Acceleration

by Lin Larson

  “I talked to my mom,” she gushed excitedly. “She says that Jensen’s yacht is in Los Angeles at the Marina...ah…?

  “Del Rey?” Sam filled in.

  “Yeah, that’s the one. She hadn’t heard about a big meeting there. She wants to meet you again.”

  “Oh sure. No! I don’t think I’d like to do that. Tell her to interview some other fool, try Jensen.”

  “Funny? I said just that, Sam. She said she tried to see Jensen. She also said that President Quint has been behaving strangely and that all the news people have been talking about him. She thinks your theory might now be correct. She wants to apologize to you in person.” Heather trailed off.

  “No,” Sam said quietly.

  “Okay. Can I come over?”

  “No.” Sam wanted to see no one. Anyway, he’d be leaving in the morning.

  “Sam?” Heather gathered back her confidence. “The news people and the cops think you’re dead. They found a body washed up on the lake front in Chicago. It had two police bullets in it. Jensen identified the body as yours.”

  “Man, he is crazy and maybe desperate.” Sam was sincerely shocked. This was a direction he hadn’t expected from Jensen, but then Jensen was full of surprises. “He possibly wants to dissipate the media attention. Thanks for the information. I plan to be gone in the morning. Heather, I’ll never forget all you’ve done for me.”

  “I hope you never forget me. I like you a lot, Sam.” Her voice sounded so vulnerable.

  “I know, honey. Thanks. I care about you too, but as a very special friend. Stick with Eddie, he’s got guts and a lot of promise. I hope to read your prize winning books someday.”

  “When this is over,” Heather continued softly, “and if I finish my great American novel, will you read it?”

  “You bet, Miss St. John. By the way, how come you don’t go by Martin?”

  “St. John is my writing pseudonym. It has mystery, don’t you think?” Heather giggled.

  “Ah, yes, it does. I like it. I have to go now. I’ll talk to you again when it’s all over. By Miss Heather St. John.” Sam hung up the phone.

  “I bet you will write a famous novel, Heather,” Sam thought, “but it will probably be a pot-boiler of intrigue.” It was hard not to like Heather. He stretched in his chair. But he felt every bit of his years.

  Then all hell shattered his sanctuary.

  CHAPTER 31

  Actually, it was worse than hell. It was real.

  Gunfire began exploding through the windows of the house. Splinters coated Sam’s hair and back, as he hurled himself to the floor. He crawled through the glass fragments

  in the hallway. He bit back the pain as glass sliced into his extremities. He had almost made it to the doorway, when suddenly armed men hauled him to his feet and threw him up against the wall. Fists slammed into his face and chest. Over and over they repeated the blows. Sam choked with spasms. They tossed his blood spattered body to the glass encrusted floor. A shoe stepped on Sam’s head as he lay coughing and retching.

  “Hey, friend,” the voice of the shoe rasped out vehemently. “You need help? Too bad.” The shoe then kicked, as Sam wrenched his face from its path.”

  “You are dead, you know,” the voice simpered, “so I can do what I want with you, hot shot. This is for stealing my wife.” He kicked Sam in the back. “This is for my kid.” He aimed his foot again. “And this is for me!”

  This time Sam grabbed his foot and tipped his tormentor, yes Jensen, backwards. He spilled him noisily onto the treacherous carpet of glass shreds and smashed his face into it. His hate raged but was short lived. Jensen’s men reacted and cracked their weapons twice on Sam’s skull. He remembered the first shock of pain, but the second exploded his brain into immediate unconsciousness. He hoped the battle would end but not this way.

  Sam awoke to the surprise that he still lived. He was again in his den, and he remembered it was no dream. Sam’s face and body were swimming in pain and he was bound to his chair by leather straps.

  He forced his head up and words through his swollen lips. He stared at the face of Jensen. “Hum, thoughtful of you, to bring your own fashionable leather straps.”

  Jensen leered at him. The lights were suddenly bright in the room. Sam squinted through his cut flesh and lowered his head.

