A Meet up
Chapter 13
Fi and Sam were definitely being tailed by the same black car that had been following them two nights earlier.
But this time they were determined to learn the identity of the driver. For now, they theorize that it could possibly be The Butcher, Gideon Hunter.
The plan was to stop the car and confront the killer. As they traveled down Florida Avenue in Fi's rented car, she looked around for somewhere to stop and finally a smile curved on her lips.
"There!" she nudged with her head, "we'll park over there."
Sam looked towards the direction she had been looking, "You're kidding, right? Tell me you had a slight moment of insanity…in other words, you were just being you for a second."
The Sacred Heart Catholic Church was one of the oldest churches in the city of Tampa, its architectural style being Romanesque Revival. The granite and marble structure included a 135-foot dome, solid oak doors and 70 stained glass windows. The popular city landmark was known not only for its stylish design, but also for its rich history.
"That busy church plaza will be perfect," decided Fi, "There will be plenty of tourists around."
"Which is the exact reason why we SHOULDN'T stop there," Sam said.
"Why not?" Fi pointed out, "I like the idea of God being my co-pilot."
"It'll be better for everyone if you two swap seats!" suggested Sam.
"Good," Fi agreed, "Then I could ride shotgun."
Sam gave a reluctant sigh, "Okay...fine...you win...the church it is...that way, we could also pray for our lives at the same time."
As they looked for a place to park, it was obvious this place was a populated area. A tour bus had just discharged a load of tourists. The narrow street down which they drove was lined with small shops selling ceramics, mosaics and souvenirs.
In the center of the Church square stood an ornate, working fountain.
"Let me off here, Fi," suggested Sam pointing at the fountain, "I could join that group of tourists and you can join up with me once you park."
She agreed and stopped the car as Sam stepped off. Later, Fi, too, was in the midst of the bustling plaza and the two of them tried not to look conspicuous as they milled around the plaza.
It was a lively scene at the square; vendors hawking their wares of handbags, books and keychains; a costumed photographer inviting potential clients to take pictures; a tour guide heralding his group to enter the church doorway.
"Do you see him at all?" said Sam, trying to peer through all the people, the noise becoming deafening as the number of bodies rose.
"No...not yet," said Fi, "but he should be easy to find…I saw him step out of the car before he disappeared in the crowd...he is wearing a black t-shirt with blue jeans."
"Oh yeah," said Sam sarcastically, "t-shirt with jeans? Should be easy to spot since he's wearing such unique clothing! All we need is for him to be on fire and I might be able to recognize him!"
"Just...watch my back, Sam!" suggested an exasperated Fi, "and if you see anyone with dark hair, beady black eyes and is being beaten into submission by me, that's him!"
"Yeah, yeah, I got your back.."
Soon the two of them mingled in the crowd. Sam decided to stay with the tour group going up the stairs to the church while Fi chose to hang out with the wave of people wanting to buy souvenirs at the vendor booths on the plaza.
The top stairs of the church afforded Sam an entire view of the square. As he waited, he could hear the tour guide expounding the history of the church:
"The initial wooden-frame building called St. Louis Church was erected on the site where Sacred Heart stands today," the guide was saying in that same monotone, memorized manner, "In 1888 a convent was added for the nuns who became the handmaids of the Lord….Now if you step inside the church, you may even catch sight of some practicing nuns."
"Excuse me, sir."
A policeman was looking at Sam as Sam stood at the topmost stair landing. Sam turned and gave the law officer his friendliest smile.
"Good afternoon, Officer!" Sam said, "No trouble here, as you can see."
"Sorry, sir," stated the policeman, "You'll have to move along. We keep this area available for tour guides and their groups."
Sam could not leave this area; it was the ideal spot to get a view of the swelling crowd.
"Chuck Finley, tour guide extraordinaire," he stuck out his hand at the policeman, who looked at him with uncertainty.
"Tour guide, eh?" questioned the officer, "and just where is your tour group, then, Mr. Finley?"
Sam did not skip a beat.
"Why, getting a ten minute break to mill around a bit with all the vendors, of course," stated Sam, in all sincerity.
The policeman's expression told it all; he didn't believe Sam for one second.
"Perhaps it's time for you to get your group back together," suggested the officer, as he folded his arms, "I'll wait right here for you to do that."
"Uh, yeah, sure, my tour group," acquiesced Sam, "One tour group...coming right up!
Sam looked tentatively out at the crowd. Forming his two hands into the shape of a human megaphone he announced, "Attention out there... please meet at the top of these stairs to resume the free tour."
The crowds of people continued wandering about, ignoring Sam's announcement. Sam gave the policeman a half hearted smile.
He better find a tour group of his own...and quick.
Cupping his hands once more, Sam announced, "Hey, people!... You want to hear about 'Sex and the Church' or not?"
