The Unknown Soldier_a Joaquin Serrano Novel

by Jace Killan

  Mayhew was right, though. These were a select few trades from thousands. Most of the others had made money and there were companies that had lost and gained, resulting in wins for Northern that didn’t parallel any theory Jared held. But Jared had to get to the bottom of it. Finally, his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.

  In the morning, he awoke with determination. He shook off the slumber and found his phone at the side of his bed. He dialed Benjamin Quinn from college. The two had stayed connected over the years and most recently a couple years ago when Jared needed a job. Quinn had been nice but explained that the SEC wouldn’t give Jared a second glance with his misdemeanor, expunged or otherwise.

  “This is Ben.”

  “The great Bendino.” Jared stood. “Jared Sanderson. How’ve you been?” He had a sudden and urgent need to pee.

  “Oh hey, man. I’m good. Hey did you ever find a job?”

  “Yeah, thanks. I did. With Owen Mayhew actually.” Jared decided to sit on the pot so he could continue the conversation while relieving himself.

  “Ha, Owen huh? That guy’s a joker. How’s it been?”

  “Really good actually. In fact, almost too good if you know what I mean.”

  There was a brief pause. “I see. What can I do to help?”

  “Could we meet?”

  “Sure. You know I’m in Washington now.”

  “No, man, well that’s great.” Washington? Dang, Jared hadn’t planned on that. At least he kept his cell number. “Moving up the bureaucracy?”

  Benjamin laughed. “You could say that. What if we met in the middle, say in Philadelphia?”

  “That’d work. When’s good for you?”

  “Monday morning would be best. I’ll text you an address.”

  “Great. See you then.”

  After showering, Jared went down the stairs. His wife wore a loose pair of grey sweats. As usual she’d been up earlier than him, worked out, made breakfast, and got the kids off to school. He shrugged off his nagging conscience that chastised him for not spending more time with his children.

  He’d done much better over the past few months, but this week had been busy with a series of new requests by Joaquin and Jared’s undying need to properly vet each request. Not that his concerns would receive any attention.

  Jared wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her neck.

  “Hey stranger.” She giggled playfully. “You probably shouldn’t do that, I think my husband will be home sometime this week.”

  Jared whispered in her ear, “He’s a fool and doesn’t deserve you.”

  “You’re probably right.” She leaned into his embrace, exposing more of her neck.

  Jared nibbled. “You should totally bang me. Your husband would never know.” Jared surprised himself. They hadn’t ever deviated from their simple routine. He wondered if his wife would think his antics kinky and get turned off.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. Maybe he’s been cheating on me and that’s why he’s never around.”

  Jared spun her to look in her eyes. When he knew he had her attention he said, “I would never...”

  She smiled. “I know. But maybe I got a boyfriend to keep me company when you’re gone.”

  “Ha ha, you’re very funny.”

  She only shrugged.

  “But hey,” he said, “I do have to go to Philly tomorrow for the night.”

  She cocked her head. “Really? Why?”

  “It’s kind of a business thing.”

  “Kind of? Like you and your secretary?”

  “I don’t have a secretary and if I did...”

  “I’m just teasing you. Sure, go ahead. I hope you enjoy your vacation. I’ll be here doing the laundry and putting the kids to bed...”

  “Stop it.” He pulled her in close. “I was going to say, let’s get your mom to watch the kids and you come with me.”

  She smiled big at that notion but then frowned. “My boyfriend and I were going to do things, you know?”

  “I see. Is he as good looking as me?”

  She stepped back, eyeing Jared up and down. “Turn around.”

  He did.

  “Hmm, I do love that white-boy butt of yours.”

  “So he’s black?”

  “I think he’s Puerto Rican. But we don’t talk a lot.”

  Even though Jared knew she was teasing, he couldn’t help but feel the rage grow. She’d never cheat on him, but the thought of someone else even having feelings for his wife caused his chest to swell.

