Face Blind

by Len Melvin

  ‘Sure.’ He had agreed, not thinking. Five minutes later it occurred to him he was the guardian of a large group of bags in a public square in a city when there had been bombs detonating. “Oh shit,” he said aloud. He moved to the side so that the statue was between him and the bags but glanced every five seconds to ensure no one was stealing them. He made the motion of the Cross and then hoped that he hadn’t been set up. It had been that momentary, unconscious motion that had saved him.

  The woman had suddenly reappeared with her boyfriend and had invited him for a drink. He had accompanied them to Plaza del Pino where they had shared a bottle of wine. Later, they had invited him to their small apartment in the El Borne neighborhood for tapas. He had actually waited, intrigued in some way about the couple. They were different. But after another bottle of wine, he had tired of them and had moved upon the man. The girl had really fought him and during the short fight she had pulled a machete from a closet but he had taken it from her and knocked her teeth out with the butt of its handle. He then tied her up and returned to the closet for an inspection as to what else might be in there. He had found a large batch of explosives in a dark corner under a thick blanket. It had taken a while but he had gotten the story from her. She and her boyfriend were Falangists and were hoping to initiate conflict between Spain and Catalonia. The Church had always sided with Franco and the Falangists and him crossing himself had caused her to abort the ignition of the explosives in the bags he had been watching. Uncharacteristically, he had ended it quickly with her. Maybe because she had spared him or he had just experienced a spate of boredom with supposed revolutionaries.

  Miguel fingered the small glass of wine, twirling it on the bar as he went over the details of his encounter with the terrorists. How had the sketch of him been so good? Who could have done that? And how had they traced him? He had been astonished at the quality and detail of the drawing. It was almost like a photo of him. The first one he had seen he had ripped off the wall and stuffed it in his backpack, hoping it was an outlier. Then he saw them everywhere. The only place he had been in public with the couple was in the Plaza del Pino and he hadn’t seen any video cameras. And how could someone have drawn him with such detail?

  The real question, he realized was, who had given the description of him to whoever had drawn it. He pulled the drawing from his backpack and held it so that only he could see it. Under the drawing was an instruction to contact a Detective Diaz with the Barcelona Guardia Civil if anyone had information about the person in the drawing. A thin smile that exposed overlaid teeth came over his face. He, himself had information, so maybe he should contact Detective Diaz. Maybe it’s time for the detective to undergo some interrogation himself.

  Miguel laughed aloud so that the bartender turned from the futbol game on the television. How long would it take a detective to crack and tell him who had identified him? He laughed again and louder. The bartender stared at him until Miguel held his glass up a mock toast. The bartender turned his attention back to the television.

  ◆◆◆

  Christina collapsed into a seat at a bar in the Barcelona airport. “Oh, God.” She held her head in both of her hands. “Oh, God,” she repeated, moaning in a low purr. “And now there’s an eight-hour flight with a hangover.”

  “I told you that those absinthes were dangerous.” Madeleine set her backpack beside the bar and put a leg of the barstool through one of its straps. “And it’s more like ten hours than eight.”

  “It was eight here.”

  “That’s with a tailwind. When you fly back, you’re flying into the wind.”

  Christina let out a loud moan. “And you didn’t tell me the absinthes were dangerous until after I had had three. It’s not advice I can take at that point.”

  “They didn’t seem to affect your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “It sure looked like it last night.”

  “Oh, God,” Christina repeated, dropping her hands. “What did I do?”

  Madeleine leaned over and hugged Christina. “What didn’t you do might be easier to detail.” Madeleine held up two fingers to the bartender. “Two beers.”

  Christina put her head in her arms, face down on the bar. The bartender placed the beers on the counter, and Christina raised her head again. “I guess it can’t make me feel any worse.” She took a deep breath and then took multiple sips of beer. She exhaled as she finished, then wiped a sleeve across her mouth. “So, tell me. Really.” She turned halfway in her seat confronting Madeleine. “What did I do?”

  “Well, you were all over Simon.”

  Christina dipped her head into her hand. “And?” She peeked through the fingers of her hand.

  “Before or after you were dancing on the bar?”

  Christina jerked her head up and slapped her forehead. “Oh, God, I just remembered that.”

  “Don’t worry.” Madeleine patted Christina on the back. “It was two in the morning in another country. No one’s going to remember.” Madeleine took a sip of beer. “Except me,” she added. Christina looked up at Madeleine. “And Simon.” She held her phone up. “And my cell phone.”

  “Give me that,” Christina lunged for the phone, but Madeleine held it just out of her reach. “You got pictures of me?”

  “Oh, yeah. And classic ones.”

  “Oh, God,” Christina moaned.

  “They’re going into the album, ‘Christina’s greatest hits.’”

  “At least I’m not boring, I guess.”

  “That you’re not.”

  “You know, it was a great two weeks traveling around Spain. I’m surprised he was still in Barcelona when we got back.”

  “I guess, right now, he has nowhere to go.” Madeleine stood and stretched. “It was a great two weeks. I think San Sebastian was my favorite. It’s so beautiful there and the food was incredible.” She eased herself back into her seat. “I’m gonna have to start working out when I get back.”

