by Dwayne Gill
The first masked man was holding a rifle, now useless, but was trying to use it as a club as he barreled in. He ran full-speed at Daniel, and when the man was three feet away, Daniel raised the leg and swung it, all in one motion, striking the man hard against the left side of his head. The prosthetic was sturdy, one of the newer titanium models that gave the leg more range of motion, although it never remedied Bob’s limp.
The man tumbled to the ground past Daniel and didn’t move. Two more men were closing in, one holding a knife, the other feeling brave and coming with nothing but his hands. Daniel wanted the knife-wielder first; he’d had his share of slashes and stabs and didn’t like them much. This man was holding the knife like a pro, which wasn’t surprising; the marked men Daniel encountered in the past were all formidable and knew how to fight. The knife was cupped downward in his hand and he was measuring Daniel up. The man slowed down, sensing his buddy’s flank. Daniel knew the first man wouldn’t be getting back up, so it would just be these two.
The knife-wielder was the first to move and was quick, slashing Daniel across his chest. However, that was what Daniel wanted; he grabbed the marked man’s right arm with his left hand and gripped, keeping the blade in place inside the gash. It burned, but Daniel had experienced worse, and the pain motivated him. He brought the leg down on top of the slasher’s head with incredible force, hearing it crack as it made solid contact. He also felt a burning sensation in his right shoulder and back.
Knowing the other man was right behind him, Daniel spun around, ready to strike. The last marked man had a pistol aimed at him, and he could tell it was an old-style model. He wondered for a moment why the man wasn’t firing and realized two things: one, the gun had malfunctioned, and two, the burning sensation he felt in his shoulder was from a gunshot.
The masked man, fed up with the gun, sprinted toward Daniel with his shoulder down, desperate, likely knowing he stood no chance, even with Daniel wounded. Daniel dealt an uppercut with the leg as he closed in, stopping the man’s forward momentum. Then he released the prosthetic, grabbed him, lifted him into the air, and slammed him to the ground with enough force to hear the crunch of bones. His right shoulder felt like it was on fire.
Daniel looked around him; he saw the driver of the enemy van slumped over, dead. He couldn’t be sure there weren’t more men inside it, but it seemed unlikely. A group of men he didn’t know were inspecting the van with their guns drawn. They also checked all the masked men for pulses. He saw Calvin by the driver’s door of the armored van, and he sprinted over to Daniel.
“You okay?” asked Calvin.
Daniel nodded.
“Shot, stabbed,” said Calvin. “Just another day at the office for you.”
Daniel realized how much he’d missed Calvin’s humor. He threw his left arm around his good friend, and they walked toward the van. “Who are all these people?” he asked. Daniel recognized no one besides Calvin and Hart.
“These two are FBI agents,” Calvin said, pointing to Hart and Barkley. “That guy is ex-military, and he trained that guy and another assassin,” he said, pointing at Bowman and then Lynks. “And the other three are just here to help.”
Hart and Barkley knelt over the two FBI agents, who were both dead. Samuel died in the gunfight. The second corrections officer was also dead.
“I want all these men honored,” said Hart. “People need to know they were on the right side.”
Everyone else flocked around the van, although they knew they weren’t going anywhere in it. They all took turns greeting Daniel, but he could tell they were in a hurry.
“We gotta get moving. We’re on a tight schedule,” said Bowman. Daniel wondered how they were going anywhere with no vehicle, and Calvin must’ve noticed the look of confusion on his face. “Lynks left his van parked about a half mile up the road, just in case we had to use the EMP.”
“Someone needs to run and get the van,” said Bowman. “Wayne’s not seriously injured, but he can’t walk.” Bowman was referring to his wounded friend. “It’ll be faster if one of us drives the van back here.”
Lynks volunteered and sprinted to retrieve his mobile center.
Daniel sat down and waited, as did the rest.
“What’s going on?” Daniel asked Calvin. Something else was brewing besides them wanting to make a getaway.