  “You’re jealous.” Emma laughed.

  “Maybe.”

  She gave him a hug. “C’mon upstairs, let me bang that jealousy away.”

  Jared made his way down to Pennsylvania Sunday evening. He had gone into work to make sure everything was set for opening bell on Monday. He didn’t like to work Sundays, but he wasn’t really sure how his meeting with Benjamin would go. Whistleblowing on Northern could have long lasting consequences. Maybe the SEC or even the FBI would show up and seize the office with all its files. He played through the ordeal in his mind, imagining the worst.

  Jared phoned Mayhew to thank him again for the stock and let him know that he was going to visit some family and wouldn’t be in until Tuesday. It hadn’t been an all-out lie. Emma went to visit her mom in Pennsylvania, then she’d leave the kids and come over for a romantic rendezvous. The thought pushed all the uncertainty in Jared’s mind away and replaced it with a happy peace.

  Emma had always been Jared’s rock. She supported him and never questioned his efforts—an entirely different relationship than he had witnessed growing up.

  Jared’s mom lambasted his father at every opportunity. She made it her main objective to fix him and his many faults.

  His father had been a brilliant man with a genius but eccentric mind. He received considerable attention from Jared’s mom for being overweight. She’d regulate his meals, count his calories, and forbid sex unless his father stuck to her regiment. Often times, he’d bum cash from the kids, swear them to secrecy then sneak away for a burger while his mom tried to fix a client in a life coaching session.

  The marriage ended in divorce and his father moved away. Jared admired his dad who passed away a few years later for having the balls to leave. And he often wished he could get out of the relationship with his mother, too.

  Emma on the other hand adored Jared. She didn’t seem to care if he weighed 150 or 300 pounds and most of all she showed her appreciation for his ability to provide even though he’d filed bankruptcy and had lost his job.

  Now, they had worked their way out of the hole. They put money aside and started saving for a house of which they intended to pay cash. And he’d got the carrot. The stock Mayhew gave him had substantial value, and would make a pretty penny when that company decided to go public.

  But his financial situation would change dramatically when he blew the whistle. And what would happen to Mayhew? His friend had been exceptional to work for—kind and caring. If Jared allowed himself to admit it, Mayhew was the best boss he’d ever had—Jared the Brutus.

  Jared had never been better off and he was about to throw it all away. His mother would call it sabotage. She accused Jared’s father of sabotaging everything good in his life. Maybe Jared hadn’t fallen far from the tree.

  No. His mom was crazy. And once again her programming messed with his head.

  Jared copied some files onto a flash drive and selected a few client files of companies he suspected were off shore shell companies that would lead back, eventually, to terrorist cells.

  He left Northern in his paid for, charcoal BMW. He’d probably have to give that up soon. Not worth worrying about. He swallowed his anxiety and drove on toward Pennsylvania. He’d have a nice intimate getaway with Emma, then the meeting with Benjamin and see where things went.

  Cesar Perez had accepted the last minute assignment. He landed a couple hours ago at the Philadelphia International Airport. He rented a car, checked into a hotel ac
ross town that he wouldn’t stay at, took a bus to the other side of town, stole a car, bought a piece, and now waited, parked outside a hotel where his contact Junior said the target had a reservation. Quite a busy afternoon.

  The target, according to the picture on his burner phone, was a middle aged white man. Cesar wondered what the idiot had done to piss off the cartel. Just after 5:00 PM the target arrived in a dark grey BMW. He left the car running while he went into the hotel lobby, returning a few minutes later with a pamphlet. Then he drove around the side of a hotel to where a dozen or so cottages sat recessed from a walkway lined with flowers and rich vegetation.

  Cesar parked the stolen vehicle nearby, in view of the cottage’s front door. The target unloaded a bag and disappeared inside the suite.

  His heart raced as he thought of killing the man. It would be his thirtieth hit but most of his targets had been gang bangers and dealers. This hit was way out of line from his normal routine. But it paid well. He’d make eight grand on this one. A quick score in less than twenty-four hours.

