James Beamer Box Set

by Paul Seiple

  The sound of rattling pipes filled the air. The hum Reid once heard grew louder. It was a generator.

  “It’s about ninety degrees outside, but it’s a little chilly here in the basement. I took the liberty to turn the heat on for you.” Norman went silent. “Oh, but sometimes old gas furnaces emit carbon monoxide and ventilation isn’t that great down here. So you may want to wrap this up.”

  A rush of heat surrounded Reid. He reached for the knob. The door wouldn’t budge.”

  “I’m sorry. Did I lock you in?”

  Reid turned and faced the wall with the shrine to his mother. He sat down, with his back against the door, and closed his eyes.

  Norman unlocked the padlock on the utility closet. He put Michelle in there before his encounter with Reid. Norman tried to open the door, but something blocked it.

  “Let me in, dear. We have to leave now. It’s not safe here.”

  There was no response.

  Norman pushed the door again. It moved inches. “I’m not playing, Michelle. We have to go now.”

  Still no answer.

  Norman pushed harder, falling to his knees as the blockage, cardboard boxes full of pocket Bibles, gave way. Michelle was gone. Norman didn't realize there was a small window hidden by the boxes. Michelle knocked them over and climbed the boxes to escape.

  Norman walked over to the window and stood on a box. The piece of wood that was covering the window lay in the alleyway. There was no sign of Michelle. He smiled. “It’s going to be fun teaching you, dear.” Dizziness shook Norman causing him to lose his balance. He braced against the wall to stop from falling. The carbon monoxide was getting stronger. He had to leave.

  The pounding in Reid’s head intensified as the guilt of letting those he loved down ravaged his soul. This was his chance to stop Wallace and he let the man outsmart him. The burning sensation that singed his throat reached an unbearable state just before he vomited. The room started to spin. The photos of Wallace’s victims spiraled in front of him like tortured souls of the damned. Reid became delusional, hearing voices of the fallen pleading with him to save them. He closed his eyes, but the room continued to spin. Breathing became more of a chore. With every inhale, more poison invaded his body. Reid’s eyelids felt weighted. He stretched his face trying to keep his eyes open. Fighting was futile. He gave in and accepted his fate.

  Thirty-Seven

  Arlington, Virginia

  Lick hit me again. Another jab to the ribs. By this point my body’s defense mechanisms kicked in, numbing the pain. There wasn’t a chance that I could play dead. Lick was a savage. He wasn’t going to stop until he tore me apart, leaving no doubt about my death. In his rage, he didn’t realize I was measuring his attacks. Just like in video games, Lick’s blows were predictable. After the right to the gut, he would try to smash my skull. I’d block it. That would make him angrier. He'd then throw a left to the gut followed by another right. And then the cycle would repeat.

  I had to go on offense while I still clung to life. He swung at my head, clubbing my forearm. When he threw a left, I absorbed it, and dug my fingers into the gunshot wound in his thigh. Lick screamed and grabbed my wrist with inhuman strength, trying to snap my hand away from my arm. I burrowed my fingers deeper. Realizing I wasn't letting go, he put his right hand on my wrist as well. With both hands tied up, I had a free shot. I poked him in the eye. He let go of my arm. I placed my hands on his knees and slid out from underneath him. Once on my feet, I planted a knee squarely on his chin to the sickening sound of teeth breaking. I picked up a shard of wood from the chair and jammed it into the bullet hole in his shoulder.

  Lick shoved me away causing me to stumble. He charged me like a bull that had been speared by a bull fighter. His shoulder hit my gut. He wrapped his arms around me and drove me into the wall, splintering the wood paneling. He rammed me again and again into the wall. Each time the back of my head slammed against the wood. With every bit of strength I had, I placed my hands on his shoulders, lifting myself a few inches. Not much but just enough to grab Lick in a chokehold. The next time he rammed me into the wood, I shifted my body to the side and his head made contact with wall. He loosened his grip. I pushed free and rolled across the floor. He charged again. I sidestepped Lick and he went head first into another wall. My foot kicked something on the ground. He came at me again. When he grabbed for my waist, I dropped to my knees and picked up the gun. Lick backhanded me sending me tumbling across the floor, but I held on to the Model 15.

