Headhunters

by Charlie Cole

  Jessica and I hit the doors and burst out upon the street. To my right I could hear the wail of police sirens. I saw a squad car change lanes as traffic struggled to get out of his path. They were close. I looked in the opposite direction and two black Ford Tauruses wound their way toward us. Kendrick… probably Brock and Vaughn.

  Jess offered me her keys.

  “You want to drive?” she asked.

  “Yeah… let’s go.”

  I ignored her keys and ran out into traffic, flagging down the drivers as I went. Horns erupted in a blaring cacophony. I dodged through one lane, Jessica just behind me. I stepped into the next lane and had to put my hand on the bumper of one car that nearly hit me. Again they laid on their horns. We were stopping traffic. I could see the squad cars, nearly on us now, but mired down in the stalled line of cars. Kendrick’s vehicles had suffered the same fate.

  At the third lane, I found what I was looking for.

  “This is it! Get in!” I called to Jess.

  I ran to the door of the racing green Mini Cooper and tapped on the window with the pistol. The driver, a young blonde with her hair up in a ponytail looked over at me, eyes wide, frozen in fear. I opened the door for her.

  “Step out, please,” I said.

  Her mouth was moving, trying to say something, an excuse, a question, I couldn’t be sure.

  “Thanks,” I said and dropped in behind the wheel. Jessica entered the Mini from the other side.

  “Well, this is a side of you I’ve never seen before,” she said.

  “I’m just full of surprises.”

  I revved the engine, let out the clutch and steered around the car in front of me. I caromed off the car to my right, then accelerated between the two lanes of vehicles. I saw Brock in the black sedan in the oncoming lane and appreciated his look of shocked anger as I passed him in the Mini, inches from his window.

  At the next intersection, I skidded into a right hand turn and accelerated into the stream of cross traffic. I clutched, shifted, accelerated and steered around cars. I checked the rearview mirror once, changed lanes and checked it again. First one, then two squad cars had turned the corner behind us, lights flashing angrily, the sounds of their siren seeking us out. Jess was looking back.

  “All of that for us?” she asked.

  “It’s nice to be wanted,” I said. I spun the wheel and made a sharp left hand turn into an alley, cutting off oncoming traffic. I gunned the engine and accelerated, feeling the well-oiled power of the engine. I couldn’t see the squads behind us.

  I downshifted and slowed at the end of the alley. I turned, going with the flow of traffic, trying to blend in with the other cars.

  “Do you think we lost them?” Jessica asked.

  “God… I hope so,” I sighed.

  “What happened back there?”

  “I think someone knew we’d be coming to the bank,” I said. “I think they knew and decided to call and tip them off. They tried to detain us so that the police could come and make the arrest. The police and Kendrick’s people.”

  “Kendrick? Randall Kendrick of Blackthorn?” Jessica was piecing it all together.

  “Kendrick knew what I had in the safe deposit box…”

  “Which is?” Jessica asked.

  I looked at her and she stared at me expectantly.

  “It’s a Presidential pardon,” I said. “Randall and I each had one given to us when we started Blackthorn. It’s our ‘get out of jail free’ card. It’s the only thing that can protect me from this frame up.”

  Jessica laughed but there was no humor in it.

  “What?” I asked.

  “That’s great. That’s just great for you,” she said. “Do you have one of those for me too? Because the last time I checked, I was up to my ears being an accomplice with you and so far today you’ve assaulted a security guard and stolen a car… and it’s not even lunchtime yet!”

  Damn it. She was right.

  “You’re right,” I sighed. “I don’t have one for you, but it gives us leverage if we need it and right now, we don’t have a lot to work with.”

  I steered around a minivan, accelerated and felt the rush of speed as we hurtled down the road. I saw the brake lights almost too late. Traffic was at a dead stop up ahead.

  “Simon… SIMON!” Jess cried. She clutched the dash, fearing the worst.

