Cursed Presence (Trilogy of the Chosen Book 2)

by J. M. LeDuc

  Seven beamed a hundred watt smile. He knew she was the right choice. “Be right back.”

  Ten minutes later, when Jefferson and Fitzpatrick walked through the front door, Charlotte called them over to join the on-going conversation. “Mr. and Mrs. Farrell, I’d like to introduce Malcolm Jefferson and Thomas Fitzpatrick. Gentlemen, these kind people are Mary Ann’s parents.”

  The two men were slightly taken aback to see Charlotte had taken the lead and Seven perfectly at ease with the situation.

  “Mrs. Farrell—Patricia thinks it best if only one of us speaks to Mary Ann. Too many strangers make her nervous. Seven agrees, but I feel at least two of us should go in. What do you think?” She looked at Malcolm and Fitz, wide-open eyes conveying the unspoken, “I need your help, guys.”

  “I understand your concern, Patricia,” Jefferson said as soothing ‘Barry White’ voice. “We have found that an interviewer engaged in a conversation of such a sensitive nature, concerned about careful word phrasing, can miss important facts and nuances. The second person will pick up on things the first interviewer doesn’t catch.

  “I have a brother,” he continued, “who suffers from Multiple Personality Disorder, and although that’s not Mary Ann’s situation, certain social phobia issues present themselves in both cases. I’ve found in the case of my brother that the method I just described works well.”

  The mention of the brother had a calming effect on Patricia Farrell. She agreed to allow two people to accompany her into her daughter’s room.

  “If it’s all right with you, ma’am,” Seven said in his best non-Southern drawl, “I would like to choose which two of us go with you.”

  “And who would you suggest, Mr. Oliver?”

  Jefferson and Fitz looked at each other as if to say, “Mr. Oliver?”

  “I’ll be the primary interviewer and Miss Du…Charlotte, will accompany me.”

  He knew he’d come close to exposing Charlotte’s identity. I need to be more careful. It’s easy to forget who her father is, he thought. I really need to find a new name for her. In the few seconds he waited for Patricia Farrell’s answer, he thought, Scarlett. We’ll call her Scarlett, as in Will Scarlett of Robin Hood fame. With her expertise with a bow, it’s perfect.

  “Very well. If you will wait here a moment, I’ll check with her private nurse to see if she’s in any condition to receive guests.”

  They all nodded. Out of respect for Mrs. Farrell, the men stood when she got up.

  “You’ll have to excuse my wife if she seems overprotective,” Terrence Farrell said. “We’ve been through more than you can possible imagine, and she’s become skeptical of most peoples’ motives.”

  Charlotte placed her hand in a compassionate gesture on top of his forearm.

  “There’s no need for explanation, Terrence. Under the circumstances, I think both of you are doing extremely well.” She removed her hand and the look on her face was one that could only have come from someone who knew exactly what their daughter had been through.

  “All right,” Patricia said, returning to the group. “Her nurse says this would be a good time to make the introductions. If you’ll follow me. Misters Jefferson and Fitzpatrick, you can watch from the security desk. Before you witness for yourself my daughter’s behavior, allow me to add one more thing.

  “I’m not optimistic that you’ll get any useful information, or gain any knowledge by talking to Mary Ann that the world’s most eminent psychologists and psychiatrists haven’t been able to obtain. Truth be known, the only reason I’ve agreed to this is because Chief Roberts recommended you.” She looked at each member of the squad, holding each one’s gaze before moving to the next one.

  “Chief Roberts would not tell me who you are or who you represent. He just asked me to trust him. Trust, gentlemen and Miss Charlotte, is something I have in very short supply. Please don’t drain that supply from me.”

  “I can assure you, Mrs. Farrell, that is not our intention,” Seven said, as he and the group walked towards the ward.

  The patient ward looked more like a high-end condominium complex than a suite in a medical institution. Mary Ann’s mother knocked on the door before she opened it.

  “Hello, sweetie. Mary Ann, its Mommy. I have a friend with me that I’d like you to meet.”

