“What about the cop? Can we get him to do it? He’ll have direct access to the kid, can probably get him on his own, too,” Cakes said.
“If he refuses we’ll have to kill him,” Doc said. “Then he’ll be no good to us.”
“How long do we keep him alive?” Cakes asked.
Canella took a sip of whisky and lingered over it, Cakes and Doc awaiting her decision.
“We keep him until we have made a decision about what we are going to do.”
“Fight or flight,” Doc said.
“What?” Cakes asked.
“Whether you stay and ride it out, or whether you need to leave the country,” Doc said.
Chapter 46
Peter lay in a hospital bed with Lauren beside him, multiple tubes coming out of and going into him. The oncologist took the bottle of Rituxan from Lauren’s hand and checked over the label, noticing the absence of prescription information.
“Where did you get this?” the oncologist asked.
“A friend,” Lauren said.
“A pharmacist?” he asked.
“No.”
“Look, I can’t use this.”
“But that’s the stuff you prescribed for him!” she said.
“Yes, but his name isn’t on the bottle. No-one’s name is on the bottle, did you steal this?”
“No!” Lauren said.
“I’m afraid I have to report this to the-”
“Look,” she said, “it’s stolen, okay. I didn’t steal it, some criminals did. A police officer I know arrested those criminals and gave this to us.”
The doctor pondered over the information. “That doesn’t change my responsibilities.”
“No it doesn’t. He’s your responsibility,” she said, pointing to Peter, who plainly had very little life left in him. “The police officer knew he wasn’t following the book but knowing that my boy will die if he doesn’t get that, he was prepared to bend the rules. What about you?” she asked.
The doctor shook his head. “I’ll pretend I never saw this,” he said, trying to hand the medicine back.
“He will be dead by the weekend!”
“I’m so sorry, I just-”
“Listen to me. That cop put his ass on the line to save my son. If he doesn’t make it, someone is going to have to explain it to the cop.”
“Are you threatening me?” he said, and put the medicine on the bed.
“What is wrong with you, didn’t you take an oath? I mean, doesn’t that mean-”
“Please,” Peter whimpered, his mouth dry, his voice weak and raspy. “Please help me.” Peter looked the doctor in the eye, barely holding open his eyelids.
The doctor wanted desperately to look away but couldn’t. He picked up the medicine and went to Peter’s bedside. “I expect your complete confidentiality,” the doctor said.
“That won’t be a problem,” Lauren said.
Chapter 47
Betts stood in front of a mirror in the men’s room, washing his face, looking at the button-sized lump on his chest. He opened the top button of his shirt, revealing a semi circle of transparent stitches around the underside of the camera.
His chest began to buzz and he looked at the camera for a moment, then buttoned up. The camera sat above the topmost button, the stitches just below, out of sight. The buzzing stopped and he washed his hands.
“Hey!” the voice boomed from the door of the men’s room. It was Forrest. “Braun wants to see us.”
***
Canella, Doc and Cakes were feasting on Chinese take away.
“Listen up!” Doc said, with a mouthful of food, “this’ll be important!”
They watched the screen as Betts walked into Braun’s office, where he sat behind his desk.
“Mitch Walker is scheduled to see a judge tomorrow. I’d like you fellas to organize an escort and an indirect route from the hospital to the courthouse. He’s scheduled for a four o’clock appearance. Get him there early,” Braun said.
“Armored vehicle?” Betts asked.
“No, that’ll just draw attention. Keep it simple, an unmarked sedan, tinted windows, leaving from inside the car park.”
***
Betts and Forrest nodded and left. Heading back to their desks, Forrest glanced over at his uncharacteristically subdued colleague.
“I got the route all worked out already. I know the area, and I think the...”
Betts interrupted, feigning a cough that he hoped would prevent Canella and co. from hearing what Forrest was going to say. “...I think we should leave from the ambulance exit at three o’clock and take the street at the rear of the hospital,” Forrest continued.
Betts indicated that he needed to go to the bathroom and walked away coughing.
***
Cakes rewound the recorded vision on the computer, trying to hear what Forrest had said through Betts’ coughing. After replaying it multiple times he finally deciphered the key information: leave from the ambulance exit at three o’clock, take the street at the rear of the hospital.
***
Betts sat at his desk and tilted the computer monitor upwards, aiming it at his eyes. It was an old monitor and the screen was only clear if you were directly in front of it. He hoped that meant it would be unclear to the chest-cam and began typing an email to Braun.
***
Canella, Doc and Cakes could see Betts was typing something on the computer, but the monitor was a blur due to the adjusted angle. Betts’ plan had worked. So far.
“That sneaky fuck,” Cakes said, and took the cell phone from the desk.
