Headhunters (10 page)

I whispered this last bit, but Jessica’s hand still flew to
her mouth as she gasped in shock. She looked as if she was going to be ill.

“Murdered?” She said the word in the same hushed reverence
that I had, then turned and looked over her shoulder as if the mere mention of
the word was grounds for charges being filed. I could only nod.

“How do you know?” she asked.

And that was it. The kicker. The other shoe dropping. How
did I fit in? Was there any way to explain it? I began to tell her. Everything.
There was no point in holding back, in shading the truth. I told her about
Claire. Some things that she knew, most that she did not. I told her about
getting out of Blackthorn, about Kendrick pushing me to work for Donovan, how
he used me as his point man to investigate the DHS situation. Now Chris was
dead and he was likely to implicate me.

“I need to see the Director of the NSA,” I explained. “I can
set things right. Max knows the investigation is coming, but has let me go so
that I can try fix this thing before it gets worse. I need to go, Jess. This
place isn’t safe for me. For all I know, this place isn’t safe for you either.”

I saw something in her eyes then, something behind the tears
that had begun to form. A withdrawal of sorts. I could feel it before she said
a word. She was pulling back from me.

“Jess, I want you to come with me… to get out of here…” And
before I finished my sentence, she was already shaking her head. She breathed
in sobs.

“I can’t… I can’t…” she said. Then she looked at me. “Why
didn’t you tell me? I don’t know you. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I
always thought I could trust you until this. I can’t…” She struggled for words,
but they didn’t come to her.

“Jess, I’m sorry…” I said.

“When Frank left me… after I lost the baby…” Jessica said, “he
enlisted in active duty in the Army. He’d been in the National Guard here in
Illinois. When things didn’t work out with us, he wanted to get away from me.”

She choked out a humorless laugh and wiped her tears.

“I guess Iraq is about as far away from me as a man can
get,” she said. “He’s committed his life to serving this country. He’s on his
third tour now. I don’t think that what he’s doing is wrong, Simon… I just
don’t want to watch another man get taken away from me…”

Before I could say anything else, Jessica turned and left. I
watched her go and knew in my gut that what she was doing was right. Maybe not
right for me. Maybe it didn’t help my cause. But maybe it was right for her. I
swallowed hard and looked at my shoes. My heart was breaking for her leaving. I
was alone now. I had to go. I pushed my emotions aside and began to walk.

I stepped into an empty cubicle and slumped into the chair.
I logged in under my password and instead of being met with the welcome screen,
the desktop computer spat back a flat buzz. I looked closer and the screen read
that my password had been rejected. I huffed and focused and retyped. I was
probably just distracted. Again, the buzz. Invalid password.

Just then, Tom Ellis stormed past the cubicle without seeing
me and made a line for Max Donovan’s office. I’d grown to know that Tom was one
of the most even-tempered people I’d ever met. Strange.

I entered my username and password again, this time typing
in the exaggerated hunt-and-peck style. I knew I typed it in correctly. Still,
I received the error sound. My password wasn’t working... Tom was running to
Max’s office… with a file in his hand…

I decided that it would be best if I got out of the building
sooner rather than later. I could always sort out things on my own time, but
inside corporate walls, your time is not your own. I got up and headed for the
elevators. I was nearly there when the doors opened and two security guards
exited, talking to each other. Unlike most security guards who are dressed like
pseudo-policemen, our guards wore navy blazers and gray pants. The giveaway was
usually the shoes. Few security guards liked wearing leather shoes for all the
amount of patrol time they spent on the floors. Often they opted for black
athletic shoes. These guys were better than most, but the fact that they
matched each other perfectly was a giveaway.

I sidestepped into the copy room and moved away from the
door. I saw them pass. I didn’t want to retrace my steps so I opened the door
at the far end of the copy room and entered the conference room. The shades
were drawn. I could wait a few moments and duck out of there. Then I heard
Max’s voice.

