Chapter 2

The following week, I did another extra shift on Tuesday, and I could almost feel how there was always someone following me. I made sure that I just did my job and did not ask any unnecessary questions, nor did I try to keep track of what was happening there around me. Close to the and of my shift, Ken came to me and asked how I was doing. I just shrugged.

“Okay, I guess. These extra shifts help a lot if I ever want to move away from that shithole I currently have.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Not much. Except the fact that you don’t want to be with the women you could take there.”

“Yeah, I know that neighborhood.”

Funny. I had never told him where I lived. Still, I decided not to notice.

“Yeah - you probably know that I need to stay under the radar?”

“George mentioned something, yes.”

“You have a problem with that?”

I did my best to look worried, and I could almost see how he was relieved. He was now sure that he held the upper hand.

“No, not at all. Hey, you need to support your buddy.”

Then he patted my back, and it was time to head back home. Maybe this would work. Maybe those agencies could work together and catch the bad guys so that nobody innocent would get hurt. Yeah, right.

Friday evening, Sheila picked me up in front of a café a few blocks from my apartment and she drove me directly to her home. Once there she first fed me - and then she just used me as her fuck toy. Once she had it figured out that I could and would eat pussy both before and after a hot session, she intended to take full use of it. Besides that, she seemed to be able to suck something back alive twice after I had been quite sure that nothing was going to happen for a while. I knew that I would sore the following day, and I was quite sure that she would not be walking straight for a while. But I had to admit that seeing a woman with a mission was something I needed right now. I didn’t even feel that guilty anymore.

Even if Sheila drove me back quite early Saturday evening I overslept my usual wake-up time on Sunday morning. I would probably have slept even longer, but the only way to really silence my burner phone was to answer it, since I didn’t dare break it.

“Okay, Greg, I’m awake now.”

“Just what are you doing out there? We have a case to close and you decide to disappear for a day.”

“I told you that I’d go out Friday evening.”

“It’s almost Sunday noon, now.”

I did not say a thing, but after a prolonged silence I could hear some giggling from the background. I guessed that Laura had been overhearing our discussion and she had been able to fill in the blanks much faster than Greg. I could still feel the sleep in my eyes and I took my time to answer him.

“Yes - and so?”

Now there was no question that Laura was listening to me and giggling, since Greg didn’t seem to take it.

“Greg, I was with a friend – okay?”

“Will, wouldn’t ... could there be some problems with this task in hand?”

I let out a little laugh, since I had to admit that the fact that I was only considered suitable as a fuck toy really hit a nerve.

“No, not really. She’s a bit older and divorced and she does not see me as a boyfriend material.”

Something in the way I said that made Laura stop giggling. Shit, I didn’t want to whine.

“Look, her cousin told her about me, and about the cover-up we created. They bought it, and it seems that the other party bought it, and now they seem to trust me because I’m supposed to be hiding.”

Greg seemed to digest my story for a moment, but it seemed to satisfy him since when he continued, he was all business.

“Will, there should be another big delivery coming next week, and the agencies will probably close this, then. You need to watch out and be careful - we cannot really warn you since they are sure that the gang is using scanners and is monitoring some of the calls. Of course, that applies only if you are working an extra shift.”

“It depends, if it’s a big delivery, they may need me to cover-up and do some real work. But I’ll promise to keep my head down.”

“Please, do that.”

After the call, I felt conflicted. I knew I should have been happy because this had been our first real case, and now it seemed that we would be able to close it. But that thought just reminded me how empty my life normally was. For a while, I wondered if I should get worried about that, but then - what could I do about it? At least I wasn’t trying to drink myself to death anymore.

Wednesday afternoon, I was once again asked to work the extra shift and I made sure that I agreed without any extra hassle - just like before. Once again, I would be working at the other end of the warehouse, far away from the loading docks and doing some stuff that made sure nothing would be late, even if the guys on the evening shift would have some extra activities. I concentrated on working, since I wanted to be sure I would not blow this thing up.

I didn’t blow it up - someone from one of those three-letter organizations did. I didn’t quite get it; those guys say and think that they’re professionals, but they should remember that those other guys are professionals, too. After all, they had been able to run their business for some time now, and nobody had even had any idea what they were doing. Anyway, even though I was wearing ear protection, I could guess that the operation did not go exactly as the officials had planned. There were two kinds of shots - loud single ones and then there were short, suppressed bursts. Besides that, there was some yelling, but I could not really see what was happening at the loading docks. But, since the last gun I heard was the suppressed one, I guessed that the bad guys were not yet out of the picture.

Almost immediately, I could see that I had guessed correctly. I soon saw four characters approaching between the shelves. Two of them had submachine guns in their hands that I had never seen before. Small, but nasty-looking guns with suppressors. The first of the guys with guns was herding Ken and another guy in front of them, while the second one looked like he was in some pain, even if I could not see any blood. I guessed that they were looking for another hostage since there was no emergency exit at this part of the warehouse. For some reason, I didn’t fancy the idea, and I didn’t have to hide my worried look. It didn’t help that the guy was pointing his gun in my direction.

