Escape, the Complete Trilogy

by David Antocci

  His driver had been with him only a few months now. He was a boisterous guy who didn’t really know when to keep his mouth shut. He rolled down the partition, “Everything OK back there, boss?”

  “No, Jake. No. Everything is not OK.”

  “Anything I can do, boss?”

  “Not unless this limo can get to Montreal faster than a plane.”

  Jake thought about it a second. “Sorry, boss. She can haul, but can’t do that.” He thought a moment. “If you need a plane, boss, we’re at the right place.”

  “You don’t say?” Bryce said sarcastically. “Turns out there’s a flight to Montreal right now actually, probably pulling away from the gate as we speak. The problem is that I’m not on it, and I need to be there when it lands.”

  Jake looked back in the mirror, “You know, boss, my cousin works at the private terminal. He’s a bartender at their fancy club over there. I used to drive his clients all the time.”

  “That’s great, Jake.”

  “What I’m sayin’ is, he knows all the pilots. Tells me there’s always a half dozen or so sitting around with empty planes and nothin’ to do. Maybe you can catch a ride over there.”

  Bryce’s eyes lit up. “Bring me there now!”

  * * *

  Looking out the window, Abby watched the Chicago skyline grow smaller by the second. As the wing dipped and the plane veered toward the Northeast, gaining altitude over Lake Michigan, the skyline disappeared entirely.

  She was getting increasingly nervous about seeing Ava. Her sister had assured her that her daughter was beyond excited to be together again, but Abby was worried. What if she hates me? She has every right to. I chose a maniac for her father. I lied to her and abandoned her hundreds of miles from everything she knew and loved.

  The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that it was the right decision to meet her without Eric first so they could really talk over this weighty stuff. Once they were alright, she would bring Eric into the mix. It might take a little extra time, but she wanted to make sure that things were right between her and her daughter.

  * * *

  What Bryce loved about “legitimate” businessmen, especially those successful enough to own planes, was that first and foremost they’re in the business of making money. It was only a five-minute drive from the international terminal to the private terminal, but Bryce had Jake call ahead anyway. He did not have a minute to lose.

  Jake spoke to his cousin, who put him in touch with Barry, a retired teacher and now pilot. Barry and his G650, or more appropriately his employer’s, had come in a few hours ago on a short flight from upstate New York. Barry’s employer, a Wall Street CEO, was tied up until the following morning. Essentially, this perfectly good plane had nothing to do until then, and Barry’s boss was more than willing to take ten thousand dollars for a couple hours of its use to make the quick trip across the border to Montreal.

  It took a little while, but after getting the necessary clearances, Barry and Bryce were rocketing down the small runway and quickly gaining altitude. Abby and Eric had a forty-minute head start. Once they reached cruising altitude, Bryce looked down at his watch and asked the male flight attendant, “How fast does this thing go?”

  “Officially, six hundred and ten miles per hour, but if the wind is right. it’s a little faster.”

  Bryce was staring at his watch and doing some quick math in his head. “Tell the pilot if he gets us there inside of two hours, there’s another five grand in it for him.”

  The attendant smiled at Bryce. “Absolutely, sir. I’ll pass on the message. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Scotch. Whatever you’ve got is fine, I’m sure.”

  “Very good.”

  The attendant disappeared forward and into the cockpit. When he reappeared and gave his passenger the thumbs up a few minutes later, Bryce felt the airspeed increase as the small private jet quickly gained additional altitude.

  He checked his phone and found no signal, though he wasn’t surprised. He grabbed the air phone from its holder, secure on the wall. He figured he was paying enough; he could use the phone if he damn well pleased.

  Bryce made a few phone calls, including one to his boss, which he didn’t want to make, but he was desperate. No one had any solid connections in Montreal. It was, literally, a foreign land, and Bryce and his people had no business there.

  He called the attendant over. “I’m going to need a car the moment we touch down. Literally, the minute we’re on the ground, I need to get in and go. Is that possible?”

