by S. E. Meyer
“Yeah, kind of strange, it's like we have a high-profile case here,” the officer on Lonewolf's left replied.
“Murderer!” someone yelled out from the crowd.
“Terrorist!” a man on their left shouted.
Anna noticed that the crowd spilled out into the street and a mob closed in behind them. More people screamed and hollered insults in between looking down at their phones. Several people pointed up off to Anna's left.
Anna shook her head.
What the hell is going on?
She squinted in the direction the crowd was pointing to see a large paint billboard spread out across a six-story apartment building.
Anna sucked in a breath.
The massive screen was split into two sections. One was showing a live feed of the street, while the other was displaying clips of historical footage. The crowd chanted as a video played of the explosion from a few weeks ago when Anna first met the Lonewolf. She picked up her pace to get closer to him.
“What is going on?” she asked, arriving at Lonewolf's side.
“Do you hear what the crowd is saying?”
Turning her head to one side, Anna strained to hear the words.
“Anna! Anna! Anna!” the crowd chanted.
Anna wrinkled her brow. “Why are they chanting my name?”
“Look at the screen.”
Anna noticed scrolling text on the bottom of the live feed. 'Agent Anna Wool captures the dangerous terrorist named The Lonewolf.
The chant grew louder as more people poured into the street.
“Anna! Anna! Anna!”
“I don't understand. Who is doing this?”
“You see that small message in the video screen’s corner?”
Anna studied the display as they passed by the screen. 'This is a HackerJax Production', she read.
Anna's cheeks flushed. “Jax? Jax is doing this? Why? Won‘t Cornelius find out what's going on?”
“No, he won't. Not right away. It was a test Anna. We wanted to see if Jax could hack into the system, and take control, in a particular radius of the city. This information is being broadcast to a ten block area. It's on every billboard, television, cell phone, tablet and radio. Jax is making you a hero Anna.” Lonewolf smiled. “We needed to know if Jax could accomplish this. It's an important part of our plans.” Lonewolf laughed. “He did it. Jax did it!”
Anna caught her name being shouted. It was hard to make out over the noise, but she was almost positive it was Charlie. She scanned the crowd, straining to hear her partner yelling her name over the rowdy mob.
She could see the top of Charlie’s head pop up from behind the crowd as he jumped and yelled out her name in tandem.
There you are.
“Don't worry about Charlie right now Anna. You have a task to do. Make sure I get through those gates,” Lonewolf said, nodding towards the wall that continued to grow on the horizon as they neared the end of the street.
Anna bit her lip while trying to keep an eye on Charlie's progress. As she stretched her neck, she saw Charlie made it to the middle of the crowd and was moving closer. He was holding up his badge and forcing people out of the way. After walking several more yards, Charlie burst through the crowd on Anna's right and trotted up beside her. “Damn this crowd. It's a circus out here today,” he panted. “I have to tell you something Anna.”
“Shut up, Charlie!” Lonewolf said.
The officer on Lonewolf's right jabbed him in the ribs. “You don't get to bark out orders!”
“Anna,” Charlie continued, “That man is-”
Lonewolf cut him off. “Don't do it Charlie. Not now!”
“That man is Atticus Johnson!” Charlie yelled over the noise of the crowd.
◆◆◆
The thick fog on the inside of the Cadillac's windows turned to slivers of water. Damarion watched each droplet zigzag its way down to the window seal, revealing the outline of Governor's mansion in blurry streaks. As the minutes passed his phone slipped from his sweaty palm and dropped to the seat. The gentle thump stirred him from his thoughts. He snatched the phone off the white leather and ran his left hand through his hair.
I have to do this. It's the only way, he thought.
Damarion sifted through his contact list and stopped at 'Cornelius Cromwell'. He swallowed hard, his trembling thumb hovering over the name. It was as though the digit had a mind of its own, betraying its master and begging the question; Why are you doing this? Why would you give up the plan?
