I Will Not Yield

by William Hogan

  “Possibly. Or O’Connor walked away with them. He still might be involved.”

  “What do you believe?”

  “Belief and knowledge are two different things.” Del leaned back. “Everything that is happening is crazier than a soup sandwich. They were smart, picked a secluded spot with no cameras.”

  “He couldn’t have gotten away on foot.”

  “You’re too quick to dismiss possibilities. We’re checking the airport, train yard, and we locked down the neighborhood, but they’ve come up empty. O’Connor either knows something, as he claimed in the server break-in, or is involved with the terrorists and has been deluding us since his incarceration. Perhaps earlier.”

  “But you don’t honestly believe that.”

  “Here goes, Mel.” Del was the only one in the department who did not refer to her as Kasai. “They didn’t nab him. They had punched hundreds of holes in that van before they blew it up. They wanted their roadkill barbecued. This was a takedown, simple as I can put it. But if I don’t consider all possibilities, I might as well retire now.”

  “I understand.”

  “I don’t think you do. I told Mr. O’Connor when I chipped him that we had to dangle him in front of whoever wanted him. He’s been looking over his shoulder ever since.”

  “You knew way back when?”

  Del folded her arms in front of her. “No. I believed. In fact, I planned for the possibility. Sure it didn’t turn out exactly the way I figured it would. But Mike did end up in the middle of this shit, I was right about that. Somehow I knew he would, that boy, just won’t let well enough alone. He is a magnet for trouble.”

  Melanie smiled as if she had just won a poker match. “Permission to speak freely?”

  “If you’re about to call me a conniving bitch, agent, you’ll have to do it over lunch tomorrow. Your treat.”

  “Almost something like that. My treat? You think money grows on trees.”

  Del ignored the bait. “This case is your number one priority. I don’t want to see you again until O’Connor is chained to your desk.”

  “You got an idea where I can begin?”

  “I’ll forward what we have. We tracked down Mike’s foster brother out of state. That guy is a character, but he doesn’t know where Mike is at. We talked to the neighbors across the street. We talked to his dog sitter. We’re running out of contacts. Track down everyone associated with this guy. Shake every tree and look under every rock. You know the drill.”

  The night came and went, and part of the next day. A lot of calls, but no results. It was late afternoon when Melanie walked into her boss’s office with an armload of food. “All they had left was a ham on rye and a roast turkey on wheat.”

  “Turkey. I ordered a shoulder of ham at the grocery store when my rabbi walked up. Don’t ever piss off your mother and don’t ever piss off your rabbi. Now he’s got me guilty for a week.” Del grabbed the sandwich and soda from Melanie.

  “I’ll remember that.” Melanie flopped down on the chair. “I went through some files and made a ton of calls.”

  “That’s nice, but I don’t see a muscular celebrity hacker chained to your desk. Hand me a napkin.”

  “The only two contacts left are a Juan Carlos, but he turned up deceased, and Kim Maat, Former FBI. She told everyone she believed O’Connor was innocent.”

  “Mustard.”

  Melanie handed her a packet of mustard. “What do you think?”

  Chewing and nodding, Del pointed at her. “Might be a good place to start. We’re running out of rocks to overturn.”

  “K. I checked her phone records, and it doesn’t look promising. I need to finish a ton of paperwork and then I’ll head out.”

  “Just get out there today.”

  May I ask you something? How come you never call me Kasai like everyone else?”

  “I told you before. It’s not your name. And if I really wanted to call you something else, you’d know.”

  Kim leaped out of her skin when she heard the knock on the door. She glanced at a clock on the wall. Almost ten. She flipped on the porch light, looked through the peephole and saw a small oriental woman in a long unbuttoned overcoat exposing a black slack suit. Interesting halo braid. Pretty. Her hair must be long.

  Standing next to the woman was a six footish man in a similar overcoat with a fitted black suit underneath. His black hair was slicked back and perfect, ready to pose in front of a camera.

