Elliot
ELLIOT
Once more, found himself in Anthony Howell’s office. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wear the tie with his suit. figured he should try to be somewhat presentable. It was all well and good to show up at the interview with his best clothes on, but if he was going to be keeping Anthony safe, he didn’t see the point in getting dressed up.
Anthony had a phone to his ear and held up a finger. “No, Greg, I understand completely. Yes, I know they’re in a bind, but until money frees itself up magically, there’s not much we can do. Uh, no, that’s a terrible idea, one we’ve argued about for a week now.”
busied himself by looking around the office while he waited for Anthony to finish his discussion. Against the far right wall was a small cabinet that looked like it housed liquor bottles. More interesting to were the pictures on the wall above the cabinet. They all included Anthony, most showing him with others holding up large checks or signs for the charity he was helping. Another showed Anthony with the mayor of Port Dale, big smiles on both men’s faces. Another showed him on a rather large boat, though couldn’t tell what kind it was.
“Look, Greg, the security guy is here. We can argue about this later, alright? Just tell them we have to search through our current funds before we can commit to anything. Yes, well, she knows we’ve got a lot on our plate right now,” Anthony continued, finally ending the call.
“Having fun?” asked, turning back to Anthony.
The man gave him a weak smile. “Let’s just say things aren’t always as smooth around here as I like to make them out to be. That was my partner, Gregory Rhyme. A friend of his who runs a charity a hundred or so miles away, out in Lane, would like our help. Problem is, with the new charity we’re getting up and running, we don’t exactly have the money to spare at the moment.”
frowned. “Would this new charity be what’s got the crosshairs on your back?”
Anthony grimaced. “I certainly hope not. It focuses on homeless youth and getting them off the streets. I don’t even want to think about what sort of person would want to kill me over that.”
knew plenty of possible candidates that could fit the bill. He’d seen it lots of times in the Middle East. The radical groups liked to get to people when they were young, use them, and abuse them, warping their minds while they were still malleable. That sort of behavior translated to the States as well. Gangs with any real caliber and brains would pluck homeless and desperate children off the street and use them to hustle drugs, weapons, and other less savory things.
“You mentioned in our meeting yesterday that an attempt had already been made on your life,” continued.
Anthony sighed, nodding his head. “Tried to shoot me in public, if you can believe it. I’d just finished an interview about the new charity when someone walked up with a gun and pulled the trigger. I’m lucky the weapon jammed, or I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you.”
“It jammed,” repeated, raising a brow.
“I’ll be the first to admit I’m no gun expert. If there’s a better term for it, I’m sure you would know. It just refused to fire,” Anthony told him, shaking his head.
A failure on a gun’s part implied it was either a terrible quality weapon or the person firing it didn’t know the first thing about gun maintenance. That lent credibility to the idea that it was someone with a grudge, especially because the attempted murder had been so public.
Anthony fiddled nervously with his phone. “The police are looking into it, but the man who tried to shoot me ran off as soon as he realized the gun wasn’t working. It’s been a week, and I’ve not heard back from the police. I honestly don’t think they’re taking it seriously, though the rumor of an arsonist around Port Dale probably isn’t helping.”
No, imagined it wouldn’t help. There had been no confirmation about whether or not there was an arsonist, but there was plenty of whispering. And even without police confirmation, most people noticed the frequency of the fires around Port Dale. If the police were trying to track down a serial arsonist, they would be a little too preoccupied to look into some random man trying to kill Howell.
“I have a security team, of course. Anyone with a business, for profit or non-profit, will want some sort of protection. But they’re not like you, who’s used to this sort of thing,” Anthony told him.
They had more or less dealt with Anthony’s reasons for ’s presence, but he knew nervous rambling when he saw it. His mind traced what he knew, ticking off things he would have to check before he felt comfortable moving forward.
“Security systems?” asked.
“My home one was recently updated, but I never thought twice about having it checked here. We’ve never had any problems in this area, let alone in the building,” Anthony admitted with a slight cringe.
“You might want to consider having the security company come in or bringing in an independent consultant to check it over,” told him, thinking of the man he’d met the night before.
Clay had been his name. Sat by himself and drawing no attention as he stared out at the waters. The man wasn’t the type to turn heads, but something about him had drawn in. He hadn’t been able to put his finger on it, as Clay hadn’t exactly been chatty, though he hadn’t actively tried to make leave either. Eventually, caught sight of something sad in the man’s brown eyes as he evaded topics about his past and smiled at ’s lame attempts to be charming.
It was a shame the man had to leave so quickly. would have wanted to know more about him.
