Fury

by Llewellin Jegels

  “Hi there, friend,” I said to the man, walking over to him.

  The man, Gary, held out his hand and we got acquainted. He seemed an amiable type of guy, chubby and somewhere in his late forties, open in a way which made him instantly likeable.

  “So,” Gary said, opening the driver’s side door of the SUV, “You want to take her for a test drive? She drives smooth as butter, you’ll see. Had her tuned to perfection. ‘Modded’, I think the youngsters are calling it nowadays.”

  “No need,” I replied, shaking my head and smiling. “I can see just by looking at her that she’s been kept well. Besides, as I said on the phone, the sale is guaranteed.”

  “Yeah, that is not something you encounter very often,” Gary said, and then after a brief pause. “Sorry, but I have to ask. Are you rich or something?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” I replied with a smile, looking over the SUV, checking out its custom rims and perfectly adjusted chassis. Nice work.

  “You have a few extras on this thing not mentioned in the ad,” I said.

  “Shit,” Gary said, his hand slapping his head almost comically. “Ah hell. Will my little non-disclosure affect the sale? I know I didn’t mention the custom stuff as much in the ad, but I tried to save money, and those bastard newspapers charge the earth.”

  I shook my head, “Relax, it doesn’t change anything. Not at all. I’m impressed if anything. She’s a beauty, no doubt there.”

  Gary nodded, obviously greatly relieved. “She’s my baby. It kills me to sell her, but I’ve got bills to pay. My company went bust about a year ago, and the wife decided to jump ship like a rat, taking half of my remaining finances in the divorce. Also not unlike a rat.”

  “Shit, man,” I replied with feeling. “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  Gary shrugged, “You never know, huh?”

  “No,” I replied. “I guess you don’t.”

  “I always suspected she’d married me for the money,” he continued, on a role now. I let him ride it out. He needed to speak to somebody, and I could certainly give him a kind ear. “When we met, my company was doing well. I had a nice house, a big bloody place, and three cars. Hell, four if you count the sweet little two-seater convertible I bought her for her damn birthday. Then, bang. All gone. Had to sell the house before the bank repossessed it. And now I’m down to selling my last damn car. I love this thing.”

  “I can see you do,” I replied, feeling for the guy. It always amazed me how fast life could turn around on you.

  “And you know what the funny part about all of this is?” Gary continued.

  “What?” I asked, not expecting it to be particularly funny.

  “The bitch still has my damn convertible,” Gary said. “Oh, yeah. She’s doing just fine. Found some other poor sucker to latch onto and suck dry. So she’s back to riding the wave of luxury again, nothing but the best for her. And I’m standing here with a guy I just met, selling my last car to keep the wolves from the door. Life’s a lark, isn’t it?”

  “She’ll get what’s coming to her,” I said, knowing my statement felt more pathetic than sympathetic. “Everyone does, in the end. Some people call it karma. I think it’s just people getting back what they put in.” More bullshit philosophy on my part.

  “Yeah,” Gary replied, nodding slowly. “I hope you’re right, I really do.”

  “I’m right,” I replied. “You just carry on and you’ll be fine. You did it once, you can do it again. Just keep reminding yourself.”

  He nodded, “Yeah, I will.”

  I gestured at the car, “I’m sorry, but we should probably get down to business.”

  He stroked the SUVs hood lovingly “Yeah, of course. I’ll have to find something cheaper, I guess. Much cheaper. A man in my situation can’t afford luxuries.”

  “Maybe not much cheaper,” I replied with a grin.

  The man frowned, “What do you mean?”

  I pulled a bundle of cash from my jacket pocket and handed it to Gary, who looked in the bag. Without counting, he could see the money far exceeded the asking price.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “Three times your asking price,” I replied with a grin. “And a hundred grand on top. On one condition.”

  “The condition…” Gary said vaguely, his eyes not leaving the wad of cash in his hands, no doubt imagining everything he could do with it.

