“Kellar don’t do this shit. I have to get out of here so I can…”
“Dammit John, would you let me finish talking and not interrupt, please. I know that you want out of here so that you can look into what’s going on, and you want me to release you sooner than I should so that you can. I just want you to look at this from my point of view. First of all, if you leave here before your body is ready, you have a greater chance of further injury. On top of that, we both know you are ready to throw yourself directly into harm’s way as soon as you head out of that door, and you sure as hell aren’t ready for full contact sports yet, so to speak. You won’t be able to help Caroline or your children if you run out onto the field half-cocked and half fucked-up. Now it’s not fair for you to even try to put me in to this position; I won’t be pulled in or swayed by your guilt trip on me. Caroline and Chris are safe right now, and they need you to get well. That is what your priority should be, honey.”
“My priority is not myself, Kellar. I have to figure this out. There are people who can help me do that, but not from this damn hospital room. If you won’t release me, then I’ll just have to find somebody else who will,” John threatened in his now very agitated state.
“No one is going to want that responsibility, John. You are not listening to me. I’m just asking for a little more time from you; it’s not that much to ask. I told you two maybe three more weeks tops, and then you can be out of here. I promise.”
“No! I’m leaving this week, even if I have to just walk out on my own dammit. I’ve had it, this discussion is over. Now I just want you to leave okay. Go wherever, I don’t give a shit; just leave me the hell alone!”
“Ugh.” Kellar knew better than to keep pushing when John was like this. She would not bend to his reckless request however, and she knew his department would have a field day with their endless supply of red tape if he tried to pull the stunt of checking himself out early against his doctor’s orders. John knew that as well, and she would just silently call his tantrum bluff. Holding in her own growing frustrations of annoyance, Kellar simply turned around, walked out the door, and went to seek out a different couch to collapse on.
The next morning Kellar and John brokered a deal to focus more on him getting stronger than on strengthening their argument. He realized that he wasn’t getting anywhere fast trying to intimidate her, and she promised him to keep an open mind about his progress and not be too over protective. The end result was John busting out “legally” with her blessing after two more weeks of hospital hell.
CHAPTER TEN
It felt good to be “on the outside.” John never wanted to see the inside of a hospital again if he could help it. He was ready to move on with this, and figure out his next move. He had now been outside of the hospital recovering at Kellar’s for a few days; it was part of their deal. She was making sure that he was all right before he went home. John had just been frustrated that it had taken so damn long to get a hold of this new contact. He had just spent the time trying to get his body stronger, while he kept trying. Finally, he had gotten a hold of the guy. After the strange phone call with his supposed new contact, what that next step would be was sure to be quite interesting. The man he spoke with sounded either slightly drunk or a bit high on something. He was less than cooperative in answering any of John’s questions, and seemed very nonchalant, even possibly uninformed about John needing to speak with him at all. Regardless, John was here at the row of dilapidated buildings they were to meet at. As the darkened cars approached, John took a deep breath and tried to collect his thoughts and calm his mind.
The cars came to a halt behind the back of the building and several men stepped out. A large entryway door was raised and as the black cars quickly drove inside, John was ushered in as well. As soon as John had entered through the doorway, the men quickly moved to close its exit. There was no turning back now, for better or worse he was trapped inside. The men moved toward the forward car as if surrounding it with their bodies’ protection, that and the protection of a few automatic weapons of course. Finally, a single man made his way out of the backseat of the car and entered into the now dimly lit air. The man wore a long, dark coat and pants. He was about John’s height, with dark black hair and a very lite shadowed beard to match. Even in the low light, John couldn’t help but notice the cold, intimidating stare of his steel blue eyes.
“It’s about damn time you showed up John. Running a few days late aren’t we? I hope you brought your doctor’s excuse or there’ll be hell to pay.”
John studied the man before him, was this really the guy that Devin had trusted John to follow up with? Even though John himself was feeling lost in his emotional turmoil, this guy didn’t seem entirely stable.
“You know why we’re here John?” The man continued. “You’re going to let us help you find out who tried to kill your son and what the sons a’ bitches are up to. Let’s just say that, um, that’s not really your decision to make; that decision has already been made. It might be helpful for you to understand that,” the man added.
“Decided by who?” John questioned.
“Your new owners, of course.”
“Bullshit, no man owns me.”
“Well, John, I’m afraid that we can’t afford for you to get chewed up and shit out again. I’m sorry; it appears you’re now a part of the family. I’ll tell you what, to be fair, since I know everything about you from what kind of toothpaste you use to the fact that I’d like to give that doctor friend of yours a good hard fuck, why don’t we get on a first name basis; name’s Derek.” With that, Derek held out his hand to John, while giving a sinister, half-cocked grin.
