2 A Month of Mondays (8 page)

In a fire fight, with hundreds of people’s lives at stake,
this thought comforted him.
Odd to feel comfort when you are staring at a
crazy man five feet away, ready to put 230 grains of death in your skull
,
Jake thought.

Jake stared at the man, his eyes narrowed and his feet
planted. His hands were like knives at his sides. He noted the man’s hands now.
The man wore tight-fitting, dark leather gloves. Assassin’s gloves. A flood of
memories came to Jake. He had not experienced anything like that in a long time.
Memories.

It was then he knew what he was really facing. A real killer.
Not good with a knife, maybe, but that Colt in his hand had taken almost a
hundred lives.

“Jackson Minefee?”

Jackson smiled, his crooked and yellowed teeth showing. There
was no mirth there, only a cocky assuredness. He was ex-Special Forces. Tough. Getting
long in the tooth and sloppy, but he was determined and had just the right
amount of crazy and courage to be an adequate assassin.

“You remember me. That is good. I want to be the last thing
on your mind, Monday.”

He raised the Colt in a fluid motion. The aim would be true.
Jake had one chance.

Jake allowed his feet to collapse from under him and he
dropped to the ground in a push-up position. He heard the report over his head
and felt the air above him move with the force of the bullet’s trajectory.

When he looked up, he saw the ragged hole in Jackson’s Orioles
jersey.  Jake could see a hole in the seat back two rows up. Jackson was
turning in the direction of the hit, his eyes registering pain and confusion.

Jake panicked for a moment. He hoped that Jackson would not
pull a random shot into the crowd. Hallie’s shot had hit bone and muscle. It
was not a killing shot.

Jackson’s face changed from fear to anger as Jake hopped
back up to standing, knowing that Hallie would not follow the shot out of
professional judgment.

As Jackson brought the Colt back in line with his right
hand, Jake reached out and grabbed the bullet wound in Jackson’s other shoulder
and pushed, throwing him to the seats behind him. He sat, unceremoniously, and
struggled to bring his pistol under Jake’s ribs. Jake sat straddled across
Jackson’s lap. He chopped down with his left hand on Jackson’s thumb. Once,
twice, striking quickly and savagely.

Jake watched the color drain from Jackson’s face as he drove
his thumb into the wound even farther. Jake grabbed the pistol and turned
Jackson’s wrist inward just as he pulled the trigger. He felt the gun buck
against his body, could feel the heat from the muzzle, could hear the metallic
clink of the spent cartridge as it hit the concrete.

Jackson slumped in the chair, his eyes rolling back in his
head, blood coating his tongue and teeth as he smiled at Jake.

“Thank you for a quick death, Monday. I think I should take
you with me. We will both be in Hell, I think,” Jackson said. It was a gut shot.
Jackson was as good as dead, but he still had the gun. Jake kept his wrist
turned, so the pistol remained against the spreading pool of blood across
Jackson’s ragged Oriole’s jersey. He leaned back, removed his hand from
Jackson’s shoulder, and punched him in the temple with a sharp rap.

Jackson’s head jerked back and his eyes closed and his teeth
clacked. He was out. He would soon bleed to death.

“Get an ambulance!  He’s shot!” Jake yelled. He looked at
Jackson and whispered, “Meet you there later, maybe.”

He glanced over at Hallie, still in a shooter’s stance, a
worried expression on her face. He felt like she was judging him. The look on
her face was of disbelief at the act of violence he had just demonstrated.

He had not started it. He had certainly ended it. With Hallie’s
help, in fact. She was the one who had fired her weapon in the line of duty. He
had simply survived.

“What? I don’t want him to die. I’m no longer a killer,”
Jake said, bitterly.

The look of sadness and compassion on Hallie’s face almost
brought him to tears.

“You never were, Jake. He was not here for the Senator. He
was here to kill you.”

“Oh.”

It was then that he noticed all the cameras. This was a
heated rivalry and so MLB television and  MASN television crews and cameras
were everywhere. It wasn’t enough that thirty thousand people had just
witnessed an assassination attempt (two, actually). It would be replayed on
Sports Center, on MLB network, and on CNN for a week. His face, his identity,
his skills would be on display for all to see.

He looked over Hallie’s shoulder at Senator Swane. His face
was a mask of fear and disgust. His eyes revealed that he was shocked, but
defiant. He was still processing what had happened. Jake shook his head.

