by L. M. Vila
“No.” She probably won’t be excited to hear this. “He was swearing.”
“Really?” Meryl sighed in dismay. “Well, shit.”
“That’s the one.”
Michael Madison cracking a joke? It seemed kind of odd all things considering. She would have believed that one back in the day but today’s Michael wasn’t as relaxed as his previous counterpart.
Reaching into his pocket, Michael pulled out his phone. This time to dial a different number.
“Call L.A.P.D.,” he said to Meryl. “Get this place locked down. Find any witnesses. Gather evidence.”
And with that, Michael pressed his phone to his ear. He was playing it surprisingly cool for someone who was nearly killed. Twice at that. For a second, Meryl thought this was just his urbane way of showing off. Now that brought back some fun memories. Meryl pulled her phone out and dialed the buttons to the police department main office. What a story she could tell to her old colleagues now.
If there’s one positive thing to say about New York City cab drivers it’s that they don’t screw around when it comes to time. Nicole silently thanked the man again as she headed towards the docked jet. Looks like she’ll be able to make it back by eight after all. This would be an interesting to explain later when she was in McCrae’s office. Nicole will have to come up with something good before he called.
Speaking of which, Nicole held the power button down on her phone, turning it back on. She dreaded checking the number of messages that had accumulated in the six hours of her absence. Filtering through her menus, surprisingly there was nothing. No voicemail, not text messages, not even a missed call.
Unusual, but positive. If no one had noticed she was gone then there was no need for explanation. However, this questions the mentality of her supervisors. How could they go all day without checking in on their staff?
Before she could tuck the phone away, it began blaring and vibrating, signaling to be answered. Maybe this was the call that she was hoping not to receive at this point. As Nicole climbed the stairs into the aircraft the caller ID informed her she dodged a bullet.
Michael?
Nicole immediately switched the phone to answer it. “Go for Nicole.”
“Ms. Wells, we’ve got a situation.”
His voice was content, straightforward, and emotionless. If something was truly wrong then he may not want present company to know about it.
“What happened?”
Michael quickly filled her in on the details. Nicole only had one thought. Donald was right. They'd kill anyone to keep a secret.
“Any IDs on the assailants?”
“Only one.”
“That’s a good start. Any plates on the getaway vehicle?”
“Negative. Only make and model.”
“Damn,” Nicole pondered for a moment how difficult it would be to find the right Toyota Avalon amongst the thousands in Los Angeles. Against her better judgment she said, “Put out an A.P.B. anyways. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“Understood.”
“Oh and Michael,” her voice dropped a bit. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
His response was calm. “I'm fine.”
“Good. Keep me updated as much as you can. I’ll be there as soon.”
“Understood.”
The voice went silent on the other end. Nicole wondered just how dangerous the situation had gotten. Her sense of duty overcame any feelings of doubt.
“How fast can you get us back to Los Angeles?” She asked the pilot as he was getting situated in the cockpit. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to ask this. Most bureaucrats think alike. Then again this specific plane was equipped to handle flights well over 600 miles per hour. The pilot was ready to answer with a smile.
“If everything goes well and we leave in the next five minutes I can get you home just before 8 p.m. local time.”
Now there was a bit of good news. She planted herself in the seat closest to the door as she said, “Great, let’s go.”
Kurtis slammed his fist into the center console, cracking the solid exterior. His arm carried a weight of anger that needed to be expunged.
“Damn her. That crazy woman. Who does she think she is?”
Seika remained silent. Apparently his way of coping with defeat was much louder than hers. Rational thinking would tell them it was time to count their losses and abort. Neither of them had a cogent state of mind at this point. Still, Seika thought it best to rethink their strategy.
This wasn’t just a regular failure, it was an immense one. They couldn’t even kill two unprotected government agents. Kurtis only proved his incompetence. The General would not like to hear the results. Another verbal lashing is not what he would like to come home to. His patience with that man’s temper wore thin with each passing day.
“What should we do now?” Seika finally spoke. She wasn’t giving orders today. Lucky for her. Kurtis was ready to vent some well built aggression.
“What we do is dump this tin bucket for a new ride.”
A good idea. Anyone there could have made those plates. Traffic cameras could have captured them fleeing as well. They couldn’t be seen driving this vehicle for long.
“And then what?”
Seika persisted. An admirable quality. Maybe he’d kill her quickly when the time came.
“Then we regroup and go after them again. I’m not ready to give up, are you?” His anger increased. Finally, they were finding a common ground.
“Of course not,” her grip tightened. Showing anger was a sign of weakness. There was no way she was going to let this mishap consume her thoughts. Continuing the mission was all that mattered. Driven on money, fueled by vengeance.
Fifteen minutes had passed since Meryl made the call and the L.A.P.D. had the area completely surrounded. Michael was somewhat impressed. He imagined something akin to a circus display and chickens venturing around searching for their heads. Concerning a few, those heads were located in disgusting orifices. Chaos was expected yet it felt like poetic harmony. Apparently word traveled quickly. It’s not every day an FBI agent faces an attempted assassination.
