by Charlie Cole
I looked around for a way out. Max plus security guards plus my password not working equaled Max having a change of heart. A change of heart and maybe he’d just decide to take his frustrations out on me. There was a utility closet in the room where the cleaning staff kept a vacuum and supplies. I stepped into it and closed the door. For the second time that day I was reminded of the L.A. mission. I was hiding again and not feeling any better about it.
Max entered the room and beckoned the person behind him to come in. It was Ellis. He stepped inside and Max closed the door.
“What’s going on, Tom?” Max asked.
“The files are missing,” Ellis began, panicked. “The files are missing!”
“What files?” Max shot back.
“The DHS files,” Tom said. “I ran a search to enter the latest project notes and it’s gone.”
“What’s gone?” Max asked. “The project folder?”
“Everything relating to the work we’ve done for Homeland Security. The folder on the network drive is gone. The backups are gone. The hardcopies are gone!”
Ellis held out the green hanging file folder as if to prove that it was devoid of contents. There was no doubt. I could see through the crack in the door that Max was eyeing Ellis cautiously, unsure of how much to say.
“Have you talked to Simon about this?” Max asked.
“Simon’s not in his office.”
“Do you think he had anything to do with the files going missing?” Max asked.
What was he doing? I had just talked to him. He knew I didn’t take the files. In fact, I’d told him to secure his files… Unless…
“No, it wasn’t Simon,” Ellis replied. “I checked the logs. The last person to access those files was you.”
Max rocked back on his heels at this news. Max took the files off his own machines. Ellis had called him on it. Ellis could implicate Max in the missing files.
Max frowned. His brow furrowed. He looked up at Ellis as if over ancient spectacles, taking the weight of him. Then he walked to the door and gestured before stepping back. A moment later the guards appeared.
“Take Mr. Ellis into custody. Take him to the other offices. We’ll deal with him there.” Max said this in the same tone as if he had asked someone to call him a taxi.
Ellis’ jaw dropped. It had taken him a moment to process the words.
“Hey, what are you—?” He didn’t get a chance to finish.
The first guard grabbed Ellis by the arm, the other by the shoulder. They twisted and Ellis’ face hit the table like a slab of beef. I heard him groan, but couldn’t see his face. They were handcuffing him. Finally, one guard stood him upright and I could see Ellis’ face. It was a deep crimson, well on its way to purple as I was certain he’d be bruised in the morning.
Max held open the door and the guards led Ellis out and to the elevators. Max turned and walked back to his office. I thought then that I had a choice. I could go after Max who would probably tell me no more than before. Or I could go help Ellis. I saw it clearly. Enough people had suffered for me. I could stop this.
I stepped out of the closet and exited the conference room. I walked quickly in the direction of the elevators, careful not to run, fighting back the urge. The doors closed just before I got there. They’d be taking Ellis to the parking garage. I turned and shoved the door to the stairwell open. The place where Chris’ body had been only hours before was cleaned. No, not cleaned I realized… painted. Chris’ body was gone. I touched the wall and my hand came away with a slightly tacky feeling to it. Wet paint. Someone was trying to cover up what had happened here. Why? The pieces weren’t falling together yet but I knew they would in time.
I turned to run down the stairs when I heard a woman’s voice behind me. I turned, hoping it to be Jessica. The stairwell door opened, but it wasn’t Jessica looking for me. It was Christine.
“Um, hi,” I said. “Kind of in a hurry.”
“I know,” Christine replied. “Okay, I’m not very good at this. I told Ellis to get the DHS files. He was doing it because I told him to. He was trying to impress me by going to Max to find them. It’s my fault that Max had him arrested.”
“Wow,” I said.
“Yes, well, there’s more. I know who you are. I know about the car crash in Alexandria. I know about Blackthorn. Jessica told me.”
“She told you?” I asked.
“Girls talk. Shut up. Look, I know you’re trying to help Tom. It’s not his fault that he fell into this. But you’re officially persona non grata around here and your security card probably isn’t even going to get you out of the building. So... here…”
Christine handed me her security badge and numbly I took it.
“You won’t be able to get across the skywalk without it,” she said.
“Thank you,” I replied, my voice quiet. We’d never liked each other, but in times like this, that didn’t seem to matter.
“Well, go!” she said. She brushed her arms forward as if shooing away a stray dog. At least we were still on the same terms. I ran down the stairs, three at a time.
***
Once I made my way to the parking garage, it was no difficulty finding Ellis. He was still cuffed and sandwiched between the guards. When Ellis had been hit in the conference room, he had been dazed and gone along quietly while the pain rang in his head. In the garage, he was slowly rousing out of his fog. I had to stop him before he said anything to piss off the guards.
The way I saw it, I had two choices. One, I could use force. But for all I knew, the guards were just following orders and doing their jobs. Or I could use some finesse. I excelled at finesse. Even if it was just my style of finesse.
“Hey! I’ve been waiting fifteen minutes. Where the hell have you been?” I shouted.
The guards turned to look at me, then each other, then back to me.
“Come on! I’m supposed to take this clown across town to the other office. Let’s go!” I said. “I’m parked over here.”
The older of the two guards was getting his wits about him.
