Boston Blood: The first Frank McKenzie Thriller (17 page)

He falls down once again, shaking in pain; his head hits a puddle of water on the floor. He chokes on it, trying to lift his head up to draw breath. He tries again, but feels as if someone is holding his head down,
drowning him
. He forces himself up but it thrown straight back into the puddle, the force of the blow is tremendous and cuts his eyebrow open, blood is trickling out, the taste of copper in the water, is now in his mouth. He manages to force his head up and gasp for air, but again is pushed back down into the water. He screams, the force of the scream ignites bubbles in the puddle, he pushes one last time, this time he manages to free himself from the unworldly grip. His head bursts out of the water, soaking wet as he looks around the dingy warehouse, no one in sight. He breaths deeply and staggers up. His face is dripping, as he breaths, his breath is visible in the air, like breathing in a freezer. He looks around again and notices nothing out of the ordinary. He looks down at the puddle and sees his reflection. A blood droplet falls gently from his check and lands in the crescent of water. A small ripple bursts in the puddle, washed with a tint of red. He looks deeper into the sheen and sees nothing. No reflection, nothing, just pure black. He snaps out of his daze and looks around. He walks over to the shelves and grabs another gun. He pulls the hammer back and aims down the sights. He strafes from left to right, making his way through the dark warehouse. He sweeps the immediate area and moves on deeper into the seemingly empty building. He makes his way to a section near the entrance of the warehouse.  He hears a noise, similar to a pin drop, a noise that is very familiar to Frank, the sound of a shell casing hitting the floor. He ducks behind a massive pylon like structure next to the door, the light switches just above his head. He hits it and the lights go off. He hears a crash, like someone knocking into something.

‘Damn it’ the voice says quietly.

Frank grabs his torch and turns it on. He puts the torch in left hand while holding the gun in his right. He moves forward and spots a person slowly moving away from an overturned trash can. The person doesn’t spot Frank. Frank squeezes the hand grip of his gun tightly as he slowly makes his way towards the intruder. A mere foot away he cocks his gun for effect and places the cold barrel of the weapon on the back of the person’s neck, making the shadowy figure stop dead in his tracks.

‘Freeze dirt bag!’ Shouts Frank

‘Frank?’ Asks the man

Frank turns the man around and shines the torch in his face. It’s the DA, Eddie Smith.

‘Eddie, what the hell are you doing here?’

‘I was going to ask you the same question Frank’

‘Well I’m sorry to disappoint you Eddie but I’m not taking any questions at this time’

Sixty Two

The year 2006: SIX YEARS BEFORE BOARDING THE TRAIN

Flowers commemorate the entrance to the campus of the Boston High school. Students stand in seldom silence as people continue to lay flowers and ribbons on the campus lawn. A mass of media outlets and news crews are strewn across the entrance of the school overlooking the flowers and students. Sandra Austin is standing on the spot just in front of the school’s Football team sign. She looks at Mike who is signalling her with a five finger countdown,
Five, Four, Three, Two, and One.

‘High school teacher Maggie Gardener was found brutally murdered in her home last night. Neighbours complained about a so called ruckus in the early hours of the morning in which Boston PD responded. They arrived on the scene in which her front door was unlocked and open. They walked in and found a horrific scene in which blood was found in nearly every room of the house. They drew their weapons and searched the house for any sign of a body. They found Mrs Gardener on her bed brutally beaten. She was pronounced dead on the scene. The police have just informed us that the teachers’ cause of death was asphyxiation. They have also told us that they suspect the woman was raped after her death. At this moment there are no leads on any suspects. The only thing certain about this case is that Mrs Gardener will be missed by many. As you can see behind me, students and faculty members are paying their respects. Over seven hundred bouquets of flowers have been delivered by hand. The principle has declined to comment on the situation stating and I quote “This is a troubling time for us all, I would rather not comment on such a heinous crime, I will leave the character and resolve of the teachers and students to speak for themselves.” It’s obviously a sad day here in Boston, millions around the country are showing their respects for the decorated teacher who by herself, has lifted a countries standards in teaching, She has won many achievements in her career and was considered one of the more valuable members of the school board. Her mark on teaching will be missed.

