Cold Hell - 16. Chapter 15

For the next two months I worked under the tutelage of my father, participating in board meetings, traveling with him to different subsidiaries, and overseeing production. I knew he was trying to prepare me to take over the company when he was ready to retire. This was the closest I could ever remember being to him than at any other point in my life.

I still resented him, still blamed him for so many things: not just for the death of my mother, but for making me feel cornered, like I had no choice in matters or any other place to go. But when had any Aamodt ever had a choice other than to continue the family legacy?

My life changed forever when I accompanied my father, along with Uncle Charlie, on a business trip to New York. We were meeting with the head of a company called Innovate. Father had produced a product the company would potentially buy and use for their own gains. So we got on one of my father's fancy air jets and flew to New York.

I was surprised when Danni Aamodt IV asked me to sit beside him on the flight. Even now, unless it was about business, we never talked. Not really.

"Whiskey?" he said, holding up the glass in my direction. Uncle Charlie sat across from us, also enjoying a drink.

"Sure." I needed something to help calm my nerves, to prepare myself for whatever my father had to say.

He waved the stewardess over. "Whiskey on the rocks, please."

I sipped at my drink, wincing at the sharp taste of whiskey. It had been months since I'd had a drink.

"You are doing very well," my father said to my surprise. "Better than I expected."

I was stunned. "Thanks," was all I could manage to say.

He nodded with the smallest twitch of a smile. "This business deal with Innovative is very important. Not only is it profitable, but this deal secures a permanent partnership with Innovate. The influence of our company continues to spread."

We landed in New York only a few hours after boarding the jet. My father's private jet was currently the fastest model in the sky, having been produced by none other than Aamodt Corporation. He even had his own landing strip.

As soon as the plane landed my father, Uncle Charlie, and I loaded into a limousine which took us to The Four Seasons hotel. Though the journey hadn't taken nearly as long as I expected, my nerves were fraught. I wished Father and Uncle Charlie good night and went to my suite. I decided I would have myself a drink or two, sobriety be damned. I ordered a meal and a bottle of chilled spiced rum through room service. Less than half an hour later there was a polite knock at the door.

I answered the door and saw a man dressed in a bell-hop uniform. I noted, with a single glance, he was very attractive with olive-tinted skin and dark brown eyes. I was about to thank him for his service when his arm shot out suddenly.

Before I could react, a terrible, shock racked my body and I felt my muscles seize. I tried to take a step back only to fall face first on the floor. I managed to roll on my back as my attacker came towards me, a stun baton in his hand. "Wait," I managed to say before another shock went through my body and everything went momentarily black.

When I came to, my hands were handcuffed to the sides of the headboard. My attacker sat in a chair at the foot of my bed. He was no longer wearing a uniform, but instead a white tank top and black combat pants. I said the first thing that came to my mind. “I have lots of money. We can work something out.”

“I don’t want your money,” the man said, standing up. He was tall, well-built. His head was completely shaved. There was a tattoo on his right bicep but it was hard to tell exactly what it was from this angle.

A chill went up my spine. For the first time since the day I’d been followed by those men in the alley several years ago, I feared for my life. “What do you want from me then?”

“Right now I just want you to listen to me. When I’m done talking I will untie you and let you go back to what you were doing. Until then, if you try to do anything such as scream for help, I will taze you again.” He spoke with the calmness and inflection of someone completely sane, who was aware of exactly what he was doing. I sensed no real threat from him but I also believed he would taze me again if I tried to escape. Just listen to what he has to say if that’s all it takes, I told myself.

“O-Okay,” I said, licking my lips.

“My name is Juan,” he said. “I’m the leader of a group called ELF. I’m sure you’ve heard of us on the news.”

ELF? Yes, I had heard of them, but it had been quite some time. ELF (Earth Liberation Front) was a group of eco-terrorists whose sole mission was striking at companies who specialized in advanced technology. The last time I’d heard of them had been just before my mother died. Their main tactic was to hack through advanced security networks and air out the dirty laundry of companies they felt were corrupt. For a time they’d disappeared and gone underground completely without any activity. When the authorities couldn’t find them they gave up.

I fought to breathe calmly. “Are you going to kill me?”

“No,” Juan said patiently. “Like I said, I just want to talk. I’ve been watching you for a while.”

