by Terry Persun
Everyone stopped to look at her. “Any of you loving your life?” She looked around. “So, who cares what they do? I’ve escaped from three foster homes and a private orphanage. You think I can’t escape some foreigner?” She stepped up to Mercer. “They’re going to pay us a lot of money for something we’re never going to want to use anyway. Who wants to bring children into this world to live like we’ve lived? They’re actually doing us, and everyone, a favor. Our eggs will be sold off to people who actually want to have kids. If our lives can’t be saved, then theirs can. What’s wrong with that?”
Her little speech stopped Dan in his tracks. He shook his head. “What are we doing here? All of us?” He recalled his journey where Dr. Dunst thought he was saving lives. Perhaps he was. When does life begin? Is the potential for life just as sacred as the merging where life begins? Dan had always been pro-choice, but was pro-life so bad if you thought of it the way Dr. Dunst did, or the way this young Indian girl did?
“We’re saving lives,” Mercer answered Dan’s question.
The words, again, echoed Dr. Dunst for Dan. What was he to think about his journey, these girls? He closed his eyes for a moment, to get a grip on the situation, but it was big, bigger than anything he’d done in the past. But one thing came through: he couldn’t let the girls just get sold to the highest bidder. If they were to be sterile, that was no reason to end their lives right there. “Just get ready,” he finally said to her. “You’re going with us for now. We can talk about this later.”
“Or not,” Mercer said.
Dan swung around.
“Someone’s coming.”
“Everyone, stay low. You too, Jason.” Dan rushed to the door beside Mercer but didn’t stick his head around to look. The dimness of the hall light might help keep them safe. “Close the door,” he whispered as he reached for the edge of the door to shut it. He put a finger to his lips, but suspected no one really saw him in the darkness. Quiet should be assumed.
When the door handle turned, Mercer stepped back, the Glock raised high and ready to come down. But it was too late. They were expected, and Dan heard a shot, close range, and Mercer fell to the ground.
Chapter 29
The girls screamed and rushed to the side, their shuffling feet the loudest sound in the room.
Dan dropped to the floor to check on Mercer, the bed leg clattering as it rolled away.
“Back away, asshole!” A guard stood in the doorway.
Dan scooted from the body, still against the floor. Mercer moaned. “He’s hurt. You have to let me look after him.”
“We don’t have to let you do anything,” the guard said. He held a gun out, and the girls, all six of them, huddled closer together and stepped back in unison. Jason stood to the side, a statue. “All of you, let’s go.” He waved his gun and turned his head slightly to talk with one of the men behind him. “Call the doc.”
For an instant, Dan thought to leap up and jump the man while his attention was elsewhere, but decided the risk wasn’t worth it. Anyone could have gotten hurt. “Is that how you fix every mistake you make, call in a doctor?”
“We don’t make mistakes. We’re what you call an outside firm. Consultants.” The man smiled broadly, then winked. “We’ll take care of him.”
The shorter Indian girl stepped toward the guard. “They were trying to save us, but we don’t want to be saved.”
Dan glanced around at her and saw that she was fairly alone on her decision. The other girls stared at her. One girl actually stepped away from the group, indicating her separation from the opinion. Not that it mattered at that moment. Dan was disappointed, not only in the girls, especially the one, but in he and Jason’s involvement. They were never told the entire truth, and were blocked on all sides—in the physical world by the FBI and in the non-physical world by the shamans. What a mess. For a moment, he mentally flogged himself for ever getting involved, for not noticing the unfeasibility of success. He got up from the floor slowly while watching the guard.
The guard stood in a grounded position, broad and muscular, which meant slow to Dan. He walked deeper into the room and four other men followed. One was rather skinny, but looked meaner and rougher than the others, with a two-day beard and permanent scowl on his face. They all had pistols pulled.
One man retrieved Jason’s gun.
