Of Stella

Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud

Carol Has Her Day

Youth, Blossoming

Dark Inklings

Strange Places, Familiar Faces

Loose Tongues

Night Swimming

Of Secrets And Scorpions

Carol Gives It Her Best Shot

Everything In It’s Place

Like To Watch?

Observe The Predator

The Reunion?

Too Many Women

3 Beauties And The Zeke

More Turbulence

What You Don’t See

Jenna Talks

Zeke, Après Jenna

Carol’s Final Shot

day one

This morning hadn’t even started yet, and it was already turning out to be a bad one. He woke up feeling like crap the minute the sun hit his eyes, and it didn’t look like it was going to get any better.

It was mainly because things could not have been worse the night before. The air conditioner finally gave up and died, the dog puked next to the bed then whimpered and whined just enough to get him out of bed to see what was wrong, his foot hit the puke, his ass hit the floor and then his foot slammed into the wall at a very unnatural looking angle.

Sammy, what the fuck did you eat that’s all over the damn floor?

OK, this officially sucks. Not only am I hot and full of sweat, now I am sitting in dog puke. What’s next?

He found out quickly as he tried to get up, and realized that his left ankle would not be in much shape for walking anytime in the near future.

"I do not believe this shit," he sighed and quickly sat down on the bed. Then he gave up fighting it, stripped his clothes off and went back to sleep, assuming a hot shower in the morning would make things right for both dog puke and his ankle.

It had been one of those nights, and little did Zeke realize at the time; it was going to be one of those days. Today would change the direction of his life forever.

Zeke was in his second year of dental school, and was on break for the summer. Not because it was a vacation, but because the administration wanted money that he did not have and his grades at present would not get him any of the available scholarship aid.

He did have a rich aunt in South Florida though, and a ticket to visit her on a bargain airline out of Newark going to Fort Lauderdale.

Where the hell is Jenna, he thought. She’s got to get this dog off my hands so I can leave.

Sammy, what the hell am I going to do with you? Sammy was an overweight beagle he was babysitting for his girlfriend, Jenna. A cute dog, but she was stubborn and relentless with her whining when she wanted something to eat, which it seemed, was constantly.

Forty eight years old, and all I get out of life is to be stuck with a hungry freeking hound in a hot and smelly two room apartment in beautiful Newark, New Jersey! he screams, Where the hell are you Jenna? I never should have left the service, at least there I knew where I stood.

Just then, a key in the lock of the door calmed him down as the sweet voice on the other side made him lose his anger at the poor beagle.

Hi babe, she said with a smile that would stop anybody, man or woman, in his or her tracks. What’s wrong? You look horrible! Did you have a bad night?

All of a sudden, the heat and smell of dog puke seemed to disappear. Jenna was everything to him and if not for her pushing him, he never would have gotten off his ass and applied to dental school to make a future for them. Zeke loved her more than anything else in the world. He could never forget the very instant they had met at the Vietnam vet memorial in New Jersey, where he had gone to remember his friends and she the father she had never met.

You really push things sometimes, Jen. I have to get to the airport. You know there are no reserved seats on this flight and if I’m not there at least an hour before takeoff, I don’t take off. I feel totally out of control, and my whole life seems to be put on hold by a dog that won’t shut up.

All she needs is a nibble of something and she’ll be quiet, Jenna scolded him. You’re too uptight, we’ll get to the airport with time to spare. You know, you really should clean this place up once in a while; it is really starting to smell bad. Did you call your aunt and tell her you were on your way? Why are you limping?

I never had a chance to clean, I almost broke my ass on dog puke when I got up, I fucked up my ankle, I can hardly walk and since then I’ve been in no mood to call or talk to anybody. I’ll get cleaned up and call her on the way to the airport if you still have your phone. Mine is off for lack of funds and it does not look like it’s going to be back on anytime soon. But please bear with me love, you’re here and everything will work out, I know it, he said melodramatically, to Jenna’s amusement.

Jenna was Zeke’s last road out of permanent despair. In the service, he did what he was told and did it well. So well in fact, that before long he was assigned to a special operations group, which operated initially in Laos and Cambodia and then spread to all corners of the globe, including Europe and the Middle East. He and his contemporaries were not superheroes, they were not overly aggressive and did not resemble any of the movie heroes portrayed after the conflict.

Zeke and his crew were acquired straight out of college. A special branch of the government had the great idea to enlist students of average or above average build, but with a high intelligence factor and the ability to take orders and act independently to achieve the result.

