by Tara Oakes
Hoisting the thick cable up, it lands with a thud on my shoulder. A heavy thud. I can only imagine how heavy Beau’s portion must be, yet he carries it like it weighs no more than a feather.
“I can’t see where we’re going,” I muffle into Beau’s rock solid back.
He stifles a chuckle. “Just walk. I’ll tell you where to go.”
And he does. Direction by direction I follow him blindly until we’ve walked what must have been a quarter mile. The cable is dropped to our feet, spilling out in a mass of intertwined webbing that must be stepped over carefully. Without the obstruction blocking my view any longer, I take in the surroundings.
We’re in some sort of a tool shed, small and cramped. The air is musty and stale. The cement floor is damp and cold.
“We can wait it out in here,” Beau searches a nearby cluttered shelf and unhands a large weathered canvas tarp of some sort, spreading it over the small patch of open space in the middle of the miniature building.
Smirking, he gestures to the newly laid covering. “Might as well make the most of it.”
There’s no telling how long we’ll be trapped in here, and his suggestion is tempting. My head is feeling heavy and sending subliminal signals to my body, commanding it to rest.
Bending carefully to the ground, I feel almost instant relief from being off my feet. My body still hurts from the unseen injuries, although I can tell they’re improving. A little break can’t hurt, right?
Once seated, I stretch my legs out as best as I can, leaving enough room for Beau to take the place next to me. Right next to me.
I know he doesn’t have much choice given his size and the amount of space left open, but the feel and touch of our bodies matching up to one another’s is intense to say the least.
When Beau is fully seated, I try to shift to make just a bit more room for him, seeing how he’s obviously cramped. The awkward twist I make to do that sends a sharp shooting pain through my ribs, which is followed by a harsh sounding hiss.
Ow.
“Here,” Beau reaches up high where he’s set my duffel bag, and pulls it down. “Try this.”
The somewhat lumpy bag is propped up behind me like a makeshift pillow to lean against. It isn’t the most comfortable position but it’s better. There’s no place to extend my legs except over Beau’s lap.
“Go ahead,” he gives permission, jokingly allowing me to intrude on what little personal space he has left.
Other than a few awkward glances back and forth, we each spend countless moments looking about, studying the room, concentrating on anything but each other. Being that the room is smaller than small, that doesn’t give us much time until we’ve nothing else to study.
I move on to my fingernail. He begins to analyze his shoe.
“So…” I can’t stand the silence any more. I feel like I’m in one of those awkward chick movies where soft music should be playing in the background as we each nervously try to avoid being the first to speak.
“So,” he mimics me playfully.
Silence again.
“We could just fuck. Give us something to do for the next hour,” he deadpans.
My mouth grows slack. “What?!”
Beau breaks out into laughter. “You should have seen your face!”
I—what—did he just—
“Relax. I’m just trying to get you to smile.” He rolls his eyes as I recover from nearly choking.
I can tell he likes seeing me squirm. Whatever he was trying to do, it worked. He’s laughing and smiling at my reaction. I’m more relaxed, now that the ice was broken.
“An hour, huh?” My turn to make him squirm. “That’s it?”
His eyes open wide, realizing that I’ve just turned the tables. I’m the one laughing at his expense now.
“It’s good to see you smile. You’re too serious all the time.” We’re more comfortable now.
“Life is serious. You may leave your office and go to your quaint little life at quitting time but I don’t. I don’t ever get to leave this.” I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make him understand.
He shifts, getting more comfortable, if that’s even possible. “Then why don’t you make a change? Maybe this is a good chance to get out?”
If only. “There is no getting out. You should know that.”
I can see him analyzing my statement. “Normally. But, sometimes there are exceptions. What about your parents?”
“They never got out. Not really. No matter how much time passed it always lured them back in.” This is the first time we’re talking in depth about my parents, the reason he’s here in the first place.
“What do you think will happen when we get them back, then?” he can’t help but wonder.
So have I. A million times. “I’ll know they’re safe, even if just for a while. That’s what will happen. After that, I don’t know.”
Other than in the abstract, I haven’t let myself think too much about what it’ll be like when I get them out of this mess. If I start to think about that, then it isn’t long before my thoughts wander to other possible outcomes, including not being able to follow through to secure their release.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Beau’s hand moves to settle on my own. “We’ll get them back. Then I’ll help you figure out something to keep them safe.”
English may not be my first language, but I speak it well enough where no one would know the difference. In this moment though, I can’t seem to understand his words.
“Wh—why would you do that?” I’m replaying his words over and over in my head, no closer to an answer.
Very slowly, he breathes in and out. “Every once in a while, we all need help. Even you. No matter how stubborn you are. I want to help you.”
“Even though I drugged you?” I jokingly remind him.
He nods. “Even though you drugged me. And framed me as an international fugitive to make sure I wouldn’t leave.
Oops. Forgot that one.
