Chapter 30
Jack looked up from what he was doing and glanced at his watch. He could hardly believe it was already past noon, but his stomach was telling him it was definitely time for lunch. He looked around at the others, all of whom were diligently making notes or reading files. He walked out to the kitchen and called the Bagel Emporium to order lunch: pastrami on rye all around, with tubs of potato salad and coleslaw. He was told it would be forty-five minutes before it could be delivered. To pass the time, he brewed some fresh coffee and tried once more to call Nikki. He was stunned when she picked up after the second ring. His heart fluttered. That had to mean she was still on the ground, stuck somewhere.
“Where are you, Nik?”
“Kansas City. We’re grounded. There is no chance, we’re told, of getting out today, so Alexis and I are going to go to a hotel and hope we can get an early flight in the morning. How’s everything?”
Jack sighed. “You know, same old, same old. Christmas is over. We missed you. It wasn’t the same, but we were together; the guys, I mean. And Maggie. How was yours?”
“God, Jack, don’t even ask. If I live to be a hundred, I will never forget this disaster of a Christmas. Never!” she said vehemently. Her voice was so shrill, Jack blanched. “Do you believe those creepy bastards at Andover sent some . . . some flunky to the funeral? They sent a ton of flowers and a . . . and a . . . goddamn teddy bear. A teddy bear. Do you believe that? Oh, and they sent a fruit basket to the house. A fruit basket!” Her voice was so strident coming through the cell phone, Cyrus reared up and howled.
Jack struggled to find some comforting words, but they wouldn’t come. It didn’t matter since Nikki wasn’t listening anyway. “You know what else, Jack? Those bastards are not going to settle. I know that now for sure. We’re going to have to go to court. These families are worn out. All their fight is gone. Like Molly’s dad said, once you see your child go into the ground, it’s all over. And he’s right. I want to pack it in myself. So does Alexis. But if we do that, then those bastards win. Tell me what to do, Jack. Please, tell me what I should do.”
Jack wished there was a deep hole he could fall into right that second. What to say, how to say it? The best he could come up with was, “I know it doesn’t seem possible right now, but it’s all going to work out, Nik. Trust me on that, okay?”
There was so much bitterness in his wife’s voice that Jack longed for the deep hole. “No, Jack, it isn’t going to work out. I’m losing this suit. You know it, I know it, and so do those skunks at Andover. It’s been almost two years, Jack, that I’ve been at this, and I’m no further along today than I was a year ago. Damn it, Jack, they’re going to drive me into the ground. I’d like to get my hands around the neck of that Otto Andover and squeeze till his eyes pop out of his head. Listen, Jack, I have to go. Something is happening at the ticket counter, and Alexis is calling me. I love you. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Yeah, sure, do what you have to do. Love you, too,” Jack said as he ended the call. He stood for a long time, just staring at his reflection in the stainless-steel refrigerator, until Cyrus nudged his leg ever so gently. Jack looked down at the big dog with the soulful brown eyes and whispered, “We’re gonna make it right for her, Cyrus. We are. And I think I’m going to push up our timetable before Nik crashes and burns on me.” Cyrus whined low in his throat.
Jack was a whirlwind as he roared down the hall and into the conference room, his arms outstretched and palms outward. “Stop! Listen up, everyone. New plan. I just got off the phone with Nikki.” Five minutes later, the group had been apprised of what had transpired and Jack’s reasons for advancing the time on what he was calling the take down of Andover Pharmaceuticals.
“Jack, do we even know if the Andovers are in the country? Don’t people like that go to Gstaad for skiing or someplace warm for the holidays? Maybe cruising the Med? One of them—Otto, I think—owns a big yacht,” Harry said.
“Get on it, people; find out where they are. I’m sure they all have unlisted phone numbers. Someone get Abner in here so he can hack into the records. We need a story line to get them all together. C’mon, c’mon, I want you all to think. Time is of the essence.”
