Boston Blood: The first Frank McKenzie Thriller (21 page)

‘I wouldn’t risk it unless you want to ride on back there with the rest of the heroes.’ Shouts Jason.

The hooded man heads Jason’s remarks and gingerly makes his way back to his spot on the floor. He kneels back down and looks up at a curious Jason.

‘What’s your name?’

The hooded man doesn’t reply. He remains motionless as he casually looks Jason in the eye.

‘A man of few words ay, that’s a good thing. The model hostage’ States Jason

Jason raises his hands up like a preaching pastor.

‘Now this ladies and gentleman is what a hostage should be doing. You are in my custody and it’s natural to want to take my head off. It’s natural to want to kill me and run for the hills where theirs safety and comfort away from the big bad man with the AK and side arms. But this right here, this man right here is probably going to be the only surviving passenger. Do you know why? Because he is doing exactly what I’m asking of him, you can learn off someone like him. Stop your bitching and crying people. Stop trying to be the heroes you’re so obviously not. Stop being the stereo typical hostage.
Start being like this guy
.’

The hooded man keeps staring at Jason as he walks away from the bloodied floor in front of the passengers and sits down on the seat overlooking them on the far end of the cabin.

Seventy Eight

The bolt on the rifle snaps back once again. This time the torque is meaningful, as if the sound describes the feeling in the air. The man aims the scope east. The cars pull in. One patrolling Lexus is stationed at the front. Blues and reds spiral out of the car’s windshield as the doors of the front car open. The neon lights escape the gaps in the windows and hit the pavement, lighting it up as shadows block the sun. Two armed men step out of the flashing front car just as the middle stretch limo pulls up. The shiny black limo grinds to a halt and remains idle as another Lexus pulls in tightly behind the limo in the middle. The man feels beads of sweat drop down the side of his face as he steadies his aim. For a long moment there is no movement from him or the cars below. The only thing moving is the rippling flag in the wind attached to the front bonnet of the limo. The crowd erupts as the armed men in suits open the far door of the limo. The lights from the stationary Lexus’s buffer off the matt black shoes that peak out of the limo door just before they hit the ground. The president emerges from the car waving as a round of applause echoes the street. The man steadies his rifle, the wind picks up slightly as he nervously moves his finger onto the trigger. He pans his reticule over the president’s head and waits for the right moment. The convoy of human flesh consisting of two armed guards at each side of the president coerce him down the street. They pass the Lexus at the front, the red and blue lights reflect off the right sided guards sunglasses. The man finalizes his aim and presses the trigger. The bullet dips in the wind and hits its mark. The red and blue lights are met with a redder dinge as the guards sunglasses are spattered with residue. The crowd screams in unison just as the sound of the bullet catches up. The popping sound alerts a sea of police man cordoning off the surrounding area for the convoy. One of the guards with sunglasses pulls out his side arm and sweeps the area. The secret police guards are bent down over the president as he lies on his back. Blood surrounds the corpse in a pool of red. The panic from the onlookers is loud and hectic. The rifle man is downstairs in minutes as he makes his way through the hotels kitchen. He pushes through the pot washers and slams the fire exit door open. The chefs look on at each other in confusion as the sound of sirens echo in the distance.

Seventy Nine

‘So this angle covers the whole area of the toilets?’ Asks Shaw as the man twiddles a dial on the massive CCTV console.

‘Yep’

‘So were going to see everything?’ Asks Shaw once again

‘Yeah, he’s just walking in now; I’ll play it from the moment he steps up to the urinal.

Eddie turns to Shaw and nods his head as they both hover over the man’s shoulder as he presses a button unfreezing the crystal clear image on the screen. The TV shows Frank lumbering over the urinal. Both Eddie and Chief Shaw keep their eyes on the door in the distance of the shot. They both wait in anticipation to see who steps through it. Their daze is interrupted by the CCTV operator.

‘Holy shit’ the man gasps

They break their stare from the door on the screen and dart their eyes to Frank who is being flung around. They see Frank’s head get driven into the urinal and him get thrown into the wall. They both look at each other in shock as the man replays the incident a few times, pausing it and playing it. He lets it play on after a third play through until an officer walks into the shot and calls for back up as Frank lays on the floor unconscious.

