Into the Breach

by Lottie M. Hancock

Senator Brandt's eyes widened and she gasped. "You will let her wake up?"

  "Why, of course!" Suddenly, Sally's monitors spiked as she tried to take a deep breath and twitch her hands.

  "Oh, my God!" exclaimed Stephanie as she dove for Sally's side and took her hand in hers. "Sally? Sally baby, wake up! Its Mama." The color drained from her face as the monitors returned to where they had been and Sally's movements ceased. "You bastard!" she declared over the phone.

  "I probably am, dear Senator. However, that does not change the situation at hand. Did you think that by calling in angels that I would just go away or let your daughter go? No. I think you are smarter than that. One thing you did accomplish was that I won't make her sleep as long as the others. No. Another night or two will end this."

  "How?" Tears rolled down her face, splashing on the ground.

  "The day after tomorrow is Monday. You have gone before the floor of constituents and lawmakers to plead the case for your bill. Monday it comes for a vote, correct?"

  "Yes, but I'm not leaving my daughter."

  "Ah, but you must," mocked the shadowed voice. "Monday you will go to the vote, but you will vote against your bill."

  "You’re out of your mind!"

  "Perhaps, but not only will you vote against it, you will have a press conference directly afterward explaining that the bill was wrong and should have never made it to the floor. If you do, you will have your precious daughter back with you, safe and sound."

  "And if I don't?"

  "It all ends Monday night, one way or another..." the caller trailed off with a whimsical tone as he hung up, leaving everyone speechless.

  Sam, Drew, and Faith walked back down to the parking garage of Massachusetts General Hospital in silence. Drew didn't feel right about leaving the senator after such a devastating call, but Michael assured them that he would not leave her. The garage was empty as it was close to eight, and their footsteps echoed on the pavement. The ominous sounds it produced fell in place with the darker thoughts that the trio shared. The men walked Faith to her car first although she could easily take care of herself, as she had protested earlier.

  "My Mama would come back to haunt me if I let you go to your car alone, and you know it," the chief jested.

  "I suppose your right. You could use a good lecture once in a while, so the rest of us feel like your human, you know." Drew shrugged and grinned.

  "What is your assessment of the situation, Faith?" Drew asked as she unlocked her coupe. She took a deep breath and thought carefully.

  "I'm not sure, Chief. What does this guy have to gain from the blackmailing? Why doesn't he just off them like I am sure he has done in the past?"

  "Making a couple split up, killing an arms bill and bankrupting a C.E.O." added Sam. "Do your demons usually pick on people or is this one just a jackass?"

  "Yeah, demons love to mess with the minds of humans and this one is a jackass," answered Drew. "If it is a raptor like the padre says then he has had a few centuries to practice."

  "A raptor?" Faith's eyes widened fearfully. "This guy's a raptor? Are you sure?"

  "Father Donovan seems to think so. We talked to him this morning."

  "So you got to meet the padre, huh?" inquired the girl. "Not bad looking for a 1,500-year-old man, is he?" Faith giggled anxiously.

  "It's somethin'," answered Sam, looking down at his feet. There was so much to take in and the more he thought about it, the more confused he became. The only way he could fathom what was happening was to treat this perp just like any other serial out there and nail him to a wall.

  Faith got into her car and the men watched her pull out. She, on the other hand, still did not feel safe. She pulled out onto Cambridge Street aware of every shadow and every light. He was out there, probably watching her and her team at that very moment. Raptors stayed invisible for the most part, only showing themselves vaguely to some. They were monsters, but they loved to be noticed, like greedy children who announced when they did something wrong just to see the reactions.

  Faith's mother could see them. Of course, she didn't find that out until after she got killed, and it didn't help stop the fury that she felt. Their home was in shambles. Blood was everywhere. Her mother was not like her, but the demon knew she could see it somehow.

  "She wasn't a threat! Why did it kill her?!" Faith screamed at the priest as he tried in vain to hold her. The police were there and took her rantings as a teenager who just lost her mother. Father Donovan had known better.

