Wednesday, January 29, 2014

2- Cake Walk


2

Cake Walk

Eliza Adams watched the lobby of the Hotel Northwood like a hawk.  She took note of everyone coming into or leaving the hotel as well as the guys at the bar which could be seen from the cushy lobby chair where she sat.  She had to be vigilant now, more than ever.  This was her first field assignment with the Department of Homeland Security after finishing her 22 week training program at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center in Brunswick, Georgia.

“Relax.”  Her partner and mentor Barkley Samuels spoke easily next to her sitting on the plush couch that was arranged with the chair in the hotel’s lobby as if it were a living room.  “You are watching the room like you are watching the room.  Just relax and pretend we are waiting for someone.”

“We are waiting for someone.”  Eliza fired back and knew she shouldn’t have.

Eliza, Liz for short, was twenty five years old, with an athletic build and a hard angled face.  The Feds had recruited her out of college with no experience, which was very rare in the business.  Usually, five years’ experience was required.  She had known she wanted to be DHS since she was fifteen and now the dream had come true, but she was far from out of the woods.

New agents usually had a partner with significant years in the field so they could learn the ropes first hand.  More than that, they also had significant input on whether the new agent remained an agent.  One bad word from Barkley and everything fell apart.

She sat back in her chair and sighed.  “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to…”

Barkley waved his hand.  “Don’t worry about it.  I know the pressure you are under but this is going to be a cake-walk bust for us.  Trust me.”

Barkley was pushing forty with a short buzz cut of blonde hair that was reseeding back into a widow’s peak.  He kept himself in good shape despite his age.  He had broad shoulders and a good amount of muscle in his arms.  Coupled with a beer belly, the short man reminded Eliza of what a wall of human would look like.

“You say that, sir,” Eliza replied with more respect now.  “But Lentz is becoming a legend.  One of our own, a guy who has been here since the formation of the Department, selling secrets?  It’s unfathomable.”

Bill Lentz had been an analyst for the DHS since its formation in 2002 after the attacks of September 11. The background checks that went into getting into an organization formed almost primarily to stop terrorist attacks where rigid.  Back then they were nearly impossible to pass, yet somehow Bill Lentz had passed it all and made it into the ranks of America’s elite, only to spend the next twelve years passing info on to the highest bidder.  Only recently had information come to light that pointed the finger at Lentz.  No sooner than that, Lentz had gone into hiding and been off the grid for almost twenty days within the United States of America.  Now they had received intel that Lentz was going to be meeting group of Russian mercenaries to give out confidential information on covert operatives working within the United States in exchange for safe passage out of the country.

“There.”  Barkley said, interrupting Eliza’s thoughts as a man in a burgundy suit with bleach-blonde hair and dark sunglasses walked in the front door toward the desk.

He was lanky. The unshaven the coarse black stubble revealed that the man had bleached his hair in order to make it blonde.  Upon close inspection, Eliza realized that Barkley was right.  It was Lentz.  She made a move to stand but Barkley’s arm shot up and stopped her.

“No, not here.  We follow him to the Russians, call in the troops and hit them all at the same time.” Barkley said calmly and Eliza slowly sat back down.

“I’m telling you, Adams,” Barkley said.  “Nothing is going to mess this up.  Nothing.”

****

“You can go your own way!”

“Go your own way!”

“You can call it another lonely day!”

“Another lonely day!”

 The Devereuxs sang the Fleetwood Mac song loudly as they drove their SUV up US Highway 31, slowly coming to a close on the Northwoods Hotel on Grand Traverse Bay just outside Traverse City, Michigan.  The recent millionaires had been overwhelmed with possibility over the last two weeks since they had won.

Thanks to Josephine’s cool head, they had collected the $50,000,000 through an attorney, anonymously so none of their friends or family knew yet.  This was amazing since Leonard had a very hard time keeping secrets, especially one that was worth that kind of money.  Nonetheless he had and they had taken an impromptu vacation to get away and decide exactly what they were going to do with it.

They pulled into the hotel as the song ended.  It was an amazing summer day.  The hotel itself overlooked the beach with a long dock on the other side of the parking lot that stretched into the water. The dock offered parasailing, tours, and Jet Ski rentals.

“Oh, they have jet skis.” Joe purred as they parked, her facing lighting up.

Leonard had to smile at her.  As cynical and logical as she was, she still had the ability to get as giddy and silly as a school girl when the mood struck her.  “Not a chance.”

She rolled her eyes at him.  “You and your irrational fears, I swear.”

He scoffed.  “Irrational?  I think not!  I’m not getting on anything that does not have brakes!”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”  She replied, “The water stops you when you let off the gas.”