‘What in God’s name was that?’ Asks Eddie

The CCTV operator looks on in shock and then turns his head to the DA.

‘I have no idea. It’s like he beat himself up.’

‘No way, I can’t believe he would do that. There must be another explanation. Could the tape have been tampered with? Maybe someone digitally enhanced it and got rid of the attacker.’ Asks Shaw

The man twizzles his chair around to face both Shaw and Smith, the chair squeaking as he does so.

‘That’s not possible. I’ve been here for all of my shift. I haven’t left this post, not even to take a leak.’ Explains the man

Shaw shakes his head in disbelief.

‘So you’re telling me, Frank McKenzie beat himself up in the toilets, smashed his own head into a urinal, twice! And finished himself off by catapulting himself head first into a hard wall?’ asks Eddie. 

‘It appears so’ States the CCTV operator.

‘Wow and I thought I had problems’ Says Shaw.

‘What a nut job’ Adds the operator

Shaw’s face lights up.

‘You think he knows about his brother?’

Eddie turns to the operator and signals him to leave the room. He obliges and hurriedly walks out leaving Shaw and Smith in the room alone.

‘What makes you think that?’ Asks Eddie

‘I don’t know, maybe he wants to blame me for keeping his brother’s death from him. Not to mention him attacking me, he could easily set me up for the fall and get my badge pulled.’

‘Not with that CCTV evidence. You’d be clear of him setting you up for assault. It just doesn’t make sense. I know Frank is a bit crazy, I mean after all that’s what makes him a good Detective. I just don’t think he’d physically assault himself in a bathroom. ’

‘You’re not wrong there Eddie. Whatever it is we need to find out what really happened.’

Eighty

‘Alright folks, this is it. Washington has caved into pressure and is allowing us to proceed with the extraction mission into the M.I.T building. The rules are pretty simple. Me and Detective Frank McKenzie will be running the operation and you men will be leading us into the fray. The mandate for the mission is as follows. All resistance aimed at us when we enter the building will be met with lethal force. Bear in mind that this is a rescue mission. We need all the hostages alive. So aim for the dome. A few shots will do. I don’t want a hail storm in the building. We cannot be taking any casualties. Innocents need to be protected so no spraying. Second of all, the capturing of Connor Chase is essential. Washington wants him alive. I’m sure the only reason for that being is that they want to make him into an example to stop any potential copy cats recreating his carnage. The rest is pretty straight forward. We will go over the plans in the van on the way there. Keep your wits about you ladies and gentleman. Stay frosty out there, any questions?’ Asks Mullins as he stands in front of a group of eight men and two woman wearing flak jackets.

Frank McKenzie is standing next to him looking on. He gingerly raises his arm with a smirk on his face. The surrounding group of officers quietly laugh to themselves in anticipation of what Frank has to say. Mullins turns to Frank and sighs.

‘Yes Detective?’ He asks

‘Just one question Officer Mullins.’ Says Frank

‘Spit it out then’

Frank smiles at the tall scrawny officer

‘It’s just I’m a bit confused. Why is it that Chief Shaw teamed me up with a wannabe Power Ranger?’

The officers ignite in laughter. Mullins looks on in frustration.

‘That’s a good question Detective. I’m wondering something similar myself.’

‘Is that so…?’

‘I’m wondering why the Chief has teamed me up with an abusive, alcoholic asshole that only cares about himself. I mean Frank, if you don’t enjoy my company then why don’t you have a little chat with one of those voices in your head? Only a crazy fool like you can be that naive to think that everybody in the department hasn’t noticed what a fruit loop you are.’

The on looking crowd of officers quickly fall into silence as Frank gages his eyes at them. He slowly turns to face Officer Mullins and plants a stiff right jab on his jaw. Mullins falls back against the van behind him. A few officers come to his aid and break the fight up. Chief Shaw enters the car park to see the ruckus. He puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles. The noise echoes off the granite walls and pings the attention of the men in the parking structure.

