Favors and Lies (29 page)

“The two of you share the same vocabulary,” Major replied, amused.

“Fuck you,” Dan and Sue said simultaneously.

Major walked back over to the table and looked down at the options at his disposal.

Dan glanced over at Sue. “How's the eye?”

“I'll survive.”

“You have some explaining to do.”

“I'm sorry. Let's just leave it at that.”

“Impressive, by the way. I'm usually good at spotting liars. I'm beginning to think, however, that it may be a perishable skill.”

“It wasn't an even playing field. You were in mourning.”

“What is your real name?”

“My real name is Sue.”

“Convenient.”

“You have a plan to get us out of here?”

“Working on one.”

“You want to share it with me?”

“Nope.”

—

Major picked a stun gun off the wood table and smiled at the arc of electricity as it jumped between the two conductors protruding from the top of the handheld device. He returned the stun gun to the table, smiled, and rubbed the knuckles on his hand, alternating between fists. Still grinning, he slowly walked over to his subjects, restrained in their respective chairs, and continued his deranged rendition of foreplay.

“Pathetic really,” Major said. “I expected so much more from you, Dan.”

“Sorry to disappoint. I didn't know there was a level of expectation.”

Major stepped in front of Sue and slapped her across the face with an open palm, her neck snapping violently to the side.

“Any other smart comments, Dan?”

Dan looked at Sue as she straightened her head, a large red handprint on her cheek. “Keep your teeth together. You won't bite your tongue,” Dan whispered.

Major looked down at Sue and smeared the blood that was on Sue's lip with his finger. Sue pulled her head away in disgust.

“You know, killing people is really overrated. The warm-up, the foreplay, that is where the joy is,” Major said. “Men have been killing each other since the beginning of time. There is no creativity left to it.”

“I agree. I am sure I speak for both of us when I say we can skip the killing part of the show,” Dan replied.

Dan grunted as Major landed an elbow to the side of his head.

“I thought you were smarter than that,” Major said.

“So did I,” Dan mumbled.

“Here is how the next few minutes are going to play out. We are going to get to know each other a little better. Then, I am going to take that rope over there and hang Dan from one of these ceiling beams. We will all watch as he unceremoniously shits and pisses himself. Then he will die.”

“Good thing these aren't my dress pants.”

Major stepped in with his left hand and Dan gritted his teeth through the effects of a punch to face.

“Once you stop twitching, your face gruesomely contorted, frozen in the effort for another breath that will not come, I will put the semi-automatic .45 in your hand, aim it at the princess's head, and pull the trigger. That will provide good crime scene evidence. A nice little murder-suicide. Man takes girlfriend to his secret little abode. Man gets violent. Man shoots girlfriend. Man hangs himself.”

“I already told you, technically it would be a murder-murder.”

Major reached down and grabbed Dan's wrist. He slowly undid the rubber strap, pulled sharply upward, and removed Dan's new watch from his tied arm. He eyeballed his latest souvenir, flashing the timepiece for his limited audience.

“You won't need this. I have a nice spot for it on my mantle. Right next to a police detective's badge and a very cool alligator-skin wallet.”

“It was Australian crocodile, asshole. And I am going to want that wallet back.”

“You know, your nephew was also a little upset when I took the wallet. Now I understand why. A personal gift from Uncle Dan. I may have to put it in its own little showcase.”

“Fuck you.”

Major moved behind Sue and gently massaged both shoulders. Then he ran his hand up to her hairline and yanked on the gold chain around her neck, pulling off her necklace in one quick motion. He looked at the cross with the silver metal beams of sunlight streaking from the sides.

“You piece of shit,” Sue said.

“I think she is going to want that back, too,” Dan added.

Major dropped his latest acquisitions off at the old wooden table and then pulled a large knife from his pocket. He looked at his prized captives and smirked as he cut the packaging off the thick rope. He whispered something to Ridge and the large man's hands moved to the .45 semiautomatic on the table. Ebony removed the magazine, cleared the chamber, and then began a full weapons check and wipe down.

Major continued. “How much rope do you think we need here, Dan? We have low ceilings and you are probably six foot one or so. We may have to move to the other side of the main support column. I think the ceiling is a little higher on the other side of the room. Tough to hang someone with their feet hitting the floor.”

“We could try,” Dan replied.

“Oh, I am sure you would appreciate that.”

Major used his arms to measure off a length of rope suitable to the task at hand and then stepped to the other side of the room, his eyes focused upward in search of an appropriate location to hang a noose. “I haven't lynched anyone in a while. Probably a couple of years. Ridge did your sister-in-law, but I was busy with your nephew at the time.”

Major set the rope on the ground and jumped upward with extended hands. He hung momentarily from a large floor-support beam and then lowered himself back to the ground. “That one should work.”

Major threw the rope over the top of the beam and pulled the noose downward. He admired his knot-tying skills and adjusted the opening on the noose. Looking through the circle shape at the end of the rope, Major smiled at Dan. “Think your head will fit?”

“Try it out.”

“I think not,” Major replied. “Ridge, could you prepare Dan for his demise?”

