by Mel LeBrun
“Trouble seems to find me.”
“Yes. Well. I know the feeling.”
“So what happened with Milovich?” Josh asked.
“I barely got out of that alive.” Dmitri took a deep breath. “I didn't see it coming, that's for sure. I was there when they attacked. With the firepower they were bringing, I wasn't going to stick around to protect Milovich. I got out while I could.”
“Good thing, or you probably wouldn't be here,” said Michael.
Dmitri nodded in agreement.
“You have any idea who was behind it?” Martin asked.
Dmitri pursed his lips and shook his head. “Not a clue.”
“You ever heard of Jeffrey Bowen?” Michael asked.
“No. Who is he?”
“Hmm.” Michael frowned. “I'll tell you later.”
“I see. Well, how about you explain what I'm doing here?”
“Fair enough,” Michael said. “Here's what's happening ...”
UNDER THE cover of darkness, the men returned to Ortiz's heavily guarded mansion. Michael was only lightly armed with a single handgun while Martin, Josh, and Dmitri sported assault rifles and grenades.
“You sure you want to go through with this?” Josh asked Michael.
“No.” He looked at him. “But I'm going to.”
Josh had a bad feeling things would not go well. He was not alone. Before anyone had time to think about it, Michael made his move. He ran to the wall and threw a grappling hook over the top. He climbed up to the barbed wire. Using wire cutters, he removed a section and climbed over.
Almost as soon as he hit the ground on the other side a patrol spotted him. The dog was released and Michael's new priority was not getting bitten. The dog snarled and lunged at him. He managed to dodge the initial attack but the dog was so vicious and aggressive that in his effort to fend it off and because it was so dark, he tripped and fell. The only reason he didn't shoot the dog was out of fear that the guards would then shoot him. The dog bit down on his arm, piercing the skin. Michael had so much adrenaline running through his system, he hardly felt it. As he tried to get the savage dog off his arm, he was surrounded by guards. With Michael now held at gunpoint, one of the men called off the beast, much to his relief. He was then relieved of his weapon and escorted inside the building.
He was brought into a room similar to Corvo's. His wrists were chained to the ceiling which, now that he could feel the bite, caused him a great deal of pain. Soon Michael was looking at the same interrogator who was pressing Corvo for information.
“Who are you? And what are you doing here?” he asked.
Michael didn't answer. After a minute of only silence the man sighed.
“I'll be back later,” he said, then turned and left.
As he walked out, two men walked in. For the next hour, they worked him over like they had done to Corvo. The interrogator returned hoping to find a more cooperative captive.
“I will ask you again, who are you and what are you doing here?”
“Okay, you win,” Michael said. Every inch of his body hurt. “My name is Jeffrey Bowen. I need to speak with Rafael.”
The interrogator let out a hearty laugh. He was genuinely amused. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” Michael answered. “If you could please get him for me?”
The interrogator stepped forward. “I am Rafael Ortiz,” he declared with a condescending smile.
“Oh, well then you're the one I need to speak with.”
“And I know Jeffrey Bowen.” His smile vanished. “You are not him.”
“I don't know what to tell you. I'm Jeffrey Bowen. Whoever the other guy is, he's a fake.”
Ortiz clearly didn't buy that. “You will tell me who you really are. You will cry it out at the top of your lungs when you can no longer bear the pain,” Ortiz growled in anger before then storming off.
Despite the abuses that followed, Michael maintained that his name was Jeffrey Bowen. Ortiz found it quite troubling.
JEFFREY BOWEN was preparing to return home when his phone rang. Seeing the number, he immediately became anxious.
“Hello, Rafael,” he answered.
“Jeff, how are you doing?” Ortiz sounded chipper.
“Just fine. Getting ready to leave New York. What can I do for you?” Jeff paced the room wondering why Ortiz was calling him and what became of Michael.
“I have a bit of an odd situation.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“Someone snuck onto my property last night. He insists his name is Jeffrey Bowen.”
