by J. M. LeDuc
“I could have dealt with all the mistakes I made up to that point and still have come out unscathed. My next action made all that impossible.”
Maddie found herself holding her breath in anticipation. In the time she had known Brent, she’d never witnessed a chink in his armor. He was a soldier’s soldier. What set him apart was his spirit. It was his spirit that drew others to him.
Brent looked up at a picture on the wall of Seven and Maddie. Seeing his friend and mentor made him think back to days past.
Late one night, early in training, before the Phantom Squad had been formed, Brent was outside the barracks pacing the grounds.
“Ain’t it past yer bedtime, professor?”
Seven’s voice, although not loud, pierced the early morning quiet causing Brent to snap his neck around like an animal being stalked. “Damn, you scared me. Do enjoy sneaking up on people?”
“There were three things wrong with that statement,” Seven said.
Brent watched as he pulled out his dip can and packed his lower lip full of tobacco.
“The first was the attitude. I don’t care if you can’t sleep, have a tummy ache or if you’re constipated. Talk to me like that again and you’ll be walking back to whatever base you were previously assigned.” Without taking his eyes off of Brent, he spit tobacco juice passed Brent’s right ear. If Brent had flinched an iota, he’d be wearing it.
“Second,” he said, stepping closer, “I didn’t sneak up on you. Your mind was just too preoccupied on other things. That’s a fault that will get you killed and one that we’re going to have to fix if you’re going to make it through this course.“Third, and the real issue is your emotion.”
“My emotion?” Brent said.
“You’re wound up tighter than anyone I have ever known and when that happens the strings begin to fray and sooner or later they snap. When they snap, all that pent-up emotion becomes misplaced and that, professor, will get you and everyone else killed.”
“But…”
“There ain’t no buts, soldier, just mistakes and death. Now, git some sleep. In less than three hours we begin to change the way that educated mind thinks.”
Brent stopped staring at the photo and brought his thoughts back into the present. “I had let my emotions control my thought process. I’d felt so bad about Charlotte’s humiliation of being naked, that I took the time to find her blouse in order to cover her. I didn’t notice that Jonas reached up and grabbed the pot off the flame. I heard him scream and caught sight of him in my peripheral vision. I could see that he was about to throw the entire pot of oil on Charlotte. It was his last-ditch effort before he passed out.
“Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around Charlotte, covering her body with mine. The pain from the boiling oil caused me to go into shock. The next thing I remember, I woke up in the hospital three days later.”
Maddie was speechless. Eyes closed, she leaned back in her chair. She wiped at tears that slid down her face.
A few seconds later, Brent broke the silence, bringing the conversation back to the present. “So,” he said, “from past experience, we know Jonas is a man of patterns, and we know he is vulnerable to his emotions. We just need to find out what makes him tick, then play off of that.”
Maddie straightened up and cleared her throat. “What do you suggest?”
“I’m hoping Dr. Osgood’s notes will shed light on his frailties. In the meantime, let’s send two teams of agents to Dreamland Penitentiary. Have them gather as much information and evidence as possible. I want them to bring everything back here, no matter how insignificant it may seem.”
“They were deployed the moment I returned to my office after our meeting,”
Maddie said. “I’ll notify them of your instructions. You and I and the rest of the team will meet tonight to discuss our next step. Before we break, would you mind if I asked you a personal question?”
“No secrets. Remember?” Brent said.
Maddie thought back to their first meeting as colleagues. She’d asked Brent to trust her and he’d answered that trust exists only and if there are no secrets between them.
“Fair enough,” she said. “Everything you just told me about that day. Have you told Chloe?”
“Not all of it.”
“Why not?”
“With her it’s different. She’s not only part of the Alliance, she’s also my wife. If she has too much information, she’ll become skittish, overprotective. That will get us both killed. And besides—she hasn’t asked. Without ever having said as much, she understands that too much information about that day wouldn’t be healthy.”
Maddie nodded her agreement.
“As long as we’re being personal,” Brent said, “I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Anything. What is it?”
“Joan had it pretty rough in there today. What was discussed today I know, for a fact, hasn’t spoken about since the day I brought her to Palm Cove. She’s not accustomed to having anyone know about her past and I’m a little worried about her. She has a great deal of respect and admiration for you.”
Maddie stared down at her desk. She didn’t like where the conversation was going.
“I noticed there were holes in your story when you were discussing your vision.”
Maddie snapped her head up. Her stare looked as it could burn a hole through him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame you for keeping out some of the details. They’re no-one’s business, but if she knew what all you’ve had to endure, I think she’d open up and be able to get rid of the toxic waste she carries around.”
Maddie lowered her head and gently shook it from side to side. She, like Joan didn’t like talking about her past and Brent’s suggestion made her uncomfortable.
“I don’t know, Brent. If I see an opening, I’ll try. But I can’t promise anything. That part of my life isn’t one I like to talk, or even think, about. The old Maddie was an entirely different person.”
“Was she? Maybe it would help both of you get rid of some waste.”
He got up to leave before she could respond. He gave her a little peck on the cheek, then headed for the door.
