by Jonas Saul
At first it was small stuff. Hacking Facebook accounts, screwing with the few friends he had. Then it got more serious when he hacked his mother’s bank account and transferred large sums of money to his own personal account. Before her death, she had no idea what he’d been up to. Hacking the account, transferring money, was something of his forte now. That was how he paid contractors like that ex-Navy Seal guy, Ansgar Holm.
Ben had always been money-centered. Even in high school, a few of his quirky friends got together with him and started a group called S.I.S.T., which stood for Students Invested Stocks Traded. The acronym sounded like the word cyst which was exactly what they were going for.
He had loved acronyms as far back as he could remember and used them as often as possible. Like his online moniker PAIN. It was much easier to approach the subjects who had to do things for him with a PAIN PACT than it was to say the Passive Aggressive Internet Nomad wants to enter into a Performance, Action, Commitment Transaction with you. People responded better to PAIN PACT.
He brought up the local news on the smaller screen to the left and browsed what the Toronto Sun newspaper was saying about the terrorist bombing of the martial arts dojo in Toronto. It took him a second to find anything on it as the police response at a nearby hotel was taking all the coverage. Fire department had been called out to the hotel, but it was a false alarm.
He checked the name of the hotel. It was the same one Ansgar was keeping Clara in.
“Shit wave,” he whispered.
His fingers danced over the keyboard as he checked several websites for more information. Contacting Ansgar directly would be a mistake if the authorities had his phone.
When he couldn’t learn anything new, he tried to hack into the hotel’s computers but was stopped. Then he tried the cameras on the street but saw only police cars in front the hotel.
He had to reach out. He had to see if Ansgar still had Clara. If they got arrested, that would put him in an awkward position. The last message Ansgar had sent to him was a picture of Clara bound and gagged on the hotel room floor.
Ben typed, Are you still secure?
Then he waited.
One minute passed. Then another. With each passing second, his stomach got heavier and he started to feel that maybe he’d had too many Mars bars.
An image popped up to signify Ansgar was typing.
Ben released pent-up air and leaned forward, waiting to see what Ansgar said, his hands held in small fists.
Secure. Waiting for further instructions.
Ben typed back. What about heavy presence at the hotel?
Pranksters. Nothing to do with us.
Ben lowered his head and breathed through his mouth for a moment. When he looked up, Ansgar had typed another message.
Too risky to stay here. Moving her. Will contact with new location soon.
“What?” Ben said out loud. “That’s not the deal.”
He typed furiously.
Stay put if the authorities are not there for you.
He waited. Five maddening minutes later came the reply.
You’re not calling the shots anymore.
Ben froze in his chair. After a moment, he wheeled it back and got to his feet, his legs shaking with adrenaline. The pain in his back minimal today.
“What has happened?” he said. “Shit wave, this isn’t right. No one ever talks to me like that. Never.”
He jumped back onto his chair and typed quickly, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. When he was done with Ansgar, the man wouldn’t know what hit him. Ben Wilson was basically off the map. He could do anything he wanted to people like Ansgar Holm without fear of retribution. Ansgar could never find him. No one could.
When he was done typing, he reread the message.
Then he hit send.
Ansgar would think twice before defying the man who controlled the fate of other men from behind a desk. They would all die for him, for his legacy game. Then he would have his retribution. After what the NC3 Director Anton Olafson did to him, he too would pay the ultimate price.
And with what Ansgar was trying to do, he too would pay.
In the end, Ben Wilson was a god simply collecting debts.
Debts owed the Devil.
Chapter 19
Sarah sat on the edge of the hotel bed holding Clara’s hand to comfort her. Clara leaned her back against the wall, her body scrunched up as if she was trying to stay as far away from the four men in the room as possible. Aaron paced the floor by the window. Alex sat in the chair tapping at Ansgar’s cell phone. Daniel and Benjamin stood on either side of the hotel room door taking turns looking out the peephole.
Sarah tapped the top of Clara’s hand.
“I assure you, everything’s okay now,” Sarah said in a soft tone. “No one will get to you. Soon, this will all be over and you’ll be able to go back to Denmark.”
Clara gave her a short, jerking nod of her head. The girl was frightened and it didn’t help that Sarah sat before her covered in Ansgar’s blood and in a red-wine stained shirt. She had to change her clothes as soon as she could. Leaving the hotel was out of the question looking like this.
The time on the bedside alarm clock warned her that she had just over three hours until her flight to Copenhagen began boarding. That left one hour in the room before she had to get to the airport to clear security.
Aaron stopped pacing. He looked like he was thinking about something.
“We can’t stay here,” Aaron said.
“Agreed,” Sarah added.
