The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series Read online

  “Well, young man, any subway will take you. You just have to get off on the right spot,” she said. “However, you ain’t gonna find the Barton Building on 53rd. It’s on 57th.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I oughta be; I’ve been cleaning offices there for eight years. I’m going there now; you can follow me if you like. Who you goin’ to see?”

  “Peter Callaway.”

  “Oh, Mr. Callaway, he’s on the ninth floor, nice-looking family he has.”

  “Oh, you know him?”

  “No, no, no, I clean his office. You just stay right by me. We should get there ‘bout ten minutes or so.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Jonathan smiled.

  “Mabel, my name’s Mabel. Best make sure you stand by me and get by the door when I do. Most of these folks gettin’ on aren’t gettin’ off in the city, so they may block you in.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  Mabel again extended her bag of candy. “Sure you don’t want some?” When he declined with a shake of his head, Mabel settled in, sliding down some as she picked one piece of candy out of the bag, crunching and enjoying it while she rode to her next destination.

  May 29th – 4:05 p.m.

  Ashtonville, Connecticut

  A single beep and Ellen disconnected the call she had just finished on her phone. She smiled, dropping the phone in between the front two seats. She looked next to her at her ten-year-old son Josh, who just gave her one of those ‘Mom, you’re so weird’ looks. He was a smaller boy who looked like his mom only with curly darker blonde hair that was just about ready for his summer crew cut. “Good, huh?” Ellen nodded. “That ought to do it.”

  Ring.

  Ellen giggled. “Maybe not.” She picked up the phone. “Watch.” She let it ring again while she peered in her rearview mirror at Taylor, her five-year-old daughter who was the spitting image of Ellen. “Ready.” She beeped the phone on and deepened her voice. “The ... cellular phone customer you are trying to reach has traveled outside of the calling area. Please try your call again later.” With another beep, she hung up the phone, laughing.

  “Mom.” Josh shook his head and looked to the phone when it rang again. “Who are you doing that to?”

  “Um ... no one. Don’t worry about it. Watch.” She lifted the phone again. “El-lo? El-lo?” She added a high accent to her voice. “Who is it you are trying to call, please.”

  “Ellen!” Peter, Ellen’s husband, blasted. “You know goddamn well who I’m trying to call.”

  “El-lo? I no understand you. Thank you.” She hung up.

  “Mom, why don’t you just shut off the phone?”

  “Josh, no way. It’s much more fun. Here.” She handed him the phone. “Call Johnny, tell him we’ll be right there.”

  “Mom, we’re at their ...”

  “Oh!” Ellen shifted in her seat with excitement. “New gravel. Taylor, make sure you’re buckled up. We’re gonna piss Pap-pap Joe off when he comes up in two weeks. Josh, call Johnny.” Not fast, but at a higher speed than she should be going, Ellen pulled into the gravel driveway of Kelly Slagel’s home. She hit the brakes causing a skid on the nicely-laid stones; dust flew up and Ellen laughed.

  Taylor giggled from the back seat. “Mommy, you’re funny.”

  “Pap is gonna yell.” Josh dialed the phone. “It’s ringing.”

  “There’s Kelly.” Ellen opened her door waving. “Hey.”

  Josh listened to the rings. “Johnny, we’re outside. Come on out.”

  Kelly Slagel’s arms were folded tightly to her thin body as she walked down the path of her home to the driveway. “Why do you do that every time Joe orders us new gravel?”

  “Because I know that means he’s coming.”

  “Two weeks,” Kelly said.

  “Where’s your son? I want to get them fed before the game.”

  “Thanks for taking him.”

  “No problem.” Ellen looked up to see Johnny Slagel in his baseball uniform running toward the jeep.

  Johnny stopped dead center in front of the vehicle. He looked down at the driveway. “Whoa. Pap is gonna get mad. They just brought this today.”

  Ellen rolled her eyes. “Pap doesn’t scare me. Get in the car.” She pointed back and moved to her driver’s door. “See ya at the game, Kel.”

  “Ellen, wait.” Kelly moved to the door.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Frank ... Frank isn’t coming home again this weekend.”

