by Nova Rain
Crap…
Watching Michael’s swagger, a mixed sense of disappointment, frustration, and guilt struck me. I had fallen victim of my enthusiasm. I had listened to the locals blabbering about their everyday routines, which was a lot different from what a city person’s was. They weren’t in any hurry to get anything done. They paced themselves, enjoying things New Yorkers and every major city’s residents had almost forgotten, like early lunches and cups of coffee with friends on weekdays.
My fascination had cost me Michael’s company. Alas, my time with him that day wouldn’t be counted in hours, but in minutes. It was a shame… I had been thinking about things to do with him before his departure, but whatever plan I’d hatched had gone right out the window.
Upon his return, the smile he had on reminded me of Penny’s words:
“It’s the bad feelings he tries to hide.”
Her point was loud and clear. I wasn’t expecting him to be on the verge of tears, but he couldn’t have been happy to leave me, either. Michael was putting on a brave face. Asking him to drop this crossed my mind. I didn’t appreciate pretenders. I preferred people who would demonstrate their emotions no matter the circumstances. In Jake’s presence however, this wasn’t possible. I wanted this conversation to be private. Confronting him in front of his friend would embarrass him. I had a choice to avoid an argument, and I took it.
With the roar of jet engines rattling the windows of the Wrangler, Michael pulled over just a few yards before the gate of the airport. I joined him and Jake outside, my heart jumping in my throat.
“Will you please call me when you land?” I requested, halting behind the trunk.
“Wow, it speaks!” He chuckled, setting his suitcase down on the ground. “I’m just messing with you. You haven’t said a word since we left the hotel.”
“Michael, I admire your ability to keep your spirits so high, but…” I faltered. “How can you be so cheerful? We won’t see each other again until Wednesday.”
“I’m not cheerful,” he rejected my claim, his smile fading. “I’m just trying to lighten the atmosphere. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” I confessed, his own confession sending waves of delight throughout my body. He tilted his head down and angled his lips, his warm hands cupping gently around my face. His fingers caressed my cheekbones, generating a crazy idea in my head.
Take me back to New York. We’ll come back here together.
The idea died out just as fast as it was born. How? Michael ended our kiss with another soft caress on my cheeks.
I moved around the large vehicle as he disappeared through the gate. In spite of the loud noise of truck engines, I didn’t get back in the Wrangler. I wanted to be outside, because it was closer to him and the thing he loved most.
I leaned my back against the passenger door, eager to catch a glimpse of his airplane in the dark. The ambient noise got even worse as the spin of the engines gained in speed. But then, the picture of his handsome face and the warmth of his voice somehow covered it up. The Beluga was taxiing down the runway, its red and white lights flashing, and all I could see was a pair of darkened eyes. Right below his cheekbones, his short beard adorned cheeks and jaw alike.
Witnessing the nose of the plane lifting, my vision was blurred. By no means had I missed this all too familiar sting in my eyes. But this time, no dream of mine had gone up in flames. I didn’t feel that grueling pain in my chest. I wasn’t lost in a dark abyss, with no hope of finding a light. A flame of anticipation was burning in my heart, a flame that would turn into a roaring inferno upon Michael’s return to Ontario.
Chapter Fifteen
Michael
A rainy morning dawned over New York City, worsening my mood. Jake and I were on our way to “Gordon & Associates,” one of the most prestigious law firms in downtown Manhattan. To me, this move was premature. We suspected that United had left us that damn note at the hotel reception. Yet, that was all we had.
Suspicion.
Evidence? No.
Nobody had approached either of us. Their intentions were still unclear. Were they going to prosecute Jake and me? Was that note an attempt to intimidate us? There was another scenario, too. It could be that United wanted to flush us out. Perhaps they thought that I or my friend would try and contact them, in order to reach some sort of agreement.
