Tied to the Stern

by Mark Stone

  “You didn’t do all of this in a day,” I said, piecing things together. “No one would be capable of that, not even the government. You’ve had this planned out for awhile. You had me planned out for awhile.”

  “Would that upset you?” Merriman asked, though his face betrayed none of the emotion he must have been feeling.

  “It doesn’t matter if it would upset me or not,” I said. “You made decisions about me and my future without my consent. That’s a violation of my civil liberties.”

  “And yet you’re still going to help us,” Merriman said.

  I glared at the man, taking a step forward. “Is that a threat?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s an observation,” he answered. “You’re right. As soon as we saw your work and were made aware of your matching scar, we knew there was a chance you might be able to help us with this. We acted accordingly, just in case the situation arose, and now it has.”

  “And you think I’m just going to jump to attention like some obedient puppy dog?” I countered.

  “I know people, Storm,” Merriman said. “It’s part of my job, the biggest part, actually. I look at you, and I see someone who puts the big picture first. You might be upset about what we did, and you might want to quit this, but you won’t. You know this is more important than your feelings. You know helping the countless people that your actions will help comes before your emotions. It might even come before what’s right and wrong.” He shook his head again. “So, yeah, you’re going to do this, and you’re going to do the best damn job of your life at it. Or am I wrong?”

  I stared at Merriman for a long moment, reading his face and considering all he just said. As much as I hated to admit it, he did know people, and he just read me like a book.

  “What do I have to do?” I muttered begrudgingly.

  “We sent word that Al Davidson was going to be transferred by armored car to a different facility tomorrow afternoon,” Davidson said. “It was bait, and luckily for us, the Archer took it. Our intel tells us he’s planning on apprehending the man during transit tomorrow. We know this because he’s already reached out to Al Davidson’s girlfriend and provided her with coordinates for a meeting tomorrow evening.” Merriman motioned to Natasha. “We believe the Archer intends on flying both of them to St. Thomas immediately following the apprehension and welcoming Davidson into the family officially there. All we have to do is make sure he gets the right Davidson.”

  I looked at the computer screen again, at my face and the name under it. “Which means, of course-”

  “That when the Archer’s people take out that armored truck tomorrow, they’re going to find you inside. You better sleep well, Dillon Storm. We have a big day in front of us tomorrow.”

  Chapter 9

  As I walked to the armored car where I was meant to be transported to another holding location, I decided orange wasn’t my color. Pretending to be Al Davidson, I stood dressed in a prison outfit. That wasn’t all, though. My hair had been cut, and my hands and feet were shackled in chains. Guards walked on either side of me and I kept my head down, the way I’d seen prisoners do during so many of these walks.

  I had my reservations about this. The officers beside me were my first concern. Though they were in on this and knew exactly what they were getting themselves into, they were in a lot more danger than me. If the intel Merriman had about the Archer’s motives was accurate, and I had no reason to believe it wasn’t, then Al Davidson was supposed to be brought safely to St. Thomas. I wouldn’t be hurt here, at least, not theoretically. These officers, though, I had little doubt the Archer didn’t give a damn about what happened to them. They were putting their lives on the line, and they knew it.

  My first instinct was to thank them. Of course, I knew I couldn’t do that. The Archer’s people were probably watching us right now. The ploy started the second I walked out into view and very likely wouldn’t stop until all of this was over. I couldn’t do anything to blow my cover, even something as insignificant as speaking to these officers. I figured if Al Davidson wouldn’t have anything to say to these guards, then neither should I.

  The shackles rubbed against my wrists and ankles uncomfortably. If everything else in my life hadn’t already pushed me away from a life of crime, the way these clothes and chains felt today certainly would have. Though I knew this was fake, though I knew I wasn’t actually the person I was pretending to be, there was a piece of me that felt like a pariah. It seemed like I was on stage, like I had been judged and found lacking, like this was my punishment.

  I shook my head just slightly in an attempt to dislodge those thoughts and feelings. They had no place here. If I was going to pretend to be Al Davidson for the foreseeable future, then I was going to have to be better at it, damnit. I was going to have to at least be good enough to convince myself.

  Nearing the back of the van, I eyed the area as one of the guards slung the door open. If anyone was out here, I couldn’t see them. Of course, that was probably the point. And the thing was, it wouldn’t matter if I did see them. There would be nothing to do. Unlike every other time I’d ever gone out on a case, there was no stopping this. There was no one to warn, nothing to do. The police already knew this was happening, and it was what they wanted. This crime had to happen to stop others from going down. I was okay with that, even if it meant we were about to get into some trouble.

  I cleared my throat as I made my way into the the back of the van, chains clanking on me as I climbed up and thrust myself in. My heart was racing, but I wouldn’t say I was nervous. I was more focused than that. Still, there was an excitement to this that was unlike anything I’d ever faced before. This was strange. It was new. It was exhilarating.

  As the second of the two guards climbed in behind me and slammed the door shut, I let out a sigh of relief and sat down on the bench. I knew better than to talk, though. We had no idea how closely we were being watched here, and blowing our cover once inside of the armored car would be worse than doing it even before we got in. It would put everyone in danger and invalidate the mission we signed up for.

