The Premise

by Andy Crossfield

  "Well, I didn’t know we needed a plan until just now." Jack replied. "I’m glad Kyle is coming in tonight to help, but we need police protection. Can you call the detective in charge of your case? Tell him you have some new information and you’d like him to come by."

  "Okay, Jack, but they don’t have a very good record of returning my calls. I have two calls in to him already. I'd feel safer if we figure out how to protect ourselves in case those guys come back."

  "How about getting the front door fixed? I know we’d all feel better knowing we beefed it up." Jack said as he found the number for a handyman in the area. He had just finished setting an appointment when his phone's text tone went off. The head of security at their Vegas hotel had recognized the logo Jack had sent, and Willis was asking questions.

  ‘I think they ransacked Colleen’s lab here in Chicago– keep me posted on anything you find’ Jack replied.

  Down the hall, Colleen was engrossed in her work and didn’t notice the slight figure in her doorway until he coughed politely. "Sam! Come in Sam, it’s so good to see you!" Colleen said, rounding her desk and gushing. All her attention made him blush and pull away. Something was wrong.

  "Sam, are you alright?" she asked.

  "I can’t stay, matter a’ fact I got some bad news I guess, and to say goodbye." Sam stood there stock still, looking down at his shoes.

  "Bad news? What happened Sam? Are you all right?"

  "It’s not me," Sam said, still looking at the floor and fighting back tears. "Its Boomer, and Carlos, and Lorenzo… they’re…. they’re…."

  "They’re what, Sam?"

  "Dead."

  "What? How?"

  "Winston had 'em smoked."

  "An, an I can’t come here no more, nobody can what don’t want to get the same."

  Sam stood just inside Colleen’s destroyed office, looking like a little kid, unsure of his next move and fighting a battle within him whether to run or stay.

  "Are you sure? Sam, why would Winston kill members of his own gang?"

  Sam looked up, his eyes searching Colleen’s for help, but realizing she had no help to offer. His shoulders slumped at the realization and he turned to leave.

  ‘Sam, Sam, Please!" Colleen pleaded as she put her arm around him and steered him to the lone unbroken chair in the hall. "You must tell me what you know. I won’t tell anyone but I must know. Why would Winston want to kill kids in his own gang?"

  "I can’t say. I’m probly next for jus’ coming here. I jus’ wanted to say bye’s all."

  "Are you saying he’s after you too, that you’re next?"

  Sam nodded.

  "Then you can’t go back, do you hear me?" Colleen got right in his face and shook Sam at the shoulders until he pulled away.

  "What you gonna do, Doc… protect me? Take me home and raise me like I’m your own? Make up for Marcus dying somehow by savin’ me?"

  Sam looked at Colleen with a defiant, but child-like expression… a mixture of fear and hope, pain and expectation.

  His mention of her brother’s death hit Colleen hard, and she reacted to Sam’s crude attempt at leveraging the situation with a shake of her head as if to deflect his words away from her.

  Sam instinctively backed farther away from her, shamed and knowing he had gone too far, his instinct was to run away. He could see the hurt he’d caused. Her eyes no longer glistened, violet turned to a dull gray, and her face lost its warmth. Sam flashed on how Colleen had been there for him, stood up for him and given him a new chance at life. She had not only cured his AIDs, she had given him purpose.

  Almost unconsciously, he reversed course and moved toward her, holding out his arms, not wanting to be rejected. Colleen stood there lifeless, still stunned by his words without emotion or reaction.

  "I didn’t mean it Doc, I’m stupid and shouldn’t of said nothing to hurt you." Sam looked up at Colleen who was unmoved and staring straight ahead.

  "Truth is Doc, I’m scared." Sam’s admission shocked him. He couldn’t remember telling anyone he was scared in his whole life. His admission broke a logjam of emotion. His whole fear-filled life flashed in front of him and he realized there was very little of it when he had not been scared. He’d worn a mask as long as he could remember, a thin veneer of confidence stretched tight over a fear that gnawed at him from the inside, aching to get out.

  His mouth was talking for his heart now, and Sam seemed unable to stop it. And he was hearing the most amazing things come from it.

  "I’m scared, Doc, but you are too, I can see it on you. Truth is, you won’t make it too far without help you know, maybe we can play it out together, just for a while, you know…

  "I can help you." Sam said, pleading now and moving closer to Colleen. "I still got moves, you know. I got some tricks, and they’s tricks to staying upright, you know." Sam looked up at Colleen’s face and saw it thaw. He felt her pulling him close as her hand stroked his hair.

  "That’s the best plan I’ve heard all day!" she whispered as she held him close to her again.

  "I’m so tired of bullies, Sam. I’m not sure how you knew it, but I am in danger, just like you…and maybe we can help each other. In the meantime, I’ll be damned if I'll just sit here and take it!"

  They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time. Sam could hardly have dared to hear what Colleen was offering, and now he wondered about the strange alliance they had formed. Maybe they could help each other after all. Maybe he could protect her. Maybe she could help make his problems go away. Maybe landlords would forget when the rent was due, too… maybe, but not likely.