  Christina took another sip of beer. She unraveled her bun which had been attached off-center on top of her head and shook out her hair. The thick blonde hair whipped from one side to the other and then she tethered it with one hand and corralled it into a thick rope and placed it over one shoulder. “So, tell me, how was Simon when I was doing all this?”

  “He was great. He kept an arm around you and his eyes on you. But he didn’t hit on you or anything. More like he was protecting you.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “I think you like him.”

  “I did. But it was just a kind of vacation crush. I probably won’t ever see him again.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “He doesn’t know how to contact me. And he doesn’t even know where he’s headed.”

  “Oh, he knows how to contact you.”

  “I told him?”

  “Nope.” Madeleine smiled as she drank from her beer. “I did.”

  Christina straightened in her seat. “What?”

  “Look, I saw how you were with him. Your eyes were, like, glowing. I haven’t seen you like that in a long time.”

  “He was cute. And cool. But what makes you think he liked me?”

  “I could tell. He didn’t do anything because I guess what had happened with his girlfriend but I could tell by the way he treated you. You guys looked good together.”

  “Well, I’m in D.C. and he’s in, God-knows-where.”

  “Oh, I have a feeling he’s coming to D.C. soon.” Madeleine held up two fingers to the bartender.

  “Why?” Christina picked up her beer, but hesitated, waiting for an answer.

  “Because I told him that I could get him a job working for the Boss.”

  “Whattt?” Christina turned in her seat, eyes narrowed. “You did what? Why?”

  “Did you see what he did the other day at the cafe? And you know what? He used to work for the Secret Service.”

  “Get out. Really? How do you know that?”

  “I was talki
ng to him when you were dancing on the bar.” Christina’s face flushed pink. “I was asking him all kinda questions.”

  “He used to work for the Secret Service?”

  “Sure did. In the Protective Intelligence Division. And I think the Boss would love him. He’s always looking for good people.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Basically it’s the guys that do cyber stuff looking for threats online.” Madeleine rose again, bent and touched her toes. She sat and took a large swallow of beer. “I think he’d be good in Protective Operations.”

  “What’s that?”

  “They’re the ones closest to the president. Counter ops, explosive detection. That sort of thing. I think he’d be good at that.”

  “I don’t see how you can still work for that guy.”

  “It’s not easy sometimes.”

  “Then why do you do it, Madeleine? It’s not you. You have more of a heart than that.” Christina nudged Madeleine with an elbow. “And conscience.”

  “I always think that it’s better to be there and at least maybe have some influence than if I wasn’t and he could just run around unfettered. I think that if he…”

  Christina gasped and clinched Madeleine’s arm, her attention fixed on a spot over Madeleine’s shoulder. Her eyes widened and she tried to speak but couldn’t.

  “What?” Madeleine asked.

  Christina’s mouth opened and with her other hand she pointed. Madeleine turned her head to see a man seated next to her reading a newspaper and drinking an espresso.

  “What?” She turned back to Christina.

  Christina’s expression hadn’t changed, but the color had drained from her face. She put a hand over her mouth. “The newspaper,” she managed to eke out.

  Madeleine turned and glanced at the headline. “What?”

  “The pictures,” Christina said, her voice weak.

  Madeleine stared at Christina for a long moment and then turned full in her chair and faced the man behind her. She studied the front page of the paper and then drew air through pursed lips. “Oh, my God,” she breathed out slowly.

  The bartender placed two beers on the bar in front of them and in bad English quoted them the price. They never looked at him, but sat frozen, their eyes glued to the photos of the mutilated body of the dead Detective Diaz.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Connor McCown eased into the booth and pulled the weapon from his pocket. He laid it on the seat next to him and ordered a beer before Cori sat. She nodded to the waiter. “Me too.” She pulled the Zombie Knife from its sheath and placed it on the table. She looked around the room. “This place is busy.”

  “It’s always like this. The food’s pretty good.”

  “You’re a little wound up, aren’t you?”

  “Shouldn’t I be?”

  “Yeah. I guess so.” Cori took a beer from the waiter and clicked the top half of the bottle against Connor’s. “To success.”

  Connor smiled and nodded. “To success.”

  Cori leaned over the table, her head forward as much as possible. “What do you think?”

  “So far, so good. Logistically, there’s still a hundred things that could go wrong. It bothers me about the girl who we don’t know or where she’s going to be coming from. And exactly when,” he added. “Number Eight bothers me. I’m not sure why the Professor recommended him, and I haven’t heard from the Professor in a while and that really bothers me. He’s gone dark and that’s not normal for him and frankly, unsettling. And then…,” Connor stopped as the people at the table next to them rose suddenly. He waited for them to pass by their booth. “And then there’s the whole golden flash thing. I mean, what the hell was that?” Connor took a long swallow of beer and smiled. “Besides that, I guess everything’s okay.”

  The waiter laid two menus on the tables and with a motion of her hand indicated she would be right back. “How quaint.” Cori picked up the menu, turned it over and looked in surprise at Connor. “I haven’t seen one of these in a while. Come to think of it, I haven’t even seen a waiter in as long as I remember.”

