by Ho, Jo
With nothing else for it, I led them back onto the road, where we continued walking. I tried to make light of our situation.
“It’s nice to stretch our legs after being cooped up on the train so long.”
“Yeah. Exercise. Woo.” Chase’s feigned enthusiasm raised a few brows.
“Well we know one thing for sure. You can’t lie worth a damn.”
We walked for several hours, until our legs felt fit to drop. I was about to announce tha we camp down for the night, when a vehicle approached from behind. Ignoring my earlier road safety lecture, I leapt into the road and started waving my arms. The vehicle kept approaching without altering its speed. Worried the driver might not see him, Chase flashed the iPad screen in their direction. That did the trick. The vehicle — a truck — slowed and an unruly head stuck out of the window.
“You folks broke down?”
She was around thirty, with the bluest eyes I had ever seen and a friendly smile the size of Texas. Freckles lined her nose, and the sun had lightened her already blonde hair. I didn’t read any malicious intent in her eyes, but more than that, Bandit had already made his way below the window and was trying to lick her fingers.
“Wow, you are a gorgeous thing aren’t you?”
Bandit woofed, which caused Chase and I to share a smile. The driver was too busy playing with him to notice.
“We’re stranded more like. Got off the train and was hoping to buy a car.” I trailed off and gestured at the disused car lot.
“Old man Stanton closed that down when he retired some eight years ago now.” She frowned, studying his face. “You from around here?”
I stiffened, weary about giving my information away to a complete stranger. Guess the years of living in a city had taught me some things after all. I smiled and said, “No, but I visited as kid. We have family nearby.”
She kept smiling, though a knowing look appeared in her eyes. Wherever they were from, they weren’t up for swapping life stories. “My name’s Sam, Sam Dubeau. I’m heading up to Middlesex. Can I offer you folks a ride?”
I hesitated, but Bandit answered for them with another loud woof. Before the humans could respond, he went around to the passenger side and scratched at the door until Sam opened it. Bandit leapt inside and settled next to Sam, who grinned and stroked the wacky dog. “Your pet seems to like me.”
Chase clearly didn’t like to see the other woman’s hands on Bandit or him sitting in the car alone with her. She ran around the vehicle and leapt in after Bandit, leaving me standing alone on the road.
“Can I pick up a car there?” I asked.
“There isn’t a dealership for another twenty miles, but I know someone who’s selling a truck, if that’ll do you? I could drop you there.”
I hesitated, unsure.
“It’s on my way.”
I finally smiled. “That’ll be great. We’d appreciate it.” I climbed in after Chase and offered a hand to Sam.
“My name’s Charlie, and this is my daughter Bella. The furball here is Ed.” Chase shot me a look, but otherwise kept up the pretense.
“It’s nice to meet y’all. Where have you come from?”
Sam spoke to them both, but aimed the question at Chase. Chase glanced at me and hesitated for a split second before answering.
“Washington, DC.”
“You folks aren’t in politics, are you? Cause I gotta say, I’m not terribly fond of politicians.”
I offered my first genuine smile. “No. Not a suit among us.”
“Well that’s a relief. So, you’re here visiting family?”
“Sort of.” I wanted to keep this as brief as possible. I also wanted to dissuade this whole line of questioning. Options flew through my mind until the perfect solution came to me.
“My father passed away. I’m here to settle up the estate and deal with the funeral.”
Sam’s eyes widened in sympathy. The joviality left her face and took on a respectful expression. “Sure am sad to hear that. My thoughts are with you and yours.”
I glanced down as if to hide a tear. Surprising me, Chase leaned across and took my hand.
“It’s alright, Dad. Pops wouldn’t want you upset.”
So I was wrong about her ability to act. She seemed to have the perfect mixture of empathy and sadness. Even Bandit joined in, blasting a sigh out of his nose and lowering his head onto our clasped hands. If it wasn’t in bad taste, I would have laughed.
