by Dave Hazel
“No. They’re not gonna take me alive. I don’t wanna be here anymore. When the time is right, I’ll let them kill me, cuz I’m not gonna go to prison for the rest of my life.”
“Boris, come on, don’t talk like that. I don’t wanna see you die. You’re one of the few friends I have left. Besides, you don’t wanna hurt innocent people, do you?”
“What innocent people?” He yelled angrily. “These damn scumbags have screwed my whole life over. These people have degraded me. Man, they’ve pissed on my life. Now it’s time for me to start pissing back,” he growled like a crazy person. “Sit down or I’ll blow your friggin brains out,” he yelled at someone in the room.
“Boris, how many hostages do you have in there?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. But if they don’t start watching themselves the numbers are gonna get considerably smaller,” he threatened for the benefit of his prisoners. “And you better pass on to those scumbags out there that if I see anyone else come any closer I’m gonna kill everyone in here.”
“Boris, can I come in and talk to you?”
“Myk, I can’t let you go in there,” Towns said loudly.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Boris yelled back. “I wouldn’t want you to get yourself killed.”
“Who would kill me? Would you kill me if I come in?”
“No, you know I wouldn’t. But I don’t know when they’re gonna try to take the building back. I wouldn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.”
“I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about you. If you’re really gonna let them kill you, I’d like to talk before that happens. Look at all we’ve been through together. I never got the chance to say goodbye to Kurt or Denny. At least let me say goodbye to you,” he said to tug on Boris’s heart strings.
There were a couple moments of silence. “I miss them Myk,” he called out and sounded as if he was close to tears. “I’ll let you come in but don’t try to overpower me Myk, cuz I will kill you and then I’ll kill everyone in here.”
“I give you my word Boris. I only want to talk.”
“Myk, I can’t let you go in there,” Towns reiterated.
“I’m going in there to try and talk him out. I know him, we’re good friends. I’m sure I can convince him to give up.”
“I can’t let you do that. I have my orders,” Towns declared. “There’s just too much risk.”
“I’m going,” Mykal whispered defiantly. “What are you gonna do to stop me? Have someone like Langley shoot me in the back.”
“Of course not,” Towns scoffed. “But if I let you go I’ll be in a world of shit. Especially if you get killed or hurt or if you cause others to get killed or hurt. This will all fall on my head.”
“If I can’t get him to give up, I can at least come back and tell you what’s going on in there. It’s worth a try. Why don’t you do yourself a favor Towns, go down the line and check on your men because one of them was complaining about frostbite,” Mykal said with a wink. “This way you had no idea I was going in there.”
“Alright. Please be careful,” he whispered. “Mykal, I said you can’t go in there. We’re to stand by until the negotiators get here,” Towns declared loudly for those nearby. “It’s a liability issue. I’ll be right back. I need to check on my men who might be getting frostbite,” he said with a wink. Towns turned and walked away. “Hey, who’s that back there?” He asked to get his men nearby to turn their heads momentarily.
Mykal saw those on the line turn their heads and he walked out in front of the vehicle with his hands up. “Boris, it’s me. I’m coming in,” he called loudly and hoped Boris wouldn’t shoot.
“Sergeant Towns, he’s going in,” Langley yelled out.
“Mykal, get back here,” Towns shouted for show to cover himself should something go wrong. “Get back. He’ll kill you.”
“Do you want me to stop him Sarge?” Langley called out while aiming his rifle at the back of Mykal’s head.
“No, you stupid shit,” Towns angrily scolded him. “Put that weapon down. He’s on our side.”
Mykal approached the small window to the conference room before entering the building. “Boris, is it safe for me to come in?”
“Yeah sure,” Boris replied away from the window. “You know I love you like a brother, so don’t try anything. I’d hate to kill you, cuz I love your family.”
“I promise, I’m not gonna try anything. I just wanna see if I can talk some sense to ya and if not I wanna say my goodbyes.”
“Just do me the favor and when you walk into the conference room, come in with your hands out in front of you. When I see nothing in your hands, shut and lock the conference room door. If anyone sneaks in Myk, I’ll kill all these low life scumbags.”
