by Gary Ponzo
“Is there something I could do?” Jennings asked.
“Excuse me?”
“I mean with this terrorist,” Jennings added. “Is there anything I could help you with?”
“Sure,” Tommy said. “Just tell me where he is and I can go home.”
“Hmm,” Jennings said. “That’s a good question. Where would you hide if you were trying to outrun the authorities? In plain sight, or tucked away in a cabin somewhere?”
“Me, I’d hide out. But then, I’m not into killing innocent Americans.”
“Why do you think there’s such a spike in violence recently?” Jennings asked solemnly, like a schoolteacher searching for the correct answer.
“Beats the crap outta me,” Tommy said.
“Do you know what I think? I think there’s too much violence on TV. Kids can turn on any channel twenty-four hours a day and see explosions in the Middle East, or movies with special effects so real, who can tell the difference anymore? First time I saw the towers going down on September 11th, it felt like I was watching a movie.”
Tommy nodded. “I know what you mean, you get desensitized to the pictures you’re seeing.”
Tommy noticed Jennings was sipping his beer even slower than he was.
“Listen,” Tommy said. “You wanna give me a hand here?”
Jennings looked interested. “What do you need?” he asked, placing his beer down and wiping the foam from his lips with the back of his hand.
“Just make sure no one blindsides me, okay?”
“Blindside? What do you intend to do?” Jennings asked.
“I don’t know yet. Maybe nothing,” Tommy said. He looked at the man who was already twisting in his bar stool and facing the room behind them. “You with me, Norm?”
Jennings gave a small and decisive nod. “I have your back.”
Somehow, the way he said it, Tommy believed him.
The bartender paused in front of them as he was going past. “You two still okay?”
They both held up their hands.
“Hey, wait a second,” Tommy said. “Could you get me a small bag of ice?”
The bartender had a questioning look on his face.
Tommy flexed his hand and twisted his wrist. “I messed up my hand at work,” he said. “I just need to get the swelling down.”
The bartender nodded. Before he could leave entirely, Tommy added, “And a clean bar towel.”
The bartender waved his acknowledgment as he left.
Tommy returned to his beer.
“You okay?” Jennings asked.
“Huh?’
“Your hand,” Jennings said.
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I’m just thinking ahead.”
A minute later the bartender returned with a small plastic bag with ice and a semi-clean bar towel. When he left, Tommy stood and handed the items to Jennings.
“Hold onto this,” Tommy said. “I’ll let you know if I need them.”
Jennings shrugged.
Tommy walked over to the booth where the three young people sat. The young man sat by himself while the two girls shared their side of the booth. The kid was early twenties, dark complexion with a few days stubble which the women seemed to like these days.
“Hey, Eddie,” Tommy said.
“Yeah,” the kid said, looking a bit confused.
“Eddie Lister, right?” Tommy smiled like he was an old friend.
“Yeah, that’s right. Do I know you?”
Tommy rested his palms on the table and smiled at the two girls. “Ladies,” he said.
All three looked at him waiting for an explanation.
“Listen, Eddie,” Tommy said. “Can I get a word with you alone?”
Eddie’s face grew dark. “About what?”
Tommy looked around the room, trying to be discreet. He noticed Jennings paying close attention at the nearby stool.
“Eddie,” Tommy said, “you don’t know me, but I’m a nice guy. I just need a word with you so we can all go back to our dreary little lives.”
Eddie looked bewildered. He seemed to feed off the apprehension on the girls’ faces. “I don’t think so.”
Tommy sighed. “We don’t need to do this dance, Eddie.”
“What dance we talking about?” Eddie said, fishing around under the table, then coming up with a pistol. It was dark in the room, but Tommy figured it to be a single action Ruger. Popular out west for some reason.
The girls squealed while leaning back in their side of the booth. Eddie held the pistol low so no one else could see it very easily.
“You gonna shoot me, tough guy?” Tommy said, feeling the blood running hard through his veins.
“If you don’t get out of here in five seconds, I’m going to end this,” Eddie said with a convincing expression.
Tommy noticed Jennings watching the event with an intense stare. He didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by the event. The bartender was too busy stocking liquor at the end of the bar.
Tommy looked at Eddie with disdain. “This isn’t the movies, kid. You don’t need to count. Either you’re gonna shoot me, or you’re not.”
Eddie did what most people did in situations like this when they weren’t prepared to act. He screwed his face into a tight, angry expression and held the gun out closer to Tommy, as if the shorter distance would add to the threat.
Tommy placed his hand on the back of his neck and shook his head. “You want we should count together, or is this like one Mississippi, two Mississippi and we count in our heads?”
“I’m dead serious,” Eddie scowled.
Tommy jumped sideways, then pulled the gun from Eddie’s hand and cold-cocked the kid in the nose. One hard punch was all he needed and the kid’s head lurched back, then forward. Both of his hands immediately covered his nose. Blood seeped between his fingers as the girls shrieked and scurried out of the booth.
The front door opened and closed as the girls left and the room became quiet. Tommy slid into the booth next to Eddie and tucked the gun between his legs. He pulled a bunch of paper napkins from the dispenser at the end of the table and handed them to Eddie.
