Race

I was falling asleep.

A shadow came over me and I jolted awake.

Noel was examining my face.

“Did you get into a fight?” he asked, examining each of my bruises.

“No,” I said. “What’s makes you say that?”

“You look hurt,” he responded.

“You mean this.” I pointed to my upper lip with a laugh. “This is how I look when I don’t take my vitamins. I’ll be fine.”

He looked like he didn’t believe me. I really didn’t know why. I guess I don’t give children much credit. They’re much smarter than the cartoons they watch.

“Yeah,” I said. “I kind of got into a fight. But don’t tell your parents, okay?”

He nodded. It was our little deal. I wouldn’t tell his parents how he broke his arm and he wouldn’t tell his parents that I got into a fight.

Beadsworth came in with the cell phone in his ear. He said something and then hung up. He smiled.

“It was Garnett,” he said.

“Garnett got him talking?” I said.

“Better than that. We know where Nex is being produced.”

Moving through smaller streets we finally saw a familiar Toyota parked to one side. Garnett got out as we stopped behind it.

“It’s in that warehouse,” he said, pointing to a rundown building around the corner. I assumed many years of neglect had assisted in the building’s current state. Graffiti covered a good portion of the walls. The windows were cracked or broken, and some were boarded up. There was light coming from inside. “A large moving van came and took some equipment. Andwe know exactly where it’s going.”

“How?” I asked.

He bobbed his head toward the Toyota. It was then that I realized someone was inside his car. I tilted my head. It was Martin, the owner of the BUBBLE T SHOP. He sagged in the backseat with this head low.

I went over, tapped on the window and waved. He raised his eyes to me. I then made a fist. He turned and sagged even further.

I heard Garnett’s voice from behind. He was speaking to Beadsworth, “He’s willing to make a deal.”

I looked around the corner. Opposite the warehouse, a man walked past the front entrance and came towards us. I recognized him immediately-Nemdharry.

“There is a main entrance in the front but it’s bolted. There are two fire exits on either side-those won’t be any problem. We can cover the narrow paths easily. A large loading dock is in the back. On the northeast side there is a closed gate that leads to the dock. Terries is watching over it.”

“Clara is here?” I said and then realized I shouldn’t have referred to her by her first name. I didn’t even know her.

Nemdharry paid no attention to my slight. “Yeah.”

Two minutes later another car pulled up. Herrera came out. “I hope he’s not pulling our balls,” he grunted.

Ever since Barnes was hurt, Herrera had been on the edge.

Garnett and Beadswoth said nothing.

“He better not be shitting us.” Herrera looked in the direction of Garnett’s car.

Garnett finally said. “Carlos, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Herrera said. He pulled out his gun and checked to see if it was loaded. “What’re we waiting for?”

I was thinking that too.

Her makeshift office was bare, save for the lone desk and two chairs. Ms. Zee placed her elbows on the desk and her face in her palms. There was so much running through her mind, but in the end it was all directed towards one man. Peter Stankovich. Her ex-husband.

Peter Stankovich had stolen over four million dollars from the clients of the insurance company he had worked for. It was supposed to be a perfect crime. A crime so easy to accomplish that he wondered why no one else had thought of it.

He sent one hundred of his clients false invoices regarding their policies. In them, he inflated their monthly premiums. With the help of the funds accountant, he opened another company account, where the money was directly deposited. After taking the excess, he then forwarded the actual premium amount to the correct account.

At the end of each year, he sent each client an annual policy statement with the excess premium figures. For three years, no one noticed. The correct amounts were coming in from policyholders. Everything seemed normal. Until, one year the insurance company quietly hired an external company to prepare and send annual policy statements to its clients.

When clients received their correct statements they were outraged at the difference from what they were actually paying.

The insurance company received many calls, and all those calls were from clients of Peter Stankovich.

Peter Stankovich and the accountant were convicted of fraud and embezzlement in excess of $5000 and each sentenced to six years.

Peter Stankovich was cocky, arrogant, and cruel. That was the way Ms. Zee remembered him.

She clearly remembered what he had said to her the last time they had dinner together in their home. “You’re nothing but a stupid spoiled slut. Without me you’d be greeting customers at Walmart.”

She wasn’t stupid. Spoiled, yes, but definitely not stupid. She knew what he was up to and she did what he had done to his clients. She opened a separate account, one hidden from him, and each week deposited small amounts into that account. In the end she had a large sum.

With Martin, her lawyer, she took the divorce papers to Peter in jail and had him sign them. He wasn’t happy. It wasn’t the divorce that bothered him. It was the fact that she stole money from him. He tried to get her convicted too, but, as he had once, the jury thought she was just a spoiled housewife, incapable of anything devious.

It was at the jail visiting Peter that she saw Kong. He was in for assault, pending a trial. Through Martin she posted Kong’s bail. Then, she met Armand, and the possibility of out-doing her ex-husband came into being.

She lifted her head up and saw the empty room. She hadn’t had time to furnish it, which was a good thing. The only valuable object was the design of Nex.

Ms. Zee placed the papers in her briefcase and kept it close to her. She understood the situation. She was going to take the samples, which Ed Burrows would bring to her any minute now, and leave the country. She had many contacts and those contacts would be very useful in her escape.

With the process in her hands she could start her operations anywhere-in any country.

Burrows came through the door. In his hands was a sealed white container, the size of an icebox.

“There are five thousand in here,” he said.

Five thousand tablets of Nex, she smiled. This wasn’t a waste, after all.

“Where’s Martin?” Ms. Zee asked.

“I haven’t seen him,” he replied.

She quickly ordered Hause to go find him. Martin was going to arrange for everything. He was going to arrange her escape.

Hause came back shaking his head. Martin was gone.

Now she was worried.