by Jim Heskett
Layne bit his lip as he helped Harry to his feet. These people always seemed a step ahead of him, and he didn’t know what to do about that.
21
Layne sat in the parking lot at Hillcrest, debating whether he should enter the building. The main reason he wanted to would be to conduct a temperature check. To see if Jonah's absence for the second straight day had caused more of a stir than it had the day before. Also, perhaps, to look Farhad in the eye and see if he would give anything away. To see if he might give a clue about where Jonah had been taken. Layne had a suspicion, but he wanted to see if Farhad was here, to know for sure.
Not to mention he hadn’t spoken to Mariana since sleeping with her the night before. Or, that he was still supposed to be observing as part of his job interview process, although he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up that charade. No matter how well Control had faked his background, no cover story could last forever.
He opened the door and stepped out of the car. A little frazzled, a moderate amount of adrenaline still pumping through him since finding Harry unconscious in the hotel room. He hadn’t wanted to drop Harry off with Inessa and Cameron, but it seemed like a better option than leaving him alone at the Best Western, and he couldn’t bring him to Hillcrest like some sort of grownup show-and-tell.
Layne entered the building, and, right away, a couple of people greeted him. He was early for the weekly all-staff meeting, so he headed for the ground floor break room to obtain coffee. It was next door to the staff meeting room. Inside, he found most of the staff milling about, making small talk, drinking coffee and choosing donuts from the boxes on the tables. He heard names of patients he recognized floating about in casual conversation, as people—perhaps unethically—discussed the details of group and individual therapy sessions.
A finger tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see Mariana smiling up at him. “Hey there, Louie,” she said. She was radiant this morning in a purple sweater and gray jeans. Matching purple lipstick.
“Morning. Did I miss all the good donuts?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You eat donuts?”
“On a cheat day, sure.”
“That’s what I figured. You’re probably a baked chicken and brown rice sort of person most days of the week, right?”
“That sounds about right.”
“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep on doing it. It’s working.”
She glanced down at his arms as he stood there. He wasn’t flaunting his muscles in his baggy button-down shirt purchased from the Mt. Shasta Mall two days ago. Still, she gave one of his biceps a quick pinch.
Layne wasn’t quite sure how to react. He assumed, after their date last night, that Mariana might want to refrain from any public displays of affection. Hillcrest had a relatively small staff, and he knew how the grapevine worked in a place like this. Just like high school, rumors would fly hard and fast. But, if she wanted to act flirty, that was her choice. Layne was in uncharted territory in a situation like this. She still thought his name was Louie Pastori.
Layne had slept with women who didn’t know his name. But, he couldn’t ever recall sleeping with a woman who believed his name was something other than Layne Parrish. Still, it did no good to wallow in guilt.
“You’re not too shabby yourself,” he said in a low voice.
She gave him a polite laugh and then turned when something smacked against the door to make a loud thudding sound. The nightstick attached to the belt of the stoic security guard Ronnie. He and one other man were flanking Kelly Krafft-Jones, the administrator who had given Layne his initial interview. They were standing in the doorway, eyes shooting lasers at Layne.
Layne knew right away what was happening. No words needed to be said, but a livid Kelly opened her mouth anyway.
“Mr. Pastori, can you come with us, please?”
Mariana took a step to the left, putting herself between Layne and the trio glaring at him. “What’s going on here? Kelly, what are you doing?”
“Mariana, step aside. We have to speak to Louis. There are some serious inconsistencies that need to be accounted for.”
“Why?” Mariana asked. All around them, the conversations in the room died down as an increasing number of eyes attuned to the situation.
Kelly frowned, flustered. “Because this man isn’t who he says he is.”
Mariana turned around and looked up at him, her eyes searching Layne’s face. She seemed upset, but not surprised. “What is she talking about?”
“Kelly?” asked the voice of Farhad, now standing at the other end of the break room. He was wearing a spandex cycling outfit, with the Styrofoam helmet still clipped under his chin. “What’s going on here?”
Kelly pointed a finger at Layne, her entire arm shaking. “This man is a fraud, Mr. Jahandar. You won’t believe what we uncovered.”
Layne noted the disappointment in Farhad’s eyes and Layne could read a flood of info all in that singular look. Farhad had already discovered Layne’s real identity, but it hadn’t been him who had alerted Security. Somehow, Kelly had figured it out independently and had unintentionally usurped Farhad’s own plans about what to do with that information.
Farhad hadn’t wanted this situation to unfold this way, no doubt about it. Layne could see as much in Farhad’s knitted brow.
“Don’t bother with security,” Farhad said, frowning.
Layne gave Mariana a sad smile. “Sorry about this. We’ll talk later.”
With that, he ducked past her. He had to make a quick choice. There were two exits to the room, one blocked by Farhad, the other by Kelly and the two security guards. Layne chose the security guards. As he ran, Ronnie took a couple steps forward, leaving a space open. Layne faked left, causing the other security guard to move, widening the space in front of the door. Eighteen inches of open lanes on either side of her.
Then, he ducked back right and leaped toward the door. Kelly Krafft-Jones stood in place, hands over her face, screaming in terror. Like a shrieking statue.
