by Brian Meeks
Henry remembered that the Major had listened to the question. He was too professional to dismiss it out of hand but assured everyone the plan was well thought out. The two main battalions would arrive at Cisterna as planned. The meeting broke up and everyone returned to their squads.
Henry couldn’t recall much between the meeting and the start of the battle, but, when reports started to filter in that the main group had not arrived under the cover of darkness, the major gave Henry a dirty look. Two battalions and the 3rd Reconnaissance Troop had been caught on open ground and came under attack from the 715th Motorized Infantry Division and Herman Goring’s Panzer Division.
The major’s plan for taking and holding Cisterna had been a failure. Henry’s squad was cut off from the main group, and the fierce fighting depleted most of their ammunition. As the day wore on, Henry had managed to steer his men into a spot where they could defend themselves. Henry knew the 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment was somewhere out there, as was the 7th Infantry, but from their spot he could only see Germans.
Mike asked Henry something. When Henry didn’t respond, Mike said, “Hey, buddy, you all right?”
“Oh, sorry. I was thinking.”
“About the next puzzle? We’re only a few blocks from your office.”
“No, I was trying to remember some stuff from the war.”
“I was meaning to ask - what’s the major’s beef with you?”
“That’s a good question,” Henry sighed. “I’m not sure. I barely knew him. For me, the war ended almost immediately after I arrived.”
“You never talk about it.”
“It was a bad time.”
“I’m sure, but if you can figure out why he’s playing this game, it...”
“I know.”
There was a few blocks of silence before Mike stopped the car behind a patrol car at the corner. They both made quick work of the steps and hurried down the hall to the office. There were voices inside...very excited voices.
CHAPTER 78
Associate 2 and 3 sat alone with their thoughts. Neither could make sense of what they had seen.
3 stood up and shook his head. “Why would Henry Wood be getting in the director’s car?”
“There wasn’t anything in the paper. If they had killed him, it would have been newsworthy. Maybe the director is using him as bait to find us?”
“What if the contract was called off?”
“How many times did they make you repeat the motto, ‘No Mercy, No Stopping, No Refunds? ‘“
“I know, but has the client ever been killed before the job was done?”
“I doubt it.”
“If it were called off, maybe all we need to do is check in and everything would be okay.”
“Did you ever hear the story about Associate 17?”
3 thought about it and shook his head no.
“17 was the partner of my last partner before I came on board. They were working out of Cairo, and a job came in to eliminate a local politician in Barcelona. The trip was fine until they reached the Balearic Sea. An unexpected storm made the last of the journey a bit rough. Associate 17 was terribly seasick, but he didn’t complain. They both set off to meet their contact with the details of the job.
The next morning, 17 went to the mark’s residence. It was supposed to be simple; he lived alone and was unmarried. My former partner was his back-up and trailed behind him, watching for anyone who might cause problems or be a witness. It was early in the morning, and the streets were mostly empty except for a few locals heading into the market.
My partner watched as 17 knocked on the door and saw it swing open. He could hear yelling coming from the house. Then a shot rang out. My partner said 17 was still standing in the doorway when it all went down. A man rushed out of the house waving a pistol and screaming something in Spanish. It wasn’t their mark, so 17 went inside and found the politician dead on the kitchen floor.
The next day the papers recounted the story of a jealous husband who had learned that his wife was having an affair with their target. He had been caught and admitted to the whole affair.”
“So what was the big deal? He was dead.”
“Wait, there is more to the story.”
Associate 3 got up, grabbed an apple, and sat back down to hear the rest.
“My partner and 17 returned to Cairo thinking the matter was settled. They filed their report and included the article from the paper. The next day, they were called in to speak with the director. He offered them both some tea, then explained that the point of the contract was to send a message to the real target of their operations. As he was explaining the details of the ‘big picture,’ 17 started to cough. A few seconds later, he was dead. The director said, ‘A clever agent would have simply fired a number of rounds into the corpse, then set the place on fire. We will be assigning you to a new agent forthwith.’”
Associate 3 had a grim look on his face as he tossed the apple core into the waste basket. “So you think the only way out of this is to finish the job.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”
“Then why are we waiting around? I’ve had enough of the planning, hiding, and bullshit. Let’s do what 17 should have done. Let’s go to his office, walk in, and pop him. If the secretary is there, we’ll get her, too. I’m sick of all of this.”
Associate 2 didn’t like the idea of such a brazen assault, but he couldn’t argue with the sentiment. He was sick of it, too. He grabbed a gun and said, “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 79
The Major walked through the halls of the east wing of the house. Most of the house was unused. His bedroom was comfortable with a large Victorian four-poster bed, matching dressing table, and armoire. At the other end of the house was a vast library, complete with a bookcase that slid away revealing a stone staircase that descended deep underground.
The previous owner had been a recluse who made his fortune as a speculator. The house was built by a man who lived over half his life crippled by paranoia that rivals were out to get him. He died under suspicious circumstances. His office suited the Major.
