She hugged him tight.
“It’s too many.”
“I’ll be fine.”
She released him and looked up into his eyes.
“You’ll have to kill, won’t you.” It was not a question.
“I’ll do what I have to. If I can avoid it I’ll—”
She laid her hand flat against his chest.
“Kill them, kill every last one of them and then come back to me.”
His eyes hardened into stones and he nodded.
“Wait in the van; I’ll be back soon.”
And then he walked over to the car and opened the trunk.
“Rivera, we’re on,”
CHAPTER 12
Hof answered the phone in his office by pressing the speaker button.
“What is it?”
“There’s a Mr. Rivera at the gate sir, with another man, and they’re driving what looks like a Rolls Royce Phantom.”
Smith sat up straight.
“Rivera? Hell, I figured she killed him; it must have been Hunt that told her about you.”
“Yes, I got word earlier that he’s in the hospital, expected to live, but just barely,” Hof said, and then he spoke to the phone. “Let them in, Tate, but I want all hands to greet them, you men can have your fun later.”
“Yes sir,”
“Come along, Smith, it appears that Rivera’s found another bidder. A Rolls Royce, yes, I really must raise my opening bids.”
Hof, along with Smith, joined his men outside in front of the studio. As before, the men stood to either side of Hof, their weapons out and ready.
The cream-colored Rolls Royce came creeping around the curve, its graceful lines mesmerizing all eyes.
At the wheel, Rivera sweated a river, while wondering what his passenger’s play was; the odds were eight against one. He decided to up the odds, as he raised a hand towards the horn. At that very moment, a foot crossed over from the passenger side and mashed his own foot against the gas pedal. The car raced forward into the gathered crowd, and then the bullets began to fly.
***
His assault with the car worked better than he dared hope. Three of Hof’s men were crushed against the building, and Hof himself was crying out in a high-pitched squeal, as the car sat parked on top of him, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Smith running away, towards the house, towards Sandra.
Rivera leapt out of the car, with him following, and then babbled about his innocence, that’s when the remaining bodyguards began shooting him.
He rolled along Rivera’s bulk until he was at his back and grabbed the man by the collar. He felt the impact of numerous bullets strike Rivera and struggled to hold the fresh corpse up in front of him as a shield, while returning fire.
He saw one man go down and then he released Rivera, while giving him a hard kick in the backside. Two-hundred and sixty pounds of dead weight toppled into the remaining men and nearly knocked them over, but they kept their balance and both kept firing.
He felt two bullets slam into the vest as a third whizzed by his ear. The man on the right found himself the recipient of a third eye and fell to the ground, as the one on the left took one in the shoulder. His leg buckled as he fired his last bullet and he realized he’d been shot. His last bullet had not been wasted though, and the final man fell to the ground beside his employer, who was still alive beneath the car, and taking short, ragged breaths.
He pulled himself up and tested his leg and found that it would hold his weight, but just barely. He limped over to stare down at Hof as he reloaded his weapon.
“Hang in there, Hof; you can’t suffer enough,”
It seemed Hof disagreed with him, as he picked that moment to die.
He swiveled around on his good leg and limped towards the house. It was Smith’s turn to die.
***
He found Smith with Sandra, holding a butcher knife at her throat.
Smith shook his head. “Who the hell are you?”
He raised the gun and Smith pressed the knife against Sandra’s throat.
“I’ll kill her; I swear I’ll kill her.”
“And then what, Smith, I let you go? Killing her would only make me angry. Take that knife and cut her restraints loose and I’ll let you live, anything else and...”
Smith was breathing hard, as if he had just run a distance.
“I’ll let her go, and then I walk, right?”
He lowered the gun.
“It’s a deal.”
Smith appeared doubtful of his sincerity, but he leaned over and cut the plastic restraints on Sandra’s ankles, and then he freed her hands. When he was done, he laid the knife on top of the couch.
“We still have a deal, friend?”
He looked at Sandra. “Yes, we still have a deal.”
Sandra grabbed the knife and jammed it into Smith’s stomach, and then put her face an inch away from his.
“That’s for my daughter, for Chrissie,”
Smith sank to his knees, a look of agony on his face. When Sandra gave the blade a hard twist, he cried out loudly and then fell forward onto the knife handle, dead.
Sandra wiped her bloody hand on her pants and then bolted for the door.
“Chrissie!”
He was about to follow her, when he heard a sound come from behind a door on his left.
He ripped the door open, gun at the ready, and found Hof’s woman standing there in a towel, with a shower cap covering her hair. Apparently, she was bathing when it all started.
“Don’t shoot me, please don’t. I’m not part of this. Hof made me watch the children and he made me do... other things... with him.” She loosened the towel and let it drop to the floor, revealing her nakedness. “As you can see, I’m not armed. Let me live and I’ll do anything you want.”
He raised the gun and pointed it at her face.
“Get dressed, get out, if I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.”
She nodded her head emphatically and he turned away to go find Sandra. As he did so, the woman reached up into the shower cap and pulled out a .45 Derringer. She rushed towards him; and the gun was less than a foot from his head when the shot was fired.
