by Laura Acton
David Plouffe collapsed into a chair. His brother orchestrated the death of a lieutenant colonel for a promotion? He tried to kill General Broderick years ago, too? How could he be related to someone that vile?
Mary Tillman spoke into the silence. “Thank goodness Dad isn’t alive to hear this and Mom doesn’t remember us anymore. If she did, then she would be heartbroken. I knew you were evil ever since you were ten and deliberately killed that cat. No one believed me … but they do now.”
Nigel turned to his younger sister. “I should’ve snapped your little neck that day instead of the cat’s.”
Mary gasped and stepped back into the waiting arms of her husband. Kirby Tillman glared at his brother-in-law. “You come anywhere near my wife, and you will regret it.”
Nigel sniggered. “Oh, you scare me sniveling flower boy. You gonna threaten me with pansies? See me quaking in my boot. Piss off. I could take you all out, and you’d never see it coming.”
Shocked by Plouffe’s unstable and candid behavior, William said, “You sent those photos to me. Why hurt Daniel if you hated me so much? He is innocent. You even said so in your last note.”
Turning his attention from Mary and Kirby back to the general, Plouffe’s lips drew back in a snarl. “He is your soft spot. I used him to hurt you. I wanted to make you suffer and what better way than breaking your boy. So blind to everything that went on right under your nose. You’re not fit to be a general. You didn’t realize what went on with your own son.”
Plouffe stopped to laugh as his eyes lit with malevolence. “I succeeded for six years. Maybe one day you’ll figure out what HB stands for. Gonna make you cry when you do. I’ll give you a hint. I turned him into a stone-cold killer. He never missed. You trained him so well. He was so easy to control, always followed orders. He was the perfect toy soldier.
“I even arranged things so he hated you and blamed you for everything. Now he is gonna die, and there’s nothing you can do about it. He should’ve died so many times. Still don’t know how he survived, especially those three months of torture. I heard what they did to him. What they did with the needles and whips were the best. That hurt you badly.
“Your boy is so disfigured. His chest and back are permanent reminders you failed to protect your son. Oh, wait … he’s not going to live much longer—might be dead already. Armor-piercing rounds are so useful. See I’m better at planning than you. Going into the courtyard is a deviation of your protection plan. And like Grasett, the deviation from your original plan got someone killed. It was so easy to lure him out there—so simple.”
Brad and Dave both turned to each other with their mouths gaping open. They weren’t the only ones. The mouths of half the people hung open in utter disbelief, uncertain whether or not to believe what transpired right in front of their eyes.
Tammy Middles walked up to the major and slapped him across the face as hard as she could. Anger and hurt played across her face, “You’re a vile, despicable man, you set me up. You told me to take Dan to a private area. You said it would be too painful for him to talk to me in front of others. You put Aaron’s child in jeopardy. You may have killed an honorable man.” She pointed to the pool of Dan’s blood on the floor. “I loathe you. You will never have contact with Aaron’s son.”
Aghast, onlookers wondered how much uglier this would become.
Tammy turned and headed for General Broderick with fresh tears running down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry for any part I had in hurting Dan and you.” She sobbed in earnest.
William reached for Tammy’s hand and pulled the young woman to him and down into a one-armed hug whispering soothing words. Everyone looked on as he comforted her and shooed the medics away again.
Tammy clung to the general. He was so strong like her father had been. She lifted her head and wiped her eyes. “I genuinely hope Dan makes it.”
“My son is strong, resilient, and has survived many times when the odds stacked against him. He will fight hard.” William reassured her.
Tammy rose and wobbled as a wave of dizziness swept over her. Duncan lowered his weapon, reached out, and caught the woman as she fainted. As Duncan carefully lowered her to the ground.
Brad and Dave rushed to the pregnant woman. Duncan stood and backed up making room for the medics. As he focused on the nice-looking woman, Duncan hoped the stress of this didn’t hurt her baby.
Claudia Middles cried out, “Tammy!” and raced to her daughter.
Genevieve Plouffe and Mary Tillman also rushed forward to Tammy.
William instructed the medics, “Take her to the hospital. She and the baby are a greater priority than me.”
