Of Kings And Pawns

by Michael Oshita

  Damn, this door is heavy, he thought as his muscles flexed again from lifting the metal hatch. A musty smell protruded from beneath the door. It made John’s eyes water and left a repugnant taste in his mouth, causing him to choke and gag. He quickly covered his nose and mouth with the collar of his shirt.

  He gazed back down the hole and shined his flashlight below. A set of wooden stairs was bolted to the wall that descended into darkness. How did Dad know about this? Why didn’t he tell me about this when he first found it and how did he know to dig at this exact spot? Referring back to his dream, he wondered, How did Mom know about this? When John reached the bottom of the stairs he couldn’t help but think, How long has this been down here? From the rust on the door and lack of air quality this metal container must’ve been down here longer than I’ve been alive.

  John shined the light above him. All around him was metal. He slowly turned around, trying to catch every inch of the container. The corners of the container had started to show signs of rust from the years of being buried underground. John continued to examine the container walls when he lowered his light to reveal the contents of the underground container. “Oh my…,” he whispered as he dropped his flashlight. He slowly bent down to pick it up, shining it back onto two wooden pallets resting in the middle of the container, stacked with money as high as him.

  He stared, open-mouthed at what stood before him; he couldn’t move. His mind couldn’t process what he was witnessing. He finally took a step forward and extended his arm out. Is this real? Before John touched the money, he stopped. An intuition fell over him; Dad is coming home. He panicked and ran back to the ladder. He scurried up the ladder and out of the hole. As he reached the top of the hole, a bright light broke through the crack of the barn. John came to a standstill. He slowly walked to the crack and peered through it. His stomach dropped as the source of the bright light was his dad’s car, which pulled up in front of the barn.

  John ran back toward the hole and pulled the ladder out. He ran the ladder back to where he found it and placed the flashlight back on the nail as he heard his dad’s car door slam shut. He then ran toward the back of the barn and hid behind a wooden crate.

  I’ve got to calm down and control my breathing. I can’t risk Dad catching me snooping around in here after he already told me to stay out. Albert walked into the barn and stood at the entrance. He scanned the entire barn before walking toward the ladder. Right as he reached the ladder, he spun around. This time his eyes were looking directly at the crate that John hid behind.

  Damn it. He saw me, John thought as he felt his stomach drop. He watched terrified as his dad stared right at the crate he hid behind. What am I going to do now? It’s too late to make a run for it. Damn it. He’s walking this way.

  Albert walked toward John. As he drew near, John curled himself into a ball, making himself as small as he possibly could. “There you are,” Albert said, causing John’s body to tense up in fright. “I thought this is where I left you.”

  After a few seconds, John broke out of the fetal position and gazed back over the crate. His dad had already walked back toward the ladder with a flashlight, pen, and notebook in hand. As Albert began his descent down into the container, he heard the hatch door swing open and slam shut. John slowly walked out from behind the crate and made his way across the barn floor. He gave one last look down the hole to see the old rusty door that held more money than he had ever seen in his life. A loud thud came from the hatch, causing the young detective to jump. He quickly turned and began running to his house, not stopping until he made it back to his room.

  Chapter 5

  “July 15, 1977

  10:25 hours: Albert enters barn

  John seen exiting barn. Running back to house.”

  Special Agent William Grady watched Albert from the front seat of his car. There was once a time the agent was in fit, athletic shape from his years of service in the police academy. Father Time has not been kind to the agent since he began monitoring the Davises’. Bags had permanently formed under his eyes from the long hours of work. His jet-black hair once was pristine and well kept. Now, it was dry, frizzy, and dull from the frequent, missed showers. His once impressive toned body had given way to a belly that hung over his pants and a hunched over posture from hours of sleepless sitting.

  For the past twelve years, this mysterious man had watched Albert, more famously known as Carmine Lazzero, former underboss of the Lazzero crime family. He was first hired by the FBI to work as a surveillance operator. In his time, there he showed potential in the area of foreseeing outcomes from subtle clues he picked up. He was then asked to join an experimental program, 5A12, also known as, Shadow Initiative. When one became a shadow, one is assigned a person to monitor. Whatever the government sees as a person of interest is who a “shadow” will follow. After Mr. Brown’s discovery, the Davises’ were moved to the top of the list people of interest, in hopes that they would lead them to the rest of the remaining safes.

  He had logged and kept records of the Davises’ every movement, from when they first entered the program in 1965. Of course, it was a lot easier back then. There was a six-man team that helped monitor each family member throughout the entire day. Now, it was a one-man operation, since more shadows were needed throughout the nation and Carmine hadn’t led them to any safes. The higher-ups felt that it was a waste of manpower to monitor “a man who is moving around aimlessly,” as they put it.

  This was the part of the job Grady despised, yet this was what the majority of his job consisted of: sitting, waiting, and watching. “Don’t want to waste manpower, but you’re more than happy to waste my time,” the agent mumbled in annoyance as he lit another cigarette and watched.

