The Following:
Peace, Love, and Happiness
Episode 5- Drastic Measures
Jeffery wore a stern and determined look on his face as he entered the prison visitation area. Using his badge, he made his way to the front office and then waited impatiently standing beside an overly talkative guards. It would take a few minutes until Dr. Strauss would be available.
The guard was going on about his joband family. The young man only had good intentions and was thrilled to have the job, but he was truly annoying. It seemed as if he didn't need to breathe as well as his words merged together. Thankfully though, he was able to tune him out. It definitely wasn't the nicest thing to do, but it was the only way not to hear what the guy was talking about.
He thought back to the moment when was shot in the cabin. He, Desmond, and Cruz went into the cabin thinking that they would leave with Mark in handcuffs. But instead he nearly left in a body bag. Desmond though, wasn't so lucky. Now Cruz had become one of the most wanted men.
When he went home later that night, his wife asked about the bruises. He was going to lie, but since the incident was already on the news, he told her the truth. If it weren't for his vest, then he would have died. She tried to hide her fear for him, but he knew how she about his line of work. As respectable and important as it was, his life was constantly on the line. She prayed daily that he would return home safe and sound to his family at the end of every shift.
He told her that she shouldn't worry about him so much and that there were more important things to pay attention to, but he knew how silly that sounded. He was just trying to calm her nerves. Yet right after he was shot and he was laying there uncertain if he was dead or not, all he could think about was how he would never see his family again. He had completely forgotten that that he was wearing a vest the whole time.
"Agent Clark?" He heard a voice call out to him.
Jeffery looked to see a young officer approach. They shook hands, before she motioned for him to follow her. He followed her silently to the usual place where convicts were either questioned by law enforcers or lawyers. He was about to enter when the officer reached out to him. He looked at her confused.
"I heard about what happened back in the cabin," She said looking at him apologetically, "I am sorry."
"Thanks," He was confused.
"The cameras are off for this one," She said motioning with her head toward Dr. Strauss who was handcuffed to his chair. He was staring off into space with a faraway look.
"What are getting at?" He asked even though he knew what she was telling him. He wanted to hear her say it clearly, just so there would be no issues if the situation did arise.
"This guy is an asshole," She said emotionally, "My brother was murdered by Joe and his fanatics at the coffee shop incident a little bit ago," She glared at Dr. Strauss. "I want that son of a bitch to feel a fraction of the pain that my family has gone through."
"I'm so sorry," He said looking at her with care.
"Thanks," She said with a small shrug. "Well you have five minutes, that is all I can give you."
With that Jeffery turned and entered the room. Dr. Strauss looked up at him with a fake smile on his face. "Agent Clark, what a surprise," He said licking his dry lips. "You look well."
"Dr. Strauss," Jeffery mocked him. He took a seat across from him. "It seems prison has taken its toll on you."
Dr. Strauss gave him an odd look. "There is something different about you this time," He said leaning forward in his chair. He rested both arms on the table, just as far as the chains allowed him to go. "I can't exactly put my finger on it, but it seems as if you have a dark patch on your shoulder."
"I know you are aware of the few murders that have occurred all in the name of Joe," Jeffery began. He set the files of the victims and opened them up removing a picture of each one at the crime scene. "How many more protégés did you have beside Joe?"
Dr. Strauss began to chuckle. "I am locked up," He said shaking his head. "I don't know of any murders."
"I doubt that," He said looking at him seriously. "Now answer my question."
"You know I can give you fake names," Dr. Strauss said with a tantalizing grin, "And you won't know until you leave here today. Then you will come back asking me again and again I could give you more fake names." He raised his arms in a questioning way, before setting them down again. "It is a vicious cycle."
"You are testing my patience here," Jeffery said rubbing his temples. "Answer my question."
"What are you going to do?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. "If you do, my lawyer will hear of it."
The image of Desmond dead on the floor in the cabin came to his mind. His wide eyed look of shock with a bullet wound in the head was engraved in his mind. Next he saw the funeral where he was watching Desmond's mourning family throughout the priest's entire eulogy.
"Screw your lawyer," He mumbled fed up.
"What?"
