“What are we going to chase them in, Pam? Your car is still in Leesburg.”
“The Land Rover runs fine, and the keys are in the kitchen. We will use that.”
The prospect of a firefight in the house and perhaps outside as well did not appeal to Tim. He had only been in one firefight, which had been several years ago in Central America. Tim had been working with some revolutionaries that the US was backing when they were attacked by government troops. Tim recalled firing an AK47 in the same direction that everyone else was firing, but he had no clue if he ever hit anyone. He and the other CIA types were quickly evacuated.
Now, Tim found himself wondering what happened to those guerrilla fighters. Maybe they were running the country now, but who knew? Like in many other professions, Tim had developed a detachment from the people he was sent in to help.
“So, what time should we do this, Pam?”
“I’m thinking about 6 a.m. Everyone should still be asleep, and it will take them 30 to 40 seconds to figure out what’s going on. That should give us time to get to the gun safe. The weapons are all unloaded, so we’re going to have to load and take cover. Realistically, that is going to take maybe a minute, so it will be tight.”
Realistically. Tim thought about what that implied. Realistically, neither Pam nor Tim were in top shape, and by the time they fumbled with the gun safe lock, removed the desired weapons, found the correct ammunition, loaded that ammunition, and then found a place to hide...well, they would be lucky to do all of that within 5 minutes. Meanwhile, Toby and whoever else was around would be standing on the basement steps with their weapons trained on both Pam and Tim.
Some plan, Tim thought. Unfortunately, it was the only one that they had. They would need luck, a lot of it.
“What time is it, Tim?”
“It’s almost 11.”
“Okay. Is there any alarm clock we can set so you and I don’t oversleep?”
That was a good question. Both of their iPhones had of course been taken away, and Sebastian had turned off or disabled all of the computers and phones in the safe room. Some safe room, Tim thought to himself, but he knew it wasn’t designed to stop somebody from disabling it beforehand. The fact that the room had been turned into a prison cell was beyond ironic, though.
“I think my watch has an alarm feature,” he offered. “I just need to figure out how it works.”
Tim’s watch was complicated, to the point that he could never remember how to set it ahead for Daylight Saving Time without first consulting the directions. There were three buttons on the watch that needed to be pressed in some kind of sequence, and Tim never could recall how it worked. This caused him a certain amount of frustration, to the point where he didn’t even want to wear a watch in the first place. However, he had always worn one, and he was glad that he had one now.
“Okay, I think I have it set. I just hope it’s loud enough for me to hear it.”
“Fine,” Pam replied, now sounding like she was ready to fall asleep. “Do you mind if I put my head on you, Tim?”
“No, go ahead.”
She did so, and they were quiet for a few minutes until Pam broke the silence again. “Tim?” she asked drowsily.
“Yeah, Pam.”
“Tim, what’s the PIN number?”
“5456,” Tim whispered.
“5456? I thought we used that.”
“That’s the PIN number, Pam. It came back to me when I got in a cab at BWI.”
“When you came home from the Dominican Republic?”
“Yes. All of the treatments used to restore my memory actually did work. It just took a little more time.”
“What about Sebastian? Now tell me. Did you really not know who he was?”
“I knew who Sebastian was when I first saw him in Baltimore. But no, not in Santa Domingo. He did a good job of fooling me, but the day he drove up, yeah, I knew who he was. But remember, I thought he was there to kill me.”
“Tim, we never wanted to kill you. At least, I never wanted to kill you. But I do want that money.”
“What are you planning to do with all that money, Pam?”
“I plan on moving to Tahiti or perhaps Bali and living like a queen.”
“What about becoming a Chief of Station somewhere in Europe? Was that all BS, Pam?”
“That train left the station back in 2012. This is as far as I’m going to get in the Agency,” Pam said, referring to her job managing the safe house.
“And Sebastian, why does he need all this money?”
“I believe that Sebastian is in serious debt. He has the wife and kids and the house in Bethesda. I know his wife expects all of their children to attend Ivy League universities, which will cost a small fortune in itself.”
Tim recalled Sebastian telling him that his wife did not know what he really did for a living. “I guess his wife assumes Sebastian is rich,” he said.
