by R Arundel
Jim Bob is used to hauling anything. He doesn’t ask questions. Well, the only question he asks is “Is that cash,” or “Is that cash?”. “Cash works” is his motto. He is very reliable, so he has steady work. This job spooks him a little. He is getting paid too much to haul one guy. He must have done something really big. Jim Bob is smart enough to know that as long as he keeps doing minor “jobs” he will be fine. If he starts to do big things, he will get noticed and maybe earn another stay at the state penitentiary. This job could be dangerous. “Mo money, mo problems.” That’s why he brings Bean this time—Bean carries. He is lucky to get him on such short notice. Bean could have been on a fishing trip. He’s a survivalist and can live for weeks on end in the bush. Bean has some major fire power. There can be trouble this time. Jim Bob is ready.
Jim Bob and Bean do not read newspapers, or they would have been able to identify Matthew. His face is not disguised. But then again, Matthew hasn’t shaved in days and his beard is thick. He looks completely different.
Jim Bob now works a few jobs each month. This new business pays ten times what he used to get hauling soybeans. His new line of work is much more rewarding. He has a new pickup truck. His mortgage is all paid. Soon he will have enough to go legit. He is going to start a trucking company, hauling soybeans.
The trip settles into a routine and they all relax. They break for lunch and dinner. Breakfast is leftovers. Matthew eats by himself in the cargo hold. Bean is talkative and friendly. Jim Bob not so much.
“Truck stop serves good fixins. We’ll get you some dinner.” Bean spits out a large wad of dark brown tobacco.
Bean comes back and hands Matthew a large plastic bag. Matthew takes the bag and Bean locks the truck cargo hold. Matthew enjoys his dinner of french fries and beef stew. The gravy is as thick as glue.
Bean meets Jim Bob in the truck stop. Jim Bob rubs the edge of his mug as he finishes his beer.
“What do you make of this guy?” says Jim Bob.
“He’s running from somethin', that’s for sure,” says Bean.
“He’s not the muscle.”
“No way, I think he is the accountant or numbers man. Somethin’ like that.”
“He cheated some big mukka out of some money and now he needs to disappear?” says Jim Bob.
“Somethin' like that, I agree.”
Bean orders another beer from the waitress. She bends over to give him his order, then walks away.
“Nice cans.”
The two men drink and pass the night away.
Matthew finishes his meal. It feels like a ball of grease settles in his stomach. He hears a knock on the door and then it opens.
“How’s things going, fella?” says Jim Bob.
They never ask his name. They just call him fella.
“No problem, but I’m getting stir crazy. It’s hot in here.”
“Well, no need for that. Why don’t you go inside and get a beer?”
Bean chimes in, “Waitress’s got a great set of knockers.”
Matthew breathes in the night air. He looks at his watch. The cargo area is considerably hotter than the outside air. The temperature is seventy-five degrees.
Matthew says, “Guys, I need a key to be able to get out if I need to.”
Jim Bob reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and hands the spare set of keys to Matthew. “No problem, fella, just had to ask.”
“Thanks.”
Matthew goes into the diner and sits. The waitress approaches.
“Would you like to see a menu?” she asks.
“No, just some apple pie. With two scoops of vanilla.”
“Coffee?”
“Thanks, double milk, no sugar.”
“No problem.”
Within a short time, the waitress returns with his order. Matthew needs to take a break. He is getting a little unhinged. Stress kills—if he isn’t sharp for the next little while, he will make mistakes. He vows to enjoy the road trip with Jim Bob and Bean. They are traveling through beautiful countryside. Maybe he’ll sit up front, decompress.
Initially, Jim Bob refuses to allow fella to sit up front. What if a cop stops them? Jim Bob changes his mind only after Matthew reminds him who pays his fee.
The front cab is spacious. Even though they sit side-by-side, the three of them are surprisingly comfortable. Bean sits in the middle. He wears a heavy citrus-scented cologne that Matthew learns to like after a while.
Matthew asks, “You guys like any sports?”
Bean says, “We follow basketball, Jim Bob was quite the man in his day.”
“I was a good baller. Played for hours as a kid.”
Matthew asks, “What position did you play?”
“One.”
“Point guard, you must have been smart, good ball handler.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bean says, “Best I ever saw. He saw the floor. He saw everything, man.”
Classic rock plays on the radio. The green countryside rolls by.
Matthew asks, “You never thought of college ball?”
“Thought of it. That was my dream. I was going to college, then the pros.”
“Didn’t make it?”
“Worse, I did make it.”
Bean adds, “Old man Coutts was a mean dog with his boys.”
Jim Bob says, “I worked, saved for my college fees. Had decent grades. I got accepted. Division one, state college.”
“What happened?”
Jim Bob, “My old man wouldn’t let me go.”
“You would have been of age—you just sign and leave home.”
“My ma was good to me. She wanted something better for herself, but it didn’t work out. My old man used to beat on her. If I’d disobeyed him, he would’ve beat her bad, and often. I couldn’t do that to my ma. I had to stay to protect her.”
“He didn’t like basketball?”
“Said a man’s gotta know his place.”