  “It’s part of the attraction of the place. It’s kind of retro.” Connor turned and pointed to the bar. “Look over there.”

  “What?”

  “Behind the bar.”

  “Is that a cash register?” Cori half stood as she peered at the machine. “They take cash or is it just for show?”

  “They actually take cash. People bring it here just for the experience, I hear.”

  “I haven’t seen cash since the virus of 20.” Cori sat back in the booth as she continued to stare at the register. “Yeah, the bartender just took some cash and rang someone up.” She looked back at Connor. “Who would carry cash around with the way things are in the street?”

  “I don’t know. I sure wouldn’t.”

  “At least no hologans.” Cori pointed to the ‘No Holos’ sign behind the bar. “Those guys drive me crazy.”

  “Hooligans in the streets and hologans in the bars.”

  “There’s a guy at the bar that keeps looking over here. Don’t look,” Cori ordered as Connor began to turn around. “Wait a minute.”

  “What’s he look like?”

  “Thin. A little tall. Kind’a dark complected.” Cori took Connor’s beer from the table and took a drink. “You can look now. He’s talking to a girl at the bar.”

  Connor turned in a casual, slow manner as if he were surveying the room. His gaze stopped on the dark, thin guy leaning on the bar talking to a blonde-headed girl. “Don’t know him.” He turned back to Cori.

  The waiter returned to their table and dragged a forearm across beads of moisture posited on his forehead. He held his order pad in front of him. “Sorry, it’s kind’a busy.” Two pages were pulled back as he prepared for his third order in a row.

  “You hungry?” Cori nodded. “The steaks here are great.”

  “Sure.”

  “Medium…?”

  “Rare.” Cori looked up at the waiter. “I want mine rare.”

  “Medium for me.” Connor held up two fingers. “And two Bud Lights?” He looked at Cori and she nodded.

  “I got it.” The waiter was already moving to the next table to get their order.

  “So, I have a question.”

  “Yes?” Connor smiled.

  “The cavern. What’s with that? How did the Professor come up with that? And how did it come to be that the entire leadership of the country is going to be in direct proximity of the entrances?”

  Connor hesitated as a young boy came to their table with two beers. The boy wiped a rag over the table and placed the beers on top of two beverage napkins. Connor waited until the boy had left. He looked around the room and then leaned forward and spoke in a quiet, even voice. “Around thirty years ago, the Professor was out hiking in the woods with his dog. The dog fell into a hole. The hole, as I understand, is the actual entrance that we’ve been using.” Cori started to say something but Connor held up a hand. “Just wait. Thirty years ago all of that property near the university was countryside. He purchased that lot and the adjoining lot, the one with all of the woods. It’s probably worth a lot of money now but he never would sell it. And it’s why it’s the only land that’s near the university that’s not developed.” Connor stopped, took a sip of beer and looked around the restaurant. “The Professor told me he couldn’t believe it when he saw it. You know he’s kind of a solitary guy and he treated it like his man cave, so to speak. He never told anyone about it. I don’t even think his wife knew.”

  “But he told you?”

  Connor nodded his head and a slight smile crossed his lips. “Yeah. I’m almost like a son to him and he, for sure, is a mentor to me. Anyway, over the years he put a lot of work into it. Wired it for electricity and Internet. He worked on all of the entrances, put some bathrooms in it.”

  “He did that all by himself?”

  “Yep.” Connor picked at the label on his beer bottle. “You know
the Professor is a talented guy. I think it was like a hobby of his.”

  “So you and him were the only ones that knew about it?”

  “I think so. At least that’s what he told me.”

  “When’s the first time you went down there?”

  “He showed it to me a couple of years ago. He’s getting up in years and I think he was afraid he might die and no one know about it.”

  Cori leaned back in her seat and stared out in thought. She looked back at Connor. “And the leadership coming right to it. How did that happen? And how did he know in advance? I hadn’t seen or heard anything about that until you told me.”

  Connor smiled, held out his arms with the palms facing up, and shrugged. “I really don’t know. But when he told me, I didn’t doubt it. He’s always been connected.” Connor leaned forward. “I have a question for you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Well, we used to go out.”

  “Yeah,” Cori narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

  “And I knew you were somewhat liberal but I never thought you’d be up for something like this. I was really surprised when the Professor mentioned your name.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Just that he highly recommended you. That you were tough, talented with a bow, could be trusted and that you were…” Connor hesitated.

  “Yes?”

  “Really motivated.”

  “And?”

  “So why are you,” Connor held his fingers up from both hands and made air quotes, “really motivated?”

  Cori shook her head and extended an arm, pointing toward the door. “Do you see what’s out there?” She didn’t wait for Connor to answer. “The air sucks. It’s hard to breathe sometimes not to mention you can hardly go outside during the day because of the heat. Then you have to walk with your head on a swivel because of the crime while you’re stepping over the homeless. There’s open warfare on both coasts. There’s the oligarchs and then there’s us. The Constitution has been shredded. But,” Cori leaned over the table, her nostrils flaring, and her eyes narrowed, “besides all that, I just hate that racist, misogynistic, motherfucker.”