George Hartmann Box Set

by Kelly Utt

  We walk out the double doors where I entered. Then we cross past the area with the elevators. Miss Tessa unlocks a door on the other side, which leads to another set of double doors. This time, the double doors open up to an older section of the building and a service elevator. Miss Tessa pushes the big yellow button to call the elevator then smiles at me as if to let me know that I'm doing well. Her positive reinforcement is actually pretty nice to receive. Grandmotherly approval hits the spot right now.

  When the elevator arrives, a young man wearing a uniform like mine steps out. He does a double take when he sees me but keeps going without stopping to say anything. So far, so good.

  We ride the elevator down. We don't talk while we ride. Instead, we listen to the clunk and grind of the gears. This elevator isn’t smooth and quiet like the elevators in the front of the building which are meant for the public. This one is industrial and rugged. No need to pretty it up.

  When we finally reach the bottom and the doors open, a middle-aged African-American man with a bald head and a gold tooth is waiting on us. With a huge smile, Miss Tessa pats me on the back sweetly, then pushes me towards the man without saying a word. I glance down at his employee badge and make out the name Girard. I guess he’s my guy. In this dim light, I can’t read his last name.

  "How will I find you again?" I ask Miss Tessa. "Do you have a mobile phone?"

  "You'll be seeing me," she says matter-of-factly. "Now, go."

  I step out of the elevator and shake Girard’s hand without turning to look back at Miss Tessa before the doors close and she disappears into the bowels of the building. Girard doesn't say anything. He turns and starts walking. I assume I'm supposed to follow.

  I pull the brim of my hat down low on my forehead and tilt my face down so I don't have to make eye contact with anyone. I follow closely behind Girard. He walks quickly with long strides. He's a few inches shorter than me, but his pace is comfortable.

  The walk from the industrial elevator to the outdoors takes less than a minute. When I step outside, the fresh air feels good on my skin. So does the sunlight. Girard motions to the passenger seat of a cargo van and I get in. No news crew in sight. It looks like a clean exit. That nosey reporter will never know I left the building.

  Since Girard doesn't seem to want to talk, I work to get him directions without speaking. First, I text Liam to ask where he wants to meet. When he responds, I type the address into the GPS on my mobile phone for Girard to follow. When we arrive at the gas station and I see Liam in the black rental Jeep, a feeling of relief washes over me. I'm grateful for my uncle's presence in my life. I don't know what I would do without him.

  I step out of Girard’s van and wave to thank him. I fiddle in my pocket to get some cash to give him, but he drives away before I have a chance. I'll try to send him some money through Miss Tessa when I find her again. I make a mental note to stop by an ATM for that purpose. It’s the least I can do to thank him. Maybe I’ll give some money to Miss Tessa, too.

  "Where to, buddy?" Liam asks as I open the door and sit down in the passenger side of the Jeep.

  He has the top down, which is fine with me. The sunlight will do me good. I lean my head back against the headrest and take off the hat which has been disguising my face.

  "Did you bring me a change of clothes?" I ask.

  "I did. And I have your running shoes. What are you thinking?"

  "I'm thinking I need to get out for a run," I say. "I'd like to do it along the edge of the lake just like we do at home in Ithaca. It feels like that familiar setting and activity will help me clear my head and decide what to do next. I’m still weak and might not make it very far. But I’d like to try."

  "If that's what you need," my uncle says. He puts the Jeep in gear and drives out of the gas station parking lot. No sign of anyone noticing us. Thank God.

  "Will you join me?"

  "You know it," he says. "I brought my own running shoes for the occasion because I had a feeling you might ask. We've been running partners for many years, George. That's not going to change anytime soon."

  I grab the duffel bag in the backseat which contains my clean clothes. I begin to get changed while Liam drives. I'm not the slightest bit concerned with modesty right now. Not that I would be anyway, but I’m especially not right now.

  It seems strange to be out here driving with Liam and going for a run while my wife is in surgery and my little boy is about to enter surgery as well. But I feel like I have to be out here for my own sanity. I can't just sit around and wait and suffer. I've got to come up with a plan.

  Liam must have scoped out a place ahead of time, suspecting what I'd want to do because he drives directly to a trail that skirts the South end of the lake.

  "Hey, George," he begins as he parks the Jeep in the parking lot. "I packed us some sandwiches and some cold drinks. How about we have some lunch before we run?"

  "I'm not hungry," I say.

  "I know you're not. Let's eat anyway."

  "Weren't you just feeding me breakfast a little while ago?" I ask. "I ate some eggs, remember?"

  "That was hours ago, buddy. It's time to eat some more," my uncle says.

  I look at the sandwiches reluctantly as he pulls them out of the cooler. I'm again frustrated by the way my body insists on functioning while Ali is clinging to life.

  "You know, I have a pretty good idea of what you're thinking right now," Liam says. "She would want you to eat and take care of yourself. If you don't, you might not make it through this run without passing out again. You need to keep up your strength."

  "Fine," I say.

  "Okay, then," Liam affirms. "Let's sit down at a picnic table. There are several on the other side of this line of trees. Come on, I'll show you."

  "Did you scope this place out already?" I ask.

