She goes quiet, staring off into the distance.
“Was he a close friend?”
She nods slightly. “A coworker, but yes, I guess he was a close friend.”
“And then there’s Melissa.” I shake my head. “You really should just leave.”
“Where would I go?”
“I don’t know. Hole up in some motel room or something. Just wait this out, see what happens afterward.”
The truck stop is relatively busy. Cars and tractor-trailers coming and going. A Massachusetts state police cruiser pulls into the lot. It parks only four spaces away from where Ashley and I stand.
“Or maybe you could talk to him.”
Ashley watches the trooper as he extracts himself from the car and heads inside.
She turns back to me. “How would I know for sure he’s trustworthy? He might be like the cop that tried to kill you back in Jersey. He might be one of them.”
“These people can’t be that powerful. It’s just not possible.”
Ashley drops the spent cigarette to the ground. “I think all your dead brothers and sisters and their families would disagree, don’t you?”
• • •
Eli finishes gassing up and moves the Buick into an open spot nearby. He gets out and heads toward us, the New York Giants hat on his head, his face tilted down, worried just like the rest of us about the cameras.
“You two aren’t eating anything?”
We tell him no. He says he’s grabbing something and will be right back out. Ashley smokes the rest of her second cigarette and we head back to the Buick. She gets in the front, I get in the back.
Marta is still playing with her iPhone.
I ask her, “David still alive?”
“So far it seems he is. I called his office asking for him and they said he was already in surgery.” She tilts the iPhone’s screen toward me. “I’ve pulled up a map of the facility. It’s like any other major hospital, a complete maze. Plus there are cameras everywhere.”
“So we just don’t walk in and grab him?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“What if we try contacting him?”
“John, I know you think Eli and I are being selfish right now, but this is our only option. We can’t contact David, at least as things currently stand. Like Eli said, they’re not going to touch him until they know we’re in the area.”
“So we’re just going to, what, wait outside and hope one or the other shows up first?”
Marta sighs. She puts down the iPhone, rubs her eyes. She glances toward the truck stop. “I might as well use the restroom while we’re here. We have another two hours ahead of us.”
Once she’s gone, I tell Ashley, “I’m not letting my brother be bait. That’s complete bullshit.”
“I agree, but right now I don’t think we have much choice, just like your mother said.”
“She’s not my mother.”
Ashley sighs.
I ask, “What are you still doing here anyway? Seriously, you should make a run for it.”
“I want to see this through.”
“Why?”
“I have my own reasons.” She pauses a beat, then lets out a deep breath. “I’m a journalist, okay? Almost all my career I’ve done fluff pieces on celebrities. My whole life has been shallow like that. For once, I’d like to do something meaningful.”
“So what, you plan to expose these people?”
“If I can, yes. I can’t stand what they did to Melissa and her family.”
“You heard what Eli said before. They’ve already tried bringing this to the press. Each time it ended in a reporter’s death.”
She’s quiet for another beat, then says in a soft voice, “I still have to try.”
I glance out the window and watch the trooper exit the gas station and climb into his cruiser. He backs the car out of the space and heads for the exit. Coming in the entrance at the same time is a large ambulance. It doesn’t park in front of truck stop but in one of the spaces farther back. Two EMTs steps out and head inside.
I ask, “You still want to help me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Because I think I have a plan.”
thirty-eight
The Medford Medical Center sat near the heart of the city, a sprawling twelve-story building that encompassed an entire block. It had a helicopter pad. It had a garden. It had a fountain. It had basically everything you would expect from a modern day non-profit medicine mansion. Even from a half mile away, as they drove closer and closer to the hospital through the city streets of Medford, they could see the large glass structure shimmering in the midday sun.
John asked, “Where’s David’s office located anyway?”
Marta got out her iPhone again. She brought up the map of the hospital.
“It looks like he’s on the third floor, on the south side.”
“How do we know he’s not in surgery?”
“We don’t.”
“Can I see the phone for a sec?”
Marta handed him the iPhone.
“So where are we going to be,” he asked, staring down at the screen, “just loitering across the street, waiting for these people to kill him?”
Neither Eli nor Marta offered up any reply. Ashley wasn’t surprised. She knew they weren’t bad people, not like the people now hunting them, but they weren’t quite good people, either. Hadn’t Eli pretty much admitted to killing years ago? Even if it had been in self-defense, even if those people had been bad, taking a life was still taking a life. How did you come back from something like that?
Handing the phone back to Marta, John said, “We really don’t have a plan here, do we?”
Eli didn’t speak for a couple of long seconds. Finally he sighed. “Yes, we have a plan.”
“And what is it?”
“To kill these bastards before they kill us.”
