CHAPTER 33: RETURN OF THE FREAK, PART 3
As the morning sun arrives in Hillwood, the day comes to an official beginning for its occupants. Waking from a long night of sleep, much of it needed from their busy days preceding before, and some of it merely wanted for leisure or relaxation, the citizens of Hillwood all come to their feet to start a new day in one way or another; some early birds to the worm, others night owls to pick their prey later.
The city is a melting pot, and it begins to boil intensely under the newfound challenges it has been faced with. Following an attack by the notorious gangster 'Little' Nicky Russotti, the National Guard has been deployed on the streets of Hillwood, declaring martial law in the city to bring about some semblance of peace to the large and bustling city.
The citizens do not know what will come in the following days, but they are most certain of this fact:
They do not feel safe anymore.
One place within Hillwood that tries to encourage and promote peace for a select few is the Hillwood Home for the Emotionally Troubled, mostly thanks to the efforts of the kind and caring Dr. Peyton Harvey Scott. While he would spend most of his first day on trying to hold a conversation with his patients, hoping to help them heal their broken minds to rejoin society and live fulfilling lives, he finds something new for him this day.
Following an experimental procedure on his most prioritized patient, Thaddeus 'Curly' Gammelthrope, better known to the world as 'The Freak', the aforementioned supervillain has had his full-body paralysis healed; leaving him able to walk again. What the others do not know is that this healing was attributed not to the surgery, but, instead, to a formula derived from the Green Eye's blood; giving them immeasurable powers.
The surgeon responsible for his spinal work, Dr. Ryan Yuzna, conducted a series of physical tests on his new patient, eager to see what movements and tasks he was capable of. Though his display of power last night was more than enough to prove his abilities, his multiple successes on the tests, parading around the room as if never injured, Dr. Yuzna still cannot help himself but come to surprise.
Under the watchful eye of Dr. Scott are these two at work; ensuring no more unethical experiments would become of the patient nor any more violations of his rights. A sense of patient/doctor privacy was preferred by the good doctor, but was not fulfilled, having a pair of policemen standing by the door.
"Officers, is it really necessary for you to stand there? The law ensures that I obtain privacy with my patient." Dr. Scott said.
"The law also says we need to stay on your boy like stink on shit now that he can walk again. After what he's pulled a year ago, no doubt he's gonna try to kill someone again. Besides, doesn't look like he's your patient right this moment." One officer said.
The officer and Dr. Scott looked to the Freak, taking notice of his constant and careful observation by Dr. Yuzna; the doctor appearing all the more excited by the minute in watch of his patient's abilities. To the doctor, nothing else seemed to matter any more in the world except what was being observed before him.
Finally, following a final walking test, walking a straight line without any need for help of support bars or lifts, the Freak had completed the last of his tests; officially leaving room for Dr. Yuzna to declare his procedure a success. Delighted at his victory, and oblivious to the true reasoning for the Freak's recovery, the doctor clapped his hands in joy, unable to hold back his emotions.
"This is excellent. This is just absolutely excellent! Years of hard work finally paid off! Mr. Gammelthorpe, you have officially just treaded new ground for the next procedure that could save thousands of lives. How do you feel right now?" Dr. Yuzna asked.
"Pretty good... but don't call me 'Mr. Gammelthorpe'. I shot him in the head. Call me 'The Freak.'" The Freak said.
"Alright, whatever you say. I just know the whole world is going to be excited to see this. Tell me something, son, how'd you like to be on late-night television?"
The proposal brought eyes and ears both snapping to attention to Dr. Yuzna in an instant; these sensory organs belonging to the Freak and Dr. Scott both.
"On late night what?" The Freak and Dr. Scott asked in unison.
"You heard me: Late. Night. Television. You don't just wait a number of days for some journal to come out publishing a study like this, this is the next big thing. This is just short of finding a cancer cure; it has to be televised. Excuse me for just one second, I've got some calls to make." Dr. Yuzna said.