  “Lights hurt your eyes, Bastard? Good. Let me watch.” Jensen roared. “Who do you think you are that you can try to beat me? You think you can walk in and destroy all I’ve worked for. You think you can then disappear. To hell with you!”

  Sam felt his head being jerked up by his hair. He sputtered. “Don’t you think your jealousy is pretentious. And that entrance not classy.”

  Jensen answered by twisting his hands in Sam’s hair.

  Sam breathed deeply. “If you hate me so much, just kill me now and have it done with. If you don’t, I’ll have to eliminate you. I promise you that, old buddy.”

  “You do?” Jensen hissed. “I was never your buddy. I hated you back in college. You with your women and your success. You never had to work, it was handed to you.”

  “Wrong,” Sam said. “I worked hard. You were just too green with envy to see it. You were a loser and still are.” Sam clenched his teeth with hatred. “You can’t just plot and experiment against the laws of God and nature, then murder the innocent, and go free. You’ll die just like Hitler. If I don’t get you, someone else will.”

  “There is no one else.” Jensen’s eyes glinted in the bright lights. “Stone, I think I’ll keep you alive. I want to observe you squirm and die inside a bit each day. I have a network and power that you could never imagine. It will defeat you to watch.”

  Sam leveled his gaze into Jensen’s hungry eyes. “What are you trying to prove in the end? Is it all for power?”

  “Oh, I already have that.” Jensen preened.

  “The authorities will get you.” Sam countered.

  “I own the authorities, as you say.” Jensen roared with crazed laughter.

  “All right. Where are Alex and Sarah? Did you hurt Alex? I know you hurt Sarah, you bastard.”

  “Shut up…Later. I may tell you later. Maybe.” Jensen cooed. “Let’s watch your little

  television.” He fondled the control switch. “I’m missing my favorite programs.”

  “What are they?”

  “Shut up, I say. I watch the news.” He smirked and leaned forward.

  Sam saw something he hadn’t noticed before. Jensen had covered it beautifully to the casual observer, but here in the confines of a normal living environment, it raged. The guy was insane with obsession. He wanted power to own people. He wanted control like a pimp, but his junkies were world leaders. He lied, he didn’t just want limited power. He wanted it all.

  “Jensen,” Sam said with exhaustion, “How many more people are addicted to your drugs?”

  “My little vitamins?” Jensen laughed obscenely. “Thousands.”

  “The drug is unstable; you’ll never hold what you want,” said Sam calmly.

  “I was doing fine until you came along. I will continue until we’ve secured our position.”

  “What position, and how will you do that?” Sam said.

  “You’ll see. Shut up.” Jensen turned towards the broadcast and pumped up the volume until it blasted in Sam’s ears.

  #

  “This is Elizabeth Martin in Chicago. The body of Sam Stone has been definitely

  identified by his closest friend, Silas Jensen of the FBI. The writer was experiencing severe emotional problems, which led to his killing his brother and Jensen’s wife and daughter. The hospital tragedy was the insane man’s rampage.

  The case is officially closed. We now turn to exciting news from our Congress and President Quint. A gala dinner is planned off the California coast to reward the leaders for a job well done in balancing the budget. Also, military expenditures have been increased so as to defend our great nation against foreign terrorists from the world’s hot spots. I hope
to bring in our cameras and film the gala celebration for you. This is Elizabeth Martin from Washington.”

  #

  “I like her, don’t you? Silas Jensen looked far too happy.

  “Then there must be something wrong with her.” Sam snipped.

  “Elizabeth and I have known each other for a long time. She’s only beginning to benefit from my hard work. In fact, Stone, you brought us together.”

  “Me? Oh, I see, when I asked to see her. So she’s your girlfriend. When did you get her hooked on your poisoned vitamins?”

  “They are miracle pills. Why do you say my girlfriend? Jensen was actually puzzled.

  “On the news. I gave her more credit than she deserved. You called her honey on the air. She became irritated. I figured she didn’t like the condescension. I didn’t realize it was because she was your whore.”

  Jensen’s face clouded. “Shut up, Stone.” He stood up and took his red handkerchief from a once dapper suitcoat which was now streaked with blood. He wadded the cloth and jammed it into Sam’s mouth.

