Chapter 60
Plagued by Senator Jeff Anderson's depravity for human life, John Kelly returned to Dexter Framingham’s secret converted convent on Connecticut Avenue. The front of the convent was a legitimate church set up by the FBI for nuns. The back of the church was a secret unofficial FBI blackout room. The staff consisted of loyal agents hand-picked by director Framingham himself.
The secret blackout room was the perfect secret location for Dexter to conduct illegal operations. Dexter used his secret blackout room to spy on members of Congress, conduct illegal gun smuggling, drug trafficking, torture suspects and laundry money.
As director of this unknown, sheathed and cloaked operation, Dexter had the resources, money and sufficient agents to take over a small country. The secret blackout room was integrated with the latest technology, including a supercomputer and the latest spyware. The church was the perfect cover from which to conduct illegal wire taps on all the Senators, especially Senator Jefferson Anderson.
John Kelly felt anxious as he walked past two heavy armed guards and a steal plated door into Dexter’s office. The office was striped of any furniture or decor except a large wooden table and Dexter’s large leather chair. A computer and a large monitor adorned the wooden table. The windowless room was shielded from every known listening device which enabling Dexter to enjoy the luxury of not being spied on by his competition; The CIA.
A suspicious look crossed Kelly’s face as loomed over Dexter’s shoulder and watched the video of his conversation with Senator Anderson. Kelly was besieged with rage again as he watched himself in the video yell at his former sergeant.
The violent vehement between Kelly and Senator Jefferson Anderson amused Dexter as he sipped his whiskey. An arrogant look covered the slick politician’s face as he tried to circumvent Kelly’s inquisition. The Senator looked pompous and arrogance. John Kelly looked enraged with madness and on the verge of killing the Senator. Dexter chuckled as he watched two former friends skirmish in front of the Washington monument. The scene was on a knife’s-edge when suddenly Kelly erupted into absurd psychotic hysteria and threatened to kill the Senator.
The video finally stopped and the light came back on in Dexter's office. Dexter was truly macerated by the Senator’s lies and betrayal.
“The senator claimed you hired Martinez to kill my friends Kevin Spencer and Todd Beacon.” Animosity crept into Kelly's soul as he pulled out his pistol and aimed at the director’s head.
“What are you going to do Kelly kill me?” The director chucked as he took another sip of whiskey. “Put down that gun you fool. I didn’t hire Martinez to kill your friends. Why would I kill Todd? Todd was my own flesh and blood?”
Kelly’s mind swirled with rage and bewilderment as he pondered the validity of Dexter’s statement.
“Calm down Kelly. I loved Todd, I would never kill him; he was my only cousin.”
“Why would the senator accuse you of hiring Martinez?”
“Here take a glass and think things over before you kill me. I have proof that senator Anderson is working with Martinez.” I have taped a conversation between Martinez and senator Anderson right after Kevin Spencer was murder. Listen to this tape before you decide to kill me John.”
A perplexed look crept across Kelly’s face as an ominous voice from his past bellowed from Dexter’s speakers, “I just killed Kevin Spencer for his sins.”
A look of horror crept across Kelly’s face as he screamed, “I know that voice. That is the same mysterious voice that called me four days ago.”
“Yes, I know Kelly we have been bugging your phone for the last six months. We have tried to trace Martinez’s call to the senator, but came up with nothing. I have a strong suspicion that the Senator hired Martinez to kill your old friends. My theory is that the phone call from Martinez to the senator was confirmation that the hit was complete.”
“If the senator hired Martinez to kill my friends, then why did Martinez try to kill him less then two day ago?”
A perplexed look slowly emerged on Dexter’s face as pondered Kelly's question.
“I don't know, maybe the senator reneged on paying Martinez for killing your friend.”
Kelly’s troubled mind swirled with animosity and bewilderment. “Why did the senator tell me to find my old friend Robert Freeman? Robert Freeman died in accident almost forty years ago?”
“I don't know how to tell you this Kelly, but the senator wasn’t lying Robert Freeman is alive. I have an FBI agent watching Robert Freeman in Ottawa right now. I need you to go to Ottawa and bring Robert Freeman to Washington D.C. Maybe he will be able to inform us why the senator is involved with Martinez.”
“That's impossible, I couldn’t get past the border even if I wanted to.”
“I’ll take care of that,” Dexter boasted as he sat down at his computer. “First, I’ll create you a fake passport and first class ticket to Ottawa. Once you're in Ottawa, my agent will help you find Robert Freeman.”
“What am I going to do with Robert once I find him?”
“Tell your friend that I will rescind all outstanding warrants for his arrest if he agrees to testified again senator Anderson.
“Okay,” Kelly regrettable, said. “When do I go?”
Dexter’s printed an authentic looking passport and first class tickets to Ottawa and said, “Your airplane doesn't leave till eight tomorrow morning.”
“Eight in the morning? Where I am supposed to stay tonight?”
“You can stay here of course; we have
world-class accommodation on the third floor.” Kelly was very skeptical of Dexter’s involvement in the murder of his friends. Suspicion swirled in John’s troubled mind as he pondered who was lying to him, his old friend senator Anderson or the director of the FBI Dexter Framingham.
Exhausted, fatigued and dingy, from traveling across three time zones, Kelly wondered into Dexter’s luxurious appointed penthouse. Kelly hastily peeled away his disheveled green plaid shirts, worn Levi jeans, a pair of tightie whities and a pair of worn converse all-star sneakers onto the floor of the penthouse as he raced for the shower.
The warmth of the shower melted away feeling of bitterness and resentment that lurked in his soul. Though he was severely deprived of sleep, Kelly took a couple of minutes to remove the six days of dirt that he has accumulated since leaving Urbana Illinois.
Wiping away the mist from the mirror, Kelly could clearly see that his once thick, red beard had faded and turned gray. For the pasty forty years, Kelly watched as the gray hairs quickly infiltrated and proliferated within his beard till there was almost no color left. Kelly stared back at the old man in the mirror and wondered where the last forty years of his life went. Kelly drifted back and remembered all the dreams, hopes and aspiration he once had as a young man, before the war. Now the only thing that he has left was child he never saw, a nagging ex-wife, two murdered friends and a gray beard. Gloom and despair has saturated his sole, for the past forty years and left him feeling hollow and alone. John walked over to the bar and reach for the only thing that seem to relieved the pain and suffering. Kelly drank a bottle of Jameson whiskey and descended to his nightly dream of a girl with crimson hair, green eyes and curvy hips.