Session 08 (Agent Jude)

The email came through in the evening, I was already half way to Charlie’s place when I got the page.  I turned around and sped back home, booting up the computer to see that my recovery had taken too long.  My team, J-Cell was already in the field.  Something must have gone wrong for A-Cell to be calling me in.  They knew I was still recovering.  I was to fly to Williamsport, Pennsylvania on a red-eye.  There I was to meet with K-Cell.  Fuck, something must have gone wrong; not only me going in, but another cell too. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was expecting to see the bodies of my cell rather than rendering aid in a situation.

Charlie was pissed, this would be a roses and chocolates job for sure. Hearing the words ‘whatever’ from a woman, never a pleasant experience.

The red eye was easy, flying wasn’t the problem, touching down in Williamsport. Waiting, that was the problem, but it didn’t take too long in the airport lounge before I realised I was being watched. Not what I was expecting, a tall, muscular, young African American. Trying not to be noticeably obvious, a little had when we were the only ones in here.

I picked up my bag and made for the washroom, rounding the corner. I dropped my bag beside me as I started to take a piss, under my jacket, my hand gripping my .40 calibre and pointing it at the doorway from under my arm.  The big guy entered. The last time a guy like this came at me, it was with a shotgun in my back.  He entered one of the cubicles, stopping to glance at me first, once inside, he said it, something about a good night to be at the opera.  Who talks like that?

It was clear he was who I was waiting for. I could almost smell Fed on him, judging by his stance, and personal presentation, he didn’t seem like a typical field man, maybe an instructor, not your typical door kicker, but he was big and looked experienced.

He introduced himself as Agent Knight - who was I to ask questions, he seemed legit. It wasn’t like I could ask for ID.

I called Jason as I approached the hire car desk, he was in town. Jason, Jasper and a couple of Friendlies. No Jagger. I wanted to get more info, but all I got was an address.

I hired a car and got to talking with Knight. He seemed like a pretty decent guy, he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. I asked him about his cell - they all seemed to gel well - not like us. Jason, dictator, Jasper and I, the dog’s bodies, Jagger, the medic.  No one really had a great understanding of each other or how to work together properly. This K-Cell seemed OK - at least Knight did. more experience than us, that was obvious, I just didn't know how to read him, he was too quiet, a silent confidence about him, like this was all just a walk in the park.

I pulled up at the address Jason had given me, a hotel, checking in and dumping my bag, Knight did the same in the next room down.  Knocking on the door number Jason had given me, it creaked open to reveal Jason and Jasper, both looking tired and angry.  I asked them what I was doing here, only not as politely as I should have, Jason gave me the run down.

Investigating a house - 1206 Spooner Avenue.  Built in the early 1900’s but something about this house was wrong.  Jason found a book detailing that the occupants had begun rituals and sacrifices in the house, worshiping something known as the ‘Black Man”.  It was the sort of thing I had seen in bad horror movies, some sort of sacrifice is supposed to happen, someone gets cold feet and everyone ends up dead.  I was pretty close, however the house seemed to be what’s killing people, It has been burnt down, but apparently rebuilt by a man with no knowledge of how he came to build it.  The house was controlling people.  Even Jasper stated that when they went inside, they found him drinking 6-month-old coffee with cigarette buds in it, and he didn’t know why.  People had committed suicide in there, killed each other; all manner of evil.

Jason’s instructions were, don’t go in, especially armed. The house would most likely make us shoot each other, or ourselves.  He continued to fill us in on how to stop everything, it wasn’t good, Jason was going to make a sacrifice and cast out whatever was in there.

Great, just what we need, Jason going dark side. Again…

It was decided, Knight and I would find someone who fit the bill of dirt bag. Someone fucked up enough to warrant "taking one for the team". Jason was going to study how to do what he needed to do - Jasper, he looked like shit.  He needed sleep.  I took him aside for a minute before starting any plans with Knight.  Jasper was a wreck, he had been having trouble since he arrived in this town, his words were to the effect of "Don't drink the water". Every person he had run into in Meadowbrook was trouble, rattling off names of people. Brian, Yarrow and something to do with Brian’s mom.  I couldn’t help it - I slapped him on the back and told him that he was supposed to be a professional, shit happens and its our job to make it right. Simple.