“Just a moment,” Ridge replied wiping his fingerprints off the handgun on the table. He tossed a white towel to the side and swiped a loaded syringe off the table as he turned.

Dan's pulse increased as he alternated glances between death by hanging to the left, and mysterious drug injection on the right. On the other side of the room, Major began describing the sequence of the body's reaction to being hung as he searched for an appropriate location to affix the non-business end of the noose.

Ridge, syringe in hand, passed behind Dan first and then Sue. Major, relishing his expertise in incessant speech and the systematic shutdown of organs, didn't take his attention off the rope or his pontification until Ridge had sunk the syringe into his neck and depressed the plunger.

Dan glanced at Sue, who returned the look of surprise.

Ridge looked over at Dan and Sue as he dropped Major's body to the floor. “Orders,” Ridge offered, taking the pulse of his partner. As Major's chest rose and fell in slowing increments, Ridge turned away from Dan and Sue. He grabbed the end of the rope and pulled it in the direction of the far wall.

—

Dan glanced at Sue and nodded.

Ridge was twenty feet away, tying the support end of the rope to a vertically running cast-iron pipe. Major was on the floor, the syringe in his neck still slowly twitching.

Now or never.
Dan took a deep breath and stood, his lower legs still attached to the chair, his wrists tied to each other behind his back. Before Ridge looked over, he threw himself forward, headfirst.

The somersault and resulting break-fall had the desired effect as the old chair Dan was sitting on splintered into pieces. Ridge turned, registered what he was seeing, and started to move as Dan struggled to get his hands over his feet and back in front of his body.

Using Dan's gravity experiment as an example, Sue leaned over in her chair, falling at Ridge as he passed, momentarily tripping the big man and providing enough time for Dan to get his hands in front of him.

Dan stood as Ridge regained his balance. Dan stepped back to gain distance and then turned away. He drove his zip-tied hands forward until his arms were straight in front of him. He reversed directions on his arm thrust and pulled his elbows back as far as they would go with adrenaline-pumping force. The law of physics did the rest as the zip ties on his wrist snapped at the point where they were joined.

Dan turned and Ridge's massive right hand contacted with his forehead, causing the gash on his eyebrow to re-open. The blood flowed more freely with the second injury to the same location and Dan strained to see through the crimson lens of his left eye.

The next moment Dan was in a bear hug, his breath evacuated, his ribs crushed. Through his impaired vision, Dan stared into the darkness of Ridge's black pupils.

Face-to-face, Ridge held Dan in his arms, his muscles straining, veins bulging on his neck. Holding Dan in a bear hug, Ridge walked steadily in the direction of the hanging noose. Dan unleashed a battery of assaults on Ridge's head. He used open palm slaps to burst the eardrums and thumb thrusts to the eyes. Ridge was unfazed. Dan tried to breathe as he looked over his shoulder at the fast-closing destination. Feet and arms flailing, Dan felt the edge of the noose slip over his head and onto his forehead.

Dan thrashed his neck violently and the noose fell off to the side. Dan jammed his fingers into the base of Ridge's throat and Dan heard a small groan. Again Dan smashed his open palms into the side of Ridge's ears. Ridge squeezed tighter and readjusted his aim on the noose. Every move of Dan's arms opened his torso to more assault. His diaphragm was compressed to its limit. The physical exertion combined with decreased lung capacity took its toll. Frantic, Dan saw stars. Somewhere in his oxygen-deprived brain a countdown began.
Eight seconds before unconsciousness,
he thought.
Eight seconds before the end. Eight seconds before Ridge here can do anything he wants to me.

In one quick motion, Dan moved both his hands to Ridge's face and shoved his thumbs into opposite corners of the big man's mouth. Ridge's eyes bulged as Dan drove his thumbs into the crease between Ridge's molars and the inside of his cheeks. With three seconds before blackout, Dan released a primal yell and yanked his thumbs outwards and back towards Ridge's ears.

The flesh on Ebony's face ripped like blood-sewn fabric, his cheeks now open wounds, molars visible. Dan's feet hit the floor as Ridge reached for his own face. The guttural scream that exploded from Ridge sent the hair on Dan's neck up at attention as he gasped for air.

Ridge's eyes flashed open in horror at his blood-soaked hands. Dan raised his foot and stomped downward, meeting Ridge's shin and powering downward to crush the top bone of Ridge's foot. A second stomp to the end of Ridge's toes was next, followed by a kick to the groin and an outside knee to the side of the thigh.

Ridge regained his posture, face open, blood flowing. He reversed the assault, swinging wildly at his smaller opponent. Dan sidestepped the raging bull and then reached up for a support beam in the ceiling. Hanging by his arms he kicked both feet as Ridge turned. The soles of Dan's shoes met the middle of Ridge's face. The big man stumbled back and Dan charged forward, shoulder first. The impact drove Ridge backwards, leaving him teetering on the edge of the small, covered well. Dan moved in for the final assault and the deafening discharge from the .45 handgun silenced the room.

Dan slowly looked over his shoulder and found himself staring down the barrel of the .45. Sue's face was perfectly aligned down the center of the handgun on the other side of the sights.

