Amanda's Story (34 page)

“I'm sorry to bother you this late, Detective.” Lister had shown up at Greg's door unannounced with four agents in tow.

Greg looked over Lister's shoulder. “I see you've brought company.” Greg stepped out of the way. “Come on in.” Lister entered alone. Greg closed the door after watching the other agents fan out across his front yard. “I'm guessing this is more than a social call,” he said, drawing even with Lister in the entrance way.

“I'm afraid so.” Lister had to look up at the taller detective. “I've got some questions for both you and your wife.”

Greg's eyebrow rose. “My wife?” Lister nodded solemnly. “Lisa, we have company,” Greg called. “Well, follow me to the kitchen; that's where I keep her chained up.”

Introductions were made and the three sat around the kitchen table. “Do you know where Amanda is?” Lister asked Lisa, without the usual pleasantries.

Her face spoke volumes. “Why?” She fired back, using a tone Greg had heard countless times before, all from guilty suspects.

“We would like to question her regarding the murder of a man in Washington, but I'm guessing you already suspected that.” He waited for an answer, but both of the Flynns remained silent. “She wasn't at her apartment.”

“You're making a mistake, Special Agent,” Lisa said with conviction. Greg started, and she turned to him. “I won't keep quiet. She's not responsible for this, and in my mind she's done nothing wrong.” She started to tear up and angrily wiped her eyes. “The son of a bitch shot her,” she yelled at Greg. “He got what he deserved,” she said, turning back to Lister.

“That's not my call to make, Mrs. Flynn. All I want to do is bring her in safely.”

“Good luck with that,” Lisa said sarcastically.

“Lisa, you are making this worse,” Greg said, raising his voice.

“How, by telling the truth? For three months they kept her from us, made us think that she was dead, while they experimented on her. Now they want to arrest her for defending herself. That's just too much.” Lisa shook her head at Greg and then at Lister. “No. Too much has been taken from that woman already.”

“I can arrest both of you for obstruction of justice.” Lister's tone was more coercive than hostile.

“Back off, Lister. I've seen your evidence and it's paper-thin. Your medical examiner is not even sure there was a murder, so don't start threatening us.” Greg's tone was completely hostile.

“We will find her; it's only a matter of time. The only question that remains is how she is brought into custody.” Lister had waited a few moments for the atmosphere to calm.

Greg stole a glance at Lisa and she stared back. “Special Agent, I have been in your shoes more times than I care to remember, and I know how I would respond to what I'm about to say, so I'm hoping that you show better judgment.” He paused and took a deep breath. “You are not going to take Amanda into custody. She won't allow it. If you threaten her, she could become unstable.”

“So you‘re warning me that any attempt to arrest her will become violent …” A car pulling into the driveway interrupted Lister.

“What the hell?” Greg yelled when he recognized the Jeep's familiar shape. “Why am I cursed with such head-strong women?” he said, already running to the door. He opened it just in time to see one of Lister's agents being launched into the hedge grove. Lister himself tried to squeeze around Greg. “Whoa there,” Greg said, grabbing the agent's right arm and collar. “Drop the weapon.” Greg forced Lister's arm down, and the handgun fell to the floor.

“God damn it, Flynn,” Lister said as Greg pushed him back into the house. Amanda slowly walked up the steps and into the entranceway.

“There were three more out there.” Greg faced Amanda, his back shielding her from Lister.

She nodded. “When they wake up they'll be going back home,” she said casually. She kissed his cheek and brushed passed him. Lisa immediately enveloped her in a hug. “Hi,” she whispered into her mother-in-law's hair. “I'm okay; you don't have to suffocate me.”

Lister stood to the side, clearly at a loss. “Amanda Flynn, I am placing you under arrest …” Amanda waved him off and walked into the kitchen. Lister followed, reciting her rights. “Do you understand your rights?” he asked as she sat in one of the chairs.

“Mr. Lister, will you please sit down?” Amanda answered.

“Where are my agents?” He remained standing, Greg looming over him.

“They're fine. They might have a headache, but they'll get over it. Now please, can we all sit and work this out?”

Lister moved tentatively towards his chair and then sat as Lisa took her seat. “There's nothing to work out. I have an arrest warrant.”

