Shatter Point

by Jeff Altabef

  Aunt Jackie blasted the man in the middle with a clean shot to the head, but when Jack pulled the trigger, his target dodged to the right and the dart missed.

  As the guard leveled his assault rifle, Tom leaped forward and grabbed the barrel of the weapon. He yanked the gun up and a volley of bullets ricocheted off the ceiling. Sweeping the guard’s feet, they both fell hard to the floor, hands still locked on the assault rifle. The security guard twisted on top of Tom and head-butted him hard, connecting with his nose, which began to spurt blood like a fountain.

  Tom released the gun and the guard grinned, then fell backward with a thump. Jack had shot him in the back of the neck. He fell to the side unconscious, still clutching the assault rifle.

  Jack helped him up.

  “Thanks, brother.”

  “Why are you thanking him?” Aunt Jackie grumbled. “That was his man.”

  Jack threw his hands out in frustration. “The guy jumped out of the way!”

  “I told you to aim for his chest,” Aunt Jackie growled.

  Jack pointed to the man Aunt Jackie plugged, the bullet hole visible in his forehead.

  She shrugged. “I don’t miss.”

  Steven, Gabriel, and Moses raced over. Gabriel limped as he ran.

  “Are you okay?” Tom asked.

  “Moses shot me.”

  “I said I was sorry,” Moses said sheepishly. “The gun went off by accident.”

  Tom peeled off his mask and blood smeared across his nose and cheeks.

  Steven tossed him a rag. “We made more noise than I had hoped.” He scanned the boardroom with a worried expression on his face.

  Mary studied the three-dimensional holographic version of the industrial building. Her heart thumped in her head and she held her breath when she saw the jumble of bodies by the front staircase. She breathed only when three figures stood to one side. She could make out Aunt Jackie—half the size of the other two.

  Her concentration was so intense and focused on the gadgetry that she hadn’t notice two armed men sneak up on the van. She discovered them only when they yanked open the backdoor of the vehicle, and she screamed.

  Two eerily similar faces smiled back at her.

  ***

  Tick darted into the van and smacked her with the back of his hand. The momentum from the blow propelled her against the side of the van, and she fell awkwardly on her hip.

  “Shut up,” he snarled.

  Tock pointed to the holographic image. “Looks like our targets are on the third floor.”

  Mary lunged for the system’s controls and managed to slap the power button before Tick caught her by the waist and tossed her to the floor. She fell hard and groaned.

  “She’s a live one,” Tick remarked.

  “We’d better take her along. I love a good hostage.”

  Tick grabbed her by the hair and pulled her out of the van. “If you scream, I’ll shoot you.” He pressed a handgun to her back while he wrapped his left arm around her neck.

  “Come on, brother, stop playing with the hostage and let’s collect these boys. We can have fun with her later.”

  Jack glanced at the door that led to the boardroom, and the air in his lungs froze. Cooper is here. He felt the evil bastard’s presence like a bad cold, and clutched the handle of his dart pistol, anxious to meet the monster who stole his mom.

  “The room should be soundproofed” Tom said. “I’m sure they have sound-soaking paint, double walls, and the latest fiberglass insulation. It’s possible they didn’t hear any of the noise we made.”

  Steven removed a small transistor from one of the many pockets in his Kevlar vest and clicked a switch. The device turned green.

  “What’s that?” Tom asked.

  “This is a transmission inhibitor. It prevents anyone within two hundred feet from using cell phone signals to radio out for help.” Steven glanced at the boardroom. “I’m sure they have the latest in Beacon technology, which will eventually outpace the inhibitor. The Beacon searches for different signals until it finds one. The inhibitor will buy us some time, but not much. Come on, let’s get within sonar range to view inside the room.”

  The group crept forward until they saw the interior of the boardroom through their goggles. Seven people stood clustered together behind a long desk. Three were armed.

  Steven frowned. “They know we’re here. The driver is in the center. The vice president and Cooper Simmens are on the ends, hiding behind hostages. This is going to get messy.”

