Travel Bug (39 page)

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Authors: David Kempf

BOOK: Travel Bug
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“Apology accepted, sir.”

“Wait, why?”

“I always considered us to be friends even after you would not return calls or do anything else to make an attempt to keep me in your life. My family was a disgrace in a successful neighborhood that otherwise symbolized the American dream!”

“How can I make it up to you, now that I know you and I are the same?”

“Martin Wesley and John Calvin will be here soon. Very soon, indeed, my old friend, they are hot on your trail.”

“They were smart enough to keep up with me?”

“Well, yes, but look at this way, just like the police, the never show up until after the crime has been committed and the corpse wished he never gave anyone a pair of small scissors while he was a living victim.”

“Yes,” he answered Thomas.

“What do you want from me?”

“Luther, you are such a perceptive and brilliant assassin. Thanks for catching up and discovering the truth so quickly. Perhaps you should have been a detective instead of a soldier.”

“What?”

“Never mind, there will be an opening for a constable and a detective after tonight.”

“You mean to kill them?”

“Luther, wars have casualties and the lives of two men, the prevention of a potential of millions of deaths. Besides, do you really know Calvin and Wesley the same way I do?”

“No, I suppose I don’t”

“Right, you really do not.”

“I think that may just be terrorists or at least… sympathizers.”

Luther Knox now realized that he was at the mercy of this man who had a dog who was exactly like his cat. That meant no ordinary animal but rather another government assassin adviser. Now Luther truly saw the price of failure. It was appalling but unavoidable. If one was caught killing terrorists who were flawlessly disguised as patriots, then the ultimate in false labeling would begin. It would be an immense slander of biblical proportions to be sure. The worse thing in the world is to be represented directly opposite of one’s own truthful self-image.

“How will we be able to tell?” he asked.

“Don’t worry,” said Thomas. “I promise you I’ll tell you when I begin to receive my signals.”

“Okay, I guess,” he answered him.

“Everyone and his mother knows how much you hated this professor, even before you were sent to battle to search for weapons of mass destruction,” said Thomas.

“I see.”

“I don’t know how much longer we have but we’re going to run of time soon. Here… help me.”

The man’s body was propped back up in his chair by Thomas, with a little help from his fried. Although Luther despised him while he was living, he felt disgust at this disrespect of the recently departed.

“The window… still open, Luther, it is, right?”

“It is” he answered.

“Good.”

“Why?”

“Listen.”

“Oh.”

He did listen.

“They really were right on my trail, weren’t they?”

“I told you that they were.”

“Yes, you did.”

Now something wondrous was occurring on an evening that was becoming more and more bloody by the hour. The body count getting bigger wasn’t a wise bet, it was a sure thing. The little dark miracle here was that trust was growing between these two men. Surely they were a murderous pair that distrusted their fellow man far, far worse than any cynic who occupied this institution as a student or professor.

“So soon,” said Luther.

“What do you mean, Thomas?”

“I want a shot at that fucking idiot Calvin.”

“Then have at it, friend.”

“I want to, hell, I don’t know……”

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

It was a long rope that was hidden in Luther’s jacket. He never had the opportunity to use it. Doubting Thomas caught him too quickly by surprise. No doubt, he was not the first nor would he ever be the last to ever be caught off guard. The man was full of surprises.

“Oh, so this was the intended and dreaded end of him?”

“It was, yes.”

“Professor Reilly, in his office with a candlestick, oh, I mean rope.”

“Amusing,” he said.

“I assume this is because you want to give him the same demise as the great dictators that have haunted us all through history. Perhaps Mussolini would be the best example.”

“That would be the reason, yes, Thomas.”

“The ones who got what they deserved I mean.”

“Well, yes, of course,” Luther answered him.

Now the noises were louder, the wartime veteran looked outside the professor’s window. Many sirens and lots and lots of flashing lights were what his eyes witnessed. This was truly the show of all shows. An amazing event that was truly inspired by the sheer madness and chaos of life on earth and the incredible moments of survival of the fittest that it displayed every second of every calendar day. This was an alarming trend but it was the truth of the hellish existence of mankind. Time was short. It was closing in. They had few moments.

