Dark Guardian

by Ammar Habib

  “Whenever you find this man or the two women you let me know. I’ll have my man interrogate them. And if your men can’t break the editor after two hours I want my man to be his interrogator as well. I don’t trust you to carry out the questioning.”

  “…which man is that?”

  “The one standing in front of you.”

  Nervously, Richard looked up at the lieutenant. He now wore a sly smirk and had his arms crossed. With his eyes fixed on this man, Richard replied, “Yes, sir.”

  “And by the way, you might want to make sure that you bring him down quickly. Because the next person he’ll be coming for is you.”

  ***

  Bradley stood with his elbow leaning against the vacant desk of his secretary. Standing under the florescent lights, he helplessly watched the chaos unfold in front of him, but inside his heart was bursting with rage. The entire building had been closed down by the police as they had rampaged through the files and records of the real estate company. They had sent everyone home and seized the building. No one was allowed in and he was not allowed out.

  But Bradley knew better than to question the police. It never ended well.

  Throughout the lobby there were countless papers carelessly scattered across the floor. Many had been stepped on and damaged by the uncaring intruders. It seemed like every drawer of every filing cabinet was yanked open and emptied. Desktops were piled high with folders and papers. All of the computer records had been double checked.

  The manager winced at the thought of how long it would take to put everything back in its place. They had gone so far as to trash his own office in their search and he was afraid to see the damage.

  The cops finished their rampaging. They were all casually standing up or sitting down throughout the office floor, acting as if nothing had happened. They seemed to have forgotten all of the chaos they had caused over the past few hours. Their loud, rowdy voices echoed throughout the entire building. Some were in their blue uniforms, but many were casually dressed. But they were all just as bad as the next one in Bradley’s eyes.

  In front of the elderly, dark-skinned man stood a detective who wore a brown suit. He was looking down at the clipboard in his hands and making notes with a chewed up yellow pencil. The entire time the police had searched the records, this head honcho had been surveying his team and making notes on his clipboard that he kept secret from everyone else.

  Frustration covered Bradley’s face as he waited for the detective to say something. Bradley looked away towards his secretary’s vacant desk. He was envying the fact that she did not have to sit through this rubbish. His gaze fell back onto the detective just as the man looked up at him. “The good news is that nothing suspicious was found on your records.”

  Bradley stopped leaning on the desk and stood up straight. “Do you mind telling me why you are here in the first place?”

  The detective tucked his pencil inside his jacket pocket. “That’s confidential.”

  “Of course it is. I doubt your boys are going to clean up.”

  “I need to ask you some questions and then we’ll be on our way.”

  “Go on.”

  “Have you done any deals off the record with anybody?”

  Bradley thought for a second, but then shook his head. “All our transactions are kept in our files.”

  The detective leaned in a little closer, causing Bradley to lean his head a little back to escape this man’s bad breath. “You sure? You did not give anybody any property that’s not on the records? Specifically property that is located in largely uninhabited or vacant areas?”

  One instance immediately came to Bradley’s mind, but he did not mention it. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  The detective looked into Bradley’s eyes for a long time before he looked back at his clipboard and shrugged. “Alright. I hope you’re telling the truth for your own sake.”

  “I’m sure if I’m not, then you’ll find out soon enough.”

  With a smirk, the detective disregarded the mockery and took a few steps backwards. He turned around and motioned for the officers to depart with a wave of his hand. In an instant, they all began to leave the office. Many of the officers went out of their way to knock stacks of papers off of the table and scatter them across the floor. They shot menacing smiles towards the manager as he helplessly watched the mess in his office grow. But, he kept a calm expression on his face.

  Within a few minutes, only Bradley and the detective were left. As he exited through the double doors, the detective turned his head slightly. “I wish I could let my boys spend more time here, but we have a few other places to hit up. We’ll be in touch.”

  With those words, Bradley was left alone in the lobby. He angrily slammed his fist against the desktop and kept it there as the echo slowly faded. With a grunt, he looked at the chaotic mess around him. He came over to the nearest fallen papers and took them into his hands. As he laid them on top of a desk, he became lost in his thoughts.

  He had not forgotten that Ethan had moved the warehouse into his private account. Luckily, Bradley had removed any existence of the warehouse from their records the day he had made that transaction. It was something he always did for David when he moved property into his personal account. And he was glad he did.

  ***

  Their phone lines were dead. Their internet had been cut. The whole place was in lockdown.

  Looking at the black screen of his computer, William sat behind his desk. His office’s door was swung wide open and a uniformed cop stood in the doorway, his back leaning against the side of the open entrance. Every few minutes he would look towards the reporter to see what he was doing, but mostly kept his gaze fixed on the floor.

  The ceiling fan above him slowly rotated, but its sound was drowned by the outside noise. William could hear the voices of countless officers and could see them through his window. The field of off-white cubicles was all in view. Police were marching between the cubicles and keeping an eye on everybody. Across the floor, on the far side of an adjacent wall he could see the closed door of his editor’s office.