The walls were covered with maps of Manhattan and Brooklyn. Red pins marked all of Henry's favorite haunts. A table in the center of the room held nine stacks of papers in a three-by-three square. Each page was handwritten. The top left stack, or as the Major thought of it, Chapter 1, was a detailed description of the night Henry Wood ignored his orders and how it had ruined his career and life. The next chapter detailed the life Henry had led since the war. The rest were carefully planned out operations designed to inflict the same emotional damage he had felt. The ninth pile contained his masterpiece.
The major had read it countless times and could recite it verbatim, but still, he carefully pulled off a large section of pages and found the analysis for tonight's clue. Everything had gone to plan with the exception of lieutenant being caught, but he put that wrinkle down to incompetence on the part of his subordinate.
Though he was disappointed each time Henry solved one of the puzzles, he had planned accordingly and predicted Henry's every move. Tonight's test had two lines. One would be carried out by a man he had hired from southern New Jersey; the other would only be implemented if Henry found the tile.
The major lit a cigarette and read both lines again. He didn't really want to see someone killed, but if Henry failed, it would be worth it. He could imagine the torment and sleepless nights that Henry would suffer. The major pictured Henry crawling back into a bottle and descending into the same hell he had felt after that terrible night during the war.. Should Henry succeed in solving the first line, the next package would be delivered in the middle of the night and have an 8:30 am deadline.
He settled into his chair and waited for the phone to ring.
* * *
The clues were more obscure than before. Henry read the letter out loud so that everyone could hear. The office seemed a bit cramped with everyone hovering around the desk. Mike st
ood to Henry’s right, with Carol peering around him at the box, transfixed. Luna, Bobby, and Celine looked at the box’s contents while Henry read:
The world watches, sometimes wood, others ice, but always with great interest. The clock ticks, and all eyes are watching. Will someone take the shot, will there be victory or heartache, will a dream die, or will the game continue? The tile is hidden in plain sight. It’s the trophy, and, if you find it, one lucky fan will get to go home tonight. If not, well, then, that’s on you. I’ve included a map to help you win the day...if you are clever enough.
Henry pulled from the box a road map.
Luna, with a look of puzzle solving on her face, said, “He is a sick bastard.” She blushed. “Sorry...”
Celine said, “He is a bastard, I agree.”
Bobby, with his normal fidgeting and exuberance said, “What’s on the map? I’m good with maps, I know this city like the back of my hand. There is a whole secret web of underground tunnels, I bet I can help with this clue. Let’s see it, Henry. I can call my friends, too. How much time do we have left? We need to hurry. Like he said, the clock is ticking.”
Henry frowned. “I don’t know if we’re going to make it in time. How long does it take to get to Texas?”
Mike asked, “What?”
Henry opened the map and laid it across the desk. It was a standard road map that one could buy at any filling station. That is, if one were in the Lone Star State.
Bobby bent over the desk and brushed his fingers across the paper. “There must be something written on it. Maybe it’s in invisible ink? I’ll go get my black light.” He ran out of the office and down the hall.
Luna asked, “Is there anything written on the other side?”
Henry held it up. “It doesn’t look like it.”
Celine took the map from Henry and looked at both sides. She held it up to the light, but it appeared to be just a map. Buttons hopped up on the desk and pushed his head under the map with a meow. She patted him on the head and said, “Not now, Buttons, we’re trying to solve a puzzle.”
Buttons, offended, hopped off the desk, and rubbed against Henry’s leg. Henry reached down and picked up the cat. “She didn’t mean anything by that. If you have an idea, we’ll gladly take the help.” Buttons purred but offered no further assistance.
Celine laid the map back on the desk as Bobby stormed back into the room. He held a black light and said, “If there is a secret message, this little baby will do the trick.” He plugged it in and flipped the light switch on the wall. “Everyone ready?”
They were but didn’t say so. Encouraging Bobby might lead to a lengthy chat about the origin of invisible ink, and they didn’t have time for that. Bobby held the light over the map. It revealed nothing.
Luna, hearing the disappointed exhale from Bobby, said, “Let’s check the other side.”
Bobby flipped the map over with a one-handed flourish. He turned the office lights back on and said, “Sorry, Henry, no secret message.”
“It was a good idea. Definitely worth checking out.”
Mike looked at his watch. “We’ve got ninety minutes before somebody gets killed. Anybody have any ideas?”
Everyone but Henry started throwing out places. Henry stood with Buttons and just listened. The ideas were rather random as panic began to set in. Somebody suggested the Statue of Liberty, and another said Union Station and then MOMA, but none of the places fit the clues in the letter or had anything to do with Texas.
Mike picked up the phone and called the station, he simply asked for a squad car to pick him up at the Flatiron building, and to wait until he came down. He hung up and said, “When we decide where to look, we’ll need to get there fast.”
Quiet had come over the room. Henry said, “This one has me stumped. The map and the letter seem unconnected.”
“Meooow,” Buttons said and leapt onto the map. He stretched and curled up across the “AS” in “TEXAS”.
