Chapter 7

Harrington's Compound

Linda was on her way to Jason's room with a smile on her face; she had some good news for him. When she entered the room he was on the computer, but his heart wasn't really in it. He had been devastated to learn that the computer wasn't hooked up to the internet and he didn't know of any way to communicate with anyone to help him.

"Playing games again?" she asked.

"Yeah, I like them; they keep me busy."

"I've got some great news for you. I talked to our leader, asked if you could go outside for a while each day under my supervision and he said yes."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Awesome!" Jason jumped up from the chair. "When can we go?"

"We can go right now; I'll show you the grounds."

"Great, I'll put on my shoes."

Jason dove under the bed to look for them. Linda watched him; he had turned from a sad boy into a happy one.

"There is one rule. You'll have stay with me at all times otherwise you can't go out again."

"Okay, I can do that."

Outside Linda introduced him to her friends and the other people living there. Jason was taking in everything around him to find the best escape route.

"How do you like it so far?" Linda wanted to know.

"It's just like an abnormal village," Jason answered.

"An abnormal village? What's so abnormal about this one?"

"Normal villages don't have a fence around them."

Linda was dumbfounded, lost for words at his comment. "You are a pretty wise boy for your age."

"My mom always says I watch too much TV."

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The next couple of days Jason went by the rules and finalized his escape plan. He had found a weak spot in the fence surrounding the estate and a hiding place where he could wait for the right time to make his move.

Tomorrow would be the perfect day. Linda had told him she was going to be later then usual and that they couldn't go out until after dinner. Jason told her that was fine; in fact it was perfect. That way he wouldn't have to wait so long for the darkness he needed to escape.

That evening, Linda came to get him as promised. They walked around for a while, talking, when they ran into some of her friends.

"Linda, I gotta go to the bathroom," Jason said. "I don't think I can make it back."

"Go into the bushes then," she told him distractedly.

With a sly grin, he went over to the hedges and pretended to take care of his business. His heart was pounding with fear, but he was determined to try and get away.

Darkness was setting in and Linda suddenly realized that she hadn't seen or heard Jason in several minutes. Terrified, she knew Jason was gone and she had been lulled by his apparent cooperation. Berating herself for her stupidity, she sounded the alarm and began searching for the young boy.

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"The kid got away."

Harrington looked up from the papers he was signing. Harper and Harrison shifted uncomfortably in the doorway as their leader stared at them. Harrington's coal black eyes blazed and suddenly the temperature in the room felt like it had risen twenty degrees.

Harrison wiped the sweat from is forehead with a hand that visibly trembled. Unable to meet the Colonel's eyes, his gaze wandered to the mahogany desk.

Instantly, his fear ratcheted up another notch when he found himself staring at the symbol of the organization. Much larger than his belt buckle, the onyx stone centerpiece was six inches across at its widest, perched atop a gold-plated pedestal and pierced with a wickedly sharp, ornate silver dagger.

Final Judgment.

The Colonel intended to avenge the injustices dealt to them. Those that had been deemed as evil; the police or the military, were given Final Judgment. The silver dagger of the Colonel's justice was to be imbedded in their blackened hearts and their tainted blood spilt over their bodies, cleansing them of their sins.

Then he remembered the cop's wife and how he and Harper had screwed up. They were supposed to drug her to make her more cooperative for the dagger ceremony, but due to a calculation error, they had ended up overdosing her. To hide their mistake, they claimed that she had hung herself.

The Colonel didn't completely buy their story, but was unable to find evidence to contradict it either and let them off with a harsh reprimand for not watching the prisoner more closely.

And now here they were; having to inform the Colonel that another prisoner was gone.

He risked a glance at the Colonel and when he saw the cool metal of a gun pointed directly at Harper's head, he felt his chest constrict with terror. Before he felt his vision begin to blur, he saw that Harper was apparently resigned to his fate, his eyes closed.

Seconds later, when Dave lay next to him with a single bullet hole in his head, Ned felt his own blood drain down to his feet.

