The Good Deed ~COMPLETE~

Chapter 14: Beer Me

Mark pushed the cart out. He looked back at me, smiled and gave me a nod. He disappeared from sight around the corner and the elevator doors closed once again. I took the elevator back up to the third floor.

The thought of something happening to my brother gave me terrible anxiety. My chest was tight, my breaths short and it was hard to inhale. I just needed to sit down and relax for a few minutes. Maybe drink a glass of water or something to keep my anxiousness at bay. In reality, the only thing that would help would be Mark returning safely.

I followed the long hallway back to room 314. As I approached, what I saw didn't help my anxiety any. The maids cart was still outside the room and the door was wide open. I crept up to the edge of the opened door and peeked into the room. There were two hotel security guards. One was looking around the room. The other was talking to the maid. I was careful not to be seen. I stayed outside the door and listened.

The maid was Hispanic but she could speak English fairly well. "The man, he says, here take some money, he has a hundred dollar. I say no, no I can't take. That money is too much." The cleaning lady spilled her guts, "So, I doing my job and when I turn around the man is gone and my key is gone too."

One of the security guards questioned, "What did the man look like?"

The maid did her best to describe my brother, "He is tall, maybe 6 foot, I don't know. He skinny and have short hair, like army man. He has a blue jean and he wear a green shirt. It say beer or something."

My heart leapt into my throat. I was not my brother, nor did I look like him, but I just so happened to be wearing his clothes... the BEER ME shirt might as well have read, ARREST ME. An unwanted search would find I had the stolen key card as well. I started to turn and run, when I heard the other security guard say, "Whoa, I found a gun in here."

I didn't wait around to hear anymore. I ran down the hall, rounded a corner and hid in the stairwell. My anxiety got worse. My heart beat against my chest, like a prisoner pounding on a cell door, screaming, 'let me out, let me out, let me out'.

Moments later the two guards and the maid rounded the corner. With their backs to me they headed toward the elevators. I watched from the window of the stairwell door. My hopes faded when I saw what the guards carried. One of them carried Marks black duffle bag, the other had the shopping bag, which held my clothes.

I called Mark. Thankfully he answered, "This is Benjamin."

I believed I had dialed the wrong number, "Mark?"

"Ah, yes sir, I'll be there right away sir."

Mark was still in Jacob Scholtz's room. My timing could not have been worse, but Mark played it off perfectly.

I whispered as if Jacob Scholtz could hear me, "Listen, take the stairs and avoid any and all hotel staff." I warned Mark.

"Absolutely sir, I understand. Good bye." Mark hung up.

I hurried to room 314. I used the stolen card to open the door. I went straight to the nightstand, opened it and breathed a sigh of relief. The .45 was still resting next to the bible. The security guard had only found Marks gun in the duffle bag. I picked the weapon up and slipped it in the small of my back.

Sitting on the bed, my pulse was still galloping. My mind was racing. All I could think about was the security guards returning to do a more thorough search and finding me and arresting me. I'd fail my mission, The Operation would kill my family, but let me live and from that burden, I'd eventually lose my mind. Having been tormented by the guilt and I'd put a gun to my own head and take my life, but I'd somehow screw it up and the bullet would just graze my brain, leaving me alive but in a vegetative state, I'd spend the next 50 years in hospice care, drooling on myself and relying on other people to feed me and wipe my ass...

"STOP!" I yelled aloud at my own paranoid thoughts. I jumped up from the bed. My head was spinning, chills rushed my body again. I ran into the bathroom and hugged the toilet. For the second time in just over an hour, I heaved.

I splashed water in my face, stepped from the bathroom and after what seemed like the longest seven minutes of my life, Mark returned from his delivery safely.

Mark used the appropriate keycard to open the door. When he saw me, his first words were, "You look like shit."

I had lost most of the color in my face, I was sweating and I reeked of vomit. "We have to get out of this room, hotel security guards were here. They took your duffle bag and my clothes. They're looking for you."

"What are we gonna do?" Mark seemed lost at the thought of his duffle bag having been taken.

"We continue with the assignment... we just need to be more careful now." I sat on the bed again. "How'd the food delivery go?"

"Great, they didn't suspect a thing. Jacob even tipped me twenty bucks." Mark pulled the bill from his pocket.

"We have to figure out how to get the bodyguards away from the door." I looked at Mark for his suggestions. I didn't get any.

I gave Mark the index card with Nicholas' and Ivan's phone numbers. I had to get out of the green BEER ME shirt, but had no other clothes to wear. Mark gave me the jacket from the suit. I removed the name tag and put the jacket on. It covered all of the green shirt except the neck.

I was no longer comfortable being in room 314. "Let's relocate to another room." I suggested.

Mark was in agreement. We headed to the stairwell and went up; we decided the sixth floor was as good a floor as any. With the master keycard I check the door nearest to the stairwell, room 637. I swiped the card and with a click, the door unlocked.

I pushed the door open and said "Hello".

Nobody answered; the room was vacant. All of the rooms in the hotel had the same layout, room 637 was no exception. The room was muggy, as was our previous room. I turned the air conditioning unit on high.

Out of fear that I might shoot myself in the back, I hid the gun in the nightstand once again.

I had been brain storming on a way to distract the twins. Nothing I came up with would have worked. In my mind, there wasn't anything we could do to get them away from their posts. Our time was ticking away as I continued to draw blanks.

Suddenly, Mark had an idea. "What about the cowboy? You think he would help?"

Marcus had told me he was not there to help, but still he had given me the keycard and the name tag.

"Marcus? I don't know, maybe." It was worth a try to ask for help. "He went to the ninth floor. I'll go up and look around to see if I can find him." It seemed, that avoiding the undercover agent and sparing myself anymore pain was no longer an option.

"You want me to come with you?" Mark attempted to be supportive.

"No, you need to keep out of sight. Security will be looking for you. Just stay here, I'll be back." I promised, as I left our new room.

Once again I returned to the stairwell. My legs ached with each step. When I reached the ninth floor, I was exhausted. Nobody roamed the halls, it appeared deserted. Many of the lights were either off, or burnt out. Each floor of the hotel housed 40 rooms; I didn't have a clue as to which room Marcus would be in.

As I walked the hallways listening for any movement, I suddenly remembered the index card. I pulled it from my pocket: 'IN CASE OF EMERGENCY ( 9 1 1 )' This was somewhat of an emergency.

It was a good place to start. Besides, I didn't have time to check every room. I followed the corridor to the door marked 9 1 1 and knocked... no answer. I slowly slipped the master keycard in the slot and the door clicked. I eased the door open and peaked in. It was quiet so I proceeded. I listened intently. Other than my heart beating, there was not a peep. I entered the main area of the room, where the bed sat, unmade. I put my hand on the sheet. It was warm. Someone had been here very recently.