1 comments/ 9585 views/ 2 favorites Trilogy: The Darkest Night By: WifeWatchman The chronological order of my stories is as follows: Todd & Melina series, Interludes 1-5, Sperm Wars series, Russian Roulette series, Case of the Murdered Lovers series, Case of the Murdered Chessplayer series, The Swap series, Interludes 6-10, The Murdered Football Player Series, Case of the Black Widow series, Teresa's Christmas Story, Case of the Black Badge series, A Case of Revenge series. The Trilogy. Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas. This story contains graphic scenes, extreme language, and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial or racist language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above. ***** Part 1 - Heroism and Sacrifice "Officer down! Officer down! Two wounded, need EMTs to the scene, stat!" I heard the call on the radio even as I was looking ahead of me, held down by Micah Rudistan and Martin Nash's full weight, unable to help. Cindy Ross was lying on the floor of the gymnasium, unconscious and badly wounded, her body covering that of a SWAT team member that had been shot in the leg. She had rushed forward to cover and save him and had been hit herself multiple times. Automatic weapons fire was coming from the balcony on the far side of the gym, and my SWAT team's fire was not adequate in stopping the perps from continuing to shoot at the exposed officers. Time seemed to slow down and everything was in slow motion. I saw four persons dressed in all black, heavily armored with black motorcycle helmets and face shields run past us into the arena and begin firing at the perps. They had military Squad Automatic Weapons, 'SAWs', and began pouring a huge amount of fire into the perps' positions. A rifle clattered to the floor of the gym on the far side, followed by a perp that had been hit multiple times by our four friends. As they continued firing, I ordered Rudistan to get off of me, but I saw Hugh Hewitt and one of his SWAT team rush out and pull Cindy and the other wounded officer back into the safety of the hallway where we were. I then noticed that all firing had stopped as someone gave a 'cease fire' order. The remaining perps had vanished. The four people in the helmets with the heavy firepower seemed to blend into the chaos of officers, then they were simply not there anymore. Finally able to get up, I ordered that a perimeter be established to find the perps. EMTs were treating the wounded SWAT team man, while a doctor and other EMTs were cutting off Cindy's body armor and uniform shirt. Three bullets had penetrated the armor and penetrated her chest. "Sucking chest wound." said the doctor as he put a piece of sterilized plastic on one wound to arrest the damage. After the immediate work, the EMTs got Cindy onto a stretcher and to an ambulance, which rushed her to University Hospital. "Hewitt, report." I said as officers began sorting out the chaos and beginning to process the crime scene. "The perp on the other side is dead." Hewitt said. "We've taken up his weapon. Two wounded on our side. Ross looked badly hurt. I think our SWAT guy is going to be okay, though." I looked at my watch. It was nearly midnight, the night of July 5th about to turn into the morning of July 6th. "Who were those four guys in the heavy armor and motorcycle helmets?" I asked. "They saved our asses, but where did you guys get SAWs and that kind of armor?" Hugh and the other SWAT team members looked at each other for a moment, then looked around as if to find the four. Then Hugh said "Lieutenant, I don't know who they were. They weren't my guys." I just gaped at them in disbelief... -- The anonymous tip had come in at 3:00pm that afternoon from a Confidential Informant to one of the Vice Squad uniformed Sergeants. It had said that my nephew Ned was going to be selling drugs at the Olivet site's gymnasium. While he had been alive, Tim Olivet had built a basketball/volleyball gymnasium on the edge of his property. It could be accessed from outside the fences and also from the plant side. He'd built it for charity: underprivileged children and various boys and girls clubs were invited to use the facility for sports activities, and it was very popular with the Townspeople. The seating to the gym was accessed by a balcony that went around to the top of the wooden seats that could be pushed in. In that, the gym was like any high school gymnasium. There was a front lobby hallway where two doors accessed the gym floor, and from there one accessed the balcony that lead to the seats' top rows. There was a rear hallway, again with two doors accessing the gym, which went to locker rooms, but there was no balcony access from the backside. There were seats at the end of the gym, rarely used, with narrow paths for players to use to get to the playing floor from the doors. After getting the tip, I had my departments scramble to confirm it. In the early evening hours, it was independently confirmed that Ned would be at the gymnasium. Finally, we had the bastard! I thought to myself. 'Operation Ned' was put into effect. The full eight-man SWAT team readied their best weapons and heaviest armor for the assault. Police in plain clothes were sent to observe the gymnasium. Many other officers were also prepared, wearing armor, police helmets and armed with M-4 rifles. The word was that Ned was going to set up tables on the gym floor, and customers would come in through one front lobby door, buy drugs, then exit the other door. My plan was to come in from behind, through the locker rooms and hallway, and take Ned and any of his cohorts down. Chief Griswold had injured his ankle while watching the July 4th triathlon that Cindy and Teresa had won in amazing fashion, so he was restricted to Headquarters for this mission. Before we left for the Olivet site just after dark, he addressed the assemblage, telling us to be careful, watch out for each other, and let our good training guide us. Then I gave the order to go, and led my troops into battle. -- We were on essential radio silence as we approached the Olivet site. The main gate was on the west side, we used the southeast gate that was the 'back' of the property. Once inside, we left our cars near the entrance. A perimeter was set up around the property's fence as well as to the outside of the gymnasium, everyone hidden to avoid detection. The strike team moved in on the gymnasium. Once there, it was a waiting game. I could see through the doorway that a couple of plastic long picnic tables had been set up. There were two men in the gym, talking quietly, which gave us no chance to go into the playing area and look around, nor to take positions under the seats. We waited. Finally, at about 11:30pm, a radio message came into my earpiece: cars were pulling up to the front doors. The spotters then said that people were coming into the gym. And a moment later, I saw several people walk in, some with guns drawn. They looked around, then looked back towards the door. And then Ned walked in. I tried to stop my heart from racing. There he was. We had him. In my excitement, I failed to notice that neither Ned nor his team were really setting up anything. Ned was looking around warily, as was his team. It was as if he was waiting for someone. He looked at his watch several times as the minutes droned on. Standing back from the doors so as not to be heard, I very quietly said into my radio "Cut off the front doors." It was the signal for the hidden front door team to get in place to prevent Ned and his cohorts from escaping. Just as my SWAT team had been informed, those officers had been given 'shoot-to-kill' orders regarding Ned, though we'd try to leave his associates alive if possible. I hand-signaled my team to get ready and they lined up at the entrance doors. The narrow 'chute' was not ideal, but with speed and surprise we should have the advantage. Just as I was about to give the order, I heard Ned say "Hell, they're not here. Are they even coming? Let's go, guys." Seeing as they were turning to leave, I yelled "GO!" My team rushed forward, led by the SWAT team. Then everything turned to hell in a handbasket. It was an ambush. As the SWAT team came out into the open, several heavily armed men suddenly sprang up from the balcony and along the upper seats on each side. They began shooting semi-automatic rifles at my people, and I had a brief second to see that they had some serious military firepower. "AMBUSH!" I yelled as loud as I could, holding my radio mike open for all to hear. "PULL BACK! BACK! BACK! BACK!" The SWAT team began retreating even as they were firing back at their ambushers. I saw that Ned had rushed headlong for the front doors as the firefight started, but I could not shoot at him because the SWAT team was trying to pull back through the doors. Then one of SWAT team man went down. I saw the spray out of the back of his leg: a bullet had gone clean through his thigh. As I rushed forward to help him, I felt myself being shoved to the ground. Hugh Hewitt and Cindy went forward past me, I'm not sure which one pushed me down. Then Cindy went forward, kneeling between the down man and the fire, shooting at the men on the balcony. Our fire was coming from the doors, but wasn't enough as the ambushers trained their weapons onto Cindy and began firing. She seemed to be holding out, but then collapsed as she was hit, and I could see that she had intentionally fallen onto the SWAT officer to cover him as she fell, still trying to save her fellow officer(s) to