  FBI. I’d better get moving. Panic gripped her but did not freeze her. She sprang into action.

  She woke Mike, who was in his underpants under the blanket. After he had waken this morning, she fed him, and he drifted off to a sound sleep.

  He woke slowly and lifted his covers. “Very funny Scotty. Now beam down my clothes.”

  She put her index finger to his lips. “They’re in the wash. Keep it down. FBI agents are at the door. You need to hide. Stay hidden no matter what.”

  “Not good.” Mike wrapped the sheets to shroud his half-naked body.

  She winked at him. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your thingee before. Your boxers were open during the arrest. You’re lucky I left your underpants on.”

  “I remember that, actually. Turn around.”

  She did. The second Mike finished, Kim twisted around and dragged and shoved him in the closet.

  The knocking grew louder and incessant.

  Kim ran to the bathroom, stripped out of her clothes, wrapped herself in her bath towel, and turned on the shower to wet her long black hair. Cinching a towel in place, she raced to the front door. Only two minutes ticked off the clock, but it seemed like forever. “Who is it?”

  “FBI ma’am. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Raise your badges in front of the peephole and I’ll consider opening up the door.”

  They did so, and she twisted the doorknob and opened the door a crack. She kept the chain attached. “How can I help you?”

  The attractive female agent spoke. “Ms. Maat. I’m Agent Holmes. We’re looking for a friend of yours. Mike O’Connor.”

  “Mike?”

  Agent Holmes rolled her eyes. “When was the last time he contacted you?”

  “I was at his parole hearing. I’d been meaning to call him and invite him over for dinner or something. Come to think about it, I’m pissed he didn’t call. Is he in trouble?”

  The other agent beamed his best smile. “Of course not, we only want to talk to him. Cross my heart.” Still beaming, he used a hand gesture to cross his heart.

  Is this guy for real? “Well good then. My answer is he’s not here, and I haven’t seen him. Have a goodnight.” Kim regarded the male agent as he lowered his eyes. Crap, he saw the bag. Did he see Mike’s cane? She started to close the door.

  The male agent blocked her action with his foot. He gazed directly into her eyes. “I see that you packed a bag. I love trips, especially with beautiful women. I don’t suppose you’d mind if we look around a little?”

  Like that was going to work. “Look, guys it’s ten o’clock at night, and I just got out of the shower. It was one frigging long day; I need to sleep. Please get your foot out my door.”

  Agent Holmes chimed in. “It won’t take long, ma’am.”

  “How many ways can I say it, he’s not here.” She counted to ten in her head, expecting a response and got none. “Look, I’ll tell you what. If he contacts me, you’ll be the first to know.”

  The male agent removed his foot. “And how will you do that?”

  Kim shoved her fingers between the crack in the door. “Crap, give me your card.”

  He handed her his card, “Call me. It has been a pleasure.” He winked.

  After Kim slammed the door in their face, Melanie’s partner strutted toward their car. “Kasai, she’s hiding something.”

  Melanie nodded. “No shit Sherlock.”

  “Let’s just kick in the door and be done with it?”

  “Let’s don’t and say
we did. We really don’t know jack shit. Hell, the incident happened miles away and no phone calls or contact between the two of them for months. The only call she got was from an auto shop yesterday. I’m not kicking in a door like the Gestapo for nothing.”

  “You just said she was hiding something?”

  “Everyone’s got something to hide. Let’s check the auto shop in the morning, if we have too, we’ll get a warrant and do this legit. Also, stop the Don Juan bullshit, it never works.”

  “It works for you, buttercup.”

  She punched him in the arm. “Works on me? In your dreams.”

  “That hurt.” He rubbed his arm. “The lady’s ex-FBI and knows we won’t be able to get a warrant before morning. We need someone to watch her place.”

