A Deadly Distance

by L. T. Ryan

  She told me she was born and raised in D.C. Went to college at Georgetown, decided to join the fire department instead of going to medical school. She'd been married once, but it didn't even last a year. Apparently the guy couldn't handle the thought of his wife rushing into a burning building.

  I told her a few select things about my past, like how I turned down a football scholarship and joined the Marines. Dumbed down the eight years spent there, but let her know that it led me to where I am now. Told her I'd never been married. Lied and said I'd never been engaged. She didn't need to know.

  After fifteen minutes I began to feel the effects of the alcohol. My head buzzed slightly. She was already done with her second beer and began smiling a bit more.

  I said something that made her laugh. Strands of hair fell across her face. She reached up and tucked them behind her ear, then said, "So how emotionally unavailable are you?"

  "On a scale of one to ten, I'm an eleven. Or a zero, depending on which way your scale slides."

  "I like that in a man."

  "I like a woman who likes that in a man."

  She smiled and leaned in a couple inches. "Want to get out of here? Split a cab somewhere?"

  "Where?"

  She shrugged. "Whoever's house is closest?"

  I nodded then looked around to get my bearings and located the coat check. I felt her fingers slide in between mine. Her palm, cool from holding a beer mug, melted into my hand.

  "Jack." It was the right name, wrong voice.

  I felt deflated. Frank headed toward me, another man close behind. The guy following was older than me, probably mid-forties, maybe early fifties. Hard to tell. His hair was blond, perhaps hiding traces of gray. He was wide in the shoulders and narrow in the hips. Looked like an athlete in a custom tailored gray suit. He had a winning smile and everything about him screamed politician.

  "Man of the hour," Sarah said from behind me.

  I turned and caught her eye. "I'm sorry. As soon as this is over."

  "It's OK. I'll have a few more drinks. You won't mind, will you?"

  I smiled, tossed back another shot and hopped off my barstool. Walked a few feet away from the bar and waited for Frank and his friend.

  "Jack, this is Senator Burnett. He's, uh, he's a friend of ours."

  The Senator smiled his politician's smile and held out his hand. His grip was firm and comforting. "I watch from a distance." His smile broadened and he winked. "And you always provide one hell of a show, Jack."

  I had been prepared to hate the man. After all, he was holding me back from beginning a night with Sarah. But there was something about his smile and his grip and his voice that made me feel at ease with him. I presumed that most people felt that way about him. I assumed that's why he was a successful politician. Half shark, half used car salesman, all bullshit.

  "Let's have a drink." Senator Burnett draped his right arm across my shoulders, his left across Frank's. He guided us toward the bar. I did nothing to stop him. I found myself liking the guy. At the very least, I saw why people voted for him.

  I sat down next to Sarah. Leaned over and whispered, "You sure you don't mind staying a bit longer?"

  "I've got nowhere to go and we can always find a taxi willing take us there," she said. "Plus, I'm off tomorrow. If you're too drunk tonight, we've got the morning."

  I smiled. "I've never been too drunk."

  She laughed and winked and nudged me. The force of her push turned me toward the Senator.

  "You guys did a great job here," Burnett said. "Even if you did overstep some boundaries."

  Frank shrugged. "We talked to the right people. No one threw up a stop sign, so we moved. You think it would have been better to risk losing some of those kids?"

  Burnett finished his beer and gestured for another. "No, of course not. I understand that you had to act fast. Next time something like this happens, clear it through to the top. It makes my life easier and-"

  "Jack," Frank interrupted. "Incoming."

  I swiveled to the left and saw Tammy approaching. "Shit," I said.

  Burnett glanced over his shoulder and stood. "That's a grenade I'm dodging. Hitting the head. Back in a minute boys."

  Tammy leaned against the bar, in between me and Frank. "Jack, that offer still stands." She reached out, grabbed my tie, slipped a business card into my shirt pocket.

  Sarah leaned over my shoulder and said, "Mind taking your hands off my man?"

