“I was busy.”
“This isn’t the time to have your priorities mixed up. The meeting with Patrice should have preempted everything.”
“I’m confused. Are you my boss, Matt?” I asked.
He looked offended.
“I’m in charge of this project, like it or not.”
I crouched down to get at his level.
“I have proof,” I said in a low voice. It was hard to contain my ebullience and I didn’t really try.
Simons looked alarmed.
“Proof of what?”
“IT is testing a new archiving system. You didn’t know about it. None of us did. Those IT guys. They do things but they don’t always tell you. Thanks to this new archiving system they’re testing, we have two copies of our files published to the archives each night. The copy you know about, the archive you modified to erase all history of your file tampering, and the one you didn’t know about, the one IT was testing. You know what I found in those archives? Proof that you were the one who changed the formula for the build that caught fire. You didn’t delete that evidence because you didn’t even know it existed. I have the modified files with your log-in information all over them, you jackass.”
Simons stammered, unable to speak.
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
And so I told him.
CHAPTER 51
Brad had ordered an iced tea from the slender brunette waitress. I got a glass of water with a lemon slice. We passed on ordering food, and her semi-scowl seemed to anticipate the measly tip to come. Of course that wouldn’t be the case, scowl or not.
We were in the outside seating patio area at Not Your Average Joe’s in Arlington Center. The bright sun baked the metal table hot to the touch, but I wanted to be outside and in a public place when I made the exchange. I also wanted to have a friend along with me in case things got dicey.
Brad wore a dark blue, short-sleeved polo shirt, dungarees, and aviator-like sunglasses. With his bushy mustache he looked a bit like a spy on a stakeout, and judging by the way he acted—highly alert while making several furtive glances—he was acting like one, too.
“Brad, drink your tea and relax. I’m not worried anything is going to happen.”
“Then why’d you want me here?”
“Just as security, extra eyes in case I’m missing something.” Something I’d learned from Roy.
“So that’s what I’m doing,” Brad said a bit defensively. “I’m acting as the eyes.”
I nodded, surrendering to his logic.
“It’s going to be fine, Brad. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Are you asking me or telling me? Because I’m pretty sure that’s not how you feel.”
I returned a grimace. “Hey, are you reading my aura?” I asked.
“No, I’m just being your pal. And I can tell you’re pretty nervous.”
Of course, Brad was right. Every passing car made me jumpy. I kept thinking the windows would roll down and Lucas would lean out with gun in hand, ready to riddle my body with hot lead. My phone would buzz intermittently with text messages from Anna or with a trivial work-related matter, but of course I’d think it was Patrice, who noticed some unusual activity requiring the immediate attention of the breach team. Maybe I hadn’t covered my tracks as carefully as I thought, and I’d soon be investigating the data theft I’d just perpetrated. Or maybe I was overly confident and this plan of mine was going to fail.
As we waited for Roy to show, my uneasiness only grew. I twisted several napkins into shreds while doing battle with my emotions. I thought about asking Brad to take hold of my hands to see if Max was somewhere looking on. I wanted to know if he was proud of my solution.
Max and I had talked a lot about no-win situations after I introduced him to the joys of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan at the wildly inappropriate age of seven. Had the movie come out two years later, it would have been PG-13, but I didn’t share that tidbit with Karen when I got it on Netflix and showed her it was fine for Max to watch because of its PG rating. Max fell completely in love with the movie and Star Trek as a result. At one particularly dramatic moment, he made me hit reverse so we could both yell, “KHAN!” right along with Captain Kirk.
After the viewing, we talked at length about the Kobayashi Maru, the training exercise at the Starfleet Academy designed to test the character of potential future starship captains. It was a no-win scenario in which the test taker, Lieutenant Saavik, played by Kirstie Alley, must decide to engage in a suicide mission to rescue the crew of a damaged spaceship, the Kobayashi Maru, or take choice number two and abandon the crew of the Kobayashi Maru, leaving them to a certain death.