  “Simple,” I replied. “No paperwork. I just drive away, and you get to go and buy a brand new one, and pay off your bills. And use the fair whack you’ll have left for whatever you feel like. What do you say?”

  “What about the cops?” Gary asked, finally looking up, hopeful that I would have an answer which would allow him to keep the life-saving money he gripped so tightly in his hands. “Sorry, but I have to ask. The last thing I need is heat.”

  “Never mind the cops,” I replied, smiling in an attempt to keep him cool.

  “Any record of your ownership of this vehicle will be wiped clean within the hour, I promise you. My company can handle it without breaking a sweat. I guess it’s just a matter of trust now. Do you think you can trust me?”

  “You’re on the run?” Gary asked, hesitantly.

  Under the circumstances I couldn’t blame him if he felt a bit paranoid. But I needed this to go smoothly, and we were too far in now to back out now. Think. What will put this guy at ease? It came to me in a flash of inspiration. I effected an air of amusement.

  “Of course not,” I replied, laughing. “I just prefer to avoid paperwork if my company can set it all up for me without any hassles. Tax isn’t my friend, and I don’t like too much reflecting in the books, if you get my meaning. And I think you do, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Gary replied, looking very relieved. “Oh hell yeah. Now you’re talking my language. I should’ve done the same, in case the shit hit the fan. But I just didn’t have the time to set it all up. Just didn’t have the time. Damn it, I should’ve set something up from the get go.”

  “You weren’t to know that it could’ve happened so quickly,” I replied. “Things can turn around in an instant. But believe me when I tell you they can turn again just as fast.”

  He nodded, “Yeah, I guess so. I wish I still had a financial advisor right now, just so that I could fire his ass on principle.”

  I laughed, “So, some trust? One businessman to another?”

  He teetered on the brink. I could see it in his eyes. “I’ll trust you, yeah.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” I said.

  “But…” he continued, hesitantly.

  “But?” I said, keeping my features in check, not allowing my face to show any emotion. We needed this car. “But what?”

  “If the cops come around, I’m going to claim someone called, we met and then stole the vehicle,” Gary replied. “I’m sorry, but I won’t have a choice.”

  “Fine,” I replied. “Because they won’t, Gary. I guarantee it.”

  He nodded, looking again at the wads of cash he held. “Okay. Good enough for me. Your guarantees are solid.”

  “Just don’t report it stolen until you’ve called up the DMV in an hour and checked up on the ownership of the car.”

  He looked at me then. “You can do that?”

  I grinned, “I can. It’s as good as done.”

  The guy smiled, “Who the hell are you?”

  “One of the good guys,” I replied. “Now take your money, pay off your bills and go have some fun okay?”

  And now, hours later, we were on the road, driving in a shiny SUV toward a future which could go either way, and feeling better than we had in years. But we had to take precautions, beyond just our own security. Shelley and I were in the clear, but Mel had his people to think about. We had no idea what the man in the grey suit would do next. Leave it be or firebomb Mel’s offices. It didn’t seem likely that Division9 would go up against such a high profile target as the offices of Solid-state Systems, but Mel wouldn’t take any chances. />
  So Mel had given his second in command explicit instructions to bring in a security firm, the very best in the industry, to keep his company and employees safe from ‘a possible threat’. He didn’t tell him the exact nature of the threat, claiming something along the lines of an espionage situation, but he made sure the firm they hired were licensed to carry firearms, and were prepared to use them.

  “I don’t think it will come to that,” he said now as I took over driving duties. “But it never hurts to err on the side of caution. I have a responsibility to keep my people safe. And something tells me that the offices of Solid-state are safer than sending them home. Armed security is an excellent deterrent.”

  “You’re a good man, Mel,” I replied.

  “I know,” he said, sighing. “I know. It’s one of my biggest failings.”

  I laughed.

  We continued on down the coast, late morning turning into late afternoon, turning again into dusk, until eventually we came to an inn, overlooking the sea and looking as inviting as anything. We pulled in and came to a stop at the entrance under a couple of palm trees, Shelley waking up as the car came to a halt.