  Sam gaged and choked for a time. Then he breathed easier and watched Jensen.

  Jensen tore out the telephone cord and wrapped it around Sam’s head and over the cloth.

  Sam’s eyes filled with hate.

  “You don’t like not talking, do you? Do you, Stone? Get comfortable; you probably have charmed your last woman and certainly written your final book. You look funny. The great Sam Stone, is all trussed up like a piece of garbage.” He snorted and turned to a new station.

  “Cartoons! You wouldn’t think that I would enjoy them, but I do. You learn a lot about

  winning. I never lose.” Jensen became transfixed with a Road Runner cartoon and roared with glee.

  Sam started testing his bindings. Jensen noticed.

  “Oh, you won’t get free.” Jensen said gleefully. “By the way, no one will come to this house. The whole neighborhood has been lured away on a hoax. They got the word that a truck with poisonous gas had tipped over a short distance away. See all the work I went to, Stone. I know you don’t deserve it.” He laughed too loudly again and returned to his program.

  Sam waited and wondered what the men in the next room must be doing. And he worried about what this mad man’s next big move would be?

  “I like how they put my shows on so late at night. Cartoons aren’t just for kids, you know. Actually, I pulled some strings to get this program. Many people would thank me, if they knew. They will eventually, but not yet. It was nice of you to wait so patiently on my whims. My show is over now,” Jensen said smoothly. Then his face turned ugly. “Let’s go.” He called his men.

  “No drugs this time. I want you to feel every painful moment, Stone.” Sam was dragged outside and thrown down into the snow. The coldness numbed his swollen bruised face. He almost wished they’d leave him there, but he doubted he would be so lucky. Hell, he sure must have been in worst messes, well maybe.”

  Sam heard Jensen talking on a phone. Then the noise of two helicopters drowned his senses. The blades whipped the wind into a blinding frenzy as it landed. Sam tried to see through the shower of snow. It was some kind of hi-tech military copter. He would travel in style, he hoped. That feeling was quickly negated as he was pitched to the floor in the first copter. Jensen took the second one. Huge army boots held him down in the small enclosure. It was going to be a hell of a ride somewhere. He wondered if Jensen was toying with him. Was he really keeping him alive or would he just drop him off in midair? He probably would have obliged if it had been Jensen on the floor instead. But then, Jensen wanted him around. Sam felt better, that was a stupid move on Jensen’s part- the wanting him around. Jensen had made other mistakes. He’d kill Jensen and his terrible plans, but first he had to find Alex and Sarah.

  Sam’s head ached. Better to sleep while he could, if it was possible that is- with the huge foot in his face. He would sure like to amputate that guy from “his” face.

  CHAPTER 32

  Heather and Eddie had come too late. Looking around, they doubted Sam had survived.

  The door had been open and swinging in the night wind when they arrived. They had evaded the mass evacuation and had hidden in the shadows of the homes they knew well. They doubted the general populace had heard the gunfire; the townspeople were too far away. Heather had cried as the guns shattered the house.

  “Oh, God, Eddie, they’re killing him.” She had buried her head in Eddie’s arms and sobbed in silence.

  They didn’t dare be caught; it would do Sam no good. They had crouched long after the helicopters had gone and the cars departed. They had seen a bound and gagged body dragged and dumped onto the floor of the copter. They hoped that Sam had lived and that they would not see him dumped from the sky. The young people were too far away to be sure.

  Crunching their feet along the glass, they gingerly entered each room. Heather never let go of Eddie’s hand. She feared that if she let go, the spell would be broken and they would find Sam’s bullet riddled body or those of his wife and child. They saw the marks of struggle in the hallway and the blood. Heather let go of her lifeline, Eddie, and sprang to the bathroom. She leaned over the sink and waited for her body’s revulsion to subside.

  “Heather,” Eddie said simply, “do you want me to look around and you wait outside?”

  “Heather looked out with grief-stricken eyes and pale face. “Yes, please.”

