M Sellars - The Law Of Three

My stomach was starting to churn as I lifted the receiver and placed it against the side of my head. Bouncing around inside my skull was a desperate fear that I was about to become wholly responsible for Eldon Porter taking the life of a young woman who was associated with me by only tenuous threads at best. The concept of guilt by association was abhorrent enough, but this was virtually a case of guilt by future association.

It didn’t matter how much reassurance I was given by Ben and Constance; the fact remained, in my mind I would hold myself accountable. I would experience a threefold return for my actions; there was no doubt. It was a foregone conclusion. And, I knew that if nothing else, it would be self-imposed. If it came to that, the payback would be harsh, and worst of all, inescapable.

My brain tabbed through the possible greetings, both appropriate and not-several of which I desperately wanted to snarl. I wanted to scream each of them at Porter in unending succession, backed with every thread of anger I could muster; anger was something I had in abundance right now.

However, at the same time the fire raged inside me, I was fully aware that even a single one of the phrases might possibly seal Star’s fate the moment it was uttered. I simply didn’t know what would push him over into the red zone, and I didn’t want to find out. I forced myself to draw in a deep breath and search once again for center.

I don’t know how long I actually stood there with the handset to my ear, staring off into space, completely mute. What I do know is that the pause was long enough for my choice of greetings to become inconsequential. As a fleeting moment of calm passed before me, I reached out for it and made a desperate grab.

My shoulders involuntarily relaxed as the person on the other end of the line spoke.

“Hello?” A confused, feminine voice flowed into my ear. “Anyone there? Rowan? Felicity?”

“Yeah, Cally,” I answered with a slow sigh. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Cally,” I told her. “Listen…”

“Do you have the TV on?” She began her excited query before I could finish. “They’ve got someone trapped in a warehouse. It’s on all the stations. Is that him?”

“Calm down, Cally,” I told her. “I know. We’ve been watching. And yes, it’s him. So, listen…”

“I knew it!” she exclaimed, barreling over me once again. “I could feel it. I told everyone here that it had to be him.”

“Cally…” I started again.

She didn’t allow me to get more than a single word in. “He’s got a hostage. Do they know who it is? What are they going to do?”

“CALLY!” I stated her name with a closely guarded firmness. “Slow down. Now be quiet and listen to me.”

She fell silent for a fleeting moment and then spoke again in a meek tone that carried with it an overtone of worry, “Rowan, what’s wrong?”

“Rowan, that was the field office,” Mandalay’s voice came at me.

I looked at her, and she gave a curt nod to the phone in my hand. “Porter is on Sullivan’s cell, and he’s trying to get through on this line right now.”

“Rowan? Rowan? What’s wrong?” Cally’s voice insisted in my ear.

I nodded back to Mandalay and then spoke quickly into the phone. “Cally, listen, I have to go.”

“Rowan,” her voice took on a desperate whine. “What’s wrong? Oh Gods! He doesn’t have Felicity, does he? He called her today…”

“CALLY!” I barked again, all at once struggling with impatience at the situation and sympathy for her turmoil. “Listen to me. He DOES NOT have Felicity. She’s okay, but I have to go. I’ll explain later.”

I could hear her crying my name as I dropped the handset back into the cradle.

I shot a quick glance over to Felicity, and she gave me an understanding nod. “Aye, I’ll call her on my cell.”

The telephone on the wall had pipped out a half ring the moment it hit the base and was already jangling its first full measure as my wife spoke. I closed my eyes and dropped my chin to my chest, drawing in a cleansing breath and forcing myself to blow it out slowly through my mouth.

“Rowan…” Mandalay appealed as the phone gave a second full ring.

I opened my eyes and looked up, giving her a shallow nod of acknowledgement as our eyes met. I could literally feel Eldon Porter on the other end of the phone even though I had not yet answered it; even the sound of the ring was different, angry and more urgent. This time it was the real thing, and I knew I had no choice but to play this out on his terms even though I had no idea what they were.

My hand had never left the telephone, so I slipped it back out of the base in one smooth motion. As the mouthpiece came near my lips, I spoke in the calmest voice I could evoke, “Hello, Eldon.”

“You haven’t won, Gant, you know that, don’t you?” He spat the question tersely.

I could hear rustling noises coming over the phone as he apparently moved about within the confines of the building. I could only imagine what it was like-dark, cold, and no visible escape. Even for someone as insane as he, desperation had to be oozing from every pore.

I didn’t feel sorry for him in the least, but I did fear the dangerous edge the panic would bring forth.

He was breathing hard, huffing shallow breaths out, and wheezing them back in at an alarming rate. The situation had the potential to turn sour in a heartbeat.

“I know, Eldon,” I told him. “You’re right, I haven’t won.”

“Don’t patronize me, Gant!” he screamed. “Your sorcerers’ tricks won’t work this time! You just got lucky, that’s all!”

“Okay, okay,” I said as a shiver traced itself up my spine. “Let’s work this out, Eldon.”

I carefully covered the mouthpiece with my free hand and looked at Constance. “He’s really edgy,” I said. “Nothing like he was earlier. He’s losing control really fast.”

She twisted her cell phone away from her mouth. “I know. They’ve got it patched in, and I’m listening. Look, Rowan, we’re working on something…”

“What?”

“Just keep him talking,” she instructed. “You’re doing fine.”

“Who were you talking to?!” Porter demanded in my ear.

I stiffened, feeling as though I had just been caught in the middle of some heinous act. I pulled my hand away from the mouthpiece and spoke. “I wasn’t talking to anyone.”

“When I called! I couldn’t get through! You had to be talking to somebody!”

I relaxed but not much. “That was just someone calling to check on me, Eldon.”

“One of your minions, I’m sure,” he retorted.

“You’re right, Eldon.” I agreed with him out of desperation.

“Damn you, Gant!” he shouted. “I told you not to patronize me!”

“Calm down, Eldon, we need to…”

“Stop telling me to calm down! Do you hear me?! Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

I pulled the handset away from my ear as he screamed. His voice buzzed in the earpiece, achieving a state of frantic distortion as he repeated the order.

I watched Constance as she glanced to the side and gave a nod. I could hear Ben whispering around the corner of the doorway and assumed that he was conferring with her. About what, I didn’t know, but I didn’t have time to speculate. She had told me they were working on something, so I had to trust them.

I tried to adopt a generic voice. “Okay, Eldon, I’m not trying to be patronizing to you. I’m sorry if that is how it sounded.”

“What is wrong with you, Gant?” he demanded.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“There’s something wrong with you,” he replied. “There’s something wrong with you!”