FBR chapter 3 scene 2

Ben stayed very still.

“Move.” A rough hand pushed him towards the shed door. Just short of the wall, he was kicked to his knees.

“Put your hands behind your head.”

“What do you want?” hissed Ben in exasperation. The words were barely out of his mouth when a blow sent him sideways into the gravel.

“Get up, put your hands behind your head.” The barrel of the pistol pressed painfully into the back of Ben's head. Slowly he struggled to his knees and put his hands behind his head.

Someone frisked Ben quickly and efficiently.

“Clean.”

Arthur bent down near Ben's ear. “We have to kill you now.” The voice was so matter of fact, so assuming of the right to do whatever he wanted, Ben's stomach clenched. He was going to die right here.

Whether it was the car crash, the night laying hidden on the cold wet ground, lack of food and water, or just simple primitive fear, Ben felt his bladder let go and the warmth saturate his pants and puddle on the ground around him. Slowly he slumped and fell over. The distant sound of men's laughter was the last thing he heard.

“Wake the fuck up fagot” He found himself being shaken. Cold water splashed into his face, and he sputtered fully awake.

“Arthur squatted near him in the dirt, careful, not to actually kneel in the gravel. The noise of the helicopter rotors was gone.

“You have been a very very bad boy Ben. You have truly pissed off people, important people. These people Ben, these people solve their problems very quickly. I know that Ben because I am hired to solve those very problems. Do you understand me?”

Ben remained silent for a moment. “What are you talking about, I'm just a line walker for Barrone Row. . .”

Arthur's arm flashed out and cuffed Ben across the face, knocking him flat to the urine soaked ground.
“Do you understand me?” Arthur waited while Ben wiped the blood from his nose on the sleeve of his work shirt and stared with hatred at the man who was about to kill him.

“Fuck you, you're going to kill me anyway, so answer your own fucking questions!”

Ben prepared himself for the blow, but it stopped just inches away from his face, and turned into a gentle play slap.

“There you are, I knew you had to be in there somewhere. Do you know who I am Ben?”

Ben nodded. “I think so.”

“Good, good. You see Ben, I do have discretion. These other men,” gesturing around them to the four other men who had taken up positions around Ben, “well they do what they are ordered to.” If I wasn't here Ben, you would have died when you opened the door to the tool shed. You understand that right.”

Ben merely stared at Arthur, wondering where this was going.

“So Ben, you could actually say I have saved your life today, right? Ben simply stared back in disbelief at Arthur.

“Are you fucking crazy?” asked Ben. This time the blow was not a caress, it lashed out slapping Ben flat. In a instant Arthur was on his feet, his gun's barrel wedged behind Ben's ear as Ben lay flat on the gravel. Arthur's arm was shaking, vibrating.

Ben simply cowered and waited for the inevitable end to this confusion.

Arthur stood up, “pick him up” he ordered two of the men. Without effort the two black clad security men each grabbed an arm and pulled him to his feet.

Arthur was all business now. “Ben, you have ten seconds to talk to me, “ he said, raising the pistol to Ben's forehead.

The men on each side of Ben turned their heads away as not to be splashed by the blood and brain matter that were inevitable when Arthur shot a subject in the forehead.

“I don't know what you think I did,” Ben cried.

“I believe you Ben, I think you really don't know. But Lady P does not come all this way for nothing Ben. I think you saw something. She must think you saw something. Think Ben, think and save your life. I can do that you know, I have the option not to squeeze this trigger Ben, but you have to help me. What did you see,” shouted Arthur.

“Fuck I don't know, just this pipeline, just this diversion off the Connector. I don't know, it's nothing, its not important!” Ben was practically shouting as Arthur grimaced. Just maybe, he thought, Ben really didn't know anything, fucking Patricia.

Arthur hesitated, lost in thought for a moment. He hadn't really looked around when they had set this trap for Ben. They knew he hadn't come down the hillside, and this was the only structure within miles, so he had sent his men in, cut the lock off and waited for Ben to make his way here. Once in the compound and in the shed, they had closed in, signaling the helicopter to land.

Maybe this was what Patricia had been protecting, this compound. Arthur lowered the gun fractionally. “What is this place Ben?”

“I don't know exactly, some sort of spur line off the gas and liquids pipeline on the hill. It is odd, I've never seen anything like it.”

Arthur looked around, at the shed again, and motioned to the two guards to hold Ben. Arthur entered the shed, looked around saw the cinder block construction on the inside, hidden by the cheap old galvanized steel roofing and siding. It was a very nice small shed, build to look old and neglected. The floor was concrete with two large inset steel plates. There were no handles and no way to lift them.

Possibly Ben is on to something, thought Arthur, but what? Arthur left the shed. “So what is this Ben?”

“I don't know, it's some sort of small pipeline but there are no pumps.” Ben did not mention the three cleared areas outside the fence that might be buried tanks.

“Two bad Ben, I guess you can't help me after all.” With that Arthur raised his weapon and motioned the two men away. As he did so, one of the other guards on the perimeter called “Incoming.”

Arthur hesitated and listened. There was the gentle thump thump of the old style helicopters. Before variable pitch, the “thump thump thump was characteristic of the heavy military helicopters. Global used nearly silent blade designs, but this was sounded military. It was coming their way.

“Shit,” said Arthur, almost to himself, but then realized this was for the best. He didn't think Ben was being completely honest, and perhaps they should wait a bit before delivering his body to Homeland Security. Perhaps Patricia had grown impatient and roped in the local National Guard out of Eugene. Time to be going.

Arthur motioned to the guards to toss Ben into the shed. Without further discussion Ben was dumped onto the floor of the shed, the heavy door was slammed shut, and Ben could just hear a padlock being threaded through the hasp of the door. Then there was a whistling should, a whispering rise and a whine as the black helicopter in the compound lifted off. Inside the shed, Ben couldn't hear if the second helicopter had come closer, and with the closing of the door, the lights had shut off.

Crawling across the floor by touch, Ben found the remote by feel, behind the weed whacker. He pressed the button and the two steel plates rose slowly again and light flooded up from the floor below.