by Kane, Joany
Duke's attention is on the stars and not on Haley or his brother.
Haley moves next to Duke, leaning up against him. She grabs his bicep, impressed by what she feels. “The strong silent type, huh?”
Duke doesn't respond. Haley unbuttons her blouse, ready to take it off. Riker could care less. Duke won’t give her the satisfaction of even one glance.
Losing interest Haley heads for the door. “See ya inside, Riker.” Haley and Riker lock eyes, sharing a knowing look. Haley enters the cabin leaving Riker and Duke alone on the deck. Duke turns his attention from the sky to his brother.
“Is she coming with us?” Duke wants to know.
“Nope. I got what I needed out of her. Once I get my hands on one last stash, it's you and me, baby brother.”
Duke looks relieved. “Good.”
Riker puts his arm around Duke and says what he knows his brother wants to hear. “It's been too friggin' long since I've seen ya. After the score, it's gonna be just brother time. I promise you that.”
*****
Brent Langer, in his late twenties, with mid-western American farm boy charm, wearing a security uniform, nervously waits alone in an FBI conference room.
Brent removes a hand-written note from his pocket and reads it. Whatever it says, the words seem to have a calming effect on him. As he reads the note, Claire enters.
Brent fumbles the note as if he were just caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Umm, I was just reading a note.” He mutters.
“Not any state secrets I hope.” Claire muses.
Brent misses the jest. “Oh no, of course not, it's a note from my wife. Wishing me well today and reminding me of our anniversary.”
“How long have you been married?”
“According to this note, one year, five months and fourteen days.”
This answer surprises Claire so Brent elaborates. “It's a quirky thing, but she likes to pick random days to celebrate.”
“My Aunt Rita would appreciate that.” Claire smiles as she approaches Brent. She checks under his top button making sure Brent is wearing a bullet proof vest and then straightens his tie.
“I'd like to say, if I may, that I am honored to be on your team and working for you.” Brent tells Claire.
“Tell me about the target.” Claire inquires like a professor engaging a student.
“Riker Reeves. Aged forty one. He's been off grid for three years, ever since he alluded capture after a liquor store robbery in New Jersey for which his younger brother Duke served time. Over the last three years Riker has robbed eight jewelry stores in the northwest in an area between San Francisco and Seattle.” Brent declares confidently.
Brent continues his assessment of Riker. “His MO is always the same. He enters the store, alone, dressed in a suit, looking very much like a respectable customer. He pulls a gun on the clerk, commands the clerk to fill a black velvet bag with jewelry and then handcuffs the clerk in a location where they can't reach a phone or alarm. During his last heist he shot and killed Roberta Sherman, the store owner, in front of her daughter, and then winked at the security camera. The stolen merchandise has never shown up on our radar until recently which led to the tip resulting in our current sting.”
Claire looks pleased with Brent’s accurate review of Riker Reeves. “Good. Remember never lose your focus. Riker is not only cunning, he's shown he can be merciless.”
Claire hands a pair of thick rimmed glasses to Brent. “Here are your spy glasses, probie. Are you ready?”
Brent nods, trying to look confident.
Boutique shops and specialty restaurants line a Northwestern city side street. Mid-way down the street - Barkley’s Fine Jewelry Store. Across the street and down about a block, a florist van is parked in front of the flower shop Blossoms.
Inside the van…
Which is equipped with a state-of-the-art surveillance system, Claire monitors a computer screen displaying live action images from the jewelry store. She's fidgety, longing to be the one undercover and not the one caged up in a surveillance van.
Inside the jewelry store…
Brent, dressed as the security guard and wearing his spy glasses, walks around the store. He observes the jewelry cases, doors, and Victoria, the bottle blonde store manager sporting too much makeup and Botox. His observations via his spy glasses are recorded and displayed on the monitor Claire watches.
Inside the van…
Claire sees what Brent sees. She speaks into a specialized earphone with a connecting mouth piece. “Langer, testing, can you hear me?”
Inside the jewelry store…
Brent responds. “Affirmative, loud and clear.”
