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Authors: Jordon Greene

They'll Call It Treason (21 page)

BOOK: They'll Call It Treason
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CHAPTER 46

January 31 at 11:40
a.m.
EST

North Carolina Mountains

                                                       

“Maybe I should just turn myself in,” Ethan lamented. “This has got to stop.”

The skin under his eyes was dark and moist. His heart ached. Watching the fire trucks, EMT van and police cruisers flying by in the opposite direction just twenty minutes before had only made it feel worse to run.

“No.” It was the first word Gray has spoken since they had left the cabin. His voice was quiet, but firm.

Ethan turned to look at Gray. He was staring out into the white. Flurries of snow whooshed in through the glassless window frame. Gray seemed oblivious to the flakes dancing around him. Ethan was about to say something when Gray rotated to look at him.

“Turning yourself in won’t help anything. We’re all hurting. We’ve all lost two good friends, but giving in is not the answer.”

Ethan was surprised at how calm his friend spoke.

“Then what do we do? What can we do, Gray? They have every resource available to them. We only have what we can carry in here. We don’t have access to the police, nothing.”

For a moment no one said a word. Austin sat in the back, silent and stoic, a bit of shock working its way through his system. Gray looked back out the passenger side window into the snow covered woods.

“We’ve got each other,” Gray began, his voice even quieter than before. “We still have each other, the three of us. We can’t give up.” He paused again to take a breath. “Dante wouldn’t want us to stop, and neither would Jason. And Ethan, I know you’re not the type to give up. We owe it to them to see this through to the end. Let’s stop these SOBs.”

Pushing back the sorrow and grief, Ethan slowly pulled himself together. Gray was right.

“You’re right, we can’t stop, but how do we succeed? How do we get out of this?” Ethan gritted his teeth, angry at himself for giving up.

“I don’t know Ethan, I don’t know.” Gray bowed his head, a sense of inadequacy showing in his eyes. “We’ll find a way, but if it comes down to it...I’m willing to die trying. This isn’t just for Jason and Dante, or you or me, man. It’s for the nation. If this organization can get away with this, use the Bureau like this, people are in danger. Just think of what else it has likely done, or will do. Where else it has infiltrated.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. Their situation did affect more than just him and his friends; it had the potential of affecting everyone. If they stopped now, it meant more than just their failure; it meant more people would die. Cerberus would go on, making more widows, more fatherless sons. The world would be made to believe each murder, each massacre, was just another unconnected, unfortunate, event. He soaked in the sobering thought.

How could he stop? No one may ever realize what was happening, but it was happening nonetheless.

Just minutes before, Ethan had veered off the parkway onto a small dirt road to avoid going through the small town ahead. The Agency was sure to have warned the local police of their current trajectory. They would be on the lookout for them on the main roads in force. Evasion, for the moment, was their best option.

“So what’s the plan now?” Austin asked, leaning forward between the two, finally unlocked from his torpor.

Gray twisted in his seat. “Plan? Well I’d start with Abrams. He is apparently connected to this…” He struggled to find the word. “...This
Cerberus
organization.  I doubt we’ll get anything out of him, but if we can cut off at least one arm of that organization, maybe we can expose it.”

“We have to go after Abrams,” Ethan agreed more than readily. “We find him and expose Cerberus… and we find Kate.”

“How do we find him, though?” Austin prodded.

Ethan let out a breath of defeat. “I don’t know.”

CHAPTER 47

January 31 at 11:50
a.m.
EST

Unknown Warehouse

                                                       

“No! No,” Kate begged as Sean forced his lips across her own. She turned away, trying to block out the sound of his heavy breathing, but the noise only got louder. Her body quaked in violent rhythm, shame and hate overwhelming her.

“Ah!” she gasped, opening her eyes in a cold sweat. She was alone again in the dark room, still bound to the familiar cold metal chair. Her breath came in quick, short spasms. Her eyes staring straight ahead, locked on some invisible object in the darkness.

Kate let her eyes drop to the concrete floor and tried to calm her breathing and relax her body. Her wrists burned from the plastic bands digging into her skin as she had struggled through the nightmare.

A single tear escaped her eye. She shivered. Sean’s face flashed in her head. She flinched back.

