"Thanks, mate,” Jake said with a slight smile. “With Jenny gone, the company took back the house, and I’m trying to land another job and get back on my feet.” Jake looked at Max hopefully. “I don’t suppose you know anybody who’s hiring?”
Max shook his head. “Not right off.”
“What kind of work do you do, Max?” Jake asked suddenly, and Max stiffened.
“I’m a pilot,” Max answered vaguely, using the cover story that the IMF had taught him to use when questioned. “Mostly freelance work.”
“Ever do anything top secret?” The question caught Max by surprise, and he cursed to himself, knowing Jake hadn’t missed the way he had flinched slightly.
“Sometimes,” the blond agent shrugged.
Jake held up his hand. “Say no more,” he grinned. “I wouldn’t want you to have to kill me.”
The small talk wore on for about half an hour longer. With each passing moment, Max grew more and more antsy. He still wasn’t sure how, or why, Jake had found him – all he’d said when asked was, “Everybody’s in the phone book, mate,” though Max was sure he was not. In addition, Max was hungry. He’d planned on grilling some steaks he’d purchased earlier in the day, but Jake’s unexpected arrival had put a monkey wrench in those plans. And he sure wasn’t going to start now, while his impromptu houseguest was still there, or else he knew he’d have to share his dinner, too.
Still, his old high school acquaintance was troubled and grieving the recent loss of his wife. Max felt sorry for him, and it was difficult for him just to put an abrupt end to the small talk. It felt wrong, somehow. Cold. Instead, Max continued to fidget and unconsciously glance at his watch every two or three minutes. Eventually, Jake noticed, and he stood up.
“Gosh, will you look at the time?” he commented, reflexively looking at his own wrist although he wasn’t wearing a watch. “I’d better get going. I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to me blab on and on.”
Max stood up as Jake started toward the door. Jake reached out to grip the blond agent’s hand in a firm shake, then impulsively threw his arms around Max in an awkward hug. Max stiffened at the unsolicited gesture, but Jake either failed to notice or didn’t care.
Once the embrace was broken, Jake stood close to the taller man. “Say, Max,” he said sadly, “do you know if there are any homeless shelters here in the Bay area?”
Max’s stomach lurched again. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any idea,” he answered, his voice equally sad.
Jake stared at Max for a long moment, as if expecting him to say something more. When Max remained quiet, he shrugged and sighed. “It’s okay,” he assured Max. “I’ll find one.”
“Good luck, Jake,” Max said sincerely.
Jake thumped Max’s shoulder fondly. “It was good to see you again, mate.” And with that, Jake smiled once more and made his exit. Max watched him go until he turned left toward town and disappeared.
Chapter 2
After Jake’s departure, Max set about grilling his steaks, then he sat down in front of the television with his hearty dinner to relax for the rest of the day, trying not to think about his unexpected visitor.
The sun had just begun to set when Max heard a shuffling noise coming from outside his apartment. He listened intently, and a few seconds later there were two distinct slapping sounds on his front door.
“Who’s there?” the blond asked, putting his food on the table beside him and rising to his feet. There was no answer.
Cautiously, Max walked to the door. He looked through the peephole, but he couldn’t see anything. He tried to open the door but met with some resistance. Puzzled, he pushed hard on the door, and it opened wide enough for Max to peep around it. He was shocked by what he saw.
A semi-conscious Jake Pearson was on his knees, with both palms resting against Max’s door.
“Jake!” Max exclaimed, as he rushed out the door and knelt by Jake’s side. “What happened to you?”
At first, all the other man could do was moan softly and occasionally call Max’s name. The blond agent looped Jake’s arm around his broad shoulders.
“Easy now. Come on,” he coaxed, as he pulled Jake to his feet and slowly helped him inside. He lowered Jake gently to the sofa, where he was finally able to take a good look at him. Jake’s face was bruised, and there was a nasty cut above his right eye. Both hands were bloody, and his knuckles were scraped.
“Sit tight,” Max urged, and he rushed to get a first aid kit. When he returned, he opened the kit and extracted a cotton swab and some antiseptic ointment.
“This may hurt a little,” he said softly, as he dabbed on the ointment and patched up the bloody cut. By the time Max was finished, Jake had returned to full consciousness.
“Thanks, pal,” he said quietly.
“You’re welcome,” Max answered. “What happened to you, anyway?”
“Well, I found a shelter,” Jake began, “but it was a pretty rough crowd. A couple of the men started trash talking me as soon as I got there. I tried to stick it out, but they attacked me.” Jake reached up to touch his temple, then winced in pain. “Whatever they hit me with, it sure did hurt.”
“Maybe you should see a doctor,” Max suggested, as he walked to the freezer, took out an icepack, and tossed it to his companion.
“No, I’ll be fine,” Jake assured him. “All I needed was to get out of there and find a friendly face.”
Suddenly, Jake’s eyes landed on Max’s partially-eaten plate of steak. “That looks fantastic,” he sighed. “I didn’t get to have any dinner.”
Reluctantly, Max took out another plate and divided what remained of his steak dinner with his acquaintance.
“Are you sure you don’t mind, Max?” Jake asked. “I hate to take your food.”
“It’s fine, Jake, eat up,” Max replied, forcing a smile. He looked out the window at the darkness and sighed to himself at his predicament. He couldn’t send Jake back to that shelter, not after what had happened to him there, and it was too late to try to find another one. He could suggest a hotel room, but he was sure that Jake didn’t have the money.
Jake noticed him looking and sighed heavily. “I don’t know where I’m going to stay tonight,” he said sadly.
