PHOENIX: Spooks

by Howard, Paul

  “I’m that break!” White insisted. “Dr. Bell told me that only a spook can stop a spook, and you need me. Morrison can’t hurt me.” Sam glared at his old partner for a moment; a terrible thought had occurred to him. He pulled White’s note out of his pocket and held it up.

  “Godammit, Lenny!” he sighed. “You didn’t plan this? You didn’t get yourself killed so that you could come back here and do this?” White could see how visibly shaken Sam was and shook his head, smiling softly.

  “No, Sam. I didn’t plan this,” White said, “I knew it was a possibility, that’s all. I didn’t want to die, it was no fun. I wanted to live just as much as you do. But now that I am…”

  “You can’t hurt him.” Sam said.

  “I don’t have to hurt him,” White answered, “I’m just out to stop him. We need stay a step ahead of him. I can do it.” The captain shook his head again.

  “Even if you’re right, I can’t do it!” he objected. “I’d lose my badge and you know it...”

  “I can do something about that!”

  They all turned with surprise and saw Bell moving in. The captain and Sam recognized him immediately. He looked at White and smiled.

  “I am not without influence, Captain,” Bell said, “I can assure you that Inspector White here is the only chance you have to stop Morrison. Believe me, I know. Once the chromosomes are reprogrammed to the Ecto Sequence, the physical form of the subject is locked in. No matter what injuries it receives, it will always return to that form.”

  Brawly hung his head in intense concentration. He finally shrugged and reached into his pocket. He knew that Bell had the jets to reach even the highest echelons of government if he had to. If Dr. Bell said White was the only cop who could stop Morrison he could make it stick. He pulled out White’s badge and handed it to him.

  “All right,” Brawly said softly, “I’m re-commissioning you, as of right now, on a temporary basis until Morrison is brought in or ki...” He glanced at Bell and caught himself. “Stopped. OK?” Bell smiled and nodded his head.

  Chapter Twenty: Phase 2

  Kurt William’s home clung to a hillside overlooking the muddy wash that had once been North Atlantic Boulevard. Although he had heard the news of Morrison’s return, it had never occurred to him that the murderer of his son would seek him out for revenge. Neither he nor the authorities realized the image of him at the execution had played so heavily on Morrison’s mind, and figured so prominently during the infusion experience.

  The twilight sky was turning a dull shade of purple as the cool of evening began to set in. Williams was clipping a Juniper bush with a large pair of shears. He stopped, wiped his brow and moved to a small table nearby. He set down the shears and took a sip from a glass of cool lemonade, inspecting a rose bush as he relaxed for a few moments.

  He didn’t notice at first, but a soft, slopping was coming up from behind him. He turned to see what it was, but didn’t see anything. He finished the juice and moved to his shed. After poking around inside for a moment he emerged with a bag of plant food. Hoisting it on his shoulder, he carried it across the yard.

  The soft sound was there again. He turned to see what it was. Again, there was nothing. As he turned back he found himself face-to-face with the slimy apparition of Morrison, who was no longer recognizable. His flesh had turned into a slimy translucent ooze. He grinned at Williams.

  “Remember me?” he said in a disgusting, gurgling voice.

  Williams reacted quickly and tossed the bag at Morrison. He scrambled toward the house but Morrison was on him quickly and cut him off. Williams backed away from the ecto, whose appearance was degenerating before his eyes.

  “I remember you,” Morrison sneered, “I told you I’d come back...”

  “You should be dead,” Williams replied, “You crazy bastard!” Morrison gave out a wet, gurgling laugh.

  “I am dead,” he chuckled, “Now, it’s your turn!”

  He jumped on Williams and they fell in a tangled mess to the ground. Williams tried to push free and they tumbled across the yard, knocking over the small table. After a couple more turns Morrison managed to get the upper hand and clutched Williams’ throat.

