She passed on these instructions to Sullivan, who didn't show the slightest sign of wondering but simply nodded.
He took a few little detours, one would hardly expect, kept of the interstate for a while but went direction Sheboygan.
At 03:45, the burner rang and Cynthia picked up.
"Put me on speaker" asked the voice.
"Done"said Cynthia.
"How far out are you?"
"Less then 15, we approach the 43" answered the chief.
"Nice. Then slow down now and meet two friendlies at the parking lot of the Quality Inn at zero four"
"Understood"replied Sullivan.
And there they were, two police cars, flashing Sullivan a quick sign of recognition, which he answered the same way. The first car went in front of Sullivan, the second behind, and then the little convoy drove to the Police station, where Ratherberg and 10 officers awaited them, heavily armed and with bullet proof gear. The Sullivans were rushed in, covered by the officers. And then Rathenberg relaxed somewhat and greeted the two:
"Nice to see you again, Ma'am, what a pleasure. I apologize for the dramatics but I was under orders and when I hear it is the two of you that are in danger I wouldn't waste a second! Can I get you a little breakfast or something? I was told we would get word within the next few hours, so let's get comfortable, shall we?"
Rathenberg brought the Sullivans into the 'war room' where a little breakfast was layed out for them. Rathenberg apologized for the simplicity of it and was reliefed to see that Cynthia did indeed appreciate the gesture and clearly was grateful for his efforts.
Rathenberg asked "I don't mean to pray or anything but if there is anything you can tell me about what's going on, I'd be happy to hear whatever much or little you can tell me. I got a call from Washington two hours ago, all top priority and very hush hush and got orders to prepare for doomsday to keep you safe here and await further instructions. they flew some team down here, used our heli pad, but we never saw anyone, only received word and orders. Chilling."
The sheriff raised an eyebrow "Honestly, we don't know much either, just that Cholly somehow is in danger after having given some interview that never got published. I don't even know if him being in danger is even related to the interview. But I do know one thing, the shit that went down with Starlington back then, I want none of that here. Whatever I can do to keep us safe out here, you know."
"Yeah, I hear you, same here. Oh, man, you think it's related, the Starlington tragedy and this now?"
"Could be, I for one do think so. One way or another, you know. Not sure if we'll ever get to understand the full picture though. But the way I see it, the days were we can just lean back and enjoy the good air out here are long over, crime is connected, and whatever goes on somewhere else will somehow spread and reach even into the most remote corners - and that's why your and my job has gotten a lot harder"
"I'd love to make some snide comment on you being awefully philosophical but truth be told, I couldn't agree more. When we worked here with Cholly and that smart girl with the New York accent, it dawned on me that the good old days are over and that the way we gotta work has changed for good. No way back. As much as we still want to think that there's a city world and a countryside and that the two are like parallel universes, they are freaking not, that Rodo case was a wake up call."
The three sat there, at four thirty in the morning, looking in their coffee mugs and knew that they just admitted to a truth, that people prefer to blend out. A truth that is no fun to admit.
Like looking in the mirror and seeing wrinkles and grey hair.
"Do we even know which outfit is at work here?" asked Sullivan.
"Your guess is as good as mine. I was thinking homeland..."
"I thought so at first, too but they tend to be more obvious, with fancy black suburbans convoys and such. Well, I guess it doesn't matter anyways."
"More coffee?"
"Yes, please!" answered Cynthia, who so far kept silent. "Thank you so much, chief Rathenberg!" she added gratefully, lightening the mood in the room and making the two chiefs feel much better.
At five o'clock Rathenberg got word from a DC number that didn't bother to state a name or office. The voice on the line declared that the danger is over and that there are 4 casualties, two unidentified men got shot at the Sullivan's home, one near Cholly's trailer and one trying to escape from the evidence room of the sheriff department in Manitowoc. Rathenberg would get the paperwork but the bodies would be handled by the team that handled the operations and no further actions or questions would be necessary. Rathenberg knew what that meant and said "Yes, ma'am, I fully understand. No worries, glad to oblige and if I may add, I am happy to hear it all worked out. Thank you."
While Rathenberg spoke on the phone, Cynthia looked at a message she received on the burner:
NOT OVER YET BUT YOU ARE OK TO GO
Cynthia slowly exhauled, looked at her husband and gave him a slight nod and a smile.
THIS SHORT STORY IS A PART OF THE LAKE MICHIGAN INVESTIGATIONS PROJECT BY K.H. KAYSER & S.J. SLEGER. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © RIPPLEDIP PUBLISHING LLC 2020. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY OF THE AUTHORS.