My heart skipped a beat. Watching me? But how? Had he followed me all the way here to New York City? As if reading my mind, Juan smiled, showing very straight very white teeth, and said, “It’s not that hard to keep track of people. Especially people as filthy rich and well known as the Aamodts.”

I shifted, uncomfortable. I felt nauseous and there was a throbbing pain in my head.

“You work closely with your father, correct?”

I nodded. “I help him schedule meetings and accompany him on business trips...”

“So he’s grooming you to take his place,” said Juan with a chuckle. “Preparing you to sit on his throne. Interesting. Would you want to take over if you knew all the dirty shit he and his predecessors have done over the years? All supposedly in the name of saving the world? Not many people do because he keeps it all so tightly wrapped up. What proof we do have is here, on this flash drive.” He held up a small square device no bigger than the cuticle of my thumb. “Hopefully this will be enough to convince you.”

I licked my lips; they were cracked and shrivelled. God, I was so thirsty. “Convince me to do what?”

“To help me bring your father’s company down. He is the earth’s biggest threat. If we take down Aamodt Corporation all the other companies will fall with it. But the firewalls and security guarding the information we need to flush out Aamodt Corporation is too well protected for my people to be able to hack into it.”

“What makes you think I would help you, his own son?”

“Maybe you won’t,” Juan said, coming around to the side of the bed so he was towering over me. Up close he was quite imposing. And yet even though I was handcuffed to the bed, speaking with a dangerous terrorist, I no longer felt afraid of him or for my life. “I guess I’m hoping you’ll be different,” he said. “I expect you’ll need some time to think it over which is why I’m leaving you this...” He set the flash drive on the bedside table. “And this...” He held up an old twenty-first century cell phone. “It’s programmed to go only one way and there’s no way to trace where the return call is coming from, so don’t even try to take it to the authorities. When you’ve come to your decision, call me.”

He pulled out a key ring and leaned over me. For the ten seconds it took him to unlock the handcuffs we were so close together I could feel the heat coming off his skin, see tufts of dark chest hair poking out from beneath his tank top, a whiff of his deodorant. Once the handcuffs were removed I sat up on the edge of the bed and watched him pull on his jacket. I couldn’t shake off the surreal feeling I was still in a dream.

He left, slowly closing the door behind him.

I did not sleep for the rest of the night. The thought Juan just might change his mind and finish me made sleep impossible. I paced my room, so nervous and afraid I felt sick to my stomach. I knew I should do something, call the police or at the very least tell Uncle Charlie and Father what had happened...but I didn't. Because on some level I believed what Juan had told me about my father and the company.

When I could no longer stand thinking about it, I grabbed the tiny flash drive Juan had given me and plugged it into my laptop. Within a minute I had the files on the disk pulled up. Meticulously I went through each file, watching and listening to audio files.

What I saw on the data disk wasn't enough to damn my father or the company, but it was enough to confirm what I had always known: Danni Aamodt IV was a monster; I was descended from monsters.

The sun was just starting to come up when I picked up the old cell phone and pressed the speed-dial button.

"That was quick," a distorted voice said. I suspected it was Juan, assuming Juan was his real name. I can't believe I'm calling a terrorist, I thought, dizzied by the surrealistic events of the past several hours. "Have you made your decision?"

"Not yet. I went through the files on the disk. I'm not fully convinced yet but you've definitely caught my attention. If you want a definite answer from me you're going to have to show me more."

"Okay." It was hard to tell, but the voice on the other line sounded pleased. "I understand. We can provide more evidence if that's what it takes to fully convince you. Once you get back to Roc City call me again and we will arrange a meeting."

                    ...

It was hard pretending to act like everything was okay after some of the things I'd seen on the flash drive: the different companies Aamodt Corporation had helped fund through my father, research on cloning and genetic experimentation that involved animals, and on some occasions, humans.

Exiling criminals on a barren ice planet was one thing, but what the videos depicted was simply barbaric and inhumane. I could only imagine how ELF had gotten this information. Still, even after what I'd seen on the drive, I needed to see these things with my own eyes before I made a definite decision.

Three nights after Uncle Charlie, Father, and I returned from New York City I found myself standing underneath an overpass on Slope Avenue. My clothes and hair were soaked from the torrential downpour falling from the sky. The voice on the phone had asked me to dress in all black.