Bean tries to be supportive. “You used to practice for hours. You were real good.”
“He would come home from laboring and say something like ‘what you playin' at boy?’ He never went to any of my games.”
Bean says, “Spite.”
“He just couldn’t see beyond himself.”
“He was a mean buzzard.”
“He was a day laborer. He worked hard, played harder. Came home, had a few cold ones, and then did it all over again.”
Matthew asks, “You couldn’t convince him to let you go?”
“No. I begged. Mother begged.”
“He wouldn’t let him go. He was a nasty one.”
“’You’re a day laborer and nothing else,’ that’s what he said.”
“So what happened?”
“Nothing. I finished high school, joined my dad. Two years later he was dead. Heart attack.”
“Why didn’t you try college then?”
“By that time I had a wife, a kid, and another on the way.” Jim Bob stares out the window. The hills roll by.
Bean breaks the silence an hour later. “There’s a fella on a blue motorcycle. He passed us, then stopped. He took out some binoculars, then made a call. Now he’s heading back our way.”
Jim Bob says, “I saw him too. There’s the rest stop up ahead. Let’s pull in.”
Sitting in the diner, they see the motorcyclist. Matthew, Jim Bob, and Bean sip their coffee. He is on his cell phone, looking at the truck license plate.
“Bean, you juiced?”
“Yes, sir. Locked and loaded.”
Jim Bob gets up and goes to the payphones at the back. He returns in ten minutes. “Police check point five miles ahead.”
***
The man in the black fedora rubs his chin vigorously. “I really need this job done.”
The man at the other end speaks in a slow, halting manner. “I’m busy.”
His big hands grip the phone awkwardly. The years of street fighting caused his fingers to swell like sausages; his knuckles are callouse
d and thick.
The man in the fedora replies, “I haven’t even told you the job.”
“My cousin on the West Coast called, said you had a job. He already turned you down.”
“He told me he was busy too.”
“I know, must be that time of year.”
The man in the fedora now plays with the brim of his hat.
“Kinda like Christmas, it’s the busy season for you goons?”
“Goons? My uncle was one of those goons. He got his throat cut by your surgeon. You said it was an easy job, just supervise some operatin’. So don’t call us goons—us goons died to keep you alive.”
The man in the fedora is apologetic. “I’m sorry for your loss. It was just supposed to be a transplant. MacAulay should have done it, no problem. I don’t know how it ended up so badly. Your man was not supposed to die. He had a Glock. I still don’t know how the surgeon was able to cut him like that.”
“T’anks for the apology, but my answer is still no.”
“You’ve never refused before. I’ll double your money.”
“I’m busy.”
“Okay, I can speak your language. I need you. Ten times your fee. I’ve always appreciated your top-quality work.”
The man’s thick hands cradle the phone. “Ten times?”
“Paid in full before the job.”
“Ten times. That’s real good money . . . but I must refuse.”
“Do you know how much money you’re turning down?”
“I’m gonna give it to you straight. You been good to me and my cousin over the many years.”
“Well, thanks. You guys work clean, no loose ends. You’re professionals.”
“I can’t take your job. Not for any money.”
“Why not?”
“We have friends. Friends in all the highest places. The recent murders are attractin’ a lot of attention. Serious attention.”
“No one knows who is behind this.”
“No, you’re right, we have friends spying on that too. But it’s too much what you did. It’s going to go sideways. We run a nice business. Those law enforcement types leave us be for the most part. We kill our own. We don’t go killing good decent people, people who matter.”
“I kill who I need to kill.”
“What you done is too much.”
“A man like you can never know my plan, it’s greatness.”
“A man like me knows when someone is just too crazy. We figured out who is behind this, and a man like me ain’t too bright. Not bright like a man like you. You’re going down, and you ain’t takin a man like me with you.”
“You’re scared.”
“Yeah, I’m scared. We helped you get that needle. You killed two people. Two completely innocent people. For what? You kill a transplant surgeon, his wife, a nurse. That’s just cracked, man. No one’s gonna help you now.”
“I’m offering ten times your fee.”
“Money ain’t much good in a six-foot cold cell. Or sitting in the electric chair.”
“Who can help me then?”
“To be honest wit’ you, no one on our level is going to help you. Not this time.”
“Give me a name.”
“You can try Mr. Page. Don’t tell him how you got his name.”
The phone goes silent. The man in the black fedora slams his phone down.
“Ignorant, short-sighted buffoons. Garbage of no vision. I will show them all.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jason is taking no chances this time. He has been outsmarted too many times by Matthew. This time he has a little trick of his own. A large and very visible police roadblock is indeed five miles ahead of Matthew. However, Jason and his two trusted associates are on a little used side road two miles before the roadblock. Jason figures the smugglers will know this area like the back of their hand. This little known road is the perfect detour to avoid the roadblock. Jason and his men will open fire as soon as they round the curve in the dirt road.
***
Bean asks, “Do you know for sure it’s for us?”
“Not for sure, but they are stopping all cars, asking for a man,” says Jim Bob.
“We have to assume it’s for me.”