This is Sandra Austin reporting live from Boston High.’

Sixty Three

The TV in the incident room flickers back into life as an officer hits the AV button. The screen focuses in and the familiar site of Connor Chase appears on the screen. He is dressed in his white tux; this one seems to be cleaner than the other one, likely a switch.

Chief Shaw is watching on as he turns to the group of officers surrounding him.

‘Who has time to switch tuxedos? I’ve been wearing this cheap suit for nearly two days’ He says, the surrounding officers concurring with nods of their heads.

Shaw looks on intently at the TV screen as it flickers the images of oppression brought by Chase and his men who are standing in formation holding automatic weapons. Shaw thinks how stereotypical an image he is witnessing, the essence of terrorism brought by a group of men who claim to be patriots. The speech begins as Chase enters the shot, his follower’s onscreen part ways much like a crowd giving way to the pope. The importance of the man is evident in the loyalty and brotherhood that is seen in the eyes of the men wearing balaclavas. Chase is the only man whose face is visible, a fact that has been gnawing at Shaw for some time. A man that is not afraid to be associated with the events in Boston. A man that is not afraid to die for his cause.

‘Ladies and gentleman, I’m here once again to bring you, the public some troubling news. News that not only shows the corrupt scattering for the hills, but the brave being sacrificed by the so called good. Where I come from, no man is equal. That is a fact. That being said we all like to think that we are of equal ability and status in this messed up world. That too
is a lie
. You may be wondering, where is this place you talk of. The place where no one is equal? Well my fellow people, its America. I am an American. Not by choice, because god knows, this country is hell bent on making choices for me, such as where I will go to war, who I can marry. Which sex I should be intimate with. What movies I should watch. What adverts I should see. What president I should obey. What laws I should abide by. Not one of these things is a good thing. In this country we have learned to bite our tongue, obey the rich and do their bidding. If they want a new holiday home, we pay for it through taxes. If I want a new holiday home, I must dream on because I know that the government will cut my wages, and every one else’s wages in the public sector before they give me a pay rise. This here isn’t about money though, that’s not why I have come here to speak about. Yes there are many problems in America, and I, Connor Chase plan on addressing them as the time comes nearer. Today’s problems are our future children’s obstacles. This 28
amendment that I am installing is not one only derived for people’s privacy, its one for the people. It’s the amendment that gives us American citizens the power again, the power that this government has confiscated. It’s because of hard working Americans that they can sell our information, use our information and bargain and burden our lives. It’s because of hard working Americans they can spend billions on wars and so called global missions of peace. It’s hard working Americans that pay for the wages of hard working police, fire department and hospitals. It’s because of this government that all three of these vital commodities are in danger. It’s because of this Government that an undercover cop
will die today
.’

Shaw’s face whitens as Connor grabs a man into view, wearing a bag over his head, his identity is not certain to anybody, apart from Shaw. Connor smiles as he pulls the white sack from over the unidentified man’s head. It’s Nathan.

‘This is here is Nathan. I am not sure if it’s his real name or just his undercover one. I’m pretty sure it’s not his real name, but that’s beside the point. It’s what Nathan is doing here that tickles my funny bone.’ Says Chase while sadistically tickling Nathan’s elbow

‘Now I’m going to ask you a few questions Nathan is that okay?’

Nathan nods his head, the sweat on his forehead strobing on the TV screen

‘Okay, good to know your cooperative. Let’s get down to this.’

Nathan nods once again, visibly in shock of the current situation he finds himself in.

‘Are you an undercover cop Nathan?’

Nathan nods

‘No, I asked you a questions boy, you will have the decency to answer me!’ Demands chase, his tone ever more aggressive.

‘Yes I am an undercover cop, special forces to be precise.’

‘Oh, Boston SWAT. A man of skill indeed, no wander we snapped you up, you certainly have the credentials. Why are you undercover here then Nathan?’

