Текст книги "Boston Blood"

Автор книги: Louis Samways

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Sixty Four

‘What the hell are you doing here Eddie? Haven’t you got a city to protect?’ Asks Frank, sparking up a cigarette as he pats Eddie down for a concealed weapon, Eddie shakes his head as he relaxes once Frank has stopped frisking. Both men look at each other intently before Frank flicks a cigarette at him. Frank extends his arm and lights it.

‘So are you going to answer me?’ Asks Frank who’s visibly growing more impatient, jittering his hands at his sides, ash sprinkling off his cigarette.

‘I am wondering the same thing Frank. What are you doing here all kitted up like you’re going to war or something’

‘That’s exactly where I’m going Eddie. I’m going to war with that son of a bitch. He killed all those innocent people and slaughtered Tasha like an animal. I liked her; she was the first person who gave me more than a stale look. The first person to ask how I was feeling and not mean “Are you up for the job”’

Eddie moves in closer, taking a seat on a lopsided crate next to Frank. Frank remains standing awkwardly as he beams his sight down to the visibly tired District Attorney Eddie Smith.

‘Look Frank, we need you back to headquarters…’

‘I know what you’re going to say, I’m not having none of it Eddie. Its bullshit, the whole thing is bullshit. You can’t just take me off a case and then expect me to run back into action blindly. First you guys ring me up yesterday, begging me to come back after I was sent home to “cool off”. I’m not playing these games any more. If you guys aren’t going to make a move on that ass hole Chase, then I will just have to see to his demise myself.’

‘We are going to make a move on him, that’s why we need you. Shaw has said that he wants you back in the field. He says he needs you to get the job done.’

Franks smiles at Eddie who is staring a hole into him, his cigarette is illuminating the surrounding warehouse clutter with a tint of fiery orange.

‘Bullshit! That guy is a complete moron. All he’s interested in is making my life hell. He has been nothing but condescending to me since this whole escapade has started.’

Frank goes silent as he clicks some thoughts around in his head.

‘I know why you’re asking me to come back. That dirt bag Connor is threatening to blow some hostages to high heaven, isn’t he?’

Eddie nods his head; taking one last drag on his cigarette he discards it. He stands up and squares off to Frank, looking at him as he cracks a stern shake of his head.

‘Look Frank, enough of this bullshit. You know you’re just swinging a game here. I know you like I know my right hand on a cold and lonely night. You’re going to play this game for as long as I’m willing, truth is I can’t be asked to go through these hoops of yours. If you’re going to come back then I suggest you hurry up and make up your damn mind.’

Frank smiles at Eddie, relieving some of the tension in the room.

‘Yeah you know me, Super Detective Frank McKenzie. “There for the public when I’m not high or contemplating blowing my own head off”’.

‘That’s pretty dark Frank, seeing how you’re an emotional wreck whose addicted to pain pills and horse tranquilisers, its better coming from you then me’.

‘Speaking off how well you know me, how did you know I’d be here?’

Eddie stops still and faces Frank with his hands out.

‘I had your shoes bugged.’ Says Eddie calmly

Frank laughs as he strips his weapon’s belt off and places it down on the ground. Both men walk out of the warehouse towards Eddies Mercedes. Frank gets in the passenger’s side.

Sixty Five

Crystal is sitting down at her seat that’s vibrating along to the friction of the trains every turn. Across the small cabin sits Jason who is dozing off. Next to him Jenifer is cuddled up, holding onto his arm tightly as the train moves violently along the tracks. Crystal’s thoughts have been drifting from Jason to Jenifer. She still feels bad about succumbing to Jason. Jenifer and her have not spoken for a good three hours and its grating on Crystal. She leans forward and shakes Jenifer awake. Jenifer’s eyes blink a few times as she blankly stares at Crystal wide eyed, finally she focuses and manages to frown at her while she lets go of Jason and moves in closer to Crystal who by now is a hairs length away from her face.

‘Look Jen we can’t be fighting for the whole trip.’ She whispers

‘Fighting? We haven’t even started Crystal, what you did was desperate and selfish. I wouldn’t ever do anything like that to you. You can’t surely think that I’m going to let this go, I like Jason and you go and blow him off in the toilets!’