“Nothing’s gonna happen,” Mykal said and took his parka off and dropped it. “I got nothing. Boris, you’re my brother, man.”
“Alright, come in.”
Mykal entered through the double doors in the front of the building not far from the window. Much of his military career had been spent in this structure. The last couple of hours of his normal life were spent here before they departed to the missile field back on the 23rd of June. Immediately upon entering building 631 he faced a glass trophy case against the wall of a T-intersection. Broken glass covered the floor where the glass case had been shot. Several of the Missile Wing trophies were damaged. He froze at the eeriness of silence that absorbed the building.
Turning to the left he saw the conference room door down the hallway. Across the hall from the conference room door was the door to the guard mount area and armory. It was in there that Boris had supposedly open fire on the Crew standing at attention while they were being inspected. From all Mykal’s information this was the area of the building where all the action took place. Beyond the two sets of doors at the end of the hall lay at least two bodies. A woman and the legs of a man could be seen in the T intersection. Behind Mykal was the training area. The silence meant all the people at this end of the building were hiding or gone. They would have been unarmed.
Suddenly Mykal felt hesitant to proceed. Seeing two bodies at the end of the hall made it very real. He had just voluntarily put his life in danger and now feared he would die today. He looked beyond the two bodies; the wall of the T-intersection bore several pock marks in the cinder block wall. To the left that area of the building housed the administrative offices including Colonel Parker’s office. To the right was where the secured offices of Wing Security Control were housed. WSC controlled all operations in the missile field. WSC is a controlled area so it would be locked down with all personnel on duty being armed with small .38 revolvers.
Mykal walked slowly down the corridor. Every step crunched the sound of broken brick and glass that was once a part of the walls and overhead lights. Many holes marred the walls where Boris fired down the hall. Some of the overhead lights had been shot making the hallway seemed darker than normal. The closer he got the clearer he saw the female secretary. She lay face down in a puddle of blood that circled the entire upper half of her form. He stopped at the door to the conference room on his left. On his right, opposite the conference room door he spotted a stream of blood escaping the opening of the guard mount room door. The guard mount room was where formal inspections took place and where weapons were issued and returned at the secured windows of the armory.
“Oh no,” Mykal moaned and started to tremble when he looked into the partially opened door to the guard mount room. He didn’t tremble over the gore before him. He shuddered at the thought of what his friend had done to his own life. This couldn’t be un-done. It was bad enough there were two bodies in the hallway, but this sight indeed sickened him. Blood and bodies sprawled all over the inspection room. It reminded him of a much larger version of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre photos he had seen in books about organized crime. Blood splattered on the walls, pools of blood formed around the lifeless bodies on the high gloss floor.
Mykal detected slight movement, indicating some were still alive. The walls looked like a million rounds had been fired into the room. “How the hell did he get a 60?” He whispered to himself. He studied the bodies that were piled on top of each other in the middle of the room. They looked to have been taken by surprise and struck first. Others were crumpled together against the walls and in the corner of the room. They tried to escape his hellish fury but to no avail. More than thirty people lay sprawled on the floor. Not one person evaded injury or death.
Mykal looked at the armory doors and saw where Boris fired on the airmen who opened the secured doors in response to the noise. The armory has three split level metal windows to issue weapons from. They are in cased in a metal cage and can only be opened from within. The opening in the cage is large enough to issue or receive weapons. It would be nearly impossible for a person to gain entry into the armory through the opening. One could shoot into the narrow opening after the metal doors were opened as Boris did.
“Help me,” one of the wounded groaned and reached out his blood covered hand when he saw Mykal standing in the door.
“Shhh,” Mykal whispered. “How many are alive?”
“There are at least eight of us,” a sergeant whispered while he applied direct pressure to the blood seeping from his thigh.
“Wha’ happen’?” A young Airman mumbled tearfully. He held the left side of his face together with his blood drenched hands. “Wha’ happen’? It hu’ts.” His jaw looked to be shattered and most of his teeth were busted out of his mouth.
