Page 84 of Alpha Bait

U-Turn

RICH

Due to the Holloway acquisition, which now dominated the news, I anticipated that Jamal would be working overtime. To find him, I would have to go into his office. To kill him, would be as simple as putting a bullet between his eyes.

Of course, there were small details that made accomplishing this more complex, but I had my determination.

I did not relish the idea of killing Jamal. We had grown up together. We had been more than friends at one point. We had been brothers and despite everything that happened I still held dear to some of those fond memories from our childhood.

I had to accept that those memories were no longer. Jamal was no longer the wide-eyed dark-skinned boy that I had grown up with. He'd transformed into a ruthless killer.

His desire for success transmuted into a poisonous desire for power. He had orchestrated his own sister's death. This couldn't be the boy I'd befriended, or the man considered a genius by every professor that ever knew him.

I had no trouble finding a weapon and all Carmichaels can handle themselves around the gun. Trap and skeet shooting has been a family hobby since the 17th century.

Taking the shot would be a simple matter of obtaining one of these guns. I needed no one's permission. I obtained a handgun loaded with six bullets and chose to walk to the Holloway offices. Perhaps I was giving myself time to change my mind, but the 30 block walk to Jamal's office had no such effect.

Instead of changing my mind I became fixed with a steely determination to finish the task. Revenge wasn't the only reason why. A sense of justice propelled me forward. Thanks to Jamal, I had lost not one but two people. New York wasn't the same without Indie. I couldn't forgive him for stealing her away from me.

I remembered our days at the Plaza, at the Ritz, and at various other hotels around New York. Every street bled with her memory. Every moment I wasn't with her grated on my heart with intense pain, unlike anything I had ever known. My memories in the city with my brother were no different, albeit less romantic in content.

As I walked along the city sidewalks for all those blocks, it was difficult to find places where I did not have fond memories of Ames. There were restaurants where we had hungover brunches together, bars where we had partied until the sun came up, streets where we had puked after long nights of too much whiskey, and clubs where we had engaged in vigorous games of tennis and squash together.

Jamal took everything from me and he'd left me a man with nothing yet to lose. There's nothing more dangerous than a man in that condition. A man in that condition will do anything, even if it is foolish. Even if it will end in him spending his entire life in jail.

I couldn't recall when I'd last approached the Holloway office building, especially not on foot. The tall skyscraper appeared impressive, hovering over the city like Mount Olympus. The gods of the New York biotechnology industries battled above ground, making global decisions with swift signatures and hushed agreements sealed over drinks.

I almost felt as if Jamal was looking down at me from his top floor office, expecting my arrival, ready to defend himself from what would be my final attack.

On that day, I must have lucked out because there was no security in the front of the building. I hadn't expected that. Perhaps, by a stroke of dumb luck, my arrival in New York had been kept a secret.

I had the access code to the elevator, something that I had gleaned from Indie without her knowledge. It was as if every moment in my life prior to that point had been preparing me for what I was about to face with no resistance. I entered the elevator and attempted to calm my nerves as I began the long ride to the top floor in a whooshing metal cage.

I did not feel the least bit claustrophobic, but I would be lying to say that I did not feel nervous. I could defeat men in the boardroom and on the tennis courts, but I took to no delight in having to kill. I especially took no delight in having to kill Indie's brother. I had to, but I couldn't relish the task. To take pleasure in killing would have made me no better than him.

The elevator swung to an abrupt stop, bringing me to my final chance to turn around, change my mind and decide to do something besides walk into Jamaal's office and shoot him. My breath burned with agitation.

My hands were clammy and covered in sweat. I stuck them inside my jacket pocket, grasping for the metal handle of the gun. My slippery hands struggled to maintain their grip. I tightened my hands until my knuckles turned white.

I wiped my hands on my coat before grasping the gun's handle again. Jamal's office stood at the end of a long hallway lit by a glowing orange light. I walked towards the door with an intensity of purpose.

I would not leave this building with Jamal Holloway alive.

I approached his office door which stood open just a few centimeters wide. I reached for the gun with one hand and pushed the door open with another, prepared to face my nemesis for the first time in months. This time, Jamal had no upper hand, no element of surprise, and I would defeat him

However, when I opened the office door, I was not met with Jamal's face but his mother's. She sat at his desk and she barely looked up when I walked in almost as if she had been expecting me. Either that or she experienced such little fear that my presence that she did not react.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Carmichael what brings you here today."

"Gail..." I had intended to achieve the element of surprise, but I was the one who had been shocked.

"You won't find Jamal here," she said flatly.

Ah, she knew I was coming for him.

"Where is he?"

I was so determined to find Jamal that I did not care to find out what Gail was doing at his desk.

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