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Continuation from part one:
The three days after our return home were somber and unobtrusive. We were both lost in our shared nightmare. I could tell that Jack's warning to Katie weighed heavily on her mind. She wasn't a man, nor did she fully understand a man's pride and ego, which is to say my self-respect, but I could tell she wondered how I might fare under the pressure.
Three days later found me driving her to the airport. Jack had at least kept one small promise by not picking her up. Maybe, he was only playing it close to the vest in case I'd come up with something they hadn't considered, like when I hacked their system to get a job.
"I love you, Andy." This time it was solemn. "Please try to stay busy and put your worries out of your mind. Use your journal. I'll call you every chance I get, including New Year's Eve. I know we are finalizing the new combined executive committee with McMillin but that's all I know."
I told her I loved her, too. We cried a bit, forced a few smiles, and put on our brave faces. Then she was gone and I had absolutely no idea how I was going to cope.
Part 2:
During my drive home, I thought long and hard about how I would endure the misery. There are no words to describe how it feels to have the person you love with your entire being taken so callously from you, then knowing she'll be returned but forever changed.
Changed. Permanently. On our last night together in bed, I'd made her promise some things.
"Be honest with me, Katie," I said softly as her head lay on my chest. "If you... enjoy the... sex with him." Her eyes looked up into my eyes. "When you come home, I need your honesty, Katie."
"Of course," she said untangling herself from my arm and sitting up to face me. "But I can tell you now if you like." She paused, waiting for my response and I nodded for her to continue.
"I'm going to enjoy it," she said earnestly but also with empathy. "He'll know the difference if I try to fake it, I mean, but to enjoy it with him, I'll need to be thinking of you."
I guess my look softened because she went on. "I'll be thinking of you, my love, as if your life - and mine - depended on it."
I spent my first night alone doing exactly what I'd done that weekend when I first found out about our nightmare. I drank myself to sleep. I had no intention of sinking myself into a drunken depressed well of self-pity. I'd give myself the one night.
The following morning though, there was something different in me. Maybe it was a defense mechanism or some divine intervention, I don't know, but I got up, quickly showered as if it was a workday, and popped three Ibuprofen with breakfast.
As I sat there eating, I had several moments of clarity. The first was that as much as had been explained to me, I really knew nothing about what was happening. It finally dawned on me that I was being led by my emotions, something Powers and Biggs had planned and were counting on. Of course, I could simply believe my wife and those assholes but to what end? If they could punish me, even end me, then I had no reason whatsoever to believe them.
I'd need to do a deep dive, even at the risk of being caught. I had to learn everything I could about Worldview, Mort, and Powers. As much as I wanted to believe Katie, I'd need to prove that as well. Further, I would need to investigate McMillin. The merger could hold the key to all of it or it could at least provide me with some leverage.
I used the backdoor I'd created in the system, and then I created another backdoor breach, one that was easier to spot but not so easy to track. I'd use the third one to start siphoning money a little at a time. I set up an offshore account, nothing too fancy. It could easily be one of their own offshore accounts if it wasn't hidden beyond the finance dashboard. I found out that day they had hundreds of accounts.
Finally, I created redundancy in the original breach, pointing back towards my co-worker. I agonized over that for some time and took a long run before returning home and then typing the final set of codes. It went against everything in my morals to implicate and possibly cause harm to a guy I knew who hadn't done anything wrong except give me his tablet to fix. This was war, however, and all was fair, I decided.
The next day, feeling as if I was accomplishing things, I went to work on the money. After about two hours of digging, I hit paydirt.
There was an account that at first glance appeared to be used for compound interest and dividends. Money was being deposited and withdrawn. The withdrawals appeared to be for odds and ends, like travel expenses. There were lodging and meal withdrawals, probably for suppliers or top-tier customers. Maybe it was more significant, though, because all executives had their own 'above board' expense accounts. Also, some withdrawals went to other unmarked accounts. The account had just over $350,000 in it. I checked the account several times that day and was pleased to see that the amounts changed every few hours in a range from six dollars to one hundred and ninety-three dollars. That meant the account wasn't even real money, just an algorithm intended to calculate daily interest and dividends based on the stock market.
After watching the activity most of the day, I set up an automatic withdrawal every three days, randomized to take between eleven hundred and twenty-nine hundred. I based those numbers on the average of the withdrawals to keep suspicions down.
It would take more work - painstaking work - to snoop around for personal emails or anything nefarious, even with the rotating IP address.
Unlike the first time, I was more upbeat when Katie returned. We'd made a pact not to force sex between us until I felt comfortable or vice versa. We had a nonsexual New Year albeit rewarding under the circumstances. The following day threw me for a loop.
When Katie arrived home, she wanted to be held. She didn't say it but I could see it in her eyes, plain as day. I held her tightly on our sofa and she cried for half an hour. Another part of the pact was not to push. Of course, we'd both need to occasionally pry but respectfully. The rest of the day went better than I expected but the next day, Katie seemed to turn cold, indifferent, even. Maybe it was her guilt. I made sure she knew that I was there for her so she could unburden herself but it still took about fifteen days for her to return to any semblance of normalcy.
Once over her funk, I reminded her about our many agreements, including being open and honest with one another. She thanked me but then she reminded me that I was supposed to be using the journal as a release mechanism.
When I asked her if she wanted to tell me about the intimacy or any part of the trip, she paled and said she was too embarrassed to discuss it. If this was how things would be each time, I doubted very much that our marriage or relationship would survive a year, let alone two.
We got back to some amount of normalcy during the last half of the month and even restarted our love-making. I'd also made some headway with my investigation of Worldview but as far as the individuals, not so much. I decided to take a break and come up with something special for Katie and me on Valentine's Day. That idea blew up on February 3 when Katie came home from work solemnly.
After we finished our dinner, Katie looked at me across the table with a look of dread. She was having trouble saying the words or making any sound at all.
"He's made travel plans for Valentine's, hasn't he?" I asked bitterly. She could only nod.
"Sonofabitch!" I yelled, flinging the chair backward as I abruptly stood. I tried to get myself under control and did. I wasn't doing either of us any good in that state of mind.
"I'm going out," I glared as I said it. "It's not you. I need to process this so I don't lose it. It's not your fault, Katie. It's just so hard to take."
My wife half-smiled, I guess that despite everything, I was considering her feelings, too. She nodded again in understanding and I left. Under the weight of my predicament, I thought seriously about just running that night. I was in such turmoil that I didn't even want to drink. After driving for quite some time, I went home and found Katie in bed, looking haggard. I climbed into what had always been our respite and held her tightly until we fell asleep.
The next morning, Katie seemed eager to talk.
"I need to... unburden," she said quietly, a bit distantly. I told her to go ahead.
"I feel like this isn't going as we planned," she began. "I know... or I knew it might not go the way we laid it out. Now I'm starting to realize how difficult it truly is for both of us. I thought I... could deal with things... compartmentalize."
"What does that mean, Katie?" I asked, not understanding.
"I thought it would be a lot simpler," she tried to explain. "I could stay detached... I don't know, like out of body or something. I could pretend I was with you. I could visualize it was us and I could then block him out. That works during... sex. It doesn't work when he's talking about sex, before or after. Sometimes he'll even start talking about it during lunch or our evening meal."
"Like what for example?" I asked when she paused.
"He promised," she said catching a sob in her throat. "He'd told us that he wasn't going to interfere with us, belittle you, and he hasn't, but he's snooping. He asks about the intimate parts of our relationship."
She seemed hesitant to go further so I took our plates to the sink and opened a bottle of wine.
Setting a fuller-than-usual glass in front of her, I continued to probe. "What kinds of things does he want to know?"
Katie studied my face closely. I knew she needed me just then and was gauging me to see if I was about to explode.
"I need," she hesitated again. "I need you to... make love to me. Back there." She didn't point or motion to her backside but I knew what she meant. One of my eyebrows raised as I stared at her.
"Dammit, this is so hard," she said. "He doesn't make fun of you. It's clear he tries to not even mention your name but I can tell he's trying to figure out if there are things we haven't done... sexually. He's nowhere near as stealthy as he thinks. I know I've always denied you that one act but I need you to take that option off the table. Even if he does push me for that, I want to make sure you are first."
I had to consider her words for a bit. About a minute went by before I realized I needed to breathe.
"Let's take off," I finally found my voice. "We could just run. They're so wealthy and connected that I seriously doubt they'd even look very hard. They're not going to spend any time or energy on us. They get a thrill from toying with people... with their lives. We could take the money we need and just get out of here. Get away from this nightmare."
Katie looked at me again with pity. It was a look I'd never seen in her eyes regarding me before that first weekend, but now I easily recognized it. "We can't, Andy," she reminded me. "They'll find us and they will kill us or just you. I can't... I won't let that happen."
