Thicker Than Blood (24 page)

"Well, now you're going to run even later. Your number's up." A second guard walked up on the passengers side. Hand on his holstered gun. "Please step out of the truck slowly." Skyler felt fear wash over him. I know these guys, I don't want to have to hurt them, he thought. He pulled his jacket on as he opened the door and stepped down. "Does my wife have to get dressed?" Skyler asked shrugging his shoulders. The guard looked at his T-shirt clad wife in the passenger seat. "No, I think you'll do." He smiled. Good, I still have control of the situation. "Okay, we need you to open the trailer up for us." Uh oh, that's not routine. He thought of the Monopoly "go to jail" card. "Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars." "Really, do we need too?" "Sorry Skyler, the alert level was raised." He walked to the back of the truck. I hope Anna Belle is watching, he thought. He unlocked the back swinging doors and opened them, revealing the line of pallets within. Skyler felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as a third officer emerged from the glare of the morning sunrise. He was walking a German Shepherd. He resisted the urge to pull his handgun. He couldn't see Anna Belle, but he knew she was ready now too. He looked on as the dog hopped up inside the trailer, and began sniffing around the pallets. His chest heaved as he tried to look bored and sleepy. The dog paused at Joe's pallet and squeaked a little, but kept searching. He prayed the dog was not tired. If he sits down, people will die today. When the dog reached the back of the trailer, his officer turned around and lead him back out by the short leash. I must have passed, Shotgun thought. "Okay Skyler, sorry about that. Just sign here and we'll see you again soon." His hand shook as he leaned down and signed the clipboard. He was grateful for the cold, it hid his fear well.

"Council Frank, do you think your needs supersede the interests of the United States Government?" The judge looked annoyed. "Not his, Dr. Teressa Graceland's," Lucy yelled out. She looked angry. Her lawyer Lewis Frank turned to her. "Lucy be quiet, it's not your turn to speak." The judge spoke, "You would be wise to listen to your lawyer. Unless you want to donate your bail money to New York State." "Your honor, I think what she is trying to say is while I have been retained by Miss Kane, I am not acting as her lawyer, but as Teressa Graceland's." "Well you should tell your client that some very important people need to speak to her, and she should turn herself in to the nearest police precinct immediately." "That's the problem, your honor. We don't know where she is." "It sounds like we agree." "We have reason to believe she is being held in violation of her rights at a prison normally reserved for enemy combatants." "Those are serious accusations being levied," the judge paused, "Being levied against somebody somewhere." A few people in the back of the packed courtroom chuckled. "Except for the police report that says ten New York city police officers where assigned to a special task force that participated in a raid a week ago, and were indeed witnessed apprehending her." Council Frank pulled a paper out of his briefcase. The judge waved him up to her bench. He walked the paper up to her. The judge scanned the paper. "Okay, so the precinct should be able to tell you who has custody of Dr. Graceland." "They deny having arrested her. According to Staff Sargent Tollhouse the police there were just serving as bodyguards for federal agents making the arrests." Frank Lewis looked stern. "The report listed three FBI agents by name and two unnamed MIR lawyers." "I see that." The judge was reading more carefully now. "So did you contact the FBI officers? They must have performed the arrest." "Yes I did your honor, but all three deny performing the arrest." "Really. Do you have that in writing?" "No. I was told I will get it in the mail in two days. That was five days ago." "This is pretty serious council Frank, but I have one question for you." The judge pulled her reading glasses off. "Why me?" The courtroom laughed again. "If any charges were actually brought against Teressa Graceland, she would have been charged in this federal circuit. Likewise any kidnapping case would be tried here as well." "Why do you think she is in a military prison?" "At great personal expense, Lucy Kane obtained the flight plan of the private plane that the unnamed MIR lawyers used. She originally received a bogus flight plan which did not check out at the destination. Only by offering to pay an anonymous airport official did she get the real plan." He pulled another paper out of his briefcase. "The plane's next stop was Cuba." Council Frank brought the new papers to the judges bench. "I think I see where you are going with this." The judge put her glasses back on and squinted at the paper. Members of the press were scribbling furiously in the benches. "This court orders Staff Sargent Tollhouse to appear Monday. We are adjourned until then." Lucy grinned.

