A Ruthless Victim

by Nadia Siddiqui

  Personally, Nathan sometimes wonders if it is a team of humans that large or simply a very intelligent artificial intelligence system. Neither would surprise him in the slightest. Whenever it comes to the company, Nathan is certain that anything is possible.

  Nathan clears his throat for attention, and the woman heaves a long-suffering sigh. She drags one leg across the other and lets them fall heavily into the old carpet, forcing herself to sit up straighter in one clunky movement. She’s clearly put out by the fact that he has come here to stand in front of her. Her irritation melts away into a smile that Nathan isn’t sure is totally genuine or not. “Something I can help you with, sugar?”

  Nathan doesn’t much care for pet names, but he pushes past it. “I’m looking for Mr. Paulson, is he in?”

  The woman looks him over carefully like somebody who is accessing if they should be threatened or not. Sizing him up to see what answer she’s going to choose to provide him with and finally, she shakes her head which sets her halo of brown curls shaking around her face prettily. She doesn’t seem like the sort of woman that does anything that she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t seem like she could be moved without motivation; she too, seems to ooze that confidence that borders on arrogance that is the mark of the independently wealthy.

  “Sorry, he’s out of the office. Would you like to leave your card?” She’s reaching for her small purse now, deciding that the conversation is over. She unclasps the top of her bag and fishes out some pressed powder in a compact, patting at her skin with it.

  Pointedly, Nathan looks back over his shoulder toward the parking lot where there are three cars. One that he drove here himself, a white hybrid car to match his persona. Something very sleek and fancy that she likely never utilized properly for the heels on her feet, that’s pink, so Nathan assumes that one is her own. Then beside that is a steel gray Ferrari, which probably cost a lot more than this entire shack of a building cost. Nathan crinkles his nose at her and tightens his grip on his suitcase. “I’ll think I’ll wait, if that’s alright with you.” They both know that Alex is here somewhere in the building and for whatever reason, doesn’t want to be disturbed.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible; we have a strict no loitering policy.” She’s clearly irritated now by the way she shows all of her teeth as she smiles at him, hoping to use that as a deterrent no doubt, but Nathan will not be so easily swayed as he moves over to the three chairs pressed up against the far wall, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and laying it over the top of the cushion so as not to dirty his expensive suit.

  Whenever he’s supposed to be Chase Shaffer, the company always upgrades his motel room into a hotel suite, he gets a better rental car, and his clothes always arrive pressed inside of garment bags. Nathan feels like because of all of these things, he knows that whoever he was before he started to work for the company wasn’t a wealthy person. The starched shirts and uncomfortable neckties aren’t something he thinks that he will choose to keep wearing whenever his contract is over.

  The woman rolls her eyes and stands. “What is this regarding?”

  Nathan matches her cheap smile watt for watt. “I’m with Judge Cantrell’s office.”

  The woman’s expression changes instantly, from openly hostile to almost accommodating. She stands and flusters, smoothing her skirts down, and her whole face transforms. “Oh sugar, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, can I get you some water? He’s just handling a little bit of business right now, but he’ll be finished shortly; let me see you to our conference room and get you a nice cuppa coffee, what do you say?”

  Naturally, Nathan isn’t with the Judge’s office, but he’s hoping that adding this little bit of pressure will force him to admit to something incriminating, something that he needs to know in order to have the company issue orders for Nathan. They aren’t certain this man started the car fire, but Bradley Kramer was perfectly honest whenever he said that this was his only enemy. From everything else in his file, everything else tied to him, Bradley seems to be one of those men who had literally everything going for him, and then the world decided to take a massive shit on his chest.

  Funny how life works like that.

  With a small amount of luck, Nathan hopes to start the process of putting Mr. Kramer’s life back to rights.

  The conference room wasn’t much larger than a walk in closet. It contains what appears to be a dining room set complete with a lazy susan in the middle with upturned glass cups and a bottle of sparkling water. No doubt they use this for entertaining. Nathan can almost imagine that woman walking in with a bowl of lemon slices with the seeds still in them as they all sit here pretending to be high class, when in reality, the very existence of this conference room is little more than a mockery of what sort of business civilized folk would conduct.

  Nathan sits at one of the side chairs because there’s little left to do, and helps himself to the sealed bottle of sparkling water and the cup. He doesn’t much care for the bubbles in his water, but anything is better than tap he supposes. They make him wait for another twenty minutes before a loud crashing of a door opening can be heard in the main part of the building followed by a flurry of voices. Where has Alex been this whole time? What has he been up to? Why would she lie? Nathan is tempted to start poking about the room for more information, but he’s not entirely certain when they will be coming in here. Nathan doesn’t have anything inside of his briefcase to bluff with, so he will just need to pull out his best poker face and hope that this works.