  "Somebody has to look out for you, nephew."

  I appreciate Liam. I really do.

  We sit down at a picnic table which is just beyond the tree line like he said it would be. There's a beach in front of us and a beautiful view of the sparkling lake a few hundred feet beyond where we’re sitting. The view is absolutely gorgeous. It's soothing to my eyes. Something about a water view helps me center myself and gain clarity. Nature therapy is doing its job already.

  The sandwich Liam packed tastes good going down. He took care to make it just the way I like. He made up both turkey and ham sandwiches so I could have choices and get whichever I felt like. He also brought me carrots with both hummus and peanut butter to dip in. To drink, he brought cans of soda and bottles of water.

  "What, no beer? I ask, managing a joke.

  "Not this time, my friend," he says. "I don't think alcohol would be wise under the circumstances. We want to remain alert for whatever might transpire."

  "Yeah, right," I say.

  I chew quietly for a minute, debating whether or not to tell Liam everything on my mind. I’m starting to lose track of what I've told and to whom. Maybe I really do need to sit the entire family down for a review to be sure everyone's on the same page and not missing any information.

  "Hey, Liam,” I say again.

  "Yeah, buddy?"

  "After you left this morning, a news crew came into the hospital and tracked me and Roddy down."

  "Damn. Those bastards,” he says, clearly frustrated. "So, that's why you snuck out the back wearing a disguise?”

  "That's right,” I answer.

  “I'm sorry, George,” he says. “ I told you I would try to keep them at a distance and I let you down."

  "It's not your fault. Not at all."

  “Yeah, well," he adds. "I didn't want you to have to go through that, on top of everything else."

  “Them showing up wasn’t the most troubling part," I say as my uncle looks at me expectantly.

  "And what is?" he asks.

  "The most troubling part is how the reporter who was shoving a microphone in my face said there was an arrest in the case... and that the dirtbag… "


  Anger begins to move through me again as I think about what happened.

  "Go on," Liam says. "An arrest in the case sounds like good news, but I get the idea from your tone of voice that it's actually not. What gives?"

  "I guess that part is good news,” I say. "I haven't had a chance to get in touch with Duke or Officer Dunley to confirm. But this reporter said the suspect claims to be Ethan's biological father. Can you believe that shit?"

  Tears begin to stream out of my eyes fast and hard. I'm so tired of crying. I’m surprised my body can't even produce more tears at this point, after all that I've shed the past few days.

  "Oh, buddy," my uncle says sympathetically.

  Liam stands up out of his seat across the picnic table and comes over to sit on the bench next to me instead. He puts a hand on my shoulder.

  "That can't possibly be true. Can it?” I ask. "I mean, I was deployed around the time Ali became pregnant, but I've never doubted that she was faithful to me. I don't want to doubt her now when she isn’t able to defend herself."

  "Then don't doubt it now," Liam agrees. "This is your marriage we’re talking about. George and Ali. You guys are ‘couple goals,’ as the young kids say. Your relationship is the best I've ever seen."

  "So," I continue. "What in the hell is going on? Where did this guy come from? And why would he make such an outrageous claim?”

  Liam sits quietly with his hand still on my shoulder. I take one of the napkins he packed with lunch and I dry my eyes as I collect myself.

  "Let's just run now," I say. "I just want to run. Will you run with me now?"

  "Yes, of course," Liam replies as he quickly collects the trash from my lunch and takes it and the cooler back to the Jeep.

  When he returns, I'm standing and doing some light stretches. I'm ready to move. I know I need to take it easy after passing out twice yesterday and then spending time getting rehydrated in the hospital. Even if I can't make it an eighth of a mile, whatever I can do will help. Aside from a nice water view, running is the next best thing to keep me sane.

  We begin to jog together in a slow trot. The sun is shining brightly and it's much warmer outside than it has been for the past couple days. In fact, it feels like it's at least twenty degrees warmer than it was yesterday when we were searching the woods. The trail we're running dips in and out of the shade, which provides a nice variety.

  The trees are so much different here than they are at home. The pines remind me of the trees in D.C. actually, although the pines here in Lake Tahoe are much larger. I like them. They feel like a version of home. I much prefer a version of home than I do a completely foreign landscape like the desert. Green is soothing to my eyes just like the blue of the lake. Putting everything together with the lake, the outdoor air, the green trees, and running should do the trick. At least, for a little while.

  I’m feeling strong and we're enjoying our run when we notice what looks like a fallen tree trunk on the path ahead.

  "Hey, what is that?" I ask as I reach out my arm and put it in front of my uncle’s chest to make sure he slows down.

  We come to a stop as we gaze at the object and try to make sense of it. Upon closer inspection, I don't think it's a tree trunk after all.

  "Is that a snake?" Liam asks. " It's huge."

  "It sure is," I agree. "It's hard to tell for sure from back here, but it looks like a rattler, doesn't it?"

  "I didn't think they had rattlesnakes around here,” Liam says.

  "I heard that too. Something about the elevation and the cold. I forget the details."

  We don't go any closer, but the snake sees us. It looks like it was simply crossing the path until it realized we were approaching. Now, it has stopped and it's just laying there with its girth spread out. It looks like it's about six feet long. I don't think I've ever seen such a big snake outside of a museum.

