by Joe Pascente
“I’m going to call Duke while you work on this thing. The faster, the better, Worm.”
Worm mimicked her by mouthing her words back to her in a childlike impersonation. He hated the way she spoke to him. He actually hated the way the whole team spoke to him, except for Ace. They had the strongest bond because Ace treated him like an intelligent individual who brought something unique and valid to the team. The longer Ace was away, the more Worm thought about leaving this team. The money was beginning to seem not worth the verbal abuse he had to put up with from the team members and the danger he was constantly in.
Bows radioed for Boulder, but there was no answer. She was getting worried, even though she was quite confident he could hold his own against that prick of a bodyguard. But Boulder usually had his brother’s backup in situations like these. Bows figured she would look for Boulder as soon as she had called Duke, and informed him of the team’s situation.
“Duke? I can’t hear you that well. Are you there?”
“I said hello Bows…”
Bows could now hear his voice, but it wasn’t Duke. It was Ace.
“Ace?”
“It’s me. Thanks for the knife. Really helped me out there.”
“What did you do to Duke?”
“He’s fine. A bit cut up, but he’ll survive. If I don’t kill him after all of this, that is.”
“You know why I helped you, right? This doesn’t mean I’m on your side. We are still killing her. I just didn’t want you in the same predicament. Even if I do have strong hateful feelings towards you right now.”
“I promise, if you touch a hair on her head, Bows—I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Kill me? Try me, asshole. This mission is getting done. Not because we were already paid. Screw the money. Not because we haven’t failed a mission yet. Screw our perfect record as a team. I’m doing it for Rocky.”
“So, you and Rocky get to be together because you took Pure and fell in love, but that’s not reason enough to end this mission for me? I don’t get to be with my true love?”
“Don’t say his name. He might not live because of all of this nonsense.”
“See—that’s the difference between you and I. You see this as nonsense, whereas I see this all happening for a reason.”
“Is that what your faith is telling you? Oh, please. Spare me that mumbo jumbo bullshit.”
“I’ll be at the safe house in no time, Bows. Get the hell away from there, or else…”
“Screw yourself, Ace.”
CLICK.
Bows hung up on Ace and exhaled deeply. She knew he wasn’t going to hold back anymore. She could hear it in his voice. This meant everything to Ace, and if the team were still at the safe house by the time he arrived, it’d be trouble for everyone.
“It’s working, Bows. It’s just a matter of minutes before this baby opens up for us,” Worm said, delightfully.
“Great, now go look for Boulder. We need to get the hell out of here. I’ll take her out when the door opens. I need you to find Boulder and tell him Ace is on his way here.”
“But, how did—”
“Worm! Just go.”
Worm scoffed and begrudgingly made his way to the basement staircase going up the stairs lazily. He wanted to be there when the panic room door opened, but Bows was right. If Ace was actually on his way, he didn’t want to be anywhere near him.
Searching every room in the downstairs floor, Worm knew Boulder had to be upstairs. He called up the staircase for him, but there was no answer. Worm wasn’t exactly a field agent, so he didn’t have weaponry training or anything of that sort. He was strictly on the team for his intelligence in computer hacking and gadgetry.
Walking ever so slowly, he finally made his way to the master bedroom where he saw Boulder laying on his back unconscious by the balcony door. Worm tried his best to step around the broken pieces of mirror and glass but the crunching noises under his shoes were inevitable. Worm checked Boulder’s pulse and he was still alive.
“Boulder, man. Wake up! Boulder, we have to go!” Worm shook Boulder and that’s when he noticed he had been shot in the side. The bullet wound didn’t look deep, but if this wound wasn’t taken care of shortly, Boulder would inevitably bleed out and die. Worm radioed Bows letting her know Boulder was hurt and he needed her help to carry him down the stairs.
“Just a minute, Worm. 3…2…1…”
The device blinked three green lights with a clicking noise and the panic room door slid open. Bows expected to find Dr. Haven crouching in a corner arms around her knees crying, but she didn’t see that. She saw an empty room.