“You know, you didn’t really have to do any of those things. I would have helped you anyway.” His thumb moves back and forth over a small area of my hand as if it’s massaging some hidden trigger point. The more he sweeps it in small circles over my skin, the more relaxed I become.
“Why would you have helped me? You don’t even know me, not really.” I can’t figure him out.
Beau’s left eyebrow twitches. “I know you. I know you in a way that’s different than how most people know each other. I’ve spent nearly a year getting to know how your mind works.”
I sit closer, intrigued.
“I had to learn the way you operate, anticipate your motives, your next move, learn what makes you tick. That’s probably the best way to get to know someone. People can pretend to be whoever they want to be. It can take a long time to see someone’s true colors. I got to see yours pretty quick.”
His words are hypnotizing me. “And what are my true colors?”
There’s a pause before he answers, as if he’s searching for just the right words. “You’re a survivor. No matter what you come across, you find a way through. You’re also a runner. You’d rather have something chase you through life, always at your back, than have to stop and deal with it. That tells me you’re afraid of something. Something you probably don’t even know you’re scared of. You’re terrified that if you turn around and stop running, whatever it was that was nipping at your heels all that time will be enough to take you down.”
I’ve entered a trance-like state as he reads me like a story. Once I realize he’s finished, I blink, only to feel the warm wetness of a tear building near my eyelash. Not wanting him to see the bit of emotion, emotion that I never let myself show to anyone anymore, I turn my head to hide the evidence.
“What is it you’re afraid will catch up to you?” Beau gently takes my chin and turns me to face him, exposing the falling tear drop.
No.
I can’t do this.
Can I?
Beau cuts me off as the tears begin to fall more readily. “The guy who shot you? Aleksei?”
Just the sound of his name begins to turn and tighten a well formed knot in my stomach. One that’s been there longer than I’d realized but never seems to fully go away.
Sniffling, I use the back sleeve of the work uniform to pat my nose dry. I don’t answer Beau. My silence is answer enough, I think. It’s bad enough that I have to know what Aleks has done to me. It’s a whole other thing to have to tell someone else.
There are many ways you can hurt a person. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Even some combination of the three. But, there’s one way that can wound a person in a way that can be deadlier than them all, a way they won’t ever truly be able to heal from, yet won’t be enough to kill them. A way you’ll have to live with the reminders of what was done, taking deep unseen cuts whenever you allow yourself to remember. That no matter how hard you try, you can’t help but remember.
That’s what Aleksei did to me. He hurt more than just my body, my mind, my heart.
He wounded my soul.
He took away all faith in other people, knowing that they, too, could be capable of hurting me that same way again if I let them.
So, I don’t.
I deal with them through the shadows, with words on a screen, with code.
I run.
“Look at me,” Beau urges me, dipping his chin down enough to catch my eyes as they try to avoid him. “Look at me. You can’t read people? Well, read me…”
He’s being stupid. What is this, some kind of therapy exercise he learned on one of those sensitivity classes his country is so fond of? Ha! Americans.
“Read me,” he repeats. “Everything you know about me. Put it together. Tell me.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
BEAU
“Read you?” Raven asks.
I nod.
It’s as if she’s studying me, piecing me together like one of those little puzzles in cardboard boxes. “You like to play it safe. You like to play by the rules.”
Oh? I can’t help but bite my lip at the beginning of her analyzation.
“You didn’t always, though. Once upon a time you liked the thrill, you liked the danger. You liked the rush. Something happened, though. It scared you. Why?”
I guess it’s only fair that I answer, given how honest she was with me before. “Because it went away. All those thrills, the danger, the rush as you put it… I went from liking it to wanting it to needing it. Then when I needed it the most, I couldn’t have it. I was just a regular guy like everyone else sitting in a holding cell at eighteen years old, jammed up because of the thing I couldn’t get enough of, not sure if I’d ever get a taste of it again.”
The memories and raw feelings of those days come back like a windstorm. Everyone has their addictions. Everyone. With some, it’s harmless, like sex, love or shopping. For others, it’s more dangerous. Drugs. Booze. Danger.
They all have one thing in common, though. They all give you a high. I was getting my high from the thrill of doing what no other person could, what they said couldn’t be done. Each time I’d push myself further and further, teaching myself to do things I didn’t think possible. Each time I’d do them and get a new level of high, one that I needed to top.
That is, until the one day when it was all taken away from me.
It was like detox.
I went through the shakes, I went through the withdrawals. I never thought I’d get that high back. Until one day, while I was sitting in my cell, waiting to face a judge for the laundry list of cybercrimes they’d been able to come up with, I got a visit. A visit that changed my life.
Benjamin Buckley, the head of the fledgling Cyber Security Task Force with the Federal Bureau of Investigations, had paid me a visit and made me an offer. An offer I couldn’t refuse.
