by Aiden James
Agent Ben Casey strolled into the room carrying a pair of handcuffs by his side. The cuffs clanked together softly as he walked over to Jack, his face expressionless and his eyes as cold as they were earlier. Filled with unease by the agent’s nonchalance and Peter’s absence, Jack stepped back.
“You’re cleared to leave, Mr. Kenney,” Casey informed him, the meanness of his look transferring easily to his acidic tone. “You’ll need to put these on again until safely removed from the premises. Standard protocol.”
Jack nodded warily and took a step toward him. Casey motioned for him to stop.
“Where’s Peter?”
“You’ll join him shortly,” the agent advised. “He wanted a head start to your destination.”
“And, Jeremy?”
“He’s waiting upstairs in a car, now.”
Jack stuck his arms out in front of him, ready to be cuffed.
“Uh-uh-uh,” chided Casey. “Turn around with your arms outstretched behind your back.”
Though wary, Jack did as instructed. He felt the steel’s coldness around his wrists and heard the handcuffs click when fastened.
“Now, face me and we’ll be on our way.”
Jack turned to face him. The agent grabbed his right arm, roughly, and led him out of the interrogation room. From there, the two walked down a long corridor with armed guards posted at various points along the corridor’s length. As they passed each guard, they exchanged nods with the agent, but stared straight ahead as Jack passed by. He wondered if the same silent communication took place when he first arrived, since blindfolded without any sense of the guards’ presence.
At the end of the corridor, a flight of stairs led up to the building’s main level. Though the sentinels posted here seemed to know Casey fairly well, they still verified his I.D. badge before stepping aside for him. He led Jack up the stairs and over to the building’s exit, where the last four guards awaited them. They stood at attention, solemn, while the agent placed his badge into the security slot next to the door.
Unlike the previous access points, this one also contained a full-hand reader and retinal scanner. Once his physical identity was confirmed, the door slid open. He nodded to the guards, who again acknowledged his presence while ignoring Jack. Casey led him out of the building and into a small parking area.
Shrouded in darkness, except for a small dim light above the exit, if not for the taillights and soft engine purr from the pair of sedans parked just in front of them, Jack wouldn’t have been able to tell either car’s location. The center’s location was somewhere remote, yet accessible to a metropolitan area for Peter to have mentioned Richmond’s close proximity.
The front passenger door from the nearest sedan swung open and Agent Steve Iverson stepped out of the vehicle. A lump immediately formed in Jack’s throat that grew even larger as the dome light illuminated the car’s other occupants. Frank Reynolds’ massive frame was squeezed into the driver’s seat, and Jeremy was seated directly behind him. The sullen anger on his brother’s face let Jack know he had an urgent bone to pick with him.
“It’s so good to see you again, Jack! Did you miss me?” taunted Iverson. “I believe your brother’s really missed you, because he sure seems anxious to talk with you!”
He moved over to the sedan’s rear door and opened it, motioning for Jack to join Jeremy in the back seat.
“Bring him over, Ben, so we can get moving!”
Casey shoved Jack toward the open door, and Iverson grabbed him by the shirt and threw him into the back seat. Before he could sit up straight, both agents secured his seat belt tight enough to restrict his arms.
Confused by the rough treatment, Jack glanced at his brother hoping he could provide an explanation. Jeremy’s upper lip was bleeding with a pair of welts just below his eyes.
“Ben, you’re riding with Bo Cochran,” said Iverson. “We’ll follow you over there.”
“So, Bo’s coming along for this after all?” Casey sounded amused as he stepped away from the car. In the soft glow provided by the dome light, Jack saw his perplexed look.
“He needs to be there—just like the rest of us!” Iverson eyed him sternly until Casey nodded obediently and walked over to the other sedan. The rear passenger door slammed shut and Iverson climbed into the front passenger seat. The dome light slowly dimmed to darkness after the door shut.
Reynolds and Iverson turned to face the brothers. Jack immediately looked down; feeling vulnerable and ill prepared to face either agent’s hostile glare. He chanced another look at his brother, surprised to find Jeremy glaring at him as well.
