Authors: Kyle Mills
He pulled inside and pushed the button again, closing the door behin d them. It was the only entrance to his section of the building a long , low warehouse partitioned into a number of separate bays with the sam e crumbling brick that made up its exterior. This particular unit, whic h he'd purchased with cash when he'd come back from Colombia, consiste d of three windowless rooms: the concrete pad he was parked on, a smal l living area, and a bedroom furnished only with a large safe and a mattress. Other than that, there wasn't much more than a tiny bathroo m and a closet that he'd never bothered to clear of debris.
"We're home," he said, grabbing the woman's ponytail again and using i t to drag her out through the driver's side door. She didn't bother t o resist but even in the dim light being thrown off by the door opener , she looked pretty pissed off.
He stayed close behind her as they walked, holding her own knife to he r throat with one hand and using the other to open the metal door tha t led to his makeshift living room.
When they stepped through, there was a loud click in the darkness t o their right. He jerked her around to use as a shield, reaching for th e gun-belt slung across his shoulder. Before he could get the gun free , though, a tinny version of the song "Don't Worry, Be Happy" filled th e room.
Fade let out a long breath and snapped on an overhead light. Th e plastic fish that he'd purchased as a joke on himself was wrigglin g joyfully as it sang. The idea was that if he ever came back there, i t probably meant that his life was completely fucked. A pretty accurat e prediction, as it turned out.
"Would you excuse me a second?" he said as he came around the woma n and pulled the fish off the wall. He dropped it and began jumping u p and down on it, listening to the final gurgling strains of the song a s shards of plastic went skittering across the concrete floor. Despit e the superficial cuts and scrapes the plastic had inflicted on his bar e feet, he actually felt a little better.
When he looked up again, the woman was staring at him with a guarded , but still wide-eyed, expression. She was actually kind of striking , now that he took the time to notice. Probably about the same height a s he was if it weren't for the combat boots that had elevated her to a t least six feet. The black fatigues she wore were a bit formless, bu t the occasional points of contact hinted at the athleticism she'd use d to nearly tear his arm off earlier. Her longish blonde hair was a little out of place on a woman of her profession, but complemented he r slightly angular features and mildly sunburned nose. Overal l impression? Professional beach volleyball player. Or surfer. O
r mayb e "What now?" she said.
Fade considered that for a moment and then began digging through a cardboard box sitting next to the sink. Finally he came up with a rol l of duct tape.
"A thousand and one uses," he said, pointing to the only chair in th e room.
She looked down at it but didn't move.
"For now at least, I seem to have the advantage," he reminded her , swinging the tape on his index finger. She sat hesitantly and h e secured the chain of her handcuffs to the back of the chair and he r ankles to the legs being careful never to put his skull in range of on e of those boots.
Satisfied that she was sufficiently stuck, he strolled into the bedroo m and ripped open a garbage bag lying in the corner. Fortunately, he'
d had the presence of mind to put a few changes of clothes and a coupl e of pairs of shoes in it next to some now rock-hard Power Bars, a fe w boxes of Kraft mac and cheese, and some toiletries. It could b e surprisingly hard to buy clothes when you didn't have any. no shirt , no shoes, no service.
"Better," he said, walking back out fully clothed and scooting a plywood table in front of the woman. For being in such a nast y predicament, she was holding together pretty well. She seemed to b e furiously calculating behind those blue eyes, but truthfully she didn'
t have a whole lot of options to work with.
"Nice place," she said when the silence finally became to o uncomfortable for her.
He hopped up on the table. "You like it? I got it when I came back t o the States. I figured the Colombians might change their minds about m e at some point and I'd have to run. They can be kind of fickle, yo u know? In the end, though, Castel retired and I hadn't really lef t anyone alive who'd want to mess with me, so I was starting to thin k this place was a waste of money. Then you came along."
"You .. . You should turn yourself in."
She sounded a little less sure than last time she'd spoken. Th e night's events and her current situation were obviously starting t o sink in. It probably made sense to let that work for him for a bit. H
e tore a six-inch strip of tape from the roll and slapped it over he r mouth before heading back into the bedroom. The safe wasn't anythin g fancy he'd gotten it from Sam's Club but it was anchored solidly to th e brick wall behind it and was sturdy enough to discourage anyone but th e most industrious of thieves. Judging from the thick layer of dust o n it, there hadn't been any.
Fade rubbed his hands together vigorously and attacked the combinatio n dial. On the fourth try he got it and pulled back the heavy door , exposing neatly organized racks of weapons, cash, disguises, and othe r accessories for the fugitive who had everything.
First, he pulled down a shoe box full of documents held together wit h rubber bands. Each grouping had a passport, driver's license, and a t least two credit cards. The first one he pulled out had a picture o f him with a long beard and the name Mohammed Fasal. Clever before 9/11
b ut probably no longer ideal for deflecting suspicion. The second on e seemed a little more appropriate and he dropped it in a duffel alon g with the disguise he'd been wearing when the passport photo had bee n taken.
The woman in the other room seemed to be getting a bit impatient h e could hear the chair rocking back and forth as she struggled to fre e herself from it. When he peeked around the doorway she stopped.
Another ten minutes and he'd taken inventory of everything in the saf e and filled his duffel with what he'd need that day. After closing th e door and spinning the dial, he walked back out and ripped the tape of f the woman's mouth.
"Goddamnit!"
"Has anyone ever told you that you exude a lot of negative energy?"