Where the hell is this bitch?
And then she saw it. There was a hidden latch on the floor of the room. A door that popped open unveiled a ladder down to a dark tunnel.
Of course.
Bows wanted to go down the ladder and through the tunnel to chase Dr. Haven. And she would have, if Worm didn’t desperately need her assistance to save Boulder’s life. Before she stepped out of the panic room, she spotted a piece of paper beside the hidden door. Dr. Haven must’ve dropped it while escaping.
It was a picture of Dr. Haven and another man. They looked like lovers in this picture.
Hmm, this might come in handy.
“I’ll be right up, Worm. But, I have a random question for you. You know that facial recognition program you created—how well does that work?”
CHAPTER 9
SHADOWS
I. The Twilight Hour
Dried blood had stained his shirt and coat from the cut on the side of his skull that was still slowly dripping down his neck. The cut wasn’t deep, but the aching pain from the pistol whip hurt like a bitch. As the grogginess lifted from his tender head, he wondered how long he had been unconscious. Duke remembered being at Ace’s mercy against the wall, and then there was just blackness.
The rope Ace had tied around Duke’s hands was still wrapped tight around his wrists. But as he struggled to get his hands loose, he thought about all the times he had been in a situation just like this and, somehow, managed to get free. He tried to twist and turn his body to release some of the pressure from his wrists, but all that did was remind him of his shoulder being stabbed by a sharp pocketknife.
It had been a while since Duke had been in the field. These days he sat comfortably behind his desk at Sway, letting his team do the dirty work. It was a profitable job - being the man behind the missions—and much less dangerous. Maybe it was from the adrenaline he was feeling, or maybe he was still a bit out of it, but Duke began to chuckle at the state he was in. He would have never imagined being in this dusty mausoleum, tied up and stabbed.
The chair he was sitting upon was made of wood, and his feet weren’t tied to the chair so Duke did the only thing he could think of and jumped up to his feet, swinging the chair behind him into the tomb. The legs broke off and the chair fell apart rather easily. His wrists were still bound behind him, but at least he was now mobile. He was a middle-aged man, but he still had the flexibility to get his hands in front of his body.
Now, all he had to do was call Boulder or Bows to come pick him up, but alas, his cellphone was gone.
Damn you, Ace.
There was a lamp inside the mausoleum, with a dimly lit light bulb giving off just enough light for Duke to see a few feet in front of him. The dim light was casting a large shadow of Duke’s hunched over silhouette. He was still in immense pain from his stab wound and from being pistol-whipped. Duke glanced at his shadow and then looked at the lamp. Noticing the sharp edges of the iron lamp, he used them to cut himself free from the rope, suffering through the shoulder pain.
He walked outside and was happy to breathe some fresh air. Being a bit disoriented, he spun around in a small circle while his eyes adjusted to the setting sun. He walked the half-mile out of the cemetery and into
the gravel parking lot next to the singular funeral home on the property.
An elderly couple was leaning against one of the only cars in the parking lot embracing each other, as the woman cried into the man’s shoulder. Obviously, they had just visited someone’s grave that was close to them. Most people would see this couple and feel some sort of empathy, but not Duke. He saw an easy opportunity.
Sneaking up on them and without any warning, Duke said, “I like your hat, mister.”
“Excuse me?” The elderly man asked, not expecting to get a compliment on his fedora.
“I said I like your hat.” And when Duke was close enough to the couple, he pulled them apart from one another and put the elderly woman in a chokehold position. The elderly gentleman—her husband—shouted out for help trying to get this man away from his wife. But Duke was a ruthless man, and shoved the older man to the ground. He told the couple neither of them would get hurt if they gave him their car keys.
A minute later, Duke was driving out of the cemetery in their car. He looked in the rearview mirror at the two bodies laying on the gravel parking lot. He didn’t have to do it, but he had to take his anger out somehow. There were now two additional bodies lying in this cemetery.
