Fort Lindell
Present Day
Mickey's Auto Garage
"All right, Mrs. Cavensham. I replaced the spark plugs and checked the radiator. Your car is now working fine!"
Charlene "Charlie" McGee nodded to the older woman in her early sixties who clutched her pearls and exhaled in relief. The homely, church-going woman shook Charlie's greased, stained hand, not caring that she was getting a spot of oil on her pristine, floral dress.
"Oh, thank you, Miss Lizzie!" Mrs. Cavensham exclaimed. Liz Harrington had been the alias Charlie was using. "I thought I would have to buy a whole new car and I'm on a fixed income! Even your coworker said I needed to replace the engine and that I was going to cost me a pretty penny!"
Charlie shook her head. "I apologize, Mrs. Cavensham. My coworker Rick must have misunderstood the diagnosis on your car. It was a simple tune-up." She handed the bill to the customer. "It's just our usual standard fee."
The old woman glanced at the final total and relaxed. "Oh, thank goodness! This Rick person wanted to charge me a thousand for labor and engine replacement. At least, you're only billing me the right price for real honest work." She reached into her purse and paid Charlie in cash. Charlie rang her up and sent her customer on her merry little way. "I'll make sure to recommend you to all my friends and to my church group!"
Once again, Charlie nodded and watched as Mrs. Cavensham drove off happy as a clam and ready to send repeat business to the brunette mechanic. She wiped her dirty hands on to her dark overalls and joined her fellow coworkers, Leroy, and Joel, who were organizing a shipment of parts.
"Is that the same ol' biddy that was here a week ago screaming and hollerin' about her car?" Leroy Tillman asked Charlie. Standing at 6'1 and sporting the physique of a bodybuilder the fifty-something African American man might display a rough appearance but had the heart of a teddy bear. Charlie often looked to him for guidance as a father figure.
"The very same one," she replied. "Luckily, I smoothed things over after fixing Rick's mistake."
Leroy laughed. "At least, she got someone who knows about cars. Rick should be lucky that he knows how to wipe his own behind half the time."
"That jackass should be the one to kiss that old biddy's ass!" Her coworker Joel Epstein added. Compared to Leroy, Joel tall and lanky and sported a Star of David tattoo on his forearm that represented his Jewish faith. Charlie thought this was funny especially when his religion frowned upon body ink. "Figures Rick would fuck up another client's car." He noted.
The person the trio was referring to was Rick Addison, a short, stubby mechanic with thinning hair that their boss Salvador "Sal" Mickey hired six months ago. Since his employment, their coworker had been making constant errors which the auto crew had to continuously correct. This was getting tiresome. It now had gotten to point that Leroy and Joel began complaining to their employer of Rick's shortcomings.
"Speaking of which," Charlie remarked. "Where is Rick?" It was not like she missed his company. In fact, she hated his presence, but she pretended to be not affected by it for professional reasons. "I haven't seen him today."
Joel smirked. "Oh, he's here, Liz." He let out a sinister giggle. "Sal pulled him into his office the moment he clocked in."
"Uh-oh." She knew the drill. Whenever Sal pulled one of his employees into his office, it meant something big was going down.
"Can you blame him?" Leroy chimed in. "I mean it was only a matter of time before Rick's fuck-ups were going to get back to the bossman."
Suddenly, Sal's door flew opened as a barrage of shouting vibrated through the entrance.
"THAT'S IT, RICK! I GAVE YOU PLENTY OF CHANCES BUT YOUR SCREW-UPS ARE COSTING ME MONEY!"
Charlie never heard Sal so enraged but from the tone drifting from the doorway, she knew he was furious.
"I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE MY IN-LAW! JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE MY WIFE'S LOSER BROTHER DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN FUCK WITH MY BUSINESS!"
"But it's not my fault!" Rick defended. Unlike Sal's booming voice, Rick's seemed like a kitten purring than a barking guard dog. "That old bag was the one who started it!"
"THAT OLD BAG IS THE MAYOR'S SISTER! SHE HAS CONNECTIONS TO THIS COMMUNITY AND HER FRIENDS ARE MY REGULARS! YOU TRIED TO SWINDLE HER BY CLAIMING SHE NEEDED A COMPLETE ENGINE CHANGE!"
"She might need it in a couple years. Who knows…"?
"SHE DIDN'T NEED ONE NOW! THE FACT IS YOU TRIED TO PULL A SCAM AND THAT IS THE REASON YOU SERVED PRISON TIME FOR FRAUD IN THE FIRST PLACE!"
