Extreme Exposure

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Extreme Exposure Page 11

by Mae Argilan


  "I can't do that. You'll have to knock me out."

  "Don't make me do that. Just promise."

  Unit Seven stood up straight, and looked Geoff in the eye. "It's my job to stop you. I'm going to scream my lungs out as soon as you're gone. I have to."

  "Not if I put a bullet in your throat."

  Glenn rolled her eyes. "Men! You’re worse than freaking dogs." Glenn pulled the clip-on tie off her uniform, wadded it up, and shoved it into the guard’s mouth. "Why don't you just piss on each other, and have done with it?"

  Unit Seven made a muffled sound, and they looked at him. He reached into his jacket pocket, and jangled his keys. Geoff took them. "Where are you parked?" The guard pointed west. "You going to tell them about this, too?"

  Unit Seven nodded. Geoff stared at him for a moment, then lifted the gun, and cracked the guard on the left temple. His eyes rolled back in their sockets, and he sat down.

  "Why'd you do that?" Glenn asked.

  "Am I the only one who noticed? His right hand was free. As soon as we left, he'd pull the gag out of his mouth, and yell."

  "You really are a bad ass, aren't you?"

  "You want to hang around here rearranging the cuffs, be my guest."

  Geoff secured the door behind them. A bare low watt bulb lighted the stairway. He braced his feet against the wall on either side of the steps and shimmied up. He looked down at her.

  "That come with a flashlight?"

  She felt along her holster, and nodded. "It's a damn utility belt, Batman. Got everything."

  Geoff unscrewed the bulb, and darkness was immediate.

  "Should I get it out?"

  "Not yet," Geoff said, piloting her down the stairs.

  They were going around the third floor landing, and she was thinking how acute her senses were becoming, how she could smell the paint on the walls, and then she tripped. There was the sound of metal skidding across tile and voices from the floor below. Geoff felt around the floor with his toe.

  "Wait," he said. "Paint cans." He pulled Glenn down with him. "Under here."

  The canvas tarp was heavy with the odor of latex and turpentine. She wriggled underneath.

  "This will never work," she said.

  Geoff held the gun in both hands, steadying it between his knees. Footsteps arrived and departed, going upward. Glenn stirred, but Geoff checked her with an elbow jab. Voices rose in volume as they returned.

  "Where’d we lose them?"

  "I didn't see anything. What happened to the lights?"

  "We cut off all escape routes. They must be on the fourth floor."

  "Let's go. Be careful. Better assume they're armed."

  "They're just kids."

  "Tell that to Lou when he gets out of the emergency room. Thosekids busted his nose."

  "Let's hope we don't have any heroes here tonight. Why couldn't they just come in? I hate when these situations become uncontained."

  Glenn felt Geoff wither beside her. His arms relaxed and he uncovered his head.

  "Get me to a phone," she said. "There's someone I can call."

  "Then, you're going to tell me what you had to do with my brother's death."

  "First things first. We have..."

  "Thatis first. That is everything."

  They made it down the stairs so simply she began thinking it was a trap. When they rounded the last landing she saw a uniformed officer. The guard heard them, and turned, but they retreated without being seen. Geoff tilted against the wall, and stared at the ceiling. Glenn chewed on her lip.

  "Time to try out that uniform."

  "Won't he notice I'm a girl?" Glenn asked.

  "Not if it’s dark. Fuse box is in the student lounge. Behind the Pepsi machine. All we have to do is walk across this end of the lobby. You can make it."

  "What do I know about fuses? Why don't you use one of those fancy karate moves on him."

  "You might think I'm Superman, but I am not faster than a speeding bullet. Make a run for it." The radio squawked. "Get to the fuse box. I'm going on the air. Don't stop for anything. Black out all the lights, and run for the door there. Got your flashlight? I'll meet you outside."

  She took a deep breath. "I can't, I can't."

  "Just keep moving. Scoot."

