Fallen Angels - Book 1: Welcome To Munich

by Gregory Austin McConnell

  Mrs. Fredericks' office was your classic school-teacher-of-terror workroom. It reminded Harmony of the Principal's office that she sat in with her mother and father in the first grade when she had gotten in trouble for kissing a boy she had liked on the playground during recess. It had that distinct feel of 'curriculum'. It let off the type of aura that the only people who ever went inside had come back out with no happiness left in their souls.

  Harmony knocked on the door quietly. “Come in,” said a voice from inside. She slowly opened the door and

  stepped in. Mrs. Fredericks was sitting behind her very large desk, writing on a legal pad and looking through several books. She wore a set of thin, half-moon glasses, and was donning a striking color of cherry red lipstick. Her appearance was almost comical, and had Harmony's anticipation not been so dire, she might have laughed.

  “I was told you wanted to see me, Mrs. Fredericks?”

  “Yes, Harmony. Please have a seat,”

  she replied, gesturing to the seat facing

  her.

  Harmony entered the room fully and

  sat quietly at the opposite side of the

  desk, trying to look as comfortable and as

  natural as possible. Mrs. Fredericks continued to write on her legal pad for a few moments, and then finally moved it aside. She slowly leaned back in her chair and placed her pen inside of her desk. Harmony swallowed.

  “The police station phoned here a while ago, and told me what happened,” Mrs. Fredericks finally spoke.

  It was as Harmony feared. She had been a fool to think that the police department would remain completely silent about what had happened.

  “It – it was nothing,” said Harmony. “I would have mentioned it, but everything had already gotten worked out. I figured it didn't really matter that much.”

  Mrs. Fredericks looked passed Harmony to examine the wall with a completely blank stare.

  “Well, it doesn't... and yet, it does.” Harmony blinked at her, confused. “I'm not quite sure I know what you mean, Mrs. Fredericks.”

  Mrs. Fredericks focused her eyes back on Harmony, giving her that classic stare she was known for, like she could see through any lie that you threw her way. “Harmony,” she said. “You're currently enrolled in college, trying to get into the medical field, correct?”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Harmony nodded. Mrs. Fredericks immediately kept talking. “And yet, you are currently employed not only here, but also at a restaurant on

  Third Street as well?”

  “...Yes ma'am.” Harmony's heart sank.

  She had worked so hard to make sure she

  kept her second job under wraps, and yet

  Mrs. Fredericks still managed to find out

  about it.

  “I see. And, in what class that you're

  enrolled in did they teach you that you'd

  be able to manage two full time jobs, and

  a full time college career?” Fredericks'

  voice was harsher this time.

  Harmony put her best face on.

  “I – I'm only doing it all for just a little

  while longer. I'm just trying to get some

  extra money to help support my family!” Mrs. Fredericks folded her arms and

  shook her head in a manner that showed

  she wasn't buying it.

  “Harmony, I know your mother, and

  your father, and I know for a fact that

  their lives are not dependent on your current income. So, I'll ask you again, why

  choose to juggle so many different responsibilities?”

  Harmony looked down at her lap. She

  couldn't keep eye contact without stumbling over her words.

  “...I'm trying to get enough money to

  get an apartment.”

  Mrs. Fredericks continued her hard

  look, still not satisfied with Harmony's

  answer.

  “Harmony, it's far from my position to

  know what you need to work so hard for,

  but it is unfortunately affecting your performance here, and I'm sure at the

  restaurant and your school work as well.” Harmony looked up and locked eyes

  with her.

  “Something has to give,” Mrs. Fredericks stated. “And unfortunately, it's going

  to have to be this job.”

  Harmony looked away, trying to control her emotions.

  “Am...Am I fired?”

  Mrs. Fredericks leaned forward in her

  chair.

  “I'm putting it on record that you gave

  me your two week's notice.”

  Harmony held back her tears.

  “I understand.”

  Mrs. Fredericks unfolded her arms

  and beckoned towards her.

  “Harmony, you're a wonderful young

  woman with a bright future, and I'm not

  going to let you jeopardize it by overloading yourself with too many things! Do yourself a favor: come back to work when you've got a little more room on your plate, and we can try and work something

  out.”

  Harmony nodded.

  “You can pick up your check at the

  front office,” Mrs. Fredericks said, returning her attention to her desk.

  Harmony slowly got up from the chair

  and headed towards the door.

  “Harmony...?” Mrs. Fredericks called. “Yes?”

  Mrs. Fredericks lower her glasses and

  looked at Harmony with a stare that was

  difficult to read.

  “Tell your parents I said, ‘hi’.”

  Pedaling as fast as she could towards the police station, Harmony had finally managed to pull herself together. Between her mass amount of school work, being attacked, and losing her job, she wasn't quite sure how much more she could take. She needed good news, and she hoped that she'd be able to get some when she arrived at her destination.

  She needed to find out what had happened to him.

  Despite her cries against it, they had thrown him into the back of the police cruiser and sent him to the station like a common criminal.