Jeffery ignored the question. He suddenly saw red and grabbed Dr. Strauss by the index finger. He bent it back until a loud crack was heard. Dr. Strauss cried out loudly in pain and then soon began to laugh crazily. He then grabbed the middle finger and did the same thing.
"Stop these games," Jeffery ordered. "Or I will break all your fingers and you won't be able to even wipe your own sorry ass."
"I want my lawyer," Dr. Strauss said. He was breathing heavily. "Get me my lawyer."
"Your lawyer doesn't want anything to do with you," Jeffery lied. He hoped to stir him up. "He just wants you to rot in prison, which you are already doing."
Dr. Strauss began to openly laugh at him. "You have changed," He said tsking him as he wagged his finger in a taunting manner. "I now can see it in your eyes." He placed his aching hands on his lap. "How does it feel? That tingle of excitement as you take control of the situation by lashing out and accepting your anger."
"Two fingers down," Jeffery pointed out, "Eight more to go and I may even take a toe or two."
"Now that is more like it," Dr. Strauss said with a smile. "Give in to the anger."
Jeffery looked at his watch. He didn't have much time left. "So what can you tell me about your other protégés?" He asked closing his folders.
"Joe was my only student," He answered with a pained smile.
"You are lying," Jeffery said leaning forward in his chair. He stared at him coldly trying to get under his skin.
"Maybe I am and maybe I am not," He said with a laugh. He shrugged his shoulders playfully. "You never know."
Jeffery cursed and stood up shoving the chair backward. It fell over with a loud clang. He quickly approached a surprised Strauss and decked him in the face as hard as he could. Strauss laughed loudly and then spit out blood on to the table. Jeffery punched him again, this time in the eye.
"Man you got some strength in you," Dr. Strauss said continuing to laugh.
At that moment the door opened and in walked the young guard. "Time's up," She said looking at Jeffery who was standing a few feet away breathing heavily.
"Too bad," Dr. Strauss said with another shrug. "Now I can't tell you what I have in this brain here." He tapped his head playfully. "Time's up."
Jeffery relaxed his fist and was surprised when the young guard socked him in the face, breaking his nose. "That was for my brother dammit," She cursed him.
With that, she motioned for other guards to take him back to the cell. Before he left, he made kissing sounds to the young guard. She turned away from him. "Did you get anything?" She asked after he left.
"Nothing at all," Jeffery said with a sigh. He massaged his sore wrist. "Just a bunch of gibberish."
Scott Thompson turned on the sink water and began to wash his face. He dried it with a hand towel and then neatly hung it on the wall to dry. He turned off the light and then made his way to the kitchen, where his wife was busy making lunch. She was humming a tune to go along with an infomercial on the TV.
"Smells delicious," He said taking a diet coke from the fridge. "What is on the menu for today?"
Carla looked at her husband and smiled. "Penne vodka and garlic bread," She said kissing him on lips briefly. "You smell good." She notice his knew aftershave.
"Smooth as a baby's bottom," He said running a finger along his freshly shaved face.
"You look better without any facial hair," She said turning back to the sauce. She stirred it so it wouldn't burn. "I hate the sandpaper feel."
"Same here," Scott said opening the can. He sipped it watching his wife cook. "If I had the time, I would shave every other day as opposed to almost twice a week."
"You do have the tame baby. It is just you are damned lazy," She looked at him and winked playfully.
The sports segment of the news came and the topic was of Tony Gwynn's passing. He was fifty-four years old and died of cancer. They spoke about his history of the game, how he loved it, and everyone loved him, whether family, teammate or just a fan.
"Class act," Scott said shaking his head. "The baseball world has lost a hero today."
"Did you ever see him play?" Carla asked looking at the TV for a few moments.
"Yeah I did," Scott said taking a seat at the kitchen table. He turned up the volume of the TV that was hung on the wall. "Back in 1998 when the Yankees and the Padres were playing against each other in the World Series."
"Oh right," She said, "I remember how excited you were about going to the game."
"Of course I would be," Scott said his eyes glued to the TV. They were showing some highlights of his prestigious career. "It is the World Series."
"You and your sports," Carla rolled her eyes.
