Precipice

by J. Robert Kinney

  “I knew he was involved as well.” Will swallowed hard, his face ashen. “He tried to escape and paid with his life.”

  “That he did, God rest his soul.”

  “I received a call the day I turned eighteen and took control of the company. They wanted to make sure this ‘arrangement’ would continue.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I didn’t know any better. I had no idea what this group was, and to be honest, I wasn’t concerned with the company’s finances. I was naïve, not a real businessman. I never wanted to be one, but I trusted my father, so I said ‘sure’ and left it at that. The finances weren’t my problem. I hired people to deal with that for me. It wasn’t until six years later that I began to pay closer attention.”

  Will’s voice cracked as the tears he’d been holding back started to seep out. Artie stood and disappeared into another room. A minute later, he returned holding a box of tissues.

  “Thanks,” Will mumbled, taking a handful and using them to blow his nose and wipe away the tears.

  “You’re very welcome, son. You don’t have to continue. I can guess the rest.”

  Will blew his nose loudly. “It’s okay. I need to say it.” Sniffling, he continued. “I didn’t believe their threats, and I called their bluff. I thought I was untouchable.”

  “I -” Another pause. The tears flowed freely now. “I made a mistake and Allie paid for it. And now they’re after me too.”

  “How do you know?”

  “One showed up at my house yesterday. That’s what happened with Zach. I bolted as soon as I could get away.”

  “What about Miles? You still have him, right?”

  Will gasped for the breath to form an answer. “I---don’t know…” He hadn’t considered Miles during his frantic escape. “What if they…killed him?”

  “I’m sure he’s fine. Let’s get you calmed down and then we’ll figure something out. I might have an idea.” Artie plucked the used tissues from Will’s hand and dropped them in the trash. This was why Will had always admired the man. He wasn’t like the other businessmen, ruthless and self-centered. He was the only truly religious influence in Will’s youth—Adair was a devout Christian—with a kind bone or two in his body and a soft spot for his best friend’s son. Maybe he’d be able to help after all.

  “We’ll need to hurry though. It won’t be too long before they think to look for you here.”

  Chapter 9

  “There we go. You’re all set now.” Artie stood back and eyeballed the man standing before him. Will caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass door of a cabinet. He was unrecognizable. Cleaned up, in fresh clothes, and with his trademark long hair shorn to the scalp, he looked like a brand new man.

  “There’s a man one town over, in Red Hill. He’ll make you disappear. New name, ID, everything. Just tell him Arthur sent you.” Artie handed Will a small scrap of paper with a single name and address as they hurried down the hallway to the front door. It was vital he get moving again. He had already spent longer here than he’d intended.

  “Isn’t that…illegal?” Will worried about crossing to the wrong side of the law again.

  “It is,” Artie grimaced. “And that means it’s a less than ideal solution. I wish we could avoid it, but my chief priority is keeping you safe. We’ll deal with the rest after you’re out of harm’s way.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “Back from my army days. I haven’t spoken to him in a long time, but I’d trust him with my life.” His confidence was reassuring.

  “Thank you, truly. For everything.”

  “Of course, Will. Anything.”

  “I’m so sorry for putting you in this danger. If I can ever do anything for you…”

  “Not to worry. You’re ol’ William’s son. I’d never turn away the son of an old friend and neither would Eddie.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small roll of bills. “Here, this should be enough to get you to his house and cover any expenses there.”

  “You don’t have to…”

  “Nonsense. You obviously don’t have any money on you, and I’m sure they’re already watching your bank accounts. You need a little cash to get by until the situation cools down a bit.”

  “I don’t know what to say…” Will trailed off. The generosity of this man humbled him. He held several hundred dollars rolled into a ball in his hand. As he tucked it into the inside pocket of his coat, he made a mental note to find a way to repay this man.

  “You don’t have to say anything.” Artie opened a small drawer in a nearby table and fiddled around inside the compartment. “Here, take this too.”