“Here,” Tommy said.
Eddie took the napkins and pressed them against his nose. His eyes were glossy and he was anxiously watching Tommy’s every move.
“I got your attention?” Tommy asked.
The kid nodded ardently.
Tommy gestured to Jennings and the guy came over with the bag of ice and towel, then returned to his seat at the bar.
The few people in the room seemed to miss the action, but were paying close attention now. The minimal staff was too busy to notice.
Tommy handed the towel to Eddie and said, “Here, put your head back and hold this.”
“You didn’t need to do that.” Eddie sobbed openly. “It wasn’t even loaded.”
Tommy took the bag of ice and covered the knuckles on his right hand, pressing it down on just the correct spot.
“Let me ask you something,” Tommy said. “You ever shoot a gun before?”
“Uh uh,” Eddie mumbled through the towel, his head back now.
“See, that’s your problem,” Tommy said, wincing as an ice cube found the tender part of his hand. “You’re a beginner pretending to be a professional. Anyone with experience sees you’re a virgin. That’s a single action revolver you got there. You gotta have the hammer back to shoot the damn thing.”
“Aw, shit,” Eddie said, feeling his nose with his free hand. “I think it’s broken.”
“Of course it’s broken, you idiot.” Tommy lifted the kid’s chin. “Keep your head back,” he said.
Large tears trickled from the corner of Eddie’s eyes and meandered down the side of his face while his torso shuddered.
Tommy rubbed the kid’s back. “It’s okay, Killer. I need you to breathe.”
Eddie tried to take a full breath and coughed into the towel.
“You know, Eddie, there’s Payson tough and then there’s Wes
t Baltimore tough. I’m sure you’re a real handful in Payson, though. Maybe you could steal some milk money tomorrow and get right back on the saddle, huh?”
Eddie’s eyes were wide and frightened. “What do you want from me?”
Tommy removed the bag of ice from his knuckles and flexed his hand. “Apparently you came into some cash not long ago and there’s an ample amount of evidence to suggest you may have found some easy money.”
There was nothing but fear on the kid’s face.
“And,” Tommy continued, “at this very same time a delivery of Turkish cigarettes was stolen from a delivery truck outside of town.” He raised his eyebrows. “You putting it together yet?”
Eddie’s entire body shook, which made him appear to be nodding.
Tommy got closer to him and lowered his voice. “I need to know some information about the heist.”
“A … a … are you the law?”
Tommy put his hand on his forehead. “Good grief, Eddie, you think I look like the law?”
“N … n … no.”
Tommy shook his head. “I’m not. I need this info so I can track down some bad people. People who are much worse than me even. And that’s hard to do.”
“But I don’t know anything,” Eddie pleaded. “Please, just let me go. I won’t ever steal anything ever again.”
“Here’s the problem,” Tommy said. “The people you did the job for are terrorists. You’ve been watching the news, right? The KSF? That’s who you’re dealing with.”
A flicker of recognition crossed Eddie’s face.
“It’s all making sense now, isn’t it?” Tommy said.
Eddie pulled the towel down and examined the large red spot.
“Look at me, Eddie.”
The kid turned with glossy eyes and a mangled nose.
“Here’s how it works,” Tommy said. “We’ll bring you to the sheriff’s office and take a statement. He’ll announce it to the press that they’ve discovered the cigarette thief and have found valuable information about the KSF from this thief.”
“N … No,” Eddie stammered. “You can’t. I thought you weren’t the law?”
“I’m not, but my cousin is the sheriff, and he’ll make sure the KSF knows about your little visit with him. Then he’ll release you.” Tommy raised his eyebrows. “How long before these terrorists come by to pay you a visit? Only with guns which have bullets. And I promise there won’t be any counting when it happens. I’d give you good odds you don’t live to eat lunch.”
“You would do that?”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “Eddie, I just broke your nose. You don’t think I’d give you up to these terrorists? Shit, I’d give them your home address and sleep like a baby.”
Eddie’s eyes roamed around the bar searching for something, maybe thinking of a way out. Tommy wasn’t about to spoon feed him the answer. It was always better if it was the mark’s own idea.
“What if I can help the sheriff find these guys?” Eddie blurted, his nose beginning to leak again.
Tommy took the kid’s hand with the towel and placed it up to the leaky nose.
“That something you can do?” Tommy asked while applying pressure to Eddie’s nose.
“Uh huh,” Eddie murmured through the towel, excited about seeing a positive ending to his dilemma.
“Okay,” Tommy said. “Let’s see what you got.”
Tommy grabbed Eddie and pulled him from the booth. As he headed toward the door, he noticed Norm Jennings was no longer sitting at the bar. He looked around but didn’t find him. A loose thought entered his mind. It wasn’t something he wanted to think about.
Chapter 22
Nick lay in bed next to Julie and wondered if she was asleep. He glanced over at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was only a minute later than the last time he looked. She was turned away from him. He reached over and touched the small of her back.
“Will you find him?” Julie’s voice came out of the dark.
Since she didn’t know about The Russian, he knew she was talking about Barzani. “Yes,” he said.
