Somebody's Gonna Hurt Someone
This is fiction. Any resemblance between the content of this story or any of the characters depicted herein and real persons or events is highly unlikely and purely coincidental.
The information about what was happening in Dallas surprised Philip. The people responsible on paper for what happened to Marsha's brother were being eliminated. Philip instructed the AI to insert the record of an anonymous letter sent to the attorney's private residence. An unsent email from the dead attorney was created; it stated that a threat was made against himself, retired officer Brent Henrique, and currently serving officers Samantha Cummings and Frank Macy.
The unsent email was time-stamped to show it was created three minutes after the attorney had logged into his account. The secretary discovered it twenty-three minutes after the ambulance left. The warning could possibly save only Cummings and Macy. Brent Henrique had been found electrocuted in his workshop by a neighbor seven minutes earlier.
"The concubine Marcia Reynolds wants you informed of the following," the AI announced to both Philip and Nicholas. "Paul Benton, the bailiff for Judge Parker, hung himself sometime last night. His body was discovered in a restroom in Trinity Park. The court reporter of record for the commitment proceedings, Maria Gomez, has been reported missing by her husband."
Nicholas puffed air into his cheeks and then exhaled loudly. "We're running out of people who know about or were at that hearing."
"That gives us what, one missing and two people still alive?" Philip leaned forward until his forehead touched the table.
That is when the AI chimed in again. "According to court documents, Maria Gomez, the one you referred to as missing, is the only person who attended the commitment hearing that is not confirmed deceased."
Philip sat up and looked at Nicholas, "Reverend Powers was not at this hearing?"
"Records indicate that he was addressing a Southern Christian Leadership Conference subcommittee in Atlanta, Georgia."
Nicholas shattered the pencil he held in his hand. "He shipped his boy off with no support or advocacy."
"It seems killing Michael," Philip almost whispered, "is not as important as covering his ass."
"Deacon Macy," the instrument of God's own ordained called to capture Frank Macy's attention. "I've been sent by the reverend, he has a message for you."
Frank's cell phone started ringing. The Bad Boys ringtone let him know it was the sheriff department calling. Since he was off duty, he ignored it. Frank couldn't believe it. Jake Tarkington was standing in front of him. Ten years ago, Jake had been a biker with a violent reputation. For some reason he had attended a revival at the Temple of Trinity. By the end of that night, Jake was saved, claiming that Reverend Powers had changed his purpose on Earth. There were rumors the ex-biker had moved to Georgia, and was working at a motorcycle dealership. Frank walked up with his hand extended. Jake grabbed it, and pulled Frank into a man hug.
"You have been counted among the unrighteous," Jake whispered into Frank's ear, as he inserted the needle deep into the deputy's back. Frank tried to reach up and remove the burning sting. Jake turned his hip into Frank, removing vulnerable targets. The bear hug shifted up, keeping Frank from being able to reach any of his concealed weapons.
Frank could only thrash. His struggles weakened with each heart beat as the neurotoxin spread. Frank's breathing became shallow. Muscles went limp. Jake took the dying man back to Frank's car. Opening the back door, he placed Frank gently on the bench seat. "I only do as God's servant commands." Frank's eyes stopped moving.
Jake eased back to the minivan that he drove to meet Frank. The grocery bags still covered the woman who lay dead behind the middle seat. He drove back to Gateway Park, then walked about a mile to East First Street. There he boarded the bus for his trip across town to the motel. With any luck, he could make Shreveport in about four hours.
Once back in his room, he sent a text to Billy. "His will is done." He didn't wait for a reply. Jake walked out to his Harley. On the way, he removed the battery and the SIMM card from the phone. In one of his saddlebags were three tools he needed. He used the industrial scissors to cut the SIM card into slivers. A leather bag and small ball-peen hammer helped to reduce the phone to plastic, fiberglass, and shiny bits of metal.
His first stop was the Batteries Plus store. He put the cell phone battery into the recycling box. It was the environmentally right thing to do. Forty minutes down the road, he stopped at a KFC for a meal and emptied phone bits into a trash bin. By midnight the following night, he would be back in Tifton in his own bed.
Bubba stopped inches before the back of the van touched the loading dock. Getting out, he grabbed his clipboard and walked over to the stairs. Lieutenant Percy followed at a discreet distance, carrying her own clipboard. For their cover, she was a supervisor for the bakery and Bubba was making his first observed deliveries. The platform had enough room to maneuver goods delivered on a pallet. The steps on the left side of the loading dock terminated at a door with a camera above it. Bubba walked up to a secure door. He pressed the buzzer on the wall next to a speaker grill.
"Can I help you?" A man's voice came from the box next to the buzzer.
"Wonder Bread delivery," Bubba replied into the box.
There was silence. Then the box spoke. "Who is that with you?"