“What? What’s he doing?” Canella asked.
“He’s using the computer, ma.”
“I can see that, so what?”
“He’s not doing online shopping!” Cakes said, as he wrote a text message.
“He’s probably writing an email to another cop, telling them what’s happened to him,” Doc said.
***
Betts continued typing.
Sir,
This morning I was abducted by Canella’s
people.
A text message sounded on his phone and he hastened to finish the email.
Sir,
This morning I was abducted by Canella’s
people. They drugged me and
He felt the prickle of the warning buzz but kept writing.
Sir,
This morning I was abducted by Canella’s
people. They drugged me and implanted
a camera in
Then the inevitable blast from his chest sent him violently back into his chair, joints cracking, muscles contorting. His eyeballs felt like they were on the verge of exploding when it finally it stopped and he slumped forward onto his desk. What had lasted only half a few seconds seemed to last several minutes.
“Are you having a heart attack, buddy?” asked Forrest, standing nearby.
Before Betts could answer, his cell phone rang. He saw it was Canella.
“I was just stretching,” Betts said. “I gotta take this.”
Forrest walked away and Betts took the call.
“You ignore your phone again and you’ll have a catastrophic heart attack,” Canella said. “Got it?”
“Yeah,” Betts said.
“Now tilt the computer monitor down so we can see it.” The line went dead.
With a hand under the desk and out of view from the chest-cam, Betts switched off the computer at the power button as he angled the monitor towards his chest. As the computer was rebooting, Betts held his cell phone by the side of his chair, away from the camera, and started writing a message.
Sir, this is Betts. I was abducted
He watched as the text was deleted before his eyes. He tried again.
***
In the den, the text message Betts typed appeared on a computer monitor in real time, as he was typing it. Cakes hit the delete button on the keyboard, erasing the message.
***
Betts watched as the text was again deleted
before he could finish. Then words began to appear without him typing.
We got your phone covered. Final warning.
Being clever will get you killed.
“Betts!” Braun said, walking by Betts’s desk. “Go home and get some rest.”
Betts nodded.
Chapter 48
Yasmine opened the front door wearing her skin tight-training clothes, a sight that, on any other day, would trigger a pheromone release in Betts. But he barely noticed and hung his jacket on the stand by the front door.
“Home early, babe?” she asked, delighted. Yasmine hugged him then kissed his neck, and he noticed her cleavage was in plain view of the chest-cam, the hidden audience.
“I’m totally drained, Yas.”
“No you’re not. But you soon will be,” She said, smiling.
***
Cakes, Doc and Canella were eating dessert in front of the TV screen.
“His taste in women ain’t half bad,” Cakes said.
On the screen, Yasmine took Betts by the hand and lead him into the bedroom. She started kissing his neck, her breasts in close up on the screen.
“No, no, no. Not now. I’m exhausted,” Betts said. He turned his back on her.
“Come on, man!” Cakes said. He put his food down and grabbed the cell phone from the table. His fingers moved like a touch-typist over the keys.
***
Betts was looking in the fridge when he felt his phone vibrate. He checked the text message, from Canella.
Harden up!
“Put the phone down,” Yasmine said. She took his hand and he reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged back into the bedroom and onto the bed. But the thought of giving Canella and her cronies a peep show made his gut churn. She kissed his neck some more and then noticed the lump.
“What is that?”
“I, uh, I got hurt at work, nothing major.”
“It’s weird looking, like a cyst or something.”
“It’ll be okay, just don’t touch it.”
***
Canella, Cakes and Doc watched as Yasmine stared straight down the barrel of the camera at them.
She kissed Betts around the lump. Then she slipped out of her training gear, revealing the body that was her life’s work.
***
Cakes and Doc were glued to the screen. Canella looked at them in disgust and got up.
“Shall I get you boys a box of tissues?”
“We’re working here, ma. He could tell her some important information,” Cakes said. She picked up her glass of whiskey and walked away.
***
Betts arched his back in the faint hope that the chest-cam would be aimed at the ceiling, rather than his naked girlfriend.
Maybe there is some way I can turn this situation to my advantage, he thought.
She unzipped his fly and fondled him in a way that he couldn’t ignore. It wouldn’t have mattered if the camera on his chest was broadcasting to the world via satellite, the forces of nature within would not be suppressed.
He gently turned her around, keeping his trousers on, and as she went down on all fours, he grabbed the cell phone from his pocket.
Betts kept the phone by the side of his thigh and, as he slipped inside her, he looked at the screen. He noticed an unread message from Forrest. He opened it to see it contained a link to the spyware website Forrest had shown him: SpEyeware.com
***
Cakes and Doc were so focused on the unfolding live peepshow on the fifty-inch TV screen, they didn’t notice the computer monitor, which showed Betts’s cell phone activity.