  “I’m going to break your fuc…”

  I rolled onto my back and fired six shots into Lick’s chest. The beast froze for a moment before crashing onto me like a falling tree. The force of his weight made the bones in my body that weren’t already broken snap.

  “When this is over, I need to lay off the video games and start working out.” I grunted and strained, finally pushing the monster off me. I got to my feet, grabbed the flashlight, and headed to the nave to look for Reid and Michelle. Before getting there a wave of heat rushed over me in the hallway. The trail of warmth came from the open basement door.

  “Reid, you down there?” Michelle?”

  I heard a light knock when I got to the bottom of the stairs. I started to feel lightheaded. There was another knock. This time, I pinpointed where it came from. There was a chair propped against a door. The back of the chair was wedged underneath the door handle. I tossed the chair to the side and opened the door. Reid’s head fell against my leg.

  “Carbon mon…” Reid’s eyes rolled back in his head.

  I bent to lift him. The room started spinning. I used my forearm as leverage against the wall until I got Reid to his feet. “Can you walk?”

  He didn’t answer, but the way his legs swayed as I held him up let me know that the only way we were both getting out of there was if I carried him. I took a deep breath, ignoring the pain pricking at every inch of my body, and wrapped his arm around my neck.

  “Is it too much to ask for a basement door?” I asked noticing the only way out was up the stairs.

  “Yes,” Reid said. He tried to laugh, but it turned into a coughing spell followed by him vomiting on me.

  “Thanks for that. You could at least turn your head the other way. Hold on tight.” I carried Reid up the stairs. One step at a time. With each stair my breathing weakened. I resisted inhaling deeper. Once we were back on the main level, I bent down, grabbed Reid’s legs, lifted him, and ran toward the side entrance of the church. I kicked the door open and dropped Reid in the tall weeds.

  “Neglect never smelled so good.” Reid coughed.

  “Stay put, I’m going to get Rebecca. I’ll call for help.”

  “Only Mack. Remember. Only call Mack.”

  I trounced through the unkempt grass, not caring about making too much noise. The passenger door of the Firebird was open. Rebecca was gone. Running to the car, I called her name. Reid’s phone and the Model 15 he gave her were on the seat. I called for her again. After a brief silence, I heard Michelle scream.

  Thirty-Eight

  Arlington, Virginia

  “Mommy.” Michelle spotted Rebecca on the ground in the alleyway.

  Rebecca didn’t move. Michelle stared at Hella lying in a pool of blood. She inched closer to the body. A gasp for air startled her.

  “Don’t look at her, Chelle,” Rebecca said, trying to prop herself on her elbows.

  “Mommy.” Michelle grabbed Rebecca around the neck, sending a stabbing pain down Rebecca’s spine.

  “Be careful with Mommy. Help me up.”

  Michelle took Rebecca’s hand. Straining, she used all of her strength to try and help Rebecca to her feet. Rebecca made it to her knees before falling forward. Planting her palms on the concrete saved her from a face plant.

  “Mommy, are you OK?”

  “I’ll be fine, Chelle. I just need a second. Where’s your father?”

  “I didn’t see Daddy. I heard Uncle Reid talking to the bad man, but I ran away.”
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  Rebecca brushed matted hair away from Michelle’s forehead. “Good girl. Where’s the bad man now?”

  “I saw him leave in a red car. I was hiding behind the garbage cans.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. I’m just hungry.”

  Rebecca put her weight on her knees. She arched her back trying to ease the pain. She rolled her neck, but the sharp, stabbing down her spine made her wince. “Here, help Mommy again.” She extended her hand to Michelle. Rebecca fought through the misery and got to her feet.

  “Did you do that to that woman?” Michelle pointed at Hella.

  “I had no choice, Chelle. She was trying to hurt Mommy.”

  “I didn’t like her.”