"She is my immediate supervisor." Bubba looked back at Percy. She ticked an item on her clipboard. I'm on a biannual company mandated safety training run today."
There was another pause. The door buzzed, signaling for Bubba to enter. Opening the door, he let the lieutenant enter first. Maintaining her cover, Percy checked another imaginary box on the papers she looked at. The balding security guard met them. His left hand held the phone to his ear. He nodded and spoke softly. He had the strap over his pistol dangling free. A half dozen insect sized observation drones entered at ankle level and began spreading out into the building.
The guard was looking at a paper taped to the wall. "Your delivery is supposed to be tomorrow." The balding security guard eyed both of them. He looked across the open storage area at the pantry entrance, which lead to the kitchen. Waves of nervous energy fell from his body. His ID tag revealed his last name was Schwab.
"Have the perimeter drones suppress all communications, now," Lieutenant Percy ordered sub-vocally.
He spoke into the phone. "Rollo, have you got through to Wonder Bread yet?" The guard moved back a step nearer the desk. He punched three numbers. Schwab then keyed his mic. "Rollo, is your radio on?" He waited for a reply. There was a short pause. Bubba took two steps to his right. Percy eased to her left.
Clem and Russell walked up the steps to the main entrance. Russell carried a suitcase, he was dressed in a navy blue tailored suit, and Clem wore charcoal. The tinted windows of the Suburban hid Jimbo and Lynn, the remainder of his team. Opening the door, he walked directly to the security window.
A wall and a security checkpoint subdivided the room. The checkpoint consisted of two levels, a bulletproof window mounted over a four-foot high half-counter. There was a pass-through trough under a circular set of drilled holes to speak through. It resembled a teller window on steroids.
"Can I help you sir?" The guard inside the window asked Clem. The phone on his desk rang.
Russell set the suitcase on the counter. Another six observation drones were released inside the building. They used the counter top overhang as cover to hover under and disperse. Clem cleared his throat.
The guard answered the ringing phone. "Rollo," he nodded his head listening to the other party. "We never take deliveries on Thursday." He nodded and shook his head nonverbally, responding to the words in his ear. "All the food is cold served today and tomorrow. There's nobody in the kitchen. Bruce, Bruce.... Phone's dead." He keyed his mic, "Bruce, Bruce...." He reached down, clicking the radio on and off. "I think my radio is dead too. I'll start checking in with everyone."
The guard Rollo reached for the mic attached to the base radio. He turned to Clem, smiling apologetically. "Our radios seem to be dead. You need to give me a few-"
The sliding bolt on the AK-74 carbine did what Clem wanted it to. He had Rollo's undivided attention. With the folding stock removed, the gun reflected its design. The main purpose of this AKS variant was killing humans. "I'm going to use small words." Clem had ratcheted his Alabama accent up to pure 'good-ole-boy'. "We need to avoid any failures and communicate." Clem smiled, he pointed at the door control. "Push the button, let us in."
Rollo reached toward the buzzer. Then he crumpled to the floor, screaming. "Code Red! Code Red! Main lobby!" His target was no longer visible. Clem had fucked up. Percy was going to be pissed, she might take it out on his 'meat and veggies'.
From Bubba's briefing, Clem knew the security desk consisted of one-inch bulletproof laminated plate. It would take some concentrated fire from an RL-10 to melt through the two-inch bulletproof glass. The sound of sliding metal below the counter top caught his attention. Gun ports, Bubba did not have these in his briefing. Clem pushed Russell away. The bark of Rollo's pistol was heard three times, in quick succession.
Jimbo and Lynn entered the front door. The pistol barked again. Jimbo was knocked back through the door. Russell rolled against the bottom of the security desk. He jammed the barrel of his carbine into the gun port.
"Shit!" Rollo yelled as he could be heard smashing against the chairs.
Lynn rushed to the desk. Through the pass-through slot, she flipped in a stun grenade. "Fire in the hole!" Lynn warned her squad members. Russell removed his barrel from the gun port, rolling away. Clem made sure he no longer touched the security desk. There was a heavy crackling sound.
The AI reported a drone's observation. "The security guard is incapacitated."
Jimbo walked through the door rubbing his chest. "That stings worse than it does with a standard vest." He held a bullet in his left hand. "That bastard," he pointed at the security desk, "is using Black Talon hollow points." He walked toward Lynn. "Sergeant, can I kill him?"
"Not at the moment." Clem walked over to Jimbo. He checked the torn dark blue coveralls. "And you are the one who didn't want to wear the Kusari Body Armor. Remember chicks dig scars, but they love to soothe bruises."
"With my luck, the skin suit will kick the nanites into clearing out the bruise," Jimbo lamented. "I'll just have memories of the sting to keep me warm."
Clem looked back at Russell. "Open the door please."
