by Sussman, Ben
When Emma Hosobuchi showed up, though, things began to change. Emma was the first woman that Cameron found himself truly enamored with. She had shown up in his office one day shortly after starting work there, thumbing her Blackberry incessantly.
“Hi. I hear you’re the best programmer we have in the building,” she said nonchalantly.
Cameron fumbled for an answer, quickly trying to straighten up his junk food-strewn desk. “Well, I guess I could be. I’m Cameron Allen,” he stammered, pushing a few Snickers wrappers into the trash can.
“I know,” she said, finally looking up from her cell phone. “We need to increase our security. I’m concerned about how vulnerable some of the lower level assets are.”
Cameron’s heart began pounding so strongly, he was sure Emma could hear it. Did she know? Is that why she was here? No, he reasoned. I’ve covered my tracks so well.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Cameron retorted to hide his nervousness.
“Emma Hosobuchi.”
“Right, sorry. I heard you had started downstairs. I just didn’t imagine you were so…” the words “young and cute” got lost on his tongue as Emma stared at him. “Anyway, I’m Cameron Allen.”
“Yes, we covered that.”
“Sorry. Great programming skills, bad communication skills.” He chuckled, dying inside. Jesus, that was a stupid thing to say!
Emma brushed by him, ignoring the comment, and headed for his workstation. Her fingers immediately began tapping on the keys. “The walls around our communication systems are weak. I’d like you to see what you could do to enforce them.”
Cameron took a seat at his computer and peered at the screen. Emma leaned over his shoulder, pointing at the monitor.
“This right here. A third grade student in China could hack through it in ten minutes.”
“Huh. You’re right,” Cameron conceded.
For the next twenty minutes, he listened to Emma take him through her ideas to update the system. He felt as if he was in a master’s class on programming. Emma was so incredibly astute in her observations and technical skills that it became immediately obvious why she had been given her position at such a young age. At last, her phone buzzed and Emma glanced at it.
“I’m needed somewhere else.” She moved towards the doorway, then turned. “I have another idea I’d like to talk to you about tomorrow, though.” With that, she exited, leaving a dazed Cameron in her wake.
Over the next two weeks, Emma spent a good deal of time at Cameron’s side. She was intent on updating the security protocols for the cell phones all of the employees were assigned. “I’d like to create a program that tracks each and every call made from this building.”
“We do that on the hard lines,” Cameron told her.
“I know. I want it for the mobiles. We should have that capability, right?”
Cameron nodded. “I can do that. It might take a little while but-”
“Is two days’ time enough?”
“I was thinking more like two weeks.”
“Come on, Cameron. I have faith in you.” For the first time, Emma smiled at him.
He sighed. “Alright then.”
The next thirty-six hours were a Red Bull and Snicker-fueled coding frenzy for Cameron. When he at last emerged from his office, he headed straight downstairs to tell Emma the news. Earning perplexed looks from the office workers in the basement, he marched towards Emma’s office. He found her at her desk, working on two computer monitors simultaneously.
“I did it,” he said, beaming with pride.
Emma blinked in confusion. “The tracker program?”
Cameron nodded. “I think you’ll be impressed.”
“Great,” she replied. “I’ll come up and see it in a little while.” She turned back to her keyboard.
“Emma,” he began, dredging up his bravest voice for the question he had been planning for the past day. “I thought maybe you would like to join me for dinner. To celebrate.”
Emma looked at him with surprise. “I don’t really get out of the office much.”
“This is a great excuse then.”
“Well,” she paused before answering, “Sure, that might be nice. You pick the place. I’ll meet you there tonight at eight o’clock.”
“Great!” Cameron said before hurrying away. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. She actually said yes! Surely, that was an indicator that there was more feelings brewing for Emma as well.
Several hours later, Cameron sat at the small Italian restaurant Emma had agreed to meet him at. He waited. And waited. Twenty minutes ticked by, then thirty. An hour and a half after the arranged meeting time, Emma burst through the front door, spotting Cameron and waving. She sat down across from him, hair mussed and looking tired.
“Sorry,” she said, yawning. “I got caught up with something in the office. I’m surprised you’re still here. Good thing this isn’t a date or you would have left, huh?”
Cameron nodded, distracted by the emotions churning in his belly. Perhaps it was the time spent in the uncomfortable wooden chair while waiting or maybe it was the half a bottle of Chianti that he had downed. But, if he was being honest with himself, Cameron knew exactly what it was that was bothering him. This date was like every other one he had gone on in his life; a miserable failure stemming from cues that he misread as something different.
“Cameron?” Emma’s voice called him out of his thoughts. He glanced up at her. “You still want to eat? I’m starving.”
“I’m not hungry anymore,” he replied. He drained the last dregs of red wine at the bottom of his glass. “Everyone knows,” he blurted out.
“Knows what?” she asked, confused.
“About Mike Saunders. How you’re in love with him.”
Emma’s face flushed red as her mouth fumbled for a response. “That’s not true,” she stammered. “He recruited me. I talk to him sometimes. That’s all.”