  “Where are we?” she asked, her voice sounding incredibly groggy.

  “New headquarters,” Mel replied. “And I think it’s time for a bite to eat. What do you say? This place looks good to me.”

  “Agreed,” I replied, looking at the inviting building with something approaching longing.

  “Good,” Mel said, nodding. “Then let’s check in and get comfy, shall we? My butt is killing me, and my legs fell off about twenty miles ago.”

  I laughed, “I think I can go along with that.”

  “Yeah,” Shelley said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “You know, Mel, considering how much you paid for this thing, you’d think it would be more comfortable to sleep in.”

  “But you slept,” I replied. “You slept like the dead.”

  “Yeah,” Shelley replied, grinning. “But I didn’t say I slept well.”

  Mel grinned, “Everyone’s a critic.”

  We unpacked our bags and strolled into the inn’s entrance. The place had a relaxed, rustic vibe, fire burning away in a hearth in the lobby, keeping the cold at bay, and soft warm carpets over polished wood floors. Yet still it managed to feel expensive and well maintained.

  The perfect place to settle down and plot our next move, I thought.

  Mel made the arrangements while Shelley and I went up the stairs which led to the deck area, having a seat on a couch overlooking a lush garden with an illuminated pool in its center and watching the darkening horizon, barely managing to make out the ocean in the dying light, neither of us saying much, just listening to the roar of the waves.

  A few minutes later Mel joined us on the deck with a few beers.

  He handed us each a beer and sat beside me. “Everything is settled. Welcome to our new home.”

  “Great,” Shelley said. “Thanks Mel.”

  “You’re welcome, Mrs. Jones,” he replied with a wide grin. “Only the best for the newlyweds.”

  “What?” Shelley and I said together, and I almost spilt my beer.

  “You didn’t,” I groaned. “Mel, tell me you didn’t.”

  Mel held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. There were only two suites available, and you two have a history.”

  I punched him on the arm and he grinned, holding up his beer. “To a blessed union. You two always made a lovely couple.”

  “The only blessed union here is going to be your face and my boot,” Shelley said with feeling.

  “Touché.” Mel replied. “Now drink your beer. It’s time to celebrate.”

  He received The Look for his troubles.

  I didn’t have much to say on the matter myself as I started feeling the way I had in the good old days with regards to Shelley. I’d be utterly damned if I was going to admit it though. Not a damn chance.

  “It’ll be fine, thanks Mel,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll be crashing on the couch.”

  “Oh, too right you will,” Shelley said.

  “What? And miss out on the romantic vibe of this place?” Mel said, shaking his head sadly. “What a terrible, terrible shame.”

  “You’re pushing it,” Shelley said.

  “Yes, I guess I am,” Mel replied. “Sorry.”

  “No you’re not,” Shelley said with a grin. “You’re smiling.”

  “And stop getting us married every bloody time we go on a trip,” I added after a sip of my beer.

  “You guys are no fun.”

  A young woman approached us, and said that if we required anything, just to ring the bell beside the couch and she’d be right up.

  She looked at Mel as she spoke, and I began to worry that she recognized him, but he put a stop to it with practiced ease.

  “I’m not him,” he said. “We just look alike.”

  “Oh,” she said, clearly disappointed.

  “Sorry,” Mel continued.

  She brightened up, “Not to worry. Anything you need, just give me a ring, okay?”

  We thanked her and proceeded to take her up on the offer.

  We spent the rest of the evening having drinks, dinner on the deck under the warm glow of a heater lamp, and then more drinks, until eventually we decided unanimously to call it a night, Mel going off to his room and Shelley and I going off to ours.

  The couch felt even comfier than it looked, and I slept like a baby.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I awoke to a knock on the door, and in one swift action I pulled my Beretta from beneath my pillow, leapt up, SEAL instincts already alert and ready for action long before my mind could fully comprehend the situation. I glanced at my watch. A little after eight a.m.