Russell reached into the suitcase. He pulled out a six-inch long, three-quarter inch wide strip of yellow tape. He attached it next to the locking mechanism on the steel door.
"Opening the security door with tape in thirty seconds." Russell repeated the warning sub-vocally. He walked over to where the security desk joined the wall. The rest of the team stood in places that shielded them from the door, but allowed them to cover the area.
The HEXOTAPE did not go boom. There was a flash, but it sounded more like a heavy gust of air from a punctured car tire or a big bottle rocket at takeoff. The chemical smell was mostly burnt paint and molten plastic. Jimbo used a gloved hand to grab the open door eight inches above the damaged area. He held it open. Lynn entered where the security guard Rollo lay. She hogtied Rollo with interlocking zip ties. "With his hands and his feet trussed up like that behind his back, I wish I had an apple to shove into his mouth."
Just before lunchtime, Billy shared the text with Reverend Powers.
"It was a hard thing to do, my son." Reverend Powers walked over to Billy. He placed his right hand on Billy's shoulder. "Could I read the prognosis for Michael myself, after lunch?"
"Of course, Sir."
"Order a lunch for us. Be sure to have them include a pot of that caramel coffee we had at breakfast." Reverend Powers turned, taking a few steps toward his bedroom, "What time am I scheduled to speak with the mayoral committee again?"
Billy pulled up the schedule on a smart phone. "At 4:30, one hour before the start of the buffet."
The instructions Anne Birch received from Che Ryan's web reference seemed a bit cryptic. At 11:30, she was to enter any testing center. Show her CAP card to the person at the counter. Then someone would escort her back for an interview.
Anne boldly walked into the testing center at Union Station. She pulled her card out of her pocket and walked to the counter. "I'm Anne Birch, I have an appointment."
The door leading to the testing suites opened. A black woman wearing three chevrons marking her as a sergeant stepped through. "If you'll come with me please, ma'am." The sergeant did not turn until Anne stepped toward her. "If you'll follow me to the back room, we can get you started."
"Do you know who I'm supposed to interview?"
"No ma'am." She continued leading Anne down the hall. Once they entered the back room, the sergeant stopped. She turned and quickly glanced at Anne as a whole person. "Good, no heels." The center of the throw rug glowed green. "Hold up an arm, someone will be there to steady you on the other end."
"Oh my." Anne held up her right arm, closed her eyes and stepped forward.
A hand took hers, it helped with her sense of disorientation. "Greetings, Ms. Birch." She knew that voice. Opening her eyes, she saw Colonel Reynolds.
"Are you my victim?" she asked.
Colonel Reynolds led her to a sitting area in what looked like a Victorian office. "Please sit," he gestured at the furniture, "would you like something to drink?"
Anne sat down in the middle chair. "Thank you, but not right now." The colonel took the chair on her right. "Why me?"
"You have a track record for exposing corruption, charlatans, and other miscreants." He picked up a folder and handed it to her. "This is what we found about a Dr. Arlington."
At the back entrance, Schwab, the bald headed guard, calmly drew his gun and aimed it at Bubba. "What I need you to do, boy, is to take a step back toward the door." Bubba took a step backwards, raising both hands. He continued to back slowly toward the door. "That's a good boy, you do what you are told."
Percy stared at the gun. She opened her mouth in astonishment. The guard glanced at her. She could only stare at the gun. He flashed a look of dismissal towards her. "Don't move, honey. The boy here is going to back out the door, first." Schwab turned his attention back to Bubba. He stayed about two feet from Percy. "Honey, you and I will talk once the boy is outside."
Bubba banged into the door, forcefully drawing Schwab's attention to him. It was a distraction Priscilla Percy, the former SAS specialist, needed. Percy used the edge of her clipboard to strike at Schwab's hand, which held the gun. The translucent green writing surface of the clipboard shattered against the metal of the guard's pistol. The same force first pulverized the bones of the fingers holding the grip. Her left foot connected with Schwab's right upper arm. He bodily flew into the wall. He crumpled to the floor, unmoving.
Percy had her 9mm trained at Schwab. "Bubba, bring everyone else inside."
"Yes, Ma'am." Bubba opened the door. He strode halfway to the back of the van. He sub-vocally announced that the rear entrance had been secured.
Percy walked over to the crumpled guard. "I'll have you know," in her disgust, she had slipped a little deeper into her aristocratic British accent, "I command highly trained men." She pulled two sets of zip ties that were interconnected from her coat pocket. "Trying to elicit a response from a black man by calling him 'boy' is racist." She put his hands and feet together behind Schwab's back. "Fortunately for you, I am in a hurry or I would take the time to instruct you on the finer points of manhood."
She looked up to find Bubba and the other four team members smiling at her. "Move or become a second object lesson of the day." Her squad members charged to the next door. Bubba lingered.