  Four years ago this would have been illegal, and they could have prosecuted the police for this. But ever since freedom of the press had been taken away along with nearly every other individual liberty, the police could do anything that they wanted. They no longer served the people. They now served the highest bidder.

  Only two hours ago they had come charging in unannounced. Within minutes, they had taken complete control of the building and had cut off any communication with the outside world. They had gone so far as to collect cell phones, but some of the workers had been unwilling to cooperate. They had been roughed up by the police and dragged off in handcuffs.

  There were still a few drops of blood staining the carpet outside William’s office. One of his coworkers and friends, Pete, had loudly voiced his complaints as the police had marched in. Two officers had proceeded to beat him with their batons and nearly knocked him unconscious before hauling him off to the station. William winced at the thought of how he was being treated there. In Crown City, nobody ever bragged about how hospitable the police were at the station. Even the bravest of people who went in came out broken and terrified.

  In public, the police were evil. At the station, they were worse than animals.

  His editor and boss, Carl, was locked away in his office. The head detective and two cops were in there with him. The blinds had been drawn back and closed, preventing anyone from looking in. Two more cops guarded the entrance. Whatever was going on in there definitely was not a friendly conversation.

  Now he helplessly watched through his window as the officers bullied and harassed each and every one of his coworkers. No one dared stand up to the oppressors as they feared for their own safety. One-by-one, people were randomly taken and hauled off into a vacant office for questioning. After the interview most were sent back to their cubicle, but some were handcuffed and taken downtown to the station. William was not sure why.
He knew that none of them knew anything. They probably had been taken away so the police could torment them some more. Crown City’s finest had a reputation.

  Although his face was calm, William was trembling inside. He knew why they were here. It was because of his article. They were looking for him. This was all his fault for trusting that maniac.

  Where was he now? Maybe he had no real intention of keeping William safe or telling William who had killed his wife. Perhaps he was the psychopath the police were making him out to be.

  The reporter nervously drummed his fingers on the top of the desk. The officer looked his way once more, but the reporter did not look back. Though, from the corner of his eye he could see the cop was smirking.

  William noticed that someone was trying to enter his office. Susie was attempting to go through the doorway, but the officer barred the entrance. “Where are you going, sweetheart? Coming to visit me I hope.”

  Susie did not look into the vile man’s eyes. “Please, let me pass.”

  The officer turned his head and looked towards William. “Why? So you can see your boyfriend here? I can guarantee you that he’s not as much fun as I am.”

  William rose to his feet, still behind the desk. “Hey, I think that’s enough.”

  Stepping away from his to-be-victim, the cop turned around and looked at the reporter. His smile was gone. “Why don’t you mind your own business? We were just having a friendly chat.”

  William did not reply as he fearlessly stared into the officer’s eyes, but the cop looked down and saw his fist.

  With a snicker, he entered into the office and pulled out his baton from his belt. “So, you’re a tough guy.” He began to make his way around the desk. Susie was looking wide-eyed at the situation in front of her, not sure what to do. William stared at his soon-to-be attacker as the officer spoke. “Well, every dog can be tamed with a proper beating. And lucky for me, I brought my stick.”

  As the cop was almost upon him, William slid his left foot back a little. Any fear he had was not showing in his eyes. With a sudden move, the cop swung his rod at William’s head with the intention to crack it in two. However, William instinctively dodged it and as he came back up, he grabbed the officer’s wrist. In an instant, he disarmed the officer with ease. With his open palm, he stuck the cop right in the face and then swiftly kicked him in the stomach. The cop fell hard on his back.

  For a few seconds, the cop did not move, clearly shocked at how easily he had been bested. However, rage filled his eyes as he sprung to his feet and reached for his holster. He stopped short of pulling his gun out as his radio went off. “O’Hara, get over to the editor’s office.”

  For several moments the two men looked into one another’s eyes. The cop was clearly debating whether or not to continue his assault or respond to the command.

  Finally, he pulled out his radio and spoke into it, his eyes never leaving William. He tried to make his voice sound as normal as possible. “On my way.” He turned around and began to reluctantly make his way towards the door.

  William’s voice caused him to stop and turn around. “You forgot your stick.”

  Just as O’Hara looked back, he saw the baton flying towards him. He barely caught it before it slammed against his chest. He waited several moments before putting it away, staring at the reporter. His eyes became fixed on Susie, who was still standing to the side of the doorway, as he walked out of the room. His vile expression and voice returned. “Catch you later, sweetheart. After all, I know where you work now and I’ll know where you live soon enough.”

  Susie avoided making any eye contact as he passed.

  With a sinister laugh, the cop departed. When he was far enough, the young lady quickly entered the room. William let out a sigh of relief, knowing that it could have gone much worse. He looked away from the secretary and through the window towards the rest of the office. Luckily, none of O’Hara’s buddies had seen the scuffle happen. Otherwise, they might have joined in. He looked back towards Susie. “Why are you here?”

