by Ed James
“This is because of what you’ve been cooking up with Olson, isn’t it?”
“There’s nothing, I swear.” Holliday tried to make eye contact, tried to make him believe it. “Answer me this—has my name come up in your investigation?”
“I couldn’t tell you if it had.”
“Come on, Xander. Our lives are at risk here. If you’ve got anything on me, I need to know.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Holliday waved at the woods, in Mason’s general direction. “If there’s some bullshit you have on me and he doesn’t like the sound of it, then he can—”
“There’s nothing.” Delgado sighed. “As far as that investigation goes, you’re clean. Happy?”
“Hard to be happy in this situation.” Holliday felt a rumble through the seat. He checked the rearview—sure enough, a white Merc trundled down the lane toward them, belching out diesel like the world wasn’t ending. It pulled up, leaving a space gap between.
Holliday grabbed Delgado’s arm. “Play it cool, here. Okay?”
“I’m doing this for your daughter and your wife, Chris. Not you.” Delgado got out and wrapped Olson in a friendly hug.
How deep does their friendship go?
Holliday got out of the car into the thin rain and circled around the back. He offered his hand and got a shake, the same clammy one as at the Fed Building that morning. “Richard.”
But Olson wrapped him in a bearhug, patting him down for guns and a wire. “What’s going on, Chris?” he whispered in his ear. “Delgado putting you up to this?”
Holliday broke free. “No, Richard. I’m desperate here.” He glanced into the woods and caught a flash, the thin sunlight bouncing off Mason’s gun. “Whoever took my kids still has Avery.”
Olson brushed down his suit. “And what does this have to do with me or my company?”
“The guy who has her wants me to find out stuff about an exercise at Tang Elementary School, October second last year.” Holliday nodded at Delgado. “Xander’s shown me the files, so I know everything he does.”
Olson stood there, quaking, like a giant bear ready to lash out with a roar.
“Richard, I need your help.” Even Holliday could hear the fear in his voice.
Olson started opening the door. “Chris, this is the last time we’re ever going to speak.”
Holliday grabbed his arm, stopped him getting in the car. “Richard, this guy has Avery. He’s going to kill her.” A tear slid down his cheek. “You know what happened to my boy.”
“This guy shot him?”
Holliday looked into the woods again, instinctively. He couldn’t see any sign of Mason. “Yes.”
“Chris, what have you gotten yourself into?”
“I just need your help.”
Olson raised his eyebrows at Delgado. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m helping Chris find his kid. That’s it.”
“Pretty sure that’s the FBI’s job.” Olson narrowed his eyes. “Sure the two of you aren’t here to dish dirt on me?”
“Not the time or the place, Richard. I’m helping a friend.”
Olson stared hard at Delgado. He doesn’t believe any of this. “Okay, I’ll bite.” He shut the door and leaned back against his car, arms folded. “What do you want to know?”
“Just what happened at that school. That’s all. Then we’ll be on our way.”
“Okay, officially, there was an exercise. US Army ran it, we supported. Went according to plan. That’s the story I’d give in court.”
“But?”
“But, after Delgado hauled me over the coals this morning, I thought no smoke without fire, huh?” A furious sigh. “So I dug deep. The files Xander here got his hands on weren’t the complete story.”
Delgado swallowed hard. “You were supposed to give us everything.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Xander. I found some interesting stuff, but there’s nothing on the books, like I say. If you know where to look, there are payments. And I found out who originated them, and I hauled them over burning-hot coals.”
“Who?”
“Chris, if this is really important to you, to finding your daughter, then you need to speak to Harry Youngblood. My former head of strategic operations. You know him very well.”
“Former?”
“On gardening leave as of two o’clock today.” Olson knocked on the driver door. “And he won’t be coming back.” He opened his car door and got in. Seconds later, his driver was roaring back up the country lane.
Holliday scanned the trees, searching for movement or a flash of light, getting nothing.