"All those lectures about being careful," Bubba held out his hand, "and you attack a man with a gun using a clipboard."
"I keep telling you to be observant." She pointed at Schwab's twisted and bruised fingers. "His fingers were all outside the trigger guard." She picked up the pistol and turned the weapon for Bubba to look closely. Percy pulled the trigger. "He still had the safety on." She dropped the pistol into the wastebasket.
The reverend poured the caramel coffee and offered Billy a cup. It wasn't as good as what was served during the breakfast buffet. There was a slightly bitter aftertaste. Looking up, he could see Reverend Powers also puckered his lips a bit. "Alas, I think we have proof of a shift change in the kitchen." He smiled. "We need the caffeine." With that, he downed the rest of the cup. "I never thought I'd miss the taste of McDonald's coffee. Let me experiment with a little different creamer."
Billy found himself yawning. He had to blink to stop his eyes from closing. The reverend stepped over and checked his forehead. "I guess I'm tired."
The reverend made a suggestion. "Perhaps a good soak in the tub will relax you." He was always looking out for Billy when he overdid it.
Staggering, Billy wandered into his bedroom. Mechanically, he started the water in the tub. The reverend was right, the water felt good.
"Here, have another coffee." Reverend Powers gave him a cup.
Taking the cup, Billy drank it. Why was his mentor in his bathroom? A snapping sound derailed that train of thought. The surgical gloves the reverend wore looked strange, "Why the gloves?"
"I would hate to make a mess and cause the hotel staff problems."
The reply was typical of the reverend. He always tried to make life easier on those who worked in service jobs. It tended to help him garner favors.
Billy looked at his mentor again. "I would like to nap."
"Go right ahead, the soak will do you good."
He could hear the reverend rinsing his own cup in the sink. Billy's cup sat on the edge of the tub. "What about my cup?"
"You might want some more coffee. I will wash it later."
Billy smiled. The reverend was very thoughtful. Yawning, he rested his head back onto the tile backsplash and nodded off.
The reverend stepped out of the bathroom. Using his gloved fingers, he started an email on Billy's smart phone. He did not hit send. He reentered the bathroom carrying the smart phone as Billy sank into the water. When the bubbles in the tub stopped, the reverend placed the smart phone next to the cup on the edge of the tub. He dribbled a little water onto the screen.
Before the reverend exited the room, he dumped the contents of another five of sister Elvin's pills into the empty cup. He filled that cup with the caramel coffee. The empty capsules he dropped on the floor. The ten remaining in the bottle he placed on the serving tray. The bottle he filled with water and let it float in the tub. He thought of a ghostly voice from a ride at Disneyland, "Dead men tell no tales."
He closed the doors to Billy's bathroom and bedroom behind him. Pulling off the gloves, he placed them in his pockets. Once the reverend exited the building, he dropped the gloves into a handy garbage bin. Checking his watch, he realized he had an hour to waste. He entered a quaint little barbershop. The reverend still had a meeting with that conservative group of mayors from New Jersey headed by someone named Win. He wanted to look his best.
Russell carried the suitcase through the blown door. "Sergeant," Lynn called Clem, "we have three other guards on duty. Two are on the upper level, the other one is in the kitchen."
"Jimbo, stay here and monitor the front entrance." Clem pointed at the coaxial cables that ran up the wall from the bank of monitors to the ceiling. "Before you leave, remember we need the DVDs of today's exercise." Jimbo nodded, then took a seat at the security desk.
"Jimbo, take the swipe card from the lanyard around the guard's neck." Clem pointed at the guard on the floor. Jimbo snatched the lanyard, pulling it taut. With his free hand, he grabbed a small knife from his belt. He sliced the lanyard cleanly, handing the card to Clem. "Thank you." The three advanced to the next door.
With Jimbo able to monitor the security cameras, the drones began moving to the second level, as seventy percent of the ground floor was under his watchful eye. "Ma'am," Jimbo called, "the guard in the kitchen has moved to a position where I can no longer see him on the monitor. The area he moved to would allow him an unrestricted view of all three entrances into the kitchen."
One of the Marines, Claudia, was peeking through the window of the door emblazoned with the word 'IN'. "I can see the reflection of his uniform on the refrigerator to my left. The refrigerator has a curved surface. Exactly how far to the left he is, I cannot estimate."
Percy pointed out a custodial cart. It had two forty-eight inch dust brooms. She pointed at Bubba.
The custodial cart was relatively new and therefore quiet. Bubba pushed it through the 'IN' door. The two four-foot-wide dust brooms shielded his face and most of his body from the side of the room where the guard was hiding. He didn't stop. He didn't turn toward the guard. Bubba entered the cafeteria. Once in the cafeteria, he shoved the cart into a table, making considerable noise.
