Saboteur: A Novel (26 page)

Chapter XXIV

Sullivan sat silently looking at the picture on his phone,
reading the numbers again slowly.

 
47’
58’ 87’: 5:55 10/22/14

It was clear that the last was a date, today’s date; 5:55 PT
was obviously the time. He had mapped the latitude and longitude of the first
two numbers and they corresponded with only one location: Chippewa Lake. The
very place they’d found Samara Patterson’s body in the water. Some coincidence.
The message scrawled on the wall had to be from the people who had Tackett. But
what had the rest of it meant? ‘Bring the waitress’ it had said. Could they
possibly mean Tina?

His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Rodriguez.

“They’re closing down the search of
the neighborhood. No sign of him.”

“Keep me posted and watch your
back, ok? Keep your phone close, just in case.”

“You bet,” he replied, tossing the
phone into the seat.
 

It was a bad idea to keep the information
he’d discovered to himself, but he felt anyone who knew was probably even in
more danger. Whoever had written it had outwitted him and the department at
every turn. But why would they ask him to bring Tina unless it was for some
kind of collateral, some exchange. Yet, the warning that it was “the only way
to save her,” scared him equally. He was risking her safety either way it
seemed. His phone buzzed again:

“Sullivan here.”

“Sir, I’m really sorry. We only
just realized it, but Professor Downy has managed to get out of the house, we
don’t know where he is at the moment.”

“Goddamnit!”

“Sir, we had every exit and
entrance covered, we have no idea h--”

He pounded his fists hard on the
steering wheel. Then he pulled his car into gear and sped out of the station
parking lot. He looked at the clock nervously and thought of Tina. He thought
of Tackett. What was the point of going to Downy’s house when he wasn’t there
anyway? The timing of his escape seemed too much of a coincidence. And besides,
he could protect Tina if things went wrong? Maybe it was only a show of good
faith they were interested in. Still, the thought of taking her there alone
bothered him. How could he do it without telling her? He dialed her number.

“Hey you.” She answered.

“Ok, not a lot of time to explain,
but let me ask you, have you ever wondered what it might be like to be a cop,
an undercover cop?”

“Ok, is this a role playing thing,
dear? Because if it is, let me just say up front, I’m totally into it.”

“No, this is serious.” he said
laughing. “I may need your help actually, and I have to tell you there is some
danger involved, but you’ll be safe with me, ok? I promise.”

He could hear Tina shuffle the
phone. “Oh this is for real. Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
I’m in.”

“It’s probably nothing in fact, but
I have to check to see at least. I can pick you up in half an hour. Be ready. I
need to be there right on time.”

“Ahhh God this is awesome! I’ll be
ready. Hey, do I get to pack heat?”

He laughed. “I have enough heat for
the both of us.”

“Yes, you do, detective. I’ll see
you soon.”

He stared into the screen on his
phone, looking up to veer around oncoming traffic, then wheeled the car wildly
in a U-turn and started back toward the Aero Club. He prayed he wasn’t making
yet another mistake.

Chapter XXV

“I’d grown so tired you see. Conquering the whole of the
known world, you know, it—it well, really takes it out of you,” he said with a
gentle laugh. “Your language is just beautiful by the way. I have been practicing
it for many years and its variations continue to amaze me.” He leaned in as if
to confide something deeply personal. “It is the simplest expression which one
can’t forget. You can’t say it any better in Latin or Greek actually,” he said
finally leaning back again. “
It takes it
out of you
,” he said slowly accentuating each word. “I am a fan of economy
in language, as any successful man must be. Come on professor, you must have at
least one question for me. Have I not been an object of your intensive study
for many years now? You’ve gotten many things wrong, you know.”

Downy readjusted himself in his
chair. “You say you are Julius Caesar. How did you get here?”

“I caught a thief in my home. I
grabbed him as he fled and then left my world forever.”

“You mean Charlie Patterson?”

“Indeed I do.”

“So you came through time with
Charlie accidentally?”

“I no longer believe in accidents,
but I don’t think Dr. Patterson imagined me coming along for the ride, any more
than I expected to be ripped so violently from my own life. It is violence, you
know? He gave me neither remedies to help with the transition, nor apologies
for his theft. He left me completely alone, displaced from all I knew, my
closest relative dead more than two thousand years.”

“So how did you survive?”

“There was one place known to me
that reckoned to always be there, a place where I could find safety even two
thousand years from home. The landmarks had changed much, but not entirely.
Ancient maps were of great aid to me, once I’d recovered my wits that is, which
took many years.”