“No. It’s not real,” she assured herself, trying to force him out of her mind. It did not work. He seemed to hang over her. Kate tried to imagine Ethan, but it was no use. Every thought ended in Sean.
Go away!

She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Searching the room, she tried to find something to focus on, something to occupy her thoughts.

First she found the small cart and tray with its assortment of tools. She quickly moved past its display of torturous tools to a set of boxes in the corner. She strained her eyes to obtain some detail in the dark. It was useless. Suddenly something in her mind brought her back to the tray.

Is it closer?

Reluctantly, Kate took another glance down at the tray. The night before it had been sitting at least two feet off to her left. Now it sat just next to her chair, mere inches from her bound hand. Sean must have knocked it closer and had failed to move it back.

Kate focused on the tray.

Scalpel.

She had to get that scalpel. Kate forced herself to push against the plastic bands, reaching for the tray. She could almost touch it. A splinter of hope rose inside her.

I have to get it! I have to!

Ignoring the musty aroma of the room, Kate took a deep breath and braced herself for the pain. She twisted and pushed her wrist against the plastic. Pain seared up her arm, blood seeped from the top of her wrist as the plastic cut into her skin. Almost. She felt a finger brush against the tray.

Refusing to stop, she pressed harder. She moaned as the pain in her wrist shot erratically up her arm. Almost there.

Finally, her fingers caught hold of the tray. She pulled back quickly to ease the pain. A quick sloshing of metal against metal echoed in the empty chamber as the tray’s contents grated against each other and along the walls of the tray.

Taking a stuttered breath, Kate extended her finger as far as should could reach, shuffling the tools around carefully. She moved aside a long pointed instrument before finally uncovering the scalpel. A brief smile crossed her lips as she carefully grasped its handle and lifted it from the tray.

Just last night the scalpel had remained a constant reminder of the horrors her captor had in store for her. Torment and despair. Now, it almost seemed beautiful.

For a moment Kate questioned the sanity of her plan. Steal the blade, cut herself free and meander around the halls until she found her way out, all while hoping no one saw her. It was her only option though.

Kate closed her eyes and stilled herself for a moment. Rotating the scalpel in her palm, she maneuvered the blade into position over her wrist and under the plastic zip tie. Delicately she sawed at the plastic.

It was more difficult to move the knife in this position than she had imagined. Time slugged by. Kate struggled to keep the blade in one place. Keeping the pressure up while the same hand was strapped to the chair proved to be difficult. The plastic dug into the top of her wrist sending quick spasms of pain up her arm and knocking the blade from its notch in the plastic.

Suddenly the pressure relieved and her hand lurched forward as the band snapped open. Free, her hand was free. She gasped in excitement.

With a renewed sense of hope she sliced the other band holding her right hand in place and carefully stepped out of the chair. As quickly as her renewed hope had surged in her chest it disappeared. The realization that she had no idea what to do next overwhelmed her. She did not know how to get out and the only weapon in her possession was the tiny scalpel that had enabled her likely brief freedom.

I cannot just wait around for Sean to come back. I’ve got to move!

She gripped the scalpel tight and ran in the direction Sean had always come when he entered. As she entered the dark a simple wooden door became visible. She stopped at the door, scared of what she might find behind it.

Kate closed her eyes, willing herself to move on.
You can do this Kate. You have to do this.

She reached for the door knob and twisted it, cracking the door open just enough to glance in. The room was dimly lit. A set of half-working florescent lights hung from the ceiling. A lamp had been left on, sitting on a large desk along with a scattering of papers and a lone laptop computer.

Silently she slipped into the room. Once inside she took a quick inventory. There was nothing unusual. The room was dimly lit. Two chairs sat unattended by the desk and another door on the opposite side of the room. She swept the room for any weapons that might have been left. Nothing, the room was empty.

She returned her attention to escape. Careful not to make any noise she rushed to the next door. She looked down at her hand with the scalpel. The thought of having to use it against another human hit her like a freight train. She slumped back against the wall.
I can’t.

She sobbed, caught between two needs. Escape and defending herself. It was impossible to achieve one without the other.
You have to Kate, you have to.

Forcing herself to regain composure, Kate took a deep breath, raised the scalpel. She pushed the door open, revealing a long hallway to the right. She could see where a bulletin board used to hang on the wall from the different color of the paint. The lighting was better here.

