by Luis Samways
The TV screen goes blank for a few seconds then it cuts back to the news station’s anchor man. Frank looks on at the TV screen in shock. He now knows that Connor Chase isn’t just some paranoid killer. The man Frank is after is the spearhead of a group of home grown militia. A group that by themselves prove a threat, but with the news coverage stretching far and wide, Frank fears that this group could cause a tidal wave of support from right winged nationalists who eat up his propaganda.
‘This is bad.’ He says to himself.
Fifteen
Frank is sat down in the temporary office of the DA at the central crime unit’s incident room. They call it an incident room, but it’s more like an incident castle. The building is basically an old fort like structure that has more history then the Germans.
Looking across from Frank was DA Eddie Smith. Eddie has a scornful smile on his face, accompanied by a light chuckle.
‘This ass hole is going to fuck with my patience. He surely can’t think that Washington is going to allow for this so called 28 amendment?’ asks Eddie.
Frank nods in agreement and doesn’t answer the DA. He knows a rhetorical question when he hears one. Frank knows that the DA just wants to blow off steam, so he lets him babble on some more. Frank’s not paying attention to what Eddie is saying anyway. He has too much on his mind, preferably how he is going to deal with Chase. Suddenly Frank’s trail of thought is thrown out of transit.
‘Hey Frank? Are you listening to me?’ Eddie asks.
‘Yeah boss. I’m just thinking that maybe we need to deal with this in another manner’
‘What do you suggest?’
‘Well sir, we are the ones giving Chase all of this exposure. I know we, the authorities aren’t, but the news channels are. There is a saying that people can get drunk with power, well my theory is that if we cut the press out of this then Connor and his men lose their power.’
‘I don’t know Frank. We run the risk of pissing him off. He has the hostages remember, we can’t risk their lives like that, just to save face.’
Frank pauses. He feels as if the DA is not seeing the bigger picture. Frank knows how hard it is to convince a politician of something that they can’t see. It’s Time to turn the blinders off.
‘It’s not to save face Sir. If we don’t turn the spotlight off Chase then we run the risk of inciting a following from him. A following that could get out of hand and mean that we are dealing with more than one far right group.’
‘Yeah but we could also make him extremely angry, and in turn he could take that anger out on those people Frank, innocent people at that!’
‘I disagree. The man is craving the attention. Without it, we will have him neutered’
Frank smiles to himself. He’s trying to come across as convincing as possible. He knows that he’s right, but it’s convincing everyone else that’s the problem.
‘Or we will give him motive’ says the DA, immediately breaking Frank’s hopes.
Sixteen
Jason is the sort of guy that can easily blend into a crowd. He knew that as sure as he knew the importance of this day. He was sitting on a bench on the southbound platform waiting for his train. His IPOD was blazing thrash metal into his ear drums at the much higher recommended decibel level of 10. Two girls walk by him. They stop in front of him, both talking amongst themselves. He looks at the girls, both with their backs facing him, he smiles to himself. The two girls are average looking collage girls, both beautiful beyond the usual passengers on this particular platform. He immediately feels a connection to both of them. Jason turns his IPOD off and takes the ear phones out. He stands up from the rickety platform seat he has been sitting on for the past few hours. He strolls over to the girls, both of them still laughing and joking to each other. He taps the brunette on the shoulder; her blond friend turns around before her and smiles at Jason, soon followed by the welcoming eyes of the girl he tapped on the shoulder. Jason smiles as both of the pretty college girls look at him expecting him to say something. The two girls smile at each other and look Jason up and down. Jason’s six foot frame towers over them; his jet black hair gives him a certain beach boy look that’s common in California. His lean physic visible through his tight vest, showing an abundance of toned muscle covered in tribal tattoos. To say that Jason was a good looking man would be an understatement. He knew that too, and used it to his advantage many a time. He spoke.
‘I’m sorry to bother you two lovely ladies, it’s just I’m wondering whether or not I’ve missed the 9.00 o’clock train.’ Jason said. His soft tone mellowed as he spoke. The southern accent he donned made most women feel at ease, it was no different this time.
The blond girl blushed.
‘That’s what we thought as well, but we have just come from the information kiosk and they told us that the train is late, by about two hours. We have a bit of a wait on our hands.’ The young blond said. She was staring deep into Jason’s brown eyes; he could see the attraction she felt towards him.
‘That’s a relief; I thought I’d have to stay at the station for another day or two, this train isn’t as regular as it should be.’ Jason says.
Both girls smile. The brunet girl that Jason tapped on the shoulder earlier looks confused.
‘I thought there were trains every hour to Boston?’ she says
Jason smiles at her; finally he knows what she sounds like.
‘It’s not that there aren’t any trains regularly, it’s just I don’t like traveling at night, too many weirdoes at night. I have an appointment tomorrow so I can’t miss this train.’ He says, still as smooth as leather.
The brunette nods in understanding. Her friend nudges her and signals her with her eyes the way girls do when trying to be sheepish.
‘Well we don’t like travelling at night neither for the same reasons. There are a lot of creeps out there. We seem to attract the wrong sort of attention.’ The brunet girl says, still smiling, her near perfect white teeth could be visible from the other end of the platform Jason thought to himself.
