Richard Doetsch - Half-Past Dawn

“We need to see him,” Joy said.

Nolan looked between the two. “I’ve got no problem with you seeing him. He’s a good man, as far as I’m concerned. Of course, getting past Tweedledum and Tweedledee may prove difficult.”

“Who else from the feds is up here?”

“Tierney, deputy director of the New York office. He commandeered an office down the hall, haven’t seen him in a while. I’m sure he’ll come blustering through shortly.”

“Let me ask, what kind of security you got on these rooms?”

Nolan’s eyes filled with concern. “Please tell me you’re not thinking of-”

“Nolan, relax. Just tell me.” Frank had a way about him; he was trusted and used that faith to bend people to his way of thinking. “I just need to know. You know I wouldn’t do anything stupid, particularly with Joy here.”

“The nut rooms are for nuts-nothing in there where you can hurt yourself, no long wires, cords, phones, pretty much free of everything except a bed and a bolted-down table. The doors are keylocked from the outside. No lock access on the inside, though there is a door handle. The room Keeler is in, five-oh-four, fits the bill perfectly.

“Has he had any visitors, family, an attorney?”

“No.” Nolan shook his head. “I don’t think anyone really knows he’s here. He is just anonymous patient nine-five-three-oh with no one permitted access.

“Well, I’m his friend, and I’m going to see him. Where’s this nurse?”

Nolan picked up his phone, spoke quickly, and hung up. “She’ll be right out. You’re going to cause a problem, aren’t you?”

“Nolan, I will not be breaking any laws, I promise you. But imagine if your best friend was stuck in a mental ward. Would you want to get to the bottom of it or just let him slip away into the system?”

“May I help you?”

Frank turned to see the blond nurse behind him

“I’m Susan Meeks.”

“Sue, these two are here to see Mr. Keeler.”

“He’s not to have any visitors-”

“So the only people who can have contact with him are the FBI and their doctors? Do you work for the FBI or the city of New York?”

“The city.”

“Who gave you the order not to let him see anyone?”

“Mr. Tierney.”

“Do you work for Mr. Tierney?”

“No.”

“Good, because Jack Keeler, as you know, is the DA for the city of New York. He was thought to have been killed this morning along with his wife, who is either missing or dead. He is being denied counsel, contact with his family, and all of his rights. I am his closest friend, and this here”-he pointed to Joy-“is his secretary. We are here to see him, and we will see him now unless you want to have a much larger problem that will be resolved by a judge.”

Meeks looked at Nolan.

“Frank, she’s good people. Lose the bluster.” Nolan turned to Susan. “He’s just upset. He’s doing the right thing. You can let him see Mr. Keeler.”

Susan nodded and led Frank and Joy to room 504 just down the hall.

“You know he’s very sick?” Susan said quietly.

Frank and Joy stared at her, confused.

“What kind of sick?” Joy asked.

Joy looked at them a moment. “You said you were close friends of his?”

“What kind of sick?” Frank asked, his voice stern. “We’re family. What kind of sick?”

Meeks inhaled, pausing. “He’s dying. Cancer.” Susan paused. “If you’re his friends, you should know that, because his file says he’s not dealing with it, nor has he told his wife.”

Joy looked away, trying to hold back her compounding emotions. Frank remained stoic, but the shock was visible in his eyes.

They arrived at the door to Jack’s room. Two FBI agents stood on opposite sides.

“Can we help you?” the first agent said.

“And you are?”

“Special Agent Matt Crews,” the taller agent said.

“Have you notified Jack Keeler’s family of his presence here? Have you notified anyone? Has he spoken to an attorney?”

“You need to speak to Director Tierney-”

“No, we are his family, and we are going in to see him.”

“I can’t permit that.”

“Has he been charged with a crime?”

“No.”

“Are you holding him against his will, then?”

“You need to speak to Deputy Director Tierney.”

“I don’t give a shit if you come in there with me, but I’m going to speak to the DA.” Frank nodded to the nurse, who slipped the key into the door and opened it.

Crews stepped in her way.

“You,” Frank said to Crews, “come in with me. And you,” he said to the other agent, “you go get your boss. Bring him in here to speak to me. You guys have crossed the line. You have denied this man his lawful rights, and there will be hell to pay.”

The short agent hustled off down the hall as Frank and Crews stepped into the room. Frank turned to Joy. “Get the car. If I’m not down in fifteen, go home, because I won’t be leaving here for a long time.” And he closed the door.

“Hey, Jack,” Frank said, seeing his friend bound to the bed, his eyes red and tired.

“Frank.”

“They say you’re nuts.” Frank smiled.

“I think I am.”

“Well, I’m glad you finally admitted it. Now, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

Jack looked at him. “Yeah, but first, can you do me a favor and loosen my wrists?”

“Sure, just give me a second.”

Frank spun around, his gun drawn and aimed in Crews’s face. “Could you please kneel down?”

“They’re going to be here any second,” Crews said as he complied, putting his hands on top of his head.

“Which is why we have no time to waste.” Frank pulled out his first set of handcuffs and slapped a cuff on Crews’s right wrist. He pulled him to the other side of the bed, laid him on the floor, threaded the cuff around the bed leg, and slapped the other cuff around his left wrist. He pulled a handful of tissue from the side table and stuffed it into the agent’s mouth.

“Now, about that favor.” Frank nodded as he tore back the Velcro straps from Jack’s arms and released the strap around his chest. Jack sat up and quickly climbed out of the bed.

Without a word, he tore the layers of white bandages from his left forearm.

And he felt his heart fill with hope.

• • •

The door exploded open, and Tierney and the shorter agent, Philippe, charged in to find Jack out of the bed and standing in the corner. Philippe drew his gun as the door slammed closed behind him, but it was too late. Frank’s pistol was pressed against the back of his head.

“Either of you make a sound, he’s done,” Frank said, thwacking the agent in the back of the head with his pistol.

“What the hell, Frank?” Tierney yelled.

“What the hell, Gene?” Frank shot back. “You’ve got Keeler strapped to a bed, without counsel, family, anyone notified?”

Frank took his second set of cuffs and secured Philippe’s hands behind his back, threading the cuffs through the leg of the bed, where he was awkwardly crouched.

Frank turned his gun on Tierney and motioned him to the bed. “Get your ass in bed.”

Tierney glared at him. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I have every idea what I’m doing. Now, lay the fuck down.”

Tierney complied; Jack strapped him to the bed.

“You want to tell me what’s really going on?” Jack asked as he leaned over Tierney.

“You’re insane.” Tierney struggled against his bindings.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Where is Cristos holding my wife?”

“Your wife is dead-”

Jack drew back his fist and pile-drived Tierney in the jaw. “Don’t you say that. I know she’s alive.”