  The attendant nodded. “Certainly. sir. There’s an executive rental lot right in the terminal. If you’d like to give me your information, I’d be happy to arrange that for you.”

  Bryce smiled as he handed over one of his fake ID’s and a credit card. Damn, he thought. I could get used to this.

  He looked out the window, nervously tapping his foot on the floor. He still didn’t know where they were going once they were on the ground. He couldn’t count on just finding them by dumb luck, though if he did, he wouldn’t hesitate to take them out the second he saw them. Hell, he would execute them on the tarmac if given the opportunity. If he was going to spend some time in jail, there were worse places to be than Canada.

  He stared at his phone for a few minutes before he realized why. Greg was supposed to call him, but obviously couldn’t while he was in the air. If Greg were calling him, he wouldn’t get the message until they touched down, and he was the one getting the information Bryce needed. He used the air phone again to call Greg, “Have you found anything?”

  “I might have something. One of the other guys said he heard Robert talking to Abby about getting back together with someone. He assumed it was family from the way they were talking. Does that help at all?”

  Bryce took a deep breath. “Not really anything I didn’t already know. You have to find out where they’re going.”

  “Will do, sir. I’ll call you the moment I have something. I know what I have to do.”

  27

  ABBY AND ERIC were less concerned about being recognized once they were on the ground. Abby had turned on the television on the seatback of the plane, and while flipping past the news she saw Eric’s face in a still shot next to a blonde in the airport.

  The host, a twenty something brunette that looked good in a low-cut shirt and could read a teleprompter, was talking excitedly, “There has been an official Eric sighting in Chicago! He stopped and spoke with some fans, signed a few autographs, and then it appeared that airport police arrested him just a few minutes later. Details are few right now, but this has to beg the question, where’s Abby?”

  What. The. Hell? Abby couldn’t believe what she was seeing at the time. When they got off the plane she walked out to the taxi stand where she had planned to meet Eric. “So, the cat’s out of the bag?”

  He just gave her a blank stare.

  “I saw you on the news about an hour ago.”

  “Yeah, so...” He went on to explain what had happened. “At least you weren’t with me, right?”

  As they hailed a cab, she noticed a small business jet coming in for a landing in the distance. Nudging Eric, she nodded her head toward the jet, “Must be nice to travel like that, huh?”

  “You should have asked your pal, Robert. I’m sure he’s got a couple of those floating around. We probably could have caught a quicker ride.”

  “No, he’s done enough for me. Besides, I kind of want to do this on my own, you know? I love Robert, but he’s been pulling the strings for a while. I still can’t believe he had Ace following me, but thank God he was, I guess. I feel terrible about leaving him like that back in Chicago, but I’m sure he’ll be fine. Security was there, and the bad guy was unconscious, so what could I have done except screw up our plans?”

  “No, you’re right. You definitely did the right thing. I bet JJ was there too, so I’m sure things are being taken care of.”

  Abby sighed.
“Robert is well-intentioned anyway.”

  “He just cares about you, that’s all. When you have that much money, you don’t have much of a reference for anything being out of your control. I’m sure the thought of you going back out into the world and getting hurt again drives him nuts.”

  “I guess,” Abby said as they hopped into a cab.

  “Traveling light today?” the cabby asked with a vague Canadian accent.

  “Indeed we are.”

  “American?”

  “Yes,” Eric nodded.

  “Oh, good, I can drop the bullshit accent,” the cabby said as he pulled from the curb. “I’ll tell you, the people around here, the locals, if you’re American, they barely tip you. Another driver clued me in on that a few years back when I was pissin’ about not making any tips. Name is Jack, but I started talkin’ like it was Jacques, and all of a sudden the locals found their wallets. Go figure.” He paused as he merged toward the exit. “So where to today?”

  Abby read him an address in Saint-Colbert from a small note tucked in her satchel.

  “Nice place. Colbert that is. Family?”

  “Yes,” Abby said. “Going to see my daughter.”