“You’re Simon Parks,” he said.
“Damn right,” I fired back.
“We’re supposed to bring you in to see Mr. Donovan,” the guard replied.
“I’ve already seen Mr. Donovan,” I replied dismissively. “How do you think I know that I’ve got to take Ellis across town?”
The guards looked at each other again, then back.
“Maybe I better call Mr. Donovan,” the other guard offered.
“Sure, great thinking,” I replied. “By the way, ask him to write you a letter of reference because he is going to fire your ass.”
“Fire—fire me? Why?” the guard asked.
“He’s going to fire both of you,” I said matter-of-factly. “Who do you suppose let this piece of shit walk out of the building with the company files?”
I kicked Ellis in the ass to accentuate my point. A grin had begun to creep onto his face up to this point and I needed him to play the role. The kick in the ass kept him playing it straight.
“Now we’ve got the fucking IRS breathing down our necks because of you two jerk-offs. So go ahead and call Mr. Donovan and see what he says…” I let my words hang for a moment. “Or I can take him off your hands and maybe put in a good word for you. Maybe you’ll even get to keep your jobs.”
They did their dance again, looking at each other, then me, then Ellis, then me again.
“Okay, Mr. Parks,” the guard said. “Thank you. Do you need a hand—?”
“I’ve got enough hands as it is, pal. Hit the fucking bricks.”
And with that I walked away with Tom Ellis in my care. When we were out of sight, I retrieved my keys from my pocket. I had taken to keeping a handcuff key on my ring. It had been a joke, but proven more useful than I could count. I unlocked the cuffs and looked at Ellis who was regarding me suspiciously.
“My ass hurts, Simon,” he said with a wary smile.
“Imagine if I’
d have left you with those two,” I replied.
We got to my car and I stopped, looked around. We were clear.
“Listen,” I told him. “You were right about what you said. Max is in this thing up to his ears. He took the DHS files. I think he had help.”
“Aww, shit…” Ellis moaned.
“I know… look. I’ll call you. But get out of town. Don’t use your car. Don’t go home. Just go. I’ll call you when I can.”
“You’re aces, man,” he said. “I love ya!”
Ellis hugged me and God help me I hugged him back. He was a weird duck, but he didn’t deserve to be hurt over this.
“Put some ice on that,” I said, pointing to his eye.
He nodded and smiled then began to jog away, heading for the stairs.
I ran the other way. I stepped over the railing and dropped to the parking level below. I ducked between parked cars and performed the same operation, dropping to the next floor down.
I was planning to head for the exit. I needed to sprint across the open distance of garage, leap the barrier and climb through the bushes on the other side and I’d be free. I waited, then bolted for the far side. I heard the screech of tires and realized it was too late for me to turn back. I was in the path of headlights coming right for me.
Chapter Ten
There was no time to get out of the way of the approaching car. I was too far out into the open lane of the parking garage ramp. I wasn’t fast enough to outrun the car before it bore down on me. Not close enough to dodge back the way I’d come. All I could do was brace myself for impact.
The tires screeched and nose of the car dipped severely as the driver braked. The car was decelerating but not quickly enough. I tried to jump in the air so that my legs weren’t snapped like twigs. My foot caught on the bumper and in a clumsy sideways pirouette I spun to the pavement. The car had stopped and wasn’t going to mash me under its tires, at least not in that moment, so I took a second to evaluate my injuries.
My hands were beginning to bleed where I tried to stop myself from falling. That was painful, but minor. My back was fine. Not great, but fine. I tried to stand. My left knee was skinned in a grown-up version of a schoolyard injury. I never remembered them hurting that badly. Didn’t remember them at all to be honest. My knee felt like it was on fire and some maniacally misled firefighter was trying to put it out with gasoline. But that was okay, it was my ankle that concerned me. I attempted to put weight on it but the throbbing ache that shot through me… that hopeless inability to put weight on it brought me up short.
I put one hand on the fender of the car and stood slowly, willing my legs to move. I straightened, testing my strength. My eyes met those of the driver and I realized that I was expecting a stranger, perhaps even the security patrol car. Instead I found myself looking at Jessica. Her eyes were wide with shock, her brow furrowed in concern. I cast a quick look around and limped to her window.
“Oh my God, Simon! Are you okay?” She asked.
“No, you just hit me with your car,” I replied and tried to smile, but it must have looked more like a grimace to her.
“Are you hurt?” she asked again.
“I’ll be okay,” I said. I knew that I joked sometimes to cut through the tension, but I couldn’t laugh off the situation, let alone the injury. I prayed that my ankle wasn’t broken. I owed it to Jess to tell her the truth and not hide it.
“Simon?” Jessica said, her voice wavering, trying not to, but faltering anyway. “What you said before, about Chris, about Max… all of it… is it true?”
I’d been where Jessica was in that moment. So deep in the crisis that knowing which way was up was difficult. Now, in this case, who could you trust? Everything was compromised. Nothing could be accepted at face value. At first, all I could do was nod.
