Assassin In My Bed

by Samantha Cade

  Dr. Wensel smirks. She picks up a straw, and slips it into the soup. She offers the bowl to Zane again.

  “Drink,” she repeats.

  Zane doesn’t want to do anything she says, but the smell of the soup makes him realize how hungry he is. He’s starving, actually. He wraps his lips around the straw and sucks deeply. As the warm broth travels to his stomach, it gives him a jolt of energy. Soon, the bowl is empty.

  Dr. Wensel goes about checking Zane’s bandages and the IV’s in his arm. Zane’s stomach rumbles as the soup settles uneasily. He looks to the left, and sees a black body bag. The chair that Grace was strapped to is empty. He clenches his teeth, growling lowly. If only he could rip these straps away, he’d make Dr. Wensel pay for her sins.

  Dr. Wensel notices Zane looking at the body bag, and gives a short chortle.

  “You let her suffer,” Zane says.

  Dr. Wensel remains silent.

  “You took an oath to help people,” Zane repeats. Dr. Wensel refuses to acknowledge him. Zane glances at the glittering necklace around her neck. “Nice diamonds.”

  Dr. Wensel presses sharply into his side, right where his gunshot wound is. Zane writhes in pain.

  “Oops,” Dr. Wensel says, sarcastically. “Get down from your high horse. You’re no better than me, Mr. Assassin.”

  Zane’s first instinct is to react to this accusation with violence. But since he’s tied down, he’s left to process the insecurities that bubble up. Has he really changed much since his days of flashy living, all paid for by resting on his laurels? Maybe he’s calmed down some, but he still accepted a paycheck for taking another person’s life.

  But Penny changed all that. Zane doesn’t care about the money, not anymore. And he won’t to do VC Solutions’ dirty work, or anyone else’s. His days of killing for glory and money are over.

  That is, if he makes it out of this alive.

  The door creeks open. Vincent enters the room. Zane notices that Vincent looks older in this bright lighting. His skin is weathered, gray, and nearly translucent. His shocking white hair is wiry and disheveled.

  “The jet is ready for loading,” Vincent announces. “Make sure our patient is ready for his trip.”

  “Yes, sir,” Dr. Wensel says.

  Vincent plants his hands on his knees, bending down to look at Zane. “You’re awake. How are you feeling, there, sport?”

  Zane’s nostrils flare. “Where are you taking me?”

  Vincent straightens his back and puffs out his chest. “There’s a wonderful opportunity for you in Kuwait. Have you ever worked on an oil rig? No? I’m sure you’ll learn quickly.”

  “I can’t just disappear,” Zane says.

  Vincent shakes his head. “Sure you can. Who will miss you? Your mother?” Vincent’s face melts into a menacing grimace. “We’ll take care of her.”

  “You cunt,” Zane barks. Pure rage compels him to fight against his restraints. He bares his teeth, the taste for blood rousing something primal inside of him. But it’s no use. The straps keep his arms where they are.

  Vincent just laughs. Zane makes himself calm down. He’s starting to feel woozy, and his gunshot wound is starting to bleed again. He’ll have to save his energy. This white haired asshole won’t get away with threatening Zane’s mother. Zane feels a question rise in his throat. He hesitates to ask, because he’s afraid to hear the answer.

  “Where’s Penny?” Zane asks, forcefully.

  Vincent lowers his head, then lays his hand on Zane’s shoulder. “Penny’s dead. Jacob did the job you couldn’t.”

  Zane goes silent, forcing down the tumultuous emotions inside of him. It’s possible Vincent is lying just to break Zane down. It’s also possible that Vincent’s telling the truth. A deep abyss of despair opens up inside of Zane. I failed you, he offers Penny, telepathically.

  Dr. Wensel prepares Zane by unhooking him from the heart monitor and adjusting his IV’s. Soon, Zane’s being wheeled out of the room on the hospital gurney, through the dark hallways of the basement, and out into the glaring sun. The wheels of the gurney glide smoothly across the asphalt runway. A jet idles in the distance.

  Vincent walks beside the gurney, shielding his eyes from the sun.

  “Mr. Celick, I wish you luck on your new venture. Bon voyage.” Vincent extends his hand for Zane to shake. Zane eyes him coldly. Vincent grasps Zane’s restrained hand and shakes it anyway.