"Hey, Sal. I'm just trying to bring you some extra money in. How was I to know the old broad wouldn't take my suggestion?"
"I'M DOING FINE RUNNING AN HONEST BUSINESS! MY THREE MECHANICS BRING IN PLENTY OF REPEAT CUSTOMERS BY WORKING HARD AND NOT CUTTING CORNERS!"
"You mean that dyke, the coon, and the hymie?"
"THAT'S IT! YOUR ASS IS FIRED!"
"You can't fire me! I'll tell Allison!"
"GO AHEAD! I'LL MAKE A CALL TO YOUR PROBATION OFFICER FOR COMMITTING FRAUD AGAIN! NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT BEFORE I BEAT YOUR ASS ALL THE WAY BACK TO THE PEN!"
A short, thinning haired man popped out of the office. Rick looked frightened as Leroy, Joel and even Charlie approached him with anger in their eyes. Surprisingly, the short man did not cower.
"Care to say those shitty words again, punk?" Leroy challenged the tiny man.
Joel stepped in. "Let me go first, Leroy. I'm going to shove a menorah so far up his ass that he'll be lit for eight days straight!"
Charlie folded her arms. "Boys, boys." She said calmly and rationally. "We want to be professional and not display any violence in the workplace." She winked at Leroy and Joel. "Let's be gentlemanly and allow a lady to land the first punch."
The two coworkers backed away as she tightened her fist, swung at Rick, and landed a blow to his cheek that caused him to topple to the ground. Leroy and Joel applauded her efforts.
"You filthy carpet muncher!" Rick spat as he massaged his bruised cheek. He addressed the other two mechanics and directed his anger towards them. "Go figure you'd get a girl to fight your battles!" He quickly got up, clenched his fist, and tried to return the favor to Charlie. She was ready for him.
Her eyes concentrated on his skin. She found soft spot just at the base of the knuckle to where the rest of Rick's fingers flexed inwardly. She watched, focused on the epidermal layer starting to bubble, the small connected arteries heat up and boil to the point that it reached the surface and turned his entire skin red. His flesh felt like it was melting away. In truth, it was as the excruciating pain flayed across the top of his hand, down to his stubby fingers and across his forearm. Rick screamed as he clutched his wounded limb and began racing away from the garage.
"My arm! My arm!" He squealed. "It's on fire!"
Leroy and Joel watched as smoke emitted from Rick's body, unsure and unaware of what was happening. They looked on as their coworker quickly climbed into his truck, screaming in pain, and drove off down the road, hopefully, to the nearest hospital.
"Man, that was freaky." Leroy remarked.
Joel agreed. "Yeah, it was like his arm caught on fire." He turned to Charlie. "Did you see anything, Liz?"
Charlie shook her head. "Nope. I think when I decked him, he must've put his hand near some of the chemicals. You know how clumsy Rick is." The two men bought her story. Plus, they really did not like Rick so it seemed plausible.
Everyone returned to their duties as their boss Sal came strolling out of his office. A man in his sixties with a graying hair, a mustache, and sporting a beer gut, their owner and employer greeted his fellow mechanics.
"As you know," he started calmly unlike his rant earlier. "I had to let Rick go. It wasn't going to work out."
"What about your wife, Allison?" Charlie boldly questioned. "Is she going to be pissed that you fired her brother?"
"She'll get over it." Sal declared. "I'm done doing favors for family. It's my business and what I say goes! Now let's get back to work. I got a business run."
Leroy and Joel gave their boss the thumbs up as Sal headed back into his office. The two men returned to restocking their shelves just as a black SUV drove into the garage. Charlie observed park into the garage, letting out a zaftig, gothic looking girl dressed in a black dress, fishnets, and wearing a green military jacket and combat boots from the driver's seat. She walked up to Charlie and greeted her.
"Liz, right?"
Charlie nodded.
"Hi," said the strange girl. "One of my friends recommended you. You see, my truck has been acting up so I was hoping you could look at it?"
Charlie agreed. She pop opened the hood to assess the problem. It took about ten minutes for Charlie to make a diagnosis to notice that nothing was wrong.
"Everything looks in tip top shape, Miss…"
"Jane. Jane Delano." The teenager answered.
"Well Jane," Charlie replied. "It looks like there isn't anything wrong. Your truck is running fine."
Jane observed Leroy and Joel deep in conversation on the either side of the garage before proceeding to lean in for a whisper. "Actually, I'm not here for that. I know who you are, Charlie McGee."
