“Thank God,” I sighed. “I have to go deal with the Fortress.”
“We’ve been ordered to stand down while a tactical unit is sent to the Fortress,” Gabriel reminded me. “Should we all be in the room while the doctor discusses Nyleena’s female parts?”
“Gabriel, you’ve been married, so surely you know what a clitoris is,” my mother scolded him. “Nyleena needs her family and that includes you, Malachi, Xavier, Caleb, Elle, Cassie, Gavin, Fiona, and…” she stopped herself from saying Lucas’s name.
“If Apex had not killed him, I would have enjoyed torturing him. I hope he made it hurt.” I thought for a moment. “I hope he made it hurt a lot.”
“We are going to move you guys to a private room,” a nurse came up to us and said. I looked around. There were other patients and people sitting in the waiting room, staring at us.
“We need to discuss Apex,” Gabriel sort of whispered.
“He’s a contract killer. What’s there to discuss?” My mother snipped at him. Gabriel sighed.
“We’re moving you now.” The nurse grabbed my arm. I jerked away from her. It was pure reaction. My gun was drawn without realizing it. The nurse froze. The doctor did as well.
“Sorry, it has been a very long day.” I holstered my gun. We all followed her to another room. They drew the curtains down over the windows on the doors. It was a grieving room.
“You left a suspect in the custody of a contract killer and not just any contract killer, but Apex!” Gabriel shouted as soon as we were all alone.
“Well, it was either let him kill him or I was going to do it. Apex seemed like the lesser of the two evils,” I told my supervisor in a calm tone.
“If anyone finds out about this…” Gabriel ran his hands down his face.
“No one is going to find out about it,” my mother said.
“You seem very sure of that,” Green said.
“You guys really don’t know?” My mother looked at them, her eyes wide, and her mouth slightly ajar.
“Know what?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at her.
“Apex is a cop. He’s been undercover so long that I don’t think many people know he’s a cop.”
“Mother, do you know who Apex is?” I asked her.
“Yes and no. I met him once with your father. I don’t know his real name, because he was undercover then too. It’s why your father had those fancy bullets. Apex gave them to him.”
“I think you need to explain,” I said to her.
“It’s an odd situation,” my mother said. “Apex the cop is technically dead. Lots of cops watched him die. He then went into business as a contract killer, feeding information to certain contacts. Your father was one of them. From what I understand, he does kill people for money, but part of the reason he is selective is because he’s still a cop to some degree. Unfortunately, the last twenty years have not been good to him and I think most of his contacts have died. He might be reaching out to establish new connections. He also doesn’t keep much of the money. He donates it all to first responder charities, keeping just enough to live on. It’s a, what do they call it, a black op kind of thing. It’s why the SCTU and VCU are never assigned to hunt him down. No one really wants Apex to be found or arrested.”
“I’m going to ask a very important question and I want a very honest answer. I’m incapable of anger at the moment, so I will not react to your answer. Is he somehow related to us?” I looked at my mother.
“No,” she shook her head. “However, he has ties to you, Lucas, Malachi, Gabriel, Caleb, and Xavier.”
“It was Lucas’s father that thought up the VCU,” Xavier told me, but I had learned that about an hour ago from Apex, so I wasn’t shocked.
“Yes,” my mother agreed.
“Oh, my fucking gracious, Mom, how deep into this shit are you?”
“You know Lucas’s father worked your kidnapping, right?” She asked me.
“Yes.”
“Well, we remained in contact with him until the end of his life. We met Xavier’s parents through Lucas’s father. The world was falling apart all around us and we had to do something about it.”
“You are a librarian!” I shouted at her. “Not a spy!”
“Of course, I wasn’t a spy,” she answered. “I’m a librarian because I’m a researcher and secret keeper. The SCTU and VCU wouldn’t be working today if it weren’t for men like your father and those around him who were willing to go the extra distance and prove it was needed.”
“Next you are going to tell me you work for the DOJ,” I sighed.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m over sixty years old. I retired from there when you were in college.”
“Is my entire life a lie?” I asked her.
“No, your father and I love you very much, and that’s why we agreed to do this stuff. We were making a better future for you all. It turned out that you all had unique skills that made you perfect for these jobs and now, here you are an accomplished woman whom we couldn’t be prouder of.” She beamed at me.
“You used present tense when talking about dad. Is he alive?” I looked at her.
“Only in our hearts.” She looked at me for a second. “We tried to keep you from this life and it still found you. I couldn’t do anything about that, but it suits you. It suits all of you. That’s why we can discuss Nyleena’s clitoris.”
“Oma, stop saying clitoris,” Elle said.
“Are you a spy?” I asked my sister-in-law.
“No, but my father worked for the CIA. I was just supposed to keep tabs on Eric. I didn’t think I would fall in love with him, or have two beautiful children with him. I was working as a private detective at the time.”
“Did you know about any of this?” I asked her.
“Yes and no. I knew more than you did, but that was because I was marrying into the family. Your mother and father wanted me to be prepared for it. At the time, we were still trying to save you from becoming a serial killer. I knew nothing about Apex until just now.”
“And when I did not turn out to be a serial killer?”