Then the talkative one walked directly over to Jason, moved Jason’s chin to the side, then reached into his ear for the ear bud. He dropped it to the floor and stomped on it. “Should have known.” He then announced that we were all being moved. “Put the girls back in their rooms, a guard on each. Joey, you check on the men to be sure they’re all okay.” He glared at Dan. “You’d better hope you didn’t kill any of my family.”
“We wouldn’t do that,” Dan said.
“And that’s a lie,” the talkative guard, and probable leader, said. “Collect their guns and that metal leg.” He smiled at Dan again. “I like an industrious man, maybe I should recruit you.”
Dan didn’t respond this time. He just held the man’s stare for a moment.
The leader’s eyes narrowed. “We’re going to get to know each other, I can see.” Then he spouted additional orders to his men. One guard grabbed Jason’s bicep. Jason flinched at the manipulation of his arm.
Mercer moaned again, and his head moved from one side to the other.
“What about him?” Dan asked.
“I told you, Doc will take care of ’im. Don’t you worry.” The leader reached out to take Dan’s bicep in his hand, which seemed to be their way of dealing with people. Like the man holding Jason, the leader’s grip tightened to a squeeze more than it needed to. A show of strength? Maybe he was pounded by bullies as a kid and needed to prove himself. The man smelled a bit gamey, probably from sleeping in his clothes. The scent only added to Dan’s dislike of the man. But he’d also been around the type before, on many occasions. All you had to do to get them to unfocus is to disrupt their ego. That might be for later.
Everyone dispersed to their duties, while Jason and Dan were taken to a far staircase and walked down a flight. They were also led through a kitchen to another hallway. Dan noticed that the place had rooms with showers and figured the reason no one saw these men, in particular, coming and going, was because they lived there. That meant that they came in as protection for several months at most, got paid, and walked out to take the next job. They must have moved in a few weeks or more before the operation actually went into business.
He and Jason were shoved into a room with a metal door that they heard being locked from the outside—no inside access to the lock. They stood bewildered for the moment, looking around the sparse space with the usual plain adornments.
Jason rubbed his arm where he’d been grazed. “Well, we’re alive,” he said, in what sounded like a weak acceptance of their situation.
“For now,” Dan said. “I hate to think what they have planned for us.”
“That guy, the boss, didn’t seem to like you.”
“I opposed him right off the bat, no wonder.”
“You do that a lot. You did it with Cora and her team, too. You do it with me.”
“When you’re finished whining about my personality defects, can we come up with some plan on how to get the fuck through this?”
Jason lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Dad. Sure. That was uncalled for.”
Dan walked over to Jason and placed a hand on his son’s good shoulder. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad you’re okay. I know I can be gruff. Maybe I’ve been doing this for too long. Maybe that’s why I worry about you getting involved.” He nodded in agreement with himself then shrugged. “You didn’t seem upset at Koko’s death.”
“She’s one of them.”
“I’m not so sure now. But it’s too late. And about this work, too, you’ve made your decision, and I have to abide by it.”
“You could have gotten the girls out first.” He didn’t go any further with the thoug
ht, but smiled as though glad his dad had taken the steps he had.
“You heard them; they don’t all want to go.” He looked his son in the eyes. “Seriously, are we doing what’s right, and for whom is it right? Has the FBI, have we, asked what these girls truly want? Aren’t there times when we all have to make our own decisions?”
Jason turned away and took a few steps, his face scrunched and confused. “They were bribed. They have a horrible life. Enough money to leave home and live free for a while probably sounded great to them. How would they know what was to come? Besides, they may have the opportunity to choose now, but not later. We need to educate them to what they got into, then let them make a decision.”
Dan thought for a moment. “I guess when you can’t trust anyone, you find someone who’s like you and put your faith into that person. Maybe that’s all each of these girls did. Put their faith into Koko, maybe. You’re right. They didn’t know it would backfire.”
“Koko made her decision based on lies, too,” Jason said.
“And look where it got her. I get it.”
“On another note,” Jason said, “Do these people know it’s bad luck to kill a shaman?”