“I know, and a Hostage Rescue Team at my apartment. The first problem that needs working out is that I need to get into my apartment before I leave. The second problem is you bothering Greg and Lisa. I can't allow that.” She looked up at Greg. “And I can't allow you to put yourself at risk.” She looked back to the FBI agent. “So, since we have a Hostage Rescue Team, I was thinking we need a hostage.” Amanda smiled at Lister.

“You can't be serious,” he scoffed. “Talk some sense into her, Flynn.” He looked up at Greg.

“I know what I'm doing,” Amanda mouthed to her father-in-law. “Let's be clear. They have nothing to do with this. This is just you and me.” Her eyes blazed as they bore into Lister. “So, Special Agent Lister, why don't you have a seat while I get ready and then we'll go.” Amanda stood, and Lister followed suit. “Come with me if you want.”

“As a hostage?” Lister looked to Greg and then back at Amanda. “Let's say for the sake of argument that I am a hostage. What's to stop me from leaving?”

“Absolutely nothing. If you want, I can take one of your agents outside. In their current state they will be far more compliant.” Amanda pointed to the window, her manner completely relaxed. “Can you please take a step back, Special Agent?”

Lister barred her way. She tried to go around him and once again he stepped in front of her. “I can't let you do this.”

“Mr. Lister, this is childish and very irritating. Remember what Greg told you about me becoming unstable.” She tried a third time to skirt the agent; again he blocked her way, this time reaching for her arm. In an instant he was slammed into the refrigerator door, his right arm pinned painfully behind him. “I have no issue with you, Paul. I understand that you are just doing your job, and I don't want to hurt you. I just want to be left alone.” Almost a full minute passed as Lister struggled to breathe.

Lisa stifled a cry. “Let him go, Amanda!”

Lister slumped to the floor and Amanda bent to face him. “Now do you see?” She whispered, and he returned her intense stare.

“Yes,” he said, panting.

Amanda stood and turned to find a mixture of fear, horror, and revulsion pouring out of the Flynns. “I'm sorry you had to see that.”

“What did you do to him?” Lisa asked.

“I didn't hurt him, Lisa.” The look on Lisa's face wounded Amanda's soul; never before did she look so much like Josh. “I showed him what happened, and what could happen.” She turned to Greg, who had always looked like Michael. He took a step away from her. “I have to go,” she said quickly, and she practically ran from the room.

Ten minutes later Lisa knocked on Amanda's bedroom door. “Come in, Mom,” she said.

“I've always liked the sound of that,” Lisa said. “I don't know how, but I saw what was in your mind, Amanda.”

“The connection works both ways. My son would see me as a monster, and my husband would be terrified of me.” Her voice and eyes were dry. “I have to go, Lisa, and not just because of this little FBI thing.” She threw the scarf that she was trying to untie to the floor. “I can't see that again. The reality of what I've become reflected in your eyes is enough to destroy what little humanity I have left. I feel like a shipwreck victim clinging to a scrap of wood, wondering if I should just let go and accept my fate.” She stood and Lisa wrapped herself around her. “Did I ever tell you that you and Greg are the only people I can touch?”

“No,” Lisa said, pulling away. “Let's go. Greg's starting to get worried.” Lisa turned to leave. Amanda felt her mother-in-law's torment and inner strength. Lisa was going to let Amanda go, even though it tore her heart out.

Amanda reached for Lisa's hand. “You are the mother of the only man I have ever loved.” The two woman stared as a tear ran down Amanda's cheek. “And this isn't the end.” Lisa turned away and hurried out of the room. Amanda let her go, and then looked around her room one last time. She had wounded Lisa and Greg and now any chance of repairing that injury was being taken away. She followed Lisa down the hall and into the kitchen, enveloped by a cloud of dark emotions.

Special Agent Lister had fully recovered, and the lingering connection told Amanda that he understood his role. He would clear a path for her and ensure that no one got hurt. “Are you ready?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she said simply. “Why don't you go to the Jeep,” she ordered.

Greg looked back to his adopted daughter as Lister left for the front door. “Are you controlling him?”