“At least one, probably both of these men deserve the same fate as them for being what they are.”

“What would that be?” asked a calm Luther.

“Treasonous traitors, that’s what they are.”

“I see,” he answered them.

The human drama, for all it’s worth, was really and truly growing here. They were right on time: to catch infamous history in the making. Whether or not they would kill Calvin and Wesley was irrelevant. There was a good chance, a dammed good one that both of these very unusual men would meet their maker (if there was one) this very night for the sake of all their crazy actions!

“Not long now,” Luther.

“No, my old good buddy,” said Doubting Thomas.

“We must hide in the dark, I think.”

“That’s where we belong.”

“In the dark, you mean.”

“I do.”

“The let us prepare for our destiny.”

“Well said, Luther.”

“Thanks.”

“Now shut the fuck up!”

He did just that. Then the familiar voices were heard.

“Martin, are you sure he would really attack this man?”

“I am,” he answered Calvin.

“Are you really sure?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Okay, let’s go to his office then.”

“You’re quite an officer of the law, Calvin.”

“Thanks,” he answered Wesley.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered.

“Oh, should we be keeping it down now,” he whispered back.

“Yes,” he said.

“Okay,” Wesley whispered back.

“Don’t worry; we’ll get this Luther Knox.”

“He’s the least of our worries,” said Martin Wesley.

“What?”

“Goddamn it, Doubting Thomas is loose!”

“How do you know he’s here?”

This was a good question because this was a long shot. That’s what made this maniac so utterly menacing. He always, always beat the odds. Even when someone had five as much more of a chance to win the power ball, he won. The house was way behind when it came to Thomas Grey. They were well known as neighbors when Thomas had his breakdown with his father. Even more than that, he was the man’s only friend. These were desperate men who were also… lonely. A hunch got these two men to discover the body of Mr. West. Now there was so much more at stake than there was before.

“Luther is crazy but Thomas is lucid and insane!”

“What?” Calvin asked.

“Just take my word for it,” Wesley said. “The son of a whore is here!”

“Okay.”

It didn’t take a real long time for the four men to see one another in the dead professor’s office. Luther and Wesley fought like they were gladiators. Then Thomas and Calvin went at it. Martin Wesley and Luther Knox were to say the least much more evenly matched. Calvin and Thomas were not. Thomas was going to kill him, it was fairly obvious. There would at the very least be one victim of terror tonight. It was probable that there would be even more. One, two, three or even all of these men could meet their maker (if there was one to meet) this very night at Donnis University.

“I’ll get you!” screamed John Calvin.

Martin Wesley watched in horror as Calvin jumped inside the office of the late professor. He already knew the man was dead. He would have been shocked to hear that it was Thomas who killed him. The man had killed himself by his own absurd bravery. One of the man’s quirks was that he often enjoyed watching other people kill. It was kind of like the way his father felt much more comfortable being all liquored up if other people were drinking at a party. This was serious business. He wasn’t sure whether or not Thomas was going to train him to work up to his level of evil or merely gut him like a fish. The man never let you know exactly how his mind was working. There were only moments. He was like trying to guess the plot of a movie by the preview attraction. With this man, the coming attractions were so terrifying that you didn’t want to see the film in its entirety.

“Hello, fat man!” screamed Thomas.

Luther turned on the lights.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” asked Thomas, chastising him.

“I……”

Martin knew what Calvin did was incredibly stupid in this moment. His parents had always taught him it was morally wrong to compare people. God gave different spiritual gifts of the Holy Spirit to everyone that was unique only to them. Now he couldn’t feel the same way mom and dad did right now. Martin Wesley desperately wished Jack Smith was here instead of Calvin. If there were jinn in the office, he would have made it his one wish in a lifetime.

“You’re under arrest,” said Calvin, shaking.

“No, you’re under detest,” said Thomas. He then took his gun and shot him in the stomach with it. Calvin fell backwards and he screamed for what seemed to be an eternity.

“Damn you, Thomas!” screamed Calvin.

