by Joseph Storm
Gunner took the lead nightstick and started pounding the bars. Striker joined him with the gun, as Becky Fox leaned against a corner. She tried to gather herself. Footsteps filled the air, as the two men took their planned positions. Becky was in clear sight.
Commander Xavier burst through the door, seeing Fox helplessly out of her cell. “How did you...” he couldn’t finish his statement, as Gunner placed the weapon to the back of his skull.
Striker reached into Xavier’s gun holster, retrieving his long barreled Smith & Wesson. “I’ll take this back,” he said, tossing the puny gun to the floor.
“Pulled a fast one? Ah? Go ahead, shoot away,” Commander Xavier Sin said.
“I’m not going to shoot you. First, I’m going to electrocute you like her,” he said, motioning towards Becky. “Then, I’m going to do to you, what you did to my wife and son!” he yelled in anger. “Cut you into small pieces!”
“You can’t do that,” he said in a wise tone.
“What did you say?”
“I said you can’t do it...because...maybe...just maybe...they didn’t meet the same fate,” he said, laughing out loud. “Maybe only one of them was killed? In fact, I’d bet on it.”
A furious Striker grabbed Xavier by the shirt, flinging him down into the chair. He dipped the sponge in water, threatening to shove it into the man’s throat. “Don’t mess with me like that! Tell me the truth...you son of a bitch!” Joe yelled.
“You’ll never find him if I’m dead. And mark my words...if I die...the orders have already been given. Your boy will die with me.”
All of a sudden, a noise sounded from Xavier’s radio. “Leader in route. He want to examine prisoner. Prepare for arrival,” the voice echoed.
“The plot thickens. You’re left with a choice,” Xavier said. “Choose...between getting your revenge on me...or finding your living son? Killing the one man that knows his fate...or saving this battle for another day? There’s not time to torture me for answers...the clock is ticking,” he let out a laugh. “The leader himself is on his way to see you personally.”
“No!” Striker said, as he seemed torn to which mattered more. Should he give in to his anger, grief, or curiosity?
Gunner stepped in. “If it were up to me...I’d shoot the bastard. However, he’s got you by the balls. We gotta go.”
“There is no we, remember?” Striker asked.
“There is now,” he said, making Joe rethink his strategy.
“Let your leader know...this isn’t over. Let him know there’s a person out there who won’t stop until his crimes are paid for! Until America is once again free! Until I find my son!”
“Just know...I’ll find you,” Xavier said.
“Not if I find you first,” he answered.
“I like a challenge...but not your odds,” Commander Sin replied.
“We have to move,” Gunner pleaded.
“One last thing before I go” Joe said. He took the butt of his revolver, smashing Commander Sin’s glass eye. Xavier let forth a deep, blood curdling scream. He forced his eyelid open, causing a river of blood to spill glass shards from deep within. All that remained was an empty chasm revealing his ocular socket.
Joe removed the radio from Commander Xavier, smashing it. “You won’t be needing that.”
“Get this over with, kid! They’re on the way!”
Striker flung Xavier into the prison, slamming the door shut.
Gunner picked up the distraught Becky Fox into his arms. She buried her head deep into his neck, making him feel like a man. He hadn’t felt the touch of a woman in need for many years.
The three of them exited the makeshift prison. With every step, they were followed out by Xavier’s cries of pain, slowly transforming into sounds of an angry, raspy laugh.
Chapter Five:
The Burial
The blades of the presidential, Leader One helicopter, spun with fury. On board, Leader Judas and Under-Leader Arnold headed towards Mika Sorka’s secret warehouse. They both anxiously awaited their arrival.
“Any word of the mole yet? Did they retrieve the microchip?” Leader Judas asked.
“No, sir. I haven’t heard back from the commander. They’ll never talk...and I don’t mean to overstep my authority, sir, but may I suggest that we just execute them and be done with it?”
“Excuse me, Under-Leader? We should just let that traitor congressman walk? Let incriminating information float around...waiting to be found?”
