“Any word on Patterson?” I was hoping to get the question answered before the drugs kicked in. I was not good on narcotics. In the chaos of attempting to round up all the living, get medics to those that needed it, handcuff others, my spry eighty-something grandfather had slipped away. My brother had not and was now being held in a minimum-security facility while the Fortress was rebuilt. Someone had deemed him not dangerous enough to end up in Leavenworth. I thought that person was an idiot.
“Nope, but I’m sure he’s out there,” Xavier said. Patterson had been concerned about the possibility of an organized gang of serial killers. I had no doubt he was attempting to track them all down. Of course, their existence had now been confirmed; which was why we were living in a safe house with guards, sensors, and all sorts of fun stuff. Harry Burns was taking care of it. I had a feeling Daniels’ Security was too, since I was positive I had heard Sebastian’s voice yesterday. I was told it was the drugs, but I didn’t believe that for a second.
“I would like to spend some time lounging in the living room,” I told Xavier as he took off the first gauze dressing.
“After the drugs kick in,” Xavier nodded.
“Hey,” Caleb came into the room. “How’s she doing?”
“As good as can be expected. What’s up?” Xavier answered.
“We have a case, serial killer in San Francisco,” Caleb told him.
“I will get dressed as soon as he gets done,” I told him.
“No, you will not. You will be staying here,” Xavier told me. “You cannot go around chasing serial killers with seven bullet holes in your chest and abdomen, not to mention your foot still isn’t supposed to bear weight, and you have internal bruising.”
“Blah,” I stuck my tongue out at him.
“Gabriel insists one of us stay here and help her. Do you want to stay or do you want me to stay?” Caleb asked.
“I’ll stay,” Xavier answered.
“We’re leaving two others here to help, but they don’t have any medical training. On top of the guards outside,” Caleb added.
“Then we’ll be good.” Xavier smiled at me. “Now get out so I can finish this.”
“Everyone wants to say bye,” Caleb averted his eyes and looked at the ground. I wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or just seeing our words.
“Send them in,” I said. The Demerol was starting to take effect and the pain was sliding away. I adjusted my position and felt the pain race through me, despite the Demerol. I kept forgetting it hurt to move.
Fiona came in first. She gently hugged me. Everyone else did the same, as if I were dying or something. Even Malachi hugged me gingerly and didn’t attempt to cop a feel. I must have looked bad. As they filed out, two men and a woman walked into the room.
“Nadine,” I nodded to her.
“Aislinn, I heard it was bad,” she told me. “You need anything the guys can’t provide, just call on me.”
“Thanks,” I looked at Zeke Laroche and Anthony. Nadine and Zeke were good together. Anthony was a psychopath and I didn’t think any of them realized it. I had to admit, I liked the trio. Nadine drove me a little nuts from time to time, but everyone drove me nuts from time to time.
“You did me a solid, so I’m just returning it now.” Nadine cracked a smile. “Plus, I enjoy only having to deal with mobsters and other lowlifes. In the week since the FGN was hit, violent crime by serials has increased. Until we can get you back out there, I foresee bad things happening. Do you play cards?”
“She cheats at cards,” Xavier warned.
“It’s hard to cheat at Rummy,” Nadine said.
“She can do it,” Xavier smiled.
“I’ll take my chances, later, when you are feeling a little more human,” Nadine said. She tapped Zeke and Anthony. Zeke nodded and left the room, but Anthony stayed a moment.
“Need something?” I asked.
“Not really, I just want to give you a head’s up on something,” Anthony said. “I’ve seen that tattoo, about a decade ago, worn by an FBI agent that responded to the LA event. It wasn’t significant at the time, so I don’t have a name or any real information on him, but I thought you should know.”
“You were in LA?”
“A lot of us were,” Anthony answered. “Apex and I worked together setting up traps. You going after him?”
“No, he is a cop, or he was, and I think the world might be a little better with him in it,” I answered. “Gabriel and Malachi agree.”
“Like your grandfather?” Anthony asked.
“I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the Butcher being free again. Might be good, might not be.” I tried to shrug, but it hurt.
“If something happens that you need me to take a position for you, don’t hesitate to ask. Nadine’s right, we need the SCTU on the streets, not locked away in safe houses or in insecure housing.” Anthony left.
“If they disband the SCTU, I believe we could all have jobs with them,” Xavier said.
“Scary is it not?” I smiled at him. I waited a few moments before speaking again, letting Xavier get his doctoring done. “Speaking of scary, you do realize that Louisiana had two people with that tattoo, right?”
“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that too. It could have turned out to have a very different ending. Wilchek didn’t strike me as the serial killer type, but how many times have we heard that?”
