Shot Down

by Steven Sheiner

  There was a short pause, before I heard, “Simon…?”

  I jumped up from the bed. “Sara?! Sara, are you okay? Sara?!” But there was no answer. Christina came back on the line.

  “You took something of mine. Now I have something of yours.”

  Chapter 74

  “Oh my god.” I began to pace back and forth frantically. “What am I gonna do?”

  “You’re gonna stick to the plan,” Ingo said calmly.

  I stopped pacing and turned to face Ingo. “Stick to the plan? She has Sara!”

  “What plan?” William asked. His brow was furrowed and his eyes were squinted together, looking confused.

  “Right,” Ingo said, ignoring him. “She has Sara. And she’s alive. But her life depends on what you do next. We knew we’d have to deal with Christina eventually. Things are just happening differently than we anticipated.”

  “I wasn’t expecting Sara to be a hostage!”

  “I know, Simon, but now both of your lives are on the line. Yours and Sara’s. So stick to the plan, be convincing, and let’s end this shit.”

  “Does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?!” William shouted.

  “In a minute,” I said dismissively.

  Ingo was right. We had a plan, but all I could think about was Sara and the danger she was in. Because of me. All of this was because of me, and I was suddenly wracked with guilt. If something happened to Sara… No, I couldn’t think that way. She was in danger, and it was up to me to get her out. I texted Jordan and Brock to make sure they were okay. They wrote back right away and told me they were doing homework at grandma’s house. I told them to stay there until their mom or I came to pick them up.

  Christina had given me specific instructions on where and when to meet her, where to park my car, to come unarmed, and to come alone. She’d threatened to kill Sara if she suspected the police, the FBI, or anyone else was with me. Ingo insisted on following behind, but I wouldn’t chance it. I knew Christina would have eyes everywhere and couldn’t risk him being seen. William agreed, even though he still had no idea what was going on. Ingo promised to stay behind at the hotel, and I prayed that he meant it.

  I drove in silence, the headlights bouncing off the asphalt, and wondered if I would die today. I’d been looking over my shoulder for Christina for more than a year, and now I was headed straight to her.

  I parked where instructed, got out, and walked toward the building. The lights in the parking lot created intermittent circles on the ground. I avoided them as I walked. I approached the door and my heart was pounding. I pulled on the handle, but it was locked. I tried to peer through the glass, but it was dark inside and I couldn’t see a thing. I knocked twice and looked around, praying I didn’t just walk into a trap. A few seconds later, a light flicked on and a figure emerged, headed for the door. He was tall, good-looking, and muscular, with the same lustrous bronze skin as Callie Ann. He held a gun in his right hand, and he did nothing to hide it as he walked toward the door; he wanted me to see it.

  I stepped back as he opened the door, his eyes locked on mine, never wavering. He held the door open with his foot while keeping both hands firmly on the gun pointed at me.

  “In,” he said, motioning with the gun. I moved slowly, with my hands in sight, and when I was inside, he locked the door behind me, his gun trained on me the whole time. “Hands against the wall,” he instructed.

  I put my hands against the nearest wall and tried to stay calm. “Do not move,” he said. His heavy Hispanic accent reminded me what William had said about the Escalante family, and Christina in particular. Fear bubbled up inside me and I could not envision a scenario in which Sara and I got out of here alive.

  He searched me from head to toe and when he was satisfied, put a firm hand on my shoulder and led me from the front room toward the back of the office. I looked around as we walked, seeing the familiar decor, marveling at how different everything looked now. Things I’d never noticed before. We arrived at the back room and stopped at the closed door. He rapped twice with the muzzle of his pistol and the door opened half way.

  There she was, standing in the doorway. Christina Escalante. Right in front of me. All this time.

  “Hello, Simon,” she said with a smile.

  “Hello, Christina,” I replied. Calling her Dr. Norris seemed pointless now.

  “Please, come in,” she said, and opened the door the rest of the way.

  As the door opened, I saw Sara sitting bound and gagged in the armchair normally occupied by Dr. Norris during our sessions. I moved toward her, but the strong hand that gripped my shoulder held me back. Christina walked over to the desk behind Sara, took a seat, and placed her folded hands on top. There was a pistol resting just a few inches from her right hand.

  With a tight squeeze, the hand on my shoulder urged me forward, and steered me to my usual spot across from where Sara now sat. He pushed me down onto the loveseat and stood over me.

  “Raul, please. Some respect for our guest,” Christina said. Raul walked back to the door, closed it, and stood just inside, watching me very closely.

  Tears ran down Sara’s face, and I could see the fear in her eyes. Clearly, she had come to the same conclusion I had: We were both about to die. I wanted to jump up and go to her, to hug her and tell her it would be okay, but Raul would probably shoot me in the back before I ever got there.

  “Christina, please,” I said looking up at her. “Let her go. She has nothing to do with this. Don’t punish her for what I did.”

  “And what is it that you did, Simon?”

  I swallowed hard, reluctant to answer.

  “Say it!” she shouted.

  “I killed your brother.”

  “Yes. You did.”

