by J. C. Fields
Several vehicles were parked on the north side of the house. All were at least ten years old. The house appeared to have been built in the seventies, but looked well maintained. A small swing set could be seen halfway between Kruger’s position and the house. It looked unused. Other than a barbecue grill and a little clutter around the yard, it looked like a typical rural home in Christian County. The family was like most folks around the area, coping with the injustices of life and just trying to survive. Bishop invading their home was just another slap in the face by the gods of chance. He started to move further north when his peripheral vision picked up movement on his right side.
Moving into the shadows of the early morning, he saw a figure dashing from the house into the woods to his right. More than likely it was Bishop moving into the grove of trees behind the Owens house, preparing to spring a trap. Smiling slightly, Kruger moved deeper into the brush and trees to hide his presence.
Minutes crept by as Kruger stayed perfectly still. His only thoughts were about Stephanie and staying silent. A rustling of leaves and a snapped tree limb were heard to his right. He did not turn his head, only his eyes tracked in the direction of the sound. The sound of dry leaves crushed under the weight of a man’s step came to his ears as he tracked the movement. In the dim light of early day, Kruger saw a shadowy figure emerge from several small trees five yards to his right. The man stood with his back to Kruger and stared at the house in the clearing.
Timing his movements to when the man was facing away, Kruger crept forward in the darkness, raising his gun from pointing down to pointing up. His eyes did not deviate from the shadowy figure now only a few feet in front of him.
As the figure started to move, Kruger lunged forward and grabbed the man’s neck with his left hand. He twisted the body around and shoved him hard against a tall oak tree only a foot from where he stood.
With his right hand, Kruger pushed his Glock into the soft tissue under the man’s chin and demanded, “Where are they?”
Bishop’s surprise only lasted a heartbeat. “Who?”
“The owners of the house.”
Smiling, the impostor stared at Kruger. “Haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”
Tilting his head to the left and then to the right, Kruger felt the muscles of his neck pop. Pressing Bishop harder against the tree, he placed his index finger inside the trigger guard. “You have five seconds to tell me where they are before I pull this trigger.”
Chuckling, Bishop stared hard into Kruger’s eyes. “You won’t pull the trigger. You’re like all the others. Weak. You won’t kill me, your conscious won’t let you.”
Kruger could feel his heart racing, and sweat dripped from his forehead even in the cool morning temperatures. His finger started to apply pressure to the trigger. He stared into Bishop’s cold eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. Stephanie’s words about not losing his soul echoed in his mind. He released the pressure, but kept his finger on the trigger.
“Why would my conscious bother me for ridding the earth of a creature such as you, Randy?”
The smile disappeared, Bishop narrowed his eyes. “You have no idea of who you’re dealing with.”
“Oh, I know.”
Bishop suddenly relaxed and he chuckled. “Do you? You think just because you have a PhD in psychology you know who I am?”
Kruger’s hand started to tremble as he fought to control his anger.
“You’re trembling, Agent. Something wrong?”
Continuing to stare at Bishop, Kruger remained quiet.
“You should have seen your ex-wife beg for her life. It was pathetic…”
“Ahhhh…” Kruger screamed as he brought his knee up with as much force as possible to strike Bishop’s groin. The air gushed out of the man’s lungs like a deflating balloon, and his eyes rolled up. Kruger released him and watched as Bishop crumbled to the ground gasping for air and holding his genitals.
Kruger stood above him and kicked the man as hard as he could in the back. Immediately regretting his action, he back off and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.
Just as he was ready to push an icon on the phone, he heard a blood curdling scream emanate from the house. Training and instinct caused him to start running toward the sound, but within seconds he stopped. Releasing his mistake, he turned back to where Bishop lay.
The man was gone.
Before he could react, an excruciating pain shot through his right arm. He dropped the Glock as he staggered to his left. Another savage blow struck him in the back, and he collapsed against a large oak tree.
Kruger’s vision blurred as he turned and put his back against the large oak tree. Holding his right arm with his left hand, he looked up.
Randolph Bishop stood there, a Glock in his hand pointed at Kruger’s head.
“You should have pulled the trigger when you had the chance, Agent.”
Kruger stared up at Bishop, but remained quiet.
“I don’t think you appreciate the situation you’re in, do you, Agent Kruger?”
“I guess I don’t, Randy. What situation am I in?”
Bishop cocked his head to the left, then the right. Kruger could hear the joints in Bishop’s neck cracking. “Actually, I really haven’t thought about it. Sometimes the goal is just to capture. What to do next is more of an afterthought.”
Kruger could tell his right arm was broken. He had no use of his right hand and could feel the swelling starting. “You won’t get out of this alive, Bishop. The area is swarming with Highway Patrol and Christian County deputies.”
“Doesn’t matter really. My objective was to kill you. In my opinion, everything else is meaningless.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Bishop suddenly got a far-away-look in his eyes, and he let the Glock fall to his side. “I’ve known all along I would die in a hail of bullets. Kind of a Bonnie and Clyde sort of thing. Did you see the movie with Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway?”