The parallels to my own life weren’t lost on me. Give Lithio Systems competitive advantage to Roy and put the company out of business? Or don’t give Roy the plans, don’t get Nicky Stacks his money, and watch the people I love die? A no-win situation.
When it was revealed in the film that Captain Kirk had altered the program to beat the test, he said he did so because he did not believe in no-win scenarios, and neither do I. In fact, Kirk was my inspiration for finding the one way out of this paradox. To win the game, I had to change the rules.
“Where’d you go?” Brad asked.
His voice pulled me out of my daydream, but the lump in my throat from thinking about Max and the movie he loved remained.
“Sorry, I’m just anxious.” The speed at which my feet tapped against the patio flagstone was the combination of Adderall magic and fractured nerves.
“I thought you said there was nothing to be worried about.”
“I figured you’d know I was lying.”
Brad nodded. “Yeah, of course I did. But I’m glad you called me, anyway.”
“And do you think I’ve done the right thing?”
“I think you were faced with two terrible choices.”
I had confided in Brad—full disclosure. He knew this was my personal version of the Kobayashi Maru.
“What would you have done?” I asked.
“I probably would have been too scared to think of anything logical. He threatened your family, Gage. You’re mixed up with some very dangerous people.”
“Which is why I wish you hadn’t pressed me for the details.”
“Hey, I wasn’t coming out on a stakeout without getting the facts first.”
“Well, now you’ve got them.” I sounded glum. I checked the time on my phone. Roy would be here in five minutes.
“It’s going to work,” Brad said. “I have a feeling.”
“You don’t sound sincere.”
“What are you talking about? I’m completely sincere.”
“No, you sounded overly sincere. That’s not the same thing.”
“I’m a plumber. We don’t exaggerate unless it has something to do with your bill.”
I gave Brad a surprised look. “So you guys do overcharge!”
Brad put his finger to his lips. “Shh,” he said. “It’s a trade secret.” He smiled and winked, and I felt a little bit better, a smidge lighter, until I saw Roy approach.
He came walking down the street with his usual swagger, chewing on a toothpick, thumbs hooked into the loops of his jeans, black boots scraping on the sidewalk, his black T-shirt clinging to his trim physique. Roy sat down, lowered his shades, and appraised Brad with a curious look.
“Is he your protection?” Roy asked, switching the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, while thumbing over to Brad. He pushed his shades back up.
“I’m just a guy enjoying a glass of iced tea on a sunny day,” Brad said, lifting his glass to show Roy.
Roy mulled this over.
“Okay, whatever. You got the stuff?”
“Yeah, I got it.” I put the USB key down on the table.
Roy cupped the USB key with his hand and slid it across to himself. I watched him examine it carefully, twirling it in his fingers.
“This is it?” he asked.
“
That’s it.”
“It’s not much.”
“It’s worth a lot to the right buyer,” I said. “Do you have the right buyer?”
“The guy Nicky hooked me up with says so, and he sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.”
“And you think this will get enough money to pay back Nicky?” Brad asked.
Roy shot me an irritated look.
“You told Lily, I told Brad,” I said.
Roy just shrugged. “Whatever,” he said again. Then to Brad Roy said, “Yeah, it better bring in enough scratch. We gotta move quick on this.”
“Who is your source?” Brad asked.
Roy looked at me, pointed to Brad, and said, “Who is this guy?”
“I’m his friend,” Brad said.
Roy stared at Brad, his eyes unreadable behind those shades. “Aren’t you the plumber?”
“Yeah, I’m his friend who happens to be a plumber.”
Roy grinned, and his crooked mouth seemed to put the world at a tilt. “Well, plumber friend,” he said, showing Brad the USB key, “you better hope that this here is good enough to get us the cash we need, or Nicky is going to flush his body parts right down the drain along with mine.” He stood up, pushing his metal chair back with a scraping sound. He put his hands against his hips in a move that made the muscles of his arms tighten and his tattoos flex. He nodded his good-bye to me.