• • •
They ended up in a parking garage three blocks away from the hospital. Eli parked in a corner on the fourth level. He backed the Buick into the empty space so the trunk was pointed toward the cinderblock wall. They got out and stretched and Eli opened the trunk and started rummaging through the bags.
“Have you ever fired a gun?” Eli asked John.
“Once, a long time ago. I was in Europe and we were drunk and this guy had a pistol, one of those things the Nazis used. He was vague on where he’d gotten it from, but he let me shoot it.”
“Did you hit the target?”
“To be honest, I don’t remember there being a target.”
Eli dug out a silver handgun, started to hand it to John, but hesitated. “You’ve seen movies and TV with guns, right?”
“I’m an American, aren’t I?”
“While the movies and TV are exaggerated, the same basic principles apply. This button here ejects the magazine. You slap it back in like this. This is the safety. If you want to shoot anything, make sure it’s thumbed off. Then all you do is point and shoot.”
John took the gun from Eli, staring down at it warily. “Easiest thing in the world, huh?”
Eli handed Marta another handgun, along with two spare magazines. He pulled out a third gun, hesitated again, then turned to Ashley.
“No,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve never shot one before,” she said quickly. “But ... I’ll take it if I need to.”
“It’s probably best you do.”
She nodded, knowing it was true and hating that this was now her reality.
Eli placed the gun in her hand and it wasn’t nearly as heavy as she had thought it would be. It was almost too light, like a toy, and the idea that this was a weapon that could take life caused a sour rumbling deep in the pit of her stomach.
“This is like Christmas morning,” John said. “What else did Santa bring us?”
Eli didn’t answer his son. He opened the other bag and pulled out several thick pieces of clothing that at first didn’t make sen
se to Ashley.
“You know what these are?” Eli asked John, tossing him one of the pieces of clothing.
“Bulletproof vests.”
“Yes, but even though they’re called bulletproof vests, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll keep you alive if someone shoots you.”
John started pulling the vest on over his head. “How comforting.” He tightened the Velcro straps on the sides and said, “You know what I just realized?”
“What?”
“You’ve given more stuff today than you ever have before.”
Eli grunted. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
• • •
Once they were set, John asked, “Now what?”
“Now we get back in the car and move to another location.”
“What about a bathroom break?”
“John, don’t start.”
“I’m serious. You want us to be in the heat of battle and all I can think about is not shitting myself?”
Eli’s lips became a tight line. He exhaled loudly through his nose and said, “Fine. We passed a McDonald’s two blocks back. You remember it?”
“I do.”
“Be back in ten minutes.”
“Fingers crossed they have enough toilet paper.”
John started away, toward the stairs leading down to the first level.
Ashley waited until he was halfway there before she said, “Um ...”
Both Eli and Marta looked at her.
“I could actually use the restroom, too,” she said, then immediately looked away, embarrassed.
Eli sighed again. “Fine, but stick close to John. And remember, keep your head down in case of traffic cams.”
She headed toward the stairs just as John disappeared around the corner. She forced herself not to look back to see whether Eli and Marta were watching her. She tried to hurry in a calm sort of way, weaving between the parked cars, the gun in her jacket pocket digging into her side. Then she turned the corner and there stood John, waiting for her.
“Ready?” he whispered.
thirty-nine
Yesterday was all about bad luck. Today, so far at least, good luck seems to be on our side. At least in terms of Eli letting us go to McDonald’s on our own. He expects us to be back in ten minutes. It’s not quite a reasonable window, all things considering. But it doesn’t matter. When Ashley and I hit the street, we don’t head toward the McDonald’s. Instead we head in the other direction, walking fast.
Ashley keeps pace beside me. “Are you sure this is going to work?”
I try not to laugh. “Are you kidding me? I’m making all this up as I go along.”
We reach the end of the block and I have that strange feeling you get when someone’s watching you. I glance back, and while the sidewalk is pretty busy, I can’t spot anybody watching us.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Let’s move.”
We turn the corner and keep going, nearly jogging.
Ashley says, “The chances of this working are pretty minimal.”
“Try not to think about it.”
“At this point it’s all I can think about.”
She’s right, of course. This plan is barely even a plan. If anything it’s just an idea. Not even an idea—a kernel of an idea. But hey, it sounded good at the time. Now that we’re actually in motion, though, reality has begun to set in.
“Shouldn’t we be headed toward the hospital?”
I shake my head. “I used the map feature on Marta’s phone to look up nursing homes near the hospital.”
“Why nursing homes?”
“This courier I knew used to drive ambulances. Said he made pickups and drop-offs at nursing homes, taking the old folks to the hospital for appointments. He hated it.”
We cross the street and turn the next corner and there it is, the Medford Retirement Community. It’s an officious name for something that’s nothing more than a convalescent home. Six stories tall, red drab brick, it’s a place that exudes death.