“It’s a long story, big guy,” said Calvin. “We’ll fill you in on all the details later. I’ll give you the shortened version on the way.”
Charged Up
Wednesday, 9/13/2028, 11:15 a.m.
Oglethorpe, Georgia
Kristy was in a familiar position, tied to a post in a dark room. It wasn’t a round pillar in a barn this time, but rather a smaller, square post in a large closet. She’d been here a day and a half, tied up and taunted by her captor.
The first time Kristy was a captive, she had, for the most part, kept her composure and used her intelligence to stay alive. This time, however, she didn’t have the mental fortitude; she seemed to have no control over her emotions, as she was overcome by grief and hopelessness.
When first captured, Amos was so fed up with her screaming and crying he nearly killed her, which would’ve suited her just fine. Though she didn’t witness Amos kill her mother, she’d seen the aftermath and knew she was dead.
Her mother. Her best friend. Gone. Of all the trauma Kristy had endured the past few years, losing Helen was the worst of all. She couldn’t imagine her life moving forward without her. How could she? She wouldn’t have made it this far in her life without Helen.
Kristy sobbed and wailed for the first twelve hours of her captivity until she passed out from exhaustion. Since then she’d been trying to sleep but couldn’t, which left her trapped in a loop thinking about life absent her mother. She longed to cry on Cane’s shoulder and for him to squeeze her and tell her it was okay. He was all she had left now.
Her grief was helping her in a way she never expected, however. It acted as a numbing agent to the surrounding terror and it made her less fearful of her own death. Not that she was okay with dying, especially at the hands of Amos, but the raw fear wasn’t there.
Amos differed greatly from the Blue Rose Killer, her previous captor. He looked and talked like a businessman, was clean-cut, and didn’t smell. He seemed to be more intelligent and was full of confidence, but also had a sadistic side that seemed to enjoy seeing people in pain. After telling her about how he killed Helen, he searched Kristy’s eyes for her grief and grinned when he found it.
He did his best to recreate the scene of her first captor, the barn, although it felt nothing like it. He even had her hands secured with a plastic tie, which seemed odd to her that he knew about. It wasn’t like every detail about her case was made public.
She could hear Amos talking on the phone. He was close to the closet door, and he sounded furious. “I don’t know what happened! No one’s answering their phones.” He paused. “Well, that’s a good question. I can tell you one thing. He’s either on his way to your place or on his way here.” Kristy suspected he was talking about Cane. “Yes. I know. If the two of them are together, Rick, it’s bad news.” Was he talking about Lynks? She didn’t know who the ‘two’ of them were, and she’d never heard Rick’s name before. “Well, get here as fast as you can.” Another short pause. “Ten minutes? Okay, well hurry.”
She could hear him pacing and breathing hard, and she wondered what was going on. Did Cane do something that messed up his plans? She hoped so. “Bart, come in,” said Amos. There was a momentary silence. “Bart, come in,” he repeated. “Kurt, come in.” He was calling people that weren’t answering. “Jason. You there? What the hell?”
Kristy heard him shuffling around. “Where the hell is everybody?” He exited the room, and it was quiet. She hoped this new development was good news, but she had no way of knowing. A moment later, she thought she heard more movement outside the door. Was it Amos? If so, he made it back quickly.
The doorknob
of the closet moved for a second then stopped. Kristy’s heart raced. It jiggled again and rotated this time, and the door swung inward. The light stung her eyes, and she squinted, but she could see the silhouette of the man she’d never confuse with anyone else’s. It was Cane. She bawled, more out of joy than anything, and she heard him shush her. She wanted to stop but couldn’t, so she tried to focus on breathing through her nose. He approached her and touched her face, and she’d felt nothing so wonderful in her life. “I’m getting you out of here,” he said. He stepped behind her, cut the ties, and helped her to her feet. “We gotta hurry,” he said.
