The Term Sheet | Wattys 2016 Winner

Chapter 46

"Can't we just show them our badges?" asked Brandon.

"It's not like this is an approved mission. Plus that would alert Doug. What's wrong with you? We don't have time to discuss this. Just go," said Shawn.

"I'm really sorry, boss, but I don't think I can do this," said Brandon.

"Just get it over with," said Shawn. Seeing Brandon's hesitation, Shawn slapped him hard across the face.

A burly Samoan sat at the front desk working intently on a crossword puzzle when he noticed the two men out of the corner of his eye. The wind was blowing the rain against the windows in sheets. Through the blur, the two men appeared to be drunks looking for cover and stumbling into each other. Then one of them slapped the other and pushed him into the glass. This made a low echoing vibration. He came back and punched the older man in the face. The older man fell to the ground and the younger man began kicking him in the gut over and over again.

The guard put down his pencil and just watched for a while, cracking a slight smile.

"Fuck," yelled Shawn. "Stop it. Stop it. This isn't working, he's not coming."

Brandon kept punching.

"Stop it! We need to try something else."

Shawn got up. He was bleeding from the mouth and eyebrow and his eye was starting to swell. He looked around and walked away. The guard picked up his pencil and chuckled to himself as he started working on the crossword puzzle again. A few moments later with a garbage can lifted completely over his head, Shawn started running toward Brandon and the building.

"Oh no. Not on my watch you don't," yelled the guard. The guard got up and started charging toward the door.

"Oh shit, stop! No!" yelled Brandon, squatting into a fetal position.

As Shawn approached, the front door swung open.

"Hey! You! Put that dow–aghhhhhhhh," yelled the guard as he fell to the ground like a log.

Brandon shocked the man once more for good measure and gave the thumbs-up sign to Shawn, who put the trash can down. Then Brandon helped Shawn up.

"I'm really sorry, boss," said Brandon.

Shawn smiled with blood running down his face. "For some reason I believed you more the first time you told me that."

Shawn grabbed the keys off the slobbering security guard's belt and helped Brandon through the door. They ran to the elevator and swiped the guard's card. When they got to the top floor, the receptionist looked at them in shock.

"Who are you?"

"Secret Service. Where's Doug Kensington?"

Khelli reached under her desk. Shawn pulled his pistol and aimed right at her forehead. It had been a while since he had aimed this gun at another human being, but it was just like riding a bike.

"Put your hands where we can see them. I will only ask one more time. Where is Doug Kensington?"

Khelli slowly put her hands flat on the desk in front of her. Her face relaxed into resignation.

"He's not here," she said.

Shawn went to the door behind Khelli, but it was locked. "Open this door right now."

"I can't," she said. "It's locked from the inside."

Shawn rolled his eyes. He shot the lock twice and kicked down the door. The room was empty.

"Fuck," yelled Brandon. "Where did they go?"

Khelli ran to the elevator. Shawn turned to go after her, but changed his mind and asked Brandon to check on the Cryptobit bank account. Brandon pulled out his phone and a few moments later showed the screen to Shawn. In bold red letters it showed a balance of $760,000.

Shawn tore Brandon's phone from his hands, punched in a number, and pulled it up to his ear. "Sir, we need to talk."