by David Clark
Sometimes facts hit Jordan like the lightning bolt of knowledge. Other times the Captain Obvious’ sledgehammer. This time there was both a flash and a slam. Orville was right. He hadn’t considered that.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Orville asked.
Jordan was. He really was. Robert didn’t kill the officers. He saved Jordan, but why? What little rational thought had squeezed into Jordan’s emotionally overloaded consciousness was consumed by that. It wasn’t much, but it filled the gaps between the flashes of the images of the impact of the bus.
“Yes. You’re right,” Jordan finally confirmed.
“See. Jordan, what you witnessed tonight was horrible. It’s something that would have shaken anyone. It would have shaken me up really good too. I am not going to act like some tough agent and tell you otherwise, and you shouldn’t try to act that way or ever expect to be like that either. It’s the worst part of the job, and you have to learn to manage your emotions. This job is the type that will tear you down faster than any other profession I can think of. You are dealing with the worst of the worst. Victims, violence, and people so evil it makes you question the fate of humanity. And that is without the factors that make your role so different. You can’t let the concern about Walter, Robert, or whatever name he is going by at the moment, consume you. If you do, you will live a life of fear and second guesses, and that is not what the Bureau needs. They need agents that are confident, make decisions, and act. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” was the simple answer Jordan could muster. Inside, the emotions stirred a tempest of self-doubt.
“Good,” Orville started to say, but he was cut off as the phone rang with another call. Jordan looked down and felt a cold sweat develop across his brow when he saw the name.
“Orville, let me call you back later. Todd is calling.” Jordan ended the call and accepted the second. “Yes sir?”
“Jordan, sorry to bother you on your... day off.” Jordan almost heard Todd choking on the words. “I need you to join a team in Richmond, Virginia. We have been called to help out with new developments in that case you consulted on a few days ago.”
“Not a problem, sir. When is the team arriving?”, Jordan asked, full of hope there would be a quick answer to that question and it would be dropped there, but he felt the world closing in on him. The air in the car had become hot and humid. Every piece of glass had fogged up during the conversation with Orville. There was a sense he had used up most of the oxygen trapped inside. His nerves had sped up his heart rate. His heart rate quickened his breathing. Each breath an attempt to supply what he needed, but it only took in a gulp of stale and moist air. The corresponding exhale added to the layer on the glass.
“The team boarded the agency plane an hour ago, and will arrive within the hour. Don’t worry about picking us up at the airport. We will rent cars and will meet you at the department.”
“We, sir?”, Jordan asked, trying to sound confident, but came off as anything but. Shit.
“Yes, we. I am on the jet now. This just became the most high profile case the agency is working on today, and I know...”
Todd’s voice trailed off, making Jordan wonder if the call dropped from being on a moving plane. He waited several moments, waiting for his phone to show the call had disconnected and had even placed his other hand on the door handle to get out. To his dismay, the call hadn’t disconnected, and his heart rate hadn’t slowed. “You know what? Sir?”
“You are already there. It’s fine. After the last time we talked, I knew you weren’t going to let it drop. So, I suggested a few days off so you could get it out of your system. Either you would find what you were looking for, or realize you misread something. So, Agent Blake, tell me what you know.”
Before Jordan started, he got out of the car. The feeling of the cool fresh air rushing through the open door and splashing into his face restored the life inside. He stood by the car and filled his boss in on the details. This simple act went further to help him recover who he was from the pit of woe he had been in for the last several hours. It made him feel like an agent again.
Jordan filled Todd in on all the details on the case, including what happened to Detective Kendal and his two partners, but left out the paranormal bits. There was no mention of receiving information and help from the victims, Sharon, Beth, and Maria, and absolutely no mention of Robert. This was how most of Jordan’s debriefs went. It made it easier, and was the agreement he and Todd had, which was the same agreement Orville had with him before. Todd would accept what they could do, as long as no one tried to explain any of the what he called, “the ghostly things.”
“Jordan, I am so sorry about what happened this morning. We hadn’t heard about that yet. If you don’t feel you can continue on the case, I would understand,” Todd said.
What Orville said to him just minutes earlier echoed in his ears. Jordan straightened his shoulders and held his head up high. “No sir. I am fine, and ready to go.”
“Good, one last question. Is there anything... you know... involved here?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
29
The recharge Jordan’s spirit felt after talking Todd through the details had all but dissipated by the time he reached the door of their hotel room. He had the key card in his pocket, but lacked the energy and motivation to reach for it. His hand made a few halfhearted attempts at the handle to open the door without it. When it didn’t give, the knuckle of one finger on that hand rapped ever so slightly on the door. He stood there desperate hoping someone, anyone heard it, and he leaned against the wall waiting.
When the door cracked open, Megan shrieked at the sight of him. Her hands reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him inside. She was hysterical, pulling the jacket off of him and letting it fall to the floor. Dozens of questions flew at Jordan. Words like hurt, would, and blood were in each, but Jordan couldn’t put them together in his mind to understand. Her hands yanked and pulled at him from every angle. Pulling his shirt up to look him over. Then she reached up and her hand touched the back of his neck and pulled him close to her. The warmth of her touch broke him, and he let go.
