#3 - THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE ROAM

Any place but home or anywhere else familiar, that's what you did when you put yourself in the line of fire. Bob and Kathleen fit the bill and, therefore, both knew that even though they had to go somewhere, they couldn't go home. Granted, the place they would end up was familiar to both, but also had a surprise.

       Bob asked, "Where are we headed?"

       Kathleen proved prepared. "Heading south. I think Alabama's a good place to disappear."

       "I like Alabama."

       Ariel had other thoughts. "Why are we going all the way to Alabama?"

       Peeking through the rear view, Kathleen explained, "It's safer being somewhere we know." She studied Ariel's annoyance. "Ever been to Alabama?"

       "Nope." She folded her arms and watched the meaningless scenery zip by as they sped down the highway.

       The ride through Pennsylvania found a series of buildings that reminded Ariel of a broken roller coaster, something that matched her broken sense of reality. This brought her back to her childhood and first day of preschool. Before then, she'd never been away from her mom. She had visited the school and even made a couple friends that day. She met her teacher who seemed nice enough.

       The problem: She wasn't mom. Sure Ariel wished to see her dad, the only other one who she'd been alone with other than her mom. But mom did everything with her. Okay, her dad changed a mean diaper. Not to mention the fact that he potty trained Ariel in three days.

       But no one spent as much time with Ariel as her mom. No one hugged her as much and kissed her and taught her how to be a . . . well, a girl and, eventually, a woman. Her mom helped her with school work -- dad taught her softball, soccer and basketball. Both taught her to be confident. Mom helped her to understand that it was okay to feel, to laugh, to cry when sad and to feel frustration when she didn't like an outcome or agree with a decision.

       So, when mom left her at preschool, Ariel cried the first hour. She saw her mom quickly turn and leave, at the advice of the principal. Ariel wasn't supposed to hear that but she didn't miss much, even as a child.

Now, in the back of a strange SUV with two people she had never met before, Ariel Berkshaw headed toward Alabama and felt like the little girl all alone with no one she could trust, not completely. The only difference is that she didn't cry. She could have, but society taught her crying meant weakness. She wasn't weak.

       Ariel would not have been surprised if they had been on the road for a week. As it was, the trip took two days with one stop somewhere in North Carolina.

       Something about the ride that made her curious. Neither Bob nor Kathleen reached out to anyone. In fact, they carried with them cheap store bought go-phones that cost them twenty-four dollars for the pair, a two for one deal. Ariel didn't ask any questions at the moment, but as they left the little drugstore, they opened up their iphones, threw out the batteries, took the memory chips and broke the phones. Cloak and dagger all the way, but it still didn't prevent Ariel from wondering what purpose it served. Especially, when she would have gladly taken either of those phones off their hands if they would have asked.

       Bob continued to try to make small talk with Ariel. Kathleen gave up somewhere in Maryland. Ariel kept her answers brief and, from time to time, acted as if she didn't hear a word.

       Finally, Bob found a chink in the armor. "How long have you been working at the Coffee Bean?"

She shifted in her seat, glanced at Bob, then stared out the window. "Almost ten ears."

       He considered the response before his followup question. "Do you go to school, anything like that?"

       Sarcastically, Ariel shot back, "You're the government agent, why don't you get the answer yourself."

       "Because I would rather here it from you." Bob answered calmly.

       Ariel's gaze found Bob's direct eye contact softer than before but still hard. "I own the shop."

       This got Kathleen's attention. Apparently, neither expected this. "You know, some small business owners don't make enough money to hire help, so they have to do everything themselves." Came Ariel's defensive explanation.

       Bob nodded, "Even so, it's not something you expect." After a slight pause, Bob faced the front. "Still, it does make sense when I think about it."

       "Why's that?" Ariel asked, curious, a little softer.

       "All the time I spent at the Coffee Bean, I noticed on more than one occasion where you seemed to know a lot more than most servers, as far as how to handle situations. There was always something different about you."

