In the not so distant future
Brent Waxman was pumped with adrenaline as he left the parking lot of Carrelson Labs with his prize. He made sure not to draw attention to himself as he exited the building with the rest of the employees, as the fire alarm was going off. Now tried not to speed, heading for his rendezvous with Jennifer. He couldn't believe how easy it had been to pull off this caper and soon he'd be set for life.
He had been struggling to make ends meet for the last two years after being fired from his job, at a large pharmaceutical company, for supposedly selling company secrets. 'I know it was that asshole Baker that set me up,' he thought, 'He was the only one with all the codes to the research files that I was accused of selling to our competitor.' Just the thought of his former boss made Brent's blood boil.
'How ironic that now I'm actually perpetrating industrial espionage and being well paid for it!' His life was in turmoil until he received that call from Mr. Clark who claimed he knew all about the incident at his former job and was in need of the services of a talented chemical engineer from time to time. With a wife, two kids, a mortgage, two car payments and all the other bills, Brent was desperate so he agreed to work for Clark. It became clear, however, that what Mr. Clark wanted him to do was not exactly legal but the money was good on that first job. Brent was hooked. Although he'd never met Clark in person, he was always compensated at the time agreed upon. All the out of town trips and late night phone calls made his wife Cindy suspicious of his 'new job' but with only her High School teacher's salary, they would be on the street in a few months once they'd gone through their other assets. So she went along with the strange hours and her husband's sudden absences to make sure their kids could go on to bigger and better things in life.
Brent coasted to a stop, at the red light, smugly smiling at himself in the rear view mirror. He removed the false mustache and grey wig, tossing them in a plastic bag. Peeling off the silicone fingerprints and other prosthetics, he added them to the bag. Jennifer gave him the idea to go in disguise on this job do to all the security cameras. She even suggested being a visiting researcher for the defense department so it would be easier to obtain access to the high security storage area and get what he came for. He tapped the cigar case in his breast pocket where his ill-gotten gains were hidden. Meeting Jennifer had changed his life in so many ways.
Jennifer Tomms is an executive secretary at Carrelson Labs and had come across a notebook of a former employee that mentioned some 'secret projects' Carrelson was doing for the government. It was just luck that Brent walked into the bar she was visiting with a couple of her coworkers. The moment he saw her, he was enthralled. The 26 year old blonde haired beauty took his breath away. She stood 5'-8" with curves that just didn't quit. Her double D chest drew him right in. He had the bartender freshen her drink on him so he could work his magic on her. Although Brent was more than twice her age at 55, he took good care of himself. His dark hair only had a hint of grey at the temples, his lean build on a 5'-10" frame and piercing blue eyes made for an irresistible combination for many women, Jennifer was no exception.
It didn't take long before the two left together and wound up at her apartment. They fucked like bunnies until the wee hours of the morning. They saw each other regularly after that, carrying on a torrid affair. Brent had grown tired of Cindy's constant nagging to get a more stable job and having a twenty something hottie with an insatiable sex drive didn't help keep him from wondering. His wife was still a curvaceous beauty at 5'-6" with long chestnut hair and green eyes; she got plenty of attention when they were married and for many years after. But time was taking its toll. Her 34C breast now sags significantly, her once flat stomach showed the signs of two kids and a relatively sedentary life. Even her radiant red hair was shot through with more silver these days. Then there was the sex...or lack thereof. He figured he still loved her but wasn't in love with her anymore.
His kids were quite a pair too and he actually hated the idea of leaving them but he'd get over it in time, or so he convinced himself. Danielle was his oldest at 20. She took after her mother in build although shorter in height. Her reddish brown hair was an even mix between both parents but her shockingly blue eyes came from dad. Brent admired her drive and enthusiasm for learning. She was in her second year of college, working on an engineering degree in structural mechanics. 'She's going to go far,' he thought. David, on the other hand, was a serious disappointment in his eyes. A senior year of High School, he has no prospects for college. 'He wants to be a video game designer or some such foolishness...what a waste,' Brent grumbled.
Brent's cheap disposable phone buzzed in his pocket, it was Jennifer calling. He'd been using a 'burner phone' at the insistence of Clark to help insulate their contact even further. It also came in handy when he met Jennifer, keeping his personal phone free of her salacious emails, texts, and pictures. Leaving his personal phone at home also helped prevent unwanted tracking of his whereabouts by his undoubtedly suspicious spouse. Besides, he could always get another once he got where he was going.
"Hey baby," he said cheerfully.
"Is everything going alright?" He could hear the concern in her voice.
"Like clockwork, why?"
"One of my girlfriends called and said there was a fire at work."
"No fire," he chuckled, "Just a little distraction to help me get outta there."
"Oh thank God...I thought that something went wrong and you'd been caught..."
"Hey, everything's fine. Just relax," he said in a soothing tone.
"Where are you now?"
"I'm on my way to return this piece-of-shit rental and get my car. I should be there in less than an hour."
"I'll be waiting for you," her voice now low and sultry. He envisioned her naked on the bed with her legs spread, ready for him to fuck her good.
At the next intersection, Brent turned into a gas station and drove around behind it. He got out and buried the plastic bag containing his disguise in a dumpster then returned to the street he had been on before the detour. All he could think of now was meeting up with Jennifer at the motel and fucking her brains out until the next morning when he'd make the drop according to Clark's instructions. Then it would be a couple hours before he got the location to pick up his money: ten million dollars. The majority of which would be deposited in a Cayman Island account while the balance ($250,000) he'd collect before he and Jennifer left for Rio De Janeiro to disappear. The light turned green and Brent accelerated into the intersection.
The impact of the speeding pick-up sent his compact sedan tumbling across the intersection before a stubborn light pole stopped its momentum. Brent never saw the truck coming as the intoxicated driver rushed to make it through the signal. Fortunately, for Brent, the truck hit the passenger side of the car or he'd be dead. His injuries were many including a concussion that left him unconscious. He was rushed to the hospital never regaining consciousness.
***
Cindy Waxman stood beside the hospital bed, looking down at her husband. Seeing all the tubes and wires going to various machines and life support apparatus left her with a diverse mix of emotions ranging from fear and concern to anger and rage all wrapped up in confusion. The attending doctor said Brent was in a coma and his chances of coming out of it were about 50/50.
"Mrs. Waxman?" a voice behind her called.
"Yes," Cindy turned to see a tall man in a blue suit standing at the door. He was about six feet tall with close cut graying hair, a thin mustache, and hazel eyes. He looked tired as he entered the room with a small tablet in hand.
"I'm Detective Allen Frons from the LAPD. I'd like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind?" the officer politely inquired.
"Sure," she replied, almost relieved to talk to somebody about what happened to her husband.
He showed his credentials and handed her his card then led her to a quiet alcove down the hall from her husband's room.
"I was following up on the missing person's report you made two days ago on your husband," he said tapping on the screen of his tablet, "Has he ever just took off without telling you where he was going in the past?"
"No. He does have to make sudden trips for work from time to time but he always tells me when he's leaving and when he'll be back."