  Geoff shoved her between the shoulder blades. She sucked in enough air to swim underwater; thinking that perhaps holding her breath would somehow make her invisible. Her feet slapped every step, echoing into infinity. Sneakers were supposed to be, well, sneaky. She zigged over the last step and zagged to the left. She saw the officer out the corner of her eye. He started toward her. She waved, and kept moving. Her cap caught a sudden updraft, and peeled back from her forehead. She jammed it back on her head, and slid into the student lounge.

  The Pepsi machine was on the far wall. She had room enough to squeeze between it and the wall. The fuse box was held shut by a pincer mechanism that she pulled with a jerking motion. There were a dozen switches in the ON setting. By putting her finger on the outside, and sliding them toward the center of the box she reset them to OFF. She heard each distinct snap. The next to the last one plunged her into darkness. She scrambled from the corner, and felt for her flashlight. Pointing it at the ground she made a dash to the lobby where she collided with the guard.

  "Starsky?" the guard asked.

  Glenn shone the flashlight in his eyes. He flinched, held up his hand, and swatted the light away.

  The radio blurted, and an excited voice yelled, "They're on the roof. All units respond."

  "What's happening up there?" The guard went toward the staircase.

  Glenn ran for the door, crashed into it, and felt the rush of cold wind on her face. Her exit alerted another guard. He was fifty yards away, heading her way.

  "Who's there?" he called. "Who is that?"

  Aclank signaled that someone had followed her out. She looked over her shoulder, and a whisper asked, "What's your name?"

  "Unit Seven," she whispered back.

  "No, yourname ?"

  She felt the nametag on her uniform, and ran the light over it. "What do you know? Starsky. That's my name."

  The officer was coming toward her, and she pointed the light at him, stopping his advance. Geoff crept behind her, and held her hand steady. He put his cheek next to hers.

  "Starsky! It's Starsky, Unit Seven."

  "Get that light out of my face, you moron."

  Glenn saw the guard put his hand on the handle of his revolver as Geoff lowered the light to his neck. "Sorry," Geoff said. "They're on the roof."

  "I heard. What are we supposed to do?"

  "Stay here," Geoff said.

  Glenn looked at him over her shoulder.

  "Where're you going, Starsk?" the guard asked.

  "Feds got me running errands. Don't want to share the glory."

  "What's going on up there?" The guard relaxed his gun hand, but was advancing again.

  "Don't ask me, man. I just work here."

  Geoff let go of Glenn’s hand, and ran down the sidewalk. She leveled the light at the guard, and could almost hear his eyes slam shut. She scampered away, her heart banging against her ribs, and blood squirting against her eardrums. There was a rustle in the bushes next to the path, and Geoff sprang out.

  She squealed. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

  "Who me? I just work here." He laughed. "He lied to us. His car isn't here."

  "I'm glad you hit him," she said. "Where do we go from here?"

  "Let's take the high road," he said, pointing.

  "Where your car is parked? But, he said…"

  "Haven't you been listening? He lied to us. Besides, we still have the uniform, and flashlight."

  "It's gotten us this far." As they hiked up the hill to the student lot, Glenn looked at him. "You're very brave. And smart. I couldn’t believe my eyes when you stood right in front of the guard’s gun."

  "What’s so smart about surrendering to a cop? That’s the easy thing to do. Tryi
ng to make a run for it in a situation like that, now that’s stupid."

  "Still, it bought us our freedom."

  "Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose–Kris Kristofferson.

  "I thought it Janis Joplin."

  "She sang it. He wrote it."

  "Oh. Well, you’re just a fountain of trivia, aren’t you?"

  Geoff glanced back over his shoulder. "Yeah, like that’s what we need to be concentrating on right now. It was important to me to get us out of there so you could tell me what you did to Bobby. You owe me that much. And, after that, I don’t ever want to see you again. Are we clear?"

  "Yes." She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. "I guess there won’t be any more cozy breakfasts for two in our future."

  "You got that right."

  There didn't seem to be anyone in the parking lot when they got there. Not that it mattered. She really did feel as if she had nothing left to lose. She hurried ahead of him, striding out into the open. If there was going to be an ambush, she wanted to be the first one in the line of fire. Geoff quickly joined her at the car.

