Chapter Sixteen
Veronica couldn't sit still. She kept pacing back and forth in her office with her phone to her chin. She could not understand why there was still no feedback from Burton. The last time she spoke to him was 30 minutes ago and that was more than enough time for Jason Raids to burn down Hell and turn Earth upside down. For Christ's sake, she needed to be in the loop! She wanted to know his every move. He was her only live lead, but people like him were never good at playing by the rules or following orders and she was the one in charge of this whole business. One crazy move from him could jeopardize her career and her lofty ambitions. Oh God, where the hell's Burton for crying out loud? And why the hell is the bastard not answering his fucking phone?! In anger, she threw her phone across the room and it landed in the trash bin. That's where you belong, you bastard, she cursed. Then suddenly, she heard it ringing! With the speed of a child, she rushed to her trash bin and picked up the phone, holding it with reverence as she checked the screen. Thank God!
“Burton, where the hell are you?”
“Market street, ma'am. I...”
“What the hell are you doing there? Where's Raids?”
“Lost him, ma'am,” came the soft reply.
“What! You did what!”
“I.. I was tailing him and the bastard just doub...”
“Look, you better start searching for him right this minute or you can take yourself to hell with the fastest spacecraft NASA ever made before I pounce on your worthless hide. You hear me?”
“Yes ma'am.”
She disconnected the call and threw the phone back into the waste bin. Recollecting herself, she picked it up and threw it on the lone sofa in her office. Her head was on fire. Jason, Jason, Jason.. oh fuck you, Jason. She paced about, massaging her temples with her fingers, trying to think of what next to do.
*****
It took quite some effort. Pulling a six-foot 300 pound adult male like Ron and sitting him on a chair was not very easy for a man of Jason's size who was just over half his friend's weight. He bound his arms behind the chair and his legs to the legs of the chair. There was no way he could break the chair without injury to himself. And last he checked, Ron loved his body too much.
Soon, the big man came around. He began with groans and complaints about his neck and tried to pull his hands from whatever was holding them. Then suddenly, everything came back to him. He jerked up his head and focused two venom-filled eyes on Jason.
“I swear to God I'll break all the bones in your body if...”
“You'll have to get outta that chair first,” Jason returned with a curt smile. “I don't have much time, you know.. so why not save us some trouble and tell me where Randy's hiding.”
“I told you, I.. don't.. know.”
“You never were good at lying, Ron,” Jason chuckled, fiddling with some items behind the chair. “I know you and Randy are as tight as leggings. You better start talking, man. You have 5 minutes or...”
“Or what?”, Ron sneered.
“You'll find out soon enough. Your time starts now.”
***
“Your time's up, Ron,” Jason said, minutes later, staring at his watch. “Still not gonna tell me what I wanna know?”
“Got nothing to tell,” Ron grumbled.
“See here, Ron. Like I said before, I have very little time and none to waste. You have three options. I know you open that door with your fingerprint, so option one, I'll cut off your finger, open the door and call the FBI to do a proper sweep of this place. I'm guessing the forensics team will find some interesting things that might be useful in tracking convoys and spoofing comms. Option two, it will be uglier, but much faster and I don't wanna have to resort to it.. that's waterboarding. Three, I could choke you with this here until you tell me where Randy is. So choose or I choose for you.”
“Go to hell,” Ron spat.
“As you wish.”
With the speed of light, Jason threw a large plastic bag over his friend's head and gathered the open end tightly behind his neck, cutting off air for breathing. Ron thrashed his large head wildly as he struggled for breath, but Jason held on tight like a lion perched on the back of an elephant. In a moment, the thrashing was reduced to slow movements as Ron gradually suffocated, some part of the nylon sucked into his mouth as he emitted chocking sounds like an asthma patient. Just then did Jason pull off the bag and Ron sucked in precious air in gasps.
“Had enough, huh? Or shall we try some waterboarding?”
“Fuck you,” Ron gasped breathlessly.
“As you wish, my friend,” Jason shrugged. “Things are a little short around here, but I'm sure we'll make do.”
Walking into the tiny bathroom, he searched around for towels and a bucket.
“Wow. Not as short as I expected, Ron,” he shouted from the bathroom.