Does it mean Mason’s on to something? Olson finds some dirty payments at his company. Do they relate to that operation?
Delgado tugged at Holliday’s sleeve. “Let’s get out of here.”
“No.”
“Come on, man. He’s gone. We can—”
A revolver clicked behind Holliday, metal pressed into his neck. “Stay right there.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Mason
I step around them, keeping the gun trained on Holliday. The air tastes clean here. Just the sound of the distant freeway and a bubbling river. No voices, no calls. “Get over by the car.”
Like a good dog, Holliday bounds around the front of the car and joins the congressman. I heard every word Olson said, but something’s spooked Holliday.
Which part, though?
Was it just Olson’s presence? Face-to-face with the big man, the campaign financier. Or were there secrets neither was letting on about with Delgado listening in?
Or was it Harry Youngblood? The name doesn’t mean anything to me. Sounds like a Native American. But it sounds like he’s a GrayBox exec, or at least was. And it sounds like he’s up to his neck in this. Whatever they planned, whatever they did, sure seems like he was behind it.
“Who’s going to tell me about Harry Youngblood?”
They stand there, looking at each other, daring the other one to spill.
“One of you. Now.”
Delgado looks around. “Shouldn’t we do this in the car?”
“No. We’re doing it here in the rain. Who is Harry Youngblood?”
Holliday’s eyes give away the fact that he doesn’t know. He’d make a shitty poker player. A tightening around his jaw, like when Tom Cruise tries to show emotion in every movie. Probably where he got it from, thinking that’s what real men do.
Then Delgado’s cell phone rings.
I snatch it off him and toss it deep into the woods.
Rookie mistake. I need to get out of here. They’ll be on to us, tracking his cell.
Two of them doubles the risk, at least.
But something hits me from behind, cracks into my skull. I sink to my knees, the muddy rain splashing up my legs. A boot in my back and I stumble forward, landing face down in it. And the gun skids away from me.
Holliday stands over me, wielding a tree branch like a club. “Now!”
Delgado’s frozen, eyes wide. Then he gets the gun.
I try rolling over, but Holliday smashes the club into my hip, spearing me and sending me flat on the ground again.
“Give me it!” Holliday reaches out a hand for the revolver, and Delgado tosses it to him. He catches it and points it right at me. “Okay, you’re going to take me to my daughter.”
I get up to my knees and raise my hands. “Okay.” Then nice and slowly, I stand up, the rain already starting to wash the mud off. “Just keep it calm, Chris, and it’ll all be okay.”
“How is it okay?” He’s in a rage, stomping across to me, aiming the gun at my head. “My boy’s in the hospital!”
I wait, breathing slow, keeping my focus. “We’ll take you to her, okay?” The gun barrel is three inches from my head, ready to fire. I only get one shot at this. I look to my right. “What’s that?”
It works. I kick into gear, grab the barrel and push it away, clenching my fist at the sa
me time. Then I lash out and crack him in the cheek. I bring my other hand around and grab the gun off him, stepping back. Tables turned again. “I warned you about doing that, Senator.”
His eyes are wild with panic and confusion. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”
I reach into my pocket and get out my cell. “That’s it. You’ve really done it now.” I type in the number.
“Wait!” Delgado has his hands raised. “I know Harry. He’s a good guy. Worked at GrayBox for a few.”
“Is he in your files?”
“All over them. Every page. Signs everything off. Whatever happened at that school, Harry Youngblood knew about it.” Delgado inspects his cuff links, acting like he’s not at gunpoint. “The FBI interrogated him as part of our document-gathering exercise.” He raises his eyebrows like he expects a pat on the head. “They let him go without charge.”
“You think he’s clean?”
