Don't Order Dog (52 page)

Tom smiled and raised the handgun over Alex’s head. “Goodnight, Captain America,” he said quietly before swinging the gun hard against Alex’s temple. Alex recoiled in pain, his dark blue eyes staring at Tom in surprise before slowly dilating into unconsciousness. A moment later his muscular body collapsed limply against the side of the bed.

Tom quickly glanced around the room. He needed to go –
now
. As expected, his clothes were gone. Probably collected and stuffed into an evidence bag along with everything else when he was admitted to the hospital. He briefly considered taking Alex’s clothes, but they wouldn’t fit. And there wasn’t enough time. At any moment a nurse could walk in and see what had just happened. Tom grabbed the IV stand next to the bed and, using it as a crutch, shuffled towards the door. Once there, he cracked the door open and peered down the hallway. A nurse in blue scrubs was walking in the opposite direction. He opened the door further and suddenly noticed a chair across from his door. A folded newspaper rested on the seat, a steaming cup of coffee sat next to it on the floor. Tom realized with a sudden feeling of dread that he was staring at the empty chair of a police officer stationed outside his hospital room.
Standard procedure for any hospitalized criminal… or terrorist
he though sullenly as he scanned the hallway again. Luckily, the officer must have decided to take a quick break after Alex had entered his room.

But he would be back any minute.

Tom started through the doorway when he suddenly remembered the gun in his hand. As much as he wanted to take it with him, there was no way to conceal it under his gown, and he wasn’t about to try shooting his way out of the hospital. After a brief hesitation, he tossed it into the wastebasket inside the room and shut the door behind him.

He paced quickly down the hallway,
grimacing with each step at the pain of his gunshot wound as he pushed the IV stand towards the elevator. A young female nurse suddenly appeared from a doorway in front of him. Tom looked up in surprise and gave her a pale smile. The nurse barely glanced in his direction before disappearing into another patient’s room. Tom sighed with relief and continued walking. Had the nurse looked more closely, she might have noticed he was dragging an IV stand that was missing its tubes.

He reached the elevator and hurriedly punched the button for the first floor. The pain in his leg was now nearly unbearable and a wave of nausea swept over him. Tom closed his eyes and grasped the IV stand tightly.
Keep it together
he commanded himself, forcing his body to remain standing. The silence in the hallway was finally broken by the sound of the arriving elevator. Tom opened his eyes as the elevator doors opened – and suddenly found himself staring into the eyes of a uniformed police officer.

The returning officer on duty stepped off the elevator and g
lanced at Tom.
“How you doin’?” he asked absently. 

Tom stared back at him in shock for a moment. “Me? Oh… I… I’m fine,” he stammered. The officer nodded calmly. It was clear from his reaction that he didn’t know who Tom was.

“You looking for the nurse?” the officer asked as he glanced down the hallway.

“No, I’m… I’
m just stretching my legs a bit,” Tom replied, glancing over the officer’s shoulder at the open elevator.

“Yeah, well, don’t overdo it,” the officer said as he turned and started walking down the hallway. “You don’t want
another
hospital bill, do you?”

Tom watched anxiously as he walked away. “No, I guess not,” he replied as he stepped closer to the elevator. The doors began to close and he quickly threw his arm out to stop them. As he glanced down the hallway one last time, Tom noticed the officer had suddenly paused and gripped his sidearm. He then saw what the officer was staring at.

Oh fuck.

Tom watched as his brother-in-law stumbled into the hallway, the IV tube he’d used to tie Alex to the bed rail still wrapped around his neck. Alex then
pointed past the stunned officer and shouted in a strained, guttural voice. 

“Stop him!”

Tom pushed his way through the elevator doors and flung himself inside as the officer turned and ran towards him. “C’mon!
C’mon!
” he shouted as he repeatedly punched the down button. A moment later the officer’s hand appeared in the gap and began slowly pulling one of the doors open. Tom picked up the IV stand and crashed it into the officer’s fingers. A piercing howl punctuated the air as the officer released his grip. Tom then lunged forward and began frantically pressing the doors closed. He’d nearly succeeded when the enraged face of the officer suddenly appeared in the thin gap between them. A quick flash of steel caught Tom’s attention. He looked down to see the barrel of the officer’s sidearm wedged between the doors. Before he could act, a fireball of light erupted from the barrel as a searing bolt of pain ripped through his chest. A second flash quickly followed, this one strangely silent, as another bullet tore through his body.

