One For The Road

Chicago

“My name is David. David Montrose.” He tried to say confidently.

Maybe just go with David.

He sighed. Then left the bathroom, grabbed his only bag, and drove to O’Hare. The car wasn’t his, but the FBI would take care of it. He parked at the airport, and made his way over to the Hilton across the street. He sat in the lobby, incredibly nervous. He was told to sit on the east corner sofas, as far away from the windows and open doors as possible.

The extraction was scheduled for noon. He tried not to fidget as he leaned into the polyester chair, his right leg trembling. He clutched his bag as if it were a life preserver. Suddenly, he sensed someone behind him. He turned around — seated behind him was a woman.

“Keep looking straight ahead,” she whispered. His brief glance back had only revealed someone with blonde hair and sunglasses.

“There’s been a change of plans. You’ve been compromised.” She kept her tone neutral. He felt like his heart was going to explode.

“Take my sunglasses and put them on, and come with me.” She handed them to him and quickly shed her coat. She turned it inside out and it suddenly became an FBI windbreaker.

She grabbed his arm and together they quickly exited the hotel. She kept a firm hold on his bicep, her grip surprisingly strong. She led him behind the building and into a run-down parking garage. It wasn’t until they reached her car, a beat-up Chevy, that he finally had the courage to look at her.

She was tall, and much younger than he expected, maybe 25. Bright hazel eyes met his own as he appraised her, but he couldn’t help it. Her blonde hair fell around her shoulders, framing high cheekbones, and a rosebud mouth. And even in a t-shirt and jeans, she looked like she could walk the runway.

“Get in,” she instructed as she peeled off her jacket and tossed it into a trash bin, She smiled sweetly and opened the front passenger side door of her car. And just as he sat down, he felt the familiar touch of cold metal clicking into place.

She had handcuffed him to the door.

“What the hell is going on here?” he yelled, trying to yank his hand free from the inner door handle. But it didn’t budge. He glowered at her. “You’re not FBI are you?”

She grinned at him in response, and just as he attempted to kick the open door towards her, she kicked it right back, giving him less than a second to pull his legs in. She opened the trunk, put his bag in and after a moment she got in the driver’s seat. In her hands was a trucker hat.

“Put this on.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on. Who are you?” he demanded. She jammed the hat on his head in response as she turned the car on and quickly swerved.

“I’m hurt, Jack. Am I not what you expected?” Her voice was heavy with derision.

“Where are you taking me?” She knew his real name… and she was as relaxed as could be. She sat back into the seat with one hand on the wheel and the other in her pocket.

“I’m your guardian angel, your keeper, and your jailer. So shut up and keep your hands to yourself,” she replied, refusing to even give him a glance. They quickly headed west. He wanted to grab the steering wheel, but she had cuffed his left hand across his body, forcing him to sit awkwardly. He tried to open the door; it was locked.

When traffic slowed on the I-80 W, she finally turned to look at him.

“Here’s the deal. You’re sitting on a pressure pad lined with 10,000 volts of pure electricity. And this —“ she pulled her hand out of her pocket to reveal a small remote “— is what activates it. You try to escape, grab me, or even think about trying to get out of this car, and old sparky underneath is gonna light up.” She put the remote back in her pocket, smirking, and continued. “And if I were you, I’d think about preserving my virility. I doubt you want to be electrically castrated.” She said this so matter-of-factly that he gaped at her.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Does the name Lorenzo Mastriani ring a bell to you?” Jack felt his insides clench painfully. Lorenzo Mastriani was a mafia boss in Las Vegas, a man he had borrowed money from for his research. He never even considered the possibility that Lorenzo would come after him now. She glanced over at him, taking in his pale face.

“Yeah, I thought so. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Casey Mastriani.” She gave him a dazzling smile before she said, “His grandaughter.”

And that’s when Jack started to laugh, completely in hysterics.

“So Lorenzo sent his granddaughter to pick me up and deliver me to him? This is a joke, right?”

“Well, if you like jokes with a punchline that ends with you stranded in the desert, sure.” She glared at him.

“You know the actual FBI is looking for me, right? You’re just a kid.” He yanked on the door handle again.

“You know I just fooled the actual FBI just now, right?” she said, matching his tone. “Who do you think told you to meet at the Hilton at noon? And I’m 30, thank you very much.” She smiled as she changed lanes.

He groaned loudly. “You have an FBI informant.”

“You are a smart one. Open the glove compartment.” Jack strained to get his right arm to reach it. He opened it and found a little black book inside. “Open it, she demanded. Jack flipped through the book. It was a ledger with accounts, names, and various sums of money. He found his name on page three, followed by his debt.