Jeff was livid. He knew it had to be Michael. He had gotten himself caught. He tried to warn him that it was too dangerous, there was no way in. But he didn't listen. “Really?” Jeff replied. “Well that is interesting. Is that all he's said?”
“Yes. And with what I've put him through, I'm surprised that's all he's said. I was wondering if perhaps you knew who he was.”
“I can't tell over the phone. Since I was about to fly out anyway, how about I come there and take a look?”
“Oh you don't have to come all this way. I can send you a picture.”
“No. I think I'd like to speak to him myself. He is claiming to be me after all.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Do me a favor,” Jeff added. “Don't do anything more to him until I get there. I don't want you accidentally killing him before I get a chance to speak with him.”
“Only because it's you asking,” Ortiz replied.
“I'll see you soon.” Jeff hung up his phone and restrained the urge to throw it at a wall.
His daughter was in the hospital and now his son in law was about to be killed by one of his business associates.
THOUGH SPARED from further beatings for the time being, Michael was in physical agony. Still shackled to the ceiling his whole body quivered. A direct result of the pain overloading his senses. He wondered how Corvo was holding up.
Corvo wasn't doing much better, in fact he was far worse. Having twice passed out from the brutal torture only to be revived minutes later, Corvo prayed for death.
Ortiz stepped back in the room to question him again. Corvo had already exhausted his options of lying and misdirecting. Now he simply remained silent. Ortiz was growing tired of his stubbornness. He decided to see if “Jefferey Bowen” and Corvo knew each other. While he questioned Corvo, Ortiz had Michael brought to the room.
“Do you know this man?” Ortiz asked.
Corvo was dismayed to see Michael being dragged into the room. He hadn't said anything that could have led them to Michael. He feared perhaps whoever betrayed him had betrayed Michael as well. He wondered if Gatti was next or if he had already been taken.
Corvo shook his head. “No. I've never seen him before.”
Ortiz pulled out a handgun and held it to Michael's head. “If you don't know him then perhaps I should just kill him now.”
It was a perplexing predicament. Would Ortiz really kill Michael if he denied knowing him? If he admits he knows him, would Ortiz use their relationship against them both or perhaps kill him still anyway? For the first time, Corvo didn't know how to respond. He looked down at Michael crumpled on the floor, beaten nearly half to death. Michael looked up at him and almost imperceptibly shook his head no. Corvo took that as his cue.
“I don't know him,” Corvo repeated.
Hoping to maybe spark a reaction in Michael, Ortiz then ordered that Corvo be beaten while Michael looked on. Michael remained emotionless and unaffected.
Not getting the reactions he hoped for, Ortiz had Michael returned to his cell.
Chapter 29
Jeff arrived in Valencia with two of his personal guards. Ortiz sent a driver to pick them up from the airport and bring them to his home. Jeff declined an invitation to take up quarters in one of his many guest rooms. For various reasons, Jeff never accepted hospitality from any of his business associates or contacts. He reserved himself a room in the finest hotel within an hour's dri
ve.
“I'd like to see this man who is claiming to be me,” Jeff said.
Ortiz smiled. “Of course. Follow me.”
Ortiz led the way to the basement where Corvo and Michael were being held. As they walked down the steps, the sound of a man crying out in pain could be heard.
“You're not still torturing him after I asked you not to, are you?” Jeff asked.
Ortiz sensed indignation in his tone. “No,” he replied. “That is someone else. I would never go back on my word to you, Jeff,” he insisted.
Jeff made no response as he continued following him to Michael's cell. He walked in the room and sure enough, it was Michael. His hands restrained high above his head, his eyes were closed and his head hung down. With his face covered in blood and bruises, it looked like he was dead.
“You killed him?” Jeff asked, making no attempt to hide a flash of anger.
“No,” Ortiz answered nervously, hoping Michael hadn't died. He stepped over to Michael and grabbed his hair, lifting up his head.