Taken aback, Charlie stuttered. "I…I…I don't know what you're talking about. My name is Liz Harrington."
Two dark cars pulled into the driveway of the garage, catching Charlie off-guard. A gentleman in a suit got out of one while two also impeccably dressed got out of the other. Ignoring Jane, Charlie shifted her attention to the three new potential customers.
Jane pushed the issue. "No, you're Charlie McGee. I know you can do things. I know you can start fires in your head!"
Charlie gulped. She refused to respond to her statement. "I think you better leave. I've got customers to attend to." She ignored Jane's pleas as she returned her attention to the three men. "Hi, how can I help you?"
The taller of the three spoke first. "Are you Liz Harrington?"
"Yes…"
The words were cut off the moment Charlie felt a sharp pin prick on her shoulder. She glanced down to see a small needle dart protruding from her skin. Her head started to spin as her legs gave way and she tumbled to the ground unconscious.
Jane saw the tall man clutching a pistol and gasped. The other two reached into their pockets making her aware they were armed and dangerous. Jane darted toward the corner of the garage and hid for cover near a parked car while Leroy and Joel came rushing out the moment, they saw Charlie collapse.
"What the hell?" Joel shouted.
Jane heard a muzzled pop as Joel toppled to the ground. Blood dripped to the floor as she peered over the side of the car to see all three men holding guns with long cylinders at the end. Silencers!
"Shit!"
Leroy ran toward his car but one of the suited men aimed his pistol at him and fired several rounds into his back. Instantly, the hulking man fell to the ground dead from several gunshot wounds.
Upon hearing the commotion, Sal made the mistake of coming out of his office. The leader of the group fired a few rounds into the bossman's chest, tossing him backward against the open doorway of his office. Jane watched helplessly as two of the men picked up Charlie underneath both arms and slowly carried her to one of their parked cars while their leader suddenly changed the cylinder of his silencer and marched slowly toward her hiding place.
"Jane Delano."
The man taunted her.
"You've been quite a thorn in The Shop's side. I'm afraid we can't have any witnesses."
His wicked grin flashed as the scared teenager looked for any escape route. The garage had none as the group's leader raised his pistol and aimed it at her. She swallowed hard, shut her eyes, and waited for the worst to come.
Loud explosions echoed throughout the building. With her eyes still closed, Jane covered her ears and knelt to the ground as a series of bangs vibrated throughout the garage. Glass shattered. Concrete walls shook and the clinking of metal casings hitting the ground began to fade out. Within a few minutes, all was quiet as she heard the tap of heels on the pavement and slowly opened her eyes, uncovered her ears to see a flash of a pressed ivory pant leg and beige sweater staring back at her.
There standing in a middle of a pool of blood that originated from the three dead suited bodies stood a silver blonde woman in her fifties looking ethereal and beautiful as she lowered an artillery rival to her side. She offered the teenager a friendly smile.
"It's good to see you again, my little Nikita."
The Russian dialect seemed all too familiar. Her pet name "Nikita" always made her feel special. Tears filled her eyes as Jane rushed to the woman and embraced her.
"Svetlana," Jane whimpered. "Wh…what are you doing here?"
The Russian Svetlana rubbed her back and kissed her forehead. Jane's former nanny always knew how to comfort her charge.
"I came to rescue you before The Shop came, Jane." Svetlana explained. "I guess I was too late."
Jane looked around room to see the bloodied bodies of the mechanics and the suited operatives creating a pool of scarlet on to the concrete floor. She realized that her former nanny had been the one who fired the fatal rounds that killed her would-be assailants.
"You did this?" She asked Svetlana. "But how?" Then it hit her. She mentioned The Shop. "You know about The Shop?"
Svetlana nodded. "I'm an operative for the American government. I was sent here to ensure The Shop didn't kidnap Charlie McGee and Carrie White."
The realization suddenly struck Jane. "Oh my God! Charlie!"
Their eyes turned toward the unconscious woman lying next to the bloodied bodies of the two men who were intent on abducting her. Svetlana walked over to the sleeping woman to check her pulse.
"She is fine." She informed Jane. "She is only sedated. Thank goodness, the bullets didn't hit her." She signaled to the hacker. "Help me get her in the van."
Placing each of Charlie's arms around their shoulders, the two women dragged her into an awaiting silver van that had been parked a block away. They laid Charlie into the back and got inside the vehicle with Svetlana taking the wheel.
"Where are we going?" Jane asked as they drove away from the auto shop massacre.
