Transparency

by Charles Royce

  Billy Donovan braces to run in the other direction. “Sir, you have my number, right? The burner phone?”

  West spews out the digits in monotone. “315-555-3155”

  “Call me when you get out.” Billy hobbles into an alley, holding his shoulder.

  West approaches the FBI agent, turns around, shows the agent his wrists, which are already in handcuffs.

  C h a p t e r 7 7

  “WE GOT WEST.” Agent Pillsbury hangs up her phone, continues driving. “And Shawn is safe. So is the vice president. Just reunited with his wife. Shawn says they almost died up there.”

  Josh looks at his hands. Tracy’s blood is still on his fingers.

  “Freaking West.” Agent Pillsbury glances at Josh. “Now’s the part where we make him pay.”

  Josh leans against the window, sees the murky remains of Élan International in the rearview mirror.

  C h a p t e r 7 8

  SNUGGLING IN THEIR bed the next morning, Shawn and Haylee watch footage of the devastation on their large screen television. A ticker at the bottom reads “2,878 CONFIRMED DEAD, HUNDREDS STILL MISSING.”

  “Could’ve been a lot more,” Shawn says. “With the hotel, restaurants, condos, and party, some reports have said close to twenty thousand people were in those towers around seven o’clock.”

  “What kind of maniac would plan something of this magnitude?” Haylee asks.

  “West.”

  Haylee watches footage from a news helicopter filming the building from just off the Hudson River. “I heard earlier that there may be some problems now around the waterfront, something about the foundation. The subway tunnels were completely demolished around Hell’s Kitchen, water coming in everywhere.”

  “Jesus,” Shawn says. “I’m dumbfounded I made it home.”

  Haylee inches closer to her husband, grabs his bicep.

  Shawn smiles, rests his chin on her head.

  They watch as Josh is about to be interviewed outside Jenna’s jail.

  Shawn turns up the volume.

  “Mr. Harrison, some people are calling you a hero,” a person off camera says, shoving a microphone in his face. “What do you have to say about that?”

  “I’d say this was an unspeakable, completely avoidable tragedy, and one that the leaders of Élan will answer for. I’m no hero. You want to speak to the real hero? Tracy Heissman. That’s who you need to speak with. But you can’t, because she was killed by the recklessness of James West. Now if you guys will excuse …”

  His voice fades off as he walks down inside the jail.

  “Damn!” Haylee says.

  “That’s a completely different Josh.” Shawn holds a fist up in the air. “Bravo, my friend.”

  “Is that a jail he’s in front of?” Haylee asks.

  “Yes. He’s going to see Jenna. Finally. He’s supposed to call me afterward.”

  C h a p t e r 7 9

  JENNA JERKS OPEN the door and enters the visiting area.

  Josh rises from his chair, rushes toward her with open arms.

  Jenna stops him with an upraised hand, then smiles at the guards. She sits down in the chair across from him.

  Josh circles back to his chair. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you.”

  Fighting back tears, Jenna wipes her face with the tan sleeve of her jailhouse uniform.

  “I woke up early this morning, had some peace and quiet time just for myself,” he says. “The FBI had someone stay outside the whole night. They think there could be people still out there who want to hurt me.”

  Jenna tries to talk, but ends up looking down again.

  “So I just stayed in bed,” Josh says. “But not like before. I wasn’t really anxious. Just, I don’t know. Exhausted? The whole time I was laying there, the only thing I could think was, ‘You gotta see Jenna, you gotta see Jenna.’”

  Jenna smiles, nods.

  He knows something’s off.

  Josh looks at his watch. “Jenna, can we just move past this, get to the part where you forgive me, and we love each other unconditionally?”

  She’s fighting back tears.

  “Jenna, you have to understand,” he says, “all those weeks ago, after Billy Donovan shot at me in that basement, I wasn’t good. You saw me. When I finally came around, I was already in too deep. The grand opening, all the files and stupid flash drives, being an informant for the FBI. It was all too much. It’s just been too much.”

