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Ben wished that Mr. Harris didn’t have to check everything out for himself. Looking out from the window of the limousine, he felt vaguely embarrassed by the small crowd of protestors that were waving their signs outside of the old hotel. Not that he had anything to do with them, of course, but this small disturbance of Mr. Harris’ plans bothered Ben. It was his job to see that everything went smoothly.
Edward Harris shifted his position on the seat as the limo slowed down to pass the hotel. His emaculate charcoal grey pants creased along precisely tailored lines as he adjusted his weight.
“Seems to be a bit of trouble,” said Harris.
“Yes sir,” said Benjamin Arnes. He looked out the window at the protestors. There were only six or seven of them waving their brightly coloured signs at the car as it went past, and they seemed to be keeping to the sidewalk and away from the yellow construction tape that cordoned off the area around the old building. Their signs read things like “Save the Regency!” and “Don’t Destroy Our Past!” Apparently they were historical preservationists.
“I hope this doesn’t delay things any further,” said Harris.
“No, sir.” Said Ben. Outside the protestors were chanting something, but the thick window glass muffled their words.
“It was hard enough getting a permit from City Council to blow down this pile of rock,” Harris said. “Now that’s done I want the Regency demolished and my new condominium built – on time.”
“Yes sir.”
“Lord knows I’ve spent enough on this project. If one of those - ” He waved his fingers at the window. “ - People should happen to cause another delay… “
“Let me take care of it, Sir.”
“How’s that?”
“Tomorrow morning I’ll drop by here and see that the demolition goes smoothly.”
“Fine,” Harris said. “You see to it. Now tell me what I need to know about the three o’clock meeting…”
The next day Ed drove to the Regency early in the morning, so he could get there well ahead of any protestors.
As he rolled into the temporary parking lot, Ben could see that he’d got there ahead of the demolition crew as well. The explosives shack was locked up and the staging area seemed to be empty.
Ben got out of his car and took a walk around the building. The once lushly green lawn had been churned up by men and equipment into a brown muddy mass, and Ben had to watch his step. No one seemed to be around, and that was fine. But something bothered Ben. He wasn’t sure what it was, but as he walked back to the parking lot it came to him.
There was another car in the lot. A purple Toyota that belonged to the site’s security guard. But the guard was nowhere to be seen.
Several possibilities occurred to Ben, and he felt slightly queasy. Then he shook his head and tried not to worry. The guard was just a temporary minimum wage employee, who was probably just dozing off in the building. Ben would have to go inside to check. But the Regency was a dusty old place, so he’d better take off his jacket. Muttering a complaint to himself, Ben took off his coat, neatly folded it, and put it in his car. He entered the old hotel through the gaping doorway where the front door used to be.
Inside, the regency was just as dim and dusty as he imagined it would be. The reception room was as empty as the inside of an old skull with a dusty floor marked up by the footprints of the demolition crew.
“Halloo!” He called. His voice sounded odd in the barren room. “Hey guard, this is Ben Arnes!”
There was a sound of scuffling. A light under a closed door went out, so dim that he hadn’t noticed it in the wan light coming through the entranceway. That must be where the guard had gone.
Opening the door, he saw a staircase that went down to the basement. He really didn’t want to go down there, but duty called.
Sighing, he started down the stairs. The place was dark, but a window set high up on one wall provided enough light for him to find his way down the stairs. “Hello,” he called out. “I’m coming down.”
A light snapped on. Ben blinked in the sudden brightness. A man darted out from under the stairwell and grabbed his arms. The man's momentum smashed Ben’s back against the wall and knocked the breath out of him. Another man and a woman came out from under the stairs. The woman carried a large flashlight that had provided the light that startled him. She shone it in his face.
“Hello,” she said. “We’re the good guys.”
Ben wheezed for breath and his eyes were full of tears. As he blinked his eyes clear he realized that the man holding him against the wall was wearing a uniform.
“You’re. The. guard.” He managed to croak.
“What should I do with this loser?”
“You’ve got cuffs, right?” Said the woman. “Clip him to that pipe over there.” She pointed with her flashlight.
“Yeah,” said the other man, who had been silent until now. “Let’s give him a chance to help us out.”
As the guard dragged him across the floor, Ben managed to swallow and say, “I work for…” He wet his lips. “The owner of this building. You’d better let me go.”
“Sure,” said the woman as the guard jerked up one of Ben’s arms. The guard took out a pair of handcuffs and snapped one loop around Ben’s wrist. Then he attached the other loop to a water pipe that ran at waist height along the wall. “Sam will let you out when the cops get here. Right, Sam?”
“Um. I don’t have any keys,” the guard said.
“What?”
“They didn’t give me any keys.”
The woman glared at him. Then she shrugged and said, “Well then. The police will have to let you out with the rest of us, Mr. Arnes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s simple. We’re going to save the Regency by rousing public opinion against your boss.”
“People just don’t know what’s happening,” said the other man. “They only understand what the media feeds them. Blood and circuses, you know.”
