Boosted (In The Fast Lane) (14 page)

The car finally came to a stop. He heard the doors open and
shut though the engine remained on. He heard their voices outside the trunk.
They were speaking another language in casual tones. One of them even belted
out a hearty laugh.

When they opened the trunk Brody’s eyes instantly snapped
shut. The rays of the sun burned his retinas, made sensitive by his time in the
pitch black trunk. In the half second that his eyes were open he saw that they
were, in fact, somewhere out in the vast desert of inland Southern California.

“Come on out of there,” the colonel said. When Brody didn’t
move immediately he turned to the two goons standing with him. “Go on. Help him
out of there.”

They grabbed him roughly and forcibly removed him from the
trunk, dumping him unceremoniously on the ground. One of them gave him a sharp
kick in the ribs.

“Now, now,” the colonel said. “There is no need for that. He
came along with us willingly. He’s been a very good little boy so far.”

Brody made it up to his feet while still holding his ribs.
He was surprised to find that none of them was holding a gun on him. Then
again, he probably wasn’t deemed much of a threat against three of them.

“Let me ask you something, my friend. Did you know who I am
or what I have done when you decided to steal from me? I suspect not or else
you wouldn’t have done it.”

“A little,” Brody said warily.

The colonel seemed determined to tell him his story one way
or another. “I came of age in the Iranian military. Just in time to serve in
our war with Iraq. You’ve had your own troubles with them. Yes indeed. So you
know what these people are like. It was a terrible war full of unspeakable acts
of inhumanity. I admit that I contributed to these. But only after witnessing
what was being done by the other side. This was not a gentleman’s war that you
read about in storybooks. Of course, what war is? You must know by now that we
live in an age where the concept of a civilian in war no longer exists. They
all fought against us. The women had guns. The children planted bombs. I am at
peace with the things I did. Others are not. Make no mistake though, it was
because of jealousy on their part. Not any moral conviction. You see, I managed
to profit from the war. Everybody was trying, on both sides, but I was able to
actually do it. That’s why I had to leave my country, the place of my birth.
Those jackals would never have let me live. So I left. Most of my loyal men did
as well. Those who stayed did not come to a good end. I decided to come to Los Angeles.
Hollywood, you know? And my first possession, even before I had a house, was
that car. And now it is gone. Sent to the one place where I can never reach it.
You can see why I am upset.”

Brody looked the colonel in the eye. “Are you gonna kill
me?”

The colonel laughed. “Kill you? For stealing a car? No. I’m
not going to kill you. Not if I don’t have to, that is. You will follow my
instructions and then we will see what we will do with you. You want to live,
right? Huh? You want to see your girlfriend again. Yes?”

Brody nodded.

“Say it. Go on. Say that you want to live.”

Brody steeled his gaze. “I want to live.”

“That’s very good. I like you. I want you to live. I hope
you make it. I really do. You took something from me. You did it right in front
of me. You have balls. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Have you heard of
Hammurabi’s Code? It’s not from my homeland but it is a wise law nonetheless.
I’m sure you’ve heard the basics without knowing what it was called. ‘An eye
for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.’ You took my car. I could take your car, but
that would hardly be fair justice, would it? I know what kind of car you drive.
I don’t want your shitty fucking car. So here is my proposed solution. I want you
to experience life without a car. The Los Angeles nightmare, huh?”

The goons laughed at his joke. Brody didn’t get it, finding
neither the humor in it nor the logic of his punishment.

“You’re going to walk,” the colonel continued. “The town is
back that way. We’ll drive slightly ahead of you and stop at certain places to
make sure that you’re still going in the right direction. If you stray from the
right path, we will simply catch up with you and shoot you. We’ll give you, oh
let’s say, two hours to make it back. If you don’t make it back in two hours.
We will shoot you. I don’t know the exact mileage, but I would recommend that
you jog. You clock starts now. Go.”

Brody hesitated for a moment. Was this guy serious?

