by Jacob Chance
“Why would they?”
“They could blame you for his death.”
“How would they even know about me? It’s not like anyone saw me with him, except that one guy who taped me to the chair.”
“Who's to say he didn’t tell anyone? The only way to truly keep a secret is for no one else to know.”
“How would he know Belfast is dead for sure?”
“I’d imagine the more time that passes, the more he’ll suspect that’s the case. If you saw him again would you recognize him?”
“Yes.”
“If you do, I want to know immediately.” He lowers his chin, locking eyes with me.
“Okay. But I doubt I’ll see him again.”
“I hope that’s the case, but we can’t be too sure. You need to keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.”
Sam seems genuinely concerned. If he wanted me dead, would he be going through all this trouble?
“I’m gonna go. If you need anything you have my number.” He starts down the hallway.
“Thanks again… Sam.”
He spins around, walking backward long enough to practically blind me with his wide smile before turning forward again. I close the door and fasten all three locks, feeling more confused than ever about who could be behind the explosion because I don’t think Sam had anything to do with it. He wasn’t even in Boston yet. Fuck. I need some answers and I need them soon.
Chapter Six
Belfast
“Have you ever seen anything like that before?”
I see flashes of light above me and silhouettes roaming through it in my periphery. It feels like I’m laying down.
“Hell no. What the fuck was he thinking?”
I hear voices speaking above me, but I can’t turn my head to see them. They seem so far away. I can’t move, and I’m fading in and out.
“Drag him over here.”
Am I moving?
“Move his left arm back. That’s it, right there. Now, everyone shut up.”
I know that voice.
“Holy shit.”
“I said shut up.”
“But he just clenched his fist.”
I hear what sounds like footsteps quickly shuffling away in the dirt all around me.
“Are you kidding me? Hit him again.”
I know that voice
“Christ, his leg is moving now.”
“Hit him again.”
“Who?”
“Everyone.”
I’m sitting down.
I’m not sure where I am, or how long it’s been, but I do know I’m sitting down.
I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.
Everything hurts.
I try to raise my hands to massage my aching temples, but I can’t. It takes me far too long and a fair bit of effort, but I get my eyelids open and instantly wish I hadn’t.
I’m sitting naked in the middle of what looks and smells like an abandoned prison cell.
I slowly turn my head from side to side, and then look down to find I’m shackled with rusted chains to a metal restraint chair.
There’s a pair of large fluorescent light tubes directly above me. Before my eyes can adapt, the bulbs crackle to life, forcing my eyes shut again.
I hear a door creak open and someone walks into the room. “Jesus Christ, he’s awake again.”
I hear someone step out and slam the door shut.
The door opens up again immediately. “You are a real pain in the ass.” He steps closer, but I still can’t see him. I feel a sudden, sharp, stabbing pain in the side of my neck. “Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon.”
I know that voice.
Everything is fading again.
I hold on as long as I can.
I see Georgia up ahead of me in the distance.
She’s calling out to me, but I can’t hear her.
I try to reach out for her, but my arms won’t move.
I scream her name, but she can’t hear me.
She’s gone.
I feel like I’m hungover again, but I fight the urge to pick my head up. Instead, I slowly open my eyes and wait. It takes a few minutes but my vision eventually adjusts.
I can tell by the chains around my legs and the floor beneath me that I’m in the same place. I take a few long, cleansing breaths to clear my head. I raise my chin up slowly and begin counting to myself.
I reach thirty seconds before the light snaps on and the door crashes open again.
“I guess we’ll have to up your dosage.”
I feel the same stabbing pain in the side of my neck again, and I quickly begin to slip into unconsciousness.
This time when I wake up, I remember the last time. I remember it all. And I remember they’re watching me.
I don’t move. I don’t pick my head up. I don’t take any irregular breaths. I just wait… and count.
One minute comes and goes. Five minutes turns into ten, and then fifteen before I hear the light fixture buzz and crackle to life above me.
The door crashes open. I hear footsteps approaching, and then slowly circle around me. “He’s still out. How long till he’s due again?”
“His next dose is in fifteen,” a voice chimes in through what sounds like an old public address system speaker in the wall.
“Give it to him in ten minutes. No more chances with this guy.”
The voice leaves the room and the overhead light snaps off again.
I’m careful to stay still and mindful to keep breathing in a constant, steady rhythm. I keep my posture the same, with my chin tucked into my chest. I need to appear unconscious.
And now I wait. I wait, I count, and I listen for exactly ten minutes before the light switches on again. The next thirty seconds are difficult.
Keeping perfectly still and pretending to be unconscious when you know someone is about to walk up and jam a needle full of tranquilizer into the side of your neck, is damn near impossible. But I do it.
I quickly adopt the same strategy the next time I wake up. I wait, I count, and I listen.
It’s twenty minutes before anyone comes in the room and the process repeats.
Each time I lose consciousness I see Georgia, but she’s always just out of reach.
