by Siegel, Alex
* * *
A banging on the bars of her jail cell startled Tawni.
"Tawni Williams!" a guard yelled. "You're being transferred."
She sat up on her bed. The guard was fat and bald. His blue uniform was two sizes too small.
"To where?" she said.
"Military court. The National Guard wants a piece of your ass."
"Fuck." She lowered her head. "What else can go wrong?"
"Come on!"
She hopped off of her bed. Two guards entered and put her in handcuffs. One of them carried a plastic bag that she presumed contained her personal possessions.
She was hustled out of the jail. She emerged into warm air and a sunny spring day. She wondered how many more days like this she would get a chance to enjoy.
A police car with U.S. Army markings was waiting in the parking lot. Two military police officers were sitting in the front. Tawni was helped into the back seat.
She was startled to see Aaron at the wheel. The other MP was one of the men that had been with him at the dock. As soon as the door was closed, Aaron drove away.
"This is Smythe," Aaron said. "He's my second in command. I'm ready for your report."
Smythe had very short, red hair and a strong jaw. Like Aaron, he was impressively muscular and fit.
Tawni was still handcuffed. Apparently, she would stay that way for a while longer.
"I talked to an immigrant rights activist," she said. "She told me something is happening tonight in front of the art museum. I assume she meant the Art Institute."
Aaron nodded. "Did you get anything else?"
"The whole thing seemed strange to me."
"What do you mean?"
"This woman was proud of the violence," Tawni said. "She sounded like a crazy terrorist instead of a normal activist. She was too angry. Immigrant rights was just a cause she picked. She didn't mention any immigrants that she knew personally. I couldn't connect the dots."
Aaron looked over at Smythe.
Smythe raised his eyebrows. "Not bad."
Aaron pulled over to the side of the road and turned to face Tawni. She noticed he had dark circles under his eyes. She wondered how he had spent the night.
"I command a small team in Chicago," he said, "and we're investigating these protests. I want to know who is really behind them. You're going to help us solve that mystery. You'll meet us in front of the Art Institute at sunset. We're going to observe and take notes."
"Wait," she said, "I never..."
"Or you can go back to Cook County Jail. The charges against you haven't been dropped."
She closed her mouth.
"I'll take your silence as acceptance," he said. "Turn around. Let me get you out of those handcuffs."
She twisted around in the tight space. She expected he would use a key, but instead he spat a glob of a yellow substance at the cuffs. She heard a hissing noise. The cuffs suddenly broke apart and her hands were free. She took one of the metal pieces and held it up. The edge was still dissolving in front of her eyes.
"What the fuck?" she said.
"I'm full of surprises," he said. "We're going back to the office, and you can't come with us. You're not ready for that. Where do you want to be dropped off?"
Smythe handed her the plastic bag. She looked inside and found her clothes from yesterday. They were still damp from being dunked in the lake, and they smelled funny. The purple phone in her pocket was dead.
"My mother's apartment," she said. "I have spare clothes there."
"Good." Aaron nodded. "I want to talk to your mother."
"About what?"
"About you, of course."
Tawni frowned. "Uh, I just realized we can't go there. Her apartment building is being fumigated."
He snorted. "Nice try. And don't bother telling me the address. I expect you'll just lie again. Smythe will call the office and tell me where to go."
"I don't like you digging into my personal life, asshole."
"I'm going to dig into every part of your life. And the correct term is sir, not asshole. Practice using it now. Give me a nice happy 'yes, sir.'"
She slumped in her seat.
He gave her a hard look. "Tawni, you took a step forward today. You can take another step tonight. At the end of this road is everything you always dreamed about. Don't commit suicide over one little word."
She wrestled with her feelings. He wasn't asking for much. Being stubborn would gain her very little and cost her everything. For once, she didn't want to repeat the pattern of her life.
She forced herself to say, "Yes, sir."
"I wouldn't call that nice, but I appreciate the effort."
