\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2173474-The-Hinson-Chronicles-Atlas
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: GC · Chapter · Thriller/Suspense · #2173474
A man is held hostage with his family in his house by federal agents.
Chapter 1

“Atlas Hinson,” the sharp female voice said from behind me as the door to the interrogation room opened and closed. I heard the tack-tack of her heels pounding the tile floor like an executioner.
When she came into view, I tried to squint convincingly at her face and said, “I’m not Atlas. That’s an easy mistake to make for anyone who doesn’t know us,” I said.
“I guess I should apologize… Alistair. The idiots we have in the field swore it was Atlas they brought in. The report says his eyes are a vivid green, like iceberg lettuce while yours are--”
“A radiant shade of blue, I know,” I completed. She was wearing a gray blazer with matching slacks and a white button down shirt and had short mahogany hair and piercing brown eyes behind dark red plastic glasses.
“I’ve read your file and I know you were very close with your brother. I know he has taken the spotlight throughout your entire life. That must have been hard,” she said. “Especially considering all of your success with cyber security he doesn’t share.”
“Atlas was a very impressive man to those who knew him. I knew him better than anyone now alive,” I said.
“So it didn’t bother you?” she asked.
“Like I said, he was an impressive man. Coming second to him in so many things isn’t shameful,” I said calmly. I had been briefed this would happen. She was using her thousand-plus keys on me until she found one that worked. She had tried Good Cop, insulting the people who brought me in to make me think we were friends and she tried making me emotional about my brother.
Unsurprisingly, she felt she struck a chord and dug a little deeper. “What can you tell me about your brother?”
“What do you want to know? He was a mechanic and an architect and also a builder and a chef. He was never idle. When he wasn't sleeping, he was training himself in guns or building some great piece of machinery or cooking some delicious meal,” I said. “We may have been twins and we may have looked virtually identical, but we are very different people. I always survived in life through working with others. Atlas learned and adapted. In everything. He even made most of the clothes he wore.”
“That wouldn’t explain what happened in Brighton,” she pushed.
“You know what happened in Brighton and my whole family died because of it,” I retorted, simply, squinting at her face again and a wave of relief washed over me as she removed the glasses that I didn’t need to wear from her pocket and handed them to me.
“I want to hear the side that only you can share. What brought him to implement such extremes to overcome the ATF?” she asked as I cleaned the glasses, being very careful at how I gripped one of the hinges to press a small button without raising suspicions.
“You misunderstand him right from the beginning. He never wanted involvement with law enforcement. He never wanted to challenge anyone. He only ever wanted to be left alone,” I said.
“I’m not saying I disagree with you, but the evidence is stacked against him. To any outside observer, it looks like he’d been preparing for a situation like Brighton for years. I have to think there is some other side to his story,” she said.
So she was trying to get me to share everything about my brother and get a deep inside look into my twin brother’s mind as a result. I couldn't fault her for the tactic. I would try the same thing in the same way.. If that was her only goal, she would have the easy job between us but that was fine. I could give her what she wanted while also giving her nothing meaningful. With skill and bit of luck, she just might trust me enough. “The first thing anyone who would know Atlas Hinson needs to know in advance is that he was obsessed with personal security and defense. Many call him crazy and they aren’t too far off. But he was never dangerous to anyone who didn’t threaten him or people he cared about. He was more damaged by life than anyone I have ever met. He is something of a tragedy, if I’m being honest. The one thing in his life that changed him for the better was the love of his life, Hannah Lexington. With her, he saw peace and tranquility like he had not known since childhood,” I said, hoping she would take the bait.
“Can you tell me about that?” she asked.

"To Atlas!" I boomed, holding a drink up. "The only one who always had my back throughout my life. Any time I needed help studying, he was there. I wouldn't have been able to graduate without him."
Atlas raised his glass, along with our sister, parents, Jesse and a few of our closest friends. "Stop trying to win me over with compliments. I don't care how much flattery you send my way, I'm not building you a house like mine," he said, laughing. Everyone chuckled.
We were having lunch at a small diner in Arvada our family often went to for breakfast on weekends or at the start of trips to visit Grandpa Hinson in Tennessee. The Ralston Cafe was famous for their breakfast food and Atlas thought it would be the perfect place to celebrate my college graduation with a double major in Computer Science and Theater. Although, I only majored in theater to meet girls. "Alistair, where is that nice girl, Crystal? I miss her," Kat, our mom said.