Ron made no reply. He was still trying to catch his breath, his chest heaving with each effort. Jason soon returned with a bucket of water and some towels.
“I checked to make sure they're clean,” he said as Ron focused angrily on him. “You know this is gonna get ugly, Ron. So take my advice and fill up your lungs.”
“Why the hell are you doing this?”, Ron croaked suddenly.
“Well,” Jason shrugged, arranging a towel. “Randy's gone haywire and started killing people, so I've gotta find him pretty fast and if you weren't one fucked up son of a bitch, you wouldn't stand in my way. Now let's get this going.”
“Wait!”
Jason stopped and focused on his friend.
Ron seemed to be struggling with himself about what to say. After a few seconds of silence, Jason picked up a towel and reached for the bucket again.
“Okay! Fine. But I'll kill you after all this is over.”
“You're welcome to try. Gimme the location.”
“First, I need a guarantee that I'll be immune from prosecution and protected until Randy's dead or locked up.”
“Kidding, are you?”, Jason smiled. “You're lucky if you don't join him.”
“Then we've got nothing to talk about. I never meant to hurt anybody. Randy never told me what exactly he wanted to achieve with my help. So none of this is my fault.”
“A normal person would fight to compensate for his role in all this, but that's not you. Since you only think of yourself, you should know that giving me Randy is your only shot at freedom. If you don't give me his location, you get shipped off to prison. If you do, I walk away and...”
“Randy comes after me,” Ron completed with chagrin.
“He won't.”
“And how're you so sure?”
“Cause I'll go after him myself. He'll be dead or behind bars for a long while. I give you my word.”
“Your word,” Ron scoffed. “What's that worth?”
“Look, I have no time for debates here, Ron! Tell me what I wanna know or we'll continue from where we stopped."
There was a few seconds of silence and then,
“My pocket. The location's in my phone.”
“Better not be playing games with me.”
Carefully, Jason inserted one hand into Ron's lone pocket which was on the right side of his shorts. He took care to keep quite a safe distance from the big man lest he try any stunt. Slowly, he fished out the phone.
“How do I open it?”
“Fingerprint. Right thumb.”
Jason went behind him and pressed his right thumb to the fingerprint scanner. After the phone was unlocked, Ron directed him on how to access Randy's location. Jason thought about copying it over to Tony, but quickly abandoned the idea. Who knows who could be around him? Pocketing the phone, he set about returning the bucket and towels to the bathroom.
“Hope you ain't taking my phone,” Ron growled.
“How am I supposed to get the address?”, Jason asked innocently.
“Write it out or something.”
“No. Thanks.”
He looked around and finding everything to his satisfaction, proceeded towards the door, unaware that Ron was watching him with a sly smile on his face. Getting to the door, Jason suddenly remembered that the door could not be opened without Ron's help.
“How do I go through, Ron?”
“Ask your grandmother,” his friend mocked.
“Fine.” He looked about as if searching for something.
“What are you looking for?”, Ron asked, quite warily.
“Don't worry. Found it,” Jason smiled, raising a pair of cutters.
Quickly, he moved behind Ron and started searching for his thumb.
“W.. what are you doing?”, the big man asked in a shaky voice, twisting his neck in an effort to look behind him. Jason said nothing. He went on fumbling with the fingers of Ron's tightly tied hands.
“Aha. Found it.”
He grabbed his right thumb, clamped it with the cutter and started applying pressure. Ron gasped, his eyes wide.
“The phone.. the phone! Use the phone!”
“How?”, Jason asked calmly, applying more pressure and looking determined to severe the thumb.
“I'll show you! I swear I'll show you.”
Jason dropped the cutter and pulled out the phone. Once again, Ron gave him directions and the door clicked open.
“One more thing, Ron. Unless you want me to take your thumb as a souvenir, you'll tell me how to take this fingerprint scanner out of work. I need to use the damn phone anytime I want.”
Without hesitation, Ron directed him on how to disable the phone's security.
“Thank you,” Jason smiled. “Nice meeting you again after so long. I would shake hands but... it seems you've got a lot on them. Later, Ron.”
With that, he headed out of the room. He had not gone past the door when Ron called out to him. “Hey! How am I supposed to get out of this?”
“Find a way,” he called back.