Max knew there was only one choice. “Simple. You can stay in my guest room,” he replied, more breezily than he felt. “We can figure things out tomorrow.”
“I hate to impose,” Jake protested mildly.
“I insist.”
Jake’s face broke into a wide grin. “Thanks, mate. You always were a great guy.”
After a few more minutes of small talk, Jake finished his dinner and told Max that he was tired. Jake followed Max upstairs, where the blond prepared the guest room. Jake was asleep within moments. For Max, sleep would not come as easily.
Chapter 3
Max woke up from a hard, deep sleep – the kind that comes after collapsing from sheer exhaustion – and was vaguely aware of a pleasant aroma in the air. He fought off the last of the cobwebs, focusing on trying to figure out the source of the smell. Finally, he recognized it: coffee.
But how could that be?
Max puzzled over this for a moment, then he suddenly remembered. He hadn’t been alone in the house last night.
Max pulled back the covers, scooted his long legs off the bed, and trudged toward the stairs. He paused briefly to glance through the open door into the guest room, not surprised to find it already empty.
As Max entered the kitchen, Jake turned from the coffeepot and greeted the blond with a smile.
“Good morning, mate,” he said cheerily. “I hope you don’t mind that I made some coffee. How do you take yours?”
“Black, one sugar,” he answered absently, still not sure how he felt about this man who was practically a stranger taking over his kitchen.
Jake handed him the mug, and Max accepted it with thanks. He blew across the surface of the steaming drink, cooling it slightly, and took a single sip.
The sudden ringing of the telephone startled them both.
Jake took a step toward the phone. A brief flash of anger shot through Max as he scooped up the receiver before his companion could reach it.
“Hello?”
“Max,” came the familiar voice of his team leader. “We have a mission. Can you be here in an hour?”
“I, uh, might need a few extra minutes,” the blond agent replied, casting a wary eye toward Jake, who was listening and watching intently.
Jim glanced at his watch. It was barely nine in the morning. “All right,” he agreed. “Let’s make it ten-thirty.”
“That’ll be fine, Jim. I’ll see you then.”
“Who’s Jim?” Jake asked, as Max hung up the phone. Though the question was casual enough, Max felt as if he was prying, and it made him uncomfortable.
“Someone I work with,” he replied gruffly. “I have an out of town job, and I have to leave in an hour.”
Jake’s smile faded slightly. “Well, you can’t go without breakfast, mate,” he advised. “Why don’t you let me make you some?”
Max opened his mouth to protest, but realized he didn’t have the time to get sucked into an argument right now. “Sure,” he answered. “I’m going to take a shower.” And with that, Max left Jake in the kitchen and went back upstairs.
A few moments later, he emerged from the bathroom and found scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast waiting for him. He mumbled his thanks, and he and Jake ate quickly and in silence. Once Max was finished, he stood up and laid his dirty plate in the sink. He turned toward his companion and opened his mouth to say something, but Jake spoke first.
“Say, Max, I’ve been thinking,” he ventured. “I’ll bet you could use a roommate to keep this place picked up while you’re out working.”
“Jake,” said Max, his voice deliberately quiet, “you can’t stay here. I’m sorry.”
“But I’ll take care of things,” Jake assured him. “I’ll look for work while you’re gone, and then I can help pay the bills.” When Max remained stoic and continued to scowl at his acquaintance, Jake’s face fell. “I don’t have anywhere else to go,” he pouted.
Max fished into his back pocket, took out his wallet, and counted out several bills. “That should be enough to get you some food and a hotel room for a couple of days, until you can find a more permanent place to stay,” he told Jake, laying the bills down resolutely on the table. “I have to go now. And so do you.”
Jake stared at Max for several long seconds. Then, seeing that the blond was not wavering, he snatched up the bills. “Thanks for everything, mate,” he sneered condescendingly, putting emphasis on the final word. Then he turned and exited the front door.
Max grabbed his duffel bag and followed Jake out, making sure the door was securely locked behind him. He waited until Jake was out of sight before jumping into his sports car and heading for Jim’s condo.
Chapter 4
It was a long and grueling six-day mission. Max did his job with characteristic finesse, but seemed a bit distracted throughout. On a couple of occasions, Nicholas noticed and asked if anything was wrong, but Max dismissively assured his friend that everything was fine. There was no use opening up the discussion; Jake was gone.
When the debriefing was over, Max made a stop by the bank to deposit his paycheck, and then headed home. As he inserted his key into the door, an unsettling feeling made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Chalking it up to his previous encounter with his troubled classmate, he turned the knob and went inside.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Max became simultaneously aware of two things: an arm around his neck, effectively cutting off his ability to cry out, and a pistol shoved up against his left temple.
“Welcome home, mate.” Jake’s voice was cold, and Max recognized it instantly. “I missed you. Come, sit with me. Don’t make a sound, though, or I’ll blow you away.” Jake dragged Max to the nearby sofa and shoved him down onto it, then quickly sat down beside him, the gun still pointed at Max’s side.
Max said nothing, but his mind was racing. How did Jake get back inside the apartment? Why was he acting this way toward Max, who’d only tried to help him? What could he possibly want?
As Max contemplated making a move to subdue his companion, Jake spoke again. “So here’s what’s going to happen,” he said icily. “I’ve got some big plans, and you’re going to help me with them. You’re going to tell me what I need to know, without causing any problems. And, in return, I’ll let you live.” Jake laughed evilly, but never took his eyes off Max or loosened his grip on the gun. “We’ll start with the passcode to your bank account.”