“You told them, didn’t you?” Jeremy sneered in disgust.
“Told them what?” replied Jack.
“Your story, Jack. Your goddamned story!”
“I...I didn’t tell them everything, Jeremy. Honest!” he said. “I only talked to Agent McNamee—I swear, man!”
“Ah, but you knew we were listening in, didn’t you?” said Reynolds, sounding amused by the potential fight brewing between them. “Quite a tale, I might add. Though, definitely worth keeping to one’s self.”
Jeremy looked away from Jack and studied the agent’s face in the sparse illumination provided by the car’s dashboard.
“Yeah, I’d have to agree with both your brother and Frank here,” Iverson added, snickering as he turned to face the other sedan, which now crept along a dim driveway. “I’d say you’re pretty much fucked, now!”
“What?? Where’s Peter? I want to speak with him right now!!” demanded Jack.
Reynolds turned to face the driveway and soon followed the other vehicle’s lead.
“Why’d you do it?” Jeremy lamented, his voice barely above a whisper. His anger had changed to bewilderment. “Why in the hell did you tell this Agent McNamee anything at all, Jackie?”
“Jeremy, we can trust him—I’m sure of it!” implored Jack. “It’s these other guys I’m not sure abou—”
“Damn it, Jackie, stop!!” Jeremy interrupted him. “You’re so fucking naïve, man! I mean, he’s one of them, just like these fine gentlemen sitting here with us!”
He motioned with his head to the front seat where the two agents glanced meanly at him.
Meanwhile, the sedans reached the end of the driveway, where it forked into two roads. The sign on the left said ‘Manassas Municipal Airport, 13 miles’, and the one on the right, ‘Manassas Park, 3 miles’. In between these roads sat a guard station.
A retractable barrier fence blocked both roads, and an armed guard stood on either side of the station. The lead sedan pulled up to the small brick building, and a large black man stuck his head out through the driver side window. In the bright glow provided by the station’s lights, Jack saw Casey sitting in the passenger side of the vehicle. Since no one else was inside the sedan, the driver could only be the agent the others referred to as Bo Cochran.
The guard speaking with Agent Cochran motioned for him to continue to the right, as the barrier began to slide open. As soon as the lead sedan moved through the open gateway, the guard motioned for the other sedan to follow. Both automobiles turned onto a deserted dirt road located a short distance away.
“Don’t you get it, Jackie?” Jeremy continued. “I mean, for one thing, they don’t seem too worried about what we can see. Granted, it’s nighttime. Nevertheless, you and I know a lot more about the place we were taken to now than when we first got here. Right?”
Jack nodded. Both were blindfolded when they left Alabama two days before. ‘Standard protocol’ was the phrase Agent Casey used then as well.
“How do you think I got these ‘beauty marks’?” asked Jeremy, tilting his face toward Jack so he could get a closer look at the matching pair of welts under his eyes and his split upper lip. “I bet they figured I was free for the taking once you started talking, roughly four hours ago by my estimation. And here’s the kicker, little brother. You can bet every penny your worth that there’s a pair of bullets nearby with yours and m
y names on them.”
Jack stared at Jeremy in horror. He’d expected a pleasant ride, either to the airport in D.C., or down to Richmond with Agent McNamee. His mind filled with eager anticipation at the mere thought of being allowed to review the books in Peter’s possession. To be so cruelly duped by the agent seemed incomprehensible. He slumped in silence while Jeremy mumbled to himself.
The car started shaking as both sedans pulled onto another road. This one deeply rutted, the group traveled a few minutes like this in the country darkness until both vehicles came to an abrupt halt.
A cloud of dust splashed up against the cars’ windows. When it cleared, Jack could see the lead sedan in the headlight’s beams. Cochran and Casey had stepped out of their vehicle and were on the way over to them. Cochran carried a semi-automatic pistol equipped with a long silencer.
