San Francisco, July 2nd, 2013. 10:47 PM
Travis Haley jumped from room 3408 and fell. The world spun around him in that familiar rush of vivid colors, and for a second, as he always did, he felt as if he was going to die.
Then he landed the jump. How could he have not? After all, they called him MJ for a reason.
He looked back at the window. It looked so far away, and as he always did he marveled at his God-given talent.
The crane that had delivered him to room 3408 was working on the new Insurion building across the street from the hotel. And on long arm of the crane he now stood. It had been lowered to a height he could safely make the jump from.
Being at such a height no longer frightened him. In fact, it made him so alive. It made him so close to death, and that absolutely thrilled him. After all, besides the money, he did it for the statement. It was so great to commit a crime and watch as the police tripped all over themselves as they chased dead-end leads.
But who had the guy in room 3408 been? Thanks god for him. He had really saved his life. Travis still had time to make it to the Hilton.
But f-ck whoever gave him the wrong place. "The glitzy hotel near the Insurion building. Tall. Can't miss it." What an idiot. Did he not realize there were two Insurion buildings?
But it was alright. Because Travis would find a way. He always did.
He strode, cat-like, down the crane's arm. The operator was still sitting there, wearing a ski-mask. But he was just a cog in the machine of Project A. And although Travis didn't want to acknowledge it, he was too.
He climbed into the pit.
"What's up?" he asked, casually enough.
"Need to move it back?"
"Yep. You read my mind."
The operator moved it back, while Travis observed him. He was a stocky man, Probably around 30 to 40. Probably a family man looking for some more money. He would regret this.
"There it is." the crane snapped into place so the arm poked into the space between newly laid floors in the building. Perfect for Travis to crawl through.
"Is it stable? Like, if you take your hands off the controls, will it hold."
"Yeah." The man took his hands off and held them up. For the first time, Travis noticed a handgun sticking out of the man's belt. Whatever purpose that served, he didn't want to wait and find out.
Travis shot him in the head before the man could make a move for the gun. In retrospect, the man probably wouldn't have anyways. "Shouldn't have done that."
Clancy and James still sat in the office. It had been silent for quite a long time. "Are you sure they're not done yet, Clance?"
"Who? The guy who broke in to your room or the one who sent the heads?"
"I'm not a detective and all, but I have a feeling they're the same."
"Yeah."
"So what now?"
"We solve the case. It has to do something with Insurion. And everyone in the City knows where Insurion is."
"Oh no, Clancy. No way."
"Why not come? You have to. It's the only way you can solve this. And you think anyone else out there is going to offer you protection? They're all working on this?"
"But...I can't."
"Fine." Clancy got up to leave. He had used this trick so many times on James when they had been kids. Clancy was older than him by still only single-digits, but he still lorded over James.
"Fine! But I swear, if you f-ck this up, it's on your head."
Clancy smiled. "Hurry up. Time is everything."
Travis exited the Insurion building and yanked off the hot, sweaty ski mask. he breathed in fresh air that didn't smell like sweat-dreched cotton. Then he took off his sweatshirt, revealing a white t-shirt underneath and threw it into the sewer, where the putrid current swept it away quickly.
He walked briskly through the streets to the Hilton. He didn't check behind him because he knew there couldn't possibly be any cops on his tail. They were preoccupied.
But still, he cursed under his breath. He had to get to the building by 11:15 or else. Blue had made that clear.
He didn't like working with Blue that much. But the man paid the bills. But who would have thought that San Francisco's crime boss was actually, in real life...
He had to focus. But Blue's sneering mockery stayed glued to his brain. How had this mix-up happened. The man was way too cryptic. He forced you to decipher everything until you ended up looking for messages that simply weren't there.
But he had set up the crane man for Travis, who cursed again. Maybe he shouldn't have killed the portly man. Maybe he should have gotten information. And after all, a black barrel was quite convincing.
Could Blue have messed up too? That was incomprehensible. He was so confident, so sure of himself. Everything was meticulously planned out.
Maybe he mixed up the locations. But that was also impossible, considering his connection to Insurion. He owned the Hilton and the InterContinental. Something had happened, whether by accident or purpose. Maybe the middleman had f-cked it all up. But he remembered the indistinguishable low voice clearly confirming it was the InterContinental.
He neared Kearny Street. The Hilton logo shone above him like the Batman logo over Gotham. There was no turning back. He had to do this.
He walked into the air-conditioned lobby. There was a pompous looking young man at the concierge desk. Travis walked over confidently.
"Excuse me, sir, too late to get a room?" The boy's name was Brian. He kind of reminded Haley of the dog from Family Guy.
