by Alex Howell
He had missed the cops by mere minutes, and since they had no idea what vehicle he was driving, they passed him right by. Mason mentally thanked Bree for the cover that her former vehicle had provided him and quickly got back on the road, leaving the scene as fast as he could.
12
Fleeing from The Fickle Masses
Mason was on the highway driving Bree’s old car as fast as he could do so, without alerting suspicion. He had no idea where he was headed, he just knew that he had to put as much distance between him and the crime scene his house had become, as he possibly could.
Things were seeming pretty hopeless. With his life as he knew it, potentially irreconcilably ruined, Mason only had one driving purpose left—to find Raina. But with no leads, he didn’t even know where to look. That is until his phone began to buzz in his hand with the name “Hawkeye” flashing across the screen.
It was Tessa Rogers. In light of everything that had occurred, just seeing her name flit across his phone’s screen filled him with revulsion. Mason suddenly felt the urge to go into the contacts and change her name from Hawkeye to Traitor—of even better yet, to delete it altogether. But as much as he hated to admit it, at the moment she was his only lifeline to Raina.
Not messing around, Mason answered the phone, “Alright Tessa! What the hell do you want?!”
After a slight pause, Tessa greeted him with an evil laugh, before delivering the taunt, “My—well, you’re pretty demanding for a known fugitive, aren’t you?”
Tessa already knew what had happened. Somehow, she had eyes and ears on the scene to know that he had just gunned down a man outside his home and fled the scene. Mason now had to realize the full irony of the situation—all of this time that he thought he was tracking and monitoring Tessa she was most likely tracking and monitoring him.
He answered with a curse, “What the hell do you want from me?”
Tessa again laughed as she reminded him, “It’s not so much what I want Mason, but it’s what your superiors will want to do with you when the whole world sees that you are nothing more than a cold-blooded killer.”
Tired of the games, Mason grunted, “What are you talking about?”
Tessa’s response was simple, “Just turn on the news.”
Mason didn’t really want to, but he couldn’t just let the matter rest either. He had to see just what kind of trouble Tessa had stirred up. Switching on a tablet he had rigged up to the car’s center console, and slightly swerving in his lane as he did so, he pulled up a news feed app. To his amazement as soon as the news feed blared to life it was showing footage of the outside of his own house.
Mason muttered in astonishment, “What the hell? Oh shit….”
The camera then panned to a reporter on the scene who remarked, “We’re not sure exactly where this shooting took place, and as you can see the body is mysteriously absent from the scene altogether.”
The camera then panned to Mason’s front yard as the reporter narrated, “But whoever did this isn’t fooling anyone. And as you very well can see here, there is a trail of blood on this otherwise normal, suburban lawn.”
Panning to the front door of Mason’s home which was surrounded by uniformed officers, the journalist continued, “Police are on the scene right now. And while we are not at this moment allowed access inside the home—”
The narrator paused for effect, before adding, “One can only imagine the horrors that might await one on the inside.”
The reporter then offered, “And if that’s not chilling enough, we just received some video purportedly showing the killing that occurred here just moments ago.”
After making this revelation, the reporter once again paused for effect before warning, “The video is graphic however, so I must warn you… If you have children in the room, I would suggest you take them elsewhere.”
The reporter then directed, “Roll the footage.”
The news feed then switched to grainy footage showing Mason running out into the street chasing the man that had broken into his house. The man is then seen stopping and turning to face Mason with his back turned to the camera. From this vantage point, when the guy raises his arms to feign detonation of a device, all anyone can make out is what appears to be hands raised in surrender.
As a result, when Mason opens fire a few moments later, it appears that he is gunning down an unarmed man, who is attempting to surrender. Even more disturbing is the fact that after the man falls lifeless to the street, the video then cuts to Mason dragging the dead man back into his house.
After airing this shocking clip, the reporter standing in front of Mason’s house came back on the screen and remarked, “We have just received word that the guy seen shooting and dragging an unarmed man into this home, is indeed the homeowner; Mason William Walker.”
Prompting Mason to again curse, “Shit.”
This was followed by more laughter from Tessa, along with the taunt, “So how does it feel to be a cold-blooded killer Mason?”
Beyond infuriated, Mason screamed, “This was all a setup!”
Mason didn’t know how such a twisted game had been devised, but a man had apparently, willingly sacrificed his own life in order to frame him for his murder. A fact which Tessa gleefully acknowledged, “Your damn right it’s a setup Mason—and a damn good one at that!”
Mason then turned his attention back to the newscast as he heard a familiar voice remark, “Yeah—I’m his next-door neighbor, I never imagined he was capable of something like this.”
To his shock, a reporter camped out in front of his house was interviewing one of his neighbors. He barely knew the guy, but he was amazed to hear him speak of him as if he knew his whole life story.
The guy told the reporter, “Yeah… we tried to be friendly to him… We would wave you know… do the neighborly thing. But he just always seemed like he had some kind of chip on his shoulder…sometimes we felt it was just a matter of time before he snapped.”
Mason shocked that a man he had only talked to once or twice in his life would reach such a definitive conclusion about his character, muttered to himself, “You’ve got to be kidding me….”