“Keys ... do you have keys to that forklift?”

“Sure, but why?”

It seemed that he was not in the mood for answering questions, since he left Ken and the another guy there for his friend to guard and took a few quick steps in my direction and shoved the gun in my ribs.

“No questions, just drive it through that wall.”

That guy was certainly not an idiot. He guessed that all the doors were certainly guarded, but there was no door on this wall - and with that forklift truck you certainly could get through that wall of corrugated iron. Probably it wouldn’t be quite safe for the driver, but neither were bullets. I looked at the empty space under the shelves and then the forklift truck, and I had to agree that he really had a good chance of getting out of here. If I remembered correctly, there was a road close to the building and if they had a car waiting...

“Okay, okay, just don’t shoot.”

I could sense the guy relax a bit and that was the signal I had been waiting for. Okay, no-one in his right mind should argue with a guy with a submachine gun, but he had made a mistake by coming too close to me – and I certainly wasn’t in my right mind. Probably hadn’t been for a while.

Before he noticed, I had my own finger behind the trigger, preventing him from pulling it. It hurt my finger when he tried, but nothing happened. Something of this warned his friend and and I could see his gun raising in our direction. I made sure that the body of the first thug stayed between us when the other guy pulled the trigger.

Even if the the gun was suppressed, the sound of the burst was loud inside the warehouse. I could feel the guy’s body tremble in front of me and, for a brief moment, I cursed my own stupidity, since I had no idea how deep those bullets would penetrate. However, nothing came through, but the guy I was holding in front of me winced in pain. His discomfort allowed me to take the gun he had been holding from him. The only problem was that my now-sore finger was still on the wrong side of the trigger.

Luckily for me, the idea of shooting his own gang-mate froze the guy with the gun for a second, during which I held the guy in front of me and rushed at him. He kept on pulling the trigger and I could feel the body I was holding shudder when the bullets smashed into it. Then, there was a click when the clip became empty. I kept on holding the body with my hands, and at the end I turned him a bit aside and launched a kick.

While my life had been otherwise empty during the last year, I been almost religious with my exercises, and now, when I kicked the gang member on the side of his head, I did not hold back. I had no idea if he had another gun or knife hidden somewhere, and I had absolutely no intention of finding out. As soon as the kick hit, I was sure that he would not cause any more trouble - ever. Once his body hit the floor, it became almost all silent. The only sound was the guy that I had been using as a shield whimpering on the floor where he had fallen. I forced myself to act and force his hands above his head. I took some cable ties from my pocket and tied his hands: first together, and then to one of the shelf rails. By that time, I had noticed he had been wearing a bullet-proof vest under his shirt.

Ken and the other guy watched with their mouths open when I kicked both of the guns to the middle of the open space and ordered them to come out with their both hands in sight. Ken started to protest, but I interrupted him.

“Look, if you want to get shot by the feds just be my guest. I’m sure they are now quite pissed and quite willing to shoot anyone if you give them a reason.”

It seems that even I had severely underestimated their level of chagrin. They did not quite shoot us, but they sure knew that all the people working in this shift were gun smugglers and drug dealers. The fact that I was working an extra shift, and that I was the guy who had raised the alarm in the first place, was totally ignored. I was cuffed and driven to my solitary cell just like all the others. In a way, I was happy, because that should protect me against any further harm. But I was quite sure there was no real need to keep me there for sixteen hours - handcuffed, without any food or drink. At least there was a bowl I could use, so I did not need to wet my pants but still, my own level of displeasure was quite high when they took me for questioning.

I was put in a chair facing two grim-looking agents.

“Okay, mister, who are you hiding? Will Smith is not your real name, and your prints are not in the system. You’d better start talking, if you don’t want to spend the next twenty plus years entertaining your friend Bubba somewhere.”

I could only close my eyes and let out a deep sigh. That turned out to be a mistake, since there had been one more guy - behind me - who slapped my head and not at all gently. Holding my anger, I lifted my cuffed hands to the table.

“I suggest that you start by opening these and calling in some of your superiors or whoever Mr. Greg Older has been in contact with. Then get me some breakfast, and we’ll talk - once I’ve had my two cups of good coffee.”

The next hit to the back of my head almost made my head hit the table. When I lifted my head I partly turned to see the monkey behind me.

“One of the favors I’ll call in, is to make sure your next job will be in Alaska.”

He did not hit me this time, but he just kicked my chair from under me, before the two agents had a chance to interfere.

It was not until four hours later, when they had the guy Greg had been talking with - the warehouse manager - and Greg in a meeting room with me. While I had managed to get out of the warehouse almost without a scratch, I now carried several bruises around my body. Even with those new people there, I just refused to notice the DEA and FBI bosses until I had had my breakfast and coffee. Yes, I was pissed. Once I was finished, I remained silent and looked at the two senior agents and waited. After some uneasy waiting, they got the hint.

“Look, Mr. Hart, we’re sorry. Last evening was very stressful for all us, and some of our agents may have overreacted a bit.”

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes.

