Milwaukee Deep

Sam eased up to the curb and turned off the engine.

“What are we doing here?” asked Michael.

Sam took a deep breath.

“This is your home…it’s where Kelly lives – apartment 8-A,” he replied.

Michael looked up at the five story apartment block building.

“Are you sure?” Michael asked. “I don’t remember living here.”

Sam stayed calm.

“Well, actually, Michael, you never have. Your file stated you lived in Trenton. But that was eighteen years ago. Now Kelly, your wife, lives here in Harrison.”

Michael’s bottom lip tightened.

“She’s lived here for eighteen years alone?”

“I’m not too sure when she moved here, Michael.”

Sam knew any change would be difficult for his passenger to comprehend, but he also knew that he had to continue to be upfront and honest.

“Michael you’ve been gone eighteen years - she’s had to raise Marianna on her own – sometimes people have to move to a new home to find a better way to live.”

Michael went silent – he lowered his head.

“Is she up there with Kelly?”

“Who?” Sam asked.

“My daughter.”

“No, she’s not. She’s in college, remember? I told you about this before – Arizona State.”

“Do you know what she’s studying?”

Sam paused and looked at Michael.

“Michael, why are you asking me these questions? Your wife is waiting upstairs for you – why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Michael nodded his head slowly.

“I know. I’m just…”

“I understand – now trust me, go see her, you’ll see everything will be all right.”

Michael looked back at the only man he feels he can trust.

“Thank you Sam - I haven’t said it, but I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

“You’re welcome, Michael – but remember this isn’t over. I’m going to give you some time with your family now, but tomorrow afternoon I’ll be back – there is still a lot to discuss – we’re going to need to run some tests – we still need to get to the bottom of this.”

“Tests? What tests?”

“Don’t worry about that now, Michael. Go upstairs and see your family and let’s discuss this tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

Sam reached over to the glove box and pulled out his business card. He handed it to Michael.

“Now if you need me for whatever reason before I contact you, don’t hesitate to call me anytime, day or night, okay?”

Michael took the card and paused, overwhelmed by the emotion of the moment and the impending reunion with his wife ….

“Okay, thanks.”

“Now go. Go and see your wife.”

Michael smiled at Sam and opened the car door. He stood and watched Sam drive off.

He turned around as Sam’s tail lights disappeared down the street and looked up at the building that housed his family.

“Apartment 8-A,” he whispered.

He didn’t notice the unmarked Ford fifty yards up the road.

“Cheapers, target is now free from Federal custody…repeat, target is now open.”

Secretary of Defence, George Willow, stood up immediately as the two FBI agents walked into the hotel suite together.

“Well it’s about time,” he said loudly, his tone reflecting his mood.

The Secret Service Agent who opened the door to let in both men immediately left the room and stood post on the outside.

“Sorry, Sir, but I told you I had to follow up on those fingerprints,” replied Perks, as he placed his briefcase down on the large oak desk adjacent to the surveillance equipment set up to monitor the Secretary’s incoming calls.

“And what did you find?”

Perks briefly looked across at Myles and then turned his attention to his briefcase. He unzipped the leather case and pulled out a file. He walked over to Willow and handed him the file.

“What’s this?” asked the Secretary of Defence.

“That, Sir is the file of the man who has daughter,” Perks said, “problem is he’s dead.”

“What?”

“Sir, have you heard of a man called David Reese Ganton?”

Myles focused in on Willow’s reaction.

Willow stood there silent.

“Sir,” repeated Perks, “Have you?”

Before Willow could reply, his cell phone rang…

He took it out of his pocket, thankful for the interruption.

Willow looked down at the number.

Perks could see Willow’s reaction as he stood there staring at the phone

“Sir, what is it?”

Willow looked up at Perks – the phone was still ringing.

“It’s my daughter’s cell number.”

Perks turned to Myles….

“Quick, get the tap happening now!” he ordered in an urgent whisper.

Myles ran over to the surveillance equipment and flipped open the laptop stationed on the far desk.

The phone continued to ring

“Don’t answer that until we get the trace to your number set up,” urged Perks as Willow looked at him.

“Well how long!?” Willow demanded

“A few more seconds,” yelled out Myles as he frantically typed away on the computer….”okay, got it!”

Willow flipped open the phone…

“This is George Willow,” he said, his voice croaky, his mouth dry.

“You son of a bitch,” said the voice on the other end of the line.

Willow didn’t respond - he didn’t have to, he knew exactly who the other person on that line was.

“Well, don’t you have anything to say?!”

Willow finally found the courage to respond…

“What have you done with my daughter?” he croaked.

“Nothing yet, George, but she’s here – she’s waiting for you.”

“What do you want?”

“Your soul, George – I want your fucking soul.”

“Keep him talking,” whispered Perks.

“What have you done with Hillary?”

Ganton ignored the question.

“Do you have any idea what I have been through for the last twenty years?”

“I could only imagine,” Willow calmly replied.

“NO YOU FUCKING CAN’T!” Ganton screamed through the phone.

There was a brief silence – Ganton taking the time to compose himself.

“Is the FBI with you in the room?” he asked calmly.

Willow looked at Perks.

“Answer the FUCKING question, George!”

“Yes, yes they’re here.”

“Good.” Ganton took a deep breath. “Tell me, did they find the shoe - the cloth in the bin? I’m sure they did. You know what that means don’t you, George – they’re almost there – they’ve nearly figured this out.”

Willow’s grasp on the phone tightened.

“But let’s speed up the process, shall we. Now tell them, I know they’re listening, tell them the reason why you sent me to hell.”

Willow didn’t respond.

“Got him – 173 Westchester Avenue, New Jersey,” whispered Myles.

Perks rushed over to Myles and bent down to his ear…

Willow watched with anticipation.

“Excellent, send all units to that address – have them scan the area and set up a perimeter – make sure SWAT are on route as we roll.”

Perks gestured to Willow to continue with the phone call – his thumb up as he reaffirmed to the Secretary of Defence that they had their man.

“George, you tell them now where you sent me and why you sent me or your daughter dies – do you understand ME!”

Willow froze. He looked over to Perks who was starting to coordinate the capture of his daughter’s kidnapper. He watched as Myles began dialling his cell phone….

“Hold it!” Willow called out.

Perks and Myles looked up at the Secretary of Defence.

Willow shut the phone and ended the call.

Perks eyes widened.

“No one’s going anywhere!” Willow called out, “You,” he looked at Myles, “stop your calls, now!”

Myles, without thinking put his phone down on the table.

Perks started his way over to the Secretary.

“Sir, do you know what you just did?”

Willow moved in fast as Perks approached and with one swipe hit him square across the jaw, dropping him to the floor.

Before Myles could react, Willow had already pulled the gun out from behind Perks’ suit jacket and pointed it directly at him.

“You! Get your gun out and place it on the table and move away, now!”

Myles froze.

“NOW!”

Myles reached in for his weapon.

“Slowly…good now put it on the table. Now, sit down on the sofa over there.”

Myles walked over the cream leather sofa and slowly sat down.

Perks began to move slightly.

Willow turned the weapon to the man on the floor.

“Get up, Perks – over to you partner.”

Perks slowly got up off the floor and made his way over to Myles – both men still too much in shock to say anything.

With one eye on his prisoners and the other on his cell phone, Willow dialled the number.

He waited patiently until the call was answered…

“Harding, it’s Secretary of Defence George Willow. I want you and a team of your men at the Four Seasons A.S.A.P. We’ve got an issue – the FBI has been exposed to Milwaukee Deep.”