by David Beers
A week passed. Christian and Tommy continued doing all they could to make themselves available to whoever might want them. They walked openly on the streets, leisurely even. They grocery shopped together as if they were a couple. They went into work, but didn’t spend long days there. They went in after nine and left before four.
It was, all in all, a decent life besides the fact they were hoping a killer would kidnap them.
Neither knew that two people were watching them.
One a psychopath without conscience, the other unable to be truly categorized given psychiatry’s limitations.
Both stared at Christian and Tommy all day, watching their movements the way a hawk might observe a small animal scurrying through a field. The two watched with hungry detachment—creating a focus that each would have recognized in the other.
They finally all met on a hot Saturday afternoon at the National Mall.
“I’m glad we’re here,” Tommy whispered. “This was a stupendous idea.”
Christian lay on the mall’s lawn, a blanket beneath him. His eyes were open and he stared up at the blue sky.
“You sound like me,” he said. “I used to complain all the time before I saw the futility in it all.”
“No, you used to say whatever came to your mind. We were all thinking it, we just never said it. Now the things that come to your mind are batshit insane, so it sounds less like complaining.”
“Either way, I think the point is you should quit bitching.” Christian closed his eyes and smiled at the joke, the first smile he’d formed in a while.
“Luke isn’t going to grab us at the National Mall, Christian. You would have to be delusional to even consider such a thing. Which you are.”
“Can’t you just enjoy being outside?”
“I would if I wasn’t sweating constantly, seeing my clothes sticking to my body.”
“Do you want me to blow on you?” Christian asked. “And please don’t interpret that as blow you. That’s not on the table.”
“Fuck off,” Tommy replied.
The two were silent for a while and Christian kept his eyes closed. He didn’t think Luke would come out today, either, but he did think Luke was watching them. Actually, Christian was sure of it. Luke saw them right now from some vantage point that Christian wouldn’t even try to find. It was enough knowing that Luke was going for the bait.
A week had passed, and each minute felt like a century for Christian. Each minute Veronica was with Luke meant she might meet her end. Christian had kept his face firm, though, not letting the world see his terror. Even now, smiling under the sun, his thoughts nearly crackled with electricity.
Constantly worried.
Constantly questioning his own mental stability.
Questioning this plan. This bait.
And what bait is that, Christian? You still haven’t figured out what your mansion was telling you. This may be bait, but you and Tommy are the bait—which means you’re going to be eaten.
The television in Christian’s mansion had shown nothing more over the past week. It was as if the thing was broken, the cable connection to Christian’s genius cut.
He didn’t mention any of this to Tommy, and certainly not to Waverly. They were going along with his plan, though he had no more insight into Luke’s plan than he did before concocting his own. They asked what he found out with Jennie Goodrow, and he told them what they needed to hear—or at least, needed to hear in order to keep this going.
He lied.
And then he lied by omission a few days later.
Because Jennie Goodrow was dead. Another person to add to his own body count, Christian supposed. Christian had continued monitoring Goodrow the best he could from Washington, and sure enough, the alert he created through the FBI’s persons’ watch system emailed him two days ago. She was found shot at her place of work, a bar, in an apparent robbery gone awry. Christian knew that wasn’t the case, though. There had been no robbery, nor had anything gone awry.
Luke simply arrived and did what he always did: set loose chaos.
So Christian got her killed by saying her name on national television.
And now Luke was watching him, just as Christian wanted.
A thought came, one he wasn’t even sure stemmed from his conscious mind, but it was there nonetheless.
How many more people are going to get killed?
As many as necessary.
Necessary for what? he wondered from his spot on the large lawn. For Luke to be apprehended? For Veronica to be saved? For him to lose his mind completely?
Christian was careful not to move too much on the blanket, his wounds were nearly healed, but not completely.
“Christian,” Tommy said, his voice still a whisper but the nervousness in it whipping through Christian’s thoughts. “Christian, get up.”
Christian opened his eyes, and despite the cuts across his body, sat up quickly.
“There. Over there.”
Tommy couldn’t point but his eyes never left what he saw.
“Where?” Christian said, rising on the blanket.
“Come here. Next to me, and look at what I’m looking at.”
Christian stood and walked to the side of Tommy’s chair.
“Is that her? Is that Veronica?”
Tommy couldn’t be sure, but while Christian had been sunbathing, his own eyes had been constantly searching the area. Tommy hadn’t thought Luke would show in such a populated place, but Tommy wouldn’t make mistakes because of that.
He’d spotted her.
Tan skin, long legs, dark brown hair. With the distance between them, it could have easily been someone else, but the woman had been staring at Tommy for the past five minutes. He hadn’t taken his eyes from her either, the two of them looking at one another as if there was nothing else to see on this massive field.
“Jesus Christ,” Christian said. “It’s her.”
“Don’t move,” Tommy said as loud as he possibly could. “Don’t you dare go to her.”
It was too late, though. Tommy knew the moment the words left his mouth that he never had a chance of holding Christian back.