  Instead, we continued the ruse going, with me sitting on the bench and each guard sitting on either side of me, both holding their firearms in their hands. It was a masterclass in pretense. Though they both knew I was no danger to them, protocol dictated that was the way they were supposed to act. So, they did it. In fact, everything was all textbook with the exception of one small thing.

  A black box sat on the bench beside me. Without making eye contact or moving much of anything but his right hand, the guard beside it subtly nudged it toward me; a sign for me to take it.

  I did, opening the box to find an earpiece. Taking a deep breath, I plucked it from the box and put it on, pressing the power button firmly once it was in place.

  “Storm, it’s me,” Merriman’s voice sounded throughout my head. “Don’t respond. I couldn’t hear you if you did. That armored car is a strict ‘no outgoing signals’ zone. I’m going to assume you’re smart enough to listen and silently agree. Don’t make me regret that.”

  He waited a beat, as though this was a two sided conversation even though he just told me not to talk. Finally, he continued. “We have some new intel, fresh this morning. Apparently, the Archer’s new people are very close to cracking through Tex’s security protocols. My sources expect them to be into the files by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

  My chest tightened. If Tex’s files were exposed, then it would lay bare all the vetting he did for the Archer’s recruits, including Al Davidson. It would expose me as a fraud and, more than likely, an officer. Once on St. Thomas, that would practically be like signing my death warrant. I wanted to respond, to say any or all of this, but I didn’t, of course. I just sat stalwart, listening as were my instructions.

  “That changes the mission some,” Merriman said. “As of this moment, your first order of business once you touchdown on St. Thomas is to find Tex’s computer and clear it of everything
. We don’t want them having any information at all. That’s especially true about you in this moment. Get to that computer and get rid of the info. Also, I’m going to need you to hold on tight. The Archer’s people placed stakes in the road a few hundred feet up from your current position. Slowing down would be too suspicious. So, I’m afraid you guys are going to have to hit them full speed, which probably doesn’t say much about your chances of staying right side up.”

  I fumbled for my seatbelt, but it was too late. As the words left Merriman’s mouth, I heard the pop of exploding tires and the jerk of the armored car as it pulled hard and then went sailing into the air.

  Chapter 10

  My heart leapt up into my throat as the armored car lunged into the air. We knew we were going to be accosted by the Archer’s men, but nowhere during our preparations did we talk about the possibility of going airborne.

  As the vehicle slammed against the road, turning over again and again while sending me bouncing around the inside of the damn thing like a pinball in a machine, I thought about how ineffective an idea this was. I was supposed to be Al Davidson, a big operative for the Archer, a prized commodity. And, at this moment, he had okayed a course of action that could severely injure me or worse. As the armored car came to a halt upside down, depositing me hard against the now flat lying roof, one thing became very clear to me. Al Davidson wasn’t nearly as important to the Archer as his silence was.

  “Are you guys okay?” I asked, my throat dry and sore and my head spinning.

  “Keep your mouth shut,” one of the guards, the one closest to me, said in a hushed and panicked whisper. “They’re coming.”

  As I heard steps clapping against the pavement outside, I was met with both a bit of exhilaration and and a sense of comradery. This guy had just been through a very unexpected trauma, and his first instinct wasn’t to freak out or head for the hills. He was still focused on the mission, still focused on me not blowing my cover. That was an officer I could get behind. Now all I had to do was make sure he, the other officer, and the driver weren’t killed by these criminals as they extracted me from this transport vehicle. I had little doubt that a group of people will to send a two ton automlible straight up into the air wouldn’t stop at murdering the police officers inside of it.

  I took a deep breath, scanning the inside of the car for the other officer. FInding him, I saw that he looked to unconscious. While that meant he very likely needed medical help, it also might have been a good thing. Unconscious meant no fighting back, which meant there would be no need to fight and injure him. As I heard the people on the other side of the door scramble with trying to open it, I looked at the conscious officer at my side.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “Just go with it, okay?”

  “Go with what?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “And I told you to keep your mouth sh-”

  As he spoke, the doors swung open, flooding the interior with light. As it did, I swung my hands, still in chains, over the guard’s head. I pulled tightly around his neck and twisted my arms. Though I wasn’t trying to actually cut off his air supply, I had to make it look convincing enough that the guys coming for me wouldn’t think he was a viable threat to them. It was the only way I knew to ensure he wouldn’t be hurt.

  To his credit, the guard seemed to understand what I was doing immediately. As each of us caught sight of the people on the other side of the door, a tall man with gray hair and a shorter woman with red, he struggled for a half a second and then went limp. Because I knew I hadn’t been ‘choking’ him for nearly long enough for him to lose consciousness, I knew this was all a ploy. The crooks coming to spring Al Davidson from this place didn’t know that, though. I pulled the chains from around the man’s neck, shooting the pair of criminals a sour scowl.

  “Took you long enough,” I muttered, looking from one of the guards to the other. “I had to take care of both of these scumbags myself.”