the last. Again I tried to rush forward, but that was a dream: I was being tackled again, and this time Rudistan put his full considerable weight on top of me and Martin Nash was helping. They fully intended that I was not going to die in the line of duty tonight; as our four unknown helpers suddenly rushed passed me and saved the day, my aching heart wondered if Cindy had just made the supreme sacrifice... Part 2 - Chaos and Darkness At about 12:30am, I arrived at University Hospital and went to the waiting room on the floor where the Trauma Center was. Cindy had been rushed into surgery. I found Chief Griswold already there; he'd rushed to the hospital as soon as the words 'Officer Down' had hit the airwaves. Captain Leslie Charles was also there: it was his son that had been hit in the leg. "Charles is going to be okay." Griswold told me. "Bullet went clean through the leg, but no major blood vessels hit, nor was the bone. It's going to hurt a lot for a while, though." "And Cindy?" I asked, barely able to speak the words. "Don't know yet. They rushed her in fast, and I didn't like the looks on their faces." the Chief replied. I took out my cell phone and called Molly in Midtown, telling her what had happened, and asking her to pick up Teresa and get up here as fast as they could. Other people began trickling in, first Martin Nash, then Laura, then almost all of the rest of the MCD team as well as Julie Newton and Timothy Geiger of Vice. I talked with the Chief about the raid, telling his what had happened, what had gone wrong. I mentioned the four black-clad gunmen that had come in and saved us, and said that nobody knew who they were. Laura said she had no knowledge of any Federal agents ready to help us, and I believed her. As we talked, Senior Patrolmen Rudistan and Morton came up to us, long looks on their faces. "Sir," said Rudistan, being the bravest and not letting bad news get worse with age, "the bastard got away." He then reported that Ned and his henchmen had come out of the gym with guns blazing, and while none of our guys had been hit, the covering fire had enabled Ned to get in one of the cars and get away. Two henchmen had died when police returned fire, but the other cars also got away, covering for Ned. Some police cars gave chase, but Ned's car was gone and one of the Sergeants had called off the chase as the bad guys were firing at the cop cars while driving through Town, creating considerable risk to the populace. I could understand that. "Ned has to be somewhere," I said, "he could not have gotten far." I knew APBs were out on the car and police were crawling all over Town and the County like fire ants from a disturbed mound. Moments later, a call came in to Rudistan's police radio that Ned's car had been found, abandoned, just south of the Courthouse Square. But despite an intense and motivated manhunt, my bastard nephew was not to be found this night. "What do you think, Crowbar?" the Chief asked, prodding me to start talking and let things flow so that I could put the puzzle pieces together. But I was too worried about Cindy. "I can't think right now, Chief." I said, looking towards the doors of the Trauma Center. "It's going to take some time to process all of this one." "I understand." the Chief said, patting me on the knee. "Just relax. All we can do is wait, now." We waited. Every time the intercom came on, calling a doctor or for something to come to Trauma Center, we all jumped out of our skins, and we prayed that no doctor would come walking slowly out of there towards us... -- At 1:30, I got a call from Hugh Hewitt, asking me to come down to the Armory at Headquarters. I headed over. I found Hugh and four SWAT team members in the armory, looking at the disassembled pieces of the ambusher's rifle they'd recovered from the scene. After telling them that their buddy Charles was out of danger, I listened to the report as Hewitt talked. "Sir, this recoil spring here is much stronger than an ordinary M-4." Hewitt said. And if you look at the chamber and barrel, you can see it's built stronger than the ordinary military rifle. Also, look at these bullets... these pointed tips. These bullets are packed with powder that would damage an ordinary rifle." "So what does this mean?" I asked. Hugh said "Sir, when I was in Special Ops, this shit was classified. Only a few people even had these kind of rifles and bullets. They're meant to penetrate body armor. The bullets are 'cop-killer' bullets, and illegal for ordinary citizens or even police officers to have. Of course we'll bag these as evidence so we don't get busted. But the bottom line, Lieutenant, is that whoever ambushed us had access to some extremely powerful and limited special hardware." "Sir, let me show you this." said the SWAT team member who was the brother of the young man known as 'The Leader'. It was Cindy's armored vest. "She took eight hits to the vest. Five of them didn't penetrate but three did. She also had on a thigh plate, and at the sharp angle two bullets bounced off like bouncing off water, and also didn't pierce her vest. But seeing what kind of bullets these were, she was lucky that only three got through. She should be dead, and so should several of us that took hits. They meant to kill us, Lieutenant. That much is for sure." I just nodded. The first puzzle pieces were falling into place in my mind. As I drove back to the hospital I finally allowed my mind to roam... and I began to see clearly the 'what' and the 'how' and the 'why' of everything that had happened in that gymnasium... -- When I got back to the Hospital, the Chief met me in the hallway. "Not the best time and place to discuss this, but I suspect it fits in with what's going on." Griswold said, his own considerable abilities to put puzzle pieces together being exposed. "Internal Affairs reported yesterday afternoon on the Crime Lab break-in. Technician Cho did use her exit code to set the alarm, as she should have. However, someone came in and defeated the system. They did not punch in a code but defeated it electronically. So that's why there were no alarms." "Yes sir, that bespeaks high level stuff, just like when that guy was caught in our Evidence rooms." I said, "And yes, it does fit into this. I think I've got a handle on what's going on- oh, hello Molly." Molly and Teresa had arrived. As they hugged me and then lots of other people, I shook hands with the third person that walked in: Detective Sergeant Wes "Coldiron" Masters of the Midtown Police Force. "What brings you here, Sergeant?" I asked. "I drove Detectives Evans and Croyle up here." Masters replied. "No way I was going to let either of them drive." I thanked Masters for that; this was a man that took care of his people, something to take note of. People were chatting, Molly with me and Chief Griswold, the MCD detectives already starting to make notes for their reports. To my surprise, Captain Charles and Sgt. Masters were engaged in conversation and seemed to really be hitting it off. Teresa sat by herself, her eyes downcast, but that did not last long. Laura sat down next to her and talked with her. Teresa did not demand to be left alone, but allowed herself to be talked to, and soon Laura was giving her a well-needed hug and comforting her like no one else in the room could. At 3:00am, Tanya Perlman arrived, having led the processing of the crime scene. She had managed to recover one of the perps' unfired cartridges, and she showed it to all of us, saying that it was a cop-killer bullet. "They meant to kill people, Lieutenant." she said. "People wearing armor. I don't think this was a drug set-up. They meant to kill us, and probably you were the primary target, Lieutenant." "I agree about the ambush, but I'm not sure that I nor anyone else was a specific target. I think they just wanted to shoot at police officers." I said. Even as I sat there and tried not to think, more puzzle pieces were edging into my consciousness from the edges, demanding to be put in their proper place. I looked over at Laura. My wife was beginning to understand as she looked at the cop-killer bullet. "Excuse me for a moment." she said, getting up to leave. When she did not return for some minutes, I went looking for her. The waiting room was in the corner of the hospital, where the left-side "L" shape was (the overall hospital was like a letter "I"). The Trauma Center was straight ahead, and I went to the side, down the leg of the building towards the front, the Town. The first hospital room down that hall was empty and the door was cracked open. I looked inside to see my wife standing in the darkness, looking out the window. As I came in and approached, I could see tears streaming down her face. "This is not my Agency." she whispered as I came up behind her and put my arms around her. "This is not the Company that I've loved and worked for for all of these years." she said, almost sobbing. "I know, sweetheart, I know." I said. "It's not your fault. I know who's behind it." "And it was you they were after tonight, wasn't it?" Laura said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And Cindy jumped ahead of you. Martin told me that they had to tackle you to keep you from going out there..." "Yes, you're right, they held me back." I said, letting myself acknowledge that my team did everything to keep me safe, all of them knowing that I would have gone out there first and taken those bullets that Cindy did if they had not restrained me... and if I could, I'd trade places with Cindy right