Presidential Cleaning: A Psychological Suspense Novel (3 page)

              The clock was ticking. Though I knew that killing Lila wasn’t on their agenda, I couldn’t stand the thought of her being with those bastards any longer. I had to make a move, but no matter how hard I tried to come up with a plan, I couldn’t seem to find one that didn’t include death.

I turned off the tap, refrained from staring into the darkness of my eyes and opted for a shower. The cold water beat across my back with fury, mimicking the way I felt. Relaxation was hard to come by and even if it weren’t, I wouldn’t allow myself to find any form of release from the tangles my heart were in. Doing so, would be betraying Lila. Each moment that I thought about something other than rescuing her, I was failing her. This was all my fault. The moment that I decided to open my big mouth and engage in a conversation she was persistent to have, I had failed her. The moment I allowed her to fall in love with me and myself to return those feelings, I had failed her. She could have just been that girl I’d met once. The girl who could have changed me. But no, her soft, welcoming smile and her perseverance made her so much more. The men of NW45 weren’t meant to feel. They weren’t meant to settle down, to get married, to dream of a happily ever after. But Lila ensured that I forgot where I came from. The way she insisted that she wanted to know nothing about my past prompted me to forget about it. And so, I allowed myself to be loved by her; to feel comfortable in her presence. Because of that, I forgot. I forgot that the information I possessed would eventually come back to haunt me.

The sound of my phone ringing interrupted my shower. I hurried out of the bathroom, snatching a towel and wrapping it around my waist before sprinting to the living room. I was just in time to take the call. A blocked number. I slid my finger across my phone, in the direction of the green bar, but refrained from saying anything when the other voice came through. My computer booted up quickly, and began to search for coordinates.

‘So,’ came a rusty and untamed voice. ‘I saw your…’ I could almost hear him searching for the right words, ‘work of art.’

I didn’t reply.

‘I’ve got to say a big congratulations to you, Mr. Chandler. Not for killing my guys, but for the manner in which you took care of Charles. I must tell you, I haven’t seen anything quite like it. I’ve known many killers, but you, you’ve got a talent. A real talent.’

‘I’m not sure if I’m supposed to say thank you,’ I replied harshly.

‘No. You see, I think I’m the one who needs to thank you. Those guys you killed. Well, let’s just say you made my job a slight bit easier. I don’t usually keep them around that long. Guys like those, they’re talkers… rats. You poke them too hard and they squeak.’

‘Where’s my wife?’ I looked over at my laptop to see that it was still searching hard for a GPS location- but still, nothing concrete was presented.

‘Where’s Derrick Shaw?’ he shot back.

‘Where’s my wife?’ I repeated.

Harry cleared his throat and then went on to introduce me to a monologue. ‘The longer you sit there and do nothing, is the longer your wife has to see my ugly face staring back at her. I know that it’s hard for people like you, with all your training and shit, to divulge information. But you ought to know that just as much as you think you’ve got everything mapped out, I’ve got everything mapped out. It can’t be easy, feeling hopeless, not knowing which way to turn. Talking is what will bring you peace.’

‘And say I do tell you where Derrick is.’

‘Oh. I guess I didn’t make myself clear. I don’t really give a fuck where he is. I need you to bring him to me. In one piece.’

‘I don’t always scatter the body parts of the men I kill.’

‘Ah. But you’ll bring him to me alive. You’ll bring him to me without a scratch on his already scarred up skin.’

‘I’m afraid that’s not possible,’ I replied.

‘With the right people, everything in this world is possible. And you, you’re the right person.’

‘If you’re so fucking powerful, why don’t you just break him out of jail?’

A sarcastic laugh gurgled through the phone, ‘You’re a funny character, Mr. Chandler. Except, we both know that the cell where Derrick was meant to be held, isn’t the cell that he’s being held at. Imagine my surprise when I have my guys armed and ready to take that hellhole by a storm only to find that cell number eighteen had never smelled the stench of my…’ he paused. Perhaps not wanting to disclose information that I already knew.

‘Of your brother?’ I finished his sentence.

‘My brother?’ For the first time during our conversation, he sounded surprised.

