by David Beers
“I’m going to tell him to come get us.”
“How?”
“Ten seconds!” someone shouted from across the room.
“I’m going to mention a name from when he was younger. He’ll know what it means.” Even if I don’t.
“5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … You’re on.”
Noise filled Christian’s ear, though he couldn’t see who was speaking. He pictured the man in his mind—Al Cunningham who anchored this nightly news show.
“Now we have FBI Agent Christian Windsor with us for an exclusive interview. Special Agent Windsor, if I’m correct, you were just released from the hospital a few days ago?”
Christian felt a momentary panic grab him. His old self rearing up and wanting to shut down completely. He swallowed, a second or so passing in silence. The other’s bloody face came to his mind and he found focus in it. “Yes, sir. That’s correct.”
“We’re all very sorry to hear what happened to you, but happy for your recovery. Would I be correct to state your former partner, Luke Titan, was responsible for what happened to you?”
“In a way, yes. Titan wasn’t our original kidnapper, but it all stemmed from him.”
“And I know there are certain things you can’t talk about in an active investigation, but is Luke Titan still at large?”
“Yes, Al, I can tell you that,” Christian said. It wasn’t time yet, but the interviewer understood what needed to happen. He’d been given a script and was following it perfectly, leading Christian to where they needed to go.
“Titan has caused a tremendous amount of death and destruction over the past few weeks, and all of us here at CNN would like to extend our deepest condolences to the family and friends who have lost someone. Is there anything you’d like to say to the American people right now regarding the attacks perpetrated over the past month?”
“Yes, Al. I’d like to let the American people understand that new leads have come in and while I can’t discuss the details, I feel confident in saying that we’ve never been closer to catching Luke Titan. I spoke with my boss before coming on, Jennifer Goodrow, who reports to the FBI Director, and she confirmed what I also believe: we will have Titan in custody very, very soon.”
“So you’re telling the American people that they can stop fearing the attacks that have been plaguing our nation?”
“Correct. We’re confident that everything we need to apprehend Titan is already here, already out in the open, and we want the American people to know that there’s nothing to worry about any longer.”
“Thank you so much for your time, Special Agent Windsor. I know that your schedule is packed and we won’t take up anymore of it. Again, very glad to see you out of the hospital.”
“Thank you, Al.”
The mic in his ear went dead and the cameraman was already moving the camera away. Someone walked up to Christian’s right side and started unhooking him.
“First time on television?” the lady asked.
“Yes, was it obvious?”
“Not at all. You did great.”
She gave him a smile and Christian thought she was telling the truth. He should thank the other next time he showed up.
She completely unhooked the wires from him. “There’s a break room over there if you three want something to drink. No alcohol—we’ve had problems with that and guests before—but there’s water and soda and such.”
“Thanks,” Christian said, smiling back at her. The first time he’d given a genuine smile since … well, he didn’t know when.
Waverly and Tommy came over as the woman left.
“There are sodas in that room over there,” Christian said, pointing behind them.
“Not too worried about sodas right now, Christian,” Waverly answered. “Though, I suppose it’s good to see some of your personality is still alive. How do you think it went?”
“Jennifer Goodrow,” Tommy whispered, “that’s the name?”
“That’s it.”
“What’s she mean to Luke?”
Christian paused and looked down at his shoes. He’d been thinking about his trip to Orlando and how he believed the endeavor was fruitless. Yet, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that his mind was saying something. Doing its best to shout it out above all the noise surrounding Christian.
He wasn’t sure about anything, but was beginning to think his mind hadn’t been misfiring.
“I think she might mean a choice.”
The animal stood 50 feet from Christian Windsor and the other two FBI employees. He knew who the other two were, but barely considered them—not even the Director.
Windsor was the important one.
The animal had been following him for the last few days; he’d slept very few hours, but he felt fine. Getting inside CNN’s office had been a bit of a challenge, especially making his way up to the green room. No one had died which the animal supposed was a good thing. Death during a time like this would create undue pressure on him. He had press credentials, though the one’s specifically designed for CNN were a bit older.
Still, he’d managed to get up here, and now he was only a few feet from Windsor.
He didn’t like letting the man out of his sight, although sometimes he didn’t have any other options. The animal hadn’t been able to get inside his apartment yet, so when Windsor slept, the animal was mostly blind. He could watch the outside, but if Titan somehow slipped in, he would miss a large opportunity.
Now, though, he saw Windsor up close. The man was young, under 30, but his face was hardened. He reminded the animal of a lot of guys that he’d been in the military with. They all went to war with fresh faces, but they came back with lines and haunted eyes. That’s the person he saw in front of him.
He held no compassion for Windsor, only a better understanding of who he was following.
Titan had certainly shown this man how hard the world can be, and that it would destroy you if you let it.
The animal understood that as well.
Does the target know about the pink light?
