EVO Universe 1: The First

by Kipjo Ewers

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  About two miles off from the extraction point; Mark stood chopping at the bit ready to go. The second he saw the ominous black Sikorsky helicopter flying overhead he knew who it was; the pieces to the puzzle came into place revealing a very dark and terrifying tale that basically said the Constitution and Bill of Rights combined were no longer worth the ink and paper they were written on.

  He could not allow that to happen, not on his watch, not after all he sacrificed. An unsettled Dustin watched as his partner looked like a linebacker with a roid case waiting for his coach to send him in. King however had him; Mercer and the rest of his agents stand down while he tried to speak on the phone with his own boss Director Stan Miller.

  “What are we doing? What are we doing?! They are going taking her away! They’re going taking her away goddammit!” yelled a frantic Mark Armitage.

  King ignored him listening solely to the man in command on the other end of his phone, “Yes sir…yes sir…I understand sir…it will be done…yes sir.”

  King closed his phone with a grim look on his face that made Mark want to vomit on the spot, because he knew what he was going to say.

  “Orders are to stand down, fugitive has been captured,” commanded Director King, “Sophia Dennison is no longer our problem…”

  Orders that threw Mark into an unsuspecting rage, “No! No! No! This is bullshit! Who are they Doug?! Who the hell are they?!”

  “I said this is over!” King yelled fiercely.

  “She’s a United States citizen with rights!” Mark yelled back not believing this type of injustice was happening.

  “I don’t know what she is! But she is no longer our problem…” it was King’s final warning to end this conversation.

  Mark would not end it getting in his face, “Fuck you! It’s not over!”

  “Someone get this son of a bitch out of my face!” yelled King on the verge of firing or slugging Mark on the spot.

  “Move me Doug! You goddamn coward! You…” Before Mark could finish his third insult possibly laced with a slew of vulgarity, three agents grabbed him pulling him out of King’s face.

  It forced Dustin to step in pulling and slugging the agents off his partner. He grabbed Mark who lunged at King.

  “Mark stop! You gotta stop man!” a bigger and stronger Dustin yelled pulling him away.

  “Get him out of here before I take his badge Dustin!” King issued his final warning.

  “You fucking coward! Our badges are worthless if we let them take her! They’re fucking worthless!” Mark screamed at the top of his lungs fighting to get free of his friend’s grip.

  Mark continued to struggle until he heard the whirl of the helicopter once again, making his heart sink. The fight was taken out of him as he looked up to see the Director’s helicopter take off into the air, taking Sophia god knows where never to be seen again, it was at that moment Mark reached his breaking point.

  “Get off me Dustin…get off me…I said get off of me!!” Mark exploded breaking away from his friend.

  His head was buried deep within his chest; his heart had not just sunk it was so heavy it felt like it was never going to come out from his gut ever again. He turned to walk away.

  “Where you going man?” Dustin asked throwing his hands up.

  “I’m going home…” Mark quietly replied.

  Dustin ran up to him trying to understand his outburst, “Mark, talk to me man! Don’t just…”

  “I wanna go home Dustin!!” Mark shot back screaming to be alone; “I haven’t been home in almost seven days…and I want to go home…I just want to go home…”

  Mark walked off heading to his vehicle ripping off his vest as he flew open the door, chucked it into the back seat, and sped off as Dustin tried to catch up with him, not even thinking about how his partner and friend was going to get home.

  He drove in a daze; his mind filtering everything that went on for the past several days. In a blink of an eye, Mark had seen that the world around him had truly gone insane; and the person he had been chasing for the past six days was truly the sanest person in this now crazed world. It made him drive faster; never in his life did he want to go home so badly.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  He pulled up to the small Victorian style home; quickly getting out locking up his vehicle not even thinking about his vest which he was either supposed to take inside with him or lock up in the back of his vehicle. He even ignored the piled up mail filling his mailbox; he just wanted to get inside his house as he fumbled around with his keys finally unlocking the door so he could be still and away from the world.

  He thought it would take it away, being inside his house would take away that bad feeling that was working its way down to his bones, but it did not. The quietness only amplified what he felt to nauseating levels. He marched over to his bar to pour himself a drink. He poured a glass of Bourbon almost to the rim and went to take a sip; a taste he used to savor at the end of the day with a good cigar was like battery acid to him with a side of ass officially putting him in a state of rage as he threw the drink across the room.

  “Goddammit!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.