Jake nodded toward the coffee table, where a pen and a notepad were laying. “Write it down.” Max hesitated, and Jake shoved the gun harder into his side. The blond agent winced and gasped audibly. “Trust me, I could blow your ass away right now and not think twice about it. Don’t tempt me. Do it now.”
Max begrudgingly wrote down the numbers. “Thank you.” Jake smiled through clenched teeth. “Now, you should rest. You must be tired from your long trip.”
In a flash, Jake reached into his back pocket with his free hand and retrieved a small object. He plunged it into the bigger man’s arm. Max felt the hard pinch as the needle punctured his skin, and then everything went black as his lifeless body fell onto the sofa.
Jake whipped out a pair of handcuffs from the waistband of his pants and snapped them on, subduing the unconscious blond’s hands behind him. “Just so you don’t try any funny stuff.”
*****
“Now, Mister Harte,” Jake said aloud as he walked over to Max’s phone and dialed a number, “let’s see how well off you really are.” He punched in the numbers that Max had given him, and then his eyes lit up as he listened to the figure disclosed by the automated service. “Not bad,” he said in appreciation. “Quite a lucrative occupation you have, Mister Freelance Pilot. It’s too bad I can’t trust you to take any more of these classified assignments. Can’t have you telling all your friends about me, and ruining all of my plans.”
Jake sat at Max’s desk for an untold amount of time, lost in his fantasy, when suddenly he was startled by the ringing of the doorbell. He tiptoed over to the front door and peered through the peephole. A dark-haired man was standing outside. Must be one of Max’s friends, Jake reasoned. Better to ignore him, he thought, given the blond’s current condition and position on the sofa near the door, as the bell rang a second time.
But as Jake continued to gaze through the peephole, he noticed the dark-haired man crouch down and begin to fish for something under the welcome mat. Damn, Jake cursed under his breath. This was obviously someone close enough to Max to know where the spare key was. There was no way around it; he was going to have to take care of this. If the visitor spotted Max, Jake’s whole plan could be in jeopardy.
*****
Nicholas pulled into the parking space adjacent to Max’s red sports car. He waited for a moment, half-expecting Max to be watching for him, since the two had made plans for dinner earlier in the day. When Max didn’t open the door, Nicholas got out and rang the doorbell. Once, then a second time.
Nicholas’ dark brow furrowed when Max still didn’t answer, or at least call out to let him know he was on his way. There was probably a reasonable explanation, Nicholas thought, but he couldn’t shake the strange feeling that something was amiss. After a few more seconds, curiosity got the better of him, and he dug for the spare key that he knew Max kept underneath the welcome mat.
Just as Nicholas started to insert the key, the front door opened a crack.
“Hey, there.” Standing inside the door was a wiry man, nearly as tall as Max but slimmer, with greasy brown hair and a wide grin.
“Hello,” said Nicholas, caught off guard by the stranger. “I’m looking for Max.”
“My name is Jake. Jake Smith,” replied the man. “I’m Max’s best friend from high school. I’m in town for a couple of days, and he’s letting me stay here.” Jake extended his hand, and Nicholas grasped it with slight hesitation.
“Nice to meet you, Jake. I’m Nicholas. Max and I work together.” Nicholas was surprised at not having been invited inside, and found himself trying to peer around the stranger and through the narrow opening for any signs of his friend. “Where is he, anyway? We were supposed to go to McGregor’s for dinner.”
“I’m afraid Max isn’t feeling well,” Jake answered sadly. “He said he had a headache and went to lie down. He did tell me if you came by to tell you he was sorry, but he’d have to take a raincheck on dinner tonight.”
“I’d like to see him,” said Nicholas anxiously, “just to make sure he’s okay. It’s not like him to be sick.” Besides, he was fine a couple of hours ago, Nicholas added to himself.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Nicholas,” Jake advised hastily. “Besides, I just checked on him. He’s fine. He’s sleeping. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to disturb him.”
Nicholas was bothered by the whole situation. Max had never mentioned a friend named Jake, much less that he was staying at the apartment with him. And the dark-haired agent was deeply worried about his friend. There was a part of him that wanted to burst in, overpower this guy, and demand to see Max. But the rational part of him thought better of it. If this guy could incapacitate Max somehow, Nicholas’ solo efforts would be futile. He would need help.
“No, I guess not,” he answered sadly. “Would you have him call me when he wakes up?”
“I sure will,” Jake replied, with exaggerated friendliness. “It was good to meet you, Nicholas.” And Jake closed the door in Nicholas’ face.
*****
Nicholas sat in his car for several moments, contemplating his encounter with the mysterious Jake Smith. His first thought was to rush back to his apartment, call Grant, and report what he had just witnessed.
But what, exactly, was that? An old friend of Max’s had answered the door, and he said that Max had a headache and was taking a nap. There was nothing obviously troubling about that – nothing except the nagging feeling in the pit of Nicholas’ stomach.
Nicholas sighed heavily. Jake said that he would have Max call when he woke up, so Nicholas would go home and wait for Max’s call. And if he didn’t hear from his blond friend by nightfall, three hours from now, he would come back and try again.
Chapter 5
As Max returned to consciousness, he felt the room spinning wildly. He groaned. Whatever was in that whiskey he’d had at McGregor’s with Nicholas must have been powerful stuff, he thought ruefully. After a moment or two, he cautiously opened his eyes once again, and found himself on the living room sofa. The room was still spinning, but not as wildly. This was good.
A quick glance at the window revealed that the sun had set. Max tried to move his arms to lift himself up, but realized that his hands were cuffed behind him. Suddenly, Max remembered that he had never made it to McGregor’s – that Jake Pearson had surprised him when he’d returned from the mission and had pulled a gun on him.