  He reached into his shirt and pulled out a golden round locket attached to a gold chain. He opened it and gazed at a picture of an elegant, blond-haired, blue-eyed lady and a little brown-haired boy. A note was attached next to the picture that read, “Love you Daddy, J. P.” Grady took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and exhaled.

  “This job isn’t a waste of my time. It has a purpose -to provide for you two.” Whenever his job became mentally and emotionally overwhelming, he would find solace in looking at his wife Dianna and son J. P. It helped him to calm his nerves and to refocus on the task at hand. He smashed off the end of his cigarette on the rearview window, pulled out another one, and lit it. “I’ll see you one day soon, son,” Agent Grady said to the picture. He closed the locket and stuck it back under his shirt.

  When Grady first accepted his role as the primary monitor for the Davis family, it came with the agreement that his family would be taken care of… substantially. What he didn’t anticipate was that his new role would lead him on a nomadic, solitary life. He knew there would be long hours and time away from home, but he didn’t expect it would be to this degree. At first Grady and Dianna would speak daily. Daily calls soon turned to weekly calls. Weekly calls turned to monthly calls. By that point, all calls stopped entirely.

  Sometimes while waiting, he would think about what Dianna and J. P. were doing. At night he dreamt of being with them once again. Gosh, J. P. must be so big already, he thought. I can’t even remember the last time I got an updated picture of them. He took another drag from his cigarette and leaned back in his chair. You are a shadow; you are just another face in the crowd. That’s the creed he lived by, the oath he swore by all those years ago.

  What’s the connection? he thought, bringing his attention back to the task at hand. He pictured in his mind Carmine and the store owner embracing earlier this morning. He took another drag from his cigarette and receded farther back in his chair. What’s the connection?

  Grady sat up from his seat. It can’t be. Did he find it? Is this another one? Another safe? He quickly lunged over to his passenger floor and began digging through his briefcase. Where the hell is it? I know it’s here -I was looking over it the last week. There, bingo!

  He pulled out another black notebook
labeled, “Colorado.” He flipped through the pages feverishly until he found what he was looking for, an entry from six years earlier.

  “December 19, 1971

  Paramedics on scene at Home Hotel. Accident happened at hotel.

  Albert with paramedics right now. Possibly Katherine or John entering ambulance on gurney.

  Will follow closely and recheck site where Albert was last.”

  It has to be it, Grady thought as he finished reading the entry. He must’ve found the next one. I can feel it. I need to do some more research on his acquaintance. He might be the link to get me close enough to him.

  Agent Grady looked down at his watch. “It’s time.” He placed his notebook back into his briefcase and started his car. He gave one last look at Carmine’s worn, beaten-down barn. It must be there. He’s spent too much time in that barn. He turned his car around and drove back to town. He had a meeting to attend.

  Once a month, Agent Grady would meet with Handler. He was his only connection to the outside world. Grady would turn over notes, leads, and people of interest he had compiled over the previous month. Handler in return would give Grady further objectives regarding the Davises and updates on his family. In the morning of each day they met, Grady would get a call regarding the specified time and place.

  Grady pulled into the parking lot of a diner on the outskirts of Goodsprings, heading toward Las Vegas. He looked down at the black briefcase that contained all his notes that he’d compiled over the past month. Should I tell him I suspect Carmine found the next safe and about his visit to the gun shop? The last time I had a hunch they took so long to respond and fact check that when they finally decided to assist me, the safe Carmine found had already been emptied. I can’t take the chance of missing an opportunity to see my family. I need to take matters into my own hand. I can tell Handler I suspect Carmine has found the safe, but I don’t need to tell him anymore. As well as tell him I intend to capture Carmine myself, even though it goes against my orders. He opened his briefcase, turned to the page with Francisco’s entry, and pulled it out of the book. I’ll look into this more before I hand over this information.

  Grady exited his vehicle and walked across the gravel parking lot toward the diner. He entered through the glass front door and looked around. The majority of the patrons were truckers. He related to these men; they all lived nomadic lives. The exception was that his life had no days off, and he had no one to talk to.

  Tucked back in the corner of the diner sat a man in a brown wide-brim hat. He was thin and dark-skinned. He wore circular, black sunglasses with a thin frame that fit snuggly on his face. A black briefcase and a cup of coffee sat on the table next to him. Agent Grady walked through the diner, past the truckers and waitresses, and headed straight toward the man. As Grady neared, the man placed his mug on the table and looked over at him. “William,” he said with a smile as he opened his hand up to the seat across from him. “Have a seat.”

  “It’s nice to see you again, Handler,” Grady replied as he sat down and placed his briefcase on the ground.

  “Would you like some more coffee, Sugar?” a hefty waitress asked as she walked up to their table.

  “Yes, Marlene, thank you,” Handler responded. “Can we have a couple of menus for my friend and me, please?”

  “Sure thing. Would you like some coffee too, Sugar?” Marlene asked. She had bright red hair put up in a bun, rosy red cheeks, and a warm, welcoming smile.

  Grady nodded. “Yes, please, ma’am.”