Examining the hall, she counted three doors, two on the right and one to the left further down the hallway. It looked like the hall turned off to the right about twenty yards ahead.

How do I get out of here? Do I just try each door?

She was out of the chair finally, but she felt just as trapped not knowing how to get out of this prison. Fear gripped her again. Following the hallway, Kate hoped it would lead to an exit.

She trembled as she crept close to the wall. She passed the first door, her heart beat frantically.

Calm down Kate. Just calm down. You’ll be fine.

It did no good. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. All she could do was keep moving. She hoped the building was not as big as it felt.

              Kate kept a cautious pace along the hall’s edge, the next door was coming up on her right. She tightened her grip on the scalpel. She froze at the sound of a toilet flushing. The noise had come from behind the door. She froze.

What do I do? I cannot turn—

The door opened and a big man in khakis and a black shirt covered with a tactical vest stepped out, momentarily facing away from her. Kate stepped back, scraping her shoes against the floor. Suddenly the man whipped around.

She caught a quick glimpse of his face. Pale white, rough skin, a gruff looking five o’clock shadow. His green eyes showed surprise against his broad jawline.

She turned to run, but before she could move an arm wrapped around her and slammed her up against the adjacent wall. Her body crashed against the wall, but she held tight to the scalpel.

“Where do you think you’re going little miss?” the man asked sarcastically, yanking her back in his arms.

His arms wrapped around her holding her tightly to his chest from behind, her arms held tight under his. She squirmed to get loose. There was no use.

“No need to struggle now,” he assured her. “Just calm down and make this easy on yourself.”

She kicked back, connecting her heel with his lower shin. The man chuckled like it was funny, some playful act. Suddenly she remembered she still held the scalpel. Kate tested her arms motion under the man’s grip. She could still bend at the elbows.

The man dragged her back down the hall toward the empty chamber.

I’m not going back to that room.

Kate gripped the scalpel and brought her arm up above the man’s grasp on her shoulders. She yanked down, slicing into the man’s wrist. He wrenched back, letting her loose.

“Ah!! You bitch!” he cupped his wounded wrist, blood seeping through his fingers.

Taking advantage of the opportunity she spun around and attempted to run. The man jumped to the side placing himself in her path.

Kate slid to a stop and jabbed toward him with the blade. The man moved quicker than she had hoped. He pushed her hand to the side with his good arm and threw her to the ground. With his wounded arm pulled tight to his side, he kicked her in the side while she was down.

Kate doubled over as his kick knocked the wind out of her. Still she held tight to the knife and before the next kick came she had the knife up, slicing deep into his calf. He staggered forward in pain, almost tripping over her body.

Getting to her feet, she lunged at the man, slashing at his chest as he moved in. She missed as he shoved her arm to the side, but with a wounded arm and leg, he was having trouble moving. Quickly she rebounded and slashed out again aimlessly, catching his shoulder.

“Argh!!” he yelped. Shock began to register on the man’s face. He hadn’t expected this. Refusing to become the victim again, she brought the scalpel around and sliced through the soft tissue of the man’s neck. Blood seeped at first, then surged forward.

His eyes filled with desperation and fear. He gasped, blood gurgled in each breath escaping his lips. Then he fell back to ground, limp.

Staring down at the man’s body, the adrenaline subsided and Kate began to shiver. His eyes were wide-open, staring blankly up at her. Even with the brightness of his green eyes, there was nothing there. She trembled, letting the scalpel fall free from her hand. It clinked against the concrete floor.

Lifting her hands she stared at the fresh blood on her fingertips in shock. She dropped to her knees still shaking.
What have I done?

Behind her the sound of an opening door echoed through the hall.

”Alright Max. I’m ready to take over for the after—” he halted when he saw Kate on her knees in the hallway, and Max lying on the floor.

Kate turned around slowly at the sound of the man’s voice. The shock paralyzed her.

The guard immediately raised his weapon and jogged the few steps between them, “Keep your hands where I can see them!”

Kate didn’t move, shaking.
What have I done?

Gruffly the guard gripped her arm and yanked her away from Max.

“Oh, you’re really in for it now,” the man said in an angry grisly voice. “You be glad I’m under strict orders not to harm you. You be real glad.”

BOOK: They'll Call It Treason
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