  Tammy looked at Sarah, then at me. "Not boyfriend material, huh?" She said it matter-of-factly and with no trace of disappointment in her voice.

  I shrugged and held out my hands. Tammy shook her head, then turned and walked toward the door, where her son was standing. I'd have figured she wouldn't let him leave her side after what happened. To each their own, I supposed. There was no need to waste time questioning it.

  After she slipped through the door, I turned to Frank and said, "I'm trying to get out of here. You think you can handle the Senator without me?"

  "Humor him for a few more. He's half pissed now. I'll get a cab for him soon and then you can be on your way."

  CHAPTER 11

  Burnett spent another half hour talking with us. Mostly praise, some criticism. We took it with smiles plastered on our faces. The alcohol helped. The fact that we needed the man for our funding helped even more. If the SIS disappeared, I'd be looking for work at the Treasury Department. No thanks.

  Finally, Burnett stood and held out his hand. I grabbed it, surprised when he pulled me off the stool and wrapped his other arm around my back.

  "You do good work, Jack," he said. "Good damn work." He took a step back and grabbed my shoulders. His fingers dug in a bit. My initial reaction was to knock his hands away. But I figured he only did it because of the alcohol, so I eased up. He gave me a shake and then let go. Stumbled a bit and nearly fell off the ledge that separated the bar from the rest of the room.

  Frank placed an arm on the Senator's shoulders and guided him toward the door. I heard the man protest that he could drive, and that his car was a block or two away. Frank insisted that he take a taxi. Whether he did or not, I had no idea. Frank didn't say, and I didn't ask when he returned to the bar and sat down next to me.

  "We'll be taking off now," I said.

  Frank reached out and grabbed my wrist. "Stay for a few more minutes."

  I gave him a look, shrugged, said nothing. I had one foot on the floor and the other on the stool's footrest.

  Frank gestured to the side with his head. "Let's make sure our guys get out OK. They're getting a bit rowdy over there."

  The other agents stood in the middle of a mostly empty room. A couple politicians hung around, but the families had wisely dispersed when they sensed things were turning into a party their children shouldn't witness.

  "Rowdy with each other," I said.

  "Does that make it any better? You know how these guys get when they drink."

  I sighed heavily and turned toward Sarah. "A few more minutes?"

  She dropped her right elbow on the bar and propped her head up with her hand. She mouthed the word fine to me and motioned toward the bartender for another drink. Who would be the one that would end up too drunk that night?

  My cell phone rang, cutting Frank off in the middle of a mindless sentence. The display said unknown caller. I picked it up off the bar, walked toward the door leading to the sidewalk and answered the phone.

  "Hello, Mr. Noble." The voice was awkward, slow-paced and had a tinny sound to it, almost like a machine modified it.

  I scanned the room to see if any of our guys were screwing around with me. Everyone was accounted for. No one had a phone to their head.

  "Who is this?" I said.

  "Mr. Noble, do you make a habit out of interfering in other people's businesses?"

  I lowered my shoulder and pushed the door open. Stepped out onto the street and waited for a couple of younger women to pass by. "That depends on the business. There are some tha
t require my intervention."

  "That is a bad habit."

  "Yeah, well, it's the only thing that keeps me from smoking too much."

  "I'd never have pegged you for a comedian, Mr. Noble."

  "I have my moments."

  "I'm sure you do." He paused a beat and the line went silent except for the faint sound of static. "You should savor those moments. All of them, for that matter. Because they are running out."

  I scanned M Street up to the corner of 10th and back. Turned and checked the corner at 11th and didn't see anyone. The windows of the buildings across from me were dark and revealed nothing. Someone could be in there, I supposed.

  "That's good advice," I said. "But I'm afraid I'm going to be ignoring it."

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Whatever he was using to disguise his voice failed for a few seconds. Unfortunately, there was nothing distinguishing about the way the man spoke. His neutral accent and tone could have been any of tens of thousands of people.

