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Chapter 27
February
12, 2001
Maranda
"Well, you just keep putting your self in a bind don't you, Ms. Hunter?" The prosecutor smirked. He was a fairly young man. In his late 30's, I'm guessing. His features were rounded, unpronounced, but his eyes boar into your soul. He was an evil man working for the devil himself. His eyes glittered a brown that seemed red in the halogen lights of the largely packed courtroom. He wanted me to cower, to hunch over like a weak, frail, insubordinate girl.
I sat straighter still. My writs were soar from my pulling against the cuff to correct my posture. Wrapped around a wooden post of the witness stand, the came only to my knees and my body was straight as arrows where my mind was faltering. I doubted many things. It was week three and the President made no effort to contact my lawyer.
The men who clamed to befriend me in my time of need cowered in the back rows, gawking at the one they considered strong in there little 'club'. I was still the strong one, but now I had their lives resting on the tip of my tongue. For the ones who escaped the law I had only to breathe word of their name. For the one caught, the watch, shackled like cattle, waiting for the thrashings I promised on air nearly a year ago.
"I don't consider what I do a 'bind', Mr. Tankard. I do what I must ad you what you must. I don't pretend to know what will kill me and what wont."
"As you shouldn't. You know you will die."
"Objection! He is manipulating my client."
"Sit Chris." I turned to the prosecutor. "If I die it is not because of what some court room says."
"Really?" The prosecutor leaned against his table. "Please explain."
"I will die for only one cause and one cause only. You may kill me, my body, but my porpoise will continue until it is brought to justice."
"Justice. So interesting you should choose that word."
"Why? Because you feel, you, Mr. Tankard. You, who have been a lawyer for the state for 20 years. You, who have hounded me for three weeks. You, who think you're the one who creates perfect judgment. You, who think that you alone will put me in jail to rot, to decay, to die because you are above the law."
I scared him. I could see it flicker and then vanish. He clapped his hands. "Bravo, Mr. Hunter, bravo."
I clenched my jaw and raised my chin.
"Do tell us what happened after you got to the warehouse."
"Now you wish to hear? It's a wonder with the smell of your ego that I can even breathe. Do you think I'll be able to speak for so long or will you give me chances to catch my breath by interrupting me? I know you and your kind thin interruptions throw me. I've been thrown too much to be phased by you."
He stepped up the witness stand, waiting for me to back down. "So tell us. I'll say nothing."
Monday June 2, 2000 - 8:45am
I cut the motor on the bike three blocks away knowing the sound of the muffler would bounce of the water and echo hid my bike a block away and made my way to the warehouse door.
Stupidity on theirs and luck on my part had the warehouse door open just enough for my body to squeeze through. I hid behind boxes and strained to see through the visor of my helmet. I dared not take the time to remove it. The seconds of my attention being diverted could mean Brian's life.
"Why am I here?" I looked threw the creak of boxes and saw Brian tied and cuffed to a chair.
"It's not you we're after." The man who held him captive sat only feet away in another chair. His back was to me, but I could see the pistol, older with a barrel, resting on his thigh.
Nothing but boxes and these three bodies were in this warehouse. I reminded my self that this advantage could not last for long. Who ever I was dealing with knew that only an idiot would leave one man behind.
"Who are you after then?"
"Maranda stupid." The Spanish accent puzzled me.
Surly these men could have dished out enough money to get one of their own to watch Brian. I came to the conclusion of two possibilities. One, the man's accent was false to hide his identity from me. Or the other, which means that he, may be more powerful that he seems. I was praying for the first, but it was probably the ladder of the two.
"Why?"
"She's the most powerful woman on earth. Didn't you talk to her?"
"Yes, but she told me her name was Veronica." Brian's voice cracked.
The man laughed, but the Spanish accent faltered in his next sentence. "She lied to you? Not surprising, but I'm sure she confided very intimate details with you."
"Why do you think she would?"
The man scoffed. "Because though she's the most powerful she's still a woman. A woman who is in love."
Brian seemed only mildly shocked. "You think she is?"
"The whole world knows it now." His accent was gone, but I still wondered if he could be stronger than I could. I moved behind the boxes to where I was behind the man but could see more of Brian's face.
"She's in jail. She can't come get me even if she wanted to."
The man laughed. I pulled out my gun.
"If she wants out she'll get out. It's only a matter of time."
"Very little time." I pressed the barrel of the gun against his head.
"Veer-Maranda?" Brian was amassed.
"UN-cuff him of I'll do it with your blood on my gloves." I tried my best to pay no mind to the stricken look that crossed Brian's face. "Give me your gun."
The man did so. "I didn't' think."
"Who are you?"
"You're boyfriend's hitman." He confessed.
"I don't have a boyfriend, move it." He got up and walked towards Brian. He pulled a key out of his pocket and started to lean forward to UN-cuff Brian.
"Charles would be upset to hear that." Just as the cuffs clanked against the floor I gripped the man and spun him around to face me.
Thrusting the gun at his throat I questioned him. "What have you done with Charles?"
"Charles is a big bad boy. Stick with choir boy over here." The man coughed, trying to breathe.
I jabbed harder. "Tell me…now."
"Look…" He coughed. "I can't talk…"
I loosened the gun just slightly.
"He's the man who owns you." This man was a coward with a gun. I shook my head at him.
"Charles must
be stupid to higher a sniveling little whip like you." I was glad the visor
hid the tears that escaped my eyes. The man I thought I once loved was the man
who made my life so bad.
"I'm shamed to hear you say that." I turned my head to look at a man
with black hair and blacker eyes. I glared be hind my helmet. Turning back to
the man at my grip I slapped him hard with my pistol, knocking him out cold
and sending him pushed him. He slid only feet before his head banged into boxes.
"You." I turned my gun out streched at him. "I'll kill you."
His hand came up, a gun in it. Rested agaisnt my chest as mine did agaisnt his. "We seem to he in a bind." He smirked.
"You are the devil's son.
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