Dr. Yuzna excused himself to make a series of phone calls to find some new semblance of fame, leaving Dr. Scott and the Freak alone at last again. Trying to ensure that his patient felt safe once again, the doctor extended his best and warmest regards to the Freak, not wanting to make him feel frightened under any stress that may have accrued in his mind following the events he was put under.
Of course, in a mind like the Freak's, there is no such distress to be found; only the opposite with the effects of the Spirit Master taking place in him.
"Curly, you feeling okay? Everything alright so far?" Dr. Scott asked.
"Just fine, doc. Never felt better in my life." The Freak said.
"Really? You're not feeling any sort of pain whatsoever?"
"Nope. Guess that Yuzna guy did a better job than I thought."
"Wow. Well, that's certainly good news. I don't like that he took advantage of you like that, but, the fact that you can walk again and you've got no side-effects from it... It's a little hard to ignore that. I'm just glad you're doing better."
"Yep, doing good."
Suddenly, a strange craving came to the Freak's mind, a certain sort of longing; a desire for knowledge and wisdom unlike he had known before. Though not understanding this as a newfound desire of being a Spirit Master, he still went along with this craving, turning to Dr. Scott to fulfill his needs.
"Say, uh, I don't know if I ever asked this, but, is there a library in here?" The Freak asked.
"A library?" Dr. Scott asked.
"Yeah. I just... really want to read something right now. I don't know why."
"Hmm. Well, I see no reason why we can't pay the library a visit. Officers?"
"Hey, man, I don't care where he wants to go, as long as it's somewhere in this building." One officer said.
Departing from this room onto the library as requested, the Freak immediately started moving on to the shelves of books when put near them. Scanning carefully through the books, trying to decide which book to read through first, Dr. Scott sought to accompany him to help him make a decision.
"Ooh, how about this book here? Jane Austen's Emma? I was a little skeptical about trying it as a kid, I always thought it was kind of 'girly', but I got to like it after I started. Why don't you try a page and see what you think?" Dr. Scott asked.
Selecting the book from the shelf, the Freak took a look at the first page as asked, trying to decide whether he wanted to read it or not. To his surprise, upon taking just one look at the page, he absorbed all its information in one instant, as if he had read and memorized this page many times over.
Eager to see more of this in effect, the Freak moved onto the next page, absorbing their contents the instant upon turning, and repeated to the next page, and then on until he found himself rapidly flipping through the pages. Within seconds, he finished reading the entire book, moving cover-to-cover in less time than it took him to select the book itself.
Dr. Scott had no idea what to make of his patient's actions, looking at him in confusion, but found himself even more confused when hearing what was told to him next.
"I think the book's trying to make a statement on projection can make you hide from your fears. Emma swears that she won't marry anybody, but she always tries to make matches with everybody else. Sounds to me like she's just trying to fulfill that fantasy without actually having to change her life." The Freak said.
Not expecting the Freak to have an intelligent analysis of the book, Dr. Scott looked back at him in surprise, not sure what to make of this event.
"C... Curly, have you read this book before?" Dr. Scott asked.
"Nope. Never heard of it until you showed it to me. You were right, by the way; pretty girly book." The Freak said.
Still having no understanding of what to make of this phenomenon, Dr. Scott searched for another book off the shelf, hoping that he would find another book to make a test with. Selecting George Orwell's Animal Farm, the doctor returned to his patient, asking a few questions about the next book.
"Alright, Curly, have you read this one?" Dr. Scott asked.
"Uh... nope. Don't think I have." The Freak said.
"You don't recognize it at all? You've never heard of it?"
"Nope."
"And you're not lying to me, now, are you?"
"No, why would I?"
"Fair enough. Read this one and tell me what you think."
The Freak took the book, beginning to read it in full. Once again, just from one simple look at a page, he could comprehend the entirety of it in an instant. Flipping through the pages at a fast speed just like the last choice, he soon finished the novel, reaching the back cover.