“We’ve got to get this story out,” the woman said. She played her flashlight around the room, and Ben saw that there were piles of chain and heavy padlocks at the bases of several of the heavy timbers that supported the ceiling. She looked at her watch. “We better get started. The demolition is at ten.”
As she walked off, Ben realized what she meant. His stomach contracted into a knot. “You’re going to chain yourself to the building.”
“You got it,” said the guard. He walked over to a pillar a few feet away, then picked up one end of a pile of chain. He wound it around himself, then passed it hand over hand around the back of the pillar. Then he slid the loop up his body and started another one. A few loops exhausted the chain. Then he slipped his arms free, pulled out the slack, and padlocked it shut. The others did the same.
Ben watched this process with wide, disbelieving eyes. Then he said, “But you’ll be blown up with the building! Let’s be sensible here!”
From over by the windows the woman laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. Arnes. We’re not suicidal. Sam is going to call Channel Three News and tell them all about us.”
“Sure thing,” said the guard. He unclipped a radio from his belt.
Ben couldn’t believe this. Somehow his morning had dissolved from neat and orderly into a nightmare. When Mr. Harris heard about this, Ben could kiss his job goodbye. It wasn’t fair! He’d worked hard.
He had one chance. Suddenly, without stopping to think, Ben lunged forward as hard as he could. The handcuff bit into his wrist cruelly, but the water pipe screeched and pulled half out of the wall, giving him the few inches he needed.
He kicked out a brown patent leather shoe and knocked the radio from Sam’s hand. The guard yelled with surprise. The radio hit the floor and slid into dimness.
Now all Ben had to do was use his own cell phone to call the security company. They’d come and take care of this quietly. If they were quick enough, Mr. Harris might not even find out.
Ben reached for his phone and grasped air where his inside pocket should be. Then he remembered: the phone was in his coat, and his coat was in the car.
“What happened?” Yelled the woman. “What’s going on?”
The guard yelled back at her. Then all three of them yelled at Ben. He hardly heard them, as he was blaming himself.
Stupid! He thought. If they were all killed, Mr. Harris’ condominium would never get built.
“You’ve killed us!” Shouted the woman.
Then another sound came through the window, and they all quieted down to hear it: voices, coming closer.
“It’s the demolition crew!” Shouted the second man. “They’re going to wreck the place!”
All three of them started shouting again, and this time Ben joined them. They called out for help, as loud as they could. Then the woman called for quiet and they listened.
The voices were receding. They hadn’t heard.
“This is all your fault!” Said the guard, Sam. He pulled out his revolver and pointed it at Ben.
“My fault? I didn’t chain you up in here. You did that yourself!”
“You’re a lackey of the capitalist forces that enslave us all!” Said the second man.
“That’s enough, Liam,” said the woman. ”Put it away, Sam.” She looked at her watch. “We’ve only got about two minutes to get out of here. Let’s think.”
“Maybe if we all stomp our feet together,” said Sam.
“Not enough noise. Those guys we heard must have walked away by now.”
Noise, thought Ben as he bleakly watched them talk. That was the last thing he wanted. Mr. Harris would never…
“Yes!” He said. “Sam, shoot your gun through the window! That’ll get their attention.”
“But I can’t reach the window from here.”
Ben thought for a minute. When you couldn’t get someone to agree to a deal, you changed the deal to fit them. “All right, if you can’t do it alone, then we’ll do it together. Toss your gun to Liam. Then Liam tosses it to…”
“Sheri.”
“And Sheri will fire it through the window.”
Sam looked doubtful. “I don’t know…”
“Let’s do it,” said Sheri.
Sam frowned, but he drew the pistol. He checked its safety, then slid around the post and faced Liam. “Ready?”
“Sure,” quavered Liam.
“Just remember to let it fall in your hands. Don’t grab,” said Ben.
The gun sailed the air in an underhand lob, right into Liam’s hands. He fumbled it and stopped Ben’s heart. But then he caught it again by the barrel, and managed to toss it to Sheri.
She fired all five shots into the glass. The reports were startlingly loud in the confined space of the basement. Startled yells came in through the broken window.
Later, after firemen had cut them loose and all the confusion had died down, Ben sat in the seat of his car and tried to think about what to do next. A policeman stood next to the open door and wrote down the last details of his story.
“Are you going to lay charges?”
Ben looked past the policeman at the flashing lights of a patrol car, where his three captors sat slumped in back, chained once again. Then he looked at the grey bulk of the Regency, which was still standing, despite his best intentions.
“We’ve got them for trespassing and reckless endangerment, at least.”
What would this do to his career? It sure would be nice to have some scapegoats.
But no. He didn’t believe in their cause, but he could hardly think of those three as faceless protestors. Not any more.
He sighed. “The corporation isn’t going to lay any charges. Please let them go, officer.”
Then he closed his car door on the surprised policeman and started to hunt through his coat for the phone. Mr. Harris would have to be informed.
This post has been edited by Kevin Street: 21 May 2004 - 11:29 PM
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