—

The sound of snapping wood planks ripped Dan's attention away from the business end of the handgun and back at Ridge, who was now grasping his chest. The inertia of the gunshot provided enough energy to tip the ex-marine over the lip of the old well. His backside hit first, momentarily resting on the wood planks as if the big man was choosing to sit down. Dan felt a moment of guilt as he took one final look at a life wasted. Then the wood-planked top of the well cracked and Ridge disappeared, his feet folding upward towards his bloody face as the darkness below welcomed him.

Dan stood and Sue's hands started to shake. He stepped off the firing line, raised his hand slowly, and repeated what he had been taught when confronted with an armed adversary. “Relax. I am unarmed. Lower the gun,” he repeated soothingly.

Sue slowly dropped her hands before releasing her grip on the weapon. The gun thudded softly on the dirt cellar floor. Her hands were still bound together at the wrist with zip ties. Her unbuckled belt hung from the restraints between her still-bound hands, the black leather accessory dangling down to her knees.

“Nice escape.”

“My hands were tied in front of me, looped around the belt. All I had to do was unbuckle it and pull. The gun was loaded on the table.”

“And I kept him occupied for you. Are you OK?”

“I will be.”

Dan retrieved the knife Major used to cut the rope for the noose. He sliced the remains of the zip ties off each wrist and then cut the final tie off his calf. Freed, he turned his attention towards Sue.

After several additional precision cuts with the knife, Sue joined Dan in emancipation. Hands still shaking, she rubbed her wrists. Dan crouched and approached Major's unmoving body. He checked for a pulse on Major's carotid. “He is still alive.”

“What do we do?”

“Get the hell out of here.”

Dan rifled through Major's pockets, tossing car keys, a wallet, and a cell phone into a pile next to the knife he had just used. He looked up momentarily at the noose dangling above and performed a sign of the cross, silently mumbling something to himself. He moved Major's belongings from the ground to the wood table as Sue carefully approached the top of the well. Not trusting her coordination with a body full of adrenaline, she lowered herself onto all fours and peered over the edge into the blackness. “How deep is it?”

“About thirty feet. You shot him center mass at pointblank range with a .45. He did not survive.”

Sue's face turned pale with a mix of emotions. A combination of guilt, disgust, and admiration. “You tore his face open.”

“He was trying to kill me. It was a move of last resort. I was told the technique was called ‘the Joker.' The reason is obvious.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“A special forces soldier. I was told it was most effective as an escape technique. Something to be used when you need to remove yourself from a situation with multiple assailants. To divert the attention of an angry mob, for example. I wasn't sure it would actually work.”

“It was the most awful thing I've ever seen.”

“Certainly in the top ten,” Dan conceded, before starting to parse the inventory on the old wooden table. He reacquired his cell phone and turned the volume back up. He lovingly retightened the strap on his newly purchased watch. He picked up the vial of liquid that had been injected into Major and held the small glass bottle to the light.

“What do you think it is?”

“I don't know. But my guess is Major was never going to walk out of this basement. Ridge had a plan and Major didn't know about it. Reed Temple is cleaning up after himself. Paid Ridge to take care of Major. And you can bet there was a plan to end Ridge as well.”

“I guess we did Temple a favor.”

“You did him a favor. I merely injured him. You shot him.”

Sue rolled her eyes and then grabbed her necklace, glanced at the broken clasp and carefully slid it into her pocket.

Dan grabbed a handful of zip ties and shoved them into the thigh pockets on his pants. He pocketed the knife Major had used to cut the rope and retrieved the gun from the floor, releasing the magazine into his hand and ejecting the round in the chamber. He grabbed Sue's cell phone off the table and held it up. “Is this yours?”

Sue reached for the phone and Dan retracted his arm. He deftly turned and tossed the phone into the well. A single clank reverberated from the open hole as the phone hit the stone wall on the way down.

“What the hell did you do that for?”

“Insurance. I don't want you to disappear again and claim you have no knowledge of what transpired here.”

Dan pulled Major's driver's license from his wallet and held the ID up to eye level. “Says here Major's real name is Steve Jackson. Lives in the West End, near Georgetown. ” Dan poked through the rest of the wallet and then slipped Major's driver's license into his pocket. He plucked a set of car keys off the far end of the table and held them up. “What car did you come in?”

“The burgundy four-door sedan,” Sue replied, sulking. “The same one you took pictures of during the stakeout at the coffee shop.”

“Were you blindfolded?”

“After they put me in the car, they bound me and blindfolded me.”

“When you arrived, how long was the walk from the car to the house?”

“A few seconds.”

“Good, then the car is in the driveway or on the street in front of the house. We need transportation.”

“What happened to my car?” Sue asked.

“I traded up and Reed Temple took the new one.” Dan gripped the keys in his fist and joined Sue in taking a panoramic glance around the basement.

“I don't think we are going to be able to clean this up,” Sue said.

“Not you and I. Broken furniture. Blood. A body in the well. Another unconscious on the floor. Footprints . . . Forget it. Time to go.”

“Where?”

“Outside. I need to make a couple of calls.”