"It's an interesting critique of power; defeating one evil just to have another take control. Almost makes it seem like the whole thing is just a vicious cycle." The Freak said.
"And you managed to comprehend everything the book said just by reading it like that?" Dr. Scott asked.
"I guess so. Is that good?"
"That's just-"
"...amazing!" Dr. Yuzna said.
Turning to the doorway, the Freak and Dr. Scott saw Dr. Yuzna watching them both, having witnessed the preceding events for himself.
"Some sort of hyperlexia? That's definitely going to be an interesting addition to the interview. Oh, also, I managed to get us an interview with Jimmy Fallacy. You know, his show 'Pillow Talk with Jimmy Fallacy'?" Dr. Yuzna asked.
"Dr. Yuzna, I don't know about-" Dr. Scott began to say.
"Sounds like fun." The Freak.
His patient's immediate enthusiasm made Dr. Scott grow both concerned and surprised at the quick and confident response he had given.
"Huh? Curly, I don't think this is a good-" Dr. Scott began to say.
"Wait, Dr. Scott, just let me say something. After the surgery, I felt something different deep down; something that made me think about all the talks we had. I never thought about our talks that much before, not even the ones I really should have, like when you showed me how my parents weren't anything like I remembered. I had this... dream that made everything clear to me, and, now that I can walk again, I think that, maybe, I have a second chance at life again. I know there's not a lot I can do to make up for what I've done, but, with what Dr. Yuzna's done, maybe I've just helped to save a lot of lives. I want to start doing good now, and this might just be a great chance for me to show that. Please. I want to do it." The Freak said.
With his thoughts clouded by what sounded like a perfectly sound and articulate speech, truly believing that he had made progress with his patient, Dr. Scott gave a huge smile, giving in to the wishes of the Freak. Changing his stance on this potential for a television apperance, he turned to Dr. Yuzna to confirm his own approval.
"I changed my mind. Maybe this could be good after all; showing the world how far Curly's come. I agree to the idea." Dr. Scott said.
"Glad you see it my way. In that case, care to join me and help me work out any details?" Dr. Yuzna asked.
"Of course. Oh, and, Dr. Yuzna? Maybe I was too hard on you. Even if I don't quite approve on how you went about it, your procedure gave my patient hope again; something I thought he would never find. Thank you for what you did."
"Like I said, I'm glad you see it my way."
As the two doctors left the room to plan out their television appearance, the Freak was left behind in the library on his own, but still attended by the two guardsmen officers. Only concerned with ensuring that he would make no attempts to leave the hospital, they do not care at all about what he does on his own.
This mistake is all the advantage to the Freak, and gives a smile with his good fortune.
Sucker. Oh, I wanna go on TV, alright, but not for any of that crap. I'm gonna show the Green Eye that I'm back for good. But, first... The Freak thought.
Heading back to the shelves in the library, the Freak began making his own selections throughout what it had to offer, primarily focusing on all parts and workings of human anatomy. His interest was not for medicinal purposes, however; with a few books on hand-to-hand combat and one book on warfare in the mix as well...
...his study was to find out how to kill someone in the fastest way possible.
...time for a little studying. The Freak thought.
In the heart of the city, resting in a small apartment all to himself, there lives a young man by the name of Harold Berman. He is a member of the Hillwood Heroes, taking on the identity of the Star of David. He has found a niche interest across the country due to being not only one of the first superheroes in the country, but also the first to adopt a Jewish identity, making him an idol to many in his religion.
Following Arnold's pilgrimage to San Lorenzo many years ago, there was a lack of guidance to his circle of friends; no way to keep them out from making bad decisions or prevent them from making mistakes. Sadly, this also meant that, for the mentally disadvantaged Harold, he had turned to a life of crime.
Having been held back 4 years in school due to poor grades and behavior, he was put in a position that had forced many into a life of crime, and fell into the hands of 'Big' Gino and his crowd. Thanks to the help of Arnold during his return as the Green Eye, he was at last able to leave for good, able to move on with his own life.