Victoria looks at Brent. He gives her a cocky "how cool are my spy glasses" look. She's not impressed. She motions to the doorway leading to the back of the store. “I'm going to go have a cigarette.”
Duke, shirtless, splits wood behind the cabin. Every muscle in his upper body is defined by hours of physical labor.
Haley exits the cabin holding a cup of coffee. She moves to the railing of the deck, leans on it, looks down and admires Duke's fine form and cool tats. “Hey Paul Bunyon, I'm ready for you to rev my Harley.”
Duke ignores Haley. He keeps chopping wood.
Riker joins Haley on the deck. “Good Morning, baby brother.”
Duke takes a break from splitting wood and looks at his brother. “Morning. When do we roll?”
“All in good time.” Riker promises.
*****
Days later, Claire sits in the van monitoring Brent from the computer screen. She plays with a squeezie ball trying to channel her "trapped in a van" energy. From the computer screen, Brent in the jewelry store tries not to look bored.
“Happy anniversary, Langer.” Claire chimes into her mouthpiece.
She watches Brent smile on the computer monitor as she hears him respond. “What are we celebrating?”
“Eleven days, six hours and thirty three minutes on stakeout.” Claire reveals.
In the woods near the cabin Duke saws a felled tree, with a handsaw, his muscles and tats rippling in his sleeveless shirt.
Riker, carrying a box, joins Duke.
“When do we roll?” Duke asks with anxious energy.
“Very soon, baby brother. Here, I got something for ya.” Riker opens the box. Inside are two wood handled revolvers, both the same make and model. “One for me, one for you.”
Duke is skeptical. “What do we need guns for?”
“Intimidation.” Riker hands a revolver to Duke. “Once we're done intimidating our way to a sparkly pay day, it's south we go. Not too far from Mazatlan there's this biker bar right near the beach. A bunch of our old riding buddies hang there. Mexie owns it, remember him?”
“Sure do.” Duke smiles, remembering.
“He's gonna put us up. A new life for both of us.” Riker encourages.
The jeep pulls up near the cabin. Haley gets out and calls down to Riker. “The Moose will be goose tomorrow.”
Riker slaps Duke on the back. “Tomorrow we roll, baby brother. Tomorrow we roll.”
At the end of the day, Victoria and Brent lock up the jewelry store while Claire exits the van. Claire peeks around the van watching them head home for the night.
Claire turns her attention to the flower shop Blossoms, it’s still open. She goes in. The wide variety of flowers for sale light up the store with color and fragrance.
The shop owner assembles a flower arrangement while Claire looks around. She stops at a table featuring perfumes for sale. She picks one up, a perfume that's name is displayed in Japanese characters, and smells it.
“Hmmm. Such a lovely smell. Jasmine.” Claire coos.
“That's Forbidden.” The shop owner tells Claire.
Claire is shocked. “I'm not aloud to sniff the merchandise?”
The shop owner smiles. “Forbidden is the name of the perfume.”
“Forbidden. Sounds covert.” Claire brings the bottle to the ch
eck-out counter. “I’ll take it.”
“That'll be ninety two dollars.”
Claire's eyes widen. “Seriously?”
The shop owner glares a "yes, seriously" at Claire. Claire hands her a credit card. “I'm sure my Aunt Rita will be amused that I spent ninety two dollars while stopping to relish the beauty and fragrance of flowers."
*****
The next day Brent looks out the front window of the jewelry store; the unsettled, dark grey sky portends a sense of foreboding.
“Gloomy out.” Brent says to Victoria.
“I'm going to go have a cigarette.” She tells him. Victoria heads into the back room and out the back door into the alleyway behind the store.
Dumpsters line the back alley. It’s a cramped and claustrophobic space made more so by the tall buildings on both sides. A couple of different alley veins, like the alleyways in Italy or Boston, wind into each other.
Victoria lights up a cigarette as she notices a motorcycle parked not too far away. Duke's motorcycle.
As she puffs, a gun cocks next to the side of her head. She drops the cigarette and is about to scream when Riker puts his hand over her mouth. He holsters his gun, takes his smart-phone and shows it to Victoria. On his phone she sees a photo of a young boy.
