Tom Brand Escapes

11-Escapes NJ

When Brand woke up he was staring at the sky. It felt like he had been out for hours but when he looked at his watch, it was just a little less than fifteen minutes. He looked up at the wall. The disk was gone. Leah was gone, too. For the third time, she had disappeared from his sight.

He felt nauseated and weak and his head felt leaden. He looked around as well as he could. There was a flatness to the tall field grass. A helicopter had recently hovered or landed.

Brand rolled over and vomited. He saw Kate up on one elbow, struggling to sit up. Petras was still prone. Brand crawled over to them. He checked Petras' pulse. It was strong but he was still completely out.

"Brand," Kate wiped her sweaty forehead with her shirtsleeve.

"I don't know how important this is but when I woke up, everyone else was still down. Everyone except The Suit."

Brand blinked, trying to better focus his eyes.

"You're sure?" he asked

"Yes, absolutely," she said, "At first I thought I was dreaming – he is awfully cute, that one - but I couldn't move my head and he was right in my line of sight. He was standing. He was on a phone, too. I thought isn't that strange because no one else's phone, almost nothing else electronic is working. Yes, I'm sure."

Brand looked across the field. Suit Man was on his back on the ground.

When Brand looked back at Kate she was looking at him, her eyes clear and strong, "He laid down where he is now. It can't be more than a couple of minutes ago."

"Did you hear or see anything else?"

"No."

Brand struggled to his feet. He kept his head low and near his knees as he stood. He took a few deep breaths and then pushed himself up. As he made his way across the grass quad his head began to clear.

Brand took the safety off the Beretta. With each step he felt more like himself, stronger. He marched over to Suit Man and picked him up off the ground by his tie. As the man began to struggle Brand put him in a headlock. He reached into Suit Mans' jacket, removed the gun he found there and tossed it away.

"What the hell?" Suit Man's voice was muffled against Brand's arm.

"What's your name?" Brand asked him through gritted teeth. He adjusted his arm and squeezed against the man's throat.

"Your name."

"Mike," he answered.

"Mike who?" Brand asked.

As Mike thrashed his head around, Brand reached inside his suit again and felt around under the fabric near the breast pocket. He ripped through it and took out a micro thin card, not much larger than a stamp. Identification inside these general issue suits were common. It was too small to be felt during a frisk but provided an efficient way to identify the article of clothing, or a torso. After all, once dead or missing, it was hardly necessary to protect an agent's identity. Brand wondered vaguely if these admin guys even knew the cards were in there. He used to laugh to himself at the guys he knew back in the day who bragged about how they didn't even have to buy their own suits. They were too dumb to wonder why.

Next to a small grainy photo was Suit Man's name: Michael Smetterelli. No wonder the guy hadn't shared his name.

Brand dropped Mike to the ground and shot him in the arm. It was not much more than a flesh wound but Smetterelli groaned and passed out. All around him the other men began to wake up slowly.

The still groggy ensign, the only witness to what he had just done other than Kate, looked up at him, "What did you do that for?"

Brand shook his head, "It's above your pay grade and better that you don't know."

"Understood," she said as she struggled to her feet, "I don't like him anyway."

"Good," he replied, "Then you'll cover him for me?"

The ensign winked at him, "You got it."

Brand took another look around, still trying to fully assess the situation. He looked at his watch, at the flattened patch of grass. Less than fifteen minutes. It seemed so unlikely that even with a helicopter anyone could have gotten there, retrieved the disks, taken Leah, and left in so little time. This group was a coordinated bunch to be sure but still, it didn't seem probable or possible. And they had to know air support would be on its way.

Perhaps the disks could be recovered remotely. Maybe they had a team of people. But still.

Three times Leah had disappeared from his sight while in his custody. Three. The time frame was bothering him. Third time's a charm, Brand thought.

Mike groaned as Brand lifted him to his feet again. Blood ran down Mike's arm and began to pool around them. Fifteen minutes would be enough time for a helicopter to fly in, toss a phone to someone and split. It would be enough time for someone to secure an incapacitated person close by.

And where were the planes? As Brand said this to himself, two fighters zoomed overhead, leaving a roar of sound in their wake. No. No one would risk sticking around knowing that air support was on its way.

Brand pulled Smetterelli's face close to his. The man's eyes were dark with pain and his face was sweaty.

"Where is she?" Brand asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. Brand pressed the gun against his cheek.

"All right," Smetterelli sighed, "Jeez, you didn't have to shoot me."

"It's nothing," Brand said, "I honestly can't believe you passed out."

"Let's just say I'm a lover and not a fighter."

"Obviously," Petras said. Brand had not even realized that he was there.

"How are you doing?"

"I've been better. I feel like I drank a quart of cheap scotch. What's going on?"

"I'm sure Leah is still here and I'm asking Mr. Mike Smetterelli her whereabouts."

"Smetterelli – isn't that the name Leah gave you?"

"Very close to it. Interesting, no?"

"Very," Petras agreed.

"Okay, fine," Smetterelli pulled his face away from the gun and pushed against Brand's hand.

"Would you mind not choking me to death in the process? And if you'd let me put some pressure on this wound to stop the bleeding I'd appreciate it. I'll take you to her."

Brand released him and Smetterelli looked him in the eye, "I guess you've figured this all out."

Brand nodded grimly. About Leah and Smetterelli he was certain, but knowing what and who didn't necessarily lead to why.