The Initiative: In Harm's Way (Book One)

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The Initiative: In Harm's Way (Book One) Page 21

by Bruce Fottler


  “Thanks, can we please change the subject?”

  “Sure. We all went up to Campton again on the Fourth. It was a great time. There are a lot of new faces in the group this year.”

  “I guess I've been gone a while now.”

  “You have.” Susan paused to sigh and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I need to talk to you about something. I know you may not be up for it, but I need you to be. It's about Laura. You guys really need to talk.”

  Sam smirked and slowly withdrew his hand. “About?”

  “She broke up with Ron after that scene at the funeral.”

  “Good move on her part.”

  “I agree, but she's been in a pretty deep depression lately. She blames herself for Angela's death.”

  “Oh? I thought I was the one everyone blamed.”

  “Sam, please stop thinking that. No one thinks so, but it's pretty serious with Laura. She's really not doing well.”

  “How could she possibly blame herself?”

  “Because she thinks if she hadn’t driven Angela out, she wouldn't have moved in with you and would still be alive today.”

  “Wow, that's reaching pretty far to take the blame. She's better at it than I am.”

  “Which means you know how she thinks. You've got to talk some sense into her.”

  “You could do that better than me.”

  “Sam, I really think she needs to hear from you. She even tried to talk about it with you at the funeral, but Ron cut that one short. I think it'll do you both some good. So can you please talk to her?”

  Sam paused and sighed. “You're right, I might not be up for it.”

  “Please? As a special favor for me? I'll be there with you guys to be the referee.”

  Sam chuckled. “Referee?”

  “Sam,” Susan pleaded, “you know I don't ask much of you.”

  “I know,” Sam said reluctantly. “You know I'd do anything for you, so you can stop twisting my arm.”

  “Good. You know I wouldn't twist that arm unless it was important.”

  “But you're a little too good at it.”

  Susan allowed a sly smile. “I know. Let's set it up for Saturday evening.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Saturday, July 22, 1995

  Regal Apartments– Lowell, Massachusetts

  The doorbell rang as Sam stood in the kitchen trying to decide which drinks to offer. For the past couple of hours, he found it difficult to maintain focus on any particular task. He struggled to keep his thoughts from dwelling on the many scenarios his imagination concocted about his talk with Laura. Now that she was at the door, his drifting thoughts snapped into focus. The time had come to confront something that he still wasn't sure he was ready for.

  “Hi, Sam,” Laura somberly said after he opened his front door. He immediately noticed dark circles under her eyes that accompanied a gloomy demeanor. It was something he wasn't accustomed to seeing in her.

  “Please, come in,” Sam said, waving her in. Laura nodded and cracked a labored smile as she passed him. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Nothing, thanks.”

  “Is Sues with you?” Sam asked as he looked out into the hallway.

  “She called and said she'd meet me here.”

  “I see,” Sam replied in a nervous tone as he closed the door.

  Laura stood in the living room and looked around. “It's a nice place.”

  “Thanks,” Sam answered as he hesitantly stepped into the living room. Laura turned to him and they stood looking at each other. He quickly noticed a growing look of anguish in her eyes. What little doubt he had that Susan might have been exaggerating quickly evaporated.

  “Do you want to sit?”

  “Sam,” Laura's raspy voice spoke out as tears filled her eyes. “I'm so sorry for what Ron did at the memorial service. It was ridiculously immature of him and incredibly mean.”

  “I was thinking that insecure was a better word,” Sam tried to joke.

  Laura winced and stepped closer. She embraced him and immediately started weeping.

  “Oh, Sam. I screwed it up so badly. I didn't mean to do that to her!” Laura's words soon grew incoherent as her crying deepened into his shoulder. Sam carefully walked her over to the couch and sat her down with him.

  “Hey,” Sam tried to say but couldn't seem to quell her intense sobbing. He instead sat with her as she continued to fall apart in his arms. Her cries oscillated from weeping to wailing, while she occasionally tried to start a sentence. It went on for a few minutes and Sam wondered if he should give Dr. Hutson a call. He felt helpless. He'd never seen such an intense outpouring of emotion before. It seemed an eternity to him before she started to calm down.