“Do you think that will help?” Anthony asked, interrupting ’s thoughts.
nodded. “Some will even test the security systems if you let them. Then they can tell you where the problems are and how to fix them.”
Anthony fidgeted. “That sounds...a little pricey. And while I’m sure your services are worth it, you weren’t exactly cheap.”
resisted the urge to point out that it was for a particularly good reason. Not only could provide consultation on every security protocol except electronic, but he was willing to put his life on the line for the person hiring him. Personal, direct protection, both willing to kill or be killed for someone’s sake, didn’t come cheap.
“Well, that might be the case, but it’s far better than someone finding a weak point in the system and coming in to kill you when you’re on the toilet,” told him bluntly.
“What a lovely thought. I’ll have to look into some consultants. In the meantime, I’ll call the security system company and have them do their own inspection beforehand,” Anthony said, jotting a note down on a pad of paper.
nodded. “I’ll forward a list of consultants I’ve worked with. I can’t guarantee the price, but I can promise they’re very good at what they do.”
“Anything else?” Anthony asked.
“I’ll have to see your security team,” said.
Anthony stood up. “Now that I can accommodate right away.”
followed him, knowing full well there was a chance this would be the least likable part of the job. Private security forces were a mixed bag of people, no matter where he went. There were those who did their best, but their hands were tied. They didn’t mind having someone from outside come in to help. The rest were a grab bag of people who just liked the idea of having the power to bully others, those that didn’t give a flaming shit what they were supposed to do, and those who were just there for a paycheck. Each of those last sorts was the type who, for whatever reason, resented someone like coming in to take over.
Crossing the room, they entered another hallway bare of any decoration or life whatsoever. Anthony led him into a closed room, which required a number to be punched before the door opened. made a mental note to ensure he got the number if it wasn’t given to him by the end of the day. He would have also preferred an updated keycard and number code system installed. That, at least, would provide more protection than a simple combination lock or a keycard system.
He was led into a small room with a few monitors on the wall. A man sat behind the desk. The security guard was in decent shape, which was a relief to . Nothing was worse than finding the lives of others depending on someone who looked like they hadn’t even glanced at a treadmill in ten years.
“This is Darren Michel, the supervisor of the security team. I guess you would call him the head of it,” Anthony told him.
Darren swung himself out of his seat. The top of his head came to ’s chin, but the brief, insolent flash on the man’s face told just what sort of person he would be dealing with.
“I really think this is a waste of your money, Mr. Howell. We have things under control here,” Darren said.
held out his hand. “My job is to ensure Mr. Howell is safe here and out of the office.”
Darren gave him a sour look and begrudgingly took his hand. “Yeah, but here , we’ve got things covered.”
“Is it just you in here?” asked, ignoring the man’s ego.
“Me to watch the cameras.”
“And where are the rest of your team?”
“On lunch.”
’s gaze moved to the screens. “So, they’re not here.”
“No, I just said they’re on lunch,” Darren told him.
“So while your team is on lunch, you’re left to watch the building by yourself. Have you any contingency plans to deal with someone dangerous entering the building?” asked.
Darren scowled at him. “Oh c’mon, we get the occasional bum who wanders in and makes a fuss. All you have to do is chase him off. There’s not much to it. And if push comes to shove, you can always call the cops.”
turned his attention back to Anthony. “Well, isn’t that a comfort? You can rest assured that after someone has burst in and shot everyone, the cops will eventually show up.”
“Hey, fuck you. We’re doing our jobs,” Darren told him.
“And I’m doing mine.”
There was a reason he preferred to operate independently. All too often, he ran into people like Darren, whose egos were all that mattered to them. This was clearly a man who balked at the idea of his territory being stepped on without ever considering there might be a reason for it. For , there was a job, and getting it done was more important than any one person’s bruised pride.
addressed Anthony. “Right now, I have to assume that between the threat and the attempt on your life, there is someone who wants you dead. Not just attempting it once, but trying again.”
“One crazy guy and a threat doesn’t mean much,” Darren argued.
ignored him and continued. “You brought me in because you thought the threat was great enough, and it’s going to be my job to ensure that you will be safe if there is a threat. So there will have to be changes, both here and in your personal life, that you have to consider and trust me on.”
Anthony looked a little green as he nodded. “Darren, I contracted Mr. Remus for my personal safety. If he feels things aren’t up to snuff, I can promise you, he knows what he’s talking about.”
Darren said nothing, but could see the man wasn’t convinced. That was fine. had Anthony’s support, and since he was the one footing his and Darren’s paychecks, that mattered most. Even if the whole thing was a series of coincidences, would still walk away feeling just fine about his choices. And if he was wrong, it was better to be safe than sorry or dead.