“$100,000, Jack. That’s quite a bit of money to borrow,” she scolded.

“Now, wait a minute. I can pay him back if you just listen to me,” he pleaded.

“It’s a 24-hour drive to Vegas, Jack. I’m listening.”

10 hours later

Casey guided the car off the highway and drove until she found the grungiest bar and grill in the middle of nowhere. She parked the car and sighed loudly. Jack eyed her carefully.

She stared right back as she said, “I could use a drink after all that talk. How about you?”

He stared at her as if she had suddenly sprouted four heads. She laughed and reached behind her into the backseat. She pulled out a set of wristbands and ankle bands with electrodes and wires attached. She handed them to him. “Put these on.”

He slowly attached the bands to his arms and ankles, though it required a lot of contorting. She then got out of the car and opened his door.

“Now if I uncuff you from this door and you try to run, the same rules apply. Those bands you put on are electrified. You even think about making a run for it, and you’ll be a quivering drooling mess on the ground in two seconds flat. Got it?” Her eyes twinkled.

“Fine,” he spat out.

She grinned. “Alright then, let’s get ourselves a drink.”

In the two years since Casey started working for her grandfather, she had seen some messed up stuff. But this situation? She shook her head as she ordered two shots of bourbon from the bartender, a greasy old man who had seen better days. So had his bar, with its mismatched chairs and sticky floor.

She handed Jack one of the shots. She raised hers up in a mock toast and said, “Here’s one for the road.” They both shot them back at the same time, with Jack coughing loudly afterward.

Suddenly, two men walked into the bar. By their build, Casey knew immediately someone had found them. She turned to Jack and said, “If you don’t want to die tonight, sit here and don’t move.” Jack nodded. He would rather be with the girl than at the hands of those two men. She then stood up and swayed drunkenly.

The two men eyed her warily.

She patted them both on the back and slurred, “Barkeep! A bottle of whiskey for these hunks.” The bartender eyed them suspiciously, but put the bottle on the counter. She raised the bourbon high, and poured out several shots on the table. She smiled at them and said, “to your health.”

And that’s when all hell broke loose.

As they took their shots, Casey smashed the bottle against one of their heads, followed by a swift jab in the eyes to the other. The first man dropped like a stone as bourbon exploded all over the bar. The second clutched his eyes, screaming, and Casey saw his car keys fling out of his jacket pocket.

“Let’s go DAVID!” she yelled, and the two of them ran out. But instead of getting into her car, she clicked “unlock” on the goons’ car, a black sedan. As they sped towards the highway, she laughed with gusto. He stared at her in awe.

She met his gaze and smiled. “Don’t worry, Jack. I’m getting off the road in a few exits.” Fifteen miles later, she exited. She turned the car off and began searching it. In the trunk she found $20,000 cash in an envelope. She whistled. Jack got out of the car to see what she was doing. She put the envelope in her back pocket and grabbed the key to unlock the bands on Jack’s wrists. He stared at her in utter confusion.

“Those guys were not FBI; they were professional hitmen. So who else did you piss off?” she demanded.

“Every energy and oil company you can think of. I told you my research —” She waved him off and started considering their options.

“Alright, Jack. Here’s the deal. I’m going to take this $20,000 —” she pulled out the envelope “— which is probably half the payment those guys back at the bar accepted, and put it towards a partial payment to my grandfather. You go your way, I go mine. You have someplace you can finish your research?” she asked.

“Y-yes overseas in —” She shook her head.

“Don’t tell me. But when you’re up and running, I want 10 percent. Deal?” She offered her hand, and he shook it. For the first time, Jack gave her a genuine smile.

“How do I get in touch with you?” he asked. She smiled back at him and handed him the cell phone from her pocket.

“That’s a burner phone “ she quickly gave him one of her numbers - “and you’ll get me.”

She tossed him the keys to the car and as she started to walk away into the darkness, Jack called after her.

“You know you just saved the world, right?”

Without turning around she yelled back, “Call me when it’s done. Or I’ll come find you.” He grinned. He got in the car, and quickly drove into the night.

One Year Later

Casey turned on the TV and checked CNN. She had to be sure.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is breaking news. Jack Donahue, the founder of Icarus Machines Inc., has announced the placement of four dozen climate change-fighting weather machines, with half going to the North Pole and the other to the South Pole. This is the first successful attempt at beginning to reverse the effects of climate change. With the company’s current valuation at $400 billion dollars it is only expected to go up as every country in the world bids on this extraordinary —“

Casey turned off the TV and smiled.