The words floated through the animal’s head, but he wanted nothing to do with them. He didn’t want to consider the pink light. Not now. Not ever.
It didn’t matter if the target knew of the light anyway. He was going to die. The animal might admire what he’d done to this Windsor person, might see similarities in their focus … but in the end, he would die.
The animal had watched Christian’s half of the conversation, though he didn’t understand exactly what was said—or rather, what it meant. He knew the FBI hadn’t gone on television to actually speak with the American people. Coming here had served a very specific purpose for them.
The animal might not have known what Windsor’s words meant, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what was happening around him.
The two agents no longer had a security detail following them. They no longer hid inside the Director’s house, using secret cars and entrances to move around the city. They were, for all intents and purposes, making themselves available.
Briefly, the animal wondered if they knew he was watching them. He didn’t care if the Director mentioned their deal to the other two. Even if they did know he was here, he didn’t think the stunt was about him.
They were simply trying to lure the target from hiding. They were helping, even if they didn’t know it.
“There’s your former lover, Veronica,” Luke said.
Veronica sat in the chair to Luke’s left, both of them watching the television. They were in D.C., having traveled across the country days ago. Veronica spent her time in the hotel room, with a single hypnosis session each day to keep her company. Luke was starting to think he could spread the sessions out to every other day soon. Before long, they could stop with the hypnosis, because Veronica’s personality would be wiped away. Perhaps it could return one day, at least somewhat—but by that point, the woman Christian knew would no longer exist.
And who was on the t
elevision?
Christian himself.
Luke hadn’t been watching Christian closely, though he vaguely knew his former partner’s whereabouts. He had been keeping up with the news, though, out of boredom if nothing else.
Luke had been biding his time, both to continue Veronica’s mind wipe, as well as to determine the best way to make Christian complete his own transformation.
And now, Christian was on TV, talking about Luke. Or to Luke, as it appeared to be.
“I’ve spoken with my boss before coming on, Jennifer Goodrow, who reports to the FBI Director, and she confirmed what I also believe: we will have Titan in custody very, very soon.”
Luke’s mouth opened slightly, perhaps the first bit of surprise he’d ever shown when it came to Christian. He quickly closed his lips, gaining control over the slight emotion he revealed, but …
Jennifer Goodrow.
Clearly no Jennifer Goodrow separated Christian from Waverly at the FBI. Perhaps no Jennifer Goodrow worked at the FBI at all, in any capacity.
There had once been a Jennifer—a Jennie, though.
Years and years ago.
How does he know? Luke wondered. How can he possibly know about her?
Luke hadn’t considered her since perhaps his sophomore year in college. He remembered her now, though, and the red dots and lines that he saw growing from her. He had no idea what happened to Jennie, not after the choice she made.
Choice … Does he know which way I’m leaning? Is he seeing my next move already?
A few years ago, Christian had made logical leaps that caused Luke to radically change his plans. He had killed two cops while sitting in the back of a police cruiser, then rushed over to Hinson’s house to put a knife through Tommy’s neck.
All because Christian had figured things out too quickly.
“We’re confident that everything we need to apprehend Titan is already here, already out in the open …”
Luke stopped listening to the rest of the sentence.
This was a message to him, not the American people. Christian was speaking directly to Luke.
Everything we need … Out in the open.
“Veronica,” Luke said, “I think he’s telling me that I should go get him. I think he’s giving me exactly what I want.”
Veronica Lopez didn’t look over at him, but kept staring at the television as if no one had spoken.
Luke knew this to be a trap. They were setting him up.
But why? They were not so delusional as to think he wouldn’t see it for what it was.
“Are you challenging me, Christian? Is that what this is about?”
And Jennifer Goodrow? What did he know about her?
For the first time in memory, Luke was baffled.
Two years ago, when Christian figured out more than he should have, Luke had to rush and perhaps mistakes were made because of it. He wouldn’t rush this time, not for Christian or anyone else. Instead, he took his time.
He looked up Jennifer Goodrow, and found where she lived.
Luke would have preferred to fly, but it was too dangerous, so he and Veronica drove. It took them two days, but again, Luke was in no hurry.
He left Veronica in the hotel room when he went to find Jennie. They finished a lengthy hypnosis session before he left, ensuring that if he needed to stay out longer than expected, Veronica wouldn’t have any issues.
Christian may have created some confusion with the mention of this name, but Luke was in control again, and that’s the way he wanted to keep it.
Luke had Veronica, and regardless what Christian did, he would play the game as Luke wanted.
He stepped into the bar and immediately understood much of what had happened to Jennie Goodrow. The place was dark, even at two in the afternoon. The air conditioning inside the establishment was weak, but still cooler than the heat outside. Luke was wearing a baseball cap and jeans, exactly like he’d worn when meeting Twaller for the first time. He’d grown his beard slightly.