‘What’s going on here?’ Screams Shaw as he approaches Frank and Mullins. 

‘Nothing sir’ Says Frank

Shaw looks at Mullins whose nose is bleeding.

‘What happened to your nose?’ Asks Shaw

‘I get nose bleeds sometimes’

‘Whatever, that’s besides point. Something big just went down. The president was assassinated a few minutes ago in Washington outside some posh hotel. It was a professional job; the shot went clean through his skull, instant death. Washington fears that the events here are connected. They have called off the extraction mission until they know more.’

The room goes quiet for a long moment.

‘Did they catch the guy who did it?’ asks Frank

‘No, but whoever did it is now Washington’s number one priority.’

Eighty One

Sandra and Mike are stood at the train station overlooking the tracks. The station is nearly empty as passengers and workers have boarded trains and finished shifts. Mike sits down on a bench. Sandra joins him. He turns to her, his face glum and depressed.

‘This must be one of the worst days of my life. It’s minus three degrees and I’m stuck at a train station that is about as exciting as sucking on lemons. Not to mention me and you aren’t on our way to Washington to cover the assassination.’

Sandra cups her head in frustration.

‘God Mike give it a rest. This is our job, show a little decorum. We go where we are told to go. All I’ve heard from you today is you pissing and moaning about the situation. The president has just been killed and all you care about is the fact that you’re not filming the aftermath. Fuck sake just shut the hell up!’

‘You’ve been my cameraman for a long time and its only today that I have realized what a selfish prick you are.’

‘Have you finished?’ asks Mike

Sandra exhales and nods. She sits down next to him. Her breath is visible in the cold Boston air. ‘Look, I’m sorry Mike. I know it’s a shitty day. We just have to suck it up. You never know, we could catch a break. Maybe someone interesting is going to come off the train. And we will be the first on the scene.’

‘Maybe we’re just here because Bob wants us out of the studio and out on the field, waiting for some B list celebrity to give his take on the day’s events. I do know one thing, I’m done after this.’

Eighty Two

Connor Chase is sitting down in his makeshift office. He flicks his zippo lighter on and off, intently looking at the flame as he does so. He slams his fist hard on the desk.

‘Someone get the hell in here’ He shouts.

The door bursts open and two of his goons walk in. Both men are strapped with automatic weapons. Their heavy bulk fills the room as they stare at their boss who’s playing with the flame coming off his lighter. Connor runs his finger through the naked flame, his knuckles singe at contact. He smiles a sadistic grin. He looks up at his two employees. His smile washes off his face immediately.

‘How the hell did this happen?’ He shouts

The two men look at each other in confusion.

‘How did what happen sir?’ Asks one of the men

‘I don’t know, maybe the whole president getting assassinated on the same day I call for a 28
amendment, it’s a bit counterproductive don’t you think?’

Both men remain confused. One of them nudges the other to speak up.

‘I don’t know sir. Your guess is as good as mine.’

Connor gets up from his seat and swipes off the contents of his desk with his arm. The sound of breaking glass echoes through the room as the contents of Connor’s desk hits the floor.

‘That’s not good enough. I want answers. Find out who killed the president and report back to me. Whilst you’re at it, one of you get Jason on the phone. We need to get this situation under control. It’s time to sop fucking around. Get the camera back online and get twenty five hostages bagged up. I’m going to make sure that they regret keeping me in the dark.’

Eighty Three

‘Understood’ Says Jason as he hangs up the mobile phone; he snaps the LED screen into place and turns to face the terrified passengers.

‘Okay here’s the deal. I’m splitting the passengers up. I’ll randomly select people to move and sit near me. After that, every one of you will help me tie the remaining passengers up. Then I will take you to the back of the train and you will be free to go. The train will stop five miles before the station. The remainder of the passengers will stay on. I will escort you guys out to the wooded area before the station and tie you up. You will remain there until the police find you. The passengers that remain on the train will be picked up by the police at the station.’

The crowd of hostages mumble in confusion. One of the passengers puts his hand up. Jason smiles and nods at him.