At that moment, Scott saw two figures slowly moving around outside. They were peering at his house as if studying it intently. Both of them read bad news immediately. Upon closer inspection, he saw one of them was a male, and another a female. They began to approach the house and one of them pulled out a gun.
"Carla," Scott said standing up slowly. He kept his eyes on the two of them outside. "We have company."
"We do? I wasn't expecting anyone?" She asked looking outside.
"It is not of the friendly sort," He said reaching underneath the table to grab a gun he had hidden there. He cocked it and then looked at his wife. "Go hide."
Carla, without a second thought, turned off the stove and oven and then ran to the bedroom. She made her way into the bathroom and closed the door. She locked it and then sat in the bathtub with a ball of fear growing in her stomach.
Scott looked back outside and didn't see any of them. He cursed and held his gun ready as he slowly and cunningly made his way to the front of the house. He approached the front window and peered outside, but didn't see anything. There was no one outside, except for a stray dog sniffing a plant across the street. As if it could sense Scott, the dog looked at him for a few seconds, before deciding the outside was more important. It trotted away looking for more adventures.
Scott stepped away from the window and was suddenly greeted with a swift kick in the gut. He dropped his gun and fell to the floor. Another kick came at his head, but he grabbed the foot and flipped the unknown assailant over. He heard a thud and saw it was the female who first pulled out her gun. She looked at him with a glare as he reached for his gun.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the man that came with the woman. He had a gun pointed at him. "Drop your weapon," The man snarled. He took a dangerous step toward Scott.
Scott hesitated for a moment, before he tossed the gun on the floor.
"Good job. So the FBI aren't dumb asses after all," The man said with a laugh. "Now kick it aside." He took another step toward him and motioned with his gun.
Scott kicked it aside. "What do you want?" He asked trying to suppress his anger and anxiety.
"You," The woman simply said. She took his gun and then pointed it at him. "Imagine me shooting you with your own gun. How poetically perfect that sounds." She chuckled and then looked at the man. "Tim go and see if there is someone else here. I can deal with this here."
"Are you sure?" He asked looking at Annabelle confused.
"Just go," She ordered keeping her eyes on Scott.
"What do you guys want?" Scott asked worried that Tim would find his wife in the bathroom.
"We need your help," She said with a smile before taking a threatening step toward him. "Now until my friend comes back here, I need you to go there and sit." She motioned for him to the couch by the TV and electric fireplace.
Scott held back a smile. He had another gun hidden there below the couch. All he needed to do was reach it and then shoot her before he went for Tim. He sat down while keeping an eye on her. She kept a strong and confident composure as she waited for her friend to return. But he was taking too long. She looked at the clock on the wall, knowing that they were here far longer than they wanted.
Scott took this as cue and reached for the gun. He knew it was loaded as he pointed it at her. His sudden movement caused her to shout at him and fire. She missed, striking the TV cracking the screen. He fired at her, striking her in the shoulder. She went down moaning. He approached her and grabbed his gun as well as her other gun. "I will be back for you," He said debating if he should handcuff her or not. He was taking a gamble, but his wife was more important.
Scott made his way his bedroom and as soon as he passed the kitchen, he saw Tim running downstairs eagerly. He saw Scott and shot at him. He missed Scott, the bullet imbedding itself in the wall. Scott aimed and shot him, catching him in the stomach. Tim cried out and collapsed. He fell down the rest of the stairs striking his head roughly in the process.
Scott stepped up to him and saw blood oozing out of the bullet wound and a thin stream of blood leaking out of his head wound. He knew that this man would not be going anywhere any time soon. He returned to the living room to see his door wide open and Annabelle driving off. He cursed and ran outside. He aimed at the tires, but didn't have a shot. He was able to make out half the license plate.
CRZYB...
He made his way back into his house and handcuffed Tim to the stairs banister. He made sure it was locked before he made his way to the bedroom. He knocked on his bathroom door and called out to his wife, telling her it was safe to come out. She opened the door and then leaped into his arms, hugging him tightly. She kissed him deeply, glad that he was not hurt.
"Who were they?" She asked after they broke apart.
