The Perfect Clone (25 page)

The girl didn’t reply.

Cara hadn’t expected her to. She moved over to the girl. “I’d like to take a look at your injury. Is that ok with you?”

Vicky nodded.

Cara pushed her hands into the surgical gloves that Jessie had dug out of the first aid kit. Using the same knife that she’d used for the slice and dice back in the drainage pipe, she cut the zip tie that bound Vicky’s hands, stood her up, and gently pulled the girl’s jacket off.

Luke fished around in the side pocket of his cargo pants and produced more zip ties which he used to rebind the girl’s hands and legs. No need to get kicked in the face. Gently pressing the girl back into her chair, Cara held the blade between her teeth and caught the bottled water Tank tossed her. Vicky whimpered when the cold water rushed over her bullet wound and soaked down the side of her shirt.

“The blood’s dry. If I don’t moisten it, the tissue will rip apart when I open up your shirt.” Cara sliced the tee from the neck hole above the shoulder to the end of the arm and peeled the fabric back, taking a look at both sides of her body.

“Vicky, have you ever seen what happens when someone gets shot?” Cara asked.

No reply.

“No? Well, frankly, not a whole lot. The bullet is generally a sterile object that is introduced into the body’s tissue. From what I can tell, there is an entry and an exit wound. Clean shot, doesn’t appear to have hit a bone or major artery. This is good news for you. The bad news is that the bullet appears to have pulled some of your clothing into the wound with it. Now whether or not pieces of that fabric are still in the wound, I have no way of knowing. What I do know is that fabric harbors bacteria and bacterium causes infection.”

Vicky angled her head to get a look at the injury. Tears rolled down her cheek as Cara continued her verbal assessment.

“If infection sets in I can only guess you’ll get gangrene and possibly lose your arm or die from the infection.” Cara nodded toward Ethan.

“Ethan is a great field medic and can assist you with preventing that. Would you like Ethan to help you?”

Vicky nodded her head as tears continued to stream down her face.

“I’d like that too, but first I need something from you. You know what I need Vicky?” Cara asked.

Rapidly shaking her head up and down Vicky responded, “Yes.”

“What do I want?” Cara felt kind of bad for the girl.

Vicky knew she was in way over her head. “Do you want to know why we took your friend?” Vicky asked.

“No. Why you took him is obvious. I want to know where I can find the person that gave the order. Can you give me that?”

Vicky didn’t reply.

Cara bent over to pick the damaged jacket up from the floor and handed it to Jessie. Tank walked up behind the girl and pressed down on top of the girl’s wounded shoulder, causing her to cry out in pain.

Cara saddled the chair sitting in front of her prisoner and frowned. “I want to know who cared so little about their own men or women, that they set them up to die. Who did you piss off so badly that they wanted you dead Vicky?”

“No one, these guys love me. They would never throw me away.” she exclaimed.

“But they did. They knew you would die tonight and yet they sent you out anyway. Let me guess, your leader is a cop?” Cara guessed.

Vicky couldn’t see the interrogator’s face through the flood of tears.

“No? He’s ex-military then?”

Vicky still didn’t respond.

“I know, he runs bingo at the local moose lodge and kidnaps people on the weekends.”

Ethan and Tank snickered.

Jessie held up his laptop and pointed to it.

“It seems that Jessie over there has run your personal info through his nifty little toy, and has found out who your parents are. All I need from you now, is for you to tell me where your leader is headquartered.”

The girl shouted though her sobs, “My family has nothing to do with this. I’m not telling you anything else.”

Cara inhaled deeply and released it. “I hate that, I really do. But now that we know who your dad is, it’ll be a walk in the park to set up surveillance and find his HQ.

“My dad isn’t a part of this. I swear it!”

“I was trying to play nice by offering you a way out. I wish you would have taken it. Tank, take her to the orange room and strap her up.”

When Tank got back from his errand the five members discussed their plans for surveillance.

