37. Ben
Iwoke up sitting upright in a hard chair, my chin resting on my chest. I resisted the human urge to pick up my head and scan the horizon for threats. In my line of work, that could earn a bullet between the eyes. Instead, I stayed as still as possible and ran through a series of checks.
Body: serviceable, but zip-tied at ankles and wrists. Head: a fucking wreck, blood running into the right eye, dizziness, possible concussion. No gunshot wound.
Sight: bright light on one side of the room, probably overhead, ambient light from the other side. A small window. I wasn’t underground. That was either a mistake on the part of my captors or they didn’t plan on leaving me alive long enough to make use of the advantage. From the outside light, I estimated it was nautical twilight. That meant I’d been knocked out and off the grid for nearly an hour.
Sound: hum of the overhead light, fast breathing but only from one source that wasn’t me, no traffic or outside noise. Probably somewhere remote.
The door opened. More artificial light. At least one other room. Two voices detected out there. I waited to see if the person at the door was coming for me.
“Devlin.” The voice was Howard Anson’s. And the heavy breather was Devlin. “How are you holding up? I know it’s been difficult.”
“Oh, I’m fine, Howard. Except that…”
He was not fine. His tone, pitch, and modulation all indicated he was a mess. Combined with what we’d observed yesterday, in my very unexpert opinion, I’d say he was close to a psychotic break.
“I’m not comfortable with this gun,” he finished.
Christ on toast, they’d handed a gun to a guy on the verge of a mental collapse.
“You shouldn’t have to use it.” Anson’s voice was calm, even soothing. The fucker was in total control. “He probably won’t even come to before more help arrives.”
Shit, there was a cavalry on the way, and it wasn’t mine.
“But,” Devlin’s voice cracked, “is anyone staying here with me? Taylor or Johnny?”
If Taylor Stewart was here, this would not end well for Devlin. And then it would probably end just as badly for me.
“I have important work to do, Devlin, and Taylor and Johnny are my security detail,” Anson said. “You wouldn’t want my life to be at risk because you weren’t up to the task we assigned you, would you?”
I couldn’t figure out what game they were playing with Devlin, leaving him behind and alive. After a few more words of encouragement for his devotee, Anson closed the room door. A minute later, another house door closed, then three car doors. Two different engines started, meaning they were driving away in two vehicles. I had no idea if there was a third we could use to get back to civilization. My more pressing concern was convincing Devlin to let me go. Could they have convinced him to stay out here alone to starve to death like some kind of martyr for the cause of Howard Anson?
I raised my head slowly and spoke softly. “Devlin.”
He jumped six inches and fumbled as he unhooked the shoulder strap of an AR-15 and held it. He didn’t point it at me, which was a good start. From our background research and Savannah’s accounts, Devlin wasn’t a gun person, so I didn’t know whether he could really handle that rifle or if it was just for show. But an unskilled gunman can still do damage, so I didn’t plan to test his proficiency by drawing fire.
Worse, he looked like he’d deteriorated. Last night, he’d been grizzled, gaunt, unkempt. Now he appeared to be ten times worse. I wondered when he’d last eaten or slept.
“I was hoping I’d find you,” I said, spinning the story I thought would work best. “Savannah said you might be in danger.”
He glanced at the closed door. He was definitely paranoid.
“We’re alone,” I assured him, because his brain was probably lying to him in ten different ways, and he didn’t know what to believe. “But you can check. Go ahead.” I smiled, hoping to look nonthreatening. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He stepped into the other room. He left the door open, but he moved out of my sightline. When he didn’t return right away, I started to worry.
“Dev?” I called. “Buddy?”
He came back, gun still pointed toward the floor.
“We’re alone, right?”
He nodded. “But I think there’s a problem.”
Well, there were about a hundred of them. I blinked more blood out of my eye. There was too much of it for my liking, so my head wound was in the top ten of my concerns. I hoped whatever had upset Devlin was a threat I’d already identified.
“I think it’s armed.”
Fuck me.
I had no idea what “it” was, but when followed by “armed”, whatever it was slid right into the number one spot on my problem list. “What is it, Devlin?”
“The thing Taylor was building. He said it was a dummy, but there’s a timer running.”
Fuck me sideways.
“I think you’d better show me.” I wasn’t attached to my chair, but between my head wound and my constraints, I didn’t trust my ability to stand without help. “I’m going to need you to cut my zip ties.”