  She hadn’t moved from her seat behind the desk and her hands were still folded on top. The perky demeanor of Dr. Norris was gone, and Christina stared at me with fire in her eyes. The stories about her temper were terrifying, and at any moment I expected her to get up from her chair and start shooting.

  She pushed back from the desk and stood. Here it comes, I thought. She walked toward me, leaving the pistol on the desk, and stopped right in front of me. I looked up at her and before I could even react, she slapped me so hard it caused my eyes to water. Then she leaned in, stuck a finger in my face and said, “Don’t you ever tell me what to do. Is that clear?”

  I shrunk back against the loveseat as her finger inched toward my face, so scared by both the calm in her voice and the look in her eyes, I could only nod.

  “Good,” she said, looking satisfied. She stood up, straightened out her top with gentle tug at the bottom, and took a seat in the wing chair to my left, at the end of the coffee table. She sat perpendicular to me and Sara, leaned back, crossed her legs, and folded her hands in her lap.

  Sara and I were going to die if I didn’t do something. Even then we still might. I really didn’t want to do this in front of Sara, but I had no choice. I was more concerned about her survival than I was about her opinion of me right now.

  “It wasn’t my fault...” I blurted out.

  Christina looked intrigued and the corner of her mouth curled up in a slight smile as she asked, “What wasn’t your fault, Simon?”

  “The shooting. They made me do it.”

  “Who?”

  “These two guys. They were brothers, I think. They grabbed me as I was leaving my office one day. They pinned me up against my car, showed me all kinds of pictures and videos of my family. At home, at school, at camp. They said they could get to them anywhere. My wife, my kids. They told me they’d kill them if I didn’t do what they said.”

  I looked over at Sara and her eyes were wide with shock and disbelief.

  “And what, exactly, did they want you to do?” Christina asked.

  “They told me to be at the bank at my usual
time. That someone was going to try to rob it. That he’d have a gun and I needed to be ready for him. And that if I called the police my family would die.”

  “And then what? What did they tell you to do?”

  I looked at Sara again before I answered. The fear was gone from her face, replaced by a look of anger and betrayal. I’d kept a secret from her, something we both promised we’d never do, but I did it for them, to protect them. Just like I was trying to do now.

  “What did they tell you to do, Simon?” Christina asked again.

  I turned back to Christina. “Kill him,” I said. “They told me to kill him.” Sara was crying now, and I hung my head in shame for what I’d done and in fear of what was to come.

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence. I raised my eyes and looked from Christina to Sara, waiting for Raul to walk over and shoot me in the back of the head. Then I remembered what William had said.

  She’ll want to do it herself.

  No, it wouldn’t be Raul. Christina would want the pleasure of killing me. I’d killed her brother, and now she was toying with me. Again. I looked over at her, expecting her jump up and grab her gun off the desk. Instead, she just sat there, unmoving, with a creepy smile on her face.

  “I know, Simon,” she said flatly.

  “You know?” I asked, confused. “You know what?”

  “Everything. I know about the two of them. I know who they are. I know they forced you to do what you did, and I know you did not have a choice.”

  “Wait, what? How do you… I don’t…” I couldn’t reconcile what she’d just said.

  “You should be grateful, Simon. It is for that reason, and that reason alone, that you are still alive. You and your family,” she said, looking from me to Sara and back. “If I didn’t know, all of you would already be dead.”

  I gulped, not sure how to respond.

  “I’ll admit,” she said, “I was going to kill you at first. I was coming for you. All of you,” she said, looking right at me. “But lucky for you, Raul helped me piece together what was happening and who was behind it.”

  I looked over my shoulder at Raul, who stood there holding his pistol, staring at me, begging me with his eyes to try something. I turned back to Christina.

  “I’m not stupid, Simon,” she went on. “I did not get where I am today by not being two moves ahead of my enemies at all times.”

  I tried to wrap my mind around everything she’d just said. She knew. How long had she known? If she knew, why had she been tormenting me for nearly a year? Anger boiled up inside me, and I snapped.

  “Then why all the fucking games?!” I barked, regretting it immediately. Raul tensed up and took a step toward me, but Christina held up a hand and he backed off. She glared at me, both as a warning and to remind me who was in charge. I sat back and spoke in a softer tone. “I’m sorry,” I said, looking at her, then back over my shoulder at Raul. “But if you already knew everything, if you knew they forced me to do it, then why have you been doing these things to me?”

  She looked up at Raul with a cocked brow and then back to me. “What things? What are you talking about?”

  “What am I talking about? The media ambushes. The protesters. My arrest. Callie Ann. The pictures sent to my house…” Sara winced at the mention of them.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Simon, but that wasn’t me. None of it. Believe it or not, I have better things to do than waste my time on a nobody like you. There are bigger fish to fry. Like I said, if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

  Her insult didn’t faze me. After everything I’d been through, the words were trivial. Besides, in her world, I was a nobody and I was just fine with that. But I had a hard time believing she wasn’t behind everything that had been happening to me. Who else had good reason to cause me all this trouble?

  Then again, she had no reason to lie. If she wasn’t responsible, then who was?