  Quickly and at her best, Ellen drummed up a look of surprise. “Oh, no. You’re kidding. Maybe next weekend.” She leaned to get in the car again.

  “I could care less if I see him. But the kids, El. They want to. I was wondering if you talked to him lately.”

  “Frank? Oh, God no. I have talked to Frank in ages. I talk to Joe every day. That’s who you should talk to.”

  “I was hoping you would.”

  “Why me?” Ellen asked.

  “El, come on. He’s been like a father to you forever. You can talk to him. He doesn’t respond to me. He’ll give me the speech about what do I want him to do, drag Frank home by his ear.”

  Ellen snickered and covered her mouth. “Sorry. I’ve seen Joe do that to him.” Ellen paused to get serious. “But really, Kel ... I’ve known Frank for many years, when he doesn’t want to do something, he doesn’t. No matter how much of a dick move it is.”

  “Can you talk to Joe? The kids need to see him, El.”

  “I know,” Ellen said solemnly. “I’ll talk to Joe.” She slid in the driver’s seat and hesitated before closing the door. “And, Kel, I have a feeling, just a gut feeling Frank will be home next weekend.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right.” Kelly shut the door for Ellen and backed up. Folding her arms again close to her body she turned and slowly walked back toward her house.

  Ellen held her hand on the gear shift for the longest time watching Kelly go into her house. Just watching. As Kelly disappeared into the small home, Ellen closed her eyes.

  “Mom,” Josh called her. “You all right?”

  “Um ... yes.” Ellen snapped back. “Yes.” She threw the Jeep in gear. “Let’s get a pizza.” Slower than she pulled in, Ellen backed out of the driveway, reaching for the phone and turning it off. She had lost her mood for games.

  May 29th - 4:20 p.m.

  New York City, New York

  Barat Ashrad slowly zipped his jacket halfway as he closed the door to his apartment. He failed to make eye contact with the old woman he passed in the hall. He just lowered his head and moved to the elevator. He kept shifting his eyes as if someone were watching him, bouncing nervously, waiting for the elevator to arrive. And it did. Ashrad let out a breath, stepped inside and prayed no one else got in.

  Screeching tires and stopping brakes filled the street outside Ashrad’s apartment building as six agency cars pulled up, some even on the walk. People backed up but they didn’t go too far out of their curiosity in what was going on.

  Joe jumped from one of the cars wearing a black bulletproof vest. “I want this building surrounded!” He shouted to the other agents who ran about. “Seal off all exits and stairwells, front and back. I don’t want ...”

  Boom!

  Joe’s words were silenced when the first explosion rang out. Loud and deafening, it rocked the ground they stood on. The top floor of the apartment building bellowed out flames and black smoke. No sooner did Joe look up to what was going on than nearly simultaneous explosions of each sequential floor occurred. One at a time, a split second apart, all the way down from the top to the bottom. Glass and debris shattered out and people ran amuck to try to find cover.

  Lifting up from shielding his head, Joe began to run, focused, toward the mayhem. “It’s a diversion!” he cried out, motioning his revolver as he moved. “Keep your eyes peeled. He’s out here.”

  Brian, arms moving people as if he were swimming, lifted his tall lanky body onto tiptoes, scanning the abundance of people. T
hen he spotted Ashrad down the sidewalk and moving away. “There!” Brian pointed his long arm, wedging his way through the people. “I’ll chase him by foot, Joe.” Brian said, peering over his own shoulder as he ran, then he spun and began to chase full speed.

  Ashrad must have sensed him because, as he casually walked, he slowly looked back to see Brian pursuing him. Zipping up his coat all the way, Ashrad took off running.

  Seeing this, Joe moved to his car, signaled for back-up, jumped in his vehicle, peeled in reverse and decided the best thing he could do was try to get ahead of them by car.

  ^^^^

  “Well.” Mabel crumbled the brown candy wrapper in her hand. “Our stop’s acomin’, Johnny Boy. I think we best go stand by that door so we don’t get stuck in here.” Slowly she stood up, looking to the two gentlemen who had sat on both sides of her. “You boys have a nice day.”

