The Mechanic

by Tom Fowler

  “We ain’t been told where to take her yet,” the first man said. Based on where his voice came from in the vehicle, Lexi presumed him to be the driver.

  “So?”

  “So maybe we have some fun with her while we wait.”

  Lexi ran through scenarios in her head. Her legs weren’t tied, so she could kick. She could headbutt. Both her parents insisted—separately, of course, because they rarely did anything together—she learn to defend herself from the time she started school. Her dad was the only one who tried to teach her. “Don’t start a fight,” he told her, “but make sure you can end one.” She’d do her damnedest.

  “What kind of asshole are you?” the Lennon-sounding guy said.

  “What? We got a girl tied up in the backseat.”

  “For Christ’s sake. She’s here to draw out her old man.”

  “Be quiet,” the driver said. “You want her to hear?”

  “I doubt she’s stupid. She must know what’s going on.”

  A ringing cell phone interrupted their argument. “Sitrep,” a new voice said a few seconds later. Whoever it was projected authority even through a Bluetooth setup. Braxton.

  “We got her,” the passenger said. “Just need to know where to take her before Anderson here gets any ideas.”

  “You dick,” Anderson said.

  “Listen to me,” Braxton barked, “both of you. You’ll bring her to facility three. Is she currently unharmed?”

  “Yes, sir,” Anderson said.

  “Then, she is to remain that way. Am I clear?”

  “Absolutely,” the other man said.

  “I’ll expect you soon.” Braxton hung up, and the quiet country song she heard before resumed.

  “You know where facility three is?” the passenger asked.

  “Sure,” Anderson said. “Been there a few times.” The vehicle turned suddenly. Lexi slid across the seat, and her head banged into the armrest on the door. “You?”

  “Once or twice. I didn’t know we were gonna use it for anything.”

  “You never know with Braxton.”

  The men fell into silence. Even though Braxton instructed them not to harm her, Lexi’s pulse didn’t slow. She struggled against the rope to no avail. Braxton was going to use her as bait for her father. He’d be walking into a building outnumbered and outgunned. If she could get free, maybe she could help him.

  Lexi didn’t want him to face down Braxton and all his men alone.

  Driving around proved fruitless. Tyler didn’t see Braxton or even a sign of activity at either of the sites he knew about. He got back on the highway and passed a couple of slower-moving cars. A quick glance at the speedometer showed him he’d crossed 85. Tyler took a deep breath and eased off the gas. Getting pulled over wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Lexi.

  He steered the 442 onto the shoulder. His right hand shook with adrenaline as he put the transmission into park. Tyler ran himself through the exercises he employed to slow his heart rate and calm himself before a big shot. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. He’d never been the best sniper, but he always fired with his lungs empty and his pulse as slow as he could get it.

  Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

  This was just like taking a shot at 200 yards. No—no, it wasn’t. Lexi’s life was never on the line in Afghanistan.

  Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.

  Being amped up wouldn’t get his daughter back.

  A minute later, the tremble in his hand disappeared. Tyler thought about his next course of action. Braxton would call at some point and probably demand something in exchange for Lexi’s safe return. Tyler harbored an idea what it would be. He wanted to get things moving before then. Don’t let the enemy dictate the terms of battle. An idea popped into his mind, and he input an address into the GPS.

  Tyler pulled back onto I-95 North. He stayed on it long enough to pick up the Baltimore Beltway headed toward Towson. Traffic was typically light for a Saturday afternoon. Tyler took the exit for I-83 North and soon got off the highway, ending up on York Road headed into Cockeysville. It was a nice area of Baltimore County, set between the more pedestrian Lutherville and the more upscale Hunt Valley. Tyler turned off York Road after about a mile and drove into a townhouse community.

  Like most similar developments, its houses all looked alike in some way. A few had dormer windows, and some were larger or smaller than others, but anyone who lived here did so for comfort and convenience rather than individual expression. Tyler pulled into a guest parking spot near his destination. A few people milled about. He killed the engine, sat in the car, and waited for them to pass.