I looked around for a way out. Max plus security guards plus
my password not working equaled Max having a change of heart. A change of heart
and maybe he’d just decide to take his frustrations out on me. There was a
utility closet in the room where the cleaning staff kept a vacuum and supplies.
I stepped into it and closed the door. For the second time that day I was
reminded of the L.A. mission. I was hiding again and not feeling any better
about it.

Max entered the room and beckoned the person behind him to
come in. It was Ellis. He stepped inside and Max closed the door.

“What’s going on, Tom?” Max asked.

“The files are missing,” Ellis began, panicked. “The files
are missing!”

“What files?” Max shot back.

“The DHS files,” Tom said. “I ran a search to enter the
latest project notes and it’s gone.”

“What’s gone?” Max asked. “The project folder?”

“Everything relating to the work we’ve done for Homeland
Security. The folder on the network drive is gone. The backups are gone. The
hardcopies are gone!”

Ellis held out the green hanging file folder as if to prove
that it was devoid of contents. There was no doubt. I could see through the
crack in the door that Max was eyeing Ellis cautiously, unsure of how much to
say.

“Have you talked to Simon about this?” Max asked.

“Simon’s not in his office.”

“Do you think he had anything to do with the files going
missing?” Max asked.

What was he doing? I had just talked to him. He knew I
didn’t take the files. In fact, I’d told him to secure his files… Unless…

“No, it wasn’t Simon,” Ellis replied. “I checked the logs.
The last person to access those files was you.”

Max rocked back on his heels at this news. Max took the
files off his own machines. Ellis had called him on it. Ellis could implicate
Max in the missing files.

Max frowned. His brow furrowed. He looked up at Ellis as if
over ancient spectacles, taking the weight of him. Then he walked to the door
and gestured before stepping back. A moment later the guards appeared.

“Take Mr. Ellis into custody. Take him to the other offices.
We’ll deal with him there.” Max said this in the same tone as if he had asked
someone to call him a taxi.

Ellis’ jaw dropped. It had taken him a moment to process the
words.

“Hey, what are you—?” He didn’t get a chance to finish.

The first guard grabbed Ellis by the arm, the other by the
shoulder. They twisted and Ellis’ face hit the table like a slab of beef. I
heard him groan, but couldn’t see his face. They were handcuffing him. Finally,
one guard stood him upright and I could see Ellis’ face. It was a deep crimson,
well on its way to purple as I was certain he’d be bruised in the morning.

Max held open the door and the guards led Ellis out and to
the elevators. Max turned and walked back to his office. I thought then that I
had a choice. I could go after Max who would probably tell me no more than
before. Or I could go help Ellis. I saw it clearly. Enough people had suffered
for me. I could stop this.

I stepped out of the closet and exited the conference room.
I walked quickly in the direction of the elevators, careful not to run,
fighting back the urge. The doors closed just before I got there. They’d be
taking Ellis to the parking garage. I turned and shoved the door to the
stairwell open. The place where Chris’ body had been only hours before was
cleaned. No, not cleaned I realized… painted. Chris’ body was gone. I touched
the wall and my hand came away with a slightly tacky feeling to it. Wet paint.
Someone was trying to cover up what had happened here. Why? The pieces weren’t
falling together yet but I knew they would in time.

I turned to run down the stairs when I heard a woman’s voice
behind me. I turned, hoping it to be Jessica. The stairwell door opened, but it
wasn’t Jessica looking for me. It was Christine.

“Um, hi,” I said. “Kind of in a hurry.”

“I know,” Christine replied. “Okay, I’m not very good at
this. I told Ellis to get the DHS files. He was doing it because I told him to.
He was trying to impress me by going to Max to find them. It’s my fault that
Max had him arrested.”

“Wow,” I said.

“Yes, well, there’s more. I know who you are. I know about
the car crash in Alexandria. I know about Blackthorn. Jessica told me.”

“She told you?” I asked.

“Girls talk. Shut up. Look, I know you’re trying to help
Tom. It’s not his fault that he fell into this. But you’re officially persona
non grata around here and your security card probably isn’t even going to get
you out of the building. So... here…”

Christine handed me her security badge and numbly I took it.