Tears flowed as he collapsed into her. He could smell the salt of his own tears mixed with Megan’s jasmine body spray. Each light stroke of her against the back of his hand pulled more tears out. It was as if her sheer touch helped squeeze all the pain from his existence. Only when she was done, would he feel renewed. For minutes, she just stood there holding him, and never asking him why or what. The flood of questions had stopped. Now it was just a silence with a muffled sobbing.
When Megan had squeezed enough sorrow from Jordan, he felt strong enough to stand on his own. He looked into her eyes, still holding on tightly, and kissed her. She kissed him back, and then pulled him in tighter still. “What happened? Where did all that blood come from?”, she whispered in his ear.
He pushed back and looked in the full length mirror that was on the wall. There were blood spots all over his white shirt. A quick check of the jacket that was now a pile on the floor found another large stain on it. Jordan felt queasy and stumbled over to the bed. He sat on the end and held his head in his hands. Megan sat beside him, and ever so lightly massaged the base of his neck while Jordan told her what happened. Her caress stopped a few times. A gasp or moan accompanied each stop. He didn’t have to look at her to know how what he told her affected her. He felt it. Her touch was distracted, and the normally talkative woman was distant and withdrawn. A feeling he knew well. He continued to tell her about his conversation with Orville with the slight hope of making her feel better. Whether it did on the emotional level or not, he wasn’t sure, her only reaction was agreement. “He’s right. Has to be,” she said as she appeared to think out loud. “If he wanted you dead, he wouldn’t have shown himself to distract you.”
Hearing her say it that way drove more credence in the possibility. It didn’t answer the remaining question of why
.
“Now what?”, Megan asked after a long pause of silence. “With the case I mean.”
“There are people to question. Twenty three of them,” Jordan said. He stood up, letting Megan’s hand fall down his back to the bed. “I need to get cleaned up and get back there to help. Todd and a few other agents from the bureau will be in soon.”
“What?”, Megan screamed as she sprung up.
“Oh, I forgot that part,” Jordan said as he pulled off his blood stained shirt. “Because of who these suspects are, and the sheer number of them, they called the FBI in to assist in the investigation. We will probably take lead now. Detective Kendal,” Jordan started, but had to stop. Saying his name, and the memory of sitting there at his desk on the phone call choked him up. “Andrew... made the request and asked to have me brought in.”
Jordan walked right into the bathroom, “I need a shower.” He closed the door behind him and turned on the water. He stood waiting for the steam to fill the room before he stepped under. Hotel showers were never anything more than a sprinkle of water compared to the shower in Jordan’s apartment, so he always opted for hotter than normal to help scour whatever he needed to get off of him. Whether it was the ilk of walking around in some overgrown weed and mosquito infested woods, or splatters of blood and bad memories like now, the heat helped. It took a few minutes of letting the water run over his head and down the rest of him before the temperature was no longer uncomfortable. Usually by then he had begun to feel normal. This time he still didn’t. Images of their last moments still flashed in his mind, along with that stupid ass grin on Robert’s face. He wanted to put a bullet right through his teeth, creating the perfect hole for his cigarette to fit, but he knew that was not a possibility. Robert had the upper hand, and always would. Jordan couldn’t do anything to him.
He was lost in thought when he felt something reach around him. He jumped, knocking the small bottle of shampoo into the tub with a bang. “Relax, it’s just me,” said Megan’s soothing voice. Her touch did the rest of the soothing. Her body pressed against his back as water ran down both of them. “I am going with you.”
Jordan tried to turn, but she wouldn’t loosen her hold on him. “No way,” he protested.
“You can’t stop me and I think I can help, plus I promise to stay out of the way. I will just sit someplace in case you do,” she kissed the back of his neck.
Jordan didn’t fight it, but he didn’t agree either. An answer wasn’t needed. He knew darn well if she set her mind on going, she would. Even if he left her behind, she would call a cab and be there just minutes after he arrived.
30
“Morning Agent Blake,” greeted Ron Marks, a detective he met for just a few moments before everyone headed out on the great round up. The man looked tired, and worse for wear, as was everyone within Jordan’s eye shot. A somber silence hung in the building.
“Morning Ron,” Jordan said.
“Your unit is down the hall in conference room 1-D.”
“Thanks,” Jordan said. He stepped by, leading Megan by the hand, then stopped. He turned and looked at Ron face to face, and somberly said, “Ron. I am so sorry.”
“Thanks. We all are. They were good men,” he said with the appearance of a man struggling to get the words out. Ron took a deep breath and then said with a stiff jaw, “Just makes us more determined to get the bastard now.”
Jordan shook his hand and headed back down the hall and around to the bank of conference rooms that were situated in the center of the building. D, the fourth in that section, was at the end of the center core of the building. He could tell the others were occupied as he walked by. Each had a single occupant inside. All dressed in t-shirts or pajamas. Their hands on the table with nice silver cuffs around the wrists. Temporary holding cells until they were interviewed.
