by K A Kron
I shook my head violently and mouthed “No!” back at him. Charlie shrugged and moved to lean against the wall.
Fueled by embarrassment and anger, I rolled Tolliver back onto the lift and moved to the controls to raise it. When the lift was flush with the sliding doors, I hopped up and pulled both attackers into the van, trying to make it look to Charlie like I was not struggling. I slid the doors shut and turned to him.
“You’re really good at this,” he said sarcastically.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’ll meet you at the warehouse in ten minutes.”
Chapter 60
After securing Tolliver and Simons in the warehouse, Charlie and I went to breakfast at Racine’s, an upscale restaurant on the southern edge of downtown. I drank orange juice while Charlie drank a bottle of beer. We ate in silence as I pondered the next step and Charlie watched me. I knew he was conflicted, as he wanted his old partner back, but he was also concerned about my relatively sudden reappearance.
I ignored his stare and concentrated on my eggs. I had stepped back across the line, and both of us knew it.
Charlie twirled the empty beer bottle on the table as I ate.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
I cut my eyes at him and added Tabasco to the eggs. “You never would have asked me that before. Why now?”
He shrugged.
“I’m in. All the way, this time.” I smiled and pointed to the beer bottle, which had stopped spinning and was facing a cute waiter. “I’ll give you ten bucks if you kiss him.”
Charlie smiled and examined the waiter, who nodded to Charlie.
“I’ve already done a lot more than just kiss that guy,” he said.
Chapter 61
After a long night at Ice House, I drove to Charlie’s warehouse and parked in the back lot. Work wasn’t the same without Oliver, and a combination of fear, sadness, and anger permeated the bar. The police were moving at an excruciatingly slow pace with the investigation, and I couldn’t help but wonder if their attitudes and motivation were being influenced by the scrutiny the department was under as a result of the Immortal scandal. Or if they were truly at a dead end with leads, as the detectives Adam spoke with claimed almost daily. Without the camera footage from the parking lot, the police had little to go on, which infuriated Adam. He spent most days alternating between ranting about the incompetence of the cops and railing at his own ineptitude concerning the blank surveillance tapes.
Charlie was shooting pool with himself as I let myself in the back of the warehouse, and he seemed to be in a good mood. It was three in the morning, and he looked fresh as a daisy. A hint of stubble shadowed his face in the warehouse light, and he was singing along with U2’s “Beautiful Day” as I walked in.
“Ugh. I hate this shit,” I said. “I thought gay guys were supposed to like Cher.”
Charlie missed the eight ball and scratched, losing the game to himself.
“Bono is a genius of a caliber the world will never know again. And I despise Cher.” Charlie threw the pool cue on the table. “Besides, that’s like saying all lesbians like Melissa Etheridge. Gross overgeneralization.”
“I actually don’t like her music,” I said.
“My point exactly. Come on, I’m getting tired, and your boys are on ice.” Charlie used a remote to switch Pandora Radio to an 80s station and bopped his head in time with Cyndi Lauper.
I hadn’t spoken to Charlie since the previous day, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if Tolliver and Simons were dead. Charlie wasn’t known for his patience. I paused.
“They’re not actually on ice, right?” I asked, looking up at the video monitor. Tolliver and Simons lay motionless on the tables, not a sound emanating from the secure room. The lack of motion told me that Charlie had been entertaining himself with them in my absence. I hoped they were still capable of speaking. Charlie had almost destroyed a previous mission by nailing a captive’s tongue to a tree in Bosnia. Only my stellar negotiating skills had saved us, and the captive finally consented to providing information in a written statement.
Charlie interrupted my thoughts. “No, that’s just an expression, Riley. They’re fine. I haven’t fed or watered them, though, so we might want to hurry it along a bit. They are starting to get lethargic.”
Charlie walked me to the door separating the front of the warehouse from his living and work space. I knew that there was a soundproof room in between the two where Tolliver and Simons were being held. It, like everything Charlie built, was equipped with state-of-the-art electronics and was designed for the single purpose of containing humans. I stopped Charlie at the door and stared into his face, hoping he would not argue.
