Corridor Man 6: Exit Strategy

by Nick James

  Nick James

  Corridor Man 6:

  Exit strategy

  Before you go any further I’d like to offer you two FREE Dev Haskell tales.

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  Table of Contents

  Free offer

  Corridor Man 6: Exit Strategy

  Corridor Man: Howling (sample)

  List of books by Mike Faricy

  Published by Credit River Publishing 2017

  Copyright Mike Faricy 2017

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior and express permission of the copyright owner.

  All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Corridor Man 6: Exit Strategy is written by Mike Faricy under the pseudonym Nick James.

  ASIN# B06W55LWKZ

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank the following people for their help & support:

  Special thanks to Roxanne, Julie, Steve, Mittie, Toui and Roy for their hard work, cheerful patience and positive feedback. I would like to thank family and friends for their encouragement and unqualified support. Special thanks to Maggie, Jed, Schatz, Pat, Av, Emily and Pat, for not rolling their eyes, at least when I was there. Most of all, to my wife, Teresa, whose belief, support and inspiration has, from day one, never waned…did I mention patience?

  “Our greatest evils flow from ourselves.”

  Jean Jacques Rousseau

  Nick James

  Corridor Man 6:

  Exit Strategy

  Chapter One

  He thought he could hear voices, but couldn’t make out what was being said. It was clearly voices whispering back and forth.

  “I’ll shoot whoever comes through that door,” he called out. “Come and get it. Who wants to be first? And I just called the cops, so you got about thirty seconds to get your ass out of here or you’re going down.”

  Silence for a moment, then a voice called, “Bobby. You okay?”

  “Miguel?”

  “Yeah, you okay?”

  “It’s just me, everyone else is down.”

  “I’m coming in. Don’t shoot.”

  Bobby quickly dipped his hand in the pool of blood seeping from Reggie Montcreff, smeared the blood across his shirt, then some more on his chin. “I’m not going to shoot you. Just get me the hell out of this place.”

  Miguel poked his head around the corner a moment later and cautiously called, “Bobby?”

  He stood up from behind the desk. “Over here. Jesus Christ, am I glad to see you. How in the hell did you find me?”

  Miguel studied him for a long moment, taking note of the blood smeared on his face and shirt, then said, “Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m okay. How’d you find me?”

  “The prey app on your iPhone. It’s their anti-theft thing. We tracked you. We’ve been watching for days and something didn’t seem right when you left the office. We were almost over there when they put you in a vehicle. Once we picked up on that, I knew it was wrong and called in reinforcements. Hey, did you really call the cops?”

  “No. I just thought you were some more of the bad guys.”

  “I don’t think there are too many left. Jesus, who the hell was that?” Miguel asked, glancing over at Dalton’s mostly headless corpse.

  “That’s the guy I was telling you about. He was screaming at everyone as he left my office. It was his finger they sent me.”

  “Who are these three?”

  “That prick lying over there was the mastermind. Told me his name was Reggie, Reggie Montcreff. Montcreff’s kid, but he must have taken after his mother. Nowhere near the brains of the old man.”

  “We heard he was in California.”

  “Well, he’s back. This little prick is named Jerry, he drove that van out there. That big fucker is…”

  “Clint. Their enforcer, a real asshole.”

  “Yeah. I thought some guy named Hippo was Montcreff’s muscle. But, I guess I…”

  “Hippo, yeah, I remember him. I think he OD’d about a year ago. You knew him?”

  “Not really, met him once or twice. He drove me to meet Montcreff or was in the car as a bodyguard. But I didn’t know him.” Bobby thought back to Dubuque and Mobile, Hippo’s brothers. Bobby had helped Prez kill them, then Montcreff had Prez killed on Hippo’s behalf. It seemed like a million years ago, in a time before everything had become so damn complicated.

  Tommy was suddenly in the doorway and another guy behind him. They said something to Miguel and he responded in Spanish. They began to go through the pockets of the bodies, removing cellphones and wallets. They set about their work, avoiding Dalton’s body.

  When Tommy pulled Clint’s wallet out of his pocket, Bobby stepped over and said, “He took my cash on the way out here, should be at least sixty bucks in there that belongs to me.” Tommy handed the wallet over to him. Bobby removed the cash, a lot more than sixty dollars and gave the wallet back. “Hey, Tommy,” he said. “That guy in the chair, or what’s left of him. It was his finger they sent to me.” He didn't mention that Tommy was now wearing the ring that had been on the finger. Tommy gave a nonchalant nod in response, but didn’t say anything.

  Miguel said something in Spanish and one of the guys left the room. He returned a moment later with a large floor mat that he tossed onto the rug next to Jerry’s body. He and Tommy rolled the body onto the mat using their feet, then picked the mat up by the corners and carried it out of the room.