And that was the sticking point in our relationship. Both of us were being forced against our will. That was clear and, I felt, honest on its face. It was the end game we couldn't agree on. She was going to tough it out, be the gallant one, my knight in shining armor. Except I didn't believe for a moment that she was up to the task. I probably wasn't either.
Valentine's was on a Wednesday. He was flying them to the South of France from Monday to Friday. I was supportive over the weekend but I also asked her twice more to disappear with me. She mimicked the same response.
It was another business deal, of course. I tried once more on the Sunday before she flew out.
"Tell him you'll meet him at the airport," I almost begged. "We'll pay cash for tickets, make sure we're at a different terminal. We'll catch them off balance, get a head start."
Katie wasn't having any of it. "I love you, Andy," she told me. "You know we can't and you know why. Please be strong for the both of us and I'll do the same."
I wasn't strong. I was vengeful and angry. I held it together every night when she called, doing my best to be convincing on the phone. I had a hard time focusing on the task at hand when it came to digging for dirt on Worldview. I'd told myself not to feel sorry for myself or wallow in self-pity but that was easier said than done. I knew my thoughts and emotions were all over the map but it was difficult putting myself in check.
I spent Valentine's night reading articles on spouse sharing and a few others on cuckoldry. It was quick work to uncover that I'd never be like the men who enjoyed those sorts of things. The unwilling ones' feelings were more aligned with mine.
Sleep was not forthcoming that night. I tried to whittle the problem down to its rawest form. Yes, I felt less than and it was easy to admit to myself. No, it wasn't all about the comparative sex that bastard was engaging in with my wife. It was mostly about what he had or had over me and what he didn't. That curious conclusion led to another round of speculative thoughts.
I tried to work the problem from both ends. Why was it that Powers, hell, any wife-stealing prick, had no problem doing the woman the very day after she'd been with her husband? Maybe even the same day and a few hours later? Even to be willing to go down on her? Why when she returned to her 'normal' life did her significant other view her as unclean? Some things I'd read took it further to 'vile' and 'disgusting,' from the husband's point of view. Was it strictly a physical thing or did it have more to do with the vows they'd made? I made plenty of notes.
I decided that wasn't me. I could see what was happening as involuntary, akin to rape if I was being honest with myself, even though she was gaining from it. Hell, we both were, again being brutally honest. I realized others, maybe even people my wife worked with, might see her as a company whore instead of a victim. In truth, it was a high-stakes game we'd never been given a choice to play so both the benefits and the consequences were commensurate.
The outcome of my thoughts left me with a surprising peace. Could I see it for what I knew it was? Could I control myself not to try to take revenge against Biggs and Powers? "Do something stupid," as Katie had put it. Likewise, could I support Katie, even though she and Worldview were the only ones truly benefitting? I guess it's called 'taking one for the team.'
Finally, I knew, a time would come when I'd put my foot down, especially if Biggs and Powers went back on their word - and there was zero reason to believe they wouldn't. Would Katie acquiesce to my wishes like a good and loving wife should or would her self-worth or self-importance take over? If that happened, then all my worrying and planning would be for nothing.
With that out of the way and my mind clearer, I made a few decisions. I'd work on my further investigation of Worldview for roughly four hours per day and I'd also take a job Door-dashing or working at Uber Eats just to keep myself balanced and sane.
Katie would be asked point blank when she got home and would have no choice in the matter to answer whether she'd had any bareback sex. She wouldn't like it but we needed to be a team - on the same team - if our relationship was to survive. If she had with Powers or anyone Powers eventually decided to hand her off to, she'd need an STD test before we slept together.
The last thing I'd wrestled with myself over was the hardest. I wouldn't let these fuckers beat me down, even if they actually beat me or if they somehow beat Katie. I knew that there was a chance that somewhere in the process she might succumb to their pressure. We had similar childhoods so I knew a lot about Katie that she didn't often say or admit, like her penchant for the finer things in life.
Like before, Katie was sullen and withdrawn when she got home. I decided one last thing on that Friday night and we'd discuss it the following morning.
I had a nice breakfast prepared when she came downstairs. She was still in quiet mode. After I cleared our plates, I pulled a chair up alongside her and began.
"I've done some thinking while you were away," I prodded more than informed. "We need some additional rules."
She looked up quizzically and finally nodded but said nothing.
I told her about my job. She wondered why I wasn't looking to do something in my field.
"I've lost the desire for it," I said honestly. "Maybe in the future, I'll go back or find something that fits but for now I need something else. As is, I spend plenty of time doing that work every day looking for something I can use against your bosses."
I carefully treaded into the subject of sex. "Are you... I mean, is he, using condoms?"
That elicited a blank stare of wonderment from Katie. She realized too late what face she must have been wearing and looked away.
"We have," she started, "until yesterday morning. I... we..." she stopped and took a deep breath. "You know I don't like to talk about it, for obvious reasons."
"What reasons?" I asked. "Are they reasons involving my likely fragile ego or pride?"
"No!" she replied too fast. "I mean, well, I suppose that could be one reason. I don't like to talk about it because what we're doing is wrong... and tawdry. I don't want to hurt you any more than we already have."
That was an interesting statement that I filed away in my head. I remained silent, hoping to force her to speak more.
"Okay, Andy," she hesitantly said. "Here it is. We don't always have sex, like I've said. This trip was Monday night after we got checked in and had dinner. The first night of a trip is always like that."
She stopped, seemingly to choose her next words carefully.
"Wednesday," she said, "he apologized during dinner about taking me away from my husband on Valentine's Day. I'm sure he saw me looking at all the couples in the restaurant. Anyway, he apologized and offered to be my 'stand-in' so I wouldn't be sad and would have a clear head for the following day's negotiations. I knew that wasn't at all what he meant or wanted. He wanted to fuck me on Valentine's Day because he was arrogant and because he could. I was right and he was more forceful with me that night. On Thursday night, we only had a quick... we did it quickly and I went to my room in the suite. About five in the morning, I woke with him spooned up behind me, looking for more."
I'd been listening intently and wanted to weigh both what was said and what wasn't. I let her sip her coffee and then continue.
"He didn't use a condom that time and I'd just awakened so I didn't think to demand one. I figured it out later when I woke up again and went to take a shower."
"So," I took a breath. "I'll be asking you each time you come home and if there's any bareback sex, you'll need to get a check-up and show me a clean bill of health before we resume."
She glared incredulously at me. "Sorry," I said with no hint of being apologetic. "You can tell him if you like. He might have a certain control over me - over us - but I'm not risking my life for anyone."
Katie dropped her eyes then to her coffee cup and so I went on. "Lastly, that right there," I said more sternly, "Won't be tolerated. He's had you all week. Monday morning you'll be back with him at the office. I'm not prepared to spend my weekends for the next twenty-four months or so letting you get over yourself and your trysts. Get yourself under control on your way home and don't darken 'us' time or I'm inclined to find others to hang out with who have a happier disposition."
Katie contemplated for another minute and, finally, she nodded her consent and came over to hug me. She held me tightly for a while then said, "Don't leave me - emotionally - I mean. I love you. I'll get tested on Monday at lunchtime. It looks like we don't have any more trips planned until April."
Katie got tested and was clean. I wish I could say I was fully relieved but it wasn't only her health that affected me. Yeah, I was becoming a hard ass of a husband. I knew, we both did, that Katie was the one dealing with the physicality of our ordeal. She was the one who had to give her body.
Mine was a mental fuck. I had to constantly tell myself that I wasn't less of a man because I couldn't defend her or save her. I'd proffered the solution, which was to run, and she wouldn't accept that solution. I kept telling myself, 'You can't save someone who won't let you.'
Despite my attempts, I fell into a deeper depression. Part of it was the fact that I kept coming to dead ends while looking for the smoking gun at Worldview. Winter gave way to spring but entire days went by when I didn't set foot out of the house. Working as a food delivery worker means you work when you feel like it and I didn't most days.
Katie did all she could to jolt me out of my funk. It wasn't as if we never talked because we talked plenty. My wife was struggling to find a way out of her own hell just as I was and thus simply couldn't help each other. Some days, we were so inwardly lost that we could barely commiserate. The outcome was the dark coldness in our home slowly became a mini Antarctica. We rarely had sex and that's all it was.
The summer, a time of fun and rejuvenation in the Pacific Northwest, found us both as recluses. Jack had been much more of a critical boss than a lover due to Katie's declining attitude and her productivity. Since their April trip, they'd only gone to a weekend conference at the end of June and back to McMillin headquarters the first week of August. It was that trip which led to the beginning of the end.
It was after Labor Day that I began to notice a change in my wife. In fairness, there was no longer a barometer for normal but Katie and I were always trying our hardest, it seemed to me anyway, to remain upbeat. We were caring and open with one another and even if some days it was a façade, we wore the smile of a happy couple. There wasn't any point to do otherwise. Neither of us was the enemy.
