by David Beers
“Everything you wanted was upstairs,” the vents above whispered. The other was with him, even if not walking beside him.
Maybe the other was right, but that wasn’t the case any longer. Christian needed a new room, one that he hoped was already prepared.
He took a right and found himself in an undiscovered hallway.
One room lay at the very end. Christian could read the words carved into the stone: The Mercenary.
He walked forward, not pausing and having no fear about what may lie inside. He had gone into many rooms like this before; it could be nothing like the floor upstairs.
He twisted the doorknob and walked inside.
The room was empty. The walls were simply slabs of stone without a single digital panel on them. Nothing stood on the floor, not even the statues that he had seen inside Speckle’s room. This place was unfurnished, without a single clue about the mercenary.
“What the hell?”
The other walked up from behind him.
“Are you forgetting how this works, Christian? You can’t simply arrive and think your mind has figured out the world. What do you know about this man? Anything at all? Anything that might help your mind create something?”
Christian stood dumbfounded, not turning around.
Why did he come here? He had forgotten how this worked—or not thought about it at all. Which was ridiculous because this was his mind, his home. He couldn’t forget the rules, yet here he was, standing in an empty room without a single clue as to who he was chasing.
“Am I losing it?” he asked the empty room. “Am I not even understanding my own mind anymore?”
The other was silent. The entire mansion was silent in its answer.
The animal sat in his hotel room, the lawyer’s laptop open in front of him. The room’s television was on, though the volume turned very low. He had it on the news but paid no attention to it. The animal was looking through the properties that Charles Twaller owned. He had many, and all across the country. Warehouses as well as homes.
The animal didn’t want to check each one. That would be too much, taking too long. He would, of course, if it was his last resort, but he hoped there would be a quicker way.
“The man has been identified as Charles Twaller …”
The animal’s head turned slowly in the television’s direction.
“Not much is yet known about Twaller …”
The animal grabbed the remote from the bed and turned up the volume.
“What we understand so far is that he was involved with Luke Titan, and kidnapped two FBI agents that were chasing Titan. Both FBI agents are receiving medical attention in Washington D.C., and are expected to recover …”
The animal turned the volume back down.
He closed the laptop and placed it on the bed next to the remote control. The animal had been right about Titan’s involvement with the kidnapping. He didn’t need to kill Twaller’s attorney, nor hunt him, but didn’t know that until just now.
The Twaller path was clearly finished given what the television told him. He had two options. He could try to find the target through other means, or he could anticipate the target’s next move.
The two FBI agents.
That’s what all this was about for Titan—those two men. The animal didn’t understand why the target wanted them, and he didn’t care. If the agents were alive then Titan would return, and he would try to take them.
It felt odd, knowing that about the man he was going to kill. This target was focused, as focused as himself. The animal had killed countless people, but never someone with such dedication to an end goal.
He pushed the thought from his mind, the oddity of it shocking him like ice water being dumped unexpectedly over his head. That was not his way.
The animal would wait for the target to find the FBI agents, and then strike.
He stood and placed the few belongings he carried inside his backpack, then exited the motel. He was heading to D.C..
Chapter 16
“What are you going to do?” Christian asked.
He sat in a wheelchair, the doctors still not trusting him to walk yet. His wounds were healing, but slowly—mainly because he refused to stay in bed. Walking would be unbearable after a few minutes; his wounds would split open, the pain most likely driving him to unconsciousness.
Christian made Waverly come by the hospital before he went to the office; it was five in the morning and the sun was still beneath the horizon.
Tommy wasn’t here for this meeting.
“Call him off. This guy.”
“It can’t be done,” Waverly said.
“What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t work like that. It’s why I chose him. Once I made my choice, I knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything. I’d simply wait until Titan was dead. It took the decision out of my hands.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Christian said, not caring one bit who he was talking to—a janitor or the President, it was all the same to him.
“I wish I was.”
Christian stared at his boss; he’d been close to murder before—with Ted Hinson. Never this close, though.
“Come here,” Christian said.
Waverly stood from his chair and crossed the few feet between them. “What do you need?”
Christian leapt up, his hands wrapping around Waverly’s neck. He saw the surprise in Waverly’s eyes, but he threw his weight forward anyway, hoping to bring the man down.
The Director stepped back and flung Christian’s weak body to the ground. Invisible fire raced across Christian’s body as he hit the floor, and he let out a deep groan.
“Jesus Christ, Christian. What the fuck are you doing?” Waverly said. He was looking out the hospital room’s window, clearly hoping no one saw what just happened. He walked across the room and drew the curtains, then turned back to Christian. “What the hell was that?”
“You killed her,” Christian said, his words haggard and barely escaping his lips. “You killed her by calling this fucking guy.” His voice rose on the last two words, almost to a screech.
Waverly looked at him for a few seconds while Christian cried on the floor.
“You killed her. You killed her. You killed her,” he said over and over.