  "He sees us," Liam says.

  "I know," I reply. "We don't want to tangle with that big boy."

  Liam shanks his head up and down in agreement while I put my hands on my hips and stand still a moment to take in the view.

  "Look at how strong it is," I say. "I’ll bet it's big and strong because it dominates this territory. A top predator like that doesn't have to worry about much."

  Liam raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to one side.

  "That's for sure,” he affirms. "This guy knows his place in the world."

  All of a sudden, it begins to settle over me that I can learn from this snake. Maybe it's some kind of a sign.

  "Isn't that something?" I continue. "To know your place in the world and never doubt what you are. I mean, it comes down to a fundamental question of whether you are a predator or prey, right? This snake knows he's a predator. I doubt he ever considers himself prey. He counts on his natural abilities and advantages for survival. He has to hunt in order to survive and he doesn't apologize for it. He's not ashamed of being a predator. He doesn't try to talk himself out of being a predator. He simply is a predator."

  Liam begins to smile and he listens.

  "Yeah?" he says. "I take it this is an important realization for you?"

  "Probably so," I say. "The thought has been spinning around in my mind for a while now. But this snake helped me articulate it.”

  "Huh," Liam remarks.

  Maybe it's the endorphins kicking in, but a feeling of relief permeates through me and I know what to do.

  "Liam," I say. "I'm tired of acting like prey. I'm tired of thinking like prey. Here I am, weepy and huddled up, hoping that my family can avoid harm. So far, I've been reactive. I've been defensive. And look where it’s gotten me."

  "Well, okay then,” Liam replies. " I’m sure your father-in-law would agree with that summary."

  "It’s time to go on offense," I say. "As a human being, I may not have the luxury the snake does of knowing for sure that he's a predator. But I do have the luxury of choosing whether or not I'm going to be a predator or prey. I choose to be a predator beginning right this moment. I'm not running anymore. I'm not hiding. And I'm not simply wishing this will go away."

  "So, what's next?" Liam asks.

  "We’re going to find the bastard who says he's Ethan’s biological father and we're going to find out what the hell is going on."

  "You mean right now?"

  "I do. I mean right now."

  Part II

  The Depths

  5

  Descent

  I've never gone on the offensive before. At least, not in this lifetime. The choice to be a predator is brand new. I've spent so much time trying to be reasonable and good and to do the right thing.

  I've struggled over decisions which I had to make and actions I had to take when I was in the military. I was involved in some things I'm not proud of. But those things were not entirely of my own choosing. There was always someone higher up calling the shots and giving the okay. The combination of that place within the chain of command and the fact that I was the one designing the technology which was used remotely to conduct missions from afar meant I was able to keep a safe distance from the ugly stuff. Roddy was spot on yesterday morning when he was telling me to think more like a trained soldier and less like a weepy boy.

  I don't want to be prey. So becoming a predator is the only logical choice. Rather than waiting around on these monsters to continue to pursue my family and cause us harm, I am choosing to go after them instead. In fact, I'm ready to weaponize the drones in our new residential surveillance business. Government regulations be damned. We’ll find a way around those.

  I remember being pushed around as a kid. It wasn't physical bullying, really. I was never actually been up. But a brat named Johnny Triff caused me plenty of emotional stress. He certainly had the upper hand. That little prick teased me for years about being poor. He used to say that since my dad had a business yet we still didn't have nice things, there must be something wrong with my dad. Johnny insisted Dad must have been doing something wrong. Looking back, I real
ize that not having money right away is just part of bootstrapping a business. And, of course, my dad was plenty successful in the end. But when I was just a kid on the other end of that harassment, I mostly cowered and hoped Johnny wouldn’t come at me. I daydreamed about turning the tables and standing up to him. I even thought about punching him square in the jaw. But I never did and I knew I never would. That wasn't me.

  Things are different now.

  Liam and I return to the Jeep in the parking lot as my mind attempts to form a solid plan. We need to find this suspect who spoke with reporters and we need to face him on our own terms. No police. No media.

  I begin by calling Roddy. We're going to need him. He was already on board with hunting these people down. I may be a day late to that party, but I'm not foolish enough to try and move forward without him. He picks up right away and tells me there's no new news about Ali. She’s still in surgery. It's still taking longer than expected, by a lot. I ask if Marjorie can take over for her husband and sit in the waiting room of the emergency department. She can, so Roddy agrees to leave the hospital and meet us.

  If, at some level, Ali knows what's happening. I hope she approves. I hope she won't be upset that I left the hospital.

  We mobilize back at the rental house. Liam and I arrive first. We gather pieces of printer paper from the office and a couple of pens, then we spread out at the dining room table. The possibility each blank page holds fills me with hope, just like it did earlier at the hospital. Liam and I are sitting down when Roddy walks in.

  The tone is somber and serious. We’d normally be joking around and laughing together, but not today. Every moment counts.

  "Okay, I'm here," Roddy says. "Do you have a plan?"

  "We start with the suspect who was arrested. The one who claims he's Ethan’s biological father, which is insane." I say.