by David Beers
Chapter 17
Rebecca McStein looked at Christian and Tommy as if they were bugs to be squashed. Not bugs to be feared, but insects that were an annoyance rather than those that could actually harm anyone. You simply stepped on them, then swept them up for disposal.
“Ma’am,” Christian tried again, “We would really like to speak to your son. Have you had any contact with him lately?”
The woman didn’t shake or nod her head. She only stared, as though she hadn’t heard the question.
This had been going on for the past few minutes. Christian looked down at Tommy.
“She doesn’t seem like she wants to speak with us, does she?” Tommy said, his own eyes remaining on the bitch in front of them.
“Mrs. McStein, do you know how we could reach your son? Randy, or Charles, if that’s what you call him now.”
Christian didn’t think this was the first time law enforcement agents had arrived at her door asking questions about her offspring. No flicker of recognition or fear showed in her eyes at the mention of his two separate names. The woman was a rock.
“Your daughter, then,” Christian kept going, “is she still at 911 Rainbow Road?”
And, finally, he’d hit something. The corners of her eyes squeezed together slightly, and her otherwise placid lips tightened.
“Alicia, right?” Tommy asked. “That’s her name?”
“Don’t you bother my daughter with any of this,” the woman said, her first words since admitting her name.
“We don’t want to, Mrs. McStein, but you’re not being very helpful right now,” Tommy whispered. “We’re trying to discuss your son with you, but you’re staring at us like we’re speaking a different language.”
“Alicia hasn’t done anything wrong, so you just stay away from her.”
“May we come in, then?” Christian asked.
“You have a warrant?”
Christian said nothing.
“No, I didn’t think so,” the old lady said. “No, you can’t come in. Don’t come back either, not unless you have a warrant. And stay away from my daughter, you understand?”
Christian smiled, his lip turning into a sneer. “We’ll be heading over there in the next hour, Mrs. McStein. You have a great day.”
The woman stared for a second longer, fire nearly erupting from her irises. Christian and Tommy both matched her stare, until she finally shut the door in their faces.
“Well, if her son is half as much of a cunt as she is, it makes sense why he’d be working with Luke.” Tommy turned his wheelchair and started back down the walkway to the rental car.
Christian walked a bit faster to catch up. “Heading to see the daughter now?”
“We didn’t fly to Boston to leave empty handed.”
“Do you think we can get a warrant for her phone line? She’s probably going to call him right now.”
“You know the answer to that,” Tommy said. “No judge is giving us a warrant with the non-existent evidence in our possession.”
Christian knew he was right, only asking in hopes that Tommy might say something different.
Christian loaded Tommy into the van before pushing the wheelchair into the back. He then went around to the driver’s seat and climbed inside, starting the vehicle.
He put the daughter’s coordinates into the GPS and pulled out on the street.
A few minutes passed before Tommy said, “Did you notice something different about Veronica during the flight?”
“What do you mean?” Christian said.
“She seemed off, like something was bothering her.”
Something was, of course. That Christian had been given an ultimatum, to either kill her and the rest of his friends, or the attacks would continue. Christian only told her to not to tell Tommy. He hadn’t said a word about keeping her demeanor the same.
“No, I don’t think so,” Christian said. He didn’t like lying to Tommy, no more than he already had.
“Are you sure?”
Christian looked over to the passenger’s side. “Huh?”
“I just mean, did she say anything to you that I should know about? We’re all in this together right now, for better or worse, and if it’s something that might affect us, then I’d like to know.”
It affects you, Tommy, but I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you anything about it, because to do so would mean I couldn’t chase Luke anymore.
“Not that I know of,” he said.
Neither spoke again as they drove across town. Christian didn’t know what Tommy was thinking, and he didn’t like that at all. He and Tommy were usually in sync, but no longer.
He suspects. And why shouldn’t he? He knows you lied about what happened in the hotel room. Maybe he knows you’re lying about Veronica, too.
What did it matter, though? Whatever Tommy was thinking, it wouldn’t change Christian’s decision. Hell, the reason he told Veronica was so that she could pull the emergency lever and tell Tommy if need be. There were safeguards in place now, and so Tommy’s worrying—or distrust—was misplaced. Christian had taken care of it.
And, really, what could he do in a wheelchair? Christian hated thinking that, but it was reality. Tommy couldn’t exactly stand up and stop Christian. There would be no showdown on the street like at Hanson’s house. No choke hold that brought Christian to the ground.
“You didn’t used to think like this.”
His mother spoke from the backseat.
I didn’t use to have a circular scar on my cheek either, Mom, Christian thought.
Christian slowly brought the van to a stop. “Here we are.”
A car sat in the driveway, and being a Saturday, Christian was hopeful the woman was here. If not, they’d have to wait.
Christian stepped from the van and went to the opposite side. He’d parked on the street, so that Tommy’s side faced opposite the house. Neither spoke about it, but watching Christian move a crippled agent into his wheelchair wouldn’t exactly strike fear in the heart of the woman they came to see. This way, that part was hidden, and while it was something Christian didn’t like considering, it was necessary.