"You pathetic piece of shit," the Colonel said in a low voice, taunting him.

Ned sank helplessly to his knees and the Colonel moved in. Ned somehow managed to look up, only to find the gun was now inches from his face. Mortal fear opened his eyes and kept them open when the bullet entered his brain.

Harrington didn't spare a glance as he stepped over the two dead bodies sprawled on the wooden floor. "Tito!" he barked.

Instantly the door opened.

"Yes, sir?" Tito was 250 pounds of solid muscle. He kept his jet black hair slicked back and dressed only in military fatigues. He stood at attention, hands behind him, clasped at the small of his back, staring over Harrington's left shoulder, not meeting his eyes.

"Dispose of this trash," Harrington ordered, moving to the door with a dismissive wave of his hand over Harper and Harrison.

"Yes, sir," Tito responded.

"And Tito," Harrington paused outside the room. "Take care of Linda as well. Make it a special delivery."

Tito nodded in understanding.

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Wednesday

DeeDee McCall awoke suddenly, disoriented looking at a ceiling that wasn't hers. She turned her head to the left in order to check the time but had to blink several times before her eyes could focus on the too-bright LED numbers.

6:25 am.

She groaned softly, and then shot a quick glance over to her partner. He was still sleeping soundly. A smile touched her lips and she reached over to trail her hand tenderly across his arm that was draped over the pillow. He sighed softly but stayed asleep.

McCall slithered out of the bed without disturbing him and stretched, doing a quick mental body inventory as she worked out the kinks. She was pleased to discover that she was actually feeling pretty good.

(About time,) she admitted ruefully, pulling on her robe and heading for the kitchen; intent on surprising Hunter with breakfast.

As she stepped lightly down the hall, she noticed light coming from the living room. Her brow furrowed in puzzlement as she continued into the room, trying to remember if she had left the lights on.

She took one step into the room and froze at the sight of a man sitting in the recliner. The bullet hole in his forehead and the unnatural way his head lolled on his shoulders told her the man was definitely dead.

The strangled cry that escaped her lips brought Hunter on the run. He skidded to a stop, his eyes going from the dead body to his partner, who was staring; her eyes wide, her hands clasped at her mouth.

"Shit!" He yelled. "How the hell did he get here!"

McCall took a shaky breath, recovering from her initial shock. "I don't know – I never heard anything."

Hunter went for the phone. "Shit!" he groused, "I hate when this happens." He punched viciously at the numbers.

McCall moved closer, not touching anything and vaguely she heard her partner in the background, but it didn't register because suddenly, all her attention was focused on one thing. She jumped slightly when she felt a touch on her arm.

"Hey, McCall – you'll never believe this, but Charlie's got a dead body in his kitchen and there's a dead woman over at Brad's house."

McCall didn't move.

Hunter eyed her with concern. "Uh – DeeDee?"

"Look at his belt buckle," she whispered, transfixed. "He's the one. He's the one in the van. The one who called and threatened me."

Hunter gaped. The belt buckle. He hadn't been able to fully grasp how truly gruesome the object was until he saw it with his own two eyes. McCall was right: it was an ugly belt buckle.

With a mental shake, he took McCall by the hand and gently guided her back to the bedroom. "Come on partner, let's get dressed before everyone gets here. I really don't feel like answering a bunch of questions in my pajamas, although I'm sure they'd get a kick out of that gown you're wearing." He didn't want her to know that he was mostly relieved that with this guy out of the picture, it hopefully meant that the immediate threat was over. Of course, they still had a ton of questions that needed answering. Starting with "who had killed the three people and put them, undetected, in three different houses, all with police officers residing in them".

McCall took a step to follow, but found her eyes drawn back to the dead body and the glowing red rubies and her steps faltered.

Hunter caught her easily and put himself between her and the living room. "DeeDee, look at me."

Reluctantly, McCall dragged her gaze away and focused on Hunter.