Kristy felt him scoop her up in his arms, and he was walking fast, but not to the exit door. She looked around her, and although her eyes weren’t adjusted to the light, she knew they were walking to a window. She was terrified. He set her down, and she stood, though she was unsteady. “You’re gonna have to trust me, okay?” He was holding on to her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. He was so warm; Kristy wished he could just wrap his arms around her and hold her. But for now, she had to snap into it. She looked at Cane and focused, blocking out all the distractions.
“I trust you,” she said.
He released her shoulders and pointed out the open window. “Look who’s waiting for you,” he said.
Kristy walked over and looked down but only saw the roof. She leaned out the window, past the roof edge, and saw a figure at the bottom.
“It’s Lynks,” said Cane.
Kristy smiled and waved at him.
“You gotta get moving,” said Cane.
Cane crawled out the window, onto the roof, and helped Kristy out. They walked to the edge where he’d set up a pulley system. He picked up a harness and walked over to her.
“This will make sure you get down safely,” said Cane. “You won’t have to do anything except enjoy the ride down. Lynks will do it all.” He secured the harness to her—it seemed to be a complicated process—and clipped a cable on the belt.
“How are you getting down?” she asked.
“The front door,” said Cane.
◆◆◆
Amos couldn’t believe what he saw; downstairs, at the kitchen table, were three of his men with their heads resting on top, dead. They didn’t seem to have sensed any danger; one man was still holding his hand of cards.
The day had been a disaster. First, he hadn’t been able to reach Harvey Foster, which angered him; Foster was still mad at him about the Helen and Kristy thing, but this was no time to be ignoring someone’s calls, not with so much riding on today’s events.
Then there was the failed interception of Daniel’s transport, or at least that’s what he assumed. He’d lost contact with the team that was following the armored van ten minutes ago, and they never arrived at the facility in Oglethorpe, which was only a few miles down the road from him. He could only assume that something happened on the way, but what?
The most logical answer was that Cane interfered. Amos thought having his damsel here would prevent that from happening. Now Amos fumed about the situation and wondered if he’d read Cane wrong; maybe Cane wanted to hurt him more than he wanted to save Kristy.
The three dead men were the only line of defense Amos had in place at this location. Most of his men were at their facility in downtown Oglethorpe, but they were on their way. Rick was also coming, but he was even farther away.
Amos had picked this abandoned house outside town to remain out of the way and safe, but also to be close enough to the action if they needed him. He never thought Cane would show up here and didn’t know how he discovered his position.
As Amos considered Cane’s next move, he thought of Kristy upstairs. He didn’t want to kill her yet, not with Cane’s whereabouts unknown, but he wanted to keep an eye on her. He scrambled back upstairs, entered the large bedroom he’d been occupying for the last two days, and walked to the closet. Nothing seemed out of place. As he opened the closet door, however, something seemed amiss that he couldn’t describe. It was a feeling in his gut. When the door opened wide enough, it should’ve revealed Kristy, scared and secured to the post, but instead he saw the man of the hour, Cane, pointing a gun at him.
◆◆◆
Lynks helped Kristy get out of the harness and threw his arms around her. She hadn’t seen him in a long time but always liked him. Helen had been especially fond of Lynks and used to talk jokingly about dating him. A fresh wave of grief flooded over Kristy, realizing she’d never see her mother again.
Lynks released her and looked into her eyes. “We need to get to the van. It’s parked out front. Follow me.” He skirted the wall of the big house, walking slowly. It had started to rain as she was descending the pulley, and now the air was fresh. Anything was better than the stale closet she had been in for the past day and a half.
As they crept closer to the corner, she heard what sounded like gunfire.
“Get down!” Lynks yelled. She knelt down and imitated Lynks, who now hugged the side of the house. She watched him, waiting for him to give a signal. “Wait here,” he said. He ambled toward the corner and turned left, but out of nowhere, a man came flying past and knocked him to the ground. Lynks fell hard and didn’t move, and the man caught sight of Kristy. His eyes grew large, and he smiled as he approached her.