Smythe got the address of Tawni's mother, and Aaron drove off.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at a yellow brick apartment building. It was two stories tall and very wide. Doors spaced at regular intervals provided access to clusters of apartments that shared an outer entrance.
Aaron parked directly in front of a "NO PARKING" sign without making a comment. Either he didn't notice or didn't care. He, Smythe, and Tawni got out and walked up to one of the doors. Tawni tried the door but it was locked.
She was reaching for a buzzer button when Aaron said, "Don't. Smythe, let's see if those lock picking skills have improved."
"Yes, sir," Smythe said.
He took a set of lock picks from a hidden pocket in his pants. With the deft touch of a professional burglar, he opened the door in about thirty seconds. Tawni was impressed.
"You've been practicing," Aaron said.
"You ordered me to, sir."
Aaron led the way through the door and up a flight a stairs. He found the apartment with the right number.
"Does your mother live alone?" he asked Tawni in a quiet voice.
"Usually."
"Good. Don't use our real names in front of her. I'm very serious. You'll get your mother in a lot of trouble. Understand? Go ahead and knock."
Tawni knocked on the door.
Aaron and Smythe stood behind her. Both men carried guns as part of their military police costumes. While they waited for an answer, they put their hands on their guns and seemed very alert. They were ready for whatever was behind that door. Paranoid, Tawni thought.
The door opened a few inches and her mother peeked through the crack. "Tawni!" she yelled. She opened the door all the way.
Ladona Williams was an older, shorter version of her daughter. A hard life had given her wrinkles around the eyes and a permanently wary expression. A small scar disfigured her upper lip. She wore a purple dress made of thin cotton which did a poor job of hiding her varicose veins.
"Hi, mom." Tawni gave her mother a hug.
"Why are you wearing orange clothes?" Ladona looked over her shoulder. "Who are these men?"
Tawni glanced back at Aaron and Smythe. "All I know is they won't fucking leave me alone. I came here to change my clothes."
Everybody walked into the apartment. The main room served as a living room, a dining room, and a kitchen. A doorway led to a small bedroom, and there was also a bathroom. The cheap wooden furniture was very familiar to Tawni because she had grown up with it.
Tawni sniffed the air. "I don't smell your cat."
"Truffles died of kidney failure," Ladona said. "Oh, I have your mail."
She handed a thick stack of envelopes to Tawni. She rifled through them and found only junk mail and overdue bills. She was still carrying student loans from her days at the University of Illinois at Chicago. Lately, her credit card debt had been piling up, too. She wasn't good at finding or keeping jobs.
Aaron was looking over her shoulder. He snatched the stack out of her hand and handed it to Smythe. "Clean up this mess."
"Yes, sir." Smythe stepped back and took a gray phone from his pocket.
"What are you doing?" Tawni said.
"Being nice to you," Aaron said. "Don't complain."
Smythe called somebody on the phone. He started opening envelope
s and reading off account numbers and balances.
Aaron smiled at Ladona. "Hello. You have a lovely daughter."
"Thank you," she said. "Are you military police?"
"That's what it says on my uniform. I'm Sergeant Joseph Drake. If you don't mind, I need to ask you a few questions about Tawni."
Ladona glanced at Tawni. "Why don't you just ask her?"
"Because I'd rather hear your answers," Aaron said.
"Mom," Tawni said, "you don't have to talk to him."
He glared at her. She pretended not to notice.
"What was Tawni like as a girl?" he asked her mother.
Ladona smiled. "The prettiest little darling on the block. Boys were always coming around, even back in grade school. She broke a lot of hearts. Why?"
Tawni crossed her arms and sniffed.
"These are just standard questions," Aaron said. "Did she get into fights?"
"She almost got expelled from high school. She punched one girl hard enough to break her nose."
"Mom," Tawni said, "Nia wrote the word 'whore' on my locker with lipstick. She deserved it."
"You went out with her boyfriend," Ladona said.