Tommy Phillips was a saint in Luke’s eyes. Consistent as the constellations, he could always be counted on to do the right thing, even if it was the wrong move strategically.
Luke put Veronica out there on that lawn with a single instruction. Find a place where she could see them, and they could see her, then sit and wait.
Now Luke watched as Christian rushed across the field, his hands pumping like pistons, desperately wanting to get to the woman that he’d lost.
Tommy didn’t move, his paraplegia making him a nonparticipant, just as Luke wanted.
Luke stood a hundred feet off, his disguise making him unrecognizable. He’d been watching the two of them for days and was sure that the FBI wasn’t following as well. Waverly had given them wide latitude with this, allowing them to do as they wished, and that meant no extra agents.
It also meant the FBI was following them in some other way. They were allowing themselves to be taken, but not forever.
At least, that’s what they thought.
Luke started walking, the needle hidden up his sleeve sliding out into his palm.
Christian reached Veronica thirty seconds before Luke, dropping to his knees and looking into her blank face.
Luke stepped up behind him, and without a word, slammed his palm onto Christian’s neck. He watched his ex-partner try to spin around, a grimace across his face. His eyes caught Luke for a second, intelligence in them, saying they understood everything—both who was hurting his body and how badly he’d fucked up by rushing over.
The intelligence faded and Christian’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.
He started to collapse, but Luke swooped down and grabbed him, easily moving both of them to the bench beside Veronica. Luke sat Christian in between them, his head slumping some, but otherwise sitting up right. Luke looked across the lawn at
Tommy and smiled.
Then gave a wave.
The animal admired the way the man moved. The target swept in with the elegance of an ice skater, smashing some sort of tranquilizer into Windsor’s neck, and then before any bystander could tell what was happening, picked the agent up and sat him on the bench as if the two were old buddies just hanging out.
It was, from the distance the animal sat at, one of the finest attacks he’d ever witnessed.
He watched the target wave at the other FBI agent. Titan remained sitting for another second or two, most likely ensuring no one else on the lawn had seen what happened. The animal continued watching through his binoculars, knowing not a soul had noticed. He thought the target had performed perfectly.
It would be difficult for Titan to get the unconscious FBI agent out of the mall, though. How did he plan on accomplishing that?
And as if the target could read his thoughts, the woman on the bench stood and walked off. The animal followed her with his binoculars, watching her cross the lawn. She reached the other FBI agent, the one in the wheelchair, and then removed his hand from the small controller he used on the arm rest. After placing his hand in his lap, she pushed the chair to where the target sat.
The animal smiled for the first time since he’d been recruited for this job.
It was too perfect to not smile.
“Hello, Tommy,” Luke said.
Tommy stared at him but said nothing. He was sure that Veronica had been hypnotized. Luke had worked his black magic on her; she moved like a robot, and when she’d approached him moments before, she looked as if nothing was inside her. Her eyes and face empty, a robot programmed to do a job. She completed her assignment, and Tommy had stared forward as she wheeled him across the grass.
“You think you know what comes next, don’t you?” Luke asked. “You come out of the wheelchair and Christian here goes in it. You get to rest on this bench until someone comes by to help.”
Tommy raged but had no way to show it. He looked onward, finding no words to possibly describe what he felt inside.
“That’s not it, though. I didn’t come here for Christian. I came here for you,” Luke said, smiling. He looked nothing like himself, but then he wouldn’t, given what he needed to pull off. “Christian’s path to enlightenment is different than yours … Are you ready to reach enlightenment?”
“Fuck you,” Tommy said, the only words that might show some shred of his hatred.
“Rarely elegant, but always accurate. Let’s go then.”
Luke stood and carefully laid Christian down on the bench.
He stepped behind the wheelchair and Tommy watched as Luke wheeled him into the unknown.
The smile died on the animal’s face as he watched the target change what he thought had been a perfect plan. Titan left Windsor on the bench and walked off with the other agent, woman in tow beside him.
The animal didn’t put the binoculars down, though he was surprised by the unfolding events. His mind wouldn’t let him wander down the path of what the target might be thinking, however. The animal focused on what was, not what might be—or why they might be that way.
After he was sure of where they were heading, he stood, placing his backpack on. The animal knew which parking lot they would go to, as it was the only one on their path. The target would then put the agent in a vehicle and try disappearing again. The animal had no time to waste; he wouldn’t lose Titan.
The animal went to his vehicle and pulled out onto the street. It would take the target another five minutes to reach the parking deck. It would take the animal three to do the same.
Chapter 19
Luke reached the van relatively quickly.
“In the front seat, Veronica,” he said as he took Tommy to the side door. He opened it, then reached forward and pulled out the ramp for Tommy’s chair. “I rented this van especially for you, Tommy. You see, Christian thought I was coming for him, but that was never the case. It’s you and Veronica I want.”
He rolled Tommy’s chair up the ramp, latching it into the pre-made grooves.
“There. Nice and safe,” Luke said.
He closed the side door and went to the driver’s, opening it and sitting down. Veronica was already buckled next to him.