“You won’t be able to get across the skywalk without it,”
she said.

“Thank you,” I replied, my voice quiet. We’d never liked
each other, but in times like this, that didn’t seem to matter.

“Well, go!” she said. She brushed her arms forward as if
shooing away a stray dog. At least we were still on the same terms. I ran down
the stairs, three at a time.

***

Once I made my way to the parking
garage, it was no difficulty finding Ellis. He was still cuffed and sandwiched
between the guards. When Ellis had been hit in the conference room, he had been
dazed and gone along quietly while the pain rang in his head. In the garage, he
was slowly rousing out of his fog. I had to stop him before he said anything to
piss off the guards.

The way I saw it, I had two choices. One, I could use force.
But for all I knew, the guards were just following orders and doing their jobs.
Or I could use some finesse. I excelled at finesse. Even if it was just my
style of finesse.

“Hey! I’ve been waiting fifteen minutes. Where the hell have
you been?” I shouted.

The guards turned to look at me, then each other, then back
to me.

“Come on! I’m supposed to take this clown across town to the
other office. Let’s go!” I said. “I’m parked over here.”

The older of the two guards was getting his wits about him.

“You’re Simon Parks,” he said.

“Damn right,” I fired back.

“We’re supposed to bring you in to see Mr. Donovan,” the
guard replied.

“I’ve already seen Mr. Donovan,” I replied dismissively.
“How do you think I know that I’ve got to take Ellis across town?”

The guards looked at each other again, then back.

“Maybe I better call Mr. Donovan,” the other guard offered.

“Sure, great thinking,” I replied. “By the way, ask him to
write you a letter of reference because he is going to fire your ass.”

“Fire—fire me? Why?” the guard asked.

“He’s going to fire both of you,” I said matter-of-factly.
“Who do you suppose let this piece of shit walk out of the building with the
company files?”

I kicked Ellis in the ass to accentuate my point. A grin had
begun to creep onto his face up to this point and I needed him to play the
role. The kick in the ass kept him playing it straight.

“Now we’ve got the fucking IRS breathing down our necks
because of you two jerk-offs. So go ahead and call Mr. Donovan and see what he
says…” I let my words hang for a moment. “Or I can take him off your hands and
maybe put in a good word for you. Maybe you’ll even get to keep your jobs.”

They did their dance again, looking at each other, then me,
then Ellis, then me again.

“Okay, Mr. Parks,” the guard said. “Thank you. Do you need a
hand—?”

“I’ve got enough hands as it is, pal. Hit the fucking
bricks.”

And with that I walked away with Tom Ellis in my care. When
we were out of sight, I retrieved my keys from my pocket. I had taken to
keeping a handcuff key on my ring. It had been a joke, but proven more useful
than I could count. I unlocked the cuffs and looked at Ellis who was regarding
me suspiciously.

“My ass hurts, Simon,” he said with a wary smile.

“Imagine if I’d have left you with those two,” I replied.

We got to my car and I stopped, looked around. We were
clear.

“Listen,” I told him. “You were right about what you said.
Max is in this thing up to his ears. He took the DHS files. I think he had
help.”

“Aww, shit…” Ellis moaned.

“I know… look. I’ll call you. But get out of town. Don’t use
your car. Don’t go home. Just go. I’ll call you when I can.”

“You’re aces, man,” he said. “I love ya!”

Ellis hugged me and God help me I hugged him back. He was a
weird duck, but he didn’t deserve to be hurt over this.

“Put some ice on that,” I said, pointing to his eye.

He nodded and smiled then began to jog away, heading for the
stairs.

I ran the other way. I stepped over the railing and dropped
to the parking level below. I ducked between parked cars and performed the same
operation, dropping to the next floor down.

I was planning to head for the exit. I needed to sprint
across the open distance of garage, leap the barrier and climb through the
bushes on the other side and I’d be free. I waited, then bolted for the far
side. I heard the screech of tires and realized it was too late for me to turn
back. I was in the path of headlights coming right for me.