Michael woke and looked around. He saw Jeff but tried not to look too long at him. Jeff was visibly unhappy.
“Do you know him?” Ortiz asked Jeff.
“No,” Jeff answered. “But he's going to tell me who he is and why he's pretending to be me.” Jeff turned and looked at Ortiz. “You can leave now.”
Ortiz seemed confused by the order. He stood staring at Jeff as though he couldn't have possibly said what he did.
“Do I have to ask again?” Jeff said, his tone louder and angrier than before.
“No.” Ortiz backed out of the room. “I'll be upstairs.”
After he left, Jeff ordered his bodyguards to wait outside. Now alone, Jeff stepped close to Michael. “Twelve years in special forces, huh?” He shook his head. “I knew you would never make it inside.”
“But I did make it inside,” Michael replied.
Jeff laughed mockingly. “Oh, I see. This was all a part of your plan then?”
“Yep. So far everything is going exactly as planned.”
Jeff's smile disappeared. He wasn't sure if Michael had become delusional or if this was really what he had planned all along. “How could this possibly be a good plan? You've been captured. You're chained to a ceiling, beat to hell, about to die.”
Michael tried to swallow. Not having drunk anything in the past day, his mouth was drier than sand. “That's where you come in.”
Jeff couldn't believe his ears. “I should leave you here to die.”
“But you won't.”
Grabbing Michael's arm where the dog had bitten him, Jeff squeezed with all his might. It was his revenge for all the blows he suffered at Michael's hands. Michael cried out from the intense pain being inflicted.
Jeff leaned in close to Michael's ear and whispered. “What makes you so confident that I will help you?” He released Michael's arm and waited for a reply.
Taking a moment to recover, Michael answered him. “You'll do it for Jess.”
Jeff turned his back to him and ran his hand down over his face, furious that Michael put him in this position. “When you asked for the plane,” Jeff looked back to him, “this was your plan?”
“You know as well as I that we'd never make it into this place,” Michael answered. “His security is designed to keep people out, not in. Breaking out will be much easier and safer.”
“Says the man chained to the ceiling,” Jeff taunted. “And what if they had simply killed you? What if I didn't come here?”
“Those were risks I took.”
Jeff shook his head. “What is it you expect me to do?”
“Send one of your men to the northeast corner of the compound. When the patrols aren't looking, have your guy whistle. My team will toss a bag over the fence. Inside will be everything we need to escape. Charges for taking out the electrical system, night vision goggles, weapons, and some emergency medical supplies so I can patch Lance up enough to get him out.”
Jeff looked Michael over. “You need some patching yourself, Michael.”
“I'm fine.”
“Do you have a plan for getting out of those chains?” Jeff asked.
“Yeah well, I hadn't really planned for being shackled in a dungeon. He's got quite the set-up doesn't he?”
Jeff sighed. “I'm sure there's a key somewhere.”
“You will need to be with me with the supplies when the charges go off.”
“I know,” Jeff replied. “How are you going to get past the wall?”
“Five minutes after the power goes out, my friends are going to blow a hole in it and provide cover fire for us. We have to be out of the building by then.”
Jeff pursed his lips and nodded. “How did you know I knew Ortiz?”
“How else would you have known so much about him and his security?” he answered. In actuality, Michael had seen Ortiz's name on Jeff's phone in his contact list. But he wasn't about to admit that.
“That's some guess. What if you had been wrong?”
“I wasn't.”
Jeff shook his head in disbelief. “I'll be back when I have the bag.”
JEFF SENT one of his men to the northeast corner of the complex to retrieve the bag. As he got to the corner a passing patrol spotted him and began walking towards him. He was prepared for it and lit a cigarette as they approached.
“What are you doing out here?” one of the guards asked.
“Just having a smoke,” he answered.
“Why come all the way out here?”
“My boss is pissing me off and I needed a break.”