‘Yes. Your brother. Same mom, different dads. Split up when you were seven and he was four. Except, you landed in a hoity-toity environment while he had to deal with the drunkenness of a man who was even worse than his biological father. Abuse, lack of love and support turned him into who he was. But you, you didn’t have to take this route, except somewhere deep in your DNA, you craved power. Maybe you were mad that your mom pretty much sold you to those rich folks. Maybe you were mad at the world for the hand your brother was dealt.’ After receiving the information from Loudmouth about Derrick and Harry’s relationship, I’d done further research to really put proof to the claims.

‘And you? What do you thank for your attributes?’

The way in which he asked made me know that the only information he had on me was what I’d done and not who I was. He couldn’t break me down bit by bit and analyze the ins and outs of my characters like I could do to him.

‘People like you,’ I answered sardonically.

‘I’m not sure there are many people like me?’ His answer came matter-of-factly, proudly, as though he really believed that he was something special.

‘I’m not going to argue with you about your inferiority. Give me my wife.’

‘Give me Derrick Shaw.’

‘I’m not going to do this with you.’

‘No. I’m the one who’s not going to do this with you. My intentions were to keep her safe, but my patience, it’s wearing away slowly and I might just have to start sending bits and pieces of her to you as a reminder that I’m not to be
fucked
with.’

‘I don’t know where your godforsaken brother is.’

‘Knowledge, Mr. Chandler, isn’t something you’re born with, it’s something you acquire. So, if you don’t know how to find him, learn how to find him. And do it quick.’

‘Fuck you,’ I snapped.

‘Oh. Mr. Chandler. You’re pressing on a nerve that you don’t want to snap. Let me make this a little clearer for you. If you fail, I’ll just have to have another party take care of your job. But, if you fail that would also mean that I failed to select the right person. And I, I’m not a man who deals with failure very well. What I’m going to do for you, is to give you a little inspiration. If I don’t hear back from you within a week, I’m sure your wife will be very happy to send you a reminder,’ his voice grew harsher and louder, ‘that you
don’t
fuck with Harry Peterman.’ He let out a sigh, before clearing his throat and progressing with his threat. ‘Van Gogh, he was an ear kind of man. But I’m guessing that you’ve got a thing about teeth, considering you damn near rid Locke of all of his. Tell me, how would you feel about receiving an enamel coated gift from your wife? Clear enough for you?’ He waited for a few seconds. ‘I’m guessing you’re not going to answer me. Such a shame, because I was really starting to get used to the sound of your voice. Oh, and before I go. Let me just warn you that if you
ever
try to find me before I want you to, and if you
ever
try to get to your wife before I hand her over to you, she’ll go up in smoke just like all those damn buildings that I couldn’t bear to see stand. I’m good with that kind of things as I’m sure you’ve come to realize. And a pissed off Harry is an explosive Harry. I don’t think you’d like to have your wife barbecued and so, I trust that you’ll be the perfect little soldier you were intended to be.’

I slammed the phone down on the table, beating the life out of it the way I wanted to beat the life out of Harry. Where was the karma Lila was so adamant existed? Why is it that I guy like me who turned his entire life around was being dealt a hand of misfortune? Okay, so maybe karma was late on dishing me a big plate of ‘fuck you’. But Lila, she didn’t deserve any of this. She was the kind of girl who feared spiders more than anything in the world. However, rather than having me stomp them to pieces, she insisted that they be caught in a jar and released into their natural habitat so that they could breed and infest her home even more. She was the kind of woman who cried at commercials. The type who would give her last penny to someone in need.

On my computer, there was no information of relevance. Failure to locate this Harry character meant that once again, hope was lost. I knew what I had to do. It was just a matter of working up the courage to do it and to finally come to terms with the fact that I couldn’t do it alone.

Chapter 5

‘3-6-1-9,’ was the number that started my revenge. One phone call is all it took to land me in an underground location that wreaked of old paint and fresh champagne.

‘Man cave, huh?’ I turned to Adam who still had his hands wrapped around Jones. My voice prompted him to let go.

‘Yeah. This is what my man cave looks like. Though, I must say, I don’t get to use it quite as often as I should.’

