“Where…. Where are we going?”
“To see Robins.”
Wellis began chuckling before he burst into laughter. “You’ll never get in there. Every agent on our payroll is on shift tonight.”
“I know.”
“How could you know that?”
“Ratliff told me…”
“Ratliff?” asked Wellis, a sense of panic in his voice. Maybe he thought Ratliff had betrayed them. Maybe he had grown a conscious. “Where is he?”
“Dead.”
“You murdered him?” asked Wellis, sounding a bit relieved.
“I abducted, tortured, then murdered him.” The door to Wellis’ car opened with a high-end crisp. Wellis groaned as he was shoved in. The door slammed as I texted the audio to Johnson. A smooth hum emitted from the engine bay after a couple cranks. A couple clicks on the column shifter and the car eased out of the parking lot. “I’ve got to get a few things.”
“Where are you taking me.”
“My car,” I replied, driving his luxury piece of shit towards my baby. My trunk popped, the dim light revealing my black backpack. After lighting a smoke, I grabbed it and returned to Wellis’ car.
“Don’t smoke—”
“Shut up. You’ve got bigger things to worry about than cigarette smoke.” I unzipped the bag and pulled the med kit from it. “Give me your leg. Now.” He struggled and propped his leg across the center console. Wellis groaned as I dumped and rubbed the coagulant powder on his wounds. Gentle wasn’t exactly the method I used. “That’ll stop the bleeding, maybe.” Afterwards, I opened the syringe and drew a small bit of morphine into it. My fingernails flicked against the syringe before I jabbed the needle into his leg. “That’ll ease the pain. I’m doing this because I’ll need you to walk.”
“What are you planning?” he asked.
“Shut up. Just do what I say.” A few seconds later, my phone began vibrating. It was Johnson. “Sir,” I answered.
“Logan, what the hell was that? Is that what it sounded like?”
My finger mashed the speakerphone button. “It was. Say hi to Senator Wellis of Virginia.”
“Senator Wellis? I thought that sounded like him.”
“Who the fuck are you?!” demanded Wellis.
“Now, Senator,” replied Johnson. “It seems to me that you’re in quite a deal of trouble and my friend doesn’t seem very pleased. If I were you, I would not make any demands.” Wellis remained quiet.
“Senator Wellis,” I said. “Please, tell Colonel Johnson how many of your congressional colleagues are involved.”
“Fuck you both,” he snarled.
My sidearm was quickly drawn and pressed against his temple. “Don’t make me ask again.”
“Every state,” he mumbled. “At least one representative from every state. Some states, all are in on it.”
“My, my,” replied Johnson. “And how long has this been going on?”
“Decades,” replied Wellis. “The nineties at least. It wasn’t so widespread until President Allers took office.”
“I see. He authored the bill that reduced elected official’s salaries and benefits. Allers is credited with taking the power out of being a career politician. It was his hope that he could get more representatives in office that cared more about helping their country than chasing a paycheck…” Johnson paused for a moment. “But I still don’t quite understand. Even newly elected Senators on their first term clear six figures and still have some of the best health benefits and retirement in the country.”
Wellis chuckled, clearly becoming high from the dose of morphine. “You don’t get it. There’s never enough money. This was easy money for us all. A beloved system that no one questions? The ASA, only the highest ranking agents making a decent wage? Of course they were eager to jump in on it. How the hell do you think we’ve gone unnoticed for so long? And the ones who did notice?” Wellis grinned, his eyes closed tightly. “We killed them… Or worse.”
“Worse?” asked Johnson.
“Go on, tell him,” I demanded, pushing his head with the barrel of my weapon.
“We sold them. Especially the women. Teenage boys. A lot of sick fucks in the world pay a high price for those types.”
“God all mighty,” mumbled Johnson. “Logan, we need him alive.”
“He won’t be roughed up too bad. I only shot him twice.”
“You shot him?” asked Johnson, shocked.
“I already treated his wound and gave him a dose of morphine. He’ll be fine.”
“Get him to DC immediately.”