In any case, appeasing Jake was the only reason why I had agreed to do this. He had been rambling on about seeking legal advice throughout the day before. And to top it all off, once the plane had reached altitude on the flight back home, he mentioned it again. In essence, my friend had become a monkey on my back. Talking to a successful attorney like Graham Gordon himself would help me get it off.
His firm’s huge, blue logo on the ground floor of a massive, steel tower greeted me while I shook the water off my coat. It took up almost the entire far wall, though people’s figures blocked it as they exited the elevators to the right.
“I did a little research on them yesterday,” Jake announced, the echoes of numerous footsteps filling my ears. “They have the highest acquittal rate in the State, and one of the highest in the country.”
“Really? You don’t say,” I assumed a sarcastic tone. “I thought they sucked at this. Why else would they charge six hundred bucks an hour? Better law firms cost twice as much.”
“Your attitude isn’t helping, man,” he complained, walking into the elevator.
“Look, I don’t want to argue,” I spoke in a serious voice. “Let’s just get this over with.”
I drew in a deep breath, finding myself crammed in the elevator. There had to be a dozen men and women in there, checking their watches or staring at the panel on my left. I pushed a youngster out of my way and went to the corner nearest the exit, because I was in the way of most of those people.
With the car stopping at the 36th floor, Jake and I stepped outside. The small amount of noise confused me. I had been to law firms before, and they were loud. Phones were ringing off the hook. Lawyers were amid heated phone or face-to-face conversations with clients. For some reason I couldn’t fathom, there were just two female voices in the air. One of them was thin and feminine, whereas the other was deeper.
Leaving the hallway behind me, I discovered the reason behind this relatively quiet floor. Two women were at the only desk. An elderly one was pointing at the screen, and a younger woman was sitting next to her, taking notes.
“Good morning. My name’s John Williams. My friend’s name is Michael Smith. We’re here to see Mr. Gordon,” Jake addressed them in a polite tone.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” the aging woman offered us a polite smile. “You may enter. He is expecting you.”
“Thanks.”
A shiny, light-brown door was just past their office space.
“Waste of time…” I told Jake as he knocked.
“Come on in.”
The man I came across wasn’t that different than what I had pictured in my mind. He was in his early sixties, the white hair at his temples and the wrinkles across his forehead giving away his age. On the other hand, the gray suit he had on indicated how brilliant he was at what he did. It featured a silk jacket lining, and its color was very vibrant, as if he’d never even washed it.
“Gentlemen, good morning,” he spoke in a hoarse voice. “Graham Gordon, at your service,” he introduced himself and exchanged handshakes with us. “Take a seat.”
“Mr. Gordon, how come there’s practically no one on this floor, other than those two women outside?” I asked, maintaining a steady tone.
“That’s because the rest of my staff is spread across the 30th and the 35th floor.” He replied, picking up his ballpoint pen. “Mary Beth is my secretary. She’s retiring in two months, and she’s training my new secretary, Karlie. Now…” He turned his eyes on Jake. “Mr. Williams, Mary Beth told me you insisted on meeting with me personally. She also said you wouldn’t give her any details, except the involvement of a major a
irline. I found it rather bizarre. Most of my clients have no problem disclosing the specifics of their case. Could you please shed some light on this?”
“First of all, don’t call me ‘Mr. Williams,’” Jake requested, raising his voice. “My name’s Jake Turner. This is Michael Compton.” He gestured at me. “I don’t know if you remember this, but we landed a triple-seven on a levee in New Orleans, back in January.”
Gordon let out a quick laugh. “Yes, I do. I recall your funeral as well. It was rather heartbreaking. My wife watched it on TV. For your information, she cried for you.”
“You don’t look so surprised,” I remarked, cocking an eyebrow.
“I’m not. I recognized you both when you walked in here. Gentlemen, I’ve been a lawyer for nearly forty years. I’ve seen things you won’t begin to imagine,” Gordon claimed, continuing to smile. “Why did you fake your death, Captain Turner?”
