by Ryan Garner
“I'm surprised you still consider me a friend...let alone your best friend.” Karina dropped her head when she said this.
John sighed and looked over at her, just as Karina lifted her eyes to meet his. “To be honest Karina...” he said, “...you're the only one left that I do trust. You are the only one I’ve trusted for a long while.” He hesitated for a split second after speaking and then continued.
“Sure there are officers that I'd trust with my life to watch my back, but you are the only one I would trust with everything. I couldn't bear to lose you; especially not to the NGP, the federal government, or Jennifer and not if I knew there was something I could have done about it.” Karina felt the lump in her throat growing larger. Even if she wanted to speak she could no longer talk, not now.
“There are so many things that I wish I didn't know and so many things I wish I hadn't seen.” John said. “There have been times that I honestly wished I could have been like so many others and could have gone along living a blissfully ignorant lie, completely unaware of the horrors that surround us.”
John let out another sigh. “I have so many regrets about my life and things that I've done...” he balked before finishing the sentence. “...or haven't done.” He then momentarily choked as he fought to control his own emotions before finishing his statement.
“I wasn't about to let you become another regret.” John said solemnly.
Karina was speechless, not only had no one ever said anything like this to her before, but it was the most heartfelt thing she had ever heard. She could not understand why John would protect her in such a manner. A stunned silence briefly consumed her, her mind was completely blank and she had no idea what to do and then she was kissing him. Tears ran down her face as she pressed her lips against his.
Initially, she expected John to push her away, but she instantly realized that he was kissing her back. Their emotions grew even more intense and passionate as they embraced one another. Karina pulled herself against John as she ran her hands up and down his back, clinging to him as they continued on.
He was trying not to cry, but the flood of emotions was almost too much for him. Wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him, he felt her climb on top of him, frantically kissing him as she did so. Then she slid her hands under his shirt and pulled it off; he did the same to her. As their actions grew increasingly fevered there was almost a mad dash to see who could get the other’s clothes off faster.
The world and all its problems fell away from John as he and Karina progressed. For the time being nothing else mattered, all the pain and difficulties were gone now; it was just Karina and him. This was a moment he wished would last forever.
….
There was an ear popping crash as the battering ram struck the wooden front door of the apartment nearly tearing it off its hinges and cleaving a large fracture into its center of mass as the door was forced open and crashed into the wall of the hallway behind it. As soon as the door was knocked open the second male standing in the stacked formation of Bravo Team tossed in what could have initially been mistaken for a dark colored soda can. It struck the floor of the apartment with a heavy metal clank and a moment later the deafening explosion and bright flash of the stun grenade burst through the area. Immediately after this both Alpha and Bravo Teams burst into the apartment with their weapons at the ready and made their way inside in two column lines. Bravo Team headed for the living room and kitchen area while Alpha Team broke off and moved down the left side hallway towards the bedrooms.
“National Governing Police!!!” a few of the officers shouted as they stormed inside the apartment in their dark blue tactical gear.
….
Tiffany Ellwood had just managed to fall asleep when she was suddenly jolted awake by the sound of a crash at her front door. It was followed by the ear splitting sound of an explosion. The loud voices of men shouting and the pounding of heavy boots towards her bedroom door followed soon after. Confused and frightened Tiffany was completely disoriented. Bolting upright and not bothering to reach for the pink silk bathrobe lying across the bottom of her bed to cover her naked body; she stumbled out of bed and fell to the floor. She was terrified and unsure who had just burst into her home. Organized home invasions by street gangs were not unusual, especially in neighborhoods such as hers. Sometimes during riotous outbreaks whole neighborhoods had been besieged by gangs of thugs going house to house pillaging whatever they could get their hands on and killing anyone that got in their way. The ruthless criminals would sometimes dress as police or federal officers in order to maintain the element of surprise until the last possible minute when it was already too late for the living victims to properly identify their assailants.
The particulars of the situation didn't really matter at this point as she was trapped inside her apartment. Simply jumping out of her third story window was not a feasible option. She wished she had a gun to protect herself, but they were impossible to legally obtain these days and not to mention ridiculously expensive. She would have to make do with what she had.
The thudding sound of footsteps had almost reached her door. She scrambled to her feet and rushed over to her dresser quickly grabbing a wooden baseball bat that she had hidden behind it. The second she had it in her hands she heard the crash of her bedroom door being kicked open. She turned to face the threat and was immediately hit by the blinding light of a flashlight mounted to the side rail of a Kriss Vector .45 Caliber submachine gun. Tiffany took a step towards the light hoping she might be able to scare away her would be attacker. She had absolutely no chance.
….
The leader of Alpha Team slammed the bottom of his heavy black boot against the flimsy wooden bedroom door and forced it open with a loud crash. With his well-built muscular frame he had no problem forcing the door; in fact he inadvertently almost put his foot through the wooden door when he kicked it in. The moment this task was completed, he raised his Kriss Vector submachine gun and depressed the pressure pad attached to the side of the forend grip. Light from the Streamlight flashlight mounted to the rail of his weapon flooded into the room and he immediately observed an extremely attractive naked woman standing in front of him. She was holding onto a baseball bat and was just beginning to raise it into the air.
