by Mike Ryan
“Who said there wasn’t a sweet guy underneath that rough exterior?”
“Certainly nobody I know,” Jones mumbled.
Hendricks took up Recker’s suggestion and went into her bedroom to get some sleep, closing the door behind her. Recker and Jones watched her until she disappeared from view.
“Cute girl,” Jones stated.
“Yeah. She’ll eventually make some guy pretty happy. And they’ll be lucky to have her. She’s a special person.”
“Almost makes you wish you were that guy?”
“Don’t start with that again.”
“So what other business did we have to discuss? Or was that just a ruse to get her into bed? I mean, not with you, but on her own, alone.”
“How much are you progressing with that other thing?” Recker wondered.
“What other thing?”
“You know, the thing I asked you to check on?”
“The pictures? You just asked me a few minutes ago.”
“For someone as brilliant as you are, you surely can’t be this stupid.”
“I’m afraid you have me for a loss. I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about,” Jones responded.
Recker rolled his eyes, wondering how a man so intelligent could be so clueless. “The person I asked you to find nine months ago.”
“Oh. Agent Seventeen,” Jones recalled.
“That’s the one. You asked me to be patient and I have been. You said it might take you some time. And it has.”
“And it’s gonna take a little more.”
“How much more?” a frustrated Recker asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” Jones said, sensing his frustration and trying to ease his mind a little. “Just a little more time. It won’t be too much longer.”
“You wouldn’t be intentionally stalling, would you?”
Jones’ eyes opened wide and tilted his head back, almost pretending to be insulted. “Are you questioning my integrity?”
“I know this is a project you didn’t really want to embark on or a road you didn’t want me to travel down,” Recker stated. “I’m just wondering if that sometimes weighs on your mind.”
Jones took a few seconds before answering, carefully choosing his words. “I would be remiss if I didn’t say that I was, and still am, against this personal vengeful vendetta of yours that you’re on. But I told you I would help find the person responsible and I will. But it’s not as easy as just opening up the phonebook and running your finger down halfway through the page and picking someone. It’s an extremely sophisticated program that takes time to work. The last thing we need is being discovered and having the government track it back to us and showing up at our doorstep and both of us winding up in a big, dark hole somewhere, both of us unlikely to ever see the light of day again.”
“That was a little long winded,” Recker remarked.
“Perhaps so. But it was what needed to be said.”
Recker nodded his head, satisfied with the answer. “OK.”
It was a nice little speech that Jones had laid out, but he wasn’t actually being totally truthful. He was being honest when he said it’d take time, and it required constant surveillance, but he wasn’t putting in a hundred percent effort on it. He was deliberately slowing down the process a little. If he’d been going full bore on the project, he’d probably have it ready by now. As it stood, he was probably another month or two away from completing it. He was hoping that the longer he took, the calmer Recker would get about the situation, maybe even foregoing it completely. That was obviously not happening though. Jones wasn’t sure he actually believed it was a real possibility anyway, or just some fool hearty notion that he had dreamed up. Jones had real reservations about it, not sure whether Recker would ever return if he went after Agent Seventeen once he was found. Though he wasn’t positive, a part of him believed that once the agent in question was found, that Recker would go off on some suicide mission, not having any inclination on returning. Or even living after his work was done. Part of him believed that finding Agent Seventeen was all that Recker was really living for. Once that was done, Recker would no longer have a need to keep on living. That was the part of the equation that worried Jones the most and made him slow the process down.
“Just so you’re aware, I’ll have to put that aside for a few days while I work on finding out who did this to you.”
“You can’t do two things at once?”
“The program I am running requires constant supervision and occasional…maintenance, shall we say. I would not be comfortable leaving it run unattended.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“It is. And I believe right now that this situation commands our full attention,” Jones said. “Once this is over, I can return to it with full vigor. Agree?”
“Yes.”
“So once I commence my search for this assailant of yours, what do we do with him when we find him?”
“That’s easy. I kill him.”
“Do we need to take such drastic actions?” Jones wondered.
“He tried to kill me. Yes, we need to take such drastic actions. If he tried once, he’ll try again.”
“What if he winds up being a police officer?”
“Makes no difference.”
“You intend to intentionally kill a member of a law enforcement agency?”
“If that’s what it is. If it turns out that he is a police officer, then he’s obviously on the take. It’s not like I’ll be taking out one of the good guys,” Recker answered.
“How could you possibly know that?”
“You said there’s nothing in the police records that indicated one of theirs was involved in a shooting.”
“That’s correct.”
“If a police officer doesn’t report being involved in a shooting, especially one that involves me, then that means they’re trying to hide something. Also means they’re probably involved with some shady people. The community won’t miss them if they’re gone. Probably be better off for it too.”