At that moment, Jake appeared in Max’s face, pointing the cocked pistol at his forehead. “Did you have a nice nap?” he sneered, as he gripped Max’s arm tightly with his free hand and jerked him roughly to a sitting position.
“Why are you doing this?” Max asked, wincing at the pain in his arm, his voice low and his words slightly slurred.
Jake ignored the question. “I met a friend of yours while you were sleeping. Nicholas, I think it was. Friendly bloke. Seems quite concerned about you. I suspect he’s the one ringing the phone off the hook for the past three hours.”
Max smiled slightly. “He won’t give up until he talks to me.”
“That’s why I’m going to let you talk to him,” Jake smiled. “But we have something to do first.”
As Max watched, Jake reached into his pocket and took out a disc-shaped object about the size of his palm. “See this?”
Fear gripped Max’s heart as he realized what it was: an improvised explosive device. An IED.
A bomb.
With the pistol still aimed squarely at Max’s forehead, Jake crouched slightly and placed the device under the sofa where Max was sitting. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small remote control.
“In just a moment, I’m going to uncuff you,” Jake growled. “You’re going to write exactly what I tell you, and then we’re going to wait for your friend Nicholas to show up. Try anything funny, and I’ll push this button, and one or both of you will be blown to bits.”
*****
Nicholas waited at his apartment for three hours. He dialed Max’s number periodically, but nobody ever answered. He chose not to leave any messages, because he didn’t want Jake Smith to hear them. Finally, as the sun began to set, Nicholas made up his mind: he was going to talk to Max, damn it, and Jake Smith was not going to stop him.
He pulled into the parking space in front of Max’s apartment and rang the doorbell. To his surprise, Max opened the door.
“Max!” he exclaimed. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, Nicholas,” Max answered, his voice slightly more subdued than usual. “Come in.”
“You had me worried,” Nicholas chided, as he sat down beside Max on the sofa. “I tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up, and you never called me back.”
“I had a hell of a headache,” Max told him. “I took some painkillers and went to sleep, and I’ve only just now woken up.”
Nicholas glanced around the apartment, suddenly realizing that there was no sign of the stranger who’d been there earlier in the day. “Where’s your friend?”
“Jake? He left me a note. Said he went out to grab some things at the store, and he’d be back in a couple of hours.” Max cringed internally at the lie. For, in reality, Jake was hidden in the closet directly to the right of them, waiting to make good on his threat if Max stepped out of line.
Max could see that Nicholas was about to say something else about Jake; judging by the look on his face, it probably wasn’t going to be anything positive. Max feared that Nicholas’ words might set Jake off, and hastened to put Jake’s plan into action.
“Look, Nicholas, would you do me a favor?” he asked, running his hand through his blond hair.
“Of course, Max, name it.”
Max handed his friend a piece of paper. “Could you give this to Jim for me?”
Nicholas took the paper from Max’s hand and slowly read over it. A chill ran up his spine. “Max,” he gasped, “this is a resignation letter.”
“I know,” stated the blond agent.
Nicholas threw the paper back at his friend, a look of disgust on his face. “I’m not letting you do this.”
“It isn’t your choice, Nicholas,” Max countered, his voice urgent but deliberately calm.
“Then why, Max?” Nicholas demanded. “What have we done to you?”
“Nothing,” Max assured him. “It’s just that I’m….I’m moving away.”
“What?” cried Nicholas, shaken by this second round of unsettling news. “To where?”
Max stared down at his hands in order to avoid his friend’s gaze. “I’m going back to Australia.”
Nicholas’ breath shut off in his chest for a full three seconds. When he finally caught it again, he grabbed Max’s arm tightly. “Max, you can’t be serious!” he exclaimed. “I know there’s more to what’s going on here, and I’ll bet it has something to do with that friend of yours, doesn’t it?”
“You need to leave now, Nicholas,” Max urged, shrugging out of his friend’s grasp and trying to hide the panic in his voice.
“Not until you tell me what the hell is really going on,” vowed Nicholas.
“You want the truth?” Max asked, feeling himself growing increasingly desperate to get Nicholas safely out of the apartment before Jae lost his temper and pushed the button. “All right, Nicholas. The truth is, I’ve had it up to here with the team, and with you, and I don’t ever want to see you or any of the others again!”
Max stood up, and Nicholas followed suit.
“I don’t believe that, Max! Talk to me!” he urged, reaching again for Max’s arm and squeezing it tightly.
“Let go of me!” Max yelled, impulsively drawing back his fist.
Though Max stopped himself before throwing the punch, the damage was done. Crestfallen, Nicholas released Max’s arm.
“If that’s how you really feel about it, Max,” he said quietly.
The dark-haired agent picked up Max’s letter of resignation and looked into his blue eyes one last time. “It’s been nice knowing you,” he said in a half-whisper, his eyes moist. “I’ll see myself out.”
Max watched as his former friend disappeared through the front door, closing it behind him. A moment later, he listened to the sound of Nicholas’ BMW fading into the night.
As soon as the engine roar dissipated into silence, Jake popped out of the closet. “What a performance, Max!” he praised, grinning widely. “I thought for a moment I was going to have to try out my little invention. But your friend gets to live another day. Of course, he’ll never speak to you again, but at least he’s still alive.”
Jake peered into the sad eyes of his hostage, who was completely defeated. Max had given up his job and lost one of his closest friends, with the rest of them soon to follow. In his current state of mind, Max couldn’t have cared less if Jake had just killed him outright. There was nothing else to live for.
