by Anna Wild
As he soon realized, however, Saturday, February 25th would turn out to be a sad day for him and everybody working at the science facility. Tim was about to exit the building, when he noticed Laura’s limo in the parking lot. He stepped outside and folded his arms across his chest, curious about the reasons of her visit. The young blonde seemed to be in quite a hurry; she didn’t even wait for her driver to open her door. Instead, she got out of her car and strutted towards the entrance, staring up at Tim the entire time. The stiff expression on her face worried him, as she climbed the small staircase. Her eyes were filled with a darkened rage. Something was very wrong indeed. He kept his gaze fixed upon her face, at the same time preparing himself for the worst. Tim had faced a number of thugs in the past; he would not be intimidated by a rich, spoiled girl like her. Stopping in front of him, she attempted to throw a right handed punch. He quickly raised his left arm and grabbed her forearm in midair. Laura tried to do the exact same thing, using her other arm, to no avail. Tim managed to grab that that arm as well.
“You son of a bitch!” she screamed, squirming to break free of his hold. “How could you do this to me?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” He squinted at her, pushing her back. Loosening his grip, he let her go and dropped his arms.
“Don’t act like you don’t know!” Laura cried, pointing her finger at him. “I know about you two! Someone saw you kissing in a bar last night!”
Her revelation did not come as a surprise. On some level, Tim expected her to find out. Laura was a powerful woman; it was only natural for her to have eyes everywhere.
“So?” He shrugged his shoulders.
“You got some nerve you little bastard,” she lowered her tone, her breathing heavy as she glared at him. “I throw myself at you and you choose her over me? Where is she?” she inquired, taking a step to the left. When Laura tried to pass him by, he stepped in front of her and blocked her path. “Let me through!” she commanded. “I want her to hear this from me!”
“Hear what?” He asked in an authoritative tone, folding his arms across his chest again, as if he was trying to intimidate her with his sheer size.
“Alright,” she nodded, taking a step back, as an ironic smile spread across her face. “Go tell her that I’m pulling the plug on the funding. No more money from now on. I’ve already paid for this week. I’m not paying for next week, though. You have until Monday morning to clear the premises. Have a nice day, Mr. Shaw.”
Tim was stunned beyond belief. Unable to force another word out of his throat, he watched as Laura slowly turned around, still with the same, smug smile on her face that made the blood boil in his veins. He ran both hands through his hair, as dull despair settled over him. The grim task that was assigned to him broke his heart. Comprehending how hard it would be for him to announce this terrible news to Josephine, for a moment, he thought of calling out to Laura. All the same, he did not. Most likely, the rich blonde would be harsh to Josephine and devastate her even more. He had to do this all by himself.
Tim dragged his feet across the floor, wishing he had never been in this position. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, as he approached the door to Josephine’s lab. Usually, he would knock and ask for permission to enter; there was always a chance that she and her colleagues were running some kind of experiment and did not wish to be interrupted. This time however, he grabbed the handle on the left side of the door and walked into the lab. His rude move startled everybody. They all turned their attention to him. He felt the eyes of eight people on him at the same time, as he put his hands on his waist.
“Sorry to barge in like that,” Tim croaked. “I need to speak to Dr. Taylor: in private.”
“Please give us the room.” Josephine politely requested. He waited for each and every scientist to leave the lab, staring down at the grey, marble floor, too sad to look into her eyes. Upon hearing the sound of the door closing behind him, he clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.
“What’s the matter?” Not even her fruity voice was enough to draw his attention. He remained silent, as she lazily walked up to him, with an empty test tube in her right hand. Tim only opened his mouth when her black, high heels came into view.
“Laura was here earlier,” he groaned, dragging his gaze up to meet hers. “There’s no easy way to say this.”
“Tim, you’re scaring me,” Josephine said, her voice quivering with fear, as she intensified her stare. “Say what?”
“She stopped funding your research.” His blunt response sent her into such deep shock that the tube slipped through her fingers. It fell hard on the floor and shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. Josephine raised both her hands up to her face and put them over her mouth, as a gasp of surprise left her lips. Tim heaved a long, deep sigh, before removing his hands from his waist. A short step towards her brought him very close to her. He wrapped his long arms around his stunned girlfriend, shutting his eyes. “I’m sorry, doc,” he whispered. “She said you have until Monday to leave this place.”
“It can’t be,” she said, her voice a barely audible, desperate whisper. “Twenty six months of research…” she paused. “Gone? Why?”
“Someone saw us together last night.” He spoke in a low tone. It was at that moment that his conversation with his friend Jon flashed through his mind. Tim had been too preoccupied to think about it any further; he had not given him a straight answer yet. But now, he didn’t have much choice. If he wanted to give her a helping hand, he had to go back to being an outlaw. Just when he was about to speak, though, he felt her body shaking violently in his embrace. Josephine dropped her arms, as if they had no strength left in them and rested her head on his chest, breaking down into loud, wailing sobs. Tim ran his hands up her back and buried his face into her hair. Understanding that anything that he might say would not ease her pain, he stopped his hands at her shoulders and gently pushed her back.
