The Greatest Good

by Craig N Hooper

  He sighed.

  “Anything jump out at you at all?” I asked.

  “A couple of odd things, that’s all. Nothing alarming, though.”

  “Give me an example.”

  He paused. I heard him clicking on his mouse. Then he said, “Eva grew up in a bad part of Baltimore, basically the projects. Her mom worked a couple of waitressing jobs to support her.”

  “Okay. What’s odd about that, though?”

  “From her upbringing to where she ended up seems a little strange to me.”

  I thought for a moment. “Sounds like a classic American success story to me. A poor girl, but highly intelligent, overcomes her upbringing and gets accepted into a top school.”

  “What’s odd is that West Point is difficult to get into. Typically, applicants need a letter of support from a member of Congress.”

  “I didn’t know that. That is a little odd. You’re right. Maybe she was a community activist and frequently wrote to politicians as a high school student, something like that.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe one of her relatives was a politician?” I said.

  “Again, maybe, Agent Chase.”

  “What else? You said there were a couple of odd things.”

  The mouse clicked again. “Eva O’Connor went to a private boarding school in upper Maryland during her high school years. I know the school pretty well. It’s an incredibly expensive place, a place her mother definitely couldn’t afford. She listed it on her West Point application.”

  “Maybe they had scholarships or financial aid for her to attend boarding school.”

  “Even so, it’s really a place only the super wealthy can afford. Not even a mom working ten waitressing jobs could afford to send a kid there, even if the kid received multiple scholarships.”

  I smoothed out my bald head. “What about her father? I’m assuming they were divorced. Maybe he paid for boarding school. Maybe the mother used alimony to pay for Eva’s education.”

  “Let me check.” I heard the governor click away. “Let’s see. Okay, here it is: she left her father’s information blank on the West Point application.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “Maybe she had a wealthy grandparent or uncle or some other family member that helped her pay for it.”

  “Maybe, but there’s no other family information listed.”

  “You said there was a lot of personal information listed in the file. Is there a copy of her birth certificate?”

  “Let me check. There’s a folder listed ‘personal documents’.”

  I waited, listening to the governor’s breathing and the clicking of computer keys.

  “Here it is,” he said. “A copy of her birth certificate. Her mother’s name is Beth O’Connor and her father is listed as Johnny Russo.”

  The governor said a few more things, but I didn’t hear him. I couldn’t. As soon as I heard the ‘Russo’ name I went rigid. The name commanded my attention every time I heard it.

  My mind spiraled for a second or two. Within moments, however, everything suddenly became clear. It all made sense. I collapsed onto the shelf, then rolled onto my belly, still holding the phone to my ear.

  Johnny was a nickname for John. And John was the American equivalent of Giovanni in Italian.

  Giovanni Russo, aka Johnny Russo, was Eva’s father.

  Eva O’Connor was actually Eva Russo.

  I dropped the phone.

  CHAPTER 32

  Agent Chase, are you listening to me?”

  The entire plot unraveled in my mind. I’d been completely set up, duped and manipulated by Eva Russo for months now. I banged the back of my head on the shelving.

  “Agent Chase?”

  How long had she been planning this? I put my hands over my face. Stanley had lied about a few things, but he had been telling the truth about Eva. It wasn’t Stanley bent on revenge; it was Eva, for what I did to her father. I dropped my hands and banged both palms against the shelving unit. The cell popped in the air from the force.

  “AGENT CHASE,” the governor shouted.

  His harsh tone snapped me from my thoughts. I picked up the phone.

  “Sir, sorry about that. I know what’s going on. I know who’s setting me up.”

  “What? Just like that? All of a sudden you figured it all out?”

  “It’s a long story, sir.”

  Muffled shouts came from the shipping container. I’d trapped Stanley in there and needed to get him out.

  “That’s all you’re going to say?” the governor said. “I deserve more explanation than that.”

  The governor did, so I ignored Stanley’s cries for the time being. “Johnny Russo is Giovanni Russo, sir. That name may ring a bell.”