‘What do you mean you wouldn’t do anything like that to me? What about Ryan at high school. Don’t you think I don’t know about you and him screwing in the school toilets? Why do you think I broke up with him?’

Jenifer’s face drops in shock of what she is hearing.

‘Two wrongs don’t make a right Crystal’

‘That’s what I’m trying to say here Jen. We need to just forget about this crap and move on. He’s just a boy and one that we just met at that. You’re not going to throw away years of friendship for an idiot like him. He played us both.’

Both girls look at Jason simultaneously. He is motionlessly slumped on the arm rest of his chair fast asleep. Both girls smile at each other.

‘You’re right hun’. Fuck him; we’ve had too many good times to spoil it over some hot piece of ass!’ Says Jenifer

Both girls giggle, their hands over their mouths to muffle the sound. They both look over at Jason who twitches restlessly but then remains still.

‘Let’s move to the front of the train, get away from him for the rest of the journey’ Suggests Crystal.

Jenifer nods in agreement as both girls grab their hand luggage from underneath their seats. Crystal opens the cabin door, cautiously stepping over Jason’s sprawled out legs. Jenifer follows, brushing her leg against his. Both girls make their way out of the cabin, the train jolts violently as they brace themselves against the door.

‘You two aren’t going anywhere’

Both girls turn around to see Jason holding a 9MM square in their direction. They both freeze in fear as Jason slowly gets up. Crystal looks at Jenifer and shakes her head in disapproval. Jenifer shrugs as she slowly braces herself. Another violent jolt by the train sends Crystal flying forward, landing on Jason. Jenifer takes the opportunity and bolts out of the cabin and flees up the narrowing hallway. Jason punches Crystal in the face knocking her unconscious as her head thumps on the support leg of the chair Jason was sitting on. He shoves her off him and gets up, pulling back the hammer on the gun as he exits the cabin. He sees Jenifer approach the trailer door to the economy seating, as she puts her hands on the door handle, he fires a shot. The bullet pierces clean through her shoulder, exiting her body and hitting the doors glass. Blood spatters up the door as she lands head first, her skull hitting the broken glass, penetrating the window, going straight through. Her hair is caught in the sharp glass surrounding her head; Jason reaches the door and pulls her out by her hair, freeing her from the glasses heavy grip, ripping her flesh off  her face and forehead. He throws her to the ground and takes aim over her. She lies on her back looking at him with pleading eyes, blood escaping into the ridges of her mouth and corners of her eyes. He fires another shot straight into her head, a dust ball of blood scatters around her head, imploding on the hard metal floor of the train. The shot rings loud invoking a chorus of screams on the other side of the bloodied door. He gets up and cocks the hammer once more, ejecting the spent shell to the floor, still smoking from the heat of the gun. He looks through the broken glass on the cabin door as he sees passengers escaping their seats and running up the aisle of the train. He opens the door, gripping the bloodied handle, his hand sliding off as he enters the fray of the economy class. He takes aim at two marshals who have their guns drawn and shoots both of them consecutively in the blink of an eye. Both officers go down fast. The shots get the attention of the passengers as they look on in horror, hiding and ducking out of sight behind their chairs. Jason takes a steady aim at them.

‘My name is Jason and I’ll be your entertainment for the evening’

Jason pulls out a small radio like device.

‘You see this? This is a triggering system. When I hit this red button, the train goes boom, any questions?’

The passengers are quiet; Jason grabs one of the nearby teenage boys. He forces him down on his knees, pushing his heavy boot into the back of his knees.

‘In case you doubt my seriousness I will demonstrate it right now’

Jason places the gun to the temple of the boy, who is squirming in fear. He pulls the trigger, the shot rings loud in the tin like cabin. A puff of red mist appears where the boy was kneeling; it clears to reveal him lying on his front, blood pouring out of his head.