  Alex is taller than he expects. Unlike Bradley who clearly used to be an attractive force of a man, Alex seems like a man who was pushed around a lot in his youth. He possesses a weak jawline and a receding hairline. Given how stunning his receptionist or partner is, Nathan honestly had been expecting more than a soft middle stuffed into tight pants and a jacket too large for him. If Nathan squints, he can almost imagine that at one point that jacket might have fit him better if he possessed a little more muscle. He’s hardly wallowing like Bradley is, that’s certain. However, the best way Nathan can describe the face in front of him is somebody that he would very much like to punch. He seems like the sort of man who would have coasted by in life on his father's money and been content to do so. The red, swollen veins under his nose is indicative of a drug problem as well as the way that his forehead is already sweating. However, the woman he had been talking to earlier is clinging to his arm and ushering him sweetly into the room like he has hung her own personal moon. Nathan has never seen such unfiltered adoration up front like this.

  Nathan stands and gestures to one of the chairs as if this were his office. “Have a seat, Paulson.”

  Alex looks him over twice before moving back into the room and of course choosing the head of the table for his seat, so Nathan casually moves to the opposite end to best see Alex.

  “I presume that you know the purpose of this meeting?” Nathan, as Chase Shaffer, starts.

  “No, I haven’t the foggiest. Why don’t you enlighten me as to why you have come here and disrupted my day.”

  “Your day didn’t seem so busy to me.”

  Alex’s shoulders square, clearly offended by the implication. “Just tell me what the fuck you want and get the fuck out of my office.”

  “What a charming office it is too,” Nathan goads, eyes alight with amusement at the fact that Alex so clearly wants to chop his head off already. “Tell me, what is your lovely secretary’s name?”

  “Why the fuck do you need to know that?”

  “So hostile, Mr. Paulson, really we would like for you to be a touch more hospitable. Do you think that you can manage that for me?”

  “Tabitha.” Alex spits through clenched teeth.

  “What was that? I’m sorry, you’ll have to speak up. I can’t hear you over the rage.” Nathan smirks easily. While he has never even met this judge that he is allegedly representing right now, he finds it deeply amusing that Alex is so tightly under this man’s control and clearly h
ates it so much.

  “Tabitha.”

  “Dear Tabitha doesn’t have a last name?”

  “You leave her out of this; she’s not a part of our deal.”

  Nathan tilts his head to indicate that Alex is in no position to say what is or is not a part of the deal, that the judge has all of the cards in this bargain, and Alex looks like he’s about ready to start throwing things.

  “Tabitha...Cantrell….” Alex fumes, every part of his soft body alight with rage.

  Nathan slowly removes a notepad from his pocket and jots down her name for effect the same time that the aforementioned Tabitha comes into the room with a sliced cucumber and places it on the lazy susan next to the water. At least he wasn’t too far off in his assumption then. She moves to stand by the door silently; it doesn’t occur to Nathan to try to make her leave.

  “Very well,” Nathan places his notepad back into his breast pocket. “Your payments have been late for three weeks now.” Nathan steeples his fingers in front of his face, index fingers pressing into the bow of his upper lip as he casually leans back into his chair. At least the change in payments was something that the company noticed as well. “As it really doesn't appear that you have much of value here for me to take as collateral, I’m afraid I have been sent to come up with...alternative payment methods.”

  “Absolutely not, I might have been late, but I fucking paid. Every red fucking cent of it. You can fuck out of my office.”

  Nathan hung his head, shaking it ‘no’ softly. “That’s not possible. I have my orders.”

  “Fuck you and your orders. I’m not paying him any more money than he already gets.”

  Nathan balls the fingers on his hand into a fist, the knuckles lightly cracking as he grins. “I was hoping that you might say that.”

  Only Nathan doesn’t have a chance to say anything else; there’s a flurry of movement behind him that Nathan almost misses, and then a shooting pain exploding over the back of his head, a chime like somebody has struck him with a very old rotary phone, and then everything goes black.

  Chapter Five

  H ead injuries are such a very specific pain, blossoming inside of his skull like the pain would like nothing more than to take up residence here and stay. It’s clear to him that he will have a goose egg on the back of his skull that won’t fade for a handful of days. That bitch Tabitha must have struck him with something. Serves him right for not bothering to pay attempting to her. He had misjudged her; that much is now abundantly obvious.

  There is a single light above his head, casting a harsh glow on the space around him. Nathan’s arms are bound in front of him. His suit jacket has been removed and with it his cell phone. Not that he has to worry about it too much; he knows that the company will come looking for him in an instance exactly like this. How they are going to handle the fact that he has fucked up for a second time, the second case in a row, he doesn’t know. He’s not sure if they are going to punish him for this. Honestly, he's a little surprised that they didn’t punish him in the first place for having disappeared for as long as he did. Three days and nothing more than a warning and a new assignment? Nathan can’t say for sure, but that feels like a very light punishment. Not that he's willing to see what a harsh punishment was. He can't deny that the company is terrifying. Just knowing that they have gotten inside of his mind and tampered with his memories, his sense of self is enough. He doesn’t know if he had the visions beforehand, if that is why the company chose him in the first place or if it simply was another gift that they chose to give him in order to make him a more proficient soldier for their cause. Nathan supposes that those are all things that he will have to worry about later, because the task at hand has him with a throbbing, pulsing headache that’s blurring his vision and making it difficult for him to open his eyes properly.