“Perhaps you’re right. Well, if we have nothing further to discuss, I’ll start digging up the pictures from the police department’s files.”
“Leaving so soon?”
“Is there something else you need me here for?” Jones asked.
“I dunno. Wasn’t sure if you could trust me alone here. Beautiful woman sleeping alone in her bedroom. Never know what might happen.”
“Oh stop it.”
Chapter 3
It took Jones about two days to be able to find and pull the file and picture of every police officer in Philadelphia. Once he had everything he needed, he called Recker to come to the office to take a look. Recker had concluded that it was his last day at Mia’s apartment since she was going back to work the following day.
“So this is it, huh?” Mia asked.
Recker smiled. “Don’t say it like we’re never seeing each other again. I’m not leaving the city or anything. Just going back to work.”
“Yeah, I know. I guess I was just starting to get used to the arrangement. Seeing that handsome face of yours everyday.”
“Well, once you get out of your hellish schedule in two weeks, we’ll have to visit our favorite spot again.”
“Is that a date?” she hopefully asked.
“Let’s just call it a meeting between friends.”
“I guess that’ll have to do. Probably as good as I’m getting right now.”
Recker moved his shoulder a little and winced, causing some concern from Mia.
“Are you sure you’re ready to go back to work already?”
“It’s been over a week. I’m starting to get a little antsy,” Recker answered.
“Just make sure you’re careful and take care of yourself.”
“Don’t I always?” he asked with a smile.
Mia leaned in a gave him a warm hug. Recker was initially taken back by it, but quickly embraced the moment. After a minute, he innocently pulled away, not wanting t
o get swept away by the touch and smell of her. Even though he’d sworn off ever falling in love again, he could see it happening with her if he let it. And it was something that he couldn’t let happen. For her sake. She deserved better than a life with him.
“I guess if you need anything else, medically speaking, you’ll call me?” she asked.
“You’ll be the first one.”
“I’m sure.”
“I guess I owe you a special thanks for keeping me here and patching me up,” Recker said.
Mia shook her head. “Nah. I owed you. Plus it wasn’t so bad seeing you everyday,” she said with a smile.
“Well, I should get going.”
Mia tried to give him the most pleasant face she could, complete with a smile that she forced on. The week Recker stayed with her probably didn’t help with her growing attachment towards him. Even though she knew she probably shouldn’t pursue a relationship with him since every time she hinted or joked about them being together, he always rebuffed it or played it off, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him. She felt like there was something that he wasn’t telling her. There was something in his past that he didn’t want her to know about. She knew he wasn’t the type of guy that could be forced into anything. She just had to hope that at some point, he would let go of whatever it was that he was carrying around inside him.
Once Recker got back to the office, he walked around, looking at the walls as if he hadn’t seen them in a long time. Jones briefly acknowledged his presence as he typed away at one of his computers.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” Recker remarked.
“You were only gone a week, Mr. Recker, not a year. It’s the same exact place it’s always been,” Jones seriously replied.
“Remind me to take you to a comedy club sometime.”
“For what purpose?”
“It’ll do wonders for your personality.”
“Are you saying there’s something wrong with it now?” he asked, temporarily taking his hands away from the keyboard.
“No. Not at all,” Recker replied. “So…what’d you come up with so far?”
“Well, I’ve got ninety percent of the files downloaded so far. The other ten percent should be done by the time you’re done looking at the other ones.”
“Any issues?”
“No, not really. There have been a few challenges such as undercover officers who’ve had their files redacted or “misplaced”,” Jones said, simulating quotations in the air with his fingers. “But they were just temporary problems, nothing I couldn’t work around.”
“That’s why you get paid the big bucks.”
“Here, sit at that computer,” Jones said, pointing at the desktop next to him. “The pictures will start loading in a minute. They’re sorted by precinct. Just use the mouse to click to the next picture.”
Recker did as he was told and sat down at the computer to look at the pictures. He looked at each picture intently, making sure he was positive that it wasn’t the same guy before going on to the next one. Most pictures he was able to dismiss rather quickly since they didn’t have the same features he remembered the shooter as having.
“Do you actually hope he’s in there?” Jones wondered.
“I don’t hope for anything.”
“I mean, I would hate to think it’s a police officer.”
“Like I said before…good and bad people in every profession,” Recker said.
“Yes, I suppose.”
As Recker continued looking through the photos, Jones got up and poured another cup of coffee. Well, not actually poured, as he added a new addition to the office since Recker was gone. Jones figured since neither one of them could make good coffee on their own, he’d let a Keurig machine do it for them. All they had to do was put the pod in and voila…coffee that was worth drinking. As opposed to buying it at the convenience store or making what they passed off as coffee. Recker scrunched his eyebrows together as the strange smell permeated into his nose. It smelled good. It also broke his concentration away from the pictures he was supposed to be looking at. He turned and looked at Jones, standing by the machine and drinking his cup.
