Escape, the Complete Trilogy

by David Antocci

  “Holy shit!” Frank’s eyes went wild as he sat up straight and lifted his head trying to get away from the blade. “Abby... Abby, hey now!”

  “Kill the engine, Frank.”

  He paused, weighing his options.

  “NOW!”

  He reached forward and put the engine in neutral, effectively killing the propeller. They were dead in the water, bobbing gently on the small waves. Abby saw that the people on the beach immediately took notice.

  “Talk Frank, and do it fast.”

  “What do you want? I brought you where you wanted to go. Now, come on, Abby, put the knife down.”

  She laughed. “So you know who I am?”

  Frank looked confused for a moment, replaying what he just said back in his mind. Abby... shit, he thought. She told me her name was Annie.

  “Where are we Frank? I know this isn’t Robert’s island. Robert’s island is right next to Trial Island. Can’t be more than ten miles out. Problem is, there’s nothing within eyesight of here.”

  The beach was still the better part of fifty yards away, but Abby could see that the people had walked to the waterline and were conversing with each other, trying to figure out what was going on.

  Abby lifted the knife, pressing the flat side harmlessly against the bottom of his chin. “Last chance, Frank. Where. Are. We?”

  “Listen, don’t kill me, OK? I was just trying to make some quick money.”

  “How? Talk.”

  “There’s this guy. Tough guy. Said he’s an investigator; works for one of those big Hollywood shows. He came through the bar about a month ago talking to everyone in the place. Said he was looking for you, and he knew you were out on one of the islands. No one had seen you, but he left a handful of cards. Said he’d pay a ton of cash if you turn up and we call him first.”

  Abby thought back to what JJ said about others out here looking for her. She lowered the knife.

  Frank let out a nervous sigh. He felt as though he had been holding his breath since they started the descent. “I’m sorry. These people are paying a ton of cash, and I need it.” He reached forward to engage the propeller again.

  “Hey! What are you doing?”

  “What?”

  “I’m not talking to these people, Frank, and I’m still the one with the knife. Turn the plane around.”

  Frank studied her face, “Abby, you’re not going to kill me. Just talk to the guy, OK? He’s paying me a truckload of cash. I think they just want an exclusive interview or something. They’ll probably pay you ten times what they’re giving me.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I am.”

  They stared at each other as Abby thought. Maybe it was just an investigator trying to track her down for an exclusive. Maybe it was something else. Either way, she wasn’t about to find out. “How much are they paying you?”

  “Five grand.”

  Abby let out a whistle. “I’m going out on a limb here, but I think you’re getting taken for a ride. How about this – you turn this plane around right now and get me where I’m supposed to be in the next hour, and I’ll give you double that.”

  “Seriously?”

  Abby held up her knife. “I don’t joke around.”

  He looked at the folks on the beach as they bobbed up and down in the plane, and then looked back at Abby. “I’ve got your word?”

  “You’ll get your cash. Time is ticking.”

  “Well, hold onto your hats then!”

  Reaching forward, he engaged the propeller and pushed forward on the throttle, causing the plane to lurch forward. Abby was jostled hard in her seat.

  “You might want to put that big knife away, sweetie – it’s gonna get bumpy for a few.”

  Once the plane gained enough speed, maybe fifty feet from shore, Frank cut hard to the right to turn the plane around in the water and faced them back out toward the open sea. As they turned, Abby could see men on the beach in shorts and tee shirts running and waving their arms. There was a man leading the pack, toting a clipboard, and he finally threw it down in frustration. There was a woman in a business suit with what looked to be a microphone, along with a cameraman, who just stood by watching the plane as it turned around. She giggled a bit. These guys were desperate for a story. Maybe the world hadn’t changed all that much in ten years.

  Well, they have some footage of a man and a woman in a seaplane landing, and then turning around... I wonder how many times that will run on a loop while they speculate if it was really me?