       Ariel challenged, "Such as?"

       "Such as, one day, when a few teenagers began to get a little rowdy, hopped up on Cappuccino."

       "With a smile, Ariel quipped, "I remember that day. And I remember you sitting in your little hideaway. You know, you could have helped out a little."

       "Didn't need to." Bob shrugged. "You had everything completely under control."

       For the first time, she smiled. Not big, but Bob and Kathleen knew that Bob had finally broken through the ice. Ariel did, too, and tried to calm her thoughts down a little. Bottom line: Ariel couldn't avoid the flattery's affect on her, how it burrowed its way into her subconscious, steadily, slowly, with the precision of a surgeons scalpel.

       Soon, Kathleen and Bob both noticed Ariel's wall coming down. Not completely, but she allowed them within arms length. This made the ride to Alabama more amicable for everyone. It also lead to Ariel thinking a little more clearly.

       She decided it best to find out what Kathleen and Bob knew. "Okay, so I was targeted because my first name began with the letter A."

       Bob added, "And that you were a woman."

       "Okay, now we need to figure out what else."

       Kathleen glanced at Bob who stared at her with a thoughtful expression. Kathleen nodded. Bob faced Ariel. "That's what we were hoping for, too."

       With a pleasant expression, Ariel said, "In that case, let's get started. What else did you notice about all the victims?"

       As Ariel asked the question, Bob had turned in his seat and grabbed a report. He flipped through the gathered evidence. As he did he began to go more quickly through the pages. "Oh no. This can't be right."

       "What?" Kathleen asked.

       "Everyone of the women killed were small business owners. And I'm also expecting to see something else, once we get more information."

       Bob pulled out his cellphone and dialed their contact. He answered. "Hi Frogger. Listen, I have a question concerning the victims . . . tell me how long the small business owners have been in business and how much they earned a year."

Hearing the conversation, Ariel spoke up, "Not sure about the others, but this business owner is pulling in six figures in profit . . . or, at least, I was."

       Bob half turned with an expression that reflected his surprise. He then returned his focus to Frogger. "Okay, thanks. We'll be in touch." After disconnecting the call, Bob faced Kathleen. "All the women, so far were within three months of their tenth year and made six figures in profits. Frogger said he'd do some more checking, but we're narrowing the field. Now, we have to know what the government has to do with all this."

       Ariel leaned forward. "You think they're after successful small business owning women?"

       "I don't know. Can't assume anything at this point. Main thing we need to do is get you to Nevada."

       A question Ariel meant to ask but forgot came back to her. "Yeah, I meant to ask. Whats in Nevada for me?"

       "A choice. You can work for the government as a civilian, get into CIA work after some training, or go into witness protection and choose where you wish to live."

       In a neutral tone, Ariel asked, "I take it I can't go back to New York."

       "Or your family."

       Ariel sat back without another word, pondering the course her life had taken. Thinking back to her first day of preschool, she hoped this newly added stage to her life would turn out just as positively.

       Soon, they made their way to Montgomery, remaining on their southward course, each mile adding to the map of Ariel's experiences, her future more uncertain than ever before.

To find out the government's interest, checkout the next installment of BOB AND THE MOMENT OF TRUTH

(REMINDER: This is a work of fiction (NOT REAL) and, therefore, the events and characters in this book are fictitious. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.)

#2 - ON THE RUN

       Bob confiscated the dead man's guns, surveyed the coffee shop, made sure no danger lurked in the backrooms. Once he saw everything secure, he pulled out his cellphone and made contact with his partner.

       "Bob, are you safe?" Came the voice of his partner, Kathleen.

       "I'm safe."

       "And the attempt on Ariel's life?"

       "Ariel's safe with me." Bob reported.

       "Good. Bob, listen, we can't rely on the CIA . . . and no one with the ATF."