  I waited to see if the name registered with him.

  A moment later, he said, “You mean the Italian man who used to own the Motel 7 chain? The man found on the freeway billboard with the, uh—”

  “Yes, that man,” I said, interrupting. “He and I have some history together.”

  “History? What do you mean by that?”

  “I was the one who...”

  The governor cleared his throat. “Oh, I see. Really, you were responsible for the—”

  “Eva Russo is setting me up, sir, for my part in her father’s deportation.”

  “And humiliation,” he added.

  “Fair enough. She’s the inside person, Governor. She’s the one who’s been trying to kill your son. And she’s trying to frame me for everything. That’s as much as I can explain for now. I have to attend to Simon.”

  “Understood. Go to it, Agent Chase, protect my son. Have him call me as soon as he can.”

  “Will do.”

  I hung up and started climbing down the shelves. Mick’s voice filled my ear on the descent.

  “Aug, inbound car traveling at a good clip. You ready? In position?”

  “Is it Eva?”

  “Haven’t made an ID yet. Remember, I don’t know what she looks like. Describe her.”

  As I quickly described her, I heard the car’s engine racing toward the pier. It would be here in seconds. I didn’t have time to fill Mick in on everything. “Eva’s behind it all, Gabe. Stanley’s telling the truth.”

  “What do you mean? How do you know that?”

  “The governor just fed me some intel about Eva. It confirms she’s been lying all along. I don’t have time to explain. Give me a confirmed ID as soon as you can.”

  “Roger.”

  While climbing back up the shelves, I heard the car screech to a stop near the front of the warehouse, then a car door open.

  A moment later, Mick said, “Affirmative, it must be her. Slim, high cheekbones, dark hair. It’s strange, though, she’s wearing a large coat. Looks like a trench coat or something like that. Looks like she’s hiding something.”

  “Hiding what?”

  “I can’t tell from this angle; she has her back to me.”

  “You think she has a bomb or something?”

  “Not sure. It’s something big. Wait, she’s opening the trunk.”

  She’d parked so close to the front of the warehouse that I could hear her opening it.

  “She’s taking off the coat,” Mick said. “She definitely has something strapped to her front.”

  “Strapped? What does she have? A bomb?”

  “I don’t know. Her back is still toward me. Hold on, she’s turning now.”

  Mick went silent.

  I thought our communication link had dropped. “You there, Gabe? What’s going on?”

  Still no response, so I checked the earpiece. It looked fine. I said, “Gabe, you there?”

  A moment later, Mick said, “I’m here, Aug.” His voice was different, though, almost trembling. Maybe it was my imagination.

  “Talk to me,” I said. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Do not, I repeat, do not do anything rash when she comes in. Finger off
the trigger, Chase. In fact, lower your weapon right now.”

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “Just wait for me, buddy. I’m coming. I’m abandoning my post. You need my help.”

  “Stop being cryptic. What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “No, STOP. Tell me what she’s hiding. You need to prepare me.”

  “She has something.”

  “Has what? Spit it out. This is crazy, Mick, just tell me.”

  He cleared his throat. “She has someone strapped to her chest.”

  “Someone? What do you mean? How can she have a person strapped to her? How’s that even possible?”

  He paused, then said, “It’s a small child. A, uh, boy.”

  My son instantly popped to mind. “Simon? Tell me you’re kidding. She can’t have my son. It can’t be him.” I sucked in a breath and held it.

  Mick didn’t respond right away, so I knew it was Simon. It made sense since Simon went missing a few hours ago, but I still couldn’t believe it, or didn’t want to.

  “It can’t be,” I said, exhaling and shaking my head. “It can’t be.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s him, Chase. Just want to prepare you. He has a blindfold on. I haven’t seen him in a year or so, but...”

  My heart thumped. I swear you could hear it beating at least ten feet away “A blindfold? What?”

  The trunk slammed shut.