“You guys need to be quiet,” Mykal whispered. He suddenly feared Boris would return if he knew any of them were still alive. “The guy with the gun is in the Conference room. After I go in there and shut the door behind me I want all of you to quietly go down to the training area. Head straight out the doors at the end of the building and help will be there. Be quiet and don’t turn back. Whatever you do, do not go out the front doors. He will be able to see you if you do. I won’t be able to stop him so play dead until I go in there.”
“Thank you. Oh dear God, thank you,” another cried quietly trying to hold his mid-section together. “I thought for sure I was gonna die cuz nobody came to help. I’m so--”
“Shhhh!” Mykal whispered harshly. He turned and knocked on the Conference room door across the hall. “Boris, I’m alone.”
Mykal heard the bolt being pulled back to unlock the door. During routine meetings, daily briefings prior to going to the missile field, Crew trainings, etc., the door remained unlocked and usually open. During scheduled staff meetings the door was always closed and in most situations the door would be bolted shut to keep the uninvited from wandering in. If the door would have been locked during Parker’s staff meeting, Mykal assumed Boris wouldn’t have been able to take them hostage. The door opened slowly filling Mykal with the sudden urge to run away. The uncertainty of Boris’s state of mind and the wonder if Boris would turn on him terrified him.
When the door opened Mykal saw the body of a person laying just fifteen feet away to his left in front of the first row of the theater style chairs. He couldn’t tell who the man was but the man was dead. The back of his head looked like a pulpy mess. There were three others who must have stood together when they were gunned down. They were on the floor behind Lieutenant Quist, who stood behind the open door to allow Mykal in. Lieutenant Quist was bleeding from his right shoulder. Mykal had seen the man before, but not the pained expression.
Mykal entered the room with his hands extended before him just as Boris had instructed. Mykal couldn’t hide the fact that his hands trembled. Once inside the room Quist closed and secured the door. The loud locking of the bolt made Mykal realize he had just become a prisoner. If Boris decided to keep him as another prisoner, there would be nothing he could do about it. Should Boris want to get a lot of attention, not only did he have many hostages, several of which were military officers, but now in his grasp he had the famous Mykal Graves.
Moving past Lieutenant Quist Mykal saw blood seeping from Quist’s right shoulder where he had been shot. Quist’s movements and actions led Mykal to believe the wound to be minor. The terror in the Lieutenant’s face spoke volumes. Behind the door at Quist’s feet lay the body of Master Sergeant Caso. His dead dull eyes seemed to stare at the ceiling. Around the dead man’s name tag was the only part of his light blue shirt not wet with blood. Caso also had a hole shot into his forehead.
Eyeing the entire room, Mykal saw many hostages and all were seated in the theatre style seating. Many of the prisoners were unhurt, but shaken. They looked terrified as if waiting their turn to die. Boris must have made it clear that if anyone tried to resist him he would kill them all. Everyone sat still in complete compliance. Mykal believed if those outside tried to rescue the hostages Boris would kill them all and gladly go down in a hail of bullets. Boris would be dictating the day’s events.
In the front seat near the center isle sat the body of a man missing most of his head. The remains of his head tilted back, but everything from above the lower jaw was missing. The man’s rank was a Colonel. His light blue Air Force shirt was stained in crimson. The name tag shocked Mykal; Parker. Boris killed Colonel Parker. ‘Oh no, he really did it,’ he gasped in thought.
In the back against the bullet scarred wall stood Boris. Boris held an M-60 machine gun strapped around his neck and shoulder over his winter parka. He had to be hot wearing the parka. Two handguns were tucked into his waistband. He had a Smith and Wesson .38 and a copy of his favorite weapon of all, a Red Hawk .44 magnum. It was exactly like the one he used in Towbar’s world to kill a number of Sosos. Since Boris’s .44 magnum had been confiscated upon their return from Towbar’s world, Mykal wasn’t sure how Boris came to own another. A cigarette dangled from his lips.