The guards understood that sentiment. They told him to enjoy his reprieve and continued on their patrol. When the guards were far enough away, Jeff's bodyguard whistled. Josh flung the bag over the wall, trying to make it land in the camera's blind spot. He missed by a few inches, but it didn't matter. No one in the security station noticed the brief flash of the bag falling. Jeff's man quickly delivered the bag to him.
Jeff tasked one of his men with placing the explosives on the circuit breaker panels and the other with getting the key to free Michael. He then walked them to the basement under the guise of interrogating Michael again.
Though cutting power from the street would have been much easier and safer, it would also have been only a temporary setback. Ortiz had a large generator equipped to run in the event of a power failure. Destroying the electrical panels would render the generator useless.
Jeff engaged Ortiz's men in conversation, inquiring whether Michael had said anything useful and if they had gotten what they wanted from the other captive yet. While he was distracting the guards, Jeff's man slipped out to place the charges. The other slyly stole the key to unshackle Michael from off the wall. When his men returned, Jeff asked the guards for privacy and they obliged.
Jeff and his men entered the room with Michael, shutting the door behind them. Michael didn't look so good. The bite on his arm looked like it was becoming infected. Bruises covered his body. Jeff wondered if he was up to the task of rescuing Corvo or if perhaps he himself needed to be rescued.
“Are you going to be able to do this Michael?” Jeff asked.
Michael opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at him. “I'll be fine,” he assured him.
Jeff sighed deeply and shook his head. “Some of this morphine is for you?”
Michael shook his head. “No. Lance needs it more than me.”
Jeff paused, looking Michael over. He then pulled the morphine and syringe from the med kit.
“What are you doing?” Michael asked.
Jeff began to fill the syringe. “I'm doing for you what you won't do for yourself.”
“Jeff. Stop. I don't need it.”
“I disagree.” Jeff turned to him with the syringe. “Pain is a distraction you don't need.”
“I've been in pain before. I'll be fine.”
“There's still enough for your friend.”
“There's only one syringe,” Michael said force
fully.
“You're not sick are you?” Jeff asked, not really caring what the answer would be.
Without further discussion and despite Michael's objections, Jeff injected him with the morphine. Still restrained and in agonizing pain, he could do little to stop him.
Once Michael settled down, Jeff motioned for his man to release him. Finally freed, he stumbled as he tried to stand on his own. Jeff's guards helped him regain his balance.
Disgusted that Jeff had ignored his wishes, Michael didn't even want to look at him. He snatched the bag from him and pulled out the silenced handgun inside. Although the morphine dulled much of the pain, his whole body ached and moving was still arduous. He put the night vision goggles on his head in preparation of the lights going out.
“Don't leave this room until it's over,” Michael said to Jeff.
Jeff said nothing in response.
“You hear me?” Michael looked up at him.
“I heard you,” Jeff answered.
Michael pulled the remote detonator from the bag and asked if the explosives were set. The guard assured him they were.
Michael nodded. “Here goes nothing.”
He pressed the button and half a second later the house rocked and the lights went out. Michael flipped down the goggles and left the room. Two guards with flashlights ran down the stairs as he approached Corvo's cell. He took them out and continued. The door to Corvo's torture chamber opened as the man interrogating him tried to find out what was going on. Michael dropped him and entered the room with Corvo.
“It's me. We're getting out of here,” Michael told him.
“I should have known,” Corvo said weakly as Michael freed him from his bindings. “You let them capture you.”
“It was the only way in.”
Once his hands were free, Corvo collapsed on the floor. His body shook from the excruciating pain.
“I don't think I can make it,” Corvo said, feeling nauseous from the pain.
Michael knelt by his side and opened the med kit. “You are not dying here.”
He loaded the syringe with morphine and gave Corvo a strong dose. Michael pulled a second pair of night vision goggles from the bag and put them on Corvo's head. Now that Corvo could see, Michael handed him the other silenced gun that was in the bag.