Presidential Cleaning: A Psychological Suspense Novel (10 page)

A guard came rushing in my direction with keys dangling from his fingers. I spun around, allowing him to gain access to the cuffs. My wrists felt free but raw at the same time. The cuffs were tightly bound around them and unlike Adam, I didn’t demand that they be loosened.

I followed the President out of the room to see that Adam, Tony and Jones were all standing outside the door. Adam threw me a smile which I returned, feeling relieved that we’d gotten off scot-free. I looked at Jones to see if he’d finally come to terms with the fact that Harry Peterman would not end up being his prize. On his face was a look of calm and serenity, which told me that it was all okay. He was okay with being freed. He was okay with having someone else dish Peterman what he deserved.

We followed the corridor, going the opposite way from the one we took to get to the stone cold rooms. The President led us down a round of stairs and I knew where we were headed. I considered reminding him that I didn’t want to watch; that I needed to leave, but I didn’t. Instead, I followed in silence as we went by one armed guard after the other. And then we were there, in the underground arena that hosted the Presidential Cleaning. A big glass wall separator us from the viewers. I peeked in, observing a sight I’d seen so many times in my past. All the important faces in the crowd with the most important ones on an elevated platform only a few feet from the stage, staring and waiting for the slaughter to begin. There was an empty chair beside them, reserved for the president. Another four chairs were positioned on the stage. Each occupied by criminals who had wronged the president, or his friends, in one way or another. Criminals who no one would ever miss. Their hands were bounded to the arms of the seats with handcuffs; their arms and legs kept in place by barbed wire.

The Presidential Cleaning would have usually started in the early afternoon. However, with the distractions that we had caused, there was indeed a delay. Looking at the President of Mexico, the UN Secretary General and the other familiar faces of power who had never missed a ‘cleaning’, I could tell that they were growing both impatient and excited at the same time.

Now, I viewed things a little differently than I did back then. When I was working for the president, making trips every couple of months to locations just like the one I stood in, I didn’t have much of an opinion. I saw what was happening. I understood what was happening. But I was neither for nor against it. The crimes that the men who were chosen for the Presidential Cleaning committed were unforgivable crimes. They were crimes that shouldn’t go unpunished. When Harry Peterman took my wife, I was forced to have a personal vendetta against not only him, but also men like him. Sure, it might have been wrong that the President was fulfilling his most devilish desires by hosting a Presidential Cleaning. But to have men like Harry Peterman and Derrick Shaw locked in a jail cell and allowed to rot away in peace- it wasn’t enough. They deserved to feel the pain the nation felt when they carried out their acts and that’s just what they were in for.

‘When you’re ready,’ the President tapped me on the shoulder, ‘Lamar, will show you out.’

I looked in the direction he pointed to see a young man, in his twenties with an innocent face peering through the glass. I could tell that it was his first time witnessing something like this. It was the first time he’d had the privilege, or rather, the misfortune of becoming introduced to the President’s most well-kept secret.

‘Thanks,’ I smiled.

He shook my hand once more. ‘Remember what I said. You’re welcome here, anytime.’

Once the President had left our company and made his way to the front where he took the seat that was prepped and ready for him, I walked closer to Jones, Derrick and Adam.

‘Guys,’ I said, ‘I think I’m going to head out in a few.’

‘Did he tell you?’ Adam’s eyes lit up.

‘Tell me what?’

‘About Jones.’

I looked over at Jones whose face still bore the satisfaction that I wasn’t sure why he felt.

‘No. What about him?’

‘He’s gonna participate.’

‘In the cleaning?’ I asked stunned.

‘Yes. The president offered to go
halfsies
on Peterman.’

‘What do you mean, go halfies?’

‘He wants Jones to help him with the slaughter.’

I was dumbfounded. ‘Jones?’ I dragged his attention away from the stage.

‘Yeah.’

‘Is it true? You’re really going to participate in the
slaughter
?’

‘Presidential cleaning,’ Jones corrected me though there wasn’t much of a difference. ‘But, yes. I’m gonna be able to serve that asshole a big plate of revenge. It already feels good, just envisioning the things that I’ll be able to do to him- the pain that I’ll be able to make him feel.’