By the time we reach the fifth cycle, the side of my neck feels like a dartboard in a dive bar on a busy Friday night. I’m also awake for fifty two minutes before the light comes on.
Over the last few rounds I’ve overheard some bits and pieces of conversations between the men holding me, who’ve clearly gotten too comfortable, too quick.
I haven’t heard enough to piece anything specific together, especially with all the tranquilizers they've been giving me. But I have heard enough to understand I won’t be alive much longer.
“How long until we load him up?”
“Three hours till we’re wheels up.”
“So this is it then, cowboy.” One of the men steps in and picks my chin up. “Boy, did you turn out to be a disappointment.” He slaps my face, hard.
It takes everything I have to remain still and not react.
Neither one of them speaks again. One of them sticks the needle in my neck as the other leaves. Once he’s emptied the entire syringe, he simply yanks it out and follows his buddy out the door.
I can’t help but wonder if I’ll even wake up again.
If I do, will I have enough time to find myself an opportunity? Will I be in any condition to even make a move? But mostly, I wonder if I’ll ever see Georgia again.
“Wake up.” An unexpected slap across my face has me snapping awake. My cheek feels like it’s on fire. I open my eyes wide and have to close them immediately. The sun is too bright. It’s painful.
We’re outside.
Another hard slap from the opposite direction knocks me sideways.
“Let’s go, asshole. It’s time to serve your purpose.” It’s Green, and he laughs as I fall to the ground at his feet.
I�
��m disoriented but manage to get my eyes open and assess my situation. I’m no longer chained to a chair, or naked. Both good things.
I do, however, still have restraints around my hands and ankles. I also have no idea how long it’s been, where I am, or how I got here.
I try to stand, but I can’t quite get my legs steady enough. All the inactivity combined with being shot up with tranquilizer has made them weak.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Green gets annoyed watching me. He grabs hold of my neck and pulls me up from the ground.
I pop my head straight up into his chin on instinct. His head snaps back and we both tumble to the pavement. I can hear him struggling, but before I can get up, he connects with a kick to the side of my head. I’m flat on my stomach as he then introduces my ribs to his steel toe boot, repeatedly.
“Motherfucker.” He stomps on the side of my face one last time.
“What’s happening?” A radio cracks to life on Green’s hip. “Is there a problem?”
“I’m fine,” Green barks into his comms. “You’re still good to go.”
“Are you sure?” the voice snips back.
“Good to go,” he snaps.
My ears are ringing, or maybe it’s my skull. I can barely breathe, and it feels like he’s broken at least two of my ribs. I try to push myself up again, but I’m seeing stars from the kicks he’s just delivered to my head.
This is all going wrong.
They must’ve given me a stronger dose of tranquilizer the last time. And now Green’s boot stomping has me on the verge of blacking out.
“I think you broke one of my teeth.” Green steps over me and keeps walking.
It’s painful, but I roll over to keep an eye on him. I watch as he walks over to the passenger door of what looks to be a government-issue black SUV.
“Fuck me.” Green stares into the side mirror. “You did. You cracked one of my teeth.” He punches the door and stalks to the back of the vehicle as I struggle to steady myself on all fours. “Now I’m going to have to go to the dentist.” He kicks me in the ribs as he passes. “I hate the fucking dentist.”
I spend the next minute coughing and hacking, hoping I don’t start spitting up blood.
I crawl to the back of the vehicle as best I can. The restraints make it slow going and difficult.
“You know, I was going to give you a break and end it quickly. I really was.” Green slides a drawer out of the back of the SUV. It has a series of detonators lined up along the front of a monitor.
It’s hard to make out the live feed, but I recognize what’s happening. They’re planting explosives nearby. Someone else besides me is going to die soon, and my dead body will be left behind to carry the blame.
“Let me know when they’re set and in place. No mistakes. We’ve only got one shot at this.” Green speaks into his comms as he notices me finally struggling to stand. “You’ll have sixty seconds to evacuate.”
He springs forward and plants the heel of his boot directly into my sternum. The force of the blow knocks me off my feet and leaves me flat on my back, gasping for breath. I’m convinced my lungs have collapsed.
“Don’t bother, asshole.” Green stands over me and smiles down through bloodied teeth. “We’ve pumped enough ketamine into you over the last week to take down a bull elephant.” He yanks me up off the ground, dragging the blade of a knife across my stomach as he does. I fall back against the SUV and try to shield myself as he comes right at me again.
“We’ve got a couple of minutes, so let’s have a little fun.” He motions as if he’s going to slice at me again but drives it straight down into my leg.
I stagger backward, trying to cover my leg while watching him closely.
“And when we’re done here, I’m going to pay your little girlfriend a visit.” He smiles and circles me like a big cat playing with it’s food.
The pain of the knife wound instantly gets my adrenaline pumping; Green’s threat against Georgia sends me into a rage.
He lunges in for what I’m sure he thinks will be an easy strike. But I leap forward into a drop kick and drive both of my heels straight into his right knee, snapping it back in the wrong direction.
