by Luis Samways
‘Hush little man, don’t you cry, Frank is not going, to spare your life’ Sings Frank in a melodic tone.
Frank gets up and cracks his fingers in anticipation. He breaths in deeply and lets out a barrage of kicks to the man’s scull, each one of them splattering blood in all directions. Frank is covered in blood, his rage is ever growing as he demolishes the once human like corpse of the guard. His kicking taking chunks of humanity with them. Frank moans in enjoyment, almost orgasmic as he falls to his knees, mouth wide open in awe.
He smears the blood away from his eyes and leans against the wall to try and catch his breath. The once bleach cleaned hallway is now reminiscent of a warzone, a war that Frank fought in, a war that is far from over.
The guard’s radio goes off.
‘Approaching corridor six, target last seen in the vicinity. Squad B-miner on point’ says the voice on the crackly radio
Frank looks up at the security door and sees a security camera pointed right at him. He quickly shoots up as he reads the sign below the camera.
“CORRIDOR SIX EXIT” Reads the sign.
‘Shit!’ Says Frank
Frank swats his fist at the security camera, knocking it off the wall with a crash. He darts his eyes down the corridor and sees shadows approaching fast, accompanied with the sounds of footsteps, multiple men, at least six according to Frank’s math. He bends down and grabs the deceased guard’s 9mm. He aims the weapon down the corridor and see’s silhouettes approaching. He waits. Three seconds. He cocks the gun. Two seconds. He breaths in deep. One second. He fires.
Forty Eight
Jason wakes up to a vibration in his pocket. It’s his cell phone. He flips the phone open and reads the message. He types something on the device and hits send. Jason puts the cell phone back in his pocket. Crystal’s head rests on his shoulder as she sleeps. He looks over at Jenifer who is stirring from a deep sleep. He quickly nudges Crystal awake; she opens her eyes and smiles at him. He shakes his head and points at Jenifer; Crystal reads his eyes and what he is trying to say. She sits up and brushes herself down, trying to make herself more presentable. He smiles at her and gives her a playful wink. Jenifer catches him in the act. She coughs out loud, as if she is trying to get their attention. He looks over at her, his face stern but friendly.
‘What’s going on?’ Asks Jenifer
Jason stretches out in his seat
‘Nothing, I just woke up, that’s all’
‘Is that so, huh?’
Jenifer gets up from her cabin chair facing Jason and Crystal.
‘How come you’re sitting there next to her?’ asks Jenifer while pointing at Crystal
Jason gets up from his seat and walks over the short distance to Jenifer, trying to calm her down, he gently grabs her hand. She snaps it away and steps back a few steps from him.
‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but last time I checked you came on this train ride with me, and now you’re with that frigid slut?’
‘I’m not with any one Jenifer! I’m just here for the ride to Boston’
Jenifer slaps Jason across the face. Her palm leaves a red mark on his cheek. He looks at her intensely as he grabs at his burning skin. She pushes him back into his seat and walks out of the cabin, leaving him and Crystal in silence for a good while.
Forty Nine
Chief Shaw rushes into DA Eddie Smiths office. He looks around the messy room, surveying the carnage of empty bottles from the mini bar and case files strewn all over the rinky-dink office. He shakes his head in amazement as he walks over to the DA’s desk. Eddie smith is fast asleep on the assortment of files on his desk, as his head rests on the big oak table; Chief Shaw rattles a bottle next to him. He grabs it and takes a long swig of the clear alcoholic liquid. He purposely forces the bottle back down onto the desk with a thud, awakening the sleeping District Attorney. Eddie looks up at the towering six foot figure of Shaw and gives him a clear look of distain.
‘What the hell do you want?’ Asks Eddie
Shaw looks unimpressed as he takes a drag on his oversized cigar.
‘I want you to get your ass up and follow me to the incident room.’
‘Don’t talk to me like that; I’m the goddamn District Attorney.’
‘That may be so Mr DA, but your drunker then my dad on Saint Patricks day, and that’s saying something considering he’s Irish!’ Laughs Shaw
Eddie sits up, smiling at the light hearted joke. He appreciated Chief Shaw’s humour and has always responded well to him. It’s safe to say Eddie Smith liked Shaw.
‘Okay I’m getting up, what seems to be the problem besides me losing all hope and drinking the department’s liquor budget for the whole year.’
‘That’s nothing Eddie; you should see Frank’s office at the Christmas party; that man can drink!’
‘On the subject of Frank any news on his whereabouts?’ asks Eddie
Shaw reluctantly shakes his head
‘I’m afraid not sir. The man is MIA. It’s not unusual for him to go missing for days on end. I wouldn’t worry about him; he’s probably in a gutter somewhere drinking himself stupid’
‘Well at least we have that in common’
‘Well I need you down the incident room, Chase is about to go live again, according to his YOUTUBE channel’
‘Why haven’t we shut that thing down?’ asks the DA
‘We can’t sir, its beyond our derestriction, FBI would have to Subpoena Google’
‘Who said anything about them?’
‘They own YOUTUBE sir.’