“United suspended me first and then threatened to prosecute me for damaging the aircraft,” Jake revealed, sorrow slowing his voice. “A legal battle would have taken too long and would have destroyed me. I wouldn’t stand a chance of working in the industry, even if I won. So, I asked my brother to hack into their database and alter my personal information. He did that for both of us. That’s how we were able to get jobs at ‘Swift Cargo.’ A couple of days ago, the receptionist gave us this,” he added, easing the note of the front pocket of his coat. “We figured it was from United.”
“I see,” Gordon said with a nod. “This case reminds me a lot of the Gimli Glider. Just like you, the crew of that Jumbo jet performed an incredible feat. They ran out of fuel at forty-one thousand feet but were told to land in an airstrip in Gimli. Captain Pearson…”
“I know all about Captain Bob Pearson and the Gimli Glider,” Jake interjected. “They taught us this case in flying school. My instructors failed to mention that Air Canada suspended him for six months. Quintal, his first officer, was suspended for two weeks for allowing the incident to happen. Mr. Gordon, with all due respect, we didn’t come here for a history lesson. I’d like to know what my colleague and I can do to protect ourselves against United Airlines.”
“At this stage, if your former bosses wish to destroy you, there is not much you can do.” The lawyer stated, pursing his lips. “Forget flight one-fifteen. If they can prove a connection between whoever hacked their database and you, you’re looking at five years in prison and a $250,000 fine. Your brother didn’t just access their data, Captain, which is a misdemeanor. He accessed it to commit fraud, and this automatically bumped up the hacking to a felony. My question to you is: ‘Did your brother make sure to cover his tracks’?”
“Ben’s a very skilled hacker. He did,” Jake’s voice oozed confidence. “So, you’re telling me we’re pretty much defenseless against them.”
“There are things you can do,” Gordon emphasized, interlocking his fingers over his desk. “Your girlfriend tried to expose United Airlines at your funeral, but it was all ‘he said,’ ‘she said.’ She didn’t have any evidence to back up her claims. If you can find proof of their intentions, you can do some serious damage to them. And I should point out that acquiring that proof should be done legally. For instance, you can’t hack into company email accounts to get it. Neither can you go over to their headquarters and tape them. Both of those would be inadmissible in court. The former would be a crime, and you’d need their consent to do the latter. Get them to confess someplace public, and you’re home free.”
“They’d never do that,” I spoke my mind. “They’re too smart to admit they wanted to terminate us.”
“It all depends on your approach, Captain Compton.” Gordon pointed out, shifting his attention to me. “Still, it’s too early for you to contemplate your next move. Make sure it was United that dropped you that note, and not some, I don’t know, disgruntled girlfriend. Then, we can talk in detail about what you can and what you cannot do.”
“Thank you.” Jake nodded in appreciation and rose from his seat. Another round of handshakes followed, before he and I walked out of Gordon’s office with our tails between our legs. I was right in telling him that we should have verified the sender of that note, but I couldn’t gloat. We were both in the same boat, facing the same hardships. This wasn’t the time for “I told you so.” Sadly, for him and me, that waiting period I had been dreading was upon us.
Chapter Sixteen
Michael
For hours the rest of that day, I struggled to keep my cool.
The uncertainty had affected me. I didn’t have the will to do much. Even going out for a drink didn’t sound so appealing. However, this situation was weighing down on Jake much more. Just minutes after our visit to “Gordon & Associates,” he started coming up with ideas to get some inside information.
Firstly, he suggested having his brother Ben hack into their corporate emails. Despite the lawyer’s advice against it, he thought it would be a nice way for us to know what United had been up to. And I would have agreed, had it not been for one, small detail. Yes, Ben had some serious skills; no one could deny that. He had done a wonderful job at altering our work records. Nonetheless, there was always a chance of him leaving a trail. The discovery of that trail could link him to Jake, and this would guarantee a prison sentence for all three of us.