“Charlie, I am going to do it by myself. You can watch, but this is something I want to do for Oliver.” And myself, I thought.
Chapter 62
I stepped into the space and was again shocked at the starkness of the room. It was completely white from floor to ceiling and was lit by fluorescent lights that were off the wattage spectrum. The floor sloped toward one end of the room, and drains ran along the wall. A row of white chairs were bolted to one end of the space, while tables were fixed to the floor near the drains. Various pieces of equipment were attached to one wall. A one-way mirror took up most of another wall, and I knew Charlie was on the other side watching. If I needed to speak, my voice would be digitized and disguised within the room.
Tolliver and Simons were naked and strapped to the tables, the black hoods still covering their heads. Both were shivering, and I noticed that it was cold in the room, even with clothes on. When they heard me enter the space, both lifted their heads off the tables to listen to my movements. I was convinced Charlie had been in the room and had played with them a little, just to pass time while he waited for me to get off work. As a result, Tolliver and Simons were already terrified.
As I started to unroll the garden hose affixed to the back wall, “Beautiful Day” started playing through the sound system. I shook my head and rolled my eyes toward the ceiling and turned to the mirror.
“Really?” I asked, my voice sounding like Darth Vader.
Simons started yelling.
“Hello? Hello? Can you help us? We need help!”
No shit, buddy, I thought. You’re naked and strapped to a table. Tolliver remained silent, and I decided to start with Simons.
“No one here is going to help you, Scott.” I said. “Your actions have caused you to be in this situation.”
“Wait! Who are you? How do you know my name?” Simons yelled while pulling against the restraints. I hoped Charlie had tightened them down, as Simons looked strong, despite the baby fat covering his body.
“It doesn’t matter who I am,” I said, turning on the hose and holding it over Simons’ face.
There have been ongoing debates on the U.S. government’s use of waterboarding on prisoners of war. If there is any doubt about it not being torture, let me put the debate to rest. It is torture. I have been the subject of waterboarding, and I have stood over prisoners on the other side, holding the hose and watching the horrors of the technique convince even the most hardened captive to relent. I knew that the sensation of drowning, over and over, leaves long-lasting psychological effects that reappear in the darkest of nights. As I let the water from the hose flood across the fabric of Simons’ hood, he gagged and thrashed on the table. I knew he was in danger of breaking his own ribs and stopped the flow of water.
I waited until he had calmed himself and then allowed the water to again wash over the hood. Simons gasped against the hood, choking, and struggled against the restraints. I repeated the process three more times before I decided to give Simons a rest and turn my attention to Tolliver.
He still hadn’t spoken, and I wondered if it was from fear or defiance.
“Hello, James Tolliver,” I said. My Darth Vader voice had mysteriously changed to Minnie Mouse, and I knew Charlie was playing with the audio system. I turned and waved my arms at the mirror. Even t
hough I couldn’t see him, I knew Charlie was on the floor of the observation room, laughing.
I decided to forgo speaking to Tolliver and concentrate on my waterboarding skills. Tolliver’s reaction was the same as Simons; he was just more quiet about it. Tolliver was going to be a challenge, but I knew he would break eventually. I alternated the flow of the water, allowing Tolliver to catch his breath by slowing it to a trickle and then flooding the hood with no warning. In the darkness, water flooding his lungs, Tolliver began to convulse against the table. Simons reacted by shaking, his heels beating uncontrollably against the metal table. I watched silently as Tolliver coughed the fluid from his lungs, and I was sure he wasn’t going to die.
I put my face close to Tolliver’s hooded ear as he recoiled from the sound of my voice.
“Tell me about the man you attacked outside the gay bar.” I hissed in his ear, my voice modulating thanks to Charlie’s handiwork.
He remained silent, and I walked away from him, again finding the hose. I flicked the water across Tolliver’s face and chest to let him know I had the hose in my hands.