Layne rushed past her, out into the hall, and then toward the front door. He didn’t know how they’d done it, but his cover as Louie Pastori had been blown a lot sooner than he’d hoped. His free access to Hillcrest was now over.
“Get back here, you son of a bitch!” the hoarse Ronnie yelled, hustling down the hall. He ran with one hand on his nightstick, holding it in place. Coughing as he tried to pick up the pace.
As Layne fled out the front door, he turned to see Ronnie slowing, and then stopping, struggling to catch his breath. Hand on his chest. Layne hoped the old man wouldn’t have a heart attack after all this nonsense. He probably would be fine, though. Old curmudgeons like Ronnie only died out of spite, not natural causes.
Layne made it to his car well ahead of the other security guard. He wouldn’t catch up to Layne in time, so he started the engine and put the car into gear. No reason to worry about being caught here and taken to jail. Farhad would not allow them to call the cops.
This situation had become much more complicated than that.
As he put his foot on the gas, Layne saw Farhad standing in the window of one of the first-floor offices. Hands on his hips, his mouth even and neutral. But his eyes, they were full of fire.
22
Most of Harry’s head throbbed. Front, back, sides. He sat on the edge of a bed at the Redding Mountain Lodge. A little bruised, a little battered, but his pride had taken the biggest pummeling of all. He couldn’t stop beating himself up about letting the anonymous men take Jonah.
Harry had one job: protect Jonah. He’d failed. Maybe he didn’t have the skills or the physique to karate-chop whoever had attacked him, but he should have at least gotten a good look. Harry hadn’t. He had no idea who had invaded the room, kicked his ass, and disappeared with his friend.
At his feet on the floor, Cameron Parrish played with LEGO blocks, assembling some contraption out of mostly pink and brown pieces. She chatted with herself as she did so, transfi
xed on those little plastic building blocks.
Compared to the last time Harry had seen her, the girl was gigantic. Beyond a toddler now, more like a little girl. She could speak in full sentences and carry on a regular conversation. Crazy. It made Harry miss his boy at that age. There was something so beautiful about the way a young person viewed the world. The sudden extremes of joy a child could experience, the wonder at all the newness of everything life had to offer.
At the sink next to the bathroom, Inessa applied makeup. In a hotel robe, a towel wrapped around her head. Harry had forgotten how tall she was. Like a giant. Also, she had near-perfect posture, seemingly all the time. He had no idea how a human could accomplish such a feat.
“How long have you been in town?” Inessa asked. Her Russian accent hadn't softened at all in the years she'd lived in this country.
“A couple days. Layne asked me to help with something he’s got going on.”
She paused and craned her neck to look at him. Her face was sharp, symmetrical, unforgiving. “I am sure I don't want to know what you are helping him with.”
“No, you probably don't.”
“Are you like my ex-husband? Thinking you are retired but constantly jumping back to that life?”
Harry shook his head. “No, I never retired. Still work for the team, for the same boss as always. Same old life for me as it has been since college.”
Cameron held up a cluster of LEGOs at Harry, beaming. “Lookit.”
“That's amazing. What is it?”
“It's a spaceship.”
“That's the best spaceship I've ever seen.”
Cameron grinned and went back to work, improving her spaceship. More muted chatter, more clacking of plastic pieces as she jammed them together.
“She likes you,” Inessa said.
“I like her, too. I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for the little ones. It’s such a cliché that it seems like there’s no point in saying it, but they do grow up so soon. Time doesn’t move faster, but all the days blend together. Good, bad, all a big mess of memory. Try whatever you can to hold on to the moments and make them last, but it doesn’t work. Not really. You turn around, and they’re going off to school, going on sleepovers with friends, going away to camp. My boy is going to test for his driver's license in a few years. Blows my mind.”
“Does your son know what you do for a living?”
Harry had been watching Cameron play, but now he looked up at Inessa. Her cutting Russian tone was hard to read. He thought it might have been accusatory, but he could see in her face she was genuinely curious. She’d even turned her body fully to face him.
Her curiosity made sense. Back when the team was in full swing, they never had a spouses club like he’d heard astronauts had. The wives never got together to drink and play cards while their husbands went off to Nigeria to assassinate some problematic warlord.
“My boy knows I work for the government. He knows I work with computers, and I do stuff that helps other people do their jobs and keeps them safe. That’s all true.”
“And it’s not the whole story, which I would expect. What about your wife?”
“I don’t keep things from my wife. She knows a lot, but she also knows better than to ask about details. And she’s okay with what I do. You and Layne weren’t… sorry, it’s none of my business.”
She unspooled the towel from her hair, letting a long mop of damp blonde locks spill over her shoulders. “Go ahead, Harry. You can ask.”
“How much did you know about what Layne did?”
She shrugged. “I knew enough to know I didn’t like it. He and I met at the end of his career. But there was always one last job. Always one more operation for him to go on, and he always had reasons why he could not skip that one.”
“Our boss can be persuasive.”
“Yes. Daphne. Control.”