  When they did, he got out of the car and skulked around to the rear of a group of houses. He’d seen the address from the front, and his target sat one from the far end. Tyler found it from the back and checked his surroundings. No one walking about. No one on a deck grilling. A wooden fence with a gate stared back at him. It was five feet tall. He could get over it but not quickly, and the process could attract attention.

  Instead, Tyler took out a lock-blade knife and slid it between the planks of wood. He found the catch for the gate, steered it open with the blade, and moved into the backyard. Tyler pushed the gate closed behind himself. The grounds would be of sufficient size for the tiniest of dogs. It might have been twenty feet from gate to back door, and the yard was deeper than its width.

  The rear door was not a slider, making it easier. A rear door on glides, especially one with the bar down, would take time to bypass. Time was the enemy. A glass door with a white frame and conventional lock provided entry to the house. Tyler opened it quickly with the snap gun, moved the plastic blinds aside, and snuck into the house. He closed up behind himself and padded across the basement. A finished living room yielded to a hallway with a bathroom and laundry area. Tyler took the stairs to the main level.

  He checked the house thoroughly. No one was home. Tyler chose a seat at the kitchen hidden by a wall from the front of the house. He waited. He’d always been good at waiting. It seemed like a silly thing to claim proficiency in, but younger soldiers in particular showed no aptitude for a hurry-up-and-wait environment. They were too impatient, too used to instant gratification. Even ten years ago, many of them were too used to their phones or tablets to sit in silence for hours at a time with no outside distractions.

  A half-hour into his vigil, a key turned in the front door. Footsteps entered. The door swung shut. Someone moved into the family room. The lightness of the steps confirmed it was a woman. She set something down, then walked into the kitchen. “Hello, Maggie.”

  “Jesus Christ!” She jumped as much as the heels of her shoes would allow. Maggie Braxton, ex-wife of Leo, bought this house once the allegations against her husband became public and credible. Braxton lost all his benefits, and his former wife reaped the rewards—diminished as they were by a reduction in rank from Colonel to Captain for his crimes. It still represented a tidy sum. Maggie was a year older than Tyler and three years younger than Braxton. Her wavy brown hair had gone gray, but she still wore it in the same shoulder-length style. The color looked good on her. In a different situation, Tyler would have called her pretty.

  “Sorry to scare you.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Tyler. What are you doing here?” She paused. “Is this about Leo? I haven’t talked to him since he got out of prison.” She blew out a snort. “Why they let him out is a mystery to me . . . but whatever. What do you want?”

  “Nice to see you, too.”

  Maggie offered a small smile. “You were one of the good ones,” she said. “Leo surrounded himself with a lot of people who loved to shoot first and skip the questions later. I always appreciated your influence on him.” She leaned on a counter and removed her high heels. Maggie’s jeans fit her very well.

  “I don’t know how much of an influence I was,” Tyler said, “all things considered. How’s Hannah?”

  “She’s good,” Maggie replied. “Like you said, all things consi
dered. She knows her dad went to jail. I haven’t told her the exact circumstances yet.”

  “What is she now, seventeen?”

  “Sixteen. Got her license a couple months ago.”

  “I’ll be sure to stay off the sidewalks, then.”

  Maggie chuckled. “She’s actually a good driver.” Silence lingered between them for a couple minutes. Maggie left the counter and sat at the table in a chair to Tyler’s right. “Why are you here?”

  “Leo took Lexi.”

  “What?” Maggie’s eyes widened, and her mouth hung open. After a moment of surprise, she said, “I knew Leo was a monster, but I never thought . . .”

  “Me, neither.”

  “What do you need from me?”

  “Honestly?” Tyler said. “I thought about taking Hannah in exchange.” Maggie’s eyes narrowed, but Tyler continued. “I’m not going to. I don’t think Leo cares enough about her for it to matter.”

  “I wouldn’t let you take her.”

  “I wouldn’t let you stop me.”

  Silence returned. Maggie shook her head, got up, and walked to the fridge. She opened a beer and remained across the kitchen. “So you’re not taking my daughter,” she said. “What did you come here for, then?”