“Michael!” Called Meryl from amidst the masses. He moved to face her. She came running up with paper in hand. There was a lot of scribbling. Typical for her style of note taking.
“Any luck?”
“Nothing too solid. No witnesses saw the sniper ascend or descend the building. They were able to pull prints off the case and are running them through the system now. Can’t say the same for the knives they found on your car and on the ground. They were completely clean. No word on the vehicle but every squad in the thirty mile radius will be stopping every black Toyota Avalon they find.”
“Good.”
Very good actually. Meryl was certainly getting the hang of her job relatively quickly. Perhaps she was better suited for this line work rather than a simple police officer. As was Michael.
“Oh, and the detectives just arrived. They wanted to talk to you.”
Michael peered behind Meryl. Two men in leather jackets stood near his car with cigarettes in hand. Another popular habit that annoyed him.
“I’ll be right there.”
Meryl nodded. “Okay. Anything else that we should check out?”
“No. Pack up the case and load it in the car,” Michael tossed her the keys which she easily caught. “We’ll be leaving shortly.”
“Will do.”
Before Meryl took off, she peered at the tears in his suit. They didn’t seem that bad but traces of blood seeping from the wounds' origin drew cause for concern. She began to worry.
“What about that cut on your shoulder? Should we get a medic?”
Michael picked up his right hand and placed it over the gash on his left shoulder. It was dry. His clothing must have absorbed any trickles of blood. Wasn’t as bad as he initially thought. Probably rattled his nerves more than anything else. Nowhere near as painful as it would have been had that knife hit its intended mark.
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“Only a scratch.”
He was playing tough guy again or maybe it wasn't really that bad. She walked back to the car without skipping a beat. Michael didn’t wonder what questions the detectives wanted to ask. Nor did he care. If there weren’t any suitable witnesses then they would have to wait for the prints. No need to waste any time here. Michael would placate their questions. As long as they were brief.
During his approach, Michael thought he recognized one of the men. His short figure and growing grey hair was the signature trademark of a detective he knew when he first started. The kind of guy that stepped on the new officers and tried to play by his own rules. A horrible attitude and a smoker to boot. Michael definitely knew this man which made this process increasingly difficult.
“Agent Madison?” He said while sticking out his cigarette-less hand for a shake. Michael obliged make sure to squeeze a bit harder than normal. The look on his face as he attempted to hide his cringe was worth it.
“Detective Samuels.”
“Oh, so you remember me, eh?”
His trademark cockiness was unwarranted. Time would certainly slow down for this conversation. “And this here is Detective Miller,” he said while waving his cigarette in the direction of the other man. This one was taller, much better kempt that the other. Looked like he was fresh. Maybe one or two months after passing his exam. Samuels did all the work.
“We just wanted to ask you a few questions. First off, what was your business out here anyways?”
“Classified.”
“Classified? You’re not exactly CIA are you Agent Madison? We’re all on the same team here pal. Why don’t you just answer the question?”
Stubborn and ill-mannered as usual. “Following a lead.”
“Alright. And these guys that attacked you. Do you know any of them? Or was this a first time?”
Michael knew it was best not to tell them anything. This was his case. His responsibility. His past. They would just get in his way.
“Never seen them before.”
“Anything else you could tell us that might help us out a bit?”
Meryl slammed the trunk of his car and the okay signal. They were ready to go. At least he had an excuse to exit. No one could accuse him of being uncooperative. There was nothing else left to say.
“No.” Michael headed towards the driver side door of his car and opened it. “We have to go.”
“Alright, alright. I can take a hint.”
Apparently the detective muttered something else after Michael slammed the door shut. It was of no importance. This one case has opened up a part of Michael’s past he didn’t believe he would relive anytime soon.
“Michael,” Meryl softly spoke. She sounded concerned. “What do we do now?”
The only logical thing was to go back and search for more information about the company they were supposed to investigate. Though, Michael couldn’t get that woman out of his mind. She fought with such obsession. Whoever hired her knew Michael was coming. That means that someone in the department had leaked information. This case just became immensely more dangerous.
Michael almost forgot Meryl was waiting for an answer. He formulated the best one he could without giving too much away.
“We’ll regroup back at the office. Double-check the data we’ve gathered.” He froze for a moment. Meryl must not take his words too lightly. “Be careful who you talk to.”
“Why would you say that?” She almost wanted to laugh. Meryl wasn’t sure what he meant. Michael hadn’t been straightforward with all of the information he’s gathered.
“There’s a mole.”
Traffic was normally a painful hindrance. As luck should have it, Kurtis ventured north on a winding and yet desolate road named Colima. Cars were few and far between and not a single trace of civilization stretched for miles. Too much time had passed already. This spot was perfect.
Kurtis pulled the car over. Seika gave him a puzzling glare.
“What are you doing?”
“Shut up and follow my lead.” His anger lingered heavily.
Once the car had come to a complete stop, Kurtis exited. Seika followed shortly. The car faced a ditch. Varying between twenty to thirty feet in depth. An excellent spot. He moved over towards the back of the vehicle.
“Use one of your knives and scratch off the VIN number,” he ordered.
