Chapter 18 - Jake Arrives

I felt the vibration of the Blackberry between my thighs and removed it to read the message.

Jake wrote:

Boss,

I am in the parking lot. See you soon.

Jake

"Was that Jake?" asked Andrea.
"Yeah. He's in the parking lot." My heart began to race as I informed her. It was showtime and we would either be in a much better position or a much worse one in about ten minutes. I looked towards the great room and heard no discussion. The soccer game must have been over by now. I looked up at the clock. 6:47. I didn't hear the Hispanic voice of Diego or Nordic accent of Stephan. What I heard was the pentamic voice of a newscaster. The network news was on its last fifteen minutes. I could tell there was no accent, yet the muffling effect of the glass doors made the words incoherent.

I wondered if the events in Flagler Beach were on the local, or even national network news. I had made the local news when we went public, but were to small to make national syndication. Would today's tragedy trump my previous localized fame with national infamy. "Death on the Beach - CFO kills motorist on the beach after raping her." Not exactly the type of headline one cuts out for a scrapbook.

Andrea was looking to me with a concerned expression. She was catatonic. Neither of us spoke as we waited for Jake, we were petrified like wood frozen in time and fossilized. I felt her staring at me as I stared past her through the glass doors to see what would come next and be prepared. If she did not see as well, we would both be at a disadvantage. "Come around and pretend to read what I have written," I said.

Andrea came around to my side of the desk, and under the guise of reading the press release, her eyes darted above the monitor periodically. All was still and silent save for the muffled newscast.

"Do you think Jake is on the roof?" asked Andrea.

I looked up at the clock. 6:56. Nine minutes had passed. "Could be?"

"How long will it take him to break through the skylight?" she asked.

I pondered this question. I didn't give Jake any specific directions since he was the professional at this stuff. I like to delegate and hoped he would devise a way to do it quietly to keep the element of surprise.

The vibration between my legs came again. I raised the Berry hiding it behind the monitor of the VAIO. Anxiety and tension rose for both of us as I pressed the button to read the newest message from Jake.

on the roof. skylight removed. lay on the floor to avoid stray bullets.

Andy looked at me, and I her. Without a sound we both slid under the desk and laid facing the glass doors. "I know you want to see as much as I do, but we would probably be safer against the east wall."

We both slithered east, Andy rested against the wall, and I spooned her, trying to block any stray projectiles that might come our way. The closet was directly above the study but I never heard Jake's entrance into the condo. Although pals for years, I had never been this close to Andrea or thought of her in a sexual way. I suddenly found myself strangely aroused. Maybe it was the fear, or my need to feel close to someone as I face the reality of dying,or simply the intoxicating combination of her fading fragrance. Then came the muted sound of silenced gunfire.

Clearly Jake must have put a silencer on his firearm since the audibility was far less than an air powered BB gun. I heard four pops in all. Then a great deal of cursing in what sounded like foreign dialect. Jake must have taken them by surprise since we didn't hear any return shots. Then I heard Jake's voice. He was commanding them, but I could not make out the words clearly. Finally all was silent. No cursing. No commands. No screaming. It was eerily silent.

Could Jake have slit their throats I wondered. I asked him to keep them alive. I un-spooned from Andrea and rose to my feet slowly as Jake removed the straight back chair from below the door handles and he entered the study.

"Good afternoon Ma'am." he said as he barged past me and offered Andrea a hand to rise up. "Thanks Jake," she replied.

"Sir," he said as a greeting to me, and extended his hand. I took it to shake, then he started maneuvering his large black calloused hand to embrace thumbs, then break away and finish with a closed fist thump, which I missed as any nerd would. He smiled, as did Andy at my expense for the un-rehearsed, clumsy geek handshake misfire. I felt like I was in high school again. I wanted so much to forget those days of social inadequacy. My revenge the career, the girls, the money. His revenge the ability to still thump the nerd after all these years.

After the embarrassment and release of adrenaline to my stomach, which mixed with the remains of the pizza, I felt overwhelmingly sick. "How are my guests?" I asked, hoping the answer was not "dead."

"Follow me," responded Jake as a proud artist would lead one to his loft of paintings. I followed and Andy reluctantly trailed behind. She had not witnessed the gore that I had on that hot July day and was therefore not indoctrinated to the sight of blood and death. She grabbed my hand from behind and held tight as a mother in a deliver room might hold her partner's, squeezing all the blood from his hand.

There was the fine performance art of Jake the Marine. Either Jake found the duct tape used on Andrea several hours before, or he brought his own. Either way, Stephan and Diego were both bound to dining chairs with the silver tape. Mouths bound as well, thus accounting for the silence despite the pain they must have felt from their knees that were obviously penetrated with bullets. The blood oozing through their jeans barely noticeable as the dark rock-washed jeans just seemed darker at the knees than other parts. Possibly closer to a hue of purple as the red mixed with blue denim.

"Just like you said Boss. Shoot them in the knees and keep them alive. They are all yours," offered Jake.

"Perfect," I replied. Although I did not care for having these thugs still in my house, this arrangement in role reversal was certainly a welcomed turn of events.