Cameron leaned in, his voice thick with anger. “He’s not such a good guy. In fact, he’s a prick. Always acting nice to get people to like him. He’s married, did you know that?” Cameron enjoyed seeing the surprised look on her face. “Yeah, you didn’t. He doesn’t like to talk about his wife much. She’s stashed away upstate for some reason. Mental hospital is my guess.”
“Cameron, I don’t understand why you’re saying all this to me.”
“Whatever,” he mumbled, rising from the table. Without another word, he stumbled past her and out the door into the night.
That had been six months ago. Cameron had not spoken a word to Emma since then, preferring to answer her only in curt emails. If she had cared, Cameron did not see anything to indicate so. He went back to his life of solitary nights spent with his computer and his surly thoughts. He did not dare hack at work anymore. He knew enough about Emma’s talents to know that she placed traps within the system’s framework to catch someone like him.
He had found another way to get back at her, though. When the person first approached him on one of his chat boards, he practically leapt at the opportunity they were presenting. The money was more than he had ever gotten before and, even though he was not quite sure how, he knew that it was something that could be trouble for Emma.
As he lumbered back to his desk chair, he could now hear the klaxons blaring overhead. Something was going on. He logged on to his computer to see if there was a notice about a drill.
A shadow flitted across his monitor.
Cameron spun, surprised. When he saw who was standing behind him, though, he relaxed.
“You scared me,” he told the person. As he caught his breath, another thought occurred to him. “I thought you were-”
His sentence was cut off with a bullet to the forehead.
Cameron did not die right away. He heard the glass monitor shatter behind him, the distinct tinkle of shards falling to the floor. His thoughts were a jumbled mess he could not organize. His mouth mumbled what sounded like gibberish to his ears. He was
about to ask what was happening before a second bullet passed through his cheek and all his thoughts ceased.
Thirty-Nine
The Porsche Panamera spun around the corner of Sunset Boulevard and on to the empty lanes of the Pacific Coast Highway. For one brief second, Matt and Ashley could feel the left wheels lift off the ground before pounding back down to the asphalt. Matt downshifted and floored the accelerator.
“Do you think we lost him?” Ashley asked, desperately trying to catch her breath.
“I haven’t seen him since I cut through that last alley.”
Ashley chanced a look behind them. Beyond the rear window, the PCH stretched to the horizon before it bent around a far-away curve. The black ocean pounded at the rocks and sand hugging the highway’s side.
“I don’t see the police car,” she told Matt, who merely nodded. “What happened back there? The gunshots. Do you think Larsen is…” She could not bring herself to say the words. There had been more death tonight than she had imagined she would ever see in her entire life.
“Larsen’s a hero,” Matt replied cryptically. His eyes shifted and he angled the car towards the side of the road. Slowing down, he saw his destination.
“What are you doing?” Ashley asked. “Is there something here?”
“Yes,” Matt said, bringing the Porsche to a full stop. As he opened the door to climb out, he added, “My son.”
Luke was cold. He wrapped his arms around his midsection, trying to hold in some warmth. His teeth chattered but he was unsure if it was due to nerves or the chill. He steeled himself; there was no turning back now. He knew what he had to do. Slowly, he stood up on the sand. His feet began the slow trek towards the pounding surf that lay in front of him. The water crept towards him and he felt its icy tendrils make their way over his toes. As he lifted his knee to take another step, he paused.
He could have sworn he heard his name being called. Turning, he saw nothing but the shadowy sand and the craggy rocks that formed the surrounding cove. Shaking his head, he went back to the water. Suddenly, it was up to his chest. Salty spray was hitting his nostrils and mouth. He coughed and sputtered, thinking about going back.
“No,” he told himself. “You can’t.”
He gulped a breath of misty air, preparing to dive beneath the waves. As he was about to plunge beneath the cool water, an unseen force yanked him backwards. He struggled against two arms that were clamped around his waist in a vise-like grip.
“Let me go!” Luke shouted, thrashing against his captor. He fell backwards on the sand, the breath knocked out of him. His legs kicked furiously, trying to gain purchase but finding it impossible on the shifting ground.
“Luke, stop!” a voice answered, bringing a pause to his struggling.
“Dad?” Luke stopped moving long enough to turn and see his father looking down at him. Tears sprang to Luke’s eyes. He buried his face in Matt’s shirt. “Why are you here?”
Matt hugged his son fiercely. “I came for you. What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to swim far away. I have to so nobody will get hurt.”
Matt kneeled down to meet Luke’s eyes. “That’s why you came here?”
Luke nodded. “I figured a bomb won’t work in water.”
“Luke, listen to me. You’re not going to hurt anyone. I wouldn’t let that happen.”
“It’s not your fault, Dad.”
“Listen to me!” Matt insisted. “I will always protect you. I promised your mom I would and I am never going back on that promise. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Luke said softly.
“But I can’t do it without you, buddy. We’re all we’ve got in this whole world.” Luke sagged against him. “We came to this beach with Mom.”
Luke nodded. “I want to go home,” he looked up and told his father. “Can we just go home?” Luke knew the answer before Matt spoke it aloud.