Keep it together. Keep it to–

Tom slowly slid to his knees, his strength drained. He vaguely noticed the elevator doors opening, the terrified face of the police officer shouting words he couldn’t hear. He looked down at his chest. A dark, sticky stain of blood covered his hospital gown and was pooling on the ground beneath him.

They’ll need bleach to clean up this mess
he thought calmly as he dropped backwards onto the elevator floor.

The officer reached for his radio and disappeared into the hallway. Tom stared vacantly at the ceiling. The coldness of the floor was seeping rapidly into his body. His vision began to blur and darken as a familiar face suddenly hovered over him. He gazed up at the solemn face of Alex
and smiled until the darkness met the cold.   

Lots and lots of bleach
.     

Jeri loosened her grip on the knife.

“Me? You were after me?” she asked, glaring at Chip. The older man nodded his head.
“But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would you go to all this effort for me?”

Chip narrowed his eyes on her irritably. “You know, you’ve been suffering from this lack of confidence ever since your father died. I thought it was finally starting to wear off, but perhaps I was wrong.”

Jeri eyed him coldly. “You didn’t know me before my father died.”

“Of course I did
,” Chip replied. “I’ve known you your whole life. You just weren’t allowed to know
me
.”

“And why was that?”

“That was our agreement,” Chip said with a shrug. “Your father and I had made some seriously powerful enemies in Washington. Regardless of how well we’d hidden our tracks, there was still a risk of being found. So we decided long before you came along that we wouldn’t let anything – or any
one
– from our past lives become a part of our new lives. It was just too dangerous. Of course that didn’t keep the two of us from grabbing the occasional drink together and exchanging stories. Your father could never wait to show me pictures of his little girl and tell me everything you were up to.” He paused for a moment, his stern expression softening. “That’s how I got to know you, Jeri. I watched you grow up through those pictures and those stories. Your father and I used to joke that I was your secret godfather. But to tell you the truth, that’s how I really felt.”

Chip turned and stared pensively at the view.

“The last time your father and I talked was just a few weeks before he died. I think he knew something was wrong, but he certainly didn’t want to talk about it. We talked about the usual stuff… how proud he was of you and how he was convinced you were even more brilliant than he ever was. I remember he was especially proud at that moment because you were finishing up your master’s degree in economics. He said he could only imagine what incredible things you’d be doing in a few years.”

Jeri looked away from Chip for a moment, her eyes suddenly wet with tears.

“The only reason I suspected something might be wrong was because he asked me for a favor. It was only the second time your father had ever asked me for a favor, so I knew it had to be serious.”

“What was the favor?”

“He asked me to keep an eye on you.”

“And this is how you repay him?” Jeri asked angrily, wiping at her face. “By kidnapping me into your agency?”

“That’s right,” Chip said firmly as he turned and met her stare. “And I have no regrets about it. Do you think it’s been easy watching you waste your life away in a forgotten old saloon for the last year while you quietly mourned the loss of your father? Is that what you think he wanted for you? Is that even remotely close to what you’ve wanted for yourself?” He stepped forward and narrowed his blue eyes on her intensely. “I brought you here – I brought you
into this –
for two reasons.
The first was because I owed it to your father. The second was because I owed it to you. He was right – you
are
brilliant – and I need you.
We
need you.”

Jeri looked at him skeptically for a moment before shaking her head. “And you expect me to believe that becoming a terrorist is the best use of my skills?”

The older man smiled. “You still don’t understand what we do.”

“Then tell me, Chip!” Jeri demanded. “Tell me what you do!”

Chip nodded his head towards the open doors of the van.
“I’d prefer if he did that.”

Jeri glanced outside. A short distance away, a tall figure stood at the edge of the
tall bluff, staring out at the sea. Even with his back towards her, Jeri immediately recognized his thin frame and short, curly dark hair.

“Why should I ask him?” she asked quietly.