‘That’s how serious I am. I don’t want any shit from anybody. There will be no second chances. The journey will continue as usual and you will arrive at your destination. Play your cards right and you will leave unharmed. Play them wrong, your head will spin on this trains decking, I shit you not. I hope we have an understanding people. All cell phones will be put in the receptacle bins near you. Make sure you remember where you put them so when we arrive you can retrieve them in an orderly fashion. Oh I almost forgot, if you have any complaints please send them to my suggestion box, it’s marked with the words CW at the back.’

Sixty Six

Eddie and Frank pull into the down town incident room’s car park. Eddie parks the car effortlessly as Frank stares at the car parks mortar wall. The head lights beam onto the cracks and sends a shiver down Franks back. Frank opens the stiff door to the car; he starches his legs out and shifts his body, gracefully getting out of the car. Eddie follows suit and both men make their way through the dark parking structure. They walk silently, both staring at the floor as their feet tap on the tarmac in unison. They walk up to the lift on the far side of the car park. Frank hits the button, sending the lift down. Eddie looks at Frank momentarily. Both men say nothing as the door clangs open and both walk in. The doors shut in front of them. Eddie looks at Frank once more.

‘What?’ Asks Frank

Eddie shakes his head

‘No, what are you looking at? You haven’t said anything to me since the warehouse.’ Asks Frank once more

‘Nothing Frank, let’s just say I’m pretty tired of all this bureaucratic bullshit that seems to be sweeping the offices.’

‘The FBI is taking over the case then?’

‘No, I’m seeing to it that they don’t get their dirty hands on this case. It has nothing to do with them. This isn’t pirate DVD’s or drug cartels. This is some guy in my city causing a fuss. I am going to use what the city has at its disposal. Not what Washington thinks I should be using. The FBI is only good for one thing, protecting the president!’

‘I think the secret service protects the President Sir.’ Says Frank

‘How many times have I got to tell you? You have known me long enough to call me by my name Frank, not to mention me and you are good friends, so cut the sir shit’

Frank smiles as Eddie’s composure is clearly broken. Eddie cracks his finger between his tie, loosening it as they reach the incident rooms first floor. The lift door clangs open once again as Frank and Eddie walk on through to the central hub. Just as they reach the bustling hub they are met by Chief Shaw.

‘Ah Frank how nice to see you’ Says Shaw

Frank shakes the Chiefs hand.

‘So where have you been McKenzie?’

‘Nowhere special Chief’

‘Is that so? I heard that you may have been engaging in some rather illegal activities down the industrial complex.’

Frank smiles at the Chief and turns his head slightly to catch a stern look from Eddie. The smile quickly disappears on Frank’s face.

‘You know how it is Chief, people talk’

‘That may be so, but they seem to be talking a lot about you.’

‘Look sir, by my understanding you wanted me to come back. You did fire me after all and what I do with my own personal time is my business, so if you want to give me a ribbing then I’d appreciate it if you hurried up because I have a case to crack.’

‘A case to crack, you have some cheek boy, you aren’t cracking shit around here. The only cracking you will be witnessing is me cracking the whip on your sorry ass.’

Frank leaps forward and grabs Shaw by the tie. He pulls hard on the it, forcing Shaw’s face down to a highly impactful thud on his desk. His nose explodes in a haze of blood as Shaw hits the ground holding his broken nose while staring up at Frank with a surprised look on his face.

‘Looks like cases aren’t the only thing I can crack around here’ says Frank

Sixty Seven

Jason stands at the front of the busted door overlooking the petrified passengers on the train. He is holding his AK47 much like a militia soldier would hold his on all those CNN specials on regimes in unfortunate countries. He paces the width of the train nonstop as he surveys the fear in the eyes of his hostages. He finally stops and points at a man kneeling on the ground with his hands on his head.

‘You, what’s your name?’ Says Jason manoeuvring his way closer to the kneeling man

The man looks up at Jason with a taught look of anxiety

‘Speak up’ Shouts Jason who is now pointing the foreboding AK47 at the man’s chest

‘My name’s Jason’ says the petrified man

Jason’s eyes lights up as he excitedly shakes the gun in an upwards direction signalling the man to his feet.