“Please stop bullshitting. The truth is, that they were running an operation you didn’t have any idea about, and you almost screwed it up last night. I’m not angry about being handled like the other guys since that was for my own protection, but I’m quite sure that a few hours would have been enough.”

Those guys didn’t even blush. I guess that one apology was enough, so I just shook my head a bit.

“That one guy goes to Alaska, I promised him.”

Now one of them looked a bit uneasy, and cleared his throat.

“His brother got shot last night. He was a touch-and-go for some time, but now it seems that he’ll make it. It was a mistake. He shouldn’t have been there questioning you. Since you weren’t acting like the other workers, they were sure that you were truly involved.”

“And just like any good thug, I incapacitated my ‘friends’, instead of escaping?”

He had no answer to that. I sighed.

“Were there others who were hurt? Some agents or workers?”

“Two other agents were wounded, but it was not anything serious. None of the workers got hurt.”

I just nodded.

“I hope you understand that the whole shift must have known about the smuggling? Maybe they didn’t know how serious it was, but they knew about it.”

Now, I turned to the the warehouse manager.

“I’m afraid that this means you need to break George’s shift, at least temporarily. You should consider compensating the guys well, since they have families, and the evening shift doesn’t suit them well. Maybe they could take turns supervising new guys.”

I could tell that the manager wasn’t at all happy about the way the simple fraud investigation had turned out, but he had to admit that the result could have been much worse, and now the company could control how the things would be handled in public. Still, I could tell it annoyed the company that they would be missing several employees and they would have to pay us quite a lot. Once he left the meeting room, the FBI boss turned to look at me.

“Now we still have the issue of that one dead gang member. Just how in the hell did an unarmed man kill a man with a submachine gun while another man had just threatened to shoot him?”

“They had guns but no training. I have been training quite a lot lately. Besides, I was quite sure that they wouldn’t have left me alive to identify them.”

Since Ken and the other worker had been too stunned to really notice what had happened, and the other gang member had so many broken ribs that he could not really be questioned - like he’d want to talk to the authorities – it was left to me to answer the questions. So, I explained to them how I remembered how things went. When I was finished, the boss was still looking at me.

“If his gun was empty why did you kill him? Couldn’t you just incapacitate him?”

I looked back at him, not really believing my ears.

“First of all, I wasn’t sure that his gun was empty. Secondly, I had no way of knowing if he had another gun or knife somewhere.”

“Both.”

I must have looked a bit stunned, since he repeated what he had just said.

“He had both. Another gun and a knife. You can consider yourself very lucky. I also had a few words with the local prosecutor and he has no interests in prosecuting you.”

After another pause, he turned to me once more.

“I wonder if you could reconsider your actions against our field agents. It wasn’t their fault that they had no information that we had you working from inside.”

I waited for a moment before I nodded and agreed not to start any actions against them. I could see from Greg, that he was quite ready to celebrate and I could understand his point of view quite well. The fact that you had two government agencies owing you favors was almost priceless.

The following day, I met George and told him almost everything. He had been very fair with me, and I felt that he deserved to know the truth - or at least a bit more of it. When I was finished, he looked a bit sour.

“So, that marriage thing of yours - it was a story, too?”

I could see his anger but I met his gaze.

“Yes - and no. I was married and we had a girl-child that wasn’t mine. I almost divorced her because of that. However, we got back together, and a few weeks later, they both got killed in an accident.”

“Shit. Will, I’m sorry...”

“No problem, George. Please, tell Sheila that I had to leave the area because of the investigation. Let’s not make things more complicated than they already are.”

“You know, she could fall for you if she heard about your real past.”

“Maybe. However, I think that we both were still recovering. Besides...”

“Yeah. She’s a bit of a material girl. But hey, you were a good worker. Take care.”

“Same to you, George. You were always fair with me.”

So, no tears, and no hard feelings. I felt grateful to Sheila because of the fun we had between the sheets, but I really couldn’t see that we would have had a future together.

The next week, back at home, we spent looking for some small office space we could lease, and since Laura made it known that she had her own work to do, Greg and I agreed that we needed to hire someone to help us with our new office. Since the economy in general, was running slowly, we could get some office space at an almost bargain price and Laura did help us find someone to help us there. Noelle was in her late twenties, pretty, witty, sexy - and most importantly - a confirmed lesbian who could verbally tear apart both Greg and me without breaking a sweat. I just loved the way she played the guys who installed the furniture in our office. Then she played me quite as nicely, as she managed to get me to buy her and her mate, Twila, dinner, once the office was ready.

Our next big project started two weeks later. Both Greg and I were there when a couple came and met us in one of the common meeting rooms provided by building where we had leased our office. Greg was his charming self, which allowed me to check out the couple a bit more closely. They were probably in their thirties and I would have guessed that she might be a few years older than him, even if the first impression might be a bit different. During my life, I had seen enough people that came from money that I could tell that she was one of them - but he wasn’t. Oh, he looked like it, and he had the right clothes, but it was all something that he had learned later in his life. Maybe. I’ve been wrong before.