  I gutterballed the car around the right side, nearly scraping the tires on the curb and burst through the intersection before traffic could cut us off. When we were past the intersection, I turned back to her.

  “That was selfish of me,” I said. “I was thinking of myself and I apologize. Please believe me when I say that I know that I’m not the only one in danger here. I’m trying to protect you. I’m trying to protect my family. I know that.”

  “I know… I know you do,” Jess conceded.

  I checked my rearview mirror and I couldn’t see any squad cars, no black sedans. Then my cell phone rang. I fished the phone out of my pocket, set earpiece and connected the call.

  “Simon Parks,” I said.

  “Hello, Simon.” It was Max. “Busy?”

  “You could say that.”

  “I just wanted to call you to extend my deepest sympathies…” Max said.

  I flashed a look at Jess beside me.

  “What are you talking about, Max?”

  “Don’t you know? You seem to know everything that goes on at my company. I thought that certainly you’d know exactly what I was talking about.”

  I’d had enough of the games and the lies and the bullshit.

  “I don’t know. Tell me!”

  “Tom Ellis is dead,” Max said.

  My heart lurched into my throat. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Tom—? Wha—?” I tried to speak, managed to only breathe, “How?”

  “I stabbed him in the back,” Max said. “Just like you did to me.”

  I felt like I was hyperventilating, unable to catch my breath. Sweat was forming on my forehead and I felt flush.

  “You killed him?” I asked. Jessica’s eyes were wide in terror beside me.

  “Actually, Randall killed him,” Max said. “The letter opener didn’t finish the job, so Randall shot him in the head with his agent’s gun. He was rather put out that you were maligning his good name.”

  “You sick son of a bitch…”

  “Now, now, Simon. There’s no need to be impolite,” Max was saying. “I decided after you left my office that if Randall really was out to get me, he’d have no reason not to tell me after you tipped your hand. When Tom Ellis came to me crying about the files missing, I saw an opportunity. An opportunity for Randall to prove his veracity. Was he really with me? Or was he a Fed?”

  I could see where this was going and it turned my stomach.

  “You found Tom…”

  “Tom wasn’t very good at hiding,” Max supplied. “He used a credit card to rent a car only a few blocks from the office. Randall ran the credit records and his people found the car in less than an hour with the OnStar system. We had a talk with Tom. I want you to know, Simon, that his last thoughts were of you…”

  I cursed and steered the car through another corner. I was angling up and back, up and back, working my way through the city, trying to avoid any direct route where we could be noticed.

  I thought about Tom. I’d left Jess’ car for the same reason that Tom got caught. With GPS tracking, they would be able to track us wherever we went.

  “Randall finished Tom. Thus, Randall isn’t the Fed you claim. The only threat to my organization is you, Simon. And in case you were wondering, you’re fired.”

  “You’re not funny, Max. Did you call the bank?”

  “Oh, the bank… that was a pleasant little surprise from Randall as well. He said you might be going there. I golf with the chairman of the board at the LaSalle. I called in a favor. Shame that you should be so disrespectful to his employees.”

  Max was referring to the guard. This wasn�
�t a happenstance phone call. He was tracking our moves.

  “Put Kendrick on the phone,” I said.

  I heard the phone being passed and the brief exchange between the men.

  “Hello, son.”

  “Randall, Max doesn’t know what kind of man you are.”

  “But you do,” Kendrick said.

  “I do. You may have fooled him, but you haven’t fooled me,” I said. “I’m not going to be backed into a corner by you.”

  “You don’t have much choice, son. You decided you didn’t want to play on my team, so don’t cry when I run over the top of you. And one other thing, Simon. That pardon you worked so hard to get… It won’t mean a damn thing if I put a bullet through it.”

  I thought about that. He’d seen the surveillance feeds from the bank. He’d seen me put the pardon in my jacket pocket. The pardon was in a pocket over my heart. If Kendrick put a bullet through the pardon, he’d kill me and my pardon would be of no consequence. I couldn’t argue that.

