Jack Daniels

                                                                              JACK DANIELS

    Ever since famine and disease wiped out sixty percent of the world’s underdeveloped countries it was not unusual for someone to live well past their one hundred and twentieth birthday.  That disease started the events that led up to scientists coming up with what was considered at the time a miracle cure or wonder drug.  NATO had entreated all the power countries to contribute billions of dollars to develop some sort of vaccine to protect the rest of the world from the rapidly spreading disease.  It had started in Haiti and quickly spread from there.  Some believed some sort of super virus had developed from the aftermath of an earthquake that had struck there.  There had been a lack of power and poor sanitary conditions that could have easily become a breeding ground for a virus to spread and mutate.  Many other people believed it was some type of bio-terrorist group responsible for it.  With-in three years those countries were declared uninhabitable.  Those who fled to other countries to escape the death and suffering carried the virus with them and soon outbreaks had spread into every country on earth.  The vaccine had been developed sometime in the fourth year and was produced in mass quantities.  There had been no time for testing and luckily there had been no side effects from the drug.  That is unless you could consider living an extra forty or fifty years a negative side effect.  The drug not only eradicated the disease but it also gave the immune system some sort of super boost that kept everyone healthy beyond their normal life spans.  So now it was pretty normal to know your great great-great grandfather and grandmother.  With new babies coming and no seniors dying off, it didn’t take long to run out of living space.  Eventually it would all balance out, but for now something had to be done.  Some countries decided to make more room by building up or building underground.

    In North America each state had made individual decisions as to whether to build up or build down.  In many states giant cities were built below with steel reinforced ceilings and walls.  Massive ventilation and heating systems were constructed along with water, sewer and power plants that ran off of the solar energy plants above.  If it wasn’t for the lack of changing weather and seasons there were few clues that you were underground.  Some areas had high rises while other areas had quaint little houses with their pristine lawns and well maintained landscapes.  Electric cars and trucks were the only type of vehicles allowed below.  Not that you could see a fuel operated vehicle outside of a museum or if you were an antique car collector, but the bylaws which had been written years earlier had banned them because of the toxic fumes they emitted.  There were only a few trees planted back then since there was no need for shade down there.  The parks had them for esthetic reasons but other than that the only other trees were planted by homeowners for fruit or simply because they liked the way they looked.  Over the years, squirrels, birds and the usual insects made their way down adding to the natural order of things.

    The states that decided to build up were mostly in areas that were considered warm climate states.  They had intricate webbings of interchanges overhead that led to the various mini cities that sat above the areas surrounding large metropolises.  In some areas there were no quaint little houses nor were there high rises.  There were rows and rows of circular roads nestled between rows of identical single story building similar to motels connected to each other forming one horseshoe inside another and then inside another.  They all had solar panels on their roofs to provide energy for the power and the irrigation system.  Grass and other vegetation couldn’t survive up there without it.  Even with the small lawns and backyards some people thought they looked more like military barracks than homes.  Other areas were more spacious with homes built on platforms staggered on different levels and suspended from the huge steel beams above which supplied them with water and septic.  These homes were owned by the wealthy.  Public consensus was that it made them feel superior allowing them to look down on everyone else.  They were in fact beautiful homes.  Every feature imaginable came with them.  They had their own private gondolas large enough to transport two vehicles at once.  Each home was built completely different. Some were built of wood while others were built of stone or brick or any combination world renowned architects could think of.  The interiors, now that was another story.  Each one of them were designed by the most talented and influential designers in the industry.  The one thing that remained constant with the others was the solar roofs they needed for power.  The poor usually lived directly below the mini cities.  Those areas were less desirable since very little sunlight made it through to the ground making it cold and damp most of the time. Mold and mildew grew rampant.  The residents would complain of health issues to the local government who in turn would contact the state to request help.  The health department would clean up one area and then move on to the next.  Within a year the mold would be back and the cycle would start all over again.  The residents couldn’t understand how the government could stop the most deadly disease known to mankind but couldn’t get rid of mold.  Sometimes when the residents thought the health department was dragging their feet, a riot would break out and the police department would come break it up.