“She does, and if he gets that eighty million, then I guess he will be; but it’s really mine. I set it all up,” Pam replied, giving no indication that she would offer Sebastian any kind of deal to split the money.
Tim thought that he probably knew where all of this money had come from, but he’d forgotten or erased the knowledge from his memory. If Tim’s amnesia was truly self-inflicted, then it was perhaps the dumbest thing he’d ever done in his life. Losing your memory was extremely inconvenient. Yet, Tim also knew that it was exactly the sort of thing he would think of trying.
Tim had been haunted for most of his life by the things he had tried and failed, and he often fantasized about just forgetting everything and starting over fresh. Tim’s work as an interrogator gave him a perspective on how memories were formed and recalled, but he was especially interested in how events were often forgotten. What happened to these memories? Could memories be completely erased, or were they still someplace in the gray matter? Tim was particularly interested in amnesia and retrograde amnesia, where traumatic events or injuries could result is severe memory loss. At one time, Tim had convinced himself that a type of retrograde amnesia could be drug-induced and had even thought about what drugs could possibly be used to achieve such a state.
But the big question remained: was Tim really stupid enough to try it on himself, or had Pam and Sebastian cooked it up? Tim had decided that it was still Pam and Sebastian. Once again, they were lying to him, and from now on Tim would just have to assume that anything either Pam or Sebastian told him was probably a lie.
Tim now found himself falling asleep with his wife, the woman he had loved but could never trust, nestled against his chest and shoulder. Pam moved her hand down between Tim’s legs. Before either of them knew it, they had removed each other’s clothes and lay naked side by side, holding hands. Pam then climbed on top of Tim and looked into his blue eyes.
“You know I love you Tim. But...”
“There does always seems to be a ‘but’ in our conversations, doesn’t there?” Tim remarked.
“Yes, there does.”
“You do know that Sebastian may be watching us, Pam.”
“I don’t care. I just want you inside of me one more time.”
Tim did not really know what Pam meant by “one more time,” but he decided to let the question go. Tim was inside of her now, and he watched Pam’s face as her hips moved up and down. Her eyes were closed, and Pam seemed to be fantasizing about something or someone.
Tim wondered if it could possibly be him, but he doubted he was worthy to be anyone’s fantasy. Men really never knew what women were thinking, did they? That was, of course, a rhetorical question. No, men had no clue.
Tim Hall closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment. After all, it was his only choice.
Chapter 30
Beep, beep beep, beep.
Tim had been dreaming, but his watch alarm interrupted it. He opened his eyes and immediately had a feeling of dread, the type of feeling that someone gets when anticipating a very unpleasant or scary experience.
Tim recalled during s
ome training class how one should not confuse the feelings of dread with the feeling of excitement. Dread and excitement were very closely related, and Tim understood that certain individuals actually became addicted to these kinds of feelings if they found a reward for them at some point later on. Perhaps this was what gambling addiction was about. Tim was not sure. All he knew was that he hated the feeling.
Tim turned off his watch alarm and nudged Pam, who was still resting against his shoulder. After their lovemaking, both had taken cover under a blanket. “Wake up. It’s game time,” he said, not really understanding why he’d used a sports metaphor.
Tim looked up at the smoke detector and how it appeared to be wired into the house’s circuits. Tim hoped that when Sebastian was disabling the communications in the safe room, he hadn’t also disabled the fire alarm—but what did they have to lose?
“I would kill for a cup of coffee,” Pam grunted as she woke up.
Even if making coffee were possible, it would not be a good idea, since it might alert others to what Pam and Tim were doing. “I saw some cans of Diet Coke in the mini,” Tim offered. “One of those should give you a caffeine fix.”
Pam walked over to the mini fridge and grabbed a can. “Mm, nice and cold,” she remarked, offering some to Tim.
“Yeah, that’s good,” Tim replied. It had been a long time since he’d had a Coke. He had given them up because he believed that they were making him fat. “My god, vanity is a real luxury,” he mumbled.
“I guess, Tim,” Pam replied, not knowing what her husband was talking about.
“So, are you ready to do this?” Tim asked.