  Someone’s cell phone dings. Vincent digs in his pocket and pulls out his phone. When he looks at the screen, his face transforms into grotesque anger.

  “Fucking Jacob,” Vincent screams. He gestures wildly to the plane. “Keep going. Get him on there.”

  *

  Penny crouches in the woods, holding the phone in her hand. She ditched the car about a half mile from the road that leads to the compound, then had crept through the forest to avoid the security checkpoints. From her vantage point, she can see a jet idling on an asphalt landing pad. Beyond that, a man is being wheeled on a hospital gurney to the plane. Penny knew in an instant that it was Zane lying there. And he’s alive. Dead men don’t have use for IV’s. Her fingers had flown over the screen of Jacob’s phone to text Vincent Connor.

  It was a picture of the flash drive, with the question, How much is this worth to you?

  After hitting send, Penny had witnessed Vincent’s epic meltdown. Currently, Vincent is pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. He keeps looking at the sky and taking deep breaths, but he can’t seem to calm himself.

  Penny would laugh at him if she wasn’t so enraptured with the fact that Zane is still alive. Just like with Ben, Penny would’ve known if Zane was dead. She would’ve felt a piece of herself missing.

  When Vincent finally stops pacing, Penny gets ready. She holds the cell phone in front of her with both hands, like it’s a sword. It starts to ring. Vincent’s name flashes across the screen.

  Penny swipes it open. Before she can say anything, Vincent starts to lay into her, or rather, Jacob, since that’s who Vincent thinks is on the other end. She holds the speaker at a safe distance from her ear as Vincent lambasts her.

  “You slimy snake, fucking trailer trash,” Vincent rails. “You think that you can blackmail me? I tell you what, son, you’ve got another thing coming. I’ll hire someone to drown you, just like you did that little girl. Well, what do you think of that?”

  Vincent huffs into the phone, waiting for a response. Penny presses the phone against her ear, gathering herself.

  “Are you done?” Penny asks calmly. She can almost hear Vincent’s shock on the other end. “That’s right,” she continues, her voice smooth with satisfaction. “I’m not your little lackey.”

  “You bitch,” Vincent growls.

  “Jesus, Vinny, I got to say, you’ve been a really naughty boy,” Penny says. She’s really enjoying having Vincent Connor over a barrel. She takes the flash drive out of her pocket and fiddles with it. “There’s so much fucked up stuff on this flash drive. I can’t sort through it all. That’s why I’m going to send it to Wikileaks.”

  Vincent pauses, rubbing his red face with his swollen hand. Zane’s gurney is pushed up the runway, up the platform, and into the jet. Vincent relaxes his shoulders, straightening his tie.

  “How much?” Vincent asks. His voice is low, ashamed, like he’s just been castrated.

  “Let Zane go,” Penny answers quickly.

  Vincent’s head jerks up. He looks around. “Is this a joke?” Vincent asks, with genuine confusion. “I just handed you a blank check with your name on it.”

  “I don’t want your money. I have the files on Jacob’s phone, ready to upload to Wikileaks.” Penny is bluffing. The flash drive is the only copy she has of the files. Em Dash had warned her about making copies, saving the files on computers, or uploading them to the internet, as those activities could be traced. “I just need to press one button,” Penny says, hardening her voice. “Let Zane go.”

  “Ha!”

  Penny
immediately freezes. The sharp laughter didn’t come from the phone, it came from behind her. Any confidence she felt drains to her feet. She stares straight ahead as Zane is loaded onto the jet. A second later, Jacob’s fingers latch onto to her wrist, his grip so hard she drops the phone. Jacob jerks her up while yanking the gun out of her back pocket. He hooks his forearm around Penny’s neck, pinning her against him.

  In the distance, Vincent is shouting into the phone. His voice can be heard where they are in the woods. Jacob’s arm tightens around Penny’s throat as he bends to get the phone, choking her momentarily.

  “I’ve got her, boss,” Jacob says.

  “Fucking finally, Jacob,” Vincent says.

  “Do you want me to kill her?” Jacob asks. “I can shoot her now.”

  “Bring her to me,” Vincent says. “But before you do anything, destroy that flash drive.”

  The flash drive!