“She will kill me,” he said, in a voice so quiet I wasn’t sure if Simons had heard him. “She has money and connections. I can’t tell you.”
I held the hose over Tolliver’s head, the water flooding his face. Tolliver thrashed against the table, and I again hoped Charlie had been diligent about tightening the restraints. When Tolliver had calmed himself again, I stood over him and allowed the water to run across the table alongside his head.
I laughed, and my voice had changed to sound like Hannibal Lecter, thanks to Charlie. It was enough to break Tolliver. Within a few minutes, I had the entire story, which seemed to revolve around Chris’s determination to destroy the staff at Ice House in retaliation for the demise of Immortal.
“Tolliver,” I said, “why did you agree to help Chris?”
Tolliver was silent behind the hood before he finally spoke.
“She wanted revenge for the bar. I needed the money. Chris gave us a thousand a piece. It was easy cash.”
“So you ambushed a gay man in a parking lot outside a gay bar. For a thousand dollars.” I was once again appalled at humanity but was cognizant enough to appreciate the irony of me torturing Tolliver and Simons. Vengeance was in the eye of the beholder, it seemed.
“I didn’t care that he was gay,” said Tolliver. “I just wanted the money. Simons is the one with the issues.” Tolliver’s voice was muffled, but I could hear the regret in his voice.
I let Tolliver rest and turned my attention back to Simons. He must have sensed the shift and started to scream in terror, the sound bouncing off the walls in competition with “Sunday Bloody Sunday.” Too bad it was still Saturday, I thought.
Chapter 63
After two more hours with Simons, I was exhausted. I entered the control room to find Charlie asleep in the chair, my adventures clearly boring him. I knew he had fallen asleep at some point because the voice modulator had gone from Darth Vader to Minnie Mouse to Hannibal Lecter and had finally settled back on Darth Vader. I didn’t know which was more terrifying to Tolliver and Simons, being waterboarded for hours or being tortured by a cast of imaginary characters. I kicked Charlie’s chair, and he stretched.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes, let’s be done. I have homework to do.” I replied.
We loaded Tolliver and Simons back in the van and stopped at a Starbucks on the way out of town. The ride along I-70 to the east took us three hours, and I was almost blind with exhaustion by the time we stopped the van on a dirt road off the highway. I slid out of the passenger seat and opened the side door on the van while Charlie manned the controls. We lowered Tolliver and Simons and dragged them into the cornfield, none of us making much noise.
Tolliver spoke for the first time in hours as Charlie dropped him unceremoniously on the dirt.
“Please don’t kill us,” he said, his voice ragged and desperate through the hood.
Charlie laughed and spit on Tolliver before turning away. I pressed a handcuff key into Simons’ hand and walked back to the van.
As we drove back toward the lights of Denver, we were quiet, and Charlie had managed to find a mellow station on Sirius. He only spoke as we entered the city limits. “This has a price, Riley. Don’t forget what it cost you last time.”
Chapter 64
I wanted badly to just head home, but my thoughts were interrupted by a text from Ali, insisting that I head to her house. After a few attempts to put her off until tomorrow, I relented and changed direction. I was exhausted as I knocked on the front door, finding it ajar. One never knows with Ali, so I headed inside without further invitation.
I never saw it coming, but I heard the crack as something made contact with my head and then my head made contact with the hard floor. I was barely conscious, aware that I was being dragged inside but unable to speak or move.
In the fuzz that was my brain, I heard yelling. “You fucking bitch. You made me lose my job. You took my girlfriend. Why can’t you leave me alone?”
Oh, Tommy Boy! He pulled me into the living room and put duct tape on my hands and feet. I pretended I was unconscious, keeping my eyes closed, barely flickering the lids to see where he was and what he was up to. I was close to being out cold and fought not to give in to the darkness. Tommy wanted me to be awake for what he had planned and paced back and forth like he was waiting for me to open my eyes. I tried to loosen my hands without being obvious, but the tape was tight, and the pulling only made my hands hurt. Shit! I guess payback is indeed a bitch. I lay there for what seemed like forever, and he started talking again, to me and to himself, rambling on about how he was going to take care of the both of us. Tommy left and came back a few minutes later, dumping something heavy on the floor. It was Ali, and she wasn’t moving. I hoped she was just out cold and not gone. Ali, too, had blood flowing from a wound on her head.