  It appeared that Vanessa sat at the end of the table, and George stood in front of her. The vice president cowered behind them both.

  “We need to disarm them without hurting any of the innocents. Sheppard ordered me to keep the vice president safe. His death would bring heat—too much heat for the Wine Merchants and the Fourteenth Colony.”

  ***

  Tom spun in a circle and scanned the floor’s open layout. There has to be something here I can use. His vision lingered on the ceiling. “Do you have any smoke bombs in your vest, Steven?”

  “Sure.”

  “This is warehouse space. They design it with a central air duct system in case there’s a fire. The flames channel into the air duct like a chimney and away from the rest of the floor.”

  He wandered toward the center of the floor and pointed to a grate in the ceiling. “This duct will be fireproofed and lead into the boardroom. If we toss in a smoke bomb, the air circulation will carry the smoke to the boardroom.”

  “That’s brilliant,” Jack said.

  “I like it.” Steven handed Tom two small, round, plastic devices. “Just squeeze them until the device flashes red and toss them down the air ducts as far as you can. We need the air current to carry the smoke to the boardroom. We don’t want to smoke ourselves out.”

  Tom took the devices. “Got it. I’ll need to stand on someone’s shoulders to reach the grate.”

  As the broadest, Gabriel agreed to be the human ladder.

  The rest of the group headed for the boardroom.

  ***

  Steven stood next to the boardroom door. “Once the smoke fills the room, I want to move fast. We’ll be able to see through the haze with our sonar vision, so that gives us a big advantage. I’ll take out the driver, and in the confusion, we’ll disarm the vice president and his chief of staff. It looks like they’re both holding handguns, so be careful.”

  He swept his eyes over the team. “The objective of the mission is to take Cooper alive. There’s no need to kill anyone.”

  Aunt Jackie huffed.

  ***

  Tom saw Steven flash the go sign, and climbed on Gabriel’s wide shoulders. He pulled off the metal grate and dropped it to the concrete floor. It made a louder clatter.

  Peering into the duct system, he found three smaller shoots that led from the main channel. Which one leads to the boardroom?

  All three were similar, but a cool breeze came from the one farthest to his left. Then he noticed the extra insulation, which confirmed his choice. He squeezed the smoke bombs, waited for them to turn red, and tossed them as far as he could down the left shoot. When the devices detonated with a soft pop, he dropped to the floor and raced to the boardroom with Gabriel at his heels.

  By the time Tom burst into the meeting room, Steven had already taken down the driver and disarmed the vice president and his chief of staff.

  Wickersham writhed on the floor in pain with a miniature taser in his hand.

  Vanessa sat at one end of the table next to George, who stood behind her, his face ash white.

  Jack slumped in a chair, holding his head and groaning, stricken by another headache—from the looks of him, a bad one.

  The sonar vision switched off, and the world turned gray with swirling smoke.

  All waited for the haze to dissipate but Aunt Jackie, who cursed and quietly slid from the room.

  It took a few minutes for the smoke to clear, but when it did, three figures appeared in the doorway. Tick held
Mary with his arm across her neck and a handgun pressed hard against her temple.

  Tock stood on his right, his assault rifle level.

  “Throw down your guns or I shoot her,” Tick said.

  Tock snickered next to him and swept the barrel of his rifle across the room, pausing for a moment on Cooper.

  ***

  Steven hesitated. His mission was clear—make sure the vice president remained unharmed, protect Gabriel and Moses, and then recover Cooper. He knew what he should do. The scene played out in his mind: he should shoot Tock; Tick would kill Mary; and he would have enough time to kill him afterward and complete his objectives.

  It was simple enough, except nothing was simple now that Sheppard had breathed life back into his stone heart. He liked Mary, and sacrificing her was no longer acceptable.

  He cursed to himself and tossed his pistol on the table. Everyone else dropped their weapons on the floor while he focused on the twins.