"Good. Now, don't look back." He put an arm around her and pulled her close. McCall let herself be guided away and tried not to think about who the man was, why he'd been killed and why his dead body had been left for them to find.

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With the discovery of the three bodies, all shot in the head and left for the police, things began moving very quickly. The bodies were identified as Dave Harper, Ned Harrison and Linda Mitchell. The problem came in trying to figure out what the three had in common. What was their link to all that had happened?

Each had very different backgrounds: Linda was a Mary Kay saleswoman up until two years ago. Her husband was dishonorably discharged from the Navy and had killed himself. Shortly after, Linda left her home in San Diego and no one had heard or seen from her since. Dave Harper was a small town sheriff in Louisiana until 18 months ago when he was fired for embezzlement of state funds and gambling. He too, had left his home and no one had heard from him either. A little over two years ago, Ned Harrison had escaped from a maximum security prison in Leavenworth, Kansas, where he was being held for murdering two women.

Pictures from their files were given to Jason and he was accurately able to identify the three as his kidnappers which solved only part of the puzzle. Descriptions of his dealings with Harper, Harrison and Mitchell convinced Hunter and Devane that they were working for someone. And Jason still hadn't been able to give them accurate directions to the place he'd been held, since he'd walked for a long way and had been picked up by a teenage girl who hadn't stuck around to talk with police after returning him to his home. He did tell them that the two men had referred to "a boss".

McCall stared at the report on the desk in front of her. She learned that the back of the buckle had the words "Final Judgment" engraved in it and the thought of someone inflicting their idea of judgment by a knife through the heart was chilling.

Final Judgment.

Devane had them scouring through files and asking on the street if anyone knew of anyone using that phrase. Brad and Kitty were using the media and Hunter had gone to find Sporty. McCall shifted uneasily in her seat. She felt a little cowardly not going out with Hunter, but she was a bit nervous that someone was still out there that had orchestrated kidnappings and at least one murder and probably meant for her and little Jason to be killed also.

She was still angry, too. These people had hurt her. Not just physically, but emotionally. She had such a sense of security with her co workers and Hunter especially, but they had blown right through all of them and threatened them as well.

Realizing that surely it had to have been someone that she and Hunter had tangled with in the past in some way, sent her to the file room. Recruiting anyone she could find, she began pulling all the cases they had ever worked on and scoured each one with a fine toothed comb. She had the computer operators begin a detailed search for the exact phrase "Final Judgment" and also had extensive background checks pulled on Harper, Harrison and Mitchell.

It took five hellishly long, but thankfully uneventful days before they were able to make any headway in solving a part of the mystery. They all spent countless hours pulling the pieces in and learned how Harrison, Mitchell and Harper had become followers of Colonel Ethan Harrington and that Carlson had id'd the Colonel's son, who was now behind bars. A news conference after the trial showed the Colonel ranting against the perceived injustice.

They were all huddled around the TV/VCR watching the news clip. McCall was only half-listening at the time, but two words did manage to penetrate the fog she felt that she'd been living in for what seemed like a month.

"Wait!" she called out, startling everyone in the room. "Stop the tape – rewind it," she was saying, even as she vaulted out of her chair to do it herself.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, breathlessly, her fingers trying to hit the stop button.

The others exchanged confused glances. "Hear what, McCall?" Hunter asked.

She didn't answer him until she found what she wanted. After a moment, she pushed play and adjusted the volume up then stepped back as everyone leaned forward in anticipation.

Ethan Harrington's voice, loud and arrogant, " –and only I can give final judgment for my people, for my son!"

McCall hit stop again. "Final judgment. The same words on Harrison's belt buckle – final judgment."

Hunter leaned back in his seat. "Okay, let me get this straight. This guy Harrington is pissed off at Carlton for fingering his son and doesn't appreciate the Justice System's verdict. Are you saying that he's dishing out his own justice?"