    That’s how Jack Daniels got involved. His parents gave him that name.  Carly and Matthew Daniels had tried unsuccessfully for years to have a child.  When Carly’s sister Megan was first diagnosed with the virus her main concern became her baby son Jack.  Jack was named after his father who was also named after his father.  She made sure that if she should die and her husband should die before Jack was grown, Jack would go live with Carly, the youngest of three sisters.  Fortunately the vaccine came in time and she survived the scare.  Life went on and Carly later married a man she met a work.  That’s where she was when she got the call.  Her sister and brother in-law had died instantly in a head on crash.  Jack was ten when he went to live with his aunt and uncle.  He was rebellious and after a few years Carly thought maybe if they adopted him he would feel more loved and accepted.  Jack Daniels was not an ideal name to have with its notability as whiskey but Jack was his father and grandfather’s name.  Daniels was his new family’s name.  Carly and Matt treated him like a king.  He fought it in the beginning because he thought he would betray his birth parents if he loved his new ones.  His coach had sat him down one day after class and explained that he understood because he was adopted too.  He assured Jack that this is what his parents would want for him.  That’s why they made sure that he would go to them in particular if anything happened to them.  In his heart he knew the coach was right and he went home that night and hugged them both and they were a true family ever since.  Of course they had their ups and downs and she was worried sick when he joined the police force.  They were relieved a little though when he made detective.

    Today he was investigating a murder that had occurred during a riot in a small town just outside of Miami.  As soon as he drove into town he could see the dark shade created by the mini city sitting above most of the town.  When he stepped out of his vehicle he could immediately feel the dampness in the air.  He looked around with dismay.  This had once been a charming little town with the promise of growth before the virus hit.  Now this was just another small town crippled by the nearsightedness of the government. 

“All in the name of progress” Jack thought as he sought out the woman who had reported the alleged murder.  He called it alleged because there was no victim found where she claimed the murder had taken place.  The first responders had done a brief walk through the area before calling in CSI.  Personally he thought it was a crock.  Dead bodies don’t just get up and walk away.  The woman said a man was shot yet CSI found no trace of blood.  After the third ring he listened closely at the door.  Not a peep came from inside.  After several minutes a neighbor came over and stated the Mrs. Farrell had gone out just ten minutes earlier.  She said she wouldn’t be back for a least a few hours so Jack decided he’d go home and come back in the morning.

    The next morning Jack was up before five.  He went out onto the veranda and looked out at the rolling waves of the ocean lapping at the pure white sandy beach.  He sat down in the white Adirondack, then pushed the buttons on the A2000 server and instantly has a perfect cup of coffee with cream and no sugar.  The warm breeze made him smile as he looked out at the water.  The sound and scents of the ocean always had a calming effect on him.  Just then his police radio crackled.  It was the captain telling him to forget about Mrs. Farrell and go back to Downs St.

“Damn” Jack mumbled.  He had hoped his disciplinary punishment was over.  It had been over the thirty days the captain said he was getting.  He had been told to drop a case and he refused to drop it.  Sometimes a case gets under your skin and you just can’t let it go.  This was one of those cases.  A young woman had been found murdered in area known as Little Havana.  No leads, no witnesses and no identification were found on her body.  Her fingerprints came back as a No Match.  Still there was something familiar about her but he couldn’t place it.  Word came from above to drop the investigation and filed her as a Jane Doe.  It was when he went back for a third time to question the residents of the apartment complex that the department caught wind of it.  Sarge was furious that he ignored a direct order and busted him to beat cop for at least thirty days.  After he was sent to question Mrs. Farrell he thought he was done with it.  He knew he was wrong as soon as Sarge told him to go back to Down St.  It could’ve been worse. At least the Down St area was in a good section of Miami.  He also knew it was no coincident that Lil Havana was on the opposite side of the city. 

“Well maybe tomorrow” He thought half heartedly.

He grabbed his coffee and headed toward the interior of the apartment.

“Off “He called over his shoulder and stepped inside.  Suddenly the 4D projector click off and the room went quiet.  There now stood a blank wall where the ocean scene had just been seconds earlier.  He walked into the bedroom and stood in front of the closet.  There was a circular vent on the floor and an oval dome overhead which looked like an oversized lamp shade.

“Cleanse “He ordered and a ray of light shone down on him and up from beneath him.  He felt the tingling sensation of the light sterilizing his body as he raised his arm and widened his stance.  When the cycle was complete he reached into the closet and pulled out the neatly pressed uniform, shoes and under garments then dressed himself.  He checked himself in the mirror and frowned at the uniform.  He had always been proud of the uniform but he had worked so hard to become a detective.  He had gotten dozens of commendations over the years.  He had gotten the 4D projector with his promotion bonus when he made detective. It let him forget he really lived a 2 room efficiency apartment in the heart of downtown. On occasion if it was a quiet night he could hear the horns of the cruise ships coming in to port off in the distance.

