by Mike Ryan
“Yeah?”
“You the guy that was showing the pictures to everyone?”
Not sure what was about to come next, Bridge hesitantly answered. “Yeah. That was me.”
“I thought so. One of my buddies in there said you were talking to people, showing pictures to everyone.”
“And?”
“He said there were three guys and you were asking about people acting strange.”
“That’s right.”
“Maybe I know something, I don’t know. You got those pictures?”
Bridge removed the pictures from his pocket and handed them to the man, who eagerly looked them over. The first one was a picture of Berkampf. He didn’t seem to look familiar. The next one was of Andujar. The man nodded.
“Yeah, I know this one. I’ve seen him.”
“What about the last one?” Bridge asked.
The man put Andujar’s picture underneath to look at the last one of Dermott. He recognized him right away. “Yeah, I know this one too.”
“You’re sure?”
“Oh yeah, most definitely.” He pointed to Dermott’s picture. “This one here, I offered to help him with his bags.”
“How many did he have?”
“Uh, two, I think. One he was like, clutching over his shoulder.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Few hours now, I think. Maybe, eight or nine, somewhere like that.”
“And you said you recognized this other guy too?”
“Yeah, this guy,” the man said, pointing at Andujar’s picture. “He was with this other guy. I’ve seen him here before, too. I think he flies out of here from time to time. Not sure of dates or anything.”
“What about tonight? What were they doing?”
“They were getting into some car. This other guy, this third guy, I’m not sure about him. He might have been there too, but I can’t say for sure. There was another guy with these two, but I didn’t get a good look at his face. I only saw the back of his head. Could’ve been this third guy, but like I said, I can’t say for sure.”
“Where did they go? You see them get into a car?”
The man nodded. “Oh yeah. It was a red one.”
“Get a license plate or anything?”
“No. But I know it was red. Not a bright red or anything, it was kind of darker. What’s the color they say? Uh, Uh… maroon? I think that’s it.”
“Which one of them was driving?”
“None of them.”
“There was a fourth guy?”
The man shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know if it was a guy or not, but the car pulled up, then the other three got in. The guy with the bags got in the back seat along with the guy I couldn’t see. Then this other guy got in the front passenger seat.”
“Car or truck?”
“Car. One of those four-door sedans.”
“You didn’t happen to catch the license plate, did you?” Bridge asked, hoping to land a miracle, though he definitely wasn’t holding his breath.
“No, I mean, I thought it was a little strange, but I work here. You see strange stuff at the airport all the time.”
Bridge laughed. “I guess you do.”
“I mean, I looked at them for a few seconds, but after they got in the car, I just went on with my day, you know?”
“Now that you’re looking back on it, anything else you can tell me that maybe you didn’t think much of at the time? Something they said, did, the way they moved, anything?”
The worker thought for a few seconds. He couldn’t come up with anything else, though. “No, not really. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“The one guy, the man with the bags.”
“Yeah?”
“He looked kind of nervous. Anxious. Looked like he was sweating a little bit.”
“See anyone pushing him, jamming a gun into his ribs, anything like that?”
“Nah, not that I could tell. This other dude, the one that I recognized, he was standing behind him, though. Real close like.”
Bridge reached into his pocket and removed his wallet. He gave the man a little less than a thousand pesos, or the equivalent of about fifty American dollars. “Appreciate the info.”
“Hey, thanks,” the man said with a huge smile.
Bridge removed one of his business cards and handed that over, too. “If there’s anything else you remember, or anyone else who works here, who suddenly remembers something, let them know there might be more of that for good information.”
The man kept smiling. “Right on. You American police? You’re not Mexican.”
“Something like that. I’m looking for this guy with the bag. Remember to tell your friends. If anyone knows something, hit me up. Anytime, I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night or anything, OK?”
The man touched his forehead and gave a half-hearted salute. “Many thanks, senor.”
As Bridge walked back to his car, he pulled out his phone and dialed Nicole’s number.
“Hey, got anything?” Nicole asked.
“Maybe. I’ve got a positive ID on Andujar and Dermott getting into the same vehicle as they left the airport. Now there was also another man getting in, could be Berkampf, but can’t say for certain. There was also a fourth guy, the driver, no ID on him.”
“I haven’t gotten anything here yet.”
“They got into a maroon four-door sedan. We’ll have to put our efforts into finding that car.”
“I’ll start looking into it.”
“We’re gonna need to try to pull as much footage as we can. Satellite footage, if you can get it, footage from the airport, local roads, whatever we can get our hands on. We need to find that car.”
“I’ve put alerts out on credit cards and phone records for Andujar, Berkampf, and Dermott just in case they use one of them. If something pops up, we should get notified.”
“Good. Let’s hope something breaks soon,” Bridge said. “If not, I don’t have a good feeling about what we’ll eventually find.”
10
By the time Bridge woke up, Nicole was already banging at her keyboard. He came over to her and kissed her. She smiled and pushed a cup of coffee toward him.
