Shallow Creek

“Marcus, all I need is overwatch.  I’m going to call them to get a time and location.  They’ll probably want to meet me in a shitty part of town, and I need someone watching my back out there.”  When his friend didn’t immediately respond, he added, “You wouldn’t be in harm’s way.  I just need you to stand guard and make sure no one’s sneaking up on me.  Okay?”

His friend sighed heavily into the phone.

“Sure, man,” Marcus conceded finally.  “Sure.  You know I’ll always have your back, but you owe me more than just a beer for this.”

Brendan smiled.  “If we sort this mess out, you can name your price, bud.”

Sullen, Marcus said, “Yeah, but I’m more worried about the price they’re going to put on your head if this thing goes south.”

Chapter 13

The warehouse loomed over an abandoned gas station at the edge of town.  Here in the industrial district, nothing stirred.  Brendan and Marcus had patrolled the streets on either side of the warehouse, seeing absolutely squat.  No one had entered or left the area.

Almost an hour ago, he’d called the number Fisher had passed to him.  After four increasingly anxious rings, Michelle’s cousin had answered, giving Brendan instructions for the meet.  Knowing that he shouldn’t enter a situation like this without some reconnaissance, Brendan had picked up Marcus before racing over, his truck’s roaring exhaust note providing the soundtrack to his night.  They’d ditched the truck up the road and hoofed it the rest of the way in.

“It’s not too late to back out of this,” Marcus said, his eyes still scanning the area ahead.  He’d tried a number of times to dissuade Brendan from doing what he had to do, but it wasn’t working.

“It’ll be fine.”

That familiar pre-mission antsy feeling grew in his chest.  The parking lot around the dark warehouse was empty, at least within the limited confines of the weak floodlights mounted haphazardly across the side of the building.  Brendan gave it one more minute.  The anticipation brewing internally flared, and Brendan knew he had to move.

“It’s time,” he said.  Marcus nodded reluctantly.  “I’ll squawk twice on the walkie-talkie if I need help.”

After installing the earbud from his radio into his ear, Brendan slipped quietly from their observation post.  With a glance over his shoulder to confirm the road behind was clear, he slinked from shadow to shadow, only breaking cover when absolutely necessary.  The pattern of illumination on the ground close to the large warehouse contained many holes, and Brendan exploited each of them to reach a small side door.

Now that he was closer, Brendan could see the dilapidation and obvious signs of neglect of the place.  No signage anywhere hinted at a possible usage for the warehouse, so Brendan assumed it was as abandoned as the gas station next door.  After confirming that his pocket still held his trusty knife, Brendan tried the door handle.

It turned easily in his hand and he found himself staring into a brightly lit, and mostly empty, warehouse.  A desk stood in the middle of the open area, and a man stood behind it, smirking towards Brendan.

“It’s about time, man,” Scott Fisher said amicably enough.  “I’ve been waiting.”

Brendan paused long enough to sweep the open area, but couldn’t see anyone else around.  Part of him nagged at him to leave, telling him that he didn’t really know what he was doing, but backing down wasn’t his style.

“Come on in.” Fisher waved towards the desk.  “The water’s fine.”

Brendan let the door close behind him, and then walked up to the desk.  Fisher motioned for Brendan to take a seat across the desk from him, but that didn’t seem like a good idea.  When Brendan stayed standing, Fisher shrugged and sat down himself.

A loud click echoed throughout the building as all the lights except the powerful floodlight directly overhead switched off.  From within the intense cone of light, everything beyond disappeared entirely.  Adrenaline started to build in Brendan’s veins as his senses kicked into overdrive.  Bolting for the door seemed like a choice plan, but Brendan knew his eyesight would be reduced to nothing after he transitioned from the brightness to the darkness.

“Alright, man,” Fisher said as he placed his elbows onto the desk and let his fingers form a bridge.  “I got a little problem with your story from earlier.”

Brendan tensed up.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, trying to hold back his growing concern.

“Yeah,” Fisher replied gruffly.  “You’re either dumb, or really fucking dumb.”

That was Brendan’s signal.  The game was over.  Survival instincts kicked in.