A dark Sedan with tinted windows glided up to the sidewalk For a moment the headlights bathed me in ghostly yellow light. I stepped back cautiously to avoid getting splashed. The window rolled down with a mechanical purring sound, to reveal the face of an Asian woman. Her black hair was cut short in a punky, layered sort of bob and her tiny mouth was colored dark red from a healthy amount of lipstick. Sitting beside the woman, in the driver's seat, was a nondescript man who wore a black beanie and dark sunglasses.

"Get in," the woman said tersely.

"Who are you?" I blurted. This was nothing like what I'd expected.

The woman glared at me. "We don't have time to fuck around. Get in the fucking car."

Did I have a choice? Would someone shoot me if I tried to run? What mess had I gotten myself into? My mind raced as I stepped towards the car and opened the door. I will admit, as I write this, that while I didn't know the consequences my decision would bring in the future, I had a strange sense that something was propelling me forward - a weird experience since I have never believed in any sort of higher power.

Juan was sitting in the back seat of the Sedan. He smiled invitingly at me, dressed in the same black garb I'd seen him in back at the hotel. Not for the first time since that strange night, I replayed the brief moment when he had leaned over me to take off the handcuffs. I could still smell his deodorant, as if somehow he'd imprinted me with his scent.

"Ready to go on an adventure?" he asked.

I climbed in the car, closed the door behind me. The engine of the car growled as the driver sped up, leaving Roc City behind us.

"Don't look so frightened," Juan said. "We're not going to hurt you. We only hurt people when we feel they need to be hurt."

"I'm not afraid," I managed to say in a steady voice. Which was of course a lie.

Juan, to his credit, didn't call me out on my bullshit. "These are my compadres," he said, gesturing at the man and woman sitting up front. “This is Cookie...” He pointed a gloved finger at the woman. “And this is Tinker.”

“Tinker?” I asked.

“Short for Tinkerbell,” the driver said with a scoff. “You know, like the little fairy from Peter Pan?”

“Why do they call you Tinkerbell?” I asked, truly curious.

“Only because he’s the best damn hacker that’s ever existed,” Cookie said, punching Tinker lightly in the shoulder. “The only thing is he’s too damned modest to admit it.”

I frowned. These people certainly didn’t act like terrorists. I turned my focus back on Juan. It wasn’t hard to do - I found him easy on the eyes. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“Tootulu,” he replied. “There’s a research facility there...a sort of slaughterhouse. I want you to see all the terrible things your father is capable of. Tell me, Danni, do you get along with your father?”

“Not until the last couple of months,” I said. “We’ve never exactly been close.”

“Why is that?”

I could think of a thousand answers. “He’s not exactly the most affectionate man.”

“Ah.” Juan smiled. “Didn’t show up to any of your baseball games, did he?”

Was he making fun of me? I couldn’t tell. “I’ve never been a fan of baseball. Let’s just say it’s not easy being his son, living in his shadow, trying to meet his expectations.”

“You’re not the first son who doesn’t get along with their father,” said Juan.

By now we had left the city limits. Rain pattered against the windshield, making light music. Outside the vague shapes of farmhouses and barns loomed in the dark. I studied my companions as best as I could. I would have placed Juan in his early thirties. None of them seemed much older than myself. Of course, with the advancement of cosmetics since the twenty-first century there really was no telling how old they were.

We passed through the small town of Tootulu. It was strange seeing the tiny houses and buildings again. The last time I’d been here was when I’d gone through rehab. I thought of Chuck and the stall with the horses. I missed being around them; I missed the sense of calm they gave me.

Tinker drove for another fifteen minutes or so before turning into the driveway of a decrepit looking farmhouse. Gravel ground beneath the tires. I looked at Juan, confused. What were we doing here?

“This isn’t the facility of course,” he said. “We’re close to it, but this is as close as we go with the car. We go the rest of the way on foot.”

In the rain? I wanted to say. But I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want him to think I was afraid of getting wet.

The four of us climbed out of the car. The lonely sight of the house, with its sagging roof, porch, and empty windows gave me the chills. Out here in the country, in the dark, I felt as if the earth had purged itself of all human life and I was the only person in the world besides these three strangers. Juan, Cookie, and Tinkerbell grabbed duffel bags from the back of the car and began leading the way from the Sedan, towards the back of the house.

I followed them further behind the house. I tried to keep my focus on just putting one foot in front of the other and not fretting about what Juan intended to show me, or what might happen. Surely these people were experts who knew what they were doing. Professional criminals with experience. Had they ever killed anyone? This thought disturbed me. The last thing I wanted was to be complicit with murder.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?