Mr Hook's Big Black Box

«Things I Don't Know»

"Wait," Marco interrupted, "You dived into the van? You were shaking so much you couldn't stand up without help. I thought you were in shock or something at first, but you were just that scared."

"Can you blame me?" Dwayne retorted, "There were guys with guns out there. Two groups of them, in fact. And it didn't surprise me at all to notice that the guys who'd been watching us on the way off campus were fighting against the real CIA."

"I guess. You took it worse than any of us. But I think I might have been just as bad if Ferrari hadn't been there to save my ass the first time we ran into the Russians. Monty was amazing, though. And how could you see them out of the window, when you were in the back of the van?"

"Okay, I filled in the story on my phone with what you and Monty told me. I was scared out of my mind, those couple of minutes are like a total blank. I know I was there, know I must have done something, but I don't remember it at all."

"Let me remind you, then," Marco grinned, relishing the opportunity to torment his friend. There was no real malice there, though. He watched Dwayne carefully, and he was sure he'd know where to stop before he crossed the line from teasing between friends to something actually hurtful. "You pulled yourself together just long enough to have a smart idea about using those trolleys to clear the open ground quicker. Then you fell apart like a sack of... of things that fall apart easily. You were crying and shaking, Monty had to help you onto the trolley so we could get you over to the other van, then you just curled up in the back in the fetal position, until all the noise stopped.

"You hugged me all the way to the farm," Destinee smiled, and then hurried to qualify the statement as she saw the blush building on his face, "It didn't mean anything, you were just terrified and I think you sensed I was able to give comfort on some level, almost as much as I needed it right then. We were both terrified. I was crying too, but Marco didn't see that. It's perfectly normal, if somebody's trying to kill you. We were so upset, and I think knowing somebody could care about me, that was a big help. I can't remember my childhood now, but I kind of think even someone wanting to be that close to me was a new thing."

There was a long period of silence in the club room, but it wasn't quite uncomfortable this time. Kris was happy to see Destinee recover even the faintest memory, and the group were all glad that she could have found a good moment amid so much chaos.

The moment finally ended when Kris asked: "You didn't get to Spenser's place at all?"

"No," Marco answered, "And I'm glad we didn't. Dwayne didn't see those guys from the back of the van, but I told him as much of what I'd seen when he woke up. The guys who'd been watching us in the morning, before we even left campus, at least some of them were Spenser's security guys."

"That was probably my fault," Kris admitted, "He called back, as I was waiting outside my lecture. I said you were on the way, but he wasn't certain. He thought you might go off on your own, make a different plan or something. I always thought he was a little paranoid. And I maybe kind of said it would be okay to scare you guys a bit, he's got plenty of ruffians under his employ, but I mandated they could not actually hurt my friends. I thought maybe if you were nervous about the CIA men, or whichever ruse they could pull off, you would be more inclined to hand the Box over at the depot without asking too many questions. Sorry guys."

"That's actually kind of what I figured," Ferrari shrugged, "I spent maybe half an hour digging on semi-official channels and calling in favours, trying to work out what was going on without clueing Trevor into your location. He didn't mention that incident to me later, I didn't even know he'd tried to bust you. I assumed the text message was enough to get you looking for an alternate safe place."

"That was you, then? I didn't have your number."

"Wouldn't have helped. Disposable phone, especially useful when I'm not quite following the company playbook and I want to keep what I'm doing secret from my own people."

"I guess that makes sense. Anyway, I finally heard back from my uncle, he said the farm isn't doing so well financially but we could park up there and see if any of the outbuildings are intact enough for what we want. The van got kind of scratched up leaving the parking lot, and at least two bullet holes in the back. Not to mention the logo of a plumber's company they would almost certainly have remembered. So right then, more than anything else we needed to get off the road to somewhere nobody would even think of looking for us."

"You know," Destinee broke into the silence this time, "It feels kind of weird going through this here. It's a place with memories, I know, but people are more important than places. I haven't even been to St Jude's in nearly four months."

"And I missed out that time," Kris stared at his hands, "Again. I keep putting it off."

"I don't think I even went once," Dwayne murmured, "It would have been strange. I guess I was the scared one again."

"You're not the only one," Marco admitted, "It just slips your mind. You keep on putting it off."

"That's why I have it in my diary," Destinee opened a little diary – an old-fashioned book, with appointments written in pen – and pointed out a starburst of ink that completely filled an afternoon. "I know how bad loneliness can be. Maybe now we've met up again, it'll remind you to start paying a visit too. Please?"

"I'll see when I've got time," Dwayne brought up his own schedule on his phone. Actually making an appointment, so he wouldn't forget again. There were some duties that were too easy to neglect, when they related to a bad memory. He'd usually say that he was going to go some time, and then forget about it before he came to check when he was free. Not this time.

"I will go this time," Marco said, "I mean that."

"We should continue the story, anyway," Ferrari said, "I guess telling the truth has been kind of therapeutic."

"Good idea," Destinee beamed, "Oh, do you mind if I take this sketchbook with me next week? I figure one of us should, yeah?"

"I was just about to suggest it," Kris answered, "And as far as the story goes, I think the next event of interest would be the arrival at Marco's cousin's farm. Was there an incident there?"

"Weren't you there?" Marco responded, "I'd kind of like to know what you were getting up to all the time we were fighting off fake CIA agents, and real CIA agents, and Greek drug smugglers."

"Hey, they weren't... well, I guess they must be drug smugglers. But I think more properly, they would just be described as crate smugglers. They don't sell or distribute anything, Spenser's whole business model was formed around moving boxes wherever they were wanted, and never asking what was inside. But yes, if you really want to hear my version of events, I will be happy to recount what I saw."