Almost exactly an hour later, it was Maggie who came up with the best idea. They all listened as she expounded on it, their eyes wide as Maggie slammed her gold shield down in front of her, then looked around. “We pretend we’re FBI or CIA. We call the big guy, Otto, and tell him we need to get the three of them together at some designated spot because there is a terrorist threat on their company, and if you don’t like the word terrorist, come up with something better. We call, but we’re standing right outside the door when we do it, so he can’t alert anyone else except his siblings. We can get the protocol from Bert and Sparrow. You know, how all that is done, so we don’t screw it up. We dress like FBI: dark suits, shades, high and tight haircuts like the military, speakers in our sleeves and collars, aviator sunglasses. We waltz them out the door to an unmarked van and take them to wherever we want to go to . . . um . . . finish them off.”
“I’m okay with everything but cutting my hair,” Harry said.
“I don’t have a gold shield,” Dennis said.
“Where are we going to take them?” Espinosa asked. “And how are we going to get them extracted? Did anyone call Snowden?”
“I’ll call Snowden in a minute. I was thinking of the farm. Annie and Myra left for Vegas very early this morning, before the weather got so bad, so there’s no one there. Bert told me when I called him earlier in the day. He said they would be wheels down by late morning, and the plan is for them to stay until the New Year. And Myra’s dogs are at Nellie’s. The place is empty. The farm, I’m thinking, is our safest bet. Anyone disagree?” Jack said.
No one disagreed, but Abner did have a question. “If they find out, then what?”
“Then we deal with it at that time. Right now, we can’t worry about that. Aside from Nikki being my wife, she is also Myra’s adopted daughter. I don’t think Myra will kick up too much of a fuss with us taking care of business for Nikki. I grant you, they are going to be seriously ticked off, but that’s for another day. And, anyway, their biggest complaint will probably be that we didn’t include them in this enterprise. Did you get anything, Abner?”
“I need another hour and I’ll have some very serious information to contribute. Can I get back to work?”
“Go!” Jack bellowed. “Okay, we now have a plan,” he said, gleefully smacking his hands together. “Nice work, Maggie.
“Okay, Dennis, here is your first job. I want you to get Ted and Espinosa’s measurements, then go to Brooks Brothers and get them each a suit that screams FBI. Pick up two pairs of aviator glasses, some gizmos from RadioShack, so they can talk into their sleeves, and any other shit you think they might need. Chop chop, kid. Every minute from here on in counts. On second thought, pick up a suit for yourself. I’m thinking three agents is better than two. Oh, and go to a gun shop and pick up some under-the-arm holsters. We can get guns from Myra’s house. Did I forget anything? Why are you still standing here?”
“Wait a minute,” Dennis said. “I thought we were going to get shoulder holsters and guns from Bert and Sparrow in Vegas. Or did I miss something, and there was a change in plans?”
“No, you’re right, Dennis. I’m beginning to think I would forget my head if it weren’t on my shoulders. Forget about the holsters,” Jack said.
“Should I get a high and tight haircut while I’m out?”
Jack grinned. “See, kid, now you’re thinking. Absolutely. Ted and Espinosa will go for theirs tomorrow.”
“So, then, it’s three pairs of aviator glasses?”
“Yeah, Dennis, three. No, wait a minute. Make it five, just in case we decide that everyone other than Harry, who is too well-known, and Abner needs to join the FBI.”
Cyrus whooped with delight when Dennis let out a long whoop of his own.
“Oh boy oh boy, we could go to the federal pen for impersonating FBI officers. Jeez, this is exciting.”
“Subdued suits, Dennis,” Ted called out.
“Nothing flashy, but cut well,” Espinosa shouted.
“I got it, I got it! Okay, I’m outta here.”
“Hold on, Dennis, I’ll give you a ride. I have to check in at the paper. See you guys. Be back in a flash,” Maggie said.
Jack let his gaze go to the far wall, to the Jasper Johns painting. He glared at it before he got back to work. I’m doing it, Nik. I’m gonna make it work for you. I never break a promise. We’re going to make this right. Or die trying, he added as an afterthought, hoping it wouldn’t come to that.