‘That’s quite a coincidence; my name is Jason as well’

The man looks on nervously at Jason, not shaking his line of sight off the weapon.

‘Would you say Jason is a common name?’ Asks Jason

‘Pretty common’ says the man

‘So you think I’m a common killer then?’

The man’s eyes tighten with fear as watches Jason’s eyes intrude his psyche.

‘No sir’

‘Did I tell you to speak Jason?’

‘No’ says the man

‘So not only do you think I’m a common killer but you also don’t respect me, the man with a gun.’

‘I did not say that’

‘It’s too late for apologies Jason, the damage is done. My feelings are already hurt.’

The man bows his head in fear

‘Look at me’ Shouts Jason while wheeling his AK47.

The man looks at Jason, tight eyed and reeling with sweat.

‘Theirs only room for one Jason on this trip to Boston’

Jason unloads a full clip into the man’s torso, the impact of the bullets contort his body in an unnatural fall to the ground. The man’s clothes are riddled with reddened holes, trickling out with blood. The barrel of Jason’s Ak47 is a blaze with smoke as it bellows out and hangs in the air. Jason smiles as he changes the clip. The heavy mag hits the floor with a frightening echo as the passengers on the train gasp in horror at the mangled body of the man on the floor. Jason looks up and smiles at his hostages.

‘I take it there aren’t any more Jason’s on this train?’

The crowd of passengers fall silent. Jason notices that some of the bullets have strayed and hit the cabin door of the driver. He walks over to the bullet ridden metal door and opens it. The trains’ driver is a mess with sweat and fear as he grips the controls of the train. He looks back at Jason who is grinning at him.

‘Everything okay here Mr Train driver?’ Asks Frank

The driver nods cautiously, visibly upset at the presence of Jason

‘Good, full steam ahead then. Make sure you slow down where I told you to. We are making a slight detour, but we will be back on course very shortly. Is that understood?’

Sixty Eight

Connor chase looks on as a member of his crew drags Adam McKenzie’s body off. Chase watches as blood smears on the hard flooring. He stares at the smudging on the floor, the blood caking the dented concrete, filling the minute holes with red specks. Connor stands up and walks over to the struggling guard who is visibly tiring at the sheer muscly bulk of Adam. He looks at the guard with a glint of sympathy while offering his hand out as a gesture of help.

‘He’s a big guy this one’ States Connor

The guard nods in agreement

‘They sure don’t build them like this much’ Says the guard.

Connor grabs Adam’s motionless legs as he hauls them up to his sides, narrowing his way through the darkened room with only the camera’s lights giving a slight hinge of light. He follows the guard’s lead.

‘Who do you think he is boss?’ Asks the guard

‘No one special I guess. Just some poor sap who was risking his life for a pay check.’

The guard grunts a short laugh, wheezing as he bares Adam’s weight.

‘A bit like us then.’

Connor stops dead as he lets Adam’s feet hit the floor.

‘What do you mean?’

The guard looks back nervously as he tries to collect himself

‘Well what we are doing could be considered dangerous’

Connor shakes his head

‘No, that’s not what you meant. Spit it out!’ Shouts Connor

‘Well don’t you think this is a lot of effort for some money?’

Connor slowly walks up to the jittery guard

‘What money?’ Asks Connor

The guard darts his head from left to right, trying to find the answers in his surroundings.

‘Look at me’ Shouts Connor while grabbing his jaw tightly.

‘I did not mean anything by it boss’ Says the guard

Connor lets go off the guard’s face, pushing him into the wall.

‘This isn’t about money son. This is about principle. When you lack that in life, the only thing you got left is your shadow. The shadow of a man with no principles is a man with no word. If he hasn’t got his word then he has no balls. If he has no balls then all he is a bitch. I don’t mean that in the sense that a woman is a bitch because women are much more than that. Women get labelled that too often. I’m talking about a bitch. A female dog, are you a female dog?’

The guard shakes his head cautiously.