He hadn’t changed a bit since I’d last seen him, years ago, except for a few wrinkles that had set in at the corners of his eyes. ‘The wife won’t allow it?’ I asked, unable to determine if this notorious bachelor had finally managed to find someone who kept him home.

‘Wife!’ The crooks of his mouth bent into a smile. ‘You know. I can’t say I’ve been lucky enough to fall in… whatever it is you people like to call it.’

Jones toned in. ‘Love,’ he answered, rolling his eyes over dramatically. ‘I’m afraid to say, you’re the only on Joe. Half of us are too scared to- you know- find ourselves in situations like the one you’re in and the other half just enjoy the freedom of… well, the freedom of being free.’

‘This could have happened to any of us,’ I warned him. I could tell that Adam didn’t quite agree. The way he pressed the glass of champagne against his lips for more seconds that it took to take a satisfying gulp was enough clarification. ‘Spit it out.’

‘The champagne?’ he laughed, revealing his jagged teeth.

‘No Adam. Whatever it is you want to say. Just spit it out.’

He ran his hands through his bleach blonde hair, nodded and then began. ‘People hire us, they don’t threaten us. In training, we were forbidden to have families. You know that. The half of us who aren’t orphans didn’t mind disappearing from the lives of those they knew. We weren’t trained to care and so, there’s no one that they could grab that would cause me to bat an eye or lose a second of sleep. I like things that way. It’s easy.’

It was a terrifying thought; one that didn’t matter much to me before, but now, with Lila gone, consumed my entire existence. Both my parents died in a car crash when I was just eighteen years old- eighteen years ago. As an only child, I didn’t have anyone and thus, NW45 found it easy to recruit a guy like me. And I, found it somewhat easy to let go from the nothingness that life had to offer and hop on to whatever adventures they had in store. Granted, no information was divulged before we’d signed our souls away. But the harsh training told me we’d be doing more than tossing teargas and pointing guns.

‘Shit happens man,’ I said, trying hard not to show how torn up I was. They didn’t understand. These men followed a pact. They weren’t here because I was some buddy that they’d missed. The truth was, though we got along quite well with each other, we didn’t have the connection that regular friends did. We were trained not to develop that form of connection. If-when on the job- one man fell, we were trained to look the other way and ensure that the duties outlined by our president were thought about first and the wounded last-if at all. For the most part, I’d followed this rule. But during the time that I’d spend with these men, I’d developed a bond with them. And so, I didn’t leave their backs uncovered when we were in danger. But I also didn’t carry the wounded over my shoulders.

‘Where are Iron and Tony?’ Jones asked, changing the topic.

‘They should be here any minute now.’ Adam looked at his watch.

‘They’re coming together?’ I asked confused.

‘I think so,’ Adam replied. ‘They started working together and had a job to complete before they could stop by.’

The look on Adam’s face told me that Iron and Tony weren’t busy typing up documents while sitting behind a desk. ‘What is it that they do?’

Adam was definitely happy I asked. He traced his fingers against the stubble on his chin, glanced at Jones who looked just as interested to hear about Iron and Tony’s endeavors as I was. ‘Well. Let’s just say they haven’t strayed too far from home.’

‘Hits?’

‘Eh.’ His head waved from side to side. ‘They dabble in that too, yes. But it’s more of a trade kind of thing. The guys they’re taking down are turning them into some very
fucking
important fellows.’

‘How so?’ I asked, slightly irritated that Adam wouldn’t just spill the beans already. He hadn’t changed one bit, trying to draw up suspense where there should be none.

‘They influence the stock market. They work with some guys on Wall Street who key them into who should be taken out and who should have some minor or sometimes major tragedy fall upon them and then they have fun while watching their investments surge.’

‘So they kill for money,’ Jones said, unimpressed.

‘It’s not just killing for money, it’s killing for millions.’ Adam seemed a bit irritated by our lack of excitement.

I left the conversation, and walked over to a table that was complete with all the finger foods a man could ever want. I picked up a plate and topped it with a few mini pizzas and some weird take on Bruchetta. It had been a while since my appetite kicked in and I knew that even though I’d rather skip breakfast, lunch and dinner, I would need the energy if I was going to pull off what I had planned.