“There, there,” Jake soothed condescendingly. “This evening has clearly been too much for you, Max. You need some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”
Max didn’t even attempt to fight the needle as it plunged deep into his skin. Again, he collapsed onto the sofa in sweet oblivion, and again, Jake left him right where he lay.
Chapter 6
It was nearly eleven o’clock by the time Nicholas arrived home. He went inside and plopped down in his recliner. There was no point in going upstairs – sleep wasn’t coming tonight – but he didn’t wish to bother Jim this late in the evening. Instead, he sat there, lost in his thoughts about Max.
His blond friend – former friend, Nicholas reminded himself – had been distracted throughout the mission. Nicholas could sense it, though Max had never explained why. Nicholas was more convinced now than ever that Max’s so-called friend Jake Smith had something to do with it. He wanted desperately to believe that Max hadn’t wanted to submit his resignation, that he’d been somehow forced to do so. More than that, Nicholas wanted to believe that he hadn’t meant what he’d said about never wanting to see him again.
But if it had been Jake Smith’s idea, then why didn’t Max say something this evening, when Jake was away? It would have been the perfect opportunity. Then, at least, Nicholas would know, and he and the team could do something to help. Was it possible that he really did feel that way, and that he would soon be leaving San Francisco forever and going halfway around the world?
Nicholas contemplated these feelings until the sun began to peep over the horizon the next morning. Then he got back into his car and headed for Jim’s condo.
*****
Nicholas parked at Jim’s front door and got out of the car, with Max’s resignation letter in his hand. He rang the doorbell somewhat reluctantly; he wasn’t even sure that Jim would be out of bed this early in the morning. But he couldn’t bear waiting any longer.
A few moments later, the door opened. “Nicholas,” Jim greeted, “what are you doing here? And at this hour?”
“I’m sorry to bother you so early, Jim,” Nicholas answered softly, “but I have something for you.”
Jim took the piece of paper out of his teammate’s hand. He turned around, walking back inside as he read. Nicholas accepted the unspoken invitation and followed him in. When Jim had finished reading, he looked up at the dark-haired agent.
“Max gave you this?”
“Last night,” Nicholas nodded, “when I went to see him.”
Jim gazed at his teammate’s uncharacteristically disheveled appearance and troubled features, knowing instinctively that there was more to the story. “Tell me what happened,” he said gently.
Nicholas recounted the events of the previous evening while Jim listened intently. When he was finished, the elder agent sighed heavily. “What do you think this is all about?”
“I’m really not sure,” Nicholas replied honestly. “I don’t trust Jake Smith, and part of me thinks that he is behind all of this. But he was gone when I went back to Max’s place late last night. Max had every opportunity to tell me the truth, but he didn’t.” Nicholas shook his head sadly. “I just find it hard to believe that in one afternoon, Max would decide to quit the team, sever ties with all of us, and move eight thousand miles away. I can’t accept it.”
“Then trust your instinct,” Jim advised, laying a fatherly hand on Nicholas’ shoulder while rising to his feet. “I’ll call Grant and Shannon. We need to find out more about this Jake Smith.”
*****
Jim’s phone call had been vague, but had caused enough alarm that both Grant and Shannon had arrived within the hour. Then, Nicholas told his story again, and Grant quickly booted up his laptop and punched in Jake Smith’s name. His brow furrowed.
“That’s odd.”
“What’s odd?” Nicholas asked, peering over Grant’s shoulder.
“There are dozens of people in this database with the name Jake or Jacob Smith,” he answered, “but none of them are the right age to have gone to high school with Max.”
“Well, ‘Smith’ is one of those names,” offered Shannon. “Maybe he changed it.”
“Maybe. But he could have kept his first name. I wonder how many guys named ‘Jake’ went to Max’s school,” mused Grant. As the other team members watched anxiously, Grant hacked into the student files of Max’s old high school, from his own class as well as two classes on either side of it. It was a short list, with only five students matching the name ‘Jake’ or ‘Jacob.’ Grant moved to a different screen, where the five photos were displayed in larger view. The computer whiz turned to look at Nicholas for any signs of recognition, but before he could even ask the question, the dark-haired agent pointed eagerly at the third photo on the screen.
“That’s him,” he said emphatically.
“You’re sure?” asked Jim.
“Positive,” Nicholas responded, more pensively, as he took a moment to study the youth’s features. “He has the same greasy brown hair. His face is more slender, the eyes not as bright, but that’s the man. I’d swear to it.”
“Jacob Pearson,” confirmed Grant. “Part of Max’s class. Or would have been, at least.”
“Would have been?” echoed Jim.
“Apparently, he got in some trouble as a youth. Finished school in an alternative setting,” Grant replied. “There’s a sealed juvenile record on him. I can get in, but it’ll take a moment.”
Grant’s three teammates watched in silence as his keystrokes took him from screen to screen. Finally, a file opened, and Grant whistled. “Jacob Pearson was quite a bad boy,” he advised. “Multiple charges of drug possession, theft, and reckless driving, dating from when he was fifteen years old. He spent a lot of time in detention. Released when he turned eighteen.”
“And since?” asked Nicholas.
Grant punched a few more keystrokes, then sucked in his breath. “I don’t believe it,” he said incredulously. “Pearson joined the Air Force at age twenty. Special Forces.”
“How?”
“His juvenile records were sealed by a circuit court judge, Shannon,” answered Jim. “The military would have had no knowledge of them.”
“He was there for three years,” Grant read on. “Recurrent mental health issues throughout that didn’t respond to treatment. Ultimately received a dishonorable discharge due to illegal drug use while on duty.” Grant punched another key and pulled up a newspaper article, skimming its contents briefly. “Oh, my God.”
