Reckless Faith

by David Kantrowitz

  John muttered something under his breath. “Help me load up the truck.”

  Ari and John moved all of the equipment into the Expedition. John returned the cart to the front of the store before joining Ari inside the Ford.

  “Seeing as we’re right across the river from my place,” said Ari, “can we swing by? I just want to grab a couple of things.”

  “We already agreed that we were going to wait until we were done with all of our gathering before collecting any personal items.”

  “John,” Ari hissed, “I’m out of clean clothes.”

  “Fine, just for a few minutes. I feel dumb enough as it is driving around in public. Granted, nobody knows about Ray’s involvement, and therefore, this vehicle.”

  “Didn’t Ray introduce himself to Levi?”

  “He didn’t tell him his last name. It’s still too risky right now. Picture what you want from your apartment now so that you don’t waste time when we get there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  John pulled out of the parking lot and headed east towards MIT. It was only a few minutes to Massachusetts Avenue, then over the river to Boston.

  “How much does one of those infrared transceivers cost?” asked John.

  “I don’t know. A few hundred dollars I would imagine.”

  “How long before they notice it’s missing?”

  “I asked if I could borrow it, remember? They think I’m bringing it back in two days.”

  “Oh, right.”

  “How did your company take the announcement?”

  “Fine, I guess. They were upset that I couldn’t give two weeks notice. It was strange. I hadn’t expected myself to enjoy quitting so much.”

  “You finally realized how much you disliked the job.”

  “I didn’t dislike the job, though. I wasn’t thrilled with it, either. I’m glad to be moving on, but if I wasn’t moving on to the Faith I probably wouldn’t be so happy.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “No, I’m terrified. Well, I mean I’m excited.”

  “Me, too. I am really going to enjoy quitting my job. I like it all right, but the new freedom is still too much to ignore.”

  “I wouldn’t call this project freedom, Ari. We have a lot of work ahead of us, and even when we finish we don’t know what kind of mission this will turn out to be. We’re exploring, sure, but the parameters of our exploration have already been set by Umber. I’d prefer not to count our blessings before we get there.”

  Ari thought for several seconds. “The Faith is a blessing.”

  Five minutes later, John pulled up in front of Ari’s building. As usual there was nowhere to park. This was fine with John since it gave Ari no excuses to dally inside.

  “Aren’t you coming up?” she asked.

  “I have to stay with the truck so that we don’t get a ticket.”

  Ari rolled her eyes. “John, we’re leaving the planet soon. Who cares about a parking ticket?”

  “It will be Ray’s responsibility. If we ever make it back from Umber, he doesn’t need to find a metric shitload of late fees on a stupid parking ticket waiting for him.”

  “Fine, John, I’ll pay the damn ticket before we leave if we get one. I need your help carrying some stuff.”

  John turned on the hazard lights and exited. “Okay, okay.”

  Ari got out and headed onto the sidewalk. John locked the truck. Ari lead the way into the foyer. John couldn’t help but glance back at the Ford as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.

  Ari lived on the fourth floor. John wondered why they hadn’t taken the elevator, and then he remembered how shapely Ari was.

  “Every little bit helps,” he thought.

  Ari unlocked her front door and admitted John.

  “Make yourself at home; I’ll be ready in two minutes.”

  “Okay.”

  John idled around the spacious apartment, finally settling on a sofa chair for a seat. The apartment was about halfway to total chaos, which in John’s opinion wasn’t bad at all. Ari opened and closed dresser drawers in the bedroom.

  “John,” she said, “go make some selections from the liquor cabinet.”

  John shrugged and got up. He entered the kitchen and began poking around. He located the liquor and perused the selections. Ari had excellent taste.

  “Do you have any champagne?” he asked. “We should smack a bottle upside the bow of the Faith.”

  “No, sorry. I do have a bottle of really nasty apricot brandy I’ll probably never finish.”

  “We want to christen the ship, not curse it.”

  Ari emerged from the bedroom carrying a duffel bag. She set it by the front door and joined John in the kitchen just as her phone rang.