  Jack looked at her in the rearview mirror. “I know you’re not supposed to ask a lady her age, but your daughter? There’s no way you got a kid old enough to live on her own.”

  Abby laughed. “Well, I hope not. Thank you. She’s staying with my sister. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

  “Oh, well, that makes more sense. My son, he went to stay with his grandparents up there earlier this summer. They’ve got a place out near the St. Lawrence River. I couldn’t afford to take the time off, so I sent him on his own. I wanted him to experience nature and be able to enjoy himself, even though I couldn’t be there. Didn’t see the kid for a week; drove me nuts! I love that little guy. I’d do anything for him.”

  Abby chuckled. “We will do anything for our kids, that’s for sure.”

  “How long has it been?” Jack asked.

  Lost in thought looking out the window, Abby swallowed hard to keep from choking up. Her voice was a little shaky when she said, “A little more than a year.”

  Jack looked up in the rearview again. “No shit? Wow. Sorry to hear that, but hey, the good news is you’re on your way, right?”

  “Right,” Abby smiled.

  As he drove down the road, Jack punched the information into his GPS and announced, “I’ll have you back to your little girl in thirty eight minutes flat. Sound good?”

  “Sounds great!” Abby said, taking Eric’s hand and squeezing it tight, her moist eyes meeting his.

  Eric looked into the eyes of the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. In his heart, he wanted to ask her right then and there. He could even feel the words forming in his mouth. But his head knew better. This wasn’t the time, and he knew that. Today was about Abby and Ava. She had enough on her plate. He decided he would do it soon, though. After a few weeks, once they were settled back into their villa with Ava. He would pick out a ring while they were here since there wasn’t much for fine jewelry on the island, and he would do it right. Something simple and understated. She would like that.

  Abby saw the big smile on his face a second before Eric turned away to look out the window, watching the world pass by.

  “What’s going on in your head over there?” she asked.

  He turned, still smiling. “What?”

  “Don’t what me. You’re up to something.”

  “Nothing for you to worry about,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  * * *

  Greg found Robert alone in his office, on the phone.

  “You still haven’t heard from Ace? What do you think happened?” He paused with the phone to his ear, long enough to wave Greg in the door and listen to what was being said on the other end. “I agree JJ, something isn’t right.” He paused, listening, and then shuffled some papers around on his desk before finding the right one and reading from it, “Yes, that’s it. Saint-Colbert, that’s right. Call me once they get there. Very good.” He clicked off the phone and looked up at Greg, “That’s JJ, still trying to figure out what the hell happened in Chicago. His brother just vanished, and then the thing with Eric. Something is wrong.” His voice trailed off as he looked down at his papers.

  “So, what’s in Montreal anyway?” Greg casually asked Robert.

  “What’s that?”

  “Just curious why Abby’s going to Montreal?”

  “Oh, that’s a long story, but thank you for making the arrangements. Not many folks know they’re back. I just wanted to keep things in our small circle for now, so I appreciate that.”

  “No problem, sir.” Greg waited for Robert to continue, but he didn’t. “So, Montreal?”

  “Oh, yes. Like I said, it’s a long story. Have you guys turned up anything on Eric’s problem at the airport? Don’t you think it’s strange?”

  Greg shook his head. “No, sir, nothing yet. Didn’t JJ say there were a bunch of fans around? A few of them probably just got carried away. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “That’s the thing, though. He said that a couple of guys grabbed Eric and were taking him from the airport, or at least it looked that way. It just doesn’t feel right. Almost no one knew of their travel plans. Even if Bryce still had friends who had it in for Abby, how would they know? It just seems too coincidental.”

  Greg stood on the far side of the large desk, staring at Robert and wondering if someone so smart could truly be so dumb. Robert was already asking questions; already sniffing around. It was only a matter of time before either he or someone else put everything together, so Greg decided to speed up the process.

  Taking his gun from under his jacket, he pointed it at Robert’s chest. “Montreal. Tell me where she’s going.”