CHAPTER 8
Jonas slid the bus driver’s limp body off the seat, then dragged him down the aisle. The bus was parked behind what appeared to be an abandoned garage, the Last Chance Auto Repair. Jonas couldn’t tell if it was an active business; busted-out windows were replaced by plywood and the neon sign no longer lit up.
Jonas realized that an overzealous guard at Dreamland could have stumbled across the good doctor’s body earlier rather than later. If that happened, searchers would be on the lookout for a man wearing scrubs, so he had removed his clothes and changed into the driver’s. His plans didn’t call for him to stick around in Last Chance, Nevada, but since there was no immediate threat he decided to have a look around. He grabbed the driver’s hat and nonchalantly exited the bus for a walk down the town’s main street.
When he spotted an open diner, he decided to treat himself to a home-cooked meal while he waited for the town’s clothing stores to open at 10:00 a.m. He took a seat at the counter and buried his head in the morning newspaper.
“Good morning. Can I git you a cup of coffee?”
Jonas looked up from the paper into the face of the first female he’d seen in seven years. It didn’t matter that she was a bit plain for his tastes. Just the sight of a young female made his flesh tingle.
Running his tongue over his dry lips, he said. “Well, good morning to you, Sunshine. You certainly can.”
Jonas’ apparent innocence was disarming to the young waitress. His boyish looks were one of his strongest weapons. They caused girls to lower their defenses.
“Would you like cream and sugar with your coffee?” said the bubbly blond.
“Just your hands h
olding the cup will make it sweet enough.”
She giggled as she went to fill the order. Jonas’ eyes undressed her and assessed her. B and B, he thought; all boobs and butt. The image he had conjured for himself made him want her, desperately. How I’d love to hear her beg for mercy and scream from exquisite pain. She looks like every other trollop who needs to be taught a lesson. A sinner whose ample flesh needs to be cleansed.
The waitress set down the cup of coffee and noted a difference in her customer’s demeanor. He no longer appeared the innocent young man she had spoken to thirty seconds earlier.
“So, Becky,” he addressed her after reading her nametag, “how about some breakfast?”
“Sure,” she said, her smile weak. “What would you like? My dad can cook just about anything, so have whatever you like.”
Jonas let his eyes roam slowly from her face to her chest. Hanging around her neck was a cross, its bottom sitting in the top of her cleavage. The sight of the cross infuriated him. He had to concentrate to keep his rage under control. Hypocrite, he thought, just like all the others.
Snapping his mind back to the present, Jonas lifted his eyes from her breasts to her face. Feigning a smile, he said, “That’s a loaded statement, now isn’t it?” He liked watching her react to his brazenness. “For now, I’ll have your two egg breakfast.”
A shiver traveled Becky’s spine. She walked away quickly, on the pretext of putting in his order.
While he ate, Jonas thought of all the ways he could lure Becky back to the bus where he intended to ‘purify’ her flesh. Then The Dark One spoke to him. This is no longer your destiny, my son. You must stay on purpose. There will be time enough for pleasantries later.
But father, it’s been so long, and she is so ripe for the picking.
“I SAID NO.” The Dark One growled. The voice so loud, Jonas dropped his fork and pushed the palms of his hands against his ears trying to stop the explosion of sound. The clamor of the fork dropping onto his plate caused everyone in the diner to look to his direction.
Jonas knew if he stayed in the diner, he would likely be unable to control his urges when he looked at Becky. He quickly finished eating and walked to the cash register to pay the tab. He removed the wallet from his back pocket and with caution covered the picture on the license. He couldn’t risk anyone seeing a photo that wasn’t him.
“Come again,” Becky said.
Jonas just half smiled, afraid that anything he would say might give him away and walked into the morning sunshine.
It was 8:20 when he strolled past Grey’s Haberdashery. A sign hanging from the door informed customers that they opened at 10:00 a.m. Jonas spotted a woman working inside.
He waved to get her attention. When she came to the door, he asked through the door if he could come in. She unlocked the door and told him the store wasn’t officially open but if he didn’t mind the mess, he was welcome to shop.
Jonas looked around the store. He found the clothing he was looking for, and picked up a hat and a bottle of dark foundation makeup. The cashier gave him a funny look as she rang up his purchases.
“Costume party,” he explained. He thanked her for her kindness, and left the store.
He headed for the bus. Much to his surprise, he saw people milling about the garage. It wasn’t an abandoned business, after all.
When he was sure no one was looking, he made a beeline for the restroom located on the opposite side of the building. He changed out of the uniform and into his new purchase; clothes he was much more comfortable wearing. For the first time in seven years, Jonas McFarland felt like himself. He slipped his feet into new shoes. Even his aunt would have approved of how he was dressed.
The bus stop in front of the garage had a glassed-in waiting area. A marquee inside announced, “Vegas Shuttle.” Jonas had stumbled into a ready-made, unexpected getaway. Fifteen minutes later, he and six others boarded the bus headed for Sin City. It was 9:00 a.m.
CHAPTER 9
By the time the lights of the Vegas strip came into view, the passengers were noisier and restless.