“We popped a bottle of champagne and celebrated,” my mother answered.
I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. My life had always been complicated. I didn’t realize my family was the biggest contributor to that complication.
“Okay, so Apex is trying to reestablish ties to the law enforcement community and he’s chosen Aislinn at the moment.” Malachi stood up. He’d been oddly quiet. “We can use that to our advantage, because no one outside this room knows that Apex is some sort of precursor black op to the SCTU.”
“The best contract killer in the US and possibly the world is really a cop.” Gabriel sighed. We all seemed to be doing a lot of that.
“I thought they would have told you that by now.” My mother shrugged. “There has been a complete breakdown in communication in recent years. There’s probably only a handful of people that know Apex’s real mission, more now that I have spilled the beans.”
“Is there anything else we should know?” Xavier asked.
“I don’t know,” my mother shrugged. “That’s the problem with being the secret keeper. You never know what’s important and what isn’t. Apex and several others believed a cop organized the LA killings.”
“Apex told me that,” I informed her. “He thinks the same cop is organizing whatever is going on here.”
“You know what surprises me the most,” my mother said.
“No,” I was fearful of her answer.
“That all of you, knowing that Nyleena is okay, are still here. I know you got orders to avoid the Fortress, but I figured you’d be camped outside the gates, just in case.”
“I know,” Gabriel grumbled. “However, I was told we would be shot if we went near the place.”
“Me too,” Malachi said.
“That’s truly bizarre. You guys caught the majority of the killers in that place, so it seems strange that they don’t want you there as b
ackup.”
“Are you hinting at something?” I asked my mother.
“Yes.” She looked at Malachi. “When was the last time you followed an order that you thought was stupid?”
“I get your point, but I actually do not enjoy being shot.” Malachi slumped into his chair. His legs looked impressively long.
“Mom is right,” I said and then took a deep breath. “What do they not want us to know?”
“Maybe they are worried about the press.” Gabriel gave me a pointed look.
“She deserved it and I was defending myself,” I protested.
“Shit,” Gabriel looked at Malachi. Malachi pushed himself out of the chair.
“I’ll let you know if something changes with Nyleena’s clitoris!” My mom yelled as we left the private room. People stared at us. We all looked like hell. We were dirty, bloody, and probably reeked. I had stopped being able to smell myself hours ago.
“Sadly, that is not the strangest thing she has ever yelled at me,” I told them as we walked out of the hospital.
Six
The Fortress looked like a futuristic space station made out of concrete. In the last year, it had been remodeled significantly. Only the front entrance looked the same, from there, everything had changed, the remodeling had been swift and efficient. It had a central hub with spokes coming out of it that connected to an exterior circle. Where these spokes connected to the exterior circle was a large bulging semicircle that looked like a tower.
The exterior circle and towers were six stories high. The central hub was twelve, ensuring that it towered over the rest of the building.
It sat in the middle of a giant, barren field. Behind it was a large cliff with a sheer face.
The exterior had a tall fence with razor wire on top. The fence was actually two fences with approximately twenty feet between them. Outside these fences, there were guard towers that were nine stories tall. Inside the guard tower, were gun turrets as well as men with sniper rifles. My Marshal training had included studying the blueprints and security measures of the Fortress.
The hub contained the cafeteria, laundry area, library, offices, locker rooms, interview rooms, and visitor’s area. The towers contained a common area for each cellblock as well as a guard station where weapons were stored and everything could be monitored. The space between the spokes and circle were garden-like areas where nothing grew, but where prisoners could go outside during designated recreation time.
Access to the Fortress started with driving on a badly kept asphalt road, which was lined with trees and giant signs warning you that you were getting close to a super max federal prison. Where the trees suddenly stopped, the road became concrete. The ground was barren of grass, and the Fortress loomed in the distance. The road came to a dead-end at the gates of the Fortress.
This road was packed with vehicles. There were more than a hundred people standing around watching. We were among the lookie-loos. However, we stood closer to the gates than most.
The tactical assault team had entered sixty-seven minutes earlier. No one had heard from them for sixty-six minutes. We were waiting for someone to make a decision regarding backup, namely us, entering the prison.
The super max Fortress was not full. It wasn’t even a quarter full. It still housed around five hundred serial killers and mass murderers. Over three hundred of them had been put there by either the VCU or the SCTU. It seemed like we were the ones uniquely qualified to provide assistance to those on the inside, if they were still alive.
However, from where we stood, we could hear nothing. This lack of any noise meant that there were no guns being fired. There were no screams. There were no shouts. There was just nothing. The Fortress was strong and the concrete provided some barrier to sound, but it wasn’t soundproof. We should have been hearing something.
Twelve Marshals suddenly joined us near the fence. Demetrius Lazar was among them. They looked at us. We looked at them. We waited some more. Somewhere, there was a bureaucrat pissing us off, because while he sat in his office with his thumb up his ass, trying to figure out how to regain control of the Fortress, we were standing outside, wondering about our fellow US Marshals trapped within the walls.