“Fella, we need to know, are you on the run from the law or from other criminals?” says Jim Bob.
“Both.”
“Is it murder?”
“Yes, but I didn’t do it.”
Bean sighs. “Never met a murderer that did it.”
“I didn’t do it,” says Matthew.
“Sure, fella.”
“I didn’t!” says Matthew.
“Jim Bob, we’re now helpin’ a murderer. Aidin’ and abettin’. We could get the chair. Do we want this?”
Jim Bob, “Accessory to murder—if we’re caught, we’re going to jail for a long time.”
“I already have two strikes. Next one, it’s real life. I’m not never gettin’ out,” says Bean.
“I’ve done nothing. You need to believe me.”
Jim Bob and Bean look at each other.
They get into the truck and head down the road. Jim Bob remembers the dirt road. They’re lucky it’s before the detour.
***
Jason’s men see the truck turn onto the dirt road. They confirm a third man riding up front. Jason will finally get his man. His men are in position for the ambush. He has the element of surprise. They wait in the dense brush just beyond the curve.
Jim Bob has traveled this road many times, at all hours of the day and night. He is very tense. If he is caught with this guy, he is going to jail for a long time. Maybe he should have stuck to hauling soybeans.
The truck rumbles down the road. Alarm bells go off in his head. A few freshly broken branches on one side. Someone’s been by. They did a good job of trying to hide the tire tracks, but Jim Bob is sure. The truck approaches the curve.
Jason hears the vehicle approaching. He grips his pistol tighter. He is excited as he waits for the vehicle to round the curve.
After waiting several minutes, Jason suspects something is wrong. He and his men run around the corner. They spot Matthew, Jim Bob, and Bean running through the dense shrub. The truck is left running just before the curve.
Jason can clearly see Matthew. He opens fire. His men do the same. Jason’s men narrow the distance. Matthew is close behind Jim Bob. They approach a fifteen-foot cliff. Thick bushes lie below. The three jump. They get up and run into the trees.
Jason and his men follow right behind them. Matthew and Jim Bob are bruised and bloodied from the fall. Bean leads the way. He takes them deep into the woods. After a while they can no longer hear Jason barking orders. There is no more gunfire. They stop to have a rest.
Bean says, “They will bring the dogs and the heat detectors.”
Jason had already contacted the drone operator. The forest is too dense, and he lost them. It will take some time to get an infrared camera to detect body heat.
Jason pieces together much of the details. No doubt Jim Bob was paid to smuggle Matthew back into the United States. He is a petty criminal. The other man they were traveling with is not identified yet.
This terrain is rough. They have no supplies, no water. This is wild country, thick dense forest. They may not survive the night, but Jason is not going to take any chances.
Jason picks up his phone. “Bring in the dogs. Also bring in two sharpshooters.”
Jason will wait. They will begin an all-out manhunt when the men arrive. There is no chance to escape. Jason smiles.
***
Bean takes pride in being able to live off the land. He guides Matthew and Jim Bob to an isolated cave. It is very close to the initial ambush site. Bean waits to see which direction the search will go. Bean then takes them into the dense bush in the opposite direction. By midnight Matthew realizes they have escaped.
“What do we do now?”
Jim Bob says, “No worries.”
It is pitch black. There is no moon in t
he sky. Jim Bob pulls out his cell phone. In no time the group is in the back of a small van. When they finally drop Matthew off, they are all exhausted.
“As promised, I deliver on time,” says Jim Bob.
Matthew says, “Thanks, this was huge. You need to disappear for a while.”
Bean says, “No problem, fella. Maybe we’ll do a little campin’. A little huntin’, a little fishin’.”
“When this is over, I’ll send word. I’ll make it right,” says Matthew.
Jim Bob hands Matthew a piece of paper. “Here’s my cell. Remember no job’s too small. As long as the cash is right.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kofi’s eyes grow wide when Matthew recounts his surgery on Kevin Price. Liam listens carefully when he tells of the road trip with Jim Bob and Bean. Matthew is glad to be back. The familiar white lacquer and brushed aluminum edifice that is Alice is comforting.
Kofi asks, “Do we go to the current Secretary of Defense and tell him his predecessor was killed with a plan to transplant his face?”
Liam says, “What role did Quentin play in this? After all he gained the most from the death of George H. Brown.”
Matthew looks surprised. “You can’t believe he is involved?”
Liam says, “No, I don’t think he is. It seems clear the plan was to put a double in the Secretary of Defense office. He would be able to pass secrets on to a foreign government.”
Kofi says, “When his plan failed, did he just insert himself into the job? Is Quentin behind this whole game?”
Matthew says, “If that were the case, there would be no need to call attention to everything by continuing to kill.”
Kofi realizes Matthew is right. “I agree. The real question is: why are they still trying to kill Matthew? It made sense initially to kill the transplant team in the New York operating room. They could alert others to the plot, but they didn’t see the head. When you started to probe the case, it made sense to try to dissuade you. But the plot failed. Why keep hounding you?”
Matthew says, “That phase of the plot failed. They are using their backup plan. They obviously have something on the go.”