Because, I have no choice, he argued.
He took in a long breath and let it out through his nose, adding to the condensation on the glass. Damarion had to admit to himself that Cornelius would never let Isabelle go. He knew as long as she was being held captive Cornelius had the upper hand. A dangerous game to play with so much at stake.
This has gone on long enough.
“There’s no other way,” he shook his head and forced his thumb to submit.
The phone rang several times before Cornelius's familiar crackle burst into Damarion's ear. “What do you want? I'm in the middle of a very important meeting.”
“I know, but this is more important. I found the Wolf,” Damarion replied. “He's at the wall ceremony.”
“What the hell is he doing there?”
“I signed the order to send him through the gates this morning.”
Cornelius coughed. “You did what? You son of a bitch, I knew you would betray me!”
“It's not what you think. That's why I'm calling. If you clear the mansion and send all your security personnel now, you can still take him in.”
“If you already had him, why didn't you hold him for me?”
“Cornelius. I had to keep up appearances. Anna's the one who brought him in and forced my hand to do something.”
“Bullshit, You should have called me first, the minute you had him. I could have told you what to do. You'll pay for this Damarion.”
“I'm on your side here, Governor. It's not too late. The Chamber awaits. That's why I called. Clear the mansion and get all your men over there now.”
Damarion ended the call. He dropped the phone on the seat and wiped the fog from his driver's side window, waiting for Cornelius to take the bait.
It was only a matter of minutes before he watched five black sedan's race down the circle driveway towards the street. They turned, squealing passed his Cadillac and roared toward downtown.
Well, it's done. I hope I gave them enough time.
Damarion started the car and crept down the street, stopping for a moment to wipe the inside of the windshield. He turned into the driveway and rolled the car to the front door. Stepping out, he snapped his head around in all directions scanning the grounds and then popped the trunk of his car. As he pulled out a small black bag with his left hand, he checked the inside of his jacket with his right. He ran his fingers along the metal handle of his gun and then climbed the steps to the front door.
Damarion's pulse throbbed in his neck as he grasped the metal handle and tried the latch. It turned, quelling his fear of how he would get in, but further exacerbating his anxiety of what he would do once on the other side. Damarion opened the door and stepped inside.
He crossed the large abandoned foyer with only lavish wall treatments and an antique rug in view. Damarion cocked his head listening for any sign of activity, but the only sound was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He crept along the hall to the double staircase and tiptoed to the second level.
So far, so good.
Reaching the end of the north balcony he ascended the staircase leading to the third floor with no sign of a stray guard left behind. Not even a loitering maid was in sight, dusting the shelves of the library at the end of the upper hall. It was as Damarion had hoped; with Cornelius away, the entire staff was enjoying a rare day off.
Worried his luck would run out, Damarion ran up the steps to the north tower and jogged to the door of Isabelle's room. He slid inside, closing the d
oor behind him.
“Isabelle,” he whispered as he drew near the iron bars of her cell.
There was a rustle on the other side before Isabelle appeared. Her eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”
“Quiet,” Damarion whispered. “I'm here to get you out.”
“By yourself?”
Damarion placed the small bag on the floor in front of the bars and pulled out a cutting torch. “Yes, don't worry, everyone's gone.”
“Are you sure?” Isabelle asked, licking her lips while peering around the room as best she could through the steel bars. “Why didn't you bring help? You run this entire city's security force?”
Donning dark goggles, Damarion activated the torch and cut through the first bar. “It's not like I could raid a sitting Governor's mansion with city security personnel. And Cornelius has spies everywhere, even within my department,” Damarion explained, finishing his first cut and standing up to cut the top of the same bar. “Watch your eyes.”
“So you thought you would raid the castle by yourself? Like a knight in shining armor, slay the dragon and rescue the princess from the tower?” Isabelle smiled.
“Something like that, yes,” Damarion replied, kneeling to start on the second bar. “Trying to avoid the dragon part though.”