  "You have the keys?" she asked.

  "You're wearing my pockets." He put his hand out.

  She put the keys in his palm, and got in the car. As they were driving through the lot, she got the feeling again that it was all too easy.

  "We're not going to get far in this," she said.

  "I know. I'll have to ditch it. Man, I love this car. I thought you were going to call somebody."

  "Not without a phone."

  Geoff stopped the car behind Tawes Fine Arts Center. He curled his right arm around the back of the seat. "I want answers."

  Glenn looked through the windshield. She thought of all the things she'd left behind: her camera, her secrets, a pint of overproof rum.

  "We're almost off campus. Can't this wait until we're safe?"

  "Nope."

  "You did assault a police officer." She wet her lips, and looked at him out the corner of her eye. "I'll spill everything. I promise."

  "Now."

  She looked at her hands lying empty on her lap. "It's complicated."

  "What's so complicated? Did you, or did you not kill my brother?"

  "Of course not."

  "Then that's just something you say? Something to break the ice? By the way, I killed your brother."

  "I didn't mean it. I was overwrought."

  "I'm a little wrought myself."

  "What did you do with the gun?" she asked.

  "It's still in my pocket," he said. "Now, you want to answer my questions? Look at me while you talk."

  "I forgot, you like to see the soul in my eyes," Glenn said.

  "You forgot, I know what a liar you are."

  Her jaw began working. "Have you ever heard of the AFIB? They contacted you after Bobby's death."

  "Not that I know of."

  "It's the agency that investigates the deaths of military personnel. Especially if there are extenuating circumstances."

  "Like with Bobby?"

  "I was in my hotel room after the shooting. These guys came. AFIB. Said they knew I was the last one to speak to Bobby. The questioning went on for hours. What did he say to me? Why did he move to the other table? How well did I know him? When they let me go, I took the next plane to Dulles. I thought that was the end of it. But, when I got back, I got another visit."

  "Same people?"

  "They put me in the back of a panel truck, and took me some place. I heard someone say it was the Pentagon. A guy in a naval uniform asked the same questions, only this time a clerk was there taking down my statement. Then, they showed me a picture. The picture that was responsible for Bobby's death."

  "A picture you took?" Geoff asked.

  "Kinda."

  "Kinda?"

  "It was a composite," she said. "I’d snapped some pictures of Bobby. He posed standing at attention, things like that. There was one of him pointing his rifle." Her chin quivered. "Later, I took a picture of a student who was gunned down. It was one of a half-dozen snaps. It seems that somehow, these two pictures... got together."

  "What two pictures?"

  "The picture of an unarmed Arab woman, and Bobby holding his rifle. It looked like he was aiming at her. They wanted to know if I took the picture."

  "And, you told them ‘kinda’?" he asked.

  "I told them the truth. You’re a big fan of the truth. For all the good it did me."

  He studied her for a moment. "I'll drive to the shopping center. There's a pay phone there. You keep talking. Who are you working for?"

  "You have to understand. My career was nowhere. After my affair with Phil, nobody took me seriously. They said I was using Phil to sleep my way to the top. It didn’t matter that he was a broken-down has-been. The only door he opened for me was his bedroom door. So, when the war broke out I saw my big chance to be a war correspondent. But, I couldn’t even do that right. I couldn't scrape together airfare, much less spend months free-lancing. I needed contacts, a sponsor."

  "Who was your sponsor?"

  "I'd done some commercial work for a company. They wanted to bankroll me," Glenn said.

  "Why?"

  "They didn’t say, and I didn't ask. It was the opportunity I was praying for. I admit it. I'm guilty as hell. They handed me a plane ticket, and that's all she wrote. They paid my bills, and hired me a Kurdish assistant. He knew the lay of the land, the culture, the language. I could never have gotten into the places I did without him. All I had to do was make dupes of the negatives. I gave them to him, and that was the end of it. I swear. I never dreamed someone would use my negatives to invent a war. I thought I was recording history in the making."

