Do Or Die

by E.R. Baine

  Lincoln shook his head, laughing, “I don’t remember a vacation where I haven’t done anything else but work.” Lincoln rubbed his chin. “My son is about her age. Do you know where she lived?”

  “The address is included with the report and final findings. It’s right around here in Hell’s Kitchen.”

  “Hmm.” Lincoln grew contemplative. His phone buzzed and he glanced at the incoming text. “Just a sec.” He got up and walked a little way to the entrance, where Mat saw him greet another man before Lincoln was handed a medium-sized black garbage bag. Lincoln walked back to the table to reclaim his seat, placing the bag next to him.

  “How are the kids?”

  Lincoln sighed. “Think Alvin and The Chipmunks on steroids.”

  “That bad, huh?” Mat laughed.

  “Actually, no, it’s not half bad at all.”

  Lincoln waved to his friend behind the bar, held up his glass and put up two fingers in the air. The bartender nodded and at him and started to fill the order.

  “Molly has a recital coming up. She’s going to be a bunch of grapes.”

  Mat smiled.

  Lincoln placed the photos and documents relating to the investigation of Audrianna’s kidnapping into the folders. “Between them and the financials I can’t begin to call my time at home a “staycation,” even.”

  Mat relaxed, placing his arm to rest on top of the headrest. “I thought Bob was helping.”

  “Yeah, but they are still my kids. I can’t slough them off on my lover.”

  “Lincoln.” The waiter came and placed the drinks on the table.

  “Thanks, man.” Lincoln placed the two next to his empty one.

  “I’ll have a beer in the bottle.” Mat ordered.

  Lincoln gave him a quizzical glance.

  “I’m off the clock until my flight arrives in New Mexico in about three days.”

  Lincoln finished off his drink.

  “Have you given any thought to Mexico?”

  “Other than everything else, Mexico is always on my mind.”

  Mat nodded. “Just be sure,” he paused, “to be prepared.” Mat looked down. “Best get started early on that.”

  Lincoln looked at him, suspicion in his eyes. “You couldn’t be more cryptic.”

  Lincoln threw back his other drink as Mat’s beer was delivered.

  “Is Viktor planning something?”

  Mat took a sip of his beer. “I can’t say.”

  Lincoln looked interested.

  “I can’t say, except that Viktor is my boss and you should just look to getting all your ducks in a row, dot your Ts and cross your Is until you get cross-eyed. This year is gonna be the shit-stinger of all time.”

  Lincoln tapped the rim of one glass with another, lost in thought.

  “Plus,” Mat rolled the beer bottle around with his hand, his eyes shuttered. “You know how you said that you get the idea that Viktor can’t do as he’d like to with his wife on board.”

  Lincoln’s hand stilled. “You think he might try to push her out.”

  “I’m thinking that she carries a lot of leverage, and that irks a lot of people. If someone tries to push her out, he won’t stand in their way.” Mat drained his beer. “He’s thinking the best way to keep her safe is to keep her out.”

  Lincoln kneaded his furrowed brow with his fingers, squeezing his eyes.

  Dammit, Lincoln thought. Audrianna was a real asset to the company, and with a PhD in management information systems she had spearheaded many successful global mergers as the Chief Information Officer. The kidnapping must have Viktor nervous for her safety. But being CIO she was also Viktor’s “right hand man,” so to speak, and was often the only tie-breaker left when it came to decision-making. Coupled with the fact that she was also his wife, that made her an easy target for animosity.

  Maxckcorp was a global technologies investment firm, privately owned without a board of directors; that didn’t mean there weren’t people within the company who vied for the top spot. Or at the very least, the most favor with the owner, Viktor Maxckmillian.

  It was Audrianna’s skillful and intuitive thirst for knowledge, and her ability to break down that knowledge into data, which drove the pathways to successful acquisitions.

  “Crap, Audrianna is like the yin to my yang, I don’t think I can tolerate working there without her.”

  Would I even have a job if Audrianna left Maxckcorp?