  He handed Will a small, crudely carved wooden cross. It was set on a black string, forming a necklace. “What is it?”

  “Something I picked up years ago in Israel. It’s real olive wood, from Bethlehem,” he explained. “I know it’s just a necklace, but take it with you anyway. Maybe it’ll be a reminder of what’s truly important and help you find comfort. Just remember…no matter how lost you may feel, you’re never, ever alone. God is always with you.” He paused before quoting a Psalm, “He’s our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.”

  “Thanks, Artie.” Will gently slipped the corded cross around his neck. On occasion, Allie had persuaded him to come to church with her over the years, but he never felt particularly religious—not since he was a child—and certainly not since her death. Still, he appreciated the gesture.

  Belief in Jesus was an integral part of Artie’s life and Will respected that about him. Besides, he could use all the help he could get. If Jesus decided to chip in some assistance…well, he just might reconsider the whole faith thing. “If I make it through this, I promise I’ll pay you back…for everything.”

  “I know you will. Just get out of here before they find you.” Artie waved a hand, gesturing toward the door. “Oh, and Will? When this is all over and you’re safe again, I expect you to come clean to the authorities. Hiding is only a temporary solution. It may have been accidental—and I’m sure they’ll understand—but funding arms dealers is still illegal. You need to own your mistakes. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “Yes, sir,” Will smiled at the directive. Artie’s faith would never allow him to send Will out the door without some sort of lesson. “Thank you…”

  “And then you’re coming with me to church too. We need to work on filling that hole in your heart.” He smiled. “Now go!” Artie directed Will with a hand on his shoulder; he was nearly shoving him now.

  Glancing back one last time, he gave Artie a nod, and took off at a light jog toward the morning shadows along the edge of the road. The sun, peeking over the treetops, beat down on the dew-laden grass, evaporating the moisture as its rays crept across the ground.

  Arthur Adair remained in the doorway for another minute, watching Will run off until he disappeared into the shadows. Frowning, he slowly shut the door behind him. There was going to be no more sleep this morning, so he grabbed his Bible and sat down to read. As he did, he whispered a quick prayer.

  “Jesus, watch over that boy…Protect him, keep him safe. Reveal yourself to him so that he might know Your love and Your might. Lord, please help him.”

  ***

  Dominic and Shannon arrived at their stakeout early the next morning, armed with a box of donuts and some gas station coffee from a local pump. They hoped the artificial sugar and caffeine would keep them awake and alert until their bodies’ natural clocks kicked in. The streets were empty as they pulled into their space down the street from the target location.

  One lone car sat in the alley next to the café—probably belonging to the owner, inside preparing to open for the day. The rest of the street appeared dead.

  The sun still hung low enough in the eastern sky to create a reddish
glow on the horizon, but that wouldn’t last long. Soon it would rise above the buildings, its heat radiating down on the bustling street, with no clouds in the forecast to intercept and dampen its intense rays.

  “Hey Shannon. Do you mind if I ask a bit of a personal question?” Dominic disrupted the silence. He figured being trapped together in a car for the next few hours was as good a time as any to get to know his partner better. At least she wasn’t going to be able to escape this time.

  “Yes, I do.” Her curt reply and dark eyes cautioned him to back off, but he chose to ignore the flashing warning sign and forge ahead. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to crack through her outer wall of defense and begin to build a genuine relationship.

  “Why did you choose to join this department?”

  Shannon turned and glared at him. She paused, as if debating whether or not to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Finally, she pursed her lips and took a deep breath. “To make the world a safer place.”

  Dominic chuckled aloud. “That’s an answer you give your interviewer when you apply for the job. What’s the real reason?” Shannon turned away and gave no response. He waited a minute and then forged onward. “I mean, I only joined because of my father. It was expected I’d follow him into the business. No one asked what I wanted to do with my life. I never really had a choice.”