In no time, scores of males of various ages scrambled up the stairs and gathered around Sam. As they waited for 'the tour' to resume, Sam gave a knowing nod to the policeman, who now proceeded on his way.
"This here is the famous St. Louis Church," began Sam's tour narrative, "founded by a group of hookers in 1888. When Jesuits priests asked these woman which ones were virgins, one of these ladies of the night shouted, "None!," thus begeting the order of nuns..."
Some of the people looked puzzled, but everyone stayed, wanting Sam to continue.
"Uh..." Sam was already stumped for anything that had to do with the sisters, so he said the only other thing he knew about nuns, "Then in 1905, a lawyer, rabbi, and a nun go into a bar..."
As he told the story, his eyes were quickly surveying the entire square. He had lost sight of Fi. Crap! By the time he completed his story, his 'tour group' had doubled in size.
A random male in Sam's group raised his hand.
"Excuse, me, Mr. Tour Guide," he asked, "Did these 'nones' stay at this one church or practiced at other churches as well?"
"What?" Sam was distracted, looking over their heads. Where was Fi?
The same random guy shouted his question again.
"Uh," said Sam absentmindedly, "...They, were a restless bunch, these 'nones' ...they tended to roam...so eventually they became known as 'Roman Catholics'."
His tour group had begun accepting his facts and nodded agreeably.
Suddenly Sam spotted Fi. And she was in trouble.
Fi was being pushed back and forth among the crowd. The last thing he saw was that Fi had accidentally stepped on the foot of a woman who instantly recoiled, thereby bumping into the man in back of her.
It produced a domino effect, with Fi getting absorbed more into the crowd. Sam had to get down and help Fi. He needed to get rid of his tour group first.
"Now, everyone," said Sam, extending his arm to the doors of the church and quickly repeating what the original tour guide had said, "Now if you step inside the church, you may even catch sight of some practicing nuns."
Groups of men enthusiastically rushed inside the church while Sam limped down the stairs. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he worriedly looked to his right and couldn't see Fi above the hordes of people.
Meanwhile, Fi had turned and was pushing the crowd back on her own. At last, she was able to gain her footing when the shoving had subsided.
As she turned back around, she found herself staring directly into the dead black eyes of Gideon Hunter.
The world suddenly seemed to have stopped spinning as she also read recognition in his eyes.
Fi started to force her way through the crowd towards him, her eyes never leaving his face. When she was almost upon him, he smiled a malicious smile before quickly taking four steps backwards.
He blended quickly into the mass of people.
No, noooo! Fi pushed the people aside harder, as her anger became inflamed at missing her opportunity. All around her were just hordes of people. But he must be somewhere nearby! She looked left and then right.
She felt a slight tap on her back, and Fi delivered a strong elbow to the assailant.
"Oomph! Fi!" said Sam, as he halfway jackknifed, "it's me! Relax!"
"I saw him, Sam!…"Fi continued pushing aside the bodies, leaving Sam behind again.
"Where is he, dammit?" Fi huffed under her breath as she looked around the square. A new tour group had poured into the square, and the noise became even more heightened with the new arrivals.
Fi headed towards the new group when suddenly, from her peripheral vision, she saw something metallic sticking out. She barely had time to move aside as she heard a quick whoosh sound, past her ear.
No one noticed, due to all the noise and busyness of the crowd, but she'd recognized the sound of a fired silencer anywhere. A short distance away, splinters of concrete flew up.
He dared to fire at me! Fi thought, furiously, Where is this coward?
Sam was suddenly beside her again, "Did you see him again?"
"No!" responded Fi, annoyingly "but I felt his calling card,"
Sam scowled in bafflement, "Huh?".
"He shot at me, Sam!"
"Do we need to rub some honey?" asked Sam, as he checked his pockets.
"No!" said a frustrated Fi, "but being in prison must have weakened his skills. He missed me, but barely."
"Hmmph!" Sam said, "That does not sound like him."
Fi looked around, "…Wait until I get my hands on him...he won't ever be able to shoot again because he will be missing his trigger finger!"
"Fi, relax... you've got what you came for," Sam tried to cheer her up, "we now know he was the driver in the black car. And he knows us, so I'm sure he'll be gunning for us -for you- again...you'll get your chance."
Fi's eyes were flashing, "It better be sooner than later!"
"Come on!" said Sam, "let's head back to the compound and get something to eat."
"No!" Fi insisted, "I think it's best we head out towards his mother's estate. Now that we know he is definitely involved, perhaps we'll find him at his mother's villa."
"Can we stop at one of the food vendors at least?" Sam asked, "I'm kinda hungry."
"Never mind that, Sam!" Fi snapped, "getting our hands on Hunter and the book will help ease any hunger pains you may be having!"
"Ah geez!" Sam huffed as he limped quickly to follow Fi. He may have to lick the honey from his leg to curb his appetite. He should have known better. Once Fi had something in her mind, nothing could stop her.
