CHAPTER NINETEEN (ONE GOOD SHOT DESERVES ANOTHER....)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A HUGE THANK YOU GOES OUT TO OUR RESIDENT READER/REVIEWER, CAPTAIN BRASS. SHE IS TO BLAME FOR THIS CHAPTER. SHE INSPIRES ME TO EXPLORE THE DARKER SIDE OF HUMANITY. SEND ALL NASTY NOTES OF DISSENSION HER WAY AND GIVE ME A REST...LOL
Addison McBain walked briskly down the dark tunnel. He ignored the dampness of the cement walls, the putrid odor invading his nostrils that swirled up from the stagnated water beneath his feet.
His flashlight illuminated a path. The man was mildly annoyed. He rarely allowed such petty emotions, but his plans had been interrupted, and they had been such grand plans too.
The light from the end of the tunnel loomed just ahead, thirty feet or less. The Explorer sat, waiting his return. He flicked his light off, continuing on.
Already, he was planning alternate scenarios. This episode was merely a small inconvenience at the most.
He transferred the small grey case with it's soil samples inside to his left hand, juggling the flashlight, fumbling in his Armani slacks for the keys to the car.
He clicked the button that would unlock the doors, having pointed the keypad in the direction needed. He pulled up slowly, his senses tingling. He had heard a distinctive 'click'..another, that was a rather unsettling one.
He knew instantly that...he was not alone.
He waited patiently.
"....Going somewhere.." The deep baritone was not a familiar one he recognized. "Jerk off?"
A man stepped out of the shadows of an adjoining tunnel. He was of large stature, not as tall as McBain, himself, but his shoulders were much more broad, his bulk and physique honed and impressive. His face was what one would call, ruggedly handsome, but there was battle scars that life had given him marring parts of that striking visage.
In his outstretched hand, he held a rather lethal looking weapon. It was pointed directly at Addison McBain's own handsome face.
"You must be..." McBain smiled ingratiatingly. "Special Agent, Duvalier, yes? We have not officially met."
"Well..." The man drawled, a slight Canadian accent hinted at in the tone. "We're meeting now."
"So we are." McBain inclined his head, his smile becoming a genuine one.
Duvalier's eyes were cold and empty, even though his words held none of the quality. "...Where is she?"
McBain did not pretend to misunderstand. "Oh, I should imagine, by now she is huddled protectively in the very capable arms of Captain James Brass." His brow furrowed somewhat. "I am afraid I rather underestimated that man's intelligence. It will not happen again, I assure you."
A quietness fell over the scene. McBain took the moment to study his adversary. "May I ask for an attorney now, or must I wait to be officially incarcerated?"
Duvalier said nothing.
"What charge will apply? The evidence you possess is rather meager against me, is it not?"
The silence was unbroken.
McBain smiled slightly, enjoying himself, surprisingly. "I am here today to collect soil samples..you will have noted the case in my hand. There is a nasty rumor that those that managed my...enterprise. The lumber business. Were illegally dumping toxic waste into this drainage system."
Duvalier shifted comfortably, nothing more.
"..I wished to find the truth for myself. I plan to re-open this site, you see. That is why I am here today."
"And the Easter bunny shits out chocolate eggs..is that the crap you're going with?" It was scoffed. "Really?"
"I shall put my faith in your sterling legal system and my absurdly over-priced lawyers, I think, to raise enough 'reasonable doubt'.." McBain spread his hands apologetically. "As to my innocence, or even my involvement, for that matter. I can be very convincing, sir..when I wish to be."
"What about Haley? She can identify you."
"Now really, Agent. I can not give away all my little secrets, can I? Suffice to say," the man explained readily. "I will handle the matter in due course. I am ready for this farce to begin, in which case. Shall we proceed?"
The silence came again and this time, there was something decidedly eerie about it. McBain cocked his head to one side, scrutinizing the enigma before him.
"...Yeah." Duvalier nodded minutely. "I'm ready." Came the quiet reply finally. "I've..been ready."
And with that stated, the man pulled the trigger of his nine millimeter ruger four consecutive times, each projectile hitting it's mark precisely.
All grouped rather nicely around the left ventricle of Addison McBain's heart.
The other man's body jerked hard with each penetration into his giving flesh. He staggered back a few steps with the impact, his legs giving way. He hit the wet slosh of water and cement floor, the flashlight and grey case clanging noisily on the ground beside him.
His face registered the shock of the moment, nothing more. His mouth falling slightly agape.
Blood flowed out the wounds, staining the blue pin-striped shirt he wore, ruining his silk tie.
He stared at Vincent Duvalier, shaking his head slightly from side to side. "...you really are quite insane, aren't you." The fact seemed to amuse the man.
He laughed hollowly, blood trickling from the right corner of his mouth. The man felt the flow, his tongue lashing out to taste the liquid. He closed his eyes, savoringly.
"Takes one to know one, I guess." Duvalier lowered his arm and his weapon, absently replacing the gun into it's proper place on his utility belt.
McBain fell forward with a heavy thud, his body toppling into the dank slime.
Duvalier reached into his flack vest, producing another weapon. He walked leisurely, kneeling alongside the body of McBain. He pressed the man's finger prints on the throw away pistol, tossing it aside. It scraped along the cement, landing a few feet away.
The man arose, turning his back on the scene. He clicked his communication device to 'active'..adjusting his ear piece and microphone to better fit his mouth area. "..This is Special Agent Duvalier, FBI. Suspect is down..repeat..suspect is down. Medical assistance is requested."
Duvalier glanced to the body behind him. 'For all the good it will do the bastard'. He thought to himself. "I am North of the building, behind the fence. I am stepping out into view. The chopper should be able to zero in on my location."
He glanced up into the brightness of the sky. "Suspect is down, need medical assistance."
He could hear the faint beat of the helicopter blade in the distance to the East. He shielded his eyes, making out the familiar shape looming on the horizon.
He could see black and whites converging on the back gate, about four hundred yards from his position.
The man lit a camel, shielding the lighter from the slight wind that was blowing today.
He took a long drag of the hot smoke, exhaling slowly, glancing into the cool darkness of the drainage tunnel. The grey Explorer sat quietly, two day's layer of dust on it's hood.
The blood from McBain's body mingled with the runoff from the tunnel's floor, turning it rust.
Duvalier took the time to survey his surroundings, ignoring the sirens that were fast approaching.
For the present, it was relatively quiet, considering.
Las Vegas was too damned hot for his tastes. He liked a change of seasons. There was no color here. The mountains to the West were majestic but, could he chose, he would live in Maine, perhaps. Right on the edge of the Atlantic Ocean.
The man had never really thought about one particular place or of settling into that slot that most people work all their lives for.
More and more of late, however. He found himself wondering.
He used to think others were saps for such folly, the thought of the daily grind of a nine to five job or the responsibility of kids..a wife? It was just not something he wanted to explore.
He had always been restless. As a younger man, the allure of the horizon had pulled him magnetically onward.
But, that was before.
Before fucking Haley Sunshine Meadows came into his life and wreaked everything.
The bitch.
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