It didn’t take long for Duke to drive back to Sway, where Rocky was recovering from his gunshot wound. He had been put on a morphine drip and lots of pain medication, but hadn’t been awake since earlier in the day. He was lucky the bullet went right through him and didn’t hit his lung or any other vital organs. However, Rocky wouldn’t be doing any chest workouts for a long time.
Duke made his way to the secret elevator in his office and down into the hidden headquarters. This is where Rocky was resting, on one of the cots laid out for him.
While driving from the cemetery back to Sway, Duke had time to think of his next move. He knew he had to take things up a notch if he was going to keep his team members alive and complete this mission. His plan included Rocky’s help, even if Dr. Peterson advised him not to wake him. He had also advised Duke that Rocky was in no condition to go back in the field after a serious gunshot wound like the one he had experienced. But this advice didn’t change Duke’s mind. He knew he would have to make due with Rocky not being one hundred percent because he was running out of options.
Dr. Peterson was told to leave Sway after Duke wrote him a check for his medical assistance and discreetness. After Dr. Peterson had left the club, Duke took over as Rocky’s doctor. He didn’t mess around with drugs he didn’t understand, but he did know a thing or two about opiates (being an addict for much of his life) and how they numbed the physicality of body pains. He concocted a serum strong enough to wake Rocky.
In a matter of minutes, Rocky woke up feeling confused, but oddly alert. He struggled to sit but with Duke’s help he sat up, looking down at his bandaged upper chest. The pain was numbed by whatever cocktail medication Duke had shot him up with.
“You’re alive, Rocky. You have some healing to do, but unfortunately there isn’t time for that right now. You’re going to have to be strong for the team right now.”
“I don’t understand. What happened?” Rocky asked, feeling quite confused about the whole situation.
“I’ll fill you in on everything I know, but we have to move fast. Phase two needs to commence right away.”
“I’ll do whatever I have to, especially if that means killing that son of a bitch, Ace. Or the asshole that shot me. I mean what the hell happened? Is Ace in cahoots with that bodyguard and our target?”
“I know you have questions, and I’ll explain all I know on the way.”
“On the way to where? And what’s phase two?” Rocky asked, trying to stand up. He was definitely in no physical shape to be doing anything but resting, but he was stubborn and wanted to help his team. He would be ready for anything, with the help of some strong drugs.
Duke explained to Rocky they’d be going on a field trip to the house of Dr. Haven’s boss, Dr. William Rayne. It was time to get personal with Dr. Haven. She seemed like a good person. And what kind of good person wouldn’t try to save the life of a close friend?
Duke gave Rocky a few pills to take along with a shot of opiates and Rocky felt like he was a new man. He could barely feel the sting of the gunshot wound, although the drugs were taking their toll on his mind. He seemed a bit out of it, but Duke thought this tradeoff was well worth it, considering he didn’t value Rocky’s mind—but his physical abilities.
Before they left, Duke made sure to grab an earpiece communication device and channeled it to Rocky’s. He helped him walk out of the hidden headquarters and up the elevator. The two assassins left Sway and walked towards the car Duke had stolen. The sun had set beyond the horizon, and the sky was colored with a brilliant reddish glow. There was just enough remaining sunlight to cast a shadow over Rocky’s face, as he laid low in the backseat of the car.
Rocky daydreamed of his revenge on Ace—as well as the bodyguard who had shot him on the beach. He thought about the countless ways he could hurt each of them for spinning his life out of control. He smiled at the bloody thoughts in his head.
Bows also came to mind. He thought about her beautiful face, her gentle cascading voice and how badly he wanted to kiss her neck, as that was her tender sweet spot. He couldn’t imagine what life was like before he took Pure and looked into Bows’ eyes. The two of them were meant for each other and, in a way, he had Dr. Haven to thank for that. He was grateful for the love drug she created, but he was also adamant about finishing the mission, regardless of how grateful he was to this arbitrary doctor. And now, Duke and Rocky were onto phase two of this mission, and nothing was going to get in their way.