  “Information,” Tyler said. “I’ve been to every place I know Leo is using. No one’s there. I have a feeling what he’s going to want in exchange for Lexi. I’d rather cut things off before we get there.”

  “You think I know where he is?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you think I’m going to tell you?” Maggie said, her eyes throwing daggers. “You break into my house, tell me you considered kidnapping my daughter, and now you want my help? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you were just like the rest of the assholes Leo surrounded himself with.”

  “You know I’m not,” Tyler said, not raising his voice to match hers.

  “Do I?”

  “And you know Lexi. She’s a good kid. She’s starting college in a few months.” Tyler paused to let out a breath at the thought of it. “Unlike Leo, I love my daughter, and I care what happens to her. He has her somewhere. I want her back.” Maggie didn’t say anything. “I’ve been to Columbia and a place near the airport. Oh-for-two.”

  “You’re a piece of work, you know that?” Maggie took a long pull of the beer.

  “I’m well aware.”

  Maggie downed the rest of the beer and spiked the bottle into a trash can. “Are you going to kill Leo?”

  Tyler pondered his reply a moment. “I’m not sure what to say here. I—”

  “The truth, dammit. Tell me the truth. Leo never could. Show me you’re better than him.”

  “Yes,” Tyler said with a nod. “He’s not getting out of this alive, even if it means I go with him, but I’m getting Lexi to safety.”

  Maggie looked at Tyler for a long moment. She turned away, opened the fridge, and carried another beer to the table. “There might be a place,” she said after taking her seat again. “Toward the end of his career, before the last deployment, Leo bought something.” Maggie twisted the cap off the beer and drained a third of the bottle in a single swig. “That son of a bitch. Years after the fact, he still drives me to drink.”

  Tyler gave her a minute before following up. “The place you mentioned?”

  “He and White did it. Something about setting up a base of operations for the future company they were planning. It’s in the city . . . somewhere near the Port of Baltimore.”

  “You know the name they bought it under?”

  “I think Leo’s grandfather. Alphonse Braxton.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Tyler said.

  “It’s all I know.” Maggie shrugged. “How many places can there be over there?” She drank some more beer. “Any other questions?”

  “No.” Tyler stood. “Keep an eye on the obituaries.”

  “I already do every day,” Maggie said.

  33

  Anderson opened the back door. He was huge and imposing, standing at least six-five and built like he enjoyed tackling people—or worse. His wide eyes glaring down at her were very disconcerting. He flashed Lexi a wolfish grin. “Lights out, princess.” He slipped a sack over her head and hoisted her from the car. Lexi tried to shout for help, but the tape on her mouth reduced her cries to mumbles.

  The large man must have carried her over his shoulder. He made sure to rest his hand on her butt and not move it. By the sound of it, someone opened a door for them, and they entered through it. Lexi wished she could see where they were. In the car, Anderson snatched her before she could reposition herself to get her bearings. Now, she’d never know. The odds of getting a message to her dad were slim, but he needed to know her location.

  “Set her down here,” the guy with the Lennon voice said. Anderson squeezed Lexi’s butt so hard it hurt before he tossed her down onto a hard chair. The other man took the bag from her head. He was tall like Anderson but thin, and his face lacked both the mania and cruelty of his compatriot’s.

  “Please, let me go,” Lexi said. The tape muffled it.

  “Shut up!” Anderson roared before the other man could answer. He got in Lexi’s face and jabbed a meaty finger at her. “You sit here and be quiet. Hope your old man shows up while you’re at it.”

  “He will.” Despite her mouth being covered, she didn’t sound too bad. These two could probably guess what she said, anyway. “When he does, he’ll kill you all.”

  “I told you to be quiet.” Anderson backhanded Lexi across the face. It spun her head around and sent her crashing to the floor.

  “For Christ’s sake,” the other guy said. “You heard Braxton. Get out of here, Anderson.”