  Evona Sullivan had the sight. That is what the people who knew her best had always said. She could tell them when something was going to happen and like clockwork, it always did. Seeing was not like what Faith did, so this was an enigma to her. Her mom was the only thing that kept her sane growing up in a dark world, and she had often wondered if her mother had foreseen her own death and had kept it to herself.

  She stared up at her apartment building as she did every night, uncertain how she managed to drive on autopilot. The thoughts would plague her sleep that night, she was sure, but she would still have to climb the dark staircase up to her floor as always. She would still have to try to sleep, regardless of how much or how little it accomplished and she would still start the next day as if she would stop the next monster from hurting anyone else. Step one, as was every other night, was to open the car door.

  14

  S eptember always brought out the best weather in Boston, according to the locals. The leaves on the trees had just begun to turn the lustrous colors of orange, red and yellow that New England was known for, and the air was crisp. Faith was the first of her shift to report in at the Boston Police Department A1 that morning. This was not unusual for her as she was often awake early. The 6 a.m. jolt of coffee was strong, although not strong enough for the insomniac. Her night was plagued with visions of her friend lying in the hospital bed and then torn to shreds as she had seen her mother and so many others. She greeted officers from the door to her desk in unconscious automation and checked her messages. There was a call from her dad. No need to call back, it said, just checking in. Bah! He never called just to check in. He was just as lonely as she was. A thousand miles or so away, Enid Sullivan would always think of her as his little girl that he needed to take care of. He never got over the death of her mother and being in Scotland didn't dull the pain of her passing. Guilt will always be a deadly companion.

  A yellow sticky note with the words “Chief’s office!” was on her desktop monitor. Glory be, she thought as she rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. Did that man ever sleep? Faith crumpled the note and tossed it in her wastebasket as she stood up and walked to the office. She knocked lightly on his door. The blinds were drawn and she silently hoped that he wasn't yet in. Unfortunately, she heard his morning gruff voice bidding her to enter. As Faith stepped into the office, Sam stepped in behind her, apparently called in as well.

  "Sit down, detectives," began the chief. "We have quite a bit to go over before morning briefing starts."

  Sam and Faith took their seats and accepted the file folders. There were ten files for ten comas. The word "DECEASED" was stamped in red on six of them. It was a morbid reminder of not seeing the whole picture until it was too late.

  "The two new comas worry the Hell out of me," the chief admitted. "If this thing worked at this pace in the past, we would have thought a full-blown plague was in our midst. He is stepping up his game."

  "But why would he?" Sam rubbed his eyes, yawning.

  "Raptors love attention, for one thing," answered Faith.

  "Yeah, they do, but not like this. Something has changed. Until we find out, its business as usual. Sam, I need you and Faith going over these files with a fine-tooth comb. If there is anything that can shed some light on this, I need to know.

  Sam and Faith took the files and headed out to Sam's desk. He hadn't spent ten minutes there since his arrival in Boston a week prior and it still looked empty. There were no pictures, notes, or personal memorabilia on
the desk surface. He sat down in the wooden swivel chair while Faith took the chair on the opposite side.

  Splitting the files in half, the detectives began reading over each case, page by page. They began with the deaths. The victims were different demographics. The task of finding connections and commonalities that would single each one out for these attacks were tedious at best. Barton, Clarence, grocery store owner. Dead. Salma, Unice, housekeeper. Dead. Parsons, Margaret, housewife. Dead. Sam stopped there. Something sounded familiar.

  "Parsons, Parsons," Sam thought out loud. Revelation came and he sat up straight in his chair, quickly typing on his computer. "Well, I'll be damned."

  "What is it?"

  "Margaret Parsons is the wife of that driver who crashed into the Red-Line." Sam looked closer at Mrs. Parsons's death certificate. Time of death: 09:26 AM. "According to this, she died about the same time that her husband did."

  "Didn't you say that he was dead when he hit the train?" Faith's interest piqued and he could see that the gears were spinning in her mind. She was on the verge of making a connection.