"Mom, Crystal and I broke up a few months ago," I said, not wanting to discuss my love life with my emotional and sometimes smothering mom.
"What a shame, I liked Crystal," she said, taking a bite out of her chicken fried steak sandwich.
"Me too, mom."
"I thought you might even get married."
"Mom, stop that, you know I'm terrified of marriage," I mumbled, tossing around some hash browns on my plate.
"Alistair, I'm just worried about the kind of man you're turning into. I don't want you to be fifty and still cruising every dog park and bookstore hitting on girls half your age," she said.
"If only I could keep this up for that long, that'd be great," I said, laughing and sharing a high five with Jesse.
Mom slapped the back of my head. "Just promise me that you're going to be nice to the girls you date, any one of them might be your future wife and if she wasn't meant to be your wife--" she started.
"She was meant to be someone else's," Amelia, Atlas and I completed together. Even dad started laughing at that one. Dad stood tall and had sandy hair. He was big and strong like my brother and I and was raised to be independent and outdoorsy by his father, who moved out to Colorado about eight years before. Mom was half Colombian, although you'd never guess it by looking at her. She had slightly darker skin, brown eyes and thick shoulder length black hair.
"Mom, I'm not ruthless or a player. I just enjoy meeting new people and spending time with them. I don't hurt anyone, I just do my own thing and answer to anyone. I'm not ready to be tied down by anyone," I said, putting a hand on hers.
A malicious grin spread across my face. "Unless," I said, pausing to make sure my mom was paying attention. "Unless if she wanted to tie me down."
Mom blushed and hit me in the arm. "You're horrible. Look at your brother, he's a good looking man, too. He doesn't date around like you."
"I don't date at all, mom," he said, hoping to stop this conversation, if the look on his eyes was anything to judge by.
"Believe me, Kat, I have tried to set Atlas up with a lot of people, and there is just no shaking that guy." Jesse said.
"Not even any of my friends held his interest," Amelia chimed in. "And some of them are gorgeous."
What she said was true, many of Amelia's friends were extremely attractive and I know, having been involved with nearly all of them at one time or another. But they were too aggressive and reminded him of things he would rather forget about. "They weren't my type."
"Son, I'm a little concerned, too. Do you remember the last girl we thought you might be interested in?" Paul said.
"I'm trying to forget--"
"Brittany Cooper, that girl you knew from middle school. I know you're interested in women. I've seen enough to know that. But would it kill you to at least talk to girls?" he asked.
With the look that we shared, I was sorry my brother was on the hot seat, now and that SHE was brought up. Atlas didn't really have the aversion to her name like he used to. Not anymore. He still had a very hard time trusting women, though. It wasn't like he wasn't interested in them. He definitely was. They just terrified him.
"Boys, I just hope you understand, we don't want to beat you up. We only want you to be happy like we are," dad said, beaming at his wife. "When you meet the right girl, please don't dump her as soon as things get serious," he said looking right at me. "And don't run off as soon as she shows some interest," he said looking at Atlas. "We just want you both to have happy and successful lives."
Dad's worry is what did it, I think. Mom was always fretting about one thing or another, that was yesterday's news. But dad was always more constant, grounded and laid back about everything. "OK, dad. I promise. I won't allow myself to run from every girl who shows an interest in me," he said. He later would tell me he was more shocked that he meant it than he ever thought possible.
"And I'll try to take things a little slower with girls from now on," I said, watching my egg scramble as I pushed it from side to side on my plate.
"Boys, you're both very attractive, I don't know how you got your eye colors, but they're the one thing that every woman I have seen goes absolutely gaga for," mom said.
Before mom could start, again, Atlas and I said together, "We know. You just want grandkids," looking at her.
"I hate to break up the family bonding time," Jesse said. "But we should get going for our shift or mom's going to have my hide," he said looking at his phone.
He wasn't completely right, but we were grateful to be away from the interrogation with a few hours to spare before our shift at the Grizzly Rose, one of the largest bars in the state that was famous for line dancing, great drinks and occasionally serving as a venue for small concerts or MMA fights. The three of us left the diner; I got into the passenger seat of Atlas’ truck and Jesse got on his motorcycle. Jesse took off toward the interstate, Atlas decided to take the more scenic route by the old Stapleton airport. While we drove down 92nd we noticed an older Honda pulled over to the side with the hazard lights flashing. We stopped just in front of the car to see if we could help. Atlas always took time to do this.
