Matt’s back struck the double doors and he thrust them open and bolted. He left his car. He’d come back for it later. He didn’t want them knowing what he drove. He tore down Virginia until he hit 8th. He glanced back and saw the sergeant was surveying his escape from the doorway, but the Taskmasters were nowhere to be seen. Matt kept on running.
The apartment building manager was gone for the night. Tuesday was singles’ night at the VA social. Matt hoped the old coot got lucky tonight, and even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t take long for Matt to skip out. He crammed all his belongings into an army surplus duffel and a box for an RCA TV. It was depressing to see that his worldly possessions accounted for so little, but he’d change that. The Taskmasters had given him a new perspective on life. He hooked the duffel over his neck and carried the box down to his Escort.
With no lot at the apartment building, he’d been forced to find street parking. He’d left his car four blocks from his place. He half-walked, half-jogged to his parking spot.
Reaching the spot, he slowed to a crawl and cursed. Another car rested in the space that had been filled by his car only hours earlier. He could be on the wrong street, but he knew better. His car was gone. He couldn’t believe someone had stolen the heap of junk on the one night he needed it.
Well, there was no way Matt was going to report the theft, and it wasn’t going to stop him from leaving town. The loss of the car meant he would be traveling even lighter. He carried the box of possessions over to a nearby dumpster. He’d hefted it to head height when someone kidney-punched him. Matt crumpled and the box crashed down on his head.
“Leaving town, son?” Harry brushed the box aside and hoisted Matt to his feet. “I thought you had a job to do.”
Resignation washed over Matt. There was no point lying or being scared. They’d tagged him at the police department. They’d probably been watching him all day.
“Where’s my car?”
“On the way to impound. Would you believe it was parked illegally in front of a fire hydrant? But I wouldn’t worry about that. You have other things to worry about.”
Harry signaled and the familiar SUV pulled a U-turn in the street and stopped in front of them. Stein was behind the wheel; Chalmers and Tripplehorn weren’t around. Harry jammed Matt into the rear of the vehicle and Stein reversed back into traffic. Stein kept to downtown, driving for a bit with no particular destination in mind.
“You betrayed us, Matt,” Harry said eventually.
Stein shook his head and said nothing.
“You wanted me to kill a man.”
“He killed a child.”
“But I can’t kill him. That would make me no different.”
Harry snorted. “If you don’t kill him, you’re no different than him. He’s a coward and so are you.”
This logic made Matt’s head swim. He wasn’t an executioner and the Taskmasters had no right thinking they could be either.
“Hang a left here,” Harry instructed.
Stein turned down an alley and stopped the SUV in front of a tow-away zone. Harry flipped Matt over and zip- tied his hands together. Both men dragged him from the vehicle and shoved him through a doorway. Matt didn’t know where he was. Panic blinded him.
The cops dragged him up flight after flight of stairs. Matt knew he should be pleading for his life, but he didn’t have the words. What argument was there worth making for saving his life?
Stein kicked open a door and the three of them ended up on a rooftop amongst vents and air-conditioning units. The sun had long escaped over the horizon. The streets below were alive with activity-everyone looking forward, but not up.
Harry shoved Matt down onto his knees and put a revolver against his forehead. Matt closed his eyes and waited for the trigger to be pulled.
“Open your eyes,” Harry growled.
Before Matt had a chance to respond, Stein kicked him in the back, sending him sprawling onto his face. With his hands tied behind him, he couldn’t lift himself up. Harry lifted him back to his knees, then bent forward and put his face in Matt’s.
“Play time is over, son. You’ve got to make your mind up. Are you going to kill this guy? Because if you aren’t,” Harry cocked the revolver, “you know we can’t have you knowing what you know.” Harry straightened and pointed the gun at Matt’s forehead again. “What’s it to be, son?”
Matt stared at the muzzle. Kill or be killed. What a choice. He would have liked to tell Harry to go to hell, but the man was probably right about him. He was a coward.
“I’ll kill him,” Matt said.
“Are you sure about that? I don’t want you repeating this disappearing act tomorrow night.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your head for your trophy room,” Matt snarled.
Harry smiled and lowered the gun. “Good.” He nodded to Stein, who cut Matt’s wrists free.
“I think you can find your own way back,” Stein said.
The Taskmasters headed for the stairs.
Reaching the doorway, Harry said, “And I wouldn’t think about running. Your picture is in the hand of every cop down at the bus station and train station. You could always thumb a ride or even steal one out of town, but know this: We’re watching you. You’re on a very tight leash from now on. Oh, and Matt…”
Matt looked up.
“You’ve got two nights. If Terrance Robinson isn’t wearing a toe tag by then, you will be.”
Terrance Robinson smiled and shook hands with the young couple. Their loan application must have been successful judging from their broad smiles. When the couple walked away, Robinson beckoned to Matt. Robinson walked him through the loan application procedure. He was very thorough and Matt nodded at all the right times. Robinson printed out an application, then excused himself while Matt completed the form.
Matt scanned the paperwork, then wrote across the top of the form:
Robinson returned to his desk and Matt handed him the application. The color drained from the loan manager’s face as the sheet of paper slipped from between his fingers. A response failed to make it past his lips.
“I know you killed that little girl and I’ve been sent to kill you.”
“I… I… didn’t.”
Matt held up a hand to silence Robinson’s gibbering. “Doesn’t matter. It’s been decided that you have to die.”
Robinson’s eyes flitted from person to person in the bank.
“They can’t help you.” Matt let him see the gun tucked into the front of his pants. “It’s closing time in a few minutes. Just excuse yourself early. You’re having a business meeting with me. Make a fuss and you’ll still have to explain the girl you killed. It’s a no-win for you. Are we cool?”
Robinson nodded.
“Good. Let’s go.”
Matt followed Robinson to the tellers. He told them he was leaving, then Matt guided him out the doors and onto the street. This was the tricky part. Robinson kept his car parked in a garage two blocks away. It wasn’t an inconsiderable distance in itself, but it was when there were hundreds of people filling the street and you had a frightened hostage in tow. But holding the barrel of the gun where Robinson could feel it kept him docile.
Matt made Robinson drive. When he pulled onto the street, Matt scanned for the Taskmasters. He didn’t spot them but he sensed them shadowing his every move. He couldn’t imagine them not being there at the kill. They’d still be worrying about him. Oh yeah, they would be close.
“Don’t shoot me,” Robinson squeezed out between sobs.
“You brought this on yourself. You shouldn’t have killed that girl.”
“I didn’t.”
“The least you could do is man up here.”
Robinson shook his head. “They sent you, didn’t they?”
Matt went cold. Robinson knew the Taskmasters. That couldn’t be right. “Who’s