“Hey Myk.” Boris gave a strange smile. Still intoxicated, he seemed keenly aware of everything going on around him. The machine gun rested on his belly supported by the strap over his neck. His right hand wrapped the pistol grip of the M-60 while his left hand rested on the handle of the .44 magnum. He looked like a proud warrior, though in reality he became a cold blooded murderer. “So what’s been going on?” Boris said as if everything seemed normal. Seeing Quist locked the door and no one else entered behind Mykal, Boris moved to the front of the room. “Sit your dumb ass down,” Boris growled at Lieutenant Quist.
“Boris, why are you doing all this?” Mykal asked. Clearly his voice showed he hurt for his friend. Boris would either end up in prison for the rest of his life or as Boris declared earlier, he would die today. He felt sadness watching the fearful expression in Quist’s face. Quist quickly followed orders plopping into a seat cushion covered with someone else’s blood. Quist’s quickness revealed Boris wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. “Why?”
“I don’t like Mondays I guess,” he forced a laugh. “That’s right, today is Wednesday. Who is that song by? Boomtown Rats, right?”
“Yeah, the Boomtown Rats,” Mykal gave a sad sigh. Mykal knew he could have fixed this problem if he would have known. If William would have allowed there to be communication it would never have come to this.
Does anyone in here know what that song is about?” Boris asked and pulled his .44 magnum. It appeared he was looking for a reason to shoot someone.
“It’s about a girl who went on a shooting spree at a school,” Mykal answered quickly fearing Boris might use a wrong answer to target someone.
“Damn Myk, I thought I was gonna have to kill one of these stupid asses. So, that song could be about me?” He chuckled.
“Remember how we used to sit up all night long out in the missile field and listen to all the music I would bring out?” Mykal asked.
“Yeah, I miss those days,” Boris answered sadly. “I learned a lot about music and different groups with all those tours out in the field. I knew you were my friend,” he pouted. “Everyone talked about me behind my back, but not you. Or Kurt and Denny?”
“Cuz you are my f
riend. Boris, you’re more than a friend. You’re like my family. Especially after all we’ve been through together.”
“I know it sounds silly, but I miss working the field,” Boris said and pouted. “I miss Towbar’s world.”
“Come on Boris, talk to me. Why are you doing all this?”
“It’s cuz of these maggots,” he snarled and swung the machine gun toward his captive audience. “These rotten bastards have all been screwing with me and pushing me and making my life a living hell. Colonel Parker won’t ever screw with me again,” he snickered as he nodded toward Parker’s remains.
“What the hell happened, Boris? How’d you get a 60?”
“You were in my room this morning, right?” Boris asked.
“Yeah. When I left you were sleeping.”
“Wow, I thought I only dreamt that,” he said as if they were having a normal conversation. Boris paused and then sighed out loud. “I’m tired Myk. I’m really getting tired so maybe you better go cuz when I kill the rest of these low life scumbags I’m sure they’re gonna blow this whole building up.”
Mykal could sense the room tense up when Boris made his threat.
“Please don’t kill us,” a whimpering voice begged from the center of the seating.
“Shut up,” Boris yelled and swung the machine gun in the direction of the whimpering. The long belt of ammunition swung freely with it. There was more than enough ammunition in the chain of rounds to finish everyone off before having to reload.
“Alright, I’ll go, but first tell me what happened. Since you’re gonna finish everyone off and then let them kill you, at least tell me what happened so I can tell everyone what really went down,” he suggested. He wanted to keep Boris talking. “You know how the media is if they don’t have all the facts, they’ll make it up as they go along and they’ll twist it to suit their own agenda. If we’re never gonna see each other again buddy, do me this last favor. Tell me what happened. And then I’ll share the truth with the world.”
Boris paused for a moment. “Okay. Well, sometime after you left, my alarm clock went off and I got up to go to work. I decided to have a beer instead and I said to hell with it, I’m not going to work. Then some moron, who I wish was here right now, came pounding on my door and said I was late for work and I better get my ass moving or I’d be AWOL. I tried to tell the idiot pounding on my door that I was too sick to go to work and he said that was my problem and I better get moving.