by S. J. Bishop
But all of a sudden, a chill ran down my back. I looked up, scanning the room. I had the feeling that someone was watching me, but that was impossible. Franklin hadn’t come back home. I would have heard the door opening.
I shook my head, dismissing the thought. I was just being paranoid. But the feeling didn’t go away. Goosebumps decorated my skin. I scanned the room once more, but all I saw were Frankie’s toys tucked into a chest, half-hidden in the shadows. I got up and turned on all the lights, driving away the gloom.
From what I could tell, nothing looked out of place. Just to be safe, I checked the closet, but I found no boogieman.
“It’s all in your head, Lauren…” I whispered to myself, rubbing my arms to try to keep warm. I grabbed one of Frankie’s blankets and draped it over my shoulders. It was only then that I realized that the window lock was open. Had it been open before?
I walked up to it, my heart beating fast.
As soon as my fingers touched the cool glass, someone grabbed me from behind.
Before I could put up a fight, my body had already crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
21
Franklin
Ned, show Franklin what you found.” Cruz walked up to the young man, who was crouching in his desk chair in what looked like a rather uncomfortable position.
He looked up, his eyes wide and uncertain. “Oh!” he said after a moment, shuffling through a stack of papers he had on his desk. Some of them were printouts of maps; others were loose leaflets with scribbled notes. None of it seemed to make any sense. “So… um… I’ve been trying to track down… what was his name?”
“Dean Moss,” I said as I glanced at Cruz, raising an eyebrow in question.
“Don’t worry, he’s the best of the best. We hired him right out of MIT. Graduated with a 5.0 GPA.”
I narrowed my eyes in envy. I had applied to MIT, only to get rejected. Later, when I had gone to college, I’d quickly learned that I was a horrible student. I flunked out, enlisted in the army, and now, here I was.
Ned ran his fingers through his messy brown hair. “Ah! Right, right!” he exclaimed, pulling out a large roll of paper. He jumped from his chair and rushed over to the conference table, spreading it out.
“So, Dean is pinging most of his stuff from Germany, but the pings are too consistent.” He pointed to Berlin. “But since you said that Dean is a puzzle-man, I figured there had to be something we were missing. He sent you a postcard, correct?”
I nodded, my arms crossed over my chest, trying to figure out where he was going with all this.
“So the first ‘non-postal’ postcard was introduced in Austria in 1869.” He ran his fingers through the map. “I started to play around with that number, thinking it was important. At first, I tried to find other key events that happened during that time, but then, it hit me – coordinates. Now, 18-69 gets you to the Arabian Sea, right off the coast of India, specifically Mumbai. I checked our databases, and there are a few warships out there, so I figured it would be too tricky for him to go there.”
“Right. So did you try to invert the coordinates?” I asked, my eyes roaming the map. I stepped forward, letting my fingers trace out the path. “Norway…”
“Specifically, an Unnamed Road in Sjøvegan. I thought that seemed like the perfect place for someone to hide, but there are absolutely no signals coming from that location… it’s technologically dead.” Ned added, “But the name interested me.”
“How so?”
“Well, in Sjøvegan, the first three letters look so foreign, but then it’s followed by ‘vegan,’ a word that has become so popular. You know, I actually tried it for a day or two, but I just couldn’t do it. Do you know how hard it is to give up scrambled eggs in the morning? There really isn’t a proper substitute.”
“Ned.” Cruz stepped in, halting his side note.
“Right. Sorry.” He pointed back to Berlin. “As it so happens, Berlin is the world capital of veganism. It has the most vegan restaurants per square foot than any other city.”
“So we’re back to square one?” I felt like we were just going in circles. “I hope you didn’t tell me all this just to admit you don’t have a lead.”
“No, no. I have something, just let me explain.” He grabbed a printout of the postcard I had sent Cruz. “Since the clues were all pointing back to Berlin, I decided to have another look at the postcard. At first, it seems like a normal painting by an unknown German artist. Unknown – Unnamed. I went back to Sjøvegan and found the exact address for the coordinates. There are only three houses on that road. The third most vegan city is Warsaw, famous for its Mermaid, and would you look here.” He held up a magnifying glass, concentrating it on the left-most corner of the painting. “A mermaid hiding in the waves. It’s very subtle, but it’s there.”
I waited for him to come to a conclusion, but he just looked at me, a look of excitement in his eyes.
“Don’t you see it?” he finally asked.
“What?”
“He wasn’t trying to point us to his location – he was sending us a message. Warsaw. He is trying to declare war. The birth of World War III.”
My eyes widened.
Just then, my phone started to ring. When I pulled it out of my pocket, there was an unknown number on the screen. Quickly, I rushed over to my desk and plugged it into the recording software. Ned was already behind his desk, trying to figure out where the number was coming from.
“Hurry up before they hang up!” I snapped at him.
“Just give me a second…” he mumbled before his expression fell to one of horror. “Oh… you aren’t going to like this.”
“Out with it!” Cruz slammed his hands on the desk, causing the man to jump.