‘Okay, whatever. Let’s get going then and hear what Connor has to say this time.’
Eddie smith gets up from his chair and walks with Chief Shaw over to the incident room. The place is a buzz with commotion as officers run around gathering files and intelligence. Eddie Smith looks on in confusion at the goings on; he turns to Shaw who is smiling at him.
‘What?’ Asks Eddie
‘It just looks as if you are surprised at something’
‘Yeah as a matter of fact I am, what’s with all the rushing around, don’t your people ever rest?’
‘It’s called an incident room for a reason sir; they are investigating leads on various cases including this current one’
‘Various cases, surely everyone should be focusing their attentions on Connor Chase’ Says Eddie forcefully
‘Unfortunately the people of Boston have taken to the streets and started mass looting. Some people seem to have kinship with Chase and his beliefs. A lot of people support his message.’
Eddie shakes his head infallibly
‘Only in Boston I swear! How can anyone support this man?’ asks Eddie
‘The idea of peoples information being sold on is forcing people to question their worth in society, that being said, people may not agree with terrorism, but Connors message has seemed to reach a high amount of people and could spark a city wide demonstration, which could result in mass violence.’
‘So Chase killing countless people is seen as a good thing, are these people mad?’
‘No, but they are eating up Chase’s speeches and blaming us for the killings. They want a 28 amendment.’
At that moment an officer walks over to Shaw and the DA.
‘It’s about to start Chief’ Says the Officer gingerly
The three men walk over to the big screen TV as it flashes to a live picture of Connor Chase in the usual place that people have come accustomed to seeing him stand when giving speeches. He looks as serious as ever as he stares deeply into the camera. His once white tux is now a little worse for wear as he paces back and forth, apparently not realizing he was live on TV as an off camera voice tells him of the fact. He snaps out of his haze and puts on a stern face.
‘Hello ladies and gentleman. I’m here again to discuss the progress on my purposed 28 amendment, or lack of progress shall I say. I’m severely disappointed in the lack of interest and seriousness that the so called Boston and Washington estab
lishments are showing me. I am yet to be contacted by the government that swears to protect and serve, even when their oath of protection is being challenged by me; they are still letting people die. That is unacceptable. Even for a so called terrorist, I am deeply shocked at the care free attitude that they are taking on this situation. It offends me that they would rather have people die at my hands than protect them from dyeing for their mistakes. Believe me when I say this, they are making a huge mistake in not taking me seriously. Maybe it’s my fault, maybe I should be more assertive in letting them know that I mean business. Surely the pure fact that the streets of Boston are revolting to their regime is enough to wise them up a little. But no, they play the death and blind saints that cannot see nor do no evil. I guess they have no reason to want to fully address my 28 amendment, because after all why would they want to give up possessing people’s information? Why would they want to give up currency on the black market? Why would they want to give up their only way of knowing who we really are? They can tell a lot about each and every one of us through credit card statements, web browsing behaviours, credit reports, family history, social networking profiles and internet logs. They have us under a virtual wire, a wire of oppression so they can save money on good old fashioned hard working men whose professions were to search for people, find information out, but now all they have to do is go to a yellow pages style programme and pick out the lucky candidates. Screw this government’s way of using our personal information to entrap its poor and free its rich. Screw the cock suckers who trade our information for more Tax money’
Connor paces up down some more, by now visually worked up. He signals someone behind the camera, and off screen three people walk on, hands cuffed in the front with white bags over their heads. He pushes each one of them down on the ground, so they are on their knees facing him. He pulls out his Desert Eagle and plays around with it, swinging it around his fingertips as a child would do playing Cowboys and Indians. He turns to the camera again, this time displaying more composure, Shaw and Eddie along with everyone in the incident room all look on horrified at the scene playing out in front of them.
‘So let’s make all these wrongs right. In front of me, grovelling at my feet are people employed by this heinous company. These three people are the big wigs of M.I.T and it’s my pleasure to rid the world of these tyrants. The government can save them by contacting me in the next twenty seconds agreeing to the 28 amendment and the safe passage of me and my men. If they do not agree, then every half hour I will dispatch with three more people. I have a good four hundred employees in my custody, meaning this little game could go on for a few days, if by then I run out of people to sacrifice for this governments agenda then know this, I have a few contingency plans in place to compensate for that hypothetical scenario. Your twenty seconds starts now’
Connor chase paces the room with his mobile phone in hand, parading like a king, invoking fears into the hearts of everyone in the incident room. Shaw looks at the DA speechless. Smith puts his hand on the chief’s broad shoulder.
‘We can’t do anything about it Shaw; we don’t have the power to grant him his wishes.’
‘Who can make that decision, those people need to be saved, we can’t let them die’ Says Shaw
‘Washington needs to make the call. Quite frankly I already know what their answer is going to be. It’s the United States of America’s policy not to negotiate with terrorists.’
‘Fuck policy, we need to get them out!’
‘We will, but we need to plan this out properly. There’s no use going into this thing all guns blazing and getting our men killed, along with the hostages.’
