by BEAGLE BOY
Part 2
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"So he was kidnapped? And abused at the hands of the kidnappers? I never knew this," said Shady, shaking her head. The rest of the room just sat there in silence. "The kidnapping might be enough to cause night terrors, but the abuse just ..."
"I know," muttered Carggaphile. "But he never broke. After a week of the abuse and torture, he found an opportunity to escape. But not before sabatoging the computer system. Unfortunately, the complex was wired to the computer system, and went up in a
ball of flames once the computer started to malfunction. He was found, dazed, wandering aimlessly, about 50 miles from his college."
"All for a computer program," asked Newcru. "I still find that hard to believe."
Carggaphile then sat down and started typing away. He began cross-referencing the somewhat sketchy information Allen had given him. He did find a two supposedly unrelated stories on a kidnapping, and a utility building explosion due to a freak accident that seemed to correspond to the information he had. There were supposedly 4 workers killed in the explosion.
"But what kind of program would cause somebody or someTHING to go through all that trouble," asked Lash.
He was answered by a knock on the door that caused all four of them to jump. Nobody knew they were there. Who could be disturbing them?
"Be careful," warned Tsarin, tossing a stack of papers on the table. "The computer monitors all types of access. Here is some of the information you want. I've taken the liberty of leaving messages for Paul, Lucien, and Brian/Bellbookcandle. I assume you want this kept quiet. I haven't told them why, just that they need to talk to me or you, Shady. I'm not real sure about it myself. But if you are digging in Beagle's past, it's a start."
"Why those three," asked Carggaphile.
"If you cross check the stories, the only thing that stands out is the fact that the crown jewels went on display a day after the explosion. It's a longshot. Beagle does have a knack for computers. And the computerized security system is the only thing AT THIS POINT that gives any link to your searches," continued Tsarin. "I have some more searches going, but I don't know when or if they will bring back anything of use."
Almost on cue, the computerized voice came over the speakers in the monitor room. "Tsarin, dear?" It giggled. "I have finished your search. Please come by and see me as soon as you can. It's so lonely down here."
Lash grinned. "Cobalt been watching the old video's from Beagle's collection again, hasn't he? What was that called? 'Space Trek'? 'Star Trip'? Something like that, anyway."
Tsarin just grumbled as he left the room to see what information the computer found. He promised to let them know if anything important turned up.
"At this point," began Shady, "I am open to suggestions. We can give Beagle time to see if he is willing to talk about it. Or we can continue to dig and see what sort of information we may stumble across. There is a chance that he won't open up to us. And during the last week, he's lost weight. I have a feeling he is under a tremendous amount of stress, and if it is not taken control of in the next few days, I fear he may have a full breakdown. And talking to him about this may cause him to shut down totally.I would like to get your feelings on this before we proceed."
There was a lot of shaking of heads, but very little conversation. The only recurring thought was the lack of both options and time. Something needed to be done. Finally, Carggaphile cleared his throat.
"I hate to sound cold. But if we do the right thing, the there is no problem. If we do the wrong thing, we just send him on down the path he is already heading. If we leave him alone, then it may be too late to do anything in another day or two. I don't see where we have a choice. We hit it with a multiple approach. Somebody try to talk to Beagle. And find Piddlin Pup. Somebody else needs to do more research on
what happened. And, if worse comes to worse, I suggest we visit East Texas to see what happened. It may push Beagle over the edge, but it may also shock him back to reality, and give him something to focus on as he deals with his problems. Right now, the worst case scenario is no better than us doing nothing."
Maybe it was the most logical choice. Maybe it was the lateness of the hour. Or the fact that sleep was only a fond memory. But the four agreed. Newcru, assigned with finding Piddlin Pup, raided the refridgerator for a package of graham crackers. If the Pup was in a two mile radius, he would could hear a package of graham crackers being opened, and nothing better get in his way. Shady agreed to work with Tsarin to see what information they could come up with. Carggaphile agreed to make reservations for East Texas for the five of them. That left Lash to try to talk to Beagle.
Newcru began walking the halls crinkling the graham cracker wrapper, and eating a few as he went. Sure enough, he heard Piddlin Pup whimpering in the television room. And then he heard the familiar jingle-jingle of his tags. He leaned over to scoop up Pup, but as he did, Pup grabbed the crackers and ran back in the television room. Newcru just shook his head and followed, albeit a bit more slowly. With Piddlin Pup located, things just got a little easier.
Carggaphile managed to get 5 tickets. If Candace, Lash, Mark, Michael, and Allen were to be heading to East Texas, the they would have to get moving. The only tickets would be leaving in 6 hours. That didn't leave a lot of time to make a decision, one way or another. Hoping he wouldn't need it, he began packing. Notes to the other three about the reservations, and the lack of time were left on their doors. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to happen, and things were going to start crumbling around the team.
Shady managed to make it down to see Tsarin as Brian and Lucien both reported in. Paul was in the process of getting some background on the various world tours made by the Crown Jewels. However, the prognosis was grim. If someone HAD tried to steal
them, then they weren't successful. And if they weren't successful, then chances of finding any information was a longshot at best. It would be burried deep in Scotland Yard. The computer informed Tsarin of another hit on his searches. Shady and Tsarin bid Brian and Lucien farewell, and they, in turn, wished their friends the best of luck. As the two turned to see the latest results, Tsarin felt his heart drop, and
Shady let out a gasp as her heart fell as well. This couldn't be. How could any of this make sense.
Raising a trembling hand, Shady whispered, "If this is true...." But she was unable to continue.
Tsarin put his arm around her shoulder. "We have to tell Lard Lad," he said, voice beginning to break.
Shady could only nod.
Checking his watch, Lash decided that if, by some chance, Beagle kept to his regular schedule, his alarm would go off any minute. He waited patiently. Sure enough, the alarm began beeping, and abruptly stop.
"Beagle. Allen," Lash said, knocking on the door. "It's me. Are you awake?"
"Yeah," came the reply. "In fact, I was wondering how long it would take you to come back."
Lash walked in as soon as the doors opened. Finally, he thought, things are getting back to normal. He stopped as soon as he saw Beagle.
"What is it," groaned Lard Lad. "It had BETTER be important to get me up this early!"
"It's Shady and Tsarin. Can we come in?"
"Sure," yawned Lard Lad. As the two entered the room, he knew something was very wrong. "What is it?"
Shady explained as much of the situation as they knew. She told of the meeting. And of the research done on Beagle's past. And of Tsarin's information queries. With that, she handed over the latest results of Tsarin's query.
"Is this some sort of joke? If so, it's not very funny. And it's too damned early," warned Lard Lad. But the tears in Shady's eyes told him otherwise. "I refuse to believe that the friend we know as Beagle Boy is capable of this. It just has to be a mix up. Allen COULDN'T be the seriel killer they've been searching for all of these years!! That's ridiculous. It's just a bad police sketch."
"From at least a dozen eye-witnesses and a couple of serurity cameras? Lard Lad, I agree. But can we take that chance," asked Tsarin.
"Gather the team. We've got work to do. Somebody keep an eye on Allen."
"Lash," gasped Shady.
Facing the barrel of an antique Walther .38, from World War II, Lash was frozen where he stood. There was only a cold emptiness on Allen's face. No recognition. Only a faint smile.
"At last, it is finished. And I am finally rid of you."