  One’s eyes darted around the room, his grip on the gun tight. Sweat glistened on his knuckles. He looked scared and nervous.

  The other appeared cool and calm, but heat smoldered behind his eyes.

  Steven knew that fire; the man wanted to kill and eagerly anticipated what might come next.

  “Kill them! Kill them all!” Cooper shouted.

  ***

  The twins shared a glanced, and Tick’s heart sank. He didn’t enjoy killing. He only wanted to take the boys. He even hoped to find a way to let Mary go. He’d let other hostages go before without telling his brother. They could do other things to make money.

  Their uncle was a florist, and Tick liked flowers. If he could kick the addictions that roiled him, he could think clearly, plan something concrete.

  Then he saw his brother’s eyes, and everything became clear. His heart plummeted.

  Tock was the quiet one, but he was born to kill. He enjoyed it. Now he wanted to kill again.

  ***

  The energy drained from Tom’s legs and he almost fell to his knees.

  How could this happen? She’s supposed to be safe in the van.

  The world tilted on its axis and time stopped. Sweat froze on the back of his neck. He hadn’t even told her he loved her yet.

  He stared at the gun pressed against her temple. They’re going to kill her.

  Panic raced through him. He tried to shove aside the despair that raked him, but the pistol was a .44 caliber weapon. A bullet fired at that range would pierce her skull, rip apart her brain, and escape through the other side along with much of her head. She would die in a heartbeat.

  He stripped the mask from his face and let it fall to the ground. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let her come.

  “Let her go,” he pleaded.

  He didn’t know what else to say. He poised to jump, but it would be pointless—the distance was too far. Possibilities and probabilities swirled in his mind. There had to be a way to trade places, but nothing computed—all his intelligence, useless. Every scenario ended the same way. Still, he would try. He had to try.

  He bent at the knees.

  Aunt Jackie silently glided behind the twins, her pistol held steady. She looked like the shadow of death.

  One twin shifted his weight and moved into a shooter’s stance, his eyes glimmering eagerly.

  The other twin increased the pressure around Mary’s neck and held her still as his finger tightened on the trigger.

  ***

  When the sonar glasses shut off, Aunt Jackie knew something was wrong. She had worked too many jobs not to trust her instinct now, so she slipped from the room and hid in the shadows.

  It didn’t take long for the twins to show up. They moved like mercenaries—confident and well trained as they dragged Mary with them.

  When they entered the boardroom, she slid behind them, silent and ready. She knew what she had to do.

  She leveled her gun at the head of the one holding Mary. She couldn’t kill them both. Maybe when younger she might have been quick enough, but that was another lifetime ago.

  Still, she had no choice. She loved the boys, and by extension, she loved Mary. It was her job to protect them. It’s the one job I’ve been trained to do. The one job where I can’t fail.

  Faces flashed through her mind in a whoosh—names she hardly remembered. In the past, she’d always felt a wave of anger before pulling the trigger. Sometimes, she believed she was born angry.

  She felt no comforting fury now. This was her one chance at redemption. After all the hate and killing, she would act out of love. A peace she had never experienced before filled her with strength.

  Can this one selfless act save me after all I have done? Will I see John again?

  She had started to think about him more often.

  She narrowed her eyes and squeezed the trigger.

  The bullet exploded through the one twin’s head, and the other twin spun.

  Jackie swung Excalibur at him, but he moved too fast and peppered her with bullets. Ice-cold needles pierced her body.

  She smiled as she collapsed to the ground. She expected pain but felt none.

  ***

  Steven flicked his wrist, and the handle of a throwing knife dug in the center of the remaining twin’s back.

  Tom lunged forward and reached the assailant before he turned, grabbed him around the shoulders, and drove his head into the wall. Plaster chipped as Tom rode him down to the ground and smashed his head into the floor again and again and again. He lifted the man’s bloodied head for a fourth time, but Mary stopped him.

  He shuddered angrily as she wrapped her arms around him.

