Chapter Eight
Joseph's POV
I woke up feeling sore at my back. Franco's couch was not the type that would give you the kind of sleep that will want you to crave the morning sunlight. Yet, one had to remember how they started.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty. Did you sleep well?" Franco teased me.
"You know I didn't. Your death trap really makes death seem better than sleep." I whined.
"Well, you are one to complain. At least you had some sleep while some of us pulled an all-nighter."
"At least you're being paid. Was it a success?" That was all I was hoping for.
"Your documents are perfectly forged. I assure you that she wouldn't even notice a thing." He said and tossed the contracts on my lap.
"I knew I could count on you, buddy." I smirked as I perused through. He was right. It looked too good. I almost thought he did not do anything to it. "What about the other job?"
"Well, hacking into a federal server without being traced is not an easy one, but lucky for you, this is not my first rodeo and I'm good at what I do." He blew his horn. I liked him because he can be as good as he is cocky. So, if he was so confident, then I'm very sure he did a very good job.
"Cut the chase, Franco. Tell me that the job is done."
"The job is done, Joey boy. It seems like one Mark Todd that lives in West Avenue, downtown area of Hollywood has pissed you off. Ex-military, did a tour in Iraq, has a sister who lives with him and a grandmother in New York. From what I can gather, he is much of a loner, so I'm sure that you can handle him." He dropped his bio on my lap. I massaged my neck. His military status did not scare me a bit. I have handled assassins in my previous life. I just don't like anything that will cause public attention.
"I don't see why an ex military with little connection to journalism would be so interested in the paparazzi lifestyle." I was a bit concerned about not connecting that dot.
"Well, maybe he needs a little extra to his pension, who knows? Anyway, it's something that I'm sure you can beat the answers out of." Franco responded.
He was right, by the way. I was an experts in The field of persuasion and torture, he would break if I wanted him to, and that is what I would do.
"Alright then, Mark Todd." I gritted my teeth. "You were the one that called for my attention, now I'm gonna answer."
Mark's POV
I couldn't stop grinning throughout the day. I was lost in ecstasy as I picked other passengers to their various destinations. There was something absolutely different about that lady from the airport. Even though my head was telling me that she is absolute trouble, my heart was singing a different song seeing the fact that we had just escaped from someone that looked like a homicidal maniac.
She looked like someone that was brought up on the other side of life, yet she didn't look like she had gotten her fair share of that life. She really looked like someone who had missed out on the spice of life.
I arrived home a few minutes past eight pm. It was still quite early, but seeing the fact that I had made some extra bucks today, I decided not to stress so much. My room by the end of the alley was just close enough to the railway to give me quiet and peace. Sometimes, I took long walks if I wanted to clear my head, or I just headed to the parks to watch people with their loved ones take a stroll or hang around like me.
This was what I did before coming home tonight. I saw a particular couple holding hands and laughing together and I couldn't help but imagine being in their shoes. Everything would just disappear at the moment, but the person in front of me. Her infectious smile piercing through every dark memory of Iraq and lit my heart. Everything else just made sense; it seemed right.
I fumbled my hands around my pocket and felt it. The only thing I had linking to her was not her name or her number. It was her phone; the one that was wiped clean of most of her information.
Back at home, I looked at the phone again and smiled, putting the phone on my chest as I closed my eyes to sleep. Sara, my sister must have gone for a sleepover at her friend's place. She never liked this place because of the noise anyway. Ever since we lost our father five years ago, I had to double as her parents too. I left the army and settled down in LA. We have been inseparable ever since. She had her usual teenage tantrums, but it got us closer.
I thought of seeing her again and the only option was to drive through the airport or her apartment everyday till I see her, but that would be less adorable and more creepy. I know that if I dug through the phone, I will be able to get her contact information. Maybe I will do that eventually, but I need to steer clear from her so that she can sort whatever she is going through and not let it meddle in my life; or Sara's life.
With that, I know that it is unwise to have the phone lying carelessly. I need to get rid of it. There was a false floor that slid open under my bed. I had put my Glock 23 pistol there and other things, including some emergency cash. No one, not even Sara knew about it. That was the safest place to put the phone. So I climbed down the bed, and pushed the bed aside. I knocked the floor several times till I found the hollow part of the floor. I pushed it back and it gave way. I put the phone there and hopped back on the bed. Soon enough, I was asleep.
***
It was barely six am in the morning and I was getting prepared to go to work. I could smell the air and I knew it was not good. Something was wrong. My military instinct kicked in and I knew better than to stay defenseless. As I was about to get my gun, I heard a knock on the door.
"This is the police, open up!" The voice sounded very unlike one who had undergone professional police training.
I was sceptical, but I went against my better judgement and towards the door.
"What's this about?" I asked.
"Your vehicle is tied to an investigation going on at the precinct. Were you at the Stalling estate around noon yesterday?" There were two officers standing at the door.
"Yes, I was. Like I asked, what's this about?" I asked, sternly.
"You will get your answers when you get to the station with us." The Mexican who looked like a junkie answered me.
"ID and badge please." I asked, refusing to move an inch. The junkie smiled and waved his police jacket to reveal his gun.
"Is this identification enough for you jefe?" He asked and I sighed.
I thought about roughing them up, but the other guy added.
"We know where you live, what makes you think we don't know who you are, Mark Todd? We know your sister and we would very much not like her to get involved. So, don't you think about playing super hero and just follow us. You got it?"
"You're not the police, are you?" I asked.
"We are who we say we are. We can be the fucking POTUS if we want to. Now move!" This time, he flashed his gun out. I raised my hands in surrender and I followed them out.
Whatever that mystery woman has gotten herself involved in must not be tied to her. I need to get my story straight as soon as possible.