The Fleeing Felon

2. Assignment

2 ASSIGNMENT TEMPE, ARIZONA

Earlier That Day

Midnight

Kirby walked into the conference room of TransAde and opened his inbox on the table at the back of the room. He was looking for his assignment for that morning so that he could have a safety meeting with his crew.

After grabbing the barricade plan and briefly reviewing it, Kirby went to the coffee machine to dispense a cup. Alcohol still lingered on his breath. Not only did he need a pick-me-up so that he could work the graveyard shift, but he also needed to disguise the smell of five whiskey shots he quickly drank at his neighborhood bar before coming to work. The whiskey burned his throat while it went down but Kirby liked the hurt. It toughened him up and reminded him of those long nights on the oil rigs off the coast of Louisiana in the Gulf of Mexico.

Those days were long gone. Kirby loved the quick money, the salty air, and the booze and fast women that came with the job, but not the long hours or the innumerable days away from home. He could no longer work as an oil driller after punching his boss in the face for making fun of Kirby’s short stature in front of the other workers. The company couldn’t have cared less about why Kirby assaulted his supervisor. The important thing was that they had a zero-tolerance policy. Unfortunately, that meant Kirby had to find another career. He was blackballed as an oil driller and knew that no company would hire him.

So, Kirby turned to his old profession in the barricade business and moved to Arizona. He was lucky enough to land a job at a competitor. TransAde was good to him. They promoted him quickly to team leader after having been with the company for only a year. Kirby Wilson was a natural leader. He exuded confidence in himself and encouraged others to rise to the occasion. The company manager, Danny Lopez, liked that about Kirby and often overlooked his frequent tardiness and the stench of alcohol that protruded from his clothes like cheap perfume. Wearing shades at night was also a dead giveaway.

But Kirby was on the straight and narrow. After three years at TransAde, things were looking up. He hoped to get another promotion soon and didn’t want to mess things up. Last night’s drinking didn’t help. Kirby wished that he asked the bartender for whiskey on the rocks or had it mixed with something like club soda or ginger ale to dull some of the whiskey’s tooth. It was cheap whiskey, not the kind he could afford when he worked as an oil driller. But it drowned his pain just as well.

“Hey boss, when’s the safety meeting?” Ivan asked. He was eager to get on the road and get the job started.

“Is everyone here?” Kirby replied as he quickly scanned the room for his crew while taking another sip of coffee. “Looks like Chris isn’t here yet.”

Carlos approached and interjected, “He’s in the toilet. He’s got the runs. Chris said the misses made some extra spicy enchiladas and, well, his stomach isn’t liking it.”

The trio laughed as they pictured Chris’s derrière burning on the porcelain throne as he squirmed for relief.

“Boss, I’ll fill him in on the ride over. Looks like I’m driving the VP truck tonight.”

Ivan came in early and always checked the assignments so that he would be on top of things before the safety meeting started. He anticipated that Kirby would be promoted shortly and wanted to step into the team leader position. Ivan hoped that Kirby would recommend him as a natural successor. The other team members just saw him as a suck-up but no longer cared as long as they got their weekly paycheck.

“Thanks. We got the Tempe Ironman coming up and several ramp closures on the Loop 202. Four to be exact. Center/Priest both eastbound and westbound.” Kirby checked the barricade plan again before continuing. His haze was completely gone. “We also have to close the Scottsdale Road and McClintock off-ramps.”

“Both sides?” Carlos asked.

Kirby nodded.

When Chris approached the crew, he interjected, “Sounds like a lot of work.” He was still tucking his shirt into his faded jeans. “Just the four of us.”

“Yeah. Mike’s not in today. They’re counting on us to do a thorough job. We also need to put up pre-warning signs. I’ll drive the sign truck. Carlos, you can drive the crash truck.”

“Alright. I love driving the crash truck—”

“We’ll all convoy to the first off-ramp,” Kirby interrupted ignoring Carlos’ youthful enthusiasm.

Carlos was nearly 20-years old but didn’t garner the respect that he longed for from his older crew members. Chris, his brother-in-law, had gotten him the job after he was fired from his previous position. The rest of the crew didn’t appreciate the nepotism nor his lack of experience. They wanted Carlos to prove himself because they were risking their lives on a treacherous assignment.

“Chris, when we start work, I need you to call ADOT and let them know to turn on the DMS boards to indicate that the ramps are closed.” Kirby eyed him seriously. “You also need to tell them how long the ramps will be closed so that drivers are warned long enough.”

“How long is that?” he inquired.

Kirby flipped through the paperwork and answered, “Monday. To be safe, tell them Tuesday by 10 a.m.”

Kirby always liked to overestimate the amount of time to complete the jobs. That way all the safety measures would be in place well after the job was finished. It also avoided concerns about any miscommunications or missteps.

“Anything else?” Ivan wanted to make sure the crew was fully informed about the assignment before leaving the company headquarters.

“No, that’s it. Let’s be safe out there, guys. We want to makes sure the boss knows we’re the best crew.”

Chris, Ivan, and Carlos scattered towards their vehicles. Kirby took a large swill of coffee. He regretted not bringing his thermos so that he could fill it up. A mug would have to suffice. Luckily, he felt more awake and sharper than when he first arrived at work. The cool, early morning air would increase his circulation and rejuvenate him even further.