now. "I am going to kill those bastards." Laura said. "I don't care anymore; they've crossed the line." "How about you let me take care of this one, honey." I said, knowing what I was going to do. "You can't." Laura said. "It's over your head. If you kill any of them, we both will be killed in retaliation. This isn't about the law, this is an internecine CIA war." Trilogy: The Darkest Night "I'm not going to kill anyone, not just yet." I said. "But leave it to me." "And if Cindy dies?" Laura asked. "Then we're back to you killing them." I said. "But only if you get to them before I do." -- It was nearly 4:30am when I noticed a doctor come out of the Trauma Center, and go the other way towards the breakroom. An orderly in scrubs tried to stop me as I went down after him, but I held up my badge and glared at him; he did not try to stop me though he verbally protested. The old man looked up at me as I entered the breakroom after him. He was making coffee. "Admiral, it is you." I said, having recognized him. Dr. Leonard R. Cordell (Admiral, USN, Ret.) had been a legendary surgeon in the war zones, having saved countless soldiers who otherwise would never have survived their wounds. He also had exposed an illegal CIA operation, which made him deeply unpopular with the Company. He'd retired from active Navy service, but he loathed the CIA to this day, and had given lectures on the dangers the Agency posed to the American People. "I don't want your wife to see me here." he said. "I know she's not one of the bad ones, but I still don't want her knowing I'm here." "I'll make damn sure she doesn't." I said. "And I'm grateful to you for coming here and helping with my officer." "I was glad to do it. Dr. Morgan called me when he saw the extent of your Detective's injuries." the Admiral replied. "And it's not over; it's going to be touch-and-go for a couple of days. To be blunt, it's her incredible physique and conditioning that saved her. If it had been you or me or almost anyone else, I wouldn't have even had a chance to operate; she'd have been dead on arrival." Seeing the look on my face, Dr. Cordell continued "But she's stabilized now. We got the bullets and cloth fragments out and stopped the bleeding. If there's no new internal bleeding or any deep infections, I think she has a chance." Relief flooded through me upon hearing those words, even though Cindy was not yet out of danger. "Thank you again, Admiral." I said, shaking his hand. "I'll go distract them while you go somewhere else." As I walked back down the hall to the waiting room, I was met by Dr. Morgan, who I remembered had been on the trauma team that had saved Melina's life many months ago. He had now worked to save Cindy. "How is she, Doctor?" I asked. "We were lucky to have some help, Lieutenant." Dr. Morgan said. "I know about the Admiral, and that you can't say anything about him being there. Don't worry about that. How's my officer?" "The bullets that got through her armor tumbled, causing some damage. One went through a lung, the other into her chest cavity. It must've been the Hand of God that kept any major blood vessels from getting hit. We've got her in a medically-induced coma now. If she makes it through the next 24-48 hours, she might have a chance. I'm worried about renewed internal bleeding, though. It's going to be a tough couple of days for her." "Thanks, Doctor, for everything." I said. "And tell your staff how grateful I am to all you of you for your work. She only has a chance because of you guys." "It's what we're here to do, Lieutenant." Dr. Morgan replied. "And we're going to do all we can for her. After telling everyone in the waiting room what I'd just been told, I went looking for Laura. She was in that same hospital room, and I knew she wasn't alone. I set my face and emotions for what had to be done next, and walked in. In the room with Laura was FBI Special Agent in Charge Jack Muscone, and they'd been talking. "Oh, no..." Laura said, seeing the somber look on my face. "Oh! No, Cindy is coming out of surgery and seems stable right now." I said. Laura's face turned to one of immense relief. "But the three of us need to talk, right now." Jack and Laura looked at each other as I sat down. "I know that the two of you have been working together on stopping this rogue CIA cell." I said, laying the cards on the table. "I know that Jody Corrigan is in charge of it, that Dr. Bartholomew Scott is his right-hand man and leading the point on what's going on, and that Henry R. Wargrave is in league with them in some way. Scott has been a bull in a china shop; he threatened my police scientist with kidnapping and utterly destroyed the man's apartment, his people ransacked my Crime Lab, and now I have one of my best police officers and best friends lying in this hospital, fighting for her life. I've held back to let you guys shut this operation down, but I am not going to sit back any longer-" "Don-" Jack Muscone started, but I stopped him. "This is not a discussion, Jack, this is a statement." I said. "I'm going after Bartholomew Scott. I am going run him out of town on a rail... well, on a crowbar. You two can do what you have to, the Agency and the FBI can do what they need to, but I'm not having any more of this shit happen to my officers. Scott is done. If he's not out of my County in 24 hours, he is a dead man." I got up and walked out. I left the Hospital and went to my destination, the Pharmacy building. Getting in with a master key that I'd plain stolen and duplicated from the Campus Police, I went to one of the offices and got to work, doing what I had to do... -- "Fuck, they almost got me that time." Ned said. He was back in his hiding place above the garage of Goth Girl Kathy's mother's home. Eleanor Burke just watched as Kathy sucked Ned's cock, which was hard and throbbing. "Ah, such is life!" Ned said, his blood still pumping from the excitement of the near-catch. "God, that was exciting!" "How can you be so hard after something like that?" Eleanor Burke said. "Ah, dear Eleanor, don't you remember how you felt when you were about to kill the bitch Fredricson?" Ned asked. "That excitement, that craving for action? God it makes me horny. Keep sucking me, bitch." "Mmmm, I love it when you get all hot, Ned." Kathy said as her tongue licked up and down Ned's thick, hard shaft. "It's going to feel real good when you fuck my brains out with this thing." "Are you wet, babe?" Ned asked. "I'm soaking wet for your cock, Ned." mewled Kathy. "Then climb on." said Ned. Kathy stood up, stripped completely naked, then straddled Ned. He grabbed her hips to guide her, easing her down as she held his eight inch cock with one hand and slowly lowered herself, impaling her pussy onto his thick, hard meat until he was fully buried inside her snatch. Kathy began grinding against Ned as he slightly spread his legs, putting the tops of Kathy's feet on his things and massaging her feet. Some traits, including an appreciation for sexy feet, ran in Ned's family. He began sucking Kathy's nipples, her long teats hard with desire, as his hands mauled and massaged her large breasts. Eleanor watched the evil young man being fucked by the sweet young Goth bitch, seeing that huge cock sliding up into her body as Kathy rocked herself on it. The soft, wet smacks of flesh-on-flesh echoed in the dark room as they rutting couple fucked lustily. "Yeah, those bastards think that little show will help them?" Ned said, mostly to himself. "They're total fucking idiots. They've got no chance with me." "Ooooh, I feel your big cock pulsing in me." said Kathy as she enjoyed fucking the big meat that was throbbing and jabbing deep inside her. "Keep thinking those thoughts and keep fucking me, baby." "You are a tight, sweet fuck, bitch." Ned said. He thought about Kathy's lovely mother and beautiful younger daughter. He wouldn't mind fucking the shit out of either of them, and by force if necessary. The thought made him throb and he fucked up into Kathy as she grinded her cunt onto him, making both of them groan. Some minutes later, Ned felt himself near coming. He saw Eleanor watching him fuck Kathy, and new desires entered his mind and body Wordlessly, he eased Kathy off of him, feeling the cool air on his cock as it slid completely out of the young woman's burning snatch. "Are you wet, Eleanor?" Ned asked. She was, which was fortunate. Ned was mounting her, and she dutifully lay back and spread her legs to accommodate him. "Unnh!" she moaned as Ned penetrated her, shoving his meat balls-deep into her. He began fucking Eleanor with a hard, steady, deep rhythm, his balls smacking against her taint as he buried his prick to the hilt inside her sopping womanhood. He looked over at Kathy as he fucked Eleanor, seeing the hot Goth Girl stabbing her fingers into her pussy as she watched Ned's ass bobbing and that birthmark of his as he pistoned in and out of Eleanor. The obscene fucking continued for several moments until Ned could take nor more of it. "Oh yeah, I'm getting close... oh yeah, OH YEAH!" he gasped, unable to keep quiet as jet after jet of thick, ropy semen blasted into Eleanor's well-fucked cunt. He tried to kiss Eleanor, but she turned her face, beginning to feel the filth and humiliation of having to sexually submit to this killer. Ned snickered as he nuzzled the older woman' neck, whispering to her what a hot, filthy fuck she was. After a few minutes of post-coital enjoyment, Ned dismounted Eleanor and went back in his original position with his back against the old couch, relaxing. Kathy swooped down on his cock with her mouth, sucking it deeply, cleaning off the combined sexual juices of the recent fuckings. Oh yeah, life was good, Ned thought. And it's about to get better for me, and much, much worse for dear old Uncle Donny... Part 3 - Cowardice and Ultimatum ***WHAM!!