  Robert looked up, stunned to see the weapon pointed at him. It didn’t look quite right, but after a second he realized that was because there was a silencer attached to the end of the pistol. “What the hell is this, Greg? Put that thing away.”

  Greg stepped closer to Robert. “I like you Robert. Do not make me ask you again. Where is Abby going in Montreal?”

  As the initial shock wore off, recognition and understanding filled Robert’s eyes. “It was you? Why, Greg?”

  “That’s not important right now. What is important is that you tell me where she is going, and you tell me fast.”

  Robert stood tall, “No, I’m not telling you a thing.”

  “Don’t test me.”

  Robert took a step closer, closing the gap between them to just a few feet. “Are you going to shoot me? Then what? Sorry to tell you Greg, but I’ve faced tougher guys than you in my day.” They stared hard at each other, each willing the other to make a move. Time stood still for a moment. Robert very deliberately glanced over Greg’s shoulder, and as Greg cocked his head a bit to see what he was looking at, Robert swatted at the gun, catching Greg by surprise and sending it clattering to the ground.

  In shock, Greg dove for the gun as Robert dove on top of him. Greg grabbed the pistol, but Robert got a hand on it, too, before he could do anything with it. They grappled with it, rolling around on the ground. Greg rolled over so he was facing up, and caught Robert in the crotch with a swift knee.

  As Robert dropped, Greg jumped up and clubbed him in the back of the head with the butt of the gun, sending him crumpling to the ground. He ran to the desk and shuffled the papers around until he found the small yellow note with the words, “Saint-Colbert” at the bottom. It took him a second, as it looked slightly different from the American version, but Greg realized he was looking at an address. Saint-Colbert was the city. “Bingo.” He whispered.

  He heard Robert groan and try to roll over. He briefly considered putting a bullet in him, but decided not to. He was on a tiny island that this man owned. He planned to be on a boat and motoring away in the next few minutes, but still, if he g
ot caught, he didn’t need a body count in his wake.

  He gave Robert a swift kick to the ribs for good measure. Once he was satisfied that Robert wasn’t getting up, he quietly let himself out the door that led to the gardens and set off toward the boatyard at a sprint, dialing as he ran.

  * * *

  Bryce had just climbed into in his large, black, rented Mercedes as his phone rang. He grabbed it immediately. “Tell me you’ve got something, Greg.”

  “I do, sir. An address.”

  “Good work, Greg. Give it to me.” Bryce rummaged through the glove box and, finding a pen, quickly scrawled the address on the back of the rental agreement. “This is outstanding, Greg. Sit tight. I’ll be in touch if there’s anything else.”

  “About that, sir,” Greg said, slightly out of breath. “I had to take drastic action. I can’t stay here. I’m on the run.”

  “Good enough. Do what you have to. Get in touch when you’re in a safe place, and we’ll figure out a way to get you back here.”

  “Thank you, sir.” As the call was disconnecting, Bryce heard shouting on the other end of the line, but couldn’t make out what he was saying

  He tapped the screen on his dashboard and pulled up the navigation menu. His hands were shaking with anger, but he sung and giggled as he punched in the address. “You’re dead. Every one of you. You’re all FUCKING dead!”

  * * *

  In his haste to leave the scene and sprint toward the boatyard, Greg neglected to close the door behind him. He had also not seen Captain Frank having lunch on the patio twenty feet to his right.

  Frank watched for a moment as Greg, the odd security guard who had asked him so many questions about Abby, sprinted across the lawn. An odd flash of light caught his eye. It took him a second to realize it was the sun glinting off of the handgun in Greg’s fist.

  “Shit! Robert!”

  Frank jumped up and ran into Robert’s office to find him sprawled out on the floor.

  “Robert!” He called, but got no answer. He leaned over him to look at him, and saw his chest rise and fall. He was unconscious, but breathing. He moaned a bit as Frank lightly tapped his face, but he was completely out of it. Frank looked out the door and across the lawn to see Greg hopping into a boat, talking on the phone. Frank muttered under his breath, “You son of a bitch.”