“What is it, Grant?” Shannon demanded.
“Jacob Pearson died in a car crash ten years ago,” Grant answered in a half-whisper, ”just after his discharge from the Air Force.” As the others gathered around once again, his eyes continued to skim the article. “Says here he was a person of interest in a murder-kidnapping here in the Bay area. Allegedly, he murdered Jenny Malone and took her husband, Mark, hostage. A high-speed chase followed. The car went into the Bay. Malone managed to escape. Pearson was trapped in the car and drowned.”
“Did they recover the body?” asked Nicholas, playing a hunch.
Grant shook his head. “By the time the divers got to it, he was shark bait.”
“What happened to Malone?” asked Jim.
“His wife was a rising star in information technology,” Grant replied. “They were living in a home owned by her company, which was so saddened by her murder that they allowed Malone to live there, rent free. And so he did, taking a sales job here and there but mostly living off her two million dollar life insurance proceeds.” Grant sighed and looked up at Jim. “Last month, the company declared bankruptcy and the house was put up for sale.”
“So Mark Malone found himself homeless,” mused Nicholas, his mind racing. “Say, Grant, I don’t suppose you have a photo of Malone in those files, do you?”
Grant hit a few keystrokes, and a photograph emerged which caused all four agents to suck their breaths in sharply. The resemblance between the two men was so profound that Mark Malone could have been Jake Smith’s brother.
“Grant,” Nicholas suggested excitedly, “what if Mark Malone actually died in that crash, and Jacob Pearson assumed his identity? And what if he’s now trying to do the same to Max?”
Jim held up his hand. “That’s quite a stretch, Nicholas.”
“Think about it, Jim,” Nicholas insisted, as he stood up and began to pace. “It makes sense. With no job, no friends, and halfway around the world in Australia, there’d be nobody to go looking for Max. Pearson would have a new name and a clean slate. And Pearson looks enough like Max that, under the right circumstances, he could pull off an identity switch.” Nicholas stopped and looked his team leader dead in the eyes. “Jim, we have to stop this guy before anything happens to Max.”
Jim and the others continued to stare blankly at Nicholas while they processed this new theory. Seconds ticked by. “Please, Jim,” Nicholas begged again. “Max is in danger. I’m sure of it.”
Jim sighed heavily. “Well, if Pearson is planning something, I’m sure he needs money.” He stood up and walked toward the telephone. As he picked up the receiver, he looked at Nicholas thoughtfully. “I’ll make a call, with an offer he can’t refuse. If Max shows up by himself, we will get some answers. If he shows up with Pearson, then we will know he’s in trouble.”
Chapter 7
Jake normally didn’t sleep much at night, and this night was no exception. Instead, he scurried around Max’s apartment, wrapping up loose ends and getting rid of any obvious evidence he could find. He barely noticed when the sun came up the next morning, but suddenly he was surprised by the ringing telephone. Jake let the answering machine take the call, but he lingered by the phone curiously.
“Max, it’s Jim. I was calling to tell you that you have a fifty thousand dollar bonus from our last assignment that was accidentally left off your paycheck. I, uh, received your resignation letter and all, but this money is still yours. Just come by before you leave and I’ll give it to you. Thanks.”
Jake’s face lit up with lustful anticipation. Fifty thousand dollars was a lot of money. His other plans could wait a few hours, he thought. He looked at his watch, realizing that it was time for the sedative in Max’s system to wear off. He walked over to the sofa and violently shook the blond.
“Hey, mate, wake up!” he yelled in Max’s ear. Max stirred slowly, and Jake shook him even harder. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty! You still have one more job to do.”
Max was still not quite fully awake when Jake jerked him to his feet, once again aiming the pistol firmly at his head, and ushered him toward the bathroom. He padlocked the door from the outside. “There’s a change of clothes in there. Make sure you look nice, now. We’re going to see your boss. Well, uh, former boss.”
Max was still a little lightheaded and his vision was blurry, but as he got dressed, he felt a tiny sliver of hope. He knew that Jim had already received the resignation letter Jake had forced him to write, and after the way he’d talked to Nicholas, Max had assumed that the team wanted nothing more to do with him. He didn’t yet know why they were going to see Jim, but he prayed that somehow this meant that his friends were up to something.
Finally, Max signaled that he was ready, and as Jake opened the bathroom door, he buried the barrel of the gun into Max’s side. “Let’s go. You’re driving.”
As Max sat down in the driver’s seat of his red sports car and fastened his seat belt, Jake reached into his pocket and took out the same remote control that Max had seen earlier.
“Remember this?” Jake asked smugly. “Since we’re going to see Jim, I figured it would draw too much attention to keep a gun aimed at you. So, while you were dressing, I took the bomb that was hidden under the sofa last night and put it under your seat.” Jake slowly uncocked the pistol and stuck it into his left jacket pocket. “Try anything funny, and I push the button.” He put his hand and the remote control back into his right jacket pocket. “Now, drive.”
*****
Jim was sitting in his chair, looking out the window, when he saw Max’s car drive up. Max gave two short toots on the car horn, and the elder agent walked outside. Right away, Jim noticed that Max was not alone in the car.
The team leader bent down and peered into the driver’s side window. “Hey, Max,” he greeted, handing him a paper check. “I’m sorry you didn’t get this yesterday.”
“It’s all right, Jim,” Max said reassuringly, as Jim pretended to notice the right-side passenger for the first time. “Hi, I’m Jim,” he said by way of introduction, reaching for Jake’s hand.
“Jake,” the other man answered simply, returning the gesture. “I’m a friend of Max’s.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jim smiled. Then, he looked back at Max and sighed heavily. “So, this is it, then? Are you sure I can’t change your mind about leaving?”
