Текст книги "Boston Blood"

Автор книги: Louis Samways

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Thirty Two

‘So you’re here to see who again?’ The guard asks patiently while scanning the photo id badge.

Frank ruffles his hand through his hair not so patiently.

‘I’m here to see Jacob Reach.’

The guard smiles while handing back the photo ID to Frank McKenzie.

‘Well that might be a problem Mr McKenzie. Not everyone gets a visit with the defence minister just like that. I’m going to have to run your name through the system and get some clearance on the situation.’

Frank shakes his head in frustration as the guard reaches down to his radio and moves it closer to his mouth. Frank’s hands are clenched in anger as he stands outside the government building in broad daylight, feeling exposed and in danger. Before Frank can react, he is snapped out of his daze at the voice of Jacob Reach approaching him and the guard.

‘Hey harry, don’t worry about him, I have Frank here pencilled in for a visit.’ Jacob says just before reaching the two men. The guard nods in understanding and puts his radio back in its holster. Jacob walks closer to the guard and says something into his ear.

‘Understood sir’ the guard responds quietly.

The uneasy feeling the Frank had minutes before Jacob showed up had come back with a vengeance. Frank did not like whispering, nor did he like it when it was about him. Before Frank could say anything, the big security gates to the building opened up and Frank got back into his car. Jacob walked over to the passenger side of the car and tried opening the door. Frank sat in his seat contemplating whether it was a good idea coming to meet Jacob; he unlocked the door for Jacob and waited till he sat down; then they drove off into the government building in silence

Thirty Three

Crystal sat there in the train for what felt like years, but in reality was no more than four hours. She began to bite her nails again, biting the ridges right down to the skin. She was on edge and any one could see that. Facing opposite Crystal was her friend Jenifer, who now was fast asleep, resting her head against the trains vibrating window, ever so often looking uncomfortable as the train swerved side to side on the tracks.

Next to Jenifer was Jason. He wasn’t fast asleep, nor was he facing the window. Jason had been staring at Crystal ever since Jenifer went to sleep. Crystal’s nail biting had become even more corrosive as her mouth dissolved the remaining sheen of her once immaculate manicure. Jason remained seated, staring a hole in to her that only evil could fill. She wanted to say something, tell him where to stick it, to stop looking at her but she couldn’t.

She wondered why a person of her age was feeling sentiments of disapproval regarding the promiscuous relationship that her friend Jenifer and their new found friend Jason were having. She understood the reasons behind it, after all Jason was a good looking man, a man with more than charm and looks. A man that oozed everything that Hollywood and pop culture had taught her was acceptable when growing up.  She thought that maybe she was jealous of Jenifer’s new found Romeo.

She lets out a giggle, unintentionally.

Jason smiled at her and leant forward as if to talk to her in a more private manner. He smiled once more.

‘What’s so funny Crystal?’ He asks his tone remaining indifferent.

Crystal shakes her head.

‘Nothing, why would there be anything funny?’

‘Well call me old fashioned but the last time I checked when someone lets out a giggle, there is usually something funny behind that reaction. Don’t hold me to that though, its pure conspiracy!’

She lets out a smile, a curved one at that.

‘Oh she does have a smile then! I was wondering when I was going to see that gorgeous smile again!’ Jason says, while leaning in further.

Crystal feels more at ease with him even if still a little uncomfortable.

‘Look Jason. I think me and you have gotten off to a bad start. I’m not always like this.’ She says while her brown hair bounces within timing to the train’s turns.

‘Like what? You have been nothing but nice to me’ Jason’s southern accent makes it presence felt again. Soothing, calm.

Crystal blushes and flicks her bouncing hair away from her eyes, revealing her beauty as well as her remorse. Jason reaches out to her and lays his hand on top of hers. Comforting, calculated.

‘Look Crystal, I don’t have any gripes with someone looking out for their friend. It’s natural and downright normal. I would be cautious as well if I was a beautiful girl traveling an express train with her equally beautiful friend. You can’t be too careful these days, as you said; there are a lot of creeps around. I can assure you I’m not one of them.’

She nods in agreement, her hands sweaty underneath his, not from heat but from nerves. The kind of nerves that find their way when you feel uncomfortable, not because you’re scared but because you know it feels right, but it’s so wrong.

‘I understand Jason. But I don’t know if you understand what I’m saying here. It’s not that I think you’re a creep, it’s just that maybe you have chosen the wrong girl’

‘Is that so?’ Jason says, now leaning in close enough to smell her perfume. Close enough to seal the deal.

