"The Coffee House Spy" 14

“Give us some answers and we may leave you in a nice place when we dump you.” Brent threatened with a cold smile.

“I’ve already told you I’m a bead in a chain and I have no names of the other beads. I get my assignment and I follow it, same as you.”

“Maybe, but you‘d have to know your direct contact; so who is it?” Brent questioned, growing tired of non-answers.

“I don’t have one; I drop what I’m asked for in a specific location and move on; that’s my job. I stay safer not knowing.”

Thies took his gun from his holster and began to play with it in a way that threatened the smart-aleck agent. “I think you’re lying,” he said matter-of-factly spinning the gun into a dead aim on fake, fat guy’s torso.

“Go ahead; dead men tell less,” the zip-tied agent taunted.

Brent gave Thies a nod imparting the fact that fake fat guy wasn’t wrong; they wouldn’t get anything out of a dead agent. “Forget it; he can stay tied up there for all I care, until we dump him somewhere.”

“Fine with me,” Thies agreed and holstered his gun, “How about some lunch?”

Stacy who’d stayed silent since the guy woke up, and stayed strategically behind him nodded to Thies and stealthily walked into the kitchen. She put her finger to her lips telling Emily to stay quiet. When Emily nodded her understanding, she whispered, “I’m going to make them some sandwiches and leave them here. Then we need to get you and Sir Harry out of here, over to my apartment next door. We’ll go up to your apartment by the fire escape then out to the hall and up to the roof. You can grab your packed suitcases and take them with us. Take whatever you need now, because I’m not sure when this will be over or when you can come back.”  

Emily’s eyes went wide. What did she mean she didn’t know when she could come back? She had a life, well semi-life here, and she didn’t like being told she couldn’t resume it. But with guns drawn in the other room she wasn’t about to argue her case. She nodded and mouthed the word “okay” and helped make the sandwiches.

Stacy placed the platter filled with overstuffed sandwiches on the counter and stepped to the kitchen’s doorway. Brent looked at her and she signaled she was leaving. Brent did a hand sweep through his hair signaling he understood.

Stacy walked over to the kitchen window and opened it and Sir Harry leaped out like a pro. Emily followed. Stacy stepped out last and closed the window behind them, thankful it hadn’t squeaked.

 

Brent tapped his gun on the coffee table gaining the zip-tied agent's attention. “Look, I’ve got no more time for this act of allegiance so either you start spilling information or we just unceremoniously leave you here without any means of communication.”

“Or clothes,” Thies added with a chuckle.

“Sure, or clothes,” Brent agreed, “And you can wait here until someone figures out where you are but we’ll be long gone by then, and I’ll have my plan in place with those I trust watching you.”

Zip-tied agent shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “I told you; I wasn’t given specifics just a cryptic set of instructions. I was told to follow you and then after you gave the dog to that girl, to follow her too. Then today I was told to drive to the warehouse and wait for you to leave but I got mixed up and followed the wrong car out of the lot. When I realized it wasn’t you I was told to get back here and find out if you’d taken something from your brother’s stuff at the warehouse; if you did, to get it back.”

“Who’s your contact; if you did find something?” Brent asked.

“No contact, no personal contact anyway but if I got something; I was to send a message and wait for instructions where to drop it.”

Thies gave Brent a smirk that told him it sounded legit to him but Brent frowned back; he didn’t want to believe it was. Whoever had made his brother go into hiding was now playing with him too. It didn’t sit well that he had no lead on who or why. But he had this agent all tied up, this agent should have been able to tell him something. It can’t be that he’s just a patsy. No, that didn’t sit well at all.

“How are you supposed to send that message; what’s the number?” Brent asked.

“I don’t have a number, yet. If I got something, I’m supposed to go to the coffee shop on tenth and leave a napkin with a triangle penned on it in the second stall in the men’s room taped to the ceiling.”

“Seriously…?” Brent gave him a strange look.

“Yeah, let me ask you…have you ever looked up at the ceiling in the men’s room?”

Thies chuckled, “I’m too busy reading the nasty notes scribbled on the wall.”

Brent had to admit it wasn’t in his memory to have looked up in the restroom so he had to grudgingly admit, the plan was probable. “Okay; so after you did that how long were you supposed to wait for instructions?”

“The next day I’d return to the coffee shop and-”

“What, you go back to the men’s room?” Brent interrupted.

“You’re catching on. Yes, there would be taped instructions on the ceiling.”

Thies stood up and holstered his gun and stepped next to Brent. “I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” Brent agreed with a grim look at zip-tied guy..

“This has been carefully plotted out and I’m beginning to think….”

“It’s a set-up?” Brent finished the thought.

Thies nodded but changed the subject and said louder, “I really do need some lunch.”

“Me too,” said zip-tied agent.

“Okay, we’ll get a few sandwiches in here but you better be ready to spill all you know or it may be way too easy for you to choke on ham,” Thies threatened then motioned for Brent to follow him into the kitchen.

They saw the plate of sandwiches already made and knew Stacy had bought them time.

“Look; I think he’s telling the truth but maybe not all he knows, yet.” Thies said.

