Sixty-One

My Honda Accord Zipcar rested in blissful anonymity in the Russell’s Garden Center parking lot. I had chosen the Accord because it was the least likely car to be remembered by eyewitnesses. Ornamental shrubs dotted a flat landscape that led up a low rise to hothouses and long buildings that sold houseplants and garden supplies. Global Defense Systems lay beyond those buildings across Route 20.

Hugh Graxton parked his BMW next to my Accord. He and Oscar climbed out. I felt exposed in front of Oscar without Jael, but I had left her in Boston. If I got caught doing this, I’d be arrested. If Jael got caught, there’d be an international incident. Of course, that wasn’t to say there wouldn’t be one anyway. The closer I got to the idea of espionage, the more my stomach tightened. It thrummed like a bass drum as I saw Walt emerge from the one of the hothouses.

Walt approached and called, “Tucker? What are you doing with him?”

Graxton put his finger to his lips and turned to walk away from the buildings and into the scrubby brush behind the Garden Center. Nobody noticed us disappear from view.

When we were hidden, Walt approached Graxton. “What’s this about?”

Graxton nodded to Oscar, who punched Uncle Walt in the stomach.

“Hey!” I said.

Oscar glared at me and Graxton said, “You shut up now and let the man work. You’re getting what you want.”

Walt was doubled over. He straightened partway and said, “What was that for?”

Oscar slapped Walt across the face with an open palm, knocking him to the ground. Oscar closed in, aiming a kick.

Graxton said, “That’s enough.”

Oscar lowered his foot. I saw a light tremor in his arms. He was itching for Walt to give him an excuse.

Walt stayed down, cradling his red cheek.

“Walt,” Graxton said, “you owe me money.”

“Yeah, but—” started Uncle Walt.

“But what, Walt? What? You’re going to pay me now?”

“You know I can’t pay you now.”

“Then how did Oscar surprise you with a punch in the stomach? You didn’t pay me. Why shouldn’t you get a punch in the stomach?”

Walt rubbed his lip and spit onto the ground. There was no blood. “What’s Tucker doing here?”

Graxton wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Tucker here is paying off your debt.”

“What?”

Graxton strode over to Walt, grabbed him by his blue button-down shirt, and pulled him to his feet. He held Walt close. Walt scrabbled at Graxton’s fist where it held his shirt. “What do you want from me?”

Graxton released the shirt. “It’s simple, Walt. I want you to sneak Tucker here into GDS so he can steal some secrets and save his girlfriend. That’s all. I just want you to enable a heartwarming tale of love and espionage.”

“I can’t—” started Walt.

Graxton raised his hand. “Don’t even.”

“I’ll get fired. I’ll get arrested. I’ll lose my pension.”

“Your pension? Walt, are you worried about outliving your money?”

“Well—”

“Oscar, you hear this? Walt doesn’t want to outlive his money.” Graxton bore into Walt. “Trust me, shithead, you’re not going to outlive anything.”

“I’ll pay you. I swear!”

Graxton straightened his jacket and said, “You’re not going to pay us. Tucker’s going to pay us, right after you get him into GDS. C’mon, Oscar.”

Oscar lumbered over to Graxton, passing Walt. Oscar raised his hand, and Walt flinched as Oscar patted his head. Oscar and Graxton walked out of the woods, side by side.

I turned to Walt. “I need to do this.”

“Don’t you talk to me,” Walt said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.”

I shut up.

Walt squatted and drew a rectangle in the dirt. “This is the building. Meet me at this back corner in fifteen minutes. I’ll get you in a side door.”

“We’re not using the lobby?”

“I don’t want us going into the lobby together, you idiot. Once you’re inside, I’ll get you to Patterson’s old computer. Then you’re on your own.”

He stood, turned, and walked away.

I called out. “I’m sorry, Uncle Walt!”

Walt turned. “Fuck that uncle stuff. We’re done after today, you hear me?”

I heard him. Didn’t blame him a bit. I’d be done with me too.