Katie suddenly became withdrawn for about ten days, then she gradually came back from whatever funk she was in. She knew I knew because I'd asked what was wrong and what I could do for her. Her answer was always a very pointed "nothing."
A few days later, I was loading our washing machine and noticed a pair of Katie's panties in the bottom. It was a cute white pair with several little hearts running the color spectrum between red and pink. I always had a little trouble sorting lights and darks and, since I was doing jeans and dark blue bath towels, I decided to take the panties out so as not to ruin them.
That's when I saw the blood. It seemed to be too red for her normal period and there was a lot of it all the way to both seams in the crotch. I studied them for several minutes. I'm no doctor but something was out of place.
Katie was on birth control even before all the shit with Jack started. I didn't pay any attention to her cycle, yet I racked my brain for the last time she'd had her time of the month. If I recall correctly, it had been the third week of July. That didn't mean much. She probably had one in August but we weren't having regular sex anymore so I could have easily not known. It wasn't like a major topic at dinner. I put the panties aside, on top of a plastic bag, and made a mental note to ask her that evening.
Unfortunately, I didn't - couldn't - put it out of my mind. I quickly searched on my phone for words like ovulation and most fertile after the menstrual cycle. What I learned in a few minutes took my blood pressure to unnatural levels.
By the time she was due home, I'd already done the math several times and I'd drank two full glasses of rum and coke. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the truth but I committed myself to getting it all the same.
Katie strode through the door at five-thirty, as she did most days. It had been the norm for me to prepare dinner most nights since I was barely putzing around with my part-time delivery job. She found me at the kitchen table staring out the window with no signs of any cooking activity.
"Andy, what's wrong?" she said, alarmed.
"We need to talk," I told her with no emotion. Her face went through a range of emotions though, and a few color shades. Finally, she went to the refrigerator, pulled out a half-bottle of white wine, and then went for a glass. She sat down and filled the glass to the brim.
"The washing machine?" she inquired with only a glance out of the corner of her eye.
"Yeah," I quietly replied. Then I waited.
Katie gulped the wine and refilled her glass. Maybe she was stalling, thinking, but I couldn't say for sure.
"I meant to retrieve those and discard them," she began. I'd been waiting most of the day to get painful words out and get answers so I cut her off.
"To keep your poor, clueless husband in the dark?" I prodded.
"Yes," she stated. I didn't detect any remorse yet, so maybe she thought she had a chance to fix things.
"Mostly to keep you from being hurt, honey," she continued. I guessed there'd be no remorse today. She seemed eager to get it off her chest, rehearsed or not, I'll never know.
"Miscarriage or abortion?" I interrupted again.
"The latter," she replied after a pause.
"Fuck, Katie," I growled. "You can't even say it so why do it? This is where your level of respect for me is now? Disrespect more like it."
That made her reflect. I wondered. Maybe I'd called it just as it was. If that was the case, we were already done.
"I forgot to take my pills," she finally said something. "I..."
"Bullshit!" I screamed as I slammed my fist against the table, toppling her empty wine glass. Fortunately, it didn't shatter on the floor.
"Can I explain please?" she said, also in an elevated tone. "I know you're mad."
I wanted to state the obvious but held my tongue. I was already tired. Tired of this day, tired of our situation, and the last thing I wanted was some big conversation laden with excuses. I waved outward for her to go ahead.
"I did miss several days in late July," she restarted. "Right around my period and some days after. I'm so damned distracted these days with the pressure and all. Anyway, I didn't think too much of it, making a mental note to get back on track. Then it hit me the first night I was away with Jack."
I'd become quite irritated at her using his first name as well. It wasn't that I didn't understand that after being intimate and working together every damned day, it was normal to her. To me, it always felt like a slap in the face.
"I stopped Jack before we got started," she was talking faster then. "I had to say something so I explained my dilemma. He gave me a strange look, then an evil grin. He told me that was perfect. He said he was going to suggest that I go off the pill anyway and give you a child for being such a good... boy."
I jumped away from the table in a rage. "Is that the word he used? Boy? Or something else?"
She looked down. "I thought you said Mr. Perfect never trash-talked me?" I interrogated. "What happened to that? When did that stop?"
"This was the first time," she told me staring into my eyes as if daring me to call her a liar.
"I don't believe you," I sat back down. "He'd never want you to give me a child. He likely wanted to turn it into a competition. Looks like he won. But hey..."
I had another thought. "You told him that I make you get tested every time you come home, didn't you?"
She looked at me, then down, and nodded. "Anyway, I didn't think much of it. I've missed a few days many times. I knew I was ovulating but those drugs usually take a month or more to get out of your system and I'd already restarted."
"Funny thing, that," I snarled, holding up a round package with little pills inside. "Looks to me like you only restarted a few days ago."
Fear crept into her expression. "I know you... look, I know what you must be thinking but you're wrong. He went into the bathroom at some point and must have gone through my travel case. The next morning my pills were gone. When I confronted him, he said he was serious the night before and he'd taken them and flushed them.
"He told me that it would be good for us. He said if you were too lazy or depressed to find any meaningful work, then staying home and taking care of a baby would be good for you, give you perspective, and rejuvenate you. I knew he didn't mean that. I'm pretty sure he wanted to impregnate me but what was I supposed to do?"
"Tell him to go fuck himself," I yelled. "Or any other means of saying no!"
"You know better," she retorted.
"I know you probably laughed and agreed with him," I replied with a snort.
She shook her head in mock disbelief. "We were supposed to be a team. We aren't anymore. I was afraid to tell you so I told him. He was elated, as I expected. I put my foot down and told him I would not force you - I think I said 'have' you - raise another man's child. He didn't believe me. He made a few jokes and disparaging remarks about you. Loser, I think, was the word. I told him if he didn't pay for an abortion immediately, I'd do anything I could to destroy him or die trying."
She was out of steam. Katie sat back down and took a swig of the remaining wine straight from the bottle. "He reminded me what he's always said to both of us. We'd be missing, he'd make sure the police would look the other way. He'd lay things out about your anger issues, our personalities, and our pasts. He chuckled when he told me to go ahead and record him or try to get something - anything - I could use against them. But I held my ground. I wouldn't do that to you! I love you!" she was bawling then.
I looked her in the eye again. "If you loved me so much, you'd have listened to me long ago," I stated. "We'd be somewhere far away by now, living new untethered lives. But no, you want to see this through. It's easy for you."
"You sonofabitch!" she raged. "I'm the one having to have the sex! Fuck you, sitting around here wallowing in self-pity, while I'm basically raped."
"I don't see it that way," I said coldly. "You're off traveling to exotic locations, being wined and dined, and having sex with a handsome powerful man. Even without the sex, you're on his arm in public like some sort of trophy. You could have left with me a long time ago. You keep saying you're trying to protect me, doing this for me but I don't think so anymore. I think you enjoy it. The glamour of it. The excitement."y
"I've told you - fuck, Andy," she was infuriated and too mixed up to form a coherent thought for a few minutes. "When we were in Belize, that first weekend. On the last day, we were out with two of the top brass from McMillin. A cargo plane was being loaded with one hundred or so refugees - immigrants. The plane, hell the entire runway area was surrounded by agents. FBI and DHS with the emblems on their windbreakers. Jack and another exec from McMillin were standing there talking with them like old hunting buddies. The plane was bound for Kansas City, Missouri. That's seventy-five miles from the Kansas border and just another few miles to the large ranch that McMillin had just purchased. After they finished chatting, Jack came over to me as we were boarding our plane with a shit-eating grin, as if to say, "See? Look who's on our team."
"That doesn't mean we have to take it," I shouted. "We're losing the game, Katie, in case you've gone blind. You got pregnant with his child! What the actual fuck?!"
"What happened to you?" Her tone was now agitated. "Huh?" she reached over and held my chin, forcing me to look at her.
"What happened to the man I married?" she went on. "The strong, reasonable, loving, and confident man I fell in love with. Where did he go?"
I pulled my head away from her grasp. "He's dead. Dead on the inside, just not the outside yet."
"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU," she screamed. "You're right here but you're acting like some neighborhood kid came over and took your favorite action figure. You won't find a job. You sit in that office doing god knows what on your computer. Some secret shit because I looked. Imagine my surprise when I find our hard drive partitioned and yours is password protected. What is it? Porn? Just a little something to take the edge off while I have to make nice and work with my tormentor all day?"
"Yeah, you're the victim," I mumbled.
"We both are, Andy," her voice was laced with exacerbation and she let out a deep sigh that broke my heart. "Alright," she said sitting up straight in her chair. "You want to leave, go on then. I'll give you a running head start. I won't say a word to anyone but eventually, they'll find out, probably sooner than later. It won't just be your ass then; it will be mine as well. I'll take that because I love you. I'm just not signing my death warrant by running with you. That's all you."
