Precipice (5 page)

Dr. Arthur Adair, or simply Artie, sat without saying anything. Yet, Will’s words spilled freely as he described his peril and why he showed up unannounced after all these years, at this hour, looking like he’d been attacked by a wild dog. Not saying a word and only moving to sip from his mug of coffee, Artie merely listened.

A student of Behavior Analysis, Adair paid less attention to the words escaping Will’s mouth in hasty fashion and focused on his mannerisms, appearance, body language and facial expressions.

Though not a psychologist by training, he was convinced a basic understanding of the mind went a long way in any profession. In recent years, after his wife passed and his daughter moved away to start a family of her own, his skill faded with the lack of human interaction in his life, but he was happy to note he still retained a fair amount.

His eyes wandered over Will’s distraught face. Wrinkles had developed around the young man’s eyes and stress marks lined his cheeks and forehead. Arthur’s gaze was drawn to the graying hair, once a dark reddish-brown, which aged his appearance.

Adair’s eyes then drifted over the rest of the body. The torn clothing revealed dozens of fresh cuts and bruises that needed treatment, especially one large gash near his knee.

Will’s fidgeting was constant. He exhibited classic symptoms of stress and anxiety. Though many symptoms are chronic, this particular fidgeting indicated a more pronounced stress of a current or recent trouble. Other symptoms were also evident, as he exhibited a periodic massaging of his neck and upper back, indicating pain. This was indicative of long term stress, undoubtedly caused by the sudden loss of his wife, as well as struggles at work, and other stressors that extended far into his youth.

Will reached a pause in his long rambling story and the doctor sat for several seconds without saying a word, watching his visitor. Then, he struggled to his feet with the use of his favorite snakehead cane, and turned around, heading for the kitchen. “Would you like more coffee?” Artie asked, despite recognizing the mug had yet to be touched.

“—what?” The question jolted Will out of his story. He reached for the mug on the table and finally took his first sip. “No—no thank you,” he stuttered. “Were you listening? Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. My being here is putting us both in danger. I should go.” He stood and hurried toward the front door.

“Now hold on a second, son.”

Will paused. Arthur poured himself another cup and returned to the living room. “I think I can help you, if only with a little understanding. But first, let me get you cleaned up. Those cuts will get infected if they aren’t washed properly. Follow me.” The doctor ambled past Will and down the hallway, waving for him to follow.

Will hesitated, unsure how much trust and confidence to place in his old friend. After all, their last conversation took place many years ago, at the wedding. A lot had happened since then. Those were happier times.

“Hurry up! It’s not like you have much time.” Artie’s voice boomed down the hallway and Will startled at the sudden volume.

It was surely a sad realization, but Arthur knew Will had no one else to whom he could turn. Sighing, the young man limped after the old family friend deeper into the house.

***

“I just don’t understand it. My father, the one I knew, would never be involved in something like that.”

Artie washed, disinfected, and bandaged Will’s injuries as best he could.

“You must understand, dear boy, it didn’t start out that way.” Artie had known Will’s parents for years and remained one of their closest friends until the day William Sr. died. “William and I didn’t see eye to eye on much, from politics to religion, but he was a good man. Not blameless—none of us are—but decent and honorable. Both of your parents were. You mother was a wonderful and kind woman who took great care of you…I was sad to see her pass.”

He paused, choosing his words carefully. “William was a true idealist. He may have been misguided, but he saw this as a means to a better end and believed their work was justified. But eventually reality caught up to his idyllic vision and he recognized it for what it truly was.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ll make it quick, but I must start from the beginning,” he sighed. Artie stood, ambled into the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water. “Many years ago, a man by the name of Samuel Lee arrived at the office. As you know, your father was quite well-off, one of the wealthiest in the country, certainly in the area. This man, Lee, brought a proposal to him, in the hope William would choose to donate to his organization. They claimed to be a consortium fighting for and promoting peace. They dispatched representatives around the globe to speak to various governments about disarming. Their lobbyists in Washington battled congressmen to stop the sale of guns. They were a tad extreme, but seemed committed to their work and so William, a peace-loving man, saw no reason not to provide financial backing for this disarmament campaign. He began making modest quarterly donations. And for two years, everything seemed legitimate.”

