“Do you like pumpkins?” he murmured seductively into Marybeth’s ear.
I was so angry, but also oddly calm as I eased one step closer and then another, never moving the gun from my shoulder. But the twelve feet between us might as well have been a mile. The men outside had yet to make another demand.
“I don’t think your friend likes pumpkins,” he said to me as I took another step. I began to move east to get around another table. “It’s too bad,” he whined, “I hope you like them.”
“I don’t,” I said.
“Aww, then you aren’t gonna like your friend anymore,” he said. That ominous statement let me know I was out of options. Confirming my aim, I let out a breath as I squeezed the trigger.
Click. Empty.
His smile grew even larger and his arm around Marybeth’s neck tensed up as he brought the match toward his mouth and popped it in like a mint. The match disappeared into his mouth with a sizzle and the room went dark. I heard the start of a scream followed by a giggle as I dropped the rifle and lunged forward over one table and then another, navigating the room from the memory of match light. I dove the last few feet with my arms outstretched, arching through the air in perfect form to the place I’d last seen them. But instead of colliding with them and heroically knocking the knife out the Creep’s hand, I fell face first onto the floor. The Creep and Marybeth had vanished.
My belly flop had bounced me off the wet tile floor and slid me into a wall, once again ringing my bell. I made a note to myself to find a helmet for my misadventures going forward.
“Marybeth!” I screamed but there was no answer, not even a whimper. I crabbed back to where I thought they had been and felt around on my hands and knees. I didn’t think about the Creep or the big knife, just the terrified little girl that had been in my charge. The floor was wet and sticky. With dawning agony I recognized the coppery smell of blood in the air.
“Marybeth!” I screamed again and again as I resumed my search on the floor in the darkness. He couldn’t have killed her! Nobody would do that, not to a child! My gun had been empty! My brain couldn’t accept it. My heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest as my screaming turned to sobbing. My search on the floor was futile but I continued thrashing around anyway until I came to a breathless stop balled up on the ground and bawling like a baby.
“Sir, I don’t know what’s going on in there, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” called the voice from outside. A different voice yelled clear and I heard the clanging sound of a canister bouncing around on the floor.
For the next moment time stopped and I remember two distinct things. The first was my final coherent thought which was what fresh hell is this? The second was a whumpf sound and the world lighting up around me like the surface of the sun. But in that millisecond before I went blind I saw that room like the flash from a camera. I saw her mangled body just outside the cone of the area I had searched where he must have dragged her after cutting her throat. She was lying there with her eyes open. Staring at me, not with reproach but with the pure surprise of the very young. Just beyond her under an unlit signed marked EXIT the Creep stood leering at me like a hideous nightmare. But in heartbeat he was gone as though he’d never been there. In fact, everything was gone, painted over in painful white light. So painful I was nauseous. My head was pounding, my ears were ringing, my mouth was sweating and I couldn’t see. If I would have had a gun I would have shot myself but instead I laid there wondering how life could be so shitty and things could escalate so quickly.
Chapter 15: An Old Flame
The Past
“I need to clear the apartment first, sir,” Kurt said, pushing past a sleepy-eyed Harrie, who had met the President and his entourage at the door. Muddy had called ahead and asked permission to swing by for a while. He had done his best to sound suggestive but also didn’t want to over sell it. Harrie clearly got the message as she appeared to be wearing only a bath robe.
Kurt made sure there were no terrorists hiding under the bed or in the closets and came back out to the family room. “So, if it’s okay with you, sir, I will just set up camp here while you and Ms. Leland conduct your business. I assume you will be using the office.”
Though Kurt had used the word office he had actually gestured toward Harrie’s bedroom door. Harrie’s face grew red and she tried to hide a smile. Muddy’s face also got red but only because Kurt was acting like such a buffoon. “No, Mr. Naffziger, you will wait downstairs in the lobby. I will be fine. When I am ready to leave I will let you know. Now if you’ll excuse us, please,” Muddy said.
“Yes, sir, Mr. President,” Kurt replied. He looked so defeated as he walked out the door, Muddy almost felt sorry for him.
When he was gone and the door was shut, Harrie turned to him with a big smile on her face. She walked up to him untying her robe. He had been correct in thinking she was wearing nothing underneath. Muddy stood as still as a stone as she placed her arms around his neck and pressed into him. Some kind of jasmine body lotion assaulted his nose and he could feel himself stir against her. Embarrassment and regret coursed through his mind at the same time, she was so soft. He could feel the intense heat of her skin even through his clothes. He returned her embrace with a swell of desire and nearly lost himself in the sweet taste of her neck but then he remembered why he had come. Extricating himself from her arms was a monumental feat but he managed it by envisioning Dick’s face instead of hers.
The confusion on her face broke his heart. He wanted her so badly but he had a duty he had sworn an oath to carryout and as much as he’d like to, it didn’t involve making love to Harrie. “I am so sorry, Harrie,” he began, “but I’m afraid I’ve come here under false pretenses.”
“What do you mean, Martin?” she stammered as she struggled not to cry and cinched up her silk robe.