  The feeling was now in his bones, as he thought about what Dennison said before she walked away from him; that he was the last nice person she believed she would ever speak to, Armitage looked around his house painfully realizing how empty and lonely it was. On the mantle of his fireplace was a picture frame with a photocopy of his divorce papers; poor taste of a joke as it sat next to other pictures that outlined his life. Pictures of his ex-wife Michelle long since gone, and of their twins Annie and Penny; Mark walked over to the mantle, now holding the picture clutching his heart, fighting back the tears as he remembered why the words hit him so hard. He was not a nice person.

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  Eight years prior to this, there was life in his house; the regular life expected of a family of four. Back then Armitage did care about moving up the ranks; he had just made Special Agent in Charge and very much wanted to be either Executive Assistant Director or Director one day, which meant taking on high profile cases and working some late hours. Sometimes it also meant missing occasions and family events. Other times it meant forgetting not to bring your work home with you. It did not bother Michelle at first; she was a former elementary school teacher who decided to be a stay at home mom when the twins were born. It was the usual understanding that he was working hard to provide for them all. She could take a missed or forgotten anniversary or birthday here or there.

  Like everything in life things change, especially when children begin to get older. Penny was more like him; a little rough around the edges for a girl, very loud and active who was into sports like baseball and martial arts; she wanted a pellet gun when she was ten just so she had a gun just like him, while Annie was more like her mother; quiet, soft, and very book smart.

  So it was only natural when one who was so much like her father became disappointed when he started to miss her games and track meets on a habitual basis, while one was disappointed she got very little of his attention at all. As any mother would react, it was okay if he was doing it to her; she chose to love and stay married to him despite his faults and for the better or worst deal; it was a completely different story when he did it to her own flesh and blood. Michelle knew Mark was a good man who loved her and the children in his own way, the reason she fought with him was to save him from possibly making the biggest mistake of his life.

  Sometimes he would sit and take it, give a mutter of an apology and in his eyes a justifiable explanation, sometimes he would bite back, howling and preaching the importance of his work in order to keep monsters off the streets. How it took time and some sacrifice, and how no one complained when his success spelled promotions, which meant better living for all.

  Michelle would always make sure to interject somewhere in the argument, usually in the end, “You’re going to regret not being here.”<
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  He would always end it walking out the bedroom to his daughters’ room mustering up some apology while giving them a lighter version of his explanation.

  They would say it was okay, and they understood; he would then do something the next day to make it up to them; taking them shopping, to the zoo or movie; one time he screwed up so bad he had to fork out for Disney World.

  Eventually, children grow up, and the, “It’s okay daddy” turned into “Whatever dad.” Gifts and trips began to lose their luster, and the time does come that they do not have time for you. Armitage got a taste of what he dished out over the years, and he did not like it at all. In his best efforts, he tried to spin around the Earth turning back time. It only worked in the movies. He had to weather the storm he knew that he brought on himself, it was not easy; but eventually it did ease, and sunlight poked holes through the dark clouds over him. The hand of trust once again extended to him, and he reached out for it one morning during breakfast.

  “Oh Penny, remember I have that job interview for that teacher’s position at the Dunbar High School this afternoon so you’re going to have to take the bus to your karate class,” reminded her mother.

  “Ma…its Tae Kwon Do…,” corrected Penny rolling her eyes.

  “You know what I mean…,” she said making another pancake.

  “I can skip out of my science club and go with you,” offered Annie, “Then mom doesn’t have to double back to pick us both up.”

  “Or…you can go to your club…I can pick Penny up,” said their father out of nowhere, “Wait for her, then pick you up and all three of us can get some ice cream for dessert tonight, come home and help your mom make dinner.”

  The female trio of the house looked at Mark like he was the elephant in the room, not just because of what he offered, but because he rarely spoke during morning breakfast anymore other than to say “Good Morning,” “I love you,” “Study Hard,” and “Goodbye” sometimes with a kiss depending on his mood.

  “What?” shrugged Mark, “I’m a Special Agent in Charge, Dustin can carry my workload for half the day; the man owes me his first born for all the favors I do for him. It’s not a problem.”

  “Mark, you don’t have to…” it was a light gesture for him to opt out, Michelle actually wanted him to.

  “Yeah dad, it’s…” chimed in Penny.

  Her persistent father cut her off, “Dude, I haven’t been to one of your classes in like ages…be nice to see if you’re now tougher than your old man…”

  Another awkward moment dropped on the table as Penny cocked an eyebrow, “Did you just call me “dude?”

  “Yeah he did…” Annie smiled in disbelief.

  “Ain’t that the term now?” he shrugged acting cool, “Or is it dudette or shortie?”

  “How about none of those terms…” Penny waved begging her father to stop.