  “They can deal with this. Come on, let’s get you out of here. Leave the pistol. They’ll dispose of it,” Miguel said, then issued some orders in Spanish before he and Bobby went out the back door. The Mercedes was backed up no more than a half-inch away from the van, making it impossible for the van to leave.

  “What do you feel like?” Miguel asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You want to go home? If you’re thinking of going back to your office, you should go home and change first,” Miguel said, then gave a polite nod to Bobby's suit and shirt. Blood splatters were across the front of his suit and he pulled his suit coat to the side revealing a clear line where the coat had shielded the shirt from the blood. Small clumps of flesh and brain matter were stuck to his coat and trousers.

  “God, I didn’t even notice,” he said, but didn’t bother to attempt to brush anything off. “Better take me home.”

  “It’s been a rather crazy morning for you. You might be wise to remain at home this afternoon. Maybe just take it easy.”

  “I got a better idea. You mind running interference with Maria for me? Tell her I’m out of town
and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Not a problem. Same woman?”

  “Yeah. Maria shouldn’t have to deal with me tonight, not the way I’m thinking, anyway.”

  Miguel nodded, then opened the rear door for Bobby.

  Chapter Two

  Bobby phoned Emily while Miguel drove toward home. He had the phone up against his ear, listening to it ring, aware that Miguel kept looking at him in the rearview mirror. He glanced down at his suit coat, trousers, and shirt, studying the bits of flesh, bone, brain matter and blood splattered across him and suddenly realized he didn’t really care. He flicked a lump of something off his knee and watched it bounce off the back of the front seat and settle on the floor. He came back to reality, and disconnected the moment he was dumped into her voice mail. He took a deep breath and was about to say something to Miguel when his phone rang.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, sorry I missed your call. I was soaking in a bubble bath, wishing you were in there with me,” She laughed. I had to run into the bedroom to answer.”

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your busy day. Wish I could have joined you.”

  “Don’t worry about the interruption, it was anything but, I’ve been hoping you’d call. When can we get together?”

  “Bit of a change in my schedule. You free tonight?” he asked then looked down at his waist and flicked another large lump of something off his belt and onto the floor.

  “Tonight? I would love it. Perfect. I’ll prepare something special. You just show up.”

  “Can I bring some wine or…?”

  “No, nothing. And no wine, after my last episode and me sending an email I shouldn’t have sent, I’m off the wine for a while. I’ll have some here if you want any. You just bring yourself and rest up until then. I plan on taking full advantage of you.”

  “Sounds like just what the doctor ordered.”

  “I’ll see you around six or seven. Does that work for you?”

  “Works perfectly, you sure I can’t…?”

  “No, believe me, you’ve already got what I need. Like I said, you just rest up and leave the rest to me.”

  “That sounds like just what the doctor ordered, I’ll see you tonight,” he said, then disconnected.

  Miguel was smiling in the rearview mirror. “Another business meeting out of town,” he said and laughed.

  “Yeah, for medical reasons, stress relief,” Bobby said and Miguel nodded like this made perfect sense.

  When they were up in the apartment, Miguel more or less escorted Bobby back to his bedroom. He said something to Maria in Spanish as they passed the kitchen. Maria stood glued to the floor, eyes wide as Bobby passed. The blood he’d smeared across his chin and shirt had dried to a darker color and was crusted.

  He undressed in the bedroom, dropping his clothes in a heap on the floor. He was aware of Maria and Miguel’s voices coming from the kitchen although he couldn’t determine what was being said, or even if they were speaking English. He shaved, then stood in a steaming shower for a very long time. When he finished, and had dried off, he set the alarm on his phone for two hours then crawled into bed and immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.

  It felt as though he’d slept for only a brief moment when the alarm went off. The tone gradually growing louder until he reached over and turned it off. He lay in bed, and slowly came awake. The room, and in fact the entire apartment, was quiet. The only noise was that which he made himself. He did notice that the pile of bloodied clothes had been removed at some point, although he had no idea when. He gradually came awake enough to make his way into the bathroom, splash some water on his face, and begin to dress. He chose a casual shirt and trousers, slipped into some comfortable shoes, and walked out of the bedroom.

  Miguel and Maria were seated at the far end of the kitchen counter. Maria’s back was to the door. Miguel looked up and smiled. “Time to get you to the airport,” he said. The digital clock on the oven read half-past six.

  “I suppose we better get started,” Bobby replied.

  Maria stood and looked at Bobby, her eyes were teary and she tried, unsuccessfully, to blink the tears away. Then she wrapped her arms around him and whispered, “Be safe, my hero.”

