by Luis Samways
Nathan isn’t nervous, despite his position on Connor’s crew. Any signs of uncertainty in his job, he knows could prove fatal. Not many explosive technicians have the luxury of worrying or they wouldn’t get anything done. He strives for a perfect balance. Red or blue is not a guessing game. In films it’s always red. Nathan knows that in real life, you strip the wire down, locate the correct circuit and then you know whether or not to cut the red or blue wire. He always gets it right.
Nathan notices the guard standing in front of him and snaps out of his daze, the guard extends an amused smile to him and Nathan follows the heavily armed man into Connor’s new office.
Chase stands behind his desk, looking at a painting on the wall. It is a random “Artsy” painting that has no middle or end, much like Chase’s personality.
Chase signals for the guard to leave the room, and he walks out, leaving Chase and Nathan alone. Connor looks up at Nathan’s 6 foot 3, 230 pound, brick house frame. ‘You did a brilliant job on the fire exits son,’ he says.
‘Thank you sir.’
‘Those C4 bombs will protect our building. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think things would have gone so smoothly. It’s impressive. How you could rig those exits so fast is beyond me. I’m told that people like you are rarer than a warless revolution.’
Nathan nods in agreement with Connor’s flattering remarks. ‘Thank you sir.’ ‘I’m going to cut to the chase, Nathan. You may be more valuable than I anticipated. I want to task you with interrogating one of the security guards who worked here. We believe he has the key codes to the mainframe, and we need them if we are going to succeed in destroying all of the data this M.I.T building holds.’ Nathan nodded once more. Showing initiative was the key to gaining Connor’s trust. And Connor tested every man before extending that trust. This was his test. Nathan worried for the first time in a long time. ‘What is it you want me to do exactly, sir?’
Connor walks around his desk and looks Nathan square in the eyes. Nathan can smell Chase’s cologne. He’s certain Chase smells Nathan’s fear.
‘It’s not what you can do, Nathan. It’s how you do it. I won’t have an army of prima donnas, anymore than I’ll house a bunch of pussies.’
Nathan’s train of thought kicks in and he knows this is an emotional shakedown. Nathan’s drill instructor had been a ballbuster too, so Chase’s amateur corporal persona was easy going.
‘Yes sir!’ Nathan bellowed in his best soldier voice.
Connor smiled and saluted Nathan. Connor mumbled something into the two-way radio strapped to his bullet proof vest under the once white tux. The middle aged man had a style for the revolution and a mob like swagger.
Looking at anything besides Connor’s eyes was dangerous but Nathan chanced a look at Chase’s presence. His hair was wet and sleek and combed back like a New York City mobster. Chase’s eyes were wide and the almighty penny dropped as the guard who’d escorted him in came in once again and escorted Nathan out. The pile of cocaine Nathan spotted on the table as he left would make Scarface proud.
The guard escorted Nathan silently.
‘We’re here,’ he finally said. ‘I’m going to make sure everything is ready.’ He gestures for Nathan to stay behind while he disappears behind a metal bolt-locked door. After a minute or two, the guard walks back out and signals Nathan to go in.
He cautiously follows the heavy man. The sight inside is of squalor and pain. The room is dark and littered with rubbish. A man lies on a metal table, his hands cuffed to the table leg. His arms are in an unnatural position. The guard pulls something from the man’s jacket pocket. The guard snaps it and waves it underneath the man’s nose. The man comes too and panics.
‘No no no no no no. Please don’t kill me.’ The captive squirms on the rickety metal table and the guard laughs. He backhands the man and blood spatters from the man’s nose and lands on the table. The guard wipes his knuckles on a bloody red paper towel and turns to Nathan with a twisted smile.
‘Make this bastard talk,’ he says, ‘And make it fast.’
Twenty Four
Crystal wakes after dosing off while reading her book. The lights in the train affect her vision. She breaths deeply, trying to compose herself while stretching her arms out, Her friend, Jenifer, is no longer there. Neither is Jason. She gets up from her seat and walks down the train aisle as the cabin shakes and glides down the track at high speed. When she reaches the toilet cubicles at the end of the cabin, she taps on the first door. ‘Jenifer, are you there?’ ‘There’s no Jenifer here lady,’ a man’s voice replies from inside.
