by Beth Klein
With his vision obscured, he strained to hear any sound that might indicate the passing of his stalker, but there was nothing. Nothing at all, except for the harsh grating of his breath and the pounding of blood in his ears. Slowly he counted to one hundred and listened again—nothing. He counted to two hundred and listened—nothing. Maybe he had been mistaken, maybe there had been no one there at all and it had merely been his over-active imagination? No, he was sure of it, there had definitely been someone else walking behind him along Mulberry Avenue.
“Okay,” he said to himself trying to reason with his subconscious. ‘If there WAS someone, where are they now?”
“Just suppose there was someone else walking the same route as you. Why couldn’t they simply have been making their way home in the same way that you were? Isn’t it a huge leap to go from quiet footsteps, to persistent assassin? Get a grip Goulding. Get out from behind these boxes, man-up and get yourself back to the hotel.”
It was hard to argue with such logic, especially when it came from the person he most trusted! Slowly he reversed the sideways shuffle that he had used to hide himself and re-emerged into the dark alley. He looked left and then right, listened for any sound of movement and only after he was completely satisfied did he begin the short journey back to the mouth of the alley and Mulberry Avenue. It was only then that the darkest of the shadows uncurled itself, snaked an arm around Goulding’s shoulders and clamped his mouth shut with an enormous gloved hand. Despite the savage strength of his attacker, Goulding struggled to break the grip and was already planning how best to drop this asshole. Then he went very still, the knife being pressed to his throat changed everything.
* * *
“Goulding.....Bill Goulding?”
Goulding said nothing, but his body was stiff with tension. His only thought was, “Shit they’ve decided to make good their threats. They’ve found me.”
“Bill, it is you isn’t it?”
In the far recesses of his mind Bill realized that he knew the voice and that it was someone from much further back in his past. As the hand on his mouth was removed, he addressed his attacker.
“Jake?”
“Bill! I knew it! I’d know that profile anywhere.”
Goulding felt the arm around him slacken and he turned to face the man at his back. Although it had been nearly ten years and the alley was dark, he knew who it was that he was facing immediately.
“Jake! You fucking son of a bitch, I nearly shit myself.”
Jake Armstrong grinned at Goulding’s obvious displeasure and then roared with laughter.
“You’ve been out of the army too long Bill. You’ve gotten soft and slow.”
Jake was enormous and as angry as he was, Goulding had to admit, he was impressed that the man could still move so silently. They had first met just before Goulding went to Afghanistan for his first tour and he had liked him almost immediately. Jake had been a member of the Special Forces, specializing in counter intelligence and espionage. Although their individual responsibilities meant that they moved in very different circles, they had remained firm friends ever since.
After the accident, contact had been fleeting and as close as they were, circumstances had meant that they had drifted apart and Goulding hadn’t seen Jake since an alcohol fuelled argument nearly ten years ago. It was something that Goulding deeply regretted and he had tried to phone Jake to apologize the next day when he had sobered up, only to find out that he had shipped out on another tour.
In line with army protocol, it had all been very hush-hush. No one could or would tell him anything else. As time went by and his life moved in a very different direction, Goulding’s intention to rectify the wrong had become less and less pressing. Eventually he had stopped trying to track Jake down completely, but he never forgot the night in question and the unforgivable things that he had said to him.
The passing of a decade had done little to age the hulking giant that stood before him. He was as intimidating as ever. He stood a shade over six foot four inches tall, with shoulders so wide that he had to turn sideways to get through the door. His barrel like chest was crisscrossed with muscles toned through hours of exercise and discipline. Each of his arms was as thick as one of Goulding’s legs. His flat, narrow waist had thickened slightly, but his tree trunk like legs and size fifteen army boots remained unchanged leaving Goulding with little doubt that Jake still cut a truly impressive specimen.
As awe-inspiring as his physique was, it was Jake’s face that lived forever in the memory. A twenty inch neck supported his square-chinned features and a rugged masculinity that belied an intelligence that lay behind the facade. He had taken the military requirement for a short, clean haircut to its ultimate extreme and wet-shaved his head and chin so that they shone, smooth and un-sullied. His blue-grey eyes could be full of mirth or cold with ruthless efficiency, but they never hid the constant calculations of a man born into his trade.
He also sported an ugly scar that ran from just below his left eye, across the bridge of his nose and ended at the corner of his mouth. It had been a gift from an Iraqi soldier that had surprised him in a knife fight and he had come perilously close to losing his eye. Despite the horrific nature of his injury he had used it as a reminder of what happens if you let your guard down, even for a second. His sanguine attitude had been the inspiration for many of the men that fought at his side.
As Goulding looked him over, he noticed that he was in civilian fatigues and not the usual army attire that he favored.
“Jake...I”. Bill was unsure of how to start. “When you last saw me, I wasn’t...wasn’t at my best. I wasn’t myself. I didn’t mean what I said...”he trailed off.
“Bill, that’s all in the past, ancient history. I know you were in a bad place and I never held it against you.”