Jake’s second idea was hiring a private investigator. A person that asked questions could put United in a difficult position. Yet, in my opinion, this was another bad call. If United hadn’t sent that note, they would start suspecting things, things that they wouldn’t think were possible. For all they knew, Jake had been killed in a horrific car accident. Someone showing up on their doorstep, asking them if they still intended to press charges on someone onboard flight one-fifteen could well backfire.
Needless to say, the reason for his erratic behavior had a name.
Penny Green.
He had been forced out of her life once. He didn’t want to suffer that pain again. I could understand that, but he had to understand me, too. Jake was my friend. I couldn’t stand hearing him speak like this. Unless he wanted to make a mistake he would regret, he had to remember the pilot whose cool head had saved hundreds of lives in the past.
The night had fallen over New York City when we arrived at Penny’s apartment building in Brooklyn. I said “goodnight” to him and advised him to have a long conversation with her. I was just glad I wouldn’t be around to hear it.
I switched the headlights of my Lexus back on, eager to get a good night’s sleep. But, as I was about to start the engine, the little available light exposed two, male figures, turning in the direction of the building. One of them quickened his pace and jogged past the other. Jake was still at the entry door, waiting for his girlfriend to buzz him in. The skin on my face tingled with fear when the second man lengthened his strides. Their newfound sense of urgency convinced me that they weren’t up to anything good. In seconds, my hunch came true. I heard one of them call out Jake’s last name. The last thing I saw was Jake turning to them, the one closer pulling his arm back.
“Shit!” I groaned and gripped the door handle with hasty fingers. Jumping out, I sprinted off, a fire of determination spreading through me. With the cold air against my face, I closed the distance, my gaze fixed on Jake. In a split second, I realized I had missed some of the action. One of his assailants was staggering backwards. The other was toe-to-toe with my friend as his accomplice reeled in pain.
“Duck!” I cried out, lunging towards the guy in front of Jake. With my fingertips locking on to his jacket, I used my weight to knock him off balance. His body hit the ground with a thud, my friend running past us. I propped myself up on my knees, as I heard more cries of agony tearing the stillness of the night.
“Two against one…” I growled, hooking my arm around his neck. “You motherfuckers are so brave.” Locking his head in the crook of my elbow and chest, I flexed my arm muscles. “Now, who the fuck sent you?”
“Fuck you!” He grumbl
ed, reaching his hand up to my forearm as I looked back. Jake had knocked his opponent down and was kicking his midsection, forcing louder groans of agony from him.
“Do you hear that?” I snarled, grabbing a fistful of his hair. I yanked his head back, my adrenaline hitting the ozone layer. “Should I do the same to you, or should I just choke you to death?”
“I don’t know,” he gasped out, his eyes clenched shut. “They just said you guys go way back.”
Way back…
I never thought that those two, simple words would have had such a deep meaning. Neither could I ever have believed that they would hold such valuable information. I looked up at Jake, my chest heaving. Our eyes met in the dark as the realization hit us both. We had discovered who had dropped us that note. Perhaps we didn’t want to believe it up until then, but now, we didn’t have a choice.
“Should we let them go?” I posed the question, maintaining eye contact with him.
“Jake!” Penny’s voice drew our attention. She had just cleared the staircase and was hurtling towards her boyfriend. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“These two pricks jumped him,” I informed her. “They just confessed who put them up to this.”
“Yeah,” Jake said on an exhale. “It’s the people we’ve been suspecting all along.”
“Oh, my God…” she let out a whisper of disbelief, running her fingers through her hair.
“We can’t let them go,” he told me, averting his gaze from her. “They may know things that could prove valuable to us.”
“Alright, call the cops,” I urged in ironic tones. “Tell them how you and I got our new jobs. I’m sure they’ll love that story.”
“We may not be able to call the police, but we can call one cop,” Penny claimed, piquing my interest. “It’s Lieutenant Dwayne Reynolds. He works at the 19th Precinct and is very good friends with my editor.”