*** I'd raised my blue crowbar above my head with both hands, then slammed it down as hard as I could onto the center of the desk. It broke in half and collapsed, all of the papers and other items sliding down into a puddle in the middle. Behind the desk, Dr. Bartholomew Scott cringed in his chair. It was 8:05am and Dr. Scott and his secretary had just arrived. I followed him into his office just as he had seated himself, and I got his undivided attention with the crowbar to his desk. Now for him. "You son of a bitch!" I roared, stepping over the broken desk and right in front of Scott, my crowbar raised to deliver another blow. "You think I'm some stupid idiot? You think I don't see what you were doing?" "What the fuck are you talking about?" Scott said, still scared but trying to regain his mental faculties. "That little ambush you staged last night." I hissed. "You were trying to get Ned to come into your little fold, you were supposed to meet him, but you tipped us off and then ambushed us when we came for him. You were trying to make him think you were on his side, that he can trust you... by killing cops! See Ned? See how we took on the cops to protect you Ned?" I was near ranting. "We confiscated one of your weapons and the ammo... stuff only special ops people like your CIA bastards can have. I know you're behind it like you were behind trying to kidnap Barry Oliver." "You're crazy." Scott said, but I had already seen in his eyes that I was right and had correctly guessed his plans. "Here's the bottom line, you son of a bitch." I snarled. "You have 24 hours to resign and get out of town. If I see you in this County again, ever, after this time tomorrow morning, I will kill you. I don't care what the cost will be, I'll go down for murder if I have to. But if I see you again after 24 hours, you're dead." I then hovered over Scott, getting close, letting my voice quieten but in doing so be more menacing. "And you'd better pray to God that my officer doesn't die. If she does, there is no place anywhere on this earth, above it, or underneath it, where you can hide that I won't find you and kill you. If she dies, you die." I took the gun that was secreted under his desk and pocketed it as I stood upright. "Twenty four hours, Scott." I said, then backed out of the office, keeping him in my sight. I exited the office and closed the door. Lt. Bill Hanson of the Campus Police had Scott's assistant, one Sarah Collins, at gunpoint, the barrel of his service weapon just inches from her head. Sarah had a frazzle of light brown, curly hair on her head. She wasn't bad looking, a bit on the voluptuous side, but wasn't spectacular either. "Let's go." I said, holding my crowbar ready. As Hanson holstered his gun, Sarah Collins quickly reached under her desk. ***WHAP!!*** My crowbar came down hard on the back of her hand, and the gun she was drawing clattered to the floor and slid out from under her desk. "OW! Goddammit!" Sarah screamed as, with lightning quickness, I had shoved her onto her desk, wrenching her arm hard behind her. I handcuffed her. "Secure that firearm, Bill." I ordered as Bartholomew Scott opened the door to his office and looked out. "Sarah Collins, you are under arrest for unlawful possession of a firearm on Campus, and the attempted murder of a Town & County Police Officer." "What the fuck is going on here?" Scott roared. "Your assistant cunt is now in custody, Scott." I said as Lt. Hanson led the cursing woman out of the room. I turned to Scott one last time. "Twenty-four hours, Scott. Your clock is ticking." -- "I want this woman released into my custody immediately, Chief Griswold." said Joseph "Jody" Corrigan, sitting in Interrogation-A, Chief Griswold on the other side. I stood behind the Chief, my arms crossed, my eyes boring into Corrigan. He had come into the building with a lawyer in tow, demanding to be taken to the Chief's office. Instead, due to my pre-warning to the Duty Desk, he was shown into Interrogation-A and then made to wait for the Chief. Once the Chief and I condescended to come to Interrogation-A ourselves, his efforts to have the discussion moved to another room was curtly denied by the Chief. Then he was forced to send the lawyer out of the room in order to be able to say what he wanted to... perhaps not realizing our video-recorders were running and we were getting every second on tape. "She attempted to murder a Town & County Police Lieutenant." said Griswold. "And that same Lieutenant says her boss is the reason my Detective is lying in the hospital, nearly dead. It's a huge understatement to say that we don't appreciate that shit around here, Corrigan, even if you are in the CIA... hell, especially since you are CIA." "I don't think you understand the situation." said Corrigan. "You're asking for a serious scandal to befall your Town and your University here." He was groping for something, anything at all, to put himself at advantage. This meeting was not going very well at all; usually police forces were all too eager to comply with the orders of a high-ranking CIA officer. "Crowbar, you have a response to that?" Griswold said, his eyes boring in on Corrigan. "Yeah... bring it on, Jody." I said, remembering what he'd said to me in Midtown about his name. "By the way, I'm called the 'Iron Crowbar' by my friends. I don't consider you to be one of them. And I'm coming for you and your criminal agents, Jody." Corrigan's eyes were smoldering with hatred as he got up. "You will regret this, Griswold. You will regret it." "If my Detective dies," said Griswold, "you won't live long enough to regret it. Get out of my County. Don't come back, if you value your life." -- "Your Honor, we ask that bail be denied this defendant." said Paulina Patterson at the bail hearing that afternoon, July 6th. "She is an exceptional flight risk. She is an agent of the Central Intelligence Agency, and if she is allowed out on bail she will never return to this County to face these attempted murder charges." "What?!" exploded Judge Rodney K. Watts. "Defense counsel, is that true?" "I am not permitted to answer that question, your Honor." said the defense counsel. "Are you an employee of the Federal Government, counselor?" Watts demanded. Silence. "I'll ask one more time, are you an employee of the Federal Government, counselor? Or would you prefer to go to jail yourself for Contempt of Court?" "Yes I am, your honor. I am a U.S. Attorney here to defend Miss Collins from police abuse." the defense counsel said. "The arresting officer damaged my client's hand in making the arrest. She needs medical attention, and I fear for her safety in the custody of this County's police. I ask that she be released on her own recognizance immediately." "Yeah, right." said Judge Watts. "Federal government asshole lawyer walking into my Courtroom with this crap... I don't know what the hell is going on here, but yes, Ms. Patterson, bail absolutely is denied." said Watts. "And furthermore, this defendant is to be ankle-monitored while being held in jail, she is to be kept in solitary confinement, and she is to be guarded at all times. And I'd better not hear of any attempts to break this defendant out of custody. Get her medical attention... but in her jail cell." He was as angry as anyone when I'd broken all rules and secretly met with him in his chambers, telling him more of the story than most people knew. "Don't worry, we'll have a Federal judge crushing these bastards." whispered the judge to Sarah Collins. But the Federal Court also denied bail. Jack Muscone had apparently been motivated to act after seeing my determination in the hospital, and he had beaten them to the punch. He unrolled the first part of his case against the rogue CIA group, of which Collins was a part. He was asking for indictments against Bartholomew Scott and Sarah Collins and eight others, under a classified seal. The Federal judge not only wouldn't grant injunctive relief to the CIA, but ordered the agent Collins be kept in local custody as the Federal case was made. -- "So what do you want me to do?" Bartholomew Scott said to the two men as they huddled with him in the plush office. "I say that I stay here and we tell the Iron Crowbar to shove his crowbar up his ass!" "Scott, I warned you." said the host of the meeting. "I told you that you were moving too fast and too directly. I wish to God that Barry Oliver had just shot you dead, then we wouldn't be in this fucking mess. You damn near killed a Town & County Police Officer, for God's sake." "Come on, Henry." said Jody Corrigan to his host, Henry R. Wargrave. "Scott is on the right path. Yes, he went a bit fast trying to secure Barry Oliver, but I approved the plan to draw the 'Mad Scientist' into the fold, and it almost worked. It's a shame the guys didn't kill that bastard Crowbar guy, and I really don't give a shit that one of his detectives got shot up." "Are you as stupid as this bozo is?" gasped Wargrave to Corrigan, speaking detrimentally of Bartholomew Scott. "Do you not get it, Jody? Muscone is moving against you! He's seeking indictments! He has more than I realized, and now your rash actions have forced his hand. It's over, Jody, our cell is through. All of my years of