Walter Wallace - Chapter 35

Whisky sat in the driver’s seat of the white van a short distance down the road from all the other vans that lined Station St outside of what was once Newport Haven Terminal. Chips was away from the van doing a recon on the crash zone for Boss. Not too far down the road Whisky could see Mark Tanenworth, who was initially supposed to be surveying the area. Boss, however, never trusted his brother and had decided to use Chips and Whisky – who were in the town keeping tabs on Walter Wallace – to investigate.

“What about the mark?” Whisky had asked Boss after receiving his instructions.

“I told you, Mark is useless- you mean Walter. Look, don’t call him the mark anymore. Just call him- OK. FUCK! Look, the trains are more important than Walter for this one moment. Sure good ole’ Walt is a goldmine but he isn’t bigger than CitaRail. Find out what’s happened because we are going to need a statement on this soon and I don’t have time for your FUCKING OPINION!”

Whisky had thought to disagree. Walter was bigger than the trains; possibly bigger than Citadel itself. He didn’t know how he knew but he knew. It filled him with a great deal of confusion. Despite everything that he felt programmed to do - everything that Chips would do in a heartbeat and that he would have done in half a heartbeat only a few weeks ago - he resisted his duty. His growing ideals of insubordination should have been reported to Boss by now, he still felt a natural inclination to do so, but his resistance continued.


As this inner war was waged he noticed a short, stout man approach Mark. This raised a whole new call of duty. Stevie, the police officer from that fateful night he was picked up for kidnapping Walter Wallace, embraced Mark in a friendly hug. The two were clearly not meeting for the first time. What was Mark thinking? Did he know this man was a police officer? Surely Mark wasn’t that stupid. He was loyal to Citadel Inc. But then why?

Whisky reached for his mobile. He had it opened to Boss’s number and was poised to dial, but before he could consciously acknowledge any emotion he found he had stopped himself. No logic or reason came to him; it was as though his newly discovered instinct was warning him. He looked back at the pair and they parted ways cheerfully. He checked to see if he could locate Chips but his partner was apparently deep into his investigation. If Chips recognised the two together he would report to Boss and would know for a fact that Whisky had witnessed it. And Whisky knew that the only thing less desirable right now than reporting his faltering loyalty was to have someone else report it. But then Chips was busy and the two had only been together a short time. What’s more was that Chips may not even recognise the officer at a glance, having only seen him for a brief exchange at the park.

Whisky noticed himself swallow forcibly. It was different to his usual sensory awareness which allowed him to stay completely alert and reactive. He felt clouded for the first time in his memory. He was unsure what to do, what motivation to follow. He stalled in his decision making, again scanning for signs of Chips and while doing so he noticed another familiar face. The poorly kempt youth from the jail cell that very same night was strolling in and out of different camps of reporters, apparently unwelcome judging by the reporters’ reactions.

Seeing first the police officer and then the boy reminded Whisky of the jail cell. He had stayed quiet because even back then he had recognised him from a previous incident. His face had shown up on security cameras within Citadel Towers. He was the boy that Chips had chased down a hall before losing him. Whisky had kept quiet in the cell, afraid of letting the volatile youth reveal to Walter that the would be kidnappers were actually agents from within Citadel Inc.

Suddenly everything had become so intricate and complicated. Whisky had never let himself see the bigger picture before but as he saw the aftermath of the Newport train disaster he realised that everything came back to one person. Against all protocol and going concern Whisky decided then and there with renewed clarity that this one person was where he ought to be offering his services. He hopped out of the van and ran at a brisk pace towards Haven Hospital. He was going to see Walter Wallace.