by Mike Ryan
Eldridge grabbed her arm again, squeezing it tightly. That was a big enough sign for Recker that he needed to move in. He got out of his car and started running for them.
“Stop it! You’re hurting me!” Hendricks yelled before breaking free of her ex’s grasp.
“I’m sorry…I’m sorry,” he told her, wanting to move closer and hug her, but then stepping back.
As soon as Recker stepped on the sidewalk, Eldridge noticed him coming closer.
“There a problem here?” Recker shouted.
With him still remembering Recker’s threat from earlier, he completely forgot about Hendricks and kept his eyes fixated on the stranger walking toward him. Thankful that someone was coming, and with Eldridge’s concentration elsewhere, Hendricks turned and jogged over to her car. She immediately drove out of the parking lot, not looking back at what was happening behind her.
“You again,” Eldridge stated.
“Think I warned you already about what would happen if you didn’t leave her alone.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“Probably should be,” Recker warned.
Eldridge took a swing at him, Recker ducking the blow, countering with a shot to the left cheek. Eldridge tried another punch, Recker blocking it, countering with a short left to the bridge of Eldridge’s nose, cutting it on the bridge. Eldridge, though stunned and wobbly, tried one more time, this time successfully getting through Recker’s defenses, punching him in the side of the stomach. Right near the scar from where he got shot, Recker grimaced in pain, still not a hundred percent healed from the injury. Not wanting to continue the fight any longer, Recker put all of his might into his next shot, punching Eldridge in the face as hard as he could. Eldridge was knocked to the ground, a cut just above his eye. He put his arms down as if he was trying to push himself up but he just couldn’t do it. He didn’t have the strength. A couple onlookers rushed over, but still stayed a healthy distance away, not quite sure what to make of the tough looking stranger standing over the fallen man.
“Think he must’ve slipped or something,” Recker said, moving between the crowd.
Recker went back to his truck and drove away, letting Jones know what happened as he drove. He immediately went to Hendricks’ apartment to stake it out in the event that Eldridge eventually made his way over there.
Chapter 5
Recker had been tailing Hendricks for the last three days. He followed her to work, back to her apartment, to the grocery store, even to the gas station. Not a single sign of Eldridge. According to Jones, Hendricks hadn’t received any communication from her ex-boyfriend in the three days since Recker had worked him over. Though Jones was hopeful that his encounter with Recker had finally wisened Eldridge up, Recker was skeptical that it made much of a difference. In his experience, very few people changed who they were or how they behaved. He expected that he’d run into him soon enough.
It was just after nine o’clock, and Recker followed Hendricks to a large two-story bar that also doubled as a nightclub on the second floor on the weekends. She was invited there by a couple of her friends from the hospital, and even though that really wasn’t her type of scene, she reluctantly agreed to go, hoping it might clear her mind somewhat. Recker followed her into the bar, making sure he kept some distance from her. He stayed near the end of the bar as Hendricks and her friends sat at a table in the corner, sipping on a drink slowly as he kept his eyes on them. The trio of women stayed pretty much to themselves for the next couple hours, talking and laughing the night away, though they did rebuff the advances of a few guys who tried hitting on them. Ten minutes after eleven, Recker noticed a very attractive woman, dressed in a short skirt, walk out the front door. Coincidentally, three athletic looking guys who appeared to be in their mid-twenties followed her out the door. Recker thought that maybe he just assumed the worst of people, but he found it a little too convenient for his tastes. Seeing as how he still hadn’t seen Eldridge anywhere, he decided to follow the others out the door.
Recker hadn’t stepped outside for more than a few seconds when he heard a woman screaming from the side of the bar. There was a small parking area there, only enough for about ten cars lined up against the side of the building. Recker rushed around the corner and saw two of the guys trying to force themselves on the woman while the other stood there as a lookout. Recker ran over to them, the lookout yelling something at him, then started swinging. Recker blocked the punch, then gave him a shot in the kidneys, making the preppy looking guy hunch over. Recker forcefully kneed him in the face, then punched him as he laid on the ground holding his broken nose. He then raced over to the two guys and pulled them both off the girl, ducking one of their blows. Recker took the back of the head of the first guy and drove his head through the passenger side window of the car next to them, half of his body sticking out of the car. The other guy stood there in shock before getting the courage to throw a weakly looking punch that Recker easily sidestepped. Recker gave him a left cross, flooring the man without too much effort. Recker looked back at the woman, still standing by back of the car, stunned by everything that just transpired.
“You OK?” Recker asked, walking over to her.
“Uhh, yeah, yeah, I’m OK,” she replied. “Thank you so much,” she said, giving him a hug. “Are you a cop or something?”
“No. Go inside and tell the bartender what just happened and to call the police.”