  “The DHS files will be discovered in a few hours at your house and then news will hit the airwaves that you sold secrets to an unknown terrorist group.”

  “Which one?” I asked. “Who are you selling the files to?”

  “Oh, give me a little credit here, Simon. I can’t share everything with you. Not anymore…” Kendrick said. “You know, part of me wishes you’ll come through this alive, but I’m afraid that’s just not going to happen. But still, good luck, son… and good-bye.”

  The line went dead and I pulled the earpiece and threw it down beside me.

  “God damn it!” I screamed. I shook the steering wheel with rage.

  “He’s dead? Tom’s dead?” Jessica asked, already knowing the answer. “Did they kill him? They killed him didn’t they? Oh my God… oh my God…”

  She was crying and I saw her, no… felt her slipping over the edge into hysteria. I had no right to overreact just then. Not with Jess there. My therapists had said that you need to let your emotions out, but I know that in any relationship, only one person at a time can overreact. It’s the other person’s job to calm down the first. I knew I’d be okay. I wasn’t so sure about Jess.

  “He’s gone, Jess,” I said and took her hand. I looked at her, back to the road, then back to her. “He’s gone. Not me. Not us. We’re still here. We’re still okay.”

  Jess tried to nod, wiping away her tears.

  “We’re going to be okay,” I said.

  I’d no sooner said the words and a navy blue flash roared over our heads, followed by the wump-wump-wump sound of beating rotors. I ducked instinctively and we saw the shape of the police helicopter lifting up in front of us, turning, getting a visual on our location and the nose dipping as it approached us again.

  “Aw, shit…” I said.

  I heard the sirens in the distance and realized that our situation had gone from bad to worse. The police helicopter meant that there was no way for us to get lost in the traffic. It meant that police cars would approach from all sides, all units responding to the chase. Somehow, someway, we needed to get the hell out of there.

  A moment later our rear window exploded in a shower of glass. I seemed to hear everything at once, the gunshot, glass breaking and Jessica’s short scream. I looked over and she had her hands over her head, trying to somehow make herself smaller in the seat. I reached over and pushed her head down.

  “Stay low,” I growled and looked for our attacker. It didn’t take me long to find them. Two black sedans appeared on either side of us. To my left, I could see the passenger’s window rolled down and an agent training a gun at me. I couldn’t see his eyes behind the Ray-Bans, but his intent was obvious.

  I slammed my foot down on the brake and the two black cars passed us. The driver to my right didn’t anticipate the move and swerved into the space my car had been a moment before. The agent in the left car had to jerk his arm back before it was crushed between the two vehicles. I took the opportunity to PIT the car to the left.

  The PIT or Pursuit Intervention Technique had become popular with most police departments. I learned how to do it in my Blackthorn training. I nosed between the two cars again, just until my front bumper was even with the back tires of the left car. Then I gently steered left, into him, pushing his back end out to the left. The tires lost traction and the front end of the left car abruptly turned right, smashing into the Taurus on the right side, jamming them both into a line of parked cars. The vehicles slammed together with a horrific crunching of metal. I accelerated away from the pileup and watched the cars block traffic in my rearview mirror.

  At the end of the block, I saw a parking garage for a hotel. I spun the wheel and pulled in. Inside the garage, we could not be seen by the police helicopter and it very well might give us the time we needed to get away. I grabbed a ticket from the gate and pulled into the lot. I pulled into the first place I could find.

  “Let’s go,” I said. And we did.

  I shoved the Beretta into the back waistband of my pants and walked with her into the hotel. We took the elevator to the lobby then came out by the front desk. People were milling around, checking out of the hotel. I got an idea.