       Bob glanced over to see Ariel sitting in a chair, pale with fear. "Not surprised about the CIA. As far as the ATF, what about Jack Tate? He's always helped us when we need it."

       "Not sure that we can even rely on him. And, with what's going on, we're on our own until we get a clearer picture of things."

       Bob saw a dark gray Ford Escape pull in front of the coffee shop. "We're on our way."

       He disconnected the call and reached a hand out. "Ariel, our ride is here. Time to go."

       She looked at his face absently, then his hand. Without a thought, she reached out and Bob took her hand and the two left the shop.

       As Kathleen pulled onto the street, heading toward them on the opposite side, police cars headed for the shop, lights on and sirens blaring. She asked Bob, "Is everything clean?"

       "No sign that I was ever there. I have all security tapes as well."

       This caught Ariel's attention. "What? You took the security tapes? The police won't be able to know who tried to kill me."

       Bob turned casually. "They won't be able to help even if they did see the tape."

       Ariel challenged Bob, "Why?"

       Kathleen and Bob glanced at one another with the same thought. Good, she's starting to come around. Bob answered, "The man who tried to kill you is an agent of a secret society. I was sent to protect you."

       "So who are you that you know so much?"

       "We're government agents from a secret branch of the CIA."

       "A secret branch of the CIA?" Ariel almost laughed. "I thought everything about the CIA was secret."

       "Some are more secret than others. Either way, we're here to take you to Nevada, about an hour outside of Las Vegas?"

       "Nevada?" What's there that I should want to go there?"

       "A new life, safe from those who want you exterminated."

       Ariel's thoughts darkened in an instant. "Why would anyone want me . . . exterminated?"

       "That's their term. You see, this secret society longs for the extermination of all women with a first name that starts with the letter A."

       She didn't believe what she just heard. "Wait. They want to kill me because my first name begins with A?"

       "That's right. They have a specific order they are looking to accomplish the removal of women with a first name beginning with an A and they've decided that they need to begin with a-r names. They've already eliminated women with a-a, a-b, a-c, a-d. Once we found out their mission, they were half way through the a-d's. The government tried to keep it quiet but word is beginning to leak. The society, once they knew we knew, have decided to skip to a-r names. They won't proceed until you're dead."

       She thought a moment, and then asked, "But wouldn't they go through a-r-a and a-r-b, and the rest before they got to a-r-i?"

       "We thought so, too."

       Kathleen interrupted, "The government appears to be involved with the so-called cleansing. Once they knew we had begun to investigate and figured out the next target, they moved to you."

       Bob added, "So Kathleen sent me to you while she drove here as quickly as possible. Now that you've been targeted and it's failed, they won't stop until you're killed."

       Ariel sat back in her seat stunned, dizzy from the information that had just been given her. Why would anyone want to kill people just because their first name began with the letter A?

For answers to these questions and what happens next, check back for the next installment of BOB AND THE MOMENT OF TRUTH.

#1 - BOB AND THE MOMENT OF TRUTH

Once upon a time -- we'll call him Bob -- but Bob found himself at a loss for what to do. He had the entire day to himself and, for a change, he wanted to shake things up a bit. A little before nine in the morning, he decided to choose a book and head out for the local coffee house. Without delay, he grabbed The Moment of Truth off his bookshelf, a book that, when he bought it, he didn't bother to read the description of the story. He simply liked the sound of the title and figured he might as well give it a shot. After all, with a title like that, how could it miss?

So, off he went to The Coffee Beanie, a name thought up by the husband/wife ownership because, as the wife said, "It just sounded cozy."

And there's no doubt they went for a cozy atmosphere, with a fireplace, curtains on the windows, carpeting, and a little living room set in the corner. When Bob arrived, he ordered himself a cinnamon roll and an iced white chocolate mocha, because they were the first two items he saw.