The woman did as she was instructed and went inside. The first guy that Recker decked started to move around like he was going to get up but Recker gave him a good, solid kick that put him down permanently. Knowing he couldn’t stay there too much longer to be questioned with the police on the way, he went back to his truck and just sat there, waiting for Hendricks and her friends to leave the bar. Quite a few people started coming outside to look at the carnage after the woman told her story to the people that worked there and to make sure that the three men didn’t go anywhere before the police arrived. Hendricks and her friends came out with the rest of the crowd but didn’t stick around much longer. They each got in their separate cars and went their own way, with Recker following Hendricks. She went straight home and appeared to go to bed as Recker waited outside her apartment for another hour to make sure nothing happened.
The following morning, Recker walked into the office, breakfast in hand. Coffee for both of them along with bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches on a croissant. Just the way he noticed that Jones liked it. With his trained eye, he noticed that Jones had one several days in the past week. Jones was sitting at the desk and working on a computer, not paying much attention to his partner. Recker walked over to him and set the coffee and sandwich on the desk, next to the keyboard.
Jones was a little surprised at the breakfast offering. “What’s this?”
“What’s it look like? Breakfast,” Recker replied.
“Yes, I can see that. I mean, at the risk of sounding ungrateful, I don’t recall asking you to bring me anything.”
“Well, being the sharp fellow that I am, I noticed that you had one of those three days this week. Figured you liked them. Coffee…milk, no sugar.”
“While I do appreciate the kind gesture, you must’ve missed the pattern,” Jones stated.
“What pattern?”
“I try to stick to Monday, Wednesday, Friday for them and filter in other breakfast items on the other days.”
“Oh. Sorry about that,” Recker said, picking the sandwich back up.
“What’re you doing?”
“Well, since today’s Saturday, and not a croissant day…I figured I’d eat it for you.”
Jones playfully slapped his hand and took the sandwich back. “Since you already took the trouble of getting me one, I suppose I could at least do you the favor of consuming it.”
“Kind of a weird thing you got going on there, Jones.”
“Yes, well, I suppose we all have our little quirks, don’t we?”
Recker took a seat next t
o him as they ate breakfast together.
“See the morning papers?” Jones asked, putting them in front of Recker.
“No. Not yet.”
“It seems that you’ve made them.”
“Me?”
“It would appear that your escapade of helping that young woman at the bar was newsworthy. Story in the Inquirer read, “Mysterious man in trench coat saves woman from getting raped.”
Recker just listened as he sipped on his coffee.
“Daily News says, “Woman saved from rapists by trench coat man”. Publicity we could do without, Mr. Recker.”
“Well, you hired me to save people. I saw a woman in trouble and I helped.”
“Don’t misunderstand me, I wasn’t criticizing you. You obviously did what you had to do to save that girl. Without you, she almost certainly would’ve been raped. I just wish it didn’t make headlines.”
“Well, it’s most likely just to be the first. If we’re successful in this, we’re probably gonna make a lot more. A couple of people out there in the city saving people from bad guys, who aren’t law enforcement…is bound to make headlines. That’s a big news story,” Recker stated.
“Perhaps. And perhaps it wouldn’t have been if one of the perpetrators hadn’t had his head thrown through a car window.”
Recker opened his mouth to say something, then closed it as he thought about what Jones just said. “Did you just criticize me?”
“Not at all. Just openly wondering if there could’ve been another way the situation could’ve been handled other than…so violently.”
“Jones, when you’re in a fight against three men at one time, you don’t worry about anything other than disabling them as soon as possible. Whatever way is necessary. I don’t think talking them to death was much of an option.”
“As I said, Mr. Recker, you’re probably completely right in how you handled it.”
They continued sitting there, eating their breakfast and drinking their coffee, browsing through the newspapers. Recker figured he’d try to get to know Jones a little better. His employer seemed to know quite a bit about him, but Recker knew very little the other way around. All he knew was that Jones once worked for the NSA.
“So why’d you pick this city?” Recker wondered.
Jones picked his head up from reading the paper and looked at him quizzically. “I don’t follow your question.”
“Well you’re not from around here so I was just wondering what made you settle here.”
“What makes you believe that I wasn’t born here?”
“Because you’re obviously too smart for that. Anyone intelligent enough to work for the NSA, smart enough to create new identities for himself and others, and crafty enough to hack into government files and databases, as well as banks of criminals and filter money into a secret account…isn’t dumb enough to go back to the city he was born in, or for that matter, any city which he was ever associated with prior to this,” Recker explained.
Jones grinned, though not surprised that Recker would come to that conclusion. He actually would’ve been disappointed in his abilities if he didn’t. “Very astute deductions, Mr. Recker. You are correct. I’ve been here approximately two months, and before that, never stepped foot in this city before.”
“So…why here?”
Jones shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I figured it was a large enough city to blend in and…large enough that it had plenty of problems and issues where we could help and make a difference.”
“So where are you from originally?”
Jones took a deep breath, unsure if he wanted to divulge any more information. Recker tried to set his mind at ease, knowing they had to trust each other if the partnership was to work and be effective.