"I don't know," He said shaking his head. "Bad news is all I could tell you." He let go of her and then called for backup. After the call he turned to his wife and said, "I suggest you go stay by your sister's for a while. At least until this blows over."
"And what will you be doing?" She asked knowing that he was right. It was safer for her there.
"I have work to do," He said with a stern and determined look.
Simon and Garfunkel's song Sound of Silence played in the background, as molly sipped from a large glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. Her eyes were shut and she was deep in thought, almost as if in a hypnotic state. With every sip, she tried to enjoy it as much as she could.
She thought about what her plans for Ryan would be. Yes, she still wanted him dead and she wanted to be the one to do it. But to just go to New York and kill him, that would be too quick and easy. She wanted his death to mean something. She wanted him to feel the pain of death. But how would she do it?
She could kill off the rest of his family. From what she knew about him, there was his sister Jennifer and his niece Max. Jennifer was living somewhere in Colorado at the moment and would be easier to get to than Max who was living in New York. Jennifer was not nearly as trained as Max, so that was definitely an edge. If she got a hold of Jennifer then it would give her the edge she wanted. If not, then there was always Max.
She first met Joe at a college convention. It was his second year teaching and she was going through a rough patch in her life at the moment. With her bills adding up, she was wondering if the medical field was the right decision. Was she nurse material? Would all her hard work really help her fulfil one of her life long dreams or was she making a big mistake?
Joe listened as she poured out her soul to him. He seemed truly interested with what she was saying and it surprised her. Even her boyfriend at the time didn't do that. He would listen to her, but didn't seem as interested in what she had to say as much as Joe did. When she finished talking, Joe told her to continue with her education.
"Nothing is more important than following your dreams. If you don't, you will forever live with regret. Your struggles and doubts now will dig into you like thorns. But once the thorns pass, you will reach the stem that leads to the beauty of the rose."
Joe's words comforted her more then she realized. She took his words to heart and continued schooling. When she graduated, he went to the ceremony. Out of thanks, she invited him back to her place, but he told her that he was married.
They kept in touch throughout the years, giving each other advice. Joe then published his book, but the critics considered it as a flop. With its failure, he went crazy and began murdering young women that resembled the female protagonist in his book. She knew of the murders all along and kept her mouth shut. She owed him that much.
Molly heard a knock on the door. She opened her eyes annoyed not wanting to be disturbed. She wanted peace and quiet. "Come in," She said after a second knock.
The door opened up and in walked Tyler with a stern look on his face. "We need to talk," He said stepping up to her.
Molly sighed and stood up. "What is it?" She asked pretending to show interest.
"If I may be frank," He began, "You are becoming reckless. You are letting your emotional connection with Ryan to cloud your motives."
"I know exactly what I am doing here," She narrowed her eyes at him. "I have a set plan and am executing it exactly." She stepped up to him. "You have nothing to worry."
"For some reason I don't feel comforted by that," He said confidently.
Molly set her glass of wine on the glass table by the couch. "I'm sorry you feel that way," Molly said not meaning it. "But I am in charge of this."
Tyler ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. He turned away from her and began to pace. "I don't like what is going on here," He said looking at her with uncertainty. "And I feel you are being reckless."
"You don't get to talk to me like that," Molly threatened him.
"I care about you Molly," He said stepping up to her. He reached out to her, but she backed away from him.
Molly knew this would happen. They slept with each other a few times and he became attached. He was interested in her and she was not with him. She was able to see how much he liked her from the first time they hooked up. She just needed one night to release some stress.
"I'm flattered," Molly said frowning at him. "But you still don't get to talk to me that way." She took a step toward him. "I want Ryan dead. I want him to feel pain."
"So then why don't we just go and kill him?" He suggested, "The quicker we get it done, the quicker we put all this behind us."
"No, I don't want to do that," She shook her head. "That would be too easy, too meaningless." She took another step toward him. "I failed in killing Ryan the first time. I don't want to fail again."
"That is why I am suggesting that the both of us go there now and just kill him," He snapped fingers. "We could leave now."
Molly made a fist annoyed. She closed her eyes for a few seconds trying to control her emotions. She reopened them. "Why can't you just understand that I have a plan for Ryan," She said dangerously.