Dan smiled at his son’s morbid humor. “They are about to find out,” he said, even though he had no idea what he would possibly do. The one thing he knew was that the gig was almost up. No crew of men hole up in a place like that for more than a few months. And when the gig was up, they’d have no use for him and Jason. Or the girls who hadn’t been auctioned off already.
Jason settled on the bunk in the corner. He looked around. “I’m starting to like these things; they’re more comfortable than you’d think. He folded the pillow and leaned back.
Dan noticed how his son grimaced as he put pressure on his wounded arm. He wondered when the nurse was going to change the wrappings and how the wound was healing. “We could use the legs of the cot for protection again,” Dan said.
“They’d just shoot us. That big guy, the boss, he’s not afraid of us and probably doesn’t really care. There must be something more subtle than fighting our way out. Besides, now that my comm is off, don’t you think Cora will send in the troops no matter what happens next?”
“I’m not so sure. She wants to take care of this, yes, but she’s more interested in capturing these guys.” He shook his head, almost in disbelief. “I don’t think she’s so concerned with us anyway—maybe even be happy if we don’t make it. No, she’s after the girls. She’ll go to them first, then Chuck O and his gang, then us.”
“It’s the right thing, Dad, and you know it.”
“That just means we’re on our own.”
“Still, I don’t think they want people dying. Even though they’re lawyers, they’ll have to explain what happened to us. Maybe Mercer could be explained away because he broke in without a warrant or anything. Burglary. Add us, Koko, now they’re getting scared. Too many burglars to just talk your way out of.” He sat up. “Maybe that’s all we have to do?”
“What, die?”
“Appeal to their future selves.” Jason’s eyes opened and he smiled broadly. “Everything we do is about stories. You tell them all the time, honor them, ask your clients to honor them. Well, what if we just made up a future for Chuck—he’s the boss after all—that scares the hell out of him.” Now Jason smiled. “You can insert it. I know you can.”
In a few minutes, before Dan and Jason came up with a story, they heard rustling at the door, the lock turned, and the door open slightly. Jason had lain back down and slowly sat up. Dan had his head resting on his folded arms on the desktop and took a deep breath, turned around, and stood, his body sore from sitting in such an unusual position.
A man stepped into the room, swaggering, cocky, dressed in dark pressed slacks and a starched light blue dress shirt. He stopped only a few feet into the room.
“Chuck?” Jason got up and walked forward. “Glad you could come. There’s been a big mistake—”
Chuck didn’t even look at him, but with a wave of his hand Jason shut up and stopped in his tracks.
Dan didn’t move.
“So, you’re the great Dan Johnston?” Chuck O swaggered deeper into the room. “Not so much a hero now, though, are you?”
Dan noticed two guards standing behind Chuck, but neither was the leader Dan had gotten to know earlier. Underlings. Good thing to notice. Dan also witnessed how Chuck shifted weight awkwardly, how the man’s hands shook a little, how his eyes had a slight jitter to them. Dan saw all the action while still staring directly at Chuck. He used his peripheral vision so that Chuck got nothing but Dan’s stare, long and hard.
“I was told about you, that you’re so good that…” he stopped and counted off on his fingers… “the FBI, CIA, ISTI…” he held his next finger out, but didn’t have another word… “you’ve worked for them all—helped to break governments, find artifacts, capture drug lords… You’re quite the fucking big deal. I’ve heard that you can kill a man without touching him.” His teeth clenched toward the end of that last sentence. Then he laughed uncomfortably.
Dan doubted Chuck even noticed how frightened he truly was, his own bravado probably too strong to even pay attention to the man underneath. His ego so big.
“You’re not so much the hero now,” Chuck said again, obviously trying to convince himself as he took another strained step toward Dan, confronting him.
“That stuff took place a long time ago,” Dan said softly.
Chuck had a big, strained, grin as he stepped even closer. The guards behind him didn’t enter the room. “You’re getting old. Maybe your career’s over. This, what we’re doing, seems small-time for someone with your experience and status. Besides, we got you now. We captured you. How good of a shaman can you be?”
