by Saul, Jonas
I’ve been in worse places. This is a Holiday Inn compared to the shed with the hole in the ground I escaped from months ago.
She lifted her shirt up over her nose. Breathing got easier as the aroma in the room filtered through her own clean smell.
How long would this charade last?
If there was one thing Sarah had learned in the past, it was that things were not always as bad as they seemed. Something was up with that immigration officer. He had a bone to pick with her somehow. Whatever his problem was, he was the least of her worries.
Her family didn’t have the money for lawyers. If these Hungarians really wanted to throw the proverbial book at her, she didn’t know what she could do. Although, they would have to prove those charges…and - her status being what it was in the States - she was sure her embassy would get involved in any court action, if it ever got that far.
The problem was she actually had come all this way to find and kill Armond but she wasn’t sure how they knew that, or what intelligence they had to back it up.
Maybe this was an intervention. Sarah knew that it wasn’t who she was as a person. Her inner struggle since she’d been here was how could she pull the trigger? If she found Armond walking down the street, how could she just walk up and shoot him? She saved people. She helped people. Her goal was hope. Hope for the human race. Not murder.
Too lofty, she thought.
But that was why she had to kill Armond. To keep safe the other girls he would attack and kill. Sarah knew that a man like Armond would never stop. The recent debacle at the Mormon Compound would only slow him down.
Somewhere along the way, Sarah had to stop him.
A door opened down the hallway somewhere. She could hear multiple pairs of shoes echoing along the chamber.
No one talked.
Maybe she was getting a cell mate? With men you never know what they’ll deliver. She wouldn’t put it past them to give her a rapist for a cell mate and in the morning say sorry, they made a mistake. That kind of thing would fuck her over and keep their hands clean in the process. Then they’d have her for murder.
The rapist would be the one fucked over in this case.
As the footsteps neared she had gotten off the bed and edged back into the corner where a small amount of moisture had pooled into a tiny puddle.
Then a trio of men stepped into view.
All three she recognized. Imre the arresting detective, the immigration officer and her personal stalker: Officer Parkman.
He stood there with a half smile and a toothpick in his mouth.
“Are you serious?” Sarah asked.
Imre was reaching for keys but stopped. “What?”
Sarah continued to stare at Parkman. “All this way?”
Parkman shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head. “I know, I know.”
“All this way and you still eat those fucking toothpicks like they’re made of chocolate.”
Imre turned and looked at Parkman. “You fly from the States, take a leave of absence and vouch for her and all she has to say to you is something about your toothpick?”
Parkman turned to him. “You don’t know Sarah. This is her way of showing she’s happy to see me. If she wasn’t, she’d attack the bars trying to get at me. She’s quite the girl. I’ve never met a tougher person in my life. And that goes for cops. What she’s been through—”
“Hey!” Sarah yelled. “Enough. If you’ve come to get me out then let’s do this. But don’t come down here and treat these men with fictitious stories of bravery. Anything I’ve been through in my life any other person could’ve done.” She stopped, stepped forward and raised her index finger as if testing the air. “This isn’t Sarah Day, is it? Because if this is Sarah Day, someone should’ve told me.”
All three men stared at her. Imre still held the keys in his hand. No one moved.
Finally Parkman bumped Imre’s arm. He jolted and mumbled something.
After trying two keys, Imre got the cell door open and beckoned for Sarah to follow them. They left the dank basement cells behind, processed her paperwork and gave her luggage to Parkman.
“Where will you be staying before your plane leaves?” Imre asked.
“Back to the Best Western for another night and then we’re gone.”
“Don’t deviate.” Imre warned.
The immigration officer was strangely quiet the whole time. When Sarah got to the exit doors she turned back and looked directly at him for a moment. The look on his face was brutal and told her a story. She was only twenty feet away from him and she could see absolute fury on his face. Something was definitely wrong. He couldn’t just hate her because of her reputation. She’d done nothing personally to him. But that couldn’t be right. This ran deep. This was personal for him. He had a stake in her somehow and Sarah was determined to find out what it was before she left Hungary.
Outside in Parkman’s car, he turned to her and asked, “You hungry?”
“Sure, since we’re in Hungary, let’s be Russian to Turkey and…” She looked up at him. He wasn’t smiling. “Okay, I know, juvenile, but when I was a kid it was funny.”
“You were a kid once?”
He put the rental in gear and pulled away from the curb.
