On the Heels of Evil

by D. E. Daum

  Kelly walked over, cuffed him, and said, “Perhaps your parents didn’t raise such a big fool after all.”

  * * * *

  The operation was over. The personnel were being dispersed to their origins. Colonel Dickens was still convalescing, therefore he was unable to assume authority. Hayden Crenshaw had recovered from his anxiety attack and did assume command for the cleanup.

  Kelly, Mariam, Haman, and Jane were to head back to England. Before Kelly left, he brought Rubin Fawler up to date by phone and vice versa.

  “Only two suicide bombs went off with only seven dead and fifteen wounded, including the bombers, out of sixty-two terrorists,” Fawler said. “Man, it was a miracle. Great, great job, Saleem. You had all the fun, and I missed all the action. I think I got the raw end of the deal.”

  “Heck, I might have saved your life by sending you away.”

  “Right! Instead I got sent on a wild goose chase to interrogate a goose-stepping kraut.”

  “Kraut? Nice talk.”

  “Have you met this guy?”

  “Actually, Rudolf and I had a heart-to-heart talk about three and a half weeks ago.”

  “Then you know he’s a prick. He is the most prejudiced guy I’ve ever met. He looks at me as if I’m a rodent. I would sure hate to switch places with him. Blacks are at the bottom of the food chain with his type.”

  “I take it you didn’t get anywhere with him, then?”

  “Nothing he would directly admit, just insinuations. He was behind the whole Vegas/L.A. thing, I’m sure. He wants us to know, but he’ll never admit it.”

  “Well, Rubin, c’mon back for now. Hayden needs your help. I’ll see that you get another crack at him in Germany, in a couple of weeks.”

  “Germany, huh? My wife always wanted to go to Europe. Maybe I could make it a working vacation.”

  “Why not?”

  Epilogue

  Fifteen Days Later

  Tira Zada Terror Training Camp, Sudan

  It was 3:00 a.m., everyone was asleep. Everyone that is, except the sixty commandos that exited from three troop transport helicopters. Six Apache helicopter gunships guarded the troops from overhead. A dozen airborne troops had parachuted in forty minutes earlier and secured the perimeter. Intelligence indicated that three hundred and fifty trainees were present with some sixty-five instructors and associated personnel. The commandos were instructed not to take prisoners. There was virtually no resistance.

  “General Crenshaw,” Lieutenant Sandy Roberts said, “we’ve found it. The nuclear device was in the ammunition depot.”

  “Good, lead me to it, Lieutenant.” Lieutenant Roberts led Hayden to a medium-sized building, about thirty by forty feet, on the edge of the camp. “That’s it all right,” said Hayden, “Make sure the nuke is operational, then set it to detonate at 0400. Lieutenant Hiller, make sure you get all the computers, and everything else that looks interesting onto the choppers.”

  “General, shouldn’t we have taken some of the terrorists prisoners?” asked Liutenant. Roberts.

  “Normally we would, son, but with what is about to happen here, we cannot afford to leave a fingerprint of our involvement.”

  At Hayden’s request, Captain Gonzales assembled everyone for the General’s address. “At ease, gentleman. Mission accomplished! This was a job well done. ‘Operation Dickens’ has been an unmitigated success. It’s too bad my friend, Colonel Dickens couldn’t make the trip, since this operation was made possible by his quick thinking. Putting that satellite beacon inside the nuclear device was a stroke of genius. Unfortunately, he only had one beacon. Let us hope the other bomb, doesn’t come back to haunt us.”

  Three hours later, CNN Headquarters, Atlanta, Ga.

  “We interrupt this program for a special announcement! We take you now to Cairo, Egypt where Christiane Amanpour is standing by. Christiane?”

  “Thank you, Dana. At approximately 4:00 A.M. Cairo time a violent explosion took place in a desolate area near the border of Chad and Libya, about two hundred miles northwest of Khartoum, the capital of Sudan. We don’t know yet what caused the explosion. The area is virtually uninhabited. Some are saying it could have been caused by the impact of a large meteor, Though NASA denies it. Still others believe it to be a nuclear explosion, citing the fact that a couple of large terrorist training camps were operating in the area.”

  “Christiane. This is Dana. Has anyone visited the site yet?”

  “Not on the ground as of yet. It’s in a remote area ten hours on a bad road from here. Government officials have flown over the area. I understand they took pictures, which have not been released yet. Word has leaked out that there is a circular charred area of devastation roughly fifteen miles across with sporadic fires. The smoke is clouding visibility. There are reports of radioactivity, which if true, would reinforce the nuclear theory. Back to you, Dana.”

  Al Qaeda, Training Camp, outside of Peshawar, Pakistan

  “Dr. Kusem?” asked the young man—a teenager.

  “I am,” the doctor answered.

  The young man pulled out a gun and aimed it at the doctor. “I have been sent to retrieve you. It is a matter of life and death.”

  “I’m a physician, son. You don’t need a gun to receive my services.”

