When I Return || Perrentes

Chapter 15: Out of the Frying Pan

"We're going to take a break after this one," Mike said as they hurtled down a backroad littered with trees. Tony rolled his window back up, looked over at Mike, frowning.

"How do you mean?"

"This is a big job and we're low on supplies," he shrugged. "We need to stock up on cuffs and such, not to mention food, we're in serious need of a few laundry runs, and we're low on ammunition...we need a stop in Phoenix."

Outside, the sun was breathing on the tarmac of the road, baking it slowly, warm and splendid - the world itself was so bright Tony had to narrow his eyes or risk being blinded, and as a result he mostly looked down at the dark metal of the car; but this, for the first time in a while, made him sit up, and set a spark of life alight in his stomach.

"That's good," he said, and found himself smiling. "That's excellent."

* * * * *

A month ago, if someone had told Tony he'd be attempting to apprehend six dangerous cult members with a penchant for murder and theft from a densely populated area in broad daylight, he wouldn't just have laughed in heir face - he'd probably have taken them to a doctor to get their brain checked out.

And yet, here he was, doing exactly that.

Unfamiliar with the feeling of the black-framed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, he readjusted them for what felt like the millionth time today and then twitched the red snapback slightly along with it. The hat, of course, was ancient - but the glasses belonged to Patty, who had kindly removed the lenses so he'd be able to see. He'd partnered the accessories with a thick black scarf around his neck to hide his tattoos. It wasn't much of a disguise - but as he wandered through Capital Hill mall, eyes focused straight forwards, it seemed to have the maximum effect. Nobody jumped out from the shadows, recognising him - nobody came forwards to stop him as he headed for the charity shop at the far end of the place.

It was large, as charity shops went - draped with all sorts of clothing and gift material, toys for children and jewellery for grownups. Its name was Strawberry and was family run, with all proceeds going to a charity for the homeless. On the surface, it was inoffensive, built to serve a good cause; but beneath the floor panels lay something significantly more sinister.

Tony made sure to take a quick glance at the security camera behind the counter, checking the red light was either flashing or out before approaching - it was out, and he strolled up to the counter, where a girl of perhaps eighteen or nineteen was standing, bored and restless, tapping her fingers on the countertop. She was slight and dark, with eyes that told the customer she'd rather be anywhere else; but she brightened when Tony approached, straightening up. "Hi," she said brightly, eyes suddenly full of life. A good saleswoman - or actress. "What can I do for you?"

"Hi, I wonder if you could help me..." Tony began, trying to ignore the obsessive thoughts that were cycling round his brain as he flitted with nerves. Do you remember what to say? Don't forget. You can't forget. If you forget, you'll mess it up for everyone. Don't forget. You have to remember. Your memory can't let you down. "I'm looking for a Mr Reed. He works here, if I remember correctly?"

"I'm not sure Mr Reed is available, at the moment," she frowned, and Tony, expecting this reply, was not deterred.

"He'll see me, I'm sure."

The girl behind the counter - whose name, Tony read from her name tag, was Macy - bit her lip. "Perhaps...can I take a name, sir?"

"Tell him Mr Jones is here to see him. I'm sure he'll be able to make some time."

The girl, Macy, hesitated, unsure of what to do in this type of situation - but, as Tony was aware, it was her first day on the job, and she was desperate to please. So she smiled, nodded obligingly, and said; "I'll be two minutes sir, I'll just pop back and find him."