He spun around, while nearly falling because of his wounded leg, and watched as the woman dropped to the floor, the gun still gripped in her dead hand.
Jessica entered the room through the same door the woman had, and stared down at the body, a gun hanging at her side.
“She was going to kill you,” she said, and then she dropped the gun and fell into his arms and he held her until the trembling stopped.
***
Sunday, September 3, 8:08 a.m.
In all, there had been seven children at Hof’s, including a four-month-old baby girl.
After scrubbing the place of any sign of their presence, the police received an anonymous tip and the other children were being reunited with their parents, while the authorities scoured Hof’s home for information concerning his clients.
Back at the farm, goodbyes were being said.
Sandra hugged Kari as the younger woman cried.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?”
“Yes, Kari, no one knows that you were involved and now you can get back to your life, and honey, thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me.” Sandra held Chrissie’s small hand in hers and raised it up, to give it a kiss. “And I do mean everything.”
He walked over with help from a cane to support his injured leg.
Sandra released Chrissie’s hand and gave him a hug.
“I can never thank you enough’ sounds like a cliché, but in this case, it’s true.”
He smiled down at Chrissie.
“Just stay safe and take care of your daughter; that will be thanks enough.”
She smiled and then looked around. “Where’s Jessica?”
“She’s in the kitchen.”
“Kari, please take Chrissie to the car and I’ll be right there; I just want to say go
odbye to Jessica.”
She found her near the sink, with arms folded, and wearing a dour expression.
“I know I nearly got your husband killed and I hope you don’t hate me for it, but it was for a good cause, and not just Chrissie, but all those other children too.”
Jessica nodded her head. “Goodbye, Sandra,”
Sandra nodded in return, as she was opening the door to leave; she turned her head.
“I don’t regret what I’ve done, not any of it.”
Jessica stared at her a moment, and then spoke.
“I wasn’t going to tell you this; I haven’t even told my husband yet, but I only found out an hour ago.”
Sandra walked back over by the table.
“Found out what?”
“Friday, before we tracked you down, did you kill a man?”
“Yes, I was trying to get information from another man when a biker type showed up, probably another drug dealer. He pulled a gun on me and I shot him in self-defense.”
“His name was Samuel Roberts; he was an undercover agent for the DEA. He was married, and a father of three young children, two girls and a boy.”
Sandra shook her head as if the very act would make Jessica’s words untrue. She then covered her mouth with her hand and collapsed into a chair, where she wept tears of deep regret.
PART TWO – PAST IMPERFECT
CHAPTER 13
THE PAST
Jessica White was naked and lying spread eagle atop an old mattress, her wrists and ankles bound by rope and tied to a bed. The building he took her to was an abandoned foundry out in the countryside and rain leaked in everywhere. When she screamed, no one would hear her.
While she was still unconscious, he had touched her, explored her perfect flesh as he had so many times before in imagination. Imagination paled when compared to the softness of her breasts and the silky crevice between her thighs.
But then, then as she stared at him with eyes wide with fear, he saw her as the person she was and knew that this was no fantasy, and that once he killed Jessica White, his life would never be the same.
As Jessica White begged for her life, he realized that he was more human than he believed, for despite the bloodlust and carnality that gnawed at him like hunger, he felt pity for her, and something more, love, he loved her.
After reaching over to a table for his knife, he cut her free of the ropes that bound her. He then reached down to the floor, scooped up her clothes, and handed them to her.
“Get dressed and I’ll take you home,” he told her. “And then, and then... I’ll go have a talk with the police.”
Fascination had replaced fear in Jessica White’s eyes, and after dressing, she began talking to him. Conversation led to a connection developing between the nascent serial killer and the future psychiatrist, and soon, a bond had formed.
***
Three days later, and a thousand miles away,
Hanna Jones was naked and lying spread eagle atop an old mattress, her wrists and ankles bound by rope and tied to a bed. The building he took her to was an abandoned factory in the worst part of the city and rain leaked in everywhere. When she screamed, no one would care.
While she was still unconscious, he had touched her, explored her perfect flesh as he had so many times before in imagination. Imagination paled when compared to the softness of her breasts and the silky crevice between her thighs.
But then, then as she stared at him with eyes wide with fear, he saw her as the person she was and knew that this was no fantasy, and that once he killed Hanna Jones, his life would never be the same.
As Hanna Jones begged for her life, he realized that he was even more inhuman than he believed, for in addition to the bloodlust and carnality that gnawed at him like hunger, he also felt no pity for her, and he thought he would when the moment came, but no, he felt not one shred of empathy.
After reaching over to a table for his knife, he cut her. Hysteria replaced fear in Hanna Jones’ eyes and she began bargaining with him, promising him anything in the hope that he would stop cutting her. Conversation led to a connection developing between the nascent serial killer and the future psychologist, and soon, a bond had formed.
***
THE PRESENT
Dr. Hanna Jones smiled as the young woman handed her a low-fat decaf latte with just a sprinkle of cinnamon.