I let out a relationship-ending sigh of my own. She'd never get it. I guess from her perspective, I'd never see her point of view either. The impasse was insurmountable.
I already had everything that I needed in my car. I had somewhat of an escape plan, too. The new laptop I'd paid cash for that afternoon had all my files from the home computer and I'd wiped that machine clean. I stood up and looked down at my wife. Things weren't supposed to end this way. Little voices in my head were whispering, some screaming at me to sit down and try to work things out. I couldn't.
"I loved you with all my heart," I said as I kissed her forehead. It took a second for her to register that comment and then I heard her sob as I was walking out the door. My comment was brutal and unnecessary but I was so angry. For a long time afterward, I wished I'd never said that. Moreover, I wished I'd said something loving that encapsulated our long relationship before Jack Powers.
Despite my need for flight, I meandered around aimlessly for an hour or so. I felt so lost but no more so than if I'd stayed. When I stopped daydreaming, I realized I was downtown Spokane. It's a much different place after dark than in the daytime. If you've never been, it can be a scary place. At the time I was going through all this, the crime rates and homelessness were higher than in metro Seattle.
There was a time, even a year before, when I hated the homeless problem, and even despised it. Since Jack and Mortimer, though, I'd come to see these people as victims as well. Most were probably cheated out of what little they had; some became victims to a one hundred-billion-dollar drug trade. I'd read but never believed that two percent of the world's population controlled ninety-five percent of the world's real wealth. Not banking Monopoly money or over-inflated stock exchange prices, but tangible things of value. I'd read in context that if the shit ever hit the fan, a guy like Tom Cruise would end up just like me. His bank card and credit cards wouldn't work either. He might have a little more clout than a guy like me but his three-hundred and forty-five million dollars didn't even come close to getting him into the two percent club. The thought of what little chance I had against those pricks at Worldview almost made me turn the car around.
At a red light, a ragged, older homeless man wandered into the crosswalk swinging his ratty wooden walking stick in the air. At one point it landed on my hood, hard. Maybe it was my anger or an inner need for some retribution but I jumped out of my car and screamed obscenities at him. Several other homeless people came out of nowhere. I remember thinking it was an ambush as I jumped back in the car. By the time I locked my doors, several of them were banging on my windows on all sides. I put the car in gear with my foot on the brake, hoping to get the men in front to move aside but they didn't. I gave it a little gas still with my foot on the brake pedal. Nothing. Someone was using a metal bar on the top of my vehicle and I knew it would only be a matter of time before the window came crashing in.
That happened right after I thought it and, instinctively, I punched the gas, running over at least three men as shattering glass flew into my face. I felt and heard them pelting my vehicle with whatever they were throwing as I made my getaway.
Trying to think quickly, I decided to head north out of the city towards the Canadian border. Twelve blocks or so later I saw the red and blue flashing lights in my rearview. I seriously thought about punching the gas but my car would never outrun them so I pulled over and played it cool.
That did no good at all. The description of my vehicle had been given by at least four eyewitnesses, one even remembering my license plate number, plus my driver's side glass was busted out. I was arrested immediately and booked into county rather than Spokane because I'd been caught by a sheriff's deputy.
After my mug shot, I was handed a pillow and a blanket and led into a communal cell. There were four other men already there who just stared at me with unemotional eyes. I sat huddled in a corner. Thirty minutes later, I looked up at the others as I had been every so often and one of them stood up rapidly.
"What the fuck you lookin' at?" he grumbled at me, moving in my direction. The very large man sitting next to him was on his heels as they both came at me.
"Nothing!" I must have sounded like a scared little girl.
The first blow deflected off the top of my head as I cradled my face in my hands. Then I felt a few kicks which instinctively caused me to roll up in the fetal position. Blow after blow descended upon me as I tried to shield my most vulnerable body parts. The beating went on for several minutes with me crying out like a baby for help.
Just before I blacked out, I saw one of the other men, a giant of a fellow, fighting the two who'd attacked me.
I heard the rhythmic beeps before I felt the I.V. in my arm. A man, probably a doctor said my name. I grunted. My eyes hurt from the light - or the beating. Someone dressed as a nurse turned the little nozzle on the drip mechanism and I soon fell asleep.
Conscientiousness came and went for I didn't know how long. When I was awake everything hurt. Eventually, the pain lessened.
Then I met Felicia.
She stood patiently next to the doctor who'd become familiar to me by then. Dr. Smith told me I was in a private hospital in Kellogg, Idaho. He ran through a laundry list of my injuries, including cerebral edema, which had caused me to be in an induced coma for two weeks.
I first asked about Katie which made me realize I still had feelings for her. The doctor seemed reluctant to answer my question, as he looked at the black-haired beauty next to him. She nodded and he left. I just stared questioningly.
"Mr. Weston," she began, "My name is Melissa Maxim. I'm here..."
"Adopted?" I interrupted her, raising an eyebrow.
The woman was taken aback. I guess she must have thought I was still half-fuzzy.
"Excuse me," she replied, trying to maintain her decorum. "Adopted?"
"Yes," I stated. "There's no way a woman with your color of hair, eyes, or tan skin could have a name like that unless your name had been changed. Last name, maybe. First name, unlikely."
Her glare slowly turned to a smile. "Well, Mr. Weston, Andrew, it seems you are back to yourself and sharp as a tack I must say."
I shrugged. She studied my face for a moment, looking for something.
"Let's start again, shall we?" she seemed more amused. "My name is Felicia de Armonde. I'm your handler." She paused then, still regarding me.
"That sounds important," I tried to remain nonchalant. "Some secret position at Worldview?"
"I don't work for Worldview," she said. "Your wife, Katie, is alive and, for the moment, well. Fortunately, your accident and subsequent felonies were well documented. We were able to secure the contents of your vehicle so as far as the individuals at Worldview are concerned, you were just out for a leisurely drive."
"Who the fuck are you?" My anger swelled and I could feel the veins in my neck pumping blood. The room started spinning.
"Take it easy, Andrew," she ordered. "I'm here to help. You were brought here by an ambulance we commandeered after the altercation at the jail. We worked with the staff to ensure anonymity while you were recovering, both for your protection and for your wife's."
"You didn't answer my question," I growled. I needed to calm down or my blood pressure was going to kill me. The beeping of the heart monitor increased in tempo. "I don't know you and I don't trust you. I don't trust anyone."
A nurse, I hadn't even noticed entering the room, was adjusting the feed on my I.V. and that was the end of that.
The next time I awakened there was sunlight coming through the window. Felicity, or whoever she said she was, sat in a chair across from my bed, napping. I decided I didn't want her there.
There was a device in my right hand that I assumed was there to alert the nurse I needed something. When she arrived the woman in the chair woke up.
"Who is this person and why is she in my room?" I asked the nurse without looking at the woman. "I don't know her."
"It's alright, Mr. Weston," she spoke soothingly. "She brought you here - saved your life - in a way. The Doctor will be in momentarily."
The nurse wasn't going to help me. I couldn't help myself either, so I turned to the woman who remained seated.
"May I explain now?" she calmly asked. I nodded.
"As I told you last night," she started, "my name is Felicia. I have nothing to do with Worldview, in fact, quite the opposite."
"What, FBI?" I probed, "CIA?" Felicia gave a manly chuckle.
"No," she replied. "Not those guys either. You could say that we're the anti-Worldview. We bring... balance. That's the best I can do for now. We need you well and recovered. We need your help."
"My help?" it was my turn to laugh. "If you're who you elusively claim to be, you wouldn't need me."
"Ahh, but you're wrong," she exclaimed. "You have a certain skill. You've already used it against Worldview, twice, if I'm not mistaken. I think you underestimate yourself."
She knew a lot about me. I decided to keep her talking. "Where's my wife? Does she know about my condition; my accident?"
"Some of it," she told me. "She knows you were arrested for hit and run. That's about it at least as far as we know."
"I thought you were some secret organization," I mocked her on purpose. "How could you not know?"
"Andrew," she came and stood by me. "Your wife is still in grave danger as far as we can tell. The official police report and the newspaper say you escaped during a riot at the county jail and are still at large and extremely dangerous. As you've probably figured out by now, they control the narrative. But..." she paused, "they still don't know the purpose of your drive, unless your wife has told them, but as of our last report, it doesn't seem she has."
"You have some way to get that type of credible intel?" I needed to know that important fact.
"We do. We have people within and you're not the only person who knows how to get into their network." Felicia looked at me harder, studying my face and searching for something. "Of course, every day that you're missing changes things. What we can't determine is if the men who tried to kill you in that cell were a random act or paid by someone at Worldview."
