by Gabi Moore
They began to walk down the concourse in the direction of the hobby shop. As they left their former location, a lone security guard watched them go and made a report to the main office with a radio.
Chapter 5
“Yes, I am aware of them… very good, keep the four of them in sight I want to know every move they make…”
Officer Karanzen, sitting at this desk, placed the receiver from his radio back down on his desk. His security guards were doing their job today. There were four this time, but that only meant it would be easier to keep them all in sight. He had faith in his boys, they were all good men and fiercely loyal to him. Sometimes they made the occasional mistake, but it wasn’t something he could avoid. So long as they did their job with diligence, he was pleased.
This Dion and his family… he was different. Not a year since the mall was open and already a wild card to which he needed to pay attention. He couldn’t believe the kid’s grandfather had been his commanding officer in Korea, one of the few people who knew what happened at the Chosin Reserve. It was unnerving because he thought the man was dead. Yet, there he had been, big as life and in his face.
“You know,” the man who sat across from him, said, “they are not pleased. Not one bit. They expected you would handle this kid on the first day. Now he’s back and with what he came to get on the first day. All he has to do is the same stunt the next three days and we’ll all be cooked.”
“I tried to tell you,” Karanzen told the man, “this kid has all kinds of connections. It might have been nice if you’d have told me about some of them in advance.”
“It was a need-to-know basis,” he informed the officer. “We thought you could deal with him without us getting involved. Now we see that isn’t going to happen. We are forced to take a direct approach from here on out. Do you think you can handle his friends at least?”
“I’ve kept this place free and guarded from anyone who tried to cross it. No one in the country has a loss prevention record better than mine. Isn’t that good enough?”
“Not for this mall,” the other man said firmly.
The man who sat across from Karanzen wore a tailored three-piece suit with matching cuff links. His tie was silk and shoes Italian leather. He smoked with a cigarette holder, although he waited until leaving the building to light it. His name was Matt and he was the liaison between the daily mall management and the tower. The clock tower was where the mall builders had their offices, but no one was allowed inside it other than Matt. Most people didn’t even know where the door into the tower was located. He did. It wasn’t a door in the traditional form, but they didn’t need to know about that.
“So what do you propose I do?” Karanzen asked. “I can’t just grab that kid out of the mall without some kind of reason. I have enough problems with parents who think their darling little baby boy can’t possibly boost TV’s. You even show them the photos taken from the security cameras and they swear it’s someone else. The only thing I can do to stop him would be to ban the little punk from the mall. I can put out a notice to the guards that he or his friends are not welcome in the mall. Oh, we’ll have to deal with his family, but better that than the FBI if he comes up missing.”
“Just stay out of the way,” Matt told him. “We have this covered. All you need to do is have your men stay clear and let our people do what they need to do.”
“Fine. Just keep me informed as to what’s happening on the tower’s end. I don’t want any of my boys to be hit with something they don’t know about. You have some cleaners or even postmen show up and do strange things, I want to know about it. No reason to get my people injured interfering with an operation from the tower.”
“Don’t worry,” Matt said as he got up from the chair, “we’ll let you know before anything goes down.”
Karanzen watched Matt leave the room. There wasn’t much he could do. The man represented the people who controlled the mall. He suspected they were listening in on every conversation in this place. And there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it.
Still, he didn’t trust the secret masters of this suburban temple. Too many unanswered questions about their real motives. Sure, he had a decent job as the guardian of this abyss, but it wouldn’t be hard for them to find someone else. There were plenty of people with his abilities out there, some less advanced than him, sure, but they would be grateful for the opportunity to have this position. Any one of his security guards might think they could handle it as well.
Sometimes he was ready just to leave. Let the masters of the mall have someone else take over this place. The constant balance between keeping the shoppers happy and finding the shoplifters was too much for any one man, no matter what their background.
He thought for a few minutes and then decided to take a walk with a few of the guards. They needed to be brought up to speed as to what was taking place in the mall. Not all of his boys needed to hear about it, just a select few. The fewer, the better. They could have a few drinks after their shift ended and he could give them a heads up as to what was taking place. But first, he needed to meet with them, and then he could decide what to do.
Karanzen was outside the mall.
It was another fine day with hardly a cloud in the sky, which was fine for him as he needed a secure place to talk to his men and didn’t need any interference from the mall owners. That little jerk, Matt, was not what he needed right now. He had to deal with the official representative for the mall every week when he came by for a conference. Up until now, it hadn’t been much of an issue: show the suit some graphs, let him know how things were proceeding and go from there. He wondered how Matt came by his job. Was he related to the mall builders and owners? Did he have some family connection to them? He wanted to know, but doubted there was an easy way to find out.