  From her back pocket she pulled out a piece of white, computer paper that had been neatly folded twice over. She quickly laid it on the desktop, but her eyes remained fixed on William’s face. “I found this on my desk after the police arrived. It has your name on it.”

  William looked down at the sheet and sure enough his name was scribbled on it. He took it into his hands.

  “Thank you, Will.”

  He did not reply as he flipped the folded paper in his hands.

  “How did you do that?”

  “I was in the military before becoming a reporter.” He began to unfold the paper as he finally looked up at her. “I think it would be a good idea if you spent the night at a relative’s house tonight. Just in case O’Hara decides to pay you a visit. Do you have any family in town?”

  She shook her head.

  “Any friends?”

  Again, she shook her head. “I just moved here a month ago.”

  William had finally unfolded the paper and held it outstretched in front of him. He scanned over it and immediately recognized the handwriting. His heart seemed to skip a beat. He glanced up to make sure nobody was looking in on them. Gazing back in Susie’s direction, he spoke again. “Well then, how about you spend the night at my place? I have an extra bedroom and we can pick up your things once they let us go. Are you okay with that?”

  She slightly nodded. “Yes.”

  William looked back down at the paper and began to read it:

  By the time you read this, the police will have shut the entire newspaper down. You’re worried for the safety of your editor and yourself. You’re already wondering if I have betrayed your trust. You’re wondering if I am the psychopath the police have made me out to be. I can assure you neither is true. You are safe. Your editor will not give up your name. Not yet. Within a few minutes, your editor will be taken away. They will tell you that he’s being taken to the police station, but that is a lie. He will only be there for this night. Tomorrow he will be taken to Anthony Griffin’s private interrogator. There, he will talk. But it will not get that far.

  William’s eyes stayed on the page for a long time after he finished reading. He finally looked up at Susie, who could see the shock on his face. “…Where did you find this?”

  “On my desk. Why? Who sent it?”

  William folded the paper up neatly and stuffed it into his back pocket. He looked back outside to make sure nobody was looking in on them. Seeing that they were in the clear, his gaze went back onto the secretary. “Somebody who can help…I hope.”

  Her wide eyes showed him that Susie knew who he meant. Before either of them could speak again, a commotion outside caught their attention.

  The editor’s office was wide open now. With a cop roughly holding each arm, Carl was dragged out of his office. One of the officers was O’Hara. Carl’s hands were behind his back and securely handcuffed. There seemed to be a slight limp in his step that had not been there this morning. His face was covered in sweat. Behind him, the head detective came out and wiped his hands against his brown pants before fixing his red tie. His face seemed as calm as before. There were gasps from many of the employees as they saw what condition their boss was in, but no one dared to speak. They all just stared as he was roughly escorted through the office’s floor.

  As Carl was shoved in the elevator, he turned his head slightly around and William could have sworn that he was looking directly into his eyes now. He was not sure, but he thought that Carl sent a small, reassuring nod his way before looking away.

  The hooded man must have been right.

  William helplessly watched as the elevator doors closed and Carl disappeared from sight. The loudspeaker suddenly went off and an unfamiliar voice started talking. “All employees are to leave immediately. Anyone still in the building after fifteen minutes will be detained.”

  Chapter 17

  Breaking Point

  Nobody came to greet Ethan when he walked
into his penthouse.

  The room was well lit by the chandelier as the sun was almost upon the horizon. With every step he took, Ethan could feel his body overwhelmed with soreness and pain. However, he ignored it. He was well-rehearsed at hiding his emotions.

  It had been a couple of days since he had shaven. He could feel that the hair was beginning to show on his cheeks and chin. His black hair could probably use a trim as well. Ethan ran his hand over his scalp, waiting a few minutes before doing anything.

  He wore a nice pair of blue jeans and a long-sleeved, bright yellow t-shirt. His clothes hid all of his bruises and stitches. It would be hard to explain them otherwise.

  Walking into the corridor, he could hear voices coming from the dining room not too far away. He paused for a second as his sharp ears quickly recognized the voices as those of his two servants and business partner. He quietly proceeded down the hallway, making sure that he was not heard while he continued to ignore the pain that gripped his entire body. Soon, he was right next to the open doorway to the dining hall, but remained out of view. He recognized Marion’s voice.

  “I don’t know Charles. Every day I have to stop myself from calling the men in white coats to take him away. Everything he does, from the way he acts to the way he talks, reminds me of the patients I use to see at the mental institute. I mean, he just took off last night and I haven’t heard from him since. For all we know, he could be dead right now.”

  “I think you might be overreacting, Marion. He is being irresponsible, but we have to realize that he might have gone through some terrible ordeals while he was away. He may be experiencing some sort of post traumatic stress.”

  Emanuel decided to put his two cents in. “No way, Charles. My brother had post traumatic stress after coming back from the war. But this is something different. It’s been weeks since he’s been back and it just keeps getting worse every day. He’s like a freaking psychopath or something, man. I’m telling you, he’s not right in the head.”