  “Hey,” Sam again said as he lifted her head up to look into his eyes. “I want to make this very clear to you. There is absolutely no way any of this is your fault. In fact, I should be thanking you.” Sam paused as he suddenly found himself choked with emotion. “In a strange way, you helped bring Angela and me together. We shared a wonderful time together.”

  Laura again started to cry and buried her head back into his shoulder. She shed a few last tears as Sam finally reached over to a box of tissues.

  “Our Sues,” Laura said with a slight chuckle as she took a tissue. “She always seems to know what's needed.”

  “I've learned never to doubt her judgment.”

  “Wow,” Laura sighed as she dried her remaining tears. “I can't remember putting on a show like that before. I guess I had a lot bottled up.”

  “I hope this helped.”

  “More than you'll ever know,” Laura replied with a soft smile as she reached up to touch his face. “Thank you.”

  She held Sam in a longing gaze. A weight was lifted from her. The anguish had left her eyes and she looked radiant.

  Sam took in a deep breath and reached up to gently guide her hand back down to her side. “That's what friends are for, or at least should be. I've been straight-up sucky at with you lately.”

  “I really sucked at it, too.”

  “I was just happy that you and Emily patched things up with Angela. It meant a lot to her.”

  “It meant a lot to us too. I'm glad Sues saw that through.”

  “Speaking of her,” Sam said as he looked over to his kitchen clock. “Where did she get to?”

  “I wonder if she set it up this way?”

  “No, that doesn’t sound like her. She'd want to be here for this. ”

  “Maybe she needed to stop somewhere?”

  Sam reached for his phone and dialed Susan's number. After a couple of rings, Susan's roommate answered.

  “Hi, Rebecca, it's Sam. I'm looking for Sues.” He paused and listened for a minute. When the short conversation ended, Sam hung up the phone and looked at Laura with a concerned expression.

  “What's wrong?”

  “She said Sues went to the store early this afternoon and hasn't come back. Her car is still in the parking lot.”

  “But she called me just before I left.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That she needed to do something and would meet me here. Funny, she did confuse your apartment with your old townhouse. I corrected her and she didn't seem put off by it.”

  Sam stood up and started pacing. An uneasy feeling was quickly overtaking him.

  “Do you think something's wrong?”

  “It's just too weird,” Sam mumbled as he walked over to his window. It looked over a small side parking lot where Susan usually parked when visiting. A dark sedan immediately caught his attention. Its interior lights were on and it was parked away from the other cars. He continued to look around but saw nothing else that seemed out of place.

  “Something's off,” Sam muttered as he headed to the door. “I'll be right back.”

  “What's wrong?”

  “Maybe nothing. I need you to stay here while I check something out in the parking lot.”

  “Sam, tell me what's going on,” La
ura demanded in an uneasy tone.

  “It's probably safer if you stay here.”

  “Probably safer? Sam, you're scaring me.”

  “It's just to be safe because of all the stuff the FBI is still investigating.”

  “You mean about the drug gangs? Uh, no way I'm staying here alone. I'm coming with you.”

  “Fine, but please stay close and quiet.”

  They exited and walked down the stairs. Sam carefully opened the main door and looked around. A light drizzle was falling but nothing unusual stood out to him. He waved for Laura to follow as he slowly walked around to the side lot. A streetlamp softly illuminated the area near the car. Sam carefully crept up the driver's side of the car while Laura stayed back near the building. He peered in through the foggy back window and saw the outline of an occupant in the driver's seat. He knocked, but there was no movement. The driver's door was cracked open and he crouched down to make his approach. He slowly opened the door, but there was still no movement from the driver. In the dim luminance from the car's interior dome-light, he noticed a blemish at the back of the driver's head. He looked down and was jolted by the sight of blood dripping out from the bottom of the open door.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Sam, what is it?”

  “Stay there.” Sam took a closer look and saw a single small hole in the driver's forehead. He carefully reached over his lifeless body to retrieve a cell phone that was still in the center console. He opened it and started dialing the only phone number that came into his head.