  Cesar’s orders were specific, kill the target, make it look like an unrelated gang hit. Target the car and no other casualties. Confirmation of death required.

  The BMW would fly as a gangbanger’s ride. Rattle the car with bullet holes. Police would think that the poor white guy’s ride was mistaken in some turf dispute. A simple in and out. All the while Cesar would be presumed across town at the Marriott. The next day he’d catch a plane back to LA.

  A woman appeared on the walkway heading his way. Cesar took a moment to admire her body, rethinking his plan. Maybe he’d break into the target’s room and make it look like a robbery gone wrong. He could finish within an hour then find himself a woman like the prostitute on the walkway. He had expected to travel to Tijuana for some action, but Junior had sent him elsewhere.

  The slender black woman turned for the target’s cottage. Lucky bastard to get a piece of that. She wore a red miniskirt and matching heels, bookends to long gorgeous legs. Cesar’s libido stirred as he imagined himself with such a beauty. But he shook away the thoughts of pleasure. He couldn’t be distracted from his mission. Business first, pleasure later.

  She knocked on the door. It opened revealing Cesar’s target who hurried the prostitute inside though he scanned the area for any onlookers, or maybe his disgruntled wife, before closing the door.

  Cesar settled into his seat for the long night. He had been on dozens of stakeouts and none of them fun. His mind turned to the money he’d get for the hit and the woman he’d hire with some of the proceeds.

  “Damn girl.” Jared pulled his wife inside the suite and stole a quick look outside in hopes he wouldn’t see anyone nearby. The thought of others checking out his scantily dressed wife made his stomach turn yet exhilarated him at the same time.

  “What are you doing?” he laughed.

  She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “What, haven’t you ever had an affair before? This is how you do it. Don’t you like my dress?” Emma turned around showing off her tight miniskirt and white top. Even after five kids, his wife turned heads. But Jared had never seen her dressed this way. She had always dressed modestly, worried if her shirt dipped too low or skirt revealed too many curves. Obviously she enjoyed some anonymity in a foreign city.

  “Aren’t you married?” Jared asked.

  “Yeah, but my husband doesn’t mind.” She shrugged. “In fact, I think he likes it.”

  Jared found himself nodding. “Yes, he does.”

  The couple spent a memorable night together. It reminded Jared of when they’d first married with so much hope and excitement for the future. They had found each other, two souls in a world of eight billion people. Jared knew it the moment he first saw her. She had taken his breath away then and she took it now.

  There also existed an underlying knowledge that the two had been through hell together. They had supported each other and loved each other through thick and thin. So many memories of this woman now part of him. Together, they were better than their sum.

  Cesar awoke at the sound of the BMW driving by his parked car. He hadn’t even realized that he had drifted to sleep. It had been a long uneventful night.

  In the early morning light, the BMW looked black, but it was the mark. Cesar turned the car on and hurried it behind the BMW. He reached under the bag on the seat next to him, feeling the automatic SK47. The BMW turned onto the road and headed east.

  It stopped at a red light, a quarter mile down the road. Cesar followed, pulling alongside in the turning lane. He simultaneously lowered the passenger window while extending the SK47 toward the shadow in the darkened BMW, and pulled the trigger.

  The window shattered from the first few rounds, revealing, not the target, but the beautiful prostitute from last night. Before Cesar could react, her lovely face changed to a bloody horrific mess. Cesar’s heart sank and he sped away in fear.

  38

  The cell phone rang, startling Jared from the place between sleep and awake. He answered the blocked call with a curt, “Hello.”

  “Mr. Sanderson?”

  Jared sat up. “Yes.”

  “Sir, this is Officer McNeal of the Philadelphia Police Department.”

  “Is there something wrong?” Jared was out of bed and getting dressed. His heart pounded and he looked outside, wondering if his wife had left for a jog. But the car was gone which meant she’d probably forgone the jog and went for coffee.