Unable to speak, he turned his monitor toward me. The pin on the map was directly over my house.
Without a moment of hesitation, I answered the phone. “What the fuck have you done?” I growled, certain that Dean would be on the other side of the line. “I swear to God if you did anything to hurt them… I’m going to kill you… like I should’ve done ten years ago.”
“My, my, is that any way to treat your guest? I must say, this is a lovely home you have here.”
I ground my teeth.
Cruz was already making phone calls, commanding our units to surround the house, to stop Dean in his tracks.
“Now, if I had to guess, you’re at HQ, trying to find where I am. You’ve probably deciphered my little postcard, but it hasn’t done you any good because here I am, with your girlfriend unconscious on the floor and your son in my arms.”
“Don’t you fucking touch him!”
“Too late.”
“What do you want?”
“Hmm, what do I want? It would be nice to get back those ten years I spent rotting in prison, but since you don’t have a time machine you could lend me, I don’t think that’s a viable request…”
“Why are you trying to hurt them? It’s me you’re after.”
“Because this is much more fun. I love to see you squirm, and sure, I could do that by torturing you for a while, but this is much, much worse, isn’t it? You’ll blame yourself for the rest of your life. You’ll think that it was your fault – and it is. You should’ve protected them. You should’ve made sure they were safe, but you couldn’t. How can you look in a mirror and call yourself a man when you can’t even fend for your own family?”
Rage surged within me, threatening to consume me.
“But I also have other plans… I’ve been experimenting… homemade bombs are surprisingly easy to make, but you need a vessel to properly set them. You need someone who won’t arouse suspicion. Someone who blends in. Who better than a mother and a child?”
“You bastard! You wouldn’t!”
“Care to test that theory?” With that, he laughed and hung up the phone.
The second I heard the dial tone, I ran out the door.
I had to stop this.
22
&
nbsp; Lauren
I woke up to the smell of mildew. It was strong and pungent, overwhelming my senses. Quickly, I pinched my nose, trying to block the smell, but when I moved my arm, I was met by a scratchy fabric underneath my body that I did not recognize.
Looking down, I saw that I was lying on an old, floral print couch that looked as if it had jumped straight out of the 60s. There were questionable stains all over the cushions.
It was only then that my mind caught up. I realized with an acute stab of fear that I was no longer in Franklin’s home. I shot up, stepping away from the couch. Rotten pieces of wood creaked underfoot. Nearby, a rat scuttled along the wall, causing me to scream in horror.
Where was I?
I ran to the door and yanked on the handle, but it was locked. “Someone! Please!” I screamed, banging on the wood, but it would not budge. I put all of my strength into trying to break the door down, but all I managed to do was bruise my shoulder.
With no choice, I gave up.
There had to be another way out. I checked the windows, but they were all locked, some of them nailed shut. The glass was thick, and where it wasn’t, sturdy boards blocked the way. Whoever had brought me here obviously didn’t want me to get out.
Panic was starting to consume me. Where was Frankie? What had that bastard done to him? Would Franklin rescue me a second time, or would I die in this dingy apartment?
As I wandered around, I came upon an old study. There were books strewed about as if someone had been desperately trying to find something. Pages were torn out and crumpled all over the floor. Blotches of ink stained the covers of old tomes.
Oddly out of place was a computer, positioned perfectly upon the desk. It looked new and shiny, like an artifact from the future transposed into the past.
Hesitantly, I walked up to it. As soon as I was a few feet away, it came to life, the screen blasting forth a bright ray of light. At first, it was white, but soon, an image came into focus.
It was my kidnapper!
He smiled at me. “Hello. It’s good to see that you’re finally awake.”
“What have you done to my son?” I demanded.
“Such a motherly question.” He grinned. “I admire that. A mother hen trying to protect her chick. Don’t bother, it won’t do you any good. You can’t do anything to save your son. The only person who can is Franklin.”
“Why are you doing this…?”
“Why? That’s a good question. Why does anyone do anything? Why does evil exist if it was created by an almighty entity that could’ve made everything perfectly good?” He folded his hands together in a contemplative gesture. “Some might say that I’m sick – that I derive pleasure from making other people suffer, but I’d say I’m just a businessman. VanGuard is a very successful company. Each year, it collects billions of dollars in revenue from its clients. If I broadcast its epic failure to the world, then their stock price goes down, people stop paying for their services, and other companies are allowed to jump into the market. You’re simply a catalyst in my plan. I’ve already spoken to the Chinese government, and they’re more than happy to support me. Soon, I’ll be in control of some of the most important people in the world. I’ll be able to do whatever I want…”
I listened to his tyrannical rant in a state of shock. No one could be this greedy and power hungry, could they?
“You can’t…”
“That’s a funny expression. I can’t, or I shouldn’t?” he taunted.
“Please… I don’t care what you do to me, just let my baby live.”
He chuckled. “Oh, but he’s another vital part of my plan, which is purely personal. You see, I’ve devised the perfect little dilemma for Franklin. Will he save his son, or will he save you? Here’s the catch. Your son is out in the countryside. If the bomb rigged to the building explodes, he’s the only one who dies. On the other hand, if your bomb goes off, then a major part of London goes up with you.”