“I’ll be in touch,” Roy said. “Keep a low profile.” He nodded to Brad while slipping the USB key into the front pocket of his jeans. He spit out a toothpick, slid in another, and then left.
I watched my future vanish into the crowd, while I’m sure all Brad saw was a black aura moving steadily away.
A woman emerged from the cover of a store entrance about fifty yards down the street and fell into step with Roy. She kept her back to me, but her long, dirty-brown hair swayed across her back in familiar fashion. I could tell who it was just by her gait.
I stood quickly and raced down the street calling her name: “Lily! Lily!”
I wanted her to contact Anna. I wanted some closure. Anna would hold onto hope as long as she had a finger-width of ledge space to grasp. Lily owed her some sort of explanation, a simple good-bye, something about a change of heart, anything that would allow Anna to let go so she could move on. So we could move on together. I called out Lily’s name, but the woman down the street never looked back. They turned the corner and vanished from my view. When I reached the same corner, breathless, hands on my knees, panting from the short sprint, I looked in every direction, but Roy and Lily were gone.
CHAPTER 52
One week later and still no word from Roy. No word from Lily, either. Anna had closed the Humboldt deal, so she could take maternity leave without causing any undue financial strain, but we were missing the one essential ingredient—a baby to mother. Anna continued to prep for the home study, believing Lily might still come back. Margret would show up and do her official thing and we’d be sanctioned to adopt the unborn child who had vanished along with Lily.
“She’s seventeen weeks along now,” Anna had said to me at dinner. “She’ll be showing even more. I hope she’s okay. I just wish I could talk to her.”
And I wished I had caught up to them before the pair vanished somewhere on the streets of Arlington. I had looked everywhere for them, in every nearby store, but to no avail. It was as if they were spirits who had disappeared into the ether.
While Anna kept busy with her job and getting our place ready for the home study, I was at work, trying to maintain the semblance of a normal routine. Peter George was extremely pleased with our efforts. Matt Simons was driving everybody crazy with his nutty demands, fiery e-mails, and unrealistic project expectations. Even so, we all fell into lockstep behind him, knowing full well the consequences for failure would be dire for our collective employment. Somehow I managed to concentrate on the work, even though every minute it seemed I was checking for messages from Roy.
I was in a standup meeting, doing the Agile project thing, when my phone buzzed. At the time, I was thinking about Anna, worried about her really, wondering when she’d accept the truth about Lily. I wasn’t paying attention to the status update as I should have been.
The phone buzzed again. I thought it was Anna because I was thinking of her, a little bit of the mysterious universe at work. But it wasn’t. It was a text message from Roy.
I got the money. Meet me at Nicky’s.
Two hours later I was back in East Boston, back at Nicky’s restaurant. I canceled my afternoon meetings and called Anna to tell her I’d be coming home a bit late. No questions asked. Roy was in the bar area, waiting for me at a round table, chewing on a toothpick. A captain’s case, the kind used by pilots and lawyers, stood on the floor beside him. I sat down.
“Is that what I think it is?” I asked.
Roy nodded.
“You’re just hanging around here with a million dollars in cash?”
“Nobody is going to rob me while I’m in Nicky’s,” Roy said.
I nodded because it made sense.
“So what now?”
“Now we wait. Nicky is finishing up some business.”
I didn’t say anything for a few minutes. I just sat and watched Roy chew on a chip of ice in the Scotch he ordered. I looked around at the patrons, blue-collar types, probably locals, I’m guessing regulars, painters and electricians, and people who wear a uniform to work, enjoying a meal or a drink. Eventually, I broke the weighty silence.
“I saw you with Lily,” I said.
Roy returned a cryptic look.
“She needs to talk to Anna,” I said. “Tell Anna she’s not coming back. Tell her it’s time to forget this and move on.”
Roy leaned in.