“Can’t do that,” I replied.
“Why not, Logan?”
“I’ve got unfinished business with Robins.”
“What business?” Johnson asked hesitantly.
“He’s still alive.”
“Logan,” replied Johnson with a low tone. “You bring Wellis to DC now. With the evidence you’ve provided the SECDEF and POTUS will issue a nationwide state of emergency and declare martial law.” Johnson took a deep breath. “We need Wellis Alive! Without him to confirm all this, it’ll fall apart!”
“Help me, then.”
“Goddammit, Logan,” mumbled Johnson. “How am I going to help you?”
I shifted the car into gear and pulled out. “I’m on my way to the Grundy agency building. I know the floorplan well enough, but they’ll be able to call for reinforcements as soon as I engage. I need to know where the main power conduit is and if there are backup generators.”
“Give me a minute,” mumbled Johnson. A couple minutes of silence passed while Johnson searched for the information I needed. “I found it. It’s a retrofitted theater. That’s good. The main power conduit wasn’t moved, it’s on the bottom floor of the parking garage. Should be a large box, you can’t miss it.”
“Backup generators?”
“Small one. They’ll lose all systems but retain emergency lighting for a few minutes then it all goes dark.”
“Landline phones?”
“None. It all uses the internet. Cut the power, cut the phones.”
“They’ll still have radios,” I remarked.
“You let me handle that. The ASA uses a specific wavelength… But it may take some time.”
“Maybe fifteen minutes before I’m near the agency.”
“I’m calling SECDEF now. As soon as the state of emergency is put into place, the radio towers will go offline almost immediately. Then troops will deploy to apprehend all congressional representatives and relieve the ASA of power. I’m not going to lie, Logan. This may get ugly.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Thank me by keeping that snake alive.”
“Will do.” The phone clicked as Johnson ended the call. I shoved the phone into my pocket and looked over to Wellis. “Do exactly what I say, and I won’t kill you.”
“What’s it matter?” he asked through giggles. “They’ll put me on trial for treason and I’ll be dead in a couple of weeks anyway. We won’t go quietly, though.”
“That just means we can skip the trial.”
“Maybe,” he replied. “Or maybe they can’t get us all. Maybe one of us will get that niece of yours or that pretty little brunette.”
“Fuck you,” I scoffed.
“Hah,” he boasted. “I wouldn’t expect any less from Thomas Lee Logan. I knew you’d be trouble.”
Tires squealed as I slammed on the brakes. I grabbed Wellis and pulled him closer, forcing my hands into his coat pockets. My heart sank when I removed his cell. It was on and connected to a call with an unknown number. Some kind of encryption. “Who the fuck is this?” I demanded, screaming into the phone. “So help me God, if you go near them I will kill you!” The call disconnected. I smashed the phone repeatedly on the steering wheel before I threw it at Wellis. “No matter, Robins will be dead soon.”
Wellis laughed. A maniacal laughter that echoed in the pits of my soul. “You think I’d call Robins? I don’t care if he dies. This shithole
isn’t exactly that important when compared to other areas of operations.”
“Shut the fuck up!” I screamed.
“Fine… fine,” he replied, laughing. “Let’s go kill the big bad ASA agents. Save the country.”
Tires screamed as the accelerator smashed against the floor. I had to end this now; I had to make sure they were okay. The Senator’s car slowly cruised by the agency building. As soon as I pulled in, I wouldn’t have long to cut the power. My hands grasped the pistol grip of the M4 tightly as the car pulled into the bottom floor of the garage. A few POV’s were parked, all exceptionally nice, along with a few cruisers. The window of Wellis’ car slowly rolled down as I neared the conduit box. My thumb clicked the fire selector from semi to three round burst. A pull of the trigger and sparks flew from the box. Another pull and the garage lights were out. The power was gone.
I grabbed my backpack and exited the vehicle and got in the back seat with the barrel of my M4 pointed at Wellis. “Drive to the top. One wrong move and I’ll splatter your brains on the windshield, understand?”