He pulled out his cell phone.  “Meet me for breakfast…Sally’s...forty minutes…sees you there.”

Jack spun around and headed for the parking garage.  When he reached the patrol car he got in and spoke to the navigation device. “Good Morning Officer 1378.”

“Good Morning Officer Daniels” The Carter 630XL replied. “What is your destination?”

“31 Down St”, Jack mumbled.   

      The L.E.D. thermometer flashed ninety degrees.  He thought they could have at least put him on mobile patrol.  Walking the beat was a job for rookies.

After arriving Jack started his daily routine of scanning each vehicle with his hand scanner and relaying any violations to the main computer. The city was very strict on meter hogging since more than seventy percent of the cars needed to plug into the electric meters for a charge.  The remainder of the vehicles were mostly solar powered and could park practically anywhere as long as there was sunlight.  The owner’s picture would appear on the screen along with their bio.  This one happened to be a pretty brunette.  He held up the scanner and took an extra long look at her.

“That one’s a beauty.” Jack turned to the man speaking behind him. 

“She sure is.”  He said with a devilish grin.

“Come on, give me her address.  Who’s your best friend?  You know I’m harmless.  At least tell me where she works.”

“No can do good buddy!  Sorry.”

Pat slapped him on the back and laughed.  “Well you can’t blame a guy for trying.  Come on let’s get some breakfast.”

Jack walked with him up the street to Sally’s Diner.  The floorboards creaked as they walked across the room to a table set towards the back. 

“I can’t believe you like this dump.” Pat remarked.

“It’s got character.”

“It’s got something alright.  I just hope it doesn’t crawl into my food.”

Pat looked around the diner in disgust.  The walls were a faded tan, clean yet yellowed a bit.  The floors were constructed of scuffed wood.  The exact type of wood, he could only guess at since wood was no longer available for building or for much of anything else for that matter. 

They placed their order and sat quietly for a few awkward minutes.  Finally Jack broke the silence. “Okay so ask.”

“Well since you brought it up.  What the hell happened?  One day you’re a level five detective with more commendations than President Collins, the next day you’re on parking patrol.  What’s up?”

I didn’t play by their rules.”

“Yeah so what’s new, you never did.”  Pat scratched his head.  “You must have stepped on some pretty big toes.”

“Well the problem is I don’t know whose.” He leaned closer to Pat.  “Listen, every working man and woman gets a car issued to them. Their rank and income determines the type of car a person gets, right?  So tell me, how does the janitor at Wallace Insurance building get issued a Lexus 3000ZX?”

“Wow how did you find that out?”

“A few months ago I was looking into the death of a young woman who I suspected might be a stripper. I was showing her picture around at the locate strip clubs and the Lexus was parked in front of Kelly’s Strip Club.  I scanned it just out of curiosity.  I used to get some of my best leads that way.  I figured I was going to pull up some cheating husband on the scanner and who knows, that little bit of info can go a long way sometimes. It surprised the hell out of me when this guy’s face showed up on the scanner.  It said he was an executive with 10 years on the job, but I’ve been to the Wallace building dozens of times.  Up until three months ago, this clown Simon Spencer was a janitor.”

“Okay so this guy got a quick promotion, what does this have to do with you getting demoted?”

The waitress brought over their food and set it down in front of them.  Jack took a quick mouthful of eggs and smiled.  “I do love Sally’s cooking.”

Pat was getting impatient.  “So come on. What does one have to do with the other?”

“The janitor got me thinking so I started investigating John Wallace.  Wallace is the one who reports his employees rank to the DOT.  I figured the janitor must have something pretty big on Wallace in order to get him to rank him a 20.  Hell, I work for the frigging government and I only rank a 9.”

“Yeah, and that’s an awful big raise from janitor to executive.” Pat added.

“That’s what I thought, so I took a look at Wallace’s personal finances.”

Pat’s mouth dropped. “How did you get Greggs to authorize that?”

“I didn’t!  That’s why I’m here. I have a sneaky suspicion that that’s the real reason I got demoted. ”

Jack pushed his plate away and patted his stomach.  “Well, I’m done.  You ready to go?”  He got up and headed towards the door.

Pat shook his head and slid his card into the slot on the table.  “Oh don’t bother,” he said with definite sarcasm, “I’ll take care of the bill.”

As soon as they were outside Jack slapped him on the back.  “Thanks, old pal.”

They walked for about a block before Jack spoke. “I could use your help on this.”

