Precipice (20 page)

“Shannon?” Dominic’s voice cracked. Olayemi uttered something further after inviting Shannon into the room, but Dominic didn’t hear it.

Her name struck him like a baseball bat. He gawked at her standing in the doorway. His mind reeled and for a second, he forgot he was in a dungeon, lashed to a chair, with a sadistic radical in front of him straight out of the heart of darkness.

Questions flew through his head at a hundred miles a minute, faster than he could verbalize them.
Shannon worked for this monster? She was a mole? A double agent? For how long? And more importantly, why?

“What are you doing here?”
Well, that was a stupid question,
he mentally kicked himself.
It was obvious what she was doing there.

“Hi Dominic. Surprised to see me?” She raised an eyebrow and gave a half-smile.

You could say that again.
“You set me up?”

He glanced to his left. The creepy face of Olayemi smugly grinned back, causing Dominic to shudder. This man had pulled one over on a federal SISA agent and was getting away with it.

“I’m sorry. You were getting too close.” Her voice was expressionless, as though she speaking to a brick wall.

Dominic cast his mind back to the club the night before. “So when you were talking to Mack…”
She sent him away to prevent him from finding out too much! It wasn’t about his temper at all!

“I couldn’t allow Mack to reveal something jeopardizing. You were already jumping at the bit to charge after Amadi.”

“And that phone call…”
Sloan didn’t know…

“…was to Yemi.” She nodded in the direction of the African radical. “And I was the one who delivered the photograph to Sloan, too.”

It all clicked into place. She’d played him perfectly. That temper of his had once again led to rash behavior. She exploited it, parlaying his predictability into a trap. Pressure formed behind his eyes, but he fought off the tears. Anger was more his style.

Yemi interrupted his thoughts. “I’ll leave you two alone…”

For such an evil, despicable man, he certainly couldn’t stop smiling that hideous grin. He stood and in one smooth motion, swept his chair off to one side, set it against the wall, and exited. The door crashed shut behind him, the bars in the window rattling at the force.

Dominic gawked at Shannon. His jaw gaped at her deceit and he snapped it shut. “You do realize this is treason? You’ll be in jail for the rest of your life. And that’s if you’re lucky!”

For a long time, he’d struggled with his former partner’s betrayal. Not until today had he discovered it wasn’t true. Amadi was innocent. Rather, his current partner had done the betraying, setting him up for capture and probably death.

Unable to grasp the rollercoaster of emotions, he guessed it was akin to having your legs violently and painfully ripped from under you, only to see it happen yet again after managing to stagger back to your feet.
Some agent I am,
he thought bitterly.
Can’t even keep track of who’s betraying me.

Shannon took her time with her answer. When she did speak, the bite to her voice frightened him. “You don’t know me,” she snapped. He’d never heard such bitterness from her. “I only did what I had to do.”

“What about Brendan? What would he think?” Her face turned red and her countenance darkened at the name of her ex-fiancé. He’d hit a sore spot.

“I did what I had to.” Her response was sharp and stinging.

“I can see that.” He snarled. “So what now? You have
Yemi
kill me? Or will you off me yourself?” He spat the words.

Her tone softened and she frowned. “Actually, I’ve been preventing that. He wanted to, but that was my one condition for bringing you in.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m so thankful…”
So generous…

He flexed his muscles again, but in vain. A rivulet of sweat formed just above his right eye before descending over his brow and drifting downwards into the corner of the eye. He blinked furiously, trying to expel the salty solution that blurred his vision. He thought he saw a similar tear forming in Shannon’s eye, but when the room became clear again, it appeared all in his imagination. No such tear was present.

Shannon reached into her pocket and pulled out a small item. As she stretched out her arm, Dominic recognized the shape of a syringe. He flinched backwards, “What’s that?”

“It will help you sleep.” She injected the needle into Dominic’s upper arm and depressed the syringe. “Again, I’m sorry Dom. I really am.”

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Dominic alone once again, with only his bitterness to keep him company. As he stewed, a dizziness washed over him and the world went black.

***

He’d been running for several minutes now. His chest heaved as he fought for enough oxygen to keep going. To stop now would be the end of him, so he fought through the pain. A burning coursed through his lungs and he struggled for breath, but still he ran. Bare feet, ripped and raw from the jagged terrain, pounded against the dirt beneath his toes.

He used his fingers for leverage, grasping at the rough brick wall to help him maneuver around the corner of a building. At the peak of his swing, however, loose brick gave way beneath his right hand. Skin scraped off his finger as he struggled to keep his grasp. He fought to keep his balance and planted his foot right into a deep patch of mud. It instantly gave way. His knee bent the wrong way at the sudden lack of foundation and he fell, a sharp pain racing along the neuronal pathway to his brain. He was forced to ignore it.

With every wasted second, the pursuing footsteps gained on him; it was the one thing that echoed louder than the heartbeats against his ribcage, threatening to break through at any second. He struggled to his feet. Time was running out. His pursuer would be on him any second. He needed to find a safe refuge in which to hide. Desperately, he searched his surroundings. The alley wasn’t designed for a game of hide and seek. The sole equipment present that provided enough room to conceal him was a small dumpster about ten feet away.

He limped as quickly as he could straight for it and scrabbled wildly at the cover. He mustered as much strength as he could and heaved against its heavy metal lid, lifting it just enough to scramble through. He plunged downwards for a split second before landing with a soft plop on the pile of rotting garbage at the bottom. And not a moment too soon. Right as the lid closed behind him with a soft thud, footsteps entered the alley.