 

Thirty Four

‘Still no news sir, we have an APB out on Frank but Boston PD can’t seem to put a radar on this guy’s ass. He is literally off the map. Not even a blip sir!’ The officer says, standing up straighter then most men stand, the reason being that this lowly ranked officer has been giving the opportunity to address the progress on the case to the DA. My lucky break he thinks

Eddie Smith sits in his chair contemplating whether to drink another glass. He stares deeper into his whisky bottle that’s propped up on his desk, wondering whether there is any gold at the bottom of this rainbow, or more to his circumstances, whether there is any hope at the bottom of the bottle.

‘Sir, what do you suggest we do?’ The officer’s voice penetrates Eddie’s thoughts. He finally levels his eyes up to the officer standing in his office and gives him a smile.

‘Well Officer….’ Eddie waits for the officer to state his name

‘Mullins sir, Officer Mullins’ states the officer.

‘Well officer Mullins, I suggest you keep on looking for this son of a bitch! What do you want me to do, go out there in a squad car with you and reel him in?’

‘No sir I…’

‘Don’t kid. I’m the District Attorney for Boston Massachusetts, My job is to insure the prosecution of criminals and clean these streets, ridding me of them all. You think I have the time to just dedicate my resources to one AWOL detective?’

‘No sir I don’t’

‘Well even though I can’t put all my officers into the fray, I have you! Seeing that you are so gung-ho then I’m tasking you with a special little mission’

Officer Mullins swallows hard, avoiding eye contact with the DA

‘Do you hear me?’ Asks Eddie

‘Yes sir, I here you.’

‘Aren’t you going to ask me what special assignment I have planned for you?’

There is a silence in the room that lasts only a few seconds

‘What’s my assignment sir?’

‘DO YOUR FUCKING JOB! IS THAT CLEAR OFFICER MULLINS?’ Shouts the DA.

‘Yes Sir!’ Mullins says, trying to compose himself.

‘Now get out there and search harder. Use the whole goddam Boston PD Reserves if you have to. I want Frank McKenzie In custody as soon as possible. Is that clear?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Good now get going’

Officer Mullins leaves the room, hat in hand, and pride non-existent. He closes the door behind him leaving the DA sitting at his desk in silence, Eddie breaths in deeply, trying to gain control over the situation.  He reaches into his coat jacket and pulls out a pack of twenty Lucky Strikes, brand new down to the film. He unwraps the protective packaging and rips open the top half of the cigarette packet, grabbing one cigarette and quickly lighting it up.

He blows smoke rings until the cigarette burns down to the filter. He flicks the butt into the bin, and grabs his whisky bottle. Pouring himself another drink he sighs and looks into the full glass of brown liquor.

‘End of the rainbow here I come’ He mutters to himself as he raises his glass to his mouth and takes a sip.

Thirty Five

‘Were going live in two minutes Chase’ says the bulky technician. Connor nods.

Connor Chase is sitting down on a crate, using it as a makeshift seat, staring hard into the camera lens. His reflection is distorted, bent, through the shiny surface of the 30 x zoom 28 megapixel camera. The camera is resting on a tripod; the feet are muddy due to the condition of the floor.

‘Not an ideal studio ay boys’ Connor laughs

The group of guards and technicians surrounding him don’t respond.

Connor surveys the surrounding area of the DIY studio they have put together in the offices of the M.I.T Building. The place is a mess with loose wiring and clutter. Debris from the trashing of the computers that once occupied that area are still strewn all over the place. The blood from the execution style killing of Tasha has stained the floor, meshing in with the dirt and plastic trimmings. Chase turns around to see the white sheet cover used as a background covered in blood.

‘I thought I told you guys to clean this place up. It looks like a slaughter house!’

One of the guards laughs. Connor gets up and walks over to the hired hand.

‘Is there something funny here that I’m missing?’

The guard shakes his head.

‘I could have sworn that I heard you laughing at my slaughter house remark’

‘No sir’ the man replies.

Connor grins.

‘Oh so your calling me a liar then?’

The guard emphatically shakes his head

‘No sir of course not’

‘Of course not’ says Connor in a calm manner.

Chase quickly grabs his gun from his holster and raises it forward. Before the barrel hits the direction of the burley guard, he shoots. The bullet hits the man in the chest; blood trickles out of the man’s mouth, while he falls to the ground, the sound finally catches up, and blasts the area with a deafening ringing sound.

‘Of course not’ He repeats as he holsters his weapon once more.

Chase turns around to witness his employees all staring at him, grim faced at the situation.