  “Just try and remain calm,” Mick said. “Don’t do anything rash. I’m coming. I’ll figure something out.”

  I tore the earpiece out. Of course I wasn’t going to do anything rash. I did have a hard time calming down, however. My breathing bordered on hyperventilation. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever hyperventilated before. With all my previous training, I was usually a picture of calm on missions. Now I had to put the rifle down because my hands shook and my chest heaved uncontrollably.

  While deepening my breaths, I heard solitary footsteps approach the sliding doors. Part of me knew it was Simon strapped to Eva’s chest. Another part of my mind kept telling me it was some other boy. It had to be.

  Then I had the most selfish thought of my entire life.

  Let it be someone else’s boy. Please, please, let it be someone else’s boy.

  The doors screeched open a fraction, then stopped. So did time. I waited until Eva made another move, but nothing happened for a long time.

  It was silent outside the warehouse. Inside, all I could hear was my pounding heart. It was so loud it seemed to echo throughout the big, empty space. I put my hand over my chest in an attempt to muffle the beating.

  I refocused my attention on the sliding doors, which were lit up by the construction lights. One beam shone through the crack in the doors and flooded a small section of the pier. There were no shadows out there, and no movement.

  Suddenly the doors flung open and Eva Russo slipped in. She pulled the door shut while sliding to her left, keeping her back to the wall. Her movements were a bit of a blur because I was focused on the boy. It took a split second to confirm that she had Simon on her chest.

  My heart paused, then sank. Maybe even disconnected from my arteries. It literally felt like that. As if my heart needed to be told to beat again. Willed to beat again.

  Simon had a black blindfold on, and I could tell right away that he was unconscious. His chest moved slightly, so I knew he was alive, but she must’ve drugged him with something pretty strong. The sight of my son made me gasp. I couldn’t help it.

  Eva heard the gasp. She swung her head toward my corner. “There you are, Gary. I figured you’d be up in one of the corners.”

  The disdain in her voice was palpable. Eva gripped a gun in her right hand. I didn’t identify its make as I usually did, and I didn’t respond to her comment either. I was too focused on Simon.

  My son was strapped to Eva with what looked like a modified baby carrier. Crude slits were made up the sides of the carrier, allowing his legs to fit through the once-small holes. A swath of duct tape wound over his abdomen and around the back of Eva. Another band of tape wrapped across Simon’s upper shoulders and the lower part of his neck. The same piece of tape wrapped around Eva’s back, securing his upper body to her chest. She had her left hand placed under Simon’s throat, effectively holding his head in place so it didn’t bobble forward.

  It took everything in me not to shimmy down the shelves, launch at Eva, and tear Simon free, then plant two bullets into her forehead. But I didn’t know what Eva had planned for Simon.

  I did know she was using him as a human shield. The top of Simon’s head was parallel with the top of Eva’s nose, just under her eyes so she could still see. There were only a few inches of Eva’s head protruding above Simon’s. Way too small a target. The shot was far too risky. Eva knew exactly what she was doing.

  “In shock, Gary? Can’t speak, can you? I understand this must come as a hell of a surprise. You must be going crazy right now.”

  I took one last look at Simon, then shifted the rifle and focused on Eva’s eyes. “What kind of sick person uses an innocent child to protect themselves? As a human shield. You’re a coward, beyond a coward. Who are you?”

  “I’ll tell you who I—”

  “A person with a twisted and demented father,” I interrupted, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of revealing her true identity. “You’re a Russo through and through. Obviously it runs in the blood.”

  I saw her eyes jump a little. The flinching eyes confirmed I’d caught her off guard.

  “You’re smarter than you look. Obviously you just figured that out. You had no idea about your boy, I bet.”

  Eva used her gun hand to pick up Simon’s right arm and fake a wave. “Wave to Daddy, Simon.”

  I dropped the rifle and looked away, then took a deep breath and addressed Eva.

  “Like father, like daughter. If you harm a hair on Simon’s head, you’re a dead woman, except I’ll torture you first.”