  “Don't answer it,” said John.

  Ari observed the Caller ID, and said, “It's my father.”

  “Okay, just be careful what you say.”

  Ari nodded and waited for John to exit the kitchen. He wandered over to one of the living room windows and watched the street below. Ari pressed the talk key on her cordless handset.

  “Hello, dad,” she said.

  “Arianna, it's your father,” said a distant voice.

  “How are you? Are you still in England?”

  “Yes. How have you been?”

  “I'm fine, dad. How long has it been, eight years?”

  “I think so. Listen, Ari, I don't have much time to talk right now. There's just something that I've decided you need to know.”

  “If it's about you remarrying, dad, I already know that. Mom told me that you'd married an English woman.”

  “I did, and we have a child together. I initially thought you didn't need to know that; I know you had a hard time when your mother and I divorced. Still, she is your half-sister and you deserve to know that she exists.”

  “Thanks, I guess. You don't want us to have a relationship, do you? I don't need to be friends to a kid just because we're related.”

  “She's only a baby, Ari, and I don't expect you to fly to England to meet her. However, she may seek you out when she becomes an adult. Whether or not you choose to have any sort of relationship is up to you. Blood runs thickly in our family, although you've always been atypically aloof in such matters.”

  “Color me cynical, but divorce can do that to a person.”

  “Please, Ari, I'm just trying to do the right thing.”

  “I know. What's her name?”

  “Miriam.”

  “That's a beautiful name. Look, I'm kind of busy right now. Can I write you later?”

  “Of course. I guess I'll talk to you later.”

  “Bye, dad.”

  Ari hung up the phone and joined John in the living room. He continued to gaze out of the window.

  “How's your pop?” he asked.

  “Fine. Same old stuff. Hey, John...”

  John turned around. Ari slipped her arms around his waist.

  “Ari, I...”

  “Seth interrupted me, you know,” Ari said softly. “We never did finish talking that night.”

  “About us?”

  “Yes, about us. You never answered my question.”

  “What was the question, again?”

  “Oh, come off it. You know what it was. This whole situation has only distracted us from the issue. Maybe you consider it an excuse not to get on with the rest of your life, but I haven’t forgotten about it.”

  “Ari, I’m not sure trying a new relationship is such a good idea at this stage. We’re all emotionally taxed and worn out. We don’t know what we might be in store for.”

  “Exactly. I want something to be able to hold on to out there. If you and I had something strong... we could be strong together in the face of whatever is out there.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Ari let go of John, defeated.

  “Are you expecting someone?” John asked.

  “It’s probably my landlady,” said Ari, crossing to the door. “She likes to think of herself
as my guardian angel... who is it?”

  With an ear-splitting crash, the door caved in. Swinging violently off of the hinges, the door smashed to the floor. Two men dressed in dark suits rushed inside. They were holding pistols, and the lead man immediately pointed his weapon at Ari.

  “Free...” the man shouted.

  Ari did not let him finish the statement. She side-stepped to the left of the weapon, bringing up her hands. She slapped the pistol out of the man’s hands and followed up with a backhand to his face. As his momentum carried him forward, Ari swept her right leg underneath his feet and soundly knocked him to the ground.

  John overcame his shock and rushed forward. The second man, obviously reluctant to shoot Ari, drew back his pistol and assumed a defensive position. John felt himself drawing his Beretta as he closed the distance to Ari.

  Ari reacted to the second man’s stance by throwing out a back kick. The blow landed squarely on the man’s chest and he stumbled into the hallway. Ari grabbed the duffel bag from the floor and addressed John.

  “Get to the truck!”

  The first man grabbed John’s pant leg. John broke the grip and swung his leg in a tight arc, striking the man on the chin. Ari rushed into the hallway as she drew her Glock, and to John’s horror she shot the second man in the chest. The man collapsed onto the floor.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “We’ve got to get out of here, now!”