"I couldn't say," I responded. "If that's what you're looking for, there was another man there... I'm pretty sure he saved my life."
"He did," She said matter-of-factly as her hard stare went away. "He's one of ours."
My nose itched then. Since my right arm was filled with all sorts of tubes, I went to use my left, only to find it handcuffed to the rail.
"A precaution," Felicia said. "We won't be needing that any longer." She freed me with a smile.
"I'm going to leave you for now," she stated. "Give you some time to think. Know this, Mr. Weston. This isn't some game. We need your commitment. I'll say again, your wife is in danger, and from what I've seen in your file, I'd bet that you still love her. We need to get you up and moving very soon."
I thought about it the entire time she was away. In terms of my decision, that took all of about five minutes. There'd be no trust forthcoming. I had a score to settle though and if I could get some help in that regard, I'd conspire with them.
Three days later, sore as I was, I was driven to a facility in Montana. Where in Montana, would be anyone's guess because my head was covered in a black linen bag for the last hour of the journey. My quarters were spacious and all my belongings from my car were there, including my music and the new laptop I'd purchased the day I'd walked out on Katie.
After a meal and being given an agenda for the next several days, I was introduced to a Japanese woman who was to be my physical therapist and overall mental health 'coach,' whatever that meant.
Felicia took me into what she called 'the hub,' a large central room that looked like a low-budget version of the Johnson Space Center - surveillance equipment and tech beyond my wildest desires. I wanted to ask her yet again, who the fuck they were, but I was starting to get an idea.
"Slightly more advanced than your money laundering activities?" Felicia asked with a cute little sideways smirk. So, they knew that I'd been playing with the company funds.
"I think it's about time you start explaining what this is about," I responded.
"Labels can be... confining," she said. "If there was a simple, one-word label for people like Mortimer Biggs, it would be 'globalist' but that's even a stretch, let alone accurate. We call them two-percenters. While you're moving pocket change to offshore accounts, Biggs and those in his circle launder money on a little different level."
"They're stealing money?" I asked. "From whom, exactly?"
"Everyone," Felicity motioned for me to take a seat. "They take over mining operations for precious metals from a government in central Africa. They help a moderate to get elected in Brazil in order to expand cattle ranching there. They get a conservative elected in Argentina so they can improve commerce with that beef, and they get a progressive elected here in the U.S. so their elitist friends can buy up farmland and ranches at record rates to make billions selling and marketing plant-based foods."
"That sounds like full vertical integration to me," I challenged. "Or smart business, if you prefer. Let's get to the part where they manipulate everyone's lives by stealing their money."
"If you believe that," she challenged right back, "we have much more to discuss than I thought." She sat down next to me and collected her thoughts. "They've manipulated yours and Katie's, right?
"Andrew, Worldview is one of several global corporations along with wealthy financiers we fight against. They control ninety-five percent of the real wealth on our planet."
"Okay," I'd previously read that crap and had enough for today. "So, I've been kidnapped by a bunch of conspiracy theorists. Great."
"And exactly what have you found in your great search of Worldview's files?" She leaned across me and picked up a file that she then handed to me. "Here's some reading for you tonight."
I took the file and started to open it but she gently put her hand on mine. "Everyone," she said more subdued, "you, me, all of us, we're simply a means to launder their money over and over again. We get a job and earn a paycheck, we launder their money. Our checks get automatically deposited in our bank account, we're laundering their money. The same thing when we go out and spend it. Every bit of interest we pay, every late fee, inflation - it's all so they can get a tiny bit more of the world's wealth. The vast majority of it has always belonged to them, at least since the end of World War II."
"Look," I wanted to poke holes in her... silliness. "I know first-hand what kind of assholes Biggs and Powers are. I've seen how they use their money and power to manipulate people and get what they want. What you're talking about is something so preposterous that I can't... I don't know, it's far too much to accept. Where are the good guys in all this and don't try to tell me it's you?"
"I won't," she was determined then. "We aren't any better, only a countermeasure. Biggs and Worldview just completed a merger with McMillin. That makes them the most powerful company on Earth, aside from Google. They operate in almost every country; they control the political landscape."
"Then, there's you," she continued. "Jack Powers takes your wife for a little two-year spin. He even plans on giving her back, not an attribute that he's all that used to. That's your concern. She even used what little influence she had with him to get his permission to have his child aborted."
I didn't agree with her but I was still without words and very tired of the pitiful looks.
"Tonight and for the next few days," she directed. "You're going to be learning about the real agenda of people like Biggs. Powers isn't any of our concern. As important as he is to Worldview, he's but a bit player. Tonight, your homework has to do with your mortgage."
"My mortgage?" I was dumbfounded.
"Yes. You're supposed to be buying your home from the bank, yes?" she sat confidently. I didn't answer except with a nod. "In that file is a copy of the Louisiana Purchase, the Homesteader Act, and the Repeal of the Homesteader Act. Tomorrow, you can tell me who really owns your home and everyone else's. That will be a start."
It was one heck of a start. I understood a great deal more about two percenters, starting with a discussion about land ownership the next morning and culminating in myths about food and climate by the week's end. I was starting to get a picture of elitist's power and influence.
The following week, I was put on a team. There were several other groups all working independently and focused on other two percenters, other finance moguls, and multi-billion dollar corporations. My group was a trio consisting of Richard and Brent.
Richard was far better than me at analyzing algorithms. If you could imagine a guy waiting at a trolley stop for a speeding streetcar reaching his hand out at just the right moment and then being pulled aboard, that was him.
Brent was a better hacker than me. He had a habit of cracking his knuckles right before he began making that keyboard sing.
I knew the file structure and the security redundancies that we'd built into the systems. I also knew where some of the bodies were buried by now. I'd been a bit busier than just stealing interest.
We made a great team and in three weeks, give or take, we had plenty. Plenty was a relative term. Not as in crimes, although what we'd discovered certainly were considered crimes. There wasn't anyone to report them to; no law enforcement agency that would take them to task. The idea that we could discover such nefarious and outlandish activities and still have no one to back us up was frightening beyond anything I'd ever experienced.
I also worried about the end game with these people. I had no idea what they'd do with the intel we'd gathered on Worldview - hell, I didn't know who 'they' were. That made me feel very vulnerable and expendable.
A week later I was checking my offshore account. I'd gotten close to half a million and was getting excited to pass that benchmark. To say I was shocked to find that the amount had been depleted to $151,000 would be an understatement. My astonishment quickly turned to panic.
I logged into my European email account to see if there was any explanation from the bank in Belize and masked as such was a personal message from Worldview. The name of the sender was hidden.
Mr. Weston, it appears you've committed embezzlement and due to the nature of how the funds were secured, you've opened yourself to several Federal Wire Fraud charges. As to where the funds were transferred, at least two charges of money laundering. Those charges carry concurrent twenty-year sentences if convicted. So you don't have to use a calculator, that's about one hundred fifty years of prison time.
Only because your wife has been invaluable to our corporation, are we willing to consider trying to arrange an agreement between our attorneys, the district attorney, and federal prosecutors on your behalf to perhaps lessen the damage to her family. Since we were able to recover a large portion of the funds, favorable outcomes may be open to you.
Call this number to arrange a meeting to turn yourself in as soon as you read this email. Failure to comply will negate this one-time offer.
It was signed by Mortimer and the CFO, Botswani, with an eight-hundred number below. My hands shook as I printed the email text and went to find Felicia.
"Well," she said condescendingly, "looks like your little nickel and dime operation poked the bear."
"They know where we are," I was still frantic. We've got to get out..."
"Andrew," she laughed out loud, "if they knew that we wouldn't be having this conversation. Calm down. We are perfectly safe for the moment. We need to discuss strategy."
"Strategy?" I said innocuously, "What strategy? I'm fucked."
"Not exactly," she said sitting down and motioning me to join her. She called across the room to a beautiful, sharply dressed assistant to bring us some water.
"I'll say again, Andrew," she commanded, "calm down. This is exactly what we wanted." I looked at her like she was crazy.
"It's why we allowed you to continue," she stated as if obvious. "We have what we need now and other than a few loose ends, we can put an end to the merger between Worldview and McMillin. You're going to help us with that."
"You set me up, you bitch," I snarled at her. "I'm packing what I need and I'm out of here in less than an hour. I'm not your scapegoat."
As I stood so did Felicia. She slapped me so hard in the face that it knocked me to one knee. My ear was ringing. I looked up at her in a defensive posture, preparing for me to stand. Instead, I stayed there. The hustle and bustle of the room had quieted to utter silence. I nervously laughed to break the tension.
When I looked back at her, she had one eyebrow raised, partly as if to say 'you want to go?' Or perhaps the look told me that she felt my wife, Katie, should have done that to me long ago.