“The Gracchi, the monks?”

“Ah see you really are a clever
boy. Most academics I meet are such dullards. Yes, the Gracchi have passed down
so much old Roman wealth as to be virtually impregnable to the changes of time.
I wonder often of their true origins. They pre-date even my own ancestors. A
monumental fee was paid in one of your so-called world wars, for the safety of
the monastery. My contributions will carry it well into another two thousand
years I suspect.”

“So that’s where you have been all
this time?”

“Almost 12 years now, by your
count. I try not to think on my misfortune, but it’s hard knowing all I’ve left
behind. It’s why I am choosing to return, to meet my fate at last.”

“What stopped you from going sooner?”

I could continue running from the
Vestals and elude them forever probably, through time; it is unimaginably
vast—I am tired of the chase.”

“Who are the Vestals?”

“They’re hunters. Silly people
really, a holdover from my own time. They believe in the purity of the “line”
as they call it. They have made a religion out of it almost. Their argument is
to do no further harm, to stop the bleeding as it were. How is it you say, ‘to
put the genie back in the bottle’? They’ve consecrated me in a sense, to a degree
I never thought possible. I represent the original break in the continuity of
the timeline; they call me the First Lord or some such nonsense. All my life
people have been giving me titles like this. I’ve never had much use for them,
but I like the ring of it actually. In that regard at least we agree, but they
won’t allow me to return.”

“Why, if they believe in the purity
of the timeline? Wouldn’t they want you to return?”

“They fear it will annihilate
everyone else in this second seam, our seam--an apocalypse they call it. Like
restarting a race that’s already been run, but wiping out some of the runners
completely before it begins.
They
are
the runners of course. They do it for themselves and claim me as their
hostage.”

“So they want to kill you?”

“Yes, they’d to bring the line to
an end and sew it up forever, I gather. Probably they’d rather just study me,
in a cage of course; all I can say is that they’ve forged an alliance with
Charles Patterson. A settlement. He gets to keep his life and I get lose mine
again, except without the glory I have earned.”

“So you actually want to go back to
the Ides of March?”

“I choose to die on my own terms in
the manner the gods intended. Is that so surprising, professor? It is my final
act of contrition. I have no fear of returning to my glorious end. Any other is
beneath me.”

Downy looked down at the flashing
numbers on the tape recorder. They had been talking so intently he’d almost
forgotten it was there. He shuddered as he looked Taro over, noticing now the
deep lines cut into his forehead, the light tint of yellow in the corner of one
eye, a jagged scar running down his neckline. He looked like a warrior indeed.

“Thank you, for letting me speak in
my own defense professor. I know in spite of all you’ve seen, it’s still so
hard to grasp. Alas, reality is so very thin. And our moment is nearly at an
end I’m afraid. I wish there were time to say more, but I must depart. Neither
of us can stay here in fact; I need you to make one more trip with me, a final
trip home. It is my gift to you, for all you have done in my name.”

Downy suddenly felt an unexpected
emotion. He couldn’t explain it rationally, but he felt its underlying truth
somehow. A wave of euphoria raced through his veins, but it was not the drug
anymore. Could he really be talking to Julius Caesar himself?

“I still don’t understand why
Charlie would try to stop you from going back. I know Charlie he would under--”

“Think about it, professor. The
answer is almost too easy.”

“Samara.”

“Yes of course, he’d do anything to
have her back. It’s understandable, but it cannot be. I already did what I
could for her, but Charlie Patterson is playing for the wrong team.”

“If I could just talk to him.”

“Don’t forget he murdered her with
his own bare hands professor. What happened after the fact was only an attempt
on my part to save you from taking the fall.

“So you did frame me,” he said
angrily?

“Yes, but not to convict you, to
save you. Take this,” Taro said handing him a sugar cube. Taro walked inside to
the counter and returned with a glass of scotch.

“You’ll have your old life back at
the end of the day,” Taro said beckoning to him to follow him back inside. He
pulled open the sliding glass door, gesturing for Downy to go first.

“You and I will just step into a
small crease then.”

And as the two men walked inside
all became utter darkness around them.

Chapter
XXVI

“We’re like fucking Butch and Sundance, look at us,” Tina
yelped throwing her hair back wildly in the wind. “Wait no, Thelma and Louise.”

Sullivan’s ragged El Camino sped
down the winding roads that led to Lake Chippewa. “Remember, we aren’t doing
anything but observing. Any sign of trouble and we’re banana splits, ok?”

“You’re the fucking cops man, if
there’s trouble and we need to do some cop shit, let’s do it!”