“Because as of this moment I’m officially retired,” Chip replied matter-of-factly. “I’ve been doing this shit for far too long. It’s time for me to sit down at a bar and drink a beer without having to worry about you or them or some goddamn assignment. Not that I won’t still worry… but I’m hoping that’ll fade with time.” He looked out at the lone figure of Chilly standing on the bluff. “He’s a lot younger than I am, and a helluva lot better at this than I ever was. I’m sure you two will get along just fine.”

Jeri looked at him skeptically. “You promise he won’t try to kill me?”

Chip laughed and gave her a sympathetic smile.
“I promise. Just go out there and talk to him.”

Jeri looked at the knife in her hand for a moment before tucking it carefully into her pocket. “Fine,” she said firmly as she walked past Chip and stepped out of th
e van. She took a few steps before pausing and looking back. “But if he so much as looks at me funny, I’ll carve him like a pumpkin.”
 

∞

An arid wind blew steadily against Jeri’s back as she marched across the rocky, sun-scorched ground. Her eyes flickered nervously from the spindly, thorn-covered branches of ocotillo growing around her to the dark-haired figure standing at the edge of the bluff. A short distance ahead, Chilly stared quietly out at the sea, ignoring the incessant wind as it ruffled his jeans and white t-shirt. Jeri moved towards him cautiously, avoiding anything on the ground that might crack underfoot and announce her presence. Every few steps a sunbathing lizard darted nervously from her shadow. When she was finally within speaking distance, she stopped and stood silently, her eyes fixed on his broad shoulders.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Chilly asked without turning around.    

Jeri stepped back in surprise. A loud snap immediately punctured the silence as her foot landed on a dry branch.
Goddamn it!
she inwardly screamed at herself, chastising her own stupidity. She then took a deep breath and forced herself to look around at the view.

“Yes,” she said quietly
. “It’s beautiful.”

“Warmer than usual for this time of year,” Chilly mumbled. “Feels almost like summer.”

“You’ve been here before?” Jeri asked.

“Many times,” he replied
, waving her forward. “Come up here. I want to show you something.”

Jeri glanced around warily before stepping forward. The ground rose gently towards the edge of the plateau before terminating in a nearly vertical drop to the deserted beach below. She approached the edge, careful to stay well out of arms reach, and looked down.

It was clear that a fall from the bluff would be fatal. 

“See that?” Chilly said, pointing towards a small, dome-shaped island that stood stark white in the center of the bay. “That’s Isla Raza. Believe it or not, that little lifeless-looking piece of rock is home to over three-hundred thousand nesting birds. That’s why it’s so white
… all those countless birds shitting on it for god knows how many years.” He shrugged dismissively. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

Jeri shook her head. “In what way?”

“That something so pure from a distance is really just covered in shit.” He suddenly turned and looked at her. “Anyway, welcome to Mexico, Jeri.”

Jeri didn’t respond as she studied his face in the full light of day. For the first time she was clearly able to see her
Mysterious Joe’s Last Stand Guy
from the letters and photos. He stared back at her calmly, his thin, chiseled face and large, intelligent brown eyes smiling with humor. Looking at him now, Jeri suddenly realized he was even more handsome than she had remembered from the bar.

She broke her s
tare and pointed at his chest.
“You’re not wearing your usual outfit.”

Chilly glanced down and nodded. “I know… I apologize. I thought my
Joe’s
t-shirt could use a little time off. To be honest, it was in desperate need of a wash.” He turned and again looked out at the view. “Did you like my letters?”

“Of course I did,” Jeri replied. “How could I not? Your descriptions of the places
, your stories about the people around you, your completely warped sense of humor… I loved all of it.” She reached into her pocket and wrapped her fingers around the handle of the utility knife. “But what I loved most of all were your cleverly hidden messages to Chip regarding the status of your latest victims.”

Chilly smiled as he stared down at the turquoise-colored water beneath them. “Me too,” he said quietly.

Jeri watched him expectantly. “So?” she finally asked, taking a step closer.

Chilly glanced over at her. “So
what
?”

“Chip said you were going to explain everything to me.”

“He did? Wait, let me guess – did he tell you he was retiring?”

Jeri glanced behind her. In the distance the older man was leaning against the van watching them. He raised his arm and waved.

“Well, yeah… he did,” she replied as she turned and gave Chilly a quizzical look. “What difference does it make?”

