The Immortal Harvest

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The Immortal Harvest Page 20

by L. J. Wallace


  The young officer took a step back and looked at the Coroner.

  “It’s ok Roger, I’ll look after them,” Dan said as he dismissively waved his hand at the Coroner and then frowned at Drew. He waited for the Coroner to move around to the other side of the van.

  “I don’t understand why you are here? I mean, why is the FBI here? This is a standard ‘death of a homeless person’ case.”

  Durning watched as Drew moved closer to the young officer and tried to disguise her anguish.

  “We are investigating the disappearance of an agent. This is the locality of his last known whereabouts. We need to know what you know.

  Let’s start with the deceased. Can we take a look so we can at least cross the deceased off our list?”

  Durning watched as the young officer nodded and then walked back to the body bag and unzipped it. He then moved to the front of the van and returned with an evidence bag.

  “All we know is that the deceased is a ‘John Doe’, he has no identification.

  However we did find this hip flask in one of the pockets. It has the initials DB engraved on it. As soon as we get any trace off of it we will let you know.”

  Durning could see the distraught look on Drew’s face.

  “Hang on Drew let’s not jump to any conclusions ok,” he said as he crouched down and pulled the bag aside to expose the face of the victim and exhaled a long breath.

  “It’s not him; this is some really old guy. What’s your take on the cause of death Dan?”

  “It’s too early to say, but if I had to guess, it was probably natural causes. The body is in bad shape. I’d say that this guy has been on the streets for a long time.”

  Durning frowned as he zipped the bag back up and stood up. He extended his hand to the young officer again.

  “Thanks for your help Dan. I think we have all that we need. Can you get your lab to put a rush on that flask and send us a copy of anything they find?”

  “Sure no problem,” Dan said as he shook both Durning’s and Webster’s hands.

  “Just let me know if there is anything else you might need.”

  “Thanks Dan. Do you mind if Drew and I take a quick look around before we go?”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem; it looks like we have pretty much got the scene wrapped up anyway,” Dan said as he waved to the team who were packing up their equipment.

  Durning left Drew behind to talk to Dan and started walking towards the area that had been taped up.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started taking a few photos of the area.

  By the time Agent Webster had caught up with him he had taken a dozen photographs and had a close look at the piles of discarded cardboard that had been strewn around.

  He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there was something about the disarray of the cardboard that piqued his curiosity. He pointed to the scene as he spoke to Drew.

  “Check out this scene. Does something not seem quite right to you?”

  Durning waited until Drew had had a look around and he noticed her expression change as if she had had an epiphany.

  “Well, what is it?”

  He watched as Drew bent down and took a closer look at the ground and then stepped back.

  “It looks like there had been some kind of struggle take place here. Can you see those scuff marks? And… wait a minute,” Drew said as she moved back towards the cardboard, bent down and pulled a plastic zip tie from under one of the pieces.

  She smiled as she held up the zip tie by her thumb and index finger and held it out so that Durning could see what it was.

  “I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but I recognised that hip flask. It was the boss’s. I would say that he was here at some point.

  “He either gave it to the dead guy or he dropped it. Whatever happened, the old guy ended up with it and the boss has been taken by someone.” Durning said half jokingly as he looked up towards the top of the buildings.

  “I’m not sure why they left the old guy behind; maybe they killed him before they beamed up the Boss.”

  “Are you serious? This is evidence of a classic normal abduction; I doubt little green men had anything to do with the Boss’s disappearance.

  “I hardly think they would use a zip tie in an abduction scenario and anyway, I think we need to see if there is anyone around here who might have seen anything or anyone,” Drew said as she started walking up the alley.

  Durning stopped and took another look up the building opposite the crime scene. He noticed that there was someone watching them from one of the windows.

  “How about we start with asking the guy who’s watching us from that window?” Durning said as he began walking towards the entrance to the derelict building.

  “But what are we going to do about the Boss’s car Jason?

  “Shouldn’t we get our own forensics team down here?” Drew said as she made her way back down the alley.

  Durning saw her pull her mobile phone out of her pocket. He waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

  “Yeah, yeah we’ll get onto that, let’s just talk to that guy first before he disappears,” Durning said as he strode up to the front entrance to the building and pressed all of the intercom buzzers. He smiled as he heard Drew’s reply.

  “Seriously Jason I’m getting really worried about this alien obsession of yours.”

  “Let’s just keep an open mind shall we,” Durning said as he waited for the front door unlock buzzer.

  He drew his weapon from its holster and barged in through the door. He didn’t wait for his partner’s reply.

  Durning strode quickly and quietly up the stairway, taking the steps three at a time. He considered himself to be fairly athletic so the stairs were not a challenge.

  He thought of the disappearance of his boss and smiled at the irony of him looking for the man that Durning knew despised him.

  He didn’t care that Baxter hated him. He loved being an FBI agent. He knew that it was a lot more satisfying than his last job where everyone hated him.

  He had been an Intelligence Analyst for a UK based Multinational Defence Contractor in the Middle East.