Bob took a seat at a small table in a corner with a realistic looking fake, green, potted, plant-thing, that took the shape of a small Christmas tree, behind him. Once he sat, it surprised him, the shadow that cast itself over his chair and most of the table. He felt hidden, to the point that he feared the server would not find him when she brought the food out. So he sat and waited, keeping a lookout for his food.

As soon as he saw the girl come out from behind the counter with his order, he flagged her down the server, eyes down cast. When she walked toward him, she smiled sweetly, something that scared him. He took the food and drink without raising his eyes to the server and set to arranging his mocha, top left and his cinnamon roll in front of him. Only after he had the napkin on his lap, took one drink of his mocha and one bite of his cinnamon roll, did he finally open his book to the first page of the first chapter.

The Moment of Truth took no time throwing Bob into the action, which always alarmed him. The opening scene found the main character in a moment of indecision. Should he finish the book he had just started or help save the woman who he noticed in danger of being killed. What made Bob even more nervous: The plot occurred at a coffee house known as the The Coffee Bean! No, not and exact match, but close enough to give Bob the chills.

Bob had always been one for safety. Take the safe approach. Make sure to eat all his vegetables and drink milk for strong bones. Study hard, get a good job and save like you'll live forever.

The main character of this book, though, didn't play it safe. 'After all,' the character, Jack Bishop thought, 'we're talking about life and death here.'

So, Jack jumped from his seat, sending his laptop crashing to the ground, sparks flying, and he launched himself at the woman, grabbed her and pulled her down. The woman screamed, the gun fired and the bullet grazed Jack on the arm. The woman lived. Jack whipped out a gun and put a bullet in the shooters head. Once he knew the woman was safe, Jack said, "I'm CIA young lady and you're going to have to come with me."

Exhaustion came over Bob Sebastian. He looked up and began to survey the coffee house, wondering if such a plot threatened to carry itself out. When he felt certain that everything was safe, Bob sucked down his white chocolate mocha and ate his cinnamon roll. When he finished, he ordered another of each.

He arranged everything just as before on the table, drank half his white chocolate mocha, ate half of his cinnamon roll, and began reading. Chapter two began with Jack Bishop taking the woman to his Head Quarters before he had instruction for his next move. Once there, Jack notice the beauty of the woman, Ariel Redfeather, an American Indian and target of a group that called themselves, Ethnic Cleansing or EC for short.

More of the plot had been laid out for Bob in chapter two, letting him know that this book would not give him a break because, amidst the plot direction, three double-agents for EC pulled out their weapons to kill Redfeather. Fortunately for her, Jack had been faster and took out all three, a bullet to the head, a death blow to the throat and a knife to the heart of the other. Bob quickly finished his mocha and cinnamon roll at the end of the chapter and, consequently, ordered a third of both.

Now, at this point, even though I realize I could be giving some things away here, but the mocha had a fair amount of sugar and was loaded with caffeine, and the cinnamon rolls had more sugar than I care to even mention in each of them.

The third chapter found Jack and Ariel in his car and on the run with nowhere they could go for safety. Nowhere, that is, accept Ariel's neighborhood of American Indians. The problem here came in the fact that the neighborhood existed in Oklahoma and they were in New York.

A moment of a blackout occurred for Bob. When he came to, Bob looked around disoriented as the server asked him if he was okay. At that moment, Bob didn't feel the same. Something was very different. His usual safe existence disappeared, because he could feel in his bones that something was very wrong. He noticed the man at a table near the door stand and reach into his coat as he stepped forward.

Bob didn't think. He just reacted. The man began to hurry forward. Bob pulled out a Sig Sauer and, as the man pulled out his gun, Bob shot it with the first bullet. The man cried in pain as he dropped the gun. He turned angry and ran at Bob and pulled out another gun. Without hesitation, Bob dropped him with one shot to the middle of his forehead.

The server screamed in terror and began crying uncontrollably. Bob went to her. "Relax, you're safe with me."

MORE TO COME......