  She scoffed. “Pretending to date you has been torture enough. By the way, the only reason I dated you was to find out more about you so my father and I could orchestrate the perfect revenge. It didn’t take me long to learn the only thing you cared about in this world is Simon. For the record, I have no intention of killing your son. Unless, of course, you make a stupid move and force me to. Then I’ll have to kill him, but his blood will be on your hands, and on your conscience. Not mine. I’m not a child killer; let’s make that clear. For now, he’s my insurance policy against you taking a shot.”

  I pulled my eye from the scope and unbuttoned the top two buttons of my shirt. It felt like the warehouse was 100 degrees. A sheet of sweat moved down my face. I used the back of my palm to wipe it away.

  Keeping a level head was crucial. I absolutely had to keep my emotions in check. Most important, I had to keep Eva talking until Mick came through with something.

  “What’s your plan anyway, Evangeline? You really think you’re going to walk away from all this?”

  “It’s Eva,” she snapped. “And I am going to walk away from all this, trust me. And you’re going to die. You’ll be known as one of the worst, if not the worst, American traitor in history. Now tell me where Cranston is.”

  Just then a metallic boom rang out. Another followed, then another. It took me a second to realize that it was Stanley banging on the inside of the shipping container.

  “I take it that’s Stanley?” Eva said.

  I didn’t respond.

  Eva grabbed my son’s foot and bent it to an unnatural angle. Not enough to break anything, just enough to get my attention.

  I winced and held my breath.

  She seethed, “I asked if that was Stanley.”

  “It is,” I said, still holding my breath. “Now let go of his ankle.”

  She did.

  I exhaled.

  “Now tell me where Cranston is,” she said.

  I cleared my throat. “Ho
w would I know?”

  “Spare me, Gary, I know he’s around somewhere. Use your radio or whatever communication equipment you have and get him in here.”

  I didn’t respond or call Mick. Stanley started banging louder and faster.

  Eva grabbed my son’s foot again and bent it.

  “Stop,” I shouted. “You’re not a child killer, agreed, but you’re a child abuser, just like your pedophile father.”

  Eva suddenly swung her gun my direction and fired a shot. It ricocheted off the shelf’s metal frame. I scrambled to the back of the shelving unit so she couldn’t get the correct angle to hit me. Unfortunately, though, the shot drew Mick out. I heard the sliding doors jam open.

  Glancing over the shelf, I saw two muzzle flashes, then two booms followed. The bullets were aimed in the opposite, lower corner from where I was set up. Mick fired the shots as a distraction.

  Stanley immediately stopped banging.

  I watched my best friend dive into the warehouse. When he hit the ground, he rolled forward and came to his feet. He stayed in a squatting position with his arms extended, holding a pistol. He quickly found Eva and pointed the weapon at her.

  To Eva’s credit, she didn’t flinch. From the moment the doors opened until Mick found her, her only movement was a slow turn toward Mick. With her left hand she kept Simon’s head up to block Mick from blowing her head off. She calmly used her right arm to raise her weapon and take aim at my best friend.

  “First things first,” she said. “We need to go over the rules of engagement.”

  Mick jabbed his hand gun at Eva. “You kidnapped my girls and threatened their lives. How could you? I can’t believe you run the SCS. What the hell is this about anyway?”

  “Like I said, rules of engagement first. Now drop that weapon, Agent Cranston.”

  “I’ll never take orders from you again,” he said.

  Eva motioned at his gun. “Lower your weapon now.”

  “Why would I?” Mick said. “I heard you when I was outside. You said you don’t want to kill Simon, you have no plans to. I’m sorry, Chase, I don’t think it’s best to give up my piece. I won’t take a shot because I don’t have one, but I’m not giving up my gun.”

  “It’s okay,” I shouted, and I meant it. Eva had given too much away about her intentions. She had no leverage to make either of us drop our weapons. Though I still didn’t know what she was thinking or planning.