Chapter VIII: Vigilantes

“…Are you positive that this is all you can remember about him?”

His voice scared her. Liz was used to Mark’s joyous voice, or at least to John’s calm, teaching words, but this… this cold, flat voice that was currently speaking to her really frighten her. It was almost as if the man that stood before her was somehow deprived of all kind of emotions.

‘Almost like a machine… Like the machine that I turned into when I saw John falling. I wonder if witnessing a partner die is the cause that this man now speaks like that…’

“Yes Sir. Brownish, filthy hair and a matching long beard concealed most of his face, but I’m pretty positive about the description that I gave to you.”

“And you say that the man dropped a bottle of tequila and that the diary was found on a pile of several broken bottles of the same brand of tequila, right?”

“Yes Sir…”

“And to whom else have you spoken about this again?”

“Only to Mr. Christian Clark and Mr. Mark Adams, Sir; to the first one when I got to the van in the shooting scene and to the second to instruct me on the proper path to file this… shit.”

“Please watch your words agent. You’re not speaking to a childhood friend here. This is a serious matter.”

‘Yeah… screw you too asshole’

How long has she been speaking to this interrogation machine of a man? How much more until they let her go to rest… Three days and they were still asking her about the same things. Liz felt… tired.

“You’re dismissed agent. We’ll keep you in touch with how this investigation goes. I think that the agency’s psychiatrist has asked for you to drop by.”

Liz let out a frustrated sigh and stood up to leave. This man, whom his name she didn’t even know, was really getting on her nerves. His always polite speech, his persistence for the formal titles and ranks, his annoying way to correct her when she was trying to act a little more humane, all were thing that she hadn’t experienced since she had finished her training. He almost made her feel like a child that was being accused of something.

‘Shocking news automaton: we’re not in the friggin army’

Her thoughts were so loud that one could clearly hear them as she almost slammed the door behind her.

Her mood lightened up a little when she saw that Mark was waiting for her outside of the office; the fleeting emotion of security left her as she looked into his dark eyes.

“Hey Liz? How you’re holding girl?”

“The same shitty I felt yesterday…”

“Well that’s goo… ohh sorry girl. Everything will smooth out again. Trust me. Either way I… I tried to contact my superiors to give you a week off so that you can recuperate from your experience…and ehmm… they can’t let you go, they said that they kinda need you here for this diary thingy…”

“Thanks boss. Nevermind. I can hold… Just tell me when we’re gonna nail down the bastard who shot John and I’m good to go”

Mark’s hand rested on her shoulder. His grip was slowly tightening. It almost reeked of affection, of sympathy, of pain…

“Boss?”

“I wanted to be the one to break you the news Liz. It was my investigation after all. If one is to blame for… whatever happened it’s me. They’re letting him go.”

Her voice rose above everything else in the floor. Her screaming causing Mark to flinch a little. “What the fuck Mark? Letting him go? Those morons are going to let this ruthless bastard out again? He fucking shot his wife while we were tapping him… how the fuck did he get out of this?”

“The investigators say that the only thing that they’ve found is that his wife committed suicide. He even acts like it was his fault for yelling at her, for what he claims was a wrong impression that she had an affair… The audio tape shows nothing different than that…”

“I’m gonna kill the motherfucker…”

Liz stopped in mid-sentence as she her palm rose to her burning cheek. The force of Mark’s slap forcing her eyes wide open with shock.

“Listen well Liz. We. Are. Not. Vigilantes. Got it? You think that only you feel pain about John? He has been my partner and in my team since you was still in the academy. He has been next to me far more than anyone else in our team. He was like a fucking brother to me. Yet you selfishly think that only you care about what happened. Ohhh I want Loukas go down as well little one. I want him swimming in shit for the rest of his life. But this is not our job. Our job is to ensure enough evidence that will put him away for life Liz. If we start to take the law in our hands then what is left to protect the system? There is a reason that cops and judges are two different persons. If we screw up our job description, if we start to judge whomever we want, then the system will fall. And without it say bye bye to democracy… only anarchy will remain where each one will take the law on his hands. We. Are. Not. Vigilantes. Got it?”