"To find Carrie White," said Svetlana bluntly. "Your little escapade with Sue Snell is going to get everyone killed once The Shop finds them."
Jane's brows raised. "You know about Sue Snell?"
"Da'," said her former nanny. "We've been keeping a close watch on your activities. We know The Shop has been tracking you after you assisted her in breaking out of that facility."
"Why didn't you come for me sooner?" Jane pushed. "You could've told me everything!"
Svetlana sighed. "It's complicated, Nikita. For now, you're going to have to trust me."
Jane reluctantly agreed but she still had her doubts.
Covers Bookstore
One hour before
"Why is it that none of you can find what I'm looking for?"
Mr. Loudmouth was at it again. This time he had cornered Rhonda at the counter and began berating her about a title that never existed.
"I SPEND HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS HERE AND I SHOULD BE TREATED WITH SOME RESPECT!"
Thank goodness, I'm not his whipping post this time. Carrie thought to herself. She felt bad that her coworker had to bear the brunt of a customer's abuse, but she knew that Rhonda could handle herself.
She peered over the shelf of the psychology section that she was stocking to see Rhonda ready to rage against this horrible man.
"Listen, buddy!" Rhonda began.
"I'M NOT YOUR BUDDY, BITCH!"
Oh! He did it now! No one calls Rhonda the B-word!
Her coworker snapped. "That's it! I've had enough of you! My coworkers and I had to put up with your ranting and rampant abuse of our services! You obviously are compensating for the fact that your small stature or your inability to attract women gives you some sense of sadistic control and self-entitlement! Well guess what, buddy? In the end, you're still the same sniveling coward with a tiny penis who is going to die alone as a sorry ass excuse for a virgin!"
Mr. Loudmouth lost it. "THAT'S IT! GET ME YOUR MANAGER! I'M GOING TO MAKE SURE YOU GET FIRED!"
"Gladly!" Rhonda snarled. "Then afterwards I can kick your ass from here to Timbuktu because I'll no longer work for the company! But I'll be happy leaving knowing that I gave Mr. Short-Short Man here a beatdown!"
The rude customer's eyes widened. Immediately, everyone from the employees to the rest of patrons inside Covers applauded. It looked like a scene from a reality television show.
Carrie muffled her laughter as she noticed the store manager Marty rushing down to diffuse the situation. Then someone cleared their throat behind her.
"Miss? I was wondering if you have Blood and the Maiden by Sue Snell?"
Taken aback, Carrie remembered that title. It was the first memoir that her former classmate wrote about detailing the events of the Black Prom Massacre. Unlike other books covering the topic, the author wrote a sympathetic and compassionate portrayal of her as a bullied teen and victim instead of a troubled, psychopathic killer. Even still, public opinion only saw Carrie White as a murderer.
"I'm sorry but that book went out of print ten years ago." She informed the customer. "There might be some used copies online."
"Carrie."
The voice surprised her. She turned around to see a dark, curly haired woman in a hoodie and jeans looking nervous and disheveled. Dark bags set under stranger's eyes but even with age and no make-up, there was no mistaking who this person was.
Sue. Sue Snell.
"I'm sorry but you've got the wrong person." Carrie attempted to correct her. "My name is Francine."
Sue leaned in for whisper. "Look, I'm not here to cause any trouble. I'm here to find you."
"Miss, you're mistaken." Carrie emphasized. "Now if you excuse me…" She began to walk away.
"I know what you can do!" Sue called to her. "It's not your fault! I don't blame you for what happened!"
She tried to forget what happened back in Chamberlain. She attempted to convince herself she was not the same person who caused the tragedy. She proceeded to walk further.
"Carrie, please!" Sue pleaded. "I know about The Shop!"
Carrie stopped dead in her tracks. That certainly got her attention. She shifted her attention to Sue.
"They got my daughter," Sue explained. "She's like you. Gifted. That's why I'm here. I need your help."
Marching toward Sue, Carrie grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a secluded corner of the shelf.
"What do you want?" She whispered to the distraught mother.
"Just to talk," responded Sue. "Is there some place private where we can do that?"
Carrie thought about it for a minute. She had one idea. "The café across the street. Meet me there in a few minutes."
Sue agreed. She waited for Carrie to release her arm so she could exit the store and walk over to their destination.
As Rhonda, Mr. Loudmouth, and the store manager tried to settle their dispute, Carrie quietly slipped away for a short lunch break. She was eager to hear what Sue Snell had to say.