  “All right, you two, sit tight and I’ll be right back,” Marlene replied as she finished pouring some coffee in Handler’s mug.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” Handler began as he looked back at Grady. “How unaware the people that are sitting in this diner with us are of who we are and what we do. They live a simple life and work their eight hours. They go home to their families and have no idea that they are just pawns in this game of life.” He stared out of the window, into the distance, before returning his focus back on his guest. “So how have you been, William?”

  Grady brought out another cigarette from his jacket pocket. “Do you mind?” he asked Handler, who gave him a wave of approval. He lit his cigarette and fixed his jacket. He took a drag and leaned over the table and whispered, “I think he found it.”

  “Really? How sure are you that he found the safe? Because back in Lincoln, Nebraska, you thought the same thing and that proved to be false. We wasted a lot of manpower that time for nothing, and we almost blew our cover.”

  “Yes, I know and I remember,” Grady replied annoyingly. “Then the next time I called you in Canon City, Colorado, you didn’t respond in time and I was right.”

  “Well, I—as well as the higher-ups—are not going to take a shot in the dark and hope we hit a bull’s-eye every time you get a hunch. Now, how certain are you that he has found the safe?”

  “He’s been cooped up in a barn on his property for hour’s at the most inconvenient times of the day this past week,” the agent explained as he leaned back in his seat.

  “By inconvenient, you mean…?”

  “Late at night and early in the morning.”

  “And this observation leads you to believe that he found one of the safes Martin buried. He couldn’t be in his barn for any other reason besides that?”

  “Yes, and I’ll tell you why. I don’t think John knows about the safes. As far as he knows, his father is a travelling salesman that has finally found a stable place for them to live. I don’t think Carmine wants John to find out, and how is he going to explain his discovery to him?”

  “So what do you suspect he’s doing?”

  “Carmine has always been a man who took calculated risks; he has always made moves to place the odds in his favor. I think he is counting all his money and plans to move it all at once. Now, for the unlikely chance that John doesn’t take to kindly to the news of his past and the origin of all this money, Carmine would keep a separate pile readily available for him to grab what he can and leave.”

  “Do you think he will tell the boy before he tries to move all the money?”

  “I don’t think he has a choice now. I think John discovered it today. I saw him running from the barn shortly after I followed Mr. Davis home.”

  “That’s not good. You think he will go and report it to the local authorities? I don’t want another incident like Mr. Brown to happen with local, small-town newspaper writers taking this story and viewing it as their ticket to reach the national market. It got out of hand with Mr. Brown; it was a spark that started a wildfire that we couldn’t control.”

  “No. John is timid. He keeps to himself. He has no friends and no one to turn to. He’s even afraid of Carmine. It should be all right.”

  Handler breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good.”

  Marlene returned with the menus and a fresh cup of coffee for Grady.

  “I’m sorry, Marlene, but I don’t think we need those menus,” Handler told her as she poured him another cup of coffee.

  “You sure, Sugar? How about you?” she asked, looking over to Grady.

  “No, thank you, ma’am. We will be heading out shortly.”

  “All right, well you let me know if y’all change your mind,” she replied as she walked away from the two agents.

  Grady waited until Marlene was out of hearing range before he began speaking to Handler. “How is Dianna and J. P?” he asked anxiously, excited to hear any news about his family.

  “They’re good, William,” Handler began, taking a sip of his coffee. “J. P. made the school baseball team, and he’s getting bigger and bigger each time I see him. As for Dianna, where do I start? Mrs. Grady has become a really good baker, I must say. I would’ve brought you a piece of pie that she had baked, but I don’t think it would’ve made it here by now.”

  “You think if this is the safe, I can go back to them?” Grady asked through sorrowful eyes.

  Handler took another sip of his coffee, cleared his th
roat, and looked back out the diner window. “I don’t know. It’s not my decision to make, William —you know that,” he explained, remorse in his voice as he delivered the news.

  Grady leaned over the table, desperation in his voice. “But it must have been discussed. The higher-ups must have told you something. This lifestyle is becoming too much for me. Please, you’ve got to help me…”

  “William, calm down,” Handler said as he looked around to see if anyone in the diner was looking at the commotion. He looked back toward Grady and took off his glasses, revealing dull, lifeless eyes. “You think you’re the only one living this nomadic lifestyle?” he questioned in a stern voice, forcing the agent back to his seat. “You think you’re the only one who’s had to make sacrifices? You think you’re the only shadow the government has? No, there are a lot of you, all over this country. You know who has to handle them?” he asked intensely. He raised his left hand up to his chest, made a fist, and pointed toward himself with his thumb, “Me, that’s who. We can’t definitively say that he has discovered another safe. I need more proof than a hunch to request we move in on Carmine, once again. ”

  He straightened himself in his chair and regained his composure. He took another sip of his coffee and stared out the window. Grady had slumped in his chair, his head hanging in defeat from Handler’s rant. He took a deep breath to calm his nerve. “William, I understand your frustration. I see the sacrifices you’ve made and continue to make. Soon it will be over. Then you will be able to see your family.”