Chapter 7

August 20th, 2012

0400 hours



Stanford woke up in a featureless room, with a throbbing in his head.



What happened? Where am I?



He looked around. A cold gray concrete room. No windows, and strangely enough, no obvious door.



What time is it? What happened? Damn.



“H-help!”



Stanford waited for several minutes, hoping for a response.’



“Help!”



Suddenly, a section of the concrete slid open.



A menacing voice growled from the opening.



“Good morning sunshine”



Every primal urge running through Stanford’s head told him to attack. To fight to kill. He kept thinking "Why? Why Me?"



“Who are you?”



The voice chuckled from beyond the opening.



“Wouldn’t you like to know?”



“I would.”



“Another time, right now we have work to do.”



“What makes you think I’ll work for you?”



Before he even finished his sentence, a whole wall of the room lit up. Then the screen was filled with a video. A video of Ellie.



Damn, he really knows how to hit me hard.



“What do you want?”



“We need a courier. Someone to deliver a package to an office building in Sarasota. Think about it, what would Ellie want you to do?”



“Shut up! Don’t talk to me about Ellie!”



“Well then, you’ll do what we say, if you want Ellie to stay alive.”



Stanford’s mouth hung open in disbelief. It was like every stereotypical kidnap movie he’d ever seen, which was a grand total of two. He never saw much use for fiction, but occasionally indulged a girl in a fictional movie. Of course, he hadn’t seen a movie since high school.



“Fine, but if I play delivery boy, you leave Ellie out of this. For good.”



The voice chuckled again.



“I can do that.”



The suddenly, a man wearing a military uniform stepped into the room. He looked at the ranking on the man’s sleeve. A major. Three stars. Stanford started running through lists in his head of all the majors he knew and started comparing them to this one. Smith? No. Richter? No. Who is he? Stanford gave a few seconds pause to figure it out. Suddenly, a smile crossed his face.



“You’d better, Major Turnbull.”



A true, surprisingly genial laugh erupted from the man.



“You’re a sharp one, aren’t you? Not much slips past you.”



Turnbull grabbed Stanford by the chin, a move that was now becoming a favorite of his.



“Well then, you mention my name to anybody, and I will kill your precious Ellie, and you. Slowly. Slowly and painfully.”



Stanford mad dogged Turnbull as best as he could, but he felt something start to break inside of him. If it were will, determination, or some part of his soul that he couldn’t isolate, he didn’t know. He just knew he couldn’t let Ellie be hurt.



Chapter 8

August 20th, 2012

0800 hours



“Where is he?”



Ellie sat alone in the darkened analysis room. She stared intently at Stanford’s empty chair, as if her stare would make Stanford materialize. Suddenly, the door behind her beeped. She spun around. There stood Stanford, looking disheveled, tired, and sad.



“What happened to you?”



“Bad night, not much sleep.” Stanford replied in a clipped manner.



“You’re always here before 0730. What really happened?”



Stanford paused, as if in thought.



“I had a break in last night. I scared off the intruders, but it kept me up all night.”



“Oh Stanford, you could have taken the day off.”



“Well, I do need to take off a little early today.”



“Sure, whatever you need to do Stanford.”



Stanford sat down at a terminal and began to peck away at the keyboard. Twenty minutes later, both Ellie and Stanford were furiously typing on their keyboards, intently concentrating on their tasks at hand. Suddenly the door slid open. Henry Taylor walked in.



“Dammit Taylor, what do you want?”



Henry Taylor was a tall forty-something man with sandy brown hair. He walked with a slight limp that he got from a shrapnel injury in some war.



“Ouch, that hurts Miss Joiner.” He smirked. Ellie hated him with a passion. In fact, everybody hated him with a passion. Even his mother disowned him. However, he never seemed too torn up about it. He skated in behind her workstation. “What have we here?”



Ellie swiveled in her chair.



“Would you stop looking over my shoulder?”

“Why should I? I’ve got superiority.”



Ellie managed to resist the urge to slap Taylor.



“Looking to start up another political debate? Or perhaps just looking to push someone around? If so, you can go die in a hole.”



Taylor patted her on top of her head. That was it. Ellie grabbed his wrist and growled out through barred teeth, “Don’t. Touch. Me.”



Taylor gave her a smile that was about as friendly as an angry pitbull.



“I could have you fired for that.”



Ellie stared at her own hand encircling Taylor’s wrist. Reluctantly, she let it go.



Taylor flashed that pitbull smile again.



“There’s a good girl.”



Taylor spun on his heel and left the room.



“Know any good ways to kill someone and get away with it Stanford?”



“Why? Thinking of joining the CIA?”



“If it means getting rid of him, yes.”



“Then save room for me.”



Stanford glanced down at his computer screen.



“Hey, Ellie, I gotta take off.”



“You sure you’re okay Stanford? I mean, you can talk to me if you need to.”



“Thanks, but no thanks. This is something I can, and probably should do on my own.”



Ellie watched Stanford streak out of the room, looking more stressed than ever; but what could she do?











Chapter 9

August 20th, 2012

1134 hours



Stanford stood in the doorway, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. He held a large black duffle bag. He hefted it by its strap, feeling its weight. It was probably a good forty pounds, give or take. His mind wandered to what it could contain. Drugs? A bomb? What could be in here? Stanford took a look at the piece of paper that the man had handed him. It simply read 1201 Glades Avenue, 11:45, black duffle, 3rd floor. Not a lot of information, but Stanford wasn’t ready to play by some General’s rules just because he said so. No, he had a plan. As he walked past the security desk, he slipped a note to the guard. Some man said I had to take this bag to the third floor. He threatened my family. Evacuate, please, and keep it quiet. I don’t know what’s in here, but I want everyone safe. The security guard looked at him in confusion, and then nodded.



“Fire drill, three minutes” He said to his companion.



Stanford opted to take the elevator. Between the second and third floors, he pulled the stop. The elevator ground to a halt and a bell rang. Seconds later, the fire alarm sounded. Over the speakers, the calm, slightly muffled voice of the guard spoke to every floor of the building.



“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a fire drill. If you would please make your way to the exits calmly and quietly, we’ll have you back inside as quickly as possible.”



Stanford looked at his watch, 11:42. He waited until the sound of footsteps faded away, then released the stop on the elevator. He stepped out onto the now empty floor, set the bag down on a desk, and opened it. What he saw caused his heart to sink. Several blocks of an odd smelling substance, wires, but the thing that scared him the most, was the timer, counting down the seconds to the designated time. Less than a minute. His heart suddenly started pounding, reminding him that this was real. He grabbed for a pair of scissors, and started studying the wiring. Thirty seconds. He traced the wires with his fingers, until he came across one that was between the explosives, and the power source. He took a deep breath, and cut them. For what felt like hours, nothing happened. Then the timer flashed three times, and stopped. Stanford breathed a sigh of relief. Until a blaring chime broke the silence. A cell phone. A cell phone he missed. Suddenly, the timer flashed to zero. Sorry Ellie, I tried. Then Stanford Leigh was gone, in a spectacular ball of fire.