“Here. Just made it.”
Bridge took a sip, then groggily looked at the time. “How long have you been up?”
“Hour or so.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Figured one of us should get some sleep.”
“You didn’t sleep?”
“Couple hours, I guess. I wanted to keep working on this.”
“Find anything?”
“If I did, I would have woken you up.”
Bridge looked at his phone to see if there were any texts or voicemails. Nothing was there. He sighed. “Dermott still hasn’t checked in.”
“Doesn’t necessarily mean anything’s wrong.”
“I know you’re just trying to keep me positive and don’t really mean that ‘cause we both know what that means.”
Nicole closed her eyes for a second, trying not to let any negative thoughts creep into her mind. “You never know.”
“He’s either dead or taken hostage himself. We both know that. There’s no other reason for not checking in this long. We’re coming up on what, ten, twelve hours now?”
“About that.” Nicole suddenly sat up straight to pay more attention to whatever was on her screen. Bridge noticed. Nicole started typing away again.
“What is it?”
“We just got a hit on a credit card.”
“Whose?”
Nicole turned her head to look at him. “Bodie Dermott’s.”
“Where?”
“Looks like a hotel about twenty-five minutes from here.”
“When was the hit on it?”
“This morning. Room service.”
Bridge quickly ran into the bedroom to get changed. Nicole was already dressed and ready. Bridge was completely dressed and ready
to go in less than two minutes. After coming out of the bedroom, he headed straight for the door.
“Let’s go. This might be the break we need.”
On the way to the hotel, they stopped at a local florist and picked up some flowers.
“I really don’t think this is necessary,” Nicole said.
“Hey, gotta play the role.”
“How ‘bout we just knock on the guy’s door, then when it opens, we punch his lights out?”
“While a good plan in its own right, what if he looks out and sees two people standing there with nothing in their hands? What compels him to open the door?”
“Me telling him I’ll put some bullets through it?”
Bridge just looked at her and shook his head. “While also having its merits, I suppose, let’s just try it this way instead, huh?”
“Fine. If you wanna do the whole song and dance routine first, go ahead.”
“Well, I do have my dancing shoes on, so…”
“And I have my shooting shoes on.”
“Why do you always do things the violent way first?”
Nicole smiled. “It’s quicker.”
“And messier.”
She gave him a glance. “Not always.”
Bridge rolled his eyes. “You’re hopeless.”
Once they got to the hotel, they went inside and walked up to the desk, where a man was standing there by a computer. Bridge had the yellow flowers in front of him.
“Excuse me, could you tell us what room Bodie Dermott is in? We’ve got a delivery here for him.”
The man checked his computer. “Let’s see, Mr. Dermott… Ah yes, here he is. He is in room 514.”
“Great, 514. Thank you.”
They went over to the elevator. They were the only ones who got on.
“You couldn’t have gotten roses?” Nicole asked.
Bridge slowly turned his head and glared at her. “Seriously?”
“I’m just saying. I mean, if you’re gonna give the guy flowers, why don’t you give him the good ones? I mean, what even are those things, anyway?”
Bridge looked at the flowers. “I dunno. Flowers?”
“But what are they called?”
“The yellow ones?”
“Romantic guy, you are.”
“Hey, I walked in there, saw these ones sitting there and said I’ll take it. Who needs to know the names?”
Once they got to the fifth floor, they immediately walked to room 514. Before knocking, Bridge handed the flowers to Nicole.
“What do you want me to do with them?”
Bridge shrugged. “Knock?”
“Why can’t you do it?”
“It’ll sound less threatening if he hears a woman’s voice instead of mine.”
“Who said you didn’t have a woman’s voice?”
“Oh, ha ha, very funny.”
Nicole smiled. She then looked at the flowers as if she were holding a bomb. When he thought of flowers, Nicole didn’t come to mind. “I’m not really used to these.”
“They won’t bite.”
“How do you know?”
Bridge then looked at the door. “You ready?” He didn’t get an answer right away. Nicole looked like she was deep in thought. “You ready?”
“Huh?”
“Something on your mind?”
“Oh. Yeah. Kind of.”
“Is it pertinent to our business here?”
“I was just thinking I could add this to my arsenal.”
“What?”
“The flowers,” Nicole answered. “We could use this sometime.”
“We’re using it now.”
“No, I mean as a weapon.”
“Why does everything resort to you using it as a weapon?”
Nicole smiled and shrugged. “I’m just that kind of girl, I guess. I like my toys.”
Bridge coughed. “Uh, yeah. All kinds.”
“Anyway, I was thinking, if we put a bomb, or some type of explosive device in the center of these, it could make a really big impact.”
“Yeah, along with your hand.”
“Well, obviously, it would be on some type of timer.”
“Your mind works in weird ways.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Or maybe you could put something in the middle that, after a certain amount of time, releases some type of spray or gas or something to knock out everyone in the room. That would be cool.”