"You don't care if they kill me, do you?" I questioned. "As long as you score some points in your secret war. Just another pawn, huh?"
"Hardly," she snickered like a man. "You've been at this for over a month with us. Why do I still need to explain to you?" She reached her arm out to help me up and I took it. After a moment of assessing my surroundings, I sat down at the small table and the good-looking woman set the water in front of me.
"Andrew," she said quickly, ready to speed-school me. "You've seen enough to understand. People die every day - sometimes hundreds per day - at the hands of these bastards. Africa, South America, Indonesia. Europe and here, too, people who get too close or stumble upon things. It's nothing new.
"People remember President Kennedy, of course," she continued. "They seem to forget about his brother and other people in his administration that had access to information, not to mention, the Kennedy women or anyone who may have had sloppy pillow talk. Fortunately for Jackie one of those powerful men fell in love with her and she married him to keep her remaining family safe."
I didn't want to hear her conspiracy theories if that's what they were. All the urban legends were out there on the internet. The number of people Richard Nixon and Hilary Clinton had offed when their secrets were discovered. Maybe she was going to spout on about the Illuminati. Her organization sure seemed to fit that bill to an extent. All I cared about was getting to Worldview. Hell, they'd probably killed people too, as Mortimer had alluded to. What I knew was what they did to me. Nothing else mattered to me.
I'd helped her group uncover enough evidence to prove these pricks were filthy rich and simply wanted to get even richer. Wasn't that the goal of every mega-corporation, to beat last year's numbers? The nefarious part was how they went about making their money. Slave labor in undeveloped countries, bought-and-paid-for politicians in numerous countries as well. Massive money transfers between competing corporations and collusion.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"You're going to respond to the email," she began. "You're going to agree to meet wherever they tell you. We're going to embed a small listening device under your hairline on the back of your neck. You're going to memorize the questions we want you to ask. You'll have two tails with you from the moment you leave this compound. If Biggs and Powers follow their usual pattern, they'll want to be there, face-to-face, when they try to kill you. Both of them will have tails, too. We expect your wife will also be present. Where she stands remains to be seen. Fortunately, we have someone deep inside Worldview. We will have the location well-staked out with plenty of firepower. Don't be disillusioned. I can't and I won't promise you will walk away from this. The situation will be very unpredictable. I believe with our careful planning your chances are better than seventy percent. If you throw your wife's life in the mix, then that number goes down to about sixty. It's still better than running your whole life and eventually making a mistake wherein they find you. I'll give you the night to sleep on it but not longer. I'm sorry, Andrew, but there's far more at stake than two people's lives."
I was royally screwed and I knew it. Defeatedly, I rose, headed to my quarters, stopped, and turned towards Felicia.
"What did you mean," I began to ask, "about where Katie stood?"
"That's the million-dollar question," she sighed. "Even with our spy inside, it's hard to determine. She's either pulling a 'Jackie Onassis' for your benefit or she's starting to develop real feelings for Jack Powers. Our source reports she's openly 'chummy' with him and she refers to you as 'estranged' to her office colleagues regarding your relationship."
There was plenty for me to consider that night and sleep was the last thing on my mind. I dozed off and on, considering different angles of my plight. This 'organization' cared as much for my well-being as Worldview and people like them.
Still, I'd missed Katie somehow. I knew I still loved her and I hoped her love was reciprocal. Without the rose-colored glasses, though, I had no way to be sure. All I had was a better than fifty percent chance of survival. The only question that mattered was, did I want to step into the spider's web or try to make another run for it? By morning, I'd decided no more running because regardless of what happened, it would be my only opportunity to face those bastards.
I memorized the rehearsed questions I was told. They were in a progressing order but Felicia told me that any or all of them were invaluable if I could get them to answer. Felicia made it crystal clear that Biggs was expecting that I'd been with them. There were only a few agencies that could have gotten me out of a county jail and secreted me off to some hospital. She explained how I'd be searched and how to act naturally.
Again, with the hood for twenty minutes. Once removed, Felicia gave me a set of car keys and a 'good luck'. The problem was, I didn't feel all that lucky. Two other cars pulled out of the dirt lot and followed at some distance. I crossed the Idaho border at the mountain apex and made my descent. At the bottom of the grade, two other nondescript vehicles pulled out onto the highway as I passed them. I'd been made.
One of the black sedans passed and pulled in front of me. The other boxed me in from behind. As we neared the rest area, the one up front slowed considerably and the other came ridiculously close to my rear end. I followed the lead car off the freeway and I was led to park as far away from other vehicles as possible. One well-dressed guy, really big, walked up to my window and motioned for me to exit. When I did, he walked me over to their car. This is it, I thought.
We made our way north, using the back roads along the river, and crossed back into Montana near Libby. Another twenty minutes down a narrow dirt road led us to a log cabin in the absolute middle of nowhere. If my tails had lost me then my last known position would be at the rest area. I hoped the other tails who'd followed my would-be tormentors had done their job.
I was roughly dragged out of the car which also dragged me out of my reverie. One of the men zip-tied my hands in front of me and I was led, nearly duck-walked, into the small cabin. They all stood there awaiting my arrival.
A roaring fire burned in the stone hearth. To the left was a large desk. Mortimer sat there but arose as I was brought in. To his right and behind him, stood Jack Powers and my wife, Katie. Sitting in an antique chair opposite the fireplace was Claire Eastmond, sales lady extraordinaire. The two men pushed me down hard in the wooden chair placed in the center room.
I stared hard at my wife before Mortimer Biggs even began his rant. At first, she wouldn't meet my gaze but my eyes burned holes through her and finally, she looked at me. When one knows someone as well as I knew Katie, there's very little that can be masked. She was afraid, terrified, if I had to bet.
She also retained the feelings she had for me before I walked out on her so that was in my favor, I thought. Beyond that, she seemed nervous or was she embarrassed? Maybe I didn't know her as well as I presumed to. Time would tell but based on the anger and evil smirks around the room, time seemed less of a luxury.
"Weston," Biggs said spitefully. "Finally. The big reveal." His old man's laugh was maniacal as he stood and moved to the right of the desk. Claire also stood and came closer to me but not too close. Powers stood next to Katie and had just moved his arm around her waist. The two men who'd brought me were directly behind my chair on the left and the right.
"What a pain in the ass you've been," Biggs continued. He was such a bag of bloated wind I just knew we were all about to endure some speech. "But no matter. I told you what would happen and here you are. Fitting that we're all together." He turned to smile at Jack and Katie. "Except like everything else in life, some things have changed."
I had no idea nor proclivity that my protectors were surrounding the cabin like a Mark Wahlberg movie. I stared at Katie searching for something - anything - from our past happy times. I didn't see much, except perhaps some faint pity mixed with fear. I wasn't about to give Biggs the satisfaction of getting the last word in, even if they were going to kill me.
"Fuck off, you fat pig," I spat. "I enjoyed fucking with you and your company. It's too bad I won't be around to watch the end of you - all of you."
Mortimer turned to look at Powers with a chuckle. "I'm glad to hear it young man," his tone cynical. "I'll bet you had a blast, thinking you were outsmarting someone. Let me tell you a little secret, Weston. After you hacked our system the first time when you thought you were so clever that we hired you, that wasn't our reason. We took a deep dive into you and Katie and realized we had something special."
He open hand waved at Katie. "Two orphans with the kinds of skills that would help our organization. No families to get in the way." Biggs looked back at me just like at the party a year ago, like Jekyll and Hyde. "We didn't need your fucking computer skills," his voice now glazed over in hatred. "We needed her!" Again, he waved in my wife's direction.
"All you had to do," he told me while pulling a gun from the desk drawer, "was play along but you couldn't do it even after I explained how affable we were being - how accommodating..."
"Letting that sonofabitch impregnate my wife?" I screamed, letting it all out. "You took everything from me! Go on - kill me! Your days are numbered, motherfucker."
Mortimer raised his pistol at me. "You led us straight to your insignificant band of do-gooders, Weston. I want you to know your final failure as you take your last breath." Alas, all those questions I'd memorized weren't going to get asked.
As Biggs pointed his weapon center mass, Katie moved with an agility I didn't know she possessed. She grabbed the heavy glass paperweight from the desk and smashed my would-be killer in the right temple with it. Everything after that was a blur as multiple split-second actions occurred.
Mortimer's pistol went off, as the side of his face was crushed. The bullet sped across my right shoulder, just missing me. I heard a thud behind me as Biggs dropped the gun and landed in a heap. The side of his head was caved in and blood poured from his right eye.
A commotion ensued to my left as Jack ran towards my wife. Claire Eastmond had a gun and fired it at goon number two. He'd fired a shot and hit Claire in the stomach. Her sidearm slid across the floor towards me.
