He set off again, turning right and settling at an inconspicuous cruise.
“It’s still an awful lot of responsibility for a company whose primary function is to act as an army-for-hire,” he said.
“You don’t trust them, do you?”
“Can you blame me? I wake up from a coma to find they’ve done some kind of experiment on me…” He paused for moment, his mind focusing on his bandages, and what might lie beneath them. “…then they feed me some crazy story about the CIA being responsible for everything that’s happened to the world in the last forty-eight hours.”
Julie shifted in her seat. “Have you… have you seen the news?”
He shook his head. “Not really had time to stop and watch TV.”
“It’s just… tragic. Some of the images… entire cities reduced to dust… millions of bodies…” Her voiced started to crack with sadness, and she sniffed back tears. “People are saying this will change the world forever.”
“They’re probably right,” he replied, casually. “And I’m sure whoever’s responsible will be brought to justice.”
“President Cunningham was on TV yesterday, saying they’ve already captured the man behind it all…”
“And you believe him?”
Julie shrugged. “I know what people are saying at GlobaTech, about a conspiracy. It seems a little far-fetched to me.”
“And me. But your bosses seemed pretty convinced.”
Traffic started to slow down as they closed in on the City of Angels. Jericho sounded his horn as a van cut him off, and gestured with frustration as he narrowly avoided slamming into the back of it.
“Fucking asshole…” he muttered under his breath.
“What if they’re right, Jericho?” continued Julie. “What if the CIA really did cause all this?”
“That’s a big if…” he replied. “But if the CIA is behind this and I’m somehow involved… being used as someone’s puppet… I’ll find out who’s pulling the strings and make the bastards pay.”
That last statement finished the conversation, and they entered the Los Angeles city limits in silence. Traffic moved slowly as they passed by the Dodgers’ Stadium on the left, heading into the Chinatown district. After some searching, they found a no-name hotel overlooking a row of restaurants. They pulled up in the small parking lot at the back.
“Do you have any money?” asked Jericho, looking over at Julie.
She shook her head. “I left work in kind of a hurry,” she said, regretfully. “My bag’s still there, and my credit card’s inside it.”
“Alright, it’s not a major issue. We need to use cash anyway, so they can’t trace the transaction.”
He started the engine again and eased out of the parking lot, turning right.
“Where are we going?” Julie asked.
“To kill some time before making a withdrawal,” replied Jericho, tersely.
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA, USA
April 19th, 2017
The sun had almost completely disappeared behind the skyline, and the sound of the city’s nightlife awakening floated in through the open window, growing louder as the remaining slivers of daylight faded. They had spent the afternoon and early evening staying mobile — spending no more than an hour in any one place before moving on to the next parking lot. It might’ve been overly cautious, but Jericho didn’t want to take any chances.
He guided the sedan along the busy street, absently scanning the sidewalks as they went by, which were crowding up with people out for the evening. He wondered how many of the scantily-clad attractive women he could see were aspiring actresses; somebody’s daughter, putting herself on the line for that one big break.
He caught the eye of a particularly attractive blonde, who was teetering precariously on her six-inch heels. He rolled the sedan along slowly as the queue of traffic filtered through the intersection ahead of them. Momentarily distracted, he flashed the young blonde a smile. She reciprocated for a split second, before her gaze rested on his bandaged head. Her eyes widened and she looked away, quickly gossiping to the brunette woman she was walking with. Despite the multitude of problems Jericho was faced with, he still found himself disheartened by the girl’s superficial reaction.
Again, he moved his hand slowly up to his head, feeling the rough material beneath his fingers.
“So, how exactly are you going to get cash?” asked Julie. “You’ve been stalling all day…”
Jericho snapped back into the moment and looked over at her. She was smiling a little, which he took as a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment. He decided to ignore the fact she’d probably seen what had just happened. “The thing with places like L.A.,” he said, “is that, if you know where to look, you can lay your hands on pretty much anything… including money. You just have to wait for the right time.”
He turned left when he reached the lights ahead of them, which led them to a small, but popular district, filled with exclusive nightclubs and restaurants. In between two particular establishments, which both had a modest crowd congregated out front, was an alleyway, dimly-lit and partially-obscured by a thin mist from the air vents of the buildings either side.
“Wait here,” he said, getting out of the car. He looked up and down the street briefly, and then crossed over, casually blending himself in with the throng of people on the sidewalk. After a few moments, he discreetly stepped away and headed down the alley, which opened out into a small square a couple of hundred feet in, surrounded by tall buildings on every side, with just a narrow passage leading out the other side.
“You lost, son?” said a voice off to his right.
He turned and saw a black man, dressed in a large overcoat and loose-fitting jeans, with expensive-looking sneakers poking out the bottom, leaning against the wall off to his right. He had a baseball cap worn high, with the peak almost vertical. He was clean shaven, maybe late twenties.
Jericho glanced over his shoulder, back to the street. No one was paying any attention. He turned to face the man. “Not lost,” he replied. “Just looking.”
The man stepped closer, stopping in front of Jericho and looking him up and down. “That right? And what you looking for, big man?”
Jericho gestured to his bandage, which he knew was far from inconspicuous. “I need something for the pain,” he said, with a slight smile.
“You’re a big guy,” said the man, shrugging. “I reckon you can manage.”
“I don’t know… I’m in a lot of pain.”
The man’s eyes flicked momentarily to his right, and two more guys appeared, dressed in similar outfits. He looked back at Jericho as his friends walked slowly toward them.
“Oh, you about to be, homie,” he said. “Are you a cop?”
“Do I look like a cop?” asked Jericho.
“Yeah, you kinda do,” he replied with a humorless smile.
“Huh… really? Well, that’s a pain in the ass. I’m not, by the way. You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Tell me, do you treat all your potential customers with such prejudice and contempt?”
“Whatever, man. In my line of work, you’re guilty until proven innocent, know what I’m sayin’? Now, my boys here are gonna search you. And I hope for your sake we find cash, and nothin’ else. Otherwise, you gonna have a problem, you feel me?”