Marshmallow S'More Murder

by Leslie Langtry

  I went back to work on my assignment, but it was going nowhere. Japanese officials were difficult to turn. Honor was a big deal here. My time in Tokyo was nearing an end anyway. They were going to ship me to Okinawa for a few days to follow a lead there.

  The night before I was to leave, I was having dinner in my favorite restaurant downtown. I had this great booth way in the back, facing the door. The backs of the seats were high, so I could duck down and hide if I needed to. But more importantly, they had the best Kobe steaks on the island. I loved a good, juicy steak and was feeling a little homesick for Iowa, so I thought I'd have one more before leaving.

  I was just polishing off some sake when I saw Midori Ito walk in with a huge entourage. Ducking down in my seat, I crawled under the table and sat in the seat with my back to them. I waited a few moments before chancing a glance. Great, they were sitting just one table over. I'd be here a while. As a gaijin, I'd stand out like a sore thumb if I tried to leave now.

  "…took care of the German bitch…" Midori said. I didn't catch all of it.

  My radar went into overdrive. Were they talking about Chlotilde? I shifted a little lower into the booth and strained to listen without looking like I was listening. Not an easy thing to do.

  "Interpol trying to involve themselves in our business." One of the men at the table snorted. "Tried to get the CIA to do their work for them."

  Were they talking about Chlotilde trying to get me to work for her? How could they know about that? Did that mean they knew about me? I wasn't even involved in investigating the yakuza. At that moment, I was very happy I hadn't taken the German Interpol agent up on it.

  "…not even German…American…" Midori snapped.

  What? Chlotilde wasn't even German? Damn. She had the accent down. I was impressed and horrified for her at the same time. Could she have been one of ours? It was always possible that I wouldn't know her. My handler, Riley, owed me no explanation. He didn't have to make any of his field agents aware of the others who worked for him.

  "…CIA a problem?" someone asked.

  "Not anymore," Midori said with a laugh. "You took care of the Limey…keep an eye on Americans…anyway…"

  I guess they killed the British mole too. And they were going to watch us for a little while. Maybe I should tell Riley about this.

  After that, they lapsed into a discussion of the drug trade. I stopped listening. Not my assignment. Curiosity about cases they weren't involved in got many spies killed over the years. I wasn't going to be one of them.

  I had a bigger problem in that I was basically trapped. If they knew Chlotilde had tried to recruit CIA agents, then they probably knew about me. Why did I have to call that number? Now I was screwed by appearing to be involved in something I wasn't involved in. I shouldn't have been surprised. This stuff happened all the time. Of course people were killed for this reason.

  The only way out of the restaurant was on the other side of Midori's table. I had to stay. They were there for four hours. By the time I made it out of there, it was very late.

  Riley met me back at my apartment. He was pacing in the sparse living room, clearly agitated. I told him what I'd overheard in case it was involved with something else he was pursuing. When I mentioned the assassination of Chlotilde, he turned deathly white. It was unnerving. I'd never seen Riley upset before. Not even when I'd dumped him.

  But this was beyond my pay grade, so I didn't pursue it. If he'd lost an agent, he'd need some time to deal with it. Instead I packed my duffel and the next morning, flew to Okinawa. We never spoke of it again.

  I was right. My head felt like it was being hit over and over with a sledgehammer. Imagine having being hit so hard you saw stars. It was like that, only my brain was pulsing instead of getting punched.

  There was no point in giving away that I was coming to, so I kept my eyes closed and tried to remain still. The silence was broken by the booming pain in my head. I couldn't identify any movement or voices. My hands were bound in front of me and so were my feet. Pain washed over my extremities as I very gently tried to flex them. My arms and legs responded by screaming at my brain for daring to attempt such a thing. I ignored it, and my fingers gently probed my front pocket. Yes! The bobby pin was still there! I had one advantage my captors didn't know about.

  Very slowly, I opened my eyes to slits. When nothing happened, I opened them all the way. Bright white light flooded into my swimming vision and also complained to my brain about instigating pain.

