by Joe Conlan
“Well, I can’t see you. Get me outta here.”
Daniel cut the twine binding Annie’s wrists and ankles to the bedposts then helped her get out of the bed.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
“I think so.” She took a few steps holding onto Daniel to confirm her answer. Her legs were a bit wobbly, but with a little assistance she thought she could make it.
“Just hold onto me. I’ll be fine,” she said.
“We need to get you out of here. Now.”
“Where’s Drysdale?”
“We don’t have time to waste. I’ll explain everything later. We need to hurry.”
“I just don’t want him to get away.”
“There are others. At least I hope. I want to get you to safety. There are FBI vehicles parked on the street along the front of the property half a mile down the road from the gate. Do you think you can make it or should I carry you?”
“I’ll do my best. I’ll let you know if I have to jump on your back.”
Daniel placed his right arm around Annie’s upper back and hooked his hand under her right armpit. Holding her steady, he helped her descend the stairs and make it to the front door. He reached for the knob and turned it as a third barrage of gunfire erupted.
Special Agent in Charge Robert Leland was trying not to panic. His armored van was located approximately three quarters of a mile from the cabin on the western boundary of the property. He was receiving images from all of the thermal scanners and updates at twenty second intervals up until all hell broke loose. The maniac had taken them by surprise. Since the initial gunfire, he was unable to communicate with anyone out in the field. His only companion was an equipment tech who was maintaining the machinery. Every fifteen seconds he would attempt to establish contact with anyone who would respond to no avail. He heard rapid gunfire at least twice since the team took their first position. He thought about leaving the van to offer assistance then reconsidered figuring he could be a sitting duck.
There had been no gunfire for more than five minutes. Leland was hoping the team had gotten things under control. He turned toward the monitors to see if the images were back up when he noticed on the video screen one of the agents racing toward the backdoor of the van. Seconds later there was a burst of frantic knocking. In a muted voice he heard, “Leland, open the fuck’n door. Hurry. It’s Frye. He’s out here somewhere.”
Leland looked at his monitor again. Frye was wearing a mask to protect himself from the cold and carrying one of the FBI issued rifles. As far as Leland could tell, it was his colleague. Pressed to make a choice, Leland feared taking the time to ask too many questions could get Frye killed. He didn’t want to make a hasty decision that would put him in danger either. For a brief instant he contemplated that it might not be so bad to be rid of Frye. The hitch was that Mancini also knew of the Carol City murders and Frye could have spoken to a number of his buddies. The idea was crazy anyway.
Leland wouldn’t live long to regret his decision. He unlocked and opened the door. The man he assumed was Frye jumped into the van pointing the semi-automatic rifle directly at the team leader’s forehead. He shut the door to the van behind him, locked it then took his mask off revealing his true identity. Shem was well aware of the names of the agents investigating the Drysdale murders through the many newspaper articles he had read and television reports he had seen. His guess that Leland was in the command center turned out to be spot- on.
Leland tried to negotiate with the psychopathic killer, only to be ordered to shut his mouth if he didn’t want to lose his head. Alternating his aim of the rifle between Leland and the equipment technician, Shem first tied Leland to his chair with rope he brought from the house then the tech. When both men were secure, he removed a hammer from his utility belt and smashed every piece of equipment in the van. A familiar sensation in his loins was stimulated by the horrified look in their eyes, but he couldn’t waste too much time here. There were still other goals to accomplish before the night was over. He pulled a hunter’s knife from a sheath tied around his calf. It glimmered as he held it up in the light of the van. He slit the throat of the equipment tech first. Blood squirted across the vehicle dousing the already destroyed equipment. Next, he turned to Leland. The new Special Agent in Charge tried to beg for his life though his expression was resigned. Shem just laughed and stuck the knife upward through his right eye, into his brain, killing him instantly.
Daniel had waited until ten minutes had passed since the last gunfire to give the go-ahead to make a run for the front of the property. Before they had a chance to open the front door, he heard a crackle in his ear piece then the voice of James Mancini.
“Does anyone read me?”
“James, it’s Daniel. Can you hear me?”
“Thank the Lord, Daniel, am I glad to hear your voice. It’s a fuck’n mess out here. The son of a bitch opened fire execution style. I don’t know how many other survivors there are. Right now, Frye and I are trapped at the command center. We had to find cover. We were dead ducks while he was using us as target practice. Leland and the systems operator are dead. The prick is relentless. He slit the kid’s throat. Leland has a knife sticking out of his eye.”
“Holy shit. How could this have gotten so fucked up? God damnit.” Daniel took a moment then informed Mancini, “I have Annie here with me. I was just about to try to get her out of here. Is the unsub still out there?”
“I have no clue. He hasn’t fired at us since we were able to get into the trailer. It’s been about ten minutes.”
“We can’t leave you alone. I’m gonna have Annie wait in the cabin while I come out there to see what I can do.”