“We don’t do prisoners Cara, what do you want to do with the girl?” Luke was the one to ask.

“Damned if I know. Let’s sit on it while we run stake out and see what happens. For all we know, she’s using a fake ID.”

Tank intervened. “I say we find out.” The men were unanimous in their agreement.

Jessie went down the hall and brought Jack to sit in the wing back chair. Luke strapped his ankles to the chair legs while Ethan tied his back to the chair. The man didn’t fight. Jessie stripped the tape from the man’s mouth and removed the hood.

“Would you like some water, Jack?” Cara downed some of her own while Jack answered.

“Yeah, I would.”

Opening a fresh bottle, Cara poured it over the hostage’s cracked lips as he fought to get as much as he could into his mouth.

“It’s nice when you come across someone in the field who has manners. I like that, Jack.”

Tank tossed Cara the wallet that Frank had pulled off the man back at the warehouse. Finding his driver’s license, Cara noted that it also listed him as Jack. “There was a girl working for you out in the field last night. What was her name?”

Jack’s voice cracked when he spoke. “Vicky. What have you done to her?”

“No worries buddy. We haven’t done anything yet. We’ve decided to let you make the decision on whether she lives or dies. It’s all up to good old Jack.”

“What do you want to know?” Jack didn’t flinch from Cara’s stare.

“Tell me where your headquarters are located and who heads it up.”

Jack thought he’d play the good old boy card. “Come on. You know I can’t tell you that. It’d be suicide.”

Cara palmed her blade and stuck it directly between Jack’s legs. “
Not
telling me what I want to know is suicide. I have a feeling you’ll answer all my questions.” She was right. After a few nasty jabs and slices on the burly man’s testicles, Jack sang like a bird.

Chapter 22

Richard entered the processing room with Matt fast on his heels as the first incoming van drove off the vehicle platform. When it came to sitting on the sidelines during a raid, Richard was not a patient man and he was ready to find out what the hell had happened out there. The two men watched as the hydrologic column slowly began the upward climb to retrieve its next load.

Dr. White, a Community physician was on hand, prepared to give medical care to any injured men.

The van came to a stop and Ben slid out from behind the driver’s seat. The rear doors swung open as the cleanup crew poured out from the cabin and headed straight for the locker rooms. The cleaners had a procedure to follow after an operation and they preferred to get straight to it.

Mr. Avery watched as Frank exited the van, nodded in his direction and then made his way over to Dr. White. The physician immediately went to work on the external injuries. X-rays would have to be done inside the facility. Ben slapped the wounded man on the back and walked over to where Mr. Avery watched with pride as his men returned from duty.

As Ben approached, Matt extended his hand in greeting and met the man half way. After a brief welcome home, Matt headed toward the first aid station to see about Frank.

Richard shook Ben’s hand, glad to have his crew back in one piece. “Longer clean up than usual?”

“I’d say. Hell of a mess our guys made back there. From what I could tell, it couldn’t be avoided. The rebels took a lot of causalities. Our boy over there, well, you can tell by looking at him. He took one hell of a beating during his stay; Frank’s one tough son of a bitch.”

Noise from the hydrologic post reverberated through the concrete as it settled in its position above them.

“What was their body count?” Richard wanted to know the facts first. He’d deal with the details later.

“There were twenty-two bodies in all and two live ones. Twelve men were inside with Frank and ten men were patrolling outside. Our guys came out unscathed, other than Frank over there.” Ben jerked his head in the direction of the first aid station.

Richard cast his eyes over that way to see Matt chatting Frank and the doctor up. Frank was laughing at something that had been said. Relief was written all over his face, while Dr. White’s face was set in stone, focused solely on his work.

“What type of weapons did you find during the cleanup?” Mr. Avery’s eyes were still focused on the trio at the first aid station.

The hydrologic lift began its downward decent, carrying the second van.