Chief Shaw nods his head in disappointment. He walks out of the incident room to the sound of three gun shots echoing and then dead silence. His face cringes at the thought of those three souls perishing, his thoughts change to finding the only man he knows that can turn this situation around. The only man he can trust in these times. The only man he feels can lead his officers into battle. His thoughts changed to finding Frank McKenzie.
Fifty
‘Shots fired I repeat shots fired, Squad B-miner in need of backup on corridor six’ Shouts an officer into his two way radio while ducking for cover firing his weapon blindly over his head. The six officers place themselves strategically around cover in the hallway, each man firing his weapon freely and on demand, none of them daring to peak over their cover positions in fear of being shot, the sound of bullets are ricocheting off the surfaces of the walls next to the defending officers, debris falls onto the first guard temporarily blinding him. For a split second his arm is visible as he flails rampantly, trying to wipe the white dust from the walls off his visor. A hissing sound pops and echoes as he takes a bullet in the arm. Blood trickles out of his wound as his body is snapped back onto the floor as he grabs at his arm screaming in pain. Two of his squad mates come to his aid; one of them collapses on the floor in the middle of the hallway as blood pours out of his neck. The remaining guard attending to the first officer looks over at his fallen comrade. He notices the bullet wound to his neck. He swallows hard as he comes to realise the fate of his team. He turns to the first officer clutching his arm.
‘Look, this guy is obviously trained. We can’t risk losing more men.’ He says
‘What do you mean, I am not dying it’s just a flesh wound.’
The commanding officer points over to the dead guard on the floor ten feet from both of them.
‘Shit! What do you suggest we do then?’ Asks the bleeding guard
The man shakes his head
‘I don’t know. I think we should just let him go to avoid any more casualties’
‘We can’t just let him go. He has killed one of our men, plus by what I could see when we came up, the crazy bastard was covered in blood! He must have killed some other people in the building, or he sweats blood either way the guy isn’t going nowhere.’
The other guard nods in agreement. He takes his two way radio out and clicks the button on the side; a noisy hissing sound escapes the speaker as he moves the radio closer to his mouth.
‘This is lieutenant Fishman; I’m radioing in for a general security check on the rest of the building, has there been any other incidents besides the one on corridor six?’
There is a long silence until the radio starts crackling back to life. The sound of bullets hissing past Fishman makes him hug the wall tighter.
‘Negative Squad B-Miner, all activities are normal.’
‘Received’ Says Fishman, he puts his two way radio back on his belt holster
‘I say we just let him go. Let’s surrender and get you and any injured to safety. I am not risking you or my men for some spy bullshit.’
The injured man agrees reluctantly with the lieutenant
‘Okay, you’re the boss’
Fishman stands up from behind cover with his hands raised.
‘We surrender. Juts go about your business; we don’t want any more casualties’ pleas Fishman
He is met with a dense cloud of dust obscuring his vision down the hallway. The smoky cloud finally clears after a few more moments of silence. The hallway in which Frank McKenzie was standing in is empty, besides from the guard’s mangled corpse on the floor. Fishman looks around and sees nothing, confusion washes across his face. He turns around to see the remainder of his men motionless on the floor leaving only him and the injured man. He turns to see the injured guard motionless on the floor; he rushes down and turns him over. A bullet hole is neatly placed in the middle of the man’s head. A cold sensation is felt on Fishman’s neck. Before he can turn around McKenzie fires. Fishman collapses onto a pool of blood as Frank walks out of corridor six.
Fifty One
The year 2006: SIX YEARS BEFORE BOARDING THE TRAIN
Mrs Gardener is standing in front of her whiteboard as she surveys her class. The attendance is much lower than her usual classes; this is due to the fact that she is hosting the ever popular after school
detention club. She hated that part of her job. She always thought how useless these proceedings were, especially since she always saw the same people in there every time she was assigned to the job. The school teachers would draw straws on whose turn it was to host the extra-curricular event. She always seemed to pull the short one. Bad luck she thought to herself.
She stood in front of her class wearing her usual appealing ware that kept the male students from spit-balling each other and the female students from liking her. She coughs out loud to draw the attention of ten students sitting in front of her with the expressions of boredom widely visible on their faces.
‘Okay boys and girls. Even though it’s end of year and all, you still find it impossible to go about your school activities without finding yourselves here. Now I’m not going to waste my time telling you people how to live your lives, so I’m giving you all this time to reflect on your behaviour leaving school and going into adult life. Please use this time allocated for you to catch up on any work that I’m sure you are falling behind on. Save all questions till the end of detention.’
The class moans consecutively and goes about their business while Mrs Gardner sits down and starts marking some papers. She goes into a work fuelled zone where the only thoughts that are rushing through her head are what she is likely to do when she gets home. A bottle of wine and a TV dinner for one she thinks to herself. The thought stops her in her tracks as she gazes out of the window for a while, taking in the sunny day and brisk wind brushing against the trees on campus. She spots someone sitting on a bench facing her direction. She immediately wonders who it is. Suddenly she feels a vibration in her jeans pocket and pulls out her mobile phone, she darts her eyes to her class and notices no one looking at her. Professional at all times.