“Like hell you are,” Annie snapped. “You’re not leaving me here. I know how to fire an assault rifle. I can help. You could use my help. I want the bastard just as much as you do, Daniel.”
“We’re on our way back there, James. Hold him off. Between the four of us, maybe we can kill the fucker.”
After Shem Chassar murdered Leland and the equipment tech, he had taken a position in the woods within firing distance of the command center. Things were starting to get out of hand. He was outnumbered now and they knew his location. Besides Annie and the agent, five other agents survived his attack and they were now joining forces against him. He felt he had done just about all he could do. He was able to gun down most of the intruders. They had the upper hand now. His last chance to escape with his life was rapidly disappearing. There was one item left to check off his to do list before he made his getaway. The night vision, laser sight of his AK-47 was trained on the center of Daniel’s forehead as he and several other armed agents approached the command center. Shem’s brain was a fraction of a second from sending the signal to his finger to apply pressure to the trigger when a round of rapid fire from Annie’s assault rifle whizzed by his left ear. Startled into a moment’s hesitation, it provided just enough of an opening for a second round to strike his weapon sending the ten pound rifle flying out of his hands and causing the barrel to strike him between the eyes with significant force. If he hadn’t been knocked to the ground, the next round would have struck him in the center of his heart.
When he regained his senses, he picked up his rifle and saw it was damaged beyond repair. Even though he was sure he could no longer prevail, he had delayed his escape so that Annie could watch when he blew his arch rival’s head off. It wouldn’t be possible now that he no longer had the element of surprise on his side and his rifle was rendered useless. One way or another, the agent’s day of reckoning would come. It just wasn’t going to happen that night.
There was no time to feel sorry for himself about the unfortunate events of the evening. They were only one-hundred and fifty yards away and closing in on him. The next rounds fired from their weapons would surely hit their mark. He disappeared onto one of the thousands of wildlife trails bordering his property. They would give chase, but would never find him. He knew these trails like the back of his hand. Twent
y miles southwest of his property, he parked his Jeep on a secluded back road in the event an emergency escape was necessary. It was packed with supplies that would last for weeks. By morning, he would be well on his way to his next destination.
Epilogue
There wasn’t a time when Daniel could remember having a more severe case of the butterflies. It had been many months since the last time he lived with the boys. He was nervous about how they’d receive him. He pulled his Crown Victoria into the parking space in front of his Hallandale Beach condominium, his hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel. As was their custom, the boys attacked their Dad before he could get out of his car. It was a very welcome assault and the perfect cure for his nervous stomach.
The condo would hold many memories of Deborah he was sure at times would cause him overwhelming heartache. He had finally agreed to see an FBI therapist and was working hard on his guilt issues. If the boys wanted to stay in the home where they were raised by their mother, Daniel wasn’t about to deny them. His life would be very different now as a single parent. For the time being, he decided he would return to the Miami field office, but rejected the offer to resume his position as Special Agent in Charge. His passion had always been to solve crimes and put the bad guys behind bars. He felt at home again when Quantico granted his request to work murders in the criminal division. His goal was to hone up on his serial murderer profiling skills. The unfortunate reality that the monster got away was much more than a travesty of justice for Daniel. The name he used to purchase the cabin in North Carolina proved to be just another false identity. The unsub was still just that- a man without a name. Although he would give all of his cases their due attention, he made a private commitment to himself and his children. The day would come when the maniac who slaughtered his wife and in-laws would pay for his crimes.
Now that he was with his children for the first time since his imprisonment, it wasn’t the time for dark thoughts. It was cause for celebration. The guests would be arriving shortly for his welcome home party Annie planned for him. When he walked into the living room with the boys clinging to his sides, it was great to see his mother, brothers, Mrs. Bryan, and Annie waiting for him to begin the festivities. Today, he wasn’t going to allow his absent father to spoil the party.
March had come in like a lion with a blast of arctic air that chilled to the bone. Shem Chassar chose this place exactly for that reason. He wanted it to be cold year-round. The wintery, crisp air would keep him awake and alert and help him never make the same mistakes again. He was a fool to obsess over a woman. There wasn’t a female on the face of the earth who deserved his attention. They were all a bunch of useless, filthy whores. They were objects, nothing more than play toys to use or abuse as he saw fit.
From this point on, he would practice his art without restraint. He had beaten the best the FBI could offer. There was no one who could stop him. Moderation would not be a part of his vocabulary, though his number one mission in life was revenge. Every last one of them would pay in ways they could never imagine. There would be suffering beyond human comprehension. When he was through with them, his story would go down in history. He would start with the agent’s boys and family members, and then collect his dues from Annie, saving the agent for last. Patience, as always, was the key. It was what he’d lost when he let himself get involved with the foolish sexual attraction. That wouldn’t happen again. Their worst nightmares would be realized when they least expected it.