  The older man began to gasp for air and threw ineffective punches at Morrison. He looked around desperately as his face turned red. His flailing hand found the shears. He grasped the shears and swung them around, hitting Morrison on the side of his head. It surprised him and he fell off. Williams wasted no time in getting to his feet.

  Morrison got up on his feet and began to laugh at him. Williams opened the shears and held them out in front of himself for protection.

  “Chop, Chop! Snippety-snip!” the ecto mused. “Sorry. No more gardening for you.”

  He lunged forward at Williams with his hands reaching for his throat. The older man took a step back and snipped the shears closed on his right hand, cutting it off. Morrison laughed even harder at this. It didn’t hurt at all. Williams looked down in shock at the severed hand. It melted into blue slop on the ground.

  Morrison charged forward again. He was almost entirely liquid at this point, his laughter turned into a gurgling rasp. Williams swung the shears again, but this time they went right through Morrison. Surprised by this, he stepped back and to the side. Morrison turned to attack again and lunged at Williams one more time. This time he went right through Williams and fell flat on his face. A sudden, freezing chill swept over Williams and he stepped back confused and shivering. Morrison got back up slowly.

  “Wh…What’s happening?” he thought out loud. He held up his hand, which had turned to vapor, as well as his arms and the rest of his body. It was only half there and all vapor. Surprised, he realized that his empty clothes were lying on the ground. He looked down at himself amazed. He was only a half-torso of transparent vapor.

  “Phase 2!” he gasped, and burst out in laughter.

  He charged at Williams again, only now he was floating. He felt the sensation of the fence on his face; dry and pulpy, then of it going through him; a strange, fibrous feeling of dead wood passing through his whole being as he went through it, like a ghost.

  Williams had seen enough and decided not to wait until Morrison figured out how to kill him.

  He ran down the street screaming as loud as he could. Morrison looked at his transparent hands and puzzled over his situation. He floated over to one of the rose bushes and tried to touch a rose thorn. It went through his finger.

  He then focused all of his concentration; and wrapped his hand very slowly around the stem of the rose. “Easy does it…” he sighed. The rose snapped off in his hand. He smiled and sniffed its fragrance.

  “That’s it!” he said. “Nice and slow.”

  The rose withered and turned brown moments after he touched it. He glanced over at the bush. The flowers closest to him began to wither as well, just like in a sudden frost. He looked down at the grass below where he had touched. It, too, was turning brown.

  *****

  Williams flagged down a police car and told the officers what had happened. They called in and whisked him to the downtown Central Station. An hour later he was still frightened and on the verge of hysteria, as he tried to explain what he had seen to the detectives. White, Sam, Brawly, and Bell were there listening patiently to the man, who was still covered in blue slime.

  “I got up, and when I did, he came at me and went right through the fence.” Williams exclaimed.

  “He crashed through the fence?” Bell asked.

  “Hell no!” Williams replied. “He went right through it just like it wasn’t there!” Bell glanced over at White gravely. “When he got up, just before he went through the fence, his clothes fell right off him. Only he didn’t have no bottom half!”

  An officer entered the room. The captain gestured for him to approach.

  “All right Mr. Williams,” Brawly said, “I want you to go with this officer and let him take your statement. We’ll talk some more after that’s done.” Willia
ms nodded and followed the officer out of the room as instructed. Bell was deep in thought and stared at his hands.

  “Well, Doctor,” Brawly said, “What do you make out of that?”

  “He’s now a Phase 2 Upper-Torsal Vapor.” Bell replied. This intrigued White. He was not aware that there could be differences in the way that spooks manifested in Phase 2.

  “Upper-Torsal?” he asked. “When I saw you in Phase 2 you only had a face.” Bell shook his head and leaned on the table next to White.

  “The effect in Phase 2 differs with each individual, just like the variance in the shapes of ears or noses,” he explained, “When you go into Phase 2 the only visible part of you could be your feet. There’s no way to predict how it will manifest itself.” Brawly was trying to take it all in.

