Lethal Information

George McMullen wiped the sweat from his forehead as nervousness soaked in. He was sitting in the lobby of the five-star Wilton Hotel in Los Angeles, mentally going over a speech he was due to give in a board meeting within minutes.

The speech would end his employment, no doubt. As Vice President of Financial Affairs he had discovered evidence of fraud and tax evasion from the Hotel owner, Seth Wilton. He had known about it for months but never possessed the courage to confront his boss.

Glancing at his watch and realizing it was nearly time for the meeting, George stood up and was startled by the woman approaching him.

“Marie-”

“I can’t talk much now George. Take this.” She said, handing him a small box. He glanced at it, interested by what it said. Top Secret.

“What’s this?”

“George, it is very important that you do not go to that meeting. Get to your car and get out of here while you listen to what is inside. I can’t tell you now, you never know when he’s watching.”

Without glancing back, she hurried past him and exited the lobby. He debated for a few seconds on what to do. He had worked with Marie for years before his current job and he trusted her with his life. If she’s that serious about this, he thought, then she must know something I don’t.

Making up his mind, he turned and walked out the lobby doors.

His BMW beeped inside the parking garage as he unlocked it and sat inside. He took out a pocket knife, cut the seal to the box, and pulled out the small tape player that lay inside. Curious, he pressed play, eager to see what it contained. It was Marie’s voice.

George, Seth Wilton is after you. He knows of your discovery of his illegal activities and he has plans to kill you. He has been watching your home as well as tracing your phone calls. Get out. Get out now. Do not go to your home, just drive far away from here. Take care my friend.

Dread swelled inside him as he placed his key in the ignition and turned it back and forth. Dead. He cautiously opened his door and got out. He looked around and ducked just in time as a shower of bullets shattered his windows.

He sprinted through the open-roofed parking garage, weaving in and out of cars. Eying the spiraling ramp that led to the next floor, he ran for it with all his might as automatic gunfire erupted behind him. He turned the corner and raced up the incline, gravity and fatigue slowing him down every second. I’m not gonna make it.

Just then instant pain flooded from George’s leg and blood soaked trough his pants. He fell to the concrete and rolled down the incline, landing softly on his back and staring into the eyes of his attacker.

A masked man stood over him, clutching an automatic firearm and talking into an earpiece.

“Sir, I’ve got him…alive.”

“Who are you?” George demanded. “Why are you-”

“Quiet.” He said harshly, “Don’t move.” He pointed the gun directly at George. After what seemed like hours, a door opened and footsteps were heard. George looked up and rage flowed through his veins.

“Seth.” He said though clenched teeth.

“Very good Sherlock. I must congratulate you on outstanding detective work. I thought I would never be caught and always hoped that if I was, my loyal employees would stand by me. So far, you’re the only one who hasn’t.”

“I’m not in support of crooks.” He spat out.

“Then you will die for that.” Wilton said as grabbed the automatic rifle from the masked hit man.

“You won’t walk free after killing me. There are cameras here you know.”

A wolfish smile crept across Wilton’s face. “But George, you should know, this is my hotel. I control everything from the continental breakfast to the security cameras.” He laughed devilishly as he cocked the weapon. “Good-bye George.”

He closed his eyes and waited for the impact. Suddenly he felt a rumble as a deafening noise filled the garage.

“Drop your weapon.” A voice rang out through a loud speaker. George looked to see a helicopter a few stories above him. Police sirens wailed and he saw red and blue lights. The helicopter’s loud speaker continued to give orders, Wilton complying with every one. Officers rushed over and instantly cuffed him and the gunman, then loaded them into the backseat of separate squad cars.

An officer crouched over George.

“You alright buddy?”

“My leg…”

“We’ll get you medical attention.”

Through his pain, George caught eyes with Marie standing next to a squad car. She winked at him and he returned with a smile before he laid his head back, knowing he was safe.

Word Count: 810