Ben rolled his shoulders to work out the stiffness that had set in. He was ready to ditch his gear and hit the showers. The coppery smell of blood that still lingered on his clothes and in his nostrils wasn’t an aroma he’d ever get used to. He supposed that was a good thing, but at the same time, the smell tainted his concentration. Lack of focus was not something you wanted to possess in the presence of the man standing before him. Mr. Avery had a reputation for kicking ass first and asking questions later. Ben was cautious. He didn’t want to tread on rocky ground with the boss man, so he made sure to stick to the facts.

“Just the typical home defense type stuff, nothing extraordinary or out of the norm. The rebels tried to booby trap the front and back doors of the warehouse with an elementary C4 set up. Other than that, it was basic back yard soldier stuff.”

“Did they have surveillance equipment set up to scan the perimeters of the warehouse?”

“No sir.” Ben always got nervous under Mr. Avery’s direct line of questioning. It made him feel like he was contestant on the game show,
Jeopardy
. If you got the answer wrong—buzz—you lost. At the same time it’s also what he respected most about the man. Mr. Avery was somebody you could learn from.

Richard cast his eyes back to Ben. “What about dogs? Did they have any?”

Ben’s answer was quick because it was something he’d been thinking about as well. Almost every cleanup he’d been on had rendered animal carcasses, but not this one. “No, they didn’t have anything of the sort. Not one dog. No alarms either. Just night guards placed throughout the woods. We didn’t even find two way radios or phones on those bodies, but we did pull identification off almost all of them.”

“And the bodies were disposed of in the usual way?”

Ben was a stickler when it came to procedures. “Yes sir. I pride myself on what I do. Clean as a whistle. No remnants.”

Richard smiled and shook Ben’s hand again, hitting the palm of his free hand on top of the man’s shoulder. “Thanks for the short debriefing. I’ll want to go over it with you again in more detail, but I imagine you’re ready for a hot shower. Good work, Ben.”

“Thanks Mr. Avery.” Ben held his head high as he beat a path to the locker room to join the others. He could hardly wait to rid his body of the stench.

Like a bus arriving at a drop off location and vomiting out its occupants, the second crew spilled out of the van and made their way directly to the locker room, eager to join the first. The cleanup, after the cleanup, took more than gloves and muscle. It required a bleaching of the soul.

Mr. Avery did not allow anyone to talk to the cleanup crew when they first returned from their missions. Ben was their point man, and he did the talking for them. The first few hours after they returned home, was their moment to re-center themselves. They needed the time to categorize and file whatever crap they’d had to deal with out in the field. More times than not, there was a lot to cope with. Ghosts of the dead didn’t always walk away. Sometimes they lingered behind and haunted the men who’d disposed of the corpses.

Richard waited until the last cleaner had made their way into the locker room and Dr. White was finished with Frank’s external exam, before walking over to the first aid station. “How is he Doc?”

Pulling a syringe from Frank’s hip, Dr. White looked up over the top of his round rimmed glasses. “I just pumped him full of antibiotics. His external exam doesn’t seem to indicate that anything’s broken, but I’ll need to get him inside for x-rays.”

Frank’s voice was strong. “I’m fine.” Turning to look at Mr. Avery, Frank made his plea for help. “Would you tell this old worry wart that I’m fine? I think I’d know if something was broken. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Matt pitched in. “Hold up cowboy. Let Doc have his moment. You know, as well as I do, Doc lives to pamper the tough types. You men don’t bring him enough injuries to keep him entertained, so you’ll have to play the injured patient role until he’s satisfied. Besides, you could use the rest.”

Frank stood up feeling defensive about his physicality. “I’ve had worse scratches on my eye ball.”

Both Matt and Richard found Frank’s back woods sense of humor amusing, but Mr. Avery wasn’t prepared to take chances with the health of one of his men. “I know that. You know that. It’s Doc here that you’ll have to convince. You’re an essential part of a team and I need to make sure you’re at one hundred percent. You will cater to him until he gives you a clean bill of health.”