“What is that?” Recker asked.
“Oh. I thought we could use a little extra help in here.”
“Yeah, we sure could. That’s the understatement of the year.”
“Would you like a cup?”
“I think I could be persuaded into trying it out.”
Jones made a cup for his partner and brought it over to the desk, sitting it down in front of him. Recker leaned forward, bringing his nose to just outside of the edge of the cup, taking a whiff of it.
“That actually smells drinkable,” Recker joked.
“Indeed,” Jones happily exclaimed, proud of his purchase. “I don’t know why I never tried this sooner.”
Recker picked up his cup and took a sip, pleased at the results. “Pretty good.”
“You’ll notice I purchased a whole cabinet for it,” Jones pointed. “Underneath are other flavors and varieties. There’s coffee, tea, iced tea, hot chocolate, lemonade…I haven’t even tried all of them out yet.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy or excited over something.”
“It’s quite possible. I’m just in awe of that little machine.”
“Hmm.”
“So how are you making out so far?”
“Haven’t found him yet.”
Considering the Philadelphia Police Department had over six thousand officers, looking through all of their photos would take some time. Jones figured he really wouldn’t do much good hovering over Recker as he looked through them, so he got back to work. Recker would let him know if he found the one. Jones estimated it’d take at least a few hours to look through all of them, probably more if Recker took periodic breaks in between. It wound up taking even longer than Jones had figured. Recker spent the entire day and most of the night clicking through pictures. Just to make sure he didn’t skip one accidently, or mistakenly pass one, Recker looked through all of the pictures twice.
Once Recker had finally completed the task, he looked up at the clock and saw it was close to nine. He leaned back in his chair and sighed, before letting out a yawn. Jones heard the sigh and stopped his work, assuming Recker was finished.
“I take it you’re done?” Jones asked.
“Yep.”
“From the tone of your sigh, I assume you didn’t find him.”
“Nope.”
“Don’t be discouraged, we’ll find him.”
“I’m not discouraged. I sighed cause I just spent ten hours looking at a computer.”
“Oh.”
“We worked through dinner,” Recker stated.
“Yes, I know. If you’re hungry, there’s some lunch meat in the fridge.”
Recker got up from the desk and walked over to the refrigerator to help himself. Jones let him eat a sandwich before burdening him with any other questions.
“So what do you think our next move should be?” Jones asked, seeing Recker take the last bite of his sandwich.
“I don’t know yet.”
“At least we have some answers to work with. We at least know he’s not a cop. That’s something.”
“Yeah.”
“So if he’s not a cop, then who is he?”
“There’s a bigger question than that,” Recker said.
“Which is?”
“Was he working on his own or did someone hire him to do it.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Jones replied.
Another serious expression came over Jones’ face as a thought had come to him. It was one that scared him. Recker tilted his head as he watched him, curious about what he was thinking, obvious that something was now on his mind.
“What is it?” Recker finally asked.
“A terrifying thought just occurred to me.”
“You just remembered you mixed your reds and whites together with your laundry this
morning?”
Jones completely brushed off the sarcastic comment and focused on his issue. “What if the man that shot you is working for the government?”
“You mean the CIA?”
“What if they’ve found us…found you?” Jones wondered.
“I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself.”
“That thought hasn’t crossed your mind?”
“Did a few days ago. Already dismissed it,” Recker calmly replied, not giving it a second thought.
“How can you be so sure?”
“If they found us, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Maybe they were using that woman as bait to lure us out of the shadows,” Jones stated.
“I don’t think so.”
“How can you be so positive?”
“Don’t forget, this is the kind of work I did for them. Too many variables left for chance. They don’t work that way.”
“I wish I was as confident.”
“Trust me when I tell you it’s not them. Believe me, I would know if it was.”
“Well then we’re back to square one,” Jones sighed.
“Not quite,” Recker responded, pulling out his new phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Have an idea.”
Jones looked on inquisitively as he wondered what Recker was up to. He apparently had someone on his mind that he could call for some answers, though Jones had no idea who that person could be.
“Tyrell?” Recker greeted.
“Recker? Is that you?”
“Yeah. Who else would it be?”
“Dude, I thought you was dead.”
“Why the hell would you think that?”
“It’s all over the streets,” Gibson answered. “Hold on, let me duck inside here and get some privacy. Never know who’s listening out here.”
“You good?”
“Yeah. So what happened to you?”
“Why do you think something happened?” Recker asked.
“You got shot, then disappeared for a week. No stories, no word, nothing. Nobody heard nothin’ about The Silencer. Word on the street was that you was dead.”
“How’d it get out that I was shot? Only three people other than me would know.”
“Well I don’t know about the other two, but I know who one of them might be.”