Tessa taunted him, “How fickle the masses huh Mason? You’re a wanted man. See how many friends you have now.”
Desiring to end the conversation on a low point, Tessa then hung up the phone, leaving Mason in silence as he listlessly drove down the freeway in despair.
13
What Friends are For
LATE AFTERNOON AT CLARA’S HOUSE ON THE CAMPUS OF STANFORD.
As she walked up to the outside porch of the modest home that she shared with three other roommates, Clara was relatively relieved to discover that the other girls had already dispersed. She was determined to live in peace with her housemates, but still seething with resentment at her roommate Karen’s insensitive and openly hostile remarks, she was certainly glad to see that she was no longer sitting on the porch.
Serena had already confided in her that Karen had a drinking problem and would often say things that she regretted when she had alcohol around, so with such a forewarning Clara wasn’t that surprised. But when she stepped past the porch and on into the living room, she was indeed taken aback at what she saw.
Right there by the door was a giant stuffed teddy bear with a bouquet of balloons. Looking closer, she saw that the chest of the bear had a note attached to it. Taking the note in her hands she read, “Hey Clara, I would just like to apologize. I know that I was way out of line earlier today. It’s not an excuse, but sometimes when I drink all of my judgement goes right out the window. Sorry. Karen.”
Clara then heard footsteps coming from upstairs and saw Karen emerge into the living room. Karen saw her with the note and sighed, “Hi Clara.”
Clara greeted her back, “Hey Karen.”
Before stating the obvious, “I got your note.”
Karen stepped over to the couch and took a seat as she admitted, “Yeah—sometimes I can be a little hard to
deal with. Clara turned toward her and shrugged, “Oh well—we all have our problems.”
Clara then sat down next to Karen and remarked, “At least you admit them.” Karen laughed slightly, “What’s that mean?”
Clara remarked, “Most, don’t know half the damage they do on a daily basis—so its good that you can see your flaws as they arise.”
Karen looked at Clara, and laughed, “Wow that’s deep! How old are you again?”
Clara laughed, “Yeah, people do tell me I’m wise before my years.”
Just then Clara’s phone began to vibrate in her pocket. Clara muttered, “Oh crap…” as she started to struggle to pull the phone out of where it had become ensconced between her jeans. Finally pulling it free, she saw—just as she had hoped and expected—that it was Travis Jones calling her.
Clara glanced at Karen and told her, “I have to take this call.” Moments later, Clara hit the accept button and answered, “Hello…” At which Travis greeted her, “Clara! What’s shaking?” Clara laughing at the odd and rarified greeting, immediately felt at ease as she replied, “Hi Travis.”
MEANWHILE ON AN EMPTY STRETCH OF HIGHWAY ON THE EASTCOAST.
Mason not knowing where he was running to, exited off the highway at the first Rest Area he came to. Truly feeling like a fugitive, he parked as far from the other cars as he could, as he tried to catch his breath and get his bearings. He knew he couldn’t keep on like this forever. He needed to be able to reach out to someone.
First and foremost, he had to let Clara know what was happening to him before she got her information from the 24-hour news media gossip. But even though he wanted to let her in on what was happening, he couldn’t bring himself to speak to her direct, she would simply ask him way too many questions. So instead he simply fired off a message to go directly to her voicemail. At the beep Mason laid out his rehearsed message.
He told her, “Hey Clara, this is your father. I don’t know if you have heard anything about me on the news yet...But don’t worry. What they’re saying about me isn’t true. I was involved in a shooting with a man who broke into our house—I was simply trying to defend our property. I never meant to kill anyone. For now, just know that the chatter you might hear about me is false, and it will all be cleared up soon. That’s all I can say at the moment. I’m alright, but I will be out of contact for a little while. Just hang tight for me okay? If you need anything please call Luke Simon okay? He will take care of it. Bye for now.”
Ending his transmission and hanging up the phone, Mason knew exactly what Clara’s reaction would be. She would no doubt be incensed by the fact that she was told to contact him every couple of days without fail while away in college, and here he was completely disappearing on her. Mason knew that she was a good kid though, and would readily adjust without harboring any grudges.
He just desperately hoped that her opinion of her father would not become too poisoned by the jury of public opinion that had seemingly already tried, convicted and assassinated his character. After hanging up his cellphone, he turned it off. He then put his earpiece in and turned on his Onyx comm. The first person he managed to get on the channel was Kyle, as Mason announced, “Hey Kyle buddy it’s me—Mason!”
Kyle responded, “Mason! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you!”
Mason then took a breath before informing him, “Kyle buddy—sorry to trouble you but I’m in a bit of a jam.”
Kyle snorted, “Ha—yeah tell me about it. You’ve been on the news just about all day long!”
Mason muttered, “Shit…”
Kyle then offered, “Hey let me patch you through to the rest of the team members….”
Mason hated to have to say it, but his paranoia was at its height, and he couldn’t help but remark, “Kyle… as you know I’m on the wrong side of the law right now, so I would appreciate you keeping the police out of this.”