Sadly, that past prevents him from speaking to the girl that he had the deepest feelings for: Patricia Smith, also known as the gentle giant 'Big' Patty. Feeling shame from his own past life of crime, he had retreated into his own religion to try to better himself, and come far into trying to become a better person, but still had not found the peace he sought.
Still, with the encouragement from Rhonda prior to her departure, he had found just enough strength to pick up his phone, preparing to call Patty for the first time in many years. Sweat beads from his hands as he grips the phone, his breath speeding up as it neared his mouth, but he still pushed on to complete the task he had set out for himself.
Dialing the number to Patty, a number he had held onto in his mind for many years, he pressed 'call', patiently awaiting the other end to receive.
Following a brief moment of waiting, the other line picked up, at last putting the first moment of contact between Harold and Patty after many years. In this tense moment, no words come to Harold's mouth, leaving the first words to be spoken by Patty in his stead.
"Hello?" Patty asked.
Harold felt a strong urge to greet her in return, but his own fears and shortcomings prevented him from saying anything at all.
"Hello?" Patty asked.
He bit his lip once again, trying desperately to let the words come out, but he buckled under fear once again before responding.
"Hello? Is someone there?" Patty asked.
Harold tried to overcome his fears in one last show of strength, believing this to be his last chance to speak, so he took in a breath to speak up at last.
Alas, the one moment that he finally managed to conjure up his strength had been for nothing: Unwilling to wait for a response any longer, Patty hung up the phone, leaving the two disconnected once again. Coming to this realization slowly, Harold sat in silence on his bed for a brief moment, letting feeling of anger and frustration take place of fear.
Discontent with his own failure, he threw the phone across the room, laying back on his bed in further loss of control of his anger. Having many problems of dealing with his rage in his youth, this issue has proven to never left him, haunting him from able to make clearer decisions in his life.
"Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Harold ranted.
Taking in deep breaths to calm himself, Harold turned and stepped off the bed, walking in place to allow himself to vent out his frustrations. After letting himself walk around his apartment for a moment, he soon came to his hands and knees, kneeling to his bed in a position of prayer.
"Oh God, who blessed our ancestors, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; Sarah, Rebekkah, Leah, and Rachel, please lend me your strength. Lend me your strength so that I may no longer suffer in such anger. Lend me your strength so that I may not live in fear, but instead in love. Lend me your strength so that I may finally honor you and not shame you. I have lived in the shadow of shame and hate for so long, and I need your strong hand to guide me to the path of righteousness once again. I give you my humblest prayer, God, and I hope you will hear me at last. Amen." Harold said.
As one member of Hillwood looks to the beliefs of ancient past to find some semblance of peace in his own problems of life, there are a select few that look to a television screen for their own hopes for peace against the very real threats that exist in their city. Resting in the foyer of the Sunset Arms Boarding Home, its residents watch more for reports on the status of the National Guard stationed in the city.
To gain this information, they listen to a news report playing live, with the journalist Lisa Bartholomew interviewing the head of the National Guard's operations in the city: Command Sergeant Major Roger Avary Johnson, a tall and well-built man dressed in medals, standing outside an encampment of troops behind the two in the camera view.
"Good evening, this is Channel 96, I'm Lisa Bartholomew here with Command Sergeant Major Roger Avary Johnson, head of operations here at the Army National Guard base in Hillwood. Sergeant Major Johnson, can you just give us a brief glossover of what exactly you and the National Guard are doing here?" Lisa asked.
"Yes, ma'am. We're here for the simple reason of keeping the citizens of Hillwood safe. We haven't had an attack like this in our city since the Tomato Incident during the Revolutionary War, and that was against a foreign power. This time, it was an American citizen that launched this attack, and that leaves us responsible for handling this affair." Sergeant Major Johnson answered.
"Have you made any contact with the Hillwood Heroes?"
"Ma'am, this is a military operation. We don't work alongside costumed vigilantes regarding national safety."