“I agree; he may not be in on who or why but he’s got to have some idea of who’s pulling the strings. If Diamond was following us with him that means...”

“But what if he didn’t know Diamond was following us, or him?” Thies asked.

“I don’t know…that could mean Diamond was looking out for us.”

“Or making sure we didn’t capture his agent.” Thies added the second possibility.

“Too late for that…” Brent chuckled, “but I get your point. We can’t be sure of Diamond’s role in this, not without more evidence.”

“One thing is obvious; we have to shift our location and do it so they can’t follow us.” Thies warned.

“You have a way to do that?” Brent asked.

“I have a trusted ex-partner and yes; I think I have a plan.”

“So what should we do with our guest?”

“If he isn’t helpful…I say we dump him.” Thies said before he picked up a sandwich and took a large bite out of it.

*

Emily made it into her kitchen with Sir Harry leaping in behind her. Stacy carefully stepped in through the window and made sure no one was watching them as she closed it.

Emily turned to her and shook her head. “I don’t want to be a part of any of this; I’m not a spy. Can’t you tell someone I’m innocent and they can leave me alone?”

“I wish it were that simple and I know Brent is sorry he got you involved but it wasn’t intentional,” Stacy offered the facts but knew it wouldn’t ease her fear.

Emily looked at the pile of SHT manuscripts sitting on her counter and wished she could just sit down and tune out everything with a long boring edit of one of them. It had to be tragic when her job seemed like the best thing in her world; but it did. It was mundane and boring but it was safe. Before that encounter with Brent she’d had a rhythm to her days, her life was, if not exciting, predictable. This however, was anything but safe and predictable and she didn’t want to think about the worst case scenario of it.

Stacy saw Emily had zoned out and was staring at the counter in a trance. She gently nudged her shoulder gaining her attention. “Emily, I don’t want to rush you but if you need to grab anything other than what you’ve already packed, you should do it now. We need to get out of here.”

Emily felt numb but she managed a nod. She walked through her living room and into her bedroom where she pulled another bag from her closet and began to pack her personal things, her photo album, her journals and her favorite marking pen. If they did get her somewhere safe, maybe she could tune it all out by editing a nice long, boring SHT manuscript, and she’d need her favorite marking pen for that.

Emily had just closed the overstuffed bag when her phone rang.

Stacy peeked into the room and told her to check the number before she answered.

Emily looked at the screen of her cell phone and saw it was her boss.

“It’s my boss; I have to answer.”

Stacy nodded.

“Hi, Mr. Sheffield,” she said as brightly as she could and listened to his response before she replied, “Yes, I’ve finished the ones I have and I can bring them back-” she stopped in mid-sentence because Stacy was making frantic waving arms at her and watched her scribble a note. Stacy showed her the note and Emily didn’t realize she read it out loud into the phone. “I need to take a vacation?”

“You surprise me Emily; you haven’t asked for a vacation since you started here. So of course your due one. When do you want to start?”

“Uhhh…now?” She squeaked out, because Stacy had written “NOW!” in bold letters on the pad.

“It’s last minute but if you need a break, it’s fully comprehensible with the pace you’ve kept up. Can you bring in the manuscripts you have first and before I forget, the reason I’ve called you, is I have something here for you as well.”

“Yes of courses I can return them to the office…tomorrow.”

Stacy shook her head and wrote, TODAY!

“I mean…I can bring them by today…this afternoon.”

“Excellent; I’ll see you when you get here and I’m glad you’re taking time for yourself Emily; you need a relaxing vacation.”

“Yeah sure, a relaxing vacation. That’s exactly what I need.” She said but her boss didn’t hear the sarcasm in her voice. He said a pleasant, “Goodbye Emily,” which she followed with a whispered, “Hope not” but he’d already hung up and didn’t hear her fearful reply.

*

Zip-tied guy appreciated his hands being freed so he could eat a sandwich and enjoy a cool glass of ice tea. “You made this?” he asked his captors.

Stacy had made the pitcher of ice tea the other day and he hadn’t given it much thought when he brought it out to the coffee table.

“No, I have…a maid who likes it and she always leave me a pitcher full,” he improvised.

“Sure, you guys get paid enough to have maids,” zip-tied grumbled, “I can’t even afford an exterminator for the apartment sized roaches that take up my living space rent free.”

Thies shot a confused look to Brent, who had the same confused look on his face but it was Thies who questioned the statement.

“You don’t negotiate the cost of your…jobs?”

“Negotiate? I get an hourly rate and gas and possibly additional work if I do good…negotiate; you’re funny.”

“You don’t work full-time for the agency?”

“Yeah as if; I’m not on the books; I work for me,” he said pointing to his chest.

“How long have you been freelancing for the agency?”

“Look; I signed on to this without contact from anyone but it was made crystal clear that I wasn’t to know anyone’s name and I shouldn’t ask questions. I didn’t ask, so…I’m not giving mine or any personal info.” He folded his arms but then he unfolded them and grabbed another sandwich, “These are good…tell your maid she’s a keeper.”