I heard the door open, ever so quietly, but couldn’t see it from where I was lying. I also needed to keep my peeking to a minimum before even this idiot realized that I was awake. Tommy didn’t react to the sound, still muttering and pacing with his back to the door. I could only hope I wasn’t imagining the sound, just wishful thinking on my part.
A minute passed, and nothing happened. And then I heard a few dull thuds and some grunts and then the unmistakable shaking and fall to the floor that could only come from a stun gun. A host of nonlethal hits had to have come from Charlie. He materialized, still with his hands on the trigger, watching Tommy out of the corner of his eye as he cut the tape on my hands loose. I pulled the tape from my mouth and took the knife Charlie handed me, freeing my ankles and heading over to Ali. Carefully I freed her as I heard Charlie give Tommy some more volts, a good long session.
I found some vinegar and broke a packet open under Ali’s nose, getting a good whiff myself, which helped my clarity a little. To my relief, she came around immediately. “Bastard.”
I had a lot of questions to ask her, but I knew we had to do something with Tommy. I looked over at Charlie. “Thanks.”
Ali got to her feet, went over, and started kicking him in the ribs. I let her go for a few seconds but then had to stop her, as much as I really wanted to let Ali continue. She looked from me to Charlie and back to Tommy. “He’s going to pay for this. I mean really pay!”
As Ali went to kick him again, Tommy came to life, grabbed her leg, and pulled her down hard, smashing her head against the floor several times before Charlie and I could get him off her. She was out again, and so was he, after we both gave him a proper beating.
Charlie looked sideways at me. “I’ll get him out of here.”
“Can you take him back to the warehouse? I don’t think anyone would be surprised to find that the drug addict disappears for weeks on end. I want to hold him, drug him over a period of time so there are needle marks that show a longer-term use, and also feed him enough to keep him alive; but he needs to look drug sick. It�
�ll get the other stuff out of his system.”
Charlie nodded quietly. “I’ll take care of it. You come around when you’re ready, you hear?”
I did hear, barely. “How did you know he had me?”
Charlie snorted. “I had the vehicle tracker for him, and I do have cameras in her place, even though you didn’t want me to.”
“Good thing you ignored me.”
I headed back inside to try to wake Ali up once again. It took a little while after I put her onto the couch to make her more comfortable. I thought briefly about taking her to the ER, if she didn’t wake up soon, but eventually she stirred.
“What happened? Where is he? He was here waiting for me. What are you doing here?”
I tried to collect myself before speaking, but I wasn’t completely successful. “I think he used your phone to text me so I would think it was you. As soon as I got here, he clobbered me.”
Ali tried not to move around too much, as her head obviously was throbbing. “Where is he?”
I shook my head. “I grabbed a bat that was propped beside your door and got a good swing at Tommy, and he took off ,after cursing me out. I’m not sure where he went. I thought about chasing him, but I was more worried about you.”
Ali tried to absorb all of it, but it was overwhelming. I held her hand, and she closed her eyes.
Chapter 65
Some time later, I sat in the passenger seat of Charlie’s truck for the drive to the warehouse. I wasn’t sure what I would find. It had been about a month since Tommy had kidnapped us, and we had kidnapped him in return. I was sure that he had some horrible torture in mind, and ultimately, our deaths. His fate may well parallel what he had planned for us. I put that out of my mind as I exited the truck and followed Charlie inside. The room had been converted into a cell of sorts, with a dirty mattress on the floor and a hole in the corner that was supposed to be a bathroom. I looked through the two-way glass to see Tommy, a shadow of his former self, now manic and strung out on a variety of drugs.