"No, not at all. Rough night?"
"You have no idea. Uh, wife troubles."
"Oh, I understand." But his look made it clear he didn't.
"Uh, can I request a room?"
"Of course, as long as it's open."
"3408."
The man searched through the computer. "Yeah. Why that room, though? I'm just curious."
"U-uh, a friend recommended it to me. Said the view was great. Uh, Derek Frost." Travis had recalled the first name that came to mind, the man he had shot dead earlier in the night.
"Oh, really? He worked here. I guess I have to check up him. Make sure he didn't spend any, you know, nights he shouldn't have up there." They laughed, and Travis wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.
Travis wondered grimly how the man would react once he found out he wouldn't be able to remind Frost of that. Would he remember Travis? The longer Travis spent, the more time he gave the man to get a clear desciption of him in his head to give to the authorities.
"Well, can I pay? There sort of someone looking for me."
"Wife?" The man's expression oozed faux understanding.
"Yeah."
Travis didn't flinch when the price was announced. He drew out a wad of bills from his pocket and handed it to the young man, who recoiled immediately at the sight of the dirty papers.
"All cash?"
"Err, my emergency fund."
"Oh, I get it. Trust me, if any girls walk in here, I'll cover for you."
"Thanks." Travis took the key and hurried away.
Brian looked after the man who walked away, the lights of the lobby glinting off the man's smooth coffee skin.
Clancy explained in depth and layman's terms how Insurion was related to it all. How they were at the center of it all. James listened intently as they speedwalked to their destination.
"So, now you see how this is a big case?"
"More like huge."
"You can say that again."
"Saving my breath."
Then James realized Clancy was leading him in the wrong direction. "Where are we going? I thought we were headed over to Insurion headquarters?"
"We are. But even the police don't know everything that goes on in the city. Sometimes, we have to meet with people in the middle of it all. You'll see."
They entered back on Market Street. Clancy led James to a bar, The Box.
"What?"
"Just go in, James."
The bar was moderately packed. Mostly blue- and white-collar guys relaxing after work. James followed Clancy to the back. A large African-American man was polishing a beyond-saving martini glass.
"Hey, Clance, what can I do for you?"
"Don't be friendly with me, Nika. Now's not the time."
"Whoa, whoa! Don't they teach you to show some respect at the police academy?"
"Yeah, but not to scum like you."
"Scum like me have kept you alive sometimes, squirt." James noticed that Nika was missing a respectable amount of teeth.
He was hastily introduced to the man and shook his hand, which felt like an electric eel in more ways than one.
"You've seen the news, Nika. What's going on?"
"You've already pushed some of the puzzle pieces into place, 'Tective. You tell me what you know, I'll fill in the blanks."
"Insurion. Headquarters. Something about covering up tracks. Permits, agreements, deals. But something pretty big is missing. And a whole lot of little stuff. Your turn."
"Blue and his guys have been hanging around here a lot recently. You know them."
"Who's Blue?" It was the first thing James had said.
"Jay Wickman. I'll tell you later." Then, adressing Nika, who had finished polishing the cup and now laid his hands on the bar in a carefree manner: "What about them? They hang around just about everywhere."
James surpressed his shock and listened intently. "It's all a distraction. The shooting. The robbery. Notice how there are, like no cars anywhere? OF course you would."
"For what?"
"I couldn't overhear the rest. The bar was rocking that night. Loud as hell."
Clancy cursed the "rockers" who had been there that night. "That it?"
"Something to do with headquarters. The one near TransAmerica. That's all I heard."
"That it?"
" 'Fraid so, 'Tective. If you left now, it would be our shortest meeting on record. Four minutes." James noticed his watch was a genuine Rolex, not a knockoff.
Clancy stared intensely into the man's eyes, trying to read out the truth. Then, convinced that he had wrung everything out of Nika, he thanked him, dropped a couple bills on the counter, and left with James, rushing out.
"To headquarters?"
"Yep. Hurry up, will you? Time is everything."
Travis banged on the elevator door in frustration. He had fifteen minutes left. And in no was was Blue bluffing about the "or else". He felt sweat on his head. He never felt sweat.
Finally, it opened onto the 34th floor. He sprinted out and almost passed room 3408. He jammed the card in and swung the door open.
No one was inside. Lucky for them, because by now they would have been dead if there had been.
Travis pried open the bathroom door, almost ripping it off its hinges. He wrung open the cabinet under the sink and reached for the detenator.
But it wasn't there. He blinked and looked again. Then again. It wasn't there.