  “I know, I know.” Jenna sniffs, then wipes her nose. She composes herself, as she laughs through a cry. “I’ve worked through that. Really, I have. I saw the news. I know what happened to you. All of you. I am so happy you’re okay. Like so, so happy. It’s just really h-hard.”

  “Oh, honey.” He grabs her hand.

  “No touching!” He hears someone say.

  Jenna throws a glance to the guard. “With you and Tracy out there, I’ve just been so lonely, ya know?”

  “I know.”

  “And now Tracy?” She can barely get the words out. She leans forward, her shoulders shrugging.

  “She was so strong, Jen. You should’ve seen her. I’ve never seen anything like it. She saved thousands of people. Tens of thousands.”

  “Really?” Jenna leans up. “The news is calling you the hero.”

  “Nope. It was all Tracy.” Josh taps his fingers on the table. “All of it.”

  “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.”

  “All I did was follow through on the work you and I started together. You’re just as much a hero as I am.”

  Jenna tries to smile. Her bottom lip starts quivering.

  Josh notices. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is it?”

  “My, my dad.”

  “What?” He reaches out his hand again, grabs Jenna’s. “Is he okay?”

  “No touching!” says the guard.

  “Up yours,” he says under his breath. He lets go of Jenna’s hand.

  “It was a stroke,” she says. “He’s stable, doing better. He’s at that Podunk hospital in Lisieux.”

  “Are French Podunk hospitals like the ones in rural Mississippi?”

  “Probably,” Jenna says. “My parents cancelled their trip. They were coming for the trial.”

  “Do they need help? Do they need money?”

  “They’d never let you do that.” Jenna leans back. “It’s just disappointing. I need to see my father. I wanted to see both of them.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, I spoke to Shawn this morning. None of the stuff we’ve found so far on the SSD has any mention of Lennox’s murder. None. Which either means you killed him all by yourself, which we all know isn’t true, or the underscore folder has all the answers.”

  “It has to,” Jenna says. “I didn’t do any of what they accuse me of. There has to be evidence of West’s involvement. There has to be.”

  “It’s only a matter of time before the FBI decrypts the underscore file. Shawn has already talked with Pillsbury, and he really thinks he can iron out a deal for you.”

  “He’s told me. He said it’s going to take a while. They have to wait on West’s trial, make sure I follow through with testifying.”

  “Well, I’m here.” He looks at his watch again. “I’m not going anywhere, except for a short little trip this week.”

  “Good,” Jenna says. “I need you. The fact that no evidence was found linking West to Lennox’s murder is not a good thing. All the evidence points to me, and I know I didn’t kill him.”

  “I know you didn’t.”

  “And I think I’m onto something. Once I figure it out, I may need your help.”

  Josh reaches down, pulls something out of his bag. “Well, if you’re onto something, here’s a little something to help you sort it all out.”

  He places a red book on top of the table.

  “I got this a couple of weeks ago,” he says. “I just couldn’t find the t
ime to come see you. I’m so sorry, Jenna.”

  Jenna picks it up, feels the soft leather. She opens it up. It’s filled with hundreds of blank textured pages with deckled edges. “A journal. Oh, sweet Josh, it’s beautiful.”

  “I bought a pen, too, and some Parliament Lights, but they confiscated both of them.”

  “Thank you. I love it. I’ll use it every day.”

  “Write out all your thoughts. Get them out. It’ll help clear up all this bullshit.”

  “I hope so.”

  “And I’ll come see you every day I can.” He gets up to leave. “I promise.”

  “Hey, Josh?”

  “Yeah?” He sits back down.

  “I can’t help but think about the account.”

  “The account.”

  “The account I help Lennox set up. The one with the 232 million dollars.”

  “Oh, shit. Yes, that one. I never knew how much was in it.”

  “You couldn’t have known the amount, I’m the one that set up the account for Lennox.”

  “I know.”

  “Remember when we went through my apartment closet after we talked that day at the restaurant?” Jenna asks.

  “Yes.”