“That or the hard object you slam into at ninety miles an hour.”  Leo muttered as he got out of the car and stretched after the eight plus hour drive up from Ohio.

He looked out over the water and smiled.  They had always wanted to come up here, and they were not regretting it.  The water was a bright blue, framed by the green wooded land that surrounded the great bay.

“This was a good idea.” Joe said, coming up on his right side and hugging him tightly.

He smiled at the warm embrace and kissed the top of her head.  “Damn right it was.  Let’s check in and go see that penthouse.”

They turned and walked through the front door to the lobby.  Leo knew nothing could go wrong.

****

“He just entered the lobby.”  Petroff spoke Russian into the cell phone to his commander upstairs.

“Good,” The deep voice on the other end said.  “Watch him and make sure he speaks to no one.”

Pertoff was one of six Russian mercenaries that had been hired for this job.  They had entered two days prior and checked in last night under false names as researchers.  Now they had two objectives, get Lentz, and get his files.

“There is a problem Yuri,” Petroff said into the phone.  “There are two agents here watching him.  They look to be federal.  Maybe C.I.A.”

Petroff had worked many different missions with Yuri.  He knew the man to be a consummate professional.  He was collected and calm on the other end even if he was cursing under his breath, “Have they made a move?”

“No,” Pertoff replied. “They are just watching.”

“They are waiting for him to make contact with his buyer.”  Yuri stated on the other end.

“Yes.” Petroff confirmed.

“Follow him.  If you get the chance to get him alone, take him and get what you can.  If the agents move in, back off.  Nothing we can do.” Yuri said and then hung up.

Petroff hung up his side and slid the phone into the pocket of his sport coat and continued to watch the scene.  Lentz suddenly seemed to get more nervous during the check in process, as if he had seen a ghost.  Petroff frowned, still watching from the bank of elevators.  He tried to assess the situation and realized that Lentz must have made the agents.  This could get ugly and Petroff would have to make a move.

It didn’t.  Instead, Petroff’s prayers seemed to be answered when Lentz flipped through his bag at the table and pulled a flash drive out of it.  Could these be the files Yuri’s team had been sent to find?  Was this what Petroff needed to acquire?

Lentz checked his bag and headed to the lobby’s men’s room.  Petroff had to make a judgment call.  He looked to the agents.  They had watched Lentz enter but made no move to intercept.  Petroff decided it was now or never and followed him in.

****

Lentz stepped into the bathroom in a near panicked state.  He couldn’t believe he was here.  After everything that had happened, Lentz had just been trying to make a buck.  Was that so wrong?  Hell, it was the American dream.

“Come on, get a grip,” Lentz said to himself.  “What’s he going to do, kill you in cold blood?”

He had asked himself the question to settle his nerves but it only made it worse.  He bent down in the sink and turned on the cold water, splashing his face.  As he reached for the paper towels the door creaked open and shut.  An average sized, well-built, bald man entered in a loose fitting sport coat.

The man stopped and let the door shut behind him.  Lentz was screaming at himself in his own mind, ‘don’t look him in the eyes!’ over and over but he couldn’t help it.  The two locked eyes and the piercing blue eyes of the man narrowed at Lentz.  He then reached his right back and switched the dead bolt in place.

When he did, Lentz saw the gun in a shoulder holster under his jacket.  Lentz knew he had to act or die here and now.  He screamed and charged the man.  The man was caught off guard by this tactic probably assuming Lentz’s obvious fear would make him docile.  It had instead turned him into a raving lunatic.

Lentz’s punch caught the man on the right side of his jaw and he grunted more out of surprise then pain. He staggered into the wall and Lentz clawed past him reaching for the door getting the deadbolt unlocked and…

The man was on him before he could finish his escape, grabbing him around the waist and dragging him backward throwing him back into the bathroom.  Lentz watched the door get father and father away and he despaired.

Lentz refused to give up.  He thrashed his arms and legs wildly and although Lentz went down so did the would-be assassin in an awkward fall.  Lentz scrambled to his feet and so did his assailant, the bald man going for his gun.  Lentz threw himself at the man again, grabbing the man’s gun arm with both hands by the wrist and shoving backward.

They both went down again, this time crashing through the sink.  Porcelain and pipes and smashing water sprayed freely from the ruined pipes.  The impact knocked the hand gun free of the bald man’s hand and sent it sliding away.  They were drenched in the next instant, and Lentz knew it was no time like the present.  He leapt off the bald man and slid on his belly across the now slick tile floor to the door and desperately pulled himself to his feet grabbing for the handle.