Once Tommy was situated, the two started up the driveway.
“Let’s hope she’s better than the mother,” Tommy whispered.
Christian smiled slightly but said nothing.
He rang the doorbell and the two waited.
No one came.
Another ring.
They finally heard steps moving inside, then the door opened. A relatively young woman stood in front of them. She was tall and thin, looking very different from the mother and the pictures they had seen of the brother. Christian thought the woman pretty, though her face looked worried.
Which was a good thing. Very different from the mother’s face.
“She told me you two were coming,” the woman said. “I’m Alicia.” She didn’t look at them as she spoke, but up at the sky above. “It looks like it’s going to rain. You two come on in and we can talk inside.” She stepped back, opening the door wider. “Do you need me to open the garage door? Would that be easier to get your wheelchair in?”
She spoke like someone who might have been on a meth binge for the past three days, each word rapidly firing out, trying to keep up with her mind. Christian didn’t think drugs were involved though; despite the woman’s sad face, she appeared healthy enough.
“No, ma’am,” Tommy said. “We should be able to manage. Thank you for inviting us in, though I feel we should introduce ourselves first.”
“No need. Mom already told me.” Her voice changed, mimicking that of an old witch. “The bastard in the wheelchair says he is Phillips, and the bastard standing up is Windsor. Don’t let them in.”
Christian’s eyes widened and he smiled. “Well, her memory is good, at least.”
“That might be the only thing good about her,” Alicia McStein said. “Come on in before it pours.”
It took an hour for Charles’s mother to reac
h him, having to call multiple people and wait on multiple call backs, but she had no choice. No one did, not when they were trying to reach the man formerly known as Randy McStein.
Charles knew his mother would always think of him by that name. His birth name.
“Randy, the police just left. They’re going to your sister’s now.”
“Alicia?”
“Do you have any other sisters that I’m not aware of?” his mother asked.
“Are they the police, Mom, or are they the FBI?”
“FBI.”
“You’re sure?”
“Do you think I’m a fool, Randy? How many years have I been answering doors to cops? I listen when they speak and then, somehow despite my ever increasing age, I remember what they say. These two were FBI.”
The old bat was definitely annoying, but if Charles loved anyone, it was his mother. He didn’t know it, but the feelings he held toward her somewhat resembled Christian’s relationship with his own mother.
“Thanks, Mom. What is Alicia going to tell them?”
“Who can tell? She might give them your address if she knows it.”
She didn’t, but his mother wasn’t too far off, either. Alicia didn’t exactly approve of her brother’s activities, or at least those she knew about. She probably would have turned him in without being asked if she’d known everything.
“Okay. I’ll take care of it.”
“You better. I’m tired of people showing up on my doorstep asking questions.”
Never mind that no one had showed up on her doorstep in over a decade. She wasn’t letting go of anything, ever.
“Okay, Mom. Talk to you later. Love you.”
Charles hung up the phone and looked out across the cabin.
The FBI had his name, clearly both his current and former one. They couldn’t get to him, that much was clear, so they were going after his family. His mother was solid, of course, but his sister? What would she say? Charles didn’t know. She hadn’t been in this position before, but if they started telling her what he was suspected of … Charles didn’t know what she might do.
The next operation was nearly ready to commence; Charles was prepared to call Titan and let him know … but now this had been placed in his lap.
He realized he’d forgotten to ask his mother something important. He picked the phone back up and dialed her number, his side encrypting the conversation before the phone began ringing.
“McStein residence,” his mother answered as if they were still in the fifties.
“Mom, it’s me. Do you remember their names? The FBI guys?”
“One was Windsor, the other was Phillips. Phillips was in a wheelchair. Windsor had a scar on his face.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
He hung up for the second time, recognizing the names at once. Titan’s old partners; one of them could end this whole business by killing a few people. And now, they were on to Charles. Getting closer, too.
He wasn’t too worried about them finding him immediately. Flying out of the country would certainly be tougher now, but not impossible. He had multiple identities he could use, but …
He didn’t like those fuckers putting pressure on his family. He didn’t want them showing up at his mother’s doorstep, as if she had anything to do with this.
And it’s you I’ll come for, he thought, the old saying rolling across his mind again.
So he would. And he wouldn’t tell Titan a word of it, either. In fact, that might be the way to go about this whole thing. Steal Titan’s victory by killing his partners, take his money, and then kill him when he realized it was all too late.
Charles started giggling.
God, this was too good to be true.
“Randy is … he’s different than anyone else I know,” Alicia McStein said.
“How so?” Tommy asked.
“The rest of the world. You and I, Special Agent Windsor—we all live by certain moral norms. My brother doesn’t. He never has. I don’t think he’s done all the horrible things that my mother claims he’s done, but I know that he hasn’t lived like a saint.”
“Your mother … she says he’s done horrible things?” Christian asked. “She seemed to be in his corner when we stopped by.”