  My patience grew thin. This guy knew who I was, which meant he probably had an idea of what I did for a living. "I'm getting tired of this game. This is a government phone and we can track this call back whether you're on the line or not. We've already been talking long enough. So get to the point or we'll be showing up at your doorstep and you can tell me face to face."

  The man laughed. He sounded like a deranged robotic clown. "No you aren't, and no you can't. But, I'll get to the point. You and your team of misfit agents, you all stuck your heads somewhere they didn't belong. Two of them died for it. Who's going to be next? I'll tell you. You didn't solve a problem, Mr. Noble. No, you created a mess. And I'm going to clean it up, starting with you."

  "You're real convincing over a phone line, you know that?" I said. "Why don't you meet me at my office tomorrow and we'll get this squared away."

  He laughed again. "You are not in control, Jack. I'd suggest you listen up if you want to limit the casualties to yourself. It starts with the one whose hair is fair. A little boy, from the fire, you emerged. Intertwined, but the fire could not dine. Now the sins of the mother have been purged. But there's more to be done, and you are the one, who will face the torture of a thousand souls."

  "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "You've got thirty-seven hours to figure that out, Jack."

  The line fell silent. I scanned the street and storefronts again, and then walked to the corner of the building, staying close to the shadows to check the parking lot. I quickly returned to the front door and pushed it open.

  Frank leaned back against the bar and raised a shot glass in my direction, leaned his head back and tossed the drink in his mouth. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and exhaled loudly. I crossed the floor and stopped two feet in front of him.

  "What's up, Jack?" he said. The smell of stale liquor carried on his breath. "Old girlfriend?"

  I noticed Sarah glance back over her shoulder.

  "No," I said. "Stop screwing around. We've got a problem."

  Frank's face straightened and so did his body. "What is it?"

  I recounted the conversation I had on the phone with the man with the machine voice. Instinctively, I figured it had to be someone who knew us. Maybe had a beef with us. Someone involved with a terrorist group, using the riddle as some sort of decoy.

  "The little blond boy you rescued?" Frank said.

  I nodded. "That's what I figure. But why bring him up? That's all classified."

  "Someone we busted or broke up their organization, right? So, he sees the picture in the paper. Remembers your face. Pulls some strings, throws around some money and gets your number."

  I shook my head. "We got that picture cleaned up before they ran it. No one saw my face."

  Frank leaned back again. He shook off the bartender when asked if he needed another drink. "The news, Jack. Remember in the firehouse? You were on TV."

  "I was?"

  "You were," Sarah said. "Carrying that little boy out of the burning house. Same little boy who stood right there," she pointed to a spot near the front door, "while his mother tried to pick you up."

  "The sins of the mother have been purged," I said, recalling the words the man spoke in a singsong robotic voice.

  "You don't think he-"

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the card Tammy had slipped inside it on her way out the door. On it was her name and phone number. "I'm going to find out." I dialed the number and placed the phone on speaker.

  "Hello," a man said, his voice deep and dry.

  CHAPTER 12

  "Who is this?" I said.

  "This is Stallworth. Look, are you related to," he paused a beat, then continued, "Tammy Nockowitz?"

  "What?" I said.

  Frank pushed out his hands and nodded fervently.

  "Uh, yeah, I am," I said. "This is her husband. Who is this? What's going on?"

  Frank leaned in. I had to pull the phone back before he got too close and deafened the man with his heavy breathing.

  "I'm a paramedic with D.C. Fire. I'm not supposed to do this, but your wife's been in a bad accident. Hit and run. She's unconscious and losing blood."

  "What? How?"

  The man said nothing.

  "My boy, is he OK?"

  "No boy here, sir."

  "What do you mean no boy? She left with him. Little blond haired guy, eight years old."

  The phone rustled and we heard the muffled sound of the man shouting something to the effect of had anyone seen a little boy nearby. A lump rose in my throat, and I feared that the child had been ejected from the car, his little body lying on the side of the highway. I assumed Sarah wondered the same thing because I noticed her eyes were wide and she held her breath.