Carol said, “He sure likes the map. Maybe you should have named him Tex, Celine?”
Celine wasn’t enjoying Buttons’ help and looked annoyed. She reached to grab Buttons, but Henry said, “Wait!”
Celine froze. Everyone looked at Henry and he stood over the map, gently petting Buttons, “Tex” He said it again, “Tex” and then announced, “I’ve got it!”
Buttons said, “Meow”, rather loudly.
“Correction, Buttons figured it out, but now I get it, too.”
Buttons hopped off the desk and wandered off to find a post-puzzle solving spot to nap. His work was done.
Henry grabbed his hat and ran out of the office. “Follow me. We’ve got to hurry!”
Everyone ran after Henry to the curb just as the squad car arrived. Mike jumped in the front and said, “Carol, you sit up here with me.”
Carol said, “Okay.”
Henry, Luna, and Celine piled in the back and Henry said, “Just go straight. I’ll tell you where to turn.”
CHAPTER 80
The patrol car came to a halt between 49th and 50th Street. Henry told the driver to turn off the sirens as they got closer so as to avoid a spectacle.
Mike looked at his watch and announced, “We have less than ten minutes. I hope you are right.”
Henry said, “The clues talked of wood and ice, and basketball and hockey. Does anyone know who the owner of Madison Square Garden is?”
Bobby blurted, “Tex Rickard!”
Everyone looked impressed, but Henry threw a wet blanket on the moment. “Yes, but we don’t have much time to find the tile. We need to look everywhere. Carol, Bobby, and Celine, you three check around outside. Mike, Luna, and I will go in.”
Henry loved going to Madison Square Garden, because of his passion for sports, and he even saw Sonia Henie and her Hollywood Ice Review, back in 1938, though he didn’t care much for figure skating. Still, it was a good show. Now, running through the doors, Henry hoped they could find the tile in time. If someone died because they missed the deadline, it would haunt him forever.
* * *
A man, who appeared to be in his late fifties, but was actually much younger and wearing a grey wig, pushed a janitor’s cart. He had worked there for just over three weeks. The major had arranged for the position and paid him well to blend in and be ready for his task. It was simple, when the major called, he was to place the tile and keep an eye on it until the clock ran out. If the tile remained unclaimed, he was to remove it, and then find someone to kill. The janitor’s name tag read “Carl”.
Carl took his job seriously and had done his best to be unnoticeable. He did everything his boss, Mr. Collins, asked, but Mr. Collins was not a reasonable man and took far too much pleasure in being generally unpleasant to all his subordinates. Carl had endured the foul man by deciding early on that it would be Mr. Collins, who would get the bullet in the head. At least, that’s how he imagined it going down. He would walk into the little office, not much more than a closet really, and say, “I quit,” as he removed the gun from his cart. Carl knew that Mr. Collins liked to read spy novels and would recognize the silencer. Carl would raise the gun and pause to take in the moment that Mr. Collins realized he was about to die, and then, he would pull the trigger.
Now the time had almost come. He took out his spray bottle and cleaned the glass at the corner of the trophy case. The wooden tile, visible at the other end of the case, remained unclaimed. Carl was pleased. He pulled a fresh rag from the cart and continued to clean the glass, as he stole a peak at his watch. Only two more minutes and he would grab that tile and be off to complete his mission.
* * *
Henry hustled down the halls with Mike by his side. “There is only one place that makes sense to hide it. I know how the major thinks.”
Mike said, “I hope you are right because, if not, we’ve run out of time.”
Henry saw an old man picking up something and rushed up to him. “Hey, buddy, what did you find?”
“It’s nothing. I’m
just cleaning up,” Carl said, unsure if the final two minutes had completely run out.
Mike grabbed his arm. “This is police business, what’s in your hand?”
Carl knew he had better play dumb. “Relax. It’s just a Scrabble tile. We find junk all the time - watches, cuff links, all sorts of stuff.”
Mike took the tile and handed it to Henry as he asked, “Did you see who put it there?”
“No, I clean the glass every day I don’t pay attention to who makes the mess. I got to get back to work.” Carl started to push his cart away, his hand began to tremble so he shoved it into his pocket.
Henry and Mike looked at each other knowingly. Henry said, “Hey, slow up there, old man.”
Carl froze. He pulled the gun out of the cart and fired a shot that flew past Henry’s ear and shattered the trophy case glass. Mike and Henry both hit the floor. There wasn’t any place to hide.
Carl took off running, but not before sending another shot ricocheting off the floor. He darted down some stairs with a good head start. Mike pulled his revolver and gave chase. Henry was close on his heels. They slowed at the stairwell, and Mike gave a quick look. At the bottom of the stairs was a grey wig. Mike flew down the stairs. When he got to the bottom, no one was in sight.
They checked all the offices and found nothing but people working. Nobody had seen anyone strange running through the hall and it was apparent he had gotten away.
Henry looked at the tile and said, “That was a close one.”
Mike, disgusted with himself, said, “I should have pinned him against the wall and searched him right away, but...”