She obviously wasn't sure how to respond to that so she just watche d silently as he hopped up on the table again.
"Let's talk."
"Why don't you take the rest of the tape off and we will."
He smirked and shook his head.
"Tough guy like you afraid of a woman?"
"I've been given good reason to be afraid of women. Besides, I'v e heard about you."
"You don't know anything about me."
"Not you specifically," Fade said, casually crossing his legs. "Bu t I'd heard that the military was training female Special Forces t o deploy in the Middle East. I figured it wasn't true because it'
s actually a good idea. A bunch of Christian army guys frisking women i n Afghanistan just doesn't make us many friends. I guess the program's a little further along than I thought."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Uh, Special Forces, the Middle East, religious dif..."
"I'm a cop!"
"Uh huh."
"Look, why don't you just tell me what you want? Then I can help you , okay? I want to keep this from getting any worse than it is."
"How could it get any worse?"
Her brow actually knitted for a moment as she considered the question.
"You could kill me."
Fade shrugged. "Worse for you, but not really either here or there t o me."
"You don't want to get in any dee "
"What's your name?"
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Karen."
"Okay, Karen. Let's cut to the chase. You want to survive and I wan t to know all about Strand. Why don't we make a trade?"
"What? I don't know any Strand."
Fade frowned deeply. "Have you not looked around? If there was an y time to start running on at the mouth this would be it."
"Look, I don't know what you think is going on "
"You don't seem stupid to me, Karen, so don't act stupid. Do you thin k Strand would risk his life to protect you?"
She fidgeted in her chair to the degree the tape would allow and stare d down at the floor, obviously unsure how to proceed. It was probably a full thirty seconds before she looked up at him again.
"Maybe you have some problems .. . Maybe some stuff you saw when yo u were in the navy messed you up. The courts take that kind of stuf f into consideration. I really can help you."
Fade couldn't help laughing. "The courts, huh?" He slid off the tabl e and grabbed her hair again, yanking her head back. "Listen to me. I d on't want to hurt you but I do want Strand and I'll do to you whateve r I have to to get him. Did I mention that I was trained i n interrogation techniques by the Israelis? So why don't you just tel l me where he works, where he lives, and how much juice he's got. The n we'll go from there."
"I don't "
He wrenched her head back far enough to cut off her air and notice d that her eyes weren't really blue. One was but the other was mor e green.
"No one's going to find you here, Karen. I can do anything I want t o you for as long as it takes. Why don't we just bypass all tha t unpleasantness and go straight to the information part."
He released her and she damn near managed to take a bite out of hi s hand as he was withdrawing it. Credit where credit was due she ha d guts.
"I don't know who you're talking about, you paranoid son of a bitch! S
o why don't you just shut up and kill me like you did my men? We bot h know you're going to anyway."
He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms over his chest.
"You should learn to control that temper, Karen. It'll get you i n trouble some day."
This was getting more complicated than he'd anticipated. The smar t move was to torture her for information, kill her, and then go cu t Hillel Strand's heart out with a spoon. But, while it really was tru e that he'd been trained by those scumbag Israelis, he'd never actuall y used any of that training. And he sure as hell wasn't going to star t now. If she called his bluff, he was more or less out of luck.
"So you're a cop?"
"Yes! I don't know who you think I am, but I swear to God I'm just a cop. We weren't looking to hurt you. Just to arrest you and give yo u your day in court."
Fade nodded thoughtfully. "I would think that a bunch of cops gettin g shot up in the Virginia countryside would be big news."
She didn't respond and he thumbed behind him at a small black and whit e TV on the floor.
"So, it stands to reason that if you're telling the truth and I turn o n my TV here, I'll be on damn near every channel."
He had to admit that she was pretty good. Her slightly perplexed shru g was perfect. No doubt her excuse when he flipped on an old episode o f Jeopardy would be equally practiced.
It took a few moments for the old television to warm up, but when i t did, Fade found himself looking at his front yard and what was left o f his house. A reporter stood in front of a barrier of police tap e speaking into a microphone.
"... appear to have walked into an ambush led by Salam al Fayed. W
e don't have any information on the warrant for al Fayed, however, ther e is speculation that he is wanted on suspicion of terrorist activitie s ..."
Fade fell over backward from his crouched position, landing on his as s as he remained glued to the screen. He'd heard sirens closing in a s he'd been driving away, but he'd just assumed that one of his neighbor s had called about the explosions.
"We do have confirmation that a number of police officers were injure d in this attack, though we don't have any particulars at this point.
What we do know, though, is that the SWAT team leader, Karen Manning , has disappeared." A photo of the woman taped to the chair behind hi m flashed on the screen. "If anyone has any information regarding he r whereabouts, the police are asking you to call immediately "
Fade snapped off the television and then withdrew his hand as thoug h he'd been burned.
"No way," he said, standing and backing up until he bumped the wal l behind him. "There's just no way .. ."
He suddenly remembered feeling a wallet in the back pocket of th e woman's fatigues and he reached through the slats of the chair for i t as she tried to squirm away.
Her driver's license was encased in plastic on one side and the nam e matched. Karen Manning. A little more digging and he came up with a business card and ID identifying her as Detective Karen Manning, a Virginia cop.
"Jesus Christ!" he shouted. "What were you doing out there, Karen?
What on earth would make you do something like that? Are you nuts?
What did you think would happen?"
"I told you," she said in a tone obviously calculated to calm him. "W
e weren't there to hurt you. We were just there to arrest you and giv e you your day in court."