“Okay,” Ashley says, catching her breath. “Now what?”
“Let’s head around back.”
• • •
Luck continues to be on our side. The back of the Medford Retirement Community has a rear entrance with a ramp designed for ambulances and delivery trucks. Right now an ambulance is waiting by the doors.
It’s not one of the big boxes like you normally see. This one is a van, painted red and white, the word EMERGENCY printed loudly on both sides.
Ashley and I wait near the corner. We keep looking up and down the block, like that’s going to help us.
She whispers, “What are we waiting for?”
“I just realized something.
“What’s that?”
“I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Does that mean we’re scrapping the plan?”
“No. Just wanted to get that off my chest.”
An EMT emerges from the building with an old woman in a wheelchair. He pushes her toward the van as the driver opens his door and steps out. He’s a bear of a guy, nearly seven feet tall, maybe two hundred fifty pounds, the majority of it muscle. Shaved head, broad-shouldered, he’s the kind of guy who probably wouldn’t easily back down, even if a gun were shoved in his face.
“I think we should skip this one.”
Ashley peeks around the corner as the two EMTs open the back and wait for a lift to lower to the pavement.
“The old lady, right?”
“Sure. That’s the reason.”
Once the lift comes down completely, they back the old woman’s wheelchair onto the metal plate and secure her with straps and then stand back as the lift rises into the air. Soon she’s in the van, secured even more, and the lift disappears and the two EMTs climb back into their respective seats.
“Let’s wait for the next one.”
Ashley doesn’t respond.
I glance back to check on her and immediately say, “Oh fuck.”
Eli and Marta are standing there. Eli’s face is red with anger. And in his hand, hidden from the rest of the street but very clear to me and Ashley, is a gun.
• • •
“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?”
When neither of us answers, when it becomes clear our attentions are focused on the gun, Eli makes an exasperated noise and shoves the gun in his pocket.
I blink and look up at him. “How’d you find us?”
“Why are you here?”
“We’re not waiting around for David to get killed.”
“You’re not?”
“No, we’re sneaking in and saving him.”
He laughs. He glances at Marta but Marta doesn’t seem to find it funny. Her face is pinched, concerned, scared.
The transport van peeks around the corner. It pauses for traffic and then pulls out, headed in the direction of the hospital.
Eli’s smile fades. He watches the ambulance for a few seconds. “Not a bad idea. How were you going to do it?”
“Wasn’t really sure. Figured the guns would come in handy.”
He nods, thinking it over. Another glance toward Marta, who doesn’t speak, and then he says, “I have a better plan that’s potentially less violent.”
“Such as?”
He reaches into his jacket pocket, a different pocket than which he had placed the gun. His hand comes back out with a black object.
“Know what this is?”
“It’s a Taser.”
“Exactly.” He hands it to me. “Now here’s what I want you to do with it.”
forty
It was another twenty minutes—nearly going on two o’clock—before a second ambulance approached the rear of the nursing home.
Ashley stood with John halfway down the block, huddled around a parking meter, John acting like he was depositing coins. Across the block strolled Eli and Marta, side by side, like any older couple out for an afternoon constitutional through the city.
T
he ambulance was one of those large boxes. It slowed for the turn, disappearing from Ashley’s and John’s view. Eli and Marta could see it from their vantage point, though, and a few seconds later Eli shook his head slightly as he and Marta continued down the block.
No go. This was another pickup, not a drop-off.
And so they waited. The ambulance reappeared and drove off toward the hospital. Traffic—what little there was on this side street—went back and forth. Five minutes passed, then ten minutes. Ashley and John walked up the block, then down the block, taking their time. Across the street, Eli and Marta did the same. They tried not to be conspicuous about it, but anyone watching long enough might scratch their heads at the inanity of their movements.
Finally, after twenty more minutes, another ambulance appeared.
Ashley and John took their positions by the parking meter. Eli and Marta once again started their stroll across the street.
The ambulance slowed to make the turn, then disappeared around the corner. Ashley and John watched Eli and Marta. For several long seconds neither of them made any signal. Then, slightly, Eli nodded once.
Which meant it was time.
• • •
After making its drop-off, the ambulance started back toward the street. It was going at a slow enough speed, the driver pressing on the brake, but still that didn’t stop Ashley and John from completing their part of the plan.
They were headed down the sidewalk, laughing at nothing, giggling at nothing, John reaching out and tickling her side and Ashley doing the same, going for that spot right behind his arm, and John, turning around, jumped back at the same instant the ambulance appeared around the corner.
Ashley saw it all happen. She saw John jump back just as the ambulance appeared and abruptly stopped. She saw that it barely hit John, but still he fell to the ground, groaning loudly. Ashley, summoning all her courage, followed through with her next part.
Legion Page 16