Chapter Ten

There was no time to get out of the
way of the approaching car. I was too far out into the open lane of the parking
garage ramp. I wasn’t fast enough to outrun the car before it bore down on me.
Not close enough to dodge back the way I’d come. All I could do was brace
myself for impact.

The tires screeched and nose of the car dipped severely as
the driver braked. The car was decelerating but not quickly enough. I tried to
jump in the air so that my legs weren’t snapped like twigs. My foot caught on
the bumper and in a clumsy sideways pirouette I spun to the pavement. The car
had stopped and wasn’t going to mash me under its tires, at least not in that
moment, so I took a second to evaluate my injuries.

My hands were beginning to bleed where I tried to stop
myself from falling. That was painful, but minor. My back was fine. Not great,
but fine. I tried to stand. My left knee was skinned in a grown-up version of a
schoolyard injury. I never remembered them hurting that badly. Didn’t remember
them at all to be honest. My knee felt like it was on fire and some maniacally
misled firefighter was trying to put it out with gasoline. But that was okay,
it was my ankle that concerned me. I attempted to put weight on it but the
throbbing ache that shot through me… that hopeless inability to put weight on
it brought me up short.

I put one hand on the fender of the car and stood slowly,
willing my legs to move. I straightened, testing my strength. My eyes met those
of the driver and I realized that I was expecting a stranger, perhaps even the
security patrol car. Instead I found myself looking at Jessica. Her eyes were
wide with shock, her brow furrowed in concern. I cast a quick look around and
limped to her window.

 “Oh my God, Simon! Are you okay?” She asked.

 “No, you just hit me with your car,” I replied and tried to
smile, but it must have looked more like a grimace to her.

“Are you hurt?” she asked again.

“I’ll be okay,” I said. I knew that I joked sometimes to cut
through the tension, but I couldn’t laugh off the situation, let alone the
injury. I prayed that my ankle wasn’t broken. I owed it to Jess to tell her the
truth and not hide it.

“Simon?” Jessica said, her voice wavering, trying not to,
but faltering anyway. “What you said before, about Chris, about Max… all of it…
is it true?”

I’d been where Jessica was in that moment. So deep in the
crisis that knowing which way was up was difficult. Now, in this case, who
could you trust? Everything was compromised. Nothing could be accepted at face
value. At first, all I could do was nod.

“It’s true,” I said. “God help me, but it’s all true. I’d
give anything in this world for things to be back the way they were before all
of this happened. I never wanted things to turn out this way. I never wanted to
be in the middle of it. To put you in the middle of it…”

Jessica and I looked at each other then in that moment, her
eyes on mine, reading my face. I let myself be open to her, not concealing
anything, not shading the truth. I let her read me completely and felt more exposed
than I had in recent memory.

“And I’ll do whatever it takes to get us out,” I said at
last.

“I believe you,” she said finally. Then she smiled and I
couldn’t help but feel my heart melt at the warmness of it.

“Pop the trunk,” I said.

“I’m sorry?”

“Pop the trunk,” I repeated without irritation and added a
smile.

Jessica, God bless her, did what I asked and popped the
trunk. I sat on the lip of the trunk, then leaned back into the well, careful
not to bang my ankle as I got in. Once inside, I reached up and slammed the lid
closed. I was enveloped in the darkness and strangely enough, felt safe for the
moment. The car moved and I realized I’d forgotten to brace my hands inside the
trunk so I wouldn’t slide around.

I felt the car ease down the ramp, then the crazy spin of
the corner and the world seemed to turn upside down, then correct itself. I
heard the brakes, then a long stop, then conversation. She was talking to
someone.

The security gate, I realized. We were at the security gate.
I wondered how the discussion would go… Jessica had just arrived in the
building, now turning around and leaving… Would the guard question? Did someone
see me get in the trunk? Could the guards I’d warned off of Ellis have possibly
talked to Max and realized their error?