“No. Not me. The Senator is running for office. I remembered
Jackson, Hallie. He is a political specialist. He was hired by Galbraith in my
absence. He did not expect me to be here. Who would?”

Hallie looked at him doubtfully.

“I hope you are right, Jake. I can’t stand to lose you.”

He smiled sadly and allowed a medic to slip past him to tend
to Jackson. He was sure Jackson would not make it to the hospital. He had lost
too much blood.

“I can see now why they let you two work together. That was
some display of teamwork,” the Senator said. He looked like he was a proud papa
and sick to his stomach at the same time.

“I’m just glad that I could offer you some protection
Senator.”

“No need to be melodramatic, Mr. Monday. Your actions are
appreciated. You have a friend in Congress if you need one. I owe you my life.”

His sincerity touched Jake. He took the hand the Senator
proffered.

“If my hunch about what is coming next is correct, Senator,
I will need one.”

Hallie put a reassuring arm across his shoulders and
holstered her weapon. They watched as the two upper sections were cleared of
spectators by the security staff.

A sergeant came by and interviewed Jake, Hallie and the
Senator. The game continued finally and the Orioles lost again. Jake left the
ballpark close to dark wishing that the game had been a rain-out.

My Own Worst Enemy

Jake waited in the café across the street from Galbraith
Tower, sipping a caramel macchiato and nibbling on a Danish. He watched the
entrance to the tower for about an hour before he saw him. Gary pulled up in a
white Mercedes and got out. The driver was a woman Jake had never seen before.
Curious
.

Gary gathered a briefcase and began to climb the steps up to
the glass doors that led to the vaulted ceiling of Galbraith’s massive lobby
and first floor.

Jake left the newspaper on the table and made contact with
the waiter as he got up.

“I will be right back,” he explained.

He stepped out into the bright May morning. He was
practically assaulted by the noise outside. He realized yelling across the
street would be fruitless. Instead, he ran.

He caught Gary before he could grab the chrome handle.

“Gary,” Jake said.

Gary turned, his eyebrows furrowing. He was obviously in a
hurry.

When he saw Jake, his eyes widened and his frown deepened
for just a moment. Jake filed that away for later. He had an agenda here.

“Jake!  What are you doing here?”  Gary looked nervously
into the cavern that was the Galbraith lobby.

“I am here to talk to you. I figured your apartment would be
bugged. My place has been shut down. I wanted to talk to you. Can you meet me
across the street in Milo’s café in three hours?”

“What? Across the street?”  He looked at Milo’s sign
dubiously over Jake’s shoulder. He shook his head. “Jake, I can’t be seen with
you. You have a price on your head. You are radioactive, man.”

He seemed to notice a hurt look on Jake’s face. He glanced
around and his shoulders dropped.

“Come on, Jake. Be reasonable. Surely you understand. I am
just a small fish here. I cannot be seen with a shark. It will…”

“I know Gary. I need information. I will make it worth your
time.”

Gary sighed.

“I will. But not across the street. That is just too close. I
will call Constance. She will pick you up in an hour at the corner over there. Get
in the back seat and when she picks me up at noon, be in the back laying down.”

Jake stared for a second. His lips narrowed.  He chewed the
inside of his gum with an incisor.

“Just like that?”

Gary looked confused.

“Just like what?”

“I thought you were afraid of losing your job. I thought you
were afraid of being seen with me. Why change so quickly?”

Gary sighed again and looked down the stairs as a group of
coworkers made their way up the stairs. Some nodded. None seemed to notice Jake.
Jake continued to stare at Gary, his eyes boring holes into his wool suit.

Gary worked his lower jaw back and forth and tilted his
head.

“Okay. I am curious, alright?  I always looked up to you. I
just want to know the truth. Tons of rumors are floating around. Ever since we
botched that assignment on New Year’s Day, the entire organization has been
acting oddly. I don’t know how you survived that operation. Then Lars and
Violet disappeared around the same time you were abducted.”

“Abducted?  That is how they are spinning it?”

“That is how they are explaining it, yeah. Jake, you are a
legend here. I am not sure that you ever understood that. When you left,
someone put a hit out on you. Others have been whispering that you were here
undercover.”

Jake stood, his hands in his pockets shaking his head.

“What happened to Lars and Violet?” Jake asked.

Gary looked around nervously.

“Look, it’s not a good idea to talk about them here. We are
too visible.”