“If you want me to go on with us, then I need to be sure I can trust you,” Recker said.
“Why would you not trust me already? I’ve told you I worked for the NSA. I told you I diverted your flight from Florida, where Centurion agents were surely waiting for you to finish what they started in London. I believe I saved your life, whether you wanted me to or not. I’ve given you employment. What else can I do to gain your trust?”
“You can start by telling me who you really are. What you’re about?”
“I’ve already done that.”
“No. No, you haven’t. You’ve told me what you want to accomplish and how you acquire the information that you do. But you haven’t told me who you are.”
Jones just looked at Recker for several moments. “I guess it’s just…I just fail to see why that’s important.”
“How am I supposed to trust somebody that I don’t really know? Something comes up on that screen of yours and I’m supposed to follow it without asking questions?”
“So when you worked for the CIA, you knew exactly everything and didn’t work in the shadows with only snippets of information?” Jones asked.
“This isn’t the CIA. Or the NSA, for that matter. I knew I was working for the government and I’d be doing highly questionable things that I had no clue the reasoning behind it. That didn’t end so well for me and I’m not about to make that mistake again. If I work for someone, anyone, then I need to know all the facts. No more games, no more guesses, no more secrets,” Recker said.
“That is a two way street, Mr. Recker. I could say the same thing for you.”
Recker’s head snapped back, unsure what he was talking about. “How’s that?”
“Well, I know quite a bit about you already. But there is one thing that has been puzzling me though.”
“What’s that?”
“You were ambushed in London. Nearly killed. But you survived and spent six months in hiding.”
“What’s so strange about that?”
“That you used a known alias to book a flight to Orlando, surely knowing that alias would pop up on the CIA’s radar.”
“You already figured that out. I wasn’t planning on leaving that airport.”
“So you were planning on going down in a blaze of glory?” Jones asked.
“Sure.”
“No. No, I don’t think so. I don’t believe that a man who survives an attack and nearly dies, and hides out for six months, all of a sudden plans on going down in a hail of gunfire. If that were the case, you would’ve decided to do that days, if not minutes, after getting out of the hospital. Or you never would’ve went to the hospital to begin with. Your reasoning for doing so eludes me, but you had a particular reason for choosing Orlando. I just haven’t figured it out yet. Of course, if you’d like to share, then perhaps…perhaps we both can divulge some of our inner secrets.”
Recker thought about it for a minute, staring at ahead, not really looking at anything in particular. He really hadn’t planned on spilling the beans on why he was really going to Orlando, but he figured that if he did, maybe Jones could actually be useful in helping him track down the man he was looking for. After all, if Jones could find him, he should be able to find Agent Seventeen. Eventually, he knew he’d have to turn to someone for help. Since he didn’t know if he could trust any of his former contacts, he’d have to find someone who was on the outside. Maybe Jones was that guy.
“OK,” Recker said, finally making up his mind. “You’re right. I wasn’t planning on going there just to meet my ends. I was looking for someone.”
“But you had to know Centurion would be there waiting.”
“I was counting on it.”
“It’s still not making much sense yet. Who exactly were you there for?”
“One agent.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know his name. I only know his codename. Agent Seventeen.”
“Is he a friend?”
“Hardly. I’ve never met him. But when I do…I will kill him,” Recker said.
“Why would you want to kill someone you’ve never met? Do you think he’s the one responsible for what happened in London?”
“No,” Recker replied, shaking his head. �
�He’s just a regular operative…like me. You know, I’m not really even angry about what happened in London. It’s a secret world full of people in the shadows. You kill, people try to kill you, and it goes round and round. When you live in that world, you learn to expect things like that.”
“I’m still not connecting the dots,” Jones stated.
Recker’s eyes became glossy as he thought about Carrie and what happened to her. “I made the…uhh…unfortunate mistake of meeting a woman.”
Jones could tell by Recker’s manner of speaking that it was rather uncomfortable for him. He seemed to be deeply moved and there was an intensity in his eyes that seemed to consume him.
“And I fell in love with her,” Recker continued. “And she had the misfortune of falling in love with me.”
“So that’s who you were going to Orlando to see?” Jones asked. “None of that information was in any of your records.”
“Usually isn’t.”
“So what does this Agent Seventeen have to do with her?”
Recker clenched his jaws together as he described what happened. “He killed her.”
Jones closed his eyes, having a feeling that’s where he was heading with the story. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“So am I.”
“What happened? When did it happen?” Jones wondered.
“The night I was attacked in London. They came for her too.”
“Why? What harm could she be?”
“No loose ends. If they got rid of me, they couldn’t risk her living to tell anything that I might have told her in confidence. After I killed the two agents sent to kill me, as I walked to the hospital, I called her just to make sure she was all right. A man answered the phone. He told me he killed her.”
“How do you know it was this Agent Seventeen?”