The team leader paused for all of a split second as he took note of Tiffany's beautiful body. Some obvious body piercings flashed in the blinding light of his flashlight and several tattoos were very apparent. She was the type of girl he would love to have fun with; nothing serious of course, just purely physical. This thought quickly left his mind as she began to move towards him. The reply to her action was simple enough for him.
Individual with a deadly weapon moving towards him and his team. The thought was almost robotic in nature and so the response was just as calculated. He pressed the trigger of his submachine gun and let a stream of .45 caliber hollow point 230 grain Speer Gold Dot rounds tear their way up Tiffany's midsection.
There was choked scream as Tiffany let out a brief cry of pain before collapsing to the ground in a bloody heap.
“Shots fired! Shots fired!” one of the Alpha Team members in the back of the line shouted into his radio.
“Target down...” The Alpha Team leader stated calmly over the radio almost immediately afterward.
….
Karina moaned softly as she and John pressed their nude bodies against one another. She had never stopped kissing him as her hands moved slowly up and down his torso before finally wrapping her arms around him and pulling him to her. He mimicked her actions.
Karina had been in similar circumstances such as this numerous times before, but this time something felt very different for her. There was a complex mixture of what she could only describe as “joyfully hopeful” feelings making their way over her. While she could not quite understand why she felt this way she did know that for the first time in a very long time it seemed as if things were finally taking a turn for the better for bo
th she and John. She pressed her lips against John's as the two lovers continued.
….
Tiffany struggled to breath, the pain was more than overwhelming, it was paralyzing. Her body lay quivering on the floor as she fought for each breath of air that she took into her punctured lungs. Staring down at her were the eyes of several heavily armed and black masked NGP Officers. Not being able to see their faces made the situation even more frightening. The one who had shot her stood closest and examined her with clinically detached eyes. She was cold; very, very cold and terrified; she could feel the sensation of blood running down her abdomen before it dripped onto the floor creating a crimson pool around her.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement as two more National Governing Police Officers walked into the room. Shock and horror immediately set in when she recognizing one of them.
….
Jennifer Fields walked gracefully into the bedroom followed closely by Lieutenant Fearon. Her plan was unfolding quite well. It had not taken long for Jennifer to deduce that the only person John would have refused to answer questions for would have been Karina. Once this had been determined she only needed a minimal amount of articulation on her part to convince her superiors to put this, “critical mission information gathering” raid together. Now without Tiffany, Jennifer knew she would only need to wait for Karina to quickly fall into her grasp. It was almost too easy.
Neither officer needed to ask what had happened; they had already seen everything unfold right in front of them in high definition on their computer monitors from the waiting NGP van outside.
One of the Alpha Team members turned to look at both of them and subtly shook his head in a “no” fashion to signal Tiffany's rapidly deteriorating condition.
“The rest of the apartment is clear…the other one must have left her cell phone behind.” he said.
Thank God Karina’s not here… Tiffany immediately thought.
Lieutenant Fearon stopped a few feet away from her. Before his officer had spoken he had already determined that the other resident must have neglected to take her phone with her. Whether this action was intentional or merely a lucky break on her part was still up for determination.
With a feline like rhythm Jennifer made her way over to Tiffany and slowly knelt down next to her and stared into her bleary and terror filled green eyes. She was trying not to cry, but it was already too late. Tiffany could feel the tears running down her face as her enemy knelt next to her.
“Sssshhhhh...” Jennifer whispered as she gently wiped away the tears from Tiffany's cheek and carefully moved her disheveled hair out of her beautiful yet rapidly dimming eyes. She then began to softly caress the side of Tiffany's face.
“Don't worry...” she said with a smile that looked pure evil in its intent, “You'll be fine...EMS is on the way.”
Tiffany opened her mouth to try and speak, but it instantly filled with blood. She immediately choked and began gasping for air. She knew Jennifer was just toying with her, she was sure that Karina's former lover was more than happy to watch her die; slowly and painfully.
Tiffany couldn't quite hear what the other men were saying as they stood huddled together in a semi-circle closer to her bedroom doorway, but she could tell they were talking about her as they glanced repeatedly over in her general direction. Jennifer's soft touches were so damn distracting. Had she not been in so much pain she might have found it interesting that amidst everything she was experiencing she could still make out the delicate touch of Jennifer's perfectly manicured fingers and nails running along the side of her face.
She tried to gulp another breath of air into her lungs, but she suddenly felt as if her head had been plunged underwater and she had taken in a mouth full of liquid, but Tiffany knew it wasn't water, but her own blood that was filling her bullet punctured lungs. Terror had long since consumed her as she realized that she was going to die here…soon. Worse yet, she was going to perish at the merciless hands of the NGP with Jennifer eagerly watching all of it; perched over her like some kind of hungry vulture anxiously waiting for an injured animal to expire so that it could feast on her remains.