Sensing the walls closing in and his time becoming shorter, he crouched as low as possible. Maybe, just maybe, the pursuer would pass by without checking inside. He struggled to control the strain in his breaths, which came shallower and more rapid than normal. He was on the verge of hyperventilating.

The footsteps were only a few feet away now. He clamped his hand over his mouth, stifling his breathing to block the rasp escaping his lips. The thud of his heart against his ribcage was deafening to his ears. He hoped his pursuer couldn’t hear it through the bin.

As the footsteps drew nearer, they paused outside the dumpster. Every muscle in his body stood tense, ready to spring if need be, but it appeared Lady Luck was with him. After a few seconds of silence, the footsteps resumed, headed away from the dumpster.

At that moment the worst case scenario came true. A sudden high-pitched beep emanated from his pocket. His phone! He’d left it off vibrate.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The footsteps outside froze, as chaos inside the dumpster raged. He groped at his pant leg, trying to locate the phone and shut it off.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The footsteps began again, this time coming toward the dumpster. Where was that phone?? Two thuds shook the lid and a small crack of light appeared above him, sending him into full-fledged panic mode.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

As the lid lifted, a flood of bright light swept over him and drowned out his vision in a sea of white. The light enveloped him and awoke.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Will was drenched, lying in the same hospital bed he’d inhabited since yesterday morning. The electrocardiogram monitor at his bedside registered his heart rate, racing at an elevated level. Every time he fell asleep, the same nightmare plagued him and woke him in a cold sweat less than an hour later. The drugs from that cute nurse coursed through his veins, but were having minimal effect.

His entire body ached. The fall had broken his left arm and given him a moderate concussion. Numerous bruises and lacerations covered his frame. His body responded to the trauma with inflammation and swelling in his joints, making it torture to even attempt movement. The nurse told him he was lucky to be alive after some elderly couple discovered him and called 9-1-1, but this sure didn’t feel like luck.

As he drifted in and out of consciousness, the pain of his wounds kept his mind occupied as he struggled to remember. And as the initial dose of narcotics wore off, his memory slowly but surely returned. He couldn’t recall everything yet, but he remembered enough.

Artie’s God had kept him alive and given him a second chance. He’d not asked for one and wasn’t even positive he wanted one, but he was kept alive for a purpose; he presumed it was to make things right.

The pain was overwhelming and he still struggled to bear the thought of continuing to live like this, but he’d been dealt a second hand. He saw now that others had sacrificed their lives to save him and give him a second opportunity at life, the opportunity to leave this hospital and go down swinging. He was determined to take it.

***

Escaping the hospital room was the easy part, at least once he figured out how to extricate himself from all of those tubes and wires. It wasn’t as easy as the movies made it look. The actors always just yanked them out, but when he tried that, pain exploded in his hands and arms. Instead, he was forced to work them out one by one. It took time, which increased the chances of capture, but the lack of searing pain caused by the sudden wrenching of tubes and needles was well worth the risk.

Even doing the job piecemeal, he needed only ten minutes to unhook himself, fumble into normal clothes and sneak into the hallway. Once there, things became a tad more difficult. Dodging doctors, nurses, and hospital security on the route to the stairwell was challenging as he struggled with the bulky arm cast restricting his movement.

The cast had made getting dressed difficult. In particular, the delicate clasp on Artie’s necklace gave him fits. Yet he didn’t want to leave it behind, and after a frustrated, desperate prayer, he finally succeeded in getting the wooden cross around his neck.

Somewhat to his surprise, he made it all the way to the front lobby before anyone recognized or even noticed him. There he crossed paths with the doctor who’d examined him for concussion symptoms.

“Will?” he sounded surprised to see him. “Will Ricketts?”

Will froze, positive he was about to be caught and carted back upstairs. He considered trying to make a break for it, but the pain in his legs reminded him running wasn’t possible. Instead, he remained stationary and let the doctor approach him.

“Will! Looking good today.”

“Yes, sir. Feeling much better,” he fought to keep his voice from wavering and exposing his frayed nerves. He forced a smile, hoping it would be enough to mask the nerves.

“Weren’t you supposed to be around another few days?” The doctor’s voice was inquisitive, but sounded innocent. He was just making conversation.

Will glanced around. “Umm…yeah. I was…but…I was feeling much better.” It was a weak excuse, but he hoped the doctor would buy it anyway. He tried to steady his upper lip, which had taken to quivering, and look confident.

A confused look came across the doctor’s face. “Hmm…I instructed them to call me for a final consultation on that head of yours before letting you go.” He reached over for a phone. “I’ll take it up with the guys upstairs.”

“No, no, no.” Will scrambled to find an explanation. He couldn’t let that phone call go through, not while he stood there. “One of the other neurologists was next door with another patient, so he did the check,” he lied and immediately pictured Artie. What would his friend think of him lying like this? Still, he really didn’t have a choice.

“That makes sense.” The phone remained in the pocket and he seemed to accept Will’s explanation. “Was it Mitchell? He was up there this morning.”

Will sheepishly responded, “I-I don’t know. I don’t remember his name.”

“Probably was,” he mused. The doctor tapped Will on the good shoulder. “Well, glad it worked out. Make sure you come straight in if any complications arise. Enjoy the parade if you get a chance, but take it easy. You don’t want to overdo it.”

“I will.” Will stayed frozen as the doctor walked away, only daring to move when the man disappeared around a corner. It wouldn’t be long before they discovered his deception. Seconds later, Will stepped outside into the sunshine.  He was free.

Off to his left, the road led to his house, but as much as he would appreciate a return home, vengeance burned in his heart. He wasn’t ready to go home yet. To the right lay downtown and the anniversary celebration.