“Is this your son?” Riker asks.
Victoria nods her head yes. Riker puts the phone in his pocket. He grabs a small black velvet bag from another pocket and hands it to Victoria. “Fill this up with as much jewelry as you can and bring it back to me. If you don't do as I say and if you alert that guard inside, your kid is dead. He's not only dead, he will be tortured first. Got it?”
As tears well in her eyes Victoria nods again. She hurries inside.
Brent still stands by the door, looking out at the street. He doesn't acknowledge Victoria when she returns, nor does he notice Victoria discreetly filling the velvet bag with jewelry. When the bag is full Victoria comments to Brent. “I left my cigarettes outside, I’ll be right back.”
At the same time in the van…
Claire watches the monitor. Nothing is happening from Brent’s spy glasses point of view. She receives a video call from Whitmore. She talks to him via the computer monitor next to the surveillance monitor.
“Moose is dead. He was stabbed to death less than hour ago.” Whitmore relays.
“Shit. Riker's on to us.”
“The stake-out's been compromised. Terminate the surveillance.” Whitmore informs Claire. Claire, pissed, clicks out of the video chat.
She speaks to Brent via her earphone. “Langer. We've been compromised. The stake-out's over.”
In the jewelry store…
Brent responds to Claire. “Shame. But I must admit, I won't miss these glasses.” He says just before removing them.
In the back alley…
Victoria hands the bag to Riker.
“Thank you, darlin'. Oh, and by the way, we don't got your son. Fooled ya.” Riker chides. As soon as he's made his comments Riker saunters - slowly - towards the motorcycle, smiling as he hears Victoria screaming for help as she runs back into the store.
In the jewelry store…
Brent relaxes, assuming there is no threat. Until Victoria rushes into the store. “We've been robbed! He's outside in the alley!” She hollers. “He made me do it. He said he had Charlie. But he doesn't. Hurry, he's getting away!”
“Tell special agent Gray.” Brent yells as he flies through the back door into the alley. Brent spies Riker near the motorcycle. Brent aims his gun. “Riker! Freeze!”
Riker turns and sees Brent. Grinning like the devil, he calls out. “Duke, help!”
Duke comes flying from his lookout spot near the entrance to the alley. He purposefully positions himself between Brent and Riker, defending his brother. Riker, having Duke as a human shield, raises his gun and fires.
In the van…
Claire, in the midst of disassembling the surveillance equipment, hears Victoria screaming for help into the microphone on Brent's glasses just as the first gun shot goes off.
Claire, having heard the shot, flies out of the van, drawing her gun, and hoofs it into the alley while calling on her earphone. “Robbery in progress! Gun shots fired behind Barkley' Jewelry Store! We need back up! Now!!!!”
In the alley…
Brent gets one shot off before two shots hit him. The first shot, a wounding shot, hits him in the shoulder. The next shot hits Brent directly between the eyes. Brent falls to the ground dead. It's unclear which brother shot the fatal shot.
Duke, having been hit in the head by Brent's bullet, spins from the force of the bullet and falls face down on the pavement. Riker high tails it down the alleyway leaving behind his wounded brother.
Claire arrives on the scene just missing Riker. She sees Brent’s lifeless body with the bullet wound between his eyes. “Oh, no.” She sighs.
Claire approaches the other body that is face down on the pavement. “At least Brent got Riker.” Claire tries to reassures herself.
Claire turns the body over. It's not Riker. She studies the face that's now covered with blood, recognition finally registering. “Duke Reeves?”
Duke stirs. He's not quite dead, but close. He's a breath or two away from dying when Claire starts CPR. “Don't you dare die on me, you bastard.”
Claire continues with the CPR until the EMTs arrive and take over. Within moments the alley is teeming with feds and cops.
Victoria, shaken, stands near the back door. Claire joins her. “What happened?”
“I came out to have a cigarette and this guy jumped me. Showed me my son on his cell phone and told me if I didn't fill a bag with jewelry he'd torture and kill him.” Victoria relates as she wipes tears from her eyes.