“He only had four letters, definitely a narcissist though, narcissistic enough to kill. I cannot help but wonder how many of these we have seen and just did not know it.”
“I don’t know. I don’t normally notice tattoos. I might start.”
“I know I will,” I looked at Xavier. He looked tired and beaten down. Most of the SCTU did. I was not immune to seeing it on their faces and in their body language. When I found whoever was at the head of this thing, I was going to burn them at the stake. I could not wait for Christian Hunter to be processed and put into the new Fortress. My brother was plotting against him even as we spoke.
“His father had one,” Xavier said.
“Whose father?” I asked.
“Christian Hunter.”
“How did you…” I blinked at him, not finishing my question.
“You get this look on your face every time you think about him. It’s full of hate and rage. Things I have never seen on your face before. Disgust, irritation, and amusement have all happened while chasing serial killers, but this might be the first one you actually hate.”
“Pity Jeff Hunter is not still around. Any good news on his note?”
“No, the only thing legible is still his son’s name.” Xavier stood up. “They expect that repairs to the Fortress will take about a month. You might see what Patterson and Eric can get out of the few.”
“Only problem with that is Eric intends to kill them all.”
“If we were better cops, we would tell someone,” Xavier said.
“If?” I asked.
“Well, I’m not going to stop Eric. If he wants to take down a few killers inside the Fortress, who am I to stand in his way?” Xavier answered. “However, I’m not sure that’s the right decision as an agent of law enforcement.”
“I cannot decide if you want me to argue with you or give you permission to keep it quiet.”
“Neither. I was just stating that this specific nugget of information doesn’t need to go any further than you and I. Alex Zeitzev is going to investigate Wilchek. Caleb Green brought it up to her yesterday. She’s going to see if she can figure out who he killed and make sure he ends up inside the new prison.”
“Good,” I said trying to get more comfortable. “I cannot decide if we finished something or just started it.”
“I think we won this battle, but the war is still going on.”
“Not the answer I wanted.”
“I know,” Xavier left me to my own thoughts. He was right. I knew it. We all knew it. Burning him at the stake might be too easy. Maybe I would kill him by hand, very sl
owly. If I had learned anything in the previous months, it was that I was just as good at being a killer as any serial killer.
Hunter
The table was a big metal monstrosity. A D-ring ran through the top of it. The legs were bolted to the floor. The chair was set about a foot and a half away and was also bolted to the floor. Another D-ring was attached to the concrete via a metal plate. The walls were whitewashed cinder blocks. The renovations to the Fortress were complete, but it hadn’t improved the place. If anything, it was even more depressing now than it had been four weeks ago when it had come under siege from the inside out.
My foot was still in a cast and I was supposed to be using crutches. Instead, I had opted to use a cane. I was not sure how I would fare inside the Fortress on crutches. Someone had been nice enough to dig up Patterson’s cane and give it to me. This was a fair trade since my baton had gone missing within the melancholy walls of this unholy building.
The concrete and cinder block prison had seen the blood of over three hundred people murdered within the walls. Some of the murders had been at my own hands, but not as many as could have been. Fiona had been there to censor my bloodlust and it had worked to some degree. The majority of the dead were serial killers, including all three of those brandishing the cigar-smoking skull. I didn’t believe that was a coincidence, which was why I was here today.
“You have ten minutes, Cain,” Dominic Lazar told me as he led a shackled prisoner into the room. He took great care hooking him into the D-rings in the floor and the table. I almost felt sorry for him…Dominic, not the prisoner.
“Thanks,” I told Dominic. “I will not need long.”
“I’ll be right outside.” Dominic stood up, tugged on the shackles one last time and left the room.
“What do you want?” Christian Hunter glared at me.
“Not much really, you being dead is a pretty good place to start though, which is something I have been thinking about a lot in the last four weeks. I have not had much else to do as a matter of fact. Originally, Patterson and Eric were going to do it and I was just going to let them, but the more I thought about it, the more unsatisfying that solution became. See, they want you dead because they do not like cop killers. I want you dead because I do not like you and you gave me the excuse. Helping to orchestrate this disaster and then refusing to talk makes you unnecessary. However, I cannot just execute you. I do try not to be a serial killer. So, I’m offering you a choice. You can start cooperating or I will kill you.” I pulled a very small vial out of my cast and set it on the table. The liquid inside was clear.
“Fuck you, you self-righteous cunt.”
“That was sort of the reaction I was expecting.” I looked at the vial. “I have been told you are a very smart man, IQ in the top ten percentile of the population. Mine is lower than yours, but I have some things I want answers to and if I cannot get them from you voluntarily, I will use other means.”