She shakes her head in embarrassment and moves to the next cubicle. The sign on the door says ‘vacant’, so she moves to the third one. She hears a woman breathing heavily and the cubicle door shakes as if engulfed in its own minor earthquake. The shaking gets stronger until she hears the unmistakeable sound of the lady inside climaxing with pleasure.
A minute later, the toilet door opens and Jason steps out, looking pleased with himself. He sees Crystal leaning against the second cubicle door. She quickly looks away to hide her embarrassment. The moment is awkwardly fused into an intense and unpleasant feeling.
Jason casually shuts the toilet door behind him and moves closer to Crystal. He touches her hand and stares deeply into her flustered eyes. She immediately pulls away from his cold harsh touch.
‘Did you like what you were hearing? Or do you just enjoy spying?’ Jason’s voice is calm and seductive.
Crystal openly squirms at the question. ‘You caught me as I was about to go in to the toilet.’
Jason laughs.
‘Maybe next time you won’t have to be a spectator. Maybe you and I can have some fun.’ Jason touches Crystal’s curly brown hair. His hand follows the curve and wave to where it lies against her shoulders. ‘I’m not interested Jason. Not one bit,’ she says forcibly.
Moving closer, he leans in to the smell her perfume and to let his finger drift to the cleavage showing at the ‘v’ of her white blouse. He presses his erection against her and she dares not look at him. He laughs and walks away, leaving her standing by herself, tightening her fists.
Twenty Five
Frank’s pills are strewn all over the bathroom floor. It’s the first thing he sees as his vision kicks in. He must have blacked out. He sits up and gasps for air. ‘I got to get a handle on this,’ he mutters to himself as he straightens and picks himself up off the floor. He pats his clothes down to get the invisible feel of helplessness off him and picks up the empty pill container and gazes at it. His Veratril dependency is causing the pain, retribution and need for vengeance he knows he needs to stay even. He stands for a long while and finally comes to a decision, one he’s entertained since the moment he woke up.
He picks up the pills, puts them back in to the container and with one last look, throws it all in the waste paper basket. He smiles and walks to the broken mirror. The glimpse of himself he sees on a shard of glass remains embedded in his fragile mind. He’s a lost soul seeking answers in unlikely places.
He walks out of the bathroom and back to the incident room’s control center. Blank, expressionless agents pass, going the opposite direction. Not one of them makes eye contact, but each one acknowledges him with a candid “Sir.” Frank does nothing but nod.
Chief Shaw greets Frank with a stern look. ‘Chase will be going live in a few minutes,’ he says.
‘What have we got on Connor? What can we use to our advantage?’ Frank asks
‘I’m afraid we haven’t got anything new.’ Shaw looks weary. ‘Everyone who knows him is either dead or being held hostage.’ Frank shakes his head in disappointment. ‘Are you saying a man who blew up the downtown police precinct, and is holding his former co-workers at ransom is harder to nail than a guy done for speeding down the five seven interstate?’
‘It’s not that straightforward, Frank. Speeding tickets and infraction felonies are not dangerous cases. Sure, we could go in all guns blazing and lose m
ore hostages. But the bottom line is this, we need to plan our entrance into the building so we can neutralise the threat as quickly as possible. We can’t lose any of the hostages or even Connor or any of his men. They are more valuable to us alive than dead, or we would have nuked the place 5 hours ago.’
‘This is bullshit Chief! I’m tired of sitting here waiting for that piece of shit to dictate his terms. Why the fuck are we coddling this guy? Are we so weak we can’t put some pressure on him? Is this some pin the tail on the donkey game? This is not a game, and I am tired of people around here forgetting where they put their nuts!’ Frank draws the attention of the officers gawking at the TV set; waiting for Connor to start streaming again.
‘That’s right, keep looking. All of you should be working out a plan, not sitting here waiting for a goddamn speech. You’re voluntarily giving him your attention. That’s what he wants. We should be putting someone on point, then breeching the building and taking out those scumbags.’