  Bobby held her for a long moment until Miguel indicated the door to the elevator with a nod of his head.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow, see you then.”

  She smiled and gave a little wave as they walked out.

  “You were out cold,” Miguel said as he pushed the button in the elevator for the parking level.

  “What did you tell her?”

  “Only that you took out some very bad people, which is true. The less she knows, the better. I spoke with Luis.”

  “And?”

  “He was thrilled. He’ll be in touch tomorrow. I don’t know if you realize it, but you’ve given us a huge jump forward. Nice job, and all by yourself.”

  “I wanted to bring things to a conclusion. We were getting nowhere, and after the incident with Dalton in the office, I can’t be calling you every time there might be a problem.

  “Well, rest easy. Luis is pleased, very pleased. Like I said, he’ll be contacting you tomorrow.”

  “He knows where we’re going?” Bobby asked, a note of concern in his voice.

  “Tonight? No. I just told him you were resting.”

  “Thank you. Say, on our way, stop at that little flower store. I should bring something.”

  Twenty minutes later Miguel pulled in front of Emily’s. “Stay there,” Bobby said, as Miguel prepared to get out and hold the door for him. “I’ll see you at 8:30 tomorrow morning.” With that he grabbed his flowers, opened the door, hurried up the front steps to Emily’s, and rapped the brass knocker to signal his arrival.

  Chapter Three

  Bobby stood outside Emily’s front door and knocked again, this time a lot louder. He held a bouquet of flowers, wondered what was taking her so long, and felt like he’d been standing at the door for a good ten minutes instead of just forty-five seconds. Eventually he heard her footsteps in the hall and a moment later she called from behind the door. “Is that you, Bobby?”

  “Yes, it is. Let me in, will you?”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Emily, come on.”

  “Okay, just checking.”

  He heard her snapping the lock open and turned just as she opened the door. He waved at Miguel in the hope of sending him on his way, but the Mercedes didn’t move. Miguel just sat there and seemed to stare for a very long moment.

  He turned back around and did a quick double take while Emily stood there in the doorway smiling, naked except for the double string of pearls around her neck.

  “Flowers for the lady,” Bobby said then just stared while she stood there smiling.

  “Right now, I need something a lot more than flowers,” she said taking the bouquet from him. She grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him inside, then closed the door. She set the bouquet of flowers on a marble-topped table, then dropped to her knees and began to unbutton his belt. “Mmm-mmm, I’ve waited all afternoon for you to get here.”

  “You want to go upstairs?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to take the time. I’ve been dreaming about this since before you called.” She aggressively pushed him back against the wall, unbuckled his belt and then unzipped his trousers.

  “Let’s just go upstairs and we….”

  “I’m doing what I want to do,” she said.

  They’d had sex on the floor of her entryway for the better part of an hour. Emily orgasmed a number of times, and she hadn’t seemed to be faking it. Bobby, on the other hand, had not. Finally, she’d looked over her shoulder at him and gasped, “God, I need to take a break. Just give me a little time to catch my breath and recover.”

  “Later tonight,” he said.

  “God, if I’m still alive. Wow,” she’d half groaned as she got to her feet. “I mean that was absolutely amazing, I don’t know wha
t got into you, but Jesus if you bottle that you could make a million. I’m going to run to the bathroom. See you in the kitchen?”

  “I’ll be there waiting,” he said, then picked the flowers up off the marble topped table and headed toward the kitchen.

  “Hey Super Man, way to go, I can barely walk,” she called after him and then laughed.

  * * *

  “More wine?” she asked as they finished dinner. She didn’t wait for a response and filled his glass.

  “Thanks.” He had to give her credit, she was drinking a water and remained as sober as a judge. Her face was still slightly flushed after their sexual interlude in the hall. She was wearing a short, black silk robe and occasionally she would take his hand and thrust it inside the robe, rubbing it over her body. Something had changed, he could feel it, but he couldn’t tell if it was his experience from earlier in the day or just a coincidence. But something had changed, as much as he’d enjoyed her welcome he still felt stressed. Incredibly stressed and he chalked it up to the the morning experience.

  Now, almost finished with their dinner, she studied him. “You seem awfully quiet,” she said pulling his hand out from her robe and kissing it. She let her robe fall open and wrapped both her hands around his, looking genuinely concerned. “Is everything okay?”

  “With me? Yeah. Maybe just a tough day at the office. I think I just need to relax.”

  “Are you upset because you didn’t…”

  “No, that’s not it. Don’t worry about it, just a lot on my mind. You were nothing short of magnificent.”

  “I really tried, honest. God, maybe I’m losing my touch,” she laughed. “I certainly enjoyed myself, a number of times, believe me. I, I just couldn’t keep up.”