  The first thing I saw was my wrists. Damn. Not handcuffs. Zip ties. Well, that screwed the idea of picking the lock. I knew how to get out of zip ties, but it took a lot of movement and strength to pull it off. Right now my body hated me, so I was pretty sure I wasn't going to get much of that.

  Zip ties were excellent restraints for normal, everyday people. There was a psychological terror associated with them because you immediately assume you won't be able to undo them. That wasn't true, but most people didn't know that and usually gave up just at the sight of the thick, plastic straps.

  Right now, my mind was begging me to stop thinking. It assumed I was torturing it with pain just for fun. I took deep gulps of air. An influx of oxygen could help diminish headaches, although in this case it just made me feel like vomiting. To distract me from that, I turned my attention to my environment. I was in a plain, cement room. No windows, one steel door, and no video cameras. It was a pretty good lockup. I appeared to be all alone in the room with no one watching, which was fine with me.

  Very slowly, I tested my strength only to find out my arms and legs had decided suddenly to take on a rubbery quality. I brought my wrists to my mouth and was rewarded with searing waves of pain. Working through the pain without puking was a challenge, but I forced the ties to my mouth and worked the little plastic buckle to the front, right between my wrists.

  I slumped against the bare wall and closed my eyes, exhausted from the effort. This would all have to be done in bits and pieces until I recovered. What in the hell had they dosed me with? Whatever it was, they obviously used too much. If I got out of here, I would use it on them.

  I listened carefully, my head throbbing against the cool, cement wall. There were vague murmurs on the other side of the wall, but there was no way I could make them out. How long had I been out? I wiggled a little in an attempt to see if my phone was in my back pocket. It was. What terrible spy-craft! Leaving me with a phone? But then they probably thought with my hands bound in front of me, I'd never be able to use it.

  What were my options? I'd need to stand to break my wrist restraints, which would be difficult to do considering my ankles were bound as well. That and my body had made it pretty clear it wasn't going to be cooperating anytime soon.

  So, I was all alone with just my thoughts for company. The vague remnants of a dream swirled around my brain, and I reached for it. I'd had several dreams since Riley had called and asked for help. All relating to that time in Tokyo. Until now, I'd assumed it was because Riley and Midori were kind of foremost in my mind.

  But maybe it was more than that. Maybe my memory was trying to tell me something. But what? It didn't make any sense. The closest I'd ever gotten to Midori was that one time in that restaurant. And why did Baby Ito think I'd had anything to do with her mother's murder?

  Okay, I did…a bit. Ito Senior turning up dead in my kitchen kind of connected me. But the murder part happened before she got there. Kelly knew that.

  Kelly! Rex said she'd been in labor! She must've had her baby by now! And I had no idea if it was a girl or boy! This sucked now for one more reason. I had to get out of here. No way I was going to die before congratulating my best friend.

  Sitting straight up, I brought my ankles close to me. The pain was excruciating, and every nerve ending shrieked. Very slowly, I pressed against the wall and tried to stand up. My legs burned in protest, but I ignored it, concentrating all of my efforts on getting my body to do what I wanted it to.

  I inched up the
wall about a foot before I crashed back down to the floor. Sweat streamed down my forehead in spite of the cool temperature of the room. This wasn't going to be easy. Once again, I brought my knees to my chest and started the climb. About halfway up my knees started buckling, but I pushed on. All of my attention was focused on getting upright. Then I could go on to the next step.

  Wobbling, with only the wall for support, I finally stood all the way up. I allowed myself a few moments of leaning against the wall to regroup but only a few. Ito and her thugs could come through that door at any moment. Time was not a luxury I had.

  I pressed my elbows together and brought my arms up over my head then slashed downward, separating my arms at my hips, breaking the lock and popping the zip ties off. Ignoring the pain in my wrists, I undid the bindings on my ankles. I was finally free.