In front of me, Powers wrestled Biggs' S&W away from Katie and pointed it at me with a delighted smirk. Claire had a second weapon, though. As I lifted the gun toward Powers, another shot rang out. Claire had blown Powers away in the nick of time. When I looked over at Claire, she smiled, although clearly in agonizing pain. Then her gaze went over my right shoulder. I turned with the gun to see Katie with Jack's trained on ME!
"Don't do it, Katie!" I ordered her. "Drop it!" I heard both shots as I closed my eyes and fired. Seconds later, I felt the excruciating pain in my right shoulder just before losing consciousness.
Thirty hours later, I woke up in a facility near the base I'd been at earlier. Surgery had been performed to remove the bullet. After some explanation from the site doctor, I was left with Felicity by my side.
"Katie?" My searching eyes had asked the question long before the words escaped my lips.
Felicia looked upon me with compassion and shook her head. Surprising myself, I began to break down. It wasn't a surprise that I still loved her because I knew I did. My bewilderment was because I didn't hate what she'd done as much as I'd anticipated.
I listened as Felicia recounted what happened that night but I already knew, or so I thought. The cabin was surrounded by her mercs and of course, they had someone on the inside. That one threw me for a loop as I would have never taken Claire for a mole. The final reveal was the hardest to take.
"One of the bodyguards lying there by Claire was able to get his second sidearm," she recounted. "He shot you, left-handed, due to his initial wound. That's why you took it in the shoulder instead of in the chest. You thought Katie was going to shoot you but she was aiming at him when all three of you fired."
I'd killed my wife while she saved my life.
Once I was mostly recovered, I informed Felicia that I'd be leaving. She didn't try to hold me against my will but she did explain in great detail how that would be a death sentence.
"Why not stay," she implored. "At least for a while. We still need someone like you and you'll be well paid, not to mention, looked after." Resisting my urges to move on, I did stay.
Hacking the rich and powerful became a high for me. I felt no guilt about surveilling them or stealing from them. What they did to get the money meant it didn't really belong to them in the first place.
McMillin had swallowed up Worldview, incorporated in reverse. Their game had always been the food supply giving them far more clout than the billionaire bank owners. Turning off ATMs, or locking down personal bank accounts, in places where the populous resisted was easy to do. Certainly, it created a hardship but all people need food and water. Money only mattered to those who couldn't hunt, fish, and build shelters.
"You can have all the money in the world," was Felicia's famous saying. "But if you can't control ten billion people, you won't have it long." It sounded good, yet the premise was flawed in my way of thinking. Still, I worked hard to pinpoint McMillin's transactions, crimes, and most importantly, how they moved large sums of money and where.
It was eleven months since my night at the cabin. I'd come to understand a great many things and I was thankful. Grateful was a better word. First, I finally knew how fortunate I was to be alive. These people could shoot someone in the head, in their own home, and get the county sheriff to call it suicide.
I also worked on other teams occasionally to surveil other mega-corps around the world. It was on one such project in that eleventh month that I was approached by Felicia.
"I need you to go to Budapest," she said like it was nothing. "I like your beard and we're going to color it and your hair a little darker. You'll meet with a team of two other people there to bug the hotel room of a French banker, Jean-Pierre Durand. He'll be attending the World Forum there next month. We have a mere three weeks to get you up to speed."
I arrived at the airport and headed to baggage claim. A man stood there holding up a fake, coded name that only I was to know. We drove to a nondescript hotel across town from the forum. When I walked into the room, I almost collapsed.
One of the two people in the room was Katie. Her hair was very short and it was blonde instead of brown. She'd put on about ten to fifteen pounds as well. It looked good on her. Tears ran down my face as the realization hit me. I was overwhelmed.
"Katie?" I could barely talk.
She smiled her best smile and after only a momentary hesitation, came to me in a full embrace. I heard a small guttural moan escape her. She had her moment at the same time I did. Finally, we broke the embrace and stared into each other's eyes.
"You shot me, you bastard!" she exclaimed, half sad, half laughing.
Our third retired to her room to give us some space. I was still too shocked to speak.
"I'm kidding," Katie said as if apologetic. "I'm over that."
"How?" I asked, still dumbfounded, "Why?"
"The 'how' is simpler," taking my hand and leading me to the sofa. "You thought I was aiming at you; that I was going to shoot you, so you shot me."
Now her smile disappeared as she became more solemn. "That fact did take me quite a while to get over." She squeezed my hand. "But we were pretty fucked up and I can imagine you were coming to terms with losing your life in that cabin."
I raised my eyebrow instead of restating my question. "The 'why' is trickier," she said with a grand sigh. "What Felicia may not have shared was that the cabin was surrounded by Worldview and Dominion mercs alike. We didn't hear the firefight outside because all their weapons had suppressors. Thirteen men died outside the cabin that night, eight of them were Worldview. I had no idea that Claire was on team Dominion."
"Dominion?" I asked stupidly. Katie looked perplexed.
"Yeah, you know," she surprisingly replied. "Who you work for?" Seeing the look on my face, she'd framed her answer in the form of a question. "You never knew the name of the organization you've been helping?"
"No, I didn't want to," I told her. "Didn't ask and they didn't tell."
Katie shook her head in disbelief. "I had a clean way out. If I wasn't there, Mortimer's associates would believe that I'd been disposed of before they dealt with you. My blood and DNA were scrubbed before the authorities were called. Felicia said she was sure others in McMillin knew what he and Powers were doing to me. You were the loose end. They expected that with you embezzling their money, somehow, Dominion had found and contacted you which would explain the massacre without my presence."
"Why keep it from me?" I emotionally asked. "Why would Felicia do that? She had to know how depressed I was at the fact I'd killed my wife."
"She did," Katie answered right away. "Your pain became hers. That's why we are here together now." She scooted a bit closer and held my hand even tighter. "When we're finished with this assignment, we can be free to move on. New identities, a new life, are what she's promised. Would you want that?"
I did want it, more than anything, but I was oh so very tired of being played. In an instant, I decided I couldn't live like that.
"I don't know," I said sadly. "I'm tired of this life. I'm tired of humanity. In my view, Dominion, or whatever they call themselves, are only the other side of the Worldview coin. I've lost faith in people."
"I can understand that," she said. "After all, we both spent so many years alone, even when we were in full foster homes. What will you do? Go and spend time with your foster parents?"
"Honestly," I told her the truth, "I'm not entirely sure."
"Well," she let go with one hand and put it against my cheek. "I'd like to be a part of your life if you'll let me. I miss you and I've come to recognize that I need you." She got up then and headed for the kitchen asking if I was hungry. She wasn't going to push it.
Jean-Pierre was about as wealthy as they come. We were scanned coming and going, posing as caterers at three events held within his one-hundred-forty-acre villa. The equipment we were trying to plant needed to be swapped out for something scanners wouldn't detect and that couldn't be found with a standard body search. It was the very last day before we could plant the listening devices.
Katie and I spent our nights talking about everything just like the old days. She never tried to make a move on me - sexually - not even a kiss. That struck me as odd, given our former relationship, but I also remembered that was exactly how we'd gotten started all those years ago. I was enjoying her company immensely and she seemed to feel the same way.
On the final night before we were to fly back to the States, I asked her. "Why did you say we were free to leave Dominion?" I asked. "Felicia nor anyone else have said a word to me."
"That's because I'm awaiting your answer," she responded with a faint smile. "Have you given my proposal any more thought?"
I had. "I don't think so," I lied. "I'm not sure we can get it back. I couldn't stand another failure, or rejection, or whatever."
"I know it's scary," she empathetically said. "I have my own apprehensions but I don't want to give up on us, not after all we've been through. Let me ask this - do you still love me?"
There it was. "Yes," was my one-word answer. "But we'll need more."
Katie pondered that statement. "Okay," she began, "So we both still have one key component. Can we build from there?"
"That's the million-dollar question, Katie," I shrugged. "I'd like to but it's going to take time."
Katie nodded. "I know that and I'm prepared to give you all the time you need. We're both going to need that grace." She took a deep breath.
"We're here together now," she held my face tightly and leaned in. "We're together and we're going to get home or we'll make a new one somewhere."
"I'm not sure I..." was all I got out.
"Stop it, Andy!" she whisper-shouted. "Look at me. I love you. I've always loved you. Remember, you and me against the world?"
"Yeah," I spat, "except you were also with him. I've seen the emails. You fucked him in our bed! How could you?"
"You know how." She said imploringly. "What choice did I have? You left me unattended and alone. What was I to do - refuse him?"
I was tired of the same old argument. I was tired of everything - so very tired. "You could have left with me, Katie. You could have believed in me, not taken the easy path. Let me ask you something else?"
I thought I knew the answer, was pretty sure of it, but I had to hear it from her mouth. "Did Powers ever rape you?"
