Running on Empty (43 page)

‘You get what I asked for?’

‘I got it’.

‘Good lad Charlie, I knew you wouldn’t let me down’.

‘I didn’t have much choice, what with you dragging up ancient history, and everything. What the hell is going on Brad?’

‘Now Charlie, I told you I’d let you know, but now’s not the time’.

‘When is?’

‘Soon Charlie, as soon as I can, ok?’

‘Ok. You be careful Johnson, if you want to see that pension of yours’.

‘I will, Charlie, touch base with you later, fair enough?’

Brad began to walk away, stopped, and returned.

‘Oh, one more thing, Charlie’.

‘You’re really pushing your luck Johnson, you know that?’

‘I know, I know. I’m not doing this for fun Charlie, believe me’.

‘What?’ he asked exasperated.

‘It’s no big deal, just a little info, that’s all’.

‘Well?’

‘Well, there’s this guy, Will Harmon. He’s a bit of a player in the agency. I just need a bit of background information on him’.

‘Jesus Brad, what the fuck are you messed up in?’

‘Don’t worry Charlie, it’s just a bit of background stuff I need to know, nothing that’ll contravene the official secrets act, just mundane stuff’.

‘Like what?’

‘Like, does he live alone? Has he kids? That sort of thing’.

‘I’ll see what I can do. I’m not promising anything mind’.

‘Thanks, Charlie. I knew I could count on you. I’ll be in touch, right?’

‘Whatever’.

And with that, Brad headed back to the car, carrying a small plastic bag of tricks. At the hotel, he joined up with the others. Pat began.

‘Right, our main objective is to enter that apartment and get everyone back out safely, including Melody, provided we’re in time to save her obviously. Hopefully we can achieve that without any mishaps, or any violence. However, notwithstanding our best laid plans and all that, I’ll be on the adjacent roof, and Brad will be nearby should it all go awry. Grainne, you know what to do, and Tom, you might have to improvise a bit, but you understand the general gist of it’.

Do we all know what we have to do?’ asked Brad.

They all nodded, except Joey, who was plainly suffering, and Sally, who hadn’t been mentioned.

‘What about me?’ she enquired.

‘Well Sally’ began Brad, ‘you can get the coffee’.

‘What?’

‘At some stage, we all get the coffee. Your time’s now’.

‘I don’t understand’ she answered, ‘is that a joke?’

‘Well, yes and no’ answered brad ‘it’s a line from a movie, and I was just making light of the situation by using it. But to be serious, you’re not as mobile as the rest of us, and the situation that unfolds may require mobility, as in running away for instance. So, I think it’s better that you’re not directly involved in this part of the plan, but don’t worry, your time will come’.

Sally subconsciously bit her lower lip as she nodded slowly, not at all happy with her lack of a role in the operation, while at the same time understanding the judgment. Everyone in the room was worried about Joey, that he was the weak link, who could say or do something that would jeopardize everything, and possibly get someone killed. It would have been preferable to leave him out of the loop altogether, but that wasn’t an option. Today was the day when Gorgeous expected Joey to deliver his package, or else Melody would die, presuming she wasn’t dead already.

The car pulled into a side street a block from Hillcrest. Pat was the first to exit the vehicle. He stood in the harsh morning sunshine, wearing a navy boiler suit and woolen hat, and removed a long canvas bag from the trunk before slamming it shut.

‘Good luck’ called Brad as he walked from the vehicle.

‘Good luck yourself’ he replied over his shoulder, as he strolled down towards Hillcrest.

Pat entered the decrepit apartment block on the opposite side of the road to 118. The lift was out of action, so he took to the stairs, walking passed the graffiti-covered walls, trying to ignore the acrid smell of urine. He got to the top floor, coming to a stop at a narrow steel door which accessed the roof. The door was padlocked, as he had anticipated. He reached into his canvas bag, removed a De Walt battery grinder, and set to work on the lock. As he got half way through, the apartment door adjacent to him opened.

A man, wearing only a vest and boxers, and two days stubble, glared over.

‘What the fuck is all the noise about motherfucker?’ he yelled above the din of the grinder.

Pat turned slowly, switching off the machine for a moment.

‘You like rat-piss?’ he asked in a slow drawl.

‘Huh?’

‘I said, do you like rat-piss?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, we got a report that there’s a couple a dead rats in the water tank up on the roof. Now, I can leave ‘em there if you like, if you don’t mind rat-flavored coffee. So, what’s it gonna be, a bit of noise, or Weil’s disease. Your call’.

Vest man didn’t reply, just turned back into his apartment, muttering to himself as he slammed the door shut. Pat returned to his grinding. When the lock was cut, he pulled the door open and stepped into the well, pulling it closed behind him. He reached into his bag and took out a length of wire rope, wrapped it through the handle and secured it in place with a gripple. Then he climbed an iron ladder which led to the boiler room, and pushed out the door to the roof. He walked over to one side, crouching as he got near the edge, to where it overlooked Hillcrest. He reached into his bag and removed a headset, fitting it in position. He then pulled out a Browning A-bolt hunting rifle, fitting the sights and tripod, and lay down in sniper posture, adjusting the sight while scanning the windows in 3B. He smiled. The Browning was no Barrett M-90, but at this range, a bow and arrow would probably have done the job.

A cab pulled up a couple of doors down from 118 and out stepped Grainne. She wore a short black dress and white top that displayed her shapely figure, and an unbuttoned fawn colored cashmere jacket. Over her shoulder was slung a medium sized travel bag as she began slowly walking towards 118, pausing as she stared at each door along the way, a look of puzzlement on her face. She came to a stop at the door where leather jacket stood, still confused.