He heard the man behind him going for his gun.  Lentz pulled the door open when he heard the first bang echo through the bathroom like thunder.  He felt the impact in his upper back and lurched forward out the door into the hallway, the door swinging closed behind him.

****

Josephine and Leonard stood at the front desk speaking with the front desk clerk about their reservations when the first shot rang out.  They jumped and everyone in the lobby seemed to gasp, unsure of what was happening like collective deer in headlights.

That’s when the Deveruexs saw a man stumbling across the lobby toward them.  He was drenched in water, wearing a burgundy suit with a white undershirt that seemed to be stained with red wine.  He was charging for them as fast as he could.  Leonard instinctively stepped in front of Joe.  Suddenly, another man, soaked in water as well, stepped out of the bathroom behind the man dressed in burgundy.  This man hand a gun.

“Freeze!  Put down the gun!” A woman yelled to Joe’s right.

A guy screamed.  “Everybody get down!”

Two shots rang out and the man in burgundy stumbled forward and crashed into Leonard and Joe, all three off them crashing to the ground in a heap.

A hail of shots rang out after that and the bald man’s chest and abdomen was suddenly ripped open in multiple places before he fell backward to the floor.

Leo watched in awe and the looked into the face of the man in burgundy who now lay on top of him. Leo saw only dead eyes in front of him and knew the body on top of him no longer housed the spark of life.

He began to scream like a girl.  It would not be his finest hour.

 

 

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

1-I think the machine is broken


1

I Think the Machine is Broken.

A common misconception about overweight people is that their increased girth protects them from attacks to their mid-section.  That their fat would create a soft pillow that would absorb a hard blow without it being able to do any damage.

Leonard Devereux had come to understand this assumption was completely false in the last couple of hours.

Now, his beaten ribs cried out for the protection of a hard layer of muscle between them and the blows that had pounded into them earlier.  They felt like saw dust now inside Leo’s torso.  This made it hard for him to keep up with the brisk pace at which the traitor, his capture, moved.

The traitor’s Sig Suar automatic pistol pressed against Leo’s back every time his pace slowed from the pain.  “Keep it moving!”

They crossed the hotel’s parking lot towards the dock and beach that adjoined it.  It was a beautiful day in Traverse City, Michigan and Leo wished he could stop and enjoy it.  Instead, he had taken on Russian commandos and traitors-to-the-state, alongside his wife and true love, Josephine.  His only satisfaction had come from the fact that his sacrifice would insure her safety.

Docked was a long and sleek looking speed boat.  A man had just hopped out and was about to tie the line off when he saw Leonard and the traitor coming down the dock.

“Sorry folks, I’ll be back for more tours after lunch and you can- Jesus!” The man began to explain then saw Leo’s condition.

Leo was a shadow of his former self.  Normal Leo stood six feet, three inches, with broad shoulders.  He had an affinity for goofy T-Shirts and a cabby hat, but under that, he had plenty of fat, not obese, but definitely overweight.  He was thirty-two and had short brown hair with a dusting of early grey and intense brown eyes.  Normally he had a spirit to him that let everyone around him know he loved being alive.

That was what he was normally like.

Now, he limped, nearly dragging his right leg because of the damage to his rib cage.  His left eye had a nasty cut over it and was bleeding down the side of his face.  The right eye was in no better condition, swelling almost shut and throbbing a deep purple that made him look like a parody of Stallone at the end of a Rocky movie.  His hat was missing in action, leaving his hair tussled and pointing in all different directions. His T-Shirt, once depicting a picture of The Dread Pirate Roberts from the movie The Princess Bride and the words ‘As you Wish’ on it, was tattered and torn and covered in blood that obscured the obscure movie reference.  Where the skin showed through cuts could be seen all over his body, and a large piece of glass protruded from his bicep.

This awful sight had stunned the boat owner and turned his normally friendly face into one of fear and confusion.  “What the hell is going on?”

“Run!” Leo screamed, but he was too late.  The traitor raised the gun and fired one shot, the tour guide grabbed his chest a fell backwards to the dock.

“No!  God Dammit!” Leo yelled at the slight but had no strength left to fight back.

The traitor shoved him off the dock and into the speed boat like dirty laundry down the stairs.  “Shut your damn mouth!”

The traitor pulled the tour guide’s keys out of his pocket.  Sirens could be heard in the distance and Leo thought that seemed weird.  Why would they be coming so fast?

The traitor jumped into the boat and jammed the key into the ignition and tried to start the boat, desperate to get away.