Brad gaped at the general in disbelief. “Sir, you’ve lost a significant amount of blood. We need to take you to the hospital, too.”
Nigel snorted. “Trying to be all badass just like your son. You’re an old man now. Maybe if you stay a while longer, you can bleed out and join your toy soldier in Hell today.”
Everyone had been so focused on Tammy and the general they didn’t notice the major freed himself from the cuffs. Seizing his opportunity, the major grabbed the sidearm from the holster of the distracted Duncan and leveled it at the general’s head.
Winds rapidly drew his sidearm and pointed it at Plouffe as Angus, Hal, Duncan, and Russ raised their assault rifles and directed them at the major.
People scrambled as far away as possible.
William calmly stared down the barrel of the gun. “You can shoot me, but you will be the one dispatched to Hell. I suggest you lower the gun before my men send you on your way.”
Winds ignored the words—he wouldn’t allow them to distract his focus. He watched Plouffe diligently looking for the smallest twitch. He wouldn’t allow him to fire at the general. Plouffe hurt the Brodericks too much already. There was no way Plouffe was killing the general today.
David Plouffe couldn’t take any more. He yelled at his brother, “You’re a despicable person. You hurt innocent people because of some grandiose delusion of being a general, a shooting contest, and perceived put downs.
“How could you ever conceive of and do those things? I’m so ashamed you’re related to me. I can’t begin to comprehend how you could do this. It nauseates me—we share the same blood.” Emotionally drained, David sank into a chair.
Nigel became red-faced and angry as David spoke. He turned the gun on his brother. “I should send you to Hell, too. Always thought you were better than me. I’m a Special Forces major, and you’re nothing but a wimpy high school English teacher.”
David froze, his brother wanted to kill him. He saw it in his eyes. “Nigel, if you ever loved me … put down the gun,” he said as his voice shook.
Nigel laughed. “Never loved you, older brother. Resented you, loathed you, but never once did I love you.”
Frank Hudson found his opening when the gun lowered slightly. He launched himself at the major knocking the gun out of his hand. They went down hard, and immediately the rest of Delta Team piled on to subdue and restrain the major who resisted with all his might.
Winds and the soldiers maintained their weapons aimed at Plouffe and ready to fire if necessary. Duncan promptly retrieved his handgun from the floor. He was kicking himself for being distracted enough to allow the major to seize his weapon. Blaze would be so disappointed in him. Hell, he was disappointed in himself.
Once Delta Team re-cuffed the major they stood and left Plouffe lying on the floor on his stomach.
William scanned the men of the TRF and directed his comment to Frank. “Nice takedown.”
Frank shrugged. “He left himself open and distracted. A little something Dan taught me when we sparred.”
At that comment, William slumped in the chair as his pain, both physical and emotional crashed over his head.
Shock set in as David discovered he still lived. “Thank you. He would’ve killed me.” Then David scrutinized his younger brother who had gone limp and quiet with a far-away look in his eyes. So si
ck and twisted. My brother has done so much harm for no reason.
David gazed at the general and with genuine sorrow said, “I’m sorry he did those things. He’s sick. I didn’t realize how sick. Nobody knew how sick. One father to another, I sincerely hope your son makes it, and you do not have to endure the torture of losing a child.” He closed his eyes trying to block out all his grief.
William said, “I understand your anguish. I lost my sweet Sara when she was only seven. With time the intense grief diminishes some. Keep the best parts of your son close to your heart, and he will never truly be gone.”
David opened his eyes. He only nodded.
The medics finished strapping Tammy on the gurney. As Dave pushed her towards the door, Brad stopped at the general’s side. “Sir, we will take the young woman on the gurney, but I want you to come in the ambulance, too.”
Winds holstered his weapon and turned to General Broderick. “Sir, it’s time for you to go. The men will handle Plouffe until the MPs arrive. You need to be taken care of now. Do it for Blondie if not for yourself. When he pulls through, he’s gonna need you.”
William realized they spoke the truth, tried to rise, but found his strength faded with the adrenaline rush now gone.
