NOTE: After the exclusion of Tom Card in the series (he has died), I created a new superior officer for Michael. I named him John Blade.
August 25, 2012
At his mother's home, Michael helped Madeline finish cleaning her kitchen. Madeline put away a plate and looked at her son.
"Is the raid tomorrow?," Maddie asked.
"Yeah, we have all the evidence we need and Jesse has done a great job undercover there," Michael said. "He was able to get to every corner of the house, except the attic. That was locked and they refuse to let anyone there. He said that Hannah does go to the attic once a day for only a few moments with a paper shopping bag and come back without it. We don't know what is there or what she takes there."
"Maybe she has pets or something," Maddie suggested.
"I don't know, Mom," Michael said. "I don't think that's it. She's hiding something there."
"Be careful, Michael," Maddie said.
"Always," Michael smiled with a wink. "Don't worry. Whatever is in that attic, I don't think it's anything to be concerned about. Probably just a pet that her husband wouldn't let her have. A small dog or a rabbit or something. It is a big attic, almost another floor."
"Somebody may be living there," Maddie said.
Michael shook his head.
"I don't think so," Michael replied.
"Haven't you seen 'Flowers in the Attic' or read the book?," Maddie asked.
"I don't have time for either movies or books," Michael said. "Know what the most recent movie I saw? 'The Breakfast Club' when it was new in the theaters."
"It's about a mother and a grandmother who kept four children locked in a bedroom with access to a large attic," Maddie said. "The children were two teens and there were two younger kids. They were never allowed out of that room or attic."
"That's fiction, Mom," Michael reminded her. "Trust me, this is an animal or some plants, maybe some fish."
"I do hope that's all it is," Maddie said. "Still, be careful. This family is using their own kids to do their dirty work. They'll be messed up, thinking they can ignore laws that they dislike."
"The parents have been doing that since all three were born," Michael said. "The youngest is fifteen now and always gets into trouble at school, when she even goes to school. The mother's entire family, except for one brother, has been involved in criminal behavior. Most of them started their behavior before kindergarten. Hannah Russell had an older brother, Rodney, who decided not to be that way. He joined the Navy, became a SEAL, and later died during a rescue attempt. He had a daughter, but Jesse said that Hannah told him that she committed suicide a few years later. We don't know if that's true."
"What if that family killed her?," Maddie asked.
"We thought of that," Michael said. "Once, I thought that the body was what they're stashing in the attic and that the items being carried upstairs were to combat the smell. But Jesse got a glimpse of one grocery bag that Hannah had. It had bottled water in it. So, that makes me think that whatever is in the attic is something alive. It's a pet or some plants. I am sure of that."
Michael picked up his car keys. "I'll see you later, Mom," he said as he walked towards the door. "It will be fine. Just wait and see."
"Let's hope it's not poison ivy in that attic," Maddie said, positive that there was something there that Michael was not going to like.
Michael met with the team and then drove the van to the large two-storey-plus-attic house. The team burst through the door and quickly began to arrest the occupants of the house. Hannah immediately started running for the back door. Michael and Jesse hurried after her. She was indeed fast, but she was not able to jump the chain-link fence that separated her yard from the alley behind her home.
"On the ground," Jesse ordered as Hannah slowly gave up.
"I got her, Mike," Jesse said. "Go back in and search that attic. She keeps the key in a collector tin under her bed."
Michael darted to the bedroom upstairs. He dropped to his knees, looked under the bed, and found an ugly collector tin that had once had candy in it. He opened it, got the key, and stood up. He climbed the narrow staircase that led to the attic door and unlocked it. He could hear a scuffling sound.
"Let's go," a male voice behind Michael said. He looked back to see that Blade had found him. "You're not going alone," Blade said.
Guns in-hand, Michael and John cautiously entered the attic.
As Michael and John walked through the large attic, they heard a scuffling again and metal clanking.
"It has to be an animal," Michael whispered to John. "A dog or something."
John went one direction while Michael went into the other direction. There was very little light in the attic and it was moderately dusty and somewhat clean. It was cleaner than most attics, telling Michael and John that it was indeed being used for something alive.
Michael walked towards an area where he could see some sunlight shining through the window. He stepped around a stack of crates and boxes. What he saw froze him.
"Oh, my god," Michael said under his breath. He put away the gun and waited, not knowing what to do. "John," he called. "You need to get over here."
John walked over and was also stunned.
Cowering into the corner was a woman, chained at the ankle like a slave. The entire corner of the attic was a messy living space. A small metal bed with a blanket and a pillow was against one wall. Dirty dishes and trash were everywhere. Roaches and ants were also all over the place. The woman's clothes were dirty and her hair looked like a brown chia pet. Her dark brown eyes stared at the agents as she whimpered, sobbed, and kept trying to back away. It was as if she were trying to go right through the wall.
"Could she be Lantana Kempton?," Michael asked, mostly to himself.
Michael stepped closer to the woman. She made a shrieking whimper, squeezed tighter against the wall, and stared at Michael in complete terror. Several times, she spoke only one word: "No."
"Michael, back off," John said. "We'll get paramedics here."
"Something tells me that she won't be too welcoming to anyone at all, including paramedics, John," Michael said as he backed away. "Tell Jesse to get some bolt-cutters. We'll get that shackle off her leg."