"But surely you must recognize the significance that they hold in this city. They have kept Hillwood safe for over a year now, leaving many Hillwoodians placing their trust in them for protection. There's been some mixed reception to the introduction of the military on city streets; don't you think that working directly with the Hillwood Heroes would resolve some of the citizens' skepticism or hesitation to the presence of the National Guard?"
"I'll say it again, ma'am: We don't work with costumed vigilantes regarding issues of national safety. It's masked maniacs like these that we have such a problem to begin with, as well as incidents like the Silver Sentinel Scandal and the Ocean Shores Incident."
"Excuse me, Sergeant Major, but it's been disproven that the Ocean Shores Incident has any relation to the Hillwood Heroes or the Hillwood Effect. Don't you think that this kind of attitude would only raise tensions with the Hillwood Heroes and lead to bigger problems-"
"If that freakshow of criminals you call 'heroes' wants to take on the United States [bleep]ing government, tell them to be my [bleep]ing guest. If you'll excuse me, Mrs. Bartholomew, I have a unit to run."
Sergeant Major Johnson then abruptly ended his interview, leaving the grounds to see to his other duties as head of the post. Leaving to see about his other areas of work to be fulfilled, Lisa Bartholomew was left with attempting to work around this interruption; thinking on the spot on what to say next.
"Uh, well, there you have it, folks. Command Sergeant Major Johnson refuses to work with the Hillwood Heroes, leaving the public trust of the National Guard's presence staying at an unresolved and left lukewarm, at best. Will the National Guard and Hillwood Heroes try to make some sort of deal in hopes that we can see 'Little' Nicky Russotti returned to a prison cell and let us all sleep at night once again? We can only hope. In other news, Thaddeus Gammelthrope, known to Hillwood and most of the world as the supervillain calling himself 'The Freak', has successfully come out of the experimental back surgery performed by Dr. Ryan Yuzna and is slated to appear tonight on 'Pillow Talk with Jimmy Fallacy'. The doctor claims that his surgical procedure can completely reverse the effects of paralysis and can lead to many lives being saved, but this seems to be overshadowed by the controversial decision to show Gammelthrope on national TV. Many groups have begun to protest the appearance of the infamous supervillain, while also gaining a strong support for his appearance by many of his fan groups. The situation boils hot by the minute, but two simple facts remain: Thaddeus Gammelthrope will be on TV, and all eyes will be on him. What happens after that, we can only hope for the best. I'm Lisa Bartholomew, here's Tom with the weather." Lisa said.
With the report moving on to the weather, the residents of the Sunset Arms took none the kindly to the interview, particularly taking issue with the last bit of information shared on television. The name of the Freak had already rung a notion of fear into the hearts of all Hillwoodians, but to hear that he would be put on a pedestal and given a moment of praise... was nothing short of sickening.
"That creep. They want to put him on TV? And there's people that actually want to see it? Who'd want to look at him for more than a second?" Goldie asked.
"Now, dear, let's be fair. It's not him they're talking about; it's about that procedure. If it can save lives, then it'd be good to see it for ourselves." Herbie said.
"Herb, I don't care if that man has the cure for cancer. He needs to be locked up forever. Kids? Neither of you are two watch that program tonight. You are to go straight to bed. Is that clear?"
"Yes, mom." William and Annie said.
The two children proceeded to head to bed as ordered, leaving the adults on the couch to watch the TV alone.
"Honey, I'm sure that they're not going to glorify him in any way. It's just about the procedure. I'm still going to watch it and see what it's about. Will you sit here with me and watch?" Herbie asked.
Goldie thought over her husband's question for a moment, contemplating whether she would see the interview in full or not.
"Hmph. Alright, I'll give it 10 minutes. If they at least have some integrity and call him out on his actions, I'll continue." Goldie said.
Accepting her husband's request, Goldie continued to stay seated at the couch, waiting for the moment in which the program would come on.
