“Red Hat,” said Margaret.
“Yes, red hat.”
Margaret left the door open, and Cheevers felt free enough to walk in and close it behind him. He felt strange and looked around nervously, unsure of what to do next.
“Margaret,” he started. “… the story you told me the other day. I don’t know why, but I can’t get it out of my mind. Red Hat. He’s an interesting character, and, as you know, I always wear a red cap. I wasn’t really doing anything this afternoon and thought that …”
His voice trailed off, and she motioned for him to sit down. She was feeling remarkably comfortable around people these days. It was a strange sensation. He sat on the familiar fabric couch, which was amazingly clear of any pill balls. He rubbed his hands nervously along the couch’s arm, and for some reason, he felt like he was sitting in front of a fortune teller, in a gypsy’s trailer, anxious to hear his future. He also felt that he was being completely ridiculous.
Margaret leaned back in her chair, happy to oblige the man curiously searching for answers. Stories that she had been telling for years were finally getting an audience, and for that, she felt satisfied, if not a little nervous. But the nervousness came naturally for her. She felt a gentle prodding that lifted her spirit and stood face to face with her muse.
“Red Hat,” Margaret started.
* * *
“… knew that they would follow him with every piece of technology known to man—and a few other pieces only known to the secretive aspects of the American government. But for him, it didn’t matter at all. He sat in the bullet-proof car with his deterrent device at his side. He pulled out his cell phone and punched out speed dial number one. Montleone.
“‘Yeah,’ answered the smooth Italian voice that was completely unmistakable.
“‘I have it,’ said Red Hat.
“‘We had almost given up on you.’
“‘I know. I was slowed down by a flower pot. Don’t ask.’
“‘You know you are on the news, right?’
“‘Sure, I know. It adds to the excitement.’
“‘You’ve created quite the mess.’
“‘Yeah, I know. But I have everything we need. Will it really matter?’
“‘No, I suppose it won’t,’ said Montleone in a confident voice. ‘So are you coming here?’
“‘Not yet. I have one more place to go.’
“‘Where?’
“‘I need to go home.’
“‘Are you crazy?’
“‘Perhaps. But this is the last time. I must.’
“‘What if they try and take you out?’
“‘They won’t. I’ll be in touch soon.’
“‘All right.’
“Montleone hung up abruptly as Red Hat navigated the near-empty beltway, which had been helpfully cleared by Agent Williams and crew. Williams rode in a car only a few lengths behind Red Hat. Two choppers swirled overhead, as did a squadron of jets, which had been recently scrambled just in case.
“Red Hat exited the beltway and was now no more than three blocks from his house. Williams kept up the pace and was constantly talking with his eyes in the sky, interested to see if they were able to pick up anything out of the ordinary—any method of interception which they could take advantage of. They were not. Williams remained in the dark concerning the intentions and eventual plans of the one man who simply wore a red hat.
“He turned onto Birch and then Hollister until he pulled up outside the familiar café where he often had breakfast. About six hours before, he had been eating his eggs there with Montleone. He glanced up once at the third floor apartment window which was now empty. He didn’t feel sad, just resigned to his fate. Williams parked a half block away. Red Hat could see two police cars converging at the intersection up the street. He smiled. Williams was phoning in instructions, ordering dozens of units to spread out all over a three block radius. Williams deployed a half-dozen snipers to various lookout positions around the perimeter. Red Hat slowly got out of the car, carrying his leverage in a precarious position just to remind them that they were one short drop away from disaster.
“‘Have you gotten a good look at that device yet? Do we know what we are dealing with? Is there any way that he’s bluffing?’
“The forensics lab at the anti-terrorist unit had identified the item as a possible dirty bomb of Russian make. Asked about the flask on the device, they replied that perhaps it was as the man in the red hat said, but perhaps it wasn’t. Williams marveled at their helpfulness as Red Hat confidently walked across the street, into the apartment building, and up two flights of stairs to unit 3C. He pulled out his house key, inserted it, and entered.