Liz was stunned. She had never seen Mark angry. He had never allowed negative emotions to show in his face in front of his team. He was always the cheerful anchor, the optimist that kept them going forward; those words weren’t Mark’s. But he was right. Everything he said was right. Yet as she saw his turned back leaving; only one thought lingered in her mind.

‘Screw the system Mark… Screw the system. The bastard is going down…’

~~~

A well dressed agent waited until the whole scene that unraveled in front of his eyes ended. He waited until he saw Liz moving frustrated towards the elevators. And the he entered the office she had just left; his thick dossier resting tightly in his grip.

He didn’t need introductions or a permission to start talking. His speech was as dry as his listener’s.

“Seems like the girl is right. According to the liquor store, it seems that the only one that consumed such quantities of tequila in the whole area was this drunkard. Also, according to the rest of the team that searches the place, he seems to be the only occupant of that particular room for at least the last six months. And, lastly, the tape analysis is over and pointing straight towards him.”

“Tape?”

“Yeah. Seems like this…” The suited man looked at his notes. “…John Coleman had finished setting up the audio surveillance and he was testing it on the room when this man showed up. The speech is terrible and slurred, and most of the words don’t even make sense -we believe that this is due to his state of intoxication- but there is a specific part that they managed to decipher a bit of the words. He seems to be saying at some point: leave the couple at the opposite of the building alone, or else they’ll shoot you. Indicating that, most probably, this is the author of the diary.”

“I’m still waiting for the good news agent Thompson.”

“There doesn’t seem to be any good news sir. We have yet to trace the man himself, and no one in the area knew anything about him, including his name. It seems our only way is to use official posters and pray to luck to help us find him…”

“Firstly, don’t call him man again. Secondly, I do not believe in luck agent. Luck has the annoying tendency of not being consistent and backfiring. Search the whole apartment for anything organic and sent it for tests. If this one is not archived in our files, either through fingerprints or DNA or whatever then we’ll see what we’ll do. Dismissed agent. Oh, one last thing Thompson. It seems to me that Adams’ team was set up from the inside. According to the mobster’s profile, from a quick glance that I threw at it, he’s power hungry and arrogant. I estimated that there is a slight chance that he will try to ‘show off’ at us in a vain attempt to make us cower, or to put it simply, to emphasize on his strength so as to leave him alone. Since agent Elizabeth Flores is our only alive eyewitness of this drunkard, I would hate it if something happened to her.”

“Got it sir. I’ll set some men to watch over her. But it may take a while since most of our own people are in the crime scene investigating for the man...”

It was the first time that the man behind the desk lost his calm; his fist slamming hard at the table. “Listen me well agent, for I will not repeat my words. Not man; never call him a man again. This thing we are hunting for can only be considered a beast. Understand that agent, for if you think of him too much as a common human, your resolve may wane when we will have to cage him.”

Agent Thompson gave a military salute and left the room.

A, still trembling hand, reached for a desk-drawer, as he opened it, a framed picture of a beautiful, young woman appeared. “Don’t you worry Hon’. I won’t let the beasts harm anyone else… No. Never again.” His voice different now, nearly sobbing, full with emotion and love…

Tears started running from his faded blue eyes as his other hand was nearly pulling the short, military-cut, white hair almost as if he wanted to tear them from his head.

~~~

“Fucking idiots. They call themselves doctors. ‘How do you feel agent?’” Liz imitated, mockingly, the psychiatrist’s voice.

“How the fuck do you think I feel moron? My partner was shot three days ago. ‘I feel peachy.’” She said with a girlish voice.