  Eddie guided her to the back door. She collapsed her body on the small step. She couldn’t quite believe that the night could now be so quiet. The air should be vibrating from shock, but instead it was as if nothing had happened. It seemed to say that the old house had always been shattered to its core by violence. The wreckage would be brushed aside by the cruel elements, as if it never existed. It did, however, exist for now. How can the government cover up this brutal intrusion and destruction? She sighed in despair and wandered aimlessly among the trees. That’s when she saw it. Heather screamed, and she couldn’t seem to stop.

  Eddie exploded from the house and grabbed her shoulders. “What is it? Stop it!” Then he too saw it, his mouth fell open. He wanted to yell also, but he couldn’t seem to move.

  Hanging from a tree was the body of a young lovely woman with soft brown curls.

  “Please, don’t tell me that it’s Mrs. Sinclair, Alex.” Heather gasped out the words.

  “Heather, I think it is. There’s a sign on her. Oh, shit.”

  “What does it say?” Heather couldn’t look at those eyes or Alex. They were frozen open.

  “It-ah- says- bitch.”

  Eddie turned and grabbed Heather. “Let’s go back to the house.”

  “Eddie, we can’t just leave her there.” Heather couldn’t seem to stop crying.

  “We better leave her for the authorities,” said Eddie quietly.

  “The authorities! They probably did this!” Heather shrieked.

  “Heather, stop it!” Eddie shook her violently. “You are losing control. You can’t do that, not now.”

  “Oh, Eddie. Do you think Sam knew she was here?”

  “No, I don’t think so, but I could be wrong.”

  “What do we do now?” She looked helplessly up at Eddie, whose glasses sparkled in the moonlight. “Should we call my mom?”

  “No. Heather, I have a bad feeling about your mom and this thing.”

  “You think she caused this? You’re crazy. My mom may be sly, but she wouldn’t

  intentionally hurt someone.” Heather felt helpless. She hated that feeling. “Eddie, you’ve got to be wrong.”

  “She almost got Sam killed before.”

  “I know but she…she apologized.”

  “Oh, yeah, that really helps if you’re dead. Just say, “Hey man, I’m really sorry,” Eddie said sarcastically.

  “You’re making fun of me.” Heather sat right where she had stood, there in the middle of the alabaster snow-covered yard.

  Eddie knelt beside her. “I’m acting like a jerk.
I apologize.”

  She absently scooped up a handful of flakes of snow and tossed them up into the shadowy night. “There’s a dead lady over there, and I’m feeling sorry for myself. I’m sorry. Poor Sam.”

  “Yeah. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Eddie said sadly.

  “Where to?” said Heather plaintively.

  “Away from here. Sam said you might get hurt if you tried to help. I think he was right. You stay here. I’m going to California.”

  “Without me, no you’re not.” Heather jumped up.

  “Heather,” he turned her to him. “What if your mother is a big part of the wrong side? Could you turn her in?”

  “I …I don’t know.”

  “You’ll have to decide first.” He waited. “I know it’s a pretty lousy decision to make.”

  “Yes, it is.” Heather felt awful. “But if it’s true, she needs help and I want to be there for her.”

  “She may be too far along for you to help.”

  “Darn it! Okay, I’d turn her in. Is that what you want to hear?” She pulled away.

  “Not really. I want to hear that you’ll stay out of it.”

  “Eddie,” Heather turned and stood still. “I am in it. Let’s stop being hypothetical and get some facts. Don’t worry about me, I won’t cave in on you again. And…I won’t cop out. I’m in. I’m also freezing, let’s head for the car.”

  “Heather!” Eddie stopped her. “I’m crazy about you.”

  “Isn’t everyone?” Heather smiled. “Did I really say that?” She planted a quick kiss on his lips and stomped her way through the snow.

  Eddie pushed his glasses further up on his nose and followed her in a gallop. He felt like a very unlikely hero at the moment. He hoped that the strangling in his chest would go away. He doubted it. It probably would be there for some time.

  “Heather, wait up!” His voice bounced off of the deserted house and was absorbed by the indifferent night.

  CHAPTER 33

  Sam was beginning to feel a huge cramp in his leg. But, his stretching seemed to activate his captor’s foot. It began kicking his head.