“I should have known,” Chilly said, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea how many times Chip has pulled this stunt? He’s retired more times than Sugar Ray Leonard.” He turned and once again focused his attention on the view.

Jeri glared at him as a sudden wave of anger erased her timidness. Without thinking she walked over and grabbed him roughly by the arm. “Listen,” she said, twisting him towards her, “I don’t give a damn about Chip’s retirement status. I just spent twelve hours stuffed inside an oversized toolbox wondering if someone was going to put a bullet in my head. And now I’m stuck in the middle of Mexico with a murdering pen pal and an old man who wants me to be a part of his
agency
– whatever the hell that means. My entire world has been turned upside down because of you two, and I’m
done
. I want some fucking answers. So tell me,” she said, quickly pulling the utility knife from her pocket and pressing the blade to his throat. “What am I doing here, and why should I believe you’re anything more than a terrorist?”

Chilly glanced down at
the knife before looking admiringly into Jeri’s eyes.
“Nicely done.”

“Thank you. Now start talking.”

He stared at her intently with a tight, serious expression. “Do you know how many people under the same circumstances have attempted what you just did?”

“No, and I don’t care.”

“Less than one percent,” Chilly replied matter-of-factly. “I’m serious. We’ve run this scenario countless times before, but no one’s ever tried this. Regardless of how scared or angry they’ve been, no one’s ever used that knife to confront me. That’s impressive.”

Jeri pressed the knife harder against his neck. “I swear to
god, if you don’t start explaining what this is about, I’m going to–”

Chilly suddenly leaned his body back away from the sharp blade. At the same time he deftly grabbed her wrist and snapped her arm violently upwards. In an instant Jeri was lifted off the ground and propelled towards him. She collided against his broad chest as he wrenched her arm overhead, forcing her to lose her grip on the knife. Jeri then watched in stunned silence as her only weapon flew high into the air above them before sailing over the edge of the bluff. She followed its tumbling descent to the beach far below, then glanced anxiously at Chilly. His handsome face hovered just inches from hers. He stared back at Jeri with a placid, friendly expression as he slowly lowered her arm, his muscular body pressed firmly against hers.

He then gently released her wrist and took a step back.

“Recruitment, Jeri,” he said calmly, reaching into his back pocket. “That’s the answer to your question. To
all
of your questions.”

Jeri watched as he pulled a cigarette from a mangled pack and quickly lit it. His dark, intelligent eyes narrowed on her as he inhaled. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

“I’m telling you what we do,” he said matter-of-factly. “We’re not terrorists. We’re corporate recruiters.”

Jeri eyed him skeptically. “You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay then, convince me.”

Chilly gave her a thin smile as a gust of hot, sandy wind swept over the bluff, whipping the smoke from his cigarette into oblivion. “Did you read the book?” he asked flatly.

“Yes, I did,” Jeri replied. “What else was I supposed to do on the drive down?”

“Care to give me a quick summary?”

Jeri cocked her head in irritation. “Is this a test?”

Chilly smiled. “Everything’s a test, Jeri.”

“Fine, here’s your summary,” Jeri replied curtly. “My father believed that the world’s economic power was going to shift from major governments to large multi-national corporations. He based this belief on a fundamental rule of evolutionary biology – that an organism’s size and strength are dictated by the limitations of its environment
.
Of course ‘environment’ is better defined as ‘economy’ in this sense, but the principle still applies. My father understood that while a government’s growth and power are limited by the boundaries of its own economy, those same limitations are far broader for global corporations. Of course, if you believe my father’s premise, then you know it’s only a question of time before the world’s largest corporations grow into the
corporate states
he described. Once they do, they will become the new economic and financial world powers; the
global apex predators
that control everything around them. From the governments that set the laws, to the media that cover the news, to the consumers that purchase the products– the corporate states’ collective political and economic influence will be inescapable. From that point forward, nothing will be as it appears. Corporate-driven wars designed for pure economic gain will be sanctioned by governments and fought under the guise of humanitarian or ideological differences. Corporate-controlled media will subvert the true facts to coincide with their own agendas. And the rest of us – the consuming masses – well, most of us won’t have a clue that anything ever changed in the first place.”