“All the same Jake, I’m sorry.” Bill sincerely spoke the words that he’d waited a decade to say.
Jake swallowed hard and nodded, “Appreciate that Bill.”
Both men looked around awkwardly, uncomfortable in the face of such unfamiliar emotion, then Goulding punched Jake savagely on the arm.
“What the fuck are you doing man? I could have killed you.”
“Please,” Jake grinned again. “You’d have been dead long before I had a chance to break sweat.”
Goulding grumbled something that Jake couldn’t hear, but eventually looked up again.
“Seriously man, why were you stalking me?”
“I started out with the intention of finding you, making sure you were safe and then giving you a message. Then, I…uh”, he shrugged, “just thought I’d have a little fun!”
“Fun. Fun!” Bill said the word slowly and repeated it with a hint of outrage. “And they say I’m an asshole!”
Both men laughed. It hadn’t taken long to slip into the usual banter that they had enjoyed for so many years and they both realized that they had missed the interactions more than they cared to admit.
“What was the message Jake?” Asked Goulding. “And more importantly: why are you in civvies?”
Jake suddenly looked sad and rubbed his scar distractedly.
“Fucking cutbacks. You give your life for your country, dedicate yourself to whatever it asks of you and then some little prick in Washington who’s never got as much as a sniff of some real action decides that the figures don’t stack up and ‘numbers need to be trimmed’.”
“Oh man, that’s shit. I’m really sorry.”
Jake shrugged his massive shoulders and did his best to swallow the melancholy.
“S’alright Bill. Something will come up.”
“Nothing in the pipeline?” asked Goulding.
“No mate, not really. Seems that when your CV consists of one hundred and one ways to kill an enemy soldier, they’re not exactly skills that are transferable to an office environment!”His smile was genuine enough, but it was obvious that he couldn’t hide his disappointment.
Another silence pierced the air and
Goulding was wondering how best to steer the conversation in a less painful direction, when Jake suddenly started.
“Shit man, I almost forgot why I tracked you down in the first place. You’ve got some heat and I’m not sure if you know about it.”
“Heat?” asked Goulding, not entirely sure how Jake could have learnt about the men from his past. “What exactly do you know?”
“Ever since this election thing really picked up, I’ve been keeping an eye out for you. Partly because we go way back, but if I’m honest, since I was released I’ve not exactly had a lot to do.” Jake smiled, cleared his throat and continued. “About a week ago I started seeing this fella sniffing around you. He was asking questions, trying to dig up some dirt and generally acting pretty suspicious. I’m surprised your security detail didn’t pick him up themselves.”
“Ah yes...security.”
“You do have a security detail don’t you Bill? For fucks sake man, you’re about to be elected the God-damn President, you’ve gotta have security. I thought tonight was a one-off, but if I had been a real crazy you’d be splashed all over this alley by now.”
As graphic as they were, the sense in Jake’s words and his ‘demonstration’ had worried Goulding and he couldn’t help but nod in agreement with the big man.
“I’ll sort it Jake,” he said.
“Make sure you do...I mean it.”
Jake’s eyes blazed with intense concern and Bill could no longer look at him.
“I will, I promise.”
No one said anything for a second and then Jake continued.
“Anyway, I trailed this fella for a few days and then we had a quiet...er...’discussion’.”
“Discussion?” Goulding smiled wryly.
“Er...yeah. I talked, he listened. I threatened, he answered. That kind of discussion.”
“I see...,” Bill rubbed his neck tiredly. “Should I be expecting a letter from his solicitor?”
“Shit no, we were cool when we parted.” Jake waved away his friends concern. “Anyway do you wanna hear this or not?”
“Sorry.”
“He was a journo looking for dirt on you so that he could make a bit of cash selling a story that I’m sure wouldn’t have cast you in the best of lights.”
“A journalist? What could he write about that they haven’t already written?”
“Not sure mate, but it wasn’t the usual shit they’ve been peddling. No matter how heated our ‘discussion’ got, he wouldn’t be warned off and kept insisting that he knew something about you that was worth some real money to the right buyer. Mentioned something about a company called Quest Realtors. Not sure if that means anything to you?”
As Jake mentioned the name, all of the blood drained from Goulding’s face and he felt a chill run down his spine that had absolutely nothing to do with the elements. Seeing Jake’s concern he managed to reconstruct the mask that served him so well when he did his meet and greet shit with the general public.
“Just some people I knew a long time ago Jake. Nothing to worry about.”
“Okay Bill, but you don’t look so hot, you sure you’re okay?”
Goulding wasn’t okay, he was far from being okay, but this was neither the time, nor the place to go into this. Deciding that he would need to think about this carefully when he was on his own, he decided to change the subject.
“Really Jake, it’s nothing. Anyway, I’m more concerned that a buddy of mine is struggling to find a life outside of the army.”
“It’s not too bad Bill,” lied Jake unconvincingly. “Something’s bound to come up. Hopefully sooner rather than later. I don’t need to burden you with my shit.”