“Please believe me when I say I want nothing more than to stay here with you all night. I have wanted this for such a long time, wanted you, but-“
“But what, Martin? We are here now. Quit fighting it, just let it happen,” she said. She took his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly on the mouth.
“I really want to,” he said, stepping back from her. “But it’s quite complicated.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“I know, but I am going to explain it because I need your help,” he said and led her to the couch. Over the next hour he explained as best he could about Dick and the shadowy organization he represented, the Safety First Act and how they extorted him. Finishing with Ezra’s disappearance and his possible twin sister. He watched her face change from blatant shock and disbelief to gradual acceptance. Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief. If Harrie didn’t believe him nobody would.
“So you think whatever Ezra discovered will help you fight back against these people?”
“I do. If I can just get to his sister’s apartment, I know I will find some answers,” Muddy said.
“Well then, Mr. President,” Harrie said. “Let me throw on some traveling clothes and I will show you to the fire escape.”
“Wait, I didn’t mean for you to come with me, it could be dangerous, I just need you to cover for me with the Secret Service.”
“Pardon me, Martin, but we are in this together now. Besides it will be a lot easier for you to navigate around the city with me than it would be for you to do it alone.”
She had a good point. Ten minutes later they were tiptoeing in the rain down a rickety fire escape that hadn’t been up to code since the Carter Administration. Harrie was dressed like a gorgeous cat burglar in black jeans and a sweater and he was dressed like the President of the United States except for an old baseball cap Harrie had found in her closet. When they finally made it to the wet cement surface of the alley, Muddy did a silent Hail Mary. It would have made quite a headline for the President to have fallen to his death from his mistress’s fire escape.
They walked a full three blocks through a series of alleys to av
oid accidentally running in to the Secret Service. When they felt it was safe, Harrie hailed a cab while Muddy pretended to shield himself from the wind and rain with his coat. She gave the cabbie the Park View address Martin had shared with her before they left. On the way there they played at being lovers while the cabbie stole glances at them in the rear-view mirror. Eventually, they came to a stop in front of a shabby brownstone. Harrie paid the driver and they stood hand in hand in front of the building. “How do you want to do this?” Harrie asked
“You know me, straight forward or bust,” Muddy said and together they approached the entrance.
The door to the lobby was slightly ajar. It appeared the locking mechanism had been broken for a while. Apartment 4 required a short trip to the second floor. The elevator looked ancient so they took the stairs. “What if she freaks out?” Muddy said, mostly to himself.
“Then we kill her,” Harrie replied.
Muddy stopped short and Harrie bumped into him on the stairs. “What did you say?”
“I was joking, Martin, relax.”
“Yeah, Okay,” Muddy said and they continued up the stairs until they were standing in front of Apartment 4. Muddy looked at Harrie and checked his watch, it was almost 11 PM and Ruthwould probably freak out. Harrie nodded at him to get on with it so he knocked on the door.
A dog started barking, it sounded like a little yapper. The kind of dog Muddy hated. Through the door he heard a woman attempt to shush the dog and then footsteps. “Who’s there?” She called through the door.
The President of the United States, he thought. “My name is Martin Brown, I am a friend of Ezra’s.”
“I don’t know anyone named Ezra. You need to leave before I call the police.”
Muddy was confused. Did he have the wrong address? She didn’t sound afraid. She sounded pissed off for being bothered so late at night. Probably thought he was trying to break in.
“I know you’re still out there. I am going to count to three and then call 911. I promise.”
“We should go, Martin, doesn’t sound like we have the right person,” Harrie said softly in his ear.
“Listen to your friend, Martin,” the voice called through the door, “One-two-”
“Okay, we’re going,” Muddy said as Harrie was tugging him back toward the stairs. He had taken a few steps when he thought of something and ran back to the door, “Ma’am,” he called, “Corky sent me.”
Aside from the panting of the dog, Muddy couldn’t hear anything coming from the other side of the door. He wondered if she was currently dialing the police and how embarrassing it would be for them to bust the President of the United States for trespassing in a rundown D.C. apartment building. Instead, Muddy heard her put the dog down and begin unlocking the deadbolt. A moment later he stood face to face with the woman from Ezra’s photo. Her face was full of shock presumably at finding the President standing outside her door.
“Are you Ezra’s sister?” Muddy asked.
It took a moment for her to compose herself and then she cleared her throat, “Hello, Mr. President,” then his question finally registered and her eyes lit up with hope. “Do you know where he is?”
Muddy’s face fell and what little hope he had that Ezra was hiding inside vanished. “I am afraid I do not, ma’am. I was hoping you might know something as to his current location. To be honest, I sort of expected I would find him here.”
She seemed to remember they were standing in the hallway. “Please come in, both of you, I am so sorry, I couldn’t see your face through the peephole and I didn’t recognize your friend.” She ushered them in with a sudden burst of motherly concern. “You must be chilled to the bone, Mr. President, all that rain. Please forgive my manners. This isn’t a good neighborhood.”