“Oh, she is. She definitely is. That doesn’t mean she won’t bitch about him, though. If Mom does anything well, it’s bitch.” Alicia laughed without the least bit of self-consciousness.
“Well, Ms. McStein, we need to speak with your brother, and as quickly as possible. He’s not in any trouble yet, but we have reason to believe he’s involved in some pretty serious offenses.”
“Like?”
Tommy’s whisper had the feel of a small breeze moving through a cemetery. “The four FBI building attacks, as well as the one that was blown up last week.”
The smile on Alicia’s face died. She said nothing for a second, and then, “You’re not kidding, are you? You think he had something to do with that?”
“Yes, ma’am, we do,” Christian said.
Alicia sat forward and broke eye contact, looking across her living room. Christian knew from the dossier that she lived alone and had no kids. She kept the house clean and appeared to be someone who had her life in order, regardless what the rest of her family was like.
“Why do you think that? I’ve been watching the news. I know who you both are. The people on the broadcast don’t stop talking about you two, do you know that? You’re almost celebrities.” She laughed again, though without the previous humor.
“No, ma’am. We haven’t been watching a lot of television,” Tommy whispered.
“Why would he be involved in this?”
“Because Luke Titan hired him. We think Luke has been planning something like this for quite some time. To do this, though, he’s had to amass an arsenal, and that’s where your brother comes in. Do you know what his business is?”
“Not exactly.”
Christian took over, knowing Tommy’s voice might be growing weak. “He is a gun trafficker. He moves them across the country, and across the world. He stores them, sells them, but up until now, that was it. We believe Luke Titan enticed your brother to join him, and now we think given your brother’s connections, he’s in charge of executing Luke’s vision.” Christian recognized how he’d called Luke by his first name. He shouldn’t do that in front of other people—it personalized the man too much. Would make whoever they spoke with feel Christian and Tommy might be close to him.
“So, you can see, Ms. McStein, how important it is that we speak to him immediately. We could, of course, be mistaken, in which case your brother could help clarify that. If we’re not wrong, though, a lot more people may die if we can’t find him.”
She looked away again, shaking her head. Christian couldn’t tell if it was in disbelief, or if she was telling them she wouldn’t help.
Long moments of silence passed.
“I would help, if I could,” she said finally. “But I can’t. I haven’t spoken to Randy in years. We were never that close, like I said, he was a … different person. I know that he loves me the best he can, and I love him. Even so, I never liked being around him all that much. It just seemed like he was always trying to find an angle to work.” She looked up. “My mother, though. She still talks to him. I’m sure of it. She can get you in touch with him.”
“That doesn’t seem very likely, given our first meeting.”
Another humorless chuckle. “Probably right, but if anyone in our family can get you to Randy, it’s her. I’m sorry, I wish I could be of more help, but I really can’t. I imagine my mom’s already called him. He already knows you’re here.”
“You think so?” Tommy said.
She nodded. “My mom bitches, but she’s close to him. He’s her only son. If you guys came looking for him, then he knows it by now.”
By the time Christian and Tommy were leaving Alicia McStein’s house, Charles was already finalizing his plans.
The sarin gas woul
d still happen. That was necessary, in order to keep Titan satisfied for the next week or so. Charles was concerned with after the sarin gas, because that’s when things would get fun for him.
Two men were being dispatched; they would reach his mother’s house within five hours, though they weren’t looking for his mom. They were going to find the two FBI agents who were digging too deeply. Charles didn’t blame them—their organization was under attack, after all. However, consequence didn’t always follow blame. Sometimes consequence simply followed, regardless of whom was at fault.
The two men had instructions. To watch and follow. To ensure that Windsor and Phillips didn’t drop out of sight.
With that taken care of, Charles needed to give Titan a call and let him know the plans he was privy too. Charles had been careful when making his other arrangements. He had underestimated Titan when he reached for the gun inside the cabin, intent on killing him right then. He wouldn’t underestimate the man again.
The phone rang once and then that eerie, calm voice was on the line.
“Hello, Mr. Twaller.”
“Hey. We’re ready.”
“Good. Do you have a target?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. There are quite a few daycares across this great land of ours, but I think there’s a unique opportunity with one.”
“Which one is that?” Titan asked.
“D.C..”
Silence came over the line. It stretched on for so long, that Charles actually pulled the phone away from his face to see if it was still connected.
As he put it back to his ear, he heard the man on the other end begin laughing.
“Yes, Mr. Twaller,” he said through cold chuckles. “That’s perfect. Just perfect.”
Chapter 18
Christian lay in his bed, the lights off all around him. Veronica was asleep in the bed next to his, and had been for a few hours. Christian couldn’t sleep and imagined Tommy was dealing with the same problem. Waverly had dispersed teams of agents to watch Charles/Randy’s mother’s house and was working back channels to find a friendly judge who would issue a warrant. Now it was a waiting game, and so they came back to the hotel, ate dinner, then retreated to their rooms. He and Veronica had talked for a little while, but he thought what she knew was weighing heavily on her mind.
