Redemption (3 page)

“Fine.  But you and I need to have a talk.”

“Sure, when you’re sober, which will probably be, uh, never.”

“I’m sober.  Well, kinda.”

The front gate opened a few feet to allow Max and Elizabeth to immerge.  They walked down the narrow road and stood a safe distance from the SUV.  Max ignored the SUV and studied the faces of everyone in the group for signs of deception.  Everyone seemed calm and cooperative.

The leader of the group climbed down from the roof of the SUV and offered his hand to Max.  “Mr. Harris, I’m Isaac Lynwood.  We’ve come a long way to meet you.”

“Keep your hands where we can see them and pay more attention to the men on the wall with the guns pointed at you.”

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m here.  Bring this man you think is Theodore Forrest out so I can see him.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.  He’s very weak and we shouldn’t move him.”

“So you want me to climb in the back of an SUV?  You think I’m stupid?  I have no intention of being a hostage.”

“Max, please.  You have to trust me on this.  Theo wants to see his wife Vanessa and his son James before he passes.  He fought for you in the war and wants to be buried here next to Captain Tullos and Lieutenant Barry.”

Max hadn’t for one second entertained the possibility that any of this was true.  The anger and distrust in his eyes faded.  Max’s mouth fell open and his wife had to prop him up to keep him from falling over.

“They saved his life, Max.  But you already know that, don’t you?  Please, we don’t have much time.”

Max fought back tears.  “He’s alive?  He’s really in there?”

“Yes, and he has something very important to tell you.”  Isaac looked to one of his men and nodded his head.  The rear door of the SUV rose.  Holding his wife’s hand, Max slowly walked around and looked inside. 

“Theo, is that you?”

“Yes, old friend, it’s me.  I’ve come a long way to tell you, Maxwell, that our old friend is up to no good and you have to stop him.”

CHAPTER THREE

A tall, gray-haired man in a four thousand dollar tailored suit stood outside a dilapidated shack that was trying to pass itself off as a café.  He had never been a fan of St. Louis but in his travels he’d been in far worse places.  He felt the eyes of everyone on the street studying him.  He couldn’t have been more out of place surrounded by abject poverty.  No one, including pickpockets and muggers, dared approach him.  Even though he was in his seventies, he projected a sense of danger that few would dare attempt to breach.

He scanned both ends of the busy street and walked around to the rear of the shack to inspect the exit, as had been the custom in his line of work for five decades.  Satisfied with his possible route of egress, he circled back around to the front of the café and checked his watch.  He had one hour before his meeting.  Plenty of time to find a dining establishment that far exceeded the one he was currently surveying.

An hour and ten minutes later two men occupied a table in the dilapidated shack.  They also stood out in stark contrast to their environment.  They wore clean clothes, were well groomed, and were physically fit.

“How good is this guy?”

“The best.”

“Says who?”

“You really don’t know?”

“By all means, enlighten me.”

“The guy’s a legend.  Word around the campfire is he’s the best.  The guy’s a ghost; he’s done some pretty amazing things the past few years.”

“Like what?”

“Who do you think brought down the Unified American Empire?”

“Well, popular opinion says the Pacific States of America.”

“Afraid not.  He was responsible for the deaths of six of the regional governors, and then he delivered President Sterling and Jackson Butler to the PSA.”

“Horseshit.”

“It’s true, he was also responsible for hacking into Howard Beck’s computer and bringing down the PSA’s defenses long enough for the Chinese to get a foothold into America.  Beck’s robots and drones were fighting on the side of the Chinese for a short period, gave them the advantage at the start of the war.”

“You’re telling me one guy did all of that?”

“I am.”

“How will we know when he gets here?  He’s already ten minutes late.  What does he look like?”

“I have no idea.”

“Wait.  You mean we don’t even have a picture of this guy?”

“I’m not sure one exists.  Remember, he’s a ghost.”

“I think that’s him.”