“How much longer?” came a voice from the rear of the bus.
“We’ll be pulling into the Las Vegas Bus Terminal in ten minutes,” the driver said. “Please stay in your seats.”
Jonas looked around. He saw the others’ excitement grow when they heard the announcement. Fools, all of them, he thought. They’re shallow and short-sighted.
So true, my son, spoke his inner voice. This is why they must be destroyed. All that is, will cease to exist. I will create a new utopia that will be greater than that which they call heaven.
How, Dark One?
It will unfold one step at a time, The Dark One said. You need only to know when to take the next step.
Jonas’ thought process was broken by the squeal of the brakes as the bus pulled into the depot.
“Please stay in your seats until the doors are open and exit in an orderly fashion. The shuttle will leave the station at exactly 1:00 a.m. If you’re not on time, you’ll have a 24-hour wait before the next bus takes you home. Good luck in Vegas.”
Let’s see what Sin City has to offer, Jonas thought as he stepped from the bus.
Checking out his options, he decided to take a shuttle to one of the lesser-known casinos just off the strip.
He stood in front of the Best Bet Hotel and Casino and inhaled deeply. Honking cars and loud voices made him flush with excitement.
Stepping inside the casino, cigarette and cigar smoke mixed with the sweet, musky odor of perfume and cologne. The blend was intoxicating to the murderous escapee. Jonas walked around the casino. Filled with the freedom to do as he wished, his gait turned to a saunter. Everywhere he turned, the kaleidoscope of colors dazzled him.
In contrast, the house he grew up in, his aunt’s house, had been stark white, just like his cell and every other surface at Dreamland. Aunt Peg had drilled into his head that white was the color of purity, and by degrees, every other color was a shade of impurity. To her, the brighter, more vibrant the color, the bigger the sin attached to it. By her standards, the bright neon lights and gaudy chromatic colors made this a den of sin.
I could stay in this town forever and never be able to cleanse it of all the sinners, he told himself. The corner of his mouth turned upward and his eye started to twitch. A malicious smile crossed his face as thoughts of cleansing flooded his perverted mind.
His twisted smile faded when he heard a woman scream. It wasn’t agonizing and pain-induced. That would have made him happy. This noise was instinctive, brought on by luck and good fortune.
Jonas quickly found the source of the scream. A petite, fortyish bleach blonde stood in front of a slot machine. She jumped for joy, straining her gown’s spaghetti straps each time her voluptuous bust returned to the confines of her brassiere.
Coins poured onto the floor. As each new pile poured on old ones, she issued a new scream. Casino security quickly cordoned off the area, in an effort to protect the lucky winner.
Jonas’ flesh tingled and perspiration dripped as he watched the spectacle unfold.
Hatred welled in his heart, so strong, he had no choice but to act on it. It wasn’t her excitement that angered him, nor was it the fact she was poured into a too-tight, too-skimpy, too-pink dress. No, he could have controlled his emotions if that was all he saw.
After all, he had spent a large part of his life picking ‘sinners’ out of a crowd.
What angered him to the breaking point was the crucifix he saw hanging between her heaving breasts. With every jubilant jump, the cross became more visible until it was the only thing Jonas saw. Aunt Peg was right. She’s a sinner trying to hide behind that cross. The fact that she was one of ‘them’ was all the reason he needed not to walk away. She must be cleansed.
Jonas pushed himself away from the crowd. He had to clear his
head and devise a plan. He thought back to his past abductions, those for which he was found guilty and those the authorities knew nothing about. Others may have missed his slight outward smile, but on the inside he beamed as images of innocence taken and tortuous pain filled his mind.
Sitting at the bar, Jonas watched the action take place through the liquor-lined full length mirror.
“What can I get you?” the bartender said. Not getting an answer, he asked again, “Hello, excuse me, what can I get you to drink?”
Jonas, the hunter, briefly took his eyes off his prey. “Nothing, thank you. I’m just waiting for a friend.”
“House rules say you can’t sit here unless you’re drinking. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave the bar area.”
Unwilling to be thrown out and lose the perfect location for keeping an eye on his next victim, he said, “In that case, bring me a bottle of champagne and two glasses, please.”
“Which?”
“Which what?”
“Champagne. Which champagne would you like?”
“Dom,” he answered without removing his gaze from the mirror.
The casino manager pushed through the crowd to meet and congratulate the winner. He counted out nineteen thousand dollars, in one-hundred dollar bills, and presented them to her. For every thousand, he yelled out the amount.
The lady in the pink dress squealed with excitement. Twenty minutes later, the manager excused himself and activity returned to a normal pace.
Jonas could see the letdown on the lady in pink’s face. The big win was history and she was, once more, all by herself. He recognized the look as a window of opportunity. Quickly, he poured champagne into two glasses and approached her.
“You look like you could use a drink,” he said. “May I interest you in a glass of champagne?”
A smile as wide as her hips spread across her collagen laden lips. “I would love one, thank you. My throat is a bit dry after all that excitement.” She lifted the glass to her mouth, licked her lips in anticipation, and took a healthy sip. “Mmm, this tastes wonderful.”