After Matt left, he reviewed the security tapes and watched Dion and his fine-feathered friends enter the mall. He had to switch tapes constantly into the player to find the right ones. They only had a few of the bulky cameras located in the mall and there were still places they didn’t cover. The official reason was the enormous cost of the audiovisual installation, but Karanzen speculated there were parts of the mall the owners didn’t want taped. The tape recorders were expensive and few malls had them, he understood this, but why did they cover only a few parts of the concourse in each section of the mall? Why was there only one camera to cover the parking lots and why was it conspicuously aimed away from the clock tower?
He didn’t like reviewing the tapes here. Karanzen suspected they were watching him inside his own office. Sure, he could never find evidence of a camera of any type, but it was just like the owners to have something hidden he couldn’t locate. Given who opened the mall, he didn’t think they would employ a physical camera to watch him. They had other ways to observe their charges in the mall.
He looked down at the ashtray, which was made of a fine carbonite stone, and reflected the light in mysterious ways. It had the name of the mall and management company carved into it. He’s seen these things all over the mall. Funny, the management banned smoking on the inside when the mall opened. He couldn’t recall too many places with this rule. Why did they have these fancy ashtrays in every office and secure room in the mall? If smoking wasn’t allowed, why did they insist everyone display them as a token of the management’s esteem? He’d picked one of the ashtrays up one afternoon and examined it when these thoughts had crossed his mind. It sent a tingle through his hand and almost caused him to loose physical form. The ashtray was tied in with the mall builders, he was certain and it was not just a little token thing. Furthermore, when they were first issued, every place where they were sent was informed they were never to leave the mall and to be displayed in a prominent place at all times. There was even a section on the security log to check where the “mall ashtrays” were seen. A clothing store manager tried to take one home one night to show her family and had a phone call the moment she arrived home. She was informed the ashtray was mall property an
d to be returned immediately. She drove all the way back and returned the ashtray to her store. The next day her corporation terminated her and never gave a reason, but he was certain it had to do with the ashtray.
Karanzen saw the two guards walk up to him as he stood on the edge of the parking lot with a clipboard in his hand. He didn’t know how far the eyes of the mall management went, but if they could see him in the lot, he had an excuse to be there with the clipboard. They needed to police the lot and he could always say the guards were with him to look over the sewer inlets and check on the electrical conduits.
He cursed himself for his subservience to the mall owners. They’d found him just before he was ready to cross over and made him the offer. Now he was in their thrall. Sure, he could do the nasty little pestilence tricks to transform himself into a cloud of insects, but what did it accomplish? It scared the stuffing out of most of the miscreants he caught who needed a little demonstration of his power, but it left him in a vulnerable state. He never bothered to show the security guards what he could do. It wouldn’t impress them anyway. They were good men who happened to be some trouble when he found him. They were intensely loyal because they knew working for him was the only way they would ever keep a job. He had plenty of information that could put every one of them away for years.
One of his first hires thought he could lift something and no one would notice. Karanzen called him down into his office the next day and showed him, lined up on his desk, five “diamond” necklaces of the same appearance and quality.
“I just thought you should know, Amon,” he told the man. “I know what you took yesterday. Don’t worry about bringing it back because we’ve already taken it out of your locker and returned it to the case. It had no value, just like the ones you see here. They don’t leave real ninety-carat bracelets out in the open as you thought they did. They don’t even lock the case, so you didn’t get lucky. But they do watch who from the mall staff walks around and does his rounds. I just wanted you to know, because if I ever catch you doing it again I will have to let some federal people know where they can find you.”
Karanzen never had another problem with the man.
It reminded him of the last panhandler he’d dealt with in his former position.
Karanzen had been a security guard outside a store in the Washington District in Scipio. The Washington District was an old entertainment division in the city. At one time, it was very fancy and held a lot of restaurants and theaters. But the business had moved elsewhere ten years previous and the city was desperate to renovate it and get some tax money generated. As it was, the district was a tax sinkhole and the only people found inside it after dark were single men shopping at the disreputable stores, which lined both sides of the streets. Fights were common when the bars closed and shootings happened on a regular basis.
An older restaurant got it into its mind to hire him as a parking lot attendant and security guard for the weekend. Business was dropping off because people didn’t like to be hassled by the street people who lined the block every time the police car left to deal with another issue. As soon as the cops left, out would emerge the mentally ill and mendicants. The state hospital decided the year before to release many patients to group homes. Many had been patients for years. This was humane, but it meant many people were walking the streets that needed better care. Many people who babbled at the air.
Karanzen’s job was to make sure they left the patrons alone. He’s just finished his latest stint with a security guard company and hated the low pay. This job didn’t pay much better, but at least he wasn’t stuck riding around from one rabbit-tripped alarm to the next. At one point, he thought about mowing the weeds around a bus under his watch because he was tired of the animals using it as cover. They slipped under the gate where they would inevitable set off an alarm. The company who employed him didn’t care because they made extra money each time the alarm was tripped. He cared because every time an alarm tripped he had to haul rubber across town and respond to it.