Brad and Winds instantly reached for him. They supported most of the general’s weight as they assisted him to the ambulance waiting outside.
Winds gave orders over his shoulder before exiting. “Hal and Duncan, stay and handle everything with the MPs and the police. After you hand over Plouffe, join me at the hospital. Angus, Russ, follow the ambulance to the hospital. Pletcher is still unaccounted for and who knows if Plouffe has other things in the works.”
Hal said, “Roger,” and the men moved to comply with Winds’ orders.
Tammy’s mother followed the medics out and got into the passenger side of the ambulance not wanting to leave her daughter.
As the church doors closed behind the paramedics and their charges a dark and oppressive silence filled the room. Witnesses to the unholy climax of Aaron’s funeral stood rooted in place trying to understand what happened. Many struggled to grasp the evil that lived in Nigel Plouffe.
Dylan Plouffe was the first to move and speak. He began a solemn and heartfelt prayer seeking strength in their time of trial, to renew their spirits, and to protect and heal Tammy and the Broderick’s with divine love and light.
David Plouffe picked up where his son left off and lead the family in the Lord’s Prayer. When he finished, Genevieve Plouffe and Mary Tillman began to sing “Amazing Grace” and were joined by nearly everyone in the room whether they believed in God or not.
During the prayers and song, Nigel Plouffe closed his eyes and plotted how he would get out of this. Perhaps he could plead insanity … might work. He now realized he opened his mouth and admitted to some things—damned Broderick made him lose control.
But they still couldn’t court martial him for most of it. Grasett and Elkins—would be hard to prove because no evidence existed. Also, no evidence would be found for his treason or the other murders he arranged.
An annoying thought slipped in as he contemplated what to do. Broderick would be relentless now—especially if the toy soldier died. Broderick would manufacture evidence against him. With that thought, Plouffe’s mind shifted from how to defend himself to how to escape. He focused on that element alone as his family prayed to a non-existent God.
Collecting Bobbleheads
16
July 19
Marksmen Enterprises – Stairwell 19th Floor – 4:45 p.m.
Corporal Cody Merrill took his time packing up his rifle. “Hehehe, I had fun. Wish I got a headshot, though,” Merrill said as he talked to himself. He stopped as he reached the nineteenth floor of Marksmen Enterprises and relished reliving the shot once more. “Oh, the shock on his face.” He giggled. “They never see it coming. Well, I wouldn’t be any good if they did.”
Merrill did a quirky little jig and skipped down a few steps of the stairwell. “Hehe hehe, I do so love my hobby. Love my happy walk, too. Love to relive the shot with each floor down. Nineteen floors to go. Gonna take this one slow and enjoy. No one ever knows where to look for me.
“Let’s see … this is my nineteenth bobblehead.” Cody stopped and looked at the big number 19 painted on the door of the stairwell. “Well, will wonders never cease? What fun! My nineteenth bobblehead on the nineteenth of July taken at nineteen after the hour.” A strange little laugh escaped.
“But this one isn’t really a bobblehead. Would’ve made it more fun.” Cody mulled over his previous thought about popping off Plouffe. “Plouffe, I’ve reconsidered … we do have a gentlemen’s agreement after all. You keep up your end of the bargain … I’ll keep up mine and let you live. But if you don’t, your bobblehead will be mine for the collecting.”
Cody hung his head as a little sadness crept in. “Sorry, General Badass, no pro bono today—though you deserve it after what Plouffe’s done to you. Hope you recover speedily from Murphy’s idiot shot.”
Rechecking his watch, he groaned. This took longer than he thought. Now he would be late getting to the office. He pulled out his phone and dialed. When it was answered, Cody calmly said, “Hey, Jordan, Merrill here. Remember, I told you I was making a special trip to a hobby shop?”
Private Tina Jordan sighed. “Yeah. Why?” She had an inkling of why Cody was calling. He was often late when he engaged in his hobby—whatever that was. Damn, she had plans tonight.
“Running late. Lost track of time while at the hobby shop. Can you cover for me? I’ll be about two maybe three hours late. Please, I’ll make it up to you.”