“Hard to tell. But, I will say this. The very next day, he’s on my doorstep. Said he’s fighting for his career, trying to find out what I know. Olson wasn’t happy with him. Wants to know what I’m likely to spring on Olson at the congressional hearing. Of course, this is months back. We searched the files, didn’t find any smoking guns.” His gaze settles on the handgun, still pointing at Holliday. “But I embarrassed his boss in public, made Olson look like he doesn’t know what’s going on at his own company. Sounds like Harry lost the fight today.”
I switch the gun to point at Delgado now. “What do you think he’s hidden from Olson?”
“Could be anything. Cash, bribes, fraud. Anything.” Delgado shrugs. “But Olson’s hung Youngblood out to dry here. He doesn’t want any backlash against GrayBox, so he’s containing it, blaming it all on Harry. He runs strategic operations, meaning that he was in overall charge of the exercise there. Meaning his head was on the block for what went down that day. Gardening leave means Olson’s already chopped the guy’s head off on that block.”
I try to think it through, but there’s no decision to make here. “Can you get me to Youngblood?”
Delgado nods, hands still raised. “I can.”
So I shift the gun back to Holliday. “Okay, Senator. Thanks for all your help, but you’ve stopped being useful.”
Chapter Thirty
Layla
Here I am, sitting in the knock-off La-Z-Boy I should’ve sent to Goodwill a long time ago, when he left. But I couldn’t part with it. I swear I can still smell him on it. Maybe it’s just his aftershave and shampoo.
The small TV set plays the cable news, the anchor covering what they’re calling “Sen. Holliday’s Kids”. “We’re hearing reports that the Henry M. Jackson Federal Building in downtown Seattle is on lockdown in what sources describe as a matter relating to the abduction of Senator Christopher Holliday’s children. Remember, the whereabouts of the senator are at this moment unknown. More on this breaking story after these messages.” It cuts to yet another ad break, that actor from that show talking to the camera like he’s suffered a workplace injury and should’ve got life insurance.
My heart’s racing now. I check my cell, but I’ve got no missed calls from Mason. Signal is still an empty chat with Bob Smith, the same with Bob and Mason. Always delete the history. Always. I send them both a message:
What’s going on at Fed Building?
I watch for a read notification as the ads play, but nothing happens. Mason and Bob Smith are both offline. So I flick it up a channel just as they cut back in from their ads.
Their anchor is a woman with blonde hair and a red blazer, her shoulder pads like something from the eighties. “It’s believed that Senator Christopher Holliday was inside the Henry M. Jackson Federal Building, resulting in the building being placed on lockdown. Federal agents and local law enforcement refuse to comment, but eyewitnesses told our reporters on the ground that—”
“MOM?”
Her voice chills me, coming from the back, from the room that’s been silent too long.
“MOMMY?”
I rush through and ease the door open.
Avery is lying on the bed, can barely open her eyes. But they’re open and staring right at me. “Mommy?”
“It’s okay, sweetie. Your mom had to rush out, so I’m helping you. Okay?”
“Okay.” She shuts her eyes. So trusting at that age. Too trusting. “Who are you?”
“I’m Luisa, honey.” I perch on the edge of the bed and stroke her back. “Me and your mom used to work together. We go way back.”
“’Kay.” She shifts in the bed, facing away from me. “I don’t feel so good.”
“Do you need something for your tummy?”
“It’s my head.”
“I’ve got something for that.” I slip out back into the hallway, then into the bathroom. Mason’s left the syringe out for me next to the faucet, locked and loaded. Ready. I hold it up to the light.
He’s clearly on to something. They wouldn’t lock the building down if he wasn’t. We’re so close to getting our answers, and all I need to do is keep Avery under lock and key.
Like that’s all it is. Injecting an innocent child with a drug that’ll knock her out. What have I become?
I take a deep breath and step back into the hallway.
The glass around the door mists like there’s someone there. Moving around.
No, no, no.
A knock on the door, loud and insistent.
What do I do here?
I grab my cell and call Mason, but he doesn’t pick up.
Another knock, louder, closer together.
What do I do? Inject Avery now? But they could see me from the road.