“Not yet,” Matt said. He helped Luke to his feet, brushing off the sand that covered his clothes. “Let’s get back to the car. Then we’ll talk.”
Together, they made their way back up the small winding path that led back up to the road. As they crested the top, Matt immediately knew something was wrong. The Porsche lay abandoned, its doors thrust open to the night.
“Ashley?” Matt called out to the air.
“I failed to find her, too. Guess she finally gave up on you.”
Matt spun to see the police car pressed against the scrub at the side of the road. At its driver side door was John, a gun leveled at Matt’s chest. “You have made this quite difficult, Weatherly.”
Matt reached behind him and whipped up his own gun to meet John’s. “It’s over, John,” he said, fingering the trigger.
“Wrong. It is not over until my mission is complete. And I will let you know when that moment comes.”
“I’m not doing what you say anymore.”
John nodded as if he expected this. Keeping his gun trained on them, he reached behind to open the back door of the squad car and motioned with his head. Behind him, a wide-eyed middle-aged man climbed out, his hands held high. John grabbed him so that he was pressed against his side.
“Dad-” Luke whispered.
“Close your eyes, Luke,” his father answered in his own whisper. Luke did, pressing his face against Matt’s shirt.
“Matt,” John said in his eerily calm voice, “I would like you to meet…what’s your name again?”
“Joseph, sir.”
“Joseph, right. I saw him walking on the side of the road. Thought maybe he could use a ride. Where were you going, Joseph?”
“The bus stop,” the man replied in a shaky voice. “I clean offices downtown.”
“Enough of this,” Matt growled.
John’s head snapped in Matt’s direction. “Enough of this? You are right, Matt. I have had enough of this.” He turned back to Joseph, whose mouth was twitching in fear. “How many kids did you say you have?”
“I’ve got two. They-” A gunshot rang out, silencing Joseph’s further words. He slumped to the ground, a bullet hole placed neatly in the side of his throat.
Matt clutched Luke as John kicked Joseph’s body to the side and stepped over it, blood splashing on to the cuffs of his pants. The gun was brought back up to cover both Weatherlys.
“Do you understand, Matt? He was an innocent man. And you killed him because of your stupid detour. This ends. Now. We have one more server to bring down and then it’s over. You can have the injection that will cure your precious boy and I will be gone. If not,” he jerked his head back towards Joseph’s body which lie in a pool of crimson. “More of this.”
Matt shut his eyes against the insanity. Somewhere inside, he knew that John would keep killing. This night needed to end and he was the only one who could end it. Yet, if he were the bargaining chip, then he was not finished negotiating.
He glared back at John. “I’ll go.”
“How sensible of you.”
“On one condition.”
“Certainly, you do not think you are in a position to negotiate.”
“I want the antidote for Luke now.”
John shook his head. “Afraid not.”
“Then how do I know you’re not bluffing?”
“You do not.”
Matt nodded, as if expecting this. “Luke, go sit in the car.” Luke scampered towards the Porsche, John’s eyes tracking him.
“You made the right decision,” John said. He noticed that Matt was inching backwards. “What are you doing?”
Matt did not answer, extending his arms out from his sides. His feet now hugged the edges of the cliff. Waves pounded against the jagged rocks thirty feet below him.
“Give him the antidote or I jump,” Matt said.
“Now who is bluffing?” John countered.
Matt responded by adjusting his heels so that they hung over the edge. Pebbles skittered in their wake, falling down the steep drop. “If I die, you can’t complete yo
ur mission.”
“I can cut off your hand after you fall.”
“If you could do that, you would have done it hours ago. You and I both know you need live body heat for the finger scan to work. Another layer of security.” He scooted back. “Clock is ticking, John.”
“You would die and leave your son alone?”
“Why not? He’ll be dead soon anyway, thanks to you.”
Matt could see that had gotten through to John. The wheels inside the murderer’s head were practically visible to him.
At last, John reached into his pocket. He withdrew a small glass vial filled with an amber liquid. “Fine. Here it is.” He tossed it towards Matt who snatched it from the air as he stepped off his small ledge. Rushing to the car, he ripped off the plastic covering of the needle.
“Luke, give me your arm.” Luke did as instructed, proffering his vein. Matt jabbed it in and depressed the plunger. He waited for any sign of a negative response but there was none. After a minute, Luke looked up at him with clear eyes.
“I think I’m okay, Dad.”
Matt reached for him but was pulled backwards. “Time to go,” John’s voice said behind him. He was thrown to the ground towards the police car.
“Luke,” Matt started to say as he started to get up. Before he could react, John’s black boot caught him in the cheek, sending him back down again. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth as his vision blurred.
“The time for talking is over,” John said, hooking his hands beneath Matt’s arms and dragging him to the car. He tossed him in the passenger side, then climbed in behind the wheel.
Matt’s head cleared for a moment to look at John. “Ironic how you wanted to save Luke’s life,” John sneered. “When he will be dead soon anyway.”
Matt was about to respond when John slammed the butt of his gun into his forehead. There were no more things to wonder about. His world was a sea of blackness.