My eyes widened with horror. “Did you just say… bomb?”
“Oh, did I forget to mention? There’s a bomb in the apartment, sweetheart. Don’t bother looking for it; you won’t find it.”
“You can’t do this!” I shouted, but before I could say anything else, the laptop flicked off.
I grabbed it, smashing the keys, hoping for a response, but it refused to operate.
Just then, I heard something.
I stepped toward it, my heart beating fast.
Tick, tick, tick.
23
Franklin
As I drove home like a madman, all I could think about was my family. If I ever saw Dean, so help me God, I would kill him. I wouldn’t think twice about picking up the heaviest object I could find and bashing his skull open.
The rage I felt nearly clouded my vision. I struggled to focus on the road as my mind was trying to process a million other things. I had beaten Dean before; I could beat him again. But it felt like he was always one step ahead of me. I was losing this uphill battle, and I dreaded the thought of defeat.
I pulled into the driveway. No one was there. Where was everyone? How had he escaped with a whole VanGuard unit guarding the place? It didn’t make any sense.
For the first time in many, many years, I grabbed the gun under my seat. It felt heavy and wrong in my hands. Still, I carried it through the house, looking for signs.
It was empty. There was no trace of him or of what he had done to my family. Furious, I kicked the coffee table, sending it flying into the wall. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t – I wouldn’t – let him win!
I stepped into the nursery one more time. Surely, he had been in here. It was only then that I noticed my laptop on the changing table. How had I missed it during my first sweep? Was I losing my touch?
Putting down the gun, I opened it. Before I could even type in my password, the screen flickered, replacing my wallpaper with Dean’s face.
“What the fuck have you done?” I demanded, knowing full well that he was watching me, just as I was watching him.
There was an amused look on his face. To him, this was all just a game. A way to torment and taunt me.
“You keep smirking, and I’ll blow that smirk right off your face.”
“I think you might have more pressing issues to worry about,” he mused, motioning to the bundle of blankets in the middle of the floor behind him.
Frankie!
“What have you done to my son?”
“Nothing – yet,” he said. “I’ve come only to give you options. On the screen, you will see two addresses.” I committed them to memory right before they could disappear. “I hope you got them because you won’t see them again. One of these will bring you to your son, the other to your… let’s call her girlfriend.”
I listened, knowing I depended on every word he said.
“Both of these locations are rigged with bombs. Given the timers I set on each of them, it will be impossible for you to save both, so the choice is yours. Save your son and only your son, or save your girlfriend and part of London. The choice should be obvious.”
“You’re a monster…”
“Maybe, but even monsters have their glory and victories. You call me evil, but I just want to play a game.”
“Murder is not a game!” I growled. “This is my family we’re talking about!”
“Oh? But going to war and shooting at other people – legalized murder – that’s okay? That isn’t a game? It’s justified by what, exactly? We honor great war heroes for massacring thousands upon thousands of people, but I decide to kill a few hundred, and suddenly, I’m the bad guy. Tell me how that makes sense, SEAL.” With that, he disappeared from the screen.
In my rage, I threw the laptop as hard as I could, watching it shatter. If only that could be Dean’s head.
Without a moment to spare, I ran back to my car and floored it, already dialing Cruz’s number.
“Listen to me. You need to head to 88 East Manning St. It’s in the countryside. You
need to go there quick. Dean’s trying to put me in a Trolley dilemma, but he’s not going to win. I’m not going to let him win.” I was seething with anger. “It might be a trap going for Lauren, but I don’t care. I can’t let him blow up half of London just to get his revenge.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“And don’t send out a unit. Something is wrong. No one was here when I arrived.”
“What? But I dispatched them over an hour ago.”
“I think he’s gotten to them somehow. He’s up to something bigger. I don’t know what it is, but we can’t let him do it. We have to stop him.”
“Don’t worry. No one is going to die if I can help it.”
He hung up. I threw my phone into the passenger seat, flying through the city.
Incoming call! My car announced.
I answered it, half-expecting to hear Dean’s voice.
“Franklin?” It was Ned.
“You’d better be calling with good news because I don’t have time for anything else.”
“Yes! I’ve found out where he is. It was a very small trace, but I was able to pinpoint his location. He’s on the move.”
“It could be a trap. A decoy to get us off course,” I said, thinking that Dean was capable of anything at this point.
“Does he have a twin?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, I hacked into the webcam on his computer. You know, for some sort of computer genius, it was really easy to get in there. It was almost like he wanted me to see him…”
“What’s he doing?”
“Just sitting there, holding a knife in his hand.”
“What’s the knife look like?”
“Um… It’s got this shiny purple handle. It’s a switchblade. The blade itself is kind of rusty.”
I ground my teeth. “He’s taunting us. That’s the same blade I used ten years ago. The one I plunged into his chest – but obviously not deep enough because had I killed the bastard, we wouldn’t be in this nightmare right now.”