  “The laptop was missing, I’m sure of it,” she says. “Some of the paperwork was also missing.”

  “Yes, I remember. We were going to talk to Shawn about it, but you thought we were confusing him.”

  “Well, I think I finally know who took it, all of it.”

  “Who?” Josh asks.

  He looks at his watch again.

  Jenna notices.

  She grabs the journal. “I’ll figure it out, and we can touch base later.”

  “Okay.” Josh lingers, to see if she’ll say anymore. She usually does.

  “Do you still have the other folders?” she asks. “The ones with the account numbers and passwords?”

  “Yes. I told you months ago. I hid them far away from everyone associated with this company. Why?”

  “No reason,” she says. “Where did you hide it?”

  “Somewhere safe. When the time comes, we can go get it together.”

  “You’re really not going to tell me where you hid it?” Jenna looks hurt.

  “Jenna, you’re not thinking about doing anything stupid, are you?”

  “With the money? No! I just want to make sure no one else has it.”

  “Okay.” He looks in her eyes to make sure she’s not lying. He gets up again. “Well, I’m going out of town this week. But next week, I’ll come see you, I promise.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Oh! I didn’t tell you.” He sits back down again. “I’m not supposed to mention it, but I talked with Kimbo last night.”

  “What? Is he okay? Where has he been?”

  “He’s fine,” Josh whispers. “He’s been in Louisiana. With his aunt. He says he left because West threatened him, in that not-too-blatant way West does.”

  “Oh, I know.”

  “Kimbo is definitely the one who left the SSD on your doorstep.”

  “I figured.”

  “All that spy stuff he set up helped lead us to Project Fallback.”

  “Project Fallback?”

  “Didn’t Shawn tell you?”

  “No. He said a lot of stuff was classified.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” The edges of his bottom lip curl downward, flashing his bottom teeth. “Whoops. I’ll tell you all about it next week. I gotta hop a flight, otherwise I’d fill you in.”

  “You’re going to see Kimbo?”

  “Yes.” Josh smiles, divulges more. “Well, Kimbo and Agent Pillsbury. She’s meeting us there in Louisiana. Kimbo is the only one who knows what’s on the underscore file, and who encrypted it. I think we’re all going to work together on this thing, bring West down for good, and maybe get the info we need to tie West to this murder you’ve been accused of.”

  “Well, I need all the help I can get,” Jenna says, still sitting in her chair. “Please give my best to Kimbo.”

  “Love you!” Josh walks toward the door. “See you next week!”

  C h a p t e r 8 0

  “AND THEN I said, ‘See you next week,’ and left,” Josh says over the phone. “Why did I say that? Why did I lie to her?”

  “It’s okay, Josh,” Shawn replies.

  “And I lied about the SSD too. According to Pillsbury, James West took it and threw it in the river. The SSD is the only drive that had the underscore file on it. Now we have nothing. Jenna has no chance.”

  “Buddy, buddy. It’s okay.” Shawn moves his phone to his other ear as he steps out into the hallway. He closes the bedroom door so Haylee won’t hear the next part of his conversation with Josh. “Jenna can’t know all that, she can’t even suspect. Listen, the Feds should wrap this up pretty soon, once Kimbo talks with the ArchEngine folks. Pillsbury was sure ArchEngine made a copy of the SSD when they built it for Kimbo. Once the Feds get ahold of it, they’ll decrypt the information from the underscore file and Jenna will be set free. She’ll forgive you. You guys will make up. You’ll be Josh and Jenna again very, very soon.”

  “Do you know where I’m going?”

  “No. I don’t. It’s called Witness Protection for a reason. There are people out there who still want to kill you. You and Kimbo both. You met with the FBI early this morning, right?”

  “Last night. They video conferenced Kimbo into the meeting. Apparently, as soon as Kimbo found out that James West was in custody, he contacted the FBI. He wanted to come clean, see if he could help.”

  “What did Kimbo have to say about all of this?”