“Well, if it isn’t America’s Medium.”
Megan yanked her hand out of Jordan’s and spun around, “Senior agent, Todd Classen. Don’t you need a donut to go with that coffee.”
To say, Megan and the tall skinny bald senior agent, who was also Jordan’s boss, had issues in the past, would be akin to saying the world wars were just arguments. Todd saw Megan as a phony fraud who capitalized off of sensationalism and salacious journalism. Not that he would ever use the word journalism. She saw him as a walking law enforcement cliché, in his agency trademark black suit, white shirt, and black pencil thin tie. Even now, he stood there dressed like that, stirring his coffee with a real spoon that clinked against the side. The sound drew several annoyed looks from those that needed the somber silence of the floor to deal with their own emotional state.
“All right you two,” intervened Jordan. He was not in the mood for these two to act like children in front of those who had lost so much today. They needed to be professional and respectful. He looked at Todd. “Look, she has been a lot of help so far, she may still be able to help us. And, you,” he said, turning to Megan. “You promised to stay out of the way.” Megan looked like she was about to say something, but Jordan made a move to head off any more shots fired by either of them. “Let’s go into the conference room, you have a seat and let us get to work.”
She started again, holding a finger up to accentuate whatever point she planned to make, but Jordan stopped her, “Nope.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the conference room. Todd followed them and closed the door.
“Neal,” squealed Megan, and she ran across the room to give Neal Lawson a big hug around his neck. The career agent with salt and pepper hair returned the hug, “Meg, it’s great to see you.” He always had a soft spot for Megan.
“Get over here,” cried Rachel Adams. The only woman on the team and someone Jordan worked with often. Megan and Rachel shared a big hug. Rachel held her back away from her and looked her up and down. “Woman, if the agency ever loosens the dress code, you are helping me with my wardrobe. I love the look.” Megan had dressed in her traditional long black skirt. Her top was mostly black with accents of purple and green, with makeup that accentuated the look. It was her normal on-screen appearance, though there was no camera to be seen.
“Do you guys mind? We have work to do,” barked Todd.
Jordan watched Megan shrink at the sound of his voice, and he pointed her to a chair against the wall, which she tip toed over to while everyone else settled at the table.
“You have all been briefed on the case and what happened in the last several hours. A team from the D.C. field office is already handling the interviews of those suspects that were rounded up. Not surprising, most lawyered up as soon as the cuffs went on, but we do have a few talkers. The smaller characters in our play. They will be starting the questioning of them,” Todd looked up at the digital clock with red numbers on the wall, “in another twenty minutes or so. Jordan. Neal. You will join Tony in watching those interviews. Watching only. The agents doing the questioning will be teamed with one of the locals that have background on the case. If, there is anything you need them to ask that they haven’t, save it and talk to them when they come out. Have I made myself clear to you two? We are taking a backseat with some of these as they are high ranking political figures, they know how to handle those types. Lots of experience over the recent years.”
Todd stared at Neal first, and only after Neal nodded agreement did he shift his focus to Jordan. Jordan nodded as well.
“Rachel, you have free run of the cell phones. I need everything. Every number who called them. Who they called. And then, take it to the next level looking at those numbers.”
“So, the usual?”, she asked.
“Yep,” answered Todd.
“I already have them all downloading now. Once those are completed, it won’t take long to run the usual cross checks. Gotta say, I have never seen twenty seven burner phones on one case before. Good thing they had extra laptops around here for me to use. Should have some preliminary reports this afternoon.”
“Good.” Todd stood up from his seat and laid bot
h hands flat on the table. He leaned into them, causing the knuckles of each finger to turn white. “Since Agent Blake has already been involved in things up here, we will take point on any further actions to apprehend anyone else. This is ours, folks. The law enforcement community has already lost three officers in this case. Let’s be careful, but thorough, and bring them in. Do what you are best at.”
There was no formal dismissal, just Todd walking from the table. Jordan looked around the room, thinking he had missed someone when he came in. Todd said he and Neal would work with Tony, but Antonio Jackson was nowhere to be found. He was the most studious and imposing member of their team. Not to say he was physically intimidating. Antonio wasn’t in the least. He was maybe five foot ten if he wore his dress shoes with a bit of a heel in them, and any suit he tried to wear always hung off of his slight frame like he was a kid wearing his father’s clothes. It was the gaze that came at you through his wire-framed glasses. Antonio’s specialty was people. Behavior psychology, to be exact. He once told Jordan he could learn more in watching someone for thirty seconds than he could by talking to them for a day, and he never turned it off. Agent, suspect, or just a person on the street. He studied and made a mental profile of them. Something that made everyone uncomfortable around him, at least until you got to truly know him. Then you saw his sense of humor. That was why Jordan still suspected he was behind the badge tampering earlier in the week. While Jordan took a good deal of questionable looks from other agents, Antonio never took part. He once told Jordan he had finished his profile of him, and while he didn’t understand what Jordan did, he believed Jordan was sincere about all of it. “Where’s Tony?”