‘Well, congrats,’ I offered, not sure if this really was a situation that one should be offering congratulations in.

Jones looked at his watch. ‘I’ve got to go guys. Adam and Tony, I’ll see you guys afterwards, right?’ They both nodded. ‘Joe. You sure you don’t want to hang out a bit longer.’

‘I’ve got to get back to Lila.’

‘Understood,’ he said before making his way through the glass door and down the stage. A short while later, Adam and Tony decided to take their seats in the crowd, leaving me standing alone, gazing through the glass. A chair was pulled to the front for Jones. He suited up in gloves, protective goggles and a full-body plastic suit to prevent his clothes from being ruined during the ‘slaughter’.

‘Let the cleaning begin,’ a voice toned through the speakers. All the chattering stopped. All the faces in the audience- which consisted of approximately 40 of the most important people in the world- pointed forward. The President stood and took hold of the microphone.

‘First and foremost, I’d like to say thank you to all my lovely friends in the crowd who have come out to support the Presidential Cleaning today. I know that we had a bit of a delay and I sincerely apologize for that. However, I can assure you, that having resolved everything, we’re in for an even greater deal of fun. Outside of the villains outlined in the brochure, we’ve got an unexpected addition. This gentleman, sitting here,’ he pointed to Harry Peterman, ‘is the real mastermind behind the terrorist organization known as Gamma. His name is Harry Peterman. He’s the man who got away, until today, when some fine gentlemen decided to take matters into their own hands. I want to say a very big thank you to the members of NW45- you know who you are. It just goes to show how great the men we’ve trained are. Even when they’ve ventured into the world, having left my controls, they’re still loyal to the people they need to be loyal to.’ He flashed a smile across the crowd before continuing. ‘To start, we’re going to take care of the man responsible for our delay. I know that many like to save the best for last. But today, I think we ought to start off with a
bang
. Joining me will be Jones Thomas.’ Jones stood up. ‘He’s one of the men who brought Harry Peterman to me and I’m truly honored to be able to share this very special moment with him. Again, thank you all for coming and now, the Cleaning shall begin.’

He handed the microphone over to the commentator. He and Jones made their way to the stage. A cart containing what was usually referred to as ‘the tools of fun’ was pushed into the center of the stage. The president was the first to take his pick and decided on a small ball pein hammer as well as what looked like a handful of nails.

‘A hammer for Gamma,’ the commentator chuckled sadistically. ‘A great choice Mr. President.’

The crowd applauded.

It was now time for Jones to select his tools. In the air, he held his weapon of choice.

‘Plyers for the liars,’ the commentator laughed again.

The president turned to Jones and whispered something into his ear. Jones approached Harry Peterman, pried his mouth open and shoved a mouth gag inside before settling on his knees and getting the action started. The commentator made his way closer to Jones and Harry Peterman, positioning the microphone a short distance to the side of Peterman’s mouth. As Jones’ plyers took hold of one tooth and yanked it out, screams toned through the speakers only to be outdone by the audience cheering. Everyone was having a great time. But not me. I’d seen enough. The gore and blood no longer gave me that feeling that it once did. A part of me was happy that Jones was able to fulfill his wishes of taking Harry Peterman down- allowing him to feel a smidgen of the pain he’d caused him. At one point, I might have smiled and hoped that Jones was doing it for the both of us- that this form of revenge was also as reparation for taking Lila. However, if I were in charge of taking him out, I’d be a lot more humane. I wouldn’t need to start pulling teeth and snipping off fingers to feel like Harry Peterman got what he deserved. The only thing that mattered was that he was taken out of the world; that he wouldn’t be able to hurt innocent people any longer. But there was no reason to start ridding him of his pearly whites or splitting his tongue in two. When the president approached, placing a nail on Peterman’s hand and hammering it through his flesh and into the wooden chair, I knew it was time to make my exit.

I made my way over to Lamar, the guard who the president had told me was responsible for escorting me out of the building.

‘Hi, Lamar,’ I said, taking his attention away from the show that was going on on the other side of the glass.

‘Joe Chandler,’ he replied. ‘I take it that you’re ready to leave the building.’

‘Yeah. I ought to be getting back home now.’