  “Kimbo knows everything. I mean everything. He encapsulated the whole ordeal in just a few sentences. He said the foreign investors’ endgame was always twofold: to make money and to influence foreign policy. When Élan became increasingly unstable, they began to use the organization power to further their political goals instead.”

  “To assassinate Vice President Maddox.”

  “Exactly. These investors were Iranian. Maddox’s Green Planet Initiative was impeding oil production in the Middle East. They saw their opportunity with the grand opening, and had me invite him. Kimbo said there was definitely a plan to kill Maddox that night, and it involved me somehow; he’s unsure of the specifics. Kimbo said by taking out Maddox, it would further the Iranians’ oil standing in the Middle East, and exact vengeance at the same time. Something about our government killing their vice president a few months ago.”

  “I remember that. The drone strike late last year. To the world, it looked like our government overstepped its boundaries by taking out their vice president.”

  “Shawn, this is big. Pillsbury is talking about bringing in Homeland Security. West could be convicted of treason. I don’t know if I can do this. The Feds don’t know how long it will take for the underscore file to be decrypted, or if ArchEngine will even have a copy of the SSD. Kimbo put all his eggs in that one basket, and I was the idiot who thought it was safest with me. Everything that connects West to these Iranian investors is in that encrypted file. Everything. The rest got blown to hell in the explosion.”

  “You and Jenna are kinda in the same boat. You’re both in limbo right now, but you are safe. And you’re both alive. It will all work out, surely sooner than later. You got this, buddy.”

  Shawn can hear Josh sighing.

  “Thank you, Shawn,” Josh says. “And thanks for working it out so I could see Jenna before I left.”

  “It’s what we do,” Shawn says, opening the door back up to the bedroom. “Bye for now, my friend. Safe travels, I mean it.”

  “Thank you,” Josh says. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon.”

  SHAWN HANGS UP the phone call and reenters his bedroom. He jumps back onto the bed, grabs his wife, puts his arms around her. They continue watching the television.

  “Was that Micah?” Haylee asks.

  “Josh.”

  “Is everything okay?”

/>   “It will be.”

  Haylee snuggles back into her husband’s arms, while staring at the replay of the building crumbling to the ground. “Did you ever find out about Micah’s involvement in all of this?”

  “No. No, I didn’t.” Shawn holds his wife closer. “But that’s okay. Your assessment is good enough for me, always has been. Micah may have gotten mixed up in all of it, but he got out. Where is he now, by the way? Have you heard from him lately?”

  “I’m not sure. He hasn’t emailed back in over a week.”

  On the television screen in front of them, they watch as uniformed officers shove West into a back seat of a vehicle, then haul him off in a dark limousine.

  “Yayy!” Shawn claps. “Bye, you sonofabitch. Thank God this part of the nightmare is finally over.”

  “Oh!” Haylee puts her hand on her stomach. “He liked your screaming. Feel this.”

  Shawn places his hand on her tummy. “Hey there, little Shawn. We’re cleaning up this big bad world for you, one monster at a time.”

  C h a p t e r 8 1

  “BABY, BABY, WAKE up.”

  “What? What is it?” Micah’s eyes open to darkness. He feels a hand squeezing his. “What’s happening?”

  Lennox squeezes tighter. “There’s someone in the house.”

  Micah looks around, to his left, to his right. He can’t distinguish shapes. Or color. He blinks. Suddenly he sees a female silhouette coming toward their bed.

  The woman holds up a knife and thrusts forward.

  “No!” Micah screams.

  He can feel Lennox’s hand begin to crush his own.

  The ominous figure continues to jab in the air above them.

  “No! Noo! Nooo!”

  THE SOUND OF his own cries awakens him. Not realizing he’s fully awake, Micah squeezes what he thinks is Lennox’s hand even harder.

  “Ow!” says the bald man beside him—tattooed, muscular, tan-colored skin. The man unleashes his hand from Micah’s grip, reaches for his wire-framed glasses on the hotel nightstand. He turns on a lamp, looks at Micah’s face. “Baby. You’re white as a ghost. Another nightmare?”