  Harmony hoped that the police had finally sorted things out after she had given them her statement. She had assured them that he was her rescuer, and Harmony wondered if they had released him yet.

  Who was he? Judging from the limited time she had been with him, Harmony figured he was about the same age as her. She hadn't seen him in class, and she certainly hadn't seen him around town beforehand. Did he live somewhere else? Maybe he had family in Munich that he was visiting on vacation.

  Whatever the case, Harmony needed to know who he was. She needed to thank him. She needed to ask him the question that had been running around her head all morning: why?

  Why had he saved her? Why risk his own life? Why had he been so brave?

  Harmony cautiously walked into the Munich Police Station and looked around. Several people were at work typing on computers and filling out reports. She scanned the station, and crossed into the main work room. He had to be here somewhere.

  Finally, she spotted him. Leaning against his desk with his arms crossed, talking on the phone, was Detective Dan Palmer. He had been the one to debrief her yesterday. He had been very kind, and promised that he would make sure everything turned out alright. Harmony had asked him to keep the attack to the confines of the station, and he had agreed, but Harmony now wondered if he had broken his promise and called the day care on purpose.

  She walked up behind him as he spoke into the phone and tapped his foot at the same time.

  “...Yes, I understand you're having problems securing the permit, but the law requires you to have one by next month, or you can't legally own it...”

  “Detective Palmer?” she asked. He spun around and looked at Harmony. He smiled, held up his finger, and continued speaking to the other person on the line.

  “Yes, you need to contact the man ufacturer
then, and find out what they can do about it. ...Alright. Have a good day.”

  He hung up the phone and looked over at her while checking off a name on a list.

  “Yes?”

  Harmony straightened herself.

  “I'm Harmony Wallace, from yesterday?”

  “Yes, of course. How ca n I help you, Ms. Wallace?” he said, turning his attention fully to her. His voice was very calm and well mannered.

  “Well, um... actually, I was wondering how the guy that saved me was doing.”

  Harmony looked at Palmer with keen interest. His answer to the question would decide how the rest of her day would be. Palmer took a breath, which signaled to Harmony the news wasn't going to be good.

  “Wade? Well... Wade was on probation for a previous offense, and he wasn't allowed to leave his state… so, he's been arrested, and he's being sent back.”

  Harmony looked at him, confused.

  “Arrested? But, he helped ”

  “I know how it sounds,” he interrupted. “And, believe me, I don't like it any more than you do, but it's how the law works. He might have been a hero yesterday, but he's still a criminal according to the rules.”

  He was a criminal? Harmony had spent the whole night thinking he was innocent, and it turned out that he was on the run from the law? She didn't believe it. He had saved her. There was no possible way he could be grouped in with the same lowlife that had tried to hurt her. There must have been a mistake. Even if he did have a criminal record, he helped her. He should have been cleared of all charges.

  “That doesn't seem fair!” Harmony charged.

  Palmer nodded, adding, “I feel exactly the same way, Ms. Wallace.”

  Harmony took a step toward him.

  “Well, there must be something that you can do!”

  Palmer looked off to the side for a moment as if in deep thought.

  “I'm afraid there really isn't... and, it's quite a shame,” he finally spoke.

  Harmony didn't buy it. Palmer had been the one to arrest Wade, and now there suddenly was nothing that he could do to help him? What good was the law if it was constantly putting people like Wade in prison? Harmony didn't know what he was guilty of, or what he had been running from, but she was certain of one thing: a person who would risk their life to help save another didn't belong behind bars.

  She looked around the station, as if trying to find some form of support. She had to do something. Wade had helped to save her, and she needed to return the favor. She had to ask him. She had to see him.

  “Where is he now?” she asked.

  Palmer motioned towards a hallway off to the side of the station.

  “He's in holding.”

  “How long is he staying there?”

  Palmer checked a folder that he already had open on his desk.

  “He's going to be transferred in a few hours,” he responded, checking his watch, adding, “I'm sorry.”

  Palmer turned back to his desk and picked up the phone, going back to work. Harmony turned to leave. It couldn't be over. There had to be something she could do.

  She turned back around to Palmer, who was dialing on the phone.

  “Could I talk to him?” she finally asked.

  Palmer looked up from his desk. “... I'm sorry?” he responded questioningly.

  Harmony looked down at her shoes, saying, “It's just... I never even got a chance to say thank you.”

  She sensed Palmer's hesitation, adding, “It would only be for a moment, I just... I would feel bad if I didn't tell him how much I appreciated what he did for me. Please?”

  Palmer opened his mouth, and looked around the office quietly, contemplating. Harmony continued to stare at him as seriously as possible.

  “...Alright,” he finally said, caving in. He stepped away from his desk, pulled out a key from his pocket, and nodded for her to follow him.

  Harmony walked along behind him, preparing herself as best she could.

  The buzzer to the questioning room sounded, and Harmony stepped in through the door. As it shut behind her, she saw him sitting, chained to the table in full prison fatigues. He looked completely exhausted. His hair was greasy and unkempt, and the bags underneath his eyes gave the impression that he hadn’t slept in some time. He blinked a few times as if waking up from a trance and looked at her, confused.