“Yes, I’m ready,” Pam replied.
“And we know what we’re doing?”
“Well, I don’t know if we know what we’re doing—but I know what we need to do,” Pam answered with a smile.
Pam had left a couple of lighters on the desk along with some paper. Both Pam and Tim realized the value of having a cigarette lighter around, since you never knew when you might need some fire and absolutely no one carried matches any more. Now, Pam walked to the door of the safe room and placed her hands on it. Meanwhile, Tim lit the piece of paper and waved it under the smoke detector.
It did not take long for the alarm to respond. A high-pitched squeal sounded that almost made Tim nauseous. He jumped off the top bunk and toward the door.
There was a clunking sound, and Tim and Pam pushed the door open to find Toby sitting across the room. He had apparently been asleep but was quickly waking up. A body that appeared to be Mary Ann was lying at Toby’s feet, her hands and feet bound with duct tape.
Tim jumped over Mary Ann and rammed into Toby, who was rising from his chair. This resulted in Toby, Tim, and the chair toppling over. Tim was now on top of Toby, and he threw a punch that landed on the side of Toby’s skull.
Tim’s punch did little to subdue the man, who grabbed Tim on both sides of his chest and threw him to one side. Tim landed on his left shoulder and looked back to Pam, who was now at the gun safe. Toby had lost the M16 that had been resting on his lap. As he bent down to get it, Tim jumped on Toby’s back and wrapped his forearm around Toby’s neck, trying to choke him—but the big man just wouldn’t go down.
Toby was actually able to flip Tim off his back and onto the granite table. He looked to be deciding what to do next with Tim when the basement door opened, and Darrel appeared on the stairs.
Darrel looked truly confused as he saw Tim flat on his back, Mary Ann tied up on the floor, Pam in the corner holding a shotgun, and Toby holding an M16. Darrel was turning to Pam as to ask what to do when Toby shot him in his abdomen. Darrel dropped his weapon, grabbed his stomach, and fell down the stairs. Meanwhile, Tim rolled off the worktable and onto the floor. Tim looked at Pam, who had leveled the shotgun at Toby but had not yet fired. Tim turned to see Toby using the unconscious Mary Ann as a shield. He slowly walked up the stairs with Mary Ann in one hand while still holding the M16 in the other. The rifle was pointed at Pam, and Tim was convinced that Toby planned on shooting her very soon.
Darrel had dropped his Glock as he fell down the stairs, and the pistol had bounced about one foot away from Tim. Tim grabbed the pistol and yelled, “Hey numb nuts!” at Toby.
He fired.
The bullet hit the side of one of the steps and splintered the wood, which seemed to fly everywhere. Toby turned and fired a burst at Tim. The bullets bounced off of the granite tabletop, falling harmlessly around the room.
When Tim looked up once again, Toby was gone.
Tim looked at Pam as he walked over to check on Darrel. “Are you okay?” he asked her.
“Yeah, fine. How is Darrel?”
“Not good. It appears he’s going into shock.”
“Wait and watch that door,” Pam ordered as she went back into the safe room and returned with a blanket and a first aid kit. “Do you remember if it’s okay to administer morphine for stomach wounds, Tim?”
“Yeah, I think that’s okay,” Tim said as he watched Pam give Darrel an injection.
Meanwhile, they heard movement on the first floor and what sounded like the front door opening. “Sounds like people are leaving,” Tim observed.
Pam took a marker and drew a large M on Darrel’s forehead, signifying that he had been given morphine.
“I don’t know if the kids know what the big M means, Pam, but they should get the idea if you leave the first aid kit out here.”
“Yeah, I hope so. Do you still have Darrel’s gun?”
Tim held up Darrel’s Glock to show Pam.
“Okay, Tim. Here, you take the shotgun. I have what I need. We’ve got to go and try and catch up with Sebastian and Toby. We have to finish this.”
Pam had treated Darrel for shock as best as she knew how, so now she stood up to leave. “Darrel, I’m sorry. I should have told you what was going on. I hope you can forgive me,” she murmured. Pam then pushed open the basement door with the barrel of her Glock 19 9mm and motioned for Tim to follow her up the stairs to the first floor.