Both men looked to the doorway to find a stoic looking man scanning the café.  His demeanor was intense but calm.  It was as though a predator had walked in and was scanning for prey.  Once his steely gaze landed on them, he immediately knew they were the men he was looking for and slowly approached them with the cordialness of a butler.

“May I join you?”

One of the men glared at him. “That depends, you have an appointment?”

The older gentleman let the rudeness sink in and while his eyes conveyed contempt, he smiled.   “Yes, I believe I do.”

“Please, sit down, I’m Frank, this is Willie.”

Knowing the most intimate details of both of the men’s lives, the silver-haired man pretended that he just heard their names for the first time. Once he had wiped down the filthy seat with a handkerchief, he sat down.  “You may call me Charles.”

Frank continued, “Charles, what brings you to our fine city?”

“No offense intended, my good man, but what’s left of this city does not warrant compliment.”

“It all depends on how you look at it.  St. Louis ain’t no tourist attraction anymore but it’s the place men like you come to when you they’re looking for information or need a job done.”

“Men like me?  And what sort of man am I exactly?”

“The type of man that seeks out a man like me.”

“Well said, sir.  Let’s get down to business.  I have been led to believe that you have at your disposal a team of highly specialized operatives.  Ex-special forces, former law enforcement, highly trained individuals, is that correct?”

“I do.  How many do you need?”

“Twelve.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Excellent.”

“What type of job are we talking about?”

“That all depends if you can deliver on my next request.”

“I’m all ears.”

“I require someone with a high level of technical expertise.”

Frank stared at Charles for a few seconds and once he realized the request was serious, burst into laughter.  “To do what exactly?  We’ve been living in the Stone Age for the last four years.  What’s the matter?  Generator on the fritz?”

Charles was not amused.  “If such a task is too difficult for you …”

“Whoa, slow down.  Just relax.  I have just the guy in mind.  About your age, used to be a big shot back in the day.  Worked for one of those places with a bunch of letters, something to do with going into space.”

“NASA.”

“Yeah, that’s it!  You’ve heard of it?”

Charles was beginning to have doubts.  “I’m surprised you haven’t.”

“I only made it to the third grade before they made folks pay for their kids to go to school.  Got two brothers.  No way my mom could pay for three kids to go to school.  It was free one year then not the next.  Mom always said that was when things started going downhill for good.  Wasn’t long after that only thing we worried about was having food and going to school wasn’t even a thought.”

“Such a shame.  I must say I agree with your dear mother’s assessment.  When can I meet with this gentleman?  After I’m certain he possesses the skill set I require we can move forward.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.  Before I arrange a meet I wanna talk payment.  Not wasting my time if it’s not gonna be worth my while.”

“Suffice it to say your payment will be substantial.”

“How substantial?”

“Not only will you compensated twice your standard rate in silver, you will have enough power and influence to take your enterprise to a level you never dreamed possible.”

“I like the sound of that.  It’ll take time to fetch your man. I can have him here in time for dinner tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t anticipating such a long wait, but that is acceptable.”

“Like I said, Stone Age, bicycles and horses are the fastest way to get around.  Last I checked, the local gas stations aren’t expecting new tankers to show up and fill the pumps.”

“If my operation goes as planned, that might change.”

“No shit?  Really?”

Charles frowned.  “Please do not use vulgarity, I find it distasteful.”

“What’s the big deal?  You a preacher or something?”

“Far from it.  I’m a gentleman that prefers civility.”

“Whatever, man.  I’m cool.  You wanna hang for the night?  Get you a room, set you up with some girls, on the house.”

“Your hospitality is appreciated, but I must decline.  I will meet you here at 5pm tomorrow.”

“That’ll work.  We should have him here by then.  Sure you don’t wanna stay?  No one’s gonna judge if you prefer boys.  We got plenty of both.”

“I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“Suit yourself.”

Charles stood up and straightened his tie.  “Gentlemen, until tomorrow.”

Frank and Willie remained seated and watched the old man leave in disgust.

Frank could feel Willie staring at him.  “Something on your mind?  Spit it out.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Shut up, you don’t trust anyone, me included.”