Dan waited for a long moment, waited for Chuck to get to the edge of his already waning patience. “You didn’t capture us,” Dan said.
“Dad…” Jason sounded scared.
Dan hardly heard Jason’s protest through his own intense focus. “We wanted to get to this very spot.” He took a step forward, and Chuck leaned ever so slightly backward.
“What do you mean?” Chuck asked seriously, then he laughed again, the sound of his voice punctuated by halts and stops, as if it were fake.
“I sometimes like to look into the eyes of someone I’m about to haunt.”
Chuck took a full step backward. He swallowed. “What do you mean haunt?”
One of the guards stepped inside and walked until he was near Chuck’s right side, slightly behind him, then stopped and aimed his pistol at Dan. “Should I end ’em?”
Dan turned his focus slightly over Chuck’s shoulder toward the guard. “Go ahead.” Back at Chuck, he said, “I’m already inside him and pulling him apart. He’s going to die in days whether I’m dead or not.” He cocked his head. “And there you have it, what a shaman can do to a man unless we make another deal.”
“Dad, you said no more deaths.” Jason truly sounded frightened, his voice strained.
Dan noticed how his son’s words affected Chuck, whose eyes tightened in the corners, whose stare weakened until his eyes darted to Jason and then back to Dan.
“Don’t,” Chuck said.
“Fuck, Dad…” Jason was at the edge of his control.
Dan stepped forward and reached for Chuck’s arm.
Chuck reacted, stepped back and to the side, bumped into the guard and stumbled, breaking the tension. That’s when Dan took another step as though trying to help Chuck from falling, but instead shoved him into the guard while reaching out for the barrel of the Glock, grabbing and twisting it until the gun went off a moment before leaving the guard’s hand. Dan slammed the barrel of the gun across the guard’s head, knocking him out. That instant another shot went off, coming from the doorway. The second guard. Dan turned to see Jason slump to the floor and blood spread over his shirt, so he twisted back around and shot the guard standing just outside the door in the wrist. That guard
’s gun went flying, and the man grunted loudly in pain. He wouldn’t be shooting with that hand for a while. Dan then dived for the door, slamming it shut before landing on his stomach with a huff. Knowing that there was no lock, he scrambled across the floor and put his back against the door to hold it in place. His Glock was pointed at Chuck, who slowly rolled over and sat up. He looked at the guard lying next to him. “Is he dead?”
“Knocked out,” Dan said.
Chuck looked over at Jason. “I heard two shots.”
Dan didn’t respond to him. “Jason?” Dan yelled.
Jason’s left hand held to the bloody spot on the same side of his body. “This one hurts more than the last one.” His voice was strained, but clear, which was a good sign to Dan.
“Now you’ve done it,” Chuck said.
Dan turned his chin up and his head to the side. He yelled through the door, “Whoever’s out there, I have Chuck, and I’ll blow his face away if you try anything. I want a doctor. Now!”
Chuck covered his face with his hands. “Don’t. Not that.” Then he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled in a loud, breaking voice, “Do it. Right away.”
Dan heard the fear in Chuck’s tone. He waited for only a few seconds then said, “I don’t hear an answer. Maybe I start by shooting off his nose.”
Visibly distraught, Chuck scooted back on the floor.
“We hear ya,” came the leader’s voice. “I hear we got your son, what about my man?”
“Knocked out,” Dan said. “I told you…”
“Doc’s on his way,” the leader said.
Dan waved his gun toward Chuck, who looked as though he were near crying. “Drag that desk over here.” When Chuck didn’t move, Dan shot a bullet that skimmed Chuck’s shirt, ripping it but not his skin.
Chuck turned and scrambled over to the desk. He half turned, with fear in his eyes and his hand held up, and dragged the desk toward Dan. When he got close, Dan told him to stop. “Drag your guard across the room to the wall. Then sit in the chair next to him and push your face against the wall. I want you close, immobile, and with both hands shoved under your ass.”