I envisioned them stopping the car at the gate just long
enough for the guards to arrive, guns drawn and corner me in the trunk, waiting
to pop the lock and then catch me or kill me. And what would happen to Jessica
then? Witness to all of this… what would they do with her?

My mind raced through possibilities and while my mind
worked, my hands found the Glock in my pocket and I readied myself in case
something should happen. But in the end, I could hear the lower tone of the
guard speaking and the muffled inflection of the unmistakably bored “Have a
nice day…” I was well beyond having a nice day, but a moment later, the car
rolled forward and I could feel Jessica accelerate out into traffic.

Fifteen minutes later, jostling through morning traffic in
Chicago, we finally arrived at our destination. The car stopped at last and I
waited. And waited. And then began to wonder what it was like for the children
of the parents who left their kids in the car because they were “only running
inside for a second.”

Finally, the trunk lid disengaged and Jessica opened it. The
light hit my eyes, blinding me, but I forced myself to move. Nothing more
unusual than a man getting out of the trunk of a car. And people noticed
unusual things. The last thing I needed just then was to be noticed.

“Sorry,” Jessica said. “There were people in the lot.”

“You read my mind,” I replied and got out as quickly as I
could manage.

I looked around and realized that we were in a small side
lot for a little Italian café named Valerio’s. We’d talked about going there
but never had managed to find the time. I needed time though, would make time
if that’s what was required.

“Oh…” I said, reading the sign. “How romantic. Madame?”

I offered Jessica my arm and she took it and together we
walked to the front door. She seemed to glide when she walked, all athletic
grace. I bit my lip and tried not to limp on my bad ankle. We made quite the
couple.

I held the door for her and took the opportunity to brace
myself on the doorway before entering. The maitre d’ greeted us and I indicated
a table for two, then slipped her a bill and whispered that we’d need a table
in the back. I added, “It’s a very big day,” and gave her a wink. She smiled
knowingly and escorted us to a back table where we could have some privacy.

I pulled out Jessica’s chair for her, then sat across from
her so that my back was to the wall and I could see the entire room including
the entrance and the hall to the kitchen. We received our menus and the server
disappeared.

“You know you always do that?” she asked. She was not
annoyed, just making an observation, something she did not know if I was aware
of.

“What’s that? Oh… the..” I indicated our seating
arrangement.

“Mm-hmm,” she replied with a smile.

“Sorry.”

“You apologize too much,” she scoffed.

“I have a lot to apologize for…” I said, but lost myself in
the menu, not really wanting to discuss it.

A moment later the waitress reappeared to take our order. I
looked at Jessica and she nodded at me and put down her menu. I ordered us two
espressos and biscotti to share. The waiter smiled, took our menus and again
disappeared into the back. Jessica took notice.

“What did you tell the maitre d’?” she asked.

“That today was a ‘big day’,” I said and waggled my
eyebrows.

Jess laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, well, you did ask me to run away with you,” she said.

I couldn’t help myself and laughed.

“I’m sorry,” I said a moment later. “Sorry that it came to
be this way.”

Jess waved her hand, dismissively.

“What are we going to do now?” she asked. “That’s what’s
important.”

I nodded and before I could answer, our orders arrived. I
asked for ice water as well, apologizing for making her run. She was gone and
back in an instant. I took a sip of my coffee and let the liquid warm me down
through my chest into my stomach. Then glancing around, I crossed my legs,
bringing my injured ankle up to rest on my opposite knee. I unfolded my napkin
and spooned ice out of the glass, folded the napkin over, creating a makeshift
icepack and then made it disappear under the table. Jessica was chewing on
biscotti watching me perform this process.

“Has this happened to you before?” she asked.

“Variations on a theme,” I shrugged. “Do you have any
ibuprofen?”

Jessica checked her purse, rummaged for a second, offered me
a breath mint while she continued to look, then came up with two tablets. I
took them, swallowed them down with the water and thanked her.