  He paused to gauge her reaction. Still no movement. “Don’t get me wrong…I love what I do. And it’s grown on me since that first day. But I still would’ve appreciated a choice. Who knows where I’d have landed if not for ‘dad’s legacy’ at SISA? I could be anything. Doctor, lawyer, businessman, maybe even a computer programmer for a software firm. Instead, I ended up here, doing intel for the government…all because of genetics and parentage.”

  He glanced over at Shannon again, but she stared out the window, ignoring him. Frustrated, he turned away. Dropping his shoulders with a sigh, he shrugged and took a big bite out of one of the donuts. Cream-filled, his favorite. He decided to abandon the subject for now and focus on the mission. If she didn’t want to talk, he couldn’t make her and the last thing he wanted was to push her away.

  He let his eyes wander down the street to Sasori again. Still deserted. They parked far enough away to not arouse suspicions, and used binoculars for most of their observation. No one knew of their presence, but you could never be too careful and in a case of this magnitude, they took every possible precaution.

  Two more hours passed before either uttered a word. In that time, there had been zero activity at Sasori, though foot traffic on the street had intensified as the sun rose higher in the sky.

  The first sign of any life was the appearance of the same elderly man from the previous day. He showed up out of nowhere and sat in the same location, near the café’s entrance. For the moment, he sat, watching the passing pedestrians, but a stack of papers and a cup of coffee on the small table kept him busy. Clad in a similar Hawaiian shirt and large, dark sunglasses, but the top of his head remained bare today.

  “I’m gonna move in for a closer look, go get a drink or snack from that café. Maybe I’ll catch a glimpse of those papers.” Dominic moved to exit the car, but Shannon grabbed his arm. “Stop. It’s too dangerous. You were Amadi’s friend. You two worked cases together. I’m sure they’d recognize you.”

  “Oh come on. Nothing’s gonna happen and we don’t know what’s on those papers. They might be important. Besides, I’m thirsty. I want a coke.”

  “Absolutely not. Too risky.”

  “We can’t just sit here all day. We need some action.”

  “Fine. I’ll go then. We can’t risk them recognizing you.” She put down her puzzle and binoculars before opening the door. Stepping out of the car, she paused to examine herself in its mirrored rear window. “You stay here. Keep an eye on things.” She tapped her ear, indicating the hidden listening device there. “If you see anything suspicious, let me know.”

  “Shannon, you don’t need to do this. You were right. It’s risky.” His tune changed now that the tables had turned.

  “Don’t be an idiot. It’s only risky for you. They don’t know me. I’ll be right back with your drink.”

  “Be careful,” Dominic called out, but Shannon didn’t acknowledge him, already focused on the task at hand. She turned away and closed the door. Pausing to adjust her sunglasses, she spun on her heel and sauntered down the street.

  Chapter 10

  Dominic watched Shannon cross the lot and head down the sidewalk toward the café. She turned into the small patio outside the restaurant and passed within feet of the elderly lookout, who neither glanced up, nor showed any sign he noticed her presence.

  She disappeared inside and after a couple minutes, re-emerged with two bottles in hand. She again passed the old man, this time pausing at the table. She said something he couldn’t make out over the earpiece and after a second, continued toward the car, this time with the man’s eyes admiring her in the same way Dominic had minutes earlier.

  She slid smoothly into the passenger seat and handed one of the Coke bottles to Dominic. “Here,” she tipped her bottle toward his. “It’s gonna be a long day.”

  “What’d you find out?”

  “It’s a nice little mom and pop establishment. Very charming. The man who got our drinks even gave me a discount.” She paused. “Though I assume that wasn’t what you were asking?” She grinned and winked. The sullen attitude from earlier seemed to have vanished with her little field trip. Shrugging, she replied, “Very little. I couldn’t get a good look at the papers.”

  “What’d you say to him? The mic didn’t pick it up.”

  “Just a ‘hello,’ nothing else. He barely even responded. I believe he sort of grunted.” Her imitation of the guttural utterance made Dominic chuckle.