“Right,” Anthony clapped his hands together. “Now that we’ve got that settled. I’m afraid I have a meeting with the Chief of Police later. He and I have a few things to discuss, and then I have a meeting with General Winter at Fort Dale.”
looked up, frowning thoughtfully. “General Winter?”
“The man in charge of the nearby fort. Fantastic man and a great help when he can spare the money for different charities. He’s also consulted me on matters, primarily the gala he likes to host yearly. Great man, but trying to find time with him is hell on wheels. Honestly, I think that new secretary of his is deliberately keeping people away,” Anthony finished with a frown.
“I’ll walk you to your car then,” said.
“I can do it,” Darren protested.
motioned to the monitors. “It’s better for someone who knows the system and how things should look to stay here and watch the feed. Not only that, but I will have to insist on going with Mr. Howell from this point forward.”
Anthony’s eyes widened. “What? But I always travel on my own, I?—”
frowned. “It’s easier to keep an eye on you if I’m with you as much as possible. We can place security around your home so you can still have your privacy, but honestly, you hired me to keep an eye on you. It’s hard to do if I’m a car behind you.”
Anthony looked as though he might protest, then deflated. “Ah, very well. Better to be safe than sorry, right?”
“Or dead,” said, echoing his earlier thoughts.
They strode out of the security room, with Anthony walking behind. They passed by the front desk, where the woman looked up and smiled at them. nodded at her, turning back to Anthony.
“You have private parking?” asked.
Anthony stared at him blankly. “Here? No, of course not. I park out front on the street.”
Of course he did. reminded himself, as he had done several times that this man had never had to face a life-or-death situation. He didn’t know what it meant to be hunted and stalked by someone who wanted him dead. Anthony had dozens of habits, much like any normal person, that would have to try to break down. And hopefully, he’d be quick enough to prevent Anthony from bringing about his own assassination in the process.
“To the street then,” said, trying to figure out an alternate arrangement for Anthony’s parking.
Anthony led him out, and ’s eyes slid across the street and around them as they approached the car. Nothing looked out of place, which considered a reasonably good sign. All indications pointed toward someone messy who wanted to kill Anthony, so he shouldn’t expect anything fancy or subtle. Yet he wasn’t so dismissive as to completely ignore the possibility that someone might decide to ramp up their attempts.
“Here we are, my baby,” Anthony said, lovingly stroking the silver sports car.
knew enough about cars to know that Anthony’s was sleek, shiny, and probably had horsepower for days. Other than that, his attention was more on the security features, including the odd lock on the door.
“Not a normal key system,” noted.
“No, it has a key system, just in case,” Anthony noted, tapping the keyhole.
eyed the spot, frowning. “Was it always scratched?”
Anthony looked down, and as soon as his eyes found the half-inch-long scratch in the paint, they widened. “When did that happen? Ugh, one of the best parts of having a mostly keyless system is you don’t have to deal with that.”
, however, looked down at the street below them. He crouched as Anthony, still grumbling to himself, unlocked and opened the door. As placed his finger on a tiny sliver on the road, he knew that if it had been a remotely windy day, he wouldn’t have seen it. As it was, he picked his finger up, and stuck on it was a sliver of silver and red paint.
“Stop,” ordered, standing up and gripping Anthony’s shoulder to pull him back.
Anthony rocked back, eyes wide. “What?”
“Get back in the building,” ordered, looking at the inside of the car.
A cursory glance told him nothing was out of place or scuffed. Anthony’s car interior was as neat as the man’s desk. It was so clean, in fact, that couldn’t begin to guess how long Anthony had owned the vehicle. The leather interior was free of scuffs or stains, the cup holder was free of dust and debris, and the carpets looked as though they were regularly vacuumed. That was, save for a few tiny black pebbles on the gray carpeting of the driver’s side.
Careful not to touch the seat or the steering wheel, wiggled his way into the space between the driver’s side door and the pedals. His breath evened out, calm and steady, as he spotted the small box on the underside of the seat. Cars might not have been his expertise, but he knew something that looked out of place. had dealt with enough explosives in his lifetime to recognize them when he saw them and how they might operate. A chill ran down his spine as he carefully pulled himself out of the car.
Glancing toward the building where Anthony was waiting impatiently, held up a hand to the man as he pulled his phone from his pocket. Giving Anthony his best reassuring smile, he dialed the emergency number. Motioning for Anthony to stay where he was, he explained to the dispatcher who he was and what he’d found in his best, most professional voice.
