Utopian Day (7 page)

He paused at the top of the steps as he was about to
press the doorbell. Once he did this, there was no going back. Once
he did this, he would officially be a dirty cop. He could still
turn around and walk away. He could come clean to his wife and tell
her they were about to lose the house because of his gambling
debts, and then get counseling – maybe the marriage would survive.
He couldn't bear the thought of being without Maggie and their son.
Losing the house and having to start all over again with a rental
while they slowly built up credit to buy, then trying to fund their
retirement plans....

No, not today. He shook his head from side to side.
Not when he could possibly stop the avalanche from beginning just
by finishing what he'd come to do. He was in the home stretch.
After all, it was just information, nothing more. Just words on a
piece of paper and a few pictures. He reached down and pressed the
doorbell quickly before he could think anymore about it or lost his
nerve.

It seemed like an eternity as he waited. Silas had
to fight the urge to turn, jog down the steps, and walk down the
street to escape. Then the intercom speaker came to life and a
husky man's voice spoke.

“
Who is it?”

One thing Silas could do was focus when required.
It's what made him such a good detective. He was like a bulldog
that way: once he got hold of something he never let go until he
was good and ready. When he heard the voice come over the intercom,
he pushed all the previous thoughts out of his mind. In that
moment, he committed 100% to finishing what he had come here to do.
No more debate. The decision had been made.

“
I'm Johnny D. I'm here to see Mr.
Bartonovich,” Silas said with conviction as he introduced himself
with the prearranged code name he had been given.

“
One moment please,” the voice
responded flatly. In a few moments, Silas could hear the door being
unlocked and then a stout-looking wall of muscle opened the door.
“This way,” he croaked as he motioned to the staircase, pausing
only long enough to shut and lock the door before lumbering over to
the staircase and leading Silas up the stairs.

The room to which Silas was led was at the top of
the brownstone's four stories. His guide opened the door to the
study and stood aside for Silas to enter, then closed the door
behind him as he went back down the stairs. The room was large and
had little furniture in it. There was a bar at one end of the room.
At the end of the bar stood a strikingly beautiful woman of Asian
descent with shoulder length black hair. She was tall for an Asian,
Silas thought to himself, probably about five-foot-seven. She was
dressed in closely fitted all-black clothing that a woman who
wanted to show off her figure might wear, only she looked classy
rather than catty. Judging from her eyes and something about her
demeanor, he put her age somewhere between forty and forty-five,
although many people who didn't pay attention to details the way a
cop did would have guessed about fifteen years younger than that.
She watched him like a snake with a gaze that made a slight chill
run down his spine as he walked across the oriental rug to the man
he had come to see.

The massive oak desk had four huge carved wooden
legs supporting it. The two front-facing legs had large lions’
heads carved into them at the top, with their fangs bared. The lack
of side panels on the desk gave it a cleanly efficient look. On top
of the desk was a laptop computer off to one side and a bottle of
water on a coaster. Directly in front of the desk and facing it
were two burgundy leather wing-back chairs.

Silas didn’t bother sitting down in either of the
chairs. He wanted to get in and get out. From the temperature in
the room, he guessed Mr. Bartonovich was not going to ask him to
have a long chat either. His host was turned to the side in a
leather swivel chair and talking on a wireless headset. Silas
caught the tail-end of the conversation as he waited for his
presence to be acknowledged. He was somewhat surprised by the
crisp, upper-crust slightly British sounding accent he was hearing,
which belied Mr. Bartonovich’s East European ancestry. His previous
dealings with Mr. Bartonovich had been brokered by someone else and
this was the first time he had seen or heard from his employer
directly.

“…
and I don’t really care what
your excuse is Myron. You defaulted on the loan and now it’s time
to pay the piper. I’m sending my man over to pick it up. And don’t
try to hide it because I know where you live.”

Nick Bartonovich hit the disconnect button on the
cell phone he had been holding in his hand and turned to face Silas
without breaking stride.

“
What do you have for
me?”

Silas pushed the USB drive across the desk towards
his employer. Nick picked it up, plugged it in to his laptop, and
began opening files and scanning through the contents.

“
Sit,” Nick said without any
preamble. Silas cringed inside as he sat down in one of the chairs,
his hopes of a hasty exit evaporating in the process. Nick spent
about ten minutes reviewing the documents and photos on the USB
drive before turning to address Silas again. “You are sure the
information about accessing the funds in the Cayman Islands is
accurate?”

“
That copy of the contract came
directly from one of the bank’s vice-presidents. I flew down there
myself and picked it up straight from him in his office at the
bank. If it's a fake, it came straight from the top.”

Nick smiled slightly, with his mouth but not his
eyes, while he continued to look directly at Silas. He seemed to be
considering something, and it was several seconds before he spoke
again.

“
You've done well. Consider your
debt canceled. I presume the money I gave you for the expenses
covered everything else?”

“
Yes, it did,” replied
Silas.

“
Good. Have a nice day,
Detective.”

Silas nodded his head without saying anything, stood
up, and walked out of the room. The Asian woman followed him to the
staircase and watched him exit through the front door before
returning to the office and closing the door. She crossed the room
quietly and sat down in one of the wing-back chairs without saying
anything, waiting for Nick to speak.

“
Mia, is everything in place for
the extraction?”

“
Yes, all we need is the
green-light from you and it is a go,” she replied.

“
Do it. Meet me at the airport in
two hours. We’re taking the jet to the Cayman Islands so we can
prepare for our guests.”