  “Sir, are you at your home in New York?”

  “No, I’m in Philadelphia. What’s going on?”

  “I’m afraid there’s been an incident. Is your wife Emma Sanderson?”

  “Yes?” Panic overtook him. “What’s going on?”

  “Sir, there appears to have been a shooting...”

  “Is Emma okay?” Jared screamed into the phone. He searched his wife’s clothing strewn across the floor for her keys. He found them.

  The officer fought back emotion in his voice, “She was deceased when we arrived at the scene.”

  Jared sat on the bed. He wanted this to be a dream, some made up fantasy.

  “Mr. Sanderson, I’m sure this is very difficult for you, but we’d like to send a car by and bring you down to the station. Where are you located?”

  Jared mumbled the name of the hotel and the address. Within a few minutes a police cruiser arrived outside Jared’s suite. He threw on a t-shirt and grabbed his wallet then walked out the door. The officer invited him into the back seat.

  He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. What would he do without her? What of his kids? How could he tell them? Would the younger ones even understand?

  Then his thoughts turned inward, taking jabs and punches at his self-esteem. Why her? Why had he not gone to get coffee for her? His selfishness had killed her. Why had he insisted she come with him? He wanted a little action and that put his wife in harm’s way.

  Or maybe this was karma for his turning on his own company. Why did he have to be so damned self-righteous? He should just enjoy the ride, not try to play FBI. His mom was right. He had sabotaged the best things in his life and now lost his best friend.

  The tears started then and didn’t stop when they arrived at the police station. Nor when the officers accompanied him inside, patted him down for safety, and invited him into a room with no windows, only a metal table bolted to the floor—they suspected him.

  The two officers introduced themselves, but Jared didn’t pay attention to their names. They were cordial and asked if Jared wanted anything.

  “Can I see her?” he asked.

  The officer shook his head. “You don’t want to do that, son.”

  “What happened?”

  “She received multiple gunshots while she was parked at a red light.”

  The tears returned, though he tried to suppress them.

  The other officer leaned in, “Do you know anyone that might want to hurt your wife?”

  Jared shook his head
.

  “How’s your relationship?”

  He tried to answer but couldn’t.

  The first said, “What about you? Is it possible they thought you were the driver?”

  “Me?” At first thought, it sounded as foreign to Jared as someone wanting Emma dead. But the officer’s question pricked Jared’s overactive mind. Could this possibly be related to his planned meeting with Benjamin from the SEC?

  If right in Jared’s assumption of the scheme, it involved a lot of money. Hundreds of millions for now, even billions if it continued unchecked. If right.

  Either he’d uncovered a conspiracy or Northern had experienced a series of lucky events that had made them a lot of money.

  What if it wasn’t luck? Was it enough money to kill for? If the scheme did exist, then Emma wouldn’t have been the first to die. More than sixty died in the string of terrorist attacks that netted the firm millions from their currency speculation. Several died in car accidents from the automobile malfunctions, also netting the firm millions.

  There were too many coincidences.

  Jared had been the target not Emma. They probably had his office bugged, even his cell phone, maybe his house and car. Of course they’d know about the planned meeting with Benjamin. They’d wait for an opportune time and hope to kill him, not Emma. Or they killed Emma to get to him.

  But who were they? ISIS?

  Through all the stress and pain, his mind reached a moment of clarity. They included Joaquin and Mayhew. Rage filled him now, his mind turning to revenge. If he had a gun, he’d find them both and kill them for taking away his wife, the mother of his children.

  His children. They only had him now. And they didn’t even know.

  “Can I get my phone back?” Jared asked. “I haven’t told my kids.”

  “Of course. Just a couple more questions.”

  “That’s fine. But I don’t know anything else. You guys should be out there looking for the bastard that did this.” He jabbed a finger at the metal table, vision blurred.