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The Golden Goose of Los Angeles Extended Edition

Page 55

by Travis Adams Irish

me; that’s fine, but I don’t want to lose Tina.”

 

  Khrakum nods his head slowly, releasing his hand from Rory’s shoulder as he senses that the young man has more to say.

 

  “She’s not just some woman that I pulled out of a dangerous situation.” Rory continues as tears begin to flow from his eyes. “She’s my salvation… She’s… proof… that I want to be better. I don’t know… When he told me that he was murdering them… killing mothers for having my children, because their love was a nuisance – a liability… There’s so much pain in that compound behind the house… If we don’t get them all out safely, then we’ve failed… I can’t live with the things that have been done – I caused.” He looks down at the hospital gown and the blanket that is covering him, feeling cowardly to be in such a warm and comforting place.

 

  “Rory, you just saved the princess from the dragon, and it’s much harder than it looks in the fairytales…” Khrakum states with a distant stare, reflecting on his own experiences with the same. “As for what you can live with… You’d be amazed. I’ve seen kids come out of total hell… and become everything they ever wanted… Somehow they bury their nightmares, and march on like some type of super resilient race of people.” Orson tips his head back as another thought occurs to him. “Hell, I suppose if there are apex predators, then there are apex survivors.”

 

  Rory smiles wide beneath his tired eyes, feeling an amazing connection to his FBI companion. This smile soon fades, however, as the thought of apex predators resurfaces a memory of the awful video he watched on Chandler’s iPad®.

 

  “Oh my God! Is Kelly safe!?” Rory asks suddenly, looking up at agent Khrakum with renewed anxiety. “They busted her arm! I need to know if she’s okay.”

 

  “She’s fine, Rory.” The tall agent states with a nod, seeming like his patience for coddling is waning. “Kelly will probably be down here to see you when we finish up with questions, evidence, and-”

 

  An officer appears in the doorframe, and urgently taps the black steel with a set of keys, interrupting Orson. The FBI agent turns around and immediately steps over to talk with the policeman. Their conversation is animated as the short, Italian police officer stares up at the hulking FBI agent.

 

  Rory sits pensively on the bed, trying to determine whether good or bad news is being delivered. His right hand instinctively grips the blanket that is draped over his bed as the tension on the men’s faces displays anything but good news. After a few minutes of quiet conversation, the police offer exits the room, and leaves Khrakum to provide Rory the information.

 

  “What’s going on!?” Rory asks with a fearful gaze, suddenly feeling more alert as Orson turns back around to face him. “Did they get Pezzloni?”

 

  “Rory, you should try to rest.” Khrakum states with some hesitation, glancing momentarily at the floor. “This isn’t the type of thing you should be involving yourself in at this stage.” He manages to force a smile, but can already tell by Rory’s demeanor that he will demand the truth.

 

  “I just fucking went through-“ Rory begins with a great deal of passion, rising up in the bed to challenge the agent.

 

  “Okay. Okay. I get it!” Orson responds with a tough exterior, raising the palm of his hand to silence Rory’s protests. “We breached the grounds at the Pezzloni estate, and our team has seized the house… but the men have barricaded themselves into the compound with dozens of hostages.” The seasoned agent states with a tired look, surmising the potential outcome of this situation. “Pezzloni is in a standoff with the FBI and the ATF. He’s threatening to feed the kids to the dogs if we don’t leave the estate grounds.” Khrakum reports as he looks toward the floor in silent frustration.

 

  “What are you going to do?” Rory asks with a shocked expression, amazed that Pezzloni still has the upper hand.

 

  “We’re gonna’ buy some time.” The agent responds with a shrug of his muscular shoulders, turning to look his witness in the eyes. “Also, Rory, there’s something I need to tell you… It’s not gonna’ be easy to hear.”

 

  Rory mashes his lips together with a grimace of disdain, wondering how much worse this will get, and when it will ever end.

 

  “You mother is missing from her Boston home.” Khrakum conveys empathetically while maintaining eye contact with the younger man. “We don’t know how long it’s been, but the last time anyone saw her was two days ago…”

 

  Rory stares at the wall in shock, hoping for a moment that he will wake up from just having a bad nightmare. He blinks his tired eyes a few times, noticing that tears are already beginning to flow down his cheeks. His feet begin to shift nervously below the covers, and his insides are a tempest of misfortune.

 

  “It was Chandler.” Rory says immediately after giving the situation some thought. “He said that I needed to pay, and my mother was next on the list.” His body begins to shake at the thought of not knowing whether his mother is safe, and Rory simultaneously recalls another tragedy – the premature death of his father. “I need to get to Boston!” Rory proclaims after some consideration, staring with conviction toward agent Khrakum.

 

  “I can’t do that, Rory.” The agent responds immediately, shaking his head from side-to-side.

 

  “Why the fuck not!?” Rory asks incredulously. “There’s nothing else I can do to help you here!”

 

  “Because the local cops just told me that Pezzloni is demanding to speak with you.” The agent states in a callous voice, lowering his eyebrows in a serious manner.

 

  “Well, I’m not fucking talking to him – ever again!” Rory announces with bold certainty, gesturing defensively with his hands. “The only time we’ll see each other is in court.”

 

  “I don’t think… you get my meaning…” Orson says in a strangely aggressive voice as he bends closer to Rory’s face. “Pezzloni wants to fuckin’ talk to you! He gets… what he wants…”

 

  Rory’s face goes pale as these words are delivered like a care package from Satan himself. He looks up at the leering agent in total disbelief, observing every facial expression, and listening to the minute inflections of his voice. In his dismay, Rory stops breathing as he comes to the horrid conclusion that his enemy is much closer than he ever believed possible.

  THE END.

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  Other books by this author

  Please visit your favorite ebook retailer to discover other books by T. C. Clover:

  Shots Fired in the Melting Pot

  Dividers

  She is Risen

  Isiah's Skirmish

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