Chapter 127
Trepidation lingered in Dennis’s mind as slowly walked west through a grove of oak street and came upon two dead secret service agents. Dennis suspiciously surveyed the cemetery then kneeled down and check the agent’s pulse. He was to late; their black suits were already heavily stained with their own blood. As Dennis cleared the grove of tress, he could see in the clearing a silhouette of man siting on a marble bench quietly morning the lost of a love one. Dennis quickly realized that the man was Senator Anderson.
“Sir what are you doing here; Are you all right?” Dennis crumbled to his knees and lifted up the senator’s head. The senator’s eyes seemed stone cold and desolate; his demeanor was despairing and apathetic. “What’s wrong Mr. Anderson are you injured? We got to go now senator, Martinez is planning to kill you.”
“ His name is not Martinez, it’s Private David Cooper.”
“That is impossible senator, David Cooper was killed on June 8, 1944.”
Jeff raised in head towards Dennis, his eye were filled with regret and sorrow. “Forty years ago during the D-day invasion, the soldiers of the eighty-six airborne platoon and myself found a warehouse full of German gold. We contrived a plan to pilfer the gold and smuggle it out of the country. Our endeavor was in jeopardy when four soldiers from my platoon refused to participate in a theft of the gold.”
A cynical smile crossed my face as I rolled my wheelchair toward the perplexed agent. I thrust the barrel of my Lugar pistol against agent Paterson’s head.“go on my old friend tell the inept agent the truth.”
The senator’s heart was tormented by the sins he committed. Anguish gripped his sole and left him speechless.
“Since your going to die anyway FBI agent Dennis T. Paterson, I’ll tell you the truth. The senator shot the four American soldier that refused to steal the gold. Three of those soldier are buried here in Arlington cemetery. I was the fourth soldier that the senator tried to murder forty years ago. Thanks to father Mansion, I surveyed the senator’s attempt to murder me.
Desperate to delay his emanate death, Dennis cunningly played on my ignorance and my ego by encouraging me to elaborate on my quest for vengeance. “ You where the unknown American soldier that father Mansion falsely claimed to have died in his church forty years ago.”
“Your quit clever for a flatfoot Mr. Paterson. Yes, your right, Jeff shot me and left me for dead. My friends from the eighty-six airborne platoon betrayed me and left me to die. Fortunately for me, father Gregory Mansion took me to his church a saved my life. The priest reported to the U.A. Army that I had died in his church on June 8, 1944. For the past forty years, with the help of my friend Robert Dubinsky, I have murdered all the my fellow brothers in arms for their betrayal and stolen the gold for myself. Senator Anderson is now the last soldier standing from the eighty-six airborne platoon.”
“You had Dexter murder Kevin Spencer and my old partner Roger Campbell with my Walter PP pistol?”
“Dexter didn't kill your old partner. My son Taylor Hanson murdered your old partner. Now that you know the truth, I am afraid it is time for you to die agent Paterson.”
Dennis was lost in an emotional pandemonium as Taylor Hanson walked up to him and pointed a Walter PP pistol at his head.
Terror ragged in Dennis’s heart as he turned and cast his blue eyes upon his aslant and said, “Your Taylor Hanson?”