  When they got to the camp, hardly anyone was ambulatory. There were many deceased, wrapped in blankets. The boy led him to a small hut where a very tall, avuncular-appearing, bearded man reclined on a cot. He was sweating. Much of his hair had fallen out and was lying on the ground. His face was blistered. When the doctor checked his body, it was blistered as well. His skin was sallow with a bluish tinge and looked waxy. The room smelled foul because the patient had regurgitated. If Dr. Kusem didn’t know better, he’d think this man had suffered second-degree burns over his entire body.

  He looked at the boy and asked, “Are there others like this?”

  The boy stepped to the doorway and waved his arm outward as if he was indicating the entire camp.

  “Has anything new entered your camp?”

  The boy crossed his arms and with a proud look, said, “Just the most powerful bomb in the world.”

  “Has everybody that is sick seen the bomb?”

  “Yes, everybody but me has seen it.”

  Dr. Kusem said, “There is nothing I can do for him.” He turned to walk away.

  The boy shot Dr. Kusem in the back and went in to see the wonderful bomb for himself.

  Ramstein Military Base, Ramstein Germany

  Just a few hundred feet more and I’ll be free! No one will find me, thought Rudolf Eckert. I’ve got to hurry before that stupid American nigger discovers I’m missing. Shit, this chain link fence will slow me down. When I get free and take control of the Fatherland, I will insist that the Americans leave. I know where to get a dozen more bombs, but I’m not about to use the ragheads anymore. They’re too unreliable and unstable. I thought we could use them, but I was wrong.

  “You! What are you doing here?” cried Eckert, shocked and now apprehensive.

  “Waiting for you. Hello, Rudolf, making a run for it? Did you forget our agreement? You know, the one where you would live a peaceful, quiet life and stay out of politics, terrorism, world conquering, and all that sordid stuff? Now you’re running away. Is that because you broke our agreement?”

  “Get out of my way before you get hurt.”

  “You know, Rudolf, I’m glad you’re running. I wasn’t sure when I gave Rubin instructions to leave you alone outside in the courtyard that you’d run, but you did. You might say you made my day.”

  This’s a setup? I was allowed to flee so this woman could meet me? Unarmed, no less. I owe this woman. She cut off my finger. I shall kill her and then get away.

  “Rudolf, do you know why I’m happy you ran? It’s because you broke our agreement. Now I get to kill you. I’ve wanted to kill you all along, you evil pig, but a deal is a deal. However, you reneged. Now, I finally get to kill you.”

&nbs
p; What’s this mad woman talking about? She’s but a woman, unarmed and half my size.

  Rudolf noticed a huge sand nigger standing eight meters to his left. He turned around, and the nigger was behind him.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Rudolf. You’re thinking that it’s not fair that an out-of-shape, overweight whale like you has to fight for his life against a lean, well-trained, fighting machine like me, so I’m going to even things up. I will use only my legs. How’s that? Oh, and don’t worry about Haman and Rubin. They have orders to let you go in the unlikely event you survive. They don’t like you either, and they want to watch me kill you. After all I haven’t killed a Nazi since Adlerhorst.”

  That got Eckert going. He charged Jane, who promptly sidestepped and kicked him in the head. Eckert got up and charged again. Jane stood her ground and kicked him in the face. He went down again, blood spurting uncontrollably out of his broken nose. He groaned, slowly rolled over, and forced himself to rise. Jane swept his feet out from under him, and on the way down, she kicked him in the groin with her right foot and under the chin with her left. He rolled back and forth on the ground, holding his crotch. He could barely breathe due to the kick to the chin, which just missed his windpipe, the place she was surely aiming.

  Eckert was finally getting the idea he was overmatched and couldn’t beat this woman, “Who are you?”

  Jane cast a wicked bone chilling grin. “I’m your anti-Fairy Godmother, your personal Grim Reaper. Are you ready for your trip to the Netherworld? Say hello to your boss for me.”

  Shaken and beaten Eckert said, “I will go back. I will abide by our agreement.”

  * * * *

  “Haven’t you heard what I’ve been saying? You abrogated our agreement. You even sent suicide bombers into one of our cities. There is no agreement.” Jane hit Eckert in the neck with a wild three-sixty, spin kick. Eckert’s head flopped over like it was connected only by the skin. “There is only death.”

  “Haman, bring his body. We can’t leave it here.”

  Jane glanced at Fawler and waved. “Rubin, thanks. Well done! Enjoy the rest of your vacation. I’ll be seeing you when you get back. We have a lot of work to do.”

  The End

  ABOUT D. E. DAUM

  I live in a small town in Arizona near Phoenix . I grew up in the Midwest and moved to Arizona twenty years ago. I have been writing fiction for almost four years and have published several stories under a pseudonym, including a few here on eXcessica.

  On the Heels of Evil is my first venture into the world of crime, mystery, suspense, action and terrorism and I enjoyed it. A sequel for On the Heels, titled A Woman of Valor is under way as is an exciting story of assassination and mayhem called Achilles 42.

  www.ddaum.wordpress.com

  de_daum@yahoo.com

  If you enjoyed ON THE HEELS OF EVIL, you might also enjoy:

  AFTER

  By Varian Krylov

  THE APOCALYPSE: A chimera devastates the human population. Technology fails and infrastructure crumbles. Civilization collapses.