For the next half hour, Arthur spun a fantastic story of rumors, theft, deceit, illegal and illicit operations, cover companies, and ultimately arms dealings. Will’s father had been sucked into this world, inch by inch.

Once the true nature of the company surfaced, however, he’d tried to get out. His reputation was on the line. If others discovered he supported arms deals in foreign countries, even unknowingly, his career was as good as dead, his life over. Combined with the group’s veiled threats aimed at his wife and son, William was forced to stay involved.

“So he did try to get out?”

“Yes, he hated it. But he cared too much about you and your mother. And ultimately, he cared too much about his reputation. They guaranteed his safety and his privacy as long as he kept supplying them with cash.”

“Couldn’t he report them?”

“The scheme was too well planned. The only company men William dealt with were so far removed from the illegal activities, no legal allegations would ever stick in court. Everything was managed through shell companies, mostly off shore. Their dirty money was whitewashed in these phony businesses to appear legit. You must understand…these men weren’t stupid. They weaseled their way into the lives of corporations worldwide and countless more families, including your friend Zachary’s, in fact.”

“I knew he was involved as well.” Will swallowed hard, his face ashen. “He tried to escape and paid with his life.”

“That he did, God rest his soul.”

“I received a call the day I turned eighteen and took control of the company. They wanted to make sure this ‘arrangement’ would continue.”

“And what did you say?”

“I didn’t know any better. I had no idea what this group was, and to be honest, I wasn’t concerned with the company’s finances. I was naïve, not a real businessman. I never wanted to be one, but I trusted my father, so I said ‘sure’ and left it at that. The finances weren’t my problem. I hired people to deal with that for me. It wasn’t until six years later that I began to pay closer attention.”

Will’s voice cracked as the tears he’d been holding back started to seep out. Artie stood and disappeared into another room. A minute later, he returned holding a box of tissues.

“Thanks,” Will mumbled, taking a handful and using them to blow his nose and wipe away the tears.

“You’re very welcome, son. You don’t have to continue. I can guess the rest.”

Will blew his nose loudly. “It’s okay. I need to say it.” Sniffling, he continued. “I didn’t believe their threats, and I called their bluff. I thought I was untouchable.”

“I -” Another pause. The tears flowed freely now. “I made a mistake and Allie paid for it. And now they’re after me too.”

“How do you know?”

“One showed up at my house yesterday. That’s what happened with Zach. I bolted as soon as I could get away.”

“What about Miles? You still have him, right?”

Will gasped for the breath to form an answer. “I---don’t know…” He hadn’t considered Miles during his frantic escape. “What if they…killed him?”

“I’m sure he’s fine. Let’s get you calmed down and then we’ll figure something out. I might have an idea.” Artie plucked the used tissues from Will’s hand and dropped them in the trash. This was why Will had always admired the man. He wasn’t like the other businessmen, ruthless and self-centered. He was the only truly religious influence in Will’s youth—Adair was a devout Christian—with a kind bone or two in his body and a soft spot for his best friend’s son. Maybe he’d be able to help after all.

“We’ll need to hurry though. It won’t be too long before they think to look for you here.”

“There we go. You’re all set now.” Artie stood back and eyeballed the man standing before him. Will caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass door of a cabinet. He was unrecognizable. Cleaned up, in fresh clothes, and with his trademark long hair shorn to the scalp, he looked like a brand new man.

“There’s a man one town over, in Red Hill. He’ll make you disappear. New name, ID, everything. Just tell him Arthur sent you.” Artie handed Will a small scrap of paper with a single name and address as they hurried down the hallway to the front door. It was vital he get moving again. He had already spent longer here than he’d intended.

