Taken! 13-18 (Donald Wells' Taken! Series)

by Donald Wells

  Jeffrey’s reverie was broken by the sound of voices outside in the hall. The door opened and Traci Vargas entered, she was carrying a tray that held Jeffrey’s dinner.

  “Here’s your dinner, Mitchell.”

  “Thank you, Officer Vargas,”

  “Don’t thank me. I hope you choke on it.”

  Jeffrey laughed.

  “At least you’re honest.”

  Traci headed for the door.

  “I’ll be back for that tray at six.”

  “Why not sit and have a talk with me? It’s not often that someone like you gets to meet a celebrity, and listen, hear that? That’s the sound of my adoring fans.”

  “Fans? Those people despise you. If I could, I’d let them have you, then you would see how adored you really are.”

  “Why not do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Why not hand me over to them? You obviously hate me, they hate me, so why not let them have me?”

  “Everyone gets their day in court, even you.”

  “Ah, so you think I’m innocent, hmm?”

  “With dozens of bodies found on your property? No, you’re guilty.”

  “Yes I am, and I’ll tell you something, I enjoyed killing every damn one of those girls.”

  Vargas made a face of disgust.

  “You are one sick piece of shit, Mitchell.”

  “And what should be my sentence?”

  “Death.”

  “Then why not take out your gun and shoot me?”

  “Because it’s against the law,”

  “But if you shot me dead, I could no longer hurt anyone. If I go to prison, I might kill a fellow inmate, or even a guard, a guard with a wife and kids, and since you refused to kill me when you had the chance, their deaths will be on your hands.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “How so? You think I deserve death, you have a gun, and yet, you refuse to kill me. Perhaps you’re not so honest after all, eh?”

  Vargas shoved his food towards him, before opening the door.

  “Eat. I’m not here to play games.”

  “I’ll see you later, Officer Vargas.”

  Vargas walked out of the room and just stood there. A moment later, and she gave out a little shiver of disgust.

  ***

  Outside the hospital, two men stood at the edge of the crowd, and watched.

  “I don’t know about this, Billy. I saw at least three Feds in the lobby and I’d bet money that the guy over there with the ‘Justice Now!’ sign is an undercover cop.”

  “He is a cop, but he’s not undercover. Mitchell killed his daughter too; in fact, he killed most of these people’s daughters.”

  “Even if we get him away from the Feds, then what? They’ll hunt us down.”

  “You worry too much, Dave, don’t you know by now that I’ve always got a plan.”

  “So what’s your plan this time?”

  Billy grinned, as he watched two middle-aged men climb out of identical, black pickup trucks. The men appeared to be brothers, and both wore T-shirts bearing the likeness of a teenaged girl.

  “I think my plan just arrived. Look at those two over there.”

  Dave Cully studied the men.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So, we give the Feds someone else to look for, know what I mean?”

  Cully let out a little laugh.

  “I get it.”

  Billy patted him on the back.

  “Call the boys and tell them to be ready; we’re taking Mitchell tonight.”

  ***

  At nine o’clock, Traci Vargas sat her book down and smiled in greeting at Officer Tyrone Davis, as she watched him walk towards her.

  “Hey Ty, how’s it going?”

  “Good Traci, any problems?”

  “None, now he’s all yours till six a.m.”

  Davis shook his head.

  “The chief said to tell you to be back here by five, the Feds are transferring this creep out of here then.”

  “Good, I only wish we could find his wife.”

  “I thought the FBI said she’s gone into hiding?”

  “They did, but Dr. White says different, and I think she’s right about that phone message being a trick, so stay sharp.”

  “I will, and watch out for the mob out there, it’s gotten bigger.”

  “Those poor people, well, goodnight Ty,”

  “Goodnight.”

  Vargas walked down the hall and turned left, to head for a rear staircase. As the door on the staircase closed behind her, Hanna emerged from a utility closet. She was dressed in a police uniform and her hair was dyed black and worn in the same style that Vargas wore hers.