  “You see,” Mat pointed at Lincoln with his pinky finger on the same hand that held the beer bottle. “That’s another problem right there. I told you when you first got on the job you have to stop all this chummy-chummy stuff you have going on with Audrey.”

  Lincoln scowled.

  “You’re making a case for Viktor to hate you. Stop being so close with another man’s wife. Audrianna is a married woman, with kids. He hates the fact that you’re with her on the job more than he is.”

  “We’re close friends, associates at best.”

  Mat snickered as he took another swig of his beer.

  “You’re just as close to her as I am; we attended the same military academy.”

  “Yeah, but I managed to convince Viktor that I’m into blondes, brunettes, and redheads-if you know what I mean. And I don’t partner up with her every chance I get. She visits with you both during and after work hours. Adopt conference calling, get Skype, and just don’t see her as much as you’re used to.”

  Lincoln raked his hand through his hair.

  Mat sighed in exasperation. “Viktor would be more likely to push her out if he knew for sure it would get her away from you.”

  Lincoln picked up his phone from the table and pocketed it. He removed a burner phone from his pocket and proceeded to dial a number. After a few tries he hung up the phone.

  He cursed, looking somber. “Enrique’s not picking up.”

  Mat looked at him. “How long has it been since…”

  “Eight weeks.”

  Mat stared at him, whistling low. “You can’t lose Mexico, man, that’s one quarter of the company’s budget. Roku is out for blood- Audrianna’s blood.”

  “Crap!”

  “You’re going to have to head over there?”

  “Shit no. I can’t – they know me there. I can’t show my face there. And my plate is damn near full.”

  “Gotta send somebody.” Mat finished his beer. “You think Enrique is…” Mat used his index finger to cut across his neck.

  “Shit, at this point I really don’t care. As long as he doesn’t bring down the company with him, nobody is to know that we are in Mexico. Hell, we are not supposed to be in Mexico. He can die if he wants to, as long as it’s just him.”

  Lincoln tried calling Enrique again. “Shit, you know what the problem here is, with Enrique and all these fuckers,” Lincoln said, pointing the phone at Mat with an accusatory look on his face. “All these little shits come into the company with their own private and personal agendas and once they get where they want to be, they go about conducting that private business or personal vendetta with absolutely no consideration of what kind of shit they’re dragging the company into.”

  “You have to send somebody.” Mat stared at him.

  Lincoln stared back. “No.” Lincoln gritted his teeth. “Not Carlos.”

  “You have to send somebody.”

  “He has his own agenda. He’s just been salivating, waiting to get a chance to throw himself into the lion’s den.”

  Lincoln cursed, and he started to dial another number.

  “Who you gonna send, then?”

  Lincoln looked at him with an exasperated look on his face. “Who else?”

  They spoke resolutely, in unison. “Carlos.”

  “Yo, big L!” A guy hailed him from the bar. The person carried a white trash bag. He approached their table.

  “Hey McCarthy, you brought the balloons.”

  He handed Lincoln the bag. “Cool man,” Lincoln pulled out a small pur
ple balloon. He showed it to Mat who gave him a quizzical look. “Hey man this is awesome. Thank you.”

  “No problem Bro, the least I can do!”

  Lincoln got out of his seat, slapped his hands in a strong handshake that drew the other man into a bear hug.

  The guy then left them alone.

  Mat’s eyes shot up.

  “It’s for Molly’s recital- you know, the bunch of grapes.”

  “That too.” Mat indicated the black plastic bag beside Lincoln.

  “Yeah, yeah.” He pulled out a small, purple coverall. “You see, you take this, and take the balloons.” He removed a small balloon from the bag. “And you stick this on this right here and you see, and there you have it: a bunch of grapes.”

  Mat gave him an all-knowing look that incensed Lincoln.

  “I can tell exactly what you’re thinking.” Lincoln got up. He put the plastic bag under his arm, and grabbed the bag with the balloons. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.” He looked at Mat with a sly grin. “But I will have you know one grand detail.” He leaned over Mat to whisper in his ear. “I’ve never slept with any of these gentlemen, and I haven’t slept with any other man but Bob for the last two years.”