She was weak and didn’t think she’d be able to outrun him, but she tried to rise to her feet. As the man closed the distance, though, she saw another man round the corner, and he was a sight to behold. Kristy had never seen a man so big in her life, in person, television, or the internet. As she wondered whether he was one of the marked men or here to help, he took a few strides and caught the man approaching her. He was holding something between his hands and extended it past the man, in front of him and under his chin. It stopped the man’s momentum, and his legs left the ground. His eyes were so big they looked like they’d explode out of their sockets.
Now Kristy could see the object in the big man’s hands: it was a leg. She watched him give it a few twists, and she could hear something crack, and the man gasped, letting his head fall to his chest. The huge man threw the dead guy to the side like a baby doll then beckoned Kristy to come, so she did, and as she ran, she could see Lynks getting up. Lynks sprinted to the side of the house where all three waited. There was still gunfire coming from the front of the house, and they couldn’t see what was happening.
“This is Daniel,” Lynks said to Kristy. She was thankful he was on her side.
“Let’s move forward,” said Daniel.
They inched toward the corner of the building, Daniel and Lynks leading the way. The gunfire slowed down, though Kristy didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. She could see vehicles ahead but not a lot of movement. She saw a few men lying on the ground, presumably dead.
“What do you see, Lynks?” asked Daniel. Lynks had a small scope surveying ahead of them.
“Unless one of them snuck away, I think they got them all.” That explained why the firing stopped, thought Kristy.
Even so, they approached carefully. There was a large, open lawn between them and their destination, so Daniel scooped Kristy up and ran, with Lynks behind them. As they drew closer, Kristy could see people ahead, and she recognized one face. It was Agent Barkley, whom she’d never seen in action before. She looked much different from the sweet, composed version from a few nights ago; she had a wild, fierce look fixed on her face and her gun aimed steadily out in front of her.
Barkley waved them forward and kept watch for danger as they ran across the exposed lawn. Moments later, Barkley took Kristy’s hand and pulled her to the back of a van. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Devastated, she knew would be the honest response. “I’m fine. Just hungry.” She looked around her. “Where’s Hart?”
Barkley’s expression changed to a more somber one. “He’s hurt.”
Barkley opened the back doors, revealing not just Hart, but two more men lying there. It looked cramped. Two others were kneeling
over the wounded, tending to one in particular. They looked up at Barkley and Kristy when the doors opened and acknowledged them with a faint smile.
“He took one to the shoulder, another to the bicep,” said Barkley, referring to Hart.
“He’s gonna be fine,” said the strange man in the back. “The bullets went right on through. I gave him something for the pain.” He extended his hand. “I’m Calvin. This is Orlando,” he said, pointing to the one kneeling beside him. “And these two are Bowman and Emmett.” He referred to the two men lying down. “There’s also a man named Wayne lying behind me.” Kristy could see the hump now; Wayne was covered up. Kristy hoped he was alive.
“Are they gonna be okay?” Kristy asked.
Calvin gave her a blank look. “We’re doing all we can.”
“Let’s get in,” said Barkley. “We have to be ready to go.” Lynks and Kristy climbed into the back while Daniel occupied the passenger seat. Barkley would drive. Kristy got comfortable beside Hart, careful to give him adequate space.
A package of crackers appearing in front of her face startled her. Daniel had reached from the front seat to hand them to her. She grabbed them immediately.
“Thanks,” she said.
He then gave her a half-empty bottle of water. “I drank some,” he said.
She smiled. She couldn’t care less. She drank water first and then ate a few crackers, but she remembered from last time, after the barn, not to overdo it.
She looked out the back window of the van at the house then nudged Lynks. “Where’s Cane?” she asked.
“That’s a great question,” said Lynks.
◆◆◆
Cane had been lying in wait inside the closet, knowing Amos would come. He would either want to check on Kristy after he discovered the scene downstairs or kill her out of frustration.