“Seriously,” he said looking at her
sideways.

“Ok, fine.” she purred demurely.
“What are we observing, Butch?”

“That’s just it, probably nothing.
Let’s just say there may be banditos, and if there are, we are going to report
them to the cavalry.”

“I can’t make the news, ok? I left
work with the flu. I even fake coughed in front of my boss.”

“You won’t make the news,” he said
dryly. He smiled widely, even though he was feeling incredibly anxious.

He rolled the car slowly to a gravely spot on a ridge still
a full quarter mile from where Samara’s body had been pulled from the water. He
reached for binoculars in the glove box and moved himself silently near some
tall grass. Tina followed quietly behind. He could see very clearly from their
position. There was nothing in the water but ripples from the breeze,
occasional bugs swiping at the glassy surface.

“Take these,” he said handing them
to Tina. If any people come into view, just give me a whistle; you do know how
to whistle right?”

“Wait! Where are you going?” she
said nervously.

“Just down there,” he said
pointing. “I wanna see if anybody’s watching us watch them.”

“Fucking A. Ok, real cop shit,” she
said lowering her head, feeling genuinely fearful for a moment. “Some crazy
third date shit we got going on here,” she muttered as she started quietly
practicing her whistle.

He smiled to reassure her as he
disappeared down the hill. He pulled a second smaller binocular from his pants and
turned them toward her. He scanned in every direction, but it was completely
quiet. He looked at his watch. It was 5:41 exactly. There was nothing to do but
wait. Maybe they had hoped he would follow this clue and that the real action
was going down elsewhere. A diversion. Damn.

He turned his binoculars back to Tina. Through the tall
grass she wasn’t aware she was being watched. She was a true specimen he
thought to himself.
God, why had he
brought her?
He shifted his view back toward the water. He would take one
more close look and then they were getting the hell out of there and for good.
He started to fantasize about a completely different future than he’d ever
imagined. There’d be killers and criminals still, after he put down the badge
and the fight would go on, so what? Tina could keep him in bed for at least the
next ten years alone he reasoned. He paused for a moment. He was only a couple
of hundred feet now from the edge of the lake. But already the taste of that
future seemed too pure and good to be real somehow. He was having a moment of
absolute clarity, but then unexpectedly his senses flew into overdrive. He
could see no one, but could feel a presence; He felt like an animal in the
midst of a sudden ambush. It was too quiet. He shifted his view back to her,
scanning from left to right, but she was nowhere to be seen. He ran back up the
hill trying not to panic, but even before he made it to her he could hear her
muted attempts at a whistle as she ran into his arms--clearly in a state of
panic.

“Bandito!” she finally exclaimed,
but Sullivan was calm, reassuring.

It was only Tierney standing at the
top of the hill, now walking toward them very slowly, in his suit still. What
was the fucking chief doing here?

“No, hun, not a bandito,” he said
consolingly, but then he saw Rodriguez emerging from a patch beyond the trees
some distance away. She had her .44 at her waist with both hands on it. Then
Sheppard emerged from the opposite clearing, suddenly reaching for his firearm
until he saw Rodriguez. He lowered it again when he realized who it was. “What
the fuck are you guys doing here, following me?” he said.

 
There was a moment where he thought he
heard Tierney’s voice begin to respond, but the sound was
drown
out by the crackle of gunfire. He had already fast-forwarded in time to what
came next and how utterly powerless he was to stop it. They had them all in one
place.

The first shot took off of the top
part of Tierney’s head and he fell very slowly to the ground, still talking and
gesturing it seemed to Sullivan, as if he could barely accept the interruption.
The sound of the shot seemed to come after, but that was only because they were
still being fired on. Sheppard was on the ground instantly too, but round after
round poured into his legs and then every part of his torso. He fired
pointlessly into the air, then put his arms over his face, letting out a low
groan. His pistol slid limply from his hand. Sullivan yelled for Rodriguez to
take cover. She was now hovering in a crouched position trying desperately to
locate the shooter, waving her gun wildly from left to right.

“Get the fuck down, man,” she
yelled to him, but then she seemed to walk right into the bullet, which tore
through her neck, exposing a bloody gore, knocking her instantly off her feet.