I turned to Knight and we entered my room, discussing what we thought was appropriate. He wanted to take the time and find someone deserving of this sacrifice. We were on the same page, however time was against us. 48 hours - that was it.  After a lengthy discussion, we settled on a plan. Pimps were always good for removal - men who controlled women, children and drugs.  We decided to hit the streets, it was still early, only 1am.  All the girls would be working.  We took the car and headed into Williamsport, a good 20 miles from the hotel.  There they were as expected on the street corners and in the alleyways.

We canvassed together, approaching girl after girl, something was off, they weren’t talking. I wasn’t reading something right, something in the back of my mind, Jasper, everyone here is wrong, something is off.  No luck, no luck at all.

It was 3am when the low rider slowly cruised up the street we were on and parked a few meters behind our rental.  The occupants, four Hispanic males, one brandishing a baseball bat, the girls had made a call, we were not welcome.  As the four men got out of the car, they began throwing insults, I returned them in kind, my Spanish taking them by surprise.  They were aggressive, very aggressive, Knight got back in the car as I stumbled around acting drunk.  These were the types we were looking for, if one of them got personal, I could probably take at least two before they knew what hit them. I wasn’t sure about Knight, but he still had that calm expression on his face, intimidating enough, I'd hate to see him angry.

The baseball bad slammed into the window next to Knight’s head on the far side of the car as one of the Hispanics threw a wild hook at my head. Dodging it and tagging him back across the jaw was simple.  It was my peripheral vision that concerned me. Knight was out of the car, on the ground, he had taken a hit to the side of the face. As I threw another jab at my attacker, collecting him in the throat, gunfire rang out. Knight had pulled his piece and fired.

Everyone flinched, the Hispanics running back to their car. I pulled my Glock. Shit! This is my service weapon - my registered weapon.

The man in the front seat was reaching for something. Within seconds I was looking at a shiny revolver being raised and the burst of muzzle flash as he fired it. I fired once in return, my shot hitting the windshield just below the roof. Too high.  I fired again and the car began to pull into the road, making a b-line for Knight. Again my shot went wide, hitting the side mirror.  Fuck, what is wrong with me?

Knight wasn't having much luck either, despite his controlled breathing, stance and general professionalism in the situation, shots fired to no effect, as the car began thundering towards him.  Knight calmly stepped back out of the way, up onto the sidewalk, as the car sideswiped our vehicle and sped off. I took one more shot at the rear tyre, squeezing the trigger. I saw the ricochet off the chrome bumper. Jasper was right. This place is off.

The sound of sirens began to echo in the distance. I panicked. Shells! Pick up the brass.  I scrambled to collect our spent shell casings, three of mine and four of Knight’s, Government issue, .40cal, Glock 22.  I jumped into the driver’s seat and took off - it didn’t matter where we were going, just away from here.  We got back to the hotel, enough time for Knight to throw some ice on his face, he was clearly annoyed, he had suffered the same feelings, I could see he knew he should have done more at the time. I knocked on Jasper’s door, he was dozing, answering the door with a vacant look. I explained that he was right, this town is strange, we needed to go, a third man is always better. We also needed the bag of goodies.

I wrapped my personal stuff up again, placing it in the trunk of Jason’s car, the bag of guns collected from O-Cell and green boxes was here, Jason had brought it.  I knew what I wanted, Agent Oliver’s Colt Python, that will do, plus the trusty Glock 17, however the Python was going to be the main stay, no brass to pick up.

Armed and feeling a little better, Knight and Jasper climbed into the backseat, of the car, the front window shattered by the baseball bat.  I drove us back to the neighbourhood, it was 4am, everything was wrapping up.  Perfect timing for us to see a man slapping women before getting in a car and driving away, that was our guy.

Arriving at his house, we waited some 20 minutes before we decided to enter, hoods on, gloves, breach and extract, simple, Jasper and I in first, Knight on backup.  Jasper did the honours, kicking the door clean off the hinges, I turned right into a living area as Jasper made his way through the foyer of the two story house.  I ducked a swinging chair from a screaming, semi naked woman only to twist my elbow at her jaw, the short, fast jab landing perfectly, knocking her out cold.  From further in the house, I heard Jasper grunt. His favorite thing was there - a dog.  I cleared the room and turned back to the foyer to see Knight run past me low and fast, almost military in technique, I followed him to see Jasper on the floor in the kitchen, wrestling a Rottweiler.  Knight letting fly with a boot to it's head, Jasper punching it in the ribs - enough to send it clambering out the back screen door. Movement to the left!