  She carried a knife, and as she walked towards Jeffrey’s room, she used it to cut her forearm. She then rounded the corner, bleeding, and called for help.

  Davis jumped up from his chair.

  “Traci? Shit, how’d you cut yourself?”

  Hanna kept walking towards him with her head down, as blood dripped in her wake.

  Davis realized his mistake an instant before Hanna thrust the knife into his chest. Before he could cry out, Hanna gave the knife a twist and punctured his heart.

  No sooner had the body hit the floor then Hanna had her hand on his gun, and afterwards, his keys.

  As she opened the door and peeked in the room, she found Jeffrey grinning at her.

  “Now see, this is why I love you,”

  Hanna ran to him, and soon he was free.

  ***

  Traci was opening the door on the police car when she suddenly stopped short.

  “Damn, I forgot my book,” she muttered.

  She considered retrieving it in the morning, but then decided to go back for it. She was almost finished reading it and she really wanted to know how it ended.

  With a sigh, she headed back up the stairs and just as she was about to reach for the door, it opened, and she was face to face with Jeffrey and Hanna.

  Jeffrey smiled at her. “Hello Officer Vargas,” and then he shoved her backwards. “Goodbye Officer Vargas.”

  Vargas let out a surprised yelp, as her hands flailed about, looking for something to hold onto, but there was nothing there.

  She fell backwards down the concrete stairs, to bounce once off the metal railing, before hitting bottom with a sickening thud, to lay still, and bloody.

  When they reached her, Hanna took Vargas’s gun and handcuffs and placed the knife to her throat.

  “Should I?” she asked Jeffrey.

  He shrugged. “Why not?”

  As Hanna began to slice, the sound of a door opening came from three flights above. Hanna removed the knife and stood looking up. The sound of footsteps approached, grew louder, and then the sound of a second door opening and closing followed and they were alone again in the staircase.

  Jeffrey grabbed her by the arm. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  And even as their footfalls echoed on the stairs, Vargas’s eyes flickered open.

  ***

  Chief Dent was still angry. He had planned to be around when Vargas got off shift, but the damn FBI kept him in a meeting for so long that he figured he missed her by at least five minutes.

  He had hoped to “accidently” run into her when she came down to the parking garage, and afterwards, invite her out for coffee. And after that? Well, she did say that there were no lines he couldn’t cross.

  The chief got out of his car and smiled when he saw Vargas’s patrol car.

  Davis must be running late, something that was normally not tolerated, but at that moment, the chief could kiss Davis for his tardiness.

  He waved at the FBI agents in the lobby and headed for the elevators. The security office was just down the hall, and the chief could hear a phone ringing endlessly as he waited to go up.

  Why aren’t they answering it?

  Curiosity got the better of him and he walked over to the office and opened the door.

  “Oh God n
o,”

  Dent saw a security guard with his throat cut, and a puddle of blood beneath his chair. He looked at the bank of cameras and saw that the one aimed at Mitchell’s room revealed his door to be wide open, and it also displayed something else. On the left side of the screen were a pair of blue-clad legs, legs that laid motionless beside a streak of what looked like blood.

  “Traci?” Dent whispered, before rushing back out to the lobby to alert the FBI.

  As they waited for the elevator to arrive, Dent paced back and forth, but a moment later, he dashed to his left.

  “I’m taking the stairs!”

  He was running so hard when he reached the landing Vargas was on that he nearly tripped over her. She was conscious, but just barely, and was bleeding from cuts on her neck and left knee, and there was also a lump on the back of her head.

  Dent fell beside her and gathered her up in his arms.

  “Oh thank God you’re alive, thank God,”

  Vargas’s eyes slowly opened and she smiled at the chief.

  “It feels good in your arms, Jack.”

  “Traci? Traci, are you alright?”