  Harmony took a few steps toward him and stopped.

  “This is…” she began, not seeming able to find any words. She looked down at herself and tried to act calm.

  “This is kind of weird for me. I’m sorry.”

  He stared at her intently.

  “I heard that…” Harmony stumbled over her words again. Why was she finding it so difficult to talk?

  “I heard that you were leaving, and I just wanted to say thank you for saving me.”

  She knew the words sounded empty from the moment they left her mouth. Here she was, apologizing and acting like everything was alright. They both knew it wasn’t.

  He stared at her a moment, and then nodded.

  “You’re welcome,” he returned.

  This was unfair, and Harmony knew it. She felt terrible. Why was she standing there, getting off scott-free, while the real hero was getting left to the sharks? What was she even doing here? Saying, ‘Thanks! See you in prison’? Harmony stared at her feet. Just get it over with. Let him know you’re thankful and move on. That’s all you can do.

  She took a step forward, extending her hand. A handshake might have been goofy, but it was the only thing she could think of to get the point across. He held up his hand as if to stop her, and the sound of his arms reaching the end of the chain filled the room.

  Right, Harmony thought. Hand cuffs. The shake could have been thought out better.

  Harmony withdrew her hand and he leaned back, letting out a soft laugh.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  “What for?” Harmony replied, confused.

  He stared at her for a moment, shook himself, and smiled.

  “…For coming by, and everything.”

  Harmony nodded.

  “No problem.”

  She heard the buzzer sound, and Harmony turned to leave. Was that really… it?

  She turned to look at him once more.

  “I’m Harmony, by the way!” she said quickly.

  “…Wade.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Wade.”

  “…Same,” he said roughly, nodding.

  After one more moment of looking at each other, Harmony walked out of the room and was led back to the main lobby by Detective Palmer.

  CHAPTER 13

  Wade sat chained to his seat in the prisoner transfer vehicle and stared out the window. As he looked out across the open fields, he couldn't help but yearn to be outside, walking through them and listening to the sounds of the countryside.

  You never quite appreciate your surroundings until you learn they're about to be taken away, Wade thought to himself as he leaned his forehead against the window. He had only been in Munich for a short time, but having it all taken away from him so suddenly felt cheap, and seemed cruel.

  Harmony.

  The name had been played through his head almost a million times, as had their conversation. Wade didn't know exactly what to think. He had spent over nine hundred days in prison, and hadn't received a single visitor, and yet, just a few hours after finding himself behind bars again, a girl he didn't even know had taken time out of her day to check up on him. She had been more a friend to him than anyone else.

  And most importantly, she thanked him. While the bullet was meant to be a catalyst for Wade receiving some amount of peace, being thanked had done that and more. He had made a difference in the world. He had changed something. The world was, for all intents and purposes, a small amount better because of his actions.

  Could he have found what he felt was missing? Could this have been what he was waiting for? Could he have found a reason to live? A motive to stay al
ive? Perhaps suicide hadn't been the answer that he was looking for, but just an easy way out. Did the answer really lie in such a small town?

  One thing was for sure: he didn't want to die, anymore. His mind was active again, and he knew he had managed to stumble upon something that could end up turning his entire life around.

  Palmer dried his hands off with a paper towel. He stared at his reflection in the men's room mirror of the police station trying to find an answer; the words of Harmony echoing throughout his consciousness.

  “...There must be something that you can do!”

  Was there? Palmer had thought about the question all afternoon. He couldn't stand to see a kid like Wade sent off to prison, even with his past record. Something about him just clicked with Palmer. It was as if Palmer saw a bit of himself in Wade. He understood where he was coming from. Palmer had looked over his file, and without question, he had seen and lived through an unbelievable amount of hardships. The kid had been through more than some people ever experience in their entire lives, and he wasn't even in his twenties.

  It might have been that Palmer had felt bad for him, or that he agreed with Wade about the unfairness that the law often allowed for, but for whatever reason, Palmer couldn't shake the feeling that he was still somehow able to help him.

  He had thought long and hard, and had finally come up with an idea. It was a one-in-a-million shot, but it would be better than doing nothing.

  Palmer had worked overseas with an agent who hailed from Boston. He had always talked to Palmer about retiring from foreign work and returning to America to head up field operations with the NYPD. Palmer hadn't spoken to him in a year and a half, and had no idea if the man's vision had ever come to reality, but it was worth a shot. He didn't have his phone number, but Palmer figured if he spent enough time on the phone with his old coworkers from the Bureau, he'd be able to track the man down.

  Was it guilt that was fueling him? The fact that he had been the one to arrest Wade? To discover the kid's warrant, and place him in custody? If he hadn't run the routine background check, Wade could have gone on his way and no one would have been the wiser. He would still have a shot at the 'new chance' he had been wanting. Could the cause of all of Palmer's stress simply be that he had taken

  Wade's chance away?