by Jack Hammond
“This is going to take time. I'll have to call in a few favours.”
“That’s really not of any interest to me.” Sarah informed him as she took another sip of her coffee.
Paul watched his words; this was no time for confrontation. “I’ll inform you when I can get the footage.”
“Wait,” Sarah said as Paul stood. “I will be out of contact later today, I will need you to call my colleague here with the information.”
Paul shook his head at her, sneering slightly. “Did you just hear what I said?” he asked. “I just told you, I don’t know when I will be able to get the information. This afternoon is...” he paused. “Unlikely.”
Sarah placed her cup down, turning towards him. “I will expect my colleague to receive the footage I have requested within the next three hours. I will not accept failure.”
Paul stood up, banging the chair against the table, he marched away.
“Seems agitated,” Edward said.
“Yes, he is a difficult acquisition. But a useful one,” Sarah smiled. “I was the only one willing to take him on, he would've been ghosted.”
“Really, how absolutely generous of you.” Edward laughed. “Ghosted, there’s a phrase I haven't heard in a long time.”
“It still goes on at higher levels.” Sarah replied.
“It does not surprise me.”
Paul made his way out of the bookstore, he was so angry he had not winced from his wound, since he’d left the third floor. He headed through the square after deciding not to waste time. Paul went directly to the castle and hoped flashing his warrant card would be enough to get access to the footage. He crossed Friar Lane and suddenly felt the wound hurt. A sharp burning sensation stopped him. He placed his hand on it and gritted his teeth.
“Get a move on Paul.” He said urgently to himself, before taking out his mobile and making a call.
Max sat on a wall drinking a hot coffee, he faced a large works building. The bare trees sat in front of the structure, which was mostly glass. He could see some of the people at their desks, others moving from floor to floor. To Max it looked like a sort of works version of a human body. The people sat at desks were the organs and the runners who dashed around with files and stacks of paperwork were the blood cells. This wasn’t why he was here. He only appeared to be enthralled in the building; his real target was the school opposite. He had no intention of staring at that particular building for hours on end. Somebody would most certainly call the police.
Max answered his phone, “Hello Mr Ruben.”
“Yeah, hello. I just had that meeting,” he said. “I've been told to get footage from Nottingham Castle, I have a date and time. Hold on...” Paul attempted to retrieve the paper from his pocket.
“It’s not necessary Mr Ruben, I am aware of the date and time they have requested.” Max knew they were looking for him.
“You are?”
“Yes.”
Paul clenched his fist, “If you knew, why the hell do you need me? Huh.”
He had a point Max thought. “We know some, not all. Keep me informed about what you find.”
“Fine… I’m heading there now. I’ll update you if I manage to get in.” He explained, unconvincingly.
Max looked up at the building as he put his phone away. There was a lot of glass in the Associates huge office within the expanse, but he had seen nothing they hadn’t wanted him to. Max felt another moment of regret regarding Paul Ruben. He was a man who'd been manipulated in a world he couldn't have imagined. Max doubted as a child, he had dreamed about growing up to be used by faceless people, doing things he either didn’t want to do or hated doing. Max on the other hand had gone into it with his eyes wide open. As a sixteen year old, he knew everything about everything and he'd made a choice Max was now living with. It was odd, it appeared the older Max got the less he seemed to know.
Paul took a seat in front of the light brown plywood desk, interlocked his fingers and waited patiently. Three metal filing cabinets sat against the back wall; to his right an action board proudly adorned the wall. A few bar charts, graphs and business jargon terminology was highlighted in bold colourful lettering. Things like ‘maximum production output’ or ‘pre-prepare forward’ and the one Paul did not understand ‘holistic approach’. What the hell did that crap mean? He laughed silently. Then his attention drifted to the almost bare window sill, where three yellow daffodils sat solemnly drooping.
The thin office door behind him rattled open with a firm pull, seconds later the middle aged security lady passed him and placed a clip board down on the desk. She turned, with her greying hair and worn expression, the head of security forced a smile.
“Detective Ruben, I’m so sorry for the wait.” She began.
“Really, it’s not a problem.” He replied showing her his identification. She slipped on a thin pair of reading glasses and squinted at the warrant card.
“Thank you for seeing me at such short notice.”
“How can I help you?”
“I was wondering if it would be possible to view some CCTV footage.”
The lady pursed her lips and moved around the table, taking a seat. “Can I ask what it is you’re looking for?” she asked. The fact that no police had been called, or crimes committed made his request puzzling.
“It’s complicated.” Paul admitted honestly.
“I really need a reason to view CCTV images, paperwork needs to be filled in. For reports, you know.”
Paul laughed. “Reports, don’t I just know it,” he smiled. “The truth of the matter is, I am following a hunch.”
“A hunch?” the lady looked unimpressed.
“I need to check something out, it won’t take two minutes.” Paul told her. “If you could turn a blind eye, just this once.”
“I’m sorry detective, it’s a procedural thing. You understand, being in the same line of work.” She explained.