  ______________________

  Late that night, the Cessna Citation touched down at Chicago Executive airport and taxied to the terminal. As Kyle and Tom climbed down the gangway, Tom pointed to a limo with a sign reading "Colder" in the window parked to the side on the tarmac.

  "That would be us," he said as he led Kyle in the direction of the car.

  Kyle stopped and turned to gaze for a moment at the shiny jet that had whisked him so quickly out of danger.

  "You’ll have a chance to settle in soon," Tom said. "We’re not far from the condo."

  "Condo?"

  "Yep, it’s best to keep you out of hotels… too easy to track. Oh, and let me have your credit cards, you’ll have to go off the grid for a while."

  Kyle handed over the few cards he had been able to obtain since completing his sentence. A gas card, his bank’s debit card, and his AAA membership card stood as a reminder how different ex-cons have it.

  "How about my cell phone, when can I get that back?" Kyle asked, although he really didn’t have anyone he urgently needed to call.

  We’ll get you a throwaway… until then, we just need you to keep a low profile… okay?" Tom said as he handed Kyle's AAA card back with a reassuring smile.

  ‘Sure Tom" Kyle said, grateful for the help. "I only really have my brother, and we’re not that close… oh and Bill Cooley, of course… he’s gonna want me to check in with him soon."

  ____________________

  The next morning a large SUV pulled up to the front door of the high rise where Kyle was waiting. Colleen jumped out of the back seat and gave Kyle a big hug, while Jack went over the directions to IFT headquarters with Tom.

  "How was the flight Kyle?" Jack asked.

  Well, I know one thing," Kyle drawled. "I’m already spoiled!"

  Jack laughed. "Spoiled is good! Now how about some answers?"

  "Absolutely" Kyle said smiling as he climbed into the back seat beside Colleen.

  On the way to IFT, Colleen and Jack worked on their story. In order to get in to see Ramy, they needed stories that sounded plausible.

  "Okay, you’re Colleen Grayson, lead editor for "Trends in Food" magazine." He said as he handed her some freshly printed business cards.

  "I’m Bob Marley, your assistant" Jack said with a smile.

  Colleen looked up from inspecting her new cards and smiled back at Jack’
s choice of a cover name. "Bob Marley? Really?"

  "I know… righteous, huh? It makes it sound more genuine if there’s a glitch… don’t you think?" he added with a just a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

  Tom and Kyle looked at each other and shook their heads. The plan called for Kyle to stay outside until Colleen called him in. That, they hoped, would be after they had convinced Ramy of the seriousness of the situation, and that he was in danger. If they needed extra evidence, Kyle was ready to tell his story.

  "Just how long do we keep up this ruse?" Colleen asked, holding up her new identity.

  "Just as long as it takes to get Ramy alone…"

  _____________________________

  Jack and Colleen arrived at the visitor’s desk at International Food Technology right on time. They presented their freshly printed business cards and waited for the receptionist to announce them and send them to Ramy’s office. Instead, the receptionist’s expression turned dour. "I’m so sorry. Dr. Basra has a scheduling conflict and cannot see you today." Then, with a practiced sigh conveying compassionate resignation, she slid their business cards back to them.

  "Are you sure?" Jack asked raising his voice and causing it to reverberate around the cavernous lobby. "We had an appointment… a very important appointment."

  "Yes sir, Dr. Basra is preparing for a presentation and is not able to be disturbed."

  Jack asked for a piece of paper and scribbled out a note, then folded it and handed it to the receptionist. "I know this is unusual, but I assure you, Dr. Basra will want to see us if you would be so kind as to take this to him. We’ll just make ourselves comfortable over there and wait for his answer."

  The receptionist started to protest but Colleen smiled and pushed their cards back across the marble surface, sparkling her piercing violet eyes. "He really will thank you for this!"

  The receptionist sighed louder this time, watching the couple spin, cross the lobby, and sit on the large sofa. She secured her computer, started to say something to Jack, and then reluctantly took the note down the hall to Ramy’s office.

  Jack turned to Colleen with a look of admiration. "You really should tell me how you do that sometime!" he said.

  "What, you’ve never used a little sugar to get what you want?" Colleen teased.

  "No not that…in another minute I’d have gotten us in. I’m talking about your eyes… how do you sparkle them on command like that?"

  "Well I do declare Rhett… whatever do you mean?" Colleen replied in a mock southern accent while her eyes batted and sparkled brightly.

  Jack’s reply was interrupted by the growing sound of multiple footsteps on marble coming fast down the hall. The receptionist had brought Dr. Basra to them, and he was not happy at the intrusion.

  "Who are you?" said Ramy in an authoritarian voice as Jack and Colleen stood to greet him.

  ‘Someone who can help save your life" Jack whispered out of earshot of the receptionist.

  "This is Dr. Colleen Baker, a colleague of Mark’s and a former student."