  Charlotte immediately walked to the far end of the room and removed one of her earplugs, replacing it with an earpiece so she’d be able to stay in constant communication with Jefferson and Fitz.

  From his location outside the room, Fitz murmured, “Atta, girl. She’s good.” He nodded, not wanting to take his eyes off the screen.

  “Charlotte,” he said through the mike, “we have a 360-degree view of the entire room. Don’t worry if you can’t see Seven’s eyes. If we see any change, we’ll notify you right away.”

  Charlotte nodded.

  Standing at the opposite end of the room was a beautiful young woman. When she saw her mother and Seven, her smile was replaced with pouting lips.

  “When you said you had a friend with you, I thought you’d brought Liz.”

  Seven immediately picked up on how uncomfortable Mrs. Farrell became at the mention of the name.

  Instead of addressing her daughter’s comment, she said, “Sweetheart, this is Mr. Oliver. He’s a friend of Chief Roberts. He’d like a chance to talk to you, if that’s all right with you.” Patricia Farrell stood rooted to the floor, awaiting the worst. She would have bet her sizable estate that her daughter would throw a tantrum.

  Momentarily, Mary Ann, blond and statuesque, looked as though she would make her mother’s bet a reality. Instead, she shifted her gaze to Seven and a knowing smile spread across her face. “I would like that very much,” she said.

  Stunned by that response, Patricia breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m going to make us a cup of tea and some finger sandwiches while the two of you get acquainted.” She headed into the kitchen, more at ease than she could have thought possible.

  Mary Ann wore an Irish knit sweater with a corduroy skirt that fell just below the knee. Her only jewelry was a double string of pearls and matching stud earrings. She couldn’t have appeared more old New England money if she’d tried.

  Her appearance put Seven at ease. Her smile and smooth, flowing movements caused him to drop his guard. He lost the mindset of an interrogator.

  Mary Ann took a seat next to him. Within seconds of sitting down, she moved closer to him. “Mr. Oliver,” she said, smiling and extending her hand, “it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  He accepted her hand and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Did you say that we had met before?”

  When he looked up from the handshake, he looked into the eyes of Satan.

  Mary Ann slithered closer to him and whispered, in a guttural, hellish rasp, “It’s my time. Your time is over.”

  Seven reached for his handgun.

  Five minutes later, Mrs. Farrell walked out of the kitchen with a tray full of finger sandwiches and stopped dead on the spot. She dropped the tray and opened her mouth to scream. On the floor lay a body that appeared to be dead. All three Phantom Squad members were bent over him. In the corner stood her daughter, foaming at the mouth, ripping at her clothing, growling gibberish over and over. Before Patricia could make a sound, Fitz plugged her with a tranquilizing dart.

  “Why haven’t the guards come in?” Charlotte asked.

  “Tagged and bagged,” Jefferson said, meaning they’d tranquilized, tied and gagged them. “When we saw what went down in here, we didn’t think we had a choice.”

  “Our one and only choice now is to do as the Colonel ordered,” Jefferson said. He pulled his weapon and fired two darts, this time into Mary Ann Farrell’s neck.

  Fitz caught her before she hit the floor. “Out cold, Sergeant.”

  “Good. Tie, blind and shut her up. How�
��s Seven doing, Dupree?”

  “Sleeping like a baby,” she answered. “How are we supposed to get out of here?”

  “Here’s where the fun starts,” Jefferson said. “I hope you’re as strong as you seemed during training.”

  “I can hold my own. What do you have in mind?”

  “I figure we have ten, fifteen minutes tops, before either the guards or someone else comes in here to check on our guest of honor. We have to move quick.” He reached into his back pocket and tossed her a full-faced black mask. “Put this on.”

  Charlotte saw him pull a black ski mask down over his face. There were no holes cut out for eyes.

  “How are we supposed to see out of this?” she asked.

  “This is no time for questions. Put it on and do as I say.”

  After she pulled hers on, she realized she could see out of the material.

  “Fitz, drive the SUV around to the service entrance. Lay the third row of seats down. We’re gonna need the room.”

