Tonight on The Greg Finnegan Show, an interview with Grant Marsden’s superior during his tenure in service. Learn even more about the American Hero.
—American Gazette
Frustration filled Grant. The boy was supposed to call an hour ago, and he hadn’t heard from Rex in forty-eight hours. He didn’t want to risk dialing out, in case the call was traceable. Too many people were watching him. Even though Grant had blocking technology, turning it on might signal something. He reminded himself Rex would have called if the situation had taken a turn for the worse, or maybe Rex was dead. Either way, the boy was more important.
On the plus side, if the boy met his demise at least Grant would have a new dummy to test his inventions out on. Human experimentation was something in which Grant hadn’t taken part in some time.
Peace and quiet,” the host said. “Still not scared?”
“No,” Grant said. “I am hungry though; will you untie me?”
The host picked up his chair and set it next to Grant’s. He cut up the fish and stabbed a piece with his fork, then fed it to Grant.
“Now everyone is happy,” the host said. “How many years until you report for duty?”
“Six,” Grant said.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” the host said. “It’s rude.”
Grant swallowed the fish.
“Do you know why you’re still alive?” the host asked.
“Because you’re having fun toying with me,” Grant said.
“The young, so reckless,” he said. “I’m impressed with you.”
He held up another piece and Grant took a bite.
“Two weeks and I had no idea; you sized up that man right away for what he was, and you have no fear. What should I do with you?”
“If you aren’t going to kill me, I guess let me go,” Grant said.
“I never let anyone go. I don’t like unserved men,” the host said. “I get one or two every year trying to break in or looking for work. They’re dirty and lack potential, and are missing a certain amount of refinement. You don’t show those qualities.”
Grant didn’t know how to respond. Then the rapid-fire questions came.
“If I asked you to kill that man, would you have?”
“Gladly,” Grant said.
“Why?”
“He was annoying.”
“Have you killed anyone before?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“One.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t like him.”
The host smiled and leaned back in the chair.
“I can’t kill you,” he said. “You remind me too much of myself.”
The host picked up a dinner knife and sliced through Grant’s bindings. The ropes loosened and Grant lifted his arms. The host still held the knife; he was ready to stab. Grant picked up his fork and took another bite of salmon. The host laughed.
“I think we can have some fun together,” the host said.
A vibration from Rod’s cell phone brought Grant back to reality. He picked up the device and went into the room next door. Rod was awake, flipping through one of the old books Grant had found to keep him entertained.
“You’re back,” Rod said. “Any news on my son?”
“He’s on the phone,” Grant said. “I want you to tell him you’re all right.”
Rod nodded and Grant flipped open the phone, hitting the speaker button.
“Dad?” Carter said.
Rod was tearing up. “It’s so good to hear your voice,” he said.
“You’re alive?” Carter said. “I knew you weren’t dead.”
“It was a bad accident,” Rod said. “They’re taking real good care of me.”
“I’m so sorry I let you down,” Carter said. “It should have been me who jumped out.”
“What are you talking about?” Rod asked.
Grant pulled the phone away and switched off the speaker. He held the phone up to his ear and walked out of the room, ignoring Rod’s calls.
“I can’t have you upsetting my patient,” Grant said.
“Who is this?” Carter asked.
“While we were never formally introduced, I think you enjoyed kicking me in the ribs several times,” Grant said.
There was silence on the other end.
“Now that we’re acquainted, let’s get down to business,” Grant said. “I have someone you want and you have something I want.”
Still silence, but Grant could hear the boy’s breathing.
“Bring me back my wife and you can have your father back. It’s simple.”
“She’s not a thing,” Carter said. “She’s a person.”
“She’s a woman,” Grant said. “But let’s not get bogged down with specifics. She’s mine and I want her back.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like these questions,” Grant said. “I’d be more worried about my intentions toward your father. Do you know what I do for a living?”
Silence.
“I make weapons,” Grant said. “I’m always on the lookout for someone I can test my models on. I have a knife that will shatter a bone as soon as it makes contact. I have a gun that will cause an infection to spread. A machete that is so sharp it can cut off an appendage with minimal effort.”
“Enough,” Carter said. “I can’t bring her back. I wouldn’t know how.”
“You can and you will,” Grant said.
“You’ll kill us as soon as we get there.”
“No, I am a man of my word. You and your father will go free. I’ll fly you anywhere in the world you like; I’ll even give you some seed money to start a new life.”
“Never,” Carter said.
“Okay.” Grant let out a sigh.
“Wait, don’t hurt him.”
“I’m going to kill him in a very slow and painful manner.”
“No,” Carter said, his voice filled with urgency.
Grant rolled his eyes.
“I’m not unreasonable,” Grant said. “You can call once a day and hear his voice, on speakerphone of course. The doctor expects his casts to come off in six weeks. You have one month until I start testing my weapons. Two months until he’s dead.”
“I can’t bring her back,” Carter said. “You’ll do the same to her.”
“No,” Grant said. “While she deserves punishment, I gain nothing from it but personal satisfaction. Your father’s torture, on the other hand, gives me something I want. His will be much, much worse than you can imagine.”
“I need more time.”
“This isn’t a deal,” Grant said. “It’s a fact. Those are my terms and the clock starts today.”
“Please let me speak to him again,” Carter said.
“Once a day,” Grant said. “Your father is quite happy here. He thinks he was in a car accident on his way to the capital to bid on a construction job and you’re safe at home in the Southwest Area. If you say anything to make him think otherwise I’ll make sure his stay here becomes less than pleasant. I know you are aware of the pain I am capable of inflicting.”
“You’re a monster,” Carter said.
“Thank you,” Grant said. “One piece of advice: I wouldn’t let her know what you’re up to. Talk to you tomorrow.”
Grant hung up the phone. Now he had to fix the small problem with Rod. He pasted on a smile and went back into the man’s room.
“Where’s my son?” Rod asked. “Why’d you take away the phone?”
“He was upsetting you,” Grant said. “Doctor’s orders. He’ll call tomorrow. Once a day until Dr. Schaffer says otherwise.”
“Why was he talking about jumping?” Rod asked.
“He wasn’t,” Grant said. “You have a severe head injury. All he said was he was sorry you were hurting. It should be him hurting.”
Rod’s eyes were red. He looked shaken and leaned back in the bed.
“I can talk to him longer tomorrow?” Rod asked.
“Of course,” Grant said. “As long as he doesn’t upset you.”
Grant’s personal phone went off. He checked the screen; it was the grand commander calling. No doubt with another pointless lesson to teach Grant about politics. None of which mattered; once Grant was the grand commander he would run the country a different way. He left Rod’s room and kept the plastic smile on his face as he answered his own call.