  Vargas came out of the fog of her concussion as the memory of Jeffrey and Hanna returned to her. She stood up in a rush, but then fell back against the wall.

  “Mitchell’s escaped, and his wife is with him.”

  Above them, the stairwell door opened and one of the FBI men called down to him.

  “Mitchell’s gone, and Chief, I’m sorry, but he killed Officer Davis.”

  “He didn’t kill Davis, it was his wife; she came back for him.”

  “Dr. White,” Vargas said. “They’re going after Dr. White and her husband.”

  Dent took off down the stairs with Vargas following.

  “I’m going to Dr. White’s house.”

  The FBI man called after him.

  “Why, Chief? Mitchell is undoubtedly getting as far away from here as he possibly can.”

  “That’s what you said about his wife, remember?” The chief answered, as he and Vargas rushed down the stairs.

  ***

  Jessica grabbed her jacket and car keys, as she called out to her husband.

  “I’ll be right back; I’m just going out to the box to get the mail.”

  He came out of the office where he was working.

  “I’ll come along.”

  “Relax, I’m just going to the mailbox, and before you ask, yes, I have my gun with me.”

  He smiled. “I’ll miss you.”

  “When I get back you can show me how much.”

  “It’s a date,”

  He returned to the office as Jessica opened the door. The dog gazed up at her and whined, thinking that she was going away. She leaned over and petted him.

  “You wanna come with me? Come on.”

  The dog climbed inside the minivan and Jessica drove out to the edge of their driveway, as she was taking the mail from the box, a police car rounded the corner with its lights on, but the siren off. The driver got out, but the cars headlights made it difficult to see, however, as the figure grew closer, Jessica could make out the silhouette of a female.

  “Traci?”

  The car door flew open and Jessica found herself being dragged out of the car by her hair. Her fingers brushed her purse but she was unable to grab it and bring it along, it, and the gun inside it.

  As a hard kick landed into her stomach, she looked up and saw Hanna smiling down at her.

  The dog came swiftly out of the car while growling and headed for Hanna.

  BAM! BAM! BAM!

  The three shots reverberated along the seldom used road and were accompanied by the sound of the dog yelping in pain, as at least one of the bullets hit their mark and sent the dog running off into the woods.

  The shots had come from behind, and when Jessica turned her head, she saw Jeffrey smiling at her.

  “Hello Jessica, it’s so good to see you again.”

  ***

  He had been standing on the porch waiting for her to return, when he heard the three shots sound off in the distance.

  He ran along his driveway at a sprint, but skidded to a stop as he came across an abandoned police car. Their mail was scattered along the road, among drops of blood.

  A second police car rounded the curve at a high rate of speed and came to a hard stop beside him.

  Dent opened his door, stood, and spoke to him over the roof of the car.

  “Are you alright?”

  “My wife, someone’s taken my wife, was it Hanna Jones?”

  Dent nodded. “And Mitchell, she broke him out,”

  He opened the door and climbed in beside Vargas.

  “They couldn’t have gotten far, let’s go.”

  Dent got back in and drove.

  “This road connects with the highway,” Vargas said, “but all we can do is guess at which direction they took.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” he said, as he took his phone off his belt. The call went through and he heard a pleasant voice ask him a question.

  “Hello, this is Dawnstar, how may I help you?”

  “Yes, I need the location of my wife’s car.”

  ***

  Jeffrey grinned as he watched the lights of the police car speed by. They were parked in the driveway of a home with a For Sale sign and darkened windows.

  Jeffrey spoke to Hanna.

  “You’re certain it’s safe here?”

  “It’s safe; this is where I’ve been hiding the last few days.”

  As they talked, Jessica pushed in the cigarette lighter with her knee, while eyeing her purse, which Hanna had tossed into the back seat.

  As Hanna left the car to raise the garage door, Jeffrey ran a hand across Jessica’s breasts.