Indifferent to the bodyguards that had casually surrounded his target; an aggravated and now highly provoked Lieutenant John Goldman pounced at Derek’s disrespect. John might be sore, but he was pissed. He went in for a surprise uppercut that the man just did escape. That’s when John noticed it; either this man was weak or he had recently been on the wrong end of some kind of beat down as well. John sensing this possible even playing field quickly moved in for a second punch that landed, and was able to come around at an angle and get his steel toe boot drove directly into the man’s back, his possible Achilles heel. Surprisingly, John had taken the man down fairly quickly this way slamming him solidly into the concrete wall behind them with only moderate difficulty and while only suffering a single stinging bloodied punch of his own. Almost as quickly as he heard Derek’s groans of pain however, John would soon feel the pain of the butt of an assault rifle to the back of his head.
“Dammit!” Derek called out. “You stupid son of a bitch; you should have seen I was baiting him. I was looking forward to kicking his ass.” As the guilty guard helped Derek up, he met the appreciation of Derek’s knife to his throat. “Don’t jump the gun like that again you piece of shit. I have a bottomless pit of generics like yourself. I doubt anyone would miss your pathetic little ass,” The man nodded as he looked into the cold, steel eyes in front of him. Though relieved as Derek lowered the knife from his throat, his panic quickly returned as the knife’s handle jolted toward him, and he quietly slumped to the floor. Derek sneered and glanced slightly at the man now standing beside him. “Great, now we have to wait for John to finish napping. Pick both their asses up, let’s get out of here,” Derek ordered.
“Yes sir!”
John awoke slowly to unfamiliar surroundings with a pounding headache and a bad feeling as he discovered that he was being held in an enclosed cell of some kind. The glimpse of lighting in the air patiently brought him a mild sense of awareness, and as the bolted doorway announced the presence of visitors; John reluctantly turned his clouded consciousness toward their direction.
“John, I don’t generally think of myself as a nice guy, yet I reach out to you with a hand shake, and this is how you treat me,” another half-cocked grin soon emerged from Derek’s seemingly jovial expression. By the time John tried focusing on Derek’s demeanor however, it seemed a split
second change in contemplation had crossed Derek’s mind, and just as thunder follows lightning in an atmosphere of instability, Derek flaunted his unstable nature as he suddenly jolted forward into an attacking mode of rage upon an unsuspecting, still hazy, John. Though not anchored to the bed he was sitting upon, John now felt trapped as a flurry of fists crashed into his abdomen, as he himself crashed to the floor. John, defending himself the best he could in his clouded state of mind, now felt like the man’s strength had certainly increased since their last encounter. As John finally began to raise enough awareness to issue counter punches, he felt the man’s strength slightly weaning. This shred of confidence was however short-lived as John fearfully witnessed the man draw a gun to John’s head. He couldn’t read the man’s eyes; the echo of their sinister glare seemed to pass straight through him.
“Are you ready to die, John?” Derek darkly questioned. John didn’t dare move. “You know, they don’t have to follow the rules. Your simpleton police force sits around with its thumb up its ass while they laugh at you trying to follow all the rules and regulations they keep shitting out. These stupid federal bastards are making a mockery of you. You think they’re going to fight fair, allow you to be on equal footing, you stupid son of a bitch? You’ll be on cinder blocks sinking into some damned saltwater abyss before that happens. You think it some kind of milestone for them, this thing with your son? This, this is just the beginning. Though John, I do have to give you some credit, they haven’t killed you yet. I think that they’re maybe a little bit scared of you, but even more, they seem to have some reason to want to keep you around, temporarily of course. We need to figure out what that reason is and make use of it, before they decide that you’re just dead weight.”
“And whose rules are you following?” John then bravely questioned.
“We like to bend or break the rules in our favor, whatever gets the job done. Whatever is needed to stop these people in their tracks and fire a few bullets up their ass,” Derek lowered his gun, and pulled himself up. He then lowered a hand of assistance to John and helped pull him up. “I’m sorry about Devin. I never really liked the asshole, but um. Anyway, seems now I’m stuck helping your plebe-ass out, and you know, it might be bad for my image if you end up floating down river, so,” noticing John holding his side firmly, Derek snickered and added, “You want a drink? Fortunate for you we, I believe we share the same taste in whiskey just as I recall we do in women.”
As Derek began to make his way toward the door, John paused, and then proceeded to follow with caution. His forward progress though brought the attention of Derek’s entourage so to speak, several very large, militaristic guards. Being surrounded by these mercenary types was a bit intimidating, especially since they were heavily armed. Evidently, this asshole was of some importance, and although John wasn’t going to let himself be perceived as weak; he would definitely proceed with caution due to the complete instability of said asshole. After a few tense moments of being held up to seemingly allow Derek a well pronounced exit, John was escorted out of his concrete cell by the guards, who were wearing fashionable black fatigues. John was still unsure if he was supposedly surrounded by friend or foe, but these people might be the only ones he could get some kind of clue from, a clue to his own path for revenge.
John was led down a long corridor that held dark grey sconces that were dimly lit and only cast a limited path of light against a backdrop of light grey walls and darkened slate floors. They seemed to pass by several closed off rooms, which made John wonder if anyone else had been visiting these grand accommodations against their will. Strange, the corridors they “toured” were all pretty much empty except for a few more of the muscle men in black. Finally, they made a turn leading to a door that seemed to be their destination; it looked however like all the others. None of the doors had been labeled or numbered. John guessed that was an added security feature. The locks to the door clicked as they approached, and John had also figured that this place was crawling with cameras; hence their arrival was easily observable.