“I’m sure,” Max answered quietly. “I just want to go back home.”
“I understand,” said the elder agent. “Best of luck to you.” Jim reached out his hand, and Max caught it in a firmer-than-usual grasp and held on, his ice blue eyes boring into Jim’s for a long moment.
“Thanks again, Jim,” he finally said, smiling slightly, as he released Jim’s hand and drove away.
As soon as they were out of sight, Jim keyed his communicator. “Nicholas,” he said, “I think you were right. Jake is with Max, and they’re headed your way.”
“We’re all in position, Jim,” came the tense reply. “We’re ready.”
*****
Max pulled his sports car into the parking lot of the bank where he conducted his business. “Drive through window,” barked Jake, not wishing to have to get out of the car, and Max obliged.
From his sedan across the parking lot, Nicholas spotted the little red car. Instantly he keyed his communicator to alert the others. “They’re here.”
As Max drove to the back of the building, he was only mildly surprised to see that the large window shade was pulled down. “It’s closed,” he remarked.
“Damn,” cursed Jake aloud.
“The lobby seems to be open,” offered Max.
“I guess we’ll have to go inside, then,” conceded Jake.
Max parked the car a few feet from the front entrance and turned the engine off. Before he could reach for the door handle, his captor turned and looked him coldly in the eyes.
“Remember, mate,” he warned, reaching into the pocket that held the small black pistol with his left hand. Max heard the telltale click of the gun being cocked. “I’m still going to have this gun on you at all times. Go in, cash the check, and then back out again. No funny stuff. Understand?”
Max nodded, swallowing hard, as he slowly exited the vehicle. Jake, hand still in his pocket, walked a step behind and slightly to the right of him.
“They’re coming in,” said Nicholas nervously. “I think Jake is armed.”
The bank was nearly devoid of people. Max and Jake could see only two people. Shannon was in position as a bank teller, and Grant was standing off to their right, ostensibly waiting to meet with someone. Jake smiled to himself. At least they wouldn’t attract a lot of attention, and the transaction should be brief since Max already had a large personal account here.
“Hello. May I help you?” asked Shannon with a smile as the two men walked up to the counter.
“I need to cash this, please,” Max said quietly, as he flipped the check over and endorsed the back of it.
“May I see some identification, please?” she asked.
Max reached slowly into his back pocket, retrieved his wallet, took out his driver’s license, and handed it to Shannon. Jake watched his every move, never taking his eyes off Max.
Suddenly, Jake stiffened, and then crumpled to the floor. Max turned to his right at the movement. Grant was putting away his dart gun, and two uniformed police officers were approaching Jake at a rapid clip from the bank entrance.
Max, suddenly overwhelmed, sank to his knees. Immediately, Shannon darted around the counter and crouched beside him, placing her hand on his broad shoulder. “Max! Are you all right?”
“It’s finally over,” Max whispered softly, melting into Shannon’s waiting arms. She held him tightly for a moment, as she watched Officer Todd Spencer extricate the unconscious Jake Pearson’s hands from his jacket pockets and handcuff them behind his back. He then reached in Pearson’s left pocket, grasped the edge of the trigger guard, and gingerly pulled out the pistol. He placed it in a plastic evidence bag, which his partner was holding.
Shannon clung to Max as he got to his feet, at the same time as Nicholas entered the bank. The dark-haired agent dashed to Max’s side, sighing heavily and smiling slightly at his blond friend. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”
“Nicholas, I’m sorry-“
Nicholas held up his hand in silent interruption. “It’s okay. We can talk later,” he promised.
Meanwhile, Todd and his partner pulled the now semi-conscious Jake Pearson to his feet. “Time to take this joker downtown,” he said.
Suddenly, Max remembered something. “Wait!”
Todd looked at him in surprise. “What is it?”
“His right jacket pocket,” Max answered. “But be careful.”
While his partner steadied the prisoner, the officer carefully reached into his pocket and extracted a small remote control. Everyone looked at it quizzically.
“What the hell is that for?” Grant demanded.
“It controls the bomb,” Max answered, his voice low, “under my driver’s seat.”
There were gasps from everyone in the room. Todd’s eyes narrowed. “Max,” he said sternly, “we are going to need to impound your car while we collect evidence.”
Max nodded his understanding. “He can ride with me,” Nicholas offered quickly, and Max smiled in appreciation.
“We’re also going to need for you to come down to the station so we can take your statement,” the officer continued.
“I’ll be happy to,” Max replied. “Can I have just a moment?”
“Of course. I’ll see you in a little bit.” And with that, officer Todd Spencer and his partner half-carried, half-dragged the prisoner outside, stuffed him into his patrol car, and headed toward the police station.
Max smiled at his three teammates, his blue eyes sparkling. “I don’t know how to thank you guys.”
“The fact that you’re safe is all the thanks we need,” said Shannon, returning Max’s smile.
Grant’s face also broke into a wide grin. “C’mere, partner.” And he grabbed Max into a bear hug, thumping his back with enthusiasm. Then, Max threw one arm around Shannon and the other around Nicholas, and together they walked outside. Jim, having just pulled up, was waiting in the black Land Rover.
“We’ll meet you guys at the station,” Grant promised. He and Shannon piled into the Land Rover with Jim, while Max folded his long legs into the passenger seat of Nicholas’ BMW. As they pulled away, they could see all of the real bank employees walking back toward the building, after having been given the signal that it was safe to return.