CHAPTER 74
SULLY
We drove in relative silence for the next hour — relative in that there was no talking. Sam, however, sang along to each song that played on the country radio. She was a hearty singer and kept a good melody with an impressive memory for song lyrics. I had to stop myself from joining in a few times, because I felt this was an intimate thing to do. More importantly, Emma was the only woman I had previously sung for.
We drove past a small town, with barely four shops on Main Street. All were closed up for the night. Out here in the sticks it was a complete contrast to the bright lights and sounds of New York. There were no overnight food joints here, no late opening bars where one could drink themselves into a stupor only to stumble home at first light.
At last we pulled up to a long and winding drive. The name on the mailbox read “Warrington.” Sam switched off the ignition and climbed out.
“You guys wait here. I’ll fetch Warrey.”
Moments later, she returned with a man built like a brick house. With checked shirt and ripped jeans, he wouldn’t have looked amiss on the cover of GQ — if GQ were doing a blue collar special. I didn’t know why, but Warrington’s good looks made me anxious.
The other man’s hands were covered in oil. He wiped them onto his clothes, but managed to smear a line of black over his face. I elbowed Chase even as I began to feel her smirk. Warrey eyed the group suspiciously.
“Sam tells me you’re on the lookout for transport?”
I nodded, then reached out to take Warrington’s hand. We shook, but Warrington held on a moment longer than necessary, sizing me up. I extracted my hand and had to force myself not to wipe away the grime that now covered it.
“Well, let’s not waste time.” He gestured for us to follow him to where a truck waited. The paint job was peeling, and a few dents covered the body, but the defects seemed superficial.
“Had it six years, but since business is booming, I treated myself to a present.”
I looked over Warrington’s shoulder to see a brand new Chevrolet. At least it wasn’t the convertible I was expecting.
“That’s a nice looking ride. How much you want for this?”
“Two grand,” came Warrington’s instant response. Sam’s reaction reflected what I was feeling. She simply dug her elbow into his ribs. Hard. Warrington flinched and stepped out of arm’s reach. “What’s your problem?”
“Two grand and he can have my truck!” Sam exclaimed. “Are you crazy? This isn’t how you do business. These are good, honest folk.”
I cringed inwardly at her blind faith in us and halted her defense with a hand on her shoulder. “My offer’s 800, take it or leave it.”
Warrington narrowed his eyes at them. “As I understand it, you don’t have any other options. 1500.”
Not to be outdone, I stared him down. “How bout I just pay Sam to drive us.” I turned to Sam. “What do you say? I’ll give you 200 just to get us there.”
Before Sam could reply, Warrington stepped in and stopped her. “Fine! 1000 and you get off my land.”
I grinned at Warrey, who didn’t bother to hide the glower he was sending my way. “Nice doing business with you.” Forking over the cash, I climbed into the truck to examine my new ride. Inside, the vehicle fared better. The upholstery was fine and everything seemed to be in working order. This wasn’t a bad deal, not a bad deal at all. When Bandit and Chase settled beside me, Sam leaned in through the window.
“Guess I’ll be seeing you then?” She gazed at me a split seco
nd too long to deny the interest simmering in her eyes. I could feel a jolt run through me. No one had looked at me like that since Emma, but I quickly pushed the feeling down. Now was not the time even if I could see her again. It was too soon.
“I doubt it, but it was great to meet you. Thanks for your help with the truck.” To her credit, she didn’t seem phased by the rejection, though I couldn’t understand the sudden disappointment I felt. Sam gave Bandit one last pet, shot Chase a smile, and nodded at me.
“You folks take care now.” She turned and walked back to her own vehicle. I watched until Chase issued an impatient sigh.
“Are we going or are you just gonna stare at her butt until it’s gone?”
Cheeks flushing bright red, I started the engine and peeled out of there.
CHAPTER 75
THE MERCENARY
Looking down at his tablet, The Mercenary watched the video clip for the hundredth time.
