Page 54 of More Than A Boss

“Mama, where is Daddy?” Daniel asked tears, still running down his cheeks. “I’m scared, Mama.”

“It’s going to be alright, kids,” the police officer said. “Your mommy was just a little scared, but she is strong and brave, just like you are, and it’s going to be alright. You have to help each other. Deal?” he asked gently. “I’m going to make sure that you are all safe and ready for Santa. Have you written a letter to Santa yet?”

“Santa” was the magic word. Their expressions immediately lit up, and they began to tell him what they had asked for in their letters to the big man in the red suit. They looked up at their mother for reassurance, and Camilla had managed to gather herself for the sake of the kids and she smiled shakily at them.

“Yes, we’ve been waiting for Santa, haven’t we? My babies have been so good. Santa definitely has then on his ‘nice’ list,” Camilla said, smiling sadly.

“We have an officer stationed at the entrance on the ground floor and one outside your door. Don’t let anyone in unless they show you their identification card through the peephole, just like you did for me,” the man cautioned.

“When will we know about Will?” Camilla asked, starting to collapse in emotion again.

“I’ll contact you the minute he arrives in Toledo and we have him in our protective custody. As difficult as it will be, please try not to dwell on it, for your sake as well as your children’s. Right now, all we can do is wait,” he counseled. “My name is Officer Murphy, Rory Murphy. Here’s my card. I’ll be checking in on you ma’am. I’m so sorry this is happening to you and your family.” He held out his hand and she put her cold trembling hand in his and he squeezed.

“Thank you for not judging me,” she answered quietly.

“But for the grace of God go I,” Murphy responded. “It helps me to be able to sleep at night if I remember that.” Turning to go, he said, “Take care, Ms. Havers.”

—

They were the longest four hours of Will’s life. His captor, whom he had learned was named Jon, was a live wire ready to spark. He fidgeted and jumped in and out of his seat throughout the train ride to Toledo. Will thought he might be able to use this to his advantage if he could muster up the ability to give a damn. Jon looked practically green, and Will sensed there was something physical going on with him.

Will had almost given up when, suddenly, a picture of his children and Camilla entered his mind and he visualized them opening their presents Christmas morning. In that moment, he made the decision to give it one last shot if the opportunity presented itself.

“I’ve got to piss,” Jon said crudely. “There’s no place to hide, Will. If you’re not sitting in that exact same spot when I return, you’re a dead man.” He hissed as he nervously looked around.

With resignation, Will replied, “I know that, I’ll be here.”

“Your bro won’t let you get away, you know. You may as well just face the music like a man and save your family. Although your wife doesn’t have the same sense of loyalty to you that you seem to have for her.” Jon grinned, enjoying witnessing Will’s devastation as the last of his denial was stripped away. “She ratted you out. How do you think we found you?” he said, laughing as he rose unsteadily to go to the restroom. “You might want to think about that before you go risking your life to live happily ever after.” Laughing at his own wit, he left Will alone.

Will felt like he was frozen to his seat. A sick realization formed as the pieces clicked together in his mind. He was shattered. Questioning what he had to live for, he once again pictured the faces of his three little ones, which compelled him to take another shot at survival. He knew there were plenty of places to hide on this train, especially if he could get to the lower level undetected. The sleeper cabins and the luggage storage areas were potential places to hide. And, by his estimation, they were only about fifteen minutes from Toledo. If he could remain undetected until they arrived, he had a shot.

Jumping from his seat, he hit the aisle at a run. He dashed through the door at the end of the car. The train jostled and, holding on for balance, he stepped into the next car. He made his way to the sleeper section on the upper level. He looked into each cabin as he rushed by to see whether there were any empty ones to slip into. He decided to go forward to the next car before descending to the bottom level.

When he entered the next car, he practically dove down the first staircase he happened upon, the steep, narrow stairs leading to the bottom level of the train. Frantically searching for a perfect hiding spot, he ducked into a vacant sleeper compartment, slid the doors shut, and yanked the curtains closed. Pulling down the upper bunk, he crawled in, banging his head on the low ceiling as he tried to bury himself under the covers. He knew he had bought time because Jon would have to search each car and cabin to find him.

Upon returning a few short minutes later, Jon discovered the empty seat and was filled with fear and rage. Santiago would have his head if he screwed this up. His skin was crawling for another hit. He was beginning to feel the effects of withdrawal and cursed himself for his weakness. Things had happened so quickly at the train station, he never dreamed he would be boarding a train without the needed fix. It was coming up on eight hours since his last hit of smack. He had been chasing the dragon for three years now, and Santiago had taken good care of him, making sure he never went without in exchange for his loyalty and labor. His skin was clammy, and his shakiness and restlessness were increasing by the minute. His trip to the bathroom had been more to ease his gastrointestinal discomfort he was having than to attend to his bladder. He had been fighting nausea for the last hour.

Wild-eyed, Jon erratically staggered down the aisle of the rocking car, waving his gun at the passengers as he went, demanding to know if they had seen a man with Will’s description. Most shook their heads with expressions of terror, some screamed, some rose from their seats and ran the opposite direction. Chaos ensued.

As Jon was stepping through the door leading to the next car, a large, male passenger in full military uniform came from behind and tackled him to the ground, fighting for control of the gun. Jon was no match in his agitated state, and the hero easily contained Jon and gained possession of the firearm. “Call a conductor, and someone phone the Toledo police. Tell them we have a gun-wielding man contained and under control. Does anyone have a cord or something we can use to restrain him?” the uniformed passenger asked.

Jon was practically slobbering as he cursed and threatened the man sitting on top of him. “You’ll be sorry you took it upon yourself to play the hero! I hope you have made peace with your maker. You’re a dead man!” he blathered.

“Shut the hell up before I knock you out,” the soldier responded.

“You have no idea what you have unleashed upon yourself,” Jon continued.

“Yeah, well, as you can see, I’m shaking in my boots. I faced a lot worse in Afghanistan than a strung-out junkie like you,” he said menacingly.

A train employee arrived and informed everyone that the police had been notified and that they were on standby and waiting at the station. He thanked the passengers for remaining calm and thanked the soldier for his actions. “You are truly a hero!” he commended. The passengers who had not fled the car cheered and clapped some whistling loudly in agreement and appreciation.

The soldier, who said his name was Steve, explained, “This guy was acting strange throughout the whole trip. I noticed he kept jumping up from his seat. He seemed extremely agitated and jittery. He was with another guy who was in his early thirties, blond, tall, fair-skinned. When this joker left to go to the restroom, the other guy bolted. He went that way,” Steve said, pointing ahead.

“The police will want your statement. We are just pulling into the station now. Please hang back while the other passengers disembark. We really appreciate what you did here,” the attendant said effusively.

“He won’t be such a hero when he is taking his last breath,” Jon muttered.

—

---