  “I didn’t care for her too much either. Let’s go find your father.”

  “She cut your face, Mommy.”

  “Another reason not to like her.”

  Rebecca took Michelle’s hand and hobbled out of the alleyway. The significant limp in Rebecca’s walk made Michelle impatient, but Rebecca couldn’t go faster. “Chelle, Mommy can’t move any faster. You’re going to have to go slower.”

  “Daddy!” Michelle broke free from Rebecca.

  Thirty-Nine

  Arlington, Virginia

  A few blocks away, I saw Michelle running towards me. Rebecca limping behind her. I raced toward them. Michelle jumped into my arms causing me to almost crumble from pain.

  “Mommy’s hurt.”

  “I’ll live,” Rebecca said. “The bastard got away again. But the bitch didn’t.”

  “Mommy. Language.”

  “Sorry, Chelle, but some days you just have to say bad words.”

  “Yeah, Daddy has those days all the time.”

  “Does he now?”

  “Can we talk about this later?” I said. “Anything broken?”

  “My ankle hurts like hell, but I don’t think it’s broken. How about you?”

  “Couple ribs. Nothing major.” I winced as Michelle’s knee dug into my side. “Hop down,” I said to Michelle. “Let me help Mommy.”

  Rebecca put her palm in my chest. “I’m fine.”

  “Well, I’m not. Can someone please get me to the hospital so I can get some oxygen?” Reid said, dragging himself to the car.

  Mack and Jill were in the waiting room when we got to the hospital. The staff gawked when we walked through the door. From the stares we must have looked like we had been in a war. One nurse grabbed a wheelchair for Rebecca. Her injured ankle had swollen to nearly twice the size as the other. Another nurse helped Reid, who was still struggling to breathe.

  “He’s been exposed to carbon monoxide,” I said. “He needs oxygen.”

  “And the little girl?” the nurse asked.

  “I’ve been exposed to hunger. I need Doritos,” Michelle said.

  The nurse laughed. “I think I can find some Doritos.” She turned to me. “How about you?”

  “I think I need something a bit stronger than junk food. Got any morphine?”

  “Reid,” Mack said, running over to help the nurse.

  “Barbara,” Reid said. “How's…”

  “She’s awake. She’s going to be fine. There’s no permanent damage.”

  Jill joined the crowd. “You guys really know how to throw a party, don’t you?”

  A knock jarred me from light sleep. I sat straight up. Pain wrapped me in a bear hug. I grabbed my side.

  “Calm down. It’s not the Grim Reaper,” Reid said. “At least not today.”

  “Now my allies are trying to kill me.” I eased back onto the pillow. “You look about twenty years younger, old man.”

  Reid chuckled. “Oxygen will do that for you, I guess. So, what’s the damage?”

  “Not as bad as I originally thought. Only eight broken ribs and a mild spleen rupture. Guess I’m tougher than I thought.”

  “How long you in for?”

  “I’m not sure. Doc wants to monitor my spleen to see if I’ll need surgery. How’s Michelle?”

  “She’s safe. Tanner has her in protective custody.”

  “And Barbara.”

  “Doing better. No brain damage. Her jaw is wired, so she can’t yell at me right now. Ask me again in a few months.”

  I laughed. The pain made me bite my lip.

  “Take it easy there, kid,” Reid said. His expression went from a smirk to a frown in a blink. “We need to talk about something.”

  “What?”

  “Your family isn’t safe as long as Wallace is alive. I let everyone down by not killing him when I had a chance.”

  “Kinda hard to kill a ghost,” I said.

  “He’s not a ghost. He’s flesh and blood. And he isn’t going to stop coming for your family. For Michelle.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “You have to die.”

  “Huh?”

  “I have a guy that can give you new identities. He can make it so that it’s impossible for Wallace to find Michelle. She’s been telling Tanner that Wallace promised to take her to Disney World. That he had a future planned out for her. He wants her, Michael. And he knows the only way he’ll get her is if you and Rebecca are out of the picture.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m telling you that life as you know it ends here in this hospital. It’s the only way.”