“I do,” he replied.
Wellis got out and hobbled to the driver’s side and got in. My original plan was to have Wellis walk me in, then I’d just unload on whoever was there, find Robins and kill him. I had to be fast, I couldn’t get into a drawn-out firefight, not now. Not with the threat towards Shey and Sara. I needed to bait them out. Wellis couldn’t be risked, so he needed to stay in the car. Couldn’t risk him driving away after rounds started flying, either. The best option was for him to take a nap. I drew some morphine into the syringe. Not a lethal dose, but he’d be out for quite a while.
The car neared the entrance to the agency. “Pull around sideways. My window facing the door.” I hunkered down in the backseat, out of sight. Once Willis brought the car to a stop, the needle did its job. His head tilted sideways almost instantly. This was it. I pushed him forward, his head laying on the horn. The thermal scope was more hindrance than anything in this situation, so I pulled it off the rail and tossed it. I laid back across the seat on my back, aiming my M4 up and towards the window. A click released the magazine that was nearly spent. Quickly, I snapped a new one in place and waited for my enemies.
A few moments later, a couple of agents approached the vehicle. “What the hell is this?” asked a female.
“Is that Senator Wellis?” asked a male.
The door opened, and I squeezed the trigger. Three rounds into the female agent’s chest. She fell to the ground as I raised up, firing three more rounds at the male agent who was attempting to draw his weapon. The back door opened and I rushed out. Another agent was rushing out the agency door. Three rounds before he could get the door completely open. He fell to the ground along with the shattered glass of the door. I jumped through the door, then turned my sights towards the lobby counter. An agent got off a couple rounds but was panicked and they didn’t even come close to hitting me. She fired once more into the air as three of my rounds went through her neck.
A loud bang echoed and I felt the sting on my shoulder. I was hit. My legs carried me as quick as they could towards the lobby counter. I dived across it and scrambled to take position. My back rested against the bottom counter as shotgun fire chipped away at the countertop. The sting in my left shoulder was becoming more apparent. Hesitantly, I glanced over. Maybe a few pellets were inside my shoulder. Only minor tattering was evident on my sweatshirt. My right hand covered my left shoulder. I removed it and stared at the blood glowing in the dim light.
The shotgun fire ceased and was replaced by the sound of a clicking radio. “This is Commander Robins, does anyone copy?”
Clicking of that nature on the radio was recognizable. Comms were down. That meant Johnson had succeeded in getting the SECDEF to issue a state of emergency. “It’s over, Robins.”
“Who the fuck are you?” he asked.
“You know who I am.”
“Logan?” he asked, shocked. “You’re dead.”
“I’m hard to kill.”
Shotgun fire bounced off the countertop once more. The sound of him cocking the weapon echoed through the empty agency. “We’ll find out how hard it is. My agents will be back soon.”
“They’re dead.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. “They can’t be dead.”
“Ratliff… Killed him yesterday. Wilson, Sells, whoever those other lackeys were… And your dope pushers. All dead.” My lungs filled with air as I fished for my pack of smokes in my pocket. I lit the cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “They were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sound familiar?”
“You’ve done this over one overachieving bitch?” Robins fired another round towards me. “If the bitch had just gone home instead of working late, she’d still be here.”
“If you weren’t a corrupt bastard and having people sling dope, she’d still be here!” I screamed. “And don’t even get me started on the slaves you’ve been procuring. How many people have died for your little sideline? How many brothers have lost their sisters? How many daughters have lost their mothers? And how many people have lost all they had left?” Robins remained quiet for a few moments. “Fucking answer me!” I screamed.
“What do you want me to say, Logan? That I feel bad? That I’m sorry.” I could hear him stepping closer. “Well, I’m not. People die. It’s a tough world. Shit happens.”
“Why don’t you come over here and say that?” I was hoping he’d rush me. In the position I was currently in, there wasn’t a way out. My CS grenades were in my backpack that was in Wellis’ car. I was pinned down. “Come on, Robins. You’ve got the better position. What’re you waiting for?” At that moment I dropped my magazine and loaded a fresh one. Robins was easing closer. Not much could be heard, but I suppose it was instinct telling me so.