This is how the woman had turned out? The pretty girl that approached him on the sunny day at Harvard? A bartender for this establishment?
Luke had followed Jennie’s progression for a few years after their little rendezvous, and he’d seen her begin to fall, but even he hadn’t imagined it would turn into this.
He sat down at a table against the wall, a high-top with two stools on either side. The tabletop was wood and a menu sat between the salt shaker and napkin holder. Luke picked it up and glanced over the offerings despite the dim lighting.
Luke had done well in choosing how to get to Jennie. Obviously. He wondered if she had ever made the connection between then and now, understanding that what he’d done with her roommate set everything in motion for her to end up here. Jennie was a smart woman, or at least she had been—he didn’t know if she’d spent the past two decades destroying herself with drugs … though, that was a strong possibility given her surroundings.
Luke watched as the woman walked from behind the bar and down the aisle of tables. Luke’s eyes saw her almost perfectly, the darkness not limiting his vision. She was still pretty, though her choices were clearly adding up on both her face and body.
Choices, Luke thought, slightly amused
He’d given her the first one, and just as he thought, she’d never been able to choose again. That first choice had been all she ever needed to make. And he had given Christian a choice as well, the war or those he loved. Luke would give him another one very soon.
Luke didn’t take his sunglasses off as she reached the table.
“Hey, how are you?” Jennie Goodrow asked.
“I’m doing okay.”
“Know what you want, or need a minute? Think you’ll order food? If so, I’ll let the cook know to preheat the grill. It’s still early and I doubt he’s done it yet.”
She didn’t recognize him. At this point, Luke knew he could walk out of here and this woman would continue living, but … Well, her life wasn’t amounting to much anyway. He’d probably be granting mercy by ending it.
“Sit down, Jennie,” Luke said.
Silence draped over them like a smallpox blanket as the woman finally recognized his voice. Some synapse firing deep in her brain, alerting her to the man she knew all those years ago—letting her see that he sat right in front of her. The music still played in the back, a country singer talking about his friends in low places, but Luke knew this woman was only focused on him.
“Why are you here?” her voice shook as she spoke.
“I came to see you.”
“You’re insane,” she said, and Luke knew she hadn’t considered the words before they left her mouth. Fear crossed her face as she realized what she just said.
“You watch the news, I take it.”
“Please leave.”
Tears were in her eyes and her hands shook the same as her voice.
“Has an FBI agent been to see you, Jennie? It’s important that you tell me the truth.”
“I duh-don’t … I don’t want to have anything to do with you. I don’t even fucking know you. Why are you here?” The last word came out as a harsh whisper.
“So he did come. Was he alone?”
She said nothing and a tear fell from her eye.
“He was?”
Jennie nodded.
“Do you want to know why this is happening, Jennie? I know you don’t want it to be, but it is, so I can at least help you understand the reason.”
She shook her head. No.
“You’re sure?”
She nodded.
“And you want out of this, right?”
Another nod.
“Sit down.”
Jennie did what he said, his words taking control over her. She didn’t want to be around him, or the FBI agent, or anyone else—but she sat down at the table anyway.
“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not, Jennie. I feel like I’ve had to tell so many people that lately, it’s a bit ridiculous. I suppose th
at’s Christian’s fault. Before him I didn’t have to do a lot of explaining, but the man is simply smart.” Luke smiled. “However, you are a part of something bigger. You always have been, Jennie, and you’ve simply rejoined that purpose, okay?”
The woman said nothing. Tears continued dripping down her face and she stared forward with wide eyes.
Luke’s gun flashed out nearly faster than eyes could follow. The bullet slammed into her skull, the silencer leaving no sound. Her head tilted forward, looking like it was going to hit the table and create the first hint of noise. Luke reached out, his hand snapping through the air like a serpent, and caught her face before it touched the wood.
He slowly let her head down onto the table.
Luke pulled his hand away, then wiped away the blood with a napkin.
He sat at the table for a few minutes, looking out over the dark bar, and thought. He wasn’t concerned with the cook in the back coming out, or anyone else entering, either.
He was concerned with Christian knowing this woman’s name, and having come here.
Luke’s plan was simple, though delicate. Like an octopus, he needed his tentacles completely wrapped around Christian for this to work. Yet, the plan could easily be damaged if Christian understood … and embraced it. That was the key part—Christian embracing it and turning it to his own.
If he understood, and then embraced what Luke wanted, he could avoid the snare.
He invited you to come get him. Does he know that you were already coming? Does he know what you plan to do, give him another choice—a more direct one? Is this his way of stopping it? By simply welcoming it?
Luke didn’t know. He couldn’t. He didn’t have that single, yet powerful, ability Christian did; the one which allowed him to see into other people’s lives—to know what they thought and why they thought it.
Christian’s head, from this far away, was a mystery to Luke.
He wants me to come, though. Why not give him what he wants?
Chapter 18