‘Good because the only thing female dogs are good for is sniffing around’

The guard nods in agreement

‘Keep your nose out of my affairs. You’re here to do your job, not speculate on the finances. You do it correctly; you will get paid, out of my money, no one else’s. I am not here for a hand out, I’m here for change. Now drag that body down to the caller. We may be here for a while; I don’t want the place stinking up. Make sure you douse the body in petrol just like the rest. We’re having a cremation ceremony before we leave this shithole.’

Sixty Nine

He walks up the stairs holding a suitcase. The stairwell is well lit considering the geographical location he is in. he reads a plaque on the wall.

“Willard Intercontinental Washington Hotel Fire Exit”

He smiles as he manoeuvres up the last couple of steps, lugging the heavy yet important metal briefcase. He sighs in relief as he reaches that much fought for top floor. In no means is he an unfit man. It’s more of the fact that he is carrying such a heavy load. The lift was out of the question. He did not think that using it would help him in this matter. He thought about how he would have to use it coming down because time is of the essence. He stops pondering and walks a few steps towards the heavy fire exit door. It’s glistening in the artificial light that’s coming from the warm industrial light tubes on the walls, one every few feet. Unnecessarily illuminated for a staircase he thinks to himself. He is dressed in a business like suite. Not uncommon in such a distinguished building. He needs to look the part for what he is about to do. If he came in the building looking common then he would be considered the common enemy. In a sea of suits it would take them ages to find the person responsible. A guy casually dressed in such an establishment would be found in a matter of minutes.

He opens the big metal door. It forces its self-inwards. The strong winds brace against his suit. Ripples of cloth explode all over his body. The swift breeze makes its way up his sleeves and ankles. He walks through the door and onto the rooftop. He looks around and sees a view of Washington that surprises him. The picturesque skyline is surprisingly comforting to the man. He closes the door behind him and walks in a straight line, casually looking around at his surroundings. Metal grates and bellowing AC units occupy the roof along with the occasional antique styling to keep in tone with the building. He laughs to himself as he contemplates whether he is going to see a gargoyle. He finds the designated spot and crouches down to his knees. He fishes into his pockets and produces a small pair of binoculars. He scans the horizon in front of him. The Pennsylvania Avenue Street below him is littered with press. The police are cordoning off an allocated parking spot just in front of the hotel.

He leans against the ledge of the roof top. He looks down and sees the ground. It appears minute in the distance. He leans back in from the granite ledge and shimmy’s further away from it. He turns around still sitting on his rear; his actions seem rehearsed and covert. He flicks the code needed to unlock the briefcase. It hatches open as he looms over it. His face tingles with excitement as he unpacks the contents of the case onto the ground. He carefully places a black silk cloth on the ground. He unfolds it to reveal its true size. It stretches the ground in front of him. He reaches into the case again and pulls out a large metal piece. It’s shaped like a silencer. He starts pulling out bits of metal and wood. He clicks the pieces together in a timely fashion. The pieces quickly start to form the shape of a rifle. He attaches a barrel and then calmly screws on the suppressor. He fishes around the brief case once more and pulls out a soft silk pouch. He opens it and produces an 18 x Zoom scope. He attaches it to the now fully formed rifle. He places the constructed rifle on the black cloth laid out in front of him. He then pulls out his last piece of equipment. He stands up and walks over to the ledge. He takes another look through his binoculars. He then sits back down overlooking the edge of the roof. He unclips a tripod and fixes it to the ground. He shakes it to see if it’s sturdy. It is, he turns around and crawls towards the black cloth. He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a balaclava. He puts it on. He takes off his suit jacket and puts on an army shirt. He places the jacket on the silk cloth and picks up the heavy rifle. He slowly manoeuvres over to the tripod and clicks the rifle into place.

He kneels down on his front and lines the scope up. He looks through it and scans the ground below him. He marks a couple of people into his sights. He reaches into his trouser pocket and pulls out a PDA. He clicks the touch screen buttons and hits an application. The loading bar hits one hundred. He places the PDA down on the ground millimetres away from the rifle. He reaches into his pockets again and pulls out a small ear piece. He places it in his ear and clicks “SYNC” on the device. He breaths in deeply and takes aim once more. He scans the horizon and sees nothing. The earpiece clicks.

‘ETA on the President thirty minutes’