“Isn’t that…illegal?” Will worried about crossing to the wrong side of the law again.

“It is,” Artie grimaced. “And that means it’s a less than ideal solution. I wish we could avoid it, but my chief priority is keeping you safe. We’ll deal with the rest after you’re out of harm’s way.”

“How do you know him?”

“Back from my army days. I haven’t spoken to him in a long time, but I’d trust him with my life.” His confidence was reassuring.

“Thank you, truly. For everything.”

“Of course, Will. Anything.”

“I’m so sorry for putting you in this danger. If I can ever do anything for you…”

“Not to worry. You’re ol’ William’s son. I’d never turn away the son of an old friend and neither would Eddie.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small roll of bills. “Here, this should be enough to get you to his house and cover any expenses there.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Nonsense. You obviously don’t have any money on you, and I’m sure they’re already watching your bank accounts. You need a little cash to get by until the situation cools down a bit.”

“I don’t know what to say…” Will trailed off. The generosity of this man humbled him. He held several hundred dollars rolled into a ball in his hand. As he tucked it into the inside pocket of his coat, he made a mental note to find a way to repay this man.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Artie opened a small drawer in a nearby table and fiddled around inside the compartment. “Here, take this too.”

He handed Will a small, crudely carved wooden cross. It was set on a black string, forming a necklace. “What is it?”

“Something I picked up years ago in Israel. It’s real olive wood, from Bethlehem,” he explained. “I know it’s just a necklace, but take it with you anyway. Maybe it’ll be a reminder of what’s truly important and help you find comfort. Just remember…no matter how lost you may feel, you’re never,
ever
alone. God is always with you.” He paused before quoting a Psalm, “He’s our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.”

“Thanks, Artie.” Will gently slipped the corded cross around his neck. On occasion, Allie had persuaded him to come to church with her over the years, but he never felt particularly religious—not since he was a child—and certainly not since her death. Still, he appreciated the gesture.

Belief in Jesus was an integral part of Artie’s life and Will respected that about him. Besides, he could use all the help he could get. If Jesus decided to chip in some assistance…well, he just might reconsider the whole faith thing. “If I make it through this, I promise I’ll pay you back…for everything.”

“I know you will. Just get out of here before they find you.” Artie waved a hand, gesturing toward the door. “Oh, and Will? When this is all over and you’re safe again, I expect you to come clean to the authorities. Hiding is only a temporary solution. It may have been accidental—and I’m sure they’ll understand—but funding arms dealers is still illegal. You need to own your mistakes. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Yes, sir,” Will smiled at the directive. Artie’s faith would never allow him to send Will out the door without some sort of lesson. “Thank you…”

“And then you’re coming with me to church too. We need to work on filling that hole in your heart.” He smiled. “Now go!” Artie directed Will with a hand on his shoulder; he was nearly shoving him now.

Glancing back one last time, he gave Artie a nod, and took off at a light jog toward the morning shadows along the edge of the road. The sun, peeking over the treetops, beat down on the dew-laden grass, evaporating the moisture as its rays crept across the ground.

Arthur Adair remained in the doorway for another minute, watching Will run off until he disappeared into the shadows. Frowning, he slowly shut the door behind him. There was going to be no more sleep this morning, so he grabbed his Bible and sat down to read. As he did, he whispered a quick prayer.

“Jesus, watch over that boy…Protect him, keep him safe. Reveal yourself to him so that he might know Your love and Your might. Lord, please help him.”

***

Dominic and Shannon arrived at their stakeout early the next morning, armed with a box of donuts and some gas station coffee from a local pump. They hoped the artificial sugar and caffeine would keep them awake and alert until their bodies’ natural clocks kicked in. The streets were empty as they pulled into their space down the street from the target location.

One lone car sat in the alley next to the café—probably belonging to the owner, inside preparing to open for the day. The rest of the street appeared dead.