  “You’re asking us to give up everything and start over. What about Rebecca’s career?’

  “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you that this is the only way to keep your family safe. Get some rest. I’ll be back in a few days.”

  I closed my eyes and saw every dream of the future burn in flames as my father lit the torch.

  Forty

  Arlington, Virginia

  “All right, Hoffman. The last of the houses has been evacuated,” Special Agent Bomb Technician Tom Owens said to Reid.

  Walter Reed Drive was abandoned. Houses cleared. The street was vacant of vehicles except for a lone black van which belonged to the FBI. Reid bypassed bringing in the local bomb squad. Trust was an issue since the thought of a mole crossed Reid’s mind. He could count the people he trusted with his life on one hand. Tommy Owens was one of those people. Mack Root. Yemana was another, but something didn’t add up when Yemana gave him the lead of 255 Walter Reed. Reid spent years studying people. Their speech. Looking for any little hint of deceit. Something in Yemana’s voice, during the call, threw up a red flag. A mole would explain how Wallace was always one step ahead of Reid. But not just any mole. Most of Reid’s case work on Wallace was off the record. It had to be someone close. Someone he trusted. The hitch in Yemana’s voice made Reid start to doubt his friend.

  “You gonna tell me why the locals couldn’t handle this,” Special Agent Owens said.

  “I can’t believe you would even ask that,” Reid said. “I wanted the best.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Hoffman. You made me fly in from Huntsville with two of my best instructors for a hunch?”

  “It’s not a hunch. There’s a bomb in there. And I asked you to come because I trust you. Let that be enough until you prove my hunch right.”

  “Fair enough.” Special Agent Owens called to an agent standing near the mailbox of the vacant colonial-style home. “All clear, Jack. Go to work.”

  Agent Jack Stark opened the back door of the van and two German Shepherds jumped out. “Let’s go boys.”

  The dogs sniffed their way up the brick sidewalk. Both stopped and sat before the first step of the porch.

  “It’s hot,” Agent Stark said. “Possibly C-4”

  “Looks like you were right, Hoffman. Wayne and Grayson are the best dogs I have. Now, you want to tell me why this wasn’t handled locally?” Owens said, pulling up a bomb suit over his waist.

  “There’s a fox in the hen house that is killing the chickens.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got bigger problems than a bomb.” Owens slipped a helmet over his head. He walked by the dogs still sitting still at the firs
t step. He carefully moved onto the small concrete front porch and shined a flashlight through a window. A small ray of light came from a silver wire at the bottom of the windowpane. “Tripwire, front window.” He flashed the light against the front door. A hint of another wire glistened from the bottom of the door. “Another one. Front door. Amateur stuff, Hoffman.”

  “Yeah, but in the heat of the moment, it’s still enough to catch us in a trap.”

  “No. Not the great Reid Hoffman.”

  "Believe it or not, Tommy, I'm getting old."

  "Oh, I believe it." Special Agent Owens took off the helmet. “Pretty simple stuff here, but it looks like every entry point on the first level is live. I’ll have to go in through the second floor to disarm.”

  “While you take care of that, I need to catch a fox.”

  “Bring me back a blonde with nice legs,” Owens said, resting a ladder against the side of the house.

  Yemana sat in front of the television eating a Hungry Man frozen dinner watching the breaking news that a house in Arlington had been rigged with enough C-4 to “destroy the entire neighborhood.” His apartment was modest and small, but well kept. Organized just like everything else in his life. He struck a friendship with Reid Hoffman ten years earlier when he joined the Bureau. Known for being a technology guru, Yemana was crucial in catching an elite group of hackers that called themselves The Swarm before they could infiltrate National Savings Bank and walk away with enough money to do some real damage. He was lesser known for being Reid’s eyes and ears in his hunt for Norman Wallace. Yemana buried the history of George Wallace; Norman’s other son, after Reid disposed of him years ago. Yemana was the reason Michael Callahan lived a future free of his past, at least in the public’s eye. But it came at a hefty price.