  AFTER: A generation apart, two women and the men who love them make incredible sacrifices to survive, and to destroy a brutal system of sexual slavery in a world where men outnumber women ten-to-one.

  After two years roaming the devastated South alone, eighteen-year-old Eva is captured and held prisoner by the few surviving soldiers at a military base, who haven’t seen a woman since The Dying. In Eva, Major Smith sees only the future of the human race, and he’ll exceed all moral boundaries to ensure she gives birth to the next generation. But Eva and John—the man she is paired with—are determined to fight for freedom and a better future.

  Two decades later, on the other side of the country, a Resistance woman is captured and brutally punished for subverting the Sex Laws. When she flees to the Resistance, Nix must decide if the man who helped her escape can be trusted, or if he’s a spy using her to infiltrate the counter-slavery movement. As Nix makes her way east, her story twines with Eva’s in a way neither woman could have imagined.

  Warning: This title contains elements of nonconsensual sex, anal sex, m/m sex and a m/m/f threesome.

  Review by Witchgiggles at Alternative Reads

  After is not a book which can be read in one sitting. It is a complicated study of men and women at both their best and worst…when choice has been stripped away and then alternate options discovered. I found it both dark and desperate twined round hopeful and optimistic with a dash of wit and humor sprinkled along to leaven it. The people and situations at times are so real that I clenched my teeth in anger, wiped my eyes in sorrow and simply shook my head in resignation at the futility of some of it. Varian Krylov has created a world that was in some instances far too real for my peace of mind with stunning clarity of expression and descriptions that created pictures all too visible in my mind. I hope none of us must ever face anything close to her creation. A definite must read.

  Review by Dianna from Manic Readers Reviews

  (O)ne of the most interesting books I have read in a long, long time. It takes place sometime in the future after the death of most of the world’s population. I kept wondering what would happen next. Would it all work out for the best or would the worse happen? This book is definitely worth the time to sit down and read it.

  EXCERPT from AFTER:

  Five were dressed in the simple, draping gowns of white traditionally worn by women in that town, on the day their virginity would be taken. Only one of the five knew this. She had lived ”off the books,” as they said in that region of the country, among resistance women until she was eleven. Then her cell had been infiltrated, and she’d been wrenched from her mother’s arms and taken to the orphanage. All the years since, Andrea kept the truth of the world outside the walls of the institution a secret from the other girls. Let them have their peace. When they came of age, they’d lose it forever. Even the ”lucky” ones. The bleeders.

  As soon as they were robed, Amy was taken off on her own, nervous, but more excited than scared, and Andrea felt sorry for her. Andrea thought of her mom and figured that, really, Amy had it the worst of all of them. Even if her first wasn’t so bad, as soon as she’d had her baby, she’d see.

  Old Miss Mary herded Andrea and the other three downstairs, into a dark and polished chamber furnished differently than any of the rooms the girls were normally allowed to enter, with upholstered chairs and sofas, colorful drapes, and wooden tables with gleaming surfaces and ornate legs.

  “Be still and quiet, now, until we’re summoned,” Miss Mary ordered in a hushed voice.

  All the times she’d thought of this day, Andrea had imagined how she’d be brave. Not scared. It was just her body they’d own and use. Her self, her soul, would always be hers. But waiting in that somber room, it was hard to believe in the distinction. The thought of some strange person, a man with a rough face and rough hands, licking and touching and lying on top of her twisted her insides in a knot. The waiting, there in that foreign room filled with all their nervous uncertainty, her hands were ice cold and damp. She felt a little dizzy.

  A heavy knock on a door by the window rattled her body under that heavy white gown.

  “Keep quiet now, girls, and do just as you’re told,” Miss Mary admonished for the hundredth time, and led them through the door.

  Silent except for the rustling of the white cloth draped around them, the four followed Miss Mary into the adjacent room. Then there was a small sound, like the sucking of air from a room just before the wind slams a door shut. The sound of four women catching their breath.

  Andrea fought to keep her gait even, to do as Miss Mary was directing, but the stares of all those men, it was like a wave rushing at her, pushing her over, sweeping her feet out from under her. It must have been worse for the others. At least Andrea had seen men before.

  As the four took their places, lining up along a wall papered in russet hyacinths on a yellow background, Andrea counted them. Eleven. Like she reme
mbered from before the orphanage. All of them bigger than the largest of the girls or their watchers. Taller, wider, older, rougher.

  Would they do it right here? With Miss Mary watching? Would it be all of them at once? Or would three girls watch what they did to the first, each knowing her turn was coming? Andrea glanced over at the others, and regretted her silence. The last few days of peace weren’t so precious they were worth the shock, the terror they’d endure, now. She should have told them. Should have coached them, the way her mom and the others had coached her.

  Just a body. Just a body. Just a body.