"He asked me, and we never had sex."
"What about that fight you had with a teacher? You kicked that poor man in the balls."
"Mr. Seaton kept staring at my legs!" Tawni said. "He wouldn't stop even after I complained."
"What about drugs?" Aaron said. "I know that's a big problem around here. Did Tawni ever get addicted?"
"I don't think so." Ladona smiled at her daughter. "She was always too smart to get caught up in that shit. Did you know she won the spelling bee in seventh grade?"
"I'm not surprised at all."
Tawni looked at Aaron. What does he know about me? she wondered.
Smythe closed his phone and came over. "All done, sir."
Tawni noticed he had dropped her mail into a trash can. "What's done?" she asked.
"Thank you," Aaron said. "Ms. Williams, if you could change one thing about Tawni, what would it be?"
"What kind of questions are these?" Ladona said. "Are you really the police?"
"It's just for the forms. Be honest, please. We're almost finished."
"Well, I suppose I wouldn't mind fixing her bad temper."
"My temper is fine, Mom," Tawni said.
Ladona frowned at her. "What about Hakeem?"
"Are you ever going to let that go? The old man fondled my ass right in front of you. It was disgusting!"
"You slashed him with a broken beer bottle. He needed twenty stitches."
"He never touched me again." Tawni stuck out her chin. "Did he?"
"We never saw him again."
Aaron smiled. "I already know about Tawni's temper. It's what got her into so much trouble in the National Guard. She was fired from her last two jobs because of it. Why do you think she's that way?"
Tawni looked at Aaron again. She was getting very uncomfortable with his intense interest in her life. Was he stalking her?
Ladona shrugged. "I don't know. She was so sweet when she was little. When she got bigger, she... changed. I'm not sure I like the big Tawni sometimes."
Aaron nodded. "That should do it. Thanks for your time. Tawni, the front steps of the Art Institute at sunset. Don't make me look for you."
He and Smythe left the apartment.
After they were gone, Tawni grabbed one of the envelopes from the trash can. She found it was the bill for her student loans. She went to a phone in the kitchen and called the number on the form.
"Golden Student Loans," a woman answered. "How may I help you?"
"I'm checking the status of a loan." Tawni read the account number to her.
"Sorry, ma'am, but there is no loan with that number."
Tawni frowned. "I'm staring at the bill right now. I owe you twenty grand. I missed the last three fucking payments." She provided her full name and social security number.
"The computer isn't showing any matches," the woman said. "Are you sure that's a valid bill?"
"Yes! Was the loan paid off?"
"It isn't in our system at all. Tawni Williams never received money from us. I'm sure of it."
"This is crazy." Tawni hung up the phone.
She pondered the bill for the loan that didn't exist. She remembered Aaron's spitting trick in the car. What the hell is going on? Who are these assholes really?
Chapter Four
Aaron walked into his new kitchen. From a social perspective, it was the most important room in headquarters. The team congregated here at meals, and it was the preferred location for informal meetings. He had paid extra attention to the décor in the hope of making it an inviting place. Unfortunately, he had no qualifications as an interior designer, and neither did anybody else under his command.
The long counters and two sinks were made of stainless steel. A matched pair of industrial refrigerators also had a stainless steel finish. At some point he had decided the room was getting too shiny, so the cabinets were made of lacquered redwood. He had heard it was a very durable material. Copper pots hung from ceiling hooks. A smoky glass table in the middle of the room was large enough to seat the entire team.
Leanna and Wesley were seated close together at the table now. Aaron walked over and found Wesley working on math problems. Dozens of loose sheets of paper were littered across the table, and all of them had been used. Clearly, the boy had been at it for hours. Leanna spoke to him in a low, quiet voice.
Aaron's math education had ended at first year calculus in college. It appeared Wesley was solving complex algebra problems and would be ready for calculus soon.
"That's pretty hairy stuff for a ten year-old," Aaron said.