  “Sam, what's wrong?” Laura impatiently whispered.

  “Just stay there.”

  “This is Ross,” Colin's voice answered from the other end of the phone.

  “Mr. Ross, this is Sam Maxwell. We've got a big problem. I'm in the side parking lot at the Regal. I think one of your security people has been shot dead.”

  “What?” Colin exclaimed.

  “Shot?” Laura gasped.

  “Dark sedan, single occupant dressed in a navy windbreaker. I'm on his cell phone now.”

  “Yeah, he's ours. Assigned to keep a watch on you.”

  “Oh my God!” Laura panted as she came in for a closer look. A look of horror overcame her as she placed both her hands over her mouth.

  “Sam, listen carefully. You've got to get to a public area right now. Don't use your car. Run across the street to the gas station, or to the convenience store. Wait there. I'm sending help.”

  Sam was about to reply when he looked down to the left hand of the dead security agent. It was propped up in his lap and holding something that immediately caught his attention.

  “Hang on,” Sam said over the phone as he reached down and carefully raised and turned over his hand. It grasped the red Matchbox Firebird that Susan gave him. He carefully removed it and noticed a small folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and read a short note:

  We have her at your old townhouse.

  “Oh, no. They have Sues.”

  “Sam, you've got to get out of there now!” Colin demanded. “We'll handle the situation.”

  Sam paused and anger quickly overrode his thinking. He started pounding at the steering wheel in frustration. “Shit! Shit! Shit!”

  “Sam?” Laura beckoned. “What?”

  Sam gave the steering wheel one last bash before calming himself. He looked inside of the half-opened windbreaker and saw a holstered pistol. An intense resolve overcame him. He simply couldn't bear the thought of losing Susan. There was no way he could retreat and wait.

  “Laura, do you have your car keys with you?”

  Laura checked her pocket. “Yes.”

  Sam reached in and pulled out the gun. “Colin, I'm heading to my old townhouse. They have Sues there, so please send help to that location. I'm sending my friend across the street.”

  “Sam, no! Both of you need to get across the--”

  “Not going to happen! They're not going to take Sues! Just send your people to meet me at my townhouse!” Sam closed the phone and stood up.

  “Sam, what is this all about?”

  “I need your keys, then you're going to run across the street to the convenience store and wait for help. It will be here soon.” Sam started to run off.

  “No, I'm not leaving you,” Laura insisted as she ran to catch up with him. “What happened to Sues?”

  “It's not going to be safe.”

  “I don't care.”

  “Jesus, I don't have time to argue,” Sam fumed as they reached Laura's car. “Get in.”

  “Sam, talk to me,” Laura demanded as she got in the passenger side and closed her door.

  “They staged that to give me a message.” Sam handed Laura the Matchbox car with the note. “They have Sues at my townhouse.”

  “Who's they?”

  “Probably the same people who killed Angela,” Sam reluctantly admitted as he started the car.

  “Wasn’t it supposed to be a gang or organized crime?”

  Sam pulled out into the road and sped off. “That's what the news stations are pimping. I can't say anything else.”

  “Was the dead guy in the car one of them?”

  “No, he was supposed to be protecting me.”

  “Protecting you? From them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now who's protecting you?”

  Sam glanced down to his lap where the gun lay. “Hey, I gave you a choice not to come.”

  It took Sam a few minutes to get to his old townhouse development and he parked down the road from his old unit.

  “You're going to stay here with your car,” Sam said as he shut off the car.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Sam took in a deep breath as he picked up the gun. “Something I probably shouldn’t.”

  “Could she be--”

  “I don't know! Look, the second you hear anything, I want you to drive out of here. Take the cell phone and hit redial. Tell Mr. Ross everything you heard and saw.”

  “Why don't you wait for help?”

  “They'll take too long. Do you have a flashlight?”

  Laura opened her glove box and retrieved a small flashlight. Sam gave her a grateful smile as he opened the car door. Laura shifted herself into the driver's seat as he got out. He quietly closed the door and looked up the road. It was lined with parked cars and most of the townhouses were dark. An occasional porch light was on, which helped him walk up the sidewalk in relative darkness.

