Pt. 17

Miriam slid quietly through the shadows, blending in to the darkness with a practiced ease. From her vantage point – hidden by the low-hanging branches of an overgrown shrub – she could see the target's car pull into a shadowy spot beside the park's fence and stop. The killer hopped out quickly, looking much as he had that day years before when she had tried to erase him from the face of the planet. He still moved with those quick, nervous steps, as though he expected something to jump out at him from behind every bush. "Well, maybe something will" she thought wryly. Miriam watched her target unlock his trunk and drag something large and heavy from its depths, depositing the item beside the car then he turned and walked into the park, heading for the rendezvous point. From the almost animal sounds emanating from the item, she deduced that it must be one of his final victims. For a moment she considered shooting the poor wretch but decided against it, knowing the killer's reaction to loosing his prey would giver her position away to Michael. She slid backwards on her belly, crawling to a new vantage point to watch the upcoming meeting.

Michael and Kermit stationed themselves at opposite ends of the clearing, each man watching the dark, overgrown areas cautiously. Kermit hadn't said a word to the handsome Section agent after he had returned from his cursory search for Miriam, except to point out that they hadn't much time to get ready. Michael hadn't had much to say either, his mind racing with possible ways this scenario could end.

Peter had made sure to park his car in the one open and still well lit part of the old park, wondering how long it would take for the killer to make his move. "I really hate this part of it," he griped.

"This part of what, my son?" Caine asked calmly, folding his long legs under him as he sat down on the gravel parking lot.

"Waiting for something to happen." Peter replied, starting to pace. He stopped suddenly, cocking his head to one side as an unusual sound reached his ears. "Pop? Do you hear…?"

But Caine had already heard the muffled cries of the killer's prisoner. He started off quickly into the park, following the moans to their origin with Peter following closely behind him. Suddenly he stopped, sweeping his arm back to keep Peter from moving forward. "Wait!" he whispered.

"What?" Peter stopped, peering into the darkness in front of him. "I don't see anything."

"There is a dark string tied between the trees in front of us at eye level and another a few feet away tied at the level of our ankles." Caine ducked quickly under the string in front of him and motioned Peter to follow his lead. "Tread carefully. I fear this man has set traps for any who dare to come into his presence."

Miriam watched the pair as they negotiated the traps set for them by the killer. "Clever." She mused, watching the older priest carefully lead his son through the maze. "Very clever. Pity he has a soul. He might have been useful." She looked up suddenly, her sharp hearing detecting the sound of an approaching car. "Well, gangs all here. I guess it's time to wrap up this little game. Too bad. I was beginning to have fun." She crawled forward another few yards and watched the dark car pull up behind her targets vehicle. The driver hopped out and pulled open the back door for a tall, dark figure. The figure walked slowly over to where the imprisoned victim was still laying beside the first car and calmly lit a cigarette before walking in the same direction as the killer.

Miriam waited until the taller figure had disappeared into the park before confronting the driver. He never knew what hit him, the bullet to the back of his head taking his life in a few seconds. As his lifeless form collapsed at her feet, Miriam reached inside the car and appropriated the cell phone that had been on the drivers seat. She quickly dialed and number and waited impatiently for an answer.

"Yes?" Operations asked, his familiar voice sounding as though he were standing beside her, instead of miles away.

"Hey old man, it's your favorite rogue." Miriam replied glibly. "Tell Michael's backup team it's time to come in and pick up the pieces."

"Why should I do that?"

"Because you're curious to see what I've been up to, because you're worried Michael and I might get into a shooting war and give away our secret little world, or maybe just because you can. I don't care what rational you use, just get them moving. I'm working on a tight schedule here." She clicked off the line and quickly dialed another number.

"Is it done?" the voice asked, not bothering with a greeting.

"As soon as the backup team makes their move, I'll make mine. I take it I'm not to come home with any new pets?" Miriam slowly inched her way around the dead body at her feet and popped the car's trunk to reveal another covered and squirming figure. She gingerly pulled away the blanket that covered the figure's face to reveal the sweating, tortured features of Karl Mathews – drug manufacturer and ally of the Red Cell terrorist organization. She smiled grimly then slid the blanket back over his terrified face.

"You're to approach this as always. Eliminate all your targets." The voice sounded calm, as though they were discussing the purchase of a new dress, not the murder of several individuals.

"What about Caine and his companions?" Miriam asked, standing and preparing to follow the path back into the park.

"Your recommendation would be…?" the voice asked.

"Surveillance. Nothing more. They aren't wired in enough to threaten us. If need be, I can always find them later. And I think that at least Detective Caine and his friend Kermit Griffen might prove useful later on, given the right handling."

"Agreed."

Miriam signed off then tossed the cell phone into the grass. She moved a few steps away from the bound figures of Mathews and bent over the first captive still on the ground. With a practiced ease she placed the barrel of her silenced revolver against his head and pulled the trigger. The man's struggles ended abruptly and with them his pain. She carefully partially closed the trunk, leaving Mathews in the dark but with enough air flow to survive at least until the backup team retrieved him. After that, his life became the property of Section, a fate she heartily wished on any Red Cell ally. Looking around she checked her handiwork then glanced down at her watch. Time was growing short. The mission was almost to an end. She jogged down the path for a few feet than moved quickly into the brush. Ahead, she could hear the confrontation beginning.