Waverly walked to him and sat down on the floor. He didn’t reach out to touch Christian, but was close enough that he could have.
“What do you want to do, Christian? Do you want to report me? I’ll give you the Attorney General’s number right now. Do you want to try and stop this guy before he gets to Titan? We can do that, too. Do you want to try and bring Titan in?” He paused. Christian rolled onto his back, pain bright across his face. He kept his eyes closed as tears slid down his cheeks. “I didn’t know what to do. I thought he had won, Christian. I thought Luke had killed you and Tommy. I thought it was my last chance to get him. And I fucked up. Bad. You tell me what you want to do and we’ll do it.”
“He’ll know,” Tommy said.
“Probably, but does that matter?” Christian asked.
“Yes. It will definitely matter if he knows we’re setting him up. Use your fucking head, Christian. He. Won’t. Come. Not if he knows we’re going to arrest him.”
The plan sounded insane and Christian sounded like he might be as well.
“Did you tell Waverly this?” Tommy asked.
Waverly had gone into the office, though Simone stayed with them. The three sat in Tommy’s hospital room, he in his bed. Christian appeared to be moving even more carefully than yesterday, which was odd given that his wounds should have been healing—Tommy said nothing about it, though.
“I haven’t told him yet. I’m going to, though.”
“Simone, what do you think?”
Their assistant was sitting on a chair against the wall. She’d been quiet so far; Tommy wasn’t sure if she was freaked out or was simply giving them a chance to talk.
“I think it’s crazy, but I think it could work.”
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“See,” Christian said, as if her opinion should be the end-all-be-all.
“Forgive me,” Tommy said, “if I have some reservations. Tell me why he would come for us. He just had us.”
“Because we’ll tell him to.”
Tommy wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Instead, his mouth hung slightly open with a string of spit connecting his upper and lower lips.
“What?” Christian asked. “You look like you just had a stroke.”
“I think I’m going to have one,” Tommy said finally. “We’ll tell Luke to come, and he’ll simply listen? Then when he does … What? We just arrest him?”
Christian laughed and looked over at Simone. His eyes were wild, as if this really was fun for him. In that moment, Christian reminded Tommy of The Joker. Never in his life did Tommy think Christian could find fun out of something this dark. Yet, there he was, looking at Simone as if they were both in on a joke.
“Yes?” Simone said, sounding like she didn’t fully understand his look either.
Christian shook his head, still smiling, and turned back to Tommy. “If Veronica is with him, which she won’t be, then yes we arrest him. If she isn’t, which is what will happen, then we let ourselves be taken.”
“And then what, Christian? What’s your master plan once Luke has us?”
“We wait on Waverly’s guy. We wait on him to show up.”
Tommy stared at his partner and thought, He’s finally snapped. He’s done. There’s no coming back.
“I’m willing to go after Luke,” he said, “but I’m not willing to commit suicide for him.”
“You’re not thinking. When Waverly’s man gets there, the rest of the FBI will make the drop on him. We’ll get everyone at once.”
“That’s how it’ll work, huh? You think Luke and this psychopath hunting him are just going to let the FBI trap them? If you haven’t told Waverly, it’s better that you don’t. He’s going to think the same thing I do.”
“And what’s that?”
“Someone needs to take your badge.”
“What do you really think?” Tommy asked once Christian had left.
“You both need some time off,” Simone said.
“That’s not a possibility, not with Luke still at large. What do you think about Christian?”
“He’s in a lot of pain, and not just physically. I think this might be worse mentally for him. He’s seen a lot, Tommy. You both have. The difference is, I’m not sure his mind can separate it any longer.”
“What do you mean?” Tommy asked.
“I didn’t know him back when you were dealing with Speckle and Hinson, before Luke cut him. From what I’ve heard, though, he put a lot of the blame on himself for everything that happened.”
Tommy glanced away as he thought about it. That was true. Christian had internalized all the death, all the things that happened to his family, and hefted the guilt onto his own shoulders.
He’d nearly killed Ted Hinson without true justification—before they had any evidence besides what lay in Christian’s mind.
“I think that might be happening now,” Simone continued. “I think his own suffering, combined with everyone else’s—it’s creating a storm, Tommy. One that he can’t see out of. One that he might not want to leave.”
“You think that’s what this crazy plan is about? Him wanting to stay inside that storm?”
“Yes. I do.”
“And what about me?” Tommy asked. “He’s saying I should let Luke take me too.”
“I’m not a shrink,” Simone said. “But I think sometimes, the storm might be too strong, and you don’t care who it takes, as long as it takes you as well.”
Christian held the phone to his ear. His hand was shaking and he couldn’t stop it.
“Dr. Hanson,” the man answered.
Christian swallowed, but said nothing. He gripped the phone harder, hoping his hand would stop. It didn’t.
“Is anyone there?”
Christian remained quiet.
“Christian …?”