  He had despised every minute of it. The constant battle against an inept middle and upper management whose only concern was lining their pockets and pandering to their mega rich clients, eventually proved too much for him.

  When he had confronted his boss about the obvious corruption and double standards taking place his reply was basically that if he wasn’t happy he should leave. Durning left the following day.

  Those pencil pushers lost themselves an excellent Intelligence Analyst, he thought as he banged on the door of the witness’ apartment.

  “Open up, FBI!” he yelled and then moved to the side of the door as he waited as his partner arrived.

  He signalled for her to cover him. After three seconds of no reply and in a routinely choreographed move he jumped in front of the door, raised his leg and smashed the door off its hinges.

  Now this job is a lot more satisfying, he thought as both Drew and himself charged into the room with their weapons drawn.

  Twenty Nine

  Joe wished he had the energy that the young boy had as he was dragged up the corridor. Thankfully the fire alarm had stopped. His ears still rang.

  He clutched the sheet to his body as he lumbered behind the boy. He tried to be as quiet as he could.

  They stopped frequently to peer surreptitiously into the rooms; he did not want to end up in one of those operating theatres. He wasn’t quite sure what the hell was going on but he knew that, judging by the way he had been drugged and kidnapped, it wasn’t good.

  Even though the boy was only young, he had a hell of a grip on his hand. He was also suddenly feeling very tired. He guessed that whatever drugs the kidnappers had used was still in his system.

  “Hey, hows about we slow up a bit eh? Old Joe’s a might tired,” he whispered as he slowed down and felt the tug on his arm.
/>   “Please Joe, we have to hurry. Mummy might be hurt.”

  Joe could see the anguish on the boy’s face. He admired the boy’s dedication to finding his Mother. He also realised how brave the boy was to be so calm in the circumstances.

  Of course he also realised that cracks were beginning to show. He knew the signs of stress from his combat days.

  He had listened intently as Justen had relayed to him how the voice of his Father in his head had helped him to escape from his bonds. Joe had listened quietly as the boy spoke.

  He understood the delusion; he had seen firsthand how the how the horror of war had manifested in the mind of some of the troops.

  He was just about to respond to the boy’s request when he heard footsteps approaching. They were near a set of crash doors that formed an entryway into the next corridor.

  He looked around to see if there was an escape path. There was no time to react. He pulled Justen to him and whispered for him to stand with his back to the wall whilst he crouched in behind one of the doors.

  Suddenly the door burst open and Joe sprang at the man that had entered their corridor and crash-tackled him to the ground.

  He landed heavily on the back of the man and he heard him let out a grunt as they both impacted the tiles. He noticed that the man was wearing the clothes of an intern.

  Joe moved quickly to subdue the man and with his knee in the guy’s spine, he struggled to pull one of his arms up behind his back. He clamped his hand across his mouth.

  “Make one move mister and I’ll break ya arm, y’hear?” He whispered hoarsely into the intern’s ear. He could feel his head nodding acknowledgement to his question.

  “Justen, come over here and check his pockets while I hold ’im down,” Joe said to Justen who leant further back towards the wall and shook his head. Joe could see that he was scared.

  “C’mon boy, he aint gonna hurt ya. He aint goin’ no wheres, are ya mista?” Joe said as he twisted the arm further, eliciting a groan of pain from his captive.

  Justen slowly crept towards the two men and then bent down and carefully slid his hand into the right pocket of the intern’s coat.

  Joe could see a surprised expression on the young boy’s face as he slowly pulled out a handgun and gave it to Joe.

  “Well well, what have we got here? That’s a mighty fancy weapon for an intern. Whatcha got in the other pocket? You be careful boy, he could have anythin’ in there.” Joe said sternly and then gave the arm another twist.

  His captive shook his head and tried to speak.

  “No! Don’t…..”, Joe clamped his hand tighter to silence the intern.

  “You keep quiet – go ahead boy.”

  Joe watched as Justen felt inside the other pocket and heard him let out a sharp yelp of pain.

  As Justen pulled his hand out Joe could see the source of his pain. Justen had a syringe imbedded in the palm of his hand. Justen quickly pulled it out and then whispered “Help me Joe….” as he collapsed on the ground beside him.

  Instinctively, Joe grabbed Justen’s wrist and felt for a pulse, he was relieved to find one but then a surge of anger rushed through him and he yanked back hard on his captive’s arm.

  “What’s in that needle mister? If you’ve harmed the boy you’re a dead man,” Joe said as he pulled his hand away from the intern’s face to let him answer. At the same time he pushed down harder onto the man’s spine as he pressed the gun into his captive’s temple.

  The man grunted and struggled to speak through the pain.

  “I tried… to… warn you. The…boy… is…alright. He’s just asleep. It’s….a sedative.”

  “He better be alright ya hear? Who are you people? I don’t know what’s goin’ ere but I know you lot are up to no good.”

  “My name is Baxter, I’m with the FBI. I’m on your side.”

  “You don’t look like no FBI agent mister Baxter.

  “You look like one of them fellas thats had me tied to a bed,” Joe said as he twisted his victim’s arm harder and twisted his head around to have a closer look at his face.