  “I doubt he gets much attention from girls like you.” This remark earned him a slight glare, but a slight smile as she turned away told him she appreciated the compliment. “He watched you all the way to the car though. We need to take it for a spin around the block and find a new parking spot, so he doesn’t get suspicious as to why you never leave.”

  “Sounds good.” She reached over and flicked on the radio. Dominic’s oldies station came alive as a classic from the Beach Boys blared from his car’s speakers. She shook her hair, slipped on a pair of sunglasses, and leaned back, smiling as they edged out of the lot.

  ***

  Krieger sat quietly in his living room, shades drawn and lights off, making it seem much later in the day. He’d been right about that museum director, Braxton; the obituary appeared in that day’s paper. The man was dim-witted and naïve. Krieger tried to warn him and encourage a trip out of town, but the man failed to heed his advice.

  Death had never been an issue for Krieger and taking the lives of others hadn’t bothered him since his first tour overseas. It was, after all, his job for many years. Desensitization came with the territory.

  Yet, this death felt different. Krieger had witnessed war casualties, executions, deaths where the victims wholeheartedly deserved to lose their lives. But this death, it wasn’t part of the pattern. Braxton was an innocent bystander, caught in over his head. Ian Braxton’s death never should have happened. He wasn’t meant to be there that night.

  But Ian stayed late before heading home to say hello to his former employee. The man probably died long ago at the hands of the perps, his identity stolen to gain Braxton’s trust. And poor Ian bit hard, swallowing their fable hook, line, and sinker.

  The man’s naivety resulted in the premature ending of two lives, his janitor and ultimately himself. Though positive Ian’s death was out of his control, Michael still shouldered the responsibility for not offering more assistance. Throughout his long military career, only once before had an innocent died because of him.

  It was a young child, maybe 5 or 6. The boy’s father became involved in a resistance movement in the remote regions of a third-world country and got himself killed. The boy’s m
other raised him until she passed away from disease. The orphan, Manuel, was left in the care of Michael’s unit until they could get him to an orphanage where he’d be adopted. One night, Michael let down his guard while playing cards with the guys. He lost sight of little Manny, who wandered outside alone.

  While playing in the field, he came across a strange object embedded in the grass. The huge boom and shockwave from a partially buried landmine knocked the card players out of their chairs. Devastated, Krieger never forgave himself. Since retirement, he’d succeeded in blocking most of the bleak memory from his consciousness, but an intertwined vein of guilt and anger persisted in the deepest halls and recesses of his mind.

  The death of Braxton hit harder than expected. In many ways, Ian resembled this little child and Krieger couldn’t help but feel those sensations of guilt arise once again.

  Braxton had been naïve and innocent, caught in games beyond his understanding. He made the mistake of playing with deadly explosives and they blew up in his face. Taking a sizeable gulp from the glass of Scotch whisky that sat in front of him, Krieger swore. Loudly.

  Krieger grimaced at the burning sensation of another swig. “No way I’m gonna let this happen to me again,” he muttered. Another death on his conscience might be the final straw to drive him to an early grave. He growled, vowing to avenge Braxton’s death, hoping it would help atone for both. It would be the act of penance which allowed him rest.

  He threw back the final gulp, emptying the glass and swearing again as the alcohol singed his throat. Hoisting himself to his feet, Krieger staggered toward the bedroom.

  Silently wishing for more liquor, he swore one last time, this time barely above a whisper. No amount of alcohol would help. But maybe something else could.

  ***

  Mornings were not Jacob Sloan’s favorite things. In fact, he downright despised them. It typically required a minimum of three cups of coffee to get going in the morning, and today just might be a four cup day. Some days, it was a struggle simply getting out of bed. Today was Randal and Faye’s second day on the Sasori stakeout. Despite their relative inexperience and tendency to make rash decisions, he trusted them to do a solid job and with any luck, they’d unearth something invaluable.