  Mat tried to cover his stunned expression as he followed Lincoln to the door. Lincoln then stopped at the bar and collected a pair of small purple shoes from the bartender there. Lincoln mouthed the words “thank you” over the loud music, which was starting to transgress from the party floor as the late evening diners dwindled to make room for the evening partygoers.

  Mat shook his head, frowning, as the two made their way through the decorative glass and wooden doors onto the snowy street. “Could we at least stop meeting in all these gay bars all the time?”

  Lincoln laughed. “You asked me where I was.”

  “Yeah, well I hate all the looks those guys give me.”

  They walked down the street at a casual pace. It was just after seven.

  “What looks?”

  “They keep staring at me as if to say, ’What is I guy like that doing with a guy like him?’ As if I could never get a guy like you to like me.”

  “Mat, are you for real?” Lincoln looked incredulous. “But you’re not gay.”

  Mat looked offended, he gritted his teeth. “Pisses me off all the same.”

  Lincoln laughed. He visibly assessed Mat’s appearance in a dark brown undershirt and light grey tweed jacket. “You can relax about that, take it from a guy that knows, tweed is a natural gay repellant.” Lincoln gave him a friendly nudge.

  “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed.”

  “It’s embarrassing at least for me, being your closest gay friend and not being capable of making a dent in that fuddy-duddy closet of yours...”

  “Hey! Don’t think I won’t clock you a good one right here, right now.”

  Lincoln laughed, “Just walk a safe distance in front so people won’t know we’re together and I’ll be fine with just that.”

   A young man drove up in a grey BMW. “Need a ride?”

  “No thanks,” Lincoln said. “I have year-round parking across the street.”

  “Get in, I’ll drive you up.”

  Lincoln got in, shoving his bags in the back. He folded his large frame into the back seat. Mat sat beside him.

  Eyeing his friend’s packages, he shook his head again.

  “I can’t dump a broad without her slamming my ass on Facebook.”

  Lincoln snickered.

  “Lincoln, I’ve got one question for you. What kind of control you have over men, and can it be reverse-engineered from ‘gay’ to ‘straight’?”

  * * *

  Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

  Is the ringing in my ears getting louder?

  The man lying in the grimy cell covered his ears harder with his hands. To his chagrin, the sound intensified.

  “What the…”

  “Yo,” the officer at the gate called to him in Spanish. “Time to go, gringo.”

  The man perked up. “Huh?”

  “Time to go, you’re out of here.”

  Ohh yeah.

  The man rolled over, falling right off the side of the suspended wooden bench that served as a cot and onto the floor. His head met dirt. The other occupants of the cell snickered.

  The man brought himself up awkwardly, swaying on his feet. He shook his head roughly.

  “You okay?” the policeman asked. “Come on.” He opened cell door. “Let’s go.”

  The man grunted. He exited the cell and started walking the short distance to the entrance. Then someone caught his eye. He stopped, staring. Sitting on the cot in the next cell, barely dressed, was a young girl. He figured she couldn’t be more than eleven or twelve years old. The girl felt his stare, but didn’t meet his eyes. The other occupants of the cell leered at her. Another man in the cell came to him and told him frankly, in front of the policeman, “Special order. You have money, we make it happen.”

  The young man, dressed in a wife-beater, open plaid shirt, and loose jeans shook his head, averting his eyes. The policeman behind him shoved him to move forward. He grunted his response and complied.

  At the front desk he collected his belongings: a wallet (now devoid of cash), a cigarette box (with mysteriously vanishing cigarettes), and one cell phone. The man seemed genuinely surprised that he got back his cell phone. And one toothbrush which he made a mental note to throw away.

  The man saluted the officers, taking note of the one lounging in the corner whom he was sure was wearing his pricey shades. Then he walked out of the dilapidated jail house.

  The jailhouse was an outpost in the midst of obscure squalor on the outskirts of a little-known Guatemalan city. The police there were not properly supervised, and dished out their own brand of justice; namely the laws of the local crime boss. Prostitution, money laundering, and human trafficking were their bread and butter.