  "Yeah. The coroner said he had to have been. It's time to talk to the chief. We have another victim."

  The wind that had met him coming into the station that morning had subsided to a slight breeze. A few leaves skittered across the sidewalks as Sam walked up New Sudbury Street and rounded the corner onto Congress. His mind was going in ten different directions. He had been connected to this case from day one with the accident at the intersection and never knew it. Was the driver's death caused by this so-called raptor? Indirectly, most definitely. Directly? This raptor could have done it, if all this were true about how he attacks. But that was the deal, wasn't it? Sam thought as he watched his shadow shorten along the cobblestone walk. If all this were true, he could have easily taken, or even consumed, Parsons's soul while he was driving. That would explain how he died before hitting the train.

  Sam couldn't believe his own thinking. Harboring the idea that this perp was an actual demon of some kind qualified him for the local sanitarium. He trusted Drew. Hell, he even trusted his new partner. They believed wholeheartedly in all of this. Sam found himself standing in the middle of the crosswalk of Congress and Union Park Street. If he didn't start focusing on his surroundings, he would be laying on one of those sterile tables in Dr. Stone's morgue.

  Somehow, deep in his thoughts, he had almost passed a beautiful park. Standing safely at the corner, looking over at the clean trimmed grass and colorful trees, Sam took a deep breath. This perp was getting to him and he was letting him.

  "Are you alright?" Sam jumped, startled by the sudden voice behind him. There stood an angel that he could easily believe in. Lisa had a concerned smile on her face.

  "Hey, um, yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking. What are you doing out here?"

  "I just got off the bus at State Station. I live just a few blocks from here." The breeze swept her bangs across her face and Sam realized he had been staring at her.

  "I see," Sam decided to save face. "Would you like to take a walk with me?" Sam gestured apprehensively toward the park.

  "Sure, I was going that way." She surprised him by saying yes so easily. He had never been a very smooth talker and when he was around Lisa, he found he could barely speak at all. His heart rebelling on him was the last thing he needed. This case should have been his entire focus, and yet, he fell in place beside her as they began to stroll across the already brittle grass toward the scattering of trees and park benches.

  Awkwardly at first, soon he was chatting idly about New York, Boston, high school and anything that she would draw out of him. This was the most relaxed he had been in days and he relished it. There were very few people in the park. There was a couple with their Labrador and the man was trying to get the dog to chase a Frisbee without letting it go. The dog was smarter than that and didn't fall for the ruse. Two old men were sitting quietly playing checkers while on a neighboring bench sat a dark haired man in a trench coat, much like Sam's, and wearing a Panama hat. He nodded to the couple and smiled as they passed by him.

  "How do you like Boston so far?" Lisa asked.

  "So far?" Sam rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "So far it’s been interesting."

  "Interesting?"

  "Yeah, it’s been all work since I got here so I haven't got a chance to do much else." Sam spotted a vendor near the middle of the park and led her by the elbow. He hadn't eaten since the night before and he was famished. At least hot dogs were universal, he thought as he indicated to the man that they wanted two.

  "Well, there is a lot more to Boston than work. We will just have to make sure you see some of it soon." Lisa smiled sweetly at Sam as he fixed their dogs and handed her one. She could tell Sam was nervous. "If you don't learn to relax soon you will end up sick."

  "Yeah, I get wound up sometimes," Sam admitted. "This case I'm on has me in knots, to be honest."

  "Can you tell me about it?"

  "Wish I could, but," Sam shrugged. He breathed in deeply and looked around. The park wasn't large like Central Park, but it was laid out nicely. There was a playground for the little kids and parents were helping their toddler down the metal slide. This was the hometown America that he had always read about, but it was like an alien world compared to the Bronx. "The people here can grow on a person, you know?"

  "I would hope we could." Lisa soft glance made him want to reach out and touch her, but he reminded himself that there was a time and place for everything, and standing in a public park in fifty-degree weather wasn't it. They walked slowly while they ate and she pointed out the last of the lingering flowers. Two kids ran passed them giggling and got them laughing as well. The meeting in the chief's office seemed like it happened days ago instead of an hour prior. Lisa had that way about her.