"Hey, are you okay?" The guard partially entered the cafeteria. He was holding a pudding cup and a spoon. Bubba turned and smiled at the guard. "Who are you?"
The answer came from behind him. "Someone who doesn't wish to forcefully separate your gonads from your body," Percy had one hand on the scruff of the guard's neck. She guided him the rest of the way through the door into the cafeteria with her pistol riding low in his butt crack. The remaining team members followed her and her prey.
As Claudia stepped through into the cafeteria, she removed the guard's pistol. She removed the clip and cycled the slide to verify that the weapon was empty. Claudia pitched the pistol into the recycle bin. The clip she pocketed.
"Peter, bind and gag." Percy walked toward Bubba. Peter took control of the guard. He forced his prisoner down to his knees, then onto his stomach. Placing a knee into the guard's back, Peter grabbed each limb in succession, trussing him up and gagging him.
The cafeteria opened to the hallway that connected to the main building. "Lieutenant, this is too easy," Bubba wondered aloud.
Clem crossed to the next security door. "There should be a nurse's station just beyond this door. Behind there is a treatment area. We aren't sure if treatments are scheduled for today, but we will clear each room." Clem swiped the card, causing the light on the lock to turn green, and then he opened the door.
"Hello, ladies." Clem introduced himself. "I need to ask a few questions." Lynn leveled and kept her carbine pointed at them. "Since I am standing here that implies that your security people are tied up,"
"Please, we will do whatever you want!" the older one with streaks of iron gray in her hair promised. The younger one was fiddling on the desk.
"The phone lines are inoperable." Clem smiled. "Your cell phone has no signal." He stepped closer to see over the top of the counter. She pulled her hands away from her cell phone. "I need the patient records."
The younger brunette pointed at the door between them. "They are in there."
"Thank you," Clem turned to Russell. "Deal with them, please."
The younger nurse moved her hand toward the scissors.
"Don't," Lynn ordered, "He might kill you. I on the other hand will hurt you and let you live with it."
Russell quickly hog-tied the pair. Clem pulled out a silver bag. Lynn knelt by the older nurse. "In a minute the boss is coming out of that room." She pointed at records room door. "Is the doctor making rounds today?"
"No."
"Good girl," the carbine moved away from her head, "any treatment going on right now?"
The older nurse looked at the younger one who Russell had just gagged. She shook her head and made an incoherent grumble. Russell aimed his gun at the girl's head. "Chad is using the positive reinforcement room." The younger nurse glared until the barrel of Russell's gun entered her vision field. Then the tears started.
"Jason and Martin have a client in for a positive reinforcement session."
Lynn stroked her forehead, "Which room?"
"The one next to the stairs," that confession started the old nurse's tears. She did not fight Russell as he gagged her.
Clem had reached his first objective, the patient files. The room contained six file cabinets, two computers, one desk with a document scanner and two chairs. The computer with the scanner attached was running. Clem attached a USB with a dongle leading to a deck-of-cards-sized box.
"Due to data transfer rate limitations of the computer bus, it will take forty-seven minutes to download the contents of both machines." The AI offered the statistics.
Exiting the Records Room, Clem found Lynn briefing Percy on the information she had gathered. Percy listened intently.
"Clem, take Russell and Lynn, secure the stairwell." Lieutenant Percy then turned, "Bubba, you, Claudia and Peter clear the two treatment rooms. Then contact me." She turned to the last pair of the team. "Jacob, Mark, come with me. We need to disable the elevator and take the back stair."
At the elevator, Percy pushed the call button. The door opened. She stood in the opening, holding the car on the first floor. Mark and Jacob carried a couch in from the lobby. Leaving the piece of furniture half way into the elevator effectively disabled it.
"Please tell me that this quack is not practicing medicine." Anne Birch dropped the dossier onto the open folder. "Sexual orientation hasn't been considered a choice for years."
"That folder is yours." Colonel Reynolds closed the cover and handed the folder to Anne. "I have a confession to make. Edith Wells and Jimmy Lennon completed eighty percent of the work in that folder."
Anne slowly turned to glare at Colonel Reynolds. "Are you systematically removing key people from the World News Network?" She could see the colonel take a breath to speak. He would not get the chance. "Those are the best junior research interns we have."
Colonel Reynolds held up his hands, waiting for an opportunity to explain. "We hacked into your email and sent a request that they dig up everything they could on Doctor Arlington." He smiled. Anne leaned back, defusing her aggressive posture. "Che let it slip that, if you had the opportunity, you might snag them. I took the opportunity to arrange an audition."
"Bastard."
"I guess then you really don't need to do a more in-depth examination of my character?" He hoped a little self-effacing humor would defuse the situation. In Colonel Reynolds' experience, it was never good to keep a strong woman agitated for any length of time.