“Can you tell me what’s happening?” Clara asked loud enough for Sarah to hear. “Who are you people?”
Clara spoke English with an accent. Not a harsh one, but enough to sound Scandinavian.
Sarah smiled warmly and softened her eyes. “We’re your friends.” She adjusted herself on the bed to look directly at Clara. “Tell us more about yourself. Why are you in Canada? How did you end up in that room with that man?”
Clara glanced past Sarah to look at Aaron, then back at Sarah. “It was a mistake.”
“How so?”
“I was playing months ago on my computer. Bored. And I joined a website that I shouldn’t have.”
Sarah resisted the urge to look at Aaron, but heard him moving. After a moment he stopped moving, probably because he took a seat.
“What website, Clara?” Sarah kept her voice soft, gentle.
Clara’s cheeks darkened with color. She looked away from Sarah.
“Plenty of Fish,” she mumbled. “I met a guy. He was into everything I was. Even quoted Shakespeare. When he suggested we meet, I agreed. He paid for the whole trip to Canada.” Clara shrugged. “What was the worst? I got to see Canada for free.” She regained some of her composure and tilted her head to look at Sarah. “So I came a few days ago.”
Sarah pointed at the door. “I think the worst was what just happened.” She let go of Clara’s hand and got to her feet. “What can you tell us about the guy you met online? Do you have an address? Where were you supposed to meet?”
“We were to meet in this hotel. I was to take a room that he’d set up for me. He hired a driver to pick me up. When he knocked, the password was the name of the website, Plenty of Fish. When that man said the name, I thought he was the driver.” She wiped her right eye. “I’ve made a terrible mess of things.”
“It’s okay, Clara. You’re safe now. None of the men here will let anything happen to you.”
“What I don’t understand is why you’re here,” Clara said. “No one knew I was in Canada. I didn’t even tell my dad.”
Sarah and Aaron exchanged a glance, then Sarah stared at the window for a moment, thinking about how best to answer Clara.
“Thing are all connected,” Sarah said. “Sometimes, it’s just fate that we met up.”
“How do you mean fate?” Clara asked.
Sarah faced her. “You know that building that blew up in Toronto?”
Clara nodded.
“That was his.” Sarah pointed at Aaron. “These three guys are his teachers. They were supposed to die in that explosion. Someone wanted to murder them. We traced it to the man who had kidnapped you. And we came to make things right. Our plan didn’t work the way we wanted it to, but we got you out of there. Now we wait for a few days and see what comes next.”
“But how did you know he was here?” Clara asked.
“Aaron met him before he tried to blow the place up. A friend of ours did a little research and came up with an alias. We tracked that man to this hotel. Benjamin rented this room and waited for us to get here.” Sarah extended her arms, palms up. “And here we are.”
Clara seemed to like that explanation.
Sarah walked over to Aaron, then looked down at Alex. She eyed Daniel and Benjamin by the door. “Guys, I have little time. I need clothes. Then you need to leave this hotel. There’s one across the street. Or try one farther away. But you need to lay low until I get back from Denmark.”
“Denmark?” Clara said from behind her. “Why are you going there?”
Sarah put her hands on her hips when she looked back at Clara. “What is your father’s name?”
“Anton.”
“Do you have a brother?”
Clara shook her head. “No, and my mother died years ago.”
“Okay, I’m going to ask you a horrible question, but I need the truth. Are you okay with that?”
Clara nodded.
“Do you know anything about boys being molested?”
Clara didn’t look surprised by the question. She just blinked, seemed to think about it for a moment, then shook her head.
“I know nothing of that stuff, except what I’ve read in the news over the years.”
Most of what Vivian wrote in the time capsule was coming together. Oaf and his son was Olafson, Clara’s last name. Her father was Anton Olafson. Aaron’s death had been averted. They discovered The Clock was Ansgar Holm and he was holding the Danish girl, the blonde Danish girl. Vivian said, protect the Danish girl, and that was what they were going to do.
Sarah still had to figure out what Vivian meant when she said Pain was behind everything and how Vivian said that if they were to stop Pain, then everyone would live. Her sister had added that even then, boys would continue to be molested.
A thought hit her. “Clara? What city did you live in in Denmark?”
“Skanderborg.”
The name felt like a punch to the gut. That was exactly where Vivian had instructed Sarah to go. Skanderborg. What the hell was in Skanderborg that was so important? Could Pain be there? If the person behind all this lured Clara to Toronto, why did Sarah have to go to Denmark? Maybe he was luring her away from Skanderborg. Ansgar holding her here kept her away. Or maybe she was grabbing at straws.
Aaron touched her shoulder and gently turned her around. “You have to get ready. You’re running out of time.”