  “Don’t worry, I got it covered. A snitch of mine lives around here.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Time To Go

  Mike winced when his bare foot caved-in the toe of a pair of high heels. He slid his foot, nearly twisting his ankle when he stepped on another shoe. That hurt. Why must she have so many dang blasted shoes? Two pairs. That’s all I’ve ever owned at once. The sound of a slamming door made Mike flinch. He peeked through the slats of the closet door and regarded Kim as she approached. He tried to gage her temperament.

  She opened the closet doors. “I think they bought it. The evidence you were here is circumstantial at best, or they would have already been here with a warrant from the FISA court.”

  “I’m not circumstantial, I’m real. What’s FISA?”

  “Get serious, Mike, this is trouble. The FISA Court is who the FBI and the NSA go to for getting no-knock warrants or surveillance permission in cases of suspected terrorism. Interesting that they didn’t try to force their way in, with Chicago being bombed and you knowing something. I bet their visit was a cold hunch, luckily you haven’t called me in months.” The last sentence was growled.

  “Sorry.”

  “You damn well better be sorry.”

  Images of prison walls and wheelchairs bounced inside his head. “Well, I’m glad they didn’t crash through the door. To be honest, there isn’t anything linking us together. I sucked at being a friend.” He offered her a proffered hand and kicked a few shoes out of the closet. “I will be a better one.”

  Her head shifted to where his feet used to be. “What… have you done to my shoes?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing.”

  She shook her head and pointed at the open bedroom door. “Out. Move your fanny and sit at the table. I’ll slip out of this towel and throw on some clothes.”

  “Towel’s fine.”

  She punched him in the stomach, enough to hurt a little.

  Mike followed her with his eyes. He obeyed orders and glued his butt to the kitchen table. The minute hand on her digital stove clock flicked numbers slowly. I guess a watched clock never ticks.

  Six minutes later, she appeared in comfortable clothes. Her hair was dry and brushed. “I was simmering a pot of stew when they came. It should be ready in a minute.”

  “Funny.”

  “What, it's just stew.”

  “No, the tone you used. Reminded me of my mom.”

  “Yeah? Well, guess what? You’ll eat every last drop. We’ll talk in the morning. You need some rest. One day is not enough to recover.”

  “Damn it!”

  She gave him the evil eye.

  Mike understood the unspoken message. He better calmed down. “Sorry, I saw a terrifying map when I broke into the bad guy’s server. The map had markings. Every one of those frigging markings was attacked in Chicago, and they had escape routes on the damn thing. There was a map for New York, Central Park.”

  Kim stood with her hands on hips, listening.

  “I appreciate what you’re doing for me, and it’s probably good that we have clean clothes and a meal in us”--Mike patted his stomach. --“but we don’t have time to sit here--”

  She whirled and faced him. The words shot out at a machine gun pace. “What would you have me do? Drive twelve hours and eight hundred miles to New York, through toll plazas, possible road blocks, and everything else, with no sleep, you’re wounded, and once you get there--”

  “I’m sorry. I just...we can’t sit here, we really can’t.”

  “You’re not using the God given sense he gave you. It’s better that we contact--”

  “Think it through, please. You could have turned me into those FBI agents, but you didn’t. First, they shoot me and then try to blow me up in their custody. Chances are I won’t escape alive the next time.”

  She colored. “That was low. You know I feel crappy about you getting shot during your arrest. Prison. Every damn thing.” Her voice could make ice. “It’s why I quit the FBI in the first place.”

  “May I ask a question?”

  Kim flipped the knob off on the heat on the stove. “What!”

  “Why did you stop visiting me after I got out of the wheelchair?”

  She dropped the ladle she was using to stir the stew. It banged against the side of the pot, hit the edge of the stove and fell to the ground. She ignored it.

  When she turned, Mike could feel her sadness. “Because I couldn’t handle it. I felt I was the worst person on the planet, that it was my fault for not getting Tony to lay off. That’s not the shit I signed up for. You have all these hopes and dreams and expect to do things right and really help people. You know, make the world a better place and all that, and then your asshole partner puts a hole in somebody who doesn’t deserve it. An innocent person goes to jail, and all of sudden you’re not who you thought you were.”