“Idiots. But noooo. If I told you this you would have cut me off from action wouldn’t you? Jeez… It’s not like my mind flipped. After all, there is no reason to flip at all. No sir, no reason. Just that I’ve found a diary that was speaking of events that transpired days later than they were written. Perfectly normal things…”

‘Calm down young lady NOW’ the voice in her head wasn’t her own. She knew it though; she had heard that specific command countless times. ‘I’ll put pepper in your mouth…’

Liz froze for an instant. Remembering why she had become an FBI agent in the first place. Remembering her most treasured memories of her mother… and her disdain for cursing, the same cursing she was sprouting non-stop those days. She felt something wetting her cheeks, a trickle that slowly grew to a steady river of tears, until suddenly, like an internal dam was broken, everything that she was holding inside her broke loose.

“…Mom… I miss you… why mom? Why did you have to die? Why did John have to die?” Liz finally said in between her sobs, as the tears that she had kept inside all those days were running free, blurring her vision, and almost causing her to lose the highway exit for her home.

By the time she parked her car, her cheeks have dried. The determination in her eyes has given way to dark circles and baggy eyes; the lack of proper rest finally catching up with her.

“A warm bath and some sleep… Yeap, that all I need now.” She muttered under her breath as she locked her car. Thankfully her apartment was just a few meters away, just across the street…

She was in the middle of the street when the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Her logic shut down, hid somewhere inside her head, as the familiar instinct of survival took over without a reason. She heard the side doors of the van directly opposite of her car opening; two figures armed with automatics started to fire. Her brain was absorbing information long before the doors had opened, memorizing the terrain, relaxing the muscles, releasing adrenaline. A mixed up sense of predator and prey overcame her as she was already jumping above her car to land to the other side; to find cover.

There were no words, no feelings, just facts and information to use in her advantage. As she lay on the ground with her back resting on her car and the deafening sounds of rapid bursts filling her ears she scanned her body. Thick red liquid was covering her right arm gushing out of a bullet wound on her shoulder. Her torso also felt wet, her white shirt already forming a dark stain near her abdomen.

‘No vital organs hit’ she evaluated as a crazed grin shined in her face. ‘One has stopped firing; he’s coming from the right to get me.’ His footstep’s sounds clear to her, audible even above the thundering, repeating fire of his partner.

Liz switched her handgun from her wounded right arm to her untrained left, counting his steps in her mind. She doubled forward, her chest resting on her knees, just enough to give her that one extra meter of vision as the muzzle of an Uzi appeared and she pulled the trigger. Without waiting to see the results she raised her hand backwards so as to align it with the bottom of her, now shattered, windows. A second bullet went flying. Her hand turned once more as she was rising in a pirouette to end facing the street; the sounds of both of the automatics silenced.

The nearest goon, the one that had tried to sneak up to her, was still holding his hand, frozen with shock. His eyes darting from his missing trigger finger to the fallen body of his accomplice. Liz’s eyes locked with his for a second, before, he too, fell to the ground with a new hole between his eyes.

Liz heard the screeching tires of the van as it lurched forward, trying in vain to get away from the massacre. Two more bullets went flying towards the distancing target, hitting both of its left wheels, forcing the van to steer towards the left; enough for the driver window to become visible, enough for Liz to plant another bullet in a thug’s head.