An uncomfortable look filled Under-Leader Ben Arnold’s face. “Not at all, Mr. leader, sir...I just mean...we have control, support of the people. The mole is minimized, can no longer do us harm. The location of the microchip will die with the traitor.”
“No harm? That mole may be walking amongst us! That microchip could reveal everything. When I get my hands on it, I can assure you that I will destroy it personally! Crush it with my own two hands! I have ordered it brought directly to me...first!”
“I’m sure the commander has it as we speak. That’s probably why he didn’t answer the calls, I can’t seem to make contact with him. You know how he gets when he’s in the act of something he loves.”
“Mark my words...it will end today.”
“I just believe that we should put our energy into greater plans, Mr. leader. Not chase ghosts.”
“Why are you so interested in giving up this hunt, Under-Leader? Your name appears on that chip, as well as mine.”
“Are you suggesting something, sir?”
“I am suggesting that we are not prepared to deal with an angry public witnessing our hands awash in blood! We are beloved by these people, why would you want to risk it all? What interest do you have in our failure?”
A look of fear crossed Under-Leader Arnold’s face, as he knew that accusations were not followed up by trials. He realized that his questions were only turning a wide and aimless spotlight on himself. “You make a good point, leader. We should continue to pursue it with all our resources.”
Leader Judas nodded, though still had suspicion in his eyes. It was a known fact that the mole was a close insider to Mika Sorka. There were thirty people who had access to the computer network, though many of them were scattered around the world, hidden under aliases.
Many of the people did their jobs from remote locations, avoiding any chance of being discovered by the reach of the CIA or its allied counterparts. Since many of those people are so covert, then the administration would need to see the microchip to figure out its fingerprints.
It would reveal clues such as the factory where it was produced, the world manufacturing code, and the most important clue: an access code used to enter the server. It was the smoking gun that would narrow the path to fingering the mole. However, until that was found, Joe Striker would be the only lead they had.
They would soon find out that they didn’t even have him.
******
Striker bolted from the doors of the warehouse. Gunner slowly walked behind him, carrying a woozy Becky Fox. Joe looked around for a definite set of tire tracks, calling out, “Here!” His concerns were not of the incoming leader, but only of Jenny.
He found a fresh set of tire tracks running along the forest ground, trampled vegetation, and small flattened trees. Joe knew that it would lead straight to the mass grave that they were forced from.
On the journey, he kept asking himself, could my son still be alive? Or was it just a ploy to keep that scum bag from taking a bullet in his head? Time was ticking away. He knew that the leader would land soon, bringing with him an armed security force. He was stopped from burying his wife once, though would not let it happen again; even if it ended up killing him.
Joe, Becky, and Gunner continued to briskly trace the path through the forest. They raced against time to the site of the mass burial.
As they arrived, Becky fought her exhaustion, pointing towards a tree from the comfort of Gunner’s arms. “There!” she mumbled.
“What’s over t
here?” Gunner asked.
“Phone. Microchip,” she said in a weak voice.
Gunner walked over to the tree. “Inside...roots,” Becky said. Gunner reached into the dark hole, pulling out the phone that Becky had hidden from sight.
“One smart chick...that’s for sure,” he said, realizing that the act stopped Xavier from getting what he was after. In effect, it saved their lives.
Joe didn’t acknowledge the retrieval, as the haunting thoughts of Jenny’s condition overtook his mind. He slowly approached Jenny’s lifeless hand, which still rose from the cold dirt. It only took a moment for him to notice the missing diamond ring. He examined her finger, which appeared to be broken, pulled from its socket. It didn’t take a genius to know that the low-life mercenaries had pulled it off her. Knowing no sense of value or decency, they would rob a grave without a mere regret. The ring was meaningless to Striker at that point, though it revealed a much larger view into the psychotic circus of clowns currently running the country. Dark days were ahead for every American, whether they realized it or not.
A weakened Becky Fox opened her eyes, seeing the disappointing sight. “They took her ring!” she said.