  As the plane came around, Frank opened up the throttle, and they picked up even more speed as they bounced over the waves. The roar of the engine drowned out any other noise around, but it was music to Abby’s ears. I’ll be there soon, Robert, I’ll be there soon.

  * * *

  Pulling the phone away from his ear, Eric shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “No connection?” JJ asked.

  “No, it rang a couple dozen times. No answer.” He looked to JJ, hopeful that he would have a suggestion, “What do we do now?”

  Ace spoke up. “Looks like they’ve stopped.”

  JJ stood fast at the helm as their boat sped forward. “That can’t be good. Hopefully it’s just engine trouble or something like that. The only thing we can do is get there as fast as we can.” He looked down at the gauges and took note of the oil pressure and temperature. He hadn’t run the boat this fast for this long and was hoping he wasn’t inviting trouble.

  “What if it’s not engine trouble? Ace said it was a controlled landing. I think he meant to stop there.” Eric silently wondered whether Bryce still had men out here looking for them. Maybe there were others who had it out for Abby. It was impossible to say, and the speculation was driving him mad.

  “It’s not engine trouble,” Ace said emphatically.

  JJ called back over his shoulder, “What makes you so sure?”

  “They’re moving again.”

  “What?”

  Ace brought the tablet over to show the others, “They landed right here, about fifty yards shy of the beach. They sat for a couple of minutes. Then they just turned around. You can see they’re picking up speed.”

  “Are they in the air yet?” JJ asked.

  “No, but they will be in about thirty seconds.”

  “Blow it. Blow the charge. Keep them on the ground.”

  “WHAT? NO!” Eric shouted.

  “We keep them there. Who knows why they stopped? Did he drop her off? Pick someone up? No more games. Ace, blow the damn thing.”

  Eric pointed at Ace. “Don’t you dare. What if they just had to... I don’t know, stop for gas?”

  “They weren’t there long enough, and we’re running out of time. Now, blow it!” JJ called.

  “Don’t! Fine, no gas, Maybe he just had to take a piss, and now you’re going to blow them up and kill Abby!”

  “Fifteen seconds,” Ace said calmly.

  JJ tried to match Ace’s calm tone, “She’ll be fine. As long as they’re not airborne, she’ll be fine. She might not even be on the plane anymore. We blow it, keep it in the water, and take her from there. No more detours.” He stared at Eric, waiting for him to concede.

  “Five seconds,” Ace called out.

  JJ looked to Ace. “Do it.”

  “No!”

  “Do it, Ace!” JJ shouted.

  “No!” Eric tackled Ace as he began punching in a code. Given the height and weight advantages Ace had, it was more of a collision than a tackle, but it caused him to lose his balance and fall backwards onto the bench seat at the back of the boat. The tablet sailed over the back and disappeared into the engine’s wake behind them.

  “Shit!” Eric hadn’t intended for that to happen.

  JJ looked back to see the two men looking off the back of the boat and, upon seeing that Ace’s hands were empty, quickly figured out what happened. “I’ll come around to pick it up.”

  Ace shook his head and called back, “Don’t bother. It’s twe
nty feet down by now and sinking fast.” He looked at Eric. “Nice.”

  Eric gulped and asked, “Are they still in the air?”

  “Can’t say for sure,” Ace said. “But you got your wish – we didn’t disable the plane, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  Eric exhaled. He was thankful for that.

  * * *

  “Can I at least call to let them know what happened?” Frank asked.

  “No. Get us where we are going. You can call them when we get there.” Abby was in no mood to be trifled with any more. She didn’t want Frank telling them where they were going either. She wanted to be greeted by Robert upon her arrival, not some Hollywood reporter looking for an exclusive and apparently willing to kidnap her to get it.

  That did give her an idea, though. She shuffled things around in her satchel until she found the phone JJ had given her. She hit the speed dial and heard his voice on the other end of the line after barely a ring.

  “Oh, thank God!” he said.

  “What?”

  “You’re alright?” JJ asked.

  “We had a minor problem, but I’m fine. Why?”