  Fitz nodded and left the suite.

  “Charlotte, you’re gonna have to fireman-carry the demon-child. Your other hand has to be free to hold your weapon. You’ll hear a lot of screaming as we pass people in the hall. Don’t say a word and don’t fire your weapon unless you’re physically threatened. Use it to keep everyone at bay.” Jefferson reached down to pick up Seven. “Got it?”

  “Got it,” she answered. She adjusted Mary Ann’s body so the weight was more evenly distributed and drew her pistol.

  “We walk out of here, calm and collected, no running, talking or waving that gun around. Whoever we run into will feed off our actions. The calmer we are, the calmer they’ll be.” Jefferson looked at Charlotte. “All right, let’s move out.” He opened the door, and stepped into the hallway.

  He looked to his right and spotted the service entrance sign and moved in that direction. Charlotte followed close behind. Her heart beat a mile a minute while she surveyed her surroundings.

  Staff members and visitors saw two masked individuals carrying what looked like two dead bodies. They screamed, as Jefferson said they would. Charlotte tried to shut out the noise and stay in the moment.

  To her left, she heard a male voice say, “Call 9-1-1.” Charlotte saw the receptionist pick up the phone receiver to do as she’d been told. Jefferson stopped, looked at her and waved his gun in her direction as if to say, “I wouldn’t do that.” She immediately let go of the phone and stepped away from the desk.

  As the squad members made their way toward the service exit, the crowd of onlookers grew larger. Jefferson kicked the handle on the service door to open it. The cold autumn air rushed at Charlotte and slapped her back into reality. She still heard the frantic screaming and looked over her shoulder to see people rushing around like rats in a maze.

  Fitz jumped from the SUV’s driver’s side, mask on and gun drawn. He ran to the back of the vehicle and opened the rear door. Both Jefferson and Charlotte momentarily put their weapons down to maneuver the bodies more safely. As they slid Seven and Mary Ann into the back end, two security guards ran towards them from the side of the building, guns pointed at the trio. Without flinching, Fitz sent a tranquilizer dart into each man’s shoulder. They dropped in near precision and so fast that onlookers screamed that they’d been killed.

  Fritz got in the driver’s seat. Jefferson rode shotgun. Charlotte climbed into the seat behind Fitz. From the corner of his eye, Jefferson saw Charlotte about to remove her mask. “Leave it on, soldier, this mission has just begun.”

  CHAPTER 51

  Malcolm grabbed his sat phone to call headquarters. Joan picked up before it had completed the first ring.

  “What’s your status?’ she answered so as not to give away their mission and location.

  “Red, repeat, status is red.”

  Maddie came on the line. “We need specifics and how we can help.”

  “We had to knock out both our subject and the commander. She’s bagged and tagged. He’s sleeping like a baby. We’re in a vehicle, plate number CTS23V. We need an all-state stand down of every law enforcement agency, city, state and fed. Otherwise, they’ll be on us in five minutes and it’ll get messy.”

  Maddie looked at Joan who was already on the request. “Tech support is filling the request. Anything else we can help with?”

  “Pray,” Malcolm said before he disconnected.

  His next call was to Q. Again, response time to the emergency frequency was nil. “Q here.”

  “Change of plans, buddy. Where’s the nearest field to Ashland?”

  “Hold on, I’ll see…the closest one is Hopkinton, but it’s tight, very tight!”

  “It’ll have to do. We’ve got flies all over us. How quick can you get there?”

  “ETA in thirty. It’ll take you forty-five.”

  Malcolm looked at Fitz. He nodded. “See you in thirty. Punch in the coordinates and we’ll GPS the sucker.”

  Seconds later, the coordinates to the airfield showed up on his phone. He punched them into the sat phone’s GPS and quickly received directions.

  “Take a left up ahead at the next light and follow that road for fifteen miles. Then we’ll take a right when we see the sign for Hopkinton.”

  “We’ve got trouble,” Charlotte said.