  With that exclamation, Ari rushed down the stairs. John hesitated momentarily as he tried to assess how badly the second man was hurt. The first man struggled to get up, and John abandoned this idea. Ari had reached the third floor landing before John made it to the top of the stairwell.

  Ari glanced back at John. A third man in a trenchcoat rounded the landing and all but collided with Ari. John let out a shout and began to descend the stairs.

  The man in the trenchcoat twisted Ari’s arm until the muzzle of her Glock pointed almost at her own head. She resisted, but the man swung around with his free hand and landed a blow to her ribs. Ari stepped aside, attempting to swing her weapon arm free. It didn’t work, the man stepped with her and strengthened his stance. Ari ejected the magazine from her pistol, and then cleared the muzzle from her body just long enough to fire the round in the chamber. The bullet struck the wall behind the man in the trenchcoat, who released his grip on her. He instantly drew back his right leg and threw a wheel kick to Ari’s side, landing on the same point he had hit earlier. She cried out in pain. The man had time to draw his pistol and fire a single shot at John’s feet. Ari lunged towards the man and was stopped by a backfist to the face. The man grabbed one of her flailing arms and twisted himself behind her, until he had Ari by the neck with his left arm. He pointed his pistol at John.

  “Hold it!” he yelled.

  A fourth man in a camouflage jacket appeared on the opposite side of the landing, holding a pistol.

  “Major!” he cried, taking a bead on John and firing a shot.

  The round passed by John’s head and struck the wall. John stumbled back, terrified but confused as to why the man had tried to shoot him. He then remembered that he was still clutching his Beretta. With inhuman speed John reversed course up the stairs in desperate search for cover.

  “Richter,” the man in the trenchcoat said, “get her out of here!”

  Ari struggled against the man’s grip only to be rewarded for her efforts with an armlock from Richter. Ari screamed in protest as Richter lead her away. The man in the trenchcoat carefully caught a glimpse up the stairs. John was at the top of the landing, just out of sight.

  “John Scherer! This is Major Devonai of the CIA. Throw down your weapon and come out with your hands up!”

  John was seized with fear. He knew that if he gave up, the entire mission could be compromised. As he gathered his thoughts John realized that he had to choose between Ari and the Faith and her crew.

  “It was Marks, wasn’t it?” John yelled. “He sold us out!”

  “Nobody sold out anyone. We just want to talk to you. We only want to find out what happened to the Portland.”

  The man who had first kicked down Ari’s door appeared from inside her apartment, pointing his pistol at John. John froze. The man, who was dazed and bleeding, pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. John pointed his Beretta at the man and found himself unable to act.

  “Shit!” he hissed.

  John lunged at the man, who had just figured out that his pistol’s safety was on. John drew back and threw the only martial arts move he knew, a straight front kick to the man’s chest. The man was lifted off the ground as his pistol discharged into the ceiling. He collapsed onto the ground and did not move. John, who could barely hear as it was, heard footsteps on stairs. He looked down the stairwell and saw that Devonai was on his way down. John pushed through the haze in his mind and followed.

  John didn’t see Devonai again until he burst out of the front door of Ari’s building. Richter had pushed Ari into the back seat of a Crown Victoria, and he and Devonai turned to face John. They raised their pistols. John sprinted behind the Expedition as the two agents opened fire. John poked his head up around the hood of the Expedition and realized he had a perfect opening on Richter. He raised his Beretta and gained a sight picture. Richter hadn’t seen him. John’s finger tensed on the trigger but he couldn’t drop the hammer. Devonai and Richter jumped into the Crown Vic and slammed it into reverse. They backed up until they got to an intersection and then turned off.

  And before John could even realize it, the fight was over. John forced himself to think, and climbed into the Expedition. He clumsily holstered his unfired Beretta and jammed the truck into gear. Traffic was preventing him from pulling the same move as the Crown Vic, so he pulled forward down the street. Gathering his thoughts, John at last vocalized what he was thinking.

  “What the hell was that all about?”