The woman, whose nametag read, Isabella, was gorgeous, and smiled back at Hanna with straight white teeth. After telling Isabella to keep the change, Hanna walked back to her car and made a call.
“Hello, Jeffrey, guess what, baby? I found one.”
“Describe her to me.”
“I’d say about eighteen or nineteen, five-foot-four, a hundred and five pounds with long dark hair and very blue eyes; the breasts are real and I saw no tattoos, even though she was wearing a sleeveless top and a pair of shorts, name: Isabella.”
“Where is she?”
“The coffee shop on Main Street, by the old theater,”
“Are you there now?”
“Yes.”
“Wait for me; I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
***
Two nights later, while walking home from a late shift at the coffee shop, Isabella Barducci came across a woman walking toward her, smiling. The stylish blonde looked familiar to Isabella and a moment later, she recalled where she knew her from.
“Hi, I know you from the coffee shop; you’re the low-fat decaf latte with just a sprinkle of cinnamon, right?”
“That’s right,” Hanna said. “You have a good memory, and look, I’ve something for you.”
A moment later, Hanna zapped her with a stun gun. Before Isabella could fall to the ground, Jeffrey wrapped an arm around her waist and grabbed her.
A couple came around the corner and looked at the three of them and Jeffrey began yelling at Hanna.
“I told you to watch how much she drank; your little sister is nothing but trouble.”
“Just put her in the car, Phil and stop whining, your family is no picnic either you know.”
The man and woman giggled at the bickering pair and walked on. Then, Hanna slid open a side door on a nearby van and Jeffrey carried Isabella over to it and climbed in the back.
After Hanna pulled out into traffic, she watched Jeffrey as he stared down at the stunned and stunning Isabella, and then he held a cloth over Isabella’s face and sent her off to a dreamless sleep.
“Did I do good, baby, or what?”
“You were excellent, you always are,” Jeffrey said.
As she drove, Hanna continued to peek at him in the rear view mirror.
“Why the sad look?”
“I’m bored, there’s just no challenge to this. We’ve been doing this for years and the police aren’t even close to catching us.”
“You want to get caught?”
“No, of course not, but every Moriarty needs his Sherlock; and apparently whoever has been assigned the task of stopping us isn’t up to it.”
“You almost sound as if you want to quit.”
Jeffrey slid a hand inside Isabella’s blouse and caressed her breasts.
“I have no thoughts of stopping; after all, this life does offer certain... perks.”
***
Their first victim was actually a friend of Hanna’s. Delivering her to Jeffrey was the price he demanded to spare Hanna’s life.
Carolyn Haas was a classmate at Randolph High and she and Hanna had known each other since the sixth grade. Carolyn was blonde, big breasted, and a devout Catholic, who had plans to marry her high school sweetheart after graduation.
Jeffrey took her virginity and then her life as Hanna watched. Despite moments of revulsion at what has happening to Carolyn, her fascination with Jeffrey, with his unbridled disregard for the rules of society, ignited something within her that she didn’t know existed.
When Jeffrey had finished with Carolyn, he strode over to Hanna; he was naked, splattered with blood and smiling radi
antly, as he luxuriated over the taking of his first life.
He brought the bloody knife up and pressed the flat of the blade against the underside of Hanna’s chin.
“I want you to find me another one.”
Hanna reached up and eased the knife from Jeffrey’s hand, and he let her, while wondering what would happen next.
Hanna walked over to the bed and stared down at Carolyn.
“She’s really dead, isn’t she?”
He walked over and stood behind her.
“Yes, oh yes,”
Hanna reached out with the knife and pressed the tip into Carolyn’s side, then, with effort, she slid the knife in to the hilt and left it there. Afterward, she turned and smiled at Jeffrey.
“I’ll find you another one, but a stranger, that way; there won’t be a link to us.”
She then reached down and took hold of him, within minutes; they had shoved the corpse to the floor and were making love atop the bloody sheets.
***
Dr. Jessica White kissed her husband goodbye as she got into her car.
“What are your plans today?” she asked.
“I’m going by the dojo. It’s been awhile and I want to get back into a regular training routine.”
“How’s your leg?”
“It’s nearly normal; I ran this morning and felt no pain.”
She beckoned him to lean over and gave him another kiss.
“I’m going to miss you,” she said.
“Me too, but it’s just for the weekend and I think you could use some pampering.”
“You could use some yourself; try to get some rest this weekend. After what we went through last month, we both need some down time.”
The previous month, the doctor and her husband had come to the aid of Sandra Jenkins, a woman desperately trying to find her abducted daughter. When they finally located the little girl, the confrontation that resulted was both bloody and deadly.
He gave her a final kiss and then she placed the car in gear.
“Have fun at the spa.”
She smiled up at him. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said.
Jessica drove off, leaving their property and pulling onto the road. Hours later, she arrived at the spa and entered a world of luxury.
The TAKEN! Series - Books 1-4 (Taken! Box Set) Page 6