Jake smirked.

“No cameras here. I made sure of that, Gary.”

“Yeah. I supposed that you did. Still, I would feel safer in
my car.”

Jake narrowed his eyes.

“When did you start driving around in a bullet-proof,
sound-proof car with a female model for a driver?”

It was Gary’s turn to smirk.

“I will explain that when we meet. See you in a couple of
hours.” 

Gary turned and opened the door to the lobby. Jake watched
him walk confidently to the elevators. Something about Gary seemed different,
he decided. Gary had always seemed like a nervous techie geek. Now, he seemed
to be an experienced operator. Gary extracted a phone from his side.

Jake turned and headed back to the café. Gary was right. He
was exposed here.

∞

The car smelled new. So did the driver. She had dark hair
cropped short along her thin neck. Her jaw line was sharply defined and her
exposed collar bone and shoulders were elegant.

Driving was beneath her. Evidently, so was conversation.

Her voice was abrupt but soft. Her answers were short. The
odor of her perfume lingered in the back seat.

When he got in, he had noticed that she was armed with a
compact Beretta .40 caliber pistol strapped to her thigh over top of her tight
black slacks. A twenty gage Remington 870 youth model was in a gunlock between
the seats, pointing at the dashboard.

Jake surmised that she was as much a bodyguard as a driver. Nothing
fancy, just someone with nerves of titanium and quick reflexes. Jake figured
her for a professional with simple tastes. The shotgun was his big tip off. Most
amateurs would think that a twenty gage was underpowered. It packed as much
power as a forty-five caliber pistol with a wider swath of damage. The lower
gage would be easier to handle, the smaller pull of the youth model would be
better suited to her small frame. Yeah, professional.

So, Gary wanted protection. Would Gary be concerned that he
would try to kill him?  Jake supposed that Gary could be that wary. Rather than
resent this distrust, Jake actually applauded it.

Jake spent the next hour riding around New York aimlessly
without explanation. Finally, he succumbed to the silence and decided to clear
his mind.

Since the incident in Washington, Kyle and Hallie felt it
best for them to lay low for a while. Initially, he had agreed. He, Hallie, and
Macy had spent a week in North Carolina soaking up the sun in a private cottage
near Myrtle Beach. Maybe “cottage” was too grubby of a word. It was a palace,
really, with tennis courts, private boardwalk, and housekeeping service. It was
all possible through Nancy Hawthorne Swane. The Hawthorne’s were old South
money:  tobacco, sugar cane, and cotton. The cottage was a gift from the family
for Jake and Hallie’s deeds.

He and Hallie had renewed their intimacy. Once he had
finally relented and allowed himself to succumb to his feelings for Hallie, it
was like a flood of memory. His counselor had suggested that familiar tactile
sensations would be the best way to regain his memories. This had been true,
but Jake had found that it went deeper than that.

While the physical act of re-experiencing Hallie’s body was
certainly enjoyable, it was secondary to the awakening of his deep love and
concern for her. He understood that his reluctance to be tempted by other women
was more than a sense of duty. His memory of his commitment to his relationship
with his wife on a subconscious level drove him to remain faithful through love
and devotion that transcended the superficial ties of duty and marriage vows.

Experiencing the physical, spiritual, and emotional undertow
that came with sleeping with Hallie again allowed him to not only unlock his
past, it gave him the confidence to imagine a different future.

The only catch with that future was that it was more
complicated than just he and Hallie. Macy was paramount to the picture as well.
Jake relished the opportunity during that week to draw closer to his daughter. He
realized quickly that she was her mother’s spitting image. She had Hallie’s
energy and self-assured charisma. She had her mother’s piercing green eyes and
luxurious chestnut hair. With a sparkle in her eyes and a mischievous grin,
Macy would skip along the boardwalk flying  a small kite or blowing bubbles on
the back porch of the cottage. She would giggle as she tried to hit a tennis
ball or stare up at the stars at night and laugh at Jake’s interpretations of
the constellations.

 Macy drew the delight of strangers as they dined, or
shopped. Hallie and Jake were complimented so many times during their stay that
it was impossible to erase the smile from their faces. But, Jake knew the week
would end and they would be faced with deciding their fate and future as a
family. Jake was resolute that they should concentrate on being a family.