“Go on. Go! Go!”

Apparently he was. Brody moved his feet in the direction of
the town and eventually began to lengthen his stride into a jog. The car drove
past him, nearly sideswiping him in the process. It also kicked up a cloud of
dust that hung in the windless desert air. He coughed and closed his eyes once
again. He was already exhausted from the stress of the last seven days. From
the moment Sergei had awakened him with an early phone call until the trunk
popped open he felt as if there had been no respite. He had slept little in
that time. His head felt heavy on his shoulders. His legs already felt like
rubber and he had barely started. He couldn’t remember the last time he had run
for any extended period of time.

The sun beat down on him. Brody removed his sweat soaked
shirt. The wet denim of his jeans was beginning to chafe his legs. Soon these
were stripped and left on the desert floor as well. Down to his underwear and
free from his heavy, wet clothes Brody felt significantly better. He ran a
little freer and even felt like he was picking up speed.

The car was an ever present speck on the horizon that moved
further along whenever he began to grow close to it. There was still no sight
of the town itself. He had no way of telling how much time was passing. He
tried to count out the seconds at first but found that it was actually slowing
down his pace. Better to concentrate on the task at hand. He would know when
two hours had passed when he felt a bullet lodge itself in his chest cavity.

He thought of Hannah again. He pictured her standing before
him, always just out of his reach as he ran. She became his beacon of light. He
pressed on if only for the dim hope that he would make it and the colonel would
allow him to live so that he might one day be able to see her again in the
flesh. He trudged forward, one foot in front of the other. His feet ached, but
that wasn’t even the worst of it. His joints were on fire. His stomach was
twisted with fiery cramps. His mouth was dry and his brain spun from
dehydration. Without the image of Hannah in front of him he was sure that he
would have dropped to his knees, passed out, and fallen to the ground face
first to await his fate.

Brody was able to tap on sources of strength that he never
knew he possessed. His lungs felt like they were constantly on the verge of
collapsing but still they provided him with the oxygen he needed to fuel his
journey. His muscles fought against the lactic acid that was permeating through
them. He ignored the pain that shot through his body every time his blistered
feet slapped against the ground. He shrugged off the sunburn that now covered
every part of his exposed skin.

When the town came into view Brody felt first relief and
then a renewed sense of urgency. If he was growing close to the town it must
also mean that his time was growing short. He tried to push himself to go
faster but his legs were uncooperative. It felt as if he was wading through
quicksand. For a long while his eyes played a trick on him of making the town
seem farther away after each step he took to get closer, like trying to go up a
down escalator.

The town car had stopped on the edge of town. When Brody
grew closer the colonel and his men stepped out and watched his approach. They
seemed to be enjoying the show. They drank in his suffering. The colonel had probably
used this same tactic before. Brody could only guess how many Iraqi prisoners
he had forced into this same scenario during the war. He had probably done even
worse. It was very likely that he had even grown soft in his advanced age and
his years away from open conflict.

Brody had come within a quarter mile of them. This last
stretch was the most difficult of all. He had nothing left. He had never run
for this long in his life. His chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.
His legs were numb. The town car and the colonel were silhouetted against the
setting sun. He was more sweat than man at this point.

The colonel and his men started a sarcastic round of
applause as Brody came down the final stretch. They beckoned him forward. The
colonel glanced down at his watch. Brody gave it one final push to cover the
remaining distance. He threw himself forward and crossed the nonexistent finish
line. The next thing he knew he was laying face down on the ground, sucking in
the desert dust into his lungs with each desperate breath.

“You made it,” the colonel said. “With three minutes to
spare too. Very well done.”

Brody was too exhausted to respond. His chest heaved against
the hard-packed earth below him. He felt as if he was about to vomit.

“You lost your clothes.” This brought another laugh from his
lackeys. “They just disappeared, huh? Or did you want to give us a show?”

Brody still could not respond even if he had wanted to.