His name hung in the air like a nearly weightless feather, slowly falling to the ground. If he didn’t answer? If he let the feather touch the ground and the doctor hang up?
You’re finally losing your mind, and if you don’t reach out to someone, you’ll never come back.
“Yes. It’s me.”
“Hey,” Hanson said. “Good. I’m glad you called. I’ve been thinking about you. What’s going on? Are you at the hospital?”
“Yes. I’m sorry it’s so late.” It was the first time he’d ever apologized to Hanson.
“It’s fine. You want to tell me what’s happening?”
“I ….” But Christian didn’t know what was happening. He didn’t understand it and couldn’t find the words to accurately describe it. He finally blurted out the only thing that made any sense. “Tommy thinks I’m losing my mind, and I think he might be right. I think he and Waverly might be right.”
“Why?”
“Why what? Why do they think it, or why do I believe them?”
“Both,” Hanson said.
“They think it because of my plan. Because I believe it’s a good idea to let Titan take us, and then follow him in order to get Veronica.”
“Are they right?”
Christian paused. He hadn’t voiced this before, hadn’t even truly thought it.
“Because Luke might kill me if he takes me, and I think I’m okay with it. I think it’s what I want.”
“You want to die?”
“Yes,” Christian said. He glanced to the hospital room door as if someone might be listening. This wasn’t the first time he’d thought about death. Back before Twaller got him, back before all these new scars littered his body, he’d sat in a dark bathroom and contemplated suicide.
Now he didn’t have to do it himself. Luke would.
“Why?”
“Because it’ll all end. All this pain. All this goddamn … I don’t know … horror. Because Luke isn’t going to be stopped and I’m tired of fighting him. He wants chaos and I’ve helped him create it. If I’m dead, I can’t help him anymore.”
The doctor was quiet for about half a minute.
“Will Waverly go along with your plan?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t strike me as the type of person to give up, Christian. That’s what you’ll be doing, if you go through with this. You’ll be completely giving up everything.”
“What if there isn’t anything to give up anymore? What if I already gave it all away?”
Chapter 17
The animal watched Christian Windsor leave the hospital. Windsor had been in there for over a week, and they were finally releasing him. He stood from the wheelchair, his body moving gingerly, then went to a black car that waited for him at the curb.
The animal watched him get in the vehicle, a red haired woman stepping in with him. The animal didn’t know her name and automatically discarded her. She wasn’t important to his plans.
Another man was already in the vehicle, a cripple. His name was Thomas Phillips, called Tommy by friends. The animal wasn’t as concerned with him. He didn’t think the target wanted Phillips as badly as Windsor.
Finally, one last person exited the hospital. He shook hands with a few of the medical staff standing behind the empty wheelchair, and then climbed in the black car himself. That was FBI Director Alan Waverly—the man who hired the animal.
A brief thought went through his head, wondering if Waverly would approve of his agent being stalked. It quickly dissipated into the ether of the animal’s mind, however. What the Director approved of no longer mattered. The only approval which mattered was the first one—the original approval which said the animal was to catch and kill the target. He could go about it however he wished.
The car pulled away, though the animal waited a bit longer before standing from his bench. His 24 hour watch would start very soon. The target was comi
ng, and then the animal could finish the job.
“There’s someone I need to find,” Christian said.
“Who?” Tommy asked.
“Someone from Luke’s past. I have to talk to her.”
“We haven’t already? We’ve pretty much spoken with everyone that’s ever had contact with him.”
“We didn’t know about her. I … I discovered her inside here.” He tapped a finger on his temple. “Her name was wrong, something my mind made up as a placeholder, but I looked her up last night.”
“Does Waverly know?”
Christian shook his head. “You’re the first person I’ve told about it. I started seeing her back in the warehouse, and then again in the hospital. I wanted to get out before I said anything.”
“Why do you need to talk to her now? We’re supposed to meet with Waverly to discuss this insane plan of yours today.”
“She’s a part of it, I think,” Christian said.
“How?”
He shook his head again. Christian could try to explain it, but he didn’t have the time, and even if he did, he wasn’t sure Tommy would understand any of it. He wasn’t sure anyone would, because it was truly just a story his mind was inventing.
Except, that wasn’t true. Not anymore.
Because Christian had done his research last night. The woman’s name wasn’t Brenda Manor; she was Jennie Goodrow. But, she had gone to school with Luke and been associated with him. She’d gotten in trouble with the law, too. Luke was never interviewed, never brought in by a single police officer. The woman’s parents had made the whole thing go away, but something had happened.
And his mind had known it, if not the details.
Christian was ready to die … but he also wanted to know what his mind was telling him. Maybe it could help him save Veronica.
“Tommy, I need you to trust me. I know something’s wrong with me. I know I’m not completely right. But I need to talk to this woman to understand what to do next. If Luke is going to come get me, this might be important. I don’t know why else my mind would show it to me.”