Marcus Sakey - The Blade Itself

Danny swallowed, the spit going down hard. “I know about Tommy.” The words dropped like stones. “I know he’s been kidnapped.”

Richard gaped at him. “How do you know that?”

Danny took a breath, forced himself to meet Richard’s eyes. “Because I helped do it.”

Total silence fell humming across the room. Time slowed, and Danny found himself noticing incredible detail in things. The individual hairs of Richard’s beard. The grain of the hardwood. The clammy trail of a bead of sweat sliding down his side.

And then Richard lunged, his arms up, his pupils wide. He swung wildly, fists flailing, an angry growl coming from his mouth. Danny held his hands at his sides, taking the hits, letting Richard drive him back. “Stop!”

His boss ignored him, throwing an awkward punch that set Danny’s bruised ribs singing.

“I’m here to help,” he said. His foot caught on the edge of a throw rug, and he staggered against the wall. Richard stepped forward and wrapped his hands around Danny’s throat.

His mind raced. He could stomp the heel of his foot down on Richard’s arch. He could punch him in the throat and drop him, gasping. He could lean forward and drive his knee into the man’s groin. Breaking an amateur choke was the easiest thing in the world.

But he held still and let his boss squeeze, the pressure on his throat growing. The pain was surprising, blunt and ragged, and he fought to suck air down his windpipe. Automatically, his hands clenched into fists, but he made himself loosen them. Richard leaned close, his face right in Danny’s, the man’s breath sour with coffee and anger. Fairy dots danced in Danny’s vision, the darkness of the hallway throbbing with his pulse. He kept his eyes on Richard’s, trying to put it all into them, the pain and regret and fear, willing Richard to let go, let him help, knowing that Richard had an animal right to do what he was doing.

Finally, summoning all his strength, he managed to whisper, “Tommy.” For an instant, nothing happened, and then the grip slackened slightly. He spoke again, the words sandpaper on the inside of his throat. “I can help you save him.”

Richard leaned forward, his nose almost touching Danny’s. Then he gave a last squeeze, grunted with frustration and anger, and let go. Danny dropped to his knees, gasping for air. The hardwood swam. He fought for balance, every pump of his heart sending his head spinning. Richard stalked back and forth, his steps loud.

When he had his breath back, Danny rose, keeping his hands at his sides.

“Where’s my son?” Richard’s eyes glinted in the darkness of the hall.

Danny shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Is he all right?”

“Yes.” He paused, forced himself to speak the truth. “At least, he was yesterday.”

Richard’s hands balled into shaking fists. “What do you mean?”

Danny swallowed. An electrical storm raged across the inside of his throat. “We don’t have a lot of time. But there are some things you should know.” In broad strokes, he told Richard about his past, about Evan, how Evan had come looking for him. His boss stared at him, his mouth open.

“You kidnapped my son because this man asked you to?”

“I had no choice. He threatened Karen, jumped her in an alley last week.” He paused, made himself meet Richard’s glare. “Evan is impulsive, rash. That’s what makes him dangerous. I knew he’d do it either way. If I didn’t help, he would have hurt Karen. And I thought that if I were involved, I could protect Tommy.”

His boss glared, turned away, then back. “So why are you here now?”

“Because if you deliver the money alone, Evan is going to kill you and Tommy both.”

“How do you know that?”

“He’s killed two people since he got out. One of them was my best friend.” He saw the flicker in Richard’s eyes. Danny was reaching him. “The other was a guy who overheard his call to you. This is his big score. He won’t take any chances.”

Richard turned away, hid his head in his hands. Danny heard a sound like a sob, quickly choked off.

“I’m here to help.” Danny stepped forward. “I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true.”

Richard looked up at him, anger in his eyes. “You’ve lied to me for years.”

“Yes.” There was no point in softening it.

“Why should I trust you now?”

“It isn’t just Tommy. He-” His voice broke. “He has Karen, too.”

Richard snorted. “That’s why you’re really here. Not for me, not for Tommy.”

Was that true? Would he be taking these risks if Karen’s life wasn’t also at stake?

He hoped so. Sometimes that was all you had.

“No. I’m here to set things right.” He gambled, put a hand on Richard’s shoulder. “I’m here to get your boy back.”

His boss stared at him, a complex mix of emotions in his eyes. Pain, rage, and hatred. But Danny thought he also saw something else. Maybe hope.

“Evan called you today,” Danny said, hoping to draw him out.

Richard nodded slowly. “An hour ago. I only know his voice.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s nice to have a name to hate now.”

“When is the meeting?”

“You don’t know?”

Danny shook his head. “Evan took your son and disappeared last night.”

Richard stared at him, the calculations clear on his face. Danny knew this was the moment of truth – either Richard would trust him, let him help, or else it was over. The seconds ticked long and slow.

“Nine o’clock. At the Pike Street construction site.”

Inwardly, Danny groaned. Of course. The irony had appealed to Evan so much, the idea of using Richard’s own space to hide his son. How much better, how much crueler, to have the meet there? He should have guessed.

“What are you supposed to do?”

“Drive in, park my car facing out, and leave it running.” The words started to come more easily. “Walk into the building with the money in a duffel bag. He said he’d take the money and my car, and leave Tommy with me.”

Danny shook his head, one hand massaging his sore neck. “He’ll check the money, and then he’ll shoot you.”

“We should call the police.”

Danny turned fast. “No.”

“You said he’s going to kill me, kill Tommy. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Believe me, Richard, you bring the police, Tommy and Karen die. Evan will be watching. You’d save your life, but it will cost your son’s.”

“What if it was a specialist, or a SWAT team, something like that?”

Danny snorted. “It doesn’t work that way. You call now, you’ll get squad cars, maybe a couple of detectives. They’ll be noisy and they’ll be slow. As for deploying SWAT teams, well, that only happens on TV.”

Richard looked like he wanted to argue, then sighed. He leaned against the wall, let himself slide down to sit on his heels. “All of this only happens on TV.”

Danny felt for the guy. Like his own, Richard’s whole life had been ripped away. In some ways, it had been worse for Danny because he had watched it happening, had to suffer every moment of it. But at least it had left him in a world he understood. Richard was lost.

But understanding this world didn’t change basic facts. Evan held the position of strength. If they were going to stop him, they needed an edge.

“You don’t,” Danny asked, “happen to own a gun?”

“With a kid? No way.”

Danny nodded, tired. It was the first time in his life he’d wanted the answer to that question to be yes. “Okay.” He sat down against the wall beside Richard. In the silence, he could hear the faint ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the living room.

“Why is this happening?” Richard’s voice was faint.