  John struggled valiantly to remember the layout of Boston’s streets. He entertained little hope of finding the Crown Vic but it was all he could do. John pulled out his cell phone and dialed. He screwed up the first time, hung up, and tried again. At last Ray answered his phone.

  “Yo, John,” he said.

  “Ray, shut up and listen to me! The CIA just grabbed Ari! They tried to grab us and then opened fire on me when we resisted!”

  “What? Are you kidding me?”

  “No, I am not kidding you! You have got to bring the Faith to pick me up!”

  “Okay, right away. Where are you?”

  “I’m on Clarendon Street in Boston right now. I need to... I need to think of a place you can come get me.”

  “Just get on ninety-three northbound and I’ll think of a place.”

  “Okay. Ray, this is a seriously messed up situation. I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

  “Take it easy, John. Help is on the way.”

  __________

  “Are you all right, Richter?”

  Devonai looked at the bandages on Richter’s arms. He had just come from the lab, where Brockway had dressed his wounds.

  “Yeah. That wildcat really took a chunk out of me with those claws of hers.”

  “You got off easy compared to the others.”

  “How are they?”

  Richter was unaware of his colleague’s conditions, as they had been transported to Mass General.

  “Brackett is pretty soundly screwed up. He’s got a broken hand, two broken ribs, and more bruises than they cared to count. Bearden took a nine millimeter round in his chest. His armor stopped the round but he’s in observation to ensure there isn’t any dangerous bruising around his aorta.”

  “Hmm. I guess my scratches aren’t that bad really.”

  “I’d say so.”

  “How is the woman?”

  “She’s bruised up, nothing worse. I’m about to begin questioning her.”

  “Okay. I’ll be in Hill’s office if you need me.”

  “Thanks.”

 
Devonai turned to face the door to the interrogation room. It was nothing more than an empty office, really, and hadn’t been used for this purpose before. Devonai wasn’t planning anything special so it would do just fine. Before entering, Devonai removed the magazine from his pistol and cleared the round from the chamber. He reinserted the magazine and secured the weapon in his holster. He kept the round in his left hand. Devonai took a deep breath and entered.

  “You sons of bitches have quite a style, you know,” said Ari.

  Ari sported a cigarette, a cup of tepid coffee, and a weeping shiner on her cheek. Devonai sat down across the table from Ari.

  “You’d excuse our tactics if you realize we weren’t expecting you to fight back so... effectively.”

  “I’d say thanks for the compliment, but here I am.”

  “You should be thankful that my men are going to be all right. I have little sympathy for people who kill my officers.”

  “Then maybe you should refrain from such idiotic, ham-handed operations in the future.”

  “Clove cigarettes?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I?”

  Ari shrugged. “What do I care?”

  Devonai accepted a cigarette from Ari and lit it.

  “Enough small talk. My primary concern is to determine what happened to the Portland. I got a pretty wild story from Mister Marks about what happened to it. Perhaps you could enlighten me.”

  Ari was silent. Devonai puffed the mildly-scented cigarette smoke into the air.

  “Okay, then,” he continued, “I’ll tell you what I already know, Miss Arianna Ferro. You and your friend Scherer assaulted federal agents carrying out a lawful arrest of suspects. If you hold out on me I’ll have no choice but to hand you over to the legal system.”

  “You can’t threaten me,” said Ari. “If you handed me over to the locals, you’d have to tell them why your agents were attempting to arrest John and I in the first place. What are you going to tell them?”

  “I can tell them anything I wish. Maybe you and Scherer were simply ‘persons of interest,’ as they like to say these days. We only wished to ask you some questions.”

  “By kicking down my door?”

  “We have direct evidence that you and Scherer were somehow involved in the disappearance of a multi-million dollar Navy vessel. That’s enough to detain you for a long time. Even if we did decide to turn you over to the legal system, it wouldn’t be for months. So far you’ve demonstrated that you’ve got some serious guts, my dear Arianna. But let’s not concentrate on what will happen to you if you don’t cooperate. Let’s talk about what will happen if you do.”