‘This way,’ Lamar motioned to the left before taking a final glance at the show and walking away.

I didn’t look back. I followed Lamar down the very familiar path. Up very familiar stairs and through a very familiar metal door that opened to reveal the backend of the building.

‘Thanks,’ I said as he handed me the keys to Jones’ vehicle.

Chapter 14

‘Is she alright?’ I said to Iron who was lounged out on the sofa with a bowl of chips in front of him.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch
. He put up a lone finger, before swallowing and addressing my question. ‘She hasn’t said a word since I brought her in,’ he said, dusting cheesy crumbs from around his mouth.

‘Did you actually try to talk to her?’

‘I did but she just gave me this blank stare. I mean, maybe she just didn’t feel like talking to me. I don’t exactly have the most welcoming face.’

I chuckled. ‘Well. That’s definitely true. But I thought at least she’d want something to eat. Anyways. Thanks for, you know, helping out and all.’

‘Hold up. How comes you’re the only one who’s back.’

‘Ah. They all wanted to stay for the Presidential Cleaning.’

‘
Fuck,’
Iron smacked a hand down on his thigh. ‘So you mean to say I missed all the good bits.’

‘Jones got to participate.’

‘You’re killing me Joe. What did he take?’

‘Plyers. The president took a hammer and some nails. They’re both doing the Cleaning on Peterman.’

‘Damn. That’s pretty fucking serious. I’d pay to see that.’

I left Iron to his imagination and headed to the room where Lila was. Carefully, I pushed the door open and peeked inside before entering. Her feeble body was curled into a ball. Her back moved up and down rapidly.

‘Lila,’ I said, closing the door behind me and leaning against it with my back.

There was no answer. I stood in silence and watched as her breathing quickened. She was awake but the last thing she wanted to do was to acknowledge my presence. The thought that she- in some way- blamed me for what happened tore my heart into pieces. I watched her for a while longer before approaching the bed. When I placed my hand on her back, her body tightened. Did she fear me? Was she disgusted with me?

‘Lila,’ I whispered. ‘I’m so terribly sorry that you had to go through this. You know that the last thing in the world that I wanted to do was to put you in any form of danger. It breaks my heart to see you like this; to imagine the things that you went through in the last few weeks.’ She scooted forward on the bed, allowing my hand to drop from her back. ‘Lila,’ I continued, ‘will you just talk to me?’

Again, I placed my hand on her body. She furiously pushed it away. ‘Please don’t touch me,’ she said softly.

Her voice was just as sweet as I’d remembered it, even with the strong presence of anger that clung to ever word.

‘Let me take you home,’ I met the softness of her voice.

This seemed to push her over the top because she sprung up and stared me deep in the eyes. ‘Home?’ she replied indignantly. The skin on her cheeks was dry, perhaps from all the tears that had fallen upon them in the weeks she’d been away. Her lips were chapped and in between the creases there were bits of dried blood.

‘Yes. Let me take you home?’ I repeated calmly.

‘Home is where you feel safe. So please, Joe, tell me which home you’d like to take me to? The one where I was dragged from? The one that was so easy for those ungodly people to access? Oh no, maybe it’s that cage that I’ve been sitting in for the past few weeks. Where the fuck is home, Joe? Is it here? Is it in this room that smells like a fucking cigar factory? Or maybe in the living room with some guy who looks like he’s still wearing the frowns of those he killed. Tell me Joe, please, tell me. Because I’d really love to know where
home
is.’

I had never heard this form of anger from Lila. Sure, she’d screamed once or twice before but it was usually due to me loading the dishwasher the wrong way or forgetting to put the toilet seat down. ‘I…’ I searched hard, but failed, to find the right words to say.

‘You what, Joe? Spit it out? You want to take me
home
. So tell me where the
fuck
you consider home. Because if you’re talking about that God forsaken apartment, there is no way in hell I’m going back there.’

‘Calm down, Lila,’ I pleaded. ‘Just let me make this right. I know that this can’t be easy for you. Trust me, I know.’

‘Don’t you dare tell me to calm down,’ she landed a weak fist on my shoulder. ‘You have no idea what I’ve been through. You have no idea how it felt sitting there wondering when they’re going to kill me and wishing they would just get it over with already.’