He shook his head. No doubt, one of Anson’s orders had been to keep me trussed up while waiting for the additional “help,” which by now I knew was never coming. Devlin had been set up, although he didn’t seem to know it yet. I didn’t know why he’d been designated cannon fodder, and in that moment I didn’t care, because it was incumbent upon me to save both our asses.
“Devlin, listen carefully. Circumstances have changed. At least cut my ankles loose. My hands will still be behind my back, and you’ll still be holding the gun.”
Under normal circumstances, those minor issues wouldn’t matter, but my dizziness, which was becoming more frequent, meant he probably was safe from me, at least for now. Maybe his lizard brain picked up on my weakened state because he walked into the next room and returned with a small pocket knife, which he used to hack through the zip tie at my ankles. He stepped back, not willing to help me stand, but still not pointing his weapon at me, so I was taking it as a very big win.
Until I walked into the next room.
The bomb sitting on the table in the middle of the sparsely furnished cabin was no amateur contraption. I wasn’t an explosives expert, but because my previous—and, apparently, current—profession required me to be a jack of all trades, I’d disarmed some simple devices. But there was no fucking way I was taking this one apart and living to tell the tale. Worse, there were two wires leading away from it. One led to the front door. The other led to the only window in this larger room of the two-room structure.
Fuck me sideways with a rusty fork.
Now I understood why they’d left him behind. They could blow up both of us and blame him for it. I still didn’t know why I’d been chosen to join him. Might just be my lucky day.
I headed back to the other room to check the small window there. Small wasn’t the right word for it, though. More like tiny. I wasn’t getting through that. Even Devlin, down twenty pounds too many to be healthy, wouldn’t fit. Maybe a kid, say a three-year-old, could squeeze through it, but we were fresh out of those, so we were shit out of luck.
The only way we were getting out of this was by getting help to disarm the bomb or… Yeah, there was no other choice.
I took a calming breath, blinked away more blood from my eye, and waited for another dizzy spell to pass. I considered risking an attack and taking the gun off Devlin, but my original assessment that the head wound was making me slow still stood. He might have enough adrenaline to squeeze the trigger before I could get him contained. If I was lucky, it would be a kill shot, but odds were it would only render me useless. So Devlin and I were going to have to work as a team. Or at least I was going to have to work, and he was going to have to be convinced to not do anything stupid.
“Did they leave you with a cell phone?” I asked.
He hesitated. Licked his dry lips. They had, but he didn’t want to tell me. Or maybe they hadn’t, but he’d sneaked in a burner. The poor guy didn’t know who was friend and who was foe, but he had to trust me, or we’d both die. And while I’d made Savannah promise me she’d eventually recover if I ever left her for good, this was not going to be the day I put her to the test.
“Devlin, you need to listen very carefully,” I said as gently as I could. “Savannah sent me to help you. Remember the note you slipped her last night?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“You asked for her to send help. That’s why she sent me.”
I watched the emotions play across his face as he wrestled with the cognitive dissonance of it.
“But Howard said…”
I thought about Lisa, about our conversation. She’d been so willing to believe there was someone evil in the organization, as long as it wasn’t the exalted leader.
“Howard’s been tricked,” I whispered. “It’s not his fault. There are powerful forces out to get him. Devlin, they sent a mole. You know who it is, don’t you?”
His eyes were wide, but at least they were focused. He was considering it.
“Someone who showed up recently and claimed he could protect Howard,” I continued. “That’s how they work.” I could plant the seed, but Devlin’s mind needed to let it take root, or I wasn’t getting out of here alive.
“Is it Taylor?” he whispered.
Hallelujah and amen.
I nodded. “He’s dangerous. He wants to ruin everything. Savannah doesn’t want that. She wants to help you save it. We can call her right now. She’ll tell you herself. But you’ll have to free my hands and give me your phone.”
“We can? You have her number? She really wants to help?”
I nodded again. “She wants to stop Taylor. We can only do that if we disarm that bomb. And here’s the best part: Savannah’s with the people who can help us. They all want to protect Howard.” Long enough to put his ass in jail, but I didn’t say the quiet part out loud.
Devlin cut the zip tie off my wrists, then pulled out his phone and handed it to me.
I took it casually, as if our lives didn’t depend on it.