“Look at me,” he urged, his voice deep and raspy. Josephine opened her teary eyes and rolled her gaze up, as two tears streamed down her cheeks. “It’s not over yet.”
“Of course it’s over,” she sniffled. “God, it hurts so much.”
“How much money do you need?” He asked in a calm and steady voice.
“It’s not just the money, Tim.” Frustration was lingering in her broken voice. “Look around you. We need tons of equipment; a new building. Where are we going to find all those things?”
“Who knows how much this stuff costs?” Tim posed one more question.
“Dr. Silver.” Josephine replied. “She oversaw the purchases.”
“Tell her to gather receipts, invoices: the works.” His commanding tone brought on an inquisitive look. “Tell the troops that they’re getting a few days off. We’re going to New York.”
“New York?” her voice suddenly went up several octaves. “Why? Why do we need to g…”
“Just do as I say,” he interrupted. “I’ll wait for you in my car. I’ll explain everything on the way over.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sitting in the driver’s seat of his Impala, Tim was still trying to recover from the shock of the imminent shutdown of the facility. Feeling guilty over the fact that their date had cost Josephine her job, he was desperate to help her out. It occurred to him that he would very soon have to deal with a number of questions that would put him in an impossible position, but he had already made up his mind. He would be honest with her. Lying to Josephine could destroy the single relationship in his life that he thought was worth fighting for and he was not going to make such a mistake.
Still, even in this dire situation, he had something to smile about. She had not reacted at all, when he informed her of the reason why Laura stopped funding her research. To him, this was a clear sign that she had not regretted going out with him. It also proved that she meant what she said the night before, when she spoke of living a normal life.
“Alright,” Josephine said with a sigh, opening the passenger door,
as he started the engine. “Dr. Silver will contact me with the details. I also told my colleagues that they can take a rest. Why are we going to New York, Tim?”
“I’m meeting someone there tonight.” He murmured, driving off. “He’s an old friend of mine.”
“He’s not by any chance a millionaire, is he?” She inquired with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“He’s a burglar, just like me.” He groaned. “He’s a hacker; he knows his way around alarm systems. He also knows the guy who killed Jitter.”
“Ok, stop the car,” Josephine asked urgently, her voice riddled with panic. Tim then took his foot off the gas and eased on the brakes, bringing his car to a halt on the right side of the road outside the compound. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me,” Tim declared, turning his head to the right to face her. “I want to help you out, Joey.”
“By committing a crime?” she wondered, her voice high-pitched as she opened her eyes wide. “What about your parole? You could go to jail for that! And…” She faltered, leaning over him. “Paul’s killer? Who is he? What do you know about him?”
“He’s a hitman,” he responded sharply. “His name doesn’t matter. It’s the guy who hired him I’m worried about. He’s going to help me find him. Losing your job was my fault. I need to do something.”
“No, it wasn’t,” she whispered. “I chose to go out with you. Ok, she found out about us a little too soon, but she would have found out eventually. I refuse to live in fear because of some spoiled rich girl.”
“Thank you,” He said in a low and tranquil voice, as he smiled down at her. “That’s a great thing to say. But I’m still doing this. I have no other way of helping you.”
“You would do that?” She looked at him in wonder, her lips shaking as she gazed deep into his eyes. Finally she was able to form the words, “For me?”
Tim merely nodded, sucking in yet another deep breath. Josephine squeezed her eyes shut, circling her thin arms around his neck. She put her head on his shoulder, pulling him closer for a side hug, as he wrapped his right arm around her back.
“Hey…” Tim whispered, “It’s no big deal. Why not do it for a good cause, right?”
“It’s a huge deal.” Josephine leaned back and corrected him. “It’s the best thing anybody’s ever done for me.”
Her words brought a bitter smile to his face. Tim averted his gaze from her and looked at the snowy road up ahead, biting his lower lip.
“There’s something else you don’t know about me.” He spoke, attempting to banish the sadness that turned his voice into a low, trembling whisper. “I’m an orphan; I don’t even remember my real parents. They got killed in a plane crash when I was six. But I do remember my grandparents; my mom’s parents. The court deemed them unfit to raise me and my sister. My grandmother was unstable. She spent most of her life in mental institutes. They found her hanging by a rope, back in 2004. My grandpa was a nice guy. He was a drunk, but he was cool. He loved her a lot. About ten years ago, he began suffering from Alzheimer’s. All he did near the end, was ask why she wasn’t at home. Every time I said she was dead, I saw him take that loss like a car wreck.”
“Oh, my God…” Josephine whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Joey…” He spoke in a much clearer voice, once more turning to her. “Don’t be sorry. Just find that damn cure.”
“We had a breakthrough, two days ago.” Josephine informed. “I can’t get into details; I’d show you more if we were in my lab, but we managed to reactivate inactive brain neurons. It lasted about thirty seconds. I guess it’s a start.”
“Good job.” Tim gave an appraising nod. “Is that why you guys were cheering?”
“Yeah,” Josephine snorted. “It’s the closest thing we have to a cure. It’s going to take some time, but I think we are on the right track.”
“Well, you’d better be.” He laughed. “Can we go to New York now? I forgot to mention that my sister Caitlin lives there.”