“That's sweet, Father, but I'm worried we won’t walk out of here. Cornelius is cunning, it would surprise me if he didn't leave someone behind.”
Isabelle's eyebrows shot upward, her mouth agape. “Watch out!” she yelled.
Blinded by the goggles, Damarion couldn't move away in time as a Ming vase crashed down over his head.
CHAPTER II
Anna froze.
“Wait stop!” she said, grabbing hold of Lonewolf's arm. She moved around to face him as the crowd pressed in from behind.
“We need to keep moving,” the officer holding Lonewolf's arm urged.
Anna stared into Lonewolf's green eyes. “Uncle Attie?” she asked. “Is that really you?”
Atticus nodded. “Yes, Anna.”
Anna slacked her jaw. “I knew it!” she said shaking her head. “I had a gut feeling the entire time. Except your records said you were dead, so I thought it was impossible.” She slid in between the two officers and hugged Atticus around his neck. “We’re going back. I’ll get you out of here.”
The officers pushed Atticus forward. “Keep moving. This crowd is growing by the minute.” Anna paced Atticus as the crowd grew closer, still chanting her name.
“The crowd is getting out of hand,” Charlie noted. “I don't like this.”
“That's why I didn't want to tell you Anna. Because I knew you would try to stop me. But this changes nothing. We’re sticking to the plan.”
“We need crowd control down here,” an officer called over his radio as the group approached the gates. The judge took his position at the podium and tried to speak over the roar of the crowd. He lifted his hands hoping to quell the mob to no avail. A man standing to one side of the podium caught Anna's attention. A man in a gray suit, wearing a bowler hat. He was staring at her and something in his gaze made the hair on her neck stand up.
Anna shivered.
“Are you okay?” Charlie asked.
“Yes,” Anna lied.
Both the cold, and the unwavering icy stare of the man in the bowler hat, made her tremble. The officers did their best to hold back the swarm of people that surrounded the group as the judge attempted his usual speech. There was a temporary break in noise from the crowd in time for Anna to hear the judge's last few words.
“...and may god have mercy on your souls,” the judge finished and handed a death certificate to a woman weeping in front of the podium. The judge turned and handed a piece of paper to the man in the bowler hat. The man broke his piercing stare to accept the document.
Anna lowered her eyebrows.
Who's the creepy guy in the hat?
High-pitched screams broke out from the crowd as they disbursed in all directions. Anna spun around to see what was causing the commotion. Her trained ear heard the rap of a semi-automatic weapon.
Anna's chest tightened.
She ducked pulling Atticus to a crouching position. “Shooter. We've got a shooter!”
Charlie squatted next to them. “This is turning out to be a real shit show. What the hell is going on?”
“It's Damarion! He's betrayed us,” Atticus replied through clenched jaws. “That son of a bitch!”
Another round of shots snapped through the air and Anna saw three bystanders drop to the pavement. She pushed Atticus forward toward the gates as a bullet hit the pavement at her feet, sending blacktop shrapnel into the air. The officer on Anna's left dropped to the ground and the officer still holding Atticus's arm fumbled for the radio on his shoulder. “Shots fired. Shots fired. Officer down.”
Anna pulled the gun from the downed officer's holster and swallowed hard.
“Get me out of here Anna,” Atticus urged.
“I would rather take you back.”
“Cromwell's either going to kill me or put me in the Chamber. My odds are better out there. We must stick to the plan.”
Another round of gunshots filled the air as Anna pushed passed the podium. She stopped to pull the judge to the ground as the jumper received a bullet to his throat, tearing open his jugular. The convicts mother fell to her knees, dropping the death certificate into a pool of blood while burying her face in her son's chest.
Anna scanned the scene, trying to determine where the shots originated. More than a dozen armed men were running down the street in their direction.
Anna clenched her jaw.
“Okay, I guess I’m left with no choice, but for the record, this is bullshit Atticus,” she yelled over the screaming crowd.