A man on the staircase, a muzzle flash, a bullet punching a hole in the floor next to Jasper’s head. We all moved to cover, Jasper rolling out of sight of the stairs, Knight and I taking up positions where we could keep a line of sight - a second shot as Jasper called out for the man to surrender or the girl dies. Undeterred - a third shot.  I saw him, every shot exposing his shoulder, chest and thigh.  I squeezed the trigger of the Python, the 357 slamming into the mans chest, sending him backwards, bouncing off the wall.  No one hesitated, we all stormed the stairs, Jasper leaping over the man and clearing the rooms upstairs concealing two more naked women.

Knight disarmed the man quickly as I applied pressure to his chest wound. Fuck! I had been aiming for the shoulder!

Clean entry and exit wound, no bone, no obvious organ damage. How the hell did I hit him and miss everything vital?  Knight ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, returning with towels and cloth to apply pressure.  I called to Jasper to extract, the three of us hauling the babbling and bloody man out to the car, the neighborhood erupting around us.

As we sped off, Jasper was doing his best to interrogate the man but it was pointless. He offered us anything for a doctor - girls, drugs, guns, anything, it was purely survival motivated.  The tattoos on his chest and arms telling a similar story, this was a small fish, an evil fish in a small pond. Small pond Williamsport, but even a small fish can be terrifying.  He would have to do, if we could keep him alive for 24 hours.

Knight taped the man’s hands, feet and mouth. We shuffled him into my hotel room bathroom, dumping him in the bathtub, slicing off his clothes down to his underwear and wrapping him in towels and blankets. We patched the wound as best we could, packing the exit wound with gauze, taping the entry wound.  He was still trying to scream. I had to do it. I took a few of my pills from my pocket, shoved them in his mouth, gave him a gulp of water, then knocked him out hard with my left hand.

I was done for the night, we all were, the clock struck 5am when we all crashed out, I didn’t want to see anything else for a while, waking at 11am to the sound of Knight entering my room with a bag of greasy breakfast for me, some heart-smart omelette bagel for himself. I was still puzzled by him, he seem to be almost, looking after us, but he was no observer, in the house with the Pimp who currently resided in my bathroom, he was smooth, clean, trained.  More than I could say for half my team.
After a shower I joined Jasper at the entrance to Jason’s room, knocking on the door and entering, he was surrounded by strange and unnatural markings all over the floor, he looked like death.  Well he looked like that anyway, but more than usual. We explained we had his sacrifice, and looked at him for further instruction.

He handed Jasper a list of things he will need to get the job done, everything was collectable from any local hardware shop, leather straps, bootlaces, metal pins, easy.  We were to meet at Spooner Avenue tonight, as Darkness was starting to fall.  We needed cars, my rental was screwed, Knight and I needed new wheels.

We took off to the closest shopping centre, somewhere lots of cars, lots of confusion and lots of space.  Within a short time, we both drove out with old, yet running cars, mine belonging to someone much larger than me, there were more fast food wrappers inside than there was at a truck stop.

1206 Spooner Avenue, Jason laid it all out a block away, Knight and I were on perimeter duty, no one comes close to the house, cops, neighbours, no one, use force to stop them.  Jasper and Jason would enter the house, I would back the car with the pimp in it up to the garage, they would open the garage, take him in, I would return to perimeter and we wait for them to do what needs to be done and come out, Simple.

I pulled my car up to the garage as Knight sat across the street shotgun across his lap, watching closely as Jasper and Jason walked up the concrete bath to the front door, the garage was locked, they had to open it from inside.

They entered quickly to avoid suspicion, I sat patiently, this house was evil, apparently, it was surely going to offer resistance. Seven minutes, nothing, no garage door opening, so noise, just nothing.  I looked out my windscreen to see Knight already opening his door, I was in silent agreement, something was wrong.

I moved along the side of the house towards the front door, sounds of a struggle coming from within.  Fuck, who was killing who?

I called out to Jason with no response, I looked at Knight who clearly didn’t know what to do, both of us conversing with no words, go in, or stand by.  I leaned back and threw by boot into the door causing it to swing open with a crash, peeling back from the door, Knight took point with his shotgun, immediately shining light on the foyer, his finger sliding onto the trigger from the guard, ready to fire.  In front on me, Jason straddling a man I had never seen, bashing his brains in with his bare fists, a bloodied axe on the floor a few feet away, further away, Jasper, blood pooling around him, face down on the carpet.

