8. ABRAHAM
AbrAHAM
MY PHONE RANG six times before it went silent, then started up again.
Switching it off, reaching for the burner I hadn’t touched since the tracker had given it to me, I tucked my work cell into the center console of the truck I’d borrowed from a bar parking lot roughly twenty miles back and pulled my cap low on my head.
At zero three hundred on the minute, I exited the rusted Tahoe pickup, tarped the truck, then started on foot toward the woodlands I’d spent the last day mapping.
The warehouse I’d been watching for months now conveniently sat lower into the brush, almost hidden from the main road, its two main access points being the woodlands to the east, and the toll road that ran into the Massachusetts border.
I’d taken the latter into the state, then switched vehicles. The tracker, who’d instructed me to refer to her as Silver, had texted to let me know she’d begun her search, but I didn’t want to rely on the woman. Competent she may have been, she was always my plan B.
I trekked the four miles, navigating via my watch until the signage warning trespassers came into view.
Removing the pocket sized scanner from the inside of my jacket, I detected the first camera.
If the warehouse owner was smart, he’d have silent sensors all over the goddamn woods—shit, I did on my own property—but I didn’t pick up any additional alarms as I slowly approached the warehouse.
I pulled my night vision goggles down and making the decision, I picked up speed.
Surprisingly, there were no silent alarms. Unsurprisingly, my device picked up cameras that seemed positioned at every point and rotated on a timer.
Once I came upon the warehouse, I’d lose the element of surprise and without oversight, all I had to rely on was my own intuition and five-year-old blueprints.
Sticking to the edges of the woodlands, minding my blind spots, I moved.
One inhale.
Two.
Three.
I drew my weapon and screwed on the suppressor as I rounded the building. In three quick movements, I aimed and fired at the door’s lock, breached the entry, and started for the key pad as the alarm sounded.
Four.
Five.
I typed in the code. The alarm shut off. Then I held my breath and waited.
Several seconds later, a weighted gait that favored one side and the laborious breathing of a man breached the silence.
He listened.
I braced.
Stepping into the foyer, arms raised as he aimed his pistol at the wall behind me, he made the mistake of not pulling the trigger.
I didn’t give his sight time to adjust.
Raising the butt of my Walther, I slammed it into his forehead. Then watched the man my wife had met six times over the past six months, slump to the floor.
“GOOD MORNING.”
My host who’d finally come to, startled awake.
He pulled at the steel-boned zip ties I’d used to bind his hands to his chair. Recognizing the eight by eight foot closet in the far southern corner of the basement floor of his warehouse, the man began to panic.
“I don’t recommend that,” I advised. “Those will tear up your skin for nothing but wasted energy. Energy you’ll need for this conversation.”
His muffled shouting caught behind the cloth I’d used to gag him, the man struggled violently against his restraints.
Circling my host, I pressed the muzzle of the suppressor against the back of his head and he stilled.
“You’ll have to forgive me. I’m normally a student of patience, but I’m on a rigid time constraint at the moment. ”
Well over six foot, warm tan skin, and solidly built, a grown man who’d likely once thought of himself as a defender, raged against his binds.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” I told him. “I’m here for information and seeing as how I respect the natural law of reciprocity, you should know I will never ask for what I’m not willing to give, so here’s how this will work.
I will be honest with you and in turn you’ll be honest with me, but before we begin, I’ll have to confirm some baseline facts. You’ve met with my wife.”
The scent of urine hit my nose. The man vigorously shook his head.
“Sunday early mornings, usually,” I continued. “Always at a hotel. Somewhere equidistant to Portsmouth and DC. Under normal circumstances, I could write you off as a mild irritation. Ask me why this is not a normal circumstance.”
His chest heaved. He stopped struggling. His anger morphed into fear.
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
Struggling to speak through the gag, the man whose real name I still didn’t know because I couldn’t run him through any database on my work servers without tipping off my boss, pleaded with his eyes. I removed his gag, knowing he wouldn’t scream.
“S-she didn’t say she was married!” he rasped.
I didn’t want to assume or unpack that statement any more than I wanted to be in this man’s home, but dissecting the origins of every comment wasn’t the priority. “Please stay on topic, Mr. Halstead.”
“W-who are you? What do you want?”
I laced my fingers together. “My name is Abraham. I’m the one who breached your property this morning and I’ve restrained you for both your safety and that of my wife, who has not been heard from for over twenty four hours.
Is there anyone you may have alerted to my presence this morning before our encounter? ”
Mr. Jonas Halstead—an alias he’d more than likely stop using after today—vigorously shook his head. “I don’t know anything about that. She was a client. I didn’t even know her name. I don’t ask them questions.”
“I believe you,” I said, sincerely. “Unfortunately, I’m going to need you to do something I know you don’t want to do and before we approach this a second time, I’d like to reiterate that you do not have a choice in the matter.
” Removing my phone, I turned it on and swiped to the screenshots I’d taken just a few hours ago before turning the screen around to show him.
“I promised you nothing but honesty and reciprocity and I haven’t lied to you.
My wife’s life is in danger. Which means I’m not quite operating from a forgiving or empathetic space at the moment.
So, here’s what I’m proposing. You make an exception and break your confidentiality to tell me the resources you’ve provided her, and I will make sure all of the teeth that belong to your son remain in his mouth. ”
An instant flash of rage gripped Mr. Halstead and he jerked against the ties.
“You think you’re the first bully to come in here and threaten me?
” he spat. “Or that that’s the first woman to come and see me just to escape an abusive piece of shit?
The fact that you found me at all tells me you know what I do, so that should give you a hint. Fuck you!”
I didn’t move. “Is that what she said?”
“I already told you, I don’t ask questions. For this very reason.”
Fuck. I’d chosen an approach and I’d chosen wrong. Doubling down wouldn’t work. At least not quickly. Switching tactics, I played a hand I hadn’t prepared and accepted the risk.
Closing the photo app, I went to my voicemail cache and played the most recent file.
“Hello husband, this is your bride speaking. I am at the grocers, and I see a huge ribeye calling your name. And when I say your name, I obviously mean my name. And you’re going to grill this for me. Tonight. You may seek repayment as you see fit. Okayy byeeee.”
“I received this voicemail forty two minutes before she disappeared,” I told him. “Up until then, we hadn’t spoken in months and save for a meeting with our divorce lawyers a few weeks prior, hadn’t been alone in the same room. What does that sound like to you?”
The man’s expression unreadable save for the slight crease in his forehead, he took his sweet fucking time as he weighed his principles against his honor. I told myself I’d give him five minutes to speak before I moved onto plan B.
With three to spare, he began to talk. I listened until he finished, then I paused the recording app on my cell.
Uncapping the syringe of the pre-measured dose of phenobarbital, I apologized to the professional forger for threatening his son, then injected the pharmaceutical into his neck.