Robins fired once more. This time the shot penetrated the countertop, chipping some of it away just above my head. He was close. “Give up, Logan, and I’ll make it quick.”
“It doesn’t matter if you kill me.”
“I kill you, file some papers and circulate a story about some crazed conspiracy theorist. It’ll be all over the news for a while but it’ll go away.”
“Your radio doesn’t work, Robins.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Think, you fucking moron. If those radios aren’t working, that means the towers are down. I didn’t take them out. Who do you think did? It’s over. The military is probably already mobilizing and on their way here… And every agency in the country. Let’s not talk about what’s going to happen to your pals in Congress.”
Robins fired off another shot. I flinched my head down as wood chips dropped and bounced down my body. “You’re bluffing,” he screamed.
“Am I?” I replied. “The senator is in the middle of a drug-induced nap. Your corrupt agents are dead. What hope would I have if I didn’t have help? Where would I have got the means or the resources to pull this off?”
“You… You son of a bitch,” he mumbled.
Robins entered a rage-fueled charge. This was my chance, my only chance. My eyes gazed up carefully, watching, waiting. The barrel of his shotgun came across first as he attempted to hop the counter. My hands were swift. They latched on to the barrel and pulled him across the countertop. He fired off a shot, peppering the wall, as he crashed to the floor and dropped his weapon. With all my might, I lunged my body on top of his. My fists struck his face time and time again while he attempted to grab my arms. His fingers found their way into my wound. Pain shot through my body and I couldn’t help but scream as the strength left my left arm. Robins rolled me over and began pummeling me. My forearms came up, guarding my face. My legs struggled out from under him and locked around his waist. I shifted my legs, pushing him back as he swung at me once more. I grabbed his arm, pulling it down to my right and rolling him.
My fists released their fury once more. His head bounced against the floor while blood poured from his
mouth and nose. “You murderous bastard!” I screamed, grabbing his head and smashing it repeatedly against the ground. Finally, he quit struggling and slipped out of consciousness. I panted, struggling to catch my breath. My face stung. Not exactly fond of admitting it, but Robins packed a bit of a punch. My legs trembled as I stood. It was done. All that was left was killing Robins. I grabbed him and dragged him through the lobby and into the conference room. He was heavy; it stung like hell to lift him, but I manage to prop him into an office chair. I removed the cuffs from his belt and cuffed his hand to the chair. My thoughts shifted to Wellis. I couldn’t leave him outside in case he woke up.
Walking outside, I was relieved, yet chaotic inside. I asked myself repeatedly what I had done and why. Shey and Sara didn’t approve. Angel wouldn’t have. She would’ve just wanted us to move on and be happy… But I couldn’t. I’ve always had this bad habit of doing what I believed was right… Even if it did spill a lot of blood. There’s no telling how many people I killed in the war. My confirmed kill count was over three hundred, but many more was never confirmed. Left off the record. I killed quite a few in service to the ASA. It all seemed like a hundred lifetimes ago.
Wellis was still out cold, his pompous head still blaring the horn. I jerked him out and tossed him on the ground, then grabbed my backpack. Next, I removed another set of cuffs from a dead agent and dragged Wellis to the conference room. He went without a fuss unless you count a few moans and groans. The emergency generator kicked off, killing what little lighting there was. All that was left was the dim glow from the streetlight shining in from the blinds. I cuffed Wellis’ hand to his shot up leg and propped him up in the corner. My Kevlar vest hurt my shoulder as I slid it off and tossed it down. I pulled the duct tape from my bag and taped Robins’ mouth shut. There was this need in me to tell that prick everything I had went through to kill him. Everything my family suffered. Everything that happened because he killed Angel Kennedy. This was as much her story as mine.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Johnson. “Logan, are you alright?” he asked with an urgent tone.
“It’s done,” I answered.
A Tommy Logan Story Page 20