Anna sat down behind the podium pulling Atticus with her and peered around the corner as the gates rolled open along their metal tracks. The street had cleared enough for Anna to fire several rounds toward the men in black suits, forcing them to take cover.
“We have to get to the Humvee,” Anna said, looking into Atticus's eyes. “Time to whirl like a Dervish.”
Anna signaled Charlie on the opposite side of the podium. “Cover me,” she yelled.
Ducking to a crouched position Anna led Atticus toward the gates as Charlie fired several rounds. Stopping to pick up a semi-automatic rifle lying next to an unconscious guard, Anna switched off the safety.
Another round of bullets rained down around them, ricocheting off the wall. Pulling Atticus around the corner, Anna turned and opened fire, forcing the swarm of men to find cover. She led Atticus by the arm towards the Humvee, firing the rifle at waist height with the other. Opening the door, she helped Atticus inside before leaning against the vehicle and taking aim. Anna fired several rounds into the two men nearest them.
“Anna, listen,” Atticus said. “I need you to promise something. I'm sure they'll give you your job back for this, so stay under the radar. Go to work. Go to church. Take a shopping trip. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing you must blend in for our cause.”
Anna nodded. “Good luck Attie,” she replied, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “So now that I know who you are, will you tell me who I am? What was Damarion talking about?”
Several rounds hit the Humvee.
“Jesus Anna, there's no time. Get me the hell out of here.”
Anna closed the door. “Go, go!” she urged the driver, slapping the side window. The Humvee roared to life, squawking its tires before racing away from the gates, leaving Anna with no cover. Crouching, she aimed her weapon and fired as a cloud of shrapnel exploded from the ground at her feet. She spun in the opposite direction as a bullet found her chest, dropping Anna to the ground.
“Shit, shit,” she yelled, checking her shirt while pushing herself backwards toward the wall with her legs. A red circle on the left side of her chest grew in size.
God damn it, I'm hit.
Anna placed a hand over the bullet wound as the g
ates rolled along their rails.
“No. Wait!” She cried out, crawling towards the thick iron bars on her knees and one elbow.
With blurred vision and blood dripping from her chest Anna raced the gate as it rolled along its track. Somersaulting through the gap just as the gates slammed shut, Anna collapsed to her side.
“Anna. Oh, no. Anna,” Charlie said, kneeling beside his partner. He covered her wound with his hand, holding pressure. “We need an ambulance!” Charlie screamed. “Someone help!”
Charlie gazed into Anna eyes. “You‘ll be okay.”
Anna could tell by the look on Charlie‘s face he was anything but sure.
He pulled his hand away to inspect the wound allowing a fresh gush of warm blood to flow between his fingers. “Shit!” he swore with wide eyes, reapplying pressure to Anna's chest.
Anna stared up into Charlie's face. The last image she saw before losing consciousness was her partners fear ridden eyes.
◆◆◆
“So you thought you could stroll in here and take your daughter?” Cornelius's butler asked the unconscious Damarion on the floor at his feet.
Isabelle dropped to her knees and reached through the bars, feeling her father’s neck for a pulse.
Oh, thank God.
The butler kicked Damarion in the ribs.
“Leave him alone,” Isabelle said.
“I made a phone call. Guards are on their way back. Dear 'ol Daddy will be in the Chamber within the hour,” the tall man explained through sunken cheeks.
The butler rolled Damarion away from the door.
“I said leave him alone.”
“He's not the one you should worry about,” the butler replied, giving Isabelle an evil grin. “We're all alone. George isn’t here to rescue you.” The butler put handcuffs on Damarion. “I know what you and George do up here, late at night, when he comes to visit you. I’ve heard the laughter, the giggling and the moaning.” The butler held up a second pair of handcuffs, allowing them to dangle from his pencil fingers. “Wrap these around a bar and then put them on. Now it's my turn, and there's no one to hear you scream.”