Anne responded, "I now wish I had that glass of water." Philip leaned to the right, reaching for the pitcher. "I'd dump it on your head." He stopped and sat back up straight.
"Point taken," Philip spoke a little bit softer. "I should have been more open." Slowly Colonel Philip Reynolds stood. "In the next room, I have surveillance on the group of concerned citizens who have chosen to liberate Doctor Arlington's victims. Come with me if you would like to observe?" He reached out his hand.
Anne reached out and grabbed his hand. She pulled herself up off the couch. "What is the catch?"
"The consummate professional," he took a step toward the door, "the copy of the video you might get will have the identities the current concerned citizens and victims withheld."
In her mind, she pictured six foot ten bodybuilders running around smashing things. "I'll end up surrendering the video to the authorities. They will want to dissect it."
He opened the door and pointed at a table that had several computer monitors. "Let's just say these concerned citizens' experts will be slightly better qualified."
Sitting down, Anne looked at the screen. The image showed a lazy trip through a forest. The sound of a large engine rumbled softly. Topping the rise a sign read "Madison River Sanatorium."
"Bubba, I've got a bad vibe about this room." Peter had a tight grip on his carbine. The closer they moved to the treatment room where the nurse said a patient was, the more Peter grew restless. Lieutenant Percy's briefings had always been factual and curt. Earlier this morning, he could hear the anger in her voice.
"The room should be about twenty-five feet by thirty feet." They were standing before the door. Bubba was ready to swipe the door lock with a purloined key card. "Standard entry, Claudia you take the right, I'll go left, Peter, provide cover from here."
"Are you ready for your fix?" Chad held up a small hypodermic needle filled with two mL of a clear liquid. He really enjoyed this part of the job. The dyke lying on her back had her legs strapped in a pair of stirrups. He could see that her eyes were locked on the methadone.
"Please, Chad," she begged, "I'm starting to feel the crawling."
"You know, you only have to ask for relief." He took his finger and checked to see if she getting moist. He wasn't surprised that he was met with warmth and wetness. She was beginning to associate his cock with feeling good. It could be a trigger to feed her addiction.
Her eyes looked away. "Please Chad, fuck me."
Chad lined himself up and pushed deep inside slowly. He waited as her breathing changed. He started to stroke slowly. Doc Arlington said it was important to 'to teach her to cum on a cock'. Chad was going to make sure it was his. "My instructions say you have to fuck back." She started to work against his rhythm. "Such a good little bitch." He sat the needle down on a tray next to him. He grabbed hold of her thighs. The thrusts became stronger as he slapped his thighs into the backs of hers.
Bubba pulled his arm down. Claudia entered first, moving to the right. She crouched low and took a position of concealment behind sheet-covered equipment. Bubba moved behind a four-sectioned rolling screen. Keeping the door open, Peter aimed at the people fucking by the far wall.
Chad heard the door open. It was probably Rollo. That perv liked to watch. He repositioned one arm and slid his hand to capture and tease her clit. He pushed deep, faking an orgasm. "Not yet, not yet, you work yourself on me for a bit." The little dyke had stopped. With his free hand, he popped an ass cheek. "Fuck yourself on my cock."
Something grabbed the back of his neck. Then the center of Chad's universe became the vice on his balls. Suddenly he could only see the ceiling.
"Just what gives you the right?" The unidentified male voice implied the word motherfucker.
Chad was only able to moan and grab at the fingers crushing him. Suddenly he found himself on the floor. He curled into a ball and whimpered. Somebody in a Wonder Bread uniform was unhooking the dyke from the treatment table.
Bubba shook, trying to unfasten the straps. Peter draped a sheet, covering the girl's core. "I'm not going to hurt you." He pushed the stirrups closed and stepped to her left side. Freeing her right calf, he lifted it out, and started working to free the left one. Bubba looked down at the inert figure on the floor. "He can no longer hurt you."
She hugged Bubba then whispered, "I know how to make you feel good." He realized one of her hands was slowly caressing down toward his waist.
Gently he grabbed the moving arm. "Just seeing you free is all I need now." Scooping her up, Bubba walked over to a couch. He set her on it. "My friends and I need to help the people upstairs. Can you wait here until we come back?"
"Could I have my fix?" The girl stared back toward the restraint table.
Bubba turned and saw the syringe on a small table next to where he found the girl. "Give me a moment. Stay here. I'll be right back." Bubba started back toward Lynn, who held a gun on the rapist. "Put him on that restraint table."
Chad was just beginning to be able to move. Hands grabbed his upper arms and legs. He was lifted high into the air. The ceiling above his head retreated rapidly. Air left his lungs as his body was slammed onto the restraint table. Momentarily stunned, he didn't fight as his legs and arms were fastened in place. An angry black face appeared, leering at him from the foot of the table. The stirrups forced his legs apart before the restraints clicked and locked in place. Chad found himself in the fucking position just like the dyke had been. Pressure gripped his balls. Waves of nausea crashed across his body.