Once the shackle was cut, Lantana retreated to the farthest area of the attic and once again cowered into the wall. Michael approached her, but was still too careful not to get too close. He knelt in front of her.
"Lantana, we are not here to harm you," Michael said. "I want to help you. Let us help you." He paused as she closed her eyes and buried her face into her knees. Michael stood up and walked away a little as Jesse found him.
"Hey, Mike," Jesse said. "I found these. It looks like they're Lantana's journals. There are three entries after the death and then it stops. But, I saw something here that may help us. You may have some trouble, though." He opened one journal. "On every entry, she has this at the bottom." Jesse handed a journal to Michael and pointed at a sentence written at the bottom.
Michael read the sentence aloud, "If you cannot trust a Navy SEAL, you cannot trust anyone." He looked at Jesse.
"Sam is a SEAL and he can prove it," Jesse said. "She may let him help her out of here."
"No," Blade said before either man could ask.
"That woman won't let anyone touch her," Jesse said. "She'll trust Sam. Let him help her, off the record."
"It's not a CIA thing," Michael said. "It's a woman who needs help and needs somebody she trusts." Michael took out his phone and dialed. "I'm calling him, John," he said. "I don't care what you do. That woman needs help. And she needs it now." He stepped away. "Sam, I need your help."
Blade stood and stared at Michael, shaking his head with a stern expression on her face. He reminded Michael of an upset parent as a child was deliberately disobedient right in front of them. Michael just looked at him, knowing he was right.
Moments later, Sam arrived. He had a page-sized photograph of himself in his hand. Michael handed him a page-sized photo of Lantana's father. Both photos were Navy-issued and each man in the full Navy uniform. Michael thought those would come in handy.
"Just don't rush her," Michael said. "We believe she's been locked in that attic for around twenty years. She's afraid of every person she sees. Don't touch her. That freaks her out the most."
"Got it," Sam replied. He followed Michael to the attic, where Jesse was standing just inside the door.
"She's still in that far corner," Jesse said, pointing. "She's not in good shape at all. Be careful, Sam. One wrong move, she will shut down completely."
Sam walked cautiously towards the far corner. Lantana was still curled up with one side against the wall. She stared at her ratty old shoes, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. She ignored Sam as he sat down on the floor near her.
"Hey, Lantana," Sam said. "Name's Sam."
Lantana glanced at Sam, but did not reply. She looked back at her shoes. Her long dark-brown hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, allowing Sam to see that she had a hearing aide in her ear. She had very dark brown eyes and was average build, not fat and not thin. Sam could see that she had a few scars on her arms, but could not figure out what had caused them. They looked like cigarette or cigar burns. She had a small scar on her cheek that looked to be from a ring that a person could have been wearing when they hit her.
"It's OK," Sam said. "You don't have to talk to me. I'm not a cop. I'm not with the CIA or FBI or any of these other people. My friend asked if I could help and I came right over."
Sam watched Lantana as she continued to stare at her shoes and never make a sound or even acknowledge that he existed at all.
"Your father was Navy, right?," Sam asked. "A SEAL?"
Lantana looked at him, but still said nothing.
"Look what they found," Sam said. He set the photo of Lantana's father on the floor so she could see it. "Rodney Fletcher Kempton, right? I talked to a Navy friend of mine about him. He said your dad was a great SEAL and very devoted to that and to you."
Lantana stared at the photo. "Dad," she whispered.
"Your father taught you right," Sam said. "He said you can always trust SEALs. That's true. I would have taught my kid the same thing if I had any." Sam set the photo of himself next to the photo of Rodney.
Lantana looked at it. She then looked at Sam. "You're a SEAL?," she asked, barely loud enough to hear her.
"Retired," Sam said. "Look here." He pulled up his right sleeve so she could see the tattoo. "Your dad had this, too, I bet."
Lantana nodded.
"Your name is Lantana, right?," Sam asked, seeing that she was listening to him now.
"Yes," Lantana said. "I was named after my parents' honeymoon place. The lantana is a flower that grows in Australia, mostly Sydney. But they felt Sydney was too common."
Sam smiled. "Well, good thing they didn't come to Miami," he said. "They might have named you Starfish or Dolphin."
Lantana managed a smile.
"Those would have been a weird names," Sam went on. He pointed at nothing next to him and said, "This is my daughter, Dolphin" as if he were introducing an imaginary friend.
Lantana smiled again. "What's going to happen to me now?," she asked as her smile faded. "Am I going to jail? I haven't done anything."
"We all know that," Sam said seriously. "They are the ones going to jail. You're a victim, Lantana. We're going to help you, not lock you up like a criminal."
Lantana sighed.
"Will you let me help you out of this attic?," Sam asked.
Lantana stared at him.
Sam got up into his knees and reached both hands out to Lantana. "Come on, Lantana," he said. "Let's get you out of this place. You shouldn't be locked up like this."
Lantana stared at Sam's outstretched hands as he waited patiently.
"It's OK, Lantana," Sam said. "You will not be harmed. I promise you that. I'll stay with you as long as you need me to."
Lantana looked at Sam for another few seconds. She looked at his hands again. She then reached out slowly and took both his hands in hers. He gently pulled her to her feet.
5