Shaky footage started playing (the filmer wasn’t much of a cameraman), as a busy food hall came into view. Mountains of delicious looking platters were attacked by greedy tourists, heaping food onto their already overflowing plates as the filmer, “xxGetGud420xx” judging by his handle, droned on in the background, explaining what he had already eaten and what he would be tackling next. The Mercenary found it a disturbing sign of times that someone so clearly lacking in brain cells, with zero charisma, could have a YouTube following of thousands. Frankly, he would pay just to shut the kid up so he wouldn’t have to hear that monotonous voice again. The kid was deliberating over the hot wings and whether he should go for BBQ instead, while The Mercenary was wondering if the Boss would object to an unauthorized hit, when cries of alarm rose up from the crowd. The camera swung 180 degrees, the footage blurring until it auto-focused on the scene ahead.
There, on the ground, convulsing violently… Alpha.
The Mercenary watched as Sullivan administered aid, while that skinny streetkid screamed at him. She had dyed her hair and cut it, but he saw straight through the disguise. The Mercenary froze the footage on the girl’s face: her mouth was open in a perpetual scream, eyes wide with fear. This wasn’t the emotion of a kid who was just worried about a normal dog. No, this was the terror of someone who had already bonded with Alpha and knew how special he was. It was enough to make The Mercenary scream, himself.
Thanks to Getgud, The Mercenary was able to quickly determine where the action was taking place. Caesar’s Palace. And not even the flagship casino, but its lesser-known, smaller cousin in Atlantic City. A part of him was impressed with their ingenuity - The Mercenary had cut them off from Sullivan’s funds after all - though his team had already confirmed the trio hadn’t had much luck scoring cash, as a hack into the hotel’s security feed showed, they hadn’t tried their luck on the tables or slots. Probably worried that a kid and her dog would be too conspicuous. Sensible really, but unluckily for them, The Mercenary’s high-tech network of eagle-eyed IT geeks had spotted Getgud’s video within minutes of it being uploaded.
One short flight later, and The Mercenary was stabbing his fork unenthusiastically into his own plate of food at the buffet. Wearing a new disguise as a Mexican tourist, The Mercenary had questioned the hotel staff and customers discreetly, as protocol required, but he already knew Sullivan & co would be long gone.
The last twenty-four hours had been spent fruitlessly searching bus garages and train stations for any sign of them. He had exhausted every possible lead bar one, which is how The Mercenary found himself now standing inside 30th Street Station in Philadelphia. It was a long shot, and a ways away from Atlantic City (for that, he was grateful). He glared at the bronze statue of an angel in front of him. The embossed plaque beneath it read: Angel of the Resurrection by Walker Hancock. Created to commemorate the 1,307 Pennsylvania Railroad employees who died in World War II, it was apparently the artist’s favorite piece of work. The Mercenary thought it overwrought and distasteful.
He stormed through the Art Deco styled hall, ignoring screaming children with their harassed parents. Their screams seemed to echo in the grand hall, something which displeased The Mercenary no end. Why did architects never consider these things before they designed their buildings?
Reaching the bank of ticket booths, The Mercenary made his way to each one, catching his reflection on a wall of glass. This afternoon he was dressed in a police uniform. It offered some benefits; the crowds parted like a wave, the public obeyed and never questioned his authority. In short, it made work like this far easier.
He took out a wanted poster his people had created using Sullivan’s driving license, a recent photo Dr. Robins had supplied of Alpha, and a mockup of what the girl now looked like. With this, The Mercenary began questioning each ticket operator. It wasn’t until he reached the sixth one that he caught a lead. The guy, a spotty, nerdy type who barely left his basement room by the looks of things, remembered Sullivan. Something about him being edgy and jumping to conclusions over a standard fare enquiry. He also remembered the girl. Said she was cute, but seemed way too young for him.
The Mercenary wanted to know what train they had gotten onto, but the useless operator couldn’t remember, and made excuses about the amount of traffic that came his way. He did remember that they had some time to kill and had taken off to mosey around the nearby shops.
The Mercenary took a seat on a bench and made a phone call.
“Control, HS 031290 requesting assistance”.