  “We’re tracking you and saw that the plane had stopped. We were a little worried.”

  “Tracking me? What right do you have to be tracking me? I’m not a child that needs to be looked after JJ.”

  “Listen, I promised Robert that we would get you there. We’re just taking every precaution we can to make sure that happens. It’s nothing personal.”

  Abby sighed, “Well, I’m fine. I appreciate your concern, but really, there’s nothing to worry about here.”

  “Good. What happened?”

  “Nothing. I’ll explain it when I see you. Everything alright on your end?”

  “We’ll be there tonight, late, around ten or so, but yes, we’re fine.”

  “You’re not going to rest tonight?”

  “Naw. Eric’s excited to see you.” That’s true anyway, JJ thought.

  “Well, be safe, and don’t rush on my account. We’re fine.”

  “OK then,” JJ said. “I’ll call ahead and let Robert know that you’re still on track and will be there soon.”

  After they hung up, Abby sat looking out the window. Tracking me? She sighed. Part of her was a little insulted. Haven’t I proven that I can take care of myself? She knew he was just doing a thorough job, though. There was no doubt Robert was paying a huge sum to make sure Abby was kept safe. It made her smile to know that he cared so deeply for her, and she gave up feeling insulted.

  * * *

  When the phone rang, Robert had been sitting in his garden watching the skyline like a little boy waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve. He spoke with JJ for a few minutes, hung up with a smile on his face, and flagged down one of his security men.

  “Greg, where are the other guys?”

  Greg checked his watch. “Just wrapping up lunch. Why, do you need something?”

  Robert couldn’t stop smiling, “I’ve got some big news. Let’s join them in the kitchen, and I’ll tell you all at once.”

  He hadn’t told anyone yet. The small production team occupied several guest homes that were out of sight of the main house. Aside from the technician who would perform the procedure to unlock Abby’s memories and the staff psychologist who would guide her through the confusion over the next few days, none of them needed to know of her return. They were occupied with the current season and rarely noticed anything else going on around them anyway.

  He would speak with the tech and the psychologist when the time came, but seeing as how Abby was less than an hour away, Robert decided to notify his small personal security team that she was coming home. The security team for the production crew didn’t need to know, nor did anyone else.

  In the kitchen, the other two men were just putting away the plates from their lunch when Robert started in, telling them Abby would be there soon. “There is no need to bring in extra security. Bryce is dead, as you know.”

  Mike, Robert’s longest-tenured guard and de facto leader of the small team spoke up, “With all due respect, sir, I think that’s our call. Mr. Haydenson is no longer a factor, but when word gets out that she’s here, I expect the press to descend on this place within twenty-four hours. Probably quicker.”

  “So, let’s not let word get out, but just in case, close the gates and monitor the parameter,” Robert said, attempting to mock Mike’s serious tone. “There will be some news cameras out there. They can take all the video they want from outside the gates. I don’t really care about that. The last time we brought in extra detail, we needed to protect Abby from a killer, and it was a fiasco. Half the guys were Bryce’s men. We’re not protecting her life this time, just her privacy. The last thing we need are a couple of reporters getting in here masquerading as security. I think we’ve learned that having back-up is more trouble than it’s worth.”

  He looked at Greg, who had been on staff as back-up security the night Bryce tried to take Abby. He had suffered a broken nose and orbital socket that night at the hands of that lunatic. His face still didn’t look right because of it. “No offense, Greg.”

  “None taken, sir.”

  “You’re one of the good ones, but there were plenty of guys on that crew that weren’t playing for our team,” Robert continued. “Now, she’ll be landing via seaplane at the beach within the hour. Greg, I’d like you to be on the beach with me to meet them. We’ll pay off the pilot to keep his mouth shut, but I’d like you to give him some added incentive. Again, we’re just trying to keep things quiet here. Questions?”

  Greg had a bit of a nervous look when he spoke up. “Sir, I appreciate your confidence, but I think Mike is your man for the beach. We all know he’s the strong arm around here.” He smiled, attempting levity, but it was clear he was not interested in being part of the Abby welcoming committee.

