Chapter 23: Crashing
Sparky handed me a can of beer and set one in front of Rook. Sapphire declined the beverage and took a lemon lime soda from the fridge instead.
Rook cracked his beer and leaned back in his chair. "My guess is that they thought if they had you that they could dictate terms. Of course if Simon were to hear of this then he would have to cancel the deal on general principle, which he has said he doesn't want to do."
I could read between the lines. If Simon said he didn't want to cancel the deal then it meant he knew what happened. "So we just hang out down here until the thing is finished then everything is all sunshine and rainbows?"
"Pretty much. There is also a chance that someone else hired the kidnappers to prevent the deal from going through. If they succeeded then you would have been a valuable hostage. If they failed then it would possibly tank the negotiations. Either way, the threat to you will be gone by the morning."
"Unless this was something else." I pressed.
"That seems unlikely." Rook sipped his beer thoughtfully. "So far as I know, you don't have enemies of this caliber. Though if you do, please tell me."
Sapphire yawned and looked around. "Do you gentlemen have someplace I can crash out for a few hours?"
Sparky practically jumped into action. "I actually have a spot with some hammocks. I was going to crash out too."
"Wonderful. Lead the way." Sapphire said with a wink as she left the break room. Once they were both gone I grabbed two more beers from the fridge and sat down across the table from Rook.
"So. You served in the war?" I asked in Döbian, sliding a beer over to him.
"I have served in many wars." Rook replied, taking the beer and opening it one handed.
"You ever fight a shit ton of NBADDs in a bombed out town with some guys named Springer and Läufer?"
He took a sip and nodded.
It made sense. Läufer, Bauer, Springer, Turm and König were the names of chess pieces in Döbian. Their equivalents in Hund-Katzen were Bishop, Pawn, Knight, Rook and of course, King.
"You didn't exactly make it hard to crack the code." I replied. "So, you and Mr. Knight know my dad from the old days."
"That we do. We lost touch for a while, but those who are fated to die together often find themselves reunited eventually." He drained the can like he was making a toast and tossed it backward over his shoulder into the recycling bin without looking.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, we were supposed to die together in the camps, but we didn't. Then we were supposed to die when Gershwin chose us for his experiments, but we didn't. Later we were supposed to die during the war, but we didn't." He looked off into the middle distance as if remembering all of those who should have lived, but didn't.
"If you want a better explanation than that you will have to ask your father." Rook got up and tossed his paper plate in the compost. "I am going to get some sleep. I was going to use one of the hammocks in the storage room but I would guess they are currently in use."
"Yeah, that is probably a fair assessment. Good for Sparky though. God bless his pointed little head." I looked around. I was going to have to get creative if I didn't want to end up sleeping on a table.
"Come on. There are some crash pads by the climbing wall that should be comfortable enough and I know where they keep the emergency blankets." Rook said as he went to reclaim his gear from the rack. "I'd call for an air mattress but the whole point of bunkering down in the boneyard is that nobody knows we're here."
I watched as he pulled something red and round like a hockey puck out of a pouch on his plate carrier, pulled the adhesive backing off, and slapped it onto the door high up by the top. He flicked a switch on the device and stepped away. "It's a noise maker." He explained.
Then he went over to a climbing wall I hadn't noticed before and moved around some of the heavy crash pads to create a makeshift pair of beds. I figured if they were good enough to stop people who fell off the wall from dying then they were probably better than sleeping on the floor.
"Why didn't you get new shoes?" I asked as I saw Rook's socks and realized he hadn't replaced the boots he left behind at my apartment.
"I figured it would be better to just get a new pair tomorrow. Besides, I would rather not ask someone to bring me boots and then have to wonder if they were bugged or had a tracking device in the heel." He went over to a cabinet and pulled out some wool emergency blankets. "We use these for medical drills. They are scratchy, but better than nothing."
I gratefully accepted the blanket and contemplated what he had said about the boots. I wasn't sure if Rook was paranoid or just a professional. Then again, there was something to be said about a person who had managed to grow old in a profession where most died young.
I set the blanket down and prepared to do my evening rounds. "Come, walk with me before we crash out."
"That is probably a good idea." He grabbed his carbine and slung it across his chest.
I did my evening ritual of walking the perimeter and making sure everything was in its place. The sound of loud and enthusiastic lovemaking from behind one of the doors told me that Sparky and Sapphire were doing just fine.
I asked my scarab if there were any hidden dangers or katzen kidnappers in stealth suits but it didn't bring any to my attention. "Can I sleep with this thing on?" I asked, pointing to the scarab.
"That is an interesting question." Rook replied, thinking about it for a moment.
"On the one hand it will prevent someone from accessing your wetware while you sleep. On the other hand, you may have very strange dreams as your subconscious queries the device." He shrugged. "I probably wouldn't do it. It's not like you have to worry about Kerner Braverhund coming to take you in your sleep."
I froze at the mention of my Grandfather’s name. "Who?"
"Gershwin's son." He explained. "He was a very scary person, a body snatcher. But he has been gone for a while now."
"Oh." I relaxed. He was talking about Gershwin's son who died during the war, not my grandfather. "Did you know him too?"
"Only by reputation. He and his sister were nasty little beasts. She took over the Howlers when they lost their leadership and moved to Katzenlund to paint or something. He took over a group of Jagdkommandos and caused a bunch of chaos before he died. That whole family was nothing but trouble."
"What falls from the sky?" I asked, remembering the joke that Grandfather Braverhund liked to tell when he got out of a chair or stepped off a ledge and was pretending it was too high for his old bones. He would act like he was a parachutist jumping from an airplane.
"Trouble." Rook answered. "Trouble falls from the sky."
I sat down on the crash pad, I was exhausted and hitting that almost delirious state but I couldn't sleep yet. "Today sucked." I said.
"Then there is no choice but to embrace it, as all days good and bad must be embraced." He curled up under his blanket with his plate carrier and carbine on the ground next to the crash pad on the side that was away from the door. "Now, go to sleep."
I laid back and pulled the scratchy green wool emergency blanket over me. I tried sleeping with my jacket on but the extra layer proved not to be worth the discomfort. I tossed it on the ground and went back under the blanket.
I missed my bed back home. I missed my white noise machine and my vibrator. But perhaps this wasn't so bad. Tomorrow Simon's deal would be finalized and I could go back to my old life. Detective Chowder would close the investigation and I would finally be able to start my career as a police officer.
My eyes were getting heavy. Sleep started to claim me. My body had been running full tilt for too long and was demanding rest. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, but that sleep was troubled.