  “You too, ma’am.” The one looked up.

  Mabel smiled, gripping her large purse, and along with Jonathan, she made her way through the crowded subway car to the door. They had to get off in the city and didn’t want to take a chance, with all those getting on, that they would get stuck and have to ride to the next stop.

  ^^^^

  Ashrad headed towards the main street, darting his way around the crowded streets. Brian, who was much larger, had a hard time as he chased Ashrad for four blocks and lost him to the crowd. Angry at his own inability to catch him, he was relieved when he spotted Joe pulling up on the sidewalk.

  Jumping from the car, gun in hand, Joe pointed to the steps in front of him. “Brian, he ran down the subway.”

  Against the flow of people coming up the stairs, Joe and Brian ran down the steps. When they reached the bottom they stopped cold. Rush hour. Herds of people jammed the station, waiting, pushing their way through turnstiles.

  “You see him?” Joe asked.

  Brian stood on tiptoes. “Yeah, there he is.”

  Ashrad stood near the edge of the tracks as the number 418 rounded the bend.

  “Shit.” Joe took off. “We have to stop him before he gets on that train.”

  “Wish me luck.” With a slight twitch of his head, Brian charged forward, veered to the left and leaped the turnstile. He knew he only had a moment as the subway slowed to a complete stop; he was so close to him but was separated by many people. In a desperate move, he drove himself into the crowd and hurtled through the air, aiming his body face forward at Ashrad. Chest first, Brian landed on Ashrad like a wrestler coming off the top rope. Taking him by surprise and from behind, Ashrad fell to the ground just as the subway train screeched to a halt and the doors flew open. Amongst the noise and commotion, no one except Ashrad noticed the small glass container that flew from his zipped up jacket and broke between the platform and train. Nor through the chaos did they notice the small amount of smoke that emerged from the broken container as it lay on the gravel near the tracks.

  “Oh, my!” Mabel exclaimed as she stepped from the subway, Ashrad and Brian right at her feet.

  “Back on the train, ma’am! “ Brian yelled up to her.

  “No sir, we’re already late.” With the attitude she always had, not a care in the world, Mabel stepped over them tugging Jonathan and pushed their way through the growing crowd of onlookers.

  “Wow,” Jonathan said. “You’re tough.”

  “Been doin’ this a long time, Johnny. Now let’s move so you won’t be too late.”

  Joe caught his breath as he stood above Brian who was still on top of Ashrad. “Way to go, Hercules.”

  “Joe, get these people back.” Brian felt Ashrad, “I think I knocked him out cold.” He placed his revolver back in his shoulder harness and turned Ashrad’s body over. “Yeah.” He looked at Joe. “He’s out cold.”

  “Brian, watch out!” Joe saw Ashrad’s eyes open.

  Ashrad quickly grabbed Brian’s gun and scurried to his feet. His whole body trembled and it showed in the gun as he pointed it aimlessly at Brian then at the people surrounding him. He began to back up amid the screams, until he backed in to a wall. With his shaky right hand pointing the gun, he felt his own chest with his left. Ashrad’s face turned pale, his eyes widened and he let out a shriek of horror. Shouting out words in a language no one understood, Ashrad looked at Joe, then at Brian, then at the gun. He placed it to his temple, pulled back the hammer and fired.

  May 29th - 5:05 p.m.

  The Barton Building, New York

  For the first time in years, Mabel’s cleaning cart didn’t squeak as she pushed it down the corridor of the Barton Building. It didn’t squeak because Mabel didn’t push it fast. Slowly she moved, her head pounding with every step she took. She had to pause mid-hall to catch her balance, feeling herself grow a little dizzy. Leaning on the cart, Mabel pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed the small beads of sweat that formed on her forehead. She was going to steal a moment’s rest before she started to clean the offices.

  ^^^^

  Peter wrestled with some papers as he sat across from a blankly-staring Jonathan in his office. “Now, Jon, that’s basically what... Jon?”

  “Huh?” Jonathan snapped back into reality.