When Amman opened his eyes, a dark figure in robes towered over him. He couldn't make out his face in the dim light. "You know the woman doctor was here for a day," the man's voice was calm and confident. He had a middle eastern accent, possibly Iranian. Amman braced himself for a fight. In a weeks time, he had only seen guards, soldiers and lawyers. Something wasn't right. How did he get here? "For one day she was just like us. She ate the food. She breathed the foul air. She slept on the urine soaked bedding we sleep on. For a day she led the life of a noble man." "Who are you?" Amman inquired. He slowly extended his legs across the cot to the wall of his prison cell. He felt his muscles tense as his feet found the wall. The man continued speaking, ignoring Amman's question. "She has known privilege few women could know. She wields power over men. Not the nurturing love, but a commanding power." Amman was in serious trouble. He tried to keep a straight face, but he could not be sure his fear was not seeping through. "Even the men you cower before ultimately bow to her will. They answer to her whims. They've already sent her back home. She makes them dance as if they were puppets." "Guard! Guard!" Amman would not live out his life here for murder, nor did he want to die. "Islam demands you follow Allah's will, and not only do you not walk the path, you've stopped all others. See what trusting the infidels does for you? Where are you now? Without God, who can save you?" The man lunged at Amman. He pulled a shank from his robes. Amman grabbed the man's hand with both of his. The larger man struggled to overpower him. Realizing Amman was braced against the wall, he shifted around to lean over him. Amman sensed his opportunity. He lunged away from the wall with his legs easily clearing the narrow cot. The man, clinging onto the shank, spun around and fell on top of him. The six inch shank sunk deep into the man's stomach. He screeched as he impaled himself. Amman recognized the man from his meetings in Tehran. He was an Iranian minister. He must have heard the great betrayer was here, he thought. He scowled and looked deep in the dying mans eyes, "You tell me you know the path? Do you even know what a nanite is? You have to comprehend Allah's will to serve it. You serve only death." He heard the guards coming, now that a death cry echoed through the halls. How convenient, he thought sarcastically. "Infidel! Traitor," the man coughed in Farsi spattering blood in Amman's face. "You betrayed Iran, Islam, and mankind Abdul. Apocalypse was not yours to start." Two guards pulled Abdul's bloody limp body off Amman. Two more soldiers pulled him up on his feet and punched him in the stomach. He tried not to laugh at the guards, he had endured much worse. Abdul was right though, he thought as the guards dragged him off. Holy men, politicians, even friends ultimately serve their own ends. Only a family can share the kind of love that overcomes all. I hope Mark never regrets abandoning me, but I know he will.

Joe's ears were hot. He could feel the blood boiling under his skin. He sneered as he rocked back and forth in his toxic waste tomb. He held himself as he rocked, trying to soothe his rage. Maybe it was the constant noise in his ears of the truck grinding over the decaying Canadian roads. Maybe it was persistent vibration every time his head knocked into the inside wall of the barrel. Maybe it was because it was his first time alone since his father had been murdered. Those bastards. First her and now him too, Joe thought. Those bastards, I could have fixed it. I could have talked with my sober father again. I could have told him about how wrong it has all gone. How much I love Lucy and Finny. Maybe I would have forgiven him for loving my mothers sister. Now I can't. I can't strut around and pretend to be angry at him. I can't tell him how much I miss mom. They took that from me. You only get one insane screwed up family and they took that from me. You greedy, short sighted, power hungry monsters. They were mine! He wiped his nose with his hand and realized it was wet. He hadn't even noticed he was crying. Why did this happen to me? Because I'm sick? Because my body doesn't make some fucking protein? Because I was curious about how a robot that was floating around in my own blood? Because my aunt wanted to cure immune disease? That bitch! He kicked the inside of the barrel denting it slightly with a loud bong noise. His shoulder throbbed with the movement. I'll kill them. I'll kill them all. I don't care if I have to dedicate my whole life to it. I'll do whatever it takes. They killed my family. They wrecked the A-team. They took Lucy and any friends I knew from me. They shot me.

They should have aimed for the head. Big mistake. Joe stared wide eyed into the pitch black. I'll be done when Nathan Jones, no wait, I can't die until Scott Conner is dead. There can be no other, no greater purpose. You can lie to everyone else, but not me. You're either with me or against me, he thought. As he rocked himself, he felt himself choke. I can't even go to his funeral, he thought. "Oh God, Dad," he moaned. Joe sobbed and wept aloud.

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