  “I can’t wait to get you where I want you, and excluding the part where I slice your throat open, you might even enjoy it. What is it you said to me once? That I was a very handsome man, did you mean that?”

  “I did, but that was before you became disfigured.”

  “Disfigured?”

  “Disfigured!” Jessica said, and pressed the tip of the hot lighter into Jeffrey’s left eye.

  His scream deafened her, as she opened the door and rolled out onto the ground. The window above her head shattered as Jeffrey fired a barrage of shots in her direction until his gun was empty. She rolled under the car as Hanna came running over, and while Hanna checked on Jeffrey, she crawled out from beneath to jump up and run into the woods behind the house.

  “Kill that bitch!” Jeffrey bellowed, as he writhed in agony from the pain of his wounded eye.

  Hanna obeyed, and ran after Jessica through the trees, with a loaded gun and a heart full of hate.

  ***

  They heard the shots as they neared the house and he scrambled out of the police car before it had even stopped. Vargas removed the shotgun and jumped out to follow the two men, but a bout of dizziness overtook her and she leaned against a tree and swayed.

  “Traci, are you alright?”

  She waved him forward.

  “I’m just dizzy from the fall. Go, Jack, go save Dr. White.”

  “Be careful.” Dent said, and continued towards the house.

  When he got there, he found the doctor's husband beating Jeffrey Mitchell relentlessly as he shouted at him.

  “Where’s my wife!”

  Another shot rang out from the woods, from the east, and Dent watched as the husband hit Mitchell in his already damaged face with a massive right that broke a tooth and rendered the bastard unconscious.

  A moment later, and they were running towards the sound of the shot as a woman’s voice cried out.

  “You can’t hide! I’ll kill you for what you did to Jeffrey.”

  They ran towards the voice, and each of them stumbled, as the darkness grew thicker under the trees, despite the beam from the chief’s flashlight.

  As they stood still to listen, a noise came from their left, and they turned to find Hann
a aiming her gun at the back of an unsuspecting Jessica, as the two women stood in a moonlit clearing about fifty yards away.

  As the chief raised his weapon and he opened his mouth to shout a warning, the dog attacked Hanna. The gun went off harmlessly a moment before she dropped it and the dog continued to bite.

  He ran over with the chief and Jessica flew into his arms.

  Hanna was screaming and thrashing about in panic, as the chief reached down and grabbed her gun.

  “Is that your dog, folks?”

  “He is now,” he answered, and Jessica smiled at him.

  He bent down and grabbed the dog by the back of its neck. “Heel!” The dog released Hanna and walked over to stand beside Jessica.

  As she petted him, she saw the wound.

  “He’s been shot in the hind leg, it’s just a graze, but it’s bleeding.”

  “How are you, Doctor?”

  “I’m fine, Chief. Did you get Jeffrey?”

  “He’s out cold thanks to your husband, and I take it that he has you to thank for the eye?”

  “You’re damn right he does,” Jessica said.

  They heard a noise and looked over to see Vargas heading their way.

  “Mitchell’s secure again, the Feds have him, and there’s an ambulance on the way.”

  The chief stared down at Hanna, as she moaned from her arm wound. The dog had done some damage and she was bleeding profusely.

  “Let’s hope the ambulance driver gets lost.”

  ***

  3:42 a.m.

  Despite the chaos of the previous night, not only did the Feds not delay their schedule, but instead moved it up by two hours and transferred Jeffrey away from the hospital and towards a federal prison, where he would be until his trail began.

  The only accommodation made was for the addition of a female agent for Hanna, who sat shackled beside Jeffrey in the back of a nondescript panel van.

  The female agent rode in the front of the van with its driver as they followed the lead car that contained two more agents.

  They were thirty miles from town, with the moon high and bright, when the two black pickup trucks appeared. The Feds were traveling in the middle lane and the trucks sped past them along either side, before slowing down and coming just shy of even with the lead car, to open fire.