Surprisingly, the room John was now led into was a profound contrast to his former concreted quarters. As he entered, John took in his new surroundings which consisted of a large relaxed living room setting composed of oversized leather seating areas, high top table and chair sets, lush brown carpeting, fireplaces, a centerpiece pool table, and of course a large bar area accenting the back of the room. In addition, John noticed fairly quickly that there were a few beautiful women accenting the bar. Standing alongside these sexy broads was of course his new best friend, and John had already grown tired of Derek’s domineering, egotistical attitude, and his sideways sneering smile he now once again displayed.
Derek put his arms around two of the women as John approached. “They’re complimentary John, if you’d like.”
“I’ll a, have to regrettably turn down their services,” John replied, giving a sneer of his own.
“Ah, the family man, how quaint, and here I thought that you would freely give in, you banging the Doc. and all.”
“You know, you would think that if you were so knowledgeable about my dental hygiene, that you would know that I’m not fucking her,” John responded.
“Does that mean that I can share her toothbrush then? I think her lips would taste, ah, intoxicating. What do you think John? How do they taste?”
“What the hell is your problem Derek, if that’s even your name?”
“I’m just wondering why you’re so defensive of her, John?”
“Why are you so obsessed with her? Yeah, it bothers me that you keep bringing her up.”
“You know what I heard John is that the now Dr. Raines helped a Mr. Dave Goldman reign your little juvenile delinquent ass in. Spend some time in Juvie did we John? A little liquor, some needles, recurring pattern of physical confrontations, oh yeah and we ran away from that piece of shit home life a few times only to be picked up eventually and returned home to that evil bastard, returned by those son of a’ bitches hired to protect and serve, how ironic is that?”
John snapped at this disrespectful account of his past. “Fuck you, you son of a bitch! I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care about your damn status! You don’t have a right to pry into my shitty-ass beginnings, and you sure as hell don’t have the right to throw your half-ass intel in my face. I just had someone try to take the most important thing in my life from me, my son, you son of a bitch! I just spent three damned months in the hospital, and now you have the audacity to threaten me, then you kidnap me and throw all this shit in my face, fuck you!”
“And to think I offered to share my whores with you, tax free,” Derek laughed. “Come on John, be a good sport, how about that drink?”
John was furious, realizing he needed to try to calm himself, yet not wanting to. This man he decided was fucking nuts. He was getting under John’s skin, and John was beginning to realize that that’s what the man’s goal probably was. Maybe he was even testing John, throwing out what he knew would set off John’s anger episodes; John had to try to calm down. There was no telling what this man was capable of, and as much as John’s head was pounding, he had to clear it.
John made his way over to a barstool, surprisingly unobstructed by any guards. Even more surprising was the brazen action of Derek taking a seat next to John even after John’s long, protesting tirade against him.
“I’ll take my regular shot of whiskey,” Derek ordered the bartender. “Give my friend here a double,” Derek smiled and threw down a hundred in front of the bartender, who couldn’t answer yes sir fast enough.
“So what else you got here besides a minibar and a whorehouse?” John questioned, as he pushed his full shot glass aside. Although he would love to take a drink to calm his nerves, he knew better than to take candy from strangers.
Derek just smiled as he reached for and quickly downed John’s drink. He then stood and looked out into the living room. “You play John?” He asked.
“A little.”
/> “I like eight ball myself; I’ll even let you break.”
“What are we playing for Derek, information, explanation? What’s the prize, or the stakes?”
“Why not just a friendly game John? I don’t see any reason for ulterior motives,” Derek responded, amused.
“Right….” John responded in an even tone.
Derek unbuttoned his white sleeves and rolled them up as he reached for a stick. John chose his weapon, readied it, and walked over to the end of the table to see what he could break.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
One of the first things John noticed as he and Derek broke bread over the pool table was the tail end of the elaborate carving that seemed woven intricately around the left arm of his opponent. The detailing immense, yet John noticed the depth of the skin’s sacrifice for this work of art seemed a bit unusual. The altering shades of grey however flowed flawlessly into a deep blackness and seemed to outline that of a serpent; in fact it seemed to be one of a class of kings, a venomous cobra. The tattoo seemed to fit this man who at least thought of himself as the dictator of his world.
“So John, what do you think?”
“About what?”
“Oh I don’t know, the state of the world we’re in, the weather?”
“I’d have to say it’s a bit fucking hazy out there.”
“Well, I would have to agree with you. You know, I’ve heard the fairy tales of a land of checks and balances, John. It just doesn’t exist anymore. The only checks we have now are the ones that get bounced from one crooked son of a bitch to the next.”
“Seems that way.”
“Case in point, one of my leads in this messed up shit you and Devin got fucked up in, appears there’s a politician that worked his way into this somehow. Devin overheard his name, and he had been listening in on him to see why the asshole’s name had popped up a time or two. I’m taking over where he left off on that.”
Daze of Reality Page 7