“Listen to me carefully, Gage,” he said. His frosty eyes narrowed into slits, his gravelly voice sank an octave. “Are you listening?”
I nodded.
“Once this money exchanges hands, we are done. There’s no contacting us. There’s no looking for us. We don’t exist to you and you don’t exist to us. We’re gone. Whatever you need to tell Anna to make it all better is fine by me. That’s your life with your wife. But I want to be crystal clear about this: our connection ends today. When Nicky gets this money, you are dead to me. Understand?”
“What if Lucas comes looking for me?”
“Sucks to be you,” Roy said.
“Thanks. I feel so much better now.”
“Honestly, I don’t give a crap how you feel. I’m about to hand over the biggest score of my career to Nicky Stacks. A million friggin’ dollars, here one minute and gone the next. You know what that does to me? Do you know how that’s tearing me apart?”
“My heart is breaking for you, Roy.”
“At least I got enough from this sale, a little extra pocket change to cover my other debts.”
I knew it. “So the guy Nicky hooked you up with, who did he sell the plans to?”
“No clue,” Roy said. “I think they’re some Chinese guys. I’m just the middleman. He had no trouble moving what you gave me, that’s for sure. It’s big stuff what you do, huh?”
“Big,” I concurred.
“Okay, well, we got lucky here. Good thing you didn’t work for Applebee’s or something.”
“Yeah, good thing,” I repeated.
Roy looked past me, his gaze locked on something happening over my shoulder.
I turned and saw the massive silhouette of Nicky Stacks looming in the entranceway to the upper-level dining area. Stacks motioned with his finger before he vanished from our view. Roy and I walked to the back of the restaurant. My heart started to race, and each breath came with effort. I was having a PTSD reaction to the sight of Nicky Stacks. But as soon as I entered the dining area, my fear spiked tenfold.
Sitting at a table with Nicky Stacks was Lucas Moreno. He wore a different tailored suit, but I recognized the linebacker’s build and swarthy complexion right away. I’d seen people angry wit
h me before—people at work, Anna, a whole host of them—but I’d never seen anybody whose only purpose in life was to kill me.
When he saw me, Lucas stood fast enough to knock over his chair. Stacks rose with him, moving surprisingly quick for such a big man, and set one of his massive hands on Lucas’s shoulder to hold him in place.
“Search them both,” Nicky instructed.
Lucas patted down Roy, found no weapons or wires. Then it was my turn. When he touched my body I could feel his desire to snap my ribs. His hands slapped hard against my back, my midsection, my legs and arms, more punch than pat.
“Bring me the case,” Stacks said to Roy in a commanding voice that could have stopped an angry dog.
Roy stepped forward, case in hand. I followed. Stacks cleared away the set of plates in front of him. It looked like he was eating spaghetti and chicken parm and enjoying a glass of wine, too, but I noticed only one place setting.
Nicky popped the latches on the case and looked inside. I got a glimpse of the stacks of bills, hundreds it seemed. Nicky took out several stacks of hundreds and examined them. Then he took out five stacks total—I’m guessing a hundred bills per stack—or what probably amounted to fifty thousand dollars. The case was still stuffed full of cash.
Nicky glared at me, then at Lucas.
“This is done,” he said, speaking to both of us. He stacked the money on the table into three towers. “Lucas, this is yours. It’s tribute for your brother. I’ve spoken with your boss and we’ve agreed you’re not to touch this man.” Stacks pointed at me. “Is that understood? He’s to be left alone. We are sorry for what happened to Jorge, but it’s done. There’s no going back. If you start shooting up people, questions will be asked and it will be bad for business. So this ends now. It’s done. Is that understood?”
I nodded, trying to quell the fear. Lucas glared at me, his unblinking eyes expressed deep hatred. He wanted to hurt me.
“Is that understood?” Stacks said to Lucas.
Finally, after what felt like eternity, Lucas gave a reluctant nod.
“I’m sorry about your brother,” I said. “I wish it could have been different.”
Desperate Page 26