"You have one chance to tell me what drug you're giving her. Otherwise," a small double-edged knife hovered next to the angry face, "I'll geld you, fuck wad."
The blade disappeared from view. His balls were stretched away from his body. Chad started to blather. "It's methadone, it's part of the doctor's treatment plan." Chad turned his head; the syringe he had placed there was missing.
"Next question," these words, ominously whispered, made Chad afraid, "where are her clothes?"
How could he answer this without being mutilated? "The doctor doesn't want the patients clothed." The black man turned and disappeared.
A gag was jammed into his mouth. "If it were my choice," a redheaded man leaned over him whispering, "I'd be tying your mouth shut with your guts." This tormentor tightly secured the gag. Something made of cloth like a pillowcase, was used to encase his head. Chad was effectively blind.
"I don't know what to do." The dyke's voice came from across the room. "Please, mister, tell me what to do. I want the fix. Please, I'll do anything."
"I'll decide then." It was the big black guy's voice. The menace was all gone. "Since I rescued you, I own your ass. My women don't do drugs. You wait here, I'll come back."
The door closed. About two minutes later the pillowcase was pulled off his head. The dyke stared at him. He could tell she was fighting the shakes. "Do you remember the first time you raped me? You told me you had a high enough CAP score that when you're extracted you could have six cunts to fuck." He noticed she was opening the drawers on the training cart. "I remember something from my testing. Criminals like you are excluded." She placed two tiny pair of needle nose pliers on Chad's stomach. Then she held up two green pencil-lead-thin zip ties. Daisy chaining them together, the total length was almost doubled to 7 inches.
Her hands lifted his balls. "People who are sterile can't volunteer." Chad could hear the clicking of zip ties as they tightened. Pressure built up around the base of his balls. He tried to thrash and pull away. Pain radiated from the sensitive skin as the ties bit in. The dyke retrieved the pliers. "With the shakes I'm not as strong as I need to be." When she jerked, he could see one hand pull up. His leg felt the other hand as it jammed down. Pain exploded from his groin. The dyke covered his abused parts with his pants. Chad lost sight of her.
"The view isn't any better from up here." She slipped the pillowcase back over his head. He heard her drop the pliers back into the drawer. "Once they turn black and fall off, I might tie up something else." There was the start of a sensation that struck fear into Chad, a dull ache that grew with each heartbeat.
Clem's squad took their stations at the top of the stairs, waiting for Lieutenant Percy to give the word. One minute later, the lieutenant signaled that she was in place. Through their implants, the AI fed the Marines the intel from the drones. Clem used hand signals to stage the entry pattern to the second floor.
Lieutenant Percy gave the signal. The Marines started counting coup. Lynn moved first. In one step and a leap, she covered the fifteen-foot distance to the nurses' station. Landing on the countertop, she struck the standing nurse just below her sternum. That drove the woman bodily into the back counter cabinets. She crumpled to the floor. Having transferred the majority of her kinetic energy into the first woman, Lynn was able to land on her feet and point her carbine into the sitting nurse. "You need to be a good girl and stay quiet."
Russell stepped out one count after Lynn. Turning, he met an orderly. The surprised man began reaching for his stun gun. Sweeping the man's legs, Russell put the orderly at a distinct disadvantage. The man never understood how much of a disadvantage. Russell rolled forward onto the downed man's chest. Then his fist drove the orderly into unconsciousness. Assuming a crouched position, he covered the hallway.
Clem followed Russell, trusting his fellow Marines to deal with the people now behind him. After a step to the right, one of the guards was reaching for his pistol while shouting a warning. Clem threw the suitcase at the guard. Surprisingly, the guard did not try to catch it. Unfortunately for the guard, the suitcase weighed a hundred pounds. Instead of bouncing off his forearm, it snapped both his radius and ulna. The force of the blow caused the guard to stagger. That double step was all the time Clem needed. He placed his carbine inches from the guard's Adam's apple.
"Don't shoot," the guard half grunted through the pain.
With his free hand, Clem removed the guard's weapons. He motioned for the guard to join Lynn behind the nurses' station. "I can't promise she won't shoot." Clem knew Lynn would prefer to break his other arm than waste bullets. However, foolish people like this man sometimes underestimated women.
Lynn quickly zip tied all four people together. She only fastened the legs of the guard with a broken arm, one leg to the unconscious orderly, the other to the unconscious nurse.
Lynn grabbed the patient map. She walked over to hand it to Clem. He nodded. Lynn took position by the first door with a patient. Clem opened the suitcase. He grabbed the largest pack. Emptying the contents, he began to unfold a transporter pad.