‘I don’t have time for people who question my actions, nor do I have time for people who force me into questionable actions. This here gentleman is an operation, and operations need leaders. If you feel that any of those leader type qualities are lacking in me then feel free to walk out. I have my reasons for being here and so do you. Your reasons may not match mine but I shit you not, mine are the only ones that matter! So when I tell you to do something, do it. I don’t want people watching these proceeding thinking that I’m some sort of maniac hell bent on killing people. That’s the wrong sort of message I’m trying to convey here. What we want gentleman, is true freedom and privacy to do what we want when we want. Our information is not currency, that’s what we are here for. Sometimes there are casualties of war, that inevitable. I understand that, and so should you. I don’t want to be surrounded by the actions of the past, nor do I want people to be constantly reminded of whoever we execute here. So when I tell you to clean it up, it’s not because I want some chores done, it’s because it could affect the way people see us. We killed and kill the people we kill because of one reason and one reason only. The government did not cooperate. If we have the place looking like a war zone then people won’t blame it on the government, they will call us terrorists, not revolutionaries! So clean this dam mess up!’

Connor brushes himself down and sits back on the crate staring deep into the lens once more.

Thirty six

‘It was risky coming down here Frank. They have an APB out on you, things could have gotten bad if any one radioed in your name. You would have gone up like a Christmas tree and then what?’ Jacob Asks McKenzie while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Frank is sitting down on a chair facing Jacob’s official looking office desk. He looks around the room and notices the large paintings of Jacob on the wall, like a stately home would have back in the eighteen hundreds. He thinks to himself. Asks himself one question, why so much grandeur? Frank has come across a lot of people in the political game in his career. All of them share the same characteristics when it comes to life style. Cut from the poor, give to the rich. Most media like to portray certain politicians as “for the people” but a lot of them don’t take into account the huge expenses these men and women take while furnishing their buildings, dressing their selves up for functions and driving limos to the airport while hopping on to private jets for globetrotting.

‘Nice office Jacob’ Frank remarks.

Jacob looks around the office trying to figure out if Frank was being a smart ass or the latter.

‘Thanks’ He replies.

‘It’s very stately wouldn’t you say?’ Says Frank

‘Yeah, you’re probably right there. It does its job though.’

Frank shakes his head in disappointment while lighting a cigarette up, his second cigarette in twenty minutes.

‘Tell me something Jacob. Why do you need all those pictures of yourself in the office? Do you forget what you look like or something? Surely a mirror would do the job just fine. No need for portraits of yourself. It’s just my opinion.’

Jacob nods in agreement, sipping his coffee examining Frank’s question with his eyes.

‘It is what it is Frank. I’m a successful man in my field. For all my hard work I get certain perks, that’s life, heck that’s my life! Is it wrong that I enjoy a certain level of success that most people do not reach? No, it’s not. Is it wrong that the government wants to cut your pensions despite your hard work for the state? Yes. Do I give a rat’s ass right about now? No. You’re here to discuss our agreement not my life style.’

Frank’s face is alight with anger, its shows. He gets up and stretches, while smoking his cigarette silently as if he was putting an exclamation mark on his opinion.

‘You know what Jacob’ Frank says abruptly while exhaling.

‘What Frank?’

‘You’re right let’s just get on with this. So how are you getting me the gear that I need?’

Jacob gets up from his seat and paces the width of his desk while looking at Frank cautiously.

‘There is no gear Frank. You can’t just expect me to magic what you need out of my ass. That’s not how it works. You need to give me time.’

Frank dismisses Jacob’s remark with a swatting motion of his hand.

‘Don’t give me that shit Jacob. Why the hell did you agree to me coming down here if you were not prepared to help me out?’

‘I would have thought that you would have worked it out by now Frank, being the detective and all’

Frank slams his fist on Jacobs’s desk to emphasize his anger.

‘Don’t Bullshit me Jacob!’

‘Look Frank I’m sorry but I’m the damn Defence Minister to the United States Government. This job means more to me then getting paid. It’s a position that I have worked my way up to since leaving the Marine Core seven years ago. I’m a black man doing a white man’s Job. We may not get another black President any time soon, but I can assure you that if we do, I’m going to be the next one. I can’t be risking my career let alone my freedom helping a fugitive break into the M.I.T research building and kill someone on a personal revenge trip, even if that person happens to be my best friend and former bunk mate at the core. Sorry Frank.’

Jacob exhales deeply and pats his pockets down. He reaches into his inner suit and takes a cigarette out. He lights it.

‘I’m sorry Frank.’

‘You’re sorry? Is that supposed to make me feel any better? If you’re not going to help me then why am I here?’

Jacob looks Frank Square in the eyes. The tension in the room is heavy as Frank dissects Jacob’s harsh stare. Jacob’s eyes dart to the intercom on his desk. Frank reacts.  He gets up and covers the intercom with his hands so Jacob cannot operate it. Jacob shakes his head in disappointment.

‘There’s no use trying to stop the inevitable Frank. You are going to get caught, sooner or later.’ Frank pulls the chord out of the intercom. The room is filled with a static buzzing sound for a few seconds.