“It’s quite all right, ma’am, my sincere apologies for intruding at such a late hour. If it wasn’t an urgent matter I would’ve waited until tomorrow.”
“Nonsense,” she said as took their jackets and bustled them over to a worn, yet comfortable, sofa, “And call me Ruth. I will put on some tea.”
Ten minutes later they were sipping their tea from steaming mugs. Ruth said, “Last I heard Ezra was interning somewhere in the Capitol, how do you know him?”
“He was actually helping me out with something.”
“My brother was working for you?” she asked incredulously.
“He was. Just for a short time, but he was.”
“Ezra never told me. That’s not surprising, we weren’t that close. Kind of took divergent paths when we were young. But he has been good to me over the years, sends me money when he can. I haven’t actually seen him in a few months.”
“The project we were working on was rather important; are you certain you haven’t heard from him?” Muddy asked.
“I said I haven’t seen him in months but a few days ago he called me and left a message. I would’ve answered but I didn’t recognize the number.”
“What was the message?” asked Harrie.
“He said he was in some hot water and had to lay low for a while but was sending me a package. I was to hold onto it until somebody came with the code word.”
“Corky?” Muddy asked.
“That’s the word. It was the name of this little mutt we had when we were kids. When you said that name I figured you were the one. Anyway, it was a pretty troubling message so I tried redialing the number but it wasn’t in service. Neither was the other number he used to have. I was going to go to his apartment but I don’t drive and I hate taking the bus so I was still working my way up to that.”
“Do you still have the package?”
She said she did and went to retrieve it while they waited sipping their tea in awkward silence.
“Do you think Ezra is okay?” Harrie asked.
“God, I hope so,” Muddy said. “He is a nice kid.”
Ruth came back a moment later toting a manila envelope that was still sealed.
“You didn’t open it?” Muddy asked as he took the package from her hand.
“No, Ezra said not to in the message. For my own safety.”
“You did the right thing, Ruth,” Muddy said.
Muddy opened the package while Ruth showed Harrie to the bathroom. He removed a small stack of papers with a hand-written note from Ezra on the top. It was in an envelope that said please read privately.
Dear Mr. President,
As you mentioned when you first gave me this task, I did think it was stupid. In fact, the hours of research I put into it did little to dispel that feeling as it really felt like a fool’s errand. I spent considerable time in the Library of Congress looking into every topic on your list without finding anything of consequence.
Eventually, I did succumb to using the internet but I felt it was necessary to ensure I crossed all my ‘T’s and doted all my ‘I’s, because as stupid as it seemed at the time, I still wanted to do a thorough job.
Shortly after I went online for the first time an interesting thing happened. After taking a bathroom break one afternoon I returned to my workstation in the library to discover a folder had been left on my stack of books and papers. The information contained therein was sufficient enough to scare the shit out of me. I have taken preventative measures to protect myself and yet still fulfill my duties to you. If you are reading this then you found my sister. Please do your best to keep her out of this.
P.S. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but it is what it is. The photo speaks for itself and I have no idea what it means aside from the fact that you mustn’t trust anyone.
A thump from another part of the apartment gave Muddy pause, “Harrie? Ruth? Everything okay?” he called.
“We’re fine,” came the reply.
Muddy nodded to nobody in particular and moved on to the next item in the stack with a feeling of trepidation. It was a photo.
The picture was old, like 1800s old. It took him a moment but then he recognized James Garfield, 20thPresident of the United States, stan
ding in the Oval Office posing for the camera. Men and women fanned out behind him around the desk. It was a perhaps a staff photograph but Muddy wasn’t sure. He noted the grainy images surrounding the slain President as an interesting historical photo but could not imagine how it revealed anything about the Syndicate. That is until his eyes fixed on the beautiful woman standing just behind President Garfield to his right. His jaw dropped and his heart skipped a beat when he recognized her features even through the black and white photograph.No fucking way this is real.
“Well shit, Muddy, I really wish you hadn’t seen that,” Harrie said from behind him.
His final thought before a tremendous jolt of pain blew through his head was what a bummer it was she had called him Muddy and not Martin and then everything went black.
Chapter 16: Revenge of the Dick
The Past
Dick stepped onto the tarmac at Area 51 with a sense of contentment he hadn’t felt in years. As far as he was concerned today was ‘D’ Day. To him that meant Dick Day but to Project Simon it would mean Doomsday. Either way worked for him.
The men guarding the security booth allowed him admittance to the elevator with only a cursory review. They seemed a trifle taken aback when he greeted them each by name and wished them well.
Dick whistled as he waited for the door to close. In spite of his devil-may-care appearance on the outside he had been praying they wouldn’t start following protocol and insist on searching his bag. He needn’t have worried. The security team was far too intimidated by Dick to follow any protocols where he was concerned. The rules just didn’t apply to him.
He exited the elevator full of strident purpose and radiating confidence. “Consider this fair warning,” he announced. “After today’s briefing I will be doing routine inspections and drills for the remainder of the day on all aspects of Area 51’s security protocols.”
Running with the Horde (Book 2): Delusions of Monsters Page 13
