Parallelogram : Day Two : Chapter 41
Five Days, Fourteen Hours, Thirty Minutes
It didn't take long with the paperwork, and, with Lisa in tow, Richard DeMarco walked through the doors out into the massive parking lot for Truly Capitol Car Rentals. Together, they walked in silence down the long aislie, passing row after row of parking sedans, until they reached Lane K. They turned, marched up past the colorful models, and finally came to a halt in front of Space K39. DeMarco smiled, briefly studying the silver Jaguar XK8.
"Mind if I tag along?" Lisa asked.
Quickly, they slipped into the auto. DeMarco turned the key in the ignition, listened to the engine roar alive, and pulled out of the rental lot. He found the first exit for the freeway and headed for it.
"Where are we going?"
Reaching under his jacket, DeMarco found his cell phone. He pulled it out, flipped up the receiver, and hit the speed dial. Scrolling down the entries, he found what he was looking for and pressed the button.
"Richard?"
"Quiet, my sweet," he whispered.
The phone rang three times, and then he heard the click.
"Yes?" Arthur Pendley asked.
"There's been a development," DeMarco told him.
"What kind of development?"
"The kind you despise."
The driver jerked the wheel hard to the right, edging past a minivan for the exit ramp. Accelerating, he pulled the Jag onto the freeway, sliding easily into traffic.
"Whom did you kill this time?"
"The mission isn't complete," DeMarco confessed.
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Stop calling it a mission," Pendley cursed. "Once you've mastered control of your sadistic impulses, then you've earned the right to speak far more openly about your wishes and desires, Richard. Until then ... you're little more than an overgrown teenager."
Smirking, DeMarco spat, "I don't need you – of all people – lecturing me about impulse control, Arthur."
"What do you need?"
"I need a place to hide."
There was a long pause. Glancing in the rearview mirror, DeMarco watched as the cars disappeared into the distance. He noticed – per the speedometer – that he was passing 90 miles an hour, and he eased off the accelerator. There was no reason to alarm the local police – buffoons that they were – any more than he already had in killing one of their own.
"I have a place," Pendley finally replied.
"Really?"
"Yes. It's very secure ... but you're going to have to give me your word that you won't discuss it with anyone else."
DeMarco tilted his head back. "I'm not alone, Arthur."
"My hospitality ends with you, Richard. I won't harbor another fugitive."
"Why not?"
"You have no idea of the risks I'd be taking."
DeMarco smiled. He knew of the risk. After all, he had been there – as close to there as he could possibly get – and he could only imagine what secrets the underground facility deep beneath the Heston Tower concealed from the rest of the world. He would find out – in good time – but, apparently, not on terms he was willing to accept.
"Fine."
"I assume you're with another woman," Pendley taunted.
"Yes."
"Get rid of her."
"I don't wish to."
"I wasn't offering you advice, Richard," the man counseled. "If you want my help, I'm willing to give it to you ... on my terms alone."
He glanced out of the corner of his eye over at Lisa. She sat comfortably in the passenger seat, her arm cradled on the door rest, and she stared straight ahead, watching the cars ahead of them. She was smiling. He imagined that she was happy – happier than she had ever been – and he wasn't about to disappoint her. She had killed for him. She had killed her brother – the very man, the very kin that had opened this unique door of opportunity to her – and DeMarco wouldn't forsake her ... not yet.
"Fine."
"Where are you now?"
"Not yet," DeMarco confessed. "I have some business to take care of."
"Richard, please."
"Arthur, I will contact you once it's over."
"I can't promise you that I'll be able to help you at a later date and time."
"You will."
"How can you be so certain?"
"You always have," DeMarco chided the older man. "And you always will. It's like ... it's almost like you're a father taking care of your only son. You have that kind of devotion for me, Arthur, and I respect you for it. I admire you. It makes me wish that I had a son of my own ... but we both know that that is highly unlikely."
"God save us all."
DeMarco laughed. "I will contact you."
"When?"
"Soon," the terrorist assured him. "Very soon."
END of Chapter 41