“No, I’m serious, that guy’s trouble.  No one turns down free ass.  Any man don’t wanna bust a nut ain’t right in my book.”

“Give the guy a break.  He’s an old man that probably can’t get it up anymore.”

“Something about him just don’t sit right with me.  He’ll double cross us first chance he gets.”

“Hey, this is a good thing, don’t screw it up.”

“Relax, I’m just gonna follow him and see what he does.  Maybe get him out of his room and search his stuff.”

“He’ll kill you if you get caught.  Just leave it alone.”

“Stop treating me like a rookie.  Been doin’ this a lot longer than you.  I know what I’m doing.”  Willie was already finished with the conversation by the time he made it to the door.

Frank yelled toward the door. “Tell you what, you fuck this up and I’ll kill you myself.”

Willie spotted Charles at the other end of the square and followed him, keeping him in his line of sight.  Willie was a former St. Louis homicide detective and knew the city like the back of his hand.  Prior to the collapse of 2027, the national crime rate was at an all-time high.  Willie had watched year after year as the budget dried up and more and more detectives were laid off.  Homicides in major cities were so commonplace that the victims’ families didn’t really expect justice unless the murder happened in full view of witnesses and the fingerprint laden murder weapon was left behind.  Two wars and eleven years later found the once great city of St. Louis a hollow shell of its former self. 

Judging by the direction he was walking, Willie deduced that the old man was headed to the Blue Goose, one of Willie’s more popular hotel and bar known to provide companionship to weary travelers.  Willie stood a block away and lit a cigarette, watching the mysterious man enter the bar.  A few minutes later, the cigarette was snubbed out and Willie crossed the street and entered the Blue Goose.

Willie walked behind the bar and directly into the manager’s office.  The bartender didn’t react at all since such action on Willie’s part was commonplace.  He didn’t bother knocking on the office door upon entering.  The proprietor looked up at Willie.

“Didn’t expect you for another week.  My extortion rates going up again?”

“Oh, come on! Extortion is such an ugly word.  Call it membership dues.”

“Membership in what exactly?”

“The St. Louis Chamber of Commerce.”

“What do you want, Willie?”

“The sharp dressed old man, I need you to get him out of his room.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, tell him he has a visitor at the bar or something, stall him for a few minutes.”

“Fine, I’ll send someone up.”

Willie disappeared to a dark, quiet corner of the bar near the stairs and waited for Charles to make his entrance.  A few minutes later Charles approached the bar.  The bartender offered him a complementary drink and told him the manager wanted to meet with him, a courtesy paid to all patrons. 

Once outside Charles’ room, Willie used his master key and let himself in.  The former detective was looking for anything that would give him the upper hand in future dealings with the old man.  Willie hated surprises and had no intention of committing to a job without knowing every detail beforehand.

After thoroughly searching the room from top to bottom he came up empty.  The only sign that Charles even occupied the room was his suit coat hanging in the closet.  The old man had traveled from God knows where and showed up to St. Louis with only the clothes on his back.  He didn’t bring any luggage, a briefcase, not a single file.  The details of his mission were stored safely in his memory.  Willie was impressed; Charles’ reputation was truly deserved.

Willie felt a sharp pain in his lower back.  Without even realizing what was happening, he lost all sensation in his left hip and left leg, rendering him unable to stand.  Willie collapsed to the floor with a thud and stared at the ceiling.  He blinked his eyes a few times and tried to gather his wits.  During his tenure in law enforcement he had grown accustomed to violence, enabling him to push through the panic and center his mind on survival.  Willie ignored the excruciating pain and ran his right hand down his side and reached for the pistol holstered in the small of his back.

“Mr. McCallon, on your trip to the floor I took the liberty of relieving you of your weapon.  You could try for the knife you keep tucked into your boot but you should probably know you will never stand again.  So do us both a favor and remain on the floor.”

“You’re a psychopath.  You came to us to get a job done, we were going to help you and you stab me!  Why?  Why’d you do this?  Your job, whatever the fuck it is, will never happen now!”