Kruger did not answer the question. He just stared at Bishop.
“The way Warren Beatty died was very cinematic. Slow motion with bullets ripping through his body. That’s how I imagine my death.”
Kruger shook his head. “This isn’t a movie, and you’re not Clyde Barrow.”
Bishop woke from his brief stupor and raised the Glock. “No, I’m not Clyde Barrow. But I’ve done something no one else has done.”
“What’s that, Randy?”
Bishop frowned, lowering the Glock again. “I’ve stopped the great Sean Kruger.”
“You haven’t done shit. All you’ve done is terrorize and murder innocent people. People who did nothing to you.”
“Well, at least I get to pay you back for all the headaches you’ve given me over the last six years. I had to live in squalor for a year in Bangkok because of you. You owe me.”
“I owe you nothing.”
Kruger’s thoughts turned to Stephanie as he stared at Bishop. The Glock was rising slowly. Time stood still as he waited for the bullet that would end his life.
Bishop’s wild smile returned. “No, I don’t suppose you think you do. But it’s time to pay up. Say good bye, Agen…”
As the Glock rose even with Kruger’s eyes, Bishop’s head disappeared in a mist of red, gray and white matter. The arm holding the Glock twisted to Bishop’s right as muscles in the now dead body constricted, pulling the trigger. A bullet struck a tree to Kruger’s left. The headless body collapsed backward into the morning dew. The echo of a high-power rifle shot reverberated off trees in the crisp morning air, masking its location.
Kruger could feel moisture on his face and realized it was probably splatter from Bishop’s demise. He felt a spasm in his back as he struggled to stand. He leaned against the tree and looked down at the lifeless body. Fearing he would not be able bend over and stand again, he kicked the Glock out of Bishop’s hand. When he looked up, he saw JR and Sandy Knoll running toward his position. Both held Remington 700s wi
th sniper scopes.
When they arrived, Knoll asked, “You okay?”
Kruger nodded. “Arm’s broke, but other than that, yeah, thanks to you.”
“I couldn’t make the shot, didn’t have the angle. JR took it.”
Kruger looked at his friend.
JR stared down at Bishop’s body. “Not sure what it says about me, but I don’t feel anything except relief.”
Placing his left hand on JR’s shoulder, Kruger’s smile was grim. “It says you’re more interested in life than death. Bishop was death.”
JR looked at Kruger, who was holding his right arm again. “You’re hurt. Let’s get you back to Joseph’s.”
Chapter 43
Springfield, MO
“Your arm has a comminuted fracture.” The ER doctor pointed to the x-ray on a light screen in the emergency room occupied by Kruger and Stephanie. “I’m not an orthopedic specialist, but I believe you’ll need surgery.”
Kruger winced, took a deep breath, and asked, “How long to recover?”
“Like I said, I’m not a specialist, but experience tells me it will be awhile.”
“And that means?”
The doctor just smiled. “They’ll be down in a few minutes to take you to surgery. Do you have a specialist you prefer?”
“No, this is my first broken bone.”
“Lucky you. The one on-call is excellent.”
With those words, the doctor parted the curtain and walked out of the room. Kruger sat on the bed, and Stephanie stood next to him. She asked, “How’s your back?”
“Just bruised. I was lucky; he could have shattered my spine.”
“What did he hit you with?”
“Fallen tree limb. Apparently it struck something before it hit me.”
She rubbed his left arm, but remained quiet.
Joseph moved the curtain back and asked, “What’s the verdict?”
Stephanie tightened her grip on Kruger’s good arm. “Shattered humorous. He’s going to surgery in a bit.”
Joseph grimaced, entered, and let the curtain fall behind him to close off the room.
Kruger asked, “What’d I miss?”
Taking a deep breath, Joseph shook his head. “Bishop executed everyone in the Owens’ house except the daughter. She was spending the night with a friend, she came home early and slipped past a couple of patrol cars watching the place. You probably heard her scream when she got home.”
Looking down at the floor, Kruger nodded. “Yeah, I heard it. I started to react to it, but realized I would be leaving Bishop alone. I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.”
“Bishop’s body was turned over to the Highway Patrol. Allen Boone told me it will be cremated, and the case closed.” Joseph paused for a few moments. “Sean, I know you don’t want to hear this, but one good thing resulted from this affair.”
Kruger looked at his friend. “What the hell could be good about all the people he murdered?”
“Sandy’s team stopped a lot of terrorists. You and JR’s discovery prevented a lot of carnage and destruction. Some of the attacks could have left hundreds dead.”
“I wish I shared your enthusiasm.” Kruger reached for Stephanie with his still-functioning left hand. She took it and squeezed.
A commotion in the hall stopped their conversation. A young nurse slid the curtain aside, a cheery smile on her face. She looked at Kruger. “Are you Sean Kruger?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Brenda, I’ll be taking you to surgery. You’ll be assigned a room after that.” She turned to Stephanie. “Are you Mrs. Kruger?”
“Yes.”
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the waiting room.”