“What happened? What did you do? You know how hard it was for me to get you out of there?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Hard.”
“Oh,” was all she said.
“At first they said they had all these charges and then after a little scrutiny I found out they actually had nothing on you. They couldn’t even find the gun they claim you stole off one of their cops last night. They had no proof but I still had to threaten to bring in American lawyers from the embassy. I explained that holding you would create an international incident. Which one of them would want to lose their jobs first, I asked them. For a minute I thought I would be arrested myself. It was Imre who relented. That immigration officer was a prick all the way. Did you do anything specific to him?”
Sarah leaned forward and pulled down the sun visor as the setting summer sun was coming straight in at her.
Parkman looked over. “What’s that smell?”
“Urine.”
“You piss yourself?”
“No. The prison cell was covered in piss.”
“Oh. Great.”
He lowered his window a little and spit the toothpick in his mouth out into the road. He looked over again. “It started to taste like piss.”
“You know what piss tastes like?” She smiled.
“Glad to see you’ve got your humor.”
“How come you’re here? And why did you vouch for me?” she asked.
“Oh, hey, thanks. You know, I could’ve left you there.”
“How could you get here so fast? It’s a ten hour flight. They put me in that cell two hours ago.”
“After I met with your dad I decided to come out here and find out what you were up to. I took a leave of absence. I’ve been in Budapest for about two weeks. It wasn’t until today that I found out where you were.”
“You serious?”
“Yes.”
“They knew where I was the whole time.”
“I don’t have their resources. Remember, this isn’t my jurisdiction. They aren’t going to let just anyone in on their investigations because I’m a cop.” He paused and looked sideways at her again. “Wait, what do you mean they knew where you were?”
“They’ve been watching me. They know everything about me. Even my issues with hair-pulling from years ago.”
“But why? As far as anyone in Europe should know, you’re just an American girl traveling within the Schengen Area. You get up to three months in the Schengen Area without a problem on your American passport.”
“They’ve been following me and watching me, but from afar. I’ve been here for over a month and I just found out. They’re good. Too good. I need to find out why.”
“Oh no. We have to leave Budap
est. Every day you stay here is ammunition for them.”
Parkman turned onto a busy street, dropped the Opel into a lower gear, ground the gear and then hit the gas, shooting them forward. He eased it back into third and cruised again.
“Sorry, not used to the stick shift. Couldn’t rent an automatic for the prices they were asking. At least not on my salary.”
“What are you doing here? Seriously. I do appreciate being out of jail, but why come in the first place?”
“You have an uncanny ability to find trouble. I think sometimes you need backup.”
“I do pretty good on my own.”
“I know. But ask yourself. What would’ve happened if I didn’t follow those leads to the compound a few months back? Your wrist was broken. You had hair missing and you were shot and bleeding.”
“The hair was my doing so that doesn’t count.”
They stopped talking. He looked at her sideways. She avoided his gaze.
A few blocks from the hotel, Parkman pulled up at a pizza take-away joint. Hungarian pizza took some getting used to but Sarah devoured her slices without thought of quality.
“Thanks,” she said.
He looked up at her and nodded.
“No, I mean thanks for being there for me. You know I appreciate it. I’m just no good at letting people know it.”
He slowed his chewing and looked up at her. With a mouthful he mumbled a you’re welcome.
Back in the car, Parkman turned away from the Best Western and drove deeper into the city center.
“Where are we going?” Sarah asked.
“To the Hotel Erzsebet. It’s near the center of town, close to the popular Váci street. It’s also close to the main shopping areas and near the Great Market Hall.”
“What? We’re tourists now and not terrorists?”
“Sarah, we have to show them that you were here for fun and to get away from the shit in America. After a day or so we will grab a flight back to the States and everything will be over. Besides, they shouldn’t get all fucked up about it because you’re hanging out with a cop.”
“It won’t be over for me.”
“I know. If they really were monitoring you, then they would have the Best Western bugged better than a stakeout on the mafia while looking for Hoffa’s remains.”
Sarah turned to him and frowned. “What?”
“Nothing. Look, this is safer.”
“Two rooms?”
“I’d have it no other way.”
She saw his smile. With no toothpick in his mouth it was a rare full smile.
They checked in, got to their rooms and said goodnight. Both of them had agreed to leave the door adjoining their rooms unlocked just in case.