Within moments, the log of the operator’s ticket sales over the last two days was downloaded onto his phone…
CHAPTER 76
THE MERCENARY
Black as night and just as stealthy, the pilot steered the black-ops helicopter, not onto a heliPad as one might expect, but into a retail car park.
A stunned late-night shopper loaded with bags froze midstep, staring as the alien aircraft landed beside her car. Surprised, she lost her grip on the shopping. The bags dropped by her feet, spilling their contents. Oranges rolled across the tarmac in all directions. She watched in fascinated horror as one bright orange bumped into the military boots that had descended from the helicopter.
Boots which now flattened the fruit, leaving a sticky mess of pulp and juice on the ground.
The shopper’s mouth snapped closed in shock, but she said nothing. Lowering her gaze to avoid eye contact, she scrambled around for her groceries but made sure she kept the black-clad man in her line of sight.
Single-minded, The Mercenary marched towards the supermarket entrance, caring nothing for the stunned glances cast his way. This particular part of his mission wasn’t of a classified nature. The Mercenary glanced at a Swiss Army watch on his wrist. Time was of the essence, and too much of it had already been wasted.
A family of five exited the store just as The Mercenary arrived at the doors. Their chatter faded instantly. Except for the youngest, a three-year-old with sticky fingers and cheeks smudged with chocolate, too young to recognize danger when it was before him.
“Copter!” he shouted.
His Mom shushed him, instantly sensing the coldness emanating from The Mercenary. “Hush babe. Let’s just get to the car and clean those hands of yours.”
“But I wanna see ‘copter!” He squirmed and tried to get down, but Mom clung to him tightly. Dad patted his son’s shoulder, steering the shopping cart away.
“Last in the car doesn’t get any ice cream!” At that, the two other kids made a mad dash away. The Mercenary tossed a disdainful glance their way as he stepped beneath the glowing Walmart sign.
CHAPTER 77
THE MERCENARY
It was a good thing Walmart had security cameras that his geeks could hack into, or The Mercenary might have missed this very important stop.
After he’d located the salesboy who had advised the girl on her recent purchase, The Mercenary left the store with his own bag of goodies. Once again, he ignored the incredulous looks thrown his way, striding back to the waiting bird. Jumping in, h
e slid the door closed, banging on it two times to signal the pilot. The two had worked together on many missions and developed a streamlined method of communication.
The blades quickly whipped to life, and within seconds, they were airborne. The Mercenary leaned back and allowed the tiniest of smiles. While others hated the rocky motion of the aircraft, The Mercenary thrilled in it. He loved anything that resembled danger, and had since he was a child. He remembered it was something his mother had worried about, this constant attraction to danger, but his father, a strict and successful corporate lawyer, had praised what he had considered his son’s edge. Of course, this very edge would turn out to be their family downfall. The Mercenary frowned, snapping back to the present, surprised at the visit down memory lane.
Somewhat angrily, he removed the iPad from the shopping bag and turned it on. Cross referencing a handwritten list of apps that the salesboy had scrawled down for him, The Mercenary began downloading the listed apps. It took only minutes to install them all. When the first app opened, he felt his stomach plummet as the welcome greeting flashed onto the screen.
Hello! Welcome to Speak,Spell, and Read, your one-stop app to teach your child how to speak, read, and write in two easy steps!
The Mercenary’s breath hissed out of his lips. They were teaching the dog to communicate.
CHAPTER 78
CHASE
Open green expanses passed by as the truck rolled past with a comforting motion. We’d been going for a couple of hours now, and Sully hadn’t spoken a word. Suppose I shouldn’t have teased him about Sam, but honestly, if you’d seen the way he was ogling her. He was like the drooling cat in those cartoons, watching and waiting until the oblivious mouse went scrambling past.
Bandit lay next to me, snoring softly, the iPad nestled under his chin like some kind of high-tech security blanket. Earlier, he had told me how he’s waited a very long time for people to understand him. Now that we had a system going, he didn’t want to leave anything to chance and made sure the iPad was always in reach — just in case. The smooth rocking suddenly made way to a bumpier ride as Sully swung a left. I looked out across the dense forest around us and frowned.