The sun still hung low enough in the eastern sky to create a reddish glow on the horizon, but that wouldn’t last long. Soon it would rise above the buildings, its heat radiating down on the bustling street, with no clouds in the forecast to intercept and dampen its intense rays.

“Hey Shannon. Do you mind if I ask a bit of a personal question?” Dominic disrupted the silence. He figured being trapped together in a car for the next few hours was as good a time as any to get to know his partner better. At least she wasn’t going to be able to escape this time.

“Yes, I do.” Her curt reply and dark eyes cautioned him to back off, but he chose to ignore the flashing warning sign and forge ahead. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to crack through her outer wall of defense and begin to build a genuine relationship.

“Why did you choose to join this department?”

Shannon turned and glared at him. She paused, as if debating whether or not to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Finally, she pursed her lips and took a deep breath. “To make the world a safer place.”

Dominic chuckled aloud. “That’s an answer you give your interviewer when you apply for the job. What’s the real reason?” Shannon turned away and gave no response. He waited a minute and then forged onward. “I mean, I only joined because of my father. It was expected I’d follow him into the business. No one asked what I wanted to do with my life. I never really had a choice.”

He paused to gauge her reaction. Still no movement. “Don’t get me wrong…I love what I do. And it’s grown on me since that first day. But I still would’ve appreciated a choice. Who knows where I’d have landed if not for ‘dad’s legacy’ at SISA? I could be anything. Doctor, lawyer, businessman, maybe even a computer programmer for a software firm. Instead, I ended up here, doing intel for the government…all because of genetics and parentage.”

He glanced over at Shannon again, but she stared out the window, ignoring him. Frustrated, he turned away. Dropping his shoulders with a sigh, he shrugged and took a big bite out of one of the donuts. Cream-filled, his favorite. He decided to abandon the subject for now and focus on the mission. If she didn’t want to talk, he couldn’t make her and the last thing he wanted was to push her away.

He let his eyes wander down the street to Sasori again. Still deserted. They parked far enough away to not arouse suspicions, and used binoculars for most of their observation. No one knew of their presence, but you could never be too careful and in a case of this magnitude, they took every possible precaution.

Two more hours passed before either uttered a word. In that time, there had been zero activity at Sasori, though foot traffic on the street had intensified as the sun rose higher in the sky.

The first sign of any life was the appearance of the same elderly man from the previous day. He showed up out of nowhere and sat in the same location, near the café’s entrance. For the moment, he sat, watching the passing pedestrians, but a stack of papers and a cup of coffee on the small table kept him busy. Clad in a similar Hawaiian shirt and large, dark sunglasses, but the top of his head remained bare today.

“I’m gonna move in for a closer look, go get a drink or snack from that café. Maybe I’ll catch a glimpse of those papers.” Dominic moved to exit the car, but Shannon grabbed his arm. “Stop. It’s too dangerous. You were Amadi’s friend. You two worked cases together. I’m sure they’d recognize you.”

“Oh come on. Nothing’s gonna happen and we don’t know what’s on those papers. They might be important. Besides, I’m thirsty. I want a coke.”

“Absolutely not. Too risky.”

“We can’t just sit here all day. We need some action.”

“Fine. I’ll go then. We can’t risk them recognizing you.” She put down her puzzle and binoculars before opening the door. Stepping out of the car, she paused to examine herself in its mirrored rear window. “You stay here. Keep an eye on things.” She tapped her ear, indicating the hidden listening device there. “If you see anything suspicious, let me know.”

“Shannon, you don’t need to do this. You were right. It’s risky.” His tune changed now that the tables had turned.

“Don’t be an idiot. It’s only risky for you. They don’t know me. I’ll be right back with your drink.”

“Be careful,” Dominic called out, but Shannon didn’t acknowledge him, already focused on the task at hand. She turned away and closed the door. Pausing to adjust her sunglasses, she spun on her heel and sauntered down the street.