For his latest position, most of the time he didn’t have any trouble. The street people would see him and scuttle away, to bother someone else for spare change. One look at his black uniform and silver badge was enough to send them in full retreat. Every now and then, one of the miscreants would stop at the edge of the block and yell. He didn’t care so long as they stayed away from his turf. After he’d ambushed one of them the first week he had the job, they stayed away.
This particular night he was on his way to work and was out of uniform. Karanzen would park in the back of the restaurant most of the time, but this evening he was forced to take a bus into work because he needed to get his car repaired. He had non-standard windbreaker jacket and pair of rumpled pants. His uniform he never wore outside of work and always kept it in the same locker room the cooks used.
He was on his way down the street to the restaurant, ready to start his shift when a familiar tone rang behind him. “Excuse me, sir,” the voice said, “I wonder if you could help me.”
Karanzen turned around to face a slovenly dressed white youth with a silver pendant dangling from his neck. The man appeared to be twenty years of age and was in bad need of a shower. Karanzen felt his blood pressure begin to rise. He’d seen this punk on the roam outside his place of work. The kid stayed far enough away from the parking, so he had no idea how Karanzen appeared up close. This was the reason for a very bad mistake he’d just made.
“I need fifty cents,” the man said to Karanzen.
“What do you need it for?”
“A pizza. I’m hungry and need to buy a slice of pizza.”
“Really?” Karanzen snapped back at him. “I’ll go buy you one. I don’t start work for another half hour. Come on; let’s go get you something to eat.”
The young man’s face changed instantly. “Uh, no, that’s alright, I’ll be moving along.”
Karanzen could tell the panhandler’s eye had spotted another mark and he was about to move on. The young man tried to move away from him, but as he did, he felt a vice tighten around his shoulder. As he winced in pain, he turned around and saw a hand clamped on him.
“Where you going? I thought you were hungry and wanted something to eat. Are you going to turn down my hospitality?”
“Please,” the mendicant said, “I need to go. Please, I didn’t want to start anything…”
Karanzen saw his opportunity. There was an alley between the nearest two buildings and it was still too dark for anyone to see what was about to happen. As the young man struggled, he pulled him to the passageway between the two buildings.
Karanzen slammed him up against the wall and starred right into his eyes. “You know what, sonny boy?” he snarled at him. “I think you have been driving business away from my boss because you don’t like to work. I think you have some serious issues which need addressed.”
“Please,” he cried out, “just let me go.” The young man didn’t think the man who held him to the wall could see his hand slip down to his pants’ pocket, but he was wrong.
The knife hit the ground as Karanzen used his other hand to smack it out of the street person’s hand.
“Not smart, punk. You lied to me about being hungry didn’t you? Now why don’t you look into my eyes and tell me the truth?”
He looked into Karanzen’s eyes and watched the pupils disappear. They were replaced by the image of something that had no form a sane mind could comprehend.
No one was close enough to the alley to hear the screaming, which lasted for a good two minutes. When it ended, Karanzen continued on his way to the restaurant and his shift, a big smile on his face. The day had turned out decent after all.
Three days later the state hospital took in a new patient they’d never seen before. The police brought him in and let the orderlies strap him down as the young man was found walking down the street while crying at shadows in the air. He claimed the ground was full of tiny creatures who were laughing at him. It took a long time for
the duty physician to get his hysterics under control. It was another three months before they located his wealthy family in New York and told them their wayward son was located in Scipio, Ohio.
A few minutes later, two of his boys, Lab and Woody, were with him walking around the outside of the mall. To everyone coming inside the mall, they appeared to be on their rounds, in the performance of some job crucial to the security of it. One or two people stopped and asked them if everything was all right, Karanzen assured them he was in the process of checking out some electronics in the lot. It satisfied them and he continued on his tour with the two men.
“The mall owner is not happy about what happened yesterday,” he repeated to them from the message from Matt. “We need to do better if all of us want to continue working here. I happen to like my job and I don’t need to worry about making the people in the tower mad.”
“I don’t know what else we can do, Boss, “Woody said to him. “We did everything we were supposed to do yesterday. No one was hurt and you had those kids in your office for a while. I thought everything was fine.”
“They’ve got it in for those two. I don’t know why, but they don’t want me to ban that kid Dion or any of his little friends from the mall. They seem to think they can handle the situation better than I can. Fine. We’ll be on standby until they want us. In the meantime, continue to watch them and look out for anything funny. Keep in mind there are four of them today.”
“Funny like those cheerleaders who just disappeared?” Lab asked him. “They just popped away when that Dion kid faced off to them. The weird thing was that no one seemed to act as if anything strange happened. The audience walked away as if they’d never been there.”
“Keep a record of those kinds of incidents,” Karanzen said to them. “I want to know about them. The management may be playing with fire and I don’t want to get burned.”
“What do you think they might be up to?” Woody asked. He tended to be the suspicious one. Years of clandestine missions in the jungles of South East Asia had taught him not to ask too many questions. It also made him suspicious of the motives of anyone who gave an order.
