Read Online Formerly Fingerman by Joe Nelms - Free Book Online Page B

I think things are finally looking up for me.”
    The scuff mark was a stubborn one and not coming off easily, but Brad wasn’t about to give up. He had been patient, paid some humiliating dues, and kept his secret shame from his wife long enough for everything to work out perfectly. He would be damned if half a square inch of dirt was going to taint this brilliant canvas of a life he had just put the finishing touches on. He was on his way back to the top of the heap. Back to the official New York of Brad Fingerman. His new job now merely a matter of administrative formality that would trigger positive reactive measures across the rest of his existence. Money. Esteem. Confidence. Potence. He might even tell Champ to go fuck himself. Not really, but it felt good to imagine saying stuff like that.
    In fact, if the scuff mark had come off easily, Brad would have stood up, turned around, and seen Carmine’s eyes go wide like saucers at what was waiting outside the elevator. Brad would have seen a look of recognition in those saucers. And then he would have seen a wash of realization in them. A look that said something unavoidable and terrible was about to happen. But Brad was busy with his scuff mark, so instead he only heard the last two words of Carmine’s life.
    â€œ. . . Holy crap.”
    Not understanding the true sentiment behind the statement, Brad naturally assumed it was about his amazing tale of good fortune, that he had cracked his elevator buddy’s cold veneer. “I know. It’s great, right? It’s like my friend Owen told me, if you keep a positive outlook . . .”
    FUMP-FUMP-FUMP-FUMP-FUMP. The silenced gun above Brad’s head fired five shots directly into Carmine’s heart.
    â€œ. . . sometimes you get lucky.”
    The black shoes moved away as Brad finally cleared enough dirt off his shoe leather to be deemed acceptable for his victory walk home. He stood up to continue the conversation with his new friend. Instead he found that Carmine looked decidedly worse now than he did for the first ten floors of their ride.
    â€œHey, are you okay?”
    Carmine continued staring ahead as he slid down the back wall of the elevator, streaking blood behind him. Down the hall, footsteps faded away as a stairwell door slammed shut.
    â€œ. . . Whoa.”
    The elevator doors began to close when a herd of footsteps swarmed the hallway and a firm hand stopped the elevator.
    â€œFREEZE! FBI!”
    Brittany and three other agents stood ready to pounce just outside the elevator, guns drawn. It took about 0.8 seconds for Brittany to understand what had happened.
    She had failed.
    They were too late. Carmine was dead and Frank was gone. There was no video or audio of the crime. Her father might have referred to her situation as FUBAR.
    Brad finally broke the tense silence.
    â€œ. . . What the fuck?”
    It was an innocent enough question and perfectly justifiable considering Brad had not been privy to Plans A, B, or C. But innocent or not, it sparked a reaction in Brittany that even she didn’t expect. They hadn’t seen Frank on their way up. And she needed to bring someone in, even if it meant thinking up a different name for the mission. Project Innocent Bystander, for example.
    She grabbed Brad and slammed him against the elevator wall.
    â€œYou’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law . . .”
    There was more, but it was all lost on Brad. He was reeling as he watched his luck go from a royal flush to snake eyes in the time it took to clean off his shoe.
    Tom had waited for the elevator for only a brief moment before deciding to take matters into his own hands. Brittany had said all units go, after all. They might call him a maverick, but he wasn’t waiting for any stinking elevator. He ran to the stairwell on the south side of the hallway and headed down two and three stairs