Typically, worry wasn’t in Sanders active vocabulary. By early the following morning he hadn’t started worrying yet, but Jordan checked in whenever the situation on a mission was stable and it had been over twelve hours since they had met on the parking garage. He knew that there were a dozen reasons for a communication breakdown, especially out in the boonies. Still it was probably time to cut his losses. If Jordan and his crew were successful then he could always come back and complete his business here after recruiting a replacement for Owen. If not then it would be wise to be elsewhere. Not that he was going to let Mr. York and friends off that easily. He placed a phone call to an unlisted number. Even at this hour he knew that it would be picked up.
Chief DeWitt heard the annoying chirp of the gunmetal colored micro cell phone that was never far from his side. The damn thing was so small that it needed an external mike and earphone to really answer it and forget dialing. It used voice recognition for those few calls he made to the only person that mattered. He reached out from under the covers and grabbed the earbud. In a hushed voice he answered. “Tesseract.”
“Promised one,” said Sanders completing the code. “We need to meet. One hour. The usual place.” He disconnected the call.
Chief Paul DeWitt had been under the man he knew as Sander’s thumb since the day he had graduated from the Academy. He had committed a number of indiscretions involving prostitutes that would have ended his career before it began. Suddenly this man was in his life and made everything go away. Paul had risen fast through the ranks and had power that he only dreamed off. It wasn’t just the job, no. If he needed anything, near or far, he need only go through channels to the man and it was done. The only thing was it cut both ways. Paul hadn’t needed to do much and certainly nothing that had caused him to lose any sleep at least not these days, but Sanders creeped him out in a big way.
Well he knew the penalty for being late, so he swung his legs out of bed, leaving his wife of thirty-five years sleeping. It was four-fifteen according to the clock on his bedside table, so dawn was still a good hour off. He dressed in a dark blue running suit and walked into his office. There he retrieved a Browning nine millimeter pistol and a warm jacket. He’d need the latter and had used the former a few times in his master’s service.
A half hour ride to a city park and he stood under a huge oak tree waiting in the cold. A hood shielded his face from any onlookers, not that there were any at this hour. The wait seemed long, but he was sure that Sanders was on time.
“Chief DeWitt.” The huge man’s voice rumbled the name. He was dressed in his usual dark suit and wore no overcoat.
Nothing seemed to affect the man. “Sanders. What can I do for you sir?” He looked up into the impassive face. The day they had first met he looked just as he did now whereas Paul had gained wrinkle and a little weight and lost more than a little hair.
Sanders enjoyed that part of his position most. The fealty, even worship from some of his darker companions warmed him. And he could see no reluctance or questioning in this law man’s face. He could probably ask DeWitt to shoot his own wife and he would. “As you know, this matter with York and Winston has gotten increasingly complex. I brought in some additional help and that may have resolved the matter, but one can never be too sure. An urgent matter calls me out of town and so I must make certain that if they fail, you will be able to clean it up.”
“Of course.” Paul said quietly. He thought briefly about asking why Sanders hadn’t just left the whole thing to him, but the powerful man was no doubt wiser.
“I want you to make sure that York and any friends he has that are involved go down for the crimes against the holy man, the police officers, and a rather large explosion that will be happening tonight.” He waited for the expected answer. It didn’t come right away. “Well?”
“Yes sir.” DeWitt’s shoulders slumped.
Sanders stepped closer. “What is it?”
“Well I hate to bring it up, but Winston is a good cop. I’d hate to lose him.” He looked up.
“Why would you lose him? What’s the situation on your end?” Sanders almost snapped.
“It seems that a lady friend of his has inadvertently taken a poison of some sort. She’s in the hospital in pretty bad shape. He thinks it’s related to his investigation. Is it, sir?” asked DeWitt.
Sanders nodded. “It was intended for him. He was to have taken it before he left the hospital. The individual responsible has failed.”
“That explains it. He called in and said that someone tried to kill him. He’s going to try and find out who. I had a couple of uniforms check out his house and he’s left his badge and seems to have gone rogue. Combine that with the fact that he resisted the idea that York is responsible and it would seem he’ll come around to you and me eventually. I tried to pull him off, but once he gets on a trail he’s just like an old bloodhound. He won’t quit.”
Sanders looked thoughtful. “Loyalty is a good thing, especially in out organization. We always reward it appropriately and punish for the lack of it. Don’t forget that you’re the one who said that he was not a good fit for us. Never forget that your first loyalty is to us and that any of your men are but pawns, to be used and thrown away as necessary.”
DeWitt nodded.
“And,” Sanders continued, “if he’s such a good cop it is possible that he already knows more about us than is good for him. That could endanger your position or perhaps your life. We can only protect those so far.” He didn’t mind explaining things like this to his underlings. Blind obedience was useful, but he found that even the flimsiest of rationalizations could get people to do all sorts of things. “It’s also possible that he has been converted to the zealot’s cause. If York was not afraid to kill Owens, what makes you think he wouldn’t kill you? Whether York knows it or not, he’s working for those that oppose us and as such his life and the life of any working with him are forfeit.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry that I doubted you.” DeWitt bowed his head. “By going off on his own Lee’s been disloyal and must be dealt with.”
Sanders raised DeWitt’s chin with the tip of his forefinger, like a father might do with his son. “It is alright. You’ve done well for us and your work will be rewarded. I do not doubt your devotion. Now go and set things in motion. If you need anything I will be available until late this afternoon.” He turned and walked towards the wrought iron gate.
Sanders now focused on his next goal. He had acquired a silver Mercedes and a trunk full of supplies for tonight’s bon voyage. Destroying the coffee shop would certainly bring him a thrill. He would have to go underground for a little while after he left here. That always meant giving up a certain number of life’s little pleasures. If one were going to fast it was always nice to have a feast first. He recalled with some relish the face of the little red head and her black skinned beau. Hopefully they would be present, but if not he felt certain there would be someone to vent his homicidal desires on.