Leo’s mind wandered through the pain.  It was a fog that clouded the path that had led him here.  He tried to think of when this all started…

The man in the lobby?

No that had not been the catalyst, even though it was the obvious choice.  The catalyst had been further back.  It had been the thing that had made the Devereux’s take this vacation.  The event that had changed their lives.

When their luck had changed.

****

When their luck changed… A couple of weeks prior to the beating.

“Not it.”  Josephine said with a smile as she drove Leonard and herself home from the movies.

Leo frowned.  “I already called not it, when we were walking to the car in the parking lot.”

The ‘not it’ game was one of the many sacred games of intellect that the two played with each other. The person who lost would have to take the dogs out upon arrival at home.  The idea behind the game was that whoever said ‘not it’ first, won.  The truth was that the game was more about convincing the other person that you won, rather then actually saying it first.

“It didn’t count.”  Jo said, her smile framed by her bright, blonde, chin-length hair.

“The hell it doesn’t!” Leo said sullenly.

Jo’s brown eyes danced mischievously behind her light framed glasses.  “The rules of the game are, you have to call not it in the car on the way home.  We were not in the car when you called it.”

Leo scowled at her.  “This is what I get for marrying a Paralegal.”

Jo smirked.  “This is what you get for marrying someone smarter than you.”

Leonard sighed, realizing he had no choice but to accept his fate.  “Alright, fine.  I give.  Just stop at the gas station.  I want to grab a soda and check my ticket.”

Jo pulled into the local gas station and the two got out and walked in.  Josephine Devereux was roughly five-five.  She was hippy and stocky with soft features and a button nose that Leo had found irresistible.

“Where are you going?” Leo asked with a melodramatically raised eyebrow.

She didn’t even look back.  “I need cigarettes, and I need to make sure if you win you don’t run off with my half.”

They entered the gas station and Jo headed back toward the coolers for the pop.  “What do you want?”

“Mello Yellow, of course.”  Leo answered as he pulled his Ohio Mega Millions ticket from his wallet.

Leo watched her as she went.  They had not had the best time of things lately, Leo had lost his cook job and was a week away from being penniless with very few job opportunities.  Leo had been a high school dropout and had not gotten his G.E.D until he was twenty six.  He never went to college and never wanted to because of his absolute hatred of school in general.

His hate had cost him, however.  It had made him very undesirable in the work place.  Restaurants were just about the only ones who would take him and that was no career.  He still hadn’t figured out how he had convinced the perfect Josephine to marry him.

Nonetheless, she had.

She grabbed the soda and turned to smile at him.  A big smile ear to ear.  The action never failed to free Leonard of the depression that crippled his youth and sometimes attempted to return in his middle age. He smiled back and ran his lottery ticket through the small bar code reading machine that would tell him, as usual, sorry not a winning ticket, please play again.

He bought a ticket every week.  He did not believe he would win but he had taken to telling his wife he was going to win the lottery for her.  Obsessed with never lying to the love of his life, he had realized he had to at least play.

The thing made a digital clapping noise and a computerized voice said the word ‘winner’ twice in a row.

This had happened before, it usually meant he had won some small amount.  Usually between a dollar and fifteen had been the highest he had ever won.

The screen suddenly read the word ‘Jackpot’.

Leo stared for some time at the screen, very confused.  The word went away and he ran his ticket again.

Again the clapping and the hollowed voice.  Again, the word ‘Jackpot’.

The world began to melt away.  Hope began to well inside of him but he quickly silenced it.  This was not possible.  People did not actually win the lottery.

He looked up at the clerk who stood behind the register, a twenty something kid with weird plugs in his ears that made his lobes look six times bigger than they were.

Leo briefly wondered why anyone would want to look so much like an elephant.

“You okay, sir?” the kid asked.

“Babe, is everything alright?” Jo asked.

Leo realized he had been staring at the lottery machine for a couple of minutes more than it took to look crazy.

“I think your machine is broken,” Leo said to the clerk.

The clerk frowned at the prospect of more work.  “Why?”

He put the ticket through the machine again.

The clapping, the voice, the word jackpot.

This time Jo watched and her eyebrows shot up.  “Yeah, your machine is definitely broken.”

The clerk walked to the machine and checked the device.  “It seems to be working, why do you think it’s broken?”

“It says ‘Jackpot’ every time I run it.”  Leo replied.

“Huh,” The clerk said, just as confused.  “It’s never done that before.  Let me see the ticket.”

Leo handed him the ticket.  He ran it through the machine then watched a little display and his eyes went wide.  “Bro… you just won fifty million dollars.”

TO BE CONTINUED…