She took a long breath. “I believe you, Sweetie.”
A few seconds passed while Nick’s mind raced with dire thoughts. He needed to keep Julie safe, physically and mentally.
“Do you think they’ll be more after he’s gone?” Julie asked.
“No. His crew is the last cell they have here.”
“But what about others from Turkey?”
“It would take years to develop enough soldiers to infiltrate the states.”
“But …”
He knew where she was going. It only took one maniacal terrorist to destroy her world and take the father of her baby away from her.
“It’s a long shot, Honey,” he said. “There’s a better chance I’ll get hit by lightning.” Or killed by a Russian assassin, he thought.
His words seemed to hit the proper note, however, because he could sense her breathing slow down.
“You need to sleep,” Julie said.
“I have lots of needs,” he said.
Julie turned to face him. Even in the dark he could see her teeth smiling back at him. “Oh, really. Care to name one?”
“Yes. I have the insatiable need to feel your belly.”
This made her eyes twinkle as she pulled up her sleeping shirt.
Nick placed his hand low on her stomach. She was soft and warm. “I feel something moving.”
“That’s the chicken quesadilla,” she said. “I’m too early to be able to feel the baby.”
“Still,” he said. “A guy can dream can’t he?”
He felt her fingernails caress the inside of his thigh. He tried to turn, but his damaged shoulder kept him on his back.
“I’m a little immobile at the moment,” he said.
“The better for me to take advantage of you,” Julie said as she sat up and pulled off her shirt. A slice of moonlight cut across her naked body and exposed her smooth, shiny skin.
She straddled him, then leaned forward, her lips brushing against his ear. “You just stay right there, sailor,” she whispered. “I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”
• • •
“Who were those girls you were with?” Tommy asked Eddie as he drove the sheriff’s car down an empty two-lane road. Eddie was in the passenger seat pushing buttons on his phone with his thumbs.
“My sisters. I’m sending them a text right now,” he said. His bloody towel sat on his lap and occasionally he would place a clean spot to his nose to check for any new blood. The kid seemed to calm down once he was put in the sheriff’s car. As if it gave Tommy some legitimacy.
Tommy had only been driving a few minutes when a pair of distant headlights popped into his rear view mirror. The roads were extremely quiet, yet the car behind him didn’t seem to gain on him.
“I want you to do me a favor, Eddie,” Tommy said. “I want you to promise me you’ll throw that gun away.”
“Okay,” Eddie agreed too easily.
“Eddie,” Tommy said firmly. “I’m serious. Don’t tell me what I wanna hear. Carrying a gun will get you killed. Especially an unloaded one. You understand?”
Tommy glanced over at the kid. Eddie was nodding, as if to himself.
“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I understand.”
“Good. You’re not a bad kid. You’re just watching too many action movies. Start watching comedies, then go around impressing the girls with your wit instead of your unloaded weapons.”
“Okay,” Eddie said, then glanced down at a text message.
Tommy pulled out his phone and pushed a contact button.
After a couple of rings a breathless voice said, “Yeah.”
Tommy looked at the clock on his dashboard. 10:45 P.M..
“Nicky?” Tommy grinned. “You working out?”
“Very funny,” Nick rasped. “What’s up?”
“Well, I found Eddie Lister,” Tommy said. “He’s with me now.”
“That’
s great. Does he know something?”
“I think so.”
“Bring him right over.”
Tommy checked his rear view again and saw the headlights keeping its distance. “Yeah, well, let’s meet at your office instead.”
“Something wrong?”
“Probably not. Just being careful. Go back to your workout and I’ll meet you there.”
Tommy ended the call, then pushed a couple of buttons and handed the phone to Eddie.
“Here,” Tommy said. “See the red beam?
Eddie looked confused. He aimed the beam at his feet. “What is this?”
“It’s a radar detector. I want you to turn around and aim it at the car behind us.”
Eddie twisted in his seat. “I don’t see any car?”
“I know, he’s back there a ways. Keep your eye out for him.”
Tommy took his foot off the gas and the car slowed.
“Who is it?” Eddie asked.
“I have an idea.”
The road was tree-lined and had gentle twists. A few seconds later a pair of headlights popped out around a distant curve.
“Okay, Eddie, point and read me the display.”
Eddie was on his knees completely turned, arms outstretched.
“Sixty-five,” Eddie said.
Tommy let the Sheriff’s car slow to a gentle roll.
“Keep reading,” Tommy said.
“Fifty-nine,” Eddie said. “Fifty-three … forty-four.”
“Shit,” Tommy muttered.
“Thirty-one,” Eddie diligently read the display. “Twenty-three.”
“That’s enough,” Tommy said, stepping on the gas. “Turn around and put your seat belt on.”
The kid listened. His voice got excited. “Are you going to outrun him?”
“Don’t be such a thrill seeker.”
Tommy got the car up to cruising speed again and scanned the shoulder for a place to park. Someplace he could get some quick cover. The headlights temporarily disappeared behind him.
“Hey, you like Coldplay?” Eddie said, browsing through Tommy’s phone.
Tommy snatched the phone from the kid. “Will you pay attention here? I’m trying to keep us alive.”