I couldn’t afford to hesitate, I threw my pistol to Knight and screamed at him not to come in as I ran for Jasper, a large axe wound in his back, his head also sliced open, he was breathing, just.  I knelt on his back with one leg to apply as much pressure as I could to the wound on his back, looking around the dark room, a grabbed at a table cloth covered in stains hanging from a nearby sideboard, wrapping it up and pushing it into the gash in Jaspers back, taking my belt off and wrapping it around his Chest to hold the makeshift bandage in place.

Jasper was groaning, Jason soon stood over me, asking if Jasper was able to continue, to my surprise, he replied, wanting to get up and carry on.  Jason told me to get the man inside, again not hesitating I moved into the kitchen on my way to the garage, as I took my first step on the tiled floor, every hanging pot and pan fell to the tops of the marble counter, causing more noise than a shotgun blast.  I couldn’t stop, this was not good, but I knew I couldn’t stop.  Through the Kitchen to the garage, several old and dust covered pieces of furniture filled the space, along with an old fridge in the corner.  As I reached out for the garage door, the smell of burning meat filled my nostrils, I glanced at the fridge only to be met by the sight of a figure screaming silently as he glowed with electricity, a man being electrocuted to death, his flesh burning from his body, I recoiled slightly, closing my eyes tightly, feeling for the lock of the garage door.  I hit the latch and the door began to roll up, Knight was on the other side, heaving at the rollers to get the door up.  I opened my eyes to find no trace of the burning man, snapping myself out of it, I grabbed the bloodies pimp from the trunk and threw him into the garage, slamming the door behind me.

Knight threw my pistol across the car perfectly finding my hand as he took off to his own sedan across the road, I caught it and placed it on the passenger seat as I started the engine.  Driving back up the road to my position to cover from anyone getting to close.

More waiting, the sky seemed to dim slightly, then brighten, everything seemed to shift for a moment, the glass of my window seemingly taking on a purple tinge for a moment.  Take a pill, take a fucking pill.

Looking down, I pulled my bottle of pills from my pocket, sliding one under my tongue.  As I looked down to replace the cap on the bottle, a car in the rear-view mirror, a black sedan pulling into the driveway of 1206 Spooner Avenue.

I revved my engine, burning a 180 into the bitumen. Knight was on the front lawn, taking a knee and scanning the immediate surrounds with his shotgun, three others surrounding Jason, escorting him into the car from the garage.  I pulled across the driveway as I watched two men get in the back with Jason, the third, the driver glaring at me as I pointed my gun at his face from across the bonnet of my vehicle.  Knight called out a warning to me. Not wanting to back out of the stare down with this new threat, I finally relented and glanced at Knight who not only had the shotgun pointed at me with one arm, but an outstretched open hand also. In the split second it took to return my gaze to the driver, he was already in the car.  Knight was calling to me, calming me down - it was alright - this was K-Cell. Vaguely satisfied, I ran past the car and into the house as Knight moved to shift my car out of the way. I had to find Jasper, I hadn’t seen him come out.

In the main bedroom, the walls covered in ugly mirrors, I found him lying on the floor, breathing shallowly. He was still alive. I picked him up and began to walk him out as I heard a car speed off and Knight entering the house. He set about quickly collecting all of the evidence of what had happened, everything Jason had used, bagging it up and throwing it in his car before assisting me with Jasper.  Despite first ignoring Jasper, Knight knew the protocols, secure all the evidence first, he was slick.

I parted ways with Knight shortly after, he was to go and meet with his cell and Jason. I asked him for the professional courtesy of giving me an update, to which he agreed, it was clear he was a fed, his training, calmness under fire, even the way he moved, I don't know what it was, but we worked well, better than I expected.

I threw Jasper into the back of Jason’s car, there was no time, I had to dump him at a hospital, no ID’s, nothing, just a wounded man.  I sent a text to Jason, if he was to ever get it, his car would be parked at the storage units in Springfield, keys under the tyre well.

I dropped Jasper off at the closest hospital, disappearing out the door as the nurses and doctors took him away.  The drive took forever. I took another pill. What had happened in there? Nothing good. I’m just glad I wasn’t in that house any longer than I had to be.

I wonder if Charlie preferred red or white roses, chocolate or wine? I’ll think of something.