work getting that cell going, getting you people into place... and now it's over because of Scott's stupidity." "Bullshit, Henry-" started Corrigan. "You want bullshit, Corrigan?" Wargrave stated, worn to anger with the sheer incompetence surrounding him. "You'll be getting a call within two hours from the Director, after the White House has called him. You think I'm fucking with you?" Corrigan made his wisest move of the day: he shut his mouth. "Scott, you don't have a lot of time left." Wargrave said. "I suggest you get that resignation sent to Dr. Wellman and be on your way by nightfall. I wouldn't even wait until morning if the Iron Crowbar were coming for my ass." "Which he will be, when he finds out your involvement with us." Scott retorted. Wargrave laughed, a deep hearty laugh like he had not had in ages. "Oh that is good, I have to admit." Then the humor vanished. "Scott, the Iron Crowbar already knows more than you do about your own operation. You set the rattlesnake off when you nearly killed his partner in the Police Force, and may God have mercy on your soul if she dies. I'd suggest you get out of town, and right now, Scott. Corrigan, it'd be a good idea if you left too. I'll clean up the mess you're leaving here." Trilogy: The Darkest Night "What about Collins?" said Scott. "We can't leave a soldier behind on the battlefield!" "I'll take care of it." said Wargrave. "Now both of you: Get. The. Fuck. Out." "Dammit, Wargrave, we can't just shut down!" cried Corrigan. "There's too much at stake-" "Yes you can, at least in this County. Your operation is finished." said Wargrave. "Now go!" Part 4 - Meditation and Healing "This is Bettina Wurtzburg, KXTC Channel Two News!" said the lovely redhead reporterette at 7:00am on July 7th. "Channel Two News has learned that the FBI is seeking indictments of several rogue CIA agents! Let's go to Priya Ajmani at the National desk. Priya!" "Thank you, Bettina!" said the lovely Indian woman, who was standing in front of the Federal offices of the County as if that would make her story any more or less worth anything. "Channel Two News has learned that the FBI has moved to shut down a cell of rogue CIA agents that have been operating in the United States and abroad. The CIA has disavowed this cell, stating that their actions were without the authorization of the Director or the top leadership, and that they had acted outside the law and would be disciplined internally by the CIA as well as through the Federal Court system. No names have been released, and the White House has issued a statement saying that the President has been informed and is monitoring the situation. Back to you, Bettina!" "Thanks, Priya." said Bettina. "Meanwhile, Town & County Police Detective Cindy Ross remains in critical condition at University Hospital after being badly wounded in a raid intended to arrest three-time murderer Ned-" I listened to see just how accurate this would be. Would Bettina attack the police, or actually tell the truth? She continued: "Police spokesman Lt. Scott Peterson said the criminals used illegal cop-killer bullets, and while Detective Ross was wearing body armor, these bullets managed to overcome the protection and wound Detective Ross. The shooting comes just one day after Detective Ross and her partner Teresa Croyle won the County Triathlon on July 4th. Let's now go to our newest reporter, Diane Williams, for an update. Diane?" Diane Williams was a 'decided' blonde (she decided, and by how much), and she had a condescending way of talking, as if speaking to young dumb children. Come to think of it, I thought, most of her viewership probably fit into that category. I also knew that Diane had been hired from a station in the City to possibly replace Bettina, as I was aware of the deep divides within KXTC. "Thank you, Bettina." said Williams. "Channel Two News has learned from several sources that Detective Ross's actions saved the life of at least one other police officer, and that the Town & County Council has convened a Board of Inquiry to determine exactly what happened during the raid. The State Bureau of Investigation has called for their own investigation into the incident, but the Governor has ordered the SBI to remain uninvolved. Bettina?" "Thank you, Diane, and welcome to the Channel Two News team. In a University-related story, Dr. Bartholomew Scott submitted his resignation as a Professor of Pharmacy last night, which was reluctantly accepted by University President Dr. Sidney P. Wellman. Dr. Scott cited health issues within his family back east, and leaves after only a few months at our University. This is Bettina Wurtzburg for KXTC Channel Two News, and we will break in with any new developments in these recent cases." Wow, no attack, I thought to myself. Who called Katherine Woodburn's dogs off? -- At 8:00am that morning, Captain Charles brought Sergeant Wes "Coldiron" Masters to Headquarters, having had the Midtown officer stay with him the previous night. "I'm going to give him the grand tour." said Captain Charles to the Chief in his office, with me present. "Is it okay if we take him downstairs?" "By all means." said Chief Griswold, still hobbling and so staying seated behind his desk as much as possible. As an aside, the Chief had ordered that all but 'family' leave the Hospital and get back to work, that Cindy would recover, or not, without us hovering in the waiting room. When I replied that the Chief himself had said we were all a family, and so we all were refusing to go home, he said "I did say that, didn't I? But I mean immediate family: Evans and Croyle. The rest of you scoot, go home and clean up and they'll let you know if anything happens." I think it meant a lot to Teresa when the Chief called her Cindy's 'family'. "I'll be heading home right after this." said Masters. "Detective Evans said she'd arrange to be taken back home, though it won't be for some time until her sister is more fully recovered." "We'll take care of it." I said. Molly and Teresa had already been told they could stay at The Cabin while here in Town. "And come by my office before you go, if you don't mind." Once the tour was done, Masters came into my office and sat down at my invitation. "Nice office." he said. "Yes, it's above my pay grade, but I stole the keys to it." I said. "How do you like our operation?" "Looks good. Different than ours in some ways, of course, but I got some ideas to take back home." replied Masters. "I like the security of your basement areas. But I'm most impressed with the camaraderie among your teams. I guess Detective Ross being wounded really has everyone hanging together." "That's true." I said. "By the way, if you're in no hurry to get home, stick around with us for a while and swap some notes with my guys." Masters did just that, and I introduced him to the MCD team and had him work with them for the day. By the end of the day, when he did head home, he seemed to be much more considerably at ease than he normally was. My reasons for doing this weren't idle. Like any decent chess player, I was looking far into the future. And if Cindy survived, I knew some good changes would be coming our Department's way... -- "Well, that's that." said Dr. Wellman as he poured club soda for Henry R. Wargrave in his University office. "Dr. Scott has resigned and left. And he left in a big hurry." "Yes, he did." said Wargrave. "I get the feeling you are less than upset about that." "I usually do a much, much better job picking professors for my School." said Wellman. "Though this was one of those where I was persuaded to take the man because of the 'extra' duties he was doing. He did have impressive credentials, though." "He got a little too big for his britches, Sidney, as my mother used to say about me when I was a kid." Wargrave replied. Wellman laughed. "You still are too big for your britches, Hank." the University president said, needling his friend. "You just have the money now to go along with it." "Yes, that's true." Wargrave said, allowing his friend to tease him. "But to get serious, things around here have gotten too hot to keep the operation going. My God, of all the people to get hurt, they had to shoot the Iron Crowbar's most trusted associate. Jesus! he's going to be a bear to deal with now." "And she'd just won that triathlon. The whole Town is on pins and needles about it, Hank. And they are demanding answers for what happened. The Town & County Council is being besieged about it." said Wellman. "Yes, as much as I liked having the money for the School, I think it's best if you close up shop and lay low for a while..." -- At 4:00am on the morning of July 9th, I was feeding my baby son a bottle. As he looked up at me with his blue eyes, I felt huge gratitude to be alive and be holding him. Finally, the bottle was finished and the burping and diaper-changing done, and I lay little Jim back down in his crib. Laura was asleep, exhausted. The calls from Washington, D.C. had been constant, and often at unpleasant hours. This rogue-agent business was causing her grief. Just then I felt a strong 'premonition', or 'vibe'. I felt that Cindy needed my help, her energy was flagging. I didn't question what I felt, but I quickly got dressed. "Where you going?" Laura sleepily asked as she woke up. "I haven't given you your morning blowjob yet." "That's okay, sweetheart." I said. "We'll make up for it. You get some rest. I'm going to the hospital before I go to the Station." At the hospital, I was surprised to find my mother Phyllis sitting with