Read Online James Acton 01 - The Protocol by J Robert Kennedy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J Robert Kennedy
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of different foot prints, and steal his own vehicles,” said Jasper.
“Maybe he was in on it, though?”
Jasper realized his underling desperately wanted Acton to be involved in some way and that this conversation would never end unless he threw him a bone. “Perhaps.”
Lambert smiled smugly and clasped his hands behind his head. “I thought so.”
Jasper sighed and closed his eyes again.
Milton was still in shock from the news of several days before. The phone calls he had made had been the most grueling of his life. He wished he could have notified the families in person, but most of the students who had been killed were from out of state. The nightmares he had experienced the first night had convinced him to not even try sleeping the next two. Every time he shut his eyes he kept seeing his friend of so many years being killed. I never should have let him go!
He was exhausted. He took another swig of his double cream, double sugar, coffee, the caffeine struggling to keep his systems going. As he shook his head to try and wake up, the intercom on his desk rang. Pushing aside the speech he was working on for the memorial service, he hit the button.
“Yes, Rita?”
“There’s a phone call for you, sir, they won’t say who it is,” was the reply over the speaker.
“Take a message, I’m busy.” Milton hit the intercom button to end the conversation. A minute later his Blackberry vibrated on his hip. He grabbed it and read the message: Answer your phone Corky.
He gasped and almost dropped the Blackberry onto the floor. He was about to pick up his phone when the intercom buzzed again. “Sir, he’s really pers—”
“Put him through!” yelped Milton, grabbing for the phone.
“Yes, sir, line one.”
He hit the button. “This is Dean Milton.”
“Hi Greg, it’s me Donald.” Milton was confused. Only one person knew him as Corky, an old nickname from their college days together he’d rather forget. And that one person was not named Donald. It was James Acton.
“Donald?” asked Milton. He knew the voice was Acton’s but he decided he better play along. “Good to hear from you. It’s been a long time.”
“Too long my friend. I’d like to meet if you’ve got the time.”
“Are you in town?” His heart was pounding now. Something was definitely wrong. “Where can we meet?”
“Remember where we crammed for English Lit finals? Can you meet me there, say eight p.m. tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’ll see you there tomorrow.”
“Okay, good bye, old friend.”
“Good bye.” Milton hung up and sat back in his chair, confused. He must have thought someone was listening. He hit the intercom button. “Rita, cancel all of my appointments for the rest of today and tomorrow.” Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes as a big smile spread across his face. Jim is alive!
In a telephone repair van parked just off the campus, Agent Lambert nodded. The screen in front of him flashed the confirmation. 98.3% positive match. “It was Acton all right.”
Jasper smiled. “We’ve got him.”
A moment later, snoring rumbled through the speakers.
Somewhere along the Mexican Border
Acton sipped on a water bottle, trying to keep himself cool, as the car he had hired headed for Nogales in the scorching heat. He had used some of his remaining cash and his near perfect Spanish to take care of a few things including a ride to the border in a vehicle that redefined the term ‘beater’. He adjusted himself for the umpteenth time, trying to find comfort in the threadbare backseat, but finally gave up to the spring poking through the seat. Fortunately exhaustion won out, and he soon fell into a restless, nightmare filled sleep.
Acton jumped in his seat. “I’m sorry!”
“Sorry for what, señor?”
Acton looked around him, regaining his bearings. “Where are we?”
“Nogales. We have arrived, señor. The border is just ahead.” The driver pointed toward a long lineup of
“Maybe he was in on it, though?”
Jasper realized his underling desperately wanted Acton to be involved in some way and that this conversation would never end unless he threw him a bone. “Perhaps.”
Lambert smiled smugly and clasped his hands behind his head. “I thought so.”
Jasper sighed and closed his eyes again.
Milton was still in shock from the news of several days before. The phone calls he had made had been the most grueling of his life. He wished he could have notified the families in person, but most of the students who had been killed were from out of state. The nightmares he had experienced the first night had convinced him to not even try sleeping the next two. Every time he shut his eyes he kept seeing his friend of so many years being killed. I never should have let him go!
He was exhausted. He took another swig of his double cream, double sugar, coffee, the caffeine struggling to keep his systems going. As he shook his head to try and wake up, the intercom on his desk rang. Pushing aside the speech he was working on for the memorial service, he hit the button.
“Yes, Rita?”
“There’s a phone call for you, sir, they won’t say who it is,” was the reply over the speaker.
“Take a message, I’m busy.” Milton hit the intercom button to end the conversation. A minute later his Blackberry vibrated on his hip. He grabbed it and read the message: Answer your phone Corky.
He gasped and almost dropped the Blackberry onto the floor. He was about to pick up his phone when the intercom buzzed again. “Sir, he’s really pers—”
“Put him through!” yelped Milton, grabbing for the phone.
“Yes, sir, line one.”
He hit the button. “This is Dean Milton.”
“Hi Greg, it’s me Donald.” Milton was confused. Only one person knew him as Corky, an old nickname from their college days together he’d rather forget. And that one person was not named Donald. It was James Acton.
“Donald?” asked Milton. He knew the voice was Acton’s but he decided he better play along. “Good to hear from you. It’s been a long time.”
“Too long my friend. I’d like to meet if you’ve got the time.”
“Are you in town?” His heart was pounding now. Something was definitely wrong. “Where can we meet?”
“Remember where we crammed for English Lit finals? Can you meet me there, say eight p.m. tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’ll see you there tomorrow.”
“Okay, good bye, old friend.”
“Good bye.” Milton hung up and sat back in his chair, confused. He must have thought someone was listening. He hit the intercom button. “Rita, cancel all of my appointments for the rest of today and tomorrow.” Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes as a big smile spread across his face. Jim is alive!
In a telephone repair van parked just off the campus, Agent Lambert nodded. The screen in front of him flashed the confirmation. 98.3% positive match. “It was Acton all right.”
Jasper smiled. “We’ve got him.”
A moment later, snoring rumbled through the speakers.
Somewhere along the Mexican Border
Acton sipped on a water bottle, trying to keep himself cool, as the car he had hired headed for Nogales in the scorching heat. He had used some of his remaining cash and his near perfect Spanish to take care of a few things including a ride to the border in a vehicle that redefined the term ‘beater’. He adjusted himself for the umpteenth time, trying to find comfort in the threadbare backseat, but finally gave up to the spring poking through the seat. Fortunately exhaustion won out, and he soon fell into a restless, nightmare filled sleep.
Acton jumped in his seat. “I’m sorry!”
“Sorry for what, señor?”
Acton looked around him, regaining his bearings. “Where are we?”
“Nogales. We have arrived, señor. The border is just ahead.” The driver pointed toward a long lineup of
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