***
Stephanie flipped through the magazine for the fourth time. She did not see or remember any of the words or pictures. Joseph sat next to her quietly watching the door leading to the surgery rooms. They were the only ones left in the waiting area, others having come and gone.
She dropped the magazine on the empty chair next to her. “What is taking so long?”
Joseph placed his hand on her arm. “It’s only been ten minutes since I checked.”
Standing, Stephanie started pacing. She looked at a wall clock. “It’s been four hours, Joseph. How long does it take?”
He was about to respond when a slender man in his mid-forties dressed in blue scrubs walked through the door next to the waiting room. He looked at Stephanie and asked, “Are you Stephanie Kruger?”
She nodded.
“I’m Doctor Morgan. Your husband’s in recovery now. He’ll be transferred to a room in about an hour. You can see him then.”
“How is he?”
The doctor did not smile. “There was substantial damage to his right humorous, and I had to rebuild it. What took the most time was finding all the bone fragments.”
Joseph stood. “What about recovery?”
“He should regain full use of his arm, but it will take time.” He smiled slightly. “He’ll probably be able to tell you when a change of weather is coming.”
Stephanie just stared at him.
The doctor finally smiled. “Go get something to eat, and by the time you return, he’ll be in a room. When you get back, ask at the nurse’s station.”
Without another word, the doctor turned and hurried back through the door behind him.
Stephanie turned to Joseph. “I’m not hungry.”
Joseph nodded.
She crossed her arms. “This is the second time Sean’s been seriously hurt on the job. The last time I almost lost him. It’s time he quit.”
Joseph did not respond.
“I’m serious, Joseph.”
“I know.”
“He has a daughter and will soon have another son. I don’t want to raise them without him.”
With a gentle smile, Joseph placed his hand on Stephanie’s shoulder. “The current President won’t be in office after this coming January. Sean may not have to worry about making the decision. It could be made for all of us.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know the two candidates running, never met them, and the current President doesn’t like either one. It could mean our program goes away.”
“What if it doesn’t?”
“Then you and Sean will have to make a decision.”
Chapter 44
Washington, D.C.
Two Months Later
Joseph and Kruger were shown into the Oval Office by the President’s Chief of Staff. President Osborne was seated at his desk looking through a file. He glanced up, smiled, stood, and walked around the desk to greet them. “Gentlemen, good to see you.”
“Thank you, Mr. President, it’s good to see you as well.” Joseph shook the offered hand and stepped aside.
The President looked at Kruger. “Your country is very grateful for your service again, Agent Kruger. You have saved more lives than any of us can imagine.” He offered his hand, and Kruger shook it with his left, his right arm still immobilized with a cast and sling.
“Thank you, sir.”
“When does that come off?” The President pointed to the cast.
“Sometime in the next few weeks. Depends on the x-rays.”
“Good. Would either of you like coffee?”
Joseph nodded. Kruger shook his head, still not comfortable drinking coffee in the Oval Office, especially with his left hand. The President went to his desk and touched a button on his phone. Almost immediately, a steward with a tray of coffee entered the room.
After a few more pleasantries, they sat across from the President. “The candidate I least wanted to win the election won, even though we’re in the same party. He won on a platform of taking secrets out of government. Everything has to be out in the open, no special projects, nothing in the shadows.” Osborne paused for a moment. “He’s a naïve fool.”
Joseph took a sip of his coffee. “So what
does that mean for our little endeavor?”
“I don’t know, Joseph. The government has numerous projects the public doesn’t know exist. Projects, I might add, that keep us safe. I hope when he takes office he will understand the need.”
Kruger spoke up. “Have you discussed any of them with him?”
“Not personally. We’ve reached out to his appointed Chief of Staff, but the reception was not… Let’s just say the response wasn’t encouraging.”
“Most disappointing.” Joseph frowned. “So, what do you want us to do?”
“I have three weeks left in office. There is a little housekeeping we need to do before then.”
Joseph remained quiet as the President paused.
“Has the man in Thailand been identified?”
Joseph gave the president a slight nod.
“Good.” The President sat back in the sofa and smoothed his tie with his hand. Looking at Joseph, he asked, “Do you have contingency plans for this individual, Joseph?”
“We have several.”
The President nodded again, but remained quiet as he looked out the window behind his desk. After several moments of silence, he turned his attention back to Joseph. “Do you remember the words I used the day the Imam from San Francisco had his fortunate accident?”
“Yes, sir. You told me, and I quote, ‘Find them, Joseph. Find them and make them go away.’”
The President nodded. “I believe this individual in Thailand is one of them.”
Joseph’s only response was a slight smile.
Kruger asked, “When you leave office, what then, sir?”
The President sighed. “For your own protection, shut it down.”
Both Joseph and Kruger did not speak.
“We can justify Agent Kruger’s activities because he’s an FBI agent. But your involvement, Joseph, could lead to embarrassing questions neither of us want to answer due to your previous employer’s identity. You’ve done too much good work. I don’t want that to happen.”
“What about Major Knoll and his men?”
“Once the individual in Thailand is dealt with, they will be retroactively assigned to the FBI. Director Stumpf signed the document this morning.”