He could hear the awful gurgling as
she struggled to breathe only yards away from him. He was still frozen with his
arms around Tina, who had now gone completely paralytic from the shock. He
grabbed her like a rolled carpet and dashed to the cover of the nearby tree,
trying desperately to free his revolver from his waistband, then raced back to
check Rodriguez. She was unconscious and though he could feel a pulse, it only
pumped thick plumes of blood from the gaping wound in her neck. She had already
gone completely blue in the face. He thought of his own mother and father,
their waxen faces finally at peace in death and simply waited for his turn. He
could still see no one. Tina was curled in a ball, whimpering almost silently.
He’d led her to her death like a goddamned fool. He would never be able to say
how sorry he was. Her life and his would end here. He waited, but no shot came.
And Tina finally raised her head again.

In an almost whisper she was
repeating “Banditos, Banditos.” Then she tried to whistle.

He stood slowly, looking all
around. Too much time had passed. Then he heard the crack of a rifle. His whole
body lurched and he was on his knees again. Then two more shots, but they were
far away. No bullet had hit him. He yelled for Tina.

“Are you hit,” he screamed?”

“No more banditos. No, I wanna go
home, I wanna go home,” she said very quietly, like a little girl.

She was talking, which meant she
was alive. He stood now, walking in her direction. The gunfire seemed to have
stopped. They really had no cover anyway. It was the perfect spot for an
ambush. But why weren’t they finishing them off?

Then he saw another figure emerge
from behind the trees. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The man wore a hat, like
the ones tourists wear on safari and had his arms raised in the air.

“I have no gun, detective. I come
in peace.”

His mind raced to place the face.
It was the goddamned guy with Downy’s wife from the station, he’d thought it
had been her father maybe.

“You!” he said.

“They are called Vestals, who
killed your friends. I’m awfully sorry for them,” he said looking nervously at
the bodies strewn around. “I dispatched them on the hill just there,” he said
pointing. “Four of them, the worst of them, but more will come.”

“Give me one good reason not to
shoot you in the goddamn face!”

Sullivan’s hands shook as he tried not to look at the awful
carnage surrounding him.

“I might give you many,” the man
said calmly, “but let’s begin with the safe return of your friend Tackett.”

“Where the fuck is he?”

“I have him nearby and we can go to
him, but you must trust me if you hope to live, or the beautiful young lady
over there. You’ve already saved her once today by bringing her, though it was
imprudent to do so to be frank. I knew I could count on your recklessness,
detective.”

He lowered his gun a bit.

“If I wanted you dead I’d have shot
you from on the ridge over there, but I don’t. I’m on a mission of rescue and
I’m the closest thing to a friend you’ve got. We have little time before we
have more guns on us, I’m afraid,” he said looking around nervously.

Sullivan still held his gun
tightly.

“You don’t have to give up your
weapon, but I’d appreciate you putting it away. They are foul, unpredictable
things in my experience.”

He finally lowered it.

“Let me take you to Tackett. He is
safe, I assure you, and very anxious to see you, as is someone else you will be
very happy to see, I presume. Come, follow me,” the man said.

“Wait, who are you? I don’t even
know your goddamned name.”

“Most call me Taro, that will have
to do for now.”

“Where are we going, what about
them?” he said pointing to his fallen comrades.

“They are quite finished as you can
see. There is no time for reflection unfortunately. She will be killed too if
she stays.”

“Let her go,” he said pointing to
Tina. “I’ll follow you alone. This, whatever all this is, has nothing to do
with her.” Sullivan surveyed the awful scene before him.

“We need to take a swim together
the three of us. I need you to take off your clothes, all of them and hers. It
will be easier for you if you take this,” he said producing two sugar cubes
from his pocket.

He pulled off his shirt to reveal a
torso pock-marked with scars, the most prominent of which ran from his neckline
all the way to the base of his rib cage. He was a man of middle age clearly,
but his muscularity was that of someone much younger.

“Come on,” he said, “they may
appear any minute.”

“We’re not taking these. Do you
think I’m crazy?” Tina said finally seeming to regain some of her composure.

“I’d be suspicious too, but without
them you both die. You’re just going to have to trust me. Look, look I need it
too, it will help us later,” he said in his calmest voice, slipping a cube into
his own mouth. He swallowed with a gulp.

Sullivan looked puzzled. Tina
looked at him as if for an answer. He waited, staring at the cube. There was
the sudden sound of voices off in the distance.

“They’re here, we have no more
time,” Taro said tersely.

 
Sullivan swallowed, waiting yet again for
the worst.

“Go on,” he said to Tina.

“Oh God, I’m going to regret this,”
Tina said and they both began to run.

“Where are we going?” he said
catching up to Taro.

“To the bottom of that lake, take
off all your clothes or they will singe right into your flesh,” he said
pointing. “There is something I have to show you. Something amazing.”