  Jefferson turned to look. “Looks like the local department didn’t get the all stand down broadcast.”

  “Or they’re ignoring it,” Fitz said.

  “Why would they do that?” Charlotte asked.

  “Cause everybody wants to be a hero,” he replied.

  “Yep, in a small town there’s no better way of getting chicks than by being a hero,” Malcolm said.

  “Men, I swear,” Charlotte said, exasperated. “Penises should be like guns. You should have to take classes and pass a test before you’re allowed to carry one, let alone use one.”

  “I think the estrogen is about to boil over,” Fitz said.

  Just then, they heard gunshots behind them.

  “I’ll show you what a little estrogen can do,” she said and unpacked her bow.

  “What do you have in mind?” Jefferson asked. “The Colonel made it very clear that this is a no-kill mission.”

  “We definitely can’t outrun them, so we have to stop them.”

  “Hold on,” Fitz yelled and cranked the steering wheel sharp right. “Ten more miles to go. Do something or Barney Fife’s going to act stupid, like shoot us.”

  “Open the sun roof,” Charlotte said. “When I tell you to, jam on the brakes hard for five seconds and then floor it.”

  “No kill, Charlotte.”

  “The only thing I’m going to kill is the car battery, Sergeant.”

  As she spoke, more shots rang out. Charlotte was being tossed all over the back seat while Fitz swerved on the road, trying to prevent the Keystone Cops from getting a clear shot.

  “Most service pistols have a ten-shot clip and that was eight,” Jefferson said.

  Charlotte pulled an arrow from her case. She chose an arrowhead and as she screwed it in place, the rear window shattered from a gunshot.

  “Damn, that was close,” Jefferson yelled. “Anyone hurt?”

  “I’m good,” Charlotte answered, again dragging herself off the floor.

  “Ditto,” Fitz said, “but we can’t wait for them to empty their guns.”

  “With the back windshield gone, we don’t need the sun roof. Sarge, reach back and grab me around the waist. Steady me when we hit the brakes.”

  Jefferson turned himself around and put his huge hands on Charlotte’s small hips.

  “Let’s do this,” he yelled.

  “On three,” Charlotte said and ducked behind the seat, bow in hand. “One, two, three.”

  Fitz hit the brakes as hard as he could. The squealing of the tires and the smell and
smoke from the rubber made it hard to see out the back. Jefferson gripped Charlotte tight while, in one fluid motion, she popped up from her kneeling position and drew the arrow back. When she let go, all three of them heard the bowstring’s twang.

  Then they heard an explosion. By the time Fitz punched the gas, the smoke had cleared enough for them to see a disabled police cruiser. It sat in the middle of the road, engine smoking. The hood was nowhere to be seen.

  “What was that?” Fitz yelled, too busy driving like a maniac to look back.

  “It seems our sister here just stopped the local force from doing something they would have lived to regret.”

  “Yeah, but the noise?”

  “I put a titanium-tipped arrow through the radiator and into the battery of the car.

  It was frosted with a very small amount of plastique, just to be sure. That was the ‘boom’ you heard. I guess it carried a little more wallop than I’d figured. It blew the hood clean off the car.”

  “And how about…?”

  “The boys are fine,” Jefferson said. “I saw them get out of the car.”

  Five minutes later, they made their way down a dirt road, if it could be called a road. It was more like a rutted cow path, barely wide enough to maneuver through. It was full of twists and turns and trees were thick on both sides. None of them had any idea where they were or when the road would end.

  “I pray the GPS is accurate,” Charlotte said, as she was tossed all over the back seat.

  Just then, the road opened up and Q’s jet lay in front of them.

  Also in front of them sat what appeared to be at least twenty state and local police vehicles. All of the officers were crouched low behind their vehicles, guns aimed at the SUV and its passengers as they emerged from the trees.

  “Now what?” Charlotte asked.

  “Now we hope they all received the stand down from their superiors. We pull up to the jet and get out as if they weren’t here. We stay black.”

  Charlotte nodded and understood she was to keep her mask on. Quickly, she put her bow away.