Anthony managed to wait a few minutes after was off the phone before approaching him again. “What is it?”
cleared his throat, looking back at the car. “You might need to put off your next appointment. It looks like there’s a bomb under the driver’s seat.”
Anthony’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open. “A...bomb? Good Lord.”
And one that wasn’t just shoddily taped together wires and chemicals either. would have to wait until the police had examined it after the bomb squad removed it, but the device looked pretty sophisticated to him.
Another thought occurred to him, and he waved Anthony back toward the safety of the building. Once he was sure the man was safe, carefully crouched down in front of the seat again with his phone in hand. Making sure to jostle nothing, he took as many photos of the device as possible. When he was done, he carefully extracted himself from the interior and looked over the pictures.
It was certainly a strange place to put the bomb. There were other places to put an explosive if you wanted to kill a person. With a few taps, he sent the pictures to one of his old squad members. Lance had been their munitions and explosives expert, and knew he’d get a quicker response from him than he would the police.
When the police arrived, he backed away to allow the men to do their work. Police officers drew him and Anthony away from the car and into the building. watched as the bomb squad arrived, suited up, and armed themselves with their kit while two officers questioned Anthony.
“And you, sir?” the taller one asked.
looked them both over for a moment. They were younger than him, probably in their mid to late twenties. The taller of the two carried himself with a bearing immediately recognized, and he wondered which branch of the military the man had served in. He had boyish good looks right down to the messy blond hair. The other had a more somber attraction, his dark eyes flitting around but always finding a way back to his partner before hurriedly looking away.
“Well, Officer…” ’s eyes moved to the name on each of their uniforms, “Edwards, it’s as Mr. Howell described. After the attempt on his life and the death threat, he brought me in for personal protection. A faint scratch on the car alerted me, so rather than allow Mr. Howell to enter the car, I looked it over and found the bomb.”
“You have experience with explosives, Mr. Remus?” the shorter of the two, Officer Andreas, asked.
shook his head. “Nothing I would put on a resume, but enough to recognize a bomb when I see one. I couldn’t tell you what the trigger was.”
“Anything else?”
frowned. “It didn’t look like a shoddily put-together bomb. Either the person who put it there has good connections, or they’ve got a decent amount of knowledge. Other than that, I’m sorry, officers, there’s not much more I can add.”
They nodded and asked a few more questions. answered them, but he was more struck by the awkwardness between the two men as they interviewed him. They tended to interrupt the beginning of each other’s questions or rephrase a question the other had asked before. wanted to say they must have been new as partners, but it seemed odd that even remotely experienced officers would be less clumsy and fumbling in their first few cases together.
“Well,” Officer Edwards said, tucking his notebook away. “It sounds like you made the right choice in hiring some protection, Mr. Howell.”
“Money well spent,” Anthony agreed, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.
“We’ll be in touch if we discover anything and hopefully keep you updated,” Edwards said as he and his partner finally walked off.
“God, you think they might actually take that death threat seriously now?” Anthony asked once they were out of earshot.
“Depends on who’s pulling the strings,” admitted, knowing that politics and wheel greasing existed in every organization.
“First, the attempt to gun me down on the street, and now a bomb? Good Lord,” Anthony muttered.
tapped his hip, where he would have normally kept his gun. Despite taking protection seriously, he didn’t like to carry the thing with him on a job unless he felt it was necessary. Looked like he was going to have to pull the locked chest out from under his bed and holster up in the future.
“You’ll need to speak with Darren. Security around here can’t continue like this. And we need to find you better parking. Make those calls to the security companies, and I think it’s best if we have someone watching your house. If you can’t provide people fast enough, I can make some calls,” told him.
“You think they’d come to my house?” Anthony asked with wide eyes.
grunted. “That bomb was carefully placed, and if my hunch is right, it wouldn’t have done more than blow you up and maybe injure someone else in the car.”
“That’s...not very comforting,” Anthony said.
“It wasn’t meant to be. Whoever wants you dead has escalated to more than just some thug they shoved money at. The person who put that bomb in your car knew what they were doing, and if I weren’t a paranoid person on the job, I wouldn’t have thought twice about that scratch on your car. Whoever tried to kill you this time wanted you and you alone dead, and they were meticulous about it. We’re going to have to be careful from here on out.”
“I’ll...make the calls,” Anthony said, looking ill as he walked back toward his office.
watched the police for a moment, curious about what they would discover upon inspecting the explosive. The attempted murderer had specifically set the bomb to blow in the car, with just enough explosive to take out Anthony. It meant they didn’t want collateral damage, but it also meant they were much more skilled and patient than some gang enforcer.
All in all, not that great a comfort.