‘Looks like you have already made your mind up, sooner seems to be what you’re batting at the minute Jacob. Like every true great batsman, you’re going to strike out, sooner or later.’

Jacob leans into face Frank nose to nose over the desk, both men staring each other down, both men with their hands on the table, both men waiting for the other to react.

‘Looks like we have a problem here Frank, not only have you got a warrant out for your arrest, you also have your self locked down in a government building with highly trained men. You lay one finger on me and you will be taken down. You may recall me talking to the guard at the gate. I told him that if you are spotted by yourself in the building then they have permission to shoot on sight, you are not leaving here without me letting you go!’

Thirty Seven

Chief Shaw pours himself another double.

‘Whisky in the early afternoon helps me think’ He says

Commissioner Alvarez remains seated while reading the newspaper in Shaw’s office. He is a slender and tall man of Mexican descent, he is known for his loyalty to the working officers of the Boston PD and the so called suits, an every man’s man. Chief Shaw overshadows Alvarez not by height but by demeanour and manner. Shaw’s New York Irish accent is worlds apart from the well-spoken tone of Commissioner Alvarez. The commissioner crosses his legs. His shiny shoes reflect the light in the room. Well-polished, his suit is well pressed. Shaw feels underdressed standing across the room to the well-tailored Alvarez. Alvarez rests the newspaper on his legs. Every action he depicts is as elegant and swarve as his $4000 suit. He looks up at the chief of police with a smile. Shaw thinks to himself how surprised he is that the man sitting across the room hasn’t got a gold tooth, considering his high price suits and style, its only befitting that the man have a gold tooth.

He laughs.

‘What’s funny Mr Shaw?’ Asks Alvarez

Chief Shaw takes another swig of whisky. The ice hits his teeth and makes him cringe. The clanging sound echoes around the room, another drink. He pours himself another double, braces himself, and clears his throat.

‘Nothing sir, it’s just been one of those days. I’m glad you made it down here okay. I heard that they shut down the airports after Connor Chase made his way into our lives.’ Says Shaw

Alvarez smiles and takes a sip of coffee while surveying the Chief’s body language over the rim of the cup.

‘I think you mean “minds” Chief Shaw.’

Shaw takes another sip, this time being more cautious of the ice in the glass hitting his teeth, using his mouth as a shield.

‘I don’t think I get you sir.’ Says Shaw

‘Not many people do Mr Shaw. What I meant was, when you said Connor chase made his way into our lives, I think you meant minds’

Shaw shakes his head

‘No sir. I meant lives’

Commissioner Alvarez gets up from his seat and pats himself down. He walks over to Shaw and puts his hand on his shoulder.

‘If Connor Chase was in my life, then I’d be scared to walk out of the door. I would be looking over my shoulder every ten minutes, watching and waiting for him to show up. Connor Chase is nothing more than fear in my head.’

Shaw looks Alvarez up and down, taking in the splendour of his apparel.

‘I’m quite sure that the people he’s holding hostage find Mr Chase very much in their lives sir.’

‘That may be, But to me he is just a number, a number that has to be eliminated out of the equation. Life is a formula Shaw, and Connor Chase is fucking up the formula!’

Shaw is shocked at the outburst of Alvarez. He takes another sip of whisky trying to take the edge off.

‘We are doing everything we can to capture Chase and his men’ Says Shaw

‘Obviously it’s not enough Chief seeing that you know where they are located and still have not intercepted them!’

‘It’s not that easy sir. Protocol has to be followed. It’s a public building sir. There are hostages involved and heavy media coverage on the case. We cannot jeopardise the safety of those hostages by bum rushing the place. More lives will be damaged than saved.’

Alvarez turns his back on Shaw and walks up to the drinks carbonate. He pours himself a double and drinks it in one shot. He turns to face the Chief of police.

‘I did not tell you to bum rush the place. I just want results and I want them fast! People’s lives are at risk here and not to mention Washington is breathing hard on me at the moment. They want this thing sorted out fast. They do not want a shit storm, so control it.’

‘Understood sir’ Says Shaw

Alvarez cracks a forced smile.

‘Look Shaw, you have ten hours to distinguish this Chase situation. If you don’t succeed then the FBI will take over all on-going operations out of this building.’

Shaw shakes his head in disappointment. Alvarez puts his empty whisky glass down on Shaw’s desk and makes his way out of the room. He pats Shaw on the shoulder and walks out of Shaw’s office, closing the door behind him.

‘Ass hole’ Mutters Shaw

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his mobile phone. He looks at the menu in anticipation.

‘Still no messages, what’s going on Nathan?’ Shaw asks himself

He puts the phone back into his pocket and pours himself another drink.