“It’s true,” I said. “God help me, but it’s all true. I’d give anything in this world for things to be back the way they were before all of this happened. I never wanted things to turn out this way. I never wanted to be in the middle of it. To put you in the middle of it…”
Jessica and I looked at each other then in that moment, her eyes on mine, reading my face. I let myself be open to her, not concealing anything, not shading the truth. I let her read me completely and felt more exposed than I had in recent memory.
“And I’ll do whatever it takes to get us out,” I said at last.
“I believe you,” she said finally. Then she smiled and I couldn’t help but feel my heart melt at the warmness of it.
“Pop the trunk,” I said.
“I’m sorry?”
“Pop the trunk,” I repeated without irritation and added a smile.
Jessica, God bless her, did what I asked and popped the trunk. I sat on the lip of the trunk, then leaned back into the well, careful not to bang my ankle as I got in. Once inside, I reached up and slammed the lid closed. I was enveloped in the darkness and strangely enough, felt safe for the moment. The car moved and I realized I’d forgotten to brace my hands inside the trunk so I wouldn’t slide around.
I felt the car ease down the ramp, then the crazy spin of the corner and the world seemed to turn upside down, then correct itself. I heard the brakes, then a long stop, then conversation. She was talking to someone.
The security gate, I realized. We were at the security gate. I wondered how the discussion would go… Jessica had just arrived in the building, now turning around and leaving… Would the guard question? Did someone see me get in the trunk? Could the guards I’d warned off of Ellis have possibly talked to Max and realized their error?
I envisioned them stopping the car at the gate just long enough for the guards to arrive, guns drawn and corner me in the trunk, waiting to pop the lock and then catch me or kill me. And what would happen to Jessica then? Witness to all of this… what would they do with her?
My mind raced through possibilities and while my mind worked, my hands found the Glock in my pocket and I readied myself in case something should happen. But in the end, I could hear the lower tone of the guard speaking and the muffled inflection of the unmistakably bored “Have a nice day…” I was well beyond having a nice day, but a moment later, the car rolled forward and I could feel Jessica accelerate out into traffic.
Fifteen minutes later, jostling through morning traffic in Chicago, we finally arrived at our destination. The car stopped at last and I waited. And waited. And then began to wonder what it was like for the children of the parents who left their kids in the car because they were “only running inside for a second.”
Finally, the trunk lid disengaged and Jessica opened it. The light hit my eyes, blinding me, but I forced myself to move. Nothing more unusual than a man getting out of the trunk of a car. And people noticed unusual things. The last thing I needed just then was to be noticed.
“Sorry,” Jessica said. “There were people in the lot.”
“You read my mind,” I replied and got out as quickly as I could manage.
I looked around and realized that we were in a small side lot for a little Italian café named Valerio’s. We’d talked about going there but never had managed to find the time. I needed time though, would make time if that’s what was required.
“Oh…” I said, reading the sign. “How romantic. Madame?”
I offered Jessica my arm and she took it and together we walked to the front door. She seemed to glide when she walked, all athletic grace. I bit my lip and tried not to limp on my bad ankle. We made quite the couple.
I held the door for her and took the opportunity to brace myself on the doorway before entering. The maitre d’ greeted us and I indicated a table for two, then slipped her a bill and whispered that we’d need a table in the back. I added, “It’s a very big day,” and gave her a wink. She smiled knowingly and escorted us to a back table where we could have some privacy.
I pulled out Jessica’s chair for her, then sat across from her so that my back was to the wall and I could see the entire room including the
entrance and the hall to the kitchen. We received our menus and the server disappeared.
“You know you always do that?” she asked. She was not annoyed, just making an observation, something she did not know if I was aware of.
“What’s that? Oh… the..” I indicated our seating arrangement.
“Mm-hmm,” she replied with a smile.
“Sorry.”
“You apologize too much,” she scoffed.
“I have a lot to apologize for…” I said, but lost myself in the menu, not really wanting to discuss it.
A moment later the waitress reappeared to take our order. I looked at Jessica and she nodded at me and put down her menu. I ordered us two espressos and biscotti to share. The waiter smiled, took our menus and again disappeared into the back. Jessica took notice.
“What did you tell the maitre d’?” she asked.
“That today was a ‘big day’,” I said and waggled my eyebrows.
Jess laughed and rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, well, you did ask me to run away with you,” she said.
I couldn’t help myself and laughed.
“I’m sorry,” I said a moment later. “Sorry that it came to be this way.”
Jess waved her hand, dismissively.
“What are we going to do now?” she asked. “That’s what’s important.”
I nodded and before I could answer, our orders arrived. I asked for ice water as well, apologizing for making her run. She was gone and back in an instant. I took a sip of my coffee and let the liquid warm me down through my chest into my stomach. Then glancing around, I crossed my legs, bringing my injured ankle up to rest on my opposite knee. I unfolded my napkin and spooned ice out of the glass, folded the napkin over, creating a makeshift icepack and then made it disappear under the table. Jessica was chewing on biscotti watching me perform this process.
“Has this happened to you before?” she asked.
“Variations on a theme,” I shrugged. “Do you have any ibuprofen?”
Jessica checked her purse, rummaged for a second, offered me a breath mint while she continued to look, then came up with two tablets. I took them, swallowed them down with the water and thanked her.
