I just wanted to find him.
After getting my ticket for the Downeaster to take me back up north to Exonia, I gave Felix Tinios a call. He picked it up after four rings and said, “Yeah.”
A signal. Things were not well, which was why he answered the phone the way he did.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Been better.”
“You where you said you’d be?”
“Had to go someplace else. Didn’t work out.”
“How’s the other part of the equation?”
Slight laugh. “Looking for a knife.”
“Glad to hear that.”
“Got anything for me?”
“Nope.”
“Anything you need?” he asked.
“Not at the moment.”
“Gotta go.”
He hung up. I put the cell phone back in my coat pocket, feeling cool, feeling uncomfortable. Felix had been going to take his Aunt Teresa to her winter haven in Florida after the BU shootout, and obviously the long reach of whoever was in Boston had managed to reach the Sunshine State and was nipping at Felix’s heels.
Just another signal, as if I needed one, of what I was up against.
And I had lied to Felix just now. I sure as hell needed him here, and not thousands of miles away. I needed his muscle, his street smarts, and his resources as I went up against the well-armed shadows that were protecting Curt Chesak.
Then my phone rang, and I felt sweet relief course through me.
Had to be Felix, calling me back, telling me all was well, squared away.
I dug out my phone, saw that the incoming number was blocked.
Good ol’ Felix.
I answered the phone. “So, things improving?”
Another voice answered instead. “Beats the hell out of me,” the man said. “I understand you’re looking for me.”
I literally could not believe who was on the other end of the phone.
“Lewis? It’s Curt Chesak. How’s it going?”
I had to press my phone hard against my ear because my hand suddenly started trembling. “Curt Chesak? For real?”
He laughed and I had no doubt it was him. He said, “In the flesh, my friend. In the flesh.”
“I’m not your friend.”
“Just being polite.”
“Then be a sport and, speaking of in the flesh, why don’t you stop by, have a chat? Maybe we could have a cup of coffee or something.”
Another laugh. “Lewis, sorry, that’s not going to happen.”
“So, why the call? To gloat?”
“Oh, no, no, I’m too professional to gloat. No, the reason I’m calling you is to politely ask you to stop sniffing around and asking questions.”
“Gee, you know, Curt, I sort of quit my job last week, so I have a lot of free time on my hands. And I find you so very fascinating.”
“Then you have good taste. But trust me when I say this, Lewis: keeping after me is going to end badly.”
“As badly as Detective Sergeant Woods? Or John Todd Thomas? And those other innocents shot at the power plant? Sounds like something you would do, doesn’t it. Shooting two protesters to raise a fuss.”
“Just doing my job,” he said. “Like you used to do, back at the Pentagon.”
“No comparison.”
“Oh, really? So tell me, Lewis, when you were in the bowels of the Pentagon, doing your research tasks for the higher-ups, isn’t it the truth that some of the work you did was used in targeting? Mmm? Helping those with the fingers on the triggers send a Tomahawk cruise missile to some tents in a desert, or helping certain troops go into Bolivia or Colombia to take out a village or two? How many innocents perished because of your job?”
“Still no comparison,” I said, feeling my voice rise. “I was working under the direction of lawfully selected personnel, under the direction of a legally elected government.”
Another laugh. “Perhaps I can say the very same thing.”
“Oh? Is it confession time?”
“Not hardly,” Curt said. “If I was one to blab, it would sort of kill my employment opportunities.”
“Funny you mentioned kill. That’s been on my mind for a while.”
“Oh, Lewis, please. Stop talking nonsense. Your time has passed, and I thank you for your service. It’s my time now. There are huge forces at play out there, moving around, settling scores and preparing for the next half-century. You were a pawn once, and now I’m in the same place. Doing what I can, making money, just muddling through.”
“Sounds like you have a real self-esteem issue, Curt. Leave me out of it.”
“I would love to leave you out of everything. So why not do me the favor of stopping your activities, then, and we’ll both be on our separate ways? What you’re doing is stirring up attention and notice, in lots of different circles, and that has to stop.”
“You forgot to add one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“The ‘or else.’ It’s part of the rules. You issue a request, you tell me to fulfill the request, ‘or else.’ So what’s the ‘or else’?”
“The ‘or else’ is that you won’t like the end results. Like a certain missing BU professor. Or those bodies at Falconer. Or a vegetable at the Exonia Hospital.”
My heart wasn’t racing along, it was moving glacier-slow, one heavy lump-lump at a time. “Then why the warning? Why not just take care of me and remove me from the board?”
There was quiet for a bit of time, such that I thought he had hung up. He spoke again, and his voice had a sense of concern in it. “Trust me, I’ve been under a lot of pressure from my employer… supervisor… whatever the hell you want to call them, to do just that. But you know what, Lewis? I like you. I like you bunches. When we had that conversation back in Falconer during the demonstrations, at that disgusting campground, you came in full of piss and vinegar and attitude. Before you, I had a few other news media interviews and by God, they came in with their kneepads, ready to kiss my ass or do even more. They were convinced that I was working for the poor huddled sheep out there, that I was on the cutting edge of some societal revolution. Those loons missed the 1960s and the Pentagon Papers and Watergate, and by God, here I was, to make them feel oh, so very special.”
“How did you not laugh, knowing what you knew?”
A chuckle. “Yeah, that was something. They would have croaked if they knew who I was and who was paying me. But you came along, not ready to kiss anything, and you didn’t take any of my carefully pre-planned bullshit. Nope, hell, you even lectured me on the background of Führerprinzip, of a strong leader who is infallible. God, I almost reached over and kissed you for that. The first real intelligent conversation I’d had in months. You know how hard it is to show enthusiasm when some pimply longhair who isn’t old enough to drink wants to lecture you on how algae will solve our energy problems?”
“Poor you. Almost makes me feel sorry, except for the woman and the men you killed, and what you did to my friend.”
“Can’t you just put that aside, Lewis? Show some respect? From one pawn to another? Please?”
“Tell you what,” I said, my heart rate now kicking up several notches. “I like you, Curt. You have a way with words. You know how to flatter, plead, and make me feel so special. Let’s get together, real soon, and swap war stories. What do you think?”
A cold voice. “You’re mocking me.”
“Like I said, Curt, I’m sensing a terrible self-esteem problem from you.”
“I gave you a chance. So here’s the deal. Agree to stop right now or I’ll finish my job, hurt you bad. Got it? Do you agree?”
“Take this for what it means,” I said: “Not on your life.”
And I hung up on him.
I got the shakes for a few minutes and then heard my train being called, and I hustled down to the platform and just made it, settling into a comfortable seat that had a nice view of northern Boston as we headed out. But my mind wasn’t on the view.