“Who was she?” Gunner asked.
“You can put me down,” Becky said, as Gunner complied. She stumbled onto her feet, as he helped steady her. “She is his wife.”
Gunner looked on in anger. “It was his wife...those sick bastards.”
“Is his wife! Love doesn’t die...or so I’m told.”
“Well, sweetie, I’d recheck your sources. It dies...and stays dead.”
“You lost a wife?”
“No...she lost me.”
“I don’t think it’s the same thing,” Becky said, gazing back at Joe.
Striker dropped to his knees. He pulled together the strength to unearth the horror that he feared the most. Joe dug down, revealing the empty gaze of his wife. That’s when it hit him, she was officially dead.
Tears fell from his eyes again. His head hit the ground, diving into a kneeling fashion. He quickly rose up, “Why!” he screamed towards the sky. “Why her? Why not me?” He returned to freeing the rest of her body.
The smell of flesh started to fill the air. Sights of Jenny’s dirt-covered face hit Striker’s stomach like a ton of tomatoes. Reaching the midway point, he discovered that her stomach had been sliced open, causing him to vomit the little contents from hours ago.
“My God,” Becky said. She wiped away her own tears, moving towards Joe to comfort him.
Striker continued to vomit, sickened by the whole scene. Realizing that he was no longer able to carry on, Becky pulled her own strength together. Dropping to her urine stained knees, she took over the digging.
Joe looked over, witnessing the act. He wiped the vomit from his mouth and began to crawl over. Gunner extended his hand, helping Striker up. “Like you said, we’re gonna need each other, after all.”
Gunner gripped Joe’s hand, pulling the desperate man to his feet. He helped him return to his purpose.
The three of them dug deeper, freeing the limp body of Jenny from the mass grave. Joe laid her down upon the earth. Her white skin, contrasted the black silk nightgown that he loved so much. He could still see her modeling it for the first time in their bedroom, realizing now, it would be the last time he would see it on her.
He focused on the hole that was cut through it, revealing the deeper slash in her stomach. There was no sign of a fetus, just an empty chasm of dried blood and placenta. She was cut from her sternum, all the way down to her pubic bone.
It was clear that the baby had been removed. There was little sign of survival. The odds of such a rough, messy pregnancy would suggest that the fetus didn’t make it. However, it only opened another question in Joe’s mind. His closure would not be complete, letting one family member go, now searching for another.
Would the baby be better off dead than in their hands? he asked himself. He knew that the answer was yes, though for the sake of his sanity, he left it unanswered.
A trembling Striker slowly swept Jenny’s face, wiping off the dirt with his own dirty hand. He cleared it off, revealing her still beautiful skin. The blue eyes which managed to shine through the dirt, were gently closed by Joe’s fingertip, allowing her to be at rest.
He ran his fingers through her soiled hair, as a small lock fell out from its pores. Joe placed it to his nose, inhaling deeply. His strong senses separated the blood smell from the beauty, the dirt from natural oils which were still left.
Striker kissed her on the head, taking her lifeless body into his arms. “It’s time to give you a proper burial,” he said.
The words were barely out of his mouth, when the thunderous roar of a Leader-One chopper sped through the air.
“Get down!” Gunner yelled.
“Down where?” Becky asked.
Gunner peered into the exposed hole in the ground, mixed with many lifeless bodies. “Down there.”
“Are you crazy?”
“The police force shrink seemed to think so, though that’s for another conversation. Anyway, we’re in an open field. Do you really think they’re not gonna notice three random civilians roaming around on their property? Throw in some dug up stiffs, and they’ll know something’s wrong.”
“Do what he says,” Joe replied. Gunner picked up a body and laid it on top of his own, concealing himself.
Joe laid Jenny’s body down next to him, putting a different corpse over his own. “No one make a move,” he yelled out.
Becky didn’t move an inch, nervously saying, “I can’t. I just can’t do it.”