“Are we done thinking up different ways to destroy things yet? I mean, we do have a mission here. Of course, I don’t want to let that get in the way of your happy thoughts.”
“Always bringing the party down,” Nicole said. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
Bridge stepped to the side of the door against the wall, out of sight if someone looked out the peephole. Nicole then knocked on the door. She heard someone coming to the door.
“Yes?”
“Flower delivery,” Nicole answered in her most pleasant, upbeat, peppy kind of voice.
“I didn’t ask for any.”
“It’s for Bodie Dermott, room 514.”
“It’s OK. I’m good.”
“Sir, please, can I just deliver the flowers and get on my way? If I go back with them, I get in trouble. I mean, can I just give you the flowers? If you don’t want them, then throw them out. I don’t care. I’m just obligated to deliver them. What you do with them is your business.”
“Fine, hold on.”
Nicole looked at her boyfriend and smiled. The door then opened slightly. The man inside was still playing it cautiously. Seeing Nicole standing there with flowers in front of her, he slowly started to drop his guard.
“Here you go,” Charlotte said, handing them over.
“I don’t owe anything for these, do I?”
“Nope. All paid for already. Hope you enjoy them.”
“Who are they from?”
“Someone named Luke.”
“Who?”
“Me.” Bridge jumped in front of the door and landed a punch to the man’s nose, sending him flying backwards.
Bridge and Nicole rushed into the room and closed the door, with Bridge lunging on top of the man to deliver another couple of shots to the man’s face. Once he seemed like he was effectively neutralized, Bridge got up and stood over him.
“Done playing around?” Nicole asked.
“Really?”
“Are we gonna ask him questions or slap him around?”
“I was making sure he was not a threat.”
“I think he’s got it.”
Bridge grabbed Berkampf by the collar and dragged him along the floor until they got to the couch. He thought about lifting him onto it, but then decided against it. He just didn’t care enough to make him more comfortable. Berkampf could do that himself.
Berkampf shook his head and felt his face to see if he was bleeding. He wasn’t. But his head sure felt like it had been hit with a hammer.
“What’s the big idea, man?”
“The idea, man, is we want some answers,” Bridge replied.
“Who are you?”
“We’re your worst nightmare if you don’t come clean with what we wanna know.”
“Dude, this ain’t right.”
Berkampf squinted and contorted his face as he got his wits together again. “Can I sit on the couch or something?”
“Go ahead.”
Berkampf pulled himself onto the couch and leaned back. “So what do you guys want?”
“Well, considering this room is registered to Bodie Dermott, and you’re certainly not him, how ‘bout telling us who you are?”
“I’m his son, Derek.”
Nicole walked around the back of the couch and then popped Berkampf in the side of the head.
“Ouch!” He held his right ear, which took most of the blow. “What was that for?”
“That was for lying to us,” Nicole said. “We already know your name.”
“Well, if you know, then what are you asking
for?”
“To see if you’re capable of being honest. Obviously you aren’t.”
“Dude, man, what do you want from me? I’m not bothering nobody.”
Bridge looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “It’s gonna be one of those.”
“What’s your name, Anson?” Nicole asked.
Berkampf sighed. “Anson Berkampf. You happy?”
“Not really. What are you doing here?”
“I dunno, just hanging out in this room.”
Nicole walked around the couch again. Berkampf kept his eyes on her as she did. Just as she stood behind him, he turned his body around to move away from her, fearful about her doing something similar to the last time.
“Listen, dude,” Bridge said. “We’re both ex-CIA agents that are trained in over a hundred different forms of torture and interrogation techniques that can cause extreme pain and even death in some cases.”
Berkampf’s eyes flipped wide open. “You are?”
“Yes. And unless you want us to practice a few of those techniques, if I were you, I’d answer every single question we ask as openly and honestly as possible.”
“Oh, forget it,” Nicole said. “Let me just get the bag. Once we put the vise on, he’ll crack in ten seconds.”
“Vise?” Berkampf asked worriedly. “What vise?”
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Bridge said. “Surgery puts your shoulder back into place after a few months.”
“What?”
“Or we could just get the pliers,” Nicole said.
“What pliers?”
“For his teeth or fingers?” Bridge asked.
Nicole shrugged. “Both?”
“Wait, teeth or fingers?” Berkampf asked.
Bridge looked at their prisoner, seeing that he was close to cracking. “You see, we have two different sets of pliers. One is to pull every tooth out of your mouth as painfully as possible and the other one is to rip off the tips of your fingers.”
“What?! The tips of my fingers?!”
“Sorry, they don’t grow back. I mean, maybe with plastic surgery, they can do extraordinary things these days, but how many you lose will be up to you.”
“My fingers?”
“Oh, don’t be a wuss,” Nicole said. “It’s not like you’re losing a hand. Well, not yet.”
“Yet?!”
“Well, we start with the tips of the fingers,” Bridge said. “If you don’t tell us anything after losing all five of them, and you haven’t passed out from the pain, then we start moving on to other parts of the body. Usually the hand.”