  “We’ll be sure to give you a gold star when you come out here then,” the woman said, motioning for me to leave the back of the car.

  “The driver was unconscious, too,” the taller man said as I crawled toward the exit, chains clanking at my hands and feet. “But we can still waste them, if you want.”

  “I don’t see where that’s necessary,” I said. Though my heart sped up with dread, I did my best to keep my voice calm and mellow. I needed them to believe I wouldn’t care if these officers were murdered in front of me. “Wasted time. Wasted bullets. Who needs it?”

  “He wasn’t talking to you, Davidson!” the woman said without looking at me. “Though you do have a point. A crowd’s going to gather before long, even on a backroad like this. We need to be out of here when they do.”

  Climbing out of the back of the turned over car, I took a deep breath. The Florida air was crisp and cool today, and it smelled of the water.

  Standing, I remembered that this was my moment of truth. If this man and woman somehow knew I wasn’t Al Davidson, not only would they kill me and these guards right here and now, but it would also destroy the mission and make all the work done by so many good people useless. I had to sell it. I had to act the part.

  “Can you get these damn cuffs off me already?” I barked, glaring from one of them to the next. “I’m not sure what the Archer is paying you, but it’s too damn much. You flipped a truck over to get me out. You have any idea how unnecessarily stupid that was.”

  “We were told to get you by any means necessary,” the woman replied. “Dead or alive.”

  “Is that supposed to upset me?” I asked, taking a step toward her. “You think I don’t know what I signed up for? You think I’m expecting the Archer to give me a big ol’ bear hug and tell me how special I am. I know I’m expendable, just like I know you’re expendable. Let’s see which one of us is more expendable once the Archer finds out what a spectacle you’ve made of this.”

  “What?” the redhead asked, looking up at me.

  “Want to know something about cops?” I barked. “They don’t like to advertise their failures. If you’d have done this a normal way, then the public at large would have been none the wiser that it ever even happened. The cops around here would have buried it while they ran around town trying to find me and make up for their mistake. But you practically set off an explosion. You caused property damage and flipped a damn truck on the highway. We’re about ten minutes away from news cameras being on the scene. You might as well have sent up a freaking signal flare.”

  I could tell from her expression, widening eyes and a pale face, that I was getting to her.

  “Calm down,” I spit out, reading her face. “I’ll tell the Archer you didn’t have a choice. I’ll tell him they fought back and it was the only way.”

  “And why would you do that?” she asked, her face growing hard.

  “Because,” I said, leaning in. “Now you owe me.” Pulling back, I thrusted my hands forward. “Like I said, get these damn cuffs off me.”

  As she nodded for the man to comply with ym wishes, I knew I had passed this hurdle. Of course, I also knew it was the first of many hurdles I’d have to pass.

  This was just getting started.

  Chapter 11

  “Here,” the red haired woman said as I climbed into the backseat of the silver SUV still running and pulled off the side of the road. Looking up, I saw she was handing me an envelope of some sort, one of those large manilla ones, though it bulged out in the middle. “Payment for the last run.”

  Grabbing it, I realized what I was holding was drug money. The realization made my stomach sour. I had seen so many good people let their lives fall away to nothing over drugs. The idea that I was holding profits from that tragedy (and pretty sizable profits, if the weight of the envelope was any indicator) made me want to throw it back in their faces and arrest them on the spot. I knew better than to do that, though. This was about a much bigger fish. So, I took solace in that fact as well as the fact that, when the Archer went down, the shockwave
would take all of his little cronies down with him.

  “We weren’t too happy about your arrest,” the woman said, motioning for the taller man to drive, which he did wordlessly.

  “That makes two of us,” I muttered, tossing the envelope on the seat and crossing my arms over my chest. Though the taller man cut the connections between the shackles binding my arms and legs, the remnants were still there, cuffs and chains hanging loosely from my appendages. They clanged as I shuffled.

  “That’s funny,” the woman said. “The Archer won’t think so, though. He doesn’t like it when his people screw up, and I can’t think of a bigger way to screw up than getting the police involved.”

  I leaned forward, glaring at the woman as she looked at me in the rearview mirror. “What’s your name?”

  “And why does that matter?” the woman asked, her stare equally as intense as my own.

  “Because I’d like to know exactly whose job I’m taking,” I said without blinking.

  “Excuse me?” the woman asked, stiffening in her seat as we made a left.

  “That has to be it,” I responded. “The way you’re acting, the childish and combative way you’re speaking to me. Hell, even the way you looked at the envelope when you handed it to me was telling.” I glanced at the manilla thing quickly before turning my attention back to the woman. “It’s impressive, isn’t it? All that money in such a short period of time. I’m impressive. You’re threatened by me. There’s only so much room at the top and I’m about to take some of it. I’m guessing the Archer is the kind of guy who’ll only let a certain number of people kiss his ring at any given time. You’re afraid I’m going to take your spot.”

  The woman scoffed. “You’re a -“

  “You should be,” I said, piecing together what really happened with the armored car. She was careless about it, not because the Archer didn’t care if Al Davidson lived or died, but because she wanted him dead. She wanted the competition eliminated.