  “I’m gonna—”

  “Out. Now. If anyone asks why the girl has a bruise on her face, I’ll tell them you did it.”

  “It’d be a mistake,” Anderson said.

  The slender man hit him with a short jab in the solar plexus. Anderson stepped back and sucked wind. “Piss off and go somewhere else. I’ll deal with her.” Anderson’s baleful stare made Lexi’s pulse race anew, but the other guy didn’t seem to care. After a few seconds of staring and posturing, Anderson stomped out of the room. “Sorry about him.” He picked Lexi up gently and set her on the chair. “About the whole thing, really. I didn’t sign up to kidnap girls.”

  Lexi tried to reply, but the tape made it unintelligible. Her captor grabbed one end of it. “If I pull this back, do you swear you won’t scream?” She nodded. “All right. It’ll hurt.” He ripped it off, and fire blazed along Lexi’s lips and cheeks.

  “Holy shit,” she said in a breathless voice. “What’s your name?”

  “Call me Rust.”

  “All right, Rust. Where are we?”

  “I doubt I can tell you,” he said. “I probably shouldn’t have taken the tape off. You start yelling, and I’ll have to put it back.” He picked up another length of rope from a small shelf in the corner.

  “What are you doing with that?” Lexi wanted to know. Blood rushed in her ears again.

  “Gotta make sure you can’t go anywhere.” Rust walked behind her. He took care to stay out of kicking range as he bound her left ankle to the chair leg, then her right. “I’m going to untie your arms. Lean forward.” She did, and Rust undid the knot. Circulation returned to Lexi’s hands. “Enjoy it for a minute.” He bobbed his head toward the arms of the chair.

  “What’s going on? What does Braxton want with my dad?”

  “He hates him.”

  Lexi narrowed her eyes. “It’s mutual.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  “Why do you work for such an asshole, then?”

  Rust shrugged. “Needed a job, and I knew a couple guys who served under Braxton years ago. Once this mess is done with, I think we’ll get back to what the company’s supposed to be doing.”

  “You could do better,” Lexi said. “You’re not like the other guy.”

  “Being nicer than a monster do
esn’t make me a good guy,” Rust said. “Hold out your arms.” Lexi glared at him for a moment but did what he asked. He bound her forearms to the chair. The knots felt looser than last time, and Lexi watched him tie both. “We’ll check on you periodically. Stay quiet, and I won’t need to put the tape back on.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Rust walked out of the room, closed the door, and locked it from the outside. One more obstacle. Lexi looked at her restraints. Rust did a pretty good job with them. He’d probably learned to tie a few hitches in the army. Lexi’s grandfather, however, came from the navy, and he taught her all kinds of knots. She never met her great-grandfather, but she’d heard stories of his exploits on the Underwater Demolition Team, the precursor to the Navy SEALs.

  She could undo these bonds.

  Tyler drove from Maggie’s house. He could go home, gear up, and be at the port to scout the location within an hour. As he neared the city, his phone rang. Braxton. “She’d better be alive.”

  “Tyler, please. I’m not a monster.”

  “The hell you’re not.”

  “A matter of perspective,” Braxton said.

  “I went to Maggie’s house, Leo.” Braxton remained quiet. “Nothing to say, now? She’s fine by the way. Thinks you’re a miserable prick. She was always too smart for you.”

  “What were you doing there?”

  “I considered returning the favor,” Tyler said. “If I thought you gave a shit about Hannah, I would have. Then, we could have made a trade.”

  “You leave my daughter alone,” Braxton said through clenched teeth.

  “Careful, Leo. You came dangerously close to caring about another person there.”

  Braxton sighed. “I wonder why I bother with you sometimes. Listen, dammit. You know I have Lexi. She’s safe. She’s fine. How long she remains this way is up to you.”

  Tyler pulled the 442 against a curb and killed the engine. The Bluetooth died when the stereo winked out, so he held his phone against his ear. “Leo,” Tyler said. “If anything happens to her, I will kill everyone who works for you and everyone in your family. I’ll murder Maggie and Hannah on camera and make you watch it before you die.”