I had a choice to make. I could either sit in a cell very much like that one for the rest of my life, with no chance of ever seeing a computer again, never getting back the feeling that I’d grown to need, or I could accept his offer to come work for the Bureau and use my skills for something. Anything.
It was a no brainer.
I agreed to sell a small part of my soul to the devil in exchange for a chance to do what I loved and not have it ruin my life. Looking at Ravens situation now, I know I made the right choice all those years ago. If I had kept doing what I was doing, it would have killed me.
One way or the other.
I hope Raven sees this, is able to step back from the edge before it’s too late for her, too.
All the best profiling in the world couldn’t manage to tell us what I just learned in the last sixty seconds from Raven herself.
She’s not nearly as badass, and indestructible as she’d like everyone to believe. She’s human. She’s been hurt. She’s living with it every day. I can see that now.
“What did he do? Aleksei?” The only way for me to truly understand her is to know everything, although I doubt she’ll willingly give it up.
Just as easily as she started to open up mere moments ago, she’s quickly clamming up.
“Tell me. I want to know,” I soften my voice.
“The worst kind of betrayal,” she whispers.
I don’t need her to say any more. “You loved him.”
Sadly, Raven nods. Only once. “That was a long time ago. I learned my lesson.”
She’s a hundred percent serious. At least, she thinks she is.
“That’s a shame.”
“Why?” She’s confused.
I really hope she doesn’t take this as an insult. “Because, then he wins.”
The statement seems to have struck a chord. Her eyes shift down. Hopefully she realizes what I’ve said is true. That’s up to her to decide, though. You can tell a person what they’re worth, but, until they know it themselves, they won’t hear it.
“It’s cold,” she shivers.
I’d been so concerned with her story, that I hadn’t realized the temperature had dropped in here.
“Here, get closer.” I pull her in the inch or two that separates us. “We’ll be able to sneak out just after dark. I’m sure they’ll have given up on whatever they’re looking for by then.”
Judging from the strip of light under the thin wooden door, I’m guessing it’s not far off from sunset.
Her chin rests in the hollow of my chest perfectly, thanks to our difference in height. “Better?”
Nodding, her cheek rubs against me, warming me up. “Much.”
We fight off the cooling sunset by huddling together. Our breathing becomes in tune, matching each other’s. I guess that’s just a natural human reaction when you’re this close.
“Hey, Raven?” My voice muffles into her hair. “That guy was an ass for doing whatever he did. I hope you know that.”
~*~
RAVEN
I can hear his heartbeat under my ear, loud and strong, thudding, keeping time for me. He hasn’t fallen asleep, neither have I. We just lie here, waiting.
“They must have left by now. Let’s get out of here before we freeze.” Beau says what I’ve been thinking for the last ten minutes but been too hesitant to say.
Leaving the crumpled tarp on the floor, we take only my duffel bag containing my computer equipment, and the work clothes on our backs. Once the coast is clear, our dark figures slink through the poorly lit section of unused runway to the larger hangar that was our original destination.
A large cargo aircraft with its remarkable logo painted on the side is being unloaded much the same way as the plane we had flown in on. Workers scurry with their large payload machines, hauling the cartons to awaiting
trucks and vans.
“Hide here,” I show Beau what I mean by scurrying behind a half wall, before digging in my duffel for my binoculars.
It doesn’t take me long until I find the van I want. Adjusting the zoom, I can just make out the nametag of the driver as he checks over the manifest for the load that’s just been placed in his care.
Earl.
Normally, I’d have a ride ready to go, but this trip has been anything but predictable. I’d pulled off this trick once, about two years ago. Using that as a point of reference, I know I have about two and a half minutes to get the van down the runway and passed the main gate before it’s discovered missing.
“See that guy right there?” I point to Earl, my newest target. “His name is Earl. I need you to go tell him that there’s been a change in itinerary and he needs to check in at the main office before leaving.”
Beau nods. “You?”
The binoculars are placed back into my bag. “I’ll be right behind you, climbing into the van. As soon as Earl goes into the office, we’re taking the truck. Now, hurry.”
My second attempt at stealing a cargo van from the United Package Service goes off without a hitch, much like the first one. Without jinxing ourselves, we wait until we clear the barbed wire topped chain-link fence gate before speaking.
“You know, a lot of people are going to be angry that they’re not getting the next day shipping they paid for.” Beau’s such a smart ass.
Turning the vent dial on high, heat begins to pour out and warm the cab, enough so that I no longer need the thick coverall disguise.
“They’ll live. Packages get lost all the time.” I shimmy the coveralls down past my hips. “Eyes on the road, Romeo.”
The material is left in a puddle at my feet as I set out my laptop on my lap, bringing it to life.
“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’.” Beau floors the accelerator, knowing our time is limited.
“Okay, make a left up here. Go to the next corner and then pull up next to the tube. We’ll leave the van there and go the rest of the way on foot.” I dictate the directions as I send a quick encrypted message to our soon to be host, alerting him that we’re on our way.