A very pretty girl with light brown hair and taupe skin was looking at the engine as if she were about to cry her hands on her head in despair. She was wearing a pair of denim shorts and a bikini top and a pair of sunglasses pushed up over her forehead. We guessed they had just come from the water park a few miles away. "Thank you so much, I have no idea what the problem is. It just died at the light. Someone jumped me but it only did it again a few hundred yards later," she said, running her fingers through her hair in frustration, making it even more wild. Atlas would have bet that her hair was always unruly. Now that he looked closer, he saw that she had hazel eyes.
I watched as Atlas steeled himself. "I think I may know the problem. Mind if I take a look?" he asked.
"Not at all," she stepped away from the hood.
"Are the keys in the ignition?" he asked, walking to the door.
"Yes, they are," she said.
He sat down in the seat and just about had a heart attack when he saw there was another girl in the passenger seat on her phone, dressed in athletic shorts over a blue and white striped one piecel. They looked like they could be sisters. He turned the key and was relieved to hear the starter click. He made a nervous smile at her and got out to look under the hood.
"Yep. There's the problem," he said pointing to the alternator. "That doesn't look good. See all the black in there? Sit tight," he said, getting a voltage meter out of his truck. He checked the reading from the battery and the alternator. "That alternator is deader than Shakespeare. Battery looks great, though"
She chuckled a little. "How much would that cost to replace?"
He thought for a moment. "I did one of these for a car similar a few months back. I think it cost about eighty. If you want, you and I can get the part while Alistair, here, stays with the car and your sister. My truck only fits two," he said.
"Oh. Ok," She said, going back to her car. "Let me just tell her what’s going on."
"Check her out," Atlas whispered, nodding in the direction of the passenger seat. I looked in that direction and saw Stephanie, her sister, sitting, fanning herself with a brochure.
"All right, I'll go with you. Alistair, you stay here with Stephanie," she said.
Atlas and the woman walked to the truck, he opened the passenger door for her and went to the driver seat. By the time he sat down, she had already turned the radio louder. "Sorry, I just love this song!" she said, singing along with the lyrics. "Since the day I met you, girl, you been on my brain..."
"I like this one, too. My name is Atlas Hinson. Pleased to meet you," he said offering his hand.
"Hannah Lexington," she said taking it. Her hands were very soft and delicate. She continued to sing along with the song and he continued.
"So, Hannah Lexington, what do you do for a living?" he asked, trying to push himself to make conversation.
"I'm just finishing up my last year of internship. I'm going to be a doctor," she said. "What about you?"
"This and that," he said. Seeing the confused look on her face, he said, "I do little odd jobs where I can. Kind of a self employed type of thing."
"That's gotta be so cool. Your days are never the same, you don't answer to anyone, don't get in trouble with anyone," she said.
"I don't depend on anyone," he continued.
She looked at him, with an odd expression on her face. This was at the part where they got to the auto shop Atlas used. They got out of the Toyota truck and walked in. "Atlas, how ya doin'?" the clerk said.
"Great, Andy. How are the kids?" he asked.
"Couldn't tell ya even if I wanted to," he said, laughing. "How'd that radiator work out for you?"
"Wonderful. So wonderful, in fact that I sold the car for almost double what I put into it." Andy, a middle-aged portly man with graying hair and a sloppy beard boomed with laughter.
"What do you need, today?" he asked.
"I need and alternator and a timing belt for a Honda Accord. Is it a ninety-three?" he asked Hannah.
"Ninety-four," she said.
Andy took a few moments to hunt and stab on the computer and shuffled into the back to grab the parts. Atlas noticed that Hannah went into her purse to get a card, but chose to ignore it.
"I got everything here. Looks like the total will come to... a hundred and fifteen thirty-seven," he said.
Atlas gave him cash before Hannah could extend her card within reach. "No, I can't ask you to pay that much for me," she said.
"I'm not. I'm buying parts. I would pay a lot more for you, trust me," he said, smiling, scared that he might have gone too far.
She glared at him and Andy boomed. To say he was out of his element with flirting would be an understatement but he was pretty sure that he did it wrong when she looked like she wanted to stab him.
As they left the store, she said with a more friendly tone, "I really need to pay you back for the parts."
"You really don't," Atlas said sardonically.