“No. He understands now. He knows what happened in Washington, and he knows how close to the edge they've pushed me.” She hugged Greg. “No tears or lingering goodbyes, okay? Just know that you and Lisa are my only real connection to this world.” She pulled away and didn't explain her statement.

He wrapped his arm around her and guided her towards the door. “We are always here for you,” he said, tears running down his face. “Sorry,” he said as one of his tears fell onto her cheek.

Lisa stood at the door, a plastic-wrapped teddy bear in her hand. Instinctively, Amanda recoiled.

“Take Fred with you.” Lisa offered her the bear.

Amanda shook her head and backed away as if the bear were radioactive. “I can't.” Her voice broke. “You don't understand what would happen if I touched that. It would kill me.” Lisa pulled the bear back. “Keep it for me. Someday, maybe …”

The reality that she was leaving the only place where she had ever been happy was eating into her self-control. Mittens was no longer the dog of her youth; she had morphed into a beast from Hell, and she raged at the injustice, searching for someone to punish. She started screaming
kill them all!
and Amanda quietly began to join the chant as she drove up into the foothills.

“Are you saying something?” Lister asked cautiously.

“No,” she said abruptly. She even resented the presence of the special agent. She didn't really need him to get to her apartment; she only needed him if no one was to die. “I am going to stop at this gas station and you are going to call the HRT commander and have him move his team back into their vehicle. They have ten minutes from when you make the call. After that anyone who gets in my way will be punished.” She looked over at Lister and repressed a sudden desire to throw him from the moving car. “Are we clear?”

“We are clear. I don't want anyone hurt, Amanda. Is there anything else I can do to ensure that?”

His calming demeanor irritated her. “Just keep them away and all this will be over.” She pulled into the station and slammed the transmission into “Park,” straddling both gas pumps. A few seconds later, a woman in a Subaru hatchback pulled behind Amanda and beeped. Amanda closed her eyes and counted to ten. Mittens screamed louder, and a loud explosion eased some of her anxiety.
There, bitch. Now you need tires more than gas.
She looked over at Lister. “Make the call. We really do not have much time,” she said through clenched teeth.

It took ten minutes of arguing, pleading, and threatening for the HRT team to be recalled. Amanda was pulling back into traffic before eight. The closer she came to her apartment, the closer the walls of the world pressed in on her. She felt the presence of the team sent to arrest her, and Mittens very nearly escaped from her leash. For a moment she seized several of their minds, and only just let go before Amanda broke her promise to the Flynns. Her emotions were blinding her as she raced up the narrow streets. Lister was saying something, but she shut him out. She was running on thoughts of death, murder, torture, pain, blood, screams—images flashed through her mind in a psychedelic, psychotic fury.

Amanda flew into her parking spot, barely conscious that Lister was still with her. “Stay here.” He balked and she forced him back into the seat. “If you want to live, stay here!”

It took her only a few seconds to climb the three flights to her apartment. The air around her had thinned; a bow wave of compressed air pushed everything out of her way. She reached her door and found that it had been breached by the HRT. One of the hinges was sprung, and the door hung at an awkward angle. She touched the wood and found the minds of the two men who had violated her private space. They were close and tantalizingly vulnerable.

Kill them all!
Mittens screamed. Amanda seized their minds and resisted the imperative to squeeze the life from them. She relented and felt their unconscious forms fall to the ground. Mittens was roaring so loud that Amanda had a hard time seeing. The lights of her apartment suddenly burst on and she looked around. Power pulsed through her, and at some level she knew it would need to be vented.

“Bastards!” she screamed as an introduction to a tirade of profanity. Her bedroom had been searched; everything she owned had been touched and examined by total strangers. Strangers who were forcing her to flee the only refuge she had known. Thoughts were racing through her head, and the three windows in her bedroom exploded outward, venting some of the rage. She quickly gathered her things into a suitcase and an overnight bag. She left her bedroom and went to the fireplace mantle to collect a small, sealed brown box. She touched the polished wood and felt a modicum of relief to find that no one had disturbed it. Inside were a watch, a wedding band, fragments of a wallet, and a pair of dog tags. It was the only thing she really needed from her apartment. Everything else could easily be replaced.