“I knew you wanted something.  Sorry old pal, but I was kicked off the force, remember.  I’m through with police work. “He stopped for a moment and shook his head.  “You’re not going to take no for an answer are you?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Okay.” Pat bargained.  “On one condition….you got to give me the name and address on that brunette back there.”

Jack reached in his pocket and pulled out the printout of her registration and handed it to Pat.

“Hey this has yesterdays date on it.  Jerk! You set me up.”

Jack walked away chuckling.  He would love to be there when Pat met up with Cassie Micheals.  His history with Cassie was memorable to say the least.  He was a rookie back then.  It was his first stakeout.  Vice no less.  The object of the investigation was Cherry Wine…Aka…Charlotte Micheals. She was an alleged Madame, known for allegedly providing girls for the rich and the connected.  It was his third night and he had more than enough evidence to warrant an arrest.  The following night the bust took place.  It occurred with text book execution, swift and flawless.  The Madame and fourteen girls were taken into custody.  His captain patted him on the back for a job well done.  Without his great investigation none of this would have been possible.  Later that night he drove back to the tavern to stare at the place where it all went down.  He was on his way to quick advancement and he knew it.  While looking around at the plain looking building he noticed a figure breeze past one of the upstairs windows.  “Damn!” he sputtered. “We missed one!”

Within seconds he was upstairs with his gun drawn. He crept room by room looking for a fifteenth girl.  How did I miss one? I was sure there were only fourteen girls.  No sooner had he thought it then he was lying flat on his back looking up at the most beautiful young girl he had ever seen. 

Embarrassed and weaponless he sprang to his feet.  “Who the hell are you?” 

“You broke into my room!” she screamed. “Who the hell are you?”

He could see this was a girl was young and barely a teen.  Even with the baggy sweatpants and oversized t-shirt, he could tell she would soon blossom into a beautiful young woman.  Right now however, he was talking to a definite minor with a hell of a chip on her shoulders.

“I’m a police officer and you’re this close to an assault charge!”  That’s who I am, now who are you?”

      Well it turned out she was the Madame’s daughter.  She was kept away from her mother’s lifestyle and was well versed in self-defense incase one of the seedy customers found their way upstairs.  Oddly enough over the years they had developed a close friendship.  He had always felt like her big brother and she always thought of him as a close friend since she didn’t feel she needed a protective big brother. She was probably right.  Cassie was all grown up now with a really great job on Down St with the States Attorney’s office.  Pat was in for the surprise of his life if he gets out of line with that little lady.  Jack chuckled again and headed back to his meter duties. 

      As darkness approached, Jack sat on the front stoop of his apartment complex.  The night air always seemed to help him see things more clearly.  What was the connection between that janitor and John Wallace?  Either he had something on Wallace or he did something for him. Either way it must have been big.  He knew he couldn’t go anywhere near Simon Spencer, that’s why he called Pat.  Pat was the best PI in the business.  If there’s information out there, Pat would find it.  There wasn’t a deleted, shredded or incinerated file that Pat could not recover.  If it was a paper file, someone must have written it. If it was a computer file someone must have viewed it and if it was an event that someone saw, then Pat could eventually see it also.  He had a photographic memory and he was a master of hypnosis.  Jack smiled because he knew that Simon Spencer would tell Pat everything without even knowing it.  Jack couldn’t help envy Pat’s ability.  Pat was no saint but Jack knew he would never use his gift for his own advantage.  Once when he was a teen he let a few friends pressure him into finding out what questions would be asked for the math test the following day.  Pat snuck in and took a quick look at the test papers in the Mr. Hamilton’s desk while the other boys kept the teacher distracted in the hall.  After school he wrote the answers down and gave them out to his friends.  Upon reviewing the test Mr. Hamilton decided to change one of the questions.  After grading the test he noticed that five of the boys got the same question wrong.  He also realized that it was however the correct answer to the original question.  When he questions the boys no one squealed on him.  He was however afraid that they would.  He couldn’t eat or sleep for several days until it all blew over.  It was a feeling he didn't like.  Soon after he told his friends he didn’t have his ability any longer.  All through college and two failed marriages he kept his ability to himself.  It wasn’t until he was able to help the police solve a grisly crime did Jack catch on to his gift.  Jack kept his secret and in appreciation Pat would help him out from time to time.  Sure his gift as Jack called it, helped him become the best PI around, he still used it strictly for business. Suddenly the ringtone of his phone startled him out of his thoughts.  It was Pat.

“I got bad news buddy.  Simon Spencer was killed last week in a hit and run.  There were no witnesses.”

“Wonderful!” Jack replied sarcastically.  “That’s absolutely wonderful!”.