Killing was hard at first, but soon it became a matter of challenge. How it could be accomplished with the most benign tools and under the most unpredictable circumstances became exciting. This became Zeke’s life after a degree in Chemistry coupled with some highly specialized government training.

dark secrets

In November 1966, U.S. Army General Leslie Borden, after facing a major disappointment when his son Jason washed out of Army Special Forces training, came up with a unique idea of using high intelligence minus overt physical ability to build a team of military infiltrators to aid in the undeclared war effort.

Jason was an extremely bright boy with an IQ in the range of 140. He was not a man whom one would think of as a wimp by any standards, but he realized, much to his father’s disappointment, that no amount of physical conditioning would turn him into a Class I Alpha male. It was just not meant to be.

Jason did, however, possess an extreme loyalty to both his country and father, so much so that the thought of being just an average military officer brought him into bouts of depression whenever he pondered the military and the ongoing war effort.

In seeing the desperation and futile efforts of his son, General Borden came up with the idea of developing a unique group of personnel dedicated to fostering his nation’s ambitions and goals.

Borden’s special team consisted of personnel, both male and female, who were of superior intelligence and unquestioned loyalty to their country. These individuals would be skilled not only in the martial arts but also in affairs of international business, chemistry and a working knowledge of anatomy and pharmacology.

The formation of the Creatively Armed Tactical Squadron or CATS as it was later to be called, had become an obsession with Borden. He envisioned the war effort to be won not only in the jungles and villages of Vietnam, but also deep behind the scenes in the business environment of Southeast Asia.

His CATS were to be trained to operate as free agents posing as business executives from various countries and they would deal directly with the North Vietnamese. At various points in these international dealings, his personnel were able to become close to the major economic players in the East. These leaders of select Asian industries would then suffer unusual and untimely deaths or medical incidents without suspicion and untraceable in cause.

In less than seven months, a group of sixteen men and four women were assembled from the colleges of America to begin the twelve-month training for this unique soldiering. The CATS were to be trained as business emissaries, but with a very strong knowledge of death.

Money always talked in the modern world, and although the American people were in the dark as to the real power of international industry, the military brass and most intelligent politicians knew otherwise. The CATS were the answer to the problem of imported industrial supply to North Vietnam.

In the field, the young agents would be above suspicion, a group of somewhat nerdy individuals who catered to their bosses on journeys to the East. Behind their backs, the Asian business community would laugh at the weak westerners, kissing up to the asses of their pompous superiors trying to sell commodities into friendly countries, which would then route the products into the North Vietnamese war effort.

Since our friendly allies in the world economic community could not be directly confronted with the issue of supplying the Vietnamese, it would be the job of the CATS to eliminate these friends and complicate the resupply efforts of the North.

Their training in the basic medical arts and pharmacology provided the agents with the ability to kill or render their targets physically useless, without raising the least bit of suspicion. Both benign household items and chemicals became their weapons. An aggressive businessman turned into a quadriplegic stroke victim, was just as effective as death in eliminating a target.

Their military training, coupled with their resourcefulness and high IQ, provided the agents with unbeatable assets. There was but only one instance in which an agent was compromised and subsequently eliminated. It was this unique ability and unusually high success rate, which later rendered a unique description of a member of the CATS squadron.

When the war effort was terminated, a member of the military brass jokingly referred to Zeke, a member of Borden’s group as, the type of person, who, when hungry, would calmly climb a palm tree in the middle of a hurricane, get blown off, only to land on his feet and walk away eating the coconut.

The seventies saw an expansion of the group, as their qualities became highly prized in solving America’s problems, which began presenting themselves in other global arenas. Borden’s group soon gained national importance equal to any of the other elite government agencies, though knowledge of it’s existence was privy to only a handful outside the Oval Office and the highest circles within the Pentagon.

Although they secured many of our national objectives, neither the general public nor international courts of law would have approved their methods. They have their place but it is in the darkest shadows of the military.

jenna, pre-flight

Zeke, you’ve got to learn to relax, your flight isn’t till 10:00 and it’s only 6:00, Jenna said. You get yourself so worked up over the littlest shit. God only knows how you made it to this point in your life.

Relax? Worked up? Made it to this point in my life? he mocked. If it wasn’t for all of everyone else’s shit, I would be OK! I am fine with my own problems, it’s the shit everyone else throws at me that pisses me off! I planned on a simple trip to Florida today. I did not plan on slipping in dog puke and fucking up my ankle. I thank Sammy for that. I also didn’t plan on running out of money for school, thank the government for that, and finally I didn’t plan on arguing with you, and I don’t thank anyone for that, he said.

On that last statement and with the look on his face, Jenna couldn’t help but smile and chuckle. It was her smile that made everything seem fine to anyone with a problem, especially Zeke.

Here, let me see your ankle, can you step on it? she asks.