“Two or three hours! Merrill, I’m getting real tired of covering for you. Before I say yes or no, you need to tell me what this hobby of yours is that is so important you lose track of time,” Jordan said, totally miffed he was asking her to once again cover for him because he was running late.
“What’s my hobby? It’s kinda lame, you wouldn’t be interested.”
Jordan drummed her fingers angrily on the desk. “Try me. You owe me at least that much for always covering for you.”
“Okay, okay. Calm down, Jordan. I collect unique bobbleheads.”
Tina snorted loudly, drawing the attention of the others in the office. She snickered. “Geez, Merrill that is so lame. A grown man collecting dolls.”
Cody bristled for a moment, but then laughed because it was a great cover story. No one would ever suspect him of his real hobby. With humor, he said, “I told you it was lame. But you’d be surprised how much fun it is popping the bobbleheads off. Great stress reliever. Sorry, I’m gonna be late. I’ll make it up to you. Cover a few shifts so you can go out with what’s his name.”
Slightly assuaged thinking about Cody covering for her so she could date Gary, she asked, “Did you at least find what you were going for?”
“Sadly, no. Wanted to collect a blond one today, didn’t quite get it.”
Tina replied, “Ah, that’s a shame. I had plans tonight with Gary. So I’ll be holding you to covering a few shifts to make up for it. And this is the last time I’m covering for you. Your hobby will have to wait … cause if the general ever finds out how often I’ve covered for you, we’ll both be in trouble.”
Cody smirked. Jordon would transfer out before the general ever caught on—they all did. Then he would begin again with whoever replaced Jordan. Making sure his voice came out sounding friendly, Cody said, “Thanks, Jordan. I shouldn’t be more than three hours late. You’re a life saver.”
“Hey, where are you that you will be that late?” Tina asked.
Thinking quickly, Cody answered, “A hobby shop in North Bay. It’s about four hours away. With any luck, the traffic will be light, and I’ll arrive a little before nine. Then you can have a later date with what’s his name.”
Tina drummed her fingers again. “His name’s Gary. You better make it by nine.” She hung up and sighed. She couldn’t wait to transfer an
d wondered how the general put up with Merrill for so many years.
Merrill did a little jig then resumed his happy walk. He thought, no one will ever suspect I’m an assassin for hire and they will never find my position.
Marksmen Enterprises – Outside – 4:48 p.m.
The patrol units silently sealed the thirty story Marksmen Enterprises building within two minutes of them identifying the location. When a TRF SUV arrived, first on scene patrol officer Jean-Luc Fouquet rushed to it. Jean-Luc instantly recognized the tall, bald TRF constable. He looked as pissed off today as he did just over a year ago when the Barton brothers escaped the bank robbery.
Jean-Luc wasn’t sure what was going on but rapidly reported, “No one has come out. The security guard inside says most of the building left early in the afternoon for a large company picnic. Only a few remaining employees are left inside and two security guards.”
Jon, Blaze, and Lexa arrived in record time. Jon received the information and directed, “Keep your men in place. No one is to go in or out. We’re searching for a sniper who shot an officer. So if your guys see anyone with a bag which looks like a rifle—you notify me immediately. We want him alive so no dumbass moves.”
“Yes, sir,” Jean-Luc said as he reeled inside. An officer was shot? He would keep that to himself, some of his buddies might get trigger happy knowing the sniper wounded a cop. He rushed off as he radioed the other officers guarding the entrances to the building.
Jon turned back to Lexa and Blaze. He saw the fire in both their eyes and uttered, “We are not judge and jury. We follow protocol. We apprehend this subject and let the courts do their job.”
Hyper-focused on the job, Lexa let her eyes answer Jon. She sealed all thoughts of Dan tightly away for the moment. There would be time to deal with that later. For now, she had to arrest the person who shot him—and to do that, she needed to be all professional.
Blaze clenched his jaw. Reluctantly he agreed. This is Jon’s area of operation, and he would go by his rules and commands. Though if it were up to him, he would put a bullet between the snake’s eyes—just like he did to the terrorists, they eliminated over the years. He pulled out his phone and said, “I need to inform Colonel Sutton the general has been shot. He is in command and needs to be aware it.”