  The man sighed. He walked a little ways to the side of the small, grey-brick police station stood in the middle of a dead end street. He lifted a stone and removed a small device that resembled a car locator. Looking up, he stumbled backwards, caught off-guard by the amazing fifty-foot tall magnolia tree in front of him. The grey asphalt walk that led to his car was lined with the great beauties. He walked a mile further down the road to his parked car.

  He raked his hand through his dark, curly hair. His mind went to the little girl in the cell. No doubt she was a prostitute, sold or kidnapped into slavery. She looked so sweet and innocent, and thin. He shook his head. A beauty among savages.

  The evil that men do…

  He pushed the button on the device, and the jailhouse he had exited just minutes before erupted in an explosion powerful enough that it rocked the ground as though an earthquake had hit. The flames shot up ten feet in the sky. He nearly collapsed from strong shaking of the earth.

  Yeah, death is hard for everybody, he thought as he sifted through his keys for the one that matched his car. He then noticed the flashing signal on his cell and decided to check his text messages. There was only one worth merit.

  “Mexico?”

  Carlos snickered. Using his thumb, he typed in a return text.

  “I’m all in.”

  Excerpt from Book 2- And The Heart Grows Fonder

  Atlanta, Georgia

  Audrianna Maxckmillian examined the report on her screen, reevaluating the Critical Assumptions she had concluded for the companies she had deemed would be successful takeovers for the coming year. She sat at an antique armoire with the laptop in front of her. She couldn’t help but glance at her reflection in the mirror. Her bald head still irked her. She squeezed her head on either side and willed herself not to be perturbed by it.

  “Mommy! Mommy! Watch me! Watch me!” Nathan, her four year old son appeared beside her.

  Audrianna laughed, “What is it baby.” She hugged him to her.

  “I’m not a baby.” He declared pushing her away.
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  She released him and he stood, posing with his hands on his hips with a very serious look on his face. He puffed out his chest and started to bob his body up and down. He started singing the beginning of a popular children’s cartoon in Russian. Audrianna had to hold her breath to keep from expressing her dismay at having to see her son perform the same act for the fourth time for the morning.

  “A!” Viktor walked in, trailing behind their daughter. His hand secured a small, bushy brown teddy bear to her shoulders. “I thought I told you to stay in your room and not to disturb your mother.”

  Nathan squealed as he climbed on top the bed, rolling himself inside the comforter.

  “Mommy! Mommy! Look it’s Chubby!” Nadia, Nathan’s twin sister showed her the teddy bear Viktor kept from falling.

  “So, is daddy following you around with that whole day?”

  “No!” Viktor was adamant.

  “Yes!” Nadia cheered.

  “Off of that bed and go to your room.” Viktor ordered Nathan.

  “No Chunky Nasty!”

  Viktor scowled. “What did you just say?!”

  Nathan giggled rolled up in the covers like a pig in the blanket. Viktor pulled the sheet towards him. Nathan wriggled.

  “I want to poo poo.” He screamed.

  “I want to pee too.” Nadia said.

  Audrianna sighed. “No you don’t.”

  “Yes mommy I want to go to the toilet too.” Nadia begged.

  Audrianna sucked her teeth in long, old fashioned, Trinidadian stupes.

  “I’ll handle it.” Viktor said. Though he knew Nathan only said he wanted to go to the bathroom to not get into trouble for what he had just said, and Nadia only wanted to go because her brother said that he wanted to.  “You continue what you are doing.” A small, soiled jockey came flying into Viktor’s chest from the direction of the doorway. He made haste to catch it with his right hand. “Nathan! You don’t have to undress to use the toilet.”

  “Ah fool you!” Nathan laughed, escaping the room.

  Viktor scowled darkly as he ran after his son. Nadia skipped behind them holding onto the legs of her teddy around her shoulders. Chubby teddy hung upside down without daddy managing to hold it in place.

  Audrianna sighed, hanging her head low in frustration before she looked back at the screen and focused on her report. A loud clash could be heard and she got up once more to search for the root of the sound. “What now?” She thought.