“Well, I guess this is the end of the line for you boys,” Reynolds advised, unlatching his seat belt. He drew a 9mm pistol from his jacket and released the safety. Iverson did the same thing, sending an icy shiver down Jack’s spine as he studied him. The man liked to hurt people, perhaps already planning an especially cruel demise for him and Jeremy.
Jack straightened up and looked over at his brother again. For the first time in years he sensed fear building within Jeremy. But, he still held out hope that Peter would resolve this if only he could speak with him.
“Before you do something you’re sure to regret, please let me talk to Peter!” he pleaded with Reynolds, looking past Iverson’s smirk.
The senior agent chuckled and glanced at his partner.
“What do you think, Steve? Should we take him over to Peter and see if he’d be willing to listen to him?”
“I don’t know that Pete would care to, actually,” Iverson replied, as if feigning an air of seriousness. “Especially after all the trouble this asshole caused him.”
Cochran tapped his silencer’s tip against the driver’s side window, letting Reynolds know he and Casey were ready for them.
“Ah, hell, why don’t we take these boys to see good ole Pete—we’re coming, Bo!” said Reynolds. He and Iverson stepped out of the sedan, slamming their doors in unison.
“This may be it, Jackie,” Jeremy sighed. “I seriously doubt they’re going to wait on what your buddy has to say.”
He looked over at his younger brother, a mixture of sadness and compassion in his eyes.
“I’m not holding anything against you. This shit was bound to happen sooner or later.”
The rear passenger doors swung open. Jack bit his bottom lip to keep from crying.
“I love you, Jeremy,” he said.
“I know,” said Jeremy. “‘Same to you, bro.”
Before they could say anything else, they were yanked from the car. The immediate area around the sedan grew very dark once the vehicle’s dome light dimmed and Reynolds turned off the headlights with his remote access key. The only illumination at this point came from a flashlight held by Casey.
“Bo and Ben...these boys want to have a word with Peter before we bid them ‘adieu’. It shouldn’t take long, I imagine,” said Reynolds. “Why don’t you bring that light over here for a moment, Ben.”
The agents prodded the brothers toward the rear of the car. Reynolds directed Casey to point the beam from his flashlight just above the trunk, slightly ajar. He raised the trunk’s lid slowly, his grin malicious.
Once the trunk was fully exposed, all Jack and Jeremy could do was stare in horror at its contents. Sprawled before them, amid a tire jack, shovel, and three twenty-pound bags of lime, lay the stiffening corpse of Peter McNamee. His face frozen in a silent scream, a small river of blood had already congealed just below the bullet wound in his left eye socket.
Jack gazed helplessly at the dead body, the last hope he and Jeremy had of escaping their present predicament alive. It seemed that Peter died without a struggle, for his designer suit, shirt, and tie were unruffled, almost as neat and pressed as when he first arrived that evening. His favored ball point pen was still clipped to his left breast pocket.
No more click-click, clicky-click…
“Go ahead, Jack, ask away!” encouraged Reynolds. “Ask to your heart’s content, but don’t take too long. Save a moment for your last words to your creator.”
“We’re so fucked!” Jeremy whispered, unable to remove his eyes from the open trunk.
Casey moved up closer, when suddenly the light flickered out. Everything cast into thick darkness, none of the men could see one another. An instant later, the flashlight flickered back on, its beam returned to full strength.
“I thought you said that goddamned thing was brand new, Ben!” scolded Reynolds, visibly irritated by what just happened.
“It is, Frank,” Casey replied, shrinking a little from his boss’s rebuke. “Maybe it’s a lemon.”
“Well, shit! That changes our plans a little.” Reynolds reached into the trunk to pull out the shovel and one of the bags of lime. “It may take us longer to take care of our business here this evening, but I’m going to make sure there are absolutely no fuck-ups with this. That means we’ll dispose of these boys one at a time. Is everyone with me so far?”
All agreed they were.
“Good. We’ll start with Jeremy,” he said. “Bo, grab Jack and throw him into the trunk for now. Then, you and Steve grab Jeremy and take him to the site.”