Actually, what would Mason do? Play it cool. Act like nothing weird’s going on here.
Okay.
I put the syringe in the medicine cabinet. “Coming!” I walk over and open the door, keeping it on the latch.
A cop stands there in his uniform, thumbs tucked into his vest.
An FBI agent too, dark suit, shades, navy windbreaker. He steps forward, as close as he can get without coming inside, and holds up a photo of Avery. “Have you seen this girl, ma’am?”
Chapter Thirty-One
Holliday
Birds tweeted nearby and a river flowed in the distance, full of Seattle rain, almost drowning out the freeway drone. Almost drowning out Holliday’s frantic heartbeat. He focused on the gun in Mason’s hand. Searing pain in his wrists from when Mason disarmed him. Happened in a flash. “Please, no!”
Delgado stood between them, his face twisted in panic.
“You’ve served your usefulness. Thanks.” Mason pulled out a pair of handcuffs, the bracelets open. Must have taken them from the guard when he got the gun. “But I don’t want them finding you until this is all over.”
And it hit Holliday like a bullet.
I’ve given my life and career for this madman. Brandon’s dying because of him. Just so that vermin could push me out of the way and take Delgado instead.
“He’s talking bullshit. I know Youngblood better than Xander. I can—”
“No.” Mason held out the cuffs. “Put these on. Now.”
Holliday hung his head low. “Please, just let Avery go.”
“You’re not following me, Senator. She’ll be freed, but only once this is over.”
Something like relief hit Holliday, the tightness in his chest slipping away. But the tightness gripped again, around his heart like a vise.
Mason waved the pistol into the woods. “Now, I can’t have you calling the cops or the feds until this is all over. We’re going to find you a tree, a sturdy one, and I’m going to cuff you to it.”
“You can’t trust Xander.” Holliday kept his focus on Mason, avoiding even registering Delgado as a person, let alone as a rival. “He’s got no skin in this game. He’ll double-cross you as soon as you turn your back. You’ve got my daughter. You know you can trust me. And I swear I can take you to Harry Youngblood.”
Mason took a few se
conds, a twitch in his eyes betraying the mental process going on there. The pros and cons, the mathematics of trust. “Dude has a point, Xander. How can I trust you’ll not let me down?”
Delgado wiped at the sweat on his forehead mingling with the rain. His eyebrows were like sponges, soaking it up, only to burst free when he brushed them.
“Do you know him well enough to get in his home?”
Delgado nodded. “I think so.”
Holliday threw his arms in the air. “I’m the one with something at stake here.”
“And I’m in charge here. My rules.” Mason held the gun to Holliday’s head. “Am I clear?” He waited for Holliday’s nod, then shifted it to Delgado. “Get walking.”
Delgado stepped back, hands up. “You can’t trust him.”
“Don’t listen—”
“Chris!” Mason pointed the gun back at Holliday. “Keep your mouth shut or this is all over now. Okay? Here, in this parking lot.” Then he nodded at Delgado. “Why can’t I trust him?”
Delgado didn’t have anything concrete. A desperate man, clinging on to whatever he could leverage. “I can get you whatever you want.”
“I’m sick of this.” Mason stood between them, shifting the gun between Delgado and Holliday. “One of you two is coming with me, the other is staying here.”
If I time it right, when the gun moves from me toward Delgado, I can jump at Mason and take him out. He might shoot Delgado, but if I get the gun I can force Mason to take me to Avery.
Mason switched the gun back to Holliday. He was holding a burner phone in his free hand, that old Nokia thing. The Batphone signal to whoever was holding Avery.
“Listen to me, Mason.” Holliday reached out his hand, hoping neither of them noticed how badly it was shaking. “I know Harry. You’ve got my daughter.”
“You can’t trust him.” Delgado inched closer. “He’s in bed with these guys. He’s involved in this.”
“Mason, give me the phone. I’ll call him right now.”