This was a big decision for Jake. He had committed to serve
his country, to protect its currency and its leaders. Hallie had made the same
commitment. Yet, as they bonded again, it eroded that pledge. Jake wondered at how
they could possibly have decided to start a family when both he and Hallie had
such dangerous positions.

Hallie had reminded him that it was perhaps her fault. She
admitted that it had possibly been her subconscious need to sabotage their
careers that had led to her getting pregnant. She cried as she explained that
her greatest fear was losing him or Macy. He had held her and they had made
love again on thick white cotton sheets in the twilight to the sounds of the
beach crashing against the shore and the sharp calls of seagulls and herrings.

North Carolina had been a great retreat for them as a family
but as their time ended there, Jake was galvanized to change their lives. Hallie
had agreed to see her sister in Colorado and take Macy with her. With two
cousins her age, the distraction would be welcome. The added benefit would be
to remove them from the inevitable fallout from Jake’s plans.

They had packed and left two days ago. The parting had been
bittersweet. Hallie had hugged him for a full minute before taking the cab to
the airport. Jake consoled her. He knew what he was doing and he was positive
that the only way for them to have a normal life was to remove the threat first
and deal with the mess that was his past.

He was here to deal with it now. Gary was the key. He was
Jake’s entry into the world that was determined to crush him. Gary probably was
not even aware of it.

Jake heard a buzzing in the front seat. Constance looked
down and then half turned to look at him with cold eyes of ice.

“Get down. We will be arriving in ten minutes. You cannot be
seen,” she said in short, clipped syllables. She seemed to be familiar with
giving orders.

 
Military?
Jake wondered.

Jake did not bother to reply. He simply slipped off the seat
into the floor. His tall frame was uncomfortably wedged between the seats, his
knees raised, his arms crossed over his chest. He felt the familiar bulge of
his knife at his back.

Constance drove with more urgency then. It was strange to
feel the movement of the vehicle from his position on the floor, looking up at
the sky through the tinted windows. He felt silly.

The car stopped suddenly, Jake’s body slammed against the
seat. He gritted his teeth.

The door opened and shut. The car lurched forward, turned a
corner and then slowed.

“Jake?”

He put an elbow on the seat and lifted himself up.

“Yeah. Is it alright to come out now?” he asked.

“Don’t be testy. It is necessary,” Gary explained. He turned
in his seat.

Jake leaned forward.

“I just want some answers. I am not playing spy here, Gary.”

“Lars and Violet are rogue, Jake.”  Gary looked serious
enough.

“Rogue rogues?  Does that make them the good guys?” Jake
joked.

“There are no good guys, Jake.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic. So where are Lars and Violet now?”

“Officially, or in reality?”

“Whichever gets me to them.”

“You can’t possibly mean…”

“I just want answers, Gary. Lars can provide them. Violet
may be a problem, but I will deal with her.”

“You were right about Lars, you know?”

“About Darius?”

“No. His son. He is the connection at Darius. But he does
not just work there. He has several identities. He is listed as an executive at
several different corporations. We have a list. The connection is not a
coincidence.”

“Coincidence does not exist, Gary. Only design. So what is
the angle to Lars?  How does this lead me to him?”

“Where ever Lars has disappeared, he has money paving the
way.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know, Gary. You are
hiding something from me. I thought we were friends.”

Gary glanced at Constance. He licked his lips and his eyes
darted.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but, I believe that Lars
works for the US Government.”

“Okay. Continue,” Jake ordered.

Gary pushed his glasses back up on his face.

“Galbraith knows it and has allowed it. I think it is the
secret to how they have managed to remain intact so long. They are cooperating
with the US government at the highest levels. Some of these operations we
managed were merely black operations performed by a civilian firm.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time our government hired
mercenaries. What does this have to do with me?”

Gary stared him in the eyes.

“I don’t want to sound like I am accusing you, Jake, but I
could ask this question of you.”

Jake was not worried that Gary knew he was Secret Service. It
was inevitable that he would know at some point.

“Okay. Ask.”

“Why would the US government hire Galbraith to handle the
assassination of the president?” Gary asked.

Jake furrowed his brows and tensed his muscles. Alarms were
going off in his head and he couldn’t tell why. Constance remained still, her
driving was steady. Outside, they were slowly driving over the Manhattan Bridge.
They were surrounded by slow-moving traffic. He saw no immediate threats.

“Galbraith has hundreds of clients. What would make you
think that someone in the government would authorize such a thing?” Jake
countered.