Molly in the waiting room. "We just got here, son." said Phyllis. "Molly stayed with me last night." "Good," I said, "I'm glad you're getting to know each other." Considering that Molly was carrying my mother's grandson, this was a good thing. "Tell you guys what." I said. "I'm going to go make Teresa go to breakfast with you, so make sure she eats, okay?" I then headed to Cindy's ICU room just down the hall. The nurses were not amused at my presence, but knew better than to protest. Teresa was half-asleep in a chair next to Cindy's bed. Cindy still had a breathing tube and IV tubes sticking out of her. No one had been able to make Teresa leave the room, much less go home. She woke up as I came in. "Hey, Teresa," I said, "you need to go get something to eat. I'll stay here for a couple of hours, and my mom and Molly will take you to eat and get a shower." "I take it that's not a request." Teresa said as she woke fully up. "I'm delighted to see we understand each other." I said. "Now scoot. I'll call you if anything at all happens." Once Teresa was gone, I got very close to Cindy's ear and whispered to her that I was here, that I wanted her to get well, and quickly, that I needed her help to put away the bad guys. I still felt she was at low energy. The instruments showed her pulse to be weak. Some will say what I did next was crazy or weird. I sat down and began meditating. I let my mind drift, go deep, trying to feel the Life energies around me and Cindy, and to let energy flow to her. I could sense her presence as my head began rolling uncontrollably, I could feel her energy and it was indeed very low. She was letting go. Then suddenly, I felt an almost blinding energy come in, and a bright light surround us. This powerful energy felt very strong and uplifting, and it was a healing power of great strength. I basked in the energy, then tried to send it towards Cindy, feeling her receiving it. Was this the end of it all? I wondered. I began to come out of my meditative trance. I opened my eyes. Cindy's pulse was much stronger, her heartbeat more regular. Everything seemed better. And then I looked over to my right. Dr. P. Harvey Eckhart, founder and leader of The Vision, was sitting in the chair next to mine. He was still meditating, and I knew that the energy I'd felt had been from him. His years of training had allowed him to harness his energies much more than my meager attempts had allowed me to harness mine. I just sat there, watching and waiting, wondering if Eckhart was truly the psychic that some said he was. A few moments later, Eckhart opened his eyes. "Ah, hello my young friend Donald. I see that you felt what I did, that Miss Ross needed our help." "Yes..." I said. "Oh yes." "I think your premonition was correct. But I'm happy to say that she is now doing much better." said Eckhart. "I think she's going to make it, my friend." Enormous relief flooded my soul. I knew Eckhart was right. "Yes, my friend, she's chosen to stay with us... with you." Eckhart whispered. "I'll be going now, before my presence causes the Hospital a commotion." Almost as quickly and as silently as he'd arrived, Harvey Eckhart vanished. Part 5 - Life And Death A few hours later, Cindy opened her eyes. Teresa was looking at her. "Don't try to move." Teresa said. "You're in the hospital. You still have a breathing tube in you. Just relax and let it work for you. Easy, relax..." Cindy stopped trying to struggle against the breathing tube. Her eyes were locked with Teresa's, and no further communication was needed. "I'll give you the 'forgot-to-duck' speech later." Teresa said. "You just concentrate on getting your hardbody butt out of this bed, okay?" Cindy tried to smile at that one. I came up and said "Glad to see you back, partner. I'm going to go get the doctor. Don't beat up Teresa while I'm gone, okay?" I think I saw the light in my partner's eyes get a little bit brighter. Moments later, doctors and nurses were swarming. "I don't know how she came out of that medically induced coma," one doctor told me later, "but she's doing much, much better now." I didn't say anything. Doctors don't want to believe in the power of meditation. -- In those same pre-dawn hours, Henry R. Wargrave was doing what he did best: cleaning up after a mess. For hours now, workers had packed up every scrap of paper, equipment and glassware that was in the secret labs under the Pharmacy building. It was an empty, lifeless shell... and that left just one more shell to take life from... Dr. Heinz was lying on his bed in his makeshift bedroom. He had watched the dismantling of his laboratories, the taking of his papers, the removal of his life's scientific work. He was in pain; he was in the last stages of cancer and would soon die, anyway. As the last of the workers finished up, Wargrave came to his bedside and sat down. "I'm sorry, Dr. Heinz, but you won't be leaving this room." Wargrave held what looked like a flask that normally held saké, the national wine of Japan... but the contents were not something anyone would want to drink. "I don't get to see Laura one last time?" the old man asked. "Not one last phone call to say goodbye to her?" "No. I'm sorry." said Wargrave, feeling genuinely sorry for the old man, but knowing he could not allow that contact. "Now, you can drink this, and go out the way the great Socrates did, or I can shoot you. I'll make it painless, but it's your choice." "Give me the flask." Heinz said. He drank the potion. "Ah, you put it in mint julep. That was nice of you." Wargrave waited and watched as Heinz said "My legs are numb, I cannot feel them... ah, no more pain, it feels so good to have no more pain." "It won't be long, Doctor." Wargrave said. "When it reaches your heart, you'll go to sleep." "Yes, it's happening now." Heinz said, his voice drifting. "Ah, the Light, it's so beautiful... God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob... ah, my Lord Jesus... He is coming, He has come for me! He is here!" Heinz smiled, a smile of supreme joy. Wargrave just watched, not understanding. After a moment he realized that Heinz was staring sightlessly into space. He felt for the old man's pulse; there was none. Dr. Heinz was dead. If any man deserved eternal rest and joy for a job well done on earth, it was Heinz. He had saved many Jews from the Nazis. He had saved many Jews from death while working behind the Iron Curtain. He had saved many others and helped them to Freedom in the West. Despite all Wargrave's money and power, Wargrave could never hope for his soul to equal the soul that had just left the disease-racked body of the old man; that soul was now sitting at the right hand of God... -- There was joy in Town & County Police Headquarters the afternoon of July 9th when it was announced that Detective Ross was awake. She was not completely out of the woods yet, but everyone knew that her odds were much more in her favor now. Bettina had even broken into the soap operas to announce the news, and the entire Town and County seemed much happier. The doctors had thrown everyone out of the hospital, except Teresa, Molly... and Molly and Cindy's parents. They'd come down from Canada. Relations between them and Cindy had been strained (at best) for years over Cindy's sexual orientation, but that was forgotten for the moment when they saw their daughter bravely clinging to life after having bravely nearly sacrificed it. Cindy seemed happy to see them, also. The Chief and I had reinforced the instructions to the Force to not tire Cindy out by visiting, and to let her rest and get better. She still needed lots of rest. -- "Hello, honey." I said as I entered Laura's office in the University Psychology building late that afternoon. "Why did you need me to come down?" My wife had called and asked me to come to her office, claiming it was urgent. "I can't get hold of Dr. Heinz." said Laura. "He's not answering is cell phone nor any of his office phones. Some of his 'aboveground' students went to his home, but he wasn't there, either." "Did you try the, er, other place?" I asked, and Laura knew I was intimating the secret underground laboratory. "Yes, and that's the thing, Don, that's why I called you: I can't get down there. The code has been changed, and I can't access the elevator." "Ohhhhhh, shit." I said, fully understanding. Laura understood, also. "Okay, let me call Cindy- dammit, I mean let me call... Tanya Perlman to back us up, then we'll try to get down there." Tanya arrived within a few moments. I instructed her to wait for us in the hallway of the Pharmacy Building, in front of the door that led to the secret basement, telling her that if we weren't back in half an hour or if she didn't hear from us, to bring heaven and earth to dig us out of the basement passage that was below us. Her eyes sparkled as she realized something big was going on. Going in, Laura's card worked to get us to the back room and the elevator, but the elevator would not respond to her numeral entry. "Let me try." I said, punching in a code. The elevator shut and began moving down. "How did you do that?" Laura asked. "Manufacturers' code." I said. "I used to sell these security devices, remember? Well, to keep from getting sued, they install an ultimate fail-safe code in addition to the one the customers ask for. I've always remembered those codes. Most customers don't realize those codes exist, and leave them in place. Seems the Company even forgot about it, or didn't know." "Good thing you didn't turn to a life of crime, what with all