“Wow, you sound a little bit like a cross between my dad and that idiot drunk who used to be your partner.

“I’ll……”

Thomas hit Wesley over the head. It took him a moment to realize that it was with his own gun. Then he fell backwards and landed on top of the mortally wounded, heavily bleeding John Calvin.

“You will fail?”

“No,” he answered Thomas.

“I’ll finish it if you want me to do that,” said his old neighbor Luther.

“No, amateur hour, I think that I can take it from here. Why don’t you go ask your goldfish if the university’s parking lot security guards are working for Al-Qaeda?”

“What?”

“Oh, don’t worry; just shut the fuck up and I’ll let you know what we can do next to keep the world safe for democracy.”

“Okay,” he answered him with growing contempt.

“Martin, you know… it seems that whenever you arrive on the scene, that the murder has already taken place. That’s what I hate about the police and all the great detectives thought-out history, both in fiction and nonfiction.”

“Are you okay, John?”

“Yes, Martin,” he said.

“We’ll get you to a hospital soon.”

“Good,” he said, his strength fading.

“Sure, we’ll do that, later,” said Thomas.

Martin was starting to regain his strength and his dizziness was fading fast. He looked for a brief and horrifying moment into the eyes of the sociopath. Thomas knew he did not have a lot of time before Wesley would make another stupid attempt to try and stop him. He didn’t have much time at all and both men knew this.

“I’ll bet that you wish your old partner were here right now, instead of this fucking fat troll. Am I right, old friend?”

“No,” answered Martin Wesley.

“God damn you, Martin. If you don’t admit the truth then I will make him die in a way that you will never forget for the rest of your life.”

“So… that implies you’ll let me live beyond this night?”

“Perhaps, yes.”

Martin was surprised by this reaction. It could be said that Thomas and him were lifelong enemies and he thought it was way too soon for the game to end.

“Well, old friend. You admit one thing and I will give you want you want about my new partner here.”

“Sure.”

“What?” asked Martin, terrified and surprised.

“Name it.”

“Really, just as easy as that, name it?”

“Yes.”

“For the love of God, please name it so I can get to… hospital…”

“Please, shut up, John,” said Thomas.

“Look, I…”

He kicked the dying man so hard in the head that it made him instantly lose consciousness. Martin Wesley broke out in tears when he saw that the old man so close to death. It was hard to take. He was stupid, he was fat, he was incompetent but the man had two things going for him. Bravery and ego and no one could ever take them away.

“Okay,” shouted Wesley.

“Yes?” asked Thomas.

“Admit that you would rather work alone than with this crazed, pathetic loser. He’s a man so mad that he probably will build… a bomb shelter of some sort.”

“Is that true?” Thomas asked.

The irony was that he did plan to do that but only after receiving official orders to do so. How could one fight terrorism and ignore the worst possible scenario? The unthinkable happened to millions of innocents in Germany. From there point of view, it certainly happened in Japan when the two big ones were dropped. So, yes, he and Moose ultimately planned to be survivor types instead of victims.

“Yes it is.”

“Wow,” said Martin.

“Very good,” said Thomas.

There was a brief pause.

“It’s natural for man to want to survive that does not make me a loser.”

“No, we’re just following orders,” said Thomas.

“Right,” he answered him.

“Where did you park?”

“Row B, 126,” answered Luther.

“Thanks.”

Martin was curious what might happen next between these two men. One the victim of a father, the other the victim of a war and both insane, and it was as simple as that.

“I’m happy to tell you that Martin Wesley is not a terrorist.”

“Really?” asked Luther, growing very suspicious of Thomas.

“Not this guy, he is no terrorist even by the loosest definition.”

The brief spell that Thomas had Luther under was now gone. It’s time was over. The man was using him and mocking him! Then a terrible thought occurred to him. What if this sarcasm had a point it? Maybe it was time to take a reality brake. If Thomas was not receiving messages then neither was he, he couldn’t be a secret agent. He was merely a madman like Doubting Thomas. Luther Knox was insane and a killer, just much more innocently and much less successful than his childhood neighbor was.

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