Chief Shaw leans into Frank. ‘I think you should go get some rest. You’re burning yourself out, Frank. That isn’t good for any of us.’
‘You know what Chief, I’m leaving. But it isn’t to get some rest. That’s all I’ve been doing since I got here. I’m going to get the job done. I’m fed up with twiddling my thumbs, waiting for something to happen.’
‘You leave here Frank, consider yourself off the case.’
Frank smiles and walks out of the control room.
‘I mean it Frank,’ Shaw shouts. ‘Don’t you do anything stupid!’
Frank disappears and the room erupts into a low bustle of gossip.
Eddie Smith comes out of his office, curious about what is going on. Chief Shaw looks nervously at the District Attorney.
‘You okay, David?’ Eddie asks.
‘Frank McKenzie has gone on some vigilante justice spree. ’‘What are you on about? Stop him. He can’t do anything that would jeopardise the case.’
‘It’s okay, sir. A large number of agents are covering the outside of the M.I.T building it’s impenetrable, sir. No one is getting in or out without us knowing.’
‘That’s all good and well. But once Frank gets something into his head, that’s it. He’s going to do it. I’ve known Frank a very long time. The man is the most upright and straight-shooting person I know. He’s a killing machine.’
‘He’s also a man of the badge. That badge means everything to him,’ Says Chief Shaw
‘It’s the only thing he’s got since his family were killed. Then you took that away from him. He has nothing to lose.’ Shaw looks at Eddie Smith with contempt.
A senior officer walks over to the DA and the Chief. ‘Connor Chase has just gone Live,’ the officer says.
Chief Shaw and the DA follow the officer to the big screen TV. ‘You’re probably sick of seeing me by now and rightfully so. I did ruin your sunny day in Boston by murdering a bunch of people. But you, the people, the people of the United States of America, need to realise what is behind this. I’m no barbarian,’ His smile is chilling; ‘craving blood at the drop of a hatchet. I’m a man with a mission and that mission is to make the world a better place! That’s right, I said the world. I am here to bring to light the corruptness of the so called protectors of this city. They are the same people who are tasked with capturing me and sending me to prison or to my death. I am obviously talking about the Boston PD. They’re working their asses off trying to get me. The usual protocol is this: A man murders people, capture the man dead or alive within the boundaries and rules of the law. They are sticking to these rules. Apart from the obvious fact that they have yet to capture me.
But I’m not comfortable with the idea that a detective can waste the tax payer’s money talking to my former boss and then having sexual relations with her. I thought that the golden rule of police procedure was never fuck a witness.
Well these filthy bastard pigs don’t follow all the rules. I know the person who slept with Tasha, my boss. Don’t get me wrong I’m not jealous of the guy nor do I wish she had slept with me. It’s just the basic principle that an officer of the law would be so consumed with finding me and my crew and then would still find time to bang a girl just because he could? He had sex with the only witness and then watched her die at my hands. All because of his actions! Tasha would still be alive if she didn’t sleep with Frank McKenzie.’
Twenty Six
Nathan stares into the eyes of the man who is shackled to the table. He isn’t sure what to do. He knows what is expected, but does not think he can pull it off.
The man is still unconscious from the heavy backhand he received a mere quarter of an hour ago. Nathan does not have smelling salts to wake the man, nor does he want to. The longer the prisoner is knocked out, the longer Nathan has to figure this whole thing out.
Nathan stands across the room starring at the table where the man lays. He leans against the cold wall, starting to panic at the thought of being found doing nothing. If the guard walked in and found him lollygagging, there would be consequences. ‘Think Goddammit!’ Nathan mutters to himself.
The man on the table moans in pain. He tries to sit up but is restricted by shackles around his arms and legs. Nathan shoots across the room and confronts the prisoner. He puts his hand on the prisoner’s shoulder. ‘Don’t hurt me!’ the startled man begs.
Nathan tries to reassure the prisoner. ‘Don’t worry. I’m going to help you. Everything is going to be fine as long as you give them what they want.’