“You showed a lot of heart,” the colonel said. “You should
be proud.” He turned to his thugs. “Help him to his feet.”

They wrenched him up once again. Brody’s legs dangled and
scraped against the ground like a lifeless marionette. He could barely hold his
head up under his own power. His eyes were half shut and his dry mouth wheezed.
The colonel gave him a playful slap across the face in an effort to perk him
up.

“You’re tired? It’s not fun to be missing your car, is it?
Now you know a bit about how I feel. But you’ve only had to walk a couple
miles, only spent a few hours in my shoes. You haven’t even begun to know the
hurt you have caused me. I have no children myself. My comrades were spread
throughout the world. Some are dead. That car was my oldest companion. I have
never traveled without it.” The colonel grabbed hold of Brody’s hair and pulled
hard. “And now it is gone. Gone forever! I mourned less when my own father
died. You have not even begun to pay for this.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Brody said in something that was barely
above a whisper.

“That hardly matters. I have already dealt with the person
whose idea it was.”

“No,” Brody choked out. “It wasn’t him either.”

“Then who was it?”

“People in your country,” he said. Brody was still trying to
catch his breath. “People who knew you. It was a prank. A joke.”

“A joke? A fucking joke!” The colonel slapped Brody hard
across the face. He slapped him again and again and again out of frustration.
“This is not a fucking joke!” He punched Brody in his gut and then slapped him
again. “Let me ask you something. Did you laugh? Did you laugh when you heard
about this fucking joke that came at my expense? Tell me?” Another punch and
another pair of slaps. “Tell me!”

Brody shook his head. He could feel blood trickling out his
mouth and down his chin. He could feel the time left in his life beginning to
slip away.

“Here’s what you are going to do now. You are going to walk
again. Yes? But this time you will not go at your own pace. No. You will go as
fast as I want you to go.”

The colonel motioned to his goons. They dropped Brody back
on the ground and one of them took something out of the back seat. It was a
long coil of rope. One of them began to tie the rope to the hitch of the car
while the other tied the rope around Brody’s waist. When they had finished they
stood him on his feet once again.

“You are going to run until you can’t run anymore. I want to
see you at your absolute limit. I will drag the skin from your flesh.”

“Just shoot me,” Brody said.

“No. A bullet is too good a death for a dog like you. You
deserve to experience every moment of your death. It will not be quick. It will
not be merciful.”

Brody thought that he hallucinated what came next. A hold
popped open in the colonel’s chest and blood sprayed out. Another hole popped
open right where his heart was positioned. The same thing happened to one of
the thugs. The other was missing half of his head less than a second later.
Brody heard the glass of the windshield break as the driver was dispatched as
well. Before he knew what had happened Brody was surrounded by dead bodies. Blood
pooled around them. He looked around to see if he could find the source of the
bullets.

At first he couldn’t figure out where they had come from.
They certainly hadn’t shot each other. Then he saw three figures emerging from
different parts of the town. They came together and made their way toward the
town car. They each had a rifle slung over their shoulder. Each of the rifles
was equipped with a scope and a silencer. That explained why Brody hadn’t heard
the shots. They slowly marched toward Brody but made no signal of recognition
toward him. All three were heavily tattooed and were decked in gaudy jewelry.
They bore all the hallmarks of Russian mafia hit men. They inspected each of
the bodies. One of them removed a knife and slit each of their throats just to
make sure.

Brody looked up at these strangers. They seemed to sense his
confusion.

“They took one of ours,” one of them said. “That is
unacceptable.”

“Thank you,” Brody said. But they didn’t seem interested.
They collected the guns and money from each of the bodies.

The one with the knife spoke next. “We did not do this for
you. However, you are now indebted to us. Your life now belongs to me.”

Brody didn’t like the sounds of that. “What do you want me
to do?”

“Our operation has been temporarily interrupted. It is
important for us to pick up where we left off and show that we cannot be
intimidated. You will go back to work immediately. We expect double the
productivity.”