The chopper appeared in the deep distance, rapidly approaching the scene. “You can and you will!” Gunner demanded. He tossed the body from him, taking Becky into his arms. Together, they plowed down into the ground, re-covering them both with a body.
The chopper passed overhead, though the noise didn’t fade into the distance as expected. Unfortunately, Leader-One decided to fly circles around the site.
“I can’t take this any longer! I’m claustrophobic for God’s sake!” Becky yelled.
Gunner gripped her tightly, not letting her move. “Pretend we’re cuddling...you know...women love that sort of thing.”
“Not me...and most certainly not with you!”
******
Leader Judas and Under-Leader Arnold watched from the window. They expected to see a dirt-covered field. However, it was covered with bodies instead.
“I cannot believe what my eyes are witnessing!” Leader Judas yelled.
“Dead bodies for all to see! The reporters may not even overlook that fact,” Under-Leader Arnold said.
“Pilot! Take this bird down...I want to see what this is about.”
******
Joe inhaled deeply, trying to keep himself from getting sick again. The smell of the many dismembered bodies was equal to rotten tuna fish and milk combined.
“Shit!” Gunner called out.
“What?” Becky asked in a panic.
“Nothing, just be dead quiet! Literally.”
The roaring engine and blades of the helicopter slowed to a crawl. “Are they landing? They can’t be landing! They just can’t!”
“Would you rather be back in that electric chair?”
“Can I get back to you on that one?”
“Just shut it!”
“Stay calm,” she told herself, closing her eyes tightly. “You’re on a tropical island...not in a hole with dead people.”
Leader Judas stepped out from the bowels of the helicopter. He looked around at the pile of unearthed bodies. “Something isn’t right. I gave strict orders that this gets sealed, deep into the ground.”
Under-Leader Arnold joined him. “Mr. leader, sir, the mercenaries tried to contact Commander Sin...still no answer.”
An eerie look crept upon Simon Judas’s face. A sudden jolt under one of the bodies had caused him to examine it closely. It was the body that was hiding Becky and Gunner
. “Move this,” he exclaimed. The mercenary immediately flung the body away, revealing a dead-still Becky and Gunner.
Gunner was smart enough to remember that the leader looked upon his face just hours ago. His only hope was to keep Becky’s head blocking his own. It was up to her now. If she could remain still, maybe they wouldn’t go any further. Her goal was to completely let go, letting the full weight of her body rest upon Gunner.
Striker, who was a few feet away, slowly freed the gun from the back of his pants. He used the dirt to conceal the click of the hammer. They were undermanned and outgunned, though he wasn’t about to go down without a fight.
“Bury these bodies, they’re practically still breathing...they’re so fresh,” Leader Judas said.
Becky let out a small gasp, luckily no one heard.
“Yes, sir,” the mercenary said.
“We’ll leave you behind, hike your way back. We have to check on the commander.”
The two leadership members entered the helicopter, which started its engines and sped towards the warehouse.
The mercenary looked upon the bodies, saying, “Shit!” He decided to start with the deceased body of Jenny, who had yet to begin decomposition. He kicked her, breaking a rib from within.
Joe clinched in anger, wanting to burst from the body that was shielding him. However he knew that his revenge would come with patience.
The mercenary dragged Jenny’s body back into the hole. He moved towards the adjacent corpse which was concealing Joe. Striker positioned the gun at the corpse’s belly, slightly bobbing it up and down.
Seeing the body move, the mercenary yanked his weapon from its holster. He moved cautiously towards it. Tapping it with his gun, he asked. “Anybody home?”
Suddenly, a massive gunshot ripped through the corpse’s stomach. It tore through the face of the mercenary.
Joe forced his way up, causing Becky and Gunner to gladly follow.
“That will haunt my dreams for years to come!” Becky called out.
“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” Gunner asked Becky in a flirty manner, as he wiped the smell of dead from him.
“Men...they’re even horny in a mass grave. Sicko,” she proclaimed, wiping the dirt and grime off her in disgust.