“Jake, you’re my oldest friend and you’ve just done me a huge favor. You’ve also highlighted a glaring deficiency in my current security arrangements and I want to rectify that right now. How would you feel about coming and working for me?”
“I’m not looking for charity Bill,” said Jake, suddenly defensive.
“It isn’t charity Jake. You were an excellent soldier, maybe the best I ever saw and you’ve already proven how vulnerable I am. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have at my side, watching my back and managing all of my security arrangements. I want you to be my head of security. What do you say?”
Jake still looked unsure.
“I don’t know Bill...” he said and stared at his feet.
“Look Jake, this is a real job, with real prospects and a real salary. You can handpick the rest of your team and have complete freedom. I’ll start you off on a salary of $100K. If all goes well, I’ll even bring you to the White House with me. Sound good?”
For a moment, Goulding thought that Jake was going to refuse his offer, but when he finally looked up the dazzling grin had returned.
“You had better have some decent coffee Bill. I get the feeling that this gig is going to have me working fucking hard for every dollar of that hundred grand!”
The two men shook hands and parted on the understanding that Jake would be at the office at eight the following morning. Goulding knew that he would never be able to sleep until he had run through the situation with Quest Realtors in his head and doubted that he would be able to do that in the sumptuous opulence of his hotel suite. It was a place he went to sleep and watch a bit of television—it wasn’t a place he went to think. For that, he needed to be in the place that he felt most at ease, he needed his office.
* * *
John Lyndsey had been genuinely upset at his boss’s comments. Although he knew that he could be easily placated by Goulding’s charm and sincere apologies. He wanted to take a little time so that they could both get some perspective on the situation. It was preposterous arguing about such a ridiculous point. Everyone knew that Elvis couldn’t hold a candle to Lennon. He hadn’t even written his own songs for fucks sake!
He had sulkily fallen back on familiar comforts and spent a couple of hours in a local bar, drowning his bitterness in the anonymity of the afternoon drinker. As he set his empty glass on the bar for the fifth time, he realized that the alcohol had settled his mood, but that it had also fuelled a much more primal urge. He wasn’t exactly the kind of man that attracted a great deal of female company, but he was a man nonetheless and he still had the same urges and desires as anyone else. His strict Christian upbringing hadn’t helped, nor did the fact that he still lived at home with his parents and it had been nearly nine months since he had last been with a woman.
John looked around the bar and even though he was empowered by the alcohol, he still knew his limitations. The bar maid was young and pretty, not exactly factors that worked in his favor and he quickly dismissed her as a realistic option. Strike one. That left just two women in the bar and both were as untenable as the barmaid. The first was draped over the arm of a large man that sported a jacket in the colors of the local college football team. Young, pretty and attached—even worse than the barmaid! Strike two. The second was sat alone at the bar and at first he thought she might be perfect, but on closer inspection he saw that she was somewhere between fifty and sixty years old, or that years of alcohol abuse had made her appear so. She was also drunk. No drunk didn’t quite sum it up, she was completely shit-faced and seemed to be summoning up supreme levels of resolve to merely prevent herself from toppling sideways off the stool. Strike three and you’re out!. 0-3, not exactly a great showing, but then again it was pretty much par for the course.
Well, he was damned if he was going to go home unhappy and unsatisfied again. That left only one option. He reached into his wallet and tentatively withdrew the battered business card. It was faded, but he had long ago memorized the number so it was more out of familiarity that he had even bothered to keep it. The card revealed very little information and simply read:
Cristal
(501) 852-8442
He was in luck, Cristal was in and more importantly, she had been free. Obviously he couldn’t meet her at home, although the look on his parents face would ha
ve been priceless. That only left one place where he could find an element of privacy—the office. After first checking that all of the lights were off, he had arranged to meet her there at seven o’clock. Goulding often worked late, and although John couldn’t see Goulding’s office from his vantage point in the street, he seldom worked at night without having all of the lights on and John felt confident that they would have the place to themselves.
Practically running in his excitement, John crossed the street, unlocked the door, silenced the alarm and took the stairs two at a time. He was standing in the office barely two minutes after he had left the bar. He had just enough time to apply deodorant and cologne that he ‘borrowed’ from Goulding’s desk and in lieu of toothpaste, thrust a handful of mints into his mouth before the buzzer sounded to indicate a visitor at the door.
“Hi honey, it’s Cristal,” purred the disembodied voice. “Can you buzz me in?”
“I’ll do more than that,” he thought to himself and crunching wildly at the mints, pressed the door release button.
Subtlety wasn’t exactly Cristal’s strong point, but then again, she worked in a profession that wasn’t really renowned for its subtle approach. As she slinked through the door, John’s pulse quickened and he felt his erection began to press against his pants. She was wearing a tiny pink vest top that exposed a delicious section of her midriff and the diamond piercing that nestled at her navel. Her push-up bra accentuated already impressive breasts and he longed to lick the sensuous valley that it created almost as much as he would have loved to thrust his manhood into it, while she caught each thrust with a warm, wet and willing mouth.