“‘Daddy, Daddy.’ Meagan, his precious little daughter came plodding over to him and jumped up into his arms. His heart nearly stopped as he juggled the device in his hand, hoping not to end it all right there.”
* * *
Margaret stopped for a moment and looked over at Cheevers.
“Meagan,” he whispered with tears in his eyes.
Margaret knew how he must feel.
* * *
“‘Daddy. Where have you been?’
“‘Careful now, sweetheart. This is an important device Daddy has been working on. So I’m going to set it down here. Promise me you won’t touch it. Promise.’
“‘I promise, Daddy.’
“‘That’s my girl.’
“At that moment, he saw his wife in the bedroom doorway, looking bitterly back at him. He didn’t care. He didn’t love her anymore.
“‘Michael,’ she said sternly. ‘I need to talk to you right now.’
“‘Sweetheart,’ he turned to Meagan. ‘Go play in your room a little bit. I’ll see you in a minute.’
“‘Okay, Daddy. You aren’t going away again, are you?’
“‘No, no, sweetheart. Don’t worry. Go play now.’
“Meagan bounded off, carefree and happy, and Red Hat looked up at his wife.
“‘What’s to talk about?’”
* * *
“Stop it!” yelled Cheevers. “Why are you doing this? What the hell are you doing?”
He stood up and looked at Margaret, who didn’t flinch. Cheevers panted heavily.
“How did you know I had a daughter named Meagan? Talk to me!” he yelled. “What are you trying to do?”
Margaret kept her head back and her eyes closed. It was either her way, or no way at all.
He fumed for a moment. The pain was unbearable, but he couldn’t walk out the door. He couldn’t leave. He had to stay and hear the story, but he hated Margaret for it. Finally, he collapsed back onto the couch, resigned to his destiny of torture by the recluse storyteller.
“I’m sorry.”
Cheevers composed himself, put his head down on his knees, and took a deep breath. He hadn’t felt like this in years. It was a brutal awakening, realizing that he had this much humanity left inside of him. He thought he was over life.
“Please continue, Margaret. I want to hear more.”
Without a second’s delay, she started again.
* * *
“‘What’s going on?’ Red Hat’s wife grabbed him by the arm. ‘You were on the news. There are people chasing after you. I want some answers.’
“‘Your answers will come soon enough.’
“He walked past her and into their bedroom.
“‘Michael. Stop this right now. Talk to me!’
“He turned quickly and saw her looking at the device sitting on the table.
“‘Ah, ah, ah,” he came back into the room. ‘Unless you want to destroy the whole block, I would suggest you leave that alone.’
“‘Who the hell are you?’
“Her eyes glared, a deep, desperate look at her stone wall of a husband. Nothing could penetrate Red Hat’s demeanor. He really felt nothing for her, but Meagan was different. Suddenly, his wife backed away from him and fear ripped through her chest as she realized that she was married to a ghost—an apparition that really didn’t exist in this world. She feared for her life and for Meagan’s. Her heart sank in despair.
“‘I hope they catch you, whoever you are. Terrorist? Drug dealer? How could you have done this to us? Do you hear the helicopters overhead? The building is surrounded. What are you doing? Whatever it is, it’s over.’
“‘No, it’s just beginning.’
“He immediately pointed over at the door. Knock—knock—knock.
“‘Hello, Mrs. Parsons. This is Agent Williams. Is your husband at home?’
“Red Hat looked over at his wife and motioned for her to answer the door. She slowly swung the door open, and Williams looked over at Red Hat, who now had a pistol aimed right at both of them.
“‘Mr. Parsons. I’m unarmed. I’m just here to help and talk this through.’
“‘In that case, come on in and have a seat. It’s about to get interesting,’ said Red Hat.
“His wife had the look of a woman who was bereft of feeling, having lost everything she had ever known.