Leanna looked up at him. "Wesley is very smart, sir. It's fun teaching him."
"As smart as you?"
"No, but he knows which equations are true just by looking at them."
"Convenient," he said.
Wesley was concentrating on a problem with three equations and three variables. It looked difficult. Aaron wasn't sure he could solve it even if he had plenty of time to work on it.
He walked over to the refrigerator. "Did you guys eat lunch?"
"Norbert fed us," Leanna said.
"Wesley and Bethany?"
"Yes, sir. All three of us."
Aaron looked in the refrigerator. He needed to send somebody off on a major shopping trip, but there was enough food for a simple lunch. He started grabbing the components of a turkey and cheese sandwich.
Wesley put down his pencil with a loud thunk. "I got it," he said proudly.
"That's the correct answer," Leanna said.
Wesley looked at Aaron. "Where were you this morning?"
"Ask me again," Aaron said, "but this time in a polite and respectful manner."
Wesley hesitated. "Please, tell me where you were, sir."
"I got Tawni out of jail and visited her mother."
"Why didn't you bring me?"
"Are we going to have this conversation every time I leave the building?" Aaron stared at Wesley.
"You promised we would go out together."
"Later."
"When?" Wesley said.
Aaron snarled. This situation was intolerable, but he didn't know what to do about it. "Tonight. We're going to observe a protest in front of the Art Institute. It could turn into a riot, so we'll have to prepare for trouble. Norbert and Tawni will be with us." He rolled his eyes. "I can't believe I'm taking the Voice of Truth to a riot."
"Thank you, sir," Wesley said. "It sounds interesting."
"I'm going to eat my lunch now and take a nap. I'm exhausted. I was on security duty last night, and it was a very tiring shift."
"Carlos?"
"How did you know?" Aaron said.
"He does that kind of thing. Creepy jerk. If you had woke me up, I could've sent him away."
"Can you tell me how he penetrated all of my security without lighting up a single alar
m?"
"He's dead," Wesley said. "He can become a ghost. He walks through walls."
"So he's invulnerable, and there's no way to contain him?"
"And he can suck out your life by just touching you. God was in a very bad mood when He made Carlos."
Aaron sighed. "No wonder everybody is so damn scared."
* * *
"That will be a hundred and twenty dollars," the teller said.
Tawni handed over her credit card. A minute later, she received a one-way bus ticket to Indianapolis. An old boyfriend lived there and was eager to renew their romance. More importantly, it was a good place for her to hide for a while. In retrospect, she should've left town weeks ago.
She walked over to one of the plastic benches in the bus station and sat down. Voices echoed from the hard walls and floor in the cavernous space. Two boys were trying to steal candy from a vending machine by sticking their thin arms up the slot. Four nuns wearing habits stood in a small circle and glanced nervously at the people around them. A man wearing filthy clothes sat in the corner with his legs sticking out. It wouldn't be long before the police moved him along.
Tawni looked down at her purple suitcase. It contained all her possessions, at least the ones worth keeping. She didn't know when she would be back in Chicago. Possibly never. She was planning to start a whole new life. This time she wouldn't make the same stupid mistakes, she hoped.
She looked up at the clock on the wall. Her bus would be here in ten minutes.
Twenty minutes later, she was starting to get concerned. The bus system wasn't known for always being on-time, but there had been no announcement. She urgently needed to get out of here.
A man sat beside her. "Are you hard of hearing?" he asked.
She turned to him. She wasn't surprised to find Aaron sitting there with a very irritated expression.
"No," she said.
"What was that little word we talked about before?"
"No, sir."
He furrowed his brow. "Then maybe my orders weren't clear. I tried to be as explicit as possible. I told you to meet me at the Art Institute." He looked at the ticket in her hand. "I guess you thought I meant the Art Institute in Indianapolis, if there is such a place. Next time, I'll be sure to mention the city I expect you to be in."
"How did you find me?"