Exhausted, Sarah sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the television. Turning it on would’ve been more entertaining but she hadn’t gotten around to it quite yet.
A shower was first. Then new clothes. Maybe a drink from the minibar and then sleep.
Yeah, sleep. Who knew when she’d get another full night of sleep.
Shit was getting real, and fast.
That immigration officer was coming after her. She could feel it. When the time came she would have to deal with him.
Her arm twitched.
What? No fucking way.
Her arm went numb. She stood up, grabbed the little pad of paper and pen on the desk and sat on the floor.
Then a dark mist enveloped her vision and Sarah blacked out completely.
Parkman’s voice woke her.
She opened her eyes and looked around. The room was the same. The only difference was Parkman. He sat on the edge of her bed. He had the pad in his hand.
She lifted her head and then got up on one elbow.
“Wow. It’s been over a month since that’s happened. I forgot how debilitating it can be. It really knocks you out.”
“I knocked a few times. You didn’t answer. When I came in, you were just dropping this from your hand.” He looked back at the paper he held. “I think you better read it.”
She got up off the floor and sat on the bed beside him. He handed her the pad.
I’m sorry. I should’ve made contact sooner but they had a camera on you and parabolic listening devices. They were watching for contact from me. I think someone wants you for a psychic awareness government project of some kind. I’m looking into it.
Armond is in Budapest.
Tomorrow, 2:12pm, at The Great Market Hall you will see his new face by the red Ape.
Warning: It all ends at the Crypt. Only nine days left.
I’m so sorry Sarah…see you soon.
Chapter 5
The sun lit the sky with a bright purplish color as it rose on another summer morning in Budapest. Sarah had left the hotel at five in the morning while Parkman was still sleeping in his room.
They had talked for over an hour about the message from Vivian and the futility of hunting Armond. Their best course of action was to give the information to the police, so they would know where Armond was and arrest him. Killing Armond was murder and there really was no way around it.
Sarah had listened to Parkman, had considered her options. But during their conversation she came up with an altogether different plan.
Parkman went to his room and Sarah slept. Now it was close to 5:30am. She’d left their hotel and was just now approaching the Best Western.
As far as she could tell, no one was watching the entrance. With her gone their surveillance would have been pulled. She waited for fifteen minutes, watching the vehicles passing. She checked the parked cars in the area and saw they were all empty.
Time to go. She crossed the street, stepped in the front doors and made her way through the lobby to the couch where she had stashed the gun. The night staff behind the counter had nodded at her and then turned away as she was preparing coffee. No one else was in the lobby.
Sarah grabbed a newspaper that sat on a nearby table and eased herself down beside where she’d stashed the gun.
She opened the paper and began scanning the Hungarian news even though she couldn’t read a damn thing.
One last look around the lobby confirmed no one present. She was completely alone.
With her right hand she reached down behind the cushion and into the back of the couch feeling around for the steel grip of the weapon.
Her fingers brushed something. A metal wire or the gun?
She lowered her shoulder as she half-turned and kept a watchful eye on the front desk. At this hour the hotel traffic was minimal which was one of the reasons she choose to leave her hotel at five in the morning.
Her fingers came into contact with the cop’s gun. She wrapped her hand around the butt of the weapon and began lifting it. Using her left hand she folded the newspaper in half to use it as a shield for the gun.
In one quick movement she slid the weapon out into the open and under the cover of the newspaper.
Perfect.
In that same moment a man entered the lobby from the outside. She stared at him, waiting to see his intentions. He only had a few choices. Go to the front desk and make an inquiry or walk through to the elevators. Anything other than that and her radar would be pinging.
She stood up and then stopped. Where had she seen him before? A quick look over her shoulder and she remembered. He was the man watching English and his two gypsy friends follow her the other night. He’d tipped his hat at her.
She stepped over to another couch and sat where she could watch him.
He looked like he dropped out of the fifties. As he shuffled along toward the counter, she took in his suit and spit-polished black shoes.
His beige fedora struck her as very “Cary Grant”. He looked like a 1950’s FBI agent.
She waited and watched.
He made it to the main desk. The woman stepped out from a room behind the counter with a new coffee in her hand and said something in Hungarian. From where Sarah sat watching, all she heard was a whisper of their conver
sation.
Fedora Man reached in his pocket and produced a wallet of some sort. He showed it to her and the woman turned from him and walked back into the room behind the counter.