  “You can thank Enrique and Gustavo for all of that,” she said, answering my question before I’d even asked.

  “Who’re they?”

  “They are the ones who started this whole thing. They are the two who approached you, who threatened your family, who forced you to kill Carlos, and, from the sounds of it, have been torturing you ever since.”

  “What? Why? Why would they do that? I did what they wanted; why would they punish me for it?”

  “I don’t know, Simon. But I do know everything they do is for a reason.”

  “How do you know that? And how do you know their names?”

  “Because they’re my brothers.”

  The words hit me like a punch in the face. I kept telling myself Christina had no reason to lie about any of this, but I still couldn’t believe it.

  “What?” I blurted out.

  “It’s true,” she said with a nod. “They are my younger twin brothers. Not identical, but twins nonetheless.”

  “But you just said you got where you are by staying two steps ahead of your enemies!”

  “Oh, they may be my brothers, Simon, but they are most definitely my enemies. Do not doubt that.”

  “I don’t understand any of this,” I said, shaking my head.

  She sighed and sat back in her chair. “The four of us came over from Cuba together as children: me, Carlos, Enrique, and Gustavo. We grew up together, we were educated together, we were trained together, and we learned about the family business together. When my father died, Enrique demanded to be put in charge. He was always the smartest. Or thought he was, anyway. Naturally, Gustavo supported him unconditionally. My uncle Luis, however, refused the request, calling them both immature and reckless. Instead, I was named head of the family. Enrique and Gustavo were irate. Even though I was their older sister, never before had a woman held such a position. They left in a fury, cut off all ties to the family, and hadn’t been heard from since. But I always suspected they’d come back for what they believed was theirs.”

  I listened to her story and suddenly everything clicked, and I knew she was telling the truth. I remembered what Ingo had said about his visit to Peter Blunt. He kept saying they, not her. He’d been afraid of what they would do, that there was nothing Ingo could do that was worse than what they would do. I thought back to my conversation with Dave outside the shooting range. He’d said they paid him a thousand dollars for the five names. I had just assumed it was more than one person that included, or worked for, Christina.

  What an idiot I’d been. William was convinced Christina was behind it all, and his certainty nearly made a believer out of me. But I still had nagging doubts, especially concerning Callie Ann.

  I had a thousand questions, and since I didn’t know if I would survive today, I went for it.

  “So that means Carlos was their brother, too. Why would they want their own brother dead?” I asked, not sure how Christina would react.

  She let out a mournful sigh before saying, “I loved Carlos, but he was an idiot. Booze, women, drugs, gambling… He was into everything, and he embarrassed the family too many times. I wanted to help him, to get him clean, but he wound up dead before I got the chance.”

  “But why did they want to kill him?”

  “For the same reason they’ve been doing those things to you,” she said. “To get to me.”

  I sat back in my seat, still confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “If I know my brothers, they got you to kill Carlos, and then began to torment you in a way that would make you think I was responsible. They probably hoped you’d get desperate enough to try to kill me yourself. Do their dirty work for them.”

  I pictured Callie Ann lying on the floor and realized their plan had nearly worked. Only she wasn’t dead. Although she would have been if Ingo had gotten his way. I almost did exactly what they wanted, again, but this time it was the wrong person. My heart sank and a wave of guilt crashed
over me. Callie Ann was just a puppet in this demented game, like me. Had she been hired to do what she did? Or was she coerced? I didn’t know, but right now she was lying face down on the floor of my hotel room, her face bloodied, and her hands bound together, because of me.

  I plopped back against the loveseat, shocked by everything I just heard. I’d been a small pawn in a very big game, and I had no idea what would happen next. The questions kept coming, so as long as Christina was willing to keep talking and not shoot me in the head, I’d keep asking.

  “Why the psychiatrist ruse? Why pretend to be Dr. Norris? Is there even a real Dr. Norris?”

  “No,” she said.

  My attention snapped to Sara. She had done the research that led me to her.

  “Don’t blame your wife, Simon. My people did a very thorough job of creating Dr. Norris and steering you here. It’s not her fault. I wanted to get to know you. Once I realized Enrique and Gustavo had begun their play, I wanted to see what you knew, and what you would reveal. I was very impressed that you never mentioned them or that they forced you to kill Carlos. Not a word about it, even after all this time.”

  I felt like a complete fool. I’d sat across from Christina week after week, not knowing who I was really talking to, sharing my innermost thoughts and feelings, my remorse over killing Carlos, my nightmares, everything.

  “What about the money?” I asked, moving on.

  “What money?”

  I told her about the hundred thousand dollars that had been deposited into my account in the days surrounding the shooting.

  “That sounds like Enrique and Gustavo, too.”

  “Why? Why would they pay me for something they made me do?”

  “That’s easy. If it looked like you were forced to kill Carlos, you’d draw sympathy from the public and the jury. But if it looked like you were paid to do it, well now you’re just a cold-blooded killer.”

  The mention of a jury made me sick to my stomach.

  I let out a frustrated sigh. The two brothers had been working me from the beginning, so I’d end up in jail or dead, maybe both. As long as I did their dirty work, the outcome didn’t matter to them.