The house appeared to be empty, but the fire alarm was still sounding. “Tim? Do you have any idea how long we’ve been out of the safe room?”
Tim looked at his watch. “Over ten minutes, but less than fifteen.”
“Okay,” Pam said.
She stepped out into the hallway and yelled, “United States Marshal Service. You are on United States Government property! Make yourself known.”
If there was anyone left in the house, they did not make themselves known.
“Why do all of that, Pam?” Tim wanted to know.
“It’s possible that there are some contractors still here, and god knows what Sebastian told them. God only knows what Sebastian told Darrel. Anyhow, let’s go—we might still be able to catch up to them.”
Tim and Pam started toward the kitchen, where Pam opened a drawer and produced a set of keys while Tim looked out at the driveway. The plumbing van was still there, but not Sebastian’s SUV.
“We need to check out the van, Tim. Can you do that while I start the Land Rover?”
Pam and Tim left the safe house by way of the kitchen door. The March air was colder than they had expected, but after a night in the safe room, it felt refreshing. Pam walked over to the Land Rover while Tim tried the doors to the plumbing van. All of the doors were locked, but Tim felt that the inside of the van needed to be checked in case Toby had dumped Mary Ann in it. He began to beat the passenger side window with the butt of the shotgun, but it didn’t break. Tim next placed the barrel of the shotgun directly on the window and fired. The window shattered, setting off an alarm.
“Wonderful,” Tim said out loud as he opened the door. Nothing; they must have taken Mary Ann with them.
At that point, Pam pulled up in the Land Rover, but stopped at the house’s front door. She got out and stuck a post-it note on the door, then turned to Tim. “Anything?”
“Nothing,” Tim replied.
“Then let’s go!�
�
As Tim climbed into the passenger side of the Land Rover, he could hear sirens from somewhere down the road. That must be the Loudoun County Fire Department getting close. Pam reentered the driver’s side, threw the Land Rover into gear, and headed down the driveway.
“Put your seat belt on,” Pam told Tim as they bounced up and down. The suspension on the Land Rover was much tighter than Pam’s Mercedes.
“What did that note say, Pam? The one that you stuck to the door?” Tim wanted to know.
“It just said ‘victim in basement with gunshot wound to abdomen.’ I just wanted to try and give Darrel a fighting chance.”
Pam did seem truly upset that Darrel had caught a bullet in his gut. The paramedics might be able to save him if they got to him in time. Tim wondered why Darrel was not wearing a vest as usual and thought that perhaps he’d walked into the fight when he was just coming on duty.
Pam had now reached the end of the driveway and Lovettsville Road, where she turned right and headed to US Route 15. As she drove closer, they saw a line of cars at the stop sign. Beyond that was a line of cars backed up at the bridge that headed north across the Potomac River and into the state of Maryland. Sebastian’s Mercedes SUV was the second vehicle at the stop sign attempting to turn left.
To confuse matters even more, a fire engine responding to the Safe House alarm was coming down Route 15 heading north but driving in the southbound lane in order to get around traffic. The siren and air horn from the fire engine were both blaring. It was able to make the left turn from US 15 to Lovettsville Road, a medic unit ambulance and some type of supervisor driving a Chevy Suburban soon following. After them came two marked Loudoun County Sheriff units and one Virginia State Police unit.
“Well, the gang’s all here,” Pam said. “And there will be more, especially when they find a victim.”
One of the cars at the stop sign was able to make the left turn onto US Route 15, and now Sebastian’s SUV was first in line. Then Sebastian’s turn signal went from blinking left to blinking right as Sebastian turned and headed south to Leesburg.
“Okay, here we go,” Pam declared as she turned into the other lane of the narrow Lovettsville Road in order to go around the four cars in front of her. Pam leaned on her car horn and flashed her lights on and off as she was doing this. Meanwhile, yet another Loudoun County marked Sheriff’s unit was about to make a left hand turn off of US Route 15 but stopped in the middle of the intersection and let Pam pass. Pam waved at the officer as she passed him, and Tim was convinced that the cop would follow the Land Rover because of Pam’s blatant traffic violation.
The Adults in the Room Page 23