Panicking as she began to drown Tiffany instinctively reached out and clutched Jennifer's forearm as she coughed blood from her mouth and futilely attempted to draw more oxygen into her lungs. Her grip on Jennifer's arm was tight at first, but soon began to lose strength with each passing second. This only increased the smile on Jennifer's face as she stared into Tiffany's dying eyes. She then slowly leaned over and whispered into her ear.
“Don't worry...” She said in a seductive voice laced with titillation. “It'll all be over soon.” Tiffany was fading fast, the sensations of extreme cold and excruciating pain had all, but passed. Now her body felt numb and her eyesight was fading rapidly.
“I'll take good care of her.” Jennifer added as she slowly began to pull away from Tiffany. She then quickly yanked her arm free of Tiffany's weak grasp and allowed the dying woman’s hand to fall to the floor with a distinctive thud. The last thing Tiffany heard was the sound of Jennifer's depraved voice.
“Karina is mine now.”
CHAPTER 16
The open highway at night; dark concrete pavement with white over black lines streaking by at high speed; except for the moon and stars the only illumination coming from the patrol car's headlights and the occasional high standing light tower. The low growl of the Dodge's V8 engine, the howl of the tires, and the droning sound of wind as it slipped over the contours of the Charger's body and through the gap between the roof of the vehicle and the LED light bar.
The open road had always been a comfort to John, especially at night. He didn't know why cruising the abandoned roadways after dark felt so relaxing, but when time permitted he had often found himself on the open highway. His assignment to one of the more northern beats in the city made it easy for him on slower nights to slip out onto the highway and “fly.” His normal cruising route followed I-40 west bound for several miles before jumping onto the 140 and heading back east before his exit onto Market Street. It was a large, oddly shaped circle that brought him back to his beat. Even though every patrol car was being tracked by GPS no one would question this minor deviation especially since he could easily make it back to his patrol area within minutes if necessary. Given the mutual aid agreement Wilmington had with New Hanover County there were times when he stretched the distance on I-40 even further, but this was not a regular occurrence.
It was therapeutic for him. When time permitted he would cruise for hours in dead silence down the darkened highway. Other than the ambient vehicle noise, the only other occasional sound came from the police radio or the sporadic beeps of the Mobile Computer Terminal that sat in the car next to him. On several lonely nights John had felt as if these were his only companions.
Random vehicle stops occasionally punctuated those lone excursions on the empty roadway. Many officers might have shied away from these tasks since he was miles away from help if he had need of it, but John found himself drawn to those isolated locations. Maybe it was because no one bothered him out there, or maybe it was something else entirely. At any rate it no longer mattered now. He would never again patrol these highways like a shark hunting below the dark blue expansive ocean waters. The open road was one of the things that John would miss the most.
….
Samantha's whole body ached. Her abdomen was sore and pain radiated out from the numerous bruises, cuts, and burns he had inflicted on her. She had a splitting headache stemming from the newly forming bruise that was developing around her left eye. Even with heavily applied makeup she would not be able to completely hide this particular injury anytime soon. Her legs felt as if they were Jell-O and she struggled to limp her way down the sidewalk adjacent to Market Street. Even her normally light weight backpack felt as if it weighed a ton.
Her orange hair was a mess and unfortunately it was too short to afford her the opportunity to hide much of her battered and humi
liated face. Of course she did not expect anyone to notice or even care about an abused cheap whore walking the street in the early morning hours; even if it did appear as if she had gone through a few rounds with that old boxer Mike Tyson.
She wouldn't be able to walk home. It was too far and she was too exhausted to make the trek anyways. A cab was out of the question, she didn't have any money. This time around her Arabic client had refused to pay her and had made the cryptic statement that; she probably wouldn't have long enough to enjoy the money anyways. Samantha didn’t know what he meant by that, nor did she want to find out. Unfortunately, in a moment of desperation she had foolishly tried to demand the money which had resulted in her black eye and then being nearly thrown out of the hotel room. She cracked a half smile figuring she was “lucky” that the man had tossed her clothes and belongings out after her or she might be walking down the street naked; an even easier target for the gangs that frequently roamed this area.
Samantha didn't know what to do. She toyed with the idea of just collapsing on a bench somewhere and hopefully waking up rested enough to be able to make the walk home. She had done it before, but for whatever reason this idea seemed more frightening now. She had never been in this much pain or this weak before. It would be easy for anyone to take advantage of her and she didn’t have any fight left in her. Resisting an attack would be completely out of the question. Further increasing her anxiety, she had already seen a few groups of black males in the area that had taken notice of her presence as she slowly made her way down the road. It may have been nothing. For all she knew they might have been going to work...or they might not have. Jobs weren’t exactly in abundance these days and most employers didn’t want their associates showing up in gang colors or clothing that was five sizes larger than what they should be wearing. It may not have been a politically correct assumption and maybe it made her a racist, but Samantha had lived on the street long enough to know that politically correct or not, stereotypes were a very real thing and they sometimes kept you alive.