Kyle answered with a simple, yet for the most part un-incriminating, “Understood”.
He then informed him, “Hey Mason—Mathew Benton’s here. He wants to talk to you.”
Matt was one of the most dedicated and loyal men he had ever worked with, and one that he considered a very dear friend. He knew that if anyone could come and help him during his time of need, it would be Mathew Benton.
As such, Mason readily granted his assent, “Go ahead Kyle. Put him on.”
The next thing Mason knew, he heard Matt’s booming voice on the line, informing him, “Hey Mason man—how are you holding up?”
If it was anyone else asking him such an asinine question Mason probably would have had a litany of sarcastic remarks, but he respected Benton too much for that, so he simply answered quite honestly, “Bad man—really, really bad.”
Benton sighed, “Look—you need a place to rest and get yourself together. Why don’t you head on over to my condo in DC?”
Mason not sure if being in any permanent location for too long was a good idea, considering the manhunt that was being carried out against him, demurred, “I don’t know Benton…I’ve got too many people after me to stay in the same place….”
Benton insisted, “But my place is your best bet Mason, no one will ever be able to find you there. It’s secure.”
Mason tempted by his confidence, questioned, “Really?”
Benton nodded, “Really. It’s totally set up for undercover work and anonymity. That’s the way I designed the place.”
Benton paused before continuing, “Look—just park your car in the enclosed garage and my neighbors won’t even know that you are there. You can then get your groceries on my delivery service. The delivery dude brings the food to the foyer so you can grab it after he’s gone. No human contact whatsoever man. Seriously, it’s the perfect place for you to hide out for a while. It has everything you need.”
Mason thought about it for a moment. He absolutely hated being a mooch, and depending others, but what choice did he have? He accepted the offer, “Alright.”
Mason then started his car, put it in gear and began to head back out onto the highway as he expressed his gratitude, “Thanks Matt—you’ve done so much for me, I really appreciate it. I owe you one for this.”
Benton thinking of all the times Mason had saved him in the past, was quick to deflect any indebtedness, telling him, “Nah man, don’t even mention it. You’ve done more than enough for me in the past.”
Benton then added thoughtfully, and with a hint of emotion that was usually rare for this hardened soldier, as he remarked, “Besides—that’s what friends are for.”
14
It All Comes Crashing Down
BACK AT CLARA’S HOUSE ON THE STANFORD CAMPUS.
Clara Walker had just gotten off the phone with Travis Jones when she noticed a voicemail pop up on her phone. She didn’t notice the phone beep while she was on the phone, yet strangely there was the voicemail right there popping up on her screen. Karen looking over her shoulder remarked, “Another message? My you are getting popular Clara.”
Clara stared at the screen, and remarked, “Huh… well that couldn’t be Travis, I just got off the phone with him… Who is this?”
Not thinking too much of it, she put the phone to her hear and began listening to the message. To her surprise it was her father’s voice she heard on the voicemail, and his tone from the very beginning let her know that the message was a serious one. Not wanting her inquisitive roommate Karen to overhear what her father might be telling her.
Clara automatically got up and started walking out to the porch. Karen a bit annoyed by her sudden departure, exclaimed sarcastically, “Hmmm—must be an urgent message.”
Moments later after she heard what her father had to say, Clara came back into the living room and sat on the couch. Her father had just informed her that he was a fugitive wanted for murder. Furthermore, while he was on the lamb running from the law, this would be the last communication that he would be able to deliver until things were cleared up.
Clara had been throu
gh quite a bit with her father due to his chosen profession, and she had learned long ago to compartmentalize the events of her father’s professional life and their own personal relationship. But now that one was impinging on the other, and she wouldn’t even be able to reach out and contact her father when she needed to, she felt devastated. The isolation she felt in dealing with this crisis was unbearable.
It was actually moments such as these that she felt the loss of her mother the most keenly. In her wish for someone to confide in, she sadly thought to herself, ‘I wish mom were here.’ Nevertheless, she tried her best to conceal the tumult of emotion that welled up within her and as she sat back down on the couch next to Clara she tried to smile and hide her angst.
Upon her return Karen attempted to joke with her, “Hey, that must have been some kind of voicemail. Was that your other boyfriend?”
Clara seemed a thousand miles away however, as she replied, “Huh?”
Karen sensing that something was amiss inquired, “Clara are you alright?”
Clara forced a smile and tried to regain her composure, “Oh—yeah. Everything’s fine.”
According to those that adhere to the precepts of the “Fake it till you make it philosophy”, the more one repeats something the more that they come to actually believe it. If this really were the case, Clara Walker was certainly making a very poor showing of it.
Nevertheless, looking down at the ground and trying hard not to think of her father and the terrible isolation that consumed her, she again quietly repeated, “Everything is just fine.”
MEANWHILE IN DOWNTOWN DC, INSIDE AN INDUSTRIAL WAREHOUSE. Tessa Rogers roughly shoved Raina Martin into a human sized cage and locked the door behind her. Raina stared in disbelief as the petite woman advised her, “Okay just sit tight girlfriend—let’s see if your man comes through for you.”