  “Now come on, I was fair about understanding why you were so late, the least you can do is pay attention.” Peter continued, rattling at a fast pace. “As I was saying … Mr. Wilson said he would handle things on your end. But your Mr. Wilson stutters. Not a good impression. They barely understand us as it is. I know it’s mean, but it’s the truth.” Peter finally stopped rambling and looked at Jonathan. “Are you ok?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Jonathan rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “I just got the worst headache; I mean it just hit me.”

  “You don’t look so good.” Peter put down the papers.

  “I really don’t feel so good; it hit me all at once.”

  “Maybe you got some kind of bug or …” He stopped when his phone rang. He pressed the speaker phone button. “Peter Callaway speaking.”

  Ellen’s mighty, throaty voice blasted so loud it could have cracked the speaker. “What the hell are you still doing there?! Josh’s game starts in two hours!”

  Wide-eyed, Peter quickly grabbed the receiver. “Was that necessary?” He cringed. “El, El. Ellen!” He screamed and turned his back to Jonathan. “Listen ... will you listen to me, goddamn it! Yes! I’ll make it home. No, I’ll make it home!” With a slam, Peter swung down the phone and crashed it into the receiver. “I hate my wife.”

  “No, you don’t.” Jonathan said with a sickly chuckle. “How late are you for the game?”

  Peter looked at his watch. “I can still make it.” He exhaled, and looked at Jonathan who slumped in the chair. “I’ll tell you what.” Peter handed him the stack of papers. “I want to make that game, you’re sick, so … Put these in your briefcase, I’ll call you on Monday, and we’ll talk on the phone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” Peter grabbed own briefcase and jacket from his coat tree. He moved in a rush.

  Jonathan placed the papers in his briefcase, shut it, and looked at his watch. “I can still make that flight and be home in bed by eight.”

  “Well, let me give you a little advice, take a taxi.”

  “I will.” Jonathan tried to smile as he stood up. “Thanks, Peter, I appreciate it.” He extended his hand.

  “You’re welcome.” Peter shook his hand and opened the office door. “Shall we?”

  As they exited the office, Jonathan paused as Peter pulled his office door closed. “You know what, I’m gonna hit the men’s room. You go on.”

  “Then in that case, I’m hustling.” Peter spun as he moved down the corridor, calling out as he walked quickly backwards. “Get well.” Turning blindly around in what he thought would be a mad dash for the elevator, Peter barreled into Mabel who stood at her cart. He caught his balance as his feet entangled with hers and he fell into her sending Mabel forward into her cart. “I’m sorry.” He stood straight up.

&
nbsp; Mabel shook her head with a ‘quite all right’ look.

  “You ok?” Peter laid his hands on her shoulders helping her up. When he received a dazed nod, he removed his hands, backed up, turned again and sped down the hall. A split second after he pressed the down button, the elevator doors opened and he stepped in. Reaching to choose his floor, Peter felt the moisture on his hand. He raised his head to Mabel then looked back down to his palm that held the residue of her perspiration. Cringing in disgust, Peter wiped his hand on his pant leg, picked his floor and the elevator door closed.

  ^^^^

  Two men with ‘Coroner’ written on the back of their jackets carried a body bag as they passed Joe in the subway station sealed off with yellow police tape. No more subway patrons, only officials buzzed about, taking photographs and cleaning up. Joe made his way to Brian who squatted down near the track’s edge. Brian stared at the chalk outline and blood stain where Ashrad’s body once lay.

  “Hey,” Joe called to him. “You know we not only have to finish up here but back at that apartment building as well. I’d like to catch that nine o’clock flight.”

  Brian’s head swayed, still engrossed as he stared at the ground. “Where did I go wrong, Joe? Where? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “None of it does. Something smells foul and it isn’t just that dead rat behind you, either.”

  With a peep of a shriek, Brian sprang to his feet, spun and kicked the hard rat carcass away. It flew out over the edge and down to the tracks. Just as Brian tried to look at Joe, he swayed to his right.

  “Whoa.” Joe caught him. “You all right?”

  “Yeah.” Brian shook his head. “Got up too fast.”