  I examined the door. No hinges or locks were visible on my side. There was a doorknob, and I very carefully tested it. It turned, and I was able to open it. Who did that? Who kidnapped someone and then left them in an unlocked room? Not that I was going to argue with them. Their stupidity would make my escape possible, so yay me!

  The hallway was brightly lit and seemed to go on forever in both directions. I pulled my cell from my pocket. No service. I might've been underground. No access to Wi-Fi either. Ito must've figured I wouldn't be able to use it, so she ignored it. That was stupid. What was going on? Why were they making so many mistakes?

  I froze for a moment. This could've been an elaborate trap. If they thought they wouldn't get any information out of me, if I developed a false sense of security, maybe I'd spill. Now you could see why paranoia is a good thing in a spy.

  At this point, it didn't matter. I was going to have to get moving. Staying here wouldn't do me any good. But which way should I go? Right. I'll go right. If I don't find anything soon, I'll double back and go left.

  This was the kind of mind game I was used to. In my experience, it was best just to push through and take your chances. I broke into a light jog down the right hall. As I moved my muscles loosened up, and the pain started to drift away. It was extremely quiet. I'd heard voices earlier, back in my cell. And while that could be either good or bad, I decided to run away from them. Rescuers usually shouted instead of carrying on conversations in a normal volume.

  The hallway ended in a T intersection, and I had another decision to make. Which way this time? Wasting time thinking about stuff like this could get me killed, so I decided once again to go right. At least then it would be easier to backtrack if I needed.

  Funny…I hadn't passed a single door in all this time. What kind of place was this? It kind of felt like an underground bunker. But a bunker with only one door? My mind raced as I picked up speed. If I didn't find anything soon, I'd have to retrace my steps.

  Was Riley being held here? It would make sense if he was. This place seemed pretty vast though. I wasn't sure I could find him. In fact, I wasn't sure he should be my mission here. Getting out alive would be nice. And if I did get out, maybe I could return with help.

  I stopped running. It was a dead end. The hallway just ended. There was nowhere else to go. Now I felt a little like a rat in a maze. Like I was part of an experiment to get me to find the cheese. Only in this case, the cheese was Riley.

  Turning around, I started running faster. When I got to the T, instead of turning left to go back to where my cell was, I decided to clear this hall first. I didn't panic much—it was a huge waste of time and caused you to make mistakes. Stupid mistakes. When I was fresh out of the academy and on my first assignment, I got trapped underwater in a cave. I freaked out and was promptly attacked by bats. And while I wasn't really afraid of bats, their swarming me only made things worse, not better. Since then, I'd always tried to keep my fears under control.

  Besides, Maria probably had the CIA looking for me, and my dad probably was doing something similar with whatever resources he had. I wondered if Rex was on his way. Who would he have looking after Philby and the kittens? Hopefully someone nice who I wouldn't have to kill later.

  Another dead end. Okay, I thought as I turned around, that narrowed things down a bit. I raced back to where I'd been held and this time took the hallway to the left. Good thing I had comfortable shoes on. I couldn't imagine running around in high heels.

  Have you ever noticed how often that happens in movies? The heroine runs around forever in stiletto heels without complaining once. I'd complain. There was no reason to do that. One time, when I was at a formal party at an embassy, I just took off my high heels to search the building, putting them on when I had what I needed. And yet, moviegoers are subjected to the belief women are comfortable running long distances in four-inch high heels. What is the point?

  Wow. The hallway was going on forever. Seriously, where was I? This building had to take up at least two city blocks underground. Even for Washington DC that seemed a bit excessive. Just walking around would take forever. Oooh! Maybe they had Segways! I'd always wanted to try one of those.

  The hallway banked sharply to the right, and I kept going. The throbbing in my head was receding, probably due to the influx of oxygen in my lungs. The muscles in my legs had finally stopped whining, but I started to slow down a bit. No point in running out of breath. What if I had a fight coming up? It would be better to save my strength.

  A door was coming up on my right, and I slowed to a stop in front of it. It looked similar to the steel door of my cell, meaning it probably housed another prisoner. Pressing my ear to the steel, I listened for any noise that would indicate more than one person inside. When I heard nothing, I reached for the doorknob and turned.