Seika was confused at first but as soon as he said that it made his intentions clear. She was completely on board. Using a throwing blade sheathed into her pocket she macerated the numbers on the dashboard to an unrecognizable degree.
In the back, Kurtis palmed one of the license plates and ripped it from the back of the car with one swift move. He moved to the front of the vehicle and performed the same feat. If they had an issue tracking their vehicle before, Kurtis had now blinded them even further.
He entered the driver’s seat and kept the door open. Kurtis motioned to Seika, “We need a new vehicle. Flag someone down.”
“And how do you expect me to do that?” Her cynicism was expected but not appreciated. The answer was obvious.
“You’re a woman. Shake your ass or something.”
If there’s one thing she hated most in this life it was being looked down upon. Male, female, it is of no importance. As long as the job gets done. Unfortunately in truth, with his sick and demented mind, Kurtis was right. With the few amount of cars passing by, it wouldn’t be difficult to find one lonely drone willing to help a damsel in distress.
The engine of the car roared. Kurtis punched the throttle and the vehicle jumped to his command. It headed straight for the ditch. He jumped out of the vehicle. There was plenty of momentum left over to send it crashing. The door slammed against a tree, tearing it off its hinge. Steel met the earth will an unbridled fury. Both airbags deployed, marking their arrival with a booming detonation. The vehicle bounced and tumbled across the ditch, slowing to a stop on its side. Kurtis dusted himself off as he got up. Looking up at Seika showed that she wasn’t amused. Sloppy but effective would be a fitting title.
“What are you looking at?” His menacing tone signaled the urgency required. Kurtis moved towards a nearby tree. Traces of dirt and twigs still scattered amongst his clothes. “We need a car. Now!”
Seika peered away from him. A vehicle approached. The first in the past few minutes. Seika realized it was time for her share of the work. She lowered the zipper of her outfit and stood near the end of the road with her arms crossed. The weather was breezy but not too chilly. Still, she cupped her breasts between her arms making them appear larger. Cleavage was a great selling point. So many men fell to her blade while admiring her assets.
A silver sports car stopped almost exactly where they had parked before. The owner was either a wealthy prick, or just wanted everyone to think he was. As he stepped out of the vehicle, designer sunglasses hung proudly over his smug brow. The suit he wore seemed even flashier than his vehicle. This may be the real deal.
“Hey there,” he pulled his glasses off and tucked them into the jacket’s front pocket. Even his tone was haughty. “Having a bit of car trouble?”
“Yes,” Seika replied. She pointed to the fallen vehicle below. The wreckage nearly made his stomach turn.
“Ouch,” he didn’t even sound concerned. “Are you alright?” His eyes fixated all over her body. He could tell there wasn’t anything wrong. She was perfect from that sexy little head of hers to that tight little ass all the way down to her well rounded toes. He was going to enjoy helping this one out.
Arms wrapped around the man’s throat. Kurtis pulled him back and drove a sharp knee straight into his spine. The load crack signaled a clean breakage. Gasps and cries exited the man’s throat. Kurtis wrapped his arm over it and gripped it tightly. He slammed the man’s neck back in a vain attempt to have his head touch his freshly broken back. Another puff of air exited his breath and slumped lifeless in Kurtis’ arms.
“Don’t just stand there, grab the keys
,” he barked while waving the victim’s inert body.
Seika was starting to regret this current partnership. He was just like the rest of the men out there. Not even worthy of showing emotion towards. She reached into the man’s pockets and fished out his request.
“There,” gesturing them with the clacking of tiny metals.
“Good.” Kurtis blasted the corpse with a solid kick between the shoulder blades. The body fidgeted and contorted with the help of gravity into the dense crust of the earth. Every twist sent another snapping sound that tickled Kurtis’ ears. He enjoyed hearing that more than anything.
“Let’s go.” He moved to the passenger side door. “You drive.”
Kurtis wasn’t big on words. He was still salivating over the kill. A much needed stress reliever. As he opened the passenger side door he heard the sound of another vehicle speeding nearby. Kurtis focused his attention towards it. The black and white car signaled trouble. Especially when it was topped with a meaty strip of red and blue lights.
“We’ve got company.”
The car slowed down. It pulled ahead of the couple and stopped shortly afterwards. An officer came out. He was tall and thin. Just a typical cop checking out a nonthreatening scene. That is, unless he peered out to the edge of the road. Seika made sure to watch his eyes. And give him something nice to look at.
“Is there a problem here?” The officer asked. His approach was slow and radio was well kept in his hand. He wasn’t reaching for a weapon. So far so good.
“No problem officer. We were just changing drivers.” Kurtis’ accent was bold. This might cause trouble. Cops were inquisitive by nature. If he knew what was good for them, he would quit while he was ahead.
“That’s a pretty thick dialect you got there. What brings you around here?”
Big mistake.
“Sightseeing.”
“Oh yea, where you heading?” He was persisting.
“Hollywood.”
The officer was within striking distance now. He began examining the car. It was a beautiful color. Silver shined reflecting the image of the glorious sun. The officer peered up at Seika. She couldn’t even force a smile. Not even to waiver doubt.