The prisoner cries in anguish.
‘I don’t know what they want! I haven’t done anything wrong. They picked me out from the hostages and the next thing I know, I wake up here. And then they knock me out again. Now you’re here!’
‘I can assure you that I am not going to knock you out! Just give me your name.’
‘The name’s John, People call me Hodgey though, stuck with me at high school.’
‘Okay Hodgey. Are there any reasons why these people want you interrogated?’
The man shakes his head forcefully.
‘I don’t know man. One single look and I’m dog meat.’
‘I’m sure you won’t become a dog’s dinner John.’
‘Either way I’m tied to an operating table like an animal. I feel like an inmate on death row.’
‘Nothing is going to happen to you, Hodgey. What’s your clearance level at M.I.T.? Are you on the top layer of staff here?’
The man shakes his head again.
‘I’m just a janitor. I clean all the mess: shredded paper, polystyrene cups from the water dispenser. That’s my workload, not exactly Mr Important around here.’
Nathan frowns in confusion.
‘So what could they possibly want from you?’
‘I have no idea. You tell me!’
‘I was sent to get you to talk. That’s all I know.’
Footsteps sound outside the door, coming down the hallway, these guys mean business. He grabs the mallet from the table beside the bed. It is littered with sharp objects.
The man on the table reels at the sight of the mallet and lets out a shriek. Nathan’s gloved hand covers his mouth. He raises his arm in the air in a striking motion. ‘Sorry Hodgey. I said I would not knock you out, but that’s likely the safest option for you right now. I’ll be back to free you when I can. You have my word,’ Nathan swings the mallet down hard on the man’s knee. His screams are muffled by Nathan’s large hand pressed on John’s face. The footsteps stop outside. The door opens and the guard who escorted Nathan earlier walks in looking meaner than before. The bulky man strides over and smiles. Nathan’s hand still covers John’s mouth.
‘Let him scream. Were all friends here, Nathan,’ the guard says.
Nathan releases his grip go on the man’s face and John lets out a massive scream.
‘My knee. My Goddamn knee, you bastard!’ John shouts in agony.
The guard looks at John’s shattered knee.
‘Stop being a baby!
You’ll be fine as long as you tell us what you know. Lucky for you, our friend Nathan here knows nothing about breaking knee caps. Yours is not broken. It’s dislocated. You will walk again if you tell me what I want to know,’ the hefty guard says, grabbing the mallet out of Nathan’s grip.
‘I told you everything I know… honestly… I’m not lying…..’ The guard swings the mallet and hits him on the jaw, instantly knocking John unconscious. The sound of the impact is harsh in the cold silence of the room. The guard hands Nathan the mallet.
‘When he wakes up, go for round two.’
Twenty Seven
Crystal sits in silence, unsure what to say to her best friend. Crystal never thought of herself as a prude, but she has always made sure Jenifer and her friends make the right decisions. She hated when the people she knew threw everything away for cheap thrills. Crystal has only ever been in one intimate relationship. That lasted for five years until she realized the guy was playing the field behind her back. Jenifer avoids eye contact with her. Jason had dozed off in the seat next to her. Crystal signalled Jenifer to get up and follow her. She did. Crystal made her way to the toilets; Jenifer followed her friend into one of the cubicles. Crystal locked the door behind her.
‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Crystal asks.
Jenifer smiles and shakes her head. ‘I can do what I like. I don’t need permission from you, Crystal.’
‘You don’t know this guy from anywhere. You don’t know who he has slept with or what sort of guy he is.’
Jenifer’s tainted chuckle angers Crystal even more.
‘Say what you want to say, but what happened…happened. End of story.’
‘What did happen?’
Jenifer laughs again.
‘The best sex I’ve had in a long while.’
Jason presses his ear against the door of the cubicle to listen. He smiles a sinister yet goofy smile. The smile could stop a person in his tracks. The smile could make anyone question the sanity of the person wearing it. His eyes grow wider with every word flowing from the other side of the door. His lips grow dry, prompting him to lick them as a lion might lick his before devouring its prey.