that knowledge." Laura joked as we got off the elevator. She didn't know how right she was, I mused. I also did not tell her that that was how I'd gotten to P. Harvey Eckhart's luxurious suite when I'd been at The Vision's World Headquarters. Just as we stepped off, the light in the elevator went off; it was totally dead. "How are we going to get out of here?" Laura asked nervously. "Secret Passage to the Conservatory." I said, half joking. "I'm sure there's a back way out of here." We went down the dark hallway. An eerie blue light was coming out of the lab door. When we looked in, we got a shock: everything was gone. Every cabinet, every piece of equipment. The lab benches, the shelves and cabinets, had been taken down and removed. Only floor remained. One of the fume hoods remained against the back wall; there had been four fume hoods before. That hood was the source of the blue light, the only light in the room. I heard Laura cry out. She had found Dr. Heinz. She was sitting in the chair next to the bed, holding his wrist. "He's gone." she said, trying to hold herself together. "I'll give you a minute and look around." I said. The back office was totally empty; every desk taken, every scrap of paper. "I'm surprised they didn't buff wax the frickin' floor." I said to myself as I looked at the far wall. I moved to it and began feeling around. I had to reach up high, but I felt a latch and engaged it. the wall panel came loose and I swung it open. Behind the wall was another elevator, with a dim light. "Laura, let's go!" I called out, running back to the little bedroom. Laura came out of her moment of mourning as I quickly wrapped Heinz's body in the blanket beneath him and hauled him over my shoulder. We made our way to the elevator, stepping inside. I entered the manufacturers' code. To our relief, the elevator doors closed and begin going up! Trilogy: The Darkest Night The doors on the other side of the elevator opened into a dark space when it stopped. Laura and I stepped out with Heinz's body, and the doors closed, leaving us in near-pitch blackness. The elevator's light had gone out; it, too, was dead. Laura got a strong flashlight out of her purse. "Some kind of maintenance room." she said. We could hear the machinery of the air conditioning unit. "I see a crack of light over there." I said, pointing forward. We made our way to it. It was a metal double door that, fortunately, opened from the inside. Going out, we saw some steps that led up to ground level, outside the Pharmacy Building. Putting Dr. Heinz's mortal remains down, I got on the radio and called Tanya to come around to the other side of the Pharmacy Building. When she arrived, wondering how we got there, all I did was tell her who Dr. Heinz was, and to do a quick toxicology on him. She called the EMTs to transport Dr. Heinz to the morgue. -- "It is just so sad." said Dr. Wellman. He and his wife Sally had come to the Mountain Nest to see Laura after hearing the news of Dr. Heinz's death. "His students are devastated. I'm pretty devastated by it myself. And I know he was like a father to you, Laura." "Yes, sir, he was." Laura replied. Also in the room were Jack Muscone and his girlfriend Elizabeth. They'd come from the City to pursue the legal case against the rogue CIA agents, including the recalcitrant bitch being held in my jails. At that moment, my mother came into the room with little Jim. Everyone 'ooh'ed and 'ahh'ed over him, and then, knowing it was the correct thing to do, Sally Wellman and Jack's girlfriend went with Phyllis to see Carole in the other room. "So they cleaned out the lab?" Wellman quietly asked. "Yes sir." I said. "Totally. And I'm not sure Dr. Heinz died of natural causes. I'm having my Crime Lab do a toxicology screen. I'll know more tomorrow." "Wow, I didn't think Bartholomew Scott could make something like that happen that quickly." Jack Muscone said. "I don't think Scott was the one behind this." I replied. "Jody Corrigan, maybe, but I think someone else came in and cleaned this up." "By the way," Jack Muscone asked. "Any idea who those four shooters were that came in with the heavy firepower and saved you?" "No." I said. "I figured it was Laura's or your guys, but you're both denying it. Whoever they were, I owe 'em a case of beer." I did not mention that I'd thought about just that... the identities of those guys. I did think that it was very possible they were the same guys or from the same group that had saved me from Ned at Ward Harvester. I had guardian angels, and was grateful for it. "Okay, I'm beside myself wanting to know," Jack Muscone said, his small eyes getting as close to twinkling as they could, "how in the hell did you do that to Scott's desk?" Everyone looked at me, also wanting to know how I'd destroyed Scott's desk with one blow. "Oh, you can't expect a magician to tell all his secrets." I replied. Neither Muscone nor Dr. Wellman would let me get away with that. "Okay, I'll tell you." I said. "I went from the hospital to the Pharmacy building and broke into Scott's office. I sawed the wooden desk from underneath until it was barely holding on, then cleaned up the sawdust. So when I popped in the next morning and hit the desk with the crowbar, Shazam! I figured I'd get the bastard's attention." "You got that, all right." said Dr. Wellman. "He sent his resignation that night and I haven't heard from him nor seen him since. The desk is still there, by the way, still split in two. Whom do I bill for that mess, Lieutenant?" I hoped he was kidding. "Just get whoever cleaned out the basement lab to clean that up." I said. "I have never seen a place made so empty so quickly, since they obviously had to work in night-time hours only." "That's true." said Wellman. "I talked to Mr. Wargrave today, and he was totally shocked by the news, though I know he'd given money grants to some of those projects as well as the aboveground ones..." Wellman caught himself and quickly moved to change the subject. "Okay, Laura, Dr. Heinz's students know you're going to take over what projects he had left, and at least get them to their advanced degrees before shutting it all down. I'll let you handle all that, and I appreciate you doing that extra work." "Thank you, sir, I'm glad to do it." Laura said. "By the way, Don is doing all the funeral arrangements." "Ah, that's good." said Dr. Wellman. At that moment, Mrs. Wellman, Elizabeth, and my mother showed back up, and the Wellman and Muscone parties made their goodbyes. It was late and Laura was barely hanging on. After checking up on a sleeping Carole in her crib, we went to the master bedroom, where little Jim was sleeping in his crib. Laura was just standing there. I took her into my arms and she finally broke down and began crying. I held her for a very long time as she let it all out... -- Supervisor Tanya Perlman came to my office the next morning. With her was Dr. Lawrence Woodrow, whom Tanya had called in to consult upon Barry Oliver's advice. He introduced himself by saying "Go Wildcats!" as he shook my hand. "Go Wildcats!" I replied; I liked him already. We made a few moments of small-talk about our mutual Chemistry degrees from our School before getting down to business. "Hemlock." Tanya said. "I've never seen it before, but it's hemlock, the same stuff they gave Socrates to drink to complete his death sentence." "I haven't seen this in years, myself." said Dr. Woodrow. "And that time was almost by accident; I just happened to be in the right time and place in Prague when someone committed suicide by it." "Any signs of trauma or force on the body?" I asked. "No sir." Tanya said. "But CMB said Dr. Heinz was almost dead of cancer as it was. He may have just decided to end his life." "Not from what I know of that man." I said. "He was no quitter." There was no doubt in my mind that the destruction of that secret lab had included the destruction of Dr. Heinz's mind and body... "Dr. Woodrow, I can't think you enough for consulting with us on this." I said. "Lieutenant, it was fun." Dr. Woodrow said. "Although the occasion is sad, I really enjoyed working with Supervisor Perlman, and I hope I can work with your Crime Lab again." "I'm sure we'll find opportunities to do just that." I said. I just love it when things fall into place. And a call to Molly confirmed that Cindy was getting better and better... Part 6 - Plotting and Planning "You're covering the death of some old Jew?" Katherine Woodburn said to Bettina Wurtzburg and Diane Williams, who were standing before her desk. 