  Everything smells like bleach and plastic. Nathan is sitting on top of a thin, twin-sized mattress and missing his shoes. His feet are cold. That seems needlessly cruel to have taken his socks as well. Otherwise, he seems to be physically unharmed. There’s a plastic barrier between him and what seems like a walkway. Nathan wasn’t certain before but now he knows for sure that this man, Alex Paulson, absolutely kidnapped Bradley Kramer’s wife and daughter. Why did he bother starting a car fire? Why did he bother letting Bradley presume them dead? No doubt he could have extorted Bradley for a very hefty ransom. He could have asked for anything, and Bradley would have done it. No doubt, he could have gotten Bradley to totally and completely exonerate Alexander just for shits and giggles if it meant that his wife and daughter would come home.

  Now Nathan needs to figure out what Alex did with them and where their bodies are actually located.

  Slowly, he starts to look around the room for anything that might be useful to him. The concrete floor slopes downward into a drain, and there’s a bucket with a roll of toilet paper in the corner. Moderately disturbing and more than a little disgusting. The lights are protected by metal cages holding the fixtures in place, and the ceiling is just high enough that if Nathan stood on the tips of his toes, he couldn’t touch the light cage anyway. This is a proficiently designed holding cell. In the space just outside, he can see a concrete pathway leading down some distance to a set of concrete stairs. Where could this be located? Where have they brought him? There is no fear; he knows that the company will have noticed that he hasn’t made his check in, and they will ping his phone. Nathan knows that he will not be here long. How interesting this is going to play out. Nathan ponders for a long moment about who they will send to come in here and execute them all.

  Nathan keeps his breathing steady and presses his back into the soothing coldness of the concrete wall next to his thin mattress. He doesn’t even bother attempting to escape as there’s no obvious solution for that here.

  Sometime later, arrogantly slow footsteps start to make their way down the stairs. A self-satisfied shuffle if Nathan has ever seen one. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he watches as Alexander moves into the walkway and pulls a chair from the darkness beyond to sit in. He takes his time crossing one leg over the opposite knee, a glass of red wine in his hand. No doubt he feels very triumphant. Nathan doesn’t beg; he doesn’t comment or question; he just sits, allowing his eyes to stay closed because he knows by being complacent, it’s the surest way to irritate his new captor.

  “This used to be a veterinary hospital,” Alex starts, and he doesn’t stop because Nathan doesn’t acknowledge him speaking. “This was once a surgical suite. I can’t imagine the time where this would have been state of the art, mind you, but it certainly does suit my purposes. There are three rooms in all, and then at the end is the one that I updated. It’s still a surgical suite, but the tools are all new and never sterilized, so you can be sure to catch lovely little infections. It’s a hobby that I never expected to have, but hey, what can I say, I’m a natural.”

  It makes sense that this dilapidated building probably sold for next to nothing. This was likely one of those low cost places where they crank out surgeries like nothing. It makes sense that he has kept this building if he has decided that playing around in people's bodies is his hobby as he says. This place would be off the radar and generally overlooked. It is casual enough to not draw attention, and it’s used to having random people in and out of it given the bail bondsmen side. Really, it’s a decent little murder setup if he’s being honest. Not that Nathan would have ever wanted to live this life. Whatever he chooses to do with his retirement, it’s not this. That much is certain.

  “So who are you really?” Alex asks, taking a sip of his wine. Nathan wanted to punch him before, and he really, really wants to punch him now. Nathan doesn’t dignify his question with any sort of answer. Alex is a person who likes to get what he wants, whenever he wants to get it. He doesn’t like to be told no, and he doesn’t seem to have a wealth of emotional intelligence really. “We tried to go through that silly little phone of yours.”

  Nathan’s eyes slowly roll
over to him finally, waiting to figure out what he’s wanting to hear the most.

  “There’s nothing on it. You couldn't have wiped it before I got to it, so who are you? Why do you carry around an empty phone?”

  Nathan knows that if the phone was blank that either they tried to put in the wrong password too many times, and it wiped the phone, or the company already figured out what must have happened to him, and wiped it on that off chance that Alex possessed any technical skills. Which he doesn’t.

  “I guess it doesn’t matter,” Alex clips, irritated that he’s not getting the answer that he wants. “I wasn’t due for a new play thing for another couple months so this is a really a nice little treat.”

  Good for him. Nathan almost refuses to answer him on general principle at this point. He’s watching the man who thinks that he’s in control unraveling further with each passing second. What a stereotype he clearly is. Alex finishes the contents of his wine glass and leans forward to stare at Nathan. “Who do you really work for? How did you find me? What do you know?”