The only thing they had going for them was that the inmates had either not gotten their hands on the weapon caches or they had killed them all very quickly. This last seemed unlikely, considering the type of prisoners. They were killers, not situational killers, but monsters that killed for sport, at least most of them. I remembered what Lazar said about Eric. Until today, I wouldn’t have thought my brother a badass. Our grandfather, yes, because even in his seventies, the man was terrifying, but my brother, not so much. Knowing that he could and would kill with his bare hands gave me some peace of mind. Chances were good that he and Patterson were still alive.
I didn’t know why it seemed vitally important that Patterson was still alive. It probably had something to do with keeping the Marshals alive. Patterson was not a cop killer. He didn’t agree with killing cops unless they gave him a good reason. In that way, he and Eric were very much alike.
Gabriel’s phone rang. He listened intently for several minutes, never identifying himself.
“That’s ridiculous, sir,” he said, with the last as if it were bitter fruit. “If anyone should go in, it should be a joint effort between the VCU, SCTU, and any volunteer Marshals. Sending in the FBI is just handing the inmates more prisoners. They do not deal with these inmates like we do, sir.” He became quiet again. After a few more minutes, the call ended, without another word from Gabriel. “Fucking moron,” Gabriel muttered after a moment. “The powers that be have decided a ten man FBI tactical unit can take back the prison. We are all still supposed to stand down.” He punctuated his sentence by throwing his phone. It slammed against the concrete, flinging up the broken pieces.
“That is the second phone in five months,” I told him. I gazed around at the people nearest the fence. We had twelve non-SCTU Marshals, two VCU members, and five SCTU hunters. If we could add our numbers to the FBI tactical team, we stood a much better chance.
“Malachi, do you not know someone in charge? Call them, and have us join the tactical team,” I ordered him.
“The FBI tactical team will not allow us to join them,” Malachi sneered.
“Great, it’s likely that our serial killers just got ten more hostages.” Fiona looked gloomy. “So, they are going to send us in to save asses, but not until they are completely positive that the killers have plenty of hostages to use against us.”
“Pretty much.” Malachi turned. We all did. The rumble of a large vehicle was unmistakable, even with the chatter going on around us. The vibrations could be felt in the ground. “I’m going to ask a very important question before these guys go in. How are they subduing tactical teams? And why do we think we would fare any better?”
We all stood there for several moments, feeling the quaking beneath our feet. If we came up with an answer, we might be able to end the siege. At least the FBI’s tactical team might be able to do it.
“The cafeteria is capable of being locked down. I’d say they are holding all the rebels and officials inside of that area,” Gabriel said. “Best point of attack is to lure them into one of the corridors. They would feel safe walking past the killers they think are still locked in cells. Get them in, open the doors, and let the killers pounce.”
“But the killers theoretically don’t have weapons and the tactical units do,” Fiona said.
“What are the chances of a tactical team shooting each other?” I asked her.
“Slim to none,” Xavier answered.
“What are the chances of me shooting one of you if need be?” I asked.
“High,” Gabriel answered.
“Exactly, the only one completely off limits would be Xavier. His ass gets to stand out here and be our communications liaison,” I told them.
“How many officers do they need to take hostage to subdue the others?” Malachi aske
d.
“Not many,” Gabriel said.
“Maybe three,” Xavier answered. “Three guys would give them the upper hand, and I disagree about them theoretically not having weapons. I think they have plenty, but they are waiting for something before the bloodshed really starts.”
“I agree, they would take them from the guards and tactical units,” I said. Something nagged at me. “Also, they have some loose cannons in there. So, are they killing those killers to make this work?”
“Like Eric?” Malachi asked.
“No, they need Eric. They might not need Patterson, but killing him would not do them any good, because it would piss off Eric. I’m talking about some of the serial killers that are serving time in the psych ward because deranged does not even begin to cover it,” I said.
“You’d keep them locked up,” Caleb suggested. “If I’m a serial killer and I know that I’ve got someone like Jacob Nicholson or Mark Cramble, I don’t let them out.”
Jacob Nicholson really liked to kill, even by the standards of a serial killer. He’d torn through a small Midwestern town in two days, killing almost everyone over the age of fifteen. He left pregnant women and children alive, locking them up in a basement. When they were found a few days later, Nicholson was gone, and the prisoners were in dire straits. Mark Cramble took commands from angels and liked to let his victims bleed out for their sinful ways. He considered serial killers as the scum of the earth. He’d killed more than a few before being moved to a special psych unit. Cramble spoke aloud to no one and generally freaked people out with his ramblings. Both men were over seven feet tall, built like bulls, and impossible to subdue without serious tranquilizers. There were psychopaths and then there were guys like Nicholson and Cramble. Total, the Fortress held about fifteen such monsters.
“Any of them sane enough to be reasoned with?” Christian Hunter spoke for the first time.
“Not in the least,” I answered. “My thoughts on the matter is that we go in, let ourselves get taken hostage, get put in the secure facility where they are holding everyone, and find a way to release the beasts. Let them do most of the heavy lifting. There are not a lot of places these guys cannot get, so it would be interesting, but once in the secure location, we would have numbers as well as psychopathic brains on our side. So, those guys would not come in there. They would get torn to bits. Of course, they might take a few people down with them, but they would go down.”
Fortified Dreams Page 5