II. Our Former Selves
Dead. That’s how Jacobi felt coming to on the grassy lawn of the safe house. He opened his eyes looking at the dazzling reddish sky above him. He shut his eyes again, not wanting to feel all the pain his body felt, hoping this was some sort of nightmare he could awaken from. But alas, this was reality. He didn’t know it at the time, but he had a concussion from hitting his head hard on the ground when he had fallen off the balcony.
Bloody and bruised didn’t even cover how bad he looked and felt. Reopening his eyes, he observed the sky looked much darker from the reddish hue that he just witnessed. He must’ve passed out for a bit since he first opened his eyes. Not knowing if any of his bones were broken right away, he moved as slowly as he could, moving his right arm from over his head, to his side. He knew just from this slow movement that he had messed up his back in some fashion. It didn’t feel broken, but it hurt with a throbbing ache.
Moving his neck was definitely a chore, looking down at his feet, and noticing how shiny his dress shoes looked. He wiggled his toes and was relieved he could do that simple task. At least his spinal cord wasn’t broken, or his legs for that matter. And then he tried to move his left arm, but couldn’t. Something was definitely wrong. He looked over at his shoulder and saw that it was completely dislocated from its socket.
Sitting up as slowly as his aching back could go, Jacobi took three deep breaths and tried to place his shoulder back where it should have been. But it wasn’t as easy as he had hoped and needed more support than just a pull from his other arm. Somehow managing to get to his sore feet, he walked to the back of the house and leaned his left arm against the wall and slammed his shoulder back into the socket. It popped in with a cracking noise, and he yelped out with a shallow exhale.
Jacobi’s shoulder was the worst of the many painful injuries on his body, but he was also limping from some sort of injury to his hip as well. He was cut up and his head hurt worse than any tequila hangover he’d ever have before.
Once he got himself together, he walked around the front of the safe house and into the destroyed dining room without a front wall. The damage done to this house looked unfixable as the floor had almost caved in. Taking his time, he carefully m
aneuvered his way out of this room and into the foyer, keeping his eyes open for any sign of the assassins that had attacked him and Angela. Jacobi didn’t have any weapons on him and if one of them tried to attack him at this moment, they would, without a doubt, kill him quite easily.
But this fact didn’t stop him from walking into the house unarmed, as he knew he had to get to Angela. He walked over the broken shards of the wooden basement door that had exploded and down the stairs holding onto the railing like an elderly person that was recovering from hip replacement surgery.
He made his way to the bottom of the stairs and was worried as soon as he saw the green glow from the panic room. This meant the door wasn’t sealed and either Angela hadn’t made it inside, or she did and she found the entrance to the tunnel. He looked inside the room and noticed the hatch had been opened.
Thank god you found it, Angela. I’ll meet you, soon.
Relieved that he had proof Angela was still alive, Jacobi wasn’t as reckless as he had been when reentering the safe house. He searched the lower level of the house for the assassins but there was no sign of them. He had to stay alive for Angela, and needed to defend himself if the assassins were still here. He went directly to the kitchen and grabbed the largest knife he could find. Making his way through every room on the lower floor, he knew if they were still in this house, they’d have to be upstairs.
Each step up the stairs was a bit of a chore for Jacobi’s body. He was in rough shape from the fight and the fall. With each step he took, a different thought racked his mind.
What if the assassins followed Angela through the secret hatch and down the tunnel? Maybe she’s not alive. No, she has to be. But where are they if they didn’t follow her?
Making sure to check every room in the upstairs level, he left no corner unchecked. There was no sign of the assassins, except for the bloody mess left from the brutal fight that occurred in the master bedroom. Pieces of the broken glass crunched under Jacobi’s slick dress shoes. Picking up the bloody light green tie off the floor, he walked into the master bathroom, turned the light on and took off his already unbuttoned dress shirt. It was a pristine white just a little while ago, and now it was covered in dried blood streaks.