Mia rose silently from her chair and exited the room
without another word. Nick leaned back in his own chair and
contemplated the events that were about to unfold. He had waited
ten years for this day to come, and now that it was here he was
going to savor it like a fine wine. He smiled and relished the
thought that his old friend and business partner J.T. Thornbacker
had no idea what was about to happen to him.

Chapter Thirteen

Laura walked into the diner for breakfast and she
could feel the tension in the room. It was her first foray back
into the general population since the incident two days before. She
knew everyone must be thinking about what she had done to James and
wondering whether or not she was going to freak out again and
attack one of them. She walked to the breakfast bar and began
serving herself breakfast, trying to act as if nothing had
changed.

James was already seated at the far end of the diner
and saw Laura come in. He decided to try and act as normal as
possible, considering what had happened the last time they had
spoken. His plan was to eat and get out the door without speaking
to her at all. Better to not do anything that might trigger another
outburst, he thought to himself. Even though the implant devices
wouldn’t shock anyone while they were in the diner, there were
still forks and table knives available, and he didn’t want to take
any chances.

He tried to keep his focus on his own plate, but out
of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Laura was walking towards
him with her plate and a glass of orange juice. “Great,” he thought
to himself, “now I’m going to have orange juice and breakfast food
all over me.” Laura stopped about three feet from his table, too
close for comfort.

“
James, I have something to say to
you,” she said.

James looked up from his plate timidly.

“
O.k.,” he replied.

“
Look, I know I was out of line
the other day. I wanted to say I’m sorry and to let you know that
it won’t happen again.”

“
O.k., thanks,” James replied, not
certain how to respond.

Laura turned away from him and went to a booth
farther towards the door, where she sat down and began eating.
James realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled. The
tension in the room dropped several notches and everyone continued
eating their breakfasts.

The next day, right before the group began their
one-mile run, Laura walked by James and said matter-of-factly, “You
can run with me if you want.” Then she started jogging down the
running course. James wasn’t sure whether it was a good idea to
follow her or not, but curiosity got the better of him and he
started off after her. He came up on her right side, a respectful
distance away just to be on the safe side, and kept pace with her
for about a minute, not saying anything.

“
I was angry, you know,” she said.
“Paul dying the way he did…. It felt like… well, I was really angry
about it and I took it out on you, but it wasn’t your
fault.”

James remained silent, giving her space, not sure
what to say.

“
I just wanted you to know that we
could be friends. After all, we’re going to be stuck in here for a
long time,” she said, saying the last sentence somewhat
sarcastically.

“
Laura, I’m sorry about Paul. I
want you to know that.”

“
Thanks.”

They ran for another minute in silence. James saw
the end of the course coming up and they both began slowing down as
they neared it.

“
I would like very much for us to
be friends, Laura,” James said.

Laura smiled slightly as she turned towards her room
and went to get ready for the workday.

As nighttime fell and darkness descended on the town
of Utopia, three all-black ATVs silently approached the town’s
perimeter. They each sported a state-of-the-art electric motor that
made them virtually silent except for the sound the wheels made as
they rolled over the terrain – sounds not audible over the song of
the desert Cicada, which sounded like a symphony after dark. Each
ATV was manned by two commandos, dressed in all-black and armed for
the occasion.

The trio of ATVs stopped just outside of the town
and two of the commandos dismounted. One moved silently to the back
of the building where the night watchman kept tabs on all of the
town’s extensive video monitoring feeds. Selecting one of the
electrical wires, he took out a pair of wire cutters and cut it in
half. The other commando had positioned himself near the front
door. As soon as the power went out, he unlocked the door with a
skeleton key and entered the building.

Inside the control room, the monitors and lights
went dark and the emergency lights kicked on in the hallway. The
night watchman cursed, got up, turned on his flashlight, and began
making his way down the hall to the circuit-breaker box. As he
rounded the corner, he felt a stinging in his chest. He grabbed at
the area where the tranquilizer had penetrated his uniform
reflexively, moments before the dart’s payload took effect. The
commando at the other end of the hallway lowered the blowgun from
his lips. The watchman slumped into the wall and slid down to the
floor, his flashlight rolling down the hall noisily. The commando
silently crossed the hall, turned off the flashlight, and headed
out of the building to re-group with his team.

James was dreaming of his mother. In the dream, he
was a young boy, and he and his mother were rowing out into the
ocean in a small rowboat. She had brought the fishing poles and
they had begun fishing. Suddenly, James had a bite. He jerked the
line to set the hook and began trying to reel the catch in. As he
reeled, he saw a fin break the top of the water. He had hooked a
shark, and it looked like a big one.

“
Mom, cut the line and let’s get
out of here,” he said.

His mother looked at him and smiled, seemingly
oblivious to the shark that was fast approaching.

“
Good boy, James, you’ve got
something. Reel it on in, honey,” she said, smiling.

“
Mom, I’ve hooked a big shark and
he’s headed right for us! I’m scared! Let’s cut the line and get
out of here!”

Just as he finished his sentence, the big shark
rammed the boat and his mother fell out, into the water. She
surfaced quickly and began to laugh as if nothing was wrong.

“
Mom! Give me your
hand!”

James stretched his hand over the side of the boat
towards his mother, but he couldn’t quite reach her. She was close
enough to reach him, but she just smiled and looked at him as she
continued to tread water. Suddenly, his mother jerked to the side
and a cloud of blood began to rise around her, but still she
continued smiling.

“
Mom!” James cried as he grabbed
the oars, trying to re-position the boat closer to his mother so he
could pull her to safety.