He hit his head in frustration and looked everywhere in the bathroom. Nowhere, even the toilet. Then he walked into the bedroom.
He searched under the bed, in the covers. He ripped open the pillow, looked behind every item imaginable. He looked everywhere twice and then once more. Nothing. It was gone. Simply vanished.
He stood there breathing heavily and trying desperately to think positively, while at the same time not letting his deepest fears get to him. Then he looked out the window and saw the Insurion building.
He tore out of the room immediately.
Travis took the elevator again. By the time he reached the lobby, he had six minutes left. He didn't want to raise an alarm, so he forced himself to walk calmly through the lobby.
"She's coming," he told Brian, who was still standing there, staring ahead blankly.
"Your wife?"
"Yeah. Can you cover?"
"Sure."
"Thanks."
Once out of the hotel, he sprinted to the impossibly tall Insurion building. Four minutes left.
He used the employee card to get in and up the elevator. To the top of the 1100 feet tall building he went, where the bomb was apparently being kept.
The ride up was tense and his heart was racing faster than Secretariat.
Finally the doors opened. Two minute. Dos minutos. Whichever way you put it, he had 120 seconds to save his life.
He rushed through the aisle. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he guessed he was looking for the bomb. There was a buzzing sound in his ears.
He opened door after door in the hall, the brilliant views all around him mocking him. The buzzing got slightly louder.
Finally, he saw a man standing over a desk, bunching files into a carry folder.
"Hey! Who are you?" 80 seconds left. Somewhere, he felt the trigger man watching the clock. At 11:15, one way or another, the bomb would blow sky high.
"Wha-what?" The man was middle-aged, slender and balding.
Travis yanked the gun out of his pocket and pointed it at the man, fully aware that it had no bullets. The buzzing got louder.
"Who are you?!"
"Ja-james Underwell! I've worked here all my life. Don't shoot. I'll pay you anything!"
Travis's gaze shifted from the man to the files he was shoving into the folder rapidly. "What are those papers!?"
"U-uh, top secret! I can't explain! Please! I have a family..." The buzzing was even louder now.
"Where's the bomb?"
"I don't know! Please!"
"Did Jay put you up to this?" Forty-five seconds now,
"No! He staged this all! Please. There's no time! Let me go! I have to save these files!"
"Who paid you!?"
"Someone! I don't know! Really!" Thirty.
Suddenly, the floor to ceiling window cracked completely and James Underwell crumpled lamely.
Behind Travis stood Blue Jay Wickman. Twenty seconds now. Travis wanted to smash the ominously ticking second hand on his watch...
"Where's the bomb?"
"Somewere around here. I wish I could show you. It's pretty impressive. But you had to come out here, instead of doing your job over at the InterContinental." The buzzing reached a fever pitch, and it sunk in. Travis realized everything at once.
"You set me up." Ten.
Jay checked his watch as well.
"Kind of late for you to realize, isn't it?"He walked past over to the window and looked down fearlessly. The noise was deafening now.
Zero. But no flames burst into the air.
"There is no bomb, is there?"
"What do you mean?" The buzzing sound seemed to be approaching.
"It didn't go off at 11:15!"
"Sometimes you make exceptions, Travis. I needed the time to at least enlighten you a little. Enlighten you before..."
The buzzing sound revealed its source. A helicopter hovered right outside the bullet-shattered window, steady in the dangerous air.
"You're not too smart, are you, Travis? I suppose not. Because if you had any wits, you would have already shot me in the head instead of pointing that gun like an idiot." He took the trigger out of his pocket. He motioned to the helicopter's pilot.
"Bye, Travis." Then Blue Jay jumped onto the helicopter. And he threw the trigger into the room.
Travis lunged for it, and in slow motion everything happened at once. The helicopter turned and flew off into the night, graceful as a blue jay. Then he saw the trigger's light flicker from green to red. And last but not least, his hands connected with it as flames burst up everywhere.
The helicopter was out of range by then, and Jay Wickman shouted at the pilot, "Step on it! We don't have much time! Time is everything!"
Out on Kearny Street, James hustled to keep up with Clancy. Clancy had just finished giving him a whirlwind account of Jay Wickman's hidden persona and secret life, and had urged him to hurry up.
"Slow down a little, won't you?"
"Why don't you just hurry up, slow@ss? Come on. Time is everything."
"If you say that once more time, I'll punch your face in."
But all thoughts of punching his cousin's face in disappeared immediately. Because, as the two watched horror, the top of the Insurion building burst into flames. A huge fireball swallowed up the upper third of the futuristic, well, formerly futuristic-looking building, and Clancy silently put a hand up to his mouth.
"Damn."