Claire takes Victoria by the arm and leads her to the seriously injured and unconscious Duke. “Was this the man who held you up?”
“He's so bloody.” Victoria gasps in shock.
“Look at him, Victoria. Focus. Is he the man who held you up?” Claire states firmly yet calmly.
Victoria focuses. “No.”
Claire takes her smart phone from her pocket, finds a photo of Riker Reeves on it and shows Victoria. “Is this the man?”
“Yes. That's him.”
Claire whistles to get the attention of the cops and feds on the scene. She hollers with authority. “Listen up, everyone. Riker Reeves has gotten away. He may be on foot. Search the entire area.”
Gary Cahill, a CSI fed examines the area between Duke and Brent. “Looks like there was a duel” he says to Claire.
“I heard four shots, there are two in Brent, one fatal, one wounding, and one in the perp. I want to know what happened to that fourth bullet.” Claire commands.
“Maybe it's in Riker. I'll know more when I examine the guns.” Gary responds as he inspects the crime scene.
“Be extremely diligent in your investigation. I will not let Brent's killer go free on a technicality.” Claire says curbing the emotion she’s now feeling for the loss of the probie.
The EMTs load Duke into the ambulance. “I'm going to the hospital.” Claire informs the feds and cops at the scene.
In the hospital waiting area Claire sits alone, trying valiantly not to drown in a flood of emotions. She’s pissed that Riker got the better of her and got away and most especially she’s saddened by the murder of Brent Langer.
Whitmore joins Claire and takes a seat next to her. He sits close, their bodies touching as if silently offering comfort and wanting comfort through the closeness. “You were right.” Whitmore reveals with regret.
Claire cuts him off. “Don't go there, Whit. You are not responsible for what happened to Brent. That could have very easily been me in that alley and it probably would have played out the exact same way.”
Whitmore didn't want to hear that, his eyes revealing that her loss would hit him hard. Claire sees it and touches his hand, briefly, before re-focusing on work. “This whole scenario makes no sense. Riker knew
his target location was compromised by Moose, thus the hit on Moose. He completely changed his MO. And his brother, I thought Duke Reeves was on parole?”
“He was until about a month ago.” Whitmore shares with Claire. “His probation ended early. He was supposedly on a cross country fund raising motorcycle run serving as the group's mechanic.”
“Why weren't we informed that his probation had ended?” Claire wants to know.
“There's been no connection between the brothers since Duke went to jail. He was monitored but considered low priority.”
“He's not low priority now.” Claire states with determined vigor.
A doctor, wearing surgical scrubs, approaches. Claire and Whit stand and join him. “The bullet has been removed,” the doctor reveals. “But there's still a fragment left. He's stable but still critical. We'll have to do more surgery once the swelling has subsided.”
“When can we talk to him?” Claire asks as she paces with nervous energy.
“We had to induce a coma before we could operate. It might be some time before he's cognizant,” the doctor shares before heading to the nurses’ station.
Whitmore touches Claire’s arm. “Come on, let's go get something to eat.”
“I'm staying here,” she declares.
“Why? The perp's not going anywhere and we have a cop on guard.”
“He's our one link to Riker, Whit.”
“You're not going to get any information from an unconscious man.”
“No, but I want to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up.” Claire asserts as she heads for Duke’s room, leaving Whitmore alone.
Claire enters Duke’s private room. Duke, his head bandaged, lies comatose in bed. He's hooked up to various monitors and his right hand is hand-cuffed to the bed's railing.
Claire stands next to the bed, studying Duke. The front of his hospital shirt is opened to allow for monitors to be affixed to his chest. His ruggedly handsome face looks peaceful, innocent; he’s a mix of raw sex appeal and raw vulnerability.
She makes a call on her cell-phone. “This is special agent Claire Gray. I'd like you to gather all intel you can on Duke Reeves. Riker Reeves' younger brother.” She listens to the answer from the other end of the call before responding gruffly. “I know we already have a thick file on him. I want a thicker file. Dig up everything you can no matter how minor or insignificant you think it is.”