“I need to make some calls,” I said. “I’ll be discreet, but
we need to try to find a way out of this. You mentioned the way I sit with my
back to the wall and you’re right, I do that. But look at the picture above me.
With the light coming in, you can see the reflection of the whole room behind
you. Surveillance isn’t just about what you can see. It’s about what you can
see without being seen. Watch the room for me while I make a few calls, okay?”

Through this, Jessica’s eyes flicked up to the picture, took
in the information, understood and applied it. At last she nodded and watched
me work.

I dialed a number from memory. It was a Virginia prefix.
When the automated voice came on, I punched in a six-digit extension. The line
was silent for a long moment, then a trilling ring could be heard.

“Station V,” the voice came back.

“This is Blackthorn,” I said, my voice hard. “Go secure.”

“Authorize,” the voice shot back.

In any other intelligence organization, my authorization
codes would have been long since defunct. However, I had an ace up my sleeve,
something that Randall Kendrick didn’t know. Or at least I hoped he didn’t
know.

Years before, the daughter of the NSA Director Jack Sinclair
had gotten married. As time passed, the Director noticed his daughter was
unhappy. Mrs. Sinclair spoke to the daughter and word came out that she
suspected her new husband to be cheating on her. Director Sinclair could not
directly use his resources to look into the situation, but if he could use
someone disconnected from official channels, someone like me, he might be able
to pull it off.

I worked for Director Sinclair on a private basis for six
weeks. It wasn’t difficult to find basis for his concerns. Sinclair asked me to
rectify the problem and I did. I spoke to the husband once, showed him a
digital video I had of him, explained the ramification of embarrassing this
man’s daughter. He took my point well.

His daughter is now happily married.

During my time of private employment with Director Sinclair,
he gave me my own authorization code, outside of NSA or Blackthorn channels. I
used it now.

“One moment please…” the voice said, then was gone.

A moment later the voice came back.

“Director Sinclair is unavailable at this time.”

“It’s critical that I speak to him immediately,” I said.
“I’ll hold.”

“Director Sinclair is briefing POTUS right now,” the voice
said. POTUS… the President of the United States. Fantastic.

“Fine,” I replied. “Please have him contact me at this
number post-haste after the briefing.” I left my cell number and rang off.

“That didn’t sound like it went well,” Jessica said.

“Not the way I wanted,” I replied. “But it’s a delay, not a
denial.”

I had to think for a moment, I cradled my head in my hand
and wracked my brain for a number. I’ve been told that I have a photographic
memory. Perhaps that’s the case. It’s always worked for me in the same way that
a file drawer works for other people. I scan down through contents and
associations until I can place something in context, then the information is
there, right where I left it. The phone number came to me then, clear as if I
was reading it. My fingers flew over the numbers. I waited for the phone to
ring. The call was answered on the third ring.

“Hello?” It was Alaina, scared and uncertain.

“Alaina! It’s Simon.”

“Oh thank God! Where are you?” she asked. I’d called her on
the prepaid cell phone I’d purchased months before. In the background I could
hear David and Melissa asking who it was and if they could talk. It still
amazed me how kids could want to talk on the phone even when they didn’t know
who they were talking with… that childlike trust… that trust we lose as adults…
and I realized that I mourned the loss of that innocence.

“I’m still in Chicago,” I said. “Listen, I’m going to come
find you as soon as I can but you need to keep going right now, okay? Can you
tell me where you are?”

The question was out before I could stop myself. I didn’t want
her to disclose her location over the cell phone. It was too easy to intercept
cell phone conversations. I should know.

“We’re half an hour away from the cabin on…”

“Great!” I said, cutting her off. “Excellent, go to the
cabin and stay there. That’s the best thing to do. You found everything I left
for you at the storage locker?”

“Sure, we’ve got plenty of money, food, gas… everything. The
one thing I don’t have is an explanation.”

I cringed.

“I know, Alaina. I know. All I can tell you right now is that
it has to do with the men that came to the house that day. But I’m handling it
here. You don’t have to worry about it. Take the kids to the cabin and stay
there. We’ll join you as soon as we can.”