  ‘So, you are not Colleen Grayson from Trends in Food… is that what you’re telling me?

  Jack stepped on Colleen’s attempt to explain. "Sorry for the ruse, doctor, but we really didn’t know how to approach such a delicate subject without making it all sound fantastically dramatic. Now that we’re here, there is another person we would like to join us in your office if you don’t mind" Jack said as he glanced toward the parking lot.

  "I really don’t have time for this, Mr. Marley"

  Jack turned crimson at the thought of explaining another concocted identity, but didn’t correct Ramy. Instead, he went on the offensive.

  "Do you have time for the man who saw Mark killed?"

  Ramy looked at his watch and hesitated, weighing the situation. "Quickly, five minutes is all I have."

  Jack sent the text he had prepared on his phone and started back to Ramy’s office with Colleen. Soon Kyle joined them in Ramy’s office carrying Mark’s briefcase.

  "Your note mentioned Project Termes. How do you know about that?" Ramy demanded.

  "We didn’t… until Kyle recovered this at the scene of Mark’s murder." Jack said as he set the scorched briefcase on the coffee table and opened it.

  Ramy’s eyes widened as he contemplated what Jack had said.

  "I’ll get to the point, Dr. Basra" Jack said in a calm voice.

  "Dr. Moran is dead. Murdered actually. Along with thirteen inmates from a nearby prison, who were in all probability test subjects in a Termes study. We think they were killed because of problems with Termes. The killers are highly placed. Placed highly enough to initiate a cover-up by the Air Force. Our Air Force."

  Ramy let out a peculiar laugh and rose from his chair.

  "Preposterous! I see I made a mistake giving you and your ridiculous tales any credence at all. Please, leave my office." he said as he ushered them toward the door with his arms.

  Jack kept his seat and nodded for the others to keep theirs as well. He was on a roll, and would not yield, his voice growing firmer. "Kyle witnessed the whole thing, and was almost killed as well. We think the CEO of a prison corporation, Hank Caswell, ordered the killings, but are not sure how he also got the Air Force to help cover it up."

  Jack saw Ramy’s expression change from aggravation to one of fear when Hank Caswell’s name was mentioned. Ramy tried to cover his agitation by sitting on the corner of his desk and absently arranging its contents.

  Ramy regrouped quickly, collecting his thoughts and adopting a resolute expression. "This all sounds like some absurd fantasy Mr. Marley, if that indeed is your real name?" Ramy said as he reread the business card in his hand.

  "Um, actually, it isn’t. Sorry, it’s Colder, Jack Colder." Jack said as he smiled bashfully, suddenly realizing just how James Bondish that sounded.

  "Well, well, Mr. Colder, the mystery writer? I thought you looked familiar," Ramy said sitting back a bit, "it sounds like you have a pretty good story here, complete fiction, but solid enough to make your readers happy I suppose. I guess I should be flattered to participate in the construction of your next book plot, but may I ask what my character's part would be in all this?"

  Jack sat forward to make his next point. "First off, this is not research for one of my books. People are dead. Really. There is a cover up going on. Really. The investigation has been pulled from the local authorities by the military. Really. I assure you we would like nothing better than to bring those responsible for this to justice. But we’re here because when Kyle was almost killed, we realized you were also in danger. We’ve come to warn you."

  "Warn me of what?"

  "There is a contract out on you, the same one that is out on Kyle."

  "Whatever for?" Ramy asked, striving to look puzzled.

  "We’re not sure, but the assassin apprehended for trying to kill Kyle confessed that you were also named. $50,000 will get a lot of unsavory people interested in finding you, and you make it easy money when you are not trying to hide."

  Ramy started to speak when Colleen interrupted him.

  "Dr. Basra, surely you recognize enough of what we have uncovered, to know we are telling the truth. Someone highly placed is covering up the fact that there were tests done on inmates, tests gone horribly wrong. If you didn’t know that, you most certainly have suspected as much. We’re not asking for a confession, but we do want your help in bringing those responsible for the murders to justice, and if we can save your life as a consequence to that, then so much the better."

  Colleen sat back, folding her arms, leaving her words hang in the air. Kyle was about to add something when Colleen jabbed him with her elbow.

  Ramy stood and walked back to his chair, sitting heavily. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, formulating his reply. "I have a hard time believing Mark is dead, but not for the reasons you have mentioned."

  Ramy sat back in his chair and sighed again.

  "You see, Dr. Moran was on the run."
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  Jack stumbled on his words as he reacted to this new piece of information; information that could throw their conclusions out the window.

  "On the run? From what, when? How?"

  "From the law, I’m afraid. We had a break in." Ramy began softly, looking almost embarrassed to even discuss it. "An experimental project called Termes was stolen two weeks ago from this very lab. We thought at the time it was espionage by a competitor, and Mark went to 'check out a hunch'. The thief was later found dead in a motel room, and traffic cameras place Mark in the vicinity near the time of the shooting."

  "Well that doesn’t prove Mark was guilty!" Colleen insisted defensively.