‘I do apologise Mister, my name’s Crystal and this is my friend Jenifer.’ The pretty brunette says.
‘The names Jason, I have to admit that I’ve never been called “Mister” before’
The two girls laugh a shy but forced laugh.
‘Sorry it’s just you look a bit older then us, so I thought I’d throw out the courtesy line of “Mister”’ Crystal said.
‘I’m 24, is that what the kids these days are calling old these days?’ laughs Jason.
‘I guess not, well I’m 19 and Jenny here is 21, she enrolled late. We both got to college at B-Mass’
‘Is that so? I’m going there for my meeting tomorrow. I got a job as the computer technician there a few weeks ago, the job briefing is tomorrow.’
‘Wow, you’re quite young to be a professor’ Jenifer says, cutting off her fiend crystal before she could talk.
Jason laughs giving out a twinkling gleam at Jenifer.
‘I’m no professor Jenny, I just fix the PC’s and reroute the network.’
‘Oh, I feel silly now’ says Jenifer
Jason gives her another smile and touches her on the shoulder.
‘Don’t’ worry, it’s alright.’ He says
‘You must be pretty good at fixing things then?’ asks Crystal.
‘I’m very good at what I do let’s just say that’
Jason smiles at the two girls while giving off his trade mark wink. Crystal and Jenifer look at each other and back at Jason still both smiling at him. The two girls sense an intense attraction to the man in front of them.
‘I guess you can ride with us, we could do with the company. It’s a long ride to Boston.’ Crystal says.
‘Sure. My IPOD is running low on juice; I’d be pretty bored without it, so the two of you will have to keep me entertained.’
Crystal and Jenifer giggle among themselves. Jason joins in making them feel at ease. Jason certainly is good at what he does.
Se
venteen
The news room that Sandra stood in was quiet for the first time in over 6 years. It was usually a loud and energetic place where people were reeling for the next big scoop. The past 24 hours have been absolute chaos in her eyes, ever since the massacre at Rixton Stella Avenue, in the outskirts of Boston. It was big news for the community and especially big news for the station. Boston’s outskirts were well known for being their territory. All the big news channels in Boston had the big areas. The known hotspot’s for crime and all this little station was left with was the outskirts that nobody wanted. That same fact used to annoy the 20 something workforce that controlled the station. They were usually relegated to the fluffy news stories about yard sales raising money for charity and missing dogs. They were the local light hearted news channel that everybody in Boston did not watch, until today that is.
Giving the logistics of channel 72 news, and where they were placed in Boston, they had the advantage over their competitors when it came to breaking the news first in the Rixton area. On this day that meant more than any time before. They were able to report on the massacre at Rixton 25 minutes before the more prominent news channels showed up, the ones with the alphabet jumbled up in their names. Because they turned up before anyone else, that meant the other channels had to keep up with channel 72, and the only way to do that was to use the live feed from channel 72 with a nice little courtesy image on the top left of the screen that said “Channel 72 news feed” which gave the struggling news channel some exposure, it also made the selling of their live feed quite lucrative.
Sandra stood in front of her colleagues to address them of the situation at hand. The news room is abuzz with anticipation as the whole workforce of Channel 72 is stood in front of her, including camera men, journalists and even the owner Bob Sinclair.
‘As you know today has been a monumental day for channel 72 news. Our hard work has paid off in providing the world with uninterrupted coverage of the shocking events at Rixton. We have been lucky enough to be able to succeed at presenting such a professional news cast with such a small workforce. That being said, today’s success has been made possible due to everyone who works here. Without you people we would have sunk long before today’s breakthrough. That being said, I have some bad news. The FBI and local police have authorised the censorship of the Rixton massacre. What that means is that no news station, including ours can run a story on this case. The reason that the decision was made, is because the authorities believe that if we ignore the story then the extremists that have taken M.I.T hostage will not have the spotlight needed to succeed in their mission to instil a revolution and a public uprising. The censorship also includes broadcasting Connor Chase’s live video link when he addresses the public about his crimes. He said he would be releasing a live feed every hour for the next 12 hours, which means we can’t broadcast any of those hourly video streams. Again the authorities insist it will help flush him out. They have profiled him as the sort of killer who murders as a statement, so taking the cameras and coverage away from him will take away his ability to make one.’ says Sandra.
Her boss Bob Sinclair shakes his head mimicking the general response to the speech.
‘What if it just makes him make a bigger statement? Remember he did not have cameras on him when he murdered those 15 people at his house.’ Bob sighs inwards and shakes his head again.