***
Betts continued working both the phone and Yasmine. As she groaned, he downloaded an application. He then opened Canella’s last message, wrote a reply, then attached the spyware tool to the message.
***
Cakes and Doc were still enjoying the viewing when the cell phone vibrated. Doc picked up the phone and opened the message from Betts.
Are you enjoying this?
Doc smiled and showed Cakes, who chortled. While they laughed, the spyware was infiltrating the cell phone, accessing all contacts, message history, emails and applications, and making them available for Betts to control and access via his phone.
“You should reply to him,” Cakes said, “give him instructions! Here give it to me.” Cakes took the phone.
***
Betts was still busy with Yasmine and his phone. On the screen, a message appeared.
SpEyeware Active!
They took the bait! Keeping the phone by his side, he activated the spyware and viewed his options:
1. Audio Monitor
2. Video Monitor
3. Text Monitor
4. GPS Monitor
He put his phone on mute, then activated Audio Monitor. The screen on his phone returned to normal, with a small ear-shaped icon illuminated in the top corner, indicating that he was now listening live to Canella’s phone. His phone was on mute, so remained silent. He was about to put the phone down when it vibrated – a new message.
“What are you doing?” Yasmine asked, turning to see him with the phone in hand. She snatched it and read over the recent messages.
(Received) Harden up!
(Sent) Are you enjoying this?
(Received) Oh yeah! I like your lady. Maybe we should pimp her out.
“What the fuck’s this?!” Yasmine said. “Are you filming this? Who are you sending this to?”
“It’s not what you think, really. It’s work.”
“Work?!” She hurled the phone against the wall and gathered her clothes.
“You disgust me,” she said. He looked blankly at her. “Well? What have you got to say for yourself?”
He shrugged and shook his head. She walked out of the room.
Although he couldn’t have prevented what happened from happening, he was disgusted with himself nonetheless. But at least there had been some benefit from it. That is, if his phone still worked.
He heard the front door close and picked up the phone. The screen was shattered, but it was still functional. The SpEyeware icon was still on in the top corner and for the first time all day, he smiled.
Perfect!
Chapter 49
The van marked Charlie’s Panel and Paint was parked down the street from Canella’s Smash Repairs. Inside, Vance and Miles were on stakeout duty. Vance watched a monitor with CCTV footage of the warehouse, while Davis kept his eyes on a computer screen, reading the text messages between Betts and Canella.
“Here’s that new player,” said Vance, “he’s finally responding to Canella’s messages.”
“Good, now you can trace the number,” said Miles, “go ahead.”
Vance ran the new phone number through another computer and it only took a second to produce a result. The profile of a familiar face opened on the screen. “It’s Betts!” said Vance.
“That can’t be right. Try again.”
Vance tried again, and got the same result. “What the hell is he doing making contact?” said Vance.
“Must be part of the strategy.”
“First I’ve heard of it,” Vance said.
Chapter 50
Canella, Cakes and Doc watched the monitor, which went black as Betts lay face down on his bed.
“What, is he gonna lie down and cry now?” Cakes said. They kept watching, but the screen stayed black.
“Maybe he’s going to sleep,” Doc said.
“I don’t like it,” Cakes said. “I’ll give him a buzz.”
“No,” Canella said. “We don’t want to ride him too hard yet. He’s tired, girlfriend just walked out on him. Let him sleep for a while.”
Cakes looked at his mother, unable to hide his surprise. “Are you going soft, ma?”
“It’s called being professional, Cakes. You ought to try it.”
“Your mother’s right,” said Doc.
***
Betts lay face down on his bed, obstructing the camera. His ri
ght arm hung over the side of the bed, holding his cell phone close to the floor as he plugged in a set of headphones then put them into his ears. Now it was Betts who was doing the listening.
“You know what I’m thinking,” Cakes asked.
“No, but we’re all dying to know,” Canella said.
“I’m thinking we don’t need this prick anymore. We know what they got on us, which is fuck all. He’s at home, by himself. I say it’s the perfect time to cook this cop, go pull the chest-cam out of his barbecued body, then scatter his ashes.”
Betts’s eyes widened in horror and he stopped breathing, solely focused on listening to the response to Cake’s suggestion.
“No. We’re going to need him around after tomorrow,” Doc said, “to make sure we’re in the clear.”
“That’s right,” said Canella.
Betts rolled onto his back, giving his audience a view of the bedroom ceiling. He felt relieved but aware that he had the deadliest of deadlines. He just didn’t know when it would come. He stayed on his back until it was dark, listening to Cakes, Doc and Canella.
***