Her first expression was one of confusion as if I was insane. Then, she seemed to be breaking down my question and finally, maybe even from my point of view. All that happened quickly and I saw her rapid eye movement, as she tried to formulate an answer.
"No," she stared right at me, rather than drop her head. "No, I suppose he didn't. Not by my husband's standards anyway."
"If they'd never have found me," I asked directly, "Would you have taken up with him?"
"Of course, I would have," she replied just as quickly. "I was trapped. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. Just because I wasn't willing to risk my life, it doesn't mean I cared for him in any way. From my point of view, he forced himself on me EVERY time. That's hard for you to understand because I didn't fight back."
There was a long silence as we collected our thoughts. She seemed faster.
"Andy," she started, "I understand we've been to hell and back. I also don't think we've lost love, at least in the abstract. To me, our issues revolve around respect and trust - mostly trust. You can tell me but I feel like you want to move forward with someone who will genuinely listen to you and validate your ideas or, at the bare minimum, voraciously and sincerely discuss them. I didn't do that when you almost begged me to leave with you. I thought I knew better.
"And while we're there, until that night at the O.K. Corral, I believed that I was right because I was higher up on the corporate ladder - closer to the action than you. It was only after that night that I realized that I'd let my pride lead my actions. Besides my own shortcomings and Powers' promises not to bad-mouth you, I fell into the trap of subconscious berating. You were no longer employed. You would eventually fold under the weight of a more powerful man. That sort of thing. Without knowing it, I was gradually devaluing you as my husband. That's something that hurts me most because I let it happen and I'd very much like the chance to set things right in that regard."
She'd given me a mouthful - a confession of sorts. I decided to be quiet and think carefully before speaking. The moment was too important to wing it.
"There's more than that, Katie," I said with a deep breath. "I was devalued, as you put it, from the moment of the party. You knew what was going to happen and, sure, you've said over and over you were trying to protect me, but it hurt that you didn't trust me enough to warn me - to give me a heads-up. We've always been a team. You need to acknowledge that was a shortcoming of yours as well. You need to admit it and promise to never shut me out of any decision again, no matter how big or small."
Katie didn't quickly agree to placate me. That was a good sign. "I thought I was doing the right thing," she softly replied.
"Maybe," I immediately responded. "But put yourself in my shoes. That's all you need to do to gain understanding. During our entire ordeal, I was never unreasonable, Katie, I just got fed up with your disrespect. We'd have a lot of repair work to do in our relationship. You just said it and you'd have to work on restoring respect and trust. If you can't commit to that, then we shouldn't waste our time."
"I do," she said, reaching for my hand again. "I will, and Andy, I'm eager to start. I expect it to be difficult at first and I'll understand when those negative feelings come up. I'll start by respecting that. Giving you space or building you up - things we always did for each other before Worldview."
I stared at her, into those eyes. "Where would we go?" I asked. I heard a slight noise behind me and there out of nowhere was Felicia. "Reykjavik," she answered for Katie holding out some official-looking documents. "You'll have to get a real job - we've already set some things up for you."
"No way, I'm finished with all of you people," I stated. "No more spying and espionage, or whatever all this is."
Felicia smiled brilliantly. "Of course, Andrew," she spoke softly. "This is a real job. Bustaoavegur 7 is there. CIPR oscillating IP addresses, the largest weather supercomputer on planet Earth, and seventeen research organizations studying the world's only active supervolcano. Lots of super stuff and plenty to do. If she likes, Katie can get a low-key job or start a family. Your salary will more than provide for the two of you.
>>>>
Everyone wants a happy ending and I would be among them most often. In fact, when Katie and I decided to resume our lives together, I thought we made the right decision.
The move to Iceland was seamless except for trying to get used to our environment. During those first few months, I was still having trouble in the bedroom but Katie was as patient as always, giving me plenty of space. When it hit me that trying to focus on unrelated sexual acts in my head, instead of thinking about me and Katie when we first started going out, things got better.
About five months after our move there were the best times. We'd explored the city and the surrounding mountains, finding plenty to do as a couple. We even started talking about children.
As they say, two steps forward and one step back. Our sixth month found me - melancholy. I couldn't put my finger on it. I tried to blame my new job but that wasn't it. I actually loved what I was doing and, yes, I worked for a research group studying the volcano.
At the same time, Katie, who'd been overly attentive since the day we got back together, seemed to feel like she could relax a bit. In truth, she'd been overly everything, trying to repair all the actual and perceived damage but she was tired.
From our seventh to eleventh month, we sort of wandered in and out of our love for each other. There wasn't a disconnect nor any of the signs that either was cheating. The best we could be described as was 'restless.' It took me that final month to work up the courage to talk about it, although after all we'd been through, I can't imagine why.
There were several troubling thoughts from the outset that weighed heavily on my mind and they were significant. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't bring myself to believe that Katie and Powers didn't have sex that first weekend in Belize. Without any proof to the contrary, I simply couldn't overlook the obvious. Powers, Biggs, and plenty of other execs saw themselves as untouchable, beyond reproach, and certainly unconcerned about consequences. Was it possible that Powers got off on the mind games as much as the act of sex? Sure. Could he have spent the weekend getting Katie in line? Possibly, but improbable. The real bugaboo was that Powers was so blatant that night at the awards banquet. I questioned that when he had her all to himself at last why wouldn't he indoctrinate her into his life immediately? To me, there was no downside to him fucking her all weekend if for nothing more than to get her hooked on the sex.
Some of the personal emails I'd uncovered also strongly suggested that many of the executives in Powers' position had 'shared' their PAs. One email, lacking specific language, alluded to a weekend getaway that could easily be interpreted as an orgy among seven execs and their assistants.
Knowing Katie as I did and given her admission that she would have kept with Powers if I hadn't resurfaced, told me that she walked a fine line. I couldn't deny that my wife prided herself on doing the right thing but given her shaky past, I also knew she was easily tempted by the finer things in life. I also knew her enough that she'd believe she could probably convince me of anything.
I'd given her plenty of time to address her feelings on all of those issues but her approach was to remain silent until asked. I'd determined I couldn't live like that. Sure, I'd gotten my revenge, in spades and with plenty of help. Biggs and Powers were dead. The corporate apple cart was upset and it would take time to right that ship. I also knew, given time, some other powerful assholes would slip in to fill the void and the party would resume.
So, I could enjoy some level of intimacy with my wife, safe in the knowledge that I'd triumphed and my dignity was intact. I felt like I'd overcome huge odds against and won, yet these doubts continued to nag at any sense of victory. I also felt that deep down, the woman I loved and knew so well no longer existed. For that matter, I am certain Katie wondered where the guy she had married had gone. She'd said as much the day I left her. Unfortunately, there was nothing we had shared or discussed that could overcome the ghosts. In many ways, I still loved her deeply and, perhaps in her own way, she thought she loved me, but the love was no longer enough. The foundation we'd started with had crumbled under the crushing weight of mistrust.
Katie beat me to it by three days. When I came home on a Wednesday after work, she already had my favorite drink ready and wanted me to come sit with her in our living room.
"I can't understand why for the life of me," she began, "but this isn't working the way I thought." A little tear escaped her eye even though she was trying hard to hold it back. I nodded in confirmation.
That gave her the courage to continue. "I'm at a loss as to what to do, Andy, but if this is as good as we're ever going to get, I think we both deserve something better." She paused, waiting for me to chime in.
"I don't know either," It was part lie, part honesty. "I've racked my brain trying to figure out what else could be wrong but like you, I'm at a loss. I'm afraid of losing you but at the same time, I don't want to hold either of us back from finding a happier life. I know I'm shortchanging both of us but I feel stuck."
We both agreed to put our best foot forward for the next week and talk every night. It didn't work. My apprehensions remained and I wasn't willing to push them aside. On Thursday night I handed Katie the journal she'd gotten for me back in the beginning.
"What's this?" she asked, taking the book reluctantly.
"You once accused me of not using it properly," I said. "Well, I listened. You say you can't understand what's happened to us. I think now would be a good time for you to read what I've written here. What I've been writing all this time."
After that week, I came home to a different scenario: Katie with her bags packed.
"I'm going back to Dominion," she stated flatly although I could tell she was heartbroken. She'd blamed herself just like I did. Nothing more needed to be said. We hugged each other tightly for a long time. Eventually, we heard the car honk, probably sent by Felicia. We parted with a promise to remain friends.
I married Martie, another tech nerd, two years later. We had two wonderful children during our first ten years and we're both extremely dedicated to each other and our family. Katie stopped answering my emails after I told her I was getting married, either out of respect or anguish. I lost track of her because, of course, we were still on the run in many respects. My new life has taught me many kinds of sparks light the fires of a mutually satisfying relationship, and my new wife assures me she'd quit her job, before ever allowing someone to get her in a situation like Katie did.
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