"Come on, no mechanic in the world would work for free or pay for the part. This is going to be, what? One, two hours of work?" she said.
"How lucky for you I'm not a mechanic, then," he said sarcastically. "But if you're serious, then maybe you can get to know my brother and I better. Tonight, we're bouncing at the Grizzly Rose. Maybe you and your sister can make an appearance?" he said.
She smiled, trying to be nice to this kind, beautiful man She never realized it until now, but she was attracted to the bronzed skin and black hair of his kind face. There was also something with his eyes, beyond the almost paralyzing green gleam. They seemed… Tortured, somehow and she wanted to no him better. "It's a date," she said, flashing her best smile.
"No," he said, maybe a little too loud.
"No?"
"No. This is an invitation. When I ask you on a date it will not be while I'm working and far more romantic."
And just like that, she hated him again. "Why is it that I never know what to expect with you?"
They had just pulled up to her car and instead of answering, he merely smiled and got out of the truck and walked to the front of her car. I got out of the driver's seat so Hannah could sit there. "We'll have you on your way in about a half hour," Atlas told them. I grabbed his tool box from the lock box on the back of the truck and a special wrench with a long handle.
While we were working, Hannah sat with her sister who was absolutely beaming. "This could not have had a better outcome. It sucks that we broke down, but, come on. These guys are beautiful!" She said.
"And arrogant."
"What do you mean?" Stephanie asked.
Hannah adopted a mocking tone. "'This isn't a date, it's an appointment.' I mean, come on," she scoffed.
"Uh-oh."
"What?" Hannah asked, getting annoyed with her sister who always seemed to have almost supernatural empathy.
"You are so falling for that guy."
"What are you talking about? I can't stand him. Sure, he is easy on the eyes, but he's way too cocky," she said, annoyed at the knowing smile on her sister's face.
"So hard."
With that, Hannah decided to ignore her. Before they knew it, Atlas knocked on the window. "Can you try starting it, now?"
She did and it instantly turned over.
"All right, Ms. Lexington, you should be all set. Remember, Grizzly Rose any time tonight," he said.
"Yeah, we'll see," she said and slammed on the gas while Atlas screamed in surprise as he threw himself on the car to avoid getting dragged. Hannah smiled, doubting that she hurt him.
"Big trouble," Stephanie said, laughing. Stephanie told me later that this was the moment she knew Atlas and I were going to be part of the family… assuming Hannah didn’t kill Atlas, first.

"Well, she looked friendly," I said, laughing. "You must have made quite an impression."
"I don't get it. I thought I was doing so well," Atlas said, lost.
"What happened?"
"When we got to Auto-Zone, she got her card out, but I didn't let her pay."
"Generous of you. I don't see any problems, so far," I said, following him into the truck.
"She said 'I can't let you pay that much for me,' and then I said, 'I'm not. I'm buying parts. I would pay a lot more for you, trust me.'"
I laughed. "Good one. I don't think that she would have too much to complain about though, especially when you think about how she was attracted to you to begin with," I said. "It was pretty cocky especially since you are close enough to the same age."
“Why would that matter?”
I hesitated. “If you’re making a joke about ownership, it comes across different from an older man than it would a younger man or the same age.”
“Which I am,” he said, looking down.
“Don’t worry about it. If you beat yourself up over everything, you’ll forget to live I think we are going to be seeing a lot more of them,” I said, smirking
“How do you know? What happened while we were gone?” he asked, smiling.
“A gentleman never tells, but Stephanie will make sure to come tonight and bring Hannah in tow. She is incredible, isn’t she?” I asked, thunderstruck. “What else happened?”
"As we left the store, she said that no mechanic would fix a car for free, I just told her it was good for her that I'm not a mechanic. Then I invited her to the Rose tonight to hang out a bit and she said that it was a date. I told her that it was an invitation, not a date," he said, confused.
"I bet she thinks you're arrogant and maybe as much of a womanizer as me. If she shows up tonight, I think she'll see you differently. Don't sweat it, bro. Jesse sent me a text, asking us to come a little earlier. He has to do something for the club, so we’d better head straight over."
“Didn’t tell us what he was doing.” He didn’t make it a question.
“No, of course not. We all know that we can join the Bandidos any time we want. But, until we do, we won’t know what goes on with them.”
© Copyright 2018 Jordan Guison (guison at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2173474-The-Hinson-Chronicles-Atlas