  "Did they believe you?" Geoff asked.

  "I guess so. Shortly afterward they told me they had an assignment for me."

  "What assignment?"

  "This one," she said.

  Geoff stopped the car, and looked at her. "Don't make me repeat myself."

  She frowned. "I'm getting a little sick of this bad-boy routine of yours. I'm doing the best I can."

  "What assignment?"

  "You. Your family. My assignment is to protect you from terrorists."

  Geoff’s eyes widened. Then, he laughed. "You? Ha, ha. You're going to protect me?"

  He held his stomach, and howled like a curly-haired hyena. Before she could stop herself Glenn slapped him across the cheek, so hard it stung her elbow. He knocked her back on the seat, put his forearm across her windpipe, and squeezed until she blacked out.

  13

  The slamming of the car door jarred her awake. Glenn sat up, her thoughts racing. She was in a tunnel. The passenger door was next to the wall, and couldn't be opened. She slid across the seat to get out the driver's side. There was a burbling sound, and she looked down at the dark water slipping past. Nothing was simple today. Today? Was it still today, or had tomorrow arrived by now? Glenn freed herself from the weight of the holster, and sank her ankles into the cold water. It was dark behind. Ahead was a glow and, in it, the silhouette of a man.

  Geoff was still wearing her coat. He was staring ahead. Did he have the gun? Glenn dragged her feet closer, each sneaker containing a concrete sock. She was two yards from him when he screwed his head in her direction.

  "You still alive?"

  "Better luck next time," she said. "I want my coat back."

  "I've grown attached to it," he said, spreading it open. "Fits me, don't you think?"

  She took another step forward. "I want my coat back."

  "So predictable. I knew the first thing you'd do was try to boss me around."

  "Yeah, you shoulda killed me when you had the chance."

  He shook his head, and smiled sadly. "You're one of a kind, that's for sure. Is it any wonder I love you?"

  She chewed on her lip. "Is that what the young folk are calling it these days? Well, who am I to let a little thing like strangulation stand in the way of true love?"

&nbs
p; "I didn't strangle you. I just suffocated you a little until you passed out."

  "Oh, well then, I stand corrected. Let the love-fest begin."

  "Remember, you slugged me first. Don't take it so personally. Any more than I take what you did personally. Tempers flare, emotions run high, people slap people. Doesn't mean they don't love ‘em."

  "Ah, the Marquis de Sade school of romance. I remember it well."

  Geoff laughed. "I’ll never do anything like that ever again. Promise. But, I couldn’t very well let you leap from the car. After everything you said, I didn’t know what to do. Then, you got that look on your face like a deer caught in the headlights, and I didn’t know which way you were going to bounce. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but all I could think of off the top of my head was to put you out of commission until I could find some place safe to park the car. Heaven knows, reasoning with you never works. But, I am sorry. Forgive me?"

  He opened his arms for her, and she instinctively went to him.

  "I'm sorry, too. About your brother…about everything."

  He surrounded her with the fabric of her own coat. "You never apologized to me before."

  "I've never been wrong before."

  He laughed again. The rich warm tone of it resonated under her cheek. Then, he put his face next to hers.

  "I just needed some time alone. I’m okay now."

  "You aren't mad about Bobby?"

  "Sure, I am. Furious, in fact. But, not at you. You're as much a victim as my brother was. I'm surprised you haven't figured that out yet."

  "No, I’m a victim of my own greed for fame. I should have been smarter, asked more questions. My gut was trying to warn me, but my ambition wouldn't listen. I had something to prove, and that's all that mattered. I’m truly sorry."

  "Wow, another sorry," he said.

  "You're a bad influence on me. What’s that sound?"

  "I think it’s a helicopter. Drove down the bank into the culvert. Guys that make beer runs to the District do this to outsmart the cops."

  "You really do have a criminal mind, don't you?" she said.

  "That’s Sligo Creek Parkway up there. We could hike up, and take a back street to the house. We can probably make it without being spotted."

 

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