That Pesky Bus Driver

Mike Gulf didn’t have much time to make his new condo feel like home. Bill, his old army buddy and new boss, was familiar with Mike’s many talents as a detective from the days they had worked together as Army CID investigators. Back then Mike was his boss. Mike’s new living quarters were in such disarray because Bill had assigned him to an undercover job as soon as he got back from London.

The mission was to disrupt a gun running operation that involved army general Radcliff and U.S Senator Smithson along with the Senator’s son, Bubba. Coincidently, these were the same people that had Mike removed from the army for refusing to stop investigating them. The general had been forced to retire, the Senator was executed by the Council of Continents, and Bubba is now serving a lengthy sentence in federal prison. Maybe there was something to the old saying, what goes around comes around. At least it seemed to work that way this time.

Mike finally returned to his new home in Annapolis and had time to unpack the majority of boxes he brought with him from his destroyed New Jersy house. He was used to settling into new locations because that’s what you do when the army is your career. Annapolis felt different from most of the other places he had lived. He bought the place in North Bergan, N.J. because it was conveniently close to his job at the bus company, but that was the only reason. Mike felt no emotional loss when the local syndicate torched it. Watching New Jersy disappear in his rear-view mirror felt rather good.

Mike’s new city had a welcome home feel to it. Most of the downtown buildings were constructed of red brick and built between the late seventeen to mid eighteen hundreds. Main Street, Prince George Street and several other main downtown thoroughfares ended at Annapolis Harbor, or Ego Ally which is what the locals called it. The harbor got that name because owners of large yachts pulled into the downtown channel to turn their boats around, giving everyone a full view of their pricy craft before heading out into Chesapeake Harbor. If you’ve got it, flaunt it, as they say. Yes, except for the overcrowding that many cities were experiencing, it would be easy for Mike to call this city home, at least for the near future. Of course, he had learned long ago that nothing lasts forever, especially the good stuff.

It was time to take a break from unpacking. Mike had made decent progress finding a location for most of his stuff. At least now he could make it from the kitchen to the bedroom without having to walk around multiple boxes. He would do some grocery shopping in a day or so depending on whether Bill was keeping him local for a few days or not but for now it was time to head to the local Subway for a sandwich.

On the way out he spotted the mail man leaving so he decided to check his box. Having just moved in, he doubted there would be anything except from the house insurance company trying to gyp him out of some settlement money and the obligatory junk mail. Instead, he found a handwritten envelope with an unrecognizable post mark. Inside was a single page message that said:

Mike,

I wish I could have contacted you sooner, but that was impossible. I’m fine and thanks to you I am no longer being hunted. There will be a time in the near future when we will be able to be together again, if you want me. Until then.

All my love,

Sasha xx

Mike immediately scanned the area looking for Sasha as well as any possible assassins that might be lying in wait. It was all he could do to control his emotions as his hands began to tremble. Could this be real? The last time they were together Sasha was being placed in a private London ambulance, bleeding profusely from a wound she had received while saving his life. He had hoped she had survived, but, with no reliable contacts in the Council of Continents to check with, all he could do. During their brief time together, they had become soulmates, and he thought about her every day.

He re-read the note for a second time and his investigator brain took command of the situation. How did she know where he lived? Was she back working for the organization? Not likely since they were the ones that tried to kill her. How could he get in contact with her and where would it be safe for them to meet? His brain was spinning out of control with unanswered questions when his phone rang.

“Not now, Bill!” Mike said to his buzzing phone, assuming that’s who was on the other end of the number with no caller ID, then he answered the call.

“Hello, may I speak with Mike Gulf?” Said a voice with a noticeable British accent.

“I’m Mike, who am I speaking with?”

“Mr. Gulf my name is Reggie Richmond. I have been assigned the task of settling Andrew Bucannons affairs, of which there are many, and I came across your name and number among his papers. Unfortunately, that’s all the information I have so I thought it would be prudent to ring you up and see if there were any outstanding affairs that needed to be resolved.”

“I had heard through a mutual contact that Mr. Bucannon had passed away rather suddenly, but we had no business dealings. We happened to meet while I was in London on vacation. I gave him my number and said, if he was ever in the States to give me a call. That was the extent of our contact. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful Mr. Richmond.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Gulf. You’ve been most helpful indeed. I now have one less lead I must follow. Have a good day now and thank you for taking my call. Ta!”

Mike clicked off his phone and continued to his car. Could this day get any stranger? He had to find Sasha, but knowing her, she was probably closer than he realized.