Seven

 

 

There are great plans. There are shitty plans. Then there are plans hatched by psychopaths and sociopaths in moments of duress. We had all agreed to follow the last one. The tactical team actually consisted of twenty men, which was a nice surprise. They breached the two side entrances. We heard the flash bangs and pulled open the front door, guns drawn, and entered.

The room was completely silent. Nothing stirred. Obviously, this room was not one they cared to guard, which made me wonder where they were. It took us about a minute to get Green into the duct system in the lobby, if you could call it a lobby. It was really an intake room for prisoners. There was bulletproof plexi around several empty booths. A line on one wall with shackles built into it was directly across from them. We had escorted prisoners into this room before.

In theory, with a special screwdriver, one could move all through the duct work. In reality, there were some safety measures to be endured. One included a fan system that was positioned over the shared walls between cellblocks. This could be overcome, but it meant someone outside had to do it. It also had to be done from one of the guard towers. For this reason, Xavier was in a guard tower, sweet-talking one of the men with controls at his fingertips. He was leaving the guys with the tranquilizer guns and .50 caliber sniper rifles alone. They might be needed. I’d never tried to drop a psychopath with a .50 caliber, but if I had a choice of guns, it would be near the top of the list.

Gabriel made hand signals and we all started moving. The corridors were quiet. I had thought wrong and I knew it. Malachi did as well. He looked at me just once and shook his head. The trap was not near the cellblocks; it was near the prisoners of the wherever they were holding the hostages.

We all figured this out about a minute before we were about to reach our intended destination. The screaming of FBI guys in tactical gear helped. There were a few gunshots, a few shouts, but they were overtaken in less than thirty seconds. Organized killers were a pain in the ass. Gabriel gave us the sign to stop. We did and pulled back.

It was well and good to walk into a lair when you were outside, but when you were actually on the verge of crossing the threshold, it seemed like a far less great idea. We were currently dealing with that. We moved up the stairs, making sure to stay quiet and low. We didn’t open any doors. Only a few places in the prison could be secured and impenetrable. The cafeteria was one. The warden’s office was another.

Gabriel typed in a code behind a panel that had opened rather magically. He hit the wall about twelve inches from the door and the panel slid open. The fact that Gabriel knew the code was pretty nifty.

A very freaked out warden was waving a gun at us when the door opened. He had two guards with him, and both looked terrified. Despite the gun, we entered and shut the door. It secured into place behind us.

“Aislinn?” The warden looked at me and lowered the handgun he was holding.

“Hi, we are here on a rescue mission, sort of,” I told him. “No time to explain. We need to enter the cafeteria without being caught by the serial killers. Any suggestions?”

“We’ve been trying to figure that out ourselves,” one of the guards asked.

“Why haven’t you called anyone?” Gabriel asked.

“No phone lines.” The warden looked at us. “This wasn’t just an inside job. Someone on the outside is helping. Who do you think they are trying to break out?”

“No one, we think they are trying to lure us in,” Malachi told him.

“So you came in?” The guard asked.

“This bunch would consider it rude not to accept such an invitation,” the warden smiled. “They haven’t got me completely shackled up here. I have some control. They haven’t let the nuts out yet and they can’t get in any of the control rooms.”

“Well, we are about to let the nuts out,” I told him.

“What?” His eyes got wide.

“Yes, if we let the nuts out and can get into the cafeteria, everyone still alive in there has a much better chance for survival,” Malachi said.

“Well, the cafeteria is being held by the loyalists. The troublemakers are also controlling it. Every time a troublemaker tries to go inside to get a hostage, the loyalists kill them. A few have been shot, maybe even killed, but it hasn’t made a difference. They’ll fight until every last one of them is dead. They tried to kill Eric Clachan and Patterson Clachan first, that’s what started this. They offered a hitman something for his services, but Yuri Kozlov didn’t bite and now, he’s dead,” the warden told us.

“You can see into the cafeteria?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes, they can’t get to the cameras in that room,” the warden hit a few buttons and the cafeteria appeared from different angles on a large TV screen. “The only other block I can see into is the secure ward. No one is willing to go in there.”

“Is the PA system working in the cafeteria and secure ward?” I asked.

“I believe so,” the warden tilted his head.

“May I use it?” I asked.

“Sure.” He hit a button and handed me a headset.

“This is US Marshal Aislinn Cain with the Serial Crimes Tracking Unit. You have twenty minutes to lay down your weapons, put your hands on your head, and exit the prison through receiving. Failure to do so will ensure we come inside and get you using lethal force.” Several faces in the cafeteria turned to look at the cameras and speakers. A few faces could be seen pressing up against the Plexiglas wall that surrounded the cafeteria. Some Plexiglas dealer had gotten rich off the building of this place.

“I’m not entirely sure what that accomplished,” the warden said.

“I do,” Malachi smiled at me. “Sneaky, sneaky. Fiona, stay here, watch the monitors and let us know when Caleb reaches the secure ward. Everyone else, come with me. We have a straight shot down the stairs to the cafeteria.”

The inmates that had been crowding around the cafeteria were spreading out. They would be setting up traps near the entrances. The fact that it was just a matter of taking the stairs down and exiting into a hallway was now easy.

“When we get down there and disable the guards, we’ll need to be able to get inside. What’s the code?” Gabriel asked.