  Laughter and banter was back at the table; it had been lost since the girls entered their pre-teens. Mark looked up to see Michelle with a smile on her face, a small breath of relief. She saw her family coming back, and it made her happy.

  2:30 PM, Penny was where she was supposed to be; but Mark was not. There was a break early that morning in the Eduardo Mendoza case, the head of an up and coming Brazilian Cartel known for trafficking weapons, drugs, white slavery, prostitution, and the extortion of minors. A business meeting carried out by one of Mendoza’s high lieutenants with a foreign diplomat from Somalia for a deal on black market firearms, and drugs to finance their ongoing civil war had gone down that day and they were there with a team to finally make the collar and bring the lieutenant in. Mark decided to sit in on the interrogation, forgetting that his daughter was waiting for him.

  At 2:45 PM, a senior in Penny’s high school Matthew Anderson, who also went to her dojo saw her, and offered her a ride. She would take it, seeing her chance to catch a ride with her long time crush, an excellent opportunity to muster some courage and see if he possibly liked her. Before she drove off, she would borrow his cellphone to call her father, Mark not recognizing the number would not pick up continuing his interrogation sending it to voicemail forcing her to leave a message.

  “Daddy, I know you must be busy,” she whispered, “It’s okay I forgive you…this guy from my class Matthew offered to drive me so I’m going with him. When you finish what you’re doing, you can pick me up, we can still come back and get Annie, and we’ll just keep this a secret between us. Love you Daddy.”

  Penny would drive off with Anderson in his Ford Mustang GT. After getting six blocks Matthew, having the green light and driving within the speed limit would have his car broadsided on the passenger side by Austin Campbell going sixty miles per hour in a twenty-five speed limit, a 38-year-old stockbroker with a habit for afternoon cocktails with a side of cocaine, and three DWIs already under his belt. Matthew’s car would flip over eight times before coming to a stop, despite wearing seatbelts and an airbag; Penny died instantly, while Matthew Anderson died on his way to the hospital; Austin Campbell would survive with only six stitches to his skull; his blood alcohol level was 0.21.

  Mark would get Penny’s message at 3:05 PM after he had finished his interrogation and acquired cooperation of Mendoza’s lieutenant in obtaining key shipment locations for his contraband, in exchange for not spending the rest of his life in a Federal maximum prison. An agent would tell him the news at 3:07 PM.

  He would go home to a sobbing distraught wife who would hug him tightly as he walked through the door a destroyed man. Annie would not go near him. A week later they would bury Penny, her Sensei would give them the brown belt she was working so hard for at her funeral.

  Michelle would never blame him for what happen; never ask him why he never showed up at the time he promised to show up to pick their daughter up. She got the job working at the high school. Annie would stop talking to him all together. Life would supposedly go on like this for six months as Mark did the only thing he could do; throw himself deeper into his work to hide. The later he came home, the less he had to see their faces, and know that he failed them.

  Until one night he walked into a dark house, noticed things were missing but there was no forced entry. Annie’s room was bare. He walked into the bedroom with everything there except Michelle’s belongings; on the bed were divorce papers and a note that read, “My daughter is dead, and now my husband is dead. Annie and I cannot live in a tomb.”

  He did not bother looking for them, he did send an agent to do him a favor and make sure they were safe. Michelle had rented a two-bedroom apartment for them on the other side of town.

  He sat on the papers for at least a month before signing them. He waited at the high school one day as she walked out. She was a bit stunned to see him walk up; a bit fearful he would make a scene for her just walking out on him.

  He just handed her the papers, saying three words, “Are you okay?”

  “Yes…I am,” she said nodding.

  “Is Annie okay?” he looked around not making eye contact with her.

  “Yes…” she nodded again trying to make eye contact with him.

  Mark looked down at the ground, shook his head and said, “Take care of yourself.”

  He walked off leaving her standing here. It was not clear if he thought she would run after him; screaming, crying, and slapping him for acting the way he was acting, for closing up, shutting down, killing Penny, but she did not, and that was the last he saw of her or Annie.

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  Mark looked at his copy of the divorce papers in the picture frame and a rage came over him.

  “Stupid…Stupid fucking old man! Stupid!” He grabbed the frame smashing it to pieces against the mantle of the fireplace sending glass flying everywhere, before throwing it across the room. He should have been there; he should have fought for what really mattered. He should have clawed, kicked, and hollered, begged if he had too. As he stood there he made a decision that would probably change his world forever, but he did
not care anymore. He reached into his pocket pulling out his phone, and dialed a number he never called before. It would ring a couple of times before going to voicemail.