  Jack raced to Aunt Jackie’s side and cradled her head in his hands. “You’re going to be fine, Aunt Jackie.” He gently peeled off her mask. “We’re going to get you to a hospital.”

  She coughed up blood. “Don’t be stupid, sonny boy. It was bound to happen sometime. Every circus ends eventually.” She smiled and tried to sit up, but she didn’t have the strength and fell back into Jack’s hands, still clutching Excalibur.

  “Do you know what they used to call me, Jack?” She smiled thinly.

  Jack shared a helpless look with Tom. “The Sorcerer of Secretariat.”

  She smiled. “The Sorcerer of Secretariat. I wish you had seen me. They still talk about me.”

  “I bet you were great.”

  “You don’t know this, but... I quit the circus when you were born. Maggie was sick and I took care of you for four months until she recovered. That was the best four months of my life.”

  She coughed again. More blood this time. “I should have quit the business for good back then, but I was afraid. So much hate and killing. Those were the only things I was ever good at. I should have been braver.”

  She smiled with only the edges of her lips. “Don’t tell Thomas, but you’ve always been my favorite.” She coughed again and spit blood from her mouth as she scowled at Jack. Her eyes focused sharply and she grabbed his shirt. “Make sure you kill him, Jack. You’ll never be free of him until he’s dead. Some people need killing. I’m counting on you, sonny boy.”

  ***

  As life left her, Jack felt her love for him in a wave of emotion that blew him back as if a dam had broken. He shook and tears tracked down his face.

  Gabriel grabbed Cooper Simmens by the suit jacket and lifted him off the ground. “So you like killing women, do you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sputtered. “I have a family. You’re crazy.”

  Gabriel slapped him hard across the face and sent him sprawling to the floor at Moses’s feet.

  Moses grabbed two handfuls of hair and pushed him down hard on the floor. He held him for a moment and looked up, his face ashen. “He’s telling the truth. It’s not him.”

  Terry glanced at the video monitor and saw Maggie sitting in the leather recliner, drawing. How boring.

  He daydreamed about her demise and longed for the climax with childlike anticipation. Latel
y, Cooper had let him do more of the end work. He liked the feel of the surgical instruments—the cool steel in his hand, the look of panic on the woman’s face. Cooper always strangled the last bit of oxygen from them, but he always smiled as Terry inflicted some of the punishment.

  Terry knew it was his destiny to hurt people and had known it from an early age. He’d fought against those urges for a long while, but Cooper saw through his exterior. He understood the real Terry and had freed him to be his true self.

  Most of the time, he lived an exciting, interesting life traveling with Cooper as a member of his staff with no specific responsibilities. His official title, Butler, sounded old fashioned, but old was in right now, and he loved the way it rolled off his tongue.

  As butler, he enjoyed an elevated status over Cooper’s other personal servants, and was supposed to manage them when he wasn’t finding the next Maggie. He reveled in his role as supervisor and used his leverage to blackmail legions of servants—cooks, maids, drivers, assistants, and others. He caused all types of pain, some physical, but more often emotional and mental. He yearned to go back to that life, hating the Maggie Times, as he called them.

  The Maggie Times were dead time. As the one responsible to keep the latest victim safe and secret until they had their way with her, he hated watching the latest Maggie, tending to her needs, befriending her. He wanted to dominate the other members of the staff, but everything Maggie-related had to be done secretly, and he simply didn’t get the opportunity.

  He surveyed his sparse room—just a bed, one dresser and the video monitor. During the Maggie Times, he spent all his time focused on the latest Maggie. The nightclubs, fancy dinners, and gallery openings all vanished.

  He sighed. The worst part of the Maggie Times was the oppressive sameness of it. How boring!

  This Maggie bored him worse than the others. All she wanted to do was draw, draw, draw. Luckily, the Maggie Times had dwindled in duration over the past few years. What started as a month had shrunk to a week, and the last time, only three days. This Maggie would never last, but he fretted over Cooper’s busy schedule packed with events and meetings. Set to leave town in the morning, he wouldn’t return for weeks.