  Up ahead, a gentleman was walking down a neighboring path toward them and tipped his hat. Sam thought he had seemed familiar but brushed it off as paranoia, and nodded back. They came across another play area equipped with swings and Sam raised an inquiring eyebrow to Lisa.

  "Why not?" she giggled, and picked a middle swing. Sam gently pushed her. He couldn't remember when the last time he had swung anyone on a swing before, but it didn't matter. He needed this distraction. The street was visible from where they were and he knew that their walk would be ending soon. Lisa noticed his mood change.

  "What's wrong?" she asked as she stopped swinging.

  "Nothing. Really," Sam smiled. She obviously didn't believe him, but accepted his answer and they started walking once again.

  "I live over on Clinton if you want to walk me home." Lisa looked more at the street than at him.

  "Sounds like a good plan to me," Sam responded, unsuccessfully holding back a grin. Lisa was a jewel and he was never one to take advantage of someone so special. He would walk her home because he knew that that was all she expected from him.

  There were some people standing at the corner waiting to cross the street from the serenity of the park back into the rest of the world. Sam spotted a man that wasn't facing the street. He had the same trench coat and Panama hat as the man at the other end of the park and, as Sam now realized, the man on the path. It had to be the same man, yet there was no way possible that he was always ahead of them. A chill ran down Sam's spine and he stopped walking. He didn't want to attract the man's attention. Not with Lisa and these innocent people so close by. Sam took Lisa by the hand and turned her around to face him. Surprised, she knew that his facial expression, along with the sentimental gesture, didn't match the fear in his eyes, that there was something terribly wrong.

  "Sam?"

  "Smile. Just smile like there isn't a care in the world except walking in the park, okay? Smile." She obeyed, her lips trembling. "As far as anyone looking can tell, we are just a couple about to say goodbye at lunch and going different ways. Understand?" Sam raised his eyebrows. He hated that she was scared, but there was no other way to ensure her safety. He hoped that she
would continue to play along long enough for him to get her out of harm's way. She nodded and took his other hand in hers as well. She was good. "Now, I am going to give you a hug and then you will start walking, but don't go home. Go anywhere else but home, got me?"

  "Are we being watched?" Lisa's voice cracked but she was still smiling.

  "Yeah, but I think it’s me that he's after. If we play our cards right, he will ignore you and keep following me." Sam's smiled widened and Lisa briefly caught something else there other than the worry he was feeling. "When you get a block or so away from the park I need you to call Boston PD and ask for Chief Shafer. If they say he isn't in, demand to talk to him. Tell them I asked you to. Tell the chief where I am and that I said I have a situation. He will understand." Sam took her in his arms and held on longer than he should have. The smell of her hair and her softness awakened something deep within him. He would rather die than let anything happen to her. When he released her, she walked briskly away. He hated that she got caught up in this.

  Whomever this guy was, he was either the craftiest son of a bitch there was or he was a magician. How he had managed to always be ahead of them without Sam seeing him pass was a puzzle. He turned and began walking along the edge of the park. Whatever this guy was planning, Sam had to lure him away from people. The sky grew darker with the promise of rain that Sam had failed to notice with Lisa. Shadows deepened and he could see families begin to leave the park in droves. Good, he thought. He didn't think that there would be an altercation out in the open, but he didn't want to take that chance. Walking back into the park toward a small cluster of trees, Sam felt the secure pressure of his 9mm holstered against him. Up ahead he could see the play area with swings that he and Lisa had enjoyed just minutes before. Standing next to the swing set, in the full shadow of the trees and the oncoming storm, stood the man in the trench coat.

  15

  T he chief sat in his office alone. The blinds were drawn, a single lamp illuminated the desk, and the overhead light was off as he often preferred it to be. Shadows were hidden in the light that so often flooded rooms. Drew had learned that as the light hides the shadows, the shadows hide the darkness. In his own way, he kept his office lit where he was in control of that darkness.