M Sellars - The End Of Desire

After about a minute, I said, “I take it we aren’t getting out.”

“Nope. Not yet, anyway,” he replied then glanced over his shoulder and said, “Felicity, hand me that bag that’s in the seat next to ya’.”

My wife felt around in the dark and then passed a paper bag forward. I twisted in my seat and took it from her then handed it to Ben.

“Dinner?” I asked with a note of sarcasm, as he took it.

He opened the top of the bag then pulled out a handheld walkie-talkie and switched it on.

“No. It’s stuff,” he grunted as he ramped up the volume into the audible range then started clicking through the preset channels.

“…ear so far,” a familiar female voice crackled from the speaker. “How’s my signal?”

He stopped and listened intently.

“Reading you loud and clear,” a male voice replied.

“Okay, I’m approaching the entrance,” Constance’s voice came back across the air.

“Lawson has a visual on you,” the man told her.

Ben upped the volume on the walkie-talkie a bit more then laid it on the console between us.

“Okay, I see you,” the man responded a few seconds later. “Washburn will pick you up once you’re inside. He’ll hand you off to Frye at the Bayou Bullfrog display.”

“Good. Any sign of her yet?”

“Negative.”

The radio crackled with a burst of static then fell silent for the moment. I looked over at Ben who had directed his stare back out the windshield.

“Where did you get that?” I asked.

“It’s police stuff,” he replied.

“That isn’t your regular radio, Ben.”

“I got a new one.”

“In a brown paper bag?”

“Recycled packaging,” he returned.

“That’s not police stuff. It’s FBI stuff,” I said.

“Real cops got ‘em too,” he said, verbally hinting at his selective lack of respect for the federal agency.

“Yeah… Why am I not buying that?”

He gave me a half shrug but didn’t avert his gaze from the entrance. “Hey, she wasn’t gonna be usin’ it.”

“You stole that from Constance?” Felicity asked.

“Borrowed,” he replied. “There’s a difference. Besides, ain’t you the one who wanted us ta’ break the rules?”

“So we came here to listen?” she asked.

“We came here so when they take ‘er down, I can get ya’ a few minutes with ‘er before they throw ‘er in a really dark hole.”

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Look, Constance’ll try ta’ make it happen, just like she said she would. But, I ain’t countin’ on it. Once the Feebs got their hands on ‘er, things are gonna get real tight. She off’ed a federal judge, remember?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“So, the real deal is this might be the only chance ya’ get. I’m just evenin’ the odds.”

“So, how much trouble is this going…”

The radio crackled and he held up a hand to shush me.

“Mandalay is in line at the gate,” the earlier voice announced.

“Ten-four,” another voice responded.

The device hissed then settled back into silence for the moment.

“What?” Ben asked, glancing over at me.

“How much trouble is this going to cause for you?” I repeated.

“Didn’t ya’ say this’s what it’s gonna take ta’ get rid of the ghost bitch?”

“In theory.”

“Well, then let’s hope your theory’s right.”

“You’re still going to get into trouble though, aren’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied. “I’m pretty much already suspended.”

“The phone call earlier?”

“Yeah. S’posed ta’ have a meetin’ tomorrow mornin’. But, that’s just a formality. Unless I’m completely off base, it’s pretty much all over except the paperwork. Lookin’ like thirty days, no pay.”

“I really appreciate this, Ben,” Felicity said.

“Yeah, I’ll remember that.”

“Just remind me if I try to bite you again,” she quipped.

“Uh-huh,” he grunted. “What was that you told me? Oh yeah, like that’d work. Why don’t ya’ just make sure ya’ invite me over ta’ dinner a lot for the next month. And, maybe get me somethin’ real nice for Christmas too.”

The radio crackled and hissed, then Constance’s voice issued from the speaker once again. “I’m in and I see Washburn. Heading for the carousel now.”

A new voice followed. “I’ve got Mandalay. Everything’s clear.”

My head was starting to throb with a fresh round of stabs in the back of my skull. While, as usual, the chronic ache had never fully subsided, it had at least faded into the background for the most part once Felicity was back on an even keel. Now, it was returning with a vengeance.

“She’s here,” I said.

“Where?” Ben asked, scanning the distant crowd of people who were still waiting to enter through the gates. “Do ya’ see ‘er?”

“No,” I replied. “But, I feel her.”

“Fuckin’ wonderful,” he replied. “Well, at least we know she wasn’t blowin’ smoke about showin’ up.”

A handful of minutes oozed by, and the radio crackled again.

“Frye, you should be able to see Mandalay in about ten seconds.”

A female voice answered a moment later. “I’ve got her. Clear so far.”

“Who’s covering the carousel?” Constance’s voice blipped in.

“Book is on the left at the concession stand,” the earlier voice replied. “Tamm is in the seating area making like a mommy.”

“I don’t like it,” Constance replied. “Too many civilians. Especially children. Where’s our takedown point?”

“When approached, try to lead her back the way you’re coming in. We’ll move when there’s an opportunity.”

“And, if she doesn’t follow?”

A long span of silence filled in behind her question. Finally, the radio crackled again and the man replied, “We follow her.”

“Acknowledged.”

The radio hissed then fell quiet. We simply waited since there was nothing else we could do.

After a couple of minutes, Ben asked, “You still feelin’ ‘er?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Like a hammer to the back of the head.”

“What about you, Firehair?” he queried.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed.

I turned and gave her a curious glance. She had been especially quiet for the past few minutes, and a wordless response wasn’t like her at all. She caught my gaze and simply raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Are you doing okay, honey?” I asked.

She nodded.

Before I could press her further, the radio crackled again.

“Book, you should be able to see Mandalay now,” Frye’s voice came over the air.

“Acknowledged. Okay, I see her,” a male voice replied. “Tamm?”

“Ten-four. I see her,” another woman said, her voice low against a backdrop of the calliope-like music from the carousel.

Fifteen or so seconds passed and the radio burped again.

“Heads up. We have a possible target approaching from the south,” came Frye’s voice. “Red hair… Black, full-length leather coat at my three o’clock.”

“Right on time,” Constance said, her voice also now underscored by the bright tune of the amusement ride.

“I see her,” Tamm acknowledged.

The announcement served to instantly ratchet up the level of tension in the van. Knowing how I was feeling at this moment, I didn’t even want to imagine what it was like for Constance and the rest of the agents.

“I’m on her,” Frye announced after a desperately long thirty seconds.

“Make sure you give her some room,” Book’s voice came across. “If it’s her, we don’t want her spooked.”

“Got it.”

Another half minute crept past at what seemed like greatly reduced speed. The hammering inside my skull was starting to make me feel nauseous, and I found myself wishing for an economy-sized bottle of aspirin. I waited, my ears straining to hear anything at all, as if some quiet transmission might escape my notice. I knew I was holding my breath, but I didn’t care.