A sadistic low voice was whispering in her ear as she was standing there, motionless, her senses on their highest and drenched in her own blood. ‘Only three? Loukas could do better than that…’

~~~

Mark looked at his cell phone. The call recognition telling him that Liz was calling. He felt like he was treading on dangerous ground here. He had to show her enough kindness so as to overcome the pain of loss that was filling her up, but he also had to act like the stern tutor that simply has to get her on the straight way. Her talk of revenge and her, quite apparent, shift to a much more violent persona was frightening him. It was making it obvious to his experienced mind that she would fail her psychiatric evaluation test, forcing her to quit her job. On the other hand he had to battle his own internal war, for if they asked him too, he wasn’t sure that he could convince them that he wasn’t doing his best so as not to go over at Loukas' house and blast his head…

Mark decided to put on a more casual tone on his voice, until he could understand at least why she was calling, and act appropriate.

“Hey Liz? Feeling any better girl?”

“Mark… No time…”

“You’re ok girl?” Her rugged breath setting him on full alarm mode.

“Mark, send agents and ambulances to my house”

His voice rose so much that caused the nearest desks, those that were closer to his own closed office, to turn and look at him.

“Liz? Liz you’re ok? What happened?”

“They were waiting Mark… Three of them. Sent to kill me.”

“Where are you Liz? Are you ok? Answer me goddamnit” His free hand was repeatedly calling for help through his office phone.

“Yes. They’re dead. I stole a car.”

“Whaa…?”

“Shut up Mark and listen. Christian and Marcus are not answering their cellphones. I’m heading towards Marcus’ house since it’s nearer to me. Sent someone to Christian’s.”

“You stay exactly where you are kiddo. You’re listening to me? This is an order for Christ’s sake.”

“Sorry Mark. Can’t hear you” Liz said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she closed her phone.

“DAMN that girl” This time there wasn’t a single person in the room outside his office that didn’t turn to look through his drapes.

~~~

Liz saw the sirens flashing in the distance; parked in front of Marcus’ house. She slammed the brakes and darted out; policemen freezing momentarily without knowing what to do in the sight of the blood-drenched woman that was running straight towards them. Her badge that flashed for an instant and her clear “FBI” shout releasing them from their tight position.

The one that seemed in charge tried to intercept her path, oblivious to her state of mind. His brain froze in horror when she passed next to him, totally ignoring him. He stayed there, like a statue, for a second as he realized that all the red on her was blood, before he dashed right behind her shouting at her.

Liz saw the cops eyeing her weirdly, their hands resting on their guns, their gaze darting between them and the one that was following her; she didn’t have time for that now and so she paid no attention to them as she jumped above the yellow tape that they were already spreading in the entrance of the building. She ran towards the stairway that led to Marcus’ apartment, skipping two steps with each stride until she reached the second floor that he was living.

The door was open, yellow tape was sealing the crime scene off. She could clearly see blood on the carpet and men with FBI jackets carefully searching for evidence. ‘Too late’ her mind screamed.

“Show me your badge NOW” The shout of the chief policeman that has followed her was loud enough to make the agents stop whatever they were doing and look towards the open door; his gun clearly pointing towards her.

Everything crashed simultaneously inside her brain. She felt her eyes closing, spent from the effort, spent from the severe blood loss, spent from her failure to come in time…

Only one thing remained: her lust for revenge. ‘I swear to God I’ll kill you Loukas, even if it is the last thing that I’ll do’

And then everything went black…

~~~

Thompson was looking his boss with concern. He knew him far too well. He knew that this cold stare that he was giving him meant that he was bursting with anger. Yet, the voice that came out of his lips was cold as steel.

“I thought I told you to look after her, agent.”

“Sir… will all the respect, I didn’t have time to organize a squad to guard her. This incident happened just hours after I was given the command for Christ’s sake.”

“Thompson, you know I despise three things; swearing, mentioning His name in vain and incompetence. Your display of all those three simultaneously has been noted. Now, before I lose my calm, tell me what her status is. And doing so, watch your words and what you’ll report me.”

Blood has drained from Thompson’s face as he realized his captain’s veiled threat.

“She is steady and recovering Sir. No serious internal organ damages but the severe blood loss will cause her to stay in hospital for several days, if not weeks. The doctors also fear that the blood loss may have caused brain damage, but they can’t be sure until she wakes up, and they say that this will take days to happen. They say that it was almost a miracle that she could walk, let alone run like that, in her current state; and the investigators still haven’t figured out how she survived the initial trap.”

“Very good agent, very good. Just hope that she hasn’t suffered any brain damage, at least that her memory hasn’t. We need this girl Thompson. We need her to hunt down this new beast.”

“Aye aye Sir”

Thompson was relieved when he saw the glint in his boss’ –no, not boss’, captain’s- eyes. It was the same old glint that they shared from when they were at the army, from when the hunt had originally began…