"Because your plan doesn't make sense," He said raising his voice a bit. "With neither Ryan or Claire dead and now Joe in prison, you have become more reckless with every passing day. That note you sent to Carrie was careless and could lead the FBI to our doorstep. Do you want that?"
Molly swiftly removed her pocket knife and flicked it open. She stabbed him in the stomach. "You don't get to make decisions here," She said ignoring his cry. She stabbed him again. "I don't care if we slept together and that you cared for me." She stabbed him again. "Plus you were not good in bed at all."
Tyler had a shocked look on his face as he collapsed on the floor. He reached out to her with a bloody and trembling hand, but she just pushed him aside. She stepped away from him and then looked at the blood on her clothes. "Damn," She said unhappily. "I liked this shirt."
Amable was about to pour himself a glass of scotch when there was a knock on his office door. He closed the bottle and then opened the door to see Annabelle standing there anxiously and covered in blood. He grew concerned immediately. "What happened?" He asked fearing the worst.
"I'm so sorry," She said her lip trembling.
"What happened?" He asked again knowing that the plan had failed.
"Tim and I went to go get Scott as planned, but he fought back and in the process Tim was shot," She said her voice on the verge of tears. "I failed."
"Shhh," Amable said giving her a hug. He didn't care that his shirt would become stained as well. "Those types of things happen. It isn't that big of a deal."
"But Tim is dead," She said sadly. A tear trailed down her cheek.
"I know and it is terrible," He said emotionally, "But we must move on." He cupped her chin. "Where is he now?"
"I was forced to leave him by the FBI's house," She said bitterly. "I'm sorry. I was scared and didn't want to die."
"It's okay," He said calmly. "You did the right thing back there. You did what you needed to do to survive."
Annabelle looked up at him confused.
"I am not saying that his death is nothing," He said teary eyed. "We lost a family member today and it is big. But he would not want us to sit here wallowing sadly while there is still so much work to do." He looked down at her wound. "Come on my dear, let me clean you up."
Annabelle was still confused with him. She was surprised that he didn't lash out at her. Tell her that she was a failure and never allow her on another mission. For a split second she even expected him to take her to the basement and kill her for failing. But she knew that wouldn't happen. It would be too extreme.
She removed her shirt wincing in pain as he grabbed the first aid kit. He told her to sit down on a chair as he put on reading glasses. "It's not that bad," He said as he inspected the wound. "It is just a flesh wound. The bullet went right through."
"Hurts like hell," She grumbled.
"Of course it does silly," He said cracking a small smile. He made his way to the sink and wet a wash cloth. "You got shot."
Amable began to clean the dry blood around the wound. The sudden pressure made her gasp and tense up. More blood began to trickle down her shoulder. When he was finished, he put the wash cloth in the garbage and then grabbed some antiseptic spray.
"Now this is going to hurt," He warned her. He began to spray all over the wounds.
"Son of a bitch," She cried out not expecting that much pain.
Amable wiped the extra antiseptic off her skin gently and then reached for a large bandage. He applied Neosporin cream as well. He applied two on either side of the shoulder. "Now I recommend you rest up and no sudden movement while your wound heals," He said with a loving smile. "Plus I want to clean and change your bandages daily."
"Thanks Papa," She said smiling at him. "I love you."
"I love you to my dear," He said kissing her on the forehead.
Amable watched Annabelle stand up and leave his office. He cleaned everything up and then put away the first aid kit in the office. He washed and dried his hands. "Time for a drink," He said returning to the bar.
He poured himself a double shot and drank it down as the fury inside him began to grow. He poured himself a second shot and then drank it down again. He felt the alcohol warming himself as it spread through his body. A blanket of numbness that did nothing to stop his anger, except amplify it. He wanted blood to be drawn. He wanted revenge and he would do whatever it takes to get it. No one messes his with his family. No one.
He poured himself a third shot. He raised the glass. "Agent Scott," He said as he eyed a picture of Tim he had on the wall above the bar. "I am going to bleed you dry." He downed the shot. "No one touches my family." He said angrily.
Hope you enjoyed! More to come!
shaw18