‘I was assigned to this detail to monitor you as an individual, we suspected you of being a radical, or militia leader.’

‘Oh, that’s pretty accurate then, I am a leader but I wouldn’t say this is a militia. Now I’m going to ask you one final question, who is the bad guy in this scenario, me or the government who put you here with no back up and no weapons.’

Nathan swallows hard as he digests the question, the urgency of the situation ever increasing as Chase hovers over him, Desert Eagle in hand, pressed against Nathans scull.

‘Times ticking away boy’ Says Chase while mimicking looking at a watch. The room goes silence as Chase cocks back the hammer and presses down on the trigger. The impact of the shot at close range rag dolls Nathans head as half of his face implodes from the impact of the deafening shot. His lifeless corpse slides out of view leaving a bloody smear on the wall next to the remains of his head. Connor smiles while whipping down the stainless steel of his barrel, he throws a candid wave at the camera as it goes black. The TV screen erupts with static white noise as Shaw looks on in disbelief.

‘Shit’ Says Shaw garnering the attention of his fellow officers.

‘Do you know who that was?’ Asks one of the officers

‘Yeah its Frank’s brother, Adam.’

Sixty Four

‘What the hell are you doing here Eddie? Haven’t you got a city to protect?’ Asks Frank, sparking up a cigarette as he pats Eddie down for a concealed weapon, Eddie shakes his head as he relaxes once Frank has stopped frisking. Both men look at each other intently before Frank flicks a cigarette at him. Frank extends his arm and lights it.

‘So are you going to answer me?’ Asks Frank who’s visibly growing more impatient, jittering his hands at his sides, ash sprinkling off his cigarette.

‘I am wondering the same thing Frank. What are you doing here all kitted up like you’re going to war or something’

‘That’s exactly where I’m going Eddie. I’m going to war with that son of a bitch. He killed all those innocent people and slaughtered Tasha like an animal. I liked her; she was the first person who gave me more than a stale look. The first person to ask how I was feeling and not mean “
Are you up for the job
”’

Eddie moves in closer, taking a seat on a lopsided crate next to Frank. Frank remains standing awkwardly as he beams his sight down to the visibly tired District Attorney Eddie Smith.

‘Look Frank, we need you back to headquarters…’

‘I know what you’re going to say, I’m not having none of it Eddie. Its bullshit, the whole thing is bullshit. You can’t just take me off a case and then expect me to run back into action blindly. First you guys ring me up yesterday, begging me to come back after I was sent home to “
cool off
”. I’m not playing these games any more. If you guys aren’t going to make a move on that ass hole Chase, then I will just have to see to his demise myself.’

‘We are going to make a move on him, that’s why we need you. Shaw has said that he wants you back in the field. He says he needs you to get the job done.’

Franks smiles at Eddie who is staring a hole into him, his cigarette is illuminating the surrounding warehouse clutter with a tint of fiery orange.

‘Bullshit! That guy is a complete moron. All he’s interested in is making my life hell. He has been nothing but condescending to me since this whole escapade has started.’

Frank goes silent as he clicks some thoughts around in his head.

‘I know why you’re asking me to come back. That dirt bag Connor is threatening to blow some hostages to high heaven, isn’t he?’

Eddie nods his head; taking one last drag on his cigarette he discards it. He stands up and squares off to Frank, looking at him as he cracks a stern shake of his head.

‘Look Frank, enough of this bullshit. You know you’re just swinging a game here. I know you like I know my right hand on a cold and lonely night. You’re going to play this game for as long as I’m willing, truth is I can’t be asked to go through these hoops of yours. If you’re going to come back then I suggest you hurry up and make up your damn mind.’

Frank smiles at Eddie, relieving some of the tension in the room.

‘Yeah you know me, Super Detective Frank McKenzie. “
There for the public when I’m not high or contemplating blowing my own head off
”’.

‘That’s pretty dark Frank, seeing how you’re an emotional wreck whose addicted to pain pills and horse tranquilisers, its better coming from you then me’.

‘Speaking off how well you know me, how did you know I’d be here?’