Same line of work? Again he laughed silently. This silly woman actually believed she was some kind of police officer; this could work in his favour. “I understand,” he said standing. “I just thought, with us being on the same side, some departmental courtesy would be on offer.” He smiled. “I'll get my superior to file a few forms, you know how it is.” He explained. “Run it up the flag pole.” He’d noticed that phrase on the board to his right. “Then in a couple of days, you’ll get a request and I’ll come back with a mountain of paperwork. We’ll sit down with the footage, I’ll see it was a waste of time and you can spend three or four hours sorting all the relevant forms and what not.”
She sat quietly for a moment. Not saying anything just staring, her mind running through the amount of paperwork she would be buried in when he returned.
“Anyway, I’ll be off.” He said attempting to leave the room. Paul hadn’t even closed the door before he was called back.
“Detective Ruben!” she shouted out, “I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Oh if you’re sure. It won’t be any hassle?”
“No, no!” she rushed herself around the desk.
“It saves me a lot of time, I really can’t thank you enough.”
They made their way along the hallway; the security lady led him into the second door on the right. The room was filled with monitors, three walls completely covered. The young man sat in the swivel chair spun around as the light from the hallway illuminated his dark little cavern.
“Janice!” he snapped as if he was being interrupted from important work.
“Michael! This is Detective Ruben, he needs to see some footage.” She replied sternly to him.
“Oh, right. Sorry.” He said looking down at the floor.
Janice turned to Paul, another forced smile. “Michael will get what you need.”
Paul smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”
The young lad waited for Janice to depart. “So what is it you’re looking for?”
Paul reached into his pocket for the paper Sarah had given him. “I ne
ed to see the tapes of this.” He informed him passing over the paper.
“Tapes?” he scoffed. “We’re all digital here.”
“Whatever, I just need to see them.”
Michael tapped his fingers across the keyboard and then drawing Paul’s attention to the big monitor he clicked the play button. “There you go.”
Paul leaned in; the cafe on the far side of the castle was on view. He moved back, he suddenly felt the anger he had, when he’d finished with Sarah and her friend rushing back, only more intensely. “Can you print me a picture of that?”
“Sure can.” Michael said sliding across the room to the printer. “Want a close up?”
“Yes. The two men and two kids, please.”
Michael fed some paper into the printer, his chair whooshed back across to the keyboard and with a swift tap of a key it was off. “Be two seconds.”
“Thank you.” Paul said. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, he knew instantly it wasn’t the men they were interested in. Paul’s gut was telling him it was the two kids, they were after the kids!
The pedestrians on Friar Lane blurred past him, he clutched the pictures in his hand. Paul’s head was everywhere, what had he done? The people he was involved with were after children and he was helping them. He recognised one of the men, but he was dead. Paul had seen enough crime scene photos of him, he was absolutely sure he was dead, it was the two boys. He stopped and leaned against a wall for a moment. So what now? He asked himself? What do you do with these pictures?
Paul’s mind shifted to his young son, how could he live with himself? His son was the only thing he'd ever got right, and he didn’t realise that until he'd left with his mother. He looked at the photos again and narrowed his eyes. A close up of the second man, something seemed familiar about him. He knew him! Paul reached into his inside jacket pocket and took out a black pen. He used the wall and scribbled a disorderly amount of hair onto his head.
“Jesus Christ,” Paul growled. It was the man the whole country was looking for. The son of a bitch who’d kidnapped Thomas Kern. He was working with them, that’s why they couldn’t find him.
The special task force that was assigned to track down the mystery man, had lots of theories. One of them was he worked with a network of kiddie snatchers, but even they wouldn’t have guessed the network was filled with police, court officials and God knows who else. Paul took out his phone and just stared at it, he could only stare. He imagined what a crazy fool he looked like from the outside.
“Right, who’s first?” he mumbled. The truth was he wasn’t sure what he would tell them. A thought popped into his head, it was crazy, insane. What would the repercutions be for his family if he killed them? In a set up like they had, if he managed to rid himself of them, more would take their place. He'd just been turned into a double agent by a new group of individuals, what was their agenda?
Paul selected the number and waited, a few rings later the man answered.
“Yes, Mr Ruben. What have you found out?” Max said.
“Kids.” He snarled down the phone, “You’re after kids!”
“Excuse me?” Max replied surprised.
“Your little group of creepy shits. They’re kiddie snatching scum, are you lot as well? You into kids huh?”
“Mr Ruben, calm yourself.” Max said authoritatively. “What kids? What are you on about?”
“The footage I was asked to acquire, it’s of two men. One’s dead. The other's at large for kidnapping a child and then there’s two boys. Most of it is just these two boys, so I think that the bastard that took the one kid, is looking to strike again.”
Max fell silent, he couldn’t believe it. He should've realised he and Martin weren't the only ones there that day. The fact the officer had already built up a theory and Max was the main suspect wasn’t good. “Mr Ruben, things are complicated.”
“No shit!” he snapped. “I didn’t sign up for snatching kids, I’d rather go down or worse, than set a kid up with scum like you.”
