Unintentional Consequences
Rand Bauge slices through the mid-day traffic like a razor cutting a thin piece of paper. He does not follow anyone, just tries to avoid colliding with other vehicles. Desperation is full blown on his face. He is intent not to let anything get in the way, to reach his destination. While not especially warm this time of day his body is hot, sweat drips down his face, drops cling against his roughed skin like icicles that form from water freezing. There is no time to flip on the air conditioning to let the cool recycled air lower his body temperature, no thought to close the car windows to keep the outside muggy air away, no time for much of anything other than to get home as fast as he can. It seems like forever to get across town, to return to his home, to find out what is going on. She sounded so desperate, so much in need of him by her side. He wipes his face as dry as possible with the cuff of his sleeve, and then returns both hands to secure the steering wheel. He swerves in the nick of time to avoid scraping the side of a slower moving vehicle. "Get the hell out of my way! Can't you see I'm in a hurry?" His eyes are almost ready to pop out of their sockets.
There was something in Molly's voice that troubled him, more than a touch of worry, but rather real fear that something dreadful would happen if he didn't hurry.
"Move out of my way!" The scream mostly serves to lessen his tension than having any effect on the driver of the other vehicle.
It is hard to break old habits, giving orders to others who dutiful obey and pushing around people who are intimidated.
That was then. When he spoke, people listened. He was top-notch, both feared and respected. He loved it, in fact addicted to everything about it. It did not take him long to accept that role as long as he remembered he was in service to protect the lives and liberties of United States citizens from harmful threats outside the borders. He could write books about those experiences, but would probably have to change names of people and places for security and liability reasons. Maybe one day he will put pen to paper, maybe not. Those times gave him an emotional rush he had never experienced before. He would give almost anything to feel it again. His wife knew a little of what he did, but to keep her safe, he told her very little. That relationship seemed to be acceptable to both of them. However, there were times when he desperately wanted to tell her everything, to let her know what he was going through, to get a little sympathy and understanding. Yet, he kept to his promise to both her and himself ... silence ... no need to worry her about something she could not change.
Things are different now. Today his business card identifies him as a Crisis Management Consultant, a far cry from the international engagements he enjoyed being a part of for such a long time. He is a retired civil servant, more than twenty years serving his Government in various top secret capacities around the world, usually in dangerous and life-threatening situations.
It was not his idea to step aside. He figured he had at least another five years before he would call it quits but someone else made that decision for him. He assumed he had obviously done something to seriously upset someone in high places, but who that person might be is still a big mystery. He has a likely list of suspects who probably wanted him to get out their hair. Maybe even one or two would have even wanted him dead. He embarrassed more than one high ranking State official within several countries. Sometimes only one is too many.
Rand steps on the brake in the nick of time to avoid running a red light. "Damn it!" He pounds the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. "Let's get going!" Inner tension builds. He glances at the passenger seat where his cell phone rests, the device that started it all, got him all worked up. For a split second he looks up at a sign pasted on a store front window ... Buy One and Get Another For Five Cents. He frowns not sure what is for sale, but a good gimmick none-the-less. His stare continues without much further thought. He is tempted to grab for the cell phone to give Molly a call, to ask a few more questions about what is going on, but he resists.
She made it quite clear that he needed to get home pronto ... there was an emergency and he was the only one who could solve it. That was all it took for him to change his plans for the day.
He hears a sound. Honk! Honk!
Rand jumps, shaken out of a temporary trance, looks in the rearview mirror, then at the red light now turned green. "I'm ready to play!" He presses on the accelerator. Now bound and determined to make up for lost time, he speeds through the next intersection just missing a messenger service guy on a bike. "Out of my way!" He speeds though a few more traffic crossroads after that. "I'm in a hurry!"
Up ahead he spots road construction, vehicles now in one lane, moving slower than snails. There's a city worker who wears an orange vest; his safety helmet tilts to one side; he holds a sign ... Slow. The guy looks bored. Rand shakes his head in disgust, projects his frustration on the man who is simply doing his job. He quickly thinks of an alternative route to by-pass the predicament but concludes rather soon there is no other way around it. So, he settles into the straight and narrow line of vehicles. His emotions, however, are far from relaxed. His stomach growls a little so he reaches into his shirt pocket for a few pink tablets to pop into his mouth. His teeth grind them to small pebbles that he easily swallows.
Out of the corner of his eye he spots someone walking on the sidewalk. Is it someone he recognizes? He isn't sure. Now squinting, he stares at her, and then blinks. Something about her appearance makes him think he knows her. The frown on his face emphasizes the puzzlement. His eyes carefully follow her movements. The woman stops at the corner of the street, looks both ways, steps off the curb, and walks to the other side of the street. He is now convinced he knows her but for the life of him he cannot figure it out. Then, a blue-flash blazes directly at him. He blinks twice. He tells himself he must be hallucinating because she passed away a few years back. It can't be her! The gro