  When my consultants left a project site, often they would just take the airport shuttle back from the hotel. It saved them a lot of time and hassle. I looked out the front doors of the hotel. A shuttle bus was waiting, loading passengers. I saw the driver enter and walk to a coffee pot in the lobby. He’d be a few minutes. I walked to an ATM machine in the lobby and made a withdrawal of $350 from a cover account I’d kept active. It was the largest amount the bank would allow. I thought about Ellis for a moment getting caught because of his credit card and vowed not to let that happen to us. I folded the stack of bills in half and shoved it into my pants pocket. I took Jessica’s hand and we walked out of the hotel and stood under the awning, out of the hot sun and out of sight of the police helicopter. I heard a police siren wail in the distance and pushed it out of my mind as we entered the shuttle.

  I let Jessica lead. I knew the day had been rough on her. She picked a seat in the back and we sat down. I looked at her hands.

  “You’re trembling,” I said.

  She flexed her hands and when she found they were still shaking, she folded them in her lap.

  “I’m sorry about today,” I said weakly.

  Jessica nodded, but kept looking out the window. I didn’t have words for her. There was no way to explain away what had happened. I had to resign myself to that.

  The shuttle started to move forward and eased away from the curb. The driver navigated us out into traffic and Jess and I couldn’t help staring at the wrecks of the two black Ford Tauruses. Agents stood on the curb being checked by paramedics as we rode past on the other side of the road.

  I turned back to Jessica watching them, then shifting her gaze to me. Her look made me uneasy and I looked away.

  “How long have you… been doing… that?” Jessica asked me.

  I looked down at my hands and thought about the things that I’d done. The good I’d worked for, but also the pain I’d caused and wondered at how it all balanced in the end.

  “Six years,” I said.

  “And you learned how to do… that?” she asked.

  I couldn’t tell if it was disgust in her voice or fear or anger or all of those.

  “Yes…”

  Jessica sat and stewed on that for a while, looking out the window as the city passed by. I wondered in the wake of her silence. Did she hate me now? Was I too close to what her Frank had become when he’d gone off to war? Because I was fighting a war too. I was fighting a war here, at home. Was I lost to her? I decided that whatever the answer was, I could accept it. I’d have to. For me. For her.

  “Can you teach me?” she asked suddenly, her eyes leveled at me, more deadly than the bore of any gun I’d ever looked down.

  “What?” I asked. “I’m sorry. What do you mean?”

  “Teach me to fight like you… to driv
e like you…” her voice had a steely edge to it now. “Don’t get me wrong. It scares the hell out of me. The things that you do… but I don’t like the way I feel. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I don’t want to be afraid.”

  I nodded then. That I could understand. I may not have understood or agreed with teaching someone like Jessica, someone innocent, someone so civilian to get involved in a war like this, let alone to fight in it… but I understood not wanting to be afraid.

  I could have found a million reasons to say no, but none of them held the weight of her statement.

  I don’t want to be afraid.

  I thought about what she had said, but outside of her context. How would we ever be in that place again? That place where we did not have to be afraid. I’d been there… only weeks before… at the birthday party… Christmas before that… the months working in the office. How would we ever get back there?

  And the answer to that was in what Jess had said as well. By fighting for us, that was how we would not be afraid. By learning and re-learning those lessons of war. By taking that war to Kendrick and Max Donovan. That was how we could be unafraid.

  I let the thought settle in my head. Later there would be time to fight and to fear and to flee, but not now. Now we had each other. We were in the eye of the storm. The calm when all hell broke loose around us. We could tremble for fear of the storm, or we could find shelter.

  I smiled at Jess and for the first time since getting on the shuttle, she smiled back at me. I brushed her hair away from her face.

  “How did you get this scar?” I asked. I pointed to a faint scar that ran along her right eyebrow. You could barely see it unless you really looked. Or were really close.

  “I was jumping on my bed,” she laughed.

  “When was this? Last week?” I asked.

  She punched me playfully.

  “No, I was six,” she said. Then sheepishly, “I was playing Wonder Woman.”