It’ll be alright, believe me, I’ve been in worse shape then this. I’ve even been known to have a couple of broken bones in the past. Things heal, it’s just that this is starting to be one of those days, beyond my control and I don’t like it, he said.

Well control your ass into a hot shower and clean up, she ordered. I’ll get some clean clothes together for you and pack. You have plenty of time so don’t rush, take a nice long shower and cheer up.

It wasn’t long before the bathroom was steaming and Zeke was singing, his mood definitely changing for the better. It changed even more when Jenna decided to join him in the shower.

Hey lover, she whispered. I figured you could use some help, you know, bad ankle and all.

With those words in his brain, his smile intensified and he turned to embrace her and hold her like there would be no tomorrow. Lips and bodies soon became one and he slowly entered her, lifting her off the tiled shower floor. It was as if his entire life had filtered into this moment in time.

You really know me lady, he whispered, I hope I never let you down.

Well maybe you better put me down, she said, panting and moaning. We do have to get you dressed and to the airport… there will probably be delays… but you’re right… just like the military… you better hurry up to get there and wait… her voice trailed off to one last long, exquisite moan.

They leant against the wall of the shower, both panting, soap covering her perfect breasts, washing down her tight, perfect waist.

No… you were right before, babe, we have plenty of time. The terminal is only twenty minutes away and my world is here right now, he pleaded for more.

Yeah, twenty minutes when all is going right, from the way you tell it, today’s going to be an hour drive, she said. Let’s not push things, besides I’m hungry and maybe we can grab some breakfast on the way to the car.

On that note, it was back to reality and he turned off the water. He knew she was his and the primary objective now was to get dressed, and get down to the sunshine state. Stella, his father’s sister would be waiting in Fort Lauderdale to pick him up. She had always liked him and he was sure that financial help would be waiting with her.

In the bedroom, he saw that Jen had his small duffel bag almost packed, with some new clothes laid out to wear. They weren’t exactly his taste in color, but Jenna always insisted that he looked great in pastels and they were the designer types that most of south Florida’s preppy men preferred.

Hope you don’t mind me shopping a little for you. I thought you would make a better presentation down south in something other than jeans. You do wear purple well and are quite a handsome man. Your aunt is still a woman and looking good never hurts, she explains.

Thanks baby, I’d never figure things like that to be important, my mind works in other ways. You’re probably right, but I still feel like I’m dressed like someone I’m not. I’m going to feel like a rich man on a bargain basement airline, but what the hell, he said.

Come on and hurry, I’m getting hungry, she replied with a smile.

urban angel

Yolanda, the neighbor across the hall, was coming up the stairs as Zeke was locking the door to his apartment. They were on their way to breakfast with the chubby beagle pulling at the leash to lead.

Yo! Zeke yelled as he pulled back on the leash restraining the dog from jumping all over Yolanda. Jenna, you better take her, my ankle’s not quite right and I don’t want her pulling me.

Hey Zeke, wuz up? Where you off to and what’s with the foot? You look hurtin’ man. Looks like you best sit, instead of going down these stairs, she warns him, in her usual hip, urban slang.

He sighs as he looks down the three long flights of stairs in the turn of the century building, actually from the 1880’s. For some strange reason, the stairs and the very building had survived not only the years, but also the aging pains of one of New Jersey’s oldest cities. Absent from the stairwell and hallways was any of the ever-present graffiti or so called art of the inner city.

The chestnut railings, though old, were polished smooth from the years of hands rubbing and gripping on the way up and down. The old plaster, bulging in some areas was still intact though showing years of stress cracks.

For whatever reason, the gangs and junkies of the inner city had stayed out and left this old building alone. There had always been a pleasant mix of retail stores on the street level and apartments on the second and third floors. In fact, the building was still in the family of the original builder, whose great grandson now operated a florist shop on the ground floor and lived in an apartment upstairs.

On my way to the sunshine state Yolanda, gonna see some family in Ft. Lauderdale, if I can ever get to the airport, he said with an exaggerated level of chagrin.

Well you best let me look at that ankle before going anywhere baby, you could be hurt. Come into my place and let me look, might be able to help you, she instructs him.

Don’t think it’s serious, probably just sprained, I’ve done worse to myself and lived, he said, trying to ignore the problem so they could get on their way.

Livin’ with, ain’t what we talkin’ ‘bout, but comfort is. I’ve seen worse too, don’t mean we got to ignore you hurtin’ man, she scolds him as his own sister would.

Yolanda was a practical nurse who got her basic education on the streets of Newark and her nursing degree over many hard years of working while attending NYU. She became introduced to nursing when her husband Denny was shot in a drive by shooting over ten years ago.