  He slowly approached a completely darkened but familiar townhouse duplex. With a quick flash from his flashlight, he saw that the front door to his old unit was slightly ajar. He took in a deep breath, crouched low, and entered. His flashlight waved around the dark living room as he pointed his gun in concert with it. No movement or sounds could be heard. He peeked around the corner of the entryway and noticed that the back porch light was on. As he slowly approached with his gun pointed ahead, he came across a dimly lit silhouette sitting on a construction stool in his old dining room.

  “Sues?” Sam whispered.

  “Well, hello there, Maxie. About fucking time you showed up.”

  “Carlos?” Sam asked in shock, slightly lowering his gun.

  Carlos turned on a construction lamp beside him. “Well, look at you. All grown up with your very own gun. What's that? A Glock 20?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Carlos smiled. “Duh! Leading you into a trap, Einstein.”

  “Trap?” Sam echoed as he quickly glanced around.

  “Well, that's the plan,” Carlos calmly replied as he looked to his pager. “We have a few minutes before your backup arrives. So, relax, we have a little time to talk and catch up.”

  Sam stood and continued to hold his gun on Carlos. His mind was in total confusion, trying to grasp why Carlos was there and how he could possibly be involved.

  “Suit yourself,” Carlos said after a brief period of tense silence. “Not sure if you've wondered what I've been doing after we parted, but I scored
a new job. Interesting people I work for these days.”

  “You work for them?”

  “Well, yeah, if we're talking about the same them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they pay better? Good enough reason? Anyway, I was told to come up with a plan to get at you after they fucked up their first attempt. That was a damn nice Acura Legend you had. Sorry, it wasn't my idea to blow it up.”

  Sam gasped. “Are you serious?”

  “Hell, yeah! You just don't screw with a guy's car like that. It's not right.”

  Sam managed to relax himself and collect his thoughts. “Where's Sues?”

  “Don't worry, Maxie, I didn't touch her. She's in the basement waiting for you to come to the rescue.” Carlos let out a satisfied laugh. “God, I just fucking knew you cared most for the little gymnast. They kept insisting that I should have used two-beer Laura to bait this trap, but I knew better. I just don't know what you see in her, Maxie. Spunky, cute, but God, she still looks like jail bait. Well, I'm not here to judge your fetishes.”

  Sam started to lift his gun and take better aim. Anger was starting to take over.

  “Hey, hey!” Carlos cautioned. “Let's not do anything stupid. Wow, it's touching how you came charging to the schoolgirl's rescue all John Wayne-like. But you really didn't think things through very well, did you? My people did a really good job wiring up a hell of a lot of explosives in this place. Now, my job in all of this, besides coming up with a fucking brilliant plan to get you here, was to simply wait until you came rushing in. One press of a button from a safe place nearby and poof, you're history. But I'll bet you're wondering, huh, why isn't Carlos at a safe distance?”

  Sam could only nod.

  “Maxie, these people I work for are really pissed off. I'm pretty sure it's over that guy you killed a couple of months ago. By the way, bravo, I didn't think you had the balls to get into this sort of shit. Well, they’re pretty anxious to send your company a message by blowing the living shit out of you. But relax, Maxie, that was their plan. I came up with a slightly different variation.”

  Carlos paused as a pained expression came over his face. “No matter how much of that weird shit they pumped into me, they couldn't completely sell me on their lame-ass plan. So, here's how my Plan B is going to go. After I walk out the back door, you're going to go into the basement and save poor little Sues. You'll probably get a lot of shit for charging in before backup arrives, but the message will be sent without me having to kill you. I'm sure my people will be pissed with me for altering the plan, so consider it my gift to you for what happened to Angela. I owe you for that. I'm still pretty salted with the way you blamed me for what happened to her that night, but I really liked that girl. Damn shame she got caught up in this, even though you stole her from me. But I can't blame you for that. She was one sweet piece of ass who was too hard for either of us to resist.”

 

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