 "He wasn't Jewish," countered Bettina, "but he saved a lot of them from the Holocaust. He was a hero for us behind the Iron Curtain, as well. The Israeli Knesset made a proclamation honoring him." "So fucking what?" said Katherine Woodburn witheringly. "University President Wellman has called and asked us to mention Dr. Heinz on our broadcast." said Diane Williams in her soothing but 'you-are-a-dumb-shit' voice. "But if you like, we can cover Daniel Allgood's campaign comments upon Cindy Ross's bravery." Woodburn grimaced; Diane Williams was not working out as well as she'd hoped, and she was proving as disloyal as Bettina. "Okay, go with the Heinz story, but keep your comments brief." said Katherine. "We don't need to be praising some fucking Jew on this good station. Make sure you get something good about Harold Malone into your broadcasts as well." she called out to the backs of her reporters as they left the office. Outside, Bettina said "Well, Diane, I think you might be blowing it in your opportunity to replace me here." "I don't care." said the blonde reporterette. "I'm already sorry I left my last job for this. The pay raise isn't worth it. That woman is going to get this place shut down." "I think there's a few things we can do." said Bettina. "Meanwhile, I have a couple of good stories for us to pursue, if you want to help me..." -- State Bureau of Investigation Agents Richard "Dick" Ferrell and Steven "Ass" Ikea walked into the lobby of the Marriott Grande Hotel in the City and to the elevator that went to the suites on the upper floors. They had to show their badges to the security people, but their names were on the list to be admitted. "What's this about?" asked Ikea as the rode up the elevator to the 18th floor. "I'm not sure." said Ferrell as he watched the numbers tick up. "Director Lewis told us to go to Room 1822 and meet with a VIP who would explain things to us." They knocked on the door to Room 1822. The door was opened by a short, husky man with a thin mustache and goatee beard, wearing a suit that did not adequately hide the firepower underneath the jacket. This man was security. "Come in, gentlemen." said the security man. "Make yourselves at home. My boss will be in to talk with you very shortly. Can I offer you a drink, some water, green tea perhaps?" Both men declined. The security man left for a moment as the two agents looked around the room. There was money in this, Ikea had decided. Ferrell observed the sterility of the room; they were meeting someone in a 'neutral location', a place where none of his secrets could be given away. Likewise, anyone seeing them walk in would not know who they were meeting. They did not have long to wait. The security man was back out within five minutes, and asked them to come into the back room. It was a makeshift office. "Gentlemen, thanks for coming." said the man behind the desk. Both men recognized him. He was the billionaire Henry R. Wargrave. Wargrave had not gotten up to shake hands with them. He instead waved at the seats in front of the desk. "Please, be seated." "Josh, hand them the files, please." Wargrave instructed the security man, who took two files from the edge of the desk and handed one to each agent. "As you gentlemen can see, this is a bit of information I put together. It seems that several enemies of our nation have been assassinated by a hit team. I have been able to show that there are only three people who took airplane flights to all of these places in the timeframe of the assassinations. "One of them is an FBI agent, who I am sure you recognize, Agent Ferrell. I believe he beat the living shit out of you during the Jonas Oldeeds murder investigation." said Wargrave. Ferrell looked up at Wargrave over his eyelids, not raising his head, not liking having that hideous memory brought out so strongly. "Another is one of the highest level CIA operatives in the country today." continued Wargrave. "I am sure you recognize her as the wife of a man who whipped you very badly a couple of times, Agent Ikea." Ikea nodded, his face a grimace. "The third is the assistant of the second person, they flew to each of these places together." said Wargrave, then paused. After looking at the materials, it was Agent Ikea that spoke up. "Mr. Wargrave, if I may ask, just what is it you'd like us to do with this information?" "Agent Ikea, there is one other assassination that occurred, and in the same town where all of these three people were on that same day. Perhaps it will occur to you." said Wargrave. Ferrell looked stumped, but Ikea's eyes shot up. "Jonas Oldeeds!..." Ikea said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Yes, Mr. Ikea." said Wargrave. "While I doubt Agent Muscone is the murderer, Dr. Fredricson is authorized by the CIA to lead what I call 'wet' teams. And her assistant, now Mrs. Daniel Allgood, is far and away the best marksman- er, -woman in the State, and among the very best in the country." "I can see the great opportunity here, Mr. Wargrave," said Dick Ferrell, trying to assert himself into the conversation, "but where do you want us to take this?" "Keep watching them while they're in our State." said Wargrave. "I suspect there is going to be an opportunity to catch Mrs. Allgood with her favorite sniper rifle... and you will spring in with a warrant to confiscate that rifle. Ballistics will very likely match the bullet that exploded the Reverend Oldeeds's head, and you will then be able to bring the Reverend's killer to Justice... and in a way, I might add, that will bring great pain to your buddy with the crowbar and his FBI friend." Ikea's eyes sparkled at this most pleasant but unexpected opportunity. "I can't thank you enough for this information, Mr. Wargrave. I don't want to seem to be looking a gift horse in the mouth, but... why are you doing this for us?" "Mr. Ikea," said Wargrave, "do you remember when Captain Malone let you down, threw you to the dogs and let the Iron Crowbar beat the living shit out of you? It really felt like you had the rug pulled out from under you, and by someone you trusted." Ikea nodded, his face a mask of hatred as Wargrave continued "Well let me just say that I feel your pain; I've had a similar experience, and I want to administer some payback. You get your Reverend's killer, you both look like the best agents this side of Elliot Ness for solving the Oldeeds case, humiliating Muscone in the process, and bringing pain to the Iron Crowbar and his family. What more could one do with such a few simple strokes?" Wargrave moved to close the meeting. "Gentlemen, if you will just leave those files on the desk, Josh will escort you to the door. Have a good day, and best of luck in solving the Oldeeds case." The agents left. "We'll have to recreate those airline records," said Ferrell, "but that'll be easy enough, and then we have several judges we can go to which can help us out. Director Lewis is going to be ecstatic about this. It'll bring 'Operation Restoration' a huge boost." "Yes." said Ikea. He was much more thoughtful. He wanted to find the killer of Oldeeds badly, and this might be his inroad with the Oldeeds Ministries... but he still had deep concerns about Henry R. Wargrave's true motives. He had no illusions about someone like himself playing in that man's circles, unlike that idiot the Iron Crowbar... Part 7 - The Hope Dr. Heinz's funeral was held in the University Chapel. I was pleasantly surprised at how many people came. Dr. Wellman and his wife were there, of course. Dr. Heinz's students had come, many professors of the Psychology, Chemistry, and Biology Departments and their spouses attended. Martin Nash came with his girlfriend Sandra Speer; in fact, Jack Muscone's entire team and many other FBI agents were in attendance. And there was international representation: the German Government had sent a representative from their consulate in the City. But the biggest surprise for me was when a distinguished older man came up to me and introduced himself. He was the Israeli Ambassador to the United Nations, and he spoke during the funeral: "On behalf of the Prime Minister and the People of Israel, I wish to express the condolences of Israel upon the passing of our good friend." he intoned before giving an account of the many lives Dr. Heinz had saved over the years, many who had emigrated to Israel, many who now had children, grandchildren,... great-grandchildren. Laura had said she didn't think Heinz was ethnically Jewish, and he'd accepted Christianity when he came to America. The Presbyterian minister who Dr. Heinz had been friends with for years gave the eulogy. I was dressed 'to the nines' in my most formal police uniform. Medals instead of ribbons, the Medal of Valor around my neck. The University ROTC Ranger Company had asked to be pallbearers for Dr. Heinz before I could even approach them (had Laura contacted them?), and of course I accepted their offer. Dr. Heinz's coffin was draped with an American flag: he had died a CIA officer after years of service to his adopted Nation. I'd had no trouble getting the Town & County Council to allow Dr. Heinz to be buried in the hero's area of Cemetery Hill, in a place of honor not far from where Officer Pete Feeley's grave was. Dr. Heinz's grave site faced East, the only death request he was known to have made. The Cadet Rangers ceremoniously folded the American flag and handed it to me, and I presented it to Laura, who was as close to family as the old man had. My wife was wearing all black, with a lace veil. Tears streamed down her face under the veil as she accepted the flag. I didn't know it at the time, but that flag would remain in Laura's office until she would retire, many years into the future. The saddest yet most uplifting part for me was when the Israeli ambassador and his entourage asked me to stand with them as they sang the 'Hatikva', the eons-old anthem of Jewish hope and Israel's national anthem. I felt very honored as they sang... Kol ʻod balevav penimah Nefesh Yehudi Homiyah I could not hold back tears, knowing that one of the people Dr. Heinz had saved was my great-grandmother. Without him, I was not even here... Ulfa'atey Mizrakh Kadimah ʻAyin letzion Tzofiyah Dr. Heinz was at Home, his eternal Home... even so, I vowed that he would be avenged here on this earth. It was a dark night now... but with Cindy recovering, there would be a new dawn, I promised myself... ʻOd lo avdah tikvatenu Hatikvah bat shnot alpayim Lihyot am chofshi be'artzenu Eretz Tziyon v'Yerushalayim -- To be continued.