  “Can he kill in that state?” he asked. Bell got up and shrugged his shoulders.

  “If you had asked me a week ago,” he began, “I would have said that an ecto could not kill in any state. I now know that was naive. He can move objects in Phase 2 to a limited degree so, he can still kill.”

  “Well, we’ve got everything covered here,” Sam said, “All the witnesses that are still in the state, the jurors, the prosecutors, and all the court staff who worked on the Morrison case. If he tries to get to any of them, we’ll be there.”

  Brawly shifted uncomfortably on his feet and looked at Sam with serious concern. “Not everything,” he sighed, “I just received a notice on my board thirty minutes ago. The Governor is coming in tonight.”

  The other men reacted suddenly with terrible concern. A look of fear crossed Bell’s face. White perked up and gasped.

  “She refused to stay his execution,” he exclaimed, “What better target could he have? Get her to postpone her visit.”

  “Don’t you think I already tried that?” the captain exclaimed. “I’ve held up her flight as it is. She’s been circling over Obama International for the last forty-five minutes. She refuses to leave and her plane is running out of charge. That’s what I came in here for when the old guy was giving his report. I can’t stop her from landing.”

  Bell stared at him blankly. He hadn’t figured on anything like this. Sam looked into Brawly’s face.

  “We don’t have a second to lose, Captain.” he suggested. Brawly nodded his head.

  “We’ll go to the helipad,” he replied, “I’ll get every cop I can there to meet her. Call the airport and keep her from landing till we get there. It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

  *****

  The silent induction motors on the helicopter whirred softly as the ship touched down on the airport helipad. Little was said on the way there. Now White was full of questions.

  “Do you know why she’s coming here, Captain?” he asked. Brawly frowned.

  “I can make a pretty good guess,” he answered, “I had half the City Leadership wanting to come here to greet her.”

  “Too many targets!” Sam replied. Brawly nodded in agreement.

  “I helped them realize that,” he replied, “I told them that anybody who didn’t want their necks broken should keep out of sight until this is over. I made sure they believed me.”

  They quickly moved off the helipad and entered the main terminal through the security gate. Police and personnel scanning devices lined the runway. A network so tight a mouse couldn’t get through. When the plane touched down two cordons of officers lined the tarmac from the stairs to the terminal entrance.

  Governor Ryan exited the plane and moved toward the group of detectives assembled to meet her. Followed by her personal staff, the expression of displeasure on her face would not have looked good on her campaign posters. Brawly met her at the door.

  “Governor Ryan,” he said, “I’m Captain Brawly of the LAPD. Welcome to Los Angeles.” She scanned the assembly with a puzzled expression on her face. There were no dignitaries and no press. Only cops and more cops.

  “Captain?” she said tersely. “Are you responsible for holding up my plane for over an hour?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, “It was necessary under the current situation.” She looked nervously over her shoulder at all the extra police. Her eyes suddenly found Bell standing nearby.

  “Gordon?” she asked. “So you’re here too.” He stepped close to her and smiled softly.

  “I’m afraid so, Helen,” he answered, “It’s good to see you. Why are you here?” She shook her head and scoffed.

  “You, of all people, ask that?” she snapped back. “Thanks to you, I’ve got the President, The Attorney General, half the Congress, and about a dozen news networks all over me. I came down here to see if I could do something about it.”

  “I can’t imagine what you could do, Helen,” Bell replied, “The police are handling this as best as they can.” She began to walk through the terminal, everybody followed her lead.

  “I appreciate that, but my reports say they haven’t been effective.” she replied and stopped in front of White. “I assume you are Inspector White?”

  “Yes, Governor.” he said, somewhat surprised that she recognized him.

  “You are the detective who has been infused,” she observed, “Is that correct?” He nodded his head.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She offered him her hand and he took it.