  In her panic, Penny had forgotten all about it. She frantically searches around her. The flash drive is lying in a pile of leaves by her feet. Jacob sees it at the same times as she does. Unfortunately, he’s in a better position to retrieve it than she is.

  Jacob stomps on the flash drive, splintering it into tiny pieces. If Jacob wasn’t holding her so tightly, Penny would’ve dropped to her knees and sobbed. How will she ever find Ben now? How will she ever get the evidence she needs to hold VC Solutions accountable?

  Penny feels the tip of the gun press against the small of her back.

  “Walk,” Jacob says cruelly in her ear.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The interior of the jet is posh and comfortable. The seats are furnished in premium leather. There’s a bar towards the back, mahogany, with a counter of black onyx. Bottles of liquor and champagne are displayed on the wall behind it.

  Zane’s gurney is wheeled up the platform, and situated in the middle of the cabin. The idling engine of the jet fills his ears with a vibrating hum. Dr. Wensel silently sets up his IV bags. From Zane’s position, he can see inside the cockpit. It’s manned by a single pilot, an incredibly ordinary looking man. He’s in his later fifties, with gray hair around his temples. With a gentle smile on his face, he flips switches and presses buttons.

  Zane can hear Vincent outside, ranting and raving about something. His voice cuts through the hum of the engine. Zane closes his eyes, concentrating on what Vincent is saying. He can’t make out much, but he hears Vincent shout the word bitch a few times.

  Something hardens inside of Zane. Bitch. That’s a vulgarity reserved for women. Vincent isn’t talking to Jacob.

  And who’s the baddest bitch Zane knows?

  Penny.

  A deep inner smile spreads inside of Zane. His heart beats fiercely, filling him with energy, and making him forget his pain. He has to get out of here. He can’t let this plane take off with him on it. Then he’ll never find his way back to Penny.

  If it wasn’t for these fucking straps, Zane thinks. If he were free, he’d use his strength to rip through the plane, throwing aside anyone who stood in his way. But he can’t use brute force to solve his problem, not this time. He’ll have to find another way.

  “Preparing for takeoff,” the pilot says. He looks back at the cabin to Dr. Wensel with a cheerful smile. “Is our guest all set?”

  Dr. Wensel looks over Zane one last time. “Yes, Captain.”

  The pilot turns to Zane. “Enjoy your flight.”

  The pilot’s casual mannerisms light a fire of rage at the base of Zane’s skull. His pulse speeds up, making him sweat. The steady beeping of one of the machines begins to race. Dr. Wensel looks wildly at the monitor.

  “Hold on, Captain,” Dr. Wensel says, holding up her hand. “He’s having a blood pressure spike.”

  “Okey-dokey,” the pilot says.

  Dr. Wensel leans over Zane, staring at his pupils. “Are you feeling okay?” she asks.

  In an instant, Zane realizes his chance for escape. He clamps his teeth together, closes his eyes, and hurls his body around on the gurney.

  “Zane,” Dr. Wensel shouts. “Zane, can you hear me?”

  Zane twists his torso, lashing his head around.

  “He’s having a seizure,” Dr. Wensel says. She grabs the IV bag, and injects something into it. Zane makes sure to twist his arm, so the needle painfully falls out of his skin. Dr. Wensel goes to re-insert the needle. Zane twists his arm beneath the strap, not letting her.

  With a huff of of frustration, Dr. Wensel calls for the pilot to come help her. She instructs the pilot to hold Zane’s arm still while she unfastens the strap.

  “I’ll do my best,” the pilot says. He seems apprehensive to touch Zane’s violently seizing arm. Zane allows him to slip both hands around Zane’s wrist. The pilot’s grip is weak.

  As soon as the strap slips away from Zane’s arm, he hurls his fist up, cocking the pilot just under the chin. The pilot stumbles back, his arms flailing. Zane roars as he winds his large arm back, then pulls it in forcefully, catching Dr. Wensel’s neck in the crook of his elbow. She struggles against him, trying to elbow his torso and claw his eyes out. Zane pours all of his strength into that arm, not letting go.

  “I’ll snap her neck,” Zane spits at the pilot. Heat rages in Zane’s chest, making his breath heavy.

  The pilot holds his hands up defensively, erratically nodding his head. “Okay, okay,” the pilot says. “No need to get crazy.”