  I trained the gun trained on the door and glanced quickly at the bed. Shelley lay fast asleep, the sound of the knocking clearly not having disturbed her one bit. I remained quiet, not wanting to make my presence known, waiting for our guest to make theirs known instead.

  Another knock, soft and yet just loud enough to be heard.

  A non-intrusive sound, the type of knock a hotel employee would make to try to get the attention of their guests without actually awakening them. Well, I slept lightly. I eyed the door warily, thought it through quickly.

  False alarm. This didn’t seem to be anything to worry about, judging by the knock. Probably breakfast.

  I moved away from the door just in case, less likely to get a bullet in the chest as soon as I announced myself, and said, “Yes?”

  “Mister Jones?” A voice asked from the other side of the door.

  “Yes,” I replied. “What can I do for you?”

  “Breakfast is being served on the deck,” came the reply. A female voice I recognized from the previous evening. The one who’d kept the drinks flowing and received a sizable tip from a jovially intoxicated Mel. “Your friend is already there. He sent me… Would you and your wife prefer to eat in your room?”

  She probably got the idea that Shelley and I were very much awake and wanting our privacy. Well, I for one felt privacy was overrated when stacked up against a breakfast on the deck, in the morning sun, overlooking the ocean.

  “Thanks,” I replied, as Shelley began to stir. “I’ll be there in a few minutes. My… wife… is still resting, so just serve for me in the meantime.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied. “What would you like?”

  “Whatever my friend’s having,” I replied with a grin. “Provided it won’t empty out your kitchen.”

  A laugh came from the other side of the door, “I think we can make a plan. See you shortly.”

  “What the heck?” Shelley muttered from the bed. “What about my breakfast?”

  “I thought you were sleeping,” I said, turning away from the door and looking at her. She stretched, arching her back lazily. God, she looked good in the morning.

  I looked away hurriedly. “I’ll tell them to serve yours too when I get there.”r />
  “Thanks Tom,” she said, tossing her hair to one side. She knew I used to love it. In fact, it seemed to me that she’d done it just now because …

  No. Time to go.

  I nodded and got dressed in all haste, heading out for breakfast as my stomach grumbled away. Mel waved me over as I entered the sunny area.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Mel said, with a grin. “Look at this layout, man! A breakfast fit for kings!”

  I took a seat, “Morning, Mel. It does look like it, yes. And more than one king.”

  “Dig in,” he said, trying to get the entire contents of a heaped slice of toast into his mouth and succeeding admirably. “And whatever you can’t finish you can send my way.”

  I laughed, “I think I can handle it, but thanks for the offer.”

  “Just trying to be helpful.”

  “Sure you are.”

  I dug in, getting into my plate like I hadn’t eaten in days, not even waiting for Shelley to arrive.

  Shelley. Rachel. I glanced down at the people scattered around the pool on the lawn, living calm and calculated lives with no insane government agents after them or daughters who mysteriously vanished into the night. I wondered how any of them would deal with what we were dealing with if they even had the mechanisms to do it.

  Everybody experienced trouble, adversities they had to overcome. Life. The only difference was what flavor the troubles came in, and how they chose to deal with things.

  It felt like the beginnings of a meltdown to me.

  I looked up at the morning ocean, its gentle surface glittering in the morning light, calming my thoughts and easing my suddenly broiling emotions.

  Things would be okay. The man in the grey suit had been a dead end, yes, and an unpleasant one, but things were going to be fine, just the same. We just needed to persevere, to keep on the search for Don Abaid and Rachel, and we’d get there in the end. Because we wouldn’t give up until we did.

  Boldly they rode and well. Into the mouth of hell…

  Mel seemed to sense my thoughts. “We’ll work this out, Tom. We’ve got the bastard’s computer now, something we never had before. Damn gold, man. We have a solid direction to go in. We’ll find him, and we’ll make him pay for what he’s done.”