  “You’re a very brave man, Inspector,” she said, “I’m sorry things turned out as they did for you, but you are ready to help us now, isn’t that right?” She had so much information about him! White could only imagine that the captain had informed her through channels.

  “Yes, Governor. I am.” he replied.

  “Good!” she answered and squeezed his arm. “I’m going to be counting on you!”

  She began to move again and they followed. They were even more puzzled by her statements than they were before. Brawly finally stepped in her way and she stopped.

  “May I ask what you have in mind, Governor?” he inquired. She looked at him and grew very serious.

  “These murders have got to stop, Captain,” she replied, “We are going to stop them!”

  A flash went off and the sound of voices rose from the lobby of the terminal. Brawly and his officers turned around, stunned to see a huge throng of reporters approaching them. Bell turned toward her, horrified.

  “Helen, what have you done?” he asked. She posed for a camera and smiled. Then, she turned to another, as reporters began firing questions at her. The police were now struggling to keep them back.

  “I told you,” she said, “We’re going to stop him.”

  “How?” Bell asked.

  “It starts with them.” she said, looking at the cameras. “They will let everyone, including Morrison, know that I’m here.” The meaning of what she was suggesting dawned on the detectives and Brawly’s eyes widened with horror.

  “No, you can’t be serious, Governor,” he warned, “I will not permit this!” She looked at him as she continued to pose.

  “You will permit it, and that’s an order.” she replied. Brawly held firm and blocked her way.

  “You don’t have the authority, Governor,” he snapped, “My duty is to put you on the next plane out of here, with or without your consent. You’re the Chief Executive of this state!”

  She went out of public character and touched his hand. “It’s too late, Captain,” she said softly, “The feed is going out live.”

  Chapter Twenty-One: Phase 3

  The Presidential Suite of the hotel was a flurry of activity as police prepared what they hoped would be a trap for their quarry.

  Brawly was a nervous wreck as he supervised preparations according the Governor’s directives. He had terrible apprehensions about the effort they were about to undertake. If something went wrong, if Morrison managed to harm the Governor, it would be the end of him and the LAPD as he knew it.

  “Are those vents closed?” he asked Sam.

  “Triple checked, Captain,” Sam replied. “Nothing can get in.”

&
nbsp; “And those windows?” Brawly asked.

  “Sealed inside and out.” Sam said. He moved close to Brawly with his hands on his belt. They looked over at the Governor seated on the couch at the other end of the room. She was drinking tea and talking to Dr. Bell.

  “She’s quite a woman, isn’t she?” Sam observed, softy.

  “That she is,” Brawly sighed, “I’ve tried every form of persuasion on her, nothing. She insists on using herself as bait to set the trap. I’ve never seen a politician do anything like this.”

  “I’ve gotta admit,” Sam quipped, “She has more guts than any governor I’ve ever heard of.” Brawly furrowed his brow and shook his head.

  “Too much guts!” he hissed. “She’s looking to get herself killed!”

  He moved over to White. “So, we’re clear on the plan?” White nodded and held up his mobile unit.

  “I’ve got the air system monitors patched into this Unit,” he explained, “Any change in pressure or temperature will register on this. We can have all the manpower we need in less than thirty seconds up here.” Brawly nodded his head and glanced over at Ryan.

  “I’d prefer to stay here with her,” he said, “She won’t allow it.”

  “I’ll be right at that door, Captain.” White assured him. Brawly put his hand on his shoulder and nodded his head.

  Helen Ryan first met Dr. Bell at a festival in Cannes. The attraction was mutual and immediate. The beautiful actress and supermodel coupled with the internationally famous young scientist; the stuff of tabloid legends. Their affair lasted for eight weeks under a Mediterranean sun of years ago.

  It couldn’t last. She was passionately in love with him by the end of the second day; he had a career that made it impossible to get seriously involved with anyone. When it ended quietly, they parted company as understanding friends. They had too much respect and affection for each other to have it end any other way.