  Unlocked! Unbelievable! Okay, so I should've been grateful my captors weren't bright, but I was really starting to question their ability to be dangerous. The room was very dimly lit. I stepped in, taking off my shoe to prop the door open in case it tried to lock behind me. The room was the same one I'd been in. Except that in the corner there was a huge lump of rags.

  The rags moved—something they didn't usually do. I froze. Then they groaned. These weren't rags. It was a living thing. I kept my distance and got into a defensive position. It could've been a person. But it could also have been a tiger. You shouldn't laugh. That happened to me once in India. Fortunately for me, it had been chained up, and I realized it was a killing machine just before I stepped into range. You couldn't take anything for granted in this business.

  "Who are you?" I said in my sternest, most intimidating voice.

  "Wrath?" a man's voice croaked weakly.

  I ran to the lump of rags and carefully turned it over. In spite of the blood and bruises on his face, I knew who it was. I'd found Riley.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I scanned the room as I helped him sit up. No cameras. That was good.

  "Yes, Riley, it's me!" I said quietly. "It's Merry."

  Riley opened two swollen eyes and studied me for a moment. He didn't look like he was happy to see me. In fact, he looked alarmed. He must be in shock, I thought.

  "Oh no!" His eyes were wide open now, and he grabbed my arms. "What are you doing in this place? You shouldn't be here!"

  "What are you talking about?" I asked calmly as I checked him for traps. "You called and asked me to help you. Don't you remember?"

  He froze, his eyes going up and to the right, indicating he was thinking. I removed the torn blanket I'd found him in. Underneath, he was wearing khakis and a black golf shirt—both of which had seen better days.

  Riley shook his head. "I never called you. I didn't want them to know you were involved!"

  My mind reeled back to the phone calls. If what he said was true, then I'd spent this whole time in DC walking into one huge booby trap. The confidence I'd felt up until this moment deflated.

  "They must've used recordings or something." Riley was more alert now. "I would never have called you. Never!"

  So that's what happened. Ito wanted to know if anyone else was involved in her mother's murder. Someh
ow she'd tricked him into saying my name and Maria's, recording them, and sending them to me to see if I'd take the bait. And like a big moron with half a brain—I had.

  I started to pull him to his feet. "We'd better get out of here."

  My mind was racing. It was possible they'd been watching me all along. They wanted me to find Riley and somehow admit that I'd been involved in Midori's death. As I helped him up, I noticed his left wrist. He was wearing a device I'd never seen before. It looked like a video watch.

  Those bastards were watching and listening. That also meant they were probably on their way right now.

  "Can you move?" I asked as he finally got to his feet.

  Riley ran his fingers through his hair and noticed the thing on his wrist. Suddenly, he started clawing at it like a madman. I slapped his other hand away and took a closer look. It appeared to have a locking latch mechanism that held it in place.

  I pulled the bobby pin from my pocket and began working the lock. If we were going to run, I saw no reason to take them with us. It felt like a giant stopwatch was clicking beside me as I struggled to unlock the mechanism. Riley could barely hold still. He was trembling violently. That wasn't good. Finally, the lock sprang, and we dropped the band to the floor where I immediately stomped it to pieces.

  "Let's go!" I said, yanking his arm toward the door.

  Riley and I made it out the door and turned left to run down the hallway. He kept up pretty well for a man who'd been nearly beaten to death. I didn't let go of his arm, dragging him with me as I ran.

  The hallway ended in a door, which I flung open and ran through. We were in some sort of stairwell. I pushed Riley in front of me and told him to go. If he was weak, at least I could catch him from behind. We took the stairs two at a time. Riley seemed to get stronger with every step.

  We ran up two flights before we saw another door. There was no sign, no markings to tell us if this was the ground floor. I didn't want to come out on another underground level, but I didn't want to overshoot the first floor either. That was our best option of finding our way outside and escaping.