Denny hung on from his hospital bed for over three weeks, fighting hard to live after doctors removed three 9mm slugs from his body. But as one slug had found it’s mark in his pancreas and another had ripped a hole in his brain, the damage was irreversible. Yolanda developed nothing but respect for the hard working nurses as she watched them attend him. After her vigil, she was determined to clean up her act and get some education to actually do something with her life.

Working almost full time and with the help of some government program money and her own determined perseverance, she got her degree. The work was hard, and though she felt underpaid, she was entirely satisfied with her position in life.

Without even taking the shoe off, Yolanda knew she would at least be taping the ankle. You got one hell of a sprain there Zeke, might even have a small break somewhere. Sure you don’t want to go to emergency? she said, hard trying to persuade him.

No, it’ll be ok, probably just hurt for a couple of days. I’ll limp and make the best of it, he replied.

Well I’m gonna tape it for you and I think I even got a cane you can borrow to spread the load. It belonged to someone not with us anymore, and I don’t think he’d mind you using it, she said sweetly.

After she finished, he gave her a warm hug and said, Appreciate all you did for me Yolanda. You need anything from Florida? Maybe I can repay you when I get back.

Some oranges would be nice if they in season, if not, don’t worry, she replied, with a huge white smile and a wave of her hand, meaning it was no big deal.

Do my best to help you out baby, but I think season is November or December. I’ll sure try though.

On that Zeke, Jenna, and Sammy left the apartment to get some food before going to the airport. With the help of his cane, Zeke managed to descend the stairs better than he thought twenty minutes earlier.

Street level brought a three-block walk to Jenna’s car. Parking was tight in the neighborhood, and you put your car where you could. Neither of them cared less, the walk provided many choices for food from both street vendors and eateries and Zeke’s ankle actually wasn’t too much of a problem thanks to his angel of mercy.

The breakfast choice today, of all things, turned out to be chilidogs at one of Newark’s oldest luncheonettes. The chili was hot and the onions were the kind that hung with you all day. A couple of these dogs with a large mug of cold, draft root beer put most city people in heaven. Even Sammy began drooling as she sat, on her best behavior, tied up at the parking meter while they ate. She knew there was food and couldn’t wait for her share. She was rewarded with a few scraps from Jenna’s plate.

Jenna’s car was still there where she left it, in a loading zone on Market Street. After months of following parking regulations and always running late, she finally had developed the attitude of a city dweller, Park where you can, and the hell with it.

Well the car’s still here, and in one piece Zeke, you’ll be at the airport by 8:30. You should know by your age that it does not pay to get all worked up. I’ll get you there, then all you have to do is relax, nap on the plane, and be in good shape to meet your aunt. It never pays to worry over the things you can’t change, she told him lovingly.

Yeah, well we’re not at the airport yet and I really won’t calm down until I get my seat assigned and we are in the air. Usually when something can go wrong, it will, he argued back stubbornly.

thomas starts the fire

The beat-up white Chevy van, left by the Agency, sat unattended with its right front tire flat on Jacques Ave. in Union City, for two days without any movement, before Thomas and his friends decided to investigate its contents. The vehicle evidently was left at the curb because the spare tire mounted on the rear door was non-functional, having a huge slash in it.

For some reason the owner was delayed in his repair of the vehicle and the recovering of it’s contents. These delays and the leaving of a strange vehicle in this part of town often resulted in windfall profits for some of the city residents.

At times business could be very lucrative, not only in the fencing of a radio or personal effects left in the vehicles, but sometimes people would be in the process of moving, and there would be numerous electronic audio components or other household contents to chose from. Other times, they would come across an assortment of tools, which some tradesperson kept in their vehicle rather than unload at home. All in all, it was amazing what some people left in their vehicles while unattended, under the impression they were secure because they were locked up.

Marco had the passenger door open in less than a minute and access to the storage area seconds later. This time it was not household contents left behind but rather boxes of military hardware unlike any seen before. The wooden crates held conventional looking weapons of an unusual nature. These were not weapons made of metal, but rather of a lightweight resin. Even the ammunition, stored in zip-lock vinyl bags, was of a plastic material of a very light weight.

Thomas was savvy enough to realize instantly, that as valuable as this prize could be on the street, his life span, if he took it, would become worthless. A man of the streets did not have to be a genius to know that the people responsible for this ordinance would have it well within their means to track down and eliminate the violators of the vehicle.

It was only by a dumb stroke of luck that James Kendal; the operative on surveillance at the time of the vehicle’s entry was preoccupied relieving the call of nature in the sweet shop across the street. This little break was no big deal for him, as he knew that when the delivery took place