The way Inessa’s upper lip had curled when she said the word Daphne almost sent a shudder through Harry. Inessa probably knew Layne and Daphne had a thing before he started dating Inessa. Hell, just about everyone in Washington knew about it. But, as far as Harry knew, all that stopped when Inessa entered Layne’s life. Maybe she didn’t believe it had.
“Layne wanted out for a while before he left,” Harry said. “You helped him see that, I think.”
“But he’s not exactly out yet, is he?” She took a frustrated breath and crossed her arms. “A few days ago, Layne said something about a person named ’Jonah.’”
“He did?”
“I am sure he did not mean for me to hear it. But,” she paused, appearing to consider her words. “Is that Jonah… Bramble?”
Harry cleared his throat. “You know the name?”
Her lips twitched for a second, then she resumed applying her makeup. “I do. Layne introduced us years ago, a few weeks before he retired. Anyway, it is none of my business.”
She pulled her hair into a knot on top of her head and then took off the robe. Underneath, she was wearing a slinky black dress, highlighting every twist and turn of her figure. Harry tried not to stare, but that turned out to be a challenge.
“You are welcome to stay here while you are recuperating. Cameron will come with me because I have a photo shoot.” She clapped her hands twice to get Cameron’s attention.
“I appreciate that,” Harry said. Part of him wanted Cameron to stay behind so he could have an excuse to play with LEGOs for an hour or two. But, he knew he was too groggy and tired to look after a young child.
Inessa smiled, which completely transformed her face from menacing to soft. Like a whole other person. Maybe that was why she was a model, how she could switch from one emotion to another with a subtle change of her lips. “It is good to see you again, Harry Boukadakis.”
“You too, Inessa.”
Their conversation ceased as she helped Cameron put on her jacket.
23
Layne checked the GPS on his phone against the location indicated on the paper he'd taken from the safe in Farhad’s office. Deep in the woods of Castle Crags State Park. Around him, the spiky peaks looked like a giant had taken a sledgehammer to a uniform mountain range and left only jagged pieces behind. Cool air meandered through the trees, higher now in elevation than in the town of Redding. It made Layne miss camping. That was a hobby he hadn’t been able to indulge in quite a while. Maybe when this was all over, he’d take a couple months and do a car camping tour of western national parks.
Then again, Layne had promised himself he would do that exact same thing for the last two years.
Wheel ruts in the dried mud led him up a hill, closer and closer to the specified coordinates. He saw the cabin ahead, nestled in a deep cluster of lanky fir trees. Wooden logs cemented in place. About a thousand square feet, a dormant chimney jutting from the sloped roof. Windows blacked out with newspapers. Definitely the sort of place you wouldn’t ever find unless you were looking for it.
How Farhad had kept a private residence on government land, Layne didn’t know. A lease, something grandfathered in? Probably didn’t matter. Only the potential of what could be inside that cabin mattered now.
Layne approached from the side, careful to keep low and avoid making noise. Fortunately for him, a misty fog this morning had left the ground leaves wet, masking his approach. No telling what he would find closer to the house. The dense trees in the area had blown any chance to get aerial surveillance, a fact Farhad had probably been well aware of.
When Layne could see the front porch, he noted the guard. Just one. In a rocking chair, a gargantuan white guy sat, rocking back and forth. Shotgun across his lap. And, just below his left ear, a little triangular tattoo on his neck stood out. Layne squinted to see if he could recognize the mark, but it didn’t look like anything he’d seen before. Definitely distinctive.
Layne paused his approach, looking for an alternate entrance to the cabin. He didn't expect to find one, and wasn't surprised when he didn’t. He cut north until he could see there was
no back door. Of course, he could go for one of those windows, but he had no idea what additional guards he might find on the other side. No, the best plan would be to subdue the one out front and ask him a few questions. But, it had to be quiet.
Layne didn’t like going it alone. Not when up against an unknown threat. But, with whatever Jonah had been telling Farhad still up for grabs, it wasn’t smart to call in the locals or even the feds. Not yet, at least. Not until it was necessary and he could be sure there was a way to keep government secrets out of the public knowledge.
Layne circled back to the other side since the guard was facing a little to the north, at a slight angle. There wasn’t a way to approach him directly from the back because of a railing around the porch, but coming from the south side might work. His best bet was to chuck a rock in an arc, so it landed to the north, making the guard turn his head to the right. With any luck, he would instinctively look to where the rock had landed, not where it might have come from.
Then, a quick approach from the south, wrap up the guard in a sleeper hold. If Layne could pull the guy out of the rocking chair, maybe he wouldn’t have a chance to grip the shotgun, and it would fall to the porch.
Either way, a gamble. One loud noise could alert whoever was inside.
Layne found a rock about the size of his palm. If he could peg a tree, it might make a nice thump, but not loud enough to attract attention beyond a small radius. He reared back to throw it. Had to be high enough the guard wouldn’t see it, only hear it.
Layne let it go. As soon as he did, he took off, hoping to position himself within striking distance a split second after it landed. But, as soon as Layne went in motion, a hawk perched in a tree to the south cawed.
The guard’s head jerked left, his eyes landing directly on Layne.
Layne had to make a split second decision. He pushed forward, running as fast as he could. The rock thunked against the tree, but it was a little too late now to divert the guard’s attention.