  “Oh, have more confidence in yourself Greg,” Robert said. “Mike, Ted, let’s lock up the gates. Greg, you’re with me.”

  16

  THIRTEEN TIME ZONES away in Chicago, Bryce stood scowling out the window at the dreary skyline overlooking Lake Michigan. It had been nearly six months since he faked his own death and had been living in relative secrecy.

  He had spent several months and a small fortune trying to figure out where Abby was hiding. He had a crew of six guys scouring the islands and interrogating the locals, but they turned up nothing. Not even a hint that anyone had seen her. He spent two months himself island hopping, with no luck. Realistically, he had to admit there was just too much ground to cover and not enough men to do it. He would go broke or get his legs broken, or both, if he kept it up.

  He had ignored the duties he had to his boss and to the organization, and he was warned that things were going to come to a head very soon if he didn’t get his shit together and get back home. He was pissed, he was panicked, and he had to make sure she kept her mouth shut. Abby dead seemed to be the best way to go about that.

  Somehow, she knew who he was and that she should avoid him. He had no idea how she possessed this information, as she was supposed to be missing the last ten years of her memory, but the fact was, she did. She would never come out of hiding as long as she knew he was out there waiting for her, trying to find her.

  That’s when he hatched an ingenious plan: to fake his own death. He had to make it big and spectacular. Something that would make the news, and therefore make its way back to Abby. Once she knew he was dead, he was sure she would come out of hiding. Who could give up ten years of their life like that?

  He went to his boss, Mr. Rosso, with the plan. It was risky, and he needed manpower and the boss’s blessing to make it work. Mr. Rosso was skeptical at first, but once Bryce explained how he would benefit, he was all for it. Like any business organization, the mob had their top performers, the top ten percent, where Bryce and a select few resided. After that, there was a solid eighty percentage of middle-of-the-road guys, making a living and loyal to the organizati
on. It was the bottom ten percent that, like any manager, concerned Mr. Rosso the most. These were sleezeballs – guys loyal to the almighty dollar instead of the family.

  Bryce’s plan was to get these guys together on a job, make sure the authorities got tipped off, and then make sure they were slaughtered like lambs – including him. Bryce recruited the guys that they wanted to get rid of, with promises of huge personal cuts above the norm, and they took the bait. The plan came together over the course of a couple weeks to make it look legit. All in all, there were eight men, plus Bryce, who would pull the job. Four more would man the getaway cars and act as lookout. There was also one more that no one but Bryce knew about, and he would be the key to making sure everything came together.

  The day came. They would hit the bank at the end of the business day, when there would be the most cash. There was an empty warehouse on the same block as the bank, behind the building. That was their staging area. Getaway cars were set on all four corners of the block. Bryce would be inside the bank itself and give them the go when the time was right. The plan was set.

  The FBI received an anonymous envelope twenty-four hours beforehand containing the blueprint for the heist. There were drawings of the warehouse and the rest of the block, mapping out their approach. There were also descriptions of the getaway cars and their locations, along with a roster of names. From inside the bank, at five minutes to five, Bryce called the number two man in the warehouse.

  “It’s time,” he said, then clicked off the phone.

  The plan was for the crew to exit the warehouse, come down the alley next to the bank, and enter through the front door with an immediate show of force. The crew exited the warehouse, guns drawn and made it halfway down the alley.

  “FREEZE, FBI!” came a booming voice.

  The men found themselves surrounded by dozens of agents clad in black and weapons hot. The men in the getaway cars were pulled from their vehicles and arrested at the same time.

  From inside the bank, Bryce waited for the sound that would seal the deal. Suddenly, the crack of several gunshots rang out next to the bank, quickly followed by an eruption of gunfire. Bryce’s other man, the one only he knew about, was situated in an apartment above the alley. He never showed his face – just reached out the window, blindly fired three shots down into the ally, and fled the scene like a bat out of hell.