Not even a bullet.
.
.
Back at CIA offices, it was still early afternoon. Thanks to Agent Pearce, the coup in Africa had been achieved without inordinate bloodshed, the autocratic President having restored order once again.
This left Agent Pearce to deal with the Chief of Police in New York City regarding Gideon Hunter, aka The Butcher.
"I am telling you, Mr. Maxwell," remarked Pearce, over the phone, "I have two agents and a civilian whose lives are in danger. Due to your screw ups, Gideon Hunter has been released and let loose somewhere in Tampa."
"Then you send your people out to get them!" Maxwell gruffed, "I've got enough to deal with IA and the DA's office all over this."
"If I send my force in, my three people could be killed and The Butcher could get spooked and vanish again. Besides, I don't have the manpower to spare."
Just then Pearce's assistant, Thomas Wright walked in, a file in his hand. Pearce gestured that she was on the phone and to give her a moment. He sat and could only hear Pearce's side of the conversation.
"Listen, it's your prison he was released from and you're responsible for this monumental error…" Pearce pointed out, "you've put my good agents in a precarious position…"
Pearce paused as Maxwell spoke, then she continued, "Wait! ...No, don't do that...yes, I understand, but give me 24 hours to allow time for my agents to clarify the situation before you do something so drastic...listen here, these agents hold valuable information that can save the lives of many CIA agents out in the field and they must not be harmed... Yes, 24 hours…good-bye..."
Pearce hung up and tiredly rubbed her face before she looked at her assistant, "He's agreed to hold off for a day. Reluctantly."
"Line two," was all the Wright said.
"Now what?" asked Pearce as she picked up the receiver, "Pearce, here."
"Dani, it's Harry Grant." Pearce indicated for Wright to reach over and turn on the conference button.
"You've got some news for me about Agent Glenanne, Harry?" asked Pearce.
"Yeah I do!" he sounded more aggrieved than yesterday, "And the news is she is out to destroy the world!"
Pearce sighed, "Harry, I don't want to hear anything except for Miss Glenanne's location."
"She's in hell and she's taking everyone with her..."
"Harry, listen...I don't want you to criticize my agents unless she's done something to physically harm you..."
"Bingo, the psychic is a winner!" Harry announced.
Pearce lifted an eyebrow, "What?"
"Yeah, I think Agent Nut was in Karate Kid 4...you know the one starring the girl? Well, that girl is all grown up now!"
"Harry, what the hell are you talking about?"
"Karate chop, Dani! I'm talking one karate chop from her and I was out!"
Pearce brightened, "So you've found her? She's alive?"
"Yeah, she's alive," Harry whined, "And I saw all two seconds of her before I went down! What kind of screwy agent is this anyway?"
"An accomplished one," responded Pearce, "When did all this happen?"
"Last night, I was checking the residence of Hunter's mother, when I spotted two people casing the joint. I saw the Hawaiian shirt man, he must be the hostage, poor man. Anyhow, Agent Nut was walking the grounds, so I followed her. I'm filing insurance for my neck!"
When Pearce looked over at her assistant, Tom had an expression of awe once again.
"That is certainly good news that Agent Glenanne is alive and operative" Pearce thought, hoping that Fi had in her possession The Great Gatsby book, "It s urgent that you find her again because we have to let her know that The Butcher is after her."
"There is no way in hell..." Harry began.
Pearce shuffled some paperwork around, "Oh, well you look at this, Harry? I've just found your request for a pay raise! All it needs is my signature!"
There was a long breath from the other side and then a reluctant response, "Where can I find her?"
As if on cue, Thomas Wright handed the file over to Pearce.
"There are two possibilities as to where she might be," Agent Pearce said, as she regarded the file, "If Agent Glenanne is with her friend Sam Axe, he may have contacted one of two people in that area. One, on the outskirts of Tampa, is an old girlfriend, and two, the other one is a warehouse the CIA occasionally uses as a safehouse."
She gave both directions to Harry.
"What do you want me to do once I find her?" he asked.
"Tell her what you know about The Butcher, and that I need to know if she has the book," Pearce began as thoughts of Michael then entered her mind, "and tell her to contact me immediately. It's vital."
Harry recited the message back to her and then added, "If I find her, she won't clobber me again if she finds me, will she?"
Pearce spoke quickly before Harry changed his mind, "As you know, Harry, there are no guarantees in life…just think about that hefty pay raise you'll be getting…got to go...the Secretary of State is on the other line...bye, Harry."
With the connection severed, Pearce leaned back in her chair with a huge sigh. At least Fi and Sam were alive. She shoved aside that fact in order to think of other questioning situations. She had 24 hours to find Fi and Sam. And Michael, she added. She's had no contact from him whatsoever.
Where could he be?
.
.
Please review