  He heard the victim grunt harder and his pleading became more insistent.

  “Listen to me, the boy’s name is Justen Peters he is looking for his Mother. If you let me up I can take you to her.”

  Joe relaxed his grip slightly and looked sideways at his victim.

  “How do you know he’s lookin’ for his Mama?”

  “Look Joe, I’ve already told you, I am an FBI agent. We have a file with their photos in it. Now get the hell off me before I have you arrested for obstruction.”

  Joe looked across at Justen who was still motionless on the ground.

  “Ok, I’ll let you up but you better not be lying to me, ya hear?

  “Just in case I’m gonna keep this gun on ya and you’re gonna carry the boy to his Mama. If you are telling the truth I’ll give ya back ya gun ok?” Joe said gruffly as he let Baxter’s arm go and took his knee out of his back. He stood back and let Baxter get to his feet.

  * * *

  Baxter’s initial surprise had given way to anger and a degree of humiliation when he realised that he had just been subdued by what appeared to be a much older man, although he had some consolation when he spied the Special Forces tattoo on the old man’s arm.

  He stood up slowly, his body aching from being held down, especially his arm. He rubbed his arm and took a breath. He knew he had to choose his words carefully.

  “As I said my name is Baxter, Senior Special Agent Baxter of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I was in the field gathering Intel. I was attacked and I woke up in this hospital. In fact I was looking for Justen and his Mother.

  I managed to locate his Mother in this hospital not more than an half an hour ago. I freed her and asked her to assist some other captives to escape whilst I went for back up.”

  “Are there other FBI folk coming?” Joe asked sarcastically. “Where are they? Are they dressed like interns too?”

  “They will be here soon.” Baxter lied. He needed Joe to think that he was not alone.

  Unfortunately he could tell that Joe seem unconvinced. He bent down to pick up Justen, cognizant of the fact that Joe was keeping the weapon pointed towards him.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to aim that thing at me while I’m carrying a child do you?”

  “Don’t you worry mister; if I have to I’ll shoot you in the head and catch the boy before you hit the ground.”

  Baxter could see the determined look on the old man’s face and he realised that he should not underestimate him. Besides that, he also realised that if he played his cards right, Joe would make a great back-up for him against Stringer and any other bad guys in this house of horrors.

  He knew that without his medication, it was only a matter of time before the insidious presence in his brain rendered him ineffective.

  As they made their way up the corridor, Baxter in front carrying Justen, and Joe closely behind them, he realised that someone had to have reset the Fire Alarm and they could have only have done that from the Security Control office.

  He also realised that this office would have been the perfect place for someone to access all of the building’s security cameras.

  I bet Stringer is monitoring the security cameras, he thought as he suddenly felt very uneasy as he watched the little red light on the camera slowly blinking as if it were scrutinising them as they passed.

  He hefted the unconscious form that he was carrying to redistribute the load. Even though Justen was only six, he was beginning to get heavy. He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the pain in his shoulder.

  As he struggled, he felt a wave of nausea roll over him as the throbbing in his head also intensified. He took a deep breath and suppressed the nausea and the pain. He knew that he needed his medication but also knew that his own needs would have to wait.

  The boy and his Mother were a lot more important. He had to safe guard them and gain Joe’s trust if he were to
take down Stringer.

  He still felt a little bit confused as to the relevance of Stringer and his relationship to this house of horrors. Lingering questions persisted. He decided to analyse them later, for now he needed to get to Sylvan before Stringer did and get the boy and his Mother to safety ASAP.

  Thirty

  Murdoch was fuming. He had just finished delivering a fresh body to the hospital when he received a call from the super bitch.

  He was all set to get his fill of beers and whores. He had even planned to ditch the deadwood and drop Judas off at his old ladies house.

  All I wanted was a few hours on my own for fuck sake, he thought as he swung on the steering wheel and headed in the direction of the homeless refuge.

  The super bitch had given him his orders, he didn’t like them but he had no choice, as long as they were lining his pockets, he kept providing his unique services. He had picked up the briefcase and received his briefing. His pocket bulged with a fresh wad of cash.

  He looked across at Judas and saw the usual vacant visage. He felt a huge amount of contempt for the man. He was a moron.

  If he wasn’t my sister’s boyfriend I would have dumped his body with the Doc as soon as I met him, he thought as he snorted and then wound down his window and spat a huge wad of phlegm into the path of a passing taxi.

  He wound the window back up as heard the familiar whine from beside him.

  “Where the fuck are we going Murdoch?”

  Murdoch stared out through the windscreen and grumbled his answer. “I’ve already told you Judas, we have an important errand to undertake.”

  “Huh? What errand, I thought you were gonna drop me off. I thought we’d finished.”

  “We’ve been re-tasked. There’s been a change of plans.”

  “What the fuck are ya talking about? I gotta go home, Missy is expecting me.”

  “Yeah, well stiff shit, Missy can wait. Here, call her and tell her you’ll be late,” Murdoch said gruffly as he threw his mobile phone at Judas. “And give that phone straight back, you’ll break the fucking thing.”

 

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