  "No little boy in the car or in the area. Look, the back seat is crushed. He wouldn't have made it out of the car. I think it's safe to say that your wife was traveling alone."

  "Where will you take her?"

  "GWU Hospital."

  I hung up and placed my phone on the bar. "Christ."

  "Agreed," Frank said.

  "George Washington University isn't that far," I said. "The accident must have occurred pretty close to here."

  "What about the boy?" Frank said.

  "The man's got the boy," Sarah said.

  We both turned toward her. For the first time, we realized that she had been paying attention to everything that had happened. From me telling Frank about the phone call, the call with the paramedic, Sarah knew all of it. And when I saw Frank's jaw muscles working hard, I knew what he intended to do about it.

  Frank hopped off his stool and said, "We're gonna have-"

  I placed my left hand between them. "Frank, let's not go there yet."

  "You're not locking me up," she said. "I'm coming with you."

  "Where?" Frank said.

  "To the hospital," she said.

  "Bullshit you are," Frank said. "You're going into lock down until we know what the hell is going on."

  "I can give you an opinion on the injuries," she said. "I don't think this was an accident and I can prove it if you'll let me take a look at her. Plus, if you need to leave with her, I can monitor her during transport."

  Frank shot me a look. I shrugged at first, then nodded after a moment of contemplation. I had no objections to keeping Sarah around for a little while, at least for as long as we were in the hospital. Chances are we'd head back to headquarters after that, and I'd try to convince her to stay behind if things looked to be heading in a dangerous direction.

  "OK, fine," Frank said. "I'm going to call us a cab."

  "What about them?" I said.

  "Who?" he said, not bothering to look at me.

  "Our guys? Want to fill them in?"

  "No," Frank said. "Not until we absolutely have to. And even then, no."

  I moved closer to Sarah. "You sure you want to go along? This might be dangerous."

  Her voice trembled with anticipation. "I live in danger. M
y job is full of danger. I can handle this."

  Was it false bravado, the way she acted? I couldn't tell. Frank would make her my responsibility. If something happened, I'd have to answer for it. He didn't have to come out and say it. It was assumed.

  The bartender placed three to-go coffee mugs on the counter. "Guys look like you could use this."

  I nodded my thanks and grabbed my cup and Frank's, and then walked toward the door with Sarah. We waited for Frank. When he showed, I pushed the door open and stepped into the freezing night air. I hadn't noticed it when I stepped outside earlier, buzzed and preoccupied. But time and shock had sobered me. Now I felt the cold as it whipped and sliced and found its way into every opening in my clothing.

  "Cab'll be here any minute," Frank said.

  My phone vibrated inside my pocket. I pulled it out and held it above waist level. Frank and Sarah closed in on me and hovered over the screen. We all read the same thing, unknown caller.

  "It's him," I said.

  CHAPTER 13

  I answered the phone on the fourth ring.

  "Thirty-six hours, Mr. Noble." Same voice, still robotic, tinny, and evil.

  "Till what?"

  "That should be evident by now, shouldn't it?"

  I said nothing. My eyes met Frank's and I watched as he tried to process the voice streaming through the phone's speaker. It wouldn't do any good. It was only a disguise. And in my experience, the only ones to use disguises were extreme cowards, or extremely dangerous men.

  "I hear that Ms. Nockowitz is being transported to the hospital. She should be going to the morgue. Unfortunately, D.C. is the last big city in the U.S. to have concerned citizens. I've dispatched a few men to finish the job. But I'll make you a deal, Jack. Interested?"

  I fought back the anger that pushed up through my insides and said, "Yeah."

  "Get there first, and my men will back off, for now. But know this, if you try to notify the police, the little boy loses a finger."

  "How do I know you've got the boy?"

  There was a pause, and then, "Mommy?" the voice was soft and sincere and clouded by tears. And it sounded human, which told me that the man was speaking through a device and it wasn't something implanted in the phone.