*****
Almost as soon as they pulled out of the bank parking lot, Max turned to his friend. “Nicholas, about what I said last night-“
“It’s okay, Max,” Nicholas interrupted.
“No, it isn’t,” Max disagreed. “I said some hurtful things. And I almost hit you.”
“I know you didn’t mean any of it, Max,” Nicholas assured him. “I’m sure it was all Jake Pearson’s doing.”
“He was there, you know,” the blond murmured, his voice barely audible and filled with guilt for having lied to his friend, “hiding in the closet, listening. That bomb in my car was under the couch last night.” Max shuddered at the memory. “I was afraid he would kill you.”
“Or both of us,” Nicholas mused in the same tone, himself shaken by the revelation.
“Can you forgive me?”
“Of course, Max,” Nicholas responded sincerely. He took his right hand off the steering wheel and placed it on Max’s shoulder. “I can’t even begin to imagine the hell you’ve been through,” he said, his voice filled with empathy. “I’m glad you’re still here.”
“I’m glad you’re still my friend,” Max countered.
Nicholas grinned broadly. “Always.”
And so, with their friendship renewed, the two men finished their ride in contented silence.
Chapter 8
Officer Todd Spencer was no stranger to the five members of the IM team. He had been a friend of Grant’s for years, and had worked with the team twice before when they had needed assistance from local law enforcement. Though he wasn’t always sure about the exact nature of their work, he knew not to ask any questions, and the team trusted him implicitly. Since he was the lead investigator on the case, the young officer was able to grant permission for Max’s four curious teammates and friends to observe his interview from a conference room on the other side of a one-way mirror.
Officer Spencer and the others listened intently as Max talked about the nature of his relationship with Jake in high school. They heard about Jake’s initial visit: how it had seemed innocent at first, but had quickly become an unwelcome intrusion into Max’s life. They gasped in horror and sympathy as they listened to the way things had taken a violent turn when Max returned home from their latest assignment. When the interview was finally over, Max and the officer joined the others in the conference room.
“My partner and I will be following up on some of the things you’ve told me,” Todd advised Max, “including gathering evidence that Pearson left inside your apartment. So I’m afraid you’ll need to find a temporary home for a few days.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Nicholas assured him, and Max cast a grateful smile at his friend.
“We still have a few unanswered questions,” the officer continued, “and Pearson isn’t talking. But there are some things we are pretty sure of, thanks to what we learned from Grant’s research.” He smiled appreciatively at his old friend. “For example, the story that Pearson told you about his wife, Jenny, was a lie. We believe that ten years ago, Pearson actually murdered Jenny and her husband, then faked his own death and stole the husband’s identity.”
“And that he was planning on doing the same thing to you, Max,” Nicholas said quietly, shuddering slightly at the idea. “He had plenty of time to gather up all of your identifying information while we were out of town, and I bet the police will find Pearson’s fingerprints all over it.”
“I just don’t understand why he chose me in the first place. It’s not like we were great friends in high school.”
“I think that’s exactly why he chose you, Max,” Jim suggested. “He was jealous. He wanted to be everything you were, but he just couldn’t keep himself out of trouble.”
“Of course, you got some positive attention after rescuing your brother in Vietnam,” added Grant. “Shortly after that, Pearson took advantage of his sealed juvenile records to enlist in the Special Forces.” Grant looked at Max, and his voice dropped to a half-whisper. “That’s where he got his training on building explosives.”
Max nodded. “That makes sense,” he agreed. “What doesn’t make sense is how he found me.”
“We don’t know for sure,” answered Jim, “but we suspect he made contact with you at one of the sales job that he took while living as Mark Malone. We think that he remembered you from high school and decided that you would be his next victim.”
“There’s one more thing, Max,” Officer Spencer advised. “Since Pearson injected you twice with sedatives, we’d like for you to go to the hospital to be checked out and have blood work done. That way we can make sure you’re okay, plus find out exactly what drugs Pearson gave you.”
Max nodded his agreement. “So, what’s going to happen to Jake?”
Officer Spencer sighed. “Well, he’s facing a multitude of charges based on what happened to you. Attempted murder, firearms charges, breaking and entering, drug possession, explosives charges. And once we uncover more evidence, the district attorney is likely to move forward on the kidnapping and murder charges from ten years ago. I doubt if he’ll ever be back in society.”
“Good,” murmured Max. “I wouldn’t want him to do this to anybody else.”
*****
Epilogue
After a few more moments, Todd Spencer excused himself to continue his investigation. Max turned to Jim, nervously running his hand through his hair.
“Jim,” he began. “I was…just wondering if I still have a place on the team.”
The other three pairs of eyes turned toward the team leader. “Well, Max, you did submit your resignation,” he said sternly, and the room grew tense. But then he smiled, his bright blue eyes sparkling. He reached into his front breast pocket and extracted the familiar piece of paper. “I held onto it, just in case. Do you wish to rescind it?”
Max sighed with relief, took the piece of paper from Jim’s outstretched hand, and ripped it into a dozen pieces. “Thanks, Jim,” he said sincerely, and everyone at the table grinned.
“You have been through quite an ordeal, though,” Jim continued soberly. “You’re probably going to need some time. Your place on the team will be here when you’re ready.”
“I appreciate that, Jim,” replied Max, “but the only thing I need is to get back to work. With my friends.”
“Are you sure, Max?” Shannon asked, reaching out from her seat beside the blond to take his hand in hers.
“I’m positive, Shannon,” he replied. “This team, and all of you, mean everything to me.”
Jim gave the blond agent a fatherly smile and extended his right hand across the table. “Welcome back to the team, Max,” he said warmly, and the two men shared a firm handshake.
The End
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