Devane picked it up. "He said 'his people'. Is he talking about Harrison, Mitchell and Harper? Are they 'his people' that joined him because they feel unhappy with what's happened to them? So, what? Is Harrington promising them is own justice – judgment?"

McCall could only shrug her shoulders. "It makes as much sense as anything else. And that's where you, me and Hunter fit in. We're the ones who put him behind bars in the first place, 9 years ago."

Devane reached for his Rolaids. "Jesus – what a fruitcake. Okay, what have we got on the guy now? Anyone know where to find him?"

Brad and Kitty went out to the computers to see if they could locate anything current. McCall stood at the window, staring out over the city. Dusk was turning the sky a hazy orange. Hunter stepped over to her and placed a hand at the small of her back.

"What are you thinking, McCall?" He asked quietly.

"He's still out there," she answered softly. "He said he has people working for him. What if he hasn't given up, just because three of his people screwed up?"

Devane sighed. "We'll find him. Don't you worry about that."

McCall remained silent, remembering the hideous silver dagger imbedded in a black heart and dripping ruby red blood.

Navarro poked his head in. "There's no current address for Harrington. We're checking surrounding areas for any property in his name. Oh, and Hunter – Sporty's on the line for you."

"Thanks. I'll be right there." He waited until Brad was gone before turning back to his partner. "You okay?"

McCall managed a grin that looked more like a grimace. "I'll have to be." She shook her head. "Sorry. Yeah – I'm fine. Go talk to Sporty. I'm gonna go home and soak. Stick a fork in me – I'm done." She just wanted to get out for a little while, but had no intention of making the same mistake twice. She – was – going home and not roaming around.

Hunter nodded. "I'll call you when I find out what Sporty has."

McCall touched his arm and then headed out, stopping to pick up her purse and her jacket before going to the elevator.

Hunter went to his desk to talk to Sporty. When he hung up, Charlie was standing next to him.

"Anything?"

Hunter shrugged. "He's got a guy that might know something. I'm gonna meet him in an hour."

"Okay. I'm going home. I want to know what you find out, as well. Call me whenever – I'll be up."

"You got it, Charlie." He stood up. "Oh, and before I forget – I wanted to let you know that I have a unit following McCall and staying guard outside until I get there. We can't think that just because nothing's happened this week – it's completely over."

"Agreed. Good thinking – now go on. Good luck and be careful – you're not immune to danger."

"I'll be on guard and thanks, Charlie." Hunter grabbed his jacket and hurried out, eager to meet someone he hoped could help them.

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Devane pulled into his driveway and turned off the engine. He moved to the front door when he remembered that he hadn't checked his mail in two days, and went to the front curb. As expected, the box was almost full and he sorted it out as he walked back, not bothering to look where he was going. So intent on the various bills and flyers that he was caught completely unaware when a man dressed all in black jumped out from the bushes.

The blow to the back of his head knocked him completely unconscious and he was quickly hauled off to an unmarked van that was parked next door.

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Harrington sat patiently in his truck, absently stroking the gun nestled in the seat next to him. He had watched McCall leave, taking note of the car assigned to follow her then fell in behind them at a discreet distance. He left Tito behind to watch for Hunter and Devane.

When Tito radioed that Hunter was leaving, Harrington ordered him to stick to Devane. "Don't worry about Hunter – I've already arranged for him to be sent on a bit of a wild goose chase," he said with a chuckle.

As he drove, he thought about his recent loss of manpower and was frustrated that he was unable to trust this job to no one else in his group at this critical stage of Final Judgment.

The rest of his people were handling the last of the preparations at the assigned location – not at his compound, but at a place he was sure that they wouldn't be disturbed. It was outside the city limits in an abandoned church and he felt the place was most appropriate since he had introduced his followers to the Colonel Ethan Harrington religion.

Of course, the added bonus was a ready made altar and a seating arrangement that gave everyone a perfect vantage point for the Silver Dagger Ceremony.

(Real justice,) he thought, (at last, vengeance will be mine.)