“Great!” She chirped. “I’d love to meet her. Big Apple, here we come.”
Chapter Nineteen
A few minutes outside of New York, Tim called Jon and arranged to meet with him late that night. He also wanted to see Darryl Kirkland, Paul’s assassin, but Jon maintained that he had tried to reach him over the phone several times and he was unreachable. At any rate, Tim had to visit his friend’s apartment in Queens, in order to give him his answer about the burglary in North Haven. He wouldn’t discuss it over the phone and they would afterwards talk through the details of the operation. As much as he hated it, Tim would have to swallow his impatience and wait for at least another day to get some answers from Kirkland.
Caitlin and Josephine seemed to get along very well, right from the start. Helped by the fact that they had each taken classes under Jitter, as their college professor, they soon started sharing stories from his classes and college in general. Tim felt left out, but he didn’t mind. Seeing them in such great spirits pleased him. More importantly though, it gave him the necessary time to focus on the task at hand: breaking into a luxurious mansion in one of the most expensive suburbs in New York was the most challenging job he had ever planned. He would have to consider many factors: time; surrounding houses; traffic; and especially, the police presence in the area. Despite all the adversities that he would have to face, he knew that he could rely on Jon. He was a fantastic driver and an exceptional hacker indeed.
The elevator door in Jon’s old apartment building closed heavily behind him, as he stepped out of the empty car on the second floor. Tim knocked on his friend’s door, wondering at the same time why he had been living in such a cheap, neglected building. Even the brown, wooden door was faded and a few chunks of wood were missing.
“Heeey, big Tim!” Jon cheered, answering his door. “How are you, man? Come on in.”
“Hi, Jonny,” Tim winked at him, following him into his small living room. “You’d think that a kickass burglar like you would live in some big, fancy apartment. Why the hell did you choose this dump?”
“It doesn’t attract too much attention.” Jon pointed out, brushing past him. “Take a seat.” He continued, pointing at the couch to the right.
“So…” Tim started, seating himself next to his friend. “I’ve been thinking. Let’s do it.”
“Yes!” Jon punched the air. “That’s what I’m talking about, baby!”
“How much money are we talking about here?” Tim asked, slightly leaning over him.
“I don’t know, Tim,” Jon shrugged his shoulders. “I can’t know for sure. But, he’s been dealing drugs for years. There must be more than one million in his vault.”
“One million dollars?” Tim opened his eyes wide in surprise.
“Yeah, maybe even more.” Jon said with a nod. “I need to talk to you about that security system. You’ll have to do all the heavy lifting all by yourself.”
“What else is new?” Tim smiled. “Man, I’ve been dying to meet that Kirkland guy.”
“Damn…” Jon groaned, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I forgot to mention. I found him; he’s on his way over.”
His friend’s last sentence lifted a weight off his shoulders. Tim sighed in relief, leaning his back against the couch.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while” he stated, running his hand through his hair. “When did you guys talk?”
“About fifteen minutes ago. He lives nearby.” Jon said. At that moment, his doorbell rang. Tim arose to his imposing, 6’2” stature, eagerly anticipating to finally meeting the mysterious hitman. When Jon answered his door however, he realized that he was nothing like he expected: Darryl Kirkland was much older than him and quite short, not more than 5’7” and rather thin for his build.
“Darryl, this is my good buddy Tim. Tim, this is Darryl.” Jon introduced them. “You guys need something to drink?”
“I’m good, thanks.” Darryl said, off
ering his hand to Tim. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hey, Darryl,” Tim replied, his voice dropping down an octave as he shook his hand. “Just some water for me,” he added, turning to his friend.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Darryl spoke in a hoarse voice.
“I was going to say the same thing,” Tim claimed, as Jon made his way to the kitchen. “My friend here says that you’re one of the best in the business. Does it pay well?”
“That depends on the client,” Darryl responded, his voice calm and steady. “I charge the rich a hell of a lot more. Why?”
“Just curious,” Tim maintained, looking down into his cold, grey eyes. “Was your last client rich?”
“No.” He was quick to reply. “She wasn’t rich, really.”
“She?” Tim squinted at him. “Your last client was a woman?”
“That’s right.” Darryl gave a decisive nod. “Our mutual acquaintance said she was a scientist or something.”
The assassin’s answer baffled him. It contradicted his theory of Burt Maddox being behind Jitter’s assassination. The number of questions in his mind was growing by the second, as he recalled the fatal night. Still, deep down, Tim knew that he would not get many more answers by being polite. Darryl Kirkland was a total stranger to him, but he had met a few men like him in the past. No assassin ever betrays his client’s trust. It’s a matter of professionalism.
Tim took a big step towards him, maintaining eye contact. Quickly lifting his arms, he grabbed him by the collar of his coat. He spun him around once and threw him against the wall to the left. Darryl landed hard on his right hand side, letting out a scream of agonizing pain. But Tim was not done with him. He sprinted across the living room, as Darryl rolled onto his back. Stopping directly over him, Tim bent his knees, clenching his fists and sat on Darryl’s chest. Tim threw his right arm, rotated it mid-way and laid a powerful jab in the eye of a stunned Darryl.