‘What’s up sis, you lost?’

‘Huh? Oh sorry, yes I think I am a bit’.

‘That’s one funny accent you got there sis, where you from?’

‘Ireland. I’m from Ireland actually. I’m over to see my cousin, but I’m not sure of her address. I think she said 118 Hillcrest. I think that’s what she said, but I’m not sure. I can’t even call her to check, because I seem to have lost my cell phone too. I’m such a dizzy brain sometimes. You don’t know if a Sandra Delaney lives here, do you?’

‘Sorry sis, I don’t live here, I sorta just hang out. I have a friend that lives here see, so I wouldn’t know. You gotta name sis?’

‘Oh yeah, it’s Mia’ she said, extending a hand, ‘Mia Andrews, what’s yours?’

‘I’m Theo’ he answered, ‘but my friends call me TC’

She caressed his hand slightly as they shook. TC’s eyes lit up, and he became aware of a slight movement in his groin from the seductive handshake.

‘Now I don’t know what to do’ she said, still clasping his hand. ‘Here I am in Boston, I don’t know where my cousin lives, and I’ve nowhere to stay tonight. I don’t know anyone else here, and to top it all, I’ve no work. Sandra was supposed to fix me up with a job, but I guess that’s out the window now’.

She looked at TC with her big blue eyes.

‘Maybe I could fix you up Mia. I’m sure I could get you work’ he said, his eyes quickly darting down at her full figure before returning to look at her face’.

‘But, you don’t understand. I don’t have a work permit, or social security. For all intents and purposes, I don’t exist in America’.

This gets better and better, thought TC. Gorgeous is going to love me for this. But I have first go. After all, I found her.

‘That won’t be a problem Mia, not a problem at all. TC here’s going to look after you, don’t you fret girl’.

They barely noticed the middle aged workman, carrying a small stepladder in one hand and toolbox in the other, as he trudged slowly past through the doorway of 118.

Brad began climbing the stairs, listening all the while as he moved, until he arrived on the second floor landing, one floor below 3B. Once there, he unfolded the stepladder, took a screwdriver from the toolbox, and proceeded to remove the trunking which covered the electrical cables. He fitted the earpiece, and waited. Pat surveyed the scene through his binoculars.
Come on Grainne, you’ve done your bit,
he thought, G
et to hell out of there.
He scanned back up the street, and saw Tom and Joey approaching on foot, about fifty yards back. Tom wore a sharply cut charcoal grey business suit and an open top shirt. Joey wore a hang-dog expression, and carried a shoulder bag.

‘On your toes Brad, it’s show time’ he spoke quietly into the head set. Grainne glanced down the street, before turning to TC.

‘Listen, I going to find a bank to change some Euro into dollars, and grab a bite to eat. I’ll be back soon, ok? Then we can see about that job you were talking about’.

She took his hand again and squeezed it gently.

‘You don’t forget about me while I’m gone’ she added, winking.

‘No chance of that sis. Hurry back now, y’hear?’

And with that, Grainne turned on her heel and walked on up the street, absently wiping her hand on her fawn coat.

‘Now, remember what we talked about Joey. You say nothing. Leave the talking to me. Understand?’

Joey nodded solemnly. Tom took a deep breath.

‘Right, here goes’.

TC turned his attention from the sight of Grainne disappearing into the distance, to the two men standing in front of him.

‘Yeah?’

‘We’re here to see Gorgeous’.

‘And who the fuck are ‘we’’

‘This is Joey. He’s a package to deliver to your boss, and I’m from Nebraska, where the package originates. So, I think you’d better drop the expletives and tell Gorgeous we’re here, or you’ll face the consequence of having a pretty irate boss on your hands, understand?’

TC fumbled in his jacket pocket, pulled out a cell phone and spoke.

‘He says to go on up. He’s in 3B, that’s on the third floor. Sorry about that, but you can’t be too careful. Didn’t mean to offend, like’.

The two men walked past, saying nothing, and proceeded to climb the stairs, brushing by a workman with a ladder on the second floor.

How the fuck was I supposed to know,
thought TC,
and the day began so good, what with that Irish piece of ass, and everything.

Tom rapped twice on the steel reinforced door which opened almost immediately, revealing a heavily muscled skinhead in a white Adidas tracksuit.

‘Come on in’ shouted Gorgeous from the back of the room.

Tom and Joey entered. As the door closed behind them, the skinhead began frisking Tom, who immediately pulled away.

‘What the hell is this?’ he asked, agitated.

‘No calm down’ said Gorgeous soothingly, ‘Just a precaution, my man. I’ve never set eyes on you before, I don’t know nothin’ about you, and I sure as fuck didn’t expect our Joey here to have an escort. So, with all due respect, I’m entitled to see if you’re packing. You don’t like it, then get the fuck outta my crib’.

Tom relented, allowing himself to be frisked, glad in the knowledge the others had decided it would be foolish to even contemplate fitting him with a wire. He surveyed the room. The one doing the talking, who he presumed was Gorgeous, lounged in an overstuffed armchair backing on to the window, making it difficult to make out his features properly. All Tom could be sure of was that he also wore a tracksuit, navy this time, and he was big, as big as the ape that was now frisking him. There was one more in the room, sitting next to the tv, eyeing up Tom suspiciously between taking hits from a small pipe. The skinhead finished frisking and stood back up.