“You certainly would have made a great wife,” he said. Veronica was quiet as usual, staring out the front window.
“Veronica,” Tommy said from the back. “Can you hear me?”
“Of course she can. She isn’t deaf.” Luke put the van in reverse and started driving down the parking deck. “Though, I must say, she probably doesn’t want to speak to you. She hasn’t done much talking in quite some time.”
“Veronica, it’s okay. Christian is coming.”
Luke smiled as he turned a corner, the wheels squealing shrilly at the van’s speed. “Veronica and I are counting on that, Tommy. That’s the whole point.” Luke looked in the rearview mirror and caught his ex-partner’s eyes. “Don’t worry. You’re part in this is almost done. I promise.”
He kept his eyes on Tommy’s for another moment and then looked back at the parking deck. He came to the exit and stuck his pay stub in the meter. It gave him a total and Luke paid with cash before pulling out onto the street.
He saw the vehicle, but only a flash of it. A gray, steel thing that was coming at him much too fast. Luke slammed his foot down on the accelerator and turned the wheel hard to the right, trying to gain the road so that the oncoming vehicle would hit his back.
For one of the rare times in his life, Luke was too late.
The mass of gray steel slammed into the van’s left side, hitting with such force that it rocked up on two wheels, flirting with flipping completely.
It finally didn’t, sliding back down across the massive truck that now sat wedged in its side.
The van’s windshield was shattered and Luke’s head bleeding profusely. He opened his eyes, bits of glass sticking out of his brow. He was leaning against the windshield, his body hurting all over. Blood was in his right eye, causing the world to tint red.
Someone was moving outside.
Luke tried sitting up, but blackness swirled on the edges of his vision. Still, he pushed up on the steering wheel, trying to straighten his body and prepare for a fight.
It couldn’t be Christian. Not this soon.
That’s all his weakened mind could come up with before the twisted driver’s side door was wrenched open.
Luke caught a glimpse of someone, but only momentary. He tried to leap out, his hands ready to gouge the attacker’s eyes. Again, though, he was slow. The attacker moved to the side, swinging Luke onto the pavement. He wasted no time, grabbing Luke by the hair and dragging him across the ground, glass and grit grinding beneath his back. Luke tried reaching up, to fend off whoever had hold, but the man was too strong. Too quick.
He threw Luke inside the vehicle, and within seconds, Luke was bound, gagged, and had a black hood over his head.
He listened. The man was getting the others. Moments later, Veronica and Tommy were in the back seat of the truck with him. He couldn’t tell if either were conscious.
Luke swallowed, feeling the blood drip down his face beneath the hood. Everything was black, but even so, he could tell he was going under.
He fought as hard as he could, but in the end, the blood loss grew too great. Luke Titan fell unconscious in the back of a madman’s vehicle.
The front of the truck was damaged, but still operational. A lot of the damage was cosmetic, as it had a steel frame which both inflicted more damage on the van and protected the truck.
The animal was 50 miles outside D.C. when he finally pulled the car over. The exit was deserted, without even a gas station. The animal wasn’t concerned with why an exit existed here in the first place; such things were of no interest to him.
He drove until he found a dirt road, then turned off on it. He parked the truck, grabbed his bag from the passenger seat, and opened the back door. The woman wa
s in front of him; he’d administered sedative solutions to all three, ensuring they didn’t wake up before he was ready. He tossed the woman from the truck to the ground, unconcerned with her. The agent was next, and he pulled the man to the edge of the truck. The animal opened his bag and took out a handheld scanner. It had a very specific purpose: it was meant to detect electromagnetic waves within half an inch. Thus, if other waves were in the area, the scanner wouldn’t activate.
The animal undressed the agent, not wanting anything to get in the way of what he needed to do. He threw the clothes on the ground next to the woman. Finally, once the agent was naked, he started scanning. He took his time, moving slowly and starting at the soles of the agent’s feet. He went up his legs, all the way to his face, the scanner silent. The animal was diligent though and flipped the agent over, his legs sticking halfway out the back of the truck. He started again, the scanner moving up the man’s Achille’s tendon.
Buzz.
It vibrated as it crossed the middle of the agent’s right calf. The animal scanned further up and the buzzing stopped. He returned to the spot and it started vibrating again.
The animal placed the scanner down and rubbed his right thumb hard over the injection site. He could see it now, the entry wound, though it was very small. The bruising had faded, meaning they’d done it some days ago. The animal reached into his bag and pulled out a small scalpel, something a doctor would use for surgery—exactly what he was about to do.
He sliced into the agent’s calf, starting shallow, but going deeper to find what he needed. Blood flowed down the man’s leg and onto the leather seats. The animal continued cutting, slowly, and the meat revealed what he wanted.
The tracking device. He stuck his finger into the agent’s leg and removed the small capsule. The animal put it up to his eye and looked at it for a second. Professional, but he wouldn’t have expected anything else from the FBI. He was right, though—they’d been luring his target.
The animal dropped it on the dirt road outside and brought his heel down on it, grinding it to bits. He raised his foot and checked, ensuring it was dead.