Max knew he assumed the children were being moved into some abusive environment, to a certain extent it was true, but not the way Paul Ruben imagined it. Max couldn’t just blurt out who he was and expect him to take his word. The Associates were after the boy, by using his friend to locate him.
"I'll not be party to this anymore. I don’t care what’s at stake now." Ruben angrily spat down the phone. "I know you people have pull, you’re powerful but…" he paused. “Screw the lot of you.”
“We are trying to stop them.” Max lied, well at least he thought he was. He was no wiser to the expanse’s plan, than poor Mr Ruben was.
“Liar!”
“No, we are.” Max needed to be quick, he needed to sound confident and not dwell on his words. “The images show the man suspected of taking the child.”
“Suspected?”
“Please, Mr Ruben. We believe he is being used just as we are.” Max added the we hoping to identify with Paul. “The power we serve, is trying to bring them down. You are an integral part of the mission.”
“Even if you’re telling the truth. Even if you’re trying to stop them, I can’t give them these.” He said plainly. “Under no circumstances am I going to hand over these pictures. If I do and tomorrow one of them goes missing. It’s on me, not you, or anyone else. Just me.”
The detective had more scruples than Max had given him credit for, he was actually a good guy. He wondered how exactly he had gained the notice of the Associates and what they had done to turn him. The way he was talking Max had no doubt in his mind, he was genuinely serious.
“Let me contact my people. I will call you back, Paul. Like you I also would not like another child at risk.” Max explained. “But the larger picture may require it. You need to be ready to take that risk, things we do are never easy, they are however, necessary.”
“I don’t care. I can’t go through with it. I’m supposed to be contacting that fedora wearing arse within the next hour.”
“Fedora?” Max said out loud. Edward! If he was involved things weren't as bad as they appeared to be.
“Yeah, the guy that Sarah met with. I didn’t get a name, but he’s in his fifties maybe, haggard face and wears a fedora.”
You’d be haggard too if you had been involved with the Associates as long as Edward had. “He’s one of ours.” Max found himself saying without thinking.
“You what?”
Damn it Max! He chastised himself. “Yes, he's with us.”
“So what do you need me for?” Paul seemed even more confused. “If you have people inside their ranks, why do you need me?”
“Every good fight needs good people Paul. You’re a good person.”
Paul glanced at the pictures in his hand again. “Talk to whoever and call me back. If I don’t get some assurances,” he paused. “I’m calling yours and their bluff. I can’t be involved, people are one thing, kids are another.” He said hanging up.
Max wasted no time. He had to leave Wesley to fend for himself for now. He realised the danger was not imminent but if he didn’t get back to Paul in time, the plan the expanse had would be seriously hindered. Max sent a quick text alerting whoever it was, he needed to visit the dark urgently. With any luck he would receive confirmation before he reached home, saving him as much time as possible.
He entered the expanse; the swirling winds within the vortex were less threatening. Max could not believe he was actually getting used to the darkness, he wasn’t completely sure if that was a good or bad thing. The creature took form, moving toward Max it spoke.
“What is the urgency?” it asked.
“The detective, he has been tasked with finding the boy.”
“That is well in hand. The boy is concealed from them.” He informed his subordinate.
“His friend too?” Max inquired.
It said nothing at first, “Friend?”
Max realised then, this power like the Associates was not all seeing. “Yes, Paul Rube
n has found the boys friend. Well an image of him.”
The dark fell silent once again.
“He said he’s going to blow the lid before he gives up the pictures. He won’t go along with it because children are involved.”
Still nothing.
Max continued. “He said he would need assurances before he would hand them over. I even told him Edward was with us. I didn’t mean to, it just came out. I could see we were losing him.” Max explained, hoping the expanse would not hold him in contempt for his mistake.
“Edward, you say?” it finally answered.
“Yes, I am sorry.”
“The boy is our main concern, this friend…” there was a pause and then it callously said. “Is not.”
“But he can lead them to the boy,” selfishly adding. “To me too, they can find me.”
“You Max Carter, like the boy are protected.” It rasped.
“I can’t guarantee he will play along.” Max admitted honestly. “He’s a father, he must be from his reactions. That makes him a whole different animal.”
“He will do as he is instructed or he will be dismissed.”
Max understood that dismissed meant dead. “I don’t think that threat will hold, I think he’s serious. If he blows the whistle, even threatening his family wouldn’t work.”
“Explain.”
“If he tells them he has been working for an organised ring of child snatchers, because they threatened his family, they would be put under protection. Questions would be asked if something happened. Maybe not enough to reveal the true nature of the Associates, but enough to cause unwanted attention.”
“Max Carter.” The voice rasped. “You have proven to be quite the asset.” The voice complemented.
“I don’t understand what the final goal is for you. It’s not my business, but the closer to the boy the Associates get the more dangerous it becomes. Not just for him, but for me.” Max said honestly. “I’m a big fan of self-preservation, more now than ever.”
“Max Carter you are protected.” It repeated.
That didn’t make it so Max thought, “I am grateful, truly I am.”