“You know the code to his office but not the cafeteria?” I asked.

“Long story.” Gabriel didn’t look at me.

The warden rattled off a string of numbers. I believed it was a long story and just as soon as this situation was resolved, he was going to tell me about it.

While I had cleared a path, there were still going to be serial killers roaming around, most of them not so happy to see us. I couldn’t even be completely sure that the loyalists would be happy to see us. However, since they were staving off the rest of the killers, they might. If nothing else, Brent Timmons would probably want to smell my hair or something equally as creepy.

We got to the ground floor again and stopped short of opening the stairwell door. We could only see part of the hall and none of the cafeteria. Fiona’s voice crackled in our ears, telling us it was “mostly clear.” Gabriel nodded. I took point with Malachi at my back. A buzzer suddenly started to blare.

“We got a problem, there’s a prisoner loose in the secure ward and he shouldn’t be,” Fiona’s voice crackled again. We were attempting radio silence, but that was hard with that ominous threat.

“What?” I finally snapped.

“Patterson just dropped down from the ceiling and into the control room and opened all the cell doors,” Fiona said. The buzzing got louder, becoming a high-pitched scream.

“He is over seventy! How the hell is he crawling through ceilings and dropping into control rooms anywhere? How did he even get there?” I shouted, forgetting that I was supposed to be quiet. A serial killer I didn’t recognize ran right past us, then another, then three more. None of them seemed to care that we were there. They were all heading for the stairs.

“You might have company headed your way,” I told her. “Make the warden change the passcode to his office immediately.”

“Copy,” she said. Another serial killer appeared around a corner. He shouted at us, but didn’t stop. His feet carried him the opposite direction of the stairs. He was headed towards the receiving doors.

“Okay, they cannot all be terrified of the fifteen guys in the secure ward,” I said.

“Oh, well,” Malachi was walking backwards, “they might be.”

The biggest man I had ever seen was stalking towards us. He wasn’t running, but he moved fast just because his stride was so long. He wasn’t just the tallest man I had ever seen, he was also the widest, heaviest, and scariest. His clothes were covered in blood and he was munching on a head. The image was scary. He noticed us, tilted his head sideways and then smiled. I found my feet were moving backwards too. I told them to stop and they didn’t.

A couple of Marshals opened fire. I pulled out my Taser and baton. I found the baton more effective on some psychopaths than bullets. I hit him with the Taser, his arm twitched and the head fell out of his hand. It rolled towards me, dripping blood. The eyes were open, staring at nothing. Teeth marks could be seen where they had scraped off the skin from the gouged bone. I wanted to say something, but words had left me. I had no idea who this monster was, but if I was the boogeyman of serial killers all over the country, this guy must have been the embodiment of Rawhead and Bloody Bones. Even I wasn’t sure he wasn’t the mythical monster set loose on us.

I ejected the Taser cartridge, inserted another and fired again. Gabriel did the same. All four prongs entered his massive body. If it caused any electrical disruption in his brain, it wasn’t noticeable. He was still coming towards us and we were still backing up.

“Head shots only!” Gabriel shouted. I felt the wind of a bullet whiz past my face. It struck the monster in the cheek, entered, and seemed to disappear. Blood trickled from the wound.

“What the hell is he made of?” Someone shouted.

“Bone!” Malachi shouted back. “Remember, super human, biggest guns you got!” My biggest gun was a .9mm Beretta and it wasn’t going to do much more than make him bleed. I wasn’t even sure a bullet from it would penetrate the bone of his forehead.

“Distract him!” I shouted. There was a rapid firing of bullets behind me. I ran towards him, dropped down and slammed the baton against his leg. The reverberation made my entire arm shake. I swung on him again, connecting again with his leg. I was positive I was hitting his kneecap, but he didn’t seem to notice.

The one advantage I had was that I was only five feet three inches tall and weighed one hundred and thirty pounds. I was small and nimble compared to the man who must have been eight feet tall and close to six hundred pounds. Most of it seemed to be muscle. I would have to ask about letting the really dangerous ones work out after we brought him down. Launching myself, I landed on his back and felt a bullet graze my shoulder. I didn’t complain. They could continue to shoot the monster. I drew back my arm and brought the baton down with all my strength on the man’s head. The impact knocked the baton loose from my hand and my fingers went numb. Suddenly, his large hand wrapped around my arm and jerked. My shoulder gave a sickening pop as he pulled me off his back and threw me onto the floor. I felt my entire body connect with the concrete. For a moment, I considered letting myself pass out. The moment passed and I found Malachi standing very near me. I grabbed the machete still attached to his leg. Gathering all the strength I had left, I plunged the blade into his knee. He attempted to take a step, but the knee didn’t work and he tumbled forward. Malachi grabbed my ankle and pulled me out of the way as he fell.

“Fuck me!” Someone shouted. Someone else fired a very large sounding gun that made my ears ring. Warmth spread over me, coating most of my upper torso. Malachi held out his hand to me. I took it and got up.

“Shoulder’s out,” he told me.

“I know,” I answered, not moving it. Lazar was standing over the man. Blood was pouring from a large wound in his head. It would have been really cool if smoke had still been wafting up from the barrel of the shotgun Lazar had fired.

“Shoot him again, just to make sure,” I said. Lazar looked at me, and then back at the man. He fired twice more into the large skull, collapsing it. I gave him a thumbs up.