Sarah touched his hand, then rested her cheek on his shoulder.
“I know. But I don’t want to leave you. It wasn’t that long ago that I thought you were dead.”
“It’s Vivian. Look what she has done in the last twenty-four hours. There’s no way I’d be alive today if it wasn’t for her. I understand Vivian saw your death, too.”
Sarah lifted her head and stared into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I can’t do this. Why is Vivian not talking to me? Why is she talking to everyone else but me?”
“I don’t know. But you have to do what she says to stay alive. That’s what I’d go with.”
After a moment, Sarah nodded. “You’re right.”
“Who’s Vivian?” Clara asked.
“Aaron can tell you about Vivian after I leave.”
The phone in Alex’s hand buzzed. He looked down at it, then held it up for Sarah and Aaron to read it.
Are you still secure?
“How do we respond to that?” Aaron asked.
“That’s Ansgar’s boss,” Sarah said. “He’s the one behind all this. He may even be the guy we’re looking for.”
“What should I type back?” Alex asked.
Sarah stared at the ceiling for a moment. “Whoever it is might see something on the news about emergency services responding to this hotel. That might be the reason he’s asking if everything’s secure.”
“We need to locate this guy,” Aaron added.
“Agreed.” Sarah punched her open palm. “Antagonize him. Tell him we’re secure and waiting for further instructions. Maybe we’ll be able to set up a meeting.”
Alex typed. They waited for a response. The phone dinged.
“It says, ‘What about heavy presence at the hotel’?” Alex read.
Sarah stepped closer to Alex. “Type back. ‘Pranksters. Nothing to do with us.’”
Alex typed. They waited again. After a couple of seconds, Sarah moved closer to Alex’s chair again.
“Add this. ‘Too risky to stay here. Moving her. Will contact with new location soon.’”
Alex nodded and typed. The phone buzzed a response. He handed it to Sarah.
She read it out loud. “Stay put if the authorities are not there for you.”
Then she typed, You’re not calling the shots anymore, but hovered over the send button.
“Does this work, Aaron?” She showed him the message.
“If you’re riling him up, it works. But to what end?”
“We have to get him out from behind this number on a phone. In the meantime, when I leave for the airport, give this number and everything else you have to Darwin and Rosina. Let’s see if they can trace anything. You guys stay with Clara until this is over and stay in touch with me. As soon as I get to Skanderborg, I’ll find out what this is all about and then come home. Three, four days max. Cool?”
Aaron nodded. Then each martial arts teacher nodded as she turned to look at them.
She hit send on the last message.
“Why are you going to Skanderborg?” Clara asked. “Does it have anything to do with my father?”
“Not sure,” Sarah said as she handed the phone to Aaron. “I just know I have to.”
“But why?”
Sarah smiled. “Too long a story to explain right now. Aaron will fill you in while I’m away.”
“I’d like to go home. Maybe I can just come with you.”
Sarah shook her head. “I’m sorry. Until this is over, I need you to stay with these men. They’ll protect you. Think of them as bodyguards for now.”
Clara shrank back from Sarah as if she was trying to become part of the wall.
“So I’m still being held against my will, just without the restraints?”
Sarah frowned and moved closer to the bed. “No, you’re not. You’re being kept safe while someone named Pain is out to hurt you. That man, Ansgar Holm, is a military contractor hired to kidnap you. Staying with these guys,” she gestured toward the men, “keeps you safe. Sending you back out there makes you a target.”
Sarah couldn’t tell if what she was saying was getting through to Clara. It was obvious the girl just wanted it all to be over.
Internal conflict raged within Sarah. Vivian was gone. No longer directing her with information, answers. Since Vivian had always been there, an emptiness was left in her wake. The loneliness of not having her sister in her head and having to leave Aaron for the next few days ate at her heart, like a cold wet towel in her stomach.
“I don’t want to leave,” she said to Aaron. “It’s not right.”
He cocked his head sideways. “Come on, Sarah. You of all people know Vivian. You have to go. I accept that. Why can’t you?”
“You’re right, but I still don’t want to leave. Whether I have to or want to—there’s a big difference.”
“Who is Vivian?” Clara asked again.
“They’ll tell you after. I’m out of time.” Sarah moved toward the door. “Aaron, where can I get a change of clothes? I can’t go to the airport dressed like this.”
“You
can’t leave the hotel room dressed like that. What’s your size? I’ll go buy something and come back.”
“I’ve got clothes,” Clara said from the corner. “Take some of mine. We look like we’re about the same size.”
Sarah looked Clara up and down, then at Aaron. “She’s right. That’s perfect. Someone take Clara to her room. Get me clothes.”