Bo Cochran was an enormous man with incredible strength. He moved over to Jack and effortlessly lifted him off the ground, stuffing him inside the trunk next to Peter’s body. Jack wondered why they just didn’t let this behemoth twist his and Jeremy’s heads off their shoulders and be on their merry way.
“Go ahead and close the trunk, Bo,” Reynolds instructed. “Ben, we’re going to leave you here just in case anybody stumbles upon us out here....”
The rest of the agent’s words were reduced to a muffle as the trunk’s lid suddenly slammed shut on Jack.
***
Almost immediate, the buildup of heat and lingering exhaust fumes engulfed him, along with the familiar scent of Peter McNamee’s expensive cologne. Amid the tire jack and remaining bags of lime, the pair lay side by side. One sweated profusely from terror and the trunk’s cramped oppressiveness, while the other lay rigid from the mortification process that began shortly after the bullet shredded Peter’s brain.
Jack soon discerned an acrid smell among the other noxious odors permeating the trunk. He grimaced at the thought Peter should’ve relieved himself one last time of the many cups of coffee he consumed during their interview. Since he couldn’t move away from the agent’s leaking corpse, it made the experience much worse.
He tried to distract himself by listening for noises outside the sedan. Suddenly, he heard the faint sound of gunfire. This was followed by two more evenly spaced shots, and then finally, one last report came to him. Empty stillness enveloped the car.
Jack squeezed his eyes shut as burning tears of sorrow and fear welled and trickled down his cheeks. He also felt an odd sense of pride that Jeremy didn’t go down easy since so many shots. The unnerving silence lasted only a few minutes, but seemed like an eternity. At one point, he thought he heard Ben Casey call out to his comrades. Then, all grew quiet again. The wait for whatever would come next grew unbearable.
A slight glow seeped through the rear taillight reflector nearest his head. Casey shouted something indiscernible just before a heavy object landed on the ground next to the sedan’s rear. A moment later, a key jiggled inside the trunk’s latch and the lid flew open, allowing a rush of fresh air and near-blinding light to fall on Jack’s face.
“Let’s get the hell out of here, Jackie!”
Jeremy??
Though Jack couldn’t see him yet, his brother reached into the trunk and pulled him out. As he did, he lowered the flashlight enough for Jack to see him clearly. His handcuffs were gone and he now held the pistol with the silencer in his left hand.
“Stand up and turn around!”
Jeremy quickly removed his handcuffs, tossing them and the keys into a nearby bush. Jack noticed his brother’s shirt soaked with blood, the wetness glistening grotesquely in the flashlight’s glow.
“What happened? Are you all right??”
“I’m fine, but there’s no time to discuss anything right now,” he replied. “Do you need any shit from in here?”
He motioned to the open trunk, shifting the flashlight’s beam to Peter’s lifeless body. Jack immediately thought of the agent’s duffel bag and attaché case, probing with his hands around the corpse. Jeremy only allowed him a moment before nudging him on the shoulder.
“Whatever you’re looking for, you need to forget about it,” he advised. “Serious, Jackie, we need to get the hell out of here!”
The bag and case not in the trunk, Jack soon confirmed they weren’t anywhere else inside the sedan either. He moved back to the rear just as Jeremy closed the trunk. That’s when he noticed Casey’s body lying face up on the ground.
“We’re taking the other car,” Jeremy advised, moving quickly to the other sedan parked a short distance away. The flashlight’s beam lingered long enough on the latest deceased agent to reveal several dark streams trickling down the side of his face.
“Did you do that?”
In shock, Jack pointed back at the lifeless form soon engulfed by darkness.
“Yep.” said Jeremy, as he reached the other car. “Now, get your ass over here before anyone else decides to join our little ‘going away’ party.”
He moved to the driver’s side while motioning for Jack to get ready to enter the passenger side of the vehicle.
“Are the others dead, too?” asked Jack.
Jeremy nodded ‘yes’, but then pressed the silencer’s tip to his lips.
“You’ll have to hold your questions for now, man,” he whispered. “At least until we don’t need this set of wheels any longer. Get in!”