“‘Sit down over there,’ he pointed at a black leather sofa, which had several stuffed animals that Meagan had sat down for a pleasant afternoon tea. They shifted the animals to the side and slowly descended into a submissive posture.
“‘Michael—’ started Williams but was immediately cut off.
“‘Don’t call me Michael,’ he replied angrily. ‘That’s what she calls me.’
“‘All right. What can I call you?’
“‘Red Hat.’
“‘Red Hat?’
“‘Yes, you see this cloth cap on my head? It’s red.’
“‘Okay, Red Hat it is.’
“‘Michael, who are you?’ asked his wife, eyes deep with anxiety, worried that little Meagan would come out of the room.
“‘Red Hat, we need to know what you want. What do you plan on doing with that device? You don’t want to hurt innocent people, do you?’
“‘There is no reason why innocent people should die. Just follow our instructions.’
“‘We’ve done everything you asked so far. You said “our” instructions. Who else does this involve?’
“‘You’ll see.’
“At that moment, Meagan, carrying a large brown stuffed bear, bounced out of the side bedroom and saw her daddy holding a gun and her mother crying on the couch next to a stranger.
“‘Daddy, who’s that man? Daddy, why do you have a gun?’
“‘Meagan, go back in your room,’ shouted her desperate mother, pleading with mercy in her eyes towards the husband she never knew.
“‘It’s okay, sweetheart. Daddy just has a little business to take care of. This is Agent Williams. He came to make sure you’re safe.’
“‘Hello,’ she said daintily in a voice that seemed unsure of itself.
“‘Hello, Meagan. Is that your bedroom in there?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘Why don’t you go back in and play?’
“‘I want to be with my mommy,’ she stated, running straight over to Red Hat’s wife and jumping into her lap.
“‘Meagan, darling. Please listen to Mommy,’ she rocked her precious child back and forth.
“‘I’m scared Mommy. Why does Daddy have a gun?’
“‘Don’t worry, sweetheart,’ reassured Red Hat. ‘This will all be over soon.’
“‘So, Red Hat. What do we do now?’
“‘It’s simple. You are going to stand up and walk backwards right into that bedroom. Now. Come on. Up!’
“Williams stood up immediately as Red Hat became more agitated with the gun. Meagan hung dearly around her mother’s neck, and his wife cried, burying her head right in Meagan’s stomach.
“‘Okay. There’s no need to get aggressive here. I’m going to do what you say,’ Williams retorted as he backed into the main bedroom just like Red Hat instructed.
“‘It’s funny how people are always open to taking orders when they have a gun pointed at them,’ Michael looked back his wife as he advanced upon Williams, pushing him into the bedroom. ‘Darling, just a reminder. You definitely don’t want to touch that device on the kitchen table.’
“Williams kept talking.
“‘Just tell us what you want. We want to help you. We have a lot of resources at our disposal to help you through this.’
“‘Kneel down!’ Red Hat ordered. ‘Face the window and clasp your hands together behind your head.’
“Williams consented. It didn’t feel right to him. He couldn’t believe it would end this way.
“‘Don’t move.’
“‘Red Hat. We can work with you here.’
“‘You will work with us. Of that I have no doubt. Don’t turn around.’
“Williams kept kneeling. Red Hat quickly scooted over to the bedroom closet and reached up and under a low shelf about three feet off the ground. He inserted the key from the safety deposit box into a small key hole and swung open a trap metal door hidden out of sight, up and under the shelving unit. He reached in and pulled out an envelope, slowing bringing it to his face as if to smell its essence. He stashed it in his pocket and patted it gently.
“‘Ready, Williams? Ready?’
“‘You don’t have to do this.’
“Red Hat slammed shut the door with the force of a swift gale. Williams’ body shook violently until he realized that it wasn’t a gun shot. Red Hat took out a skeleton key and locked the bedroom door behind him. Williams immediately stood up and got on his phone, informing the police perimeter of the situation.