Though the Grossmans have the luxury on their hands to patiently wait for the broadcast to air, there is another couple who is not quite so able to sit so peacefully. Having watched the news as well were Arnold Shortman and Helga Pataki; both more than familiar with the Freak as well as been the most personally affected by him. They knew already of his return, but to hear it televised was an experience arguably more unsettling than mere word-of-mouth.
Having nearly died at the hands of the Freak, Helga found herself gripping Arnold's hands in her own tighter, with her significant other doing much of the same. The trauma of nearly losing her almost a year ago still haunts his mind, and it only leaves the question of which of these two were more affected by that day when she nearly died.
Unable to let another moment like it come, Arnold knew he could not stay at home any longer. Getting most of his rest and reconciling his wrongs with Helga, and hoping that his teammates received much of the same, it was time to prepare for the fight that would come between him and the Freak once again.
Before departing from his seat on the couch, Helga held his hand one last time, trying dearly to remember the feeling of his touch one last time.
"Arnold. Please promise me you'll be safe." Helga said.
"I promise." Arnold said.
The two shared one last kiss, leaving the football head to leave and head to the Hillwood Heroes' base. Stepping out the front door to the Sunset Arms, Arnold made his way down the street, casually walking the streets of his city as he always does, like a defensive blood cell heading down the veins and arteries of a body to seek out and destroy an infection.
In the midst of his walk, he soon finds interruption from the other defenses of this city, being stopped by a National Guardsman for a brief exchange of information.
"Just so you know, there's a curfew in the city around 10:00 AM. All citizens are asked to stay inside their homes after that time." The National Guardsman said.
"Thanks, but I might miss that by a little bit." Arnold said.
"Got some plans tonight?"
"Yeah. Pretty big plans."
As one piece of this game regarding the Freak sets into place, there is another piece that must soon be fit in place before the fight must come. At the outpost of the National Guard, the head of the troops stationed in the city, Command Sergeant Major Roger Avary Johnson, relaxed himself at his desk, taking a moment to himself after his hard work on keeping all operations running.
Relaxing at his desk with a glass of whiskey at his hand, the sergeant major took back a swig of his drink, letting the warm burn of the liquid burn at his throat. Indulging in the numbing effect of his beverage, he directed his attention to a photo stand sitting on his desk, paying close attention to the picture it held.
The picture was a photograph of the sergeant major himself standing alongside his wife and child; a happy memory from a happier time. Though the initial thought of the memory brought a smile to his face, catching up with all time from then up to the present is what drew the smile back off.
Before able to remember what brought the sergeant major to such a low place in his life, a Guardsman appeared in his office, coming with a request for his commander.
"Sergeant Major, sir? We've got a request from Channel 96 regarding their interview with that Freak guy on TV. They say they want some troops deployed outside the building for crowd control, and some more in the building to watch the Freak." The Guardsman said.
"Private, need I remind you that we're here for the sole purpose of catching 'Little' Nicky Russotti, and not a damn thing else more? We're not here to play armed guards. That job's for the cops to handle." The sergeant major said.
"Yes, sir, but the police had also conjoined in the request. If I might comment, sir, the Freak was able to bring the city to near chaos overnight during his first appearance. It could be potentially too much for just the police to handle on their own."
"Uh-huh. And what exactly makes you think any need for commentary was necessary to add when I told you the answer is 'no'?"
"I have family here in Hillwood, sir. I just want my family to be safe."
Though the act of speaking out of line would be an offense that the sergeant major would not look kindly too, the dimension of family gave him a soft spot for the private's concerns. A quick look back to the photograph of his family further cemented that kindness, leading him to deliver his next words in a more benign fashion.
"I understand your concern, private, but it's not our job to handle common criminals. We were brought in because 'Little' Nicky tear-assed this city far worse than that little punk did, and we need to stop him. That should be a far bigger threat to you when you think about your family." The sergeant major said.
"Yes, sir. I understand, sir." The Guardsman said.
With his request for more guns watching over the Freak declined, the private left the room, leaving the sergeant major to his own vices and burying his own concerns.