  “You cared.”

  “Yeah Mike, I did. More than I should probably.” She wiped her nose with the side of her thumb to chase a fallen tear. “I had a real hard time of it. I fell into depression. And then later, when you were up and walking again, I didn’t know where it was going between you and me.”

  Mike looked at the floor. “I missed you.”

  Kim wiped her hands on a towel that hung from the oven’s handle. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit. Maybe I was scared, you know, why the hell else was I there other than to play nursemaid? Another chick visiting an inmate out of pity.”

  He watched Kim stir the beef stew. He took a second to really soak her in, something he never did while in a wheelchair, he noticed how her long curly black hair draped over a loose shirt, and baggy blue jeans that hinted at a well-developed body. “You have the prettiest emerald eyes.”

  Kim turned her head away and placed a huge bowl of stew, a large sports drink, and a stash of vitamins in front of Mike. “Take the vitamins, eat the stew, and I mean every last friggin’ drop. Don’t even think about crawling back in my bed. The couch is yours.”

  Mike's lips edged up for the first time in a while. “Too late, I thought about it.”

  “Couch!” Drill Sergeants were less adept at giving commands.

  Mike saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kim tried once more to shut her eyes, but sleep shunned her grip. She tossed and turned until she was too tired to toss and turn. Maybe warm milk?

  She headed to the kitchen. She jumped when Mike spoke.

  “You’re an early riser. I thought you’d at least wait until the sun came up before bugging me about eating.”

  She cocked an eye in his direction. He sat at the table in his underwear. “Can’t sleep either?” He’s not covering up his scars. He trusts me more.

  “Not a wink. Let’s pack up and get the hell out of here. We need to be smart leaving the city. Who knows what we will face in New York.”

  Their eyes met. Mike’s were baggy and bloodshot. “We’ll be traveling exhausted. In the dark. With your damaged arm. But you’re right.”

  “Don’t worry I can handle it, my captures kept me up for days sometimes.”

  “I read what they done, the bastards. I’m sorry.” She flipped the direction of the conversation. “Did they teach you the seven P’s in the Marine
s?”

  “Yes ma’am, Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance. Oh Rah!” He beamed.

  Her shoulder muscles relaxed a little. Damn didn’t know I was that wound up. “Call me that again and you will be sporting a black eye.”

  “Yes ma'am.”

  She gave him another evil eye.

  He scratched his chin. “Let’s plan and prepare. We need to take a computer. A tablet or phone is not compatible with my Linux hacking software. The terrorist jerks think I’m dead, so there’s a chance I can get inside their system again.”

  “My laptop’s not that old, you’re welcome to it.”

  “Good, I will create a virtual Linux machine.”

  “It’s already done; you know I teach computer repair?”

  “I don’t know why I underestimate you, your bad ass. that will save a lot of time.” Mike got up from the chair. “Do you have any clear printer paper? You’re getting a name change.”

  “Abracadabra. That easy?”

  “Ah huh, change your driver license, change your name. I figure as long we pay in cash; most places won’t care. The ones that do will get your name wrong. Might buy us some time if we need it.”

  “You do realize that I was in the FBI and know this shit, right?” She waited for him to nod yes. “I know how criminals run. I chased a hell of a lot to them. Back on subject, let me check my stash. I might have brought some home for a school project. I was making network subnet flashcards for my students.” She emphasized the ‘network subnet’ part.

  “O.K., I get it. You’re a nerd too.”

  “Follow me.” She made an effort to make sure her ass shook. “And I am not a nerd, I am curvy and technically gifted.”

  She had a few sheets. It took a couple of tries to perfect. She scrutinized Mike as he overlaid the license with the clear printed-paper. The overlay added “HEWE” to Kim’s name and changed some numbers. She was officially Kim Maathewe. He changed two of numbers from threes to eights. He picked up a strong magnet and wiped the magnetic strip.

  “You ruined my license, and part of the hologram looks a little screwy.”