  “Undo the rest of these straps,” Zane roars. He realizes how crazed and terrified he looks by the petrified look on the pilot’s face.

  “Yes, sir,” the pilot says, approaching Zane slowly. “Easy there, big guy,” he says in a soothing voice. “I’m going to untie your other arm now.”

  “Don’t,” Dr. Wensel gasps.

  Zane tightens his arm around her neck, shutting her up. “Do you feel that?” Zane whispers to the doctor. “That’s your trachea beginning to crush.”

  Dr. Wensel goes still against him, whimpering. The pilot frees Zane’s arm. Zane doesn’t wait for the pilot to untie the rest of the straps, Zane does that himself with one arm. The other arm stays around Dr. Wensel’s neck. Zane stands slowly from the gurney, ignoring the woozy feeling in his head. His arm is like steel around Dr. Wensel. He forces her to stand with him.

  “Are you armed?” Zane asks the pilot.

  The pilot blinks wildly, stammering in confusion. “I-I think so.”

  Zane takes a step towards him. “You think so?”

  The pilot grapples at his ankle. “They make me carry it. I’ve never used it before.” He produces a snub-nosed pistol. “Here,” he says, handing it to Zane with his finger on the trigger, and the business end pointing right at Zane’s chest.

  Zane snatches it the pilot’s hand. “Here’s a tip. Don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you intend to shoot. Which you should have done.”

  With that, Zane hurls Dr. Wensel across the cabin. She smashes into the luxurious leather seats. Zane points the gun at the pilot. The pilot lifts his hands in the air, trembling violently.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” Zane says tells him. “I’m going to get off of this plane, and then you’re going to take off.” He takes a few steps forward, shoving the pistol into the side of the pilot’s neck. “Got it?”

  The pilot’s mouth moves silently. After a couple of tries, he finally chokes out, “G-g-got it.”

  *

  There’s a horrible smell is this dank, dark basement. Jacob pushes Penny along narrow hallways before swiping his keycard on a panel and opening a door to a room. He pushes Penny inside. It looks like some nightmarish hospital. There’s medical equipment and hospitals beds, but the lack of light is ominous. Also, the stench from the hallway is greatly intensified. The smell is heavy and oppressive. It’s the most disgusting thing Penny’s ever experience. She clutches her churning stomach, gagging and choking.

  Jacob pushes her into a chair, then straps her arms and legs to it. Once she’s restrained, Jacob walk
s to the other side of the room and stands beside a black body bag laid out on a hospital gurney. That’s where the smell is coming from.

  Is that Zane? a scared voice inside of her asks. Penny starts to shake. She can feel the tears mounting behind her eyes.

  Jacob gives her a coy smirk. “Do you want to meet your friend, Em Dash?”

  It feels like a punch to the gut. Em Dash is in there. He always said he was ready to die for the cause, but Penny can’t help but feel like this is her fault. Jacob grasps the zipper at the head.

  “Get ready for the big reveal,” Jacob says, exuberantly.

  Penny wants to close her eyes, but she makes herself look. She owes that to Em Dash. It’s the least she can do. Jacob slides the zipper down, then parts the thick, black folds. Penny gasps when she sees Em Dash is a woman. Despite the swelling of her face, Penny can see that she’s young, and rather attractive.

  “Get this,” Jacob says. “She married Vincent Connor. Now that takes commitment.” Jacob zips the bag back up, then leans forward, his elbows resting on the body. “Still pretty pathetic, though.”

  Now that Penny can put a face to this horrifying stench, the urge to vomit overcomes her. She doubles over, straining against the straps, gagging. She’s vaguely aware of someone else entering the room. When she sees his white hair, she knows exactly who it is. It’s Vincent Connor himself.

  “Can we get that out of here?” Vincent commands, sweeping into the room. “It smells fucking awful.”

  “Yes, boss,” Jacob says, jumping into action. He goes to an intercom mounted on the wall, and presses the button. “We need body removal, stat.”

  After what seems like mere seconds, two men wearing white body suits enter the room. Their heads are covered with a mask and goggles, but Penny recognizes one of them. She’d know those dreadlocks from anywhere.

  Hunter and the other man wheel the body out of the room. Penny glares at Hunter as he passes by her, but he pretends not to notice her.