While trying to relax, the sergeant major being alone once again, the phone began to rang, instantly catching his attention away from his inner thoughts and onto the current state of affairs awaiting him in the physical world. Taking the phone in his hand and putting it to his ear, the sergeant major answered the call.
"Command Sergeant Major Johnson." He answered.
Elsewhere, at a hideout hidden deep in the city, the other end of this call lets out a long exhale of smoke from his Cuban cigar, preparing his breath to speak at last. Letting a smile come to his face with the smoke exiting his lips, the man spoke up at last, identifying himself to the sergeant major.
"Hello, Command Sergeant Major Johnson. This is 'Little' Nicky. I heard you've been looking for me. I'm flattered." 'Little' Nicky said.
At the National Guard base...
Feeling both a sense of surprise and anger at the voice, the sergeant major began to raise his voice to massive mafioso over the phone, appalled at his boldness to call and mock him so easily with a call. As he mustered up an insult to throw over the line, a hand worked its way to a 'panic' button, readying himself to alert more Guardsmen to come to his office.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You try to trace me, I disappear deeper, and you won't find me, not even with all your fancy military super-black-ops whatever." 'Little' Nicky said.
"You listen to me, you goddamn thug. I don't know who you think you are, but this is a military man you're talking to. I'm not some low-life punk on the street you can toss around. I'm here to catch you and I'm here to take you down, plain and simple." The sergeant major said.
"So I'm told. I heard you're not interested in even so much as looking at the Freak."
"Of course not. You are my primary goal. He's not my problem."
"Of course not. But I understand that you have a problem, particularly one in your family."
The voice of the sergeant major began to grow timid under what his enemy was suggesting, leading him to feign strength.
"Don't even think about it. I took an oath to defend this country from all enemies, and that means I sure as hell do not make deals with them. There's not a damn thing you can offer me." The sergeant major said.
"Not even if someone could help you save your son?" 'Little' Nicky asked.
Hearing the words come out of his mouth at last, the sergeant major looked upon his family photo once more, focusing directly on his son's face.
"Adopting a child takes a real heart of gold. It's such a shame he had to get that brain tumor, and it's even more of a shame that the National Guard wouldn't give him the healthcare he needed." 'Little' Nicky said.
"Don't you dare try to patronize me, you piece of shit." The sergeant major said.
"If you're hunting me, then you know how I am with family and how important it is to me. If that's the case, you know that what I'm saying, I actually mean. I don't like seeing families get destroyed. I can give your son the money to get surgery."
The sergeant major went quiet at last for a moment, seriously contemplating the offer.
"What do you want?" The sergeant major asked.
"You know what I want. The Freak. He's all the reason I came back. Take that job at the TV station, bring him to me, and, when I'm done with him, I'll give myself up. All I want is to avenge my own son. I'm sure you can relate to that feeling in some way." 'Little' Nicky said.
"Just tell me what I have to do."
"Alright. Get a pen and paper and listen carefully."
Listening carefully to the instructions as given, the sergeant major wrote down the directions as explicitly as possible, making sure to spare no detail. With the life of his son at stake in this affair, there was no room for mistakes to be made, not that he was a man to make mistakes, anyways.
Penning down the last of the instructions, the sergeant major bid his goodbyes to 'Little' Nicky, promising to make good on his end of the deal.
"Alright. He'll be all yours by then. I swear to god, if you try to double-cross me-" The sergeant major began to say.
"I don't break deals. Just have him be there and I'll take care of your son." 'Little' Nicky said.
Hanging up the phone, the sergeant major rested his face into his hands, seriously beginning to regret his decision already. Taking another look at his son, remembering the anguish he was living through daily and being left powerless to help him, this would be his one and only hope for saving his life.
Moving back to his phone, he paged the private who paid him a visit earlier, letting him know of a change in plans.
"Yes, sir?" The private asked.
"I gave some thought to your suggestion, private. Changed my mind. Get a squad ready to provide added security to the Channel 96 building." The sergeant major said.