Milwaukee Deep

Agent Cheapston hid in the bushes across the road from 173 Westchester Avenue, New Jersey.

“Tom, do you copy?” he whispered into his receiver.

“Copy – can you see any movement in the house?”

“Negative. The house looks empty. It’s been – hold on I see something.”

Ganton walked past the lounge room window. He had been sleeping on the couch for the last few hours – resting from his ordeal earlier that day.

“He’s there. He’s heading into the kitchen round the back.”

Harding sat in his car two hundred feet down the road. He had his hand pressed up against his ear listening to the communication of the group, liaising with the team.

“Esterson, what’s your visual?”

“Confirmed. He’s heading to the back part of the house,” came the response.

“Any sign of the girl?” asked Harding.

“Negative.”

“That’s affirmative. No sign from where I am,” added Cheapston

Harding took a moment.

“Okay guys – we’ll head in from the front. Esterson, hold off and keep your position. Ensure coverage from behind the house. Do you read?”

“Copy that.”

Harding got out of his car and began walking towards 173 Westchester.

“Guys, now we need to take him out immediately,” he called into his receiver, “The clean up crew is standing by. We’ll terminate and then search for the girl. Once we have a visual we’ll call in the crew and we’ll evacuate the house.”

Cheapston stood up and headed to the front door.

“Paul, is he still in the kitchen?”

“Affirmative. He’s sitting at the table. You’ve got a green light from the front – repeat a green light,” replied Esterson.

“Don’t wait for me, Cheapers, you’ve got the go ahead,” added Harding.

Harding began to pick up the pace, now running towards the house. He saw Agent Cheapston near the front door and with him three other team members.

“Cheapers, do not keep him alive – terminate immediately. Do you copy?”

“Copy that. We’re going in.”

Harding watched as Agent Cheapston knelt at the door and began picking the lock. As the door opened Harding lost sight of his team momentarily as he ran up the steps of the porch and entered the house.

He heard three shots.

Harding made his way past the lounge room and entered the kitchen.

Agent Cheapston stood over the body. His weapon was still aimed at Ganton, while the other three agents began their search of the house.

“Good work, Cheapers. Stand down.”

Agent Paul Esterson entered the kitchen via the back door.

“You finally got one, Cheapers,” he said.

“Don’t even begin to get me started, Paul.”

“Sir!” came the call from the basement, “You better have a look at this!”

Harding looked across at Esterson.

“Stay here and keep away from that blood.”

Harding walked down the stairs of the basement and approached Agent Miller.

“What have you got?”

“She’s dead, Sir,” Miller said as he pointed at the body, “I’d say we’re about an hour too late.”

Harding looked at Hillary Willow, her arms and legs still bound, a plastic bag secured over her head.

“Put the call in for the clean up crew and get out of the house.”

“And her?”

“Untie her. She’s coming with us.”

Helen Crease walked into the bedroom and made her way towards the phone.

“Mommy, what’s the matter?” asked Emily who had followed her.

Helen turned around and saw her young daughter standing in the doorway.

“Nothing, sweetie, now go back downstairs and watch some television, while mommy makes a phone call, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Make sure you keep the television down, Jamie’s sleeping.”

“I will,” said Emily and walked out of the room.

Helen picked up the phone and dialled Sam’s number.

“Hello?” it was her husband.

“Sam, where are you?”

“I’m at work, honey – why, what’s up?”

Helen took a deep breath.

“Two men just turned up on our doorstep – they were looking for you.”

“What did they want?” asked Sam

“They said that they were with the FBI, but I didn’t recognise them. Sam, is everything okay?”

“What did they say, Helen?”

“They were very persistent – they said they needed to talk to you. They asked me all sorts of questions.”

“What questions?”

“About what you have been doing the last few days – who you’ve been with – whether I had noticed anything unusual – one of the men asked me if you had been unwell, whether or not you had displayed any symptoms of the flu.”

“The flu? Well, what did you tell them?”

“Nothing, I told them that you were at the office. Sam, what’s going on?”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.

“Sam?”

“Helen, do me a favour. Go to the window and have a look outside for me. Look for a car a few houses down – see if the two men are still there.”

Helen walked over to the window and pulled the curtain back a little – just enough to peek out. She scanned the street and saw nothing.

“There doesn’t appear to be anyone out -“

Helen noticed the front of a car underneath a tree about five houses down.

“Hold on, I see the headlights and the hood of a brown car, but I can’t make out if there’s anyone in it – there’s a tree blocking my view’.

“That’ll be them,” interrupted Sam, “Helen, listen I need you to do something for me.”

“Are you sure that’s them?”

“Helen, pay attention, now do exactly what I ask, okay? No arguments, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Pack an overnight bag, get the kids and go to your parents’ home.”

Helen was taken aback.

“You want me to go to San Francisco? Honey, are you serious?”

“Helen, listen to me, I don’t know exactly what’s going on right now, but I’m not comfortable with you being home alone,” replied Sam

“That’s why you should come home right now, and then we won’t be.”

“Sweetheart, I can’t. Something is going on here and I need to stay where I am for the moment.”

“Sam, you’re scaring me?”

“Look, sweetheart, please you need to leave the house and go to the airport. If these guys are who I think they are, they will follow you until you get on the plane. Once they know that you won’t be seeing me they’ll leave you alone, trust me. In a couple of days, once I figure this all out, I’ll jump on a plane and we’ll spend some time together in San Francisco, okay?”

Helen didn’t know what to say. Her husband’s tone, his request – things were moving fast.

“Helen, are you there?”

“I’m here.”

“Will you do this for me, please?”

“Okay, I’ll go.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. Call me when you get to the airport – I’ll say goodbye to Emily then. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Helen paused for a moment, “Sam, promise me you’ll be safe.”

“That’s a promise. Now go pack.”

Anthony Perks twisted and turned the T.V. antenna until finally the end of it resembled a fishing hook. He had pulled it off the television set that Harding had supplied him – an old unit with a rabbit ear antenna sitting on top of it.

“That ought to do it.”

Placing the antenna into the key hole of the iron door, Perks began to jiggle the thin metal rod as he tried to pick the lock.

“Come on you son of a -”

He jiggled and moved the antenna until…

…Click.

The lock released.

“Yes!”

Perks turned the handle and opened the cell door.

HHHe headed down the hallway – the same path he saw Harding take.

Opening the door at the end of the hallway Perks found himself standing in a large, abandoned warehouse.

Scanning the vast room – the four walkways above, an empty office at the top of the stairs, an area where three disassembled cars sat, Perks established he was alone. He walked briskly towards the roller door at the front of the warehouse.

Sliding the latch across, he raised the door and stepped outside. He looked around to get his bearings – he was in Sunnyside, the rail yards in the distance.

Sighting a service road that led to the expressway, Perks threw off his jacket and headed straight for it.

Running at a steady pace, Perk’s mind was set on nothing other than getting back to Manhattan - back to George Willow.