“You can’t do shit to me. I’m chained up, so it would be murder.”
“Those were not the words of a smart man. You think you are chained up. I have been in this room for almost twenty minutes while they prepped you to come see me. During which time, I messed with all the bolts. It will look like a flaw when they were put in.”
“But that means I have to do something to break them and I won’t.” Christian stared at me with cold green eyes. They didn’t have the brilliance or life that Malachi’s had.
“Wrong again,” I met his gaze and held it for several seconds. “For a brilliant psychopath, you seem fairly ignorant to how the world works. For people like us, life is one giant chess game. If you do not think ahead, you have already lost. You failed to think ahead, therefore, you have already lost.” I picked up the small glass vial and untwisted the cap. “For instance, you never asked what was in this and you should have. I need a reason for you to go into a rage. Do you have any idea what PCP does to the psychopathic mind? I have seen people with ASPD use it, but never borderline personality disorder, so it should be interesting.” Christian Hunter searched my face, wondering if I would really dose him with PCP.
I wouldn’t. Even I wasn’t that insane, truth was, the vial contained water. I’d emptied most of the hydrochloric acid out onto the D-ring bolts and replaced it with water from the bottle they had given me upon arrival. A psychopath on PCP made the Hulk look like a wuss. Patterson’s cane was formidable, but it wasn’t a replacement for a gun in that situation. On the flip side, the amount of water contained in the vial wasn’t enough to dilute what had been left of the acid and it would come in handy in a pinch. Hydrochloric acid was every bit as dangerous as a gun in the right circumstances. I had even considered starting to carry around vials of acid, just as vampire hunters carried holy water, in case of emergencies.
“One day, Cain, you’ll end up in here where you belong.” He jerked and the bolts holding his wrist shackles came loose from the table. I watched from my position across the table, the vial still in my hand. His antics were large, but mostly for show.
“It is unlikely,” I told him. “So, death now or do you live to see another day?”
He looked at me, suddenly realizing my words. He had broken free of the table. I had plotted against him and won. He slipped back into his chair, the bluster gone.
“If I talk, I meet a tragic end,” he spat at me.
“And if you do not, I kill you. Such a hard decision. Let me assure you, if I do it, it is going to be slow and painful,” I told him.
“Nothing you can do to me is worse than what they can do to me.”
“They? Now, that is interesting. We already know there is some kind of network. Fiona is working on cracking your computer and things. I admit, it has been slow, but she is making progress. You tell me exactly what you know and I will have Eric and Patterson protect you,” I told him.
“No way,” Hunter said.
“Fine,” I stood up and put the vial back in my boot.
“I thought you were going to kill me?” Hunter sneered.
“I already have. You just don’t know it yet.” I pushed the vial back into my cast and pulled a second one out. This one had a small mound of powder in it. I poured it into the mostly full bottle of water I still had. It didn’t seem like it did much. There was no fizzing, no hissing, and no crackling. Nothing changed color, and it didn’t put off a smell, but the powder disappeared.
“I’m not drinking that,” Hunter said.
“I do not expect you to,” I told him. I slung the bottle, dousing him with water. “At first, you will feel fine, and then it is going to get warm. You might break out in hives, or you might not. Then it will become hard to breathe, and your chest is going to feel tight. You might start to panic at that point, but it will not do any good, because I’m just going to sit here and wait for as long as possible before calling Lazar in. Hope your peanut allergy is not mild or we could be here for a long time.”
“Peanuts?” Hunter began wiping at the water. His face turned red. I smiled at him. Hyperventilation set in and he began to try to scream between gasps. Lazar rushed into the room.
“What did you do?” Lazar asked me.
“He broke free of table restraints, so I threw water on him, after I put something in the water,” I admitted.
“Jesus Christ,” Lazar grabbed his walkie-talkie.
“Do not worry, no one has ever died of a suggestion.” I stood up. “I told him it was crushed up peanuts. In reality, it was just ground white pepper. He felt like he was having an allergic reaction because I told him he was, plus the pepper irritates the skin.”
“You psychotic bitch!” Hunter lunged across the table at me, pulling his shackles free of the restraints in the floor. I reacted on instinct, hitting him with the cane, hard across his back. He stopped fighting. His words lost in shouts and yelps.
“You have been very uncooperative today, Hunter.” I walked towards the door. “I hope you understand the position you are really in. They executed your father
and the two other men that wore that tattoo when they took the Fortress. I imagine a similar fate is awaiting you, unless someone else gets to you first.”
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Fortified Dreams Page 25