He pressed the gun barrel more sharply into her back to dispel any notion she might have of making some grandstand play. Knowing she had no choice, she took the gun out and dropped it onto the floor as Emory walked down the steps and stood a few feet in front of her.
“The best laid plans, they say never come off exactly right, do they?” he said tauntingly. “Had you been a better wife, you might have been standing with us rather than against us.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean that the members of the company, we’re like a family…a dysfunctional family at times, but a family nevertheless,” Emory said. “Arturo, Bernie, Dennis, and Melinda…we fight and complain but we always stick together. Even Marcus, inept as he is, is still a loyal member of that family. And add Lisa who was our spy in Louis’ camp to that mix. They’re all on the plane behind me.”
She looked up at the windows and could see their faces appear.
“When I had to go to Louis Postadolas for money to save the firm, I knew what I’d be giving up, what we’d all be giving up,” Emory continued; “but at the time his money was necessary and we had no other options. It was always our intention to get rid of Louis and to reclaim what we had. In came Daniel Brent with his scheme to make us a lot of money, so we sat back and let it happen. We waited for the moment when we didn’t need Louis any more, and that time came. We knew Louis was a pig and would never leave on his own accord, so we hatched a plan to get rid of him. We were going to contact his former associates anonymously and tell them he had made a deal with the government to sell them out. Being men of violence, we figured they’d do the job for us. Somehow Slate upset it with his message that he wanted to talk, so we knew we’d have to speed up our timetable. I didn’t tell you anything because I wanted to wait until we succeeded. You never gave me much credit for being intelligent, so I wanted to surprise you. We didn’t know you would get involved and do our dirty work for us.”
Justine couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but the gun in her back made her very aware of how true it all was.
“That money you thought Bernie had transferred for you is still very safe right here in our bank where it’s always been,” Emory said. “And those bodies you left behind, well they’re on their way here right now and there has been no fire to alert anyone. Dennis made sure that the neighbor’s security camera had a nice coating of black paint put on its lens so there’s no chance anybody would know what went on inside that house tonight. The surveillance team that Dan had installed has been informed that their services are no longer required, so there’s nobody around who might check on poor Mr. Slate’s disappearance. And as for Dan, well I’ve had termination papers for him drawn up. When the police investigate, they’ll eventually find out that he was part of the burglary gang they were looking for. They’ll think losing his job drove him to crime As for Louis, I’m not sure anybody will really miss him; but if they do, I’m sure suspicion will fall on his former criminal acquaintances. Oh, and one more thing I thought you’d like to know; none of us mind going back to the old way of doing things before Slate came into the picture. With our new reputation for accuracy, our clients will stick with us while I engineer the sale of the firm. I’ve promised each one of our members a substantial share in the profits. I just wanted to let you know what you’ll be missing out on.”
“Then I’m in the clear,” Justine said. “Why can’t we just go on as we did before? Nothing needs to change.”
“Something has already changed,” Emory said. “You. I can’t trust you anymore.”
Sensing that she had little time left to plead her case, she scrambled for anything that would keep herself alive.
“What about Dan’s brother and that Ron and those other geeks that did the work on Slate? They’re loose ends in your perfect plan,” Justine said.
“Ron and those geeks as you call them have all been promised lucrative jobs within the firm upon graduation, so they have absolutely no reason to say anything about Slate,” Emory said. “Besides, if they did talk, they’d be incriminating themselves for hacking into governmental agencies. Dan’s brother will be in the car that’s transporting those three dead bodies. In fact, I think I hear it coming now.”
The big doors of the hangar started to slide open, and a black van pulled inside stopping near the plane. Two men got out and went to the back where they opened the van doors. One reached inside and dragged a black body bag forward so he could lift it onto his shoulders. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that the bag was occupied. The second man did the same, then both men ascended the steps to the pane and disappeared from sight. Within moments, they returned with the first man drawing out another body bag while the second tugged on someone’s bound legs. As the person was pulled forward, Justine could see that his hands were tied behind his back and that tape was plastered across his mouth. It was Richie, Dan’s brother. He too was lifted on the shoulders of the second man and the two repeated what they had done with the first pieces of cargo.
“We’ve decided to avail ourselves of the jet you ordered and the resort you booked,” Emory said. “We all figure a week’s vacation in some tropical paradise might do us all some good, especially in these stressful times. Unfortunately, you and Dan’s brother and the rest of those poor souls will only be going part way with us. They say the Caribbean is lovely this time of the year, and who better to know that than you. I’m sure that the view from 33,000 feet will be spectacular. You’ll have plenty of time to enjoy it as you’re falling. Your other companions will be quickly joining you.”
Emory nodded and Bernie put away his gun and secured Justine’s hands behind her back slapping a piece of tape across her mouth. He then taped her legs together and let one of the men hoist her on his shoulder. She was unceremoniously carried on board and deposited in the small galley in back next to Richie and the bodies.
“Here you are, gentlemen,” Emory said handing envelopes to the two men who had driven the van. “I’m sure you will find more than the price we agreed upon. You will make sure to dispose of the van so that it can’t be found.”
Emory pointed toward the cockpit and then scrambled up the steps followed by Bernie. The door was closed, and the plane started to taxi out of the hangar and onto the runway.
Emory’s first wife had divorced him because she said that he was boring; he wondered what she might say if she saw him now.
Ten minutes later, Flight FNJ156 was given clearance to take off. The plane began picking up speed as it jetted down the runway until its wheels left the tarmac and the nose of the plane pointed sharply upward toward the night sky. Inside the cabin, the dysfunctional family of employees and employer sat strapped in their seats, dreams of a week of fun in the sun staring them in their faces. Two hours later over the deep blue waters of the Caribbean , Mr. Average American, the boy wonder, his brother, the former arms dealer, and the soon to be ex-wife were plummeting through the air while the plane they had been in moments before flew uninterrupted toward its destination. It was the start of a new day in more ways than one. An ocean of money Dan had said; he’d be immersed in an ocean of money. Today, he was half right.
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