“Everything okay, Rick?”
The only four words in Rick brain flew out.
“What’s he doing here?”
“Who? You mean Tony? I don’t know. I think he’s here to report a crime or something. Come on. This way.”
Rick felt the location of the cloister and every detail of Kevin Reilly’s assault get stuck in his throat.
No way you pigs! Not yet.
The next sensation was tunnel vision. The desk sergeant came into view. All else disappeared. All else … except Gordy. He was there with his mother. It finally happened. The little turd had been kicked in the balls one too many times.
And the words that were stuck in Rick’s throat completed the journey outward.
“Fuck you, Lynch! The cloister is in the D building at Hallcroft! Get me back in that goddam room! I’ll tell you what happened to your asshole jerk-off coma cop too!”
He was in cuffs before the feeling returned to his hands.
Lynch got close.
“I know what you did for Sister Edwina. That’s going to help you. Keep your voice down, and when someone in the room offers you food, take it.”
He turned to any and all FBI agents within earshot of Rick’s confession.
“You heard him, everyone! Program ‘Hallcroft Mental Facility’ into your GPS’s and load up!”
20. Braden’s Room
Gomez put his partner on speaker.
“Give me some good news, Jaime.”
“The Cloister’s at Hallcroft. Do we know what we’re dealing with yet?”
Beck spoke.
“The short answer is ‘no,’”
Agents Russ Madigan and Paula Grant specialized respectively in explosives and IT. They were charged with determining the specific type and strength of Braden’s device. Between the trunk contents and a recovery of his browser history, they were quickly able to narrow it down to seven basic designs. They were, however, coming up short on a blast radius.
“We can tell what materials from the trunk were most recently used, but we can’t tell how much. We also don’t know what he used for a casing.”
“Send me what you’ve got. We’re leaving the station now.”
The call ended.
“Ma’am, I may have something here. It’s a stretch.”
“Stretching is good Paula. Please stretch.”
Grant had thoroughly routed Braden’s web activity and moved on to his application use. At the top of the list was a movie streaming service called CineChoice. She was lucky to launch it and find that Braden hadn’t logged out, so his viewing habits were easy to trace.
There was an anomaly.
“Most of these movies and TV shows are what you’d expect of a boy his age, except this one.”
THE BIG RED ONE
“Sounds like porn.”
“It’s a WWII pic made in 1980. Mark Hamill is in it, you know, Luke Skywalker…”
“Yes, thank you. I know who Mark Hamill is.”
“I’m guessing that’s how Braden linked to the film, but he didn’t just pass it by. He viewed it several times, including this morning. Obviously, there’s something in it he likes. Maybe it’s where he got inspiration for the design??”
“Maybe. If we run with this, what’s next?”
“We’ll hit the cinephile blogs and all the plot summaries we can find, but the thing is over two hours long. It would help if someone knew it. I don’t.”
“I’ve never heard of it. Have you, Madigan?”
“No.”
“Sergeant Gomez?”
“I’ve heard of it. I haven’t seen it.”
“Is there anyone we could ask?”
Ernie still had his cell phone out. He tapped it once and put it to his ear.
“Let me try something.”
21. The Station
Until five years ago, Boris Miller was Potterford’s favorite beat cop. A hip replacement put him behind a desk. He’d retire soon to his lake house in the Poconos.
The phone had been ringing non-stop all morning. It rang again.
“Potterford Pol…Hi Ernie…The Big huh?…What’s that?…Okay, I’ll try.”
He pushed two buttons simultaneously to activate the station’s PA system, and held his hand set to his mouth like a walkie-talkie.
“Hi, everybody. Pardon the strange question. Does anyone know about a movie called the Big Red One?”
Silence.
“Anyone? Anything at all? Okay, thank you.”
He was about to take Gomez off hold, when a single voice was heard.
“I do.”
Boris looked to the waiting area finding a single hand in the air. The smile on the boy’s face represented a combination of trepidation and pride.
“C’meer. The detective on the other end wants to talk to you.”
Gordy went to the desk and took the phone. It smelled like chocolate. He was glad to hear Ernie’s voice.
“Talk to us, amigo.”
“It’s a war film. Luke Skywalker is in it. That guy with the big nose is in it. He’s in a lot of stuff like that.”
The next voice he heard was female.
“Thanks, Gordy, but we know all that. Is there anything in the movie about planting a bomb or making a bomb or revenge or anything like that?”
“No, not really.”
“Are there any scenes that are particularly memorable? When you think of the movie, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?”
“I see what you’re asking. Yes, there is, but I don’t like to talk about it out loud. Just thinking about it makes me…”
“What? What Gordy? What is it?”
Gordy pulled the phone from his face and looked into the receiver as if to tell the person on the other end to calm down.
Jeez, it’s just a movie.
“There’s a scene where a soldier steps on a land mine, only it’s not a regular land mine…”
22. The Cloister
Arthur awoke from a fantastic sleep, one of those uninterrupted, dreamless, void of tossing and turning so you wake up with perfect hair kind of sleeps.
What a night.
Sex, drugs, booze, revenge…a hattrick plus one.
The sun hit his face through the skylight, announcing a new day of kicking ass and getting tail.
The room was quiet (the generators having long run empty) except for the occasional tousle and snore.
He’d done it.