Eighteen
The M.I.T building had been turned inside out; all of the PC’s and paper files dealing with the business of the company had been placed in the middle foyer of the building. The mass of computers and hard drives formed an incoherent pyramid that reached near to the top of the ceiling. There was a man on a ladder with a hammer. He was searching for something, and then he found it. He took a swing with the hammer at the fire sprinkler that was just above the mass of hardware that had been piled up underneath it. The thud of the hand held tool was heard echoing of the walls. Only one swing was needed to completely destroy the sprinkler. The man on the ladder gave a satisfied gaze that followed the debris of his handiwork as the plastic and metal shards hit the floor. He made his way down the ladder and stood in front of the pyramid pileup. He bent down and grabbed a rather large jerry can filled with petrol. He started to pour the petrol on the base of the piled up documents. He covered all the bottom of the pyramid making sure to go around and form a crude circle covering the bases of the pile up. He threw the jerry can into the heap and got out a box of matches. He lit a cigarette with his match and took a couple of drags. He smiled briefly before flicking the cigarette into the heap of documents and walked off into the atrium, closing a heavy security door behind him.
‘The fire is lit sir. All of the documents and hardware we have found will be destroyed.’ He said to the man that was waiting for him, Connor Chase.
‘Ah good. Just one thing, are you sure that the fire wont progress and reach us?’ Connor asks
‘No sir. The metal door in front on the foyer will stop the fire spreading, and once it reaches the outside of the building we will be long gone.’
‘If you ask me it seems a bit risky setting fire to a building you’re planning on occupying for a further 10 hours.’
‘That’s the whole point sir. We will be able to block out any incoming attempts at gaining entry to the building. The front passage of the building is the only known entrance that the feds will be able to get to.’
‘What about the fire exits?’
‘Each fire exit is armed with a sensor mechanism that will set off a kilo of C4. The blast will take anything out in a 400 yard radius. The roof has five men on it sir; each armed with stinger missile launchers with an anti-aircraft lock on system, plus each man has an RPG, just for fluency and freedom of attack.’
‘What if they do come in from one of the exits, does that mean we get blown up as well?’
‘No sir. We are situated in the middle of the building 7 stories up. There are no fire exits on that floor, only lift shafts and two stairwells, which will both be barricaded off until our job is done here, and then with the covering fire and support of the five sentry guards on the roof, an apache will land and take us away to our destination.’
‘Good, let’s get this show on the road then’ says Connor
Nineteen
Frank has been sitting down near the phone now for about one hour. He is under the impression that he will be getting a phone call. He knows that Connor Chase would be majorly pissed at the fact that they cut his line to the press. He wasn’t sure whether or not it was a good idea anymore. Sure the upside was that nobody else would be able to witness his heinous crimes and copy them, making the police’s case load bigger than it already was. But there was the danger of Chase going nuts and killing all the hostages because his demands were not being met. Frank knew that he did not mention anything about demanding to be center news or anything of those sorts. He did know however that the state, no matter how many hostages Chase had would not be agreeing to a new amendment, especially from such a violent lobbyist like him.
Frank was sitting alone in his personal office that was given to him by the DA. Frank thought that maybe the only reason Eddie gave him an office was because of the guilt that he may have felt about Frank being fired. Frank knew that Eddie’s position meant he had to be careful of who and what he indulged in, and nobody would support a DA that indulges in people of Frank’s calibre. Frank’s thoughts were rambling so he decided to turn on the TV to see if any of the news channels were finding ways to get the big days story out, bypassing the cease and desist order that the Boston PD had enforced.
The news channels were all complying as he skimmed through all of the news channels. Most of them were reporting on other world events like the prime minister of England being involved in a car crash a few days ago. It was old news but the channels had to make do with what they had, or rather what they were allowed to have.
Frank was bored so he lit up a cigarette. He smoked the cigarette slowly due to the fact that he was
running low, his 20 pack was now cut down to a mere 3 cigarette’s including the upside down one for good luck.
He was nearly falling asleep when the door to his office was abruptly opened and Chief Shaw walked in.
‘Alright laddie, No time for small talk Frank, you need to come to the incident room.’
Frank sprung up off his chair trying to present an alert state, even though he was feeling run down.
‘Are you okay?’ Asks Shaw
‘Yeah I’m fine, just feeling the long hours Chief’
Shaw starts to laugh out loud. Frank thought of how strange that reaction was due to the situation at hand, but some people deal with it differently he thought to himself.
‘Oh boy Frank, you never cease to amaze me. I’m nearly double your age and I have yet to fall asleep with a cigarette in my mouth, and be that tiered that I didn’t notice it burn a dam hole into my jacket!’
Frank looks down at his Jacket and shakes his head, one more casualty of the day.
Twenty
Crystal and Jennifer had been sitting down on the train now for around 3 minutes. The time it takes to board the train is not as long as it takes for the train to start moving. On this line it wasn’t uncommon for the drives of the motors to get out of the cab and go for a break. The breaks usually don’t last longer than 10 minutes. No one really minded because it gave people time to put there luggage in compartments, because there is nothing worse than trying to fit a large bag in a compartment while the train’s swerving at 150 MPH. The stoppage also gave people time to go to the toilet without fear of falling over. Jason Bordello was one of those people taking advantage of the train being idle. Crystal and Jennifer looked on as Jason stood up and looked at both of them with smiling eyes.
‘I need to let the hose out a minute. If you don’t mind ladies I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
The reference to “hose” made the two girls blush, Jason smiled again and walked off down the aisle towards the toilet. Both girls watched him until he was out of sight, and turned to each other.