I land on my back and roll up to my feet as quickly as I can. Green’s writhing around and screaming with his eyes wide open, all while trying to push his knee back where it belongs.
Shuffling over to his mobile control panel, I quickly assess the mechanism.
“Don’t,” Green shouts.
I smile and set off the explosives, instantly killing all of his men.
“No.”
Limping back over to him, I pick up the knife he’s abandoned on the ground and use it to cut my restraints. Green looks broken and collapses onto his back, surrendering himself to what comes next.
“So, ketamine huh?” I smile. “It was a good plan, really it was. But I was raised on whiskey and cocaine, back in the days when you were still suckling on your ma’s titties.” I reach down and grab his hair, pulling his head up off the ground until we’re looking into each other’s eyes. He looks helpless. He looks weak. He looks terrified.
I smile and slowly push the knife up under his chin, and then I keep pushing until it reaches his brain. I watch him spasm and kick as the life drains from his eyes.
Chapter Seven
Georgia
I’m the only one in the office this morning, which suits me fine. I’ve felt so alone here lately, and that’s a horrible way to feel when you work for the FBI. We’re supposed to be able to count on our fellow agents to have our backs at all times. How can I confidently do that when I’m not sure which agents I can trust anymore? And on top of that, Nash had to bring in agents from other states to help out, since we lost so many people in the same explosion that killed Karyn. I don’t know them personally. How do I know if they’re trustworthy or not?
I’m going to have to be my own island and assume the worst about everyone. At least that way I won’t place my trust in the wrong person or count on someone who’s out to get me.
I continue working on the case with the professor involved in a sex ring. I focus on my work, doing my best to shut down all unrelated thoughts. I love my job, but one of my favorite things is not necessarily paperwork. However, today it’s providing the distraction I need.
Aside from saying a few quick words to Zoe when she arrived, I’ve barely come up for air, and before I realize it, the clock is showing that it’s past one.
Tugging my ear buds out, I glance over at Zoe, catching her eye, a hopeful expression on my face. “Are you ready for lunch?”
“Yes. I thought you were going to forget about our plans,” she references how we discussed grabbing lunch before she takes me to get my car.
“You should’ve poked me or thrown something at me”
She laughs. “You were in the zone, and I didn’t want to bother you.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m not sure I would’ve noticed anyway. I was pretty deep in a sea of depravity. This professor is a sick fuck.”
“I can only imagine.” Zoe shakes her head.
“What do you think of Sam?” Zoe asks from across the picnic table at a local park. We grabbed food at a drive thru so we could enjoy this beautiful fall day.
I shrug. “He seems okay. I like him better now than I did when I first met him.” As much as he was an asshole at our first introduction, I can’t really blame him. He didn’t know who I was or whether I could be trusted. Much like I’m not so sure about him now.
“Nash thinks highly of him. He had a great reputation in D.C., and he says Sam’s going places.”
I’m not surprised. I can tell Nash likes him. Plus, Sam has that same confident manner that leaders always seem to have, and he’s charismatic.
“He’s sexy as hell,” Zoe mentions with a mischievous smile. “What? I can look. I’m married, not dead.”
“How’s Nash feel about you thinking Sam is hot? I bet that went over well.”
“What makes you think I’d tell him? I’m not dumb. I love my guy, but he’s a possessive caveman at heart.”
I laugh. “Smart thinking. He’d never let you hear the end of it.”
“Exactly. I’m not setting myself up for that. But back to Sam. He’s single, you know?”
“I know he is.”
“How?” She looks extremely pleased.
“We grabbed dinner last night and he gave me a ride home.” I’m not sure why I’m confiding in Zoe when I’m trying to keep my distance. But I miss my friend, and it seems harmless enough to share this information with her.
“Did anything good happen?”
“I guess that depends on your version of good. I’m pretty sure you’re referring to anything of a sexual nature, and that would be a big, fat no.”
Zoe’s nose scrunches. “Boo.”
“We did talk and resolve some of our issues, though. He’s nicer than I thought he was.”
“Maybe you guys will go to dinner again soon.”
“Don’t start trying to play matchmaker. I’m not interested in a relationship with Sam or anyone else.” As it stands, the one man I want, I can never be with.
“Okay, I won’t—for now. But guys like Sam don’t come along often. He’s handsome, charming, successful, and he knows that your career comes first, as does his. Sounds like you guys are a great match up if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you, though.” I roll my eyes.
“That’s the sign of a good friend. We always have your well-being at heart.”
I nod and force myself to take another bite of my burger. I just hope Zoe’s motives are pure and not meant only as a distraction.
After lunch, Zoe dropped me off at the garage to pick up my car. Once I’m sitting back inside the familiar interior, I put my head back and close my eyes. I picture the last time Belfast and I were in my car and all that happened that day. It feels like a dream. I’m not sure how we managed to survive the gunfight. And then later, when Belfast came back and saved me from the two men who were going to kill me. He was my hero that day, for sure. But now I’ll have to be my own hero. There’s no one else to save me.