Lieutenant Percy ascended the back fire escape stairs. Once at the top, she sent Jacob to place a strip of HEXOTAPE on each hinge of the fire door. The concussive force was unlikely to spread shrapnel in their direction. She still had her team retreat to the nearest landing. The last remaining guard and two orderlies were standing fifteen feet down the hall. She spoke aloud; the other two groups heard her through their implants. "Blowing door...now."
The door hung by a chain attached somewhere in the hallway. Lieutenant Percy slipped through the space and charged the stunned men in the hall. Her enhanced agility translated into speed. In eight steps, she had accelerated to thirty-one miles per hour. One stride away from the guard, she launched herself, connecting her hip into his midsection. He fell back, she landed on the balls of her feet. The orderly on the right suffered a fist to his solar plexus. The patella on the other orderly was no longer located where it should have been after her heel struck the joint. The energy had shifted its position ninety degrees. By the time the rest of her squad arrived, their job became immobilizing her victims.
By the time Bubba made his way to the top of the fire escape stairs, no one was left standing to oppose him. He made his way to Lieutenant Percy. "I'm going back downstairs to retrieve the girl I left there."
"I'll keep Lynn and Peter to help get the people out here. The drones have found the security server room." The lieutenant pointed to the main stairs. "On your way down, have Jimbo wreak havoc there." She nodded and stepped back, letting Claudia carry a blanket-wrapped victim to the transporter pad.
Bubba met Jimbo outside the treatment room. He watched as the private entered a room two doors down the hall. After seeing Jimbo's signal that the room was clear, Bubba opened the door to where he had left the rape victim. He entered the treatment room slowly.
Bubba took a quick glance at the girl's rapist. He was bouncing and thrashing, still secure. A drone had been dispatched to observe the treatment room when the girl had been discovered. It arrived about the time they strapped the rapist to the table.
The spunk the girl had shown impressed Bubba. Her idea of revenge struck him as excessive, but the girl wasn't privy to the involvement of the press. Part of Bubba liked the concept of castration in this instance. The method should ensure a long empty life for the recipient. Bubba went to undo her handiwork.
Lifting the clothes covering the groin, Bubba experienced a pang of guilt. He even winched and checked his own package. The balls were off color with a bluish hue, ringed by oozing blood, and trapped by daisy-chained green zip ties. He opened the tool drawer, there he found a small curved pair of wire cutters that looked like toenail clippers.
The stub-nosed curved blades had to be pressed and turned to reach under the green zip ties. The rapist thrashed. "Don't move," Bubba whispered, "I might snip shit you want me to save." The rapist stopped. Bubba cut the tie. He dropped the cutters and the ties to the floor. He crossed back to the girl.
"It's Bubba. I'm here to get you." She was curled up on the couch, shaking. "It's going to get better." Kneeling down, he adjusted the sheet to keep her covered as he picked her up. "What's your name?"
Her head never left his chest. "I used to be called Sarah."
He carried her over to where Chad was struggling. "Sarah, my women let me avenge." Bubba found himself swaying. "The authorities are coming for him."
Turning away, Bubba heard the rapist begin to scream into the gag. His attention was on the sobbing girl in his arms. Part of Bubba wanted to find a straight razor and a blowtorch, one to slice, one to cauterize the cut. Whatever pain the rapist now experienced was not enough.
"A delivery man will bring DVDs to both you and Tonya Evans tomorrow." Philip Reynolds smiled reassuringly. "It will include edited video and the patient files."
"Can I interview the victims?" Anne pictured an Emmy on her desk.
"The Rainbow Warriors will first see to their treatment." He shrugged as he shook his head. "However, there is no place on this planet where Arlington will be able to hide from you."
"How can I do that?"
"Your phone will have this new app, Find the Fuck." Philip stood, and handed her a computer pad.
"Ouch!" Anne quickly changed the pad to her other hand. "I think it bit me."
"That would be an interesting security feature." He tapped the app. A map of North America zoomed to show Three Forks Montana, a blue circle surrounded the doctor's home. "I'll walk with you back to the transporter room." He led her out of his office. "By the way, there are some things you won't be able to talk about."
Clem and Linda took the transporter pad back to the Suburban. She drove around to the Wonder Bread truck. Once Clem started the engine, Linda led him back to the main parking lot. They left the truck running, blocking the parking lot entrance. Two minutes later, they stopped behind the abandoned semi. Clem hopped out and retrieved the transporter pad lying in the ditch. Eight minutes later, the two surplus vehicles burst into flames.
Two and a half hours into the drive, they pulled into an industrial center. The AI verified that they were not followed. Lynn pulled the truck up the ramp into the shuttle. Once the Suburban was secured, they lifted toward the moon.
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