TOTAL CONTROL By: David Baldacci

details.”

She playfully poked him as she went through the green light.

“Very, very soon, Sid. I promise. But not now, okay?” His tone had

suddenly become more serious, as though he regretted bringing up the

subject. She looked over at him. He was staring rigidly out the

window. A trace of concern came over her face. He turned back to her,

caught the look of worry, put a hand against her cheek and winked.

“When we got married, I promised you the world, didn’t I?”

“You’ve given me the world, Jason.” She stared at Amy in the rearview

mirror. “More than the world.”

He rubbed her shoulder. “I love you, Sid, more than anything.

You deserve the best. One day I’ll give it to you.”

She smiled at him; however, as he turned to look out the window the look

of concern returned to her features.

The man was bent over the computer, his face bare inches from the

screen. His fingers were pounding the keys so fiercely they resembled a

column of miniature jackhammers. The battered keyboard appeared ready

to disintegrate under the relentless attack.

Like pouring water, digital images flowed down the computer screen too

fast for the eye to follow. A weak light overhead provided illumination

for the man’s task. Thick droplets of sweat clustered on his face,

although the room temperature hovered at a comfortable seventy degrees.

He swiped at the moisture as the salty liquid slid behind his glasses

and stung his already painful, bloodshot eyes.

So intent was he on his work that he did not notice the door to the room

slowly open. Nor lid he hear the three pairs of legs as they made their

way in, moving across the thick carpet until they stood directly behind

him. Their movements were unhurried; the intruders’ superior numbers

apparently provided them with overwhelming confidence.

Finally the man at the computer turned around. His limbs started to

quake uncontrollably, as though he had foreseen what was about to happen

to him.

He would not even have time to scream.

As the triggers snapped back simultaneously and the firing pins rammed

home, the guns roared in deafening unison.

Jason Archer jerked upright in the chair where he had fallen asleep.

Real sweat clung to his face while the vision of violent death clung to

his mind. The damn dream, it just wouldn’t let go. He quickly looked

around. Sidney was dozing on the couch; the TV droned on in the

background. Jason rose and covered his wife with a blanket. Then he

went down to Amy’s room. It was almost mid night. As he peeked in the

door he could hear her tossing in her sleep. He went to the edge of her

bed and watched the tiny form as it moved restlessly around. She must

be having a bad dream, something her father could well relate to. Jason

gently rubbed his daughter’s forehead and then picked her up and held

her, slowly swaying from side to side in the quiet darkness. This

normally chased away the nightmares; and in a few minutes Amy was back

in a peaceful sleep. Jason covered her up and kissed her on the cheek.

Then he went to the kitchen, scribbled a note to his wife, put it on the

table next to the couch where Sidney continued to doze and headed to the

garage, where he climbed into his old Cougar convertible.

As he backed out of the garage, he did not notice Sidney at the front

window watching him, his note clutched in her hand. After his

taillights disappeared down the street, Sidney turned from the window

and read the note again. Her husband was heading back to the office to

do some work. He would be home when he could. She looked at the clock

on the fireplace mantel. It was nearly midnight.

She checked on Amy and then put a teakettle on the stove. She suddenly

slumped against the kitchen counter as a deeply buried suspicion

exploded to the surface. This wasn’t the first ‘time she had awoken to

find her husband backing his car out of the garage, leaving a note

behind telling her he had gone back to work.

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