Unknown Location
Beck couldn’t think of any good ways out of his predicament. After being drugged and kidnapped, he’d been locked into a chamber behind a one-way mirror in an old police station. No one had come to speak with him and he’d been left with a two-gallon container of water, some dry foodstuffs, and a bucket.
They had grabbed him in the bathroom, but he hadn’t been able to put up much of a fight. He had a raging headache and felt exhausted, probably from the alcohol. He didn’t drink much, but he remembered downing several drinks at the casino.
One of the guys who grabbed him was massive, at least, three hundred pounds of muscle. Beck didn’t think he would be able to fight his way free: the guy could snap him like a twig.
Finally, after what felt like a decade alone in the cell, the door opened. A small man walked in, thin and well built.
They stared at each other for a long minute before the man spoke. He had a thick cockney accent and spoke slowly.
“We have you in a secure location. No one knows where you are.”
Beck thought of a snarky response but changed his mind. “Okay.”
“I want you to understand how dangerous this is for you. If you refuse to help us, we will resort to violence.”
“Help you how?”
“You’re going to show us how to hack into the drone networks.”
Beck mulled the words over. “No.”
“No?”
“No, I won’t do it.”
“I don’t think you understand how—”
“I do,” Beck said. “But you’re asking me to show you how to perform a terrorist act.”
“You’ve done it before.”
“But never with bad intentions,” Beck said. “I do stupid things all the time, but never to hurt other people. You plan to hurt people. So, no, I won’t help.”
The man looked at him, sizing him up. Beck thought he would speak again, but instead, the man left, leaving him alone in the room once more.
2
Francis walked through the halls of the old Peoria police department; the walls were whitewashed, bare, and faded, with more than half of them converted to canvases by graffiti artists.
He found Victor in an old office, leaning against the desk and looking up details on his phone.
“He’s being difficult,” Francis said, stepping inside and closing the door.
“Won’t help?”
“Not willingly.”
“Fix it.”
“I will,” Francis said.
Victor looked up at him. “Fix it now.”
“I will,” he replied smoothly. “But that isn’t what’s bothering you.”
“Our deadline is being moved up.”
“Why?”
“They are doing construction on the school,” Victor replied.
Francis processed the information. “So the children will be home.”
“Yes.”
“That was never part of the plan.”
“It is now,” Victor said. “They will pay triple.”
“Then it’s about the money?”
“This is about sending a message.”
“To who?” Francis asked.
Victor hesitated. “Our job is to deliver the message.”
“If Helen finds out…”
“You think I care what Helen does or doesn’t find out?” Victor said. “She’s not even on my radar.”
“She will try to sabotage us if she knows,” Francis said.
“Then don’t let her know,” Victor said.
“She isn’t dumb.”
“No,” Victor said. “She’s too alike with her sister.”
“Want me to take care of it?”
“After,” Victor said. “We still need her until she gets into the network.”
“Then we need her to work with Beck,” Francis said. “So we need to break him.”
“He pretends he doesn’t care about anything, but he does. Everyone has something they will die for; it’s just a trick of finding where to apply pressure.”
Victor turned to face Francis, and the look in his eye sent a shiver down Francis’s spine.
“Maybe Helen was right about which man we need, after all.”
Victor walked down the hall, leaving Francis alone. After a moment, Francis followed, but when Victor went into the room with Beck, he went into the other room to watch through the one-way mirror.
Victor strode in, ignoring Beck and walking to the table. He sat down and gestured for his captive to sit across from him.
Victor drew a nine-inch blade from a hidden sheath inside his pant leg. He gently laid it on the table in front of him and sat down. He met eyes with Beck but said nothing.
A minute passed, then two, and still Victor waited in silence. Finally, Beck couldn’t resist the silence anymore.
“What’s that for? So you can cut off my fingers? No, you wouldn’t do that. I need those to type. Maybe my toes. That’s more reasonable.”
Beck tried to act tough, but his voice was high pitched and squeaky. His bravado wouldn’t hold. Victor didn’t reply, but continued to stare and wait. Another minute passed, and Francis could see Beck getting more and more uncomfortable.
“I won’t help you kill people,” Beck said.
“We aren’t asking you to kill anyone,” Victor replied.
“But you’re asking me to give you a weapon that will kill people. It’s the same thing.”
Silence again.
“We will kill your family,” Victor said finally, “but that won’t do any good. You don’t respect them. You no longer love them. You’ve been apart for too long.”
“I will mourn them,” Steven replied. “But since I’m not killing them I won’t feel guilty.”
“You would be causing their deaths.”
“I would,” Steven said. “But in doing so it would prevent other deaths.”
“The people I am asking you to kill are ones you’ve never met,” Victor said.
“At least now you are admitting that I’m killing people.”
Victor ignored him. “They are people you would never meet under normal circumstances. If you help me, I will let you live. I will let your family live. There will be no repercussions. People will die, but you will not be personally responsible.
“If on the other hand, you refuse to cooperate, I will kill Jack Wallis,” Victor continued. The response from Steven was surprise, but well-disguised. “But not until after I kill his entire family. His daughter will be first. I will tell his wife it was Jack’s failure as a man, husband, and friend.
“His wife, I will beat, forcing you and Jack to watch as she pleads for it to stop. Only after she has declared that he failed her and their family will I tie him to the ground, hang her body in the air, and slice her throat. He will watch the life leave the eyes of the woman he cherishes, and I will leave him there until she begins to rot. Then I will release him, covered with his wife’s blood, so that he can find the most suitable way to end his own life.”
Victor sat silently, hands folded on the table in front of him.
“I will do all of this because of you, and I will make sure he knows it was your fault. You will be the cause of his family’s suffering and death.”
Beck was speechless.
“This is the knife I will use,” Victor said, holding it up to the light.
Beck’s lip was trembling. “Why are you doing this?”
“That isn’t your concern.”
“Who…” Beck started to say, then let out a shuddering breath. “Who do you plan to attack?”
“A military target,” Victor said. “No civilians will be harmed.”
“You swear it?”
“I do,” Victor said. “I will be the one killing enemy combatants. Not you. The only way you will kill anyone is by doing nothing.”
Victor stood, slid the knife away, and disappeared back into the hallway. Francis waited for a second and then Victor came into his room. They stood side by side and watched through the window.
Beck was practically shaking in his seat. All of his bravado was gone. His tough guy attitude had been silenced and he looked like a broken young man.
After another minute or so, Beck slid his chair back and walked over to the glass window. Staring at the ground, he whispered, “I’ll do it.”
