Liz wasn't sure why Nila suddenly seemed so upset, but she put her hand on the woman's arm reassuringly. It's the 14th, Nila. What's wrong?"
"Liz...Do you know why I was being tortured? Do you know what's going on....what this was all about?"
Liz thought briefly. She sure wasn't going to tell the investigative reporter that she'd gotten a vision from brushing by her torturer on a crowded street. She couldn't mention the not-of-this-earth business....at all.
"I uh....no, I guess I don't, Nila."
"Well how did you find me then? How did you..." but as she looked at the young woman's face, Nila knew...knew that Liz wasn't going to tell her. 'Were Liz and Ava in on this? Were they maybe some kind of mafia princesses, who had been let in to the building and felt sorry for her and helped her get away? Or were they part of the operation?' But she had said Max and Michael were coming from somewhere meaning....they weren't local, despite Ava's accent. And she knew that really was Max's baby inside her, she'd heard the pride in Liz's voice when she'd corrected her, Liz Evans, not Liz Parker.
And she did trust Max....and Liz. She wasn't sure why, didn't really understand how everything had gone down the way it had at Florence Junction and damn sure didn't understand how Ava and Liz got her away from ...him. But they had. And she knew that if she tried to walk out the door right now, Liz wouldn't stop her, wouldn't do anything to harm her. She wasn't sure why, but she knew with absolute certainty that Liz and Max were on the right side in this battle. Maybe it was time for her to show some trust.
"Liz, It all started out when I was looking into missing persons....girls who had run away from their homes in Arizona, Nevada, Utah, and New Mexico...."
Nila talked for about 10 minutes, not really telling where Teri was, or her new name, she figured Liz didn't need to know that, and it might be dangerous for her if she did. But the important part, the immediate part, was that there was a shipment of girls leaving from the warehouse around noon. "We have to get to the police and tell them about it, Liz. We can't let them put that shipping container aboard the ship."
"I don't know, Nila. Ava knows this town....she's pretty convinced that the police may be infiltrated ...or on the take. Maybe we should wait until Max and Michael are here..."
Nila shook her head. She knew she had no idea how Michael and Max had ....well pulverized ...those two scam artists.....gotten their guns away from them and pulverized them at that. But this was a major mob operation. There would likely be a dozen people with guns guarding it. This was going to require more than a few kids from Roswell New Mexico this time. "Liz, we don't have time to wait for them...even if they had the firepower to do the job. They'll be loading those girls into a shipping container before noon, strapping them in, drugged to keep them quiet. The container will have just a few air holes up at the top...barely enough to keep them alive in the heat as they cruise through the Med....and Liz, it'll have some holes in the bottom too...you know why?"
"In case they have to pee....?" Liz said doubtfully.
"No. They put the shipping container with the girls on deck, outboard. If it looks like the Coast Guard is going to board them for an inspection, they turn so the ship coming to board them can't see that container and then push it overboard. The holes are so the water can get in quickly enough that the container sinks so all the evidence will be gone before the Coast Guard gets there. If they load that container on the ship, Liz. forty young girls will either be taken off to be sex slaves for the rest of their lives, or they will die in a watery grave somewhere in the Med or the Atlantic. I can't let that happen, Liz."
Chills went up Liz Evans' spine as she heard the words come out of her mouth. "I can't let that happen either, Nila. How can we stop it?"
NO GOOD DEED redux Mature (CC M/L) 10/2/06 complete 11/21
Moderators: Anniepoo98, Rowedog, ISLANDGIRL5, Itzstacie, truelovepooh, FSU/MSW-94, Forum Moderators
Liz's attempt to call the guys was unsuccessful, apparently in a tunnel or something on the way north from Boston. She'd left them a message telling them that she was going to the police with Nila. Her attempt to talk with Maria and Ava had been even less successful. She'd called each of them, in turn....and been rewarded by the sound of their phones ringing...Maria's on the recharger, Ava's in her coat.
At least Nila had been able to get through to her editor who was glad to hear from her....afraid she'd been killed. Nila tried to reassure him but as Liz looked at her....well, it hadn't been too far from the truth. Liz figured if she had been left there she well might be dead by now. At least the editor had a contact with the New York police that he knew. He'd worked with a Lieutenant Miller in Missing Persons, looking for Nila, and been impressed by him. Nila and Liz had talked it over and decided to go talk to him. It wasn't like they had a lot of options.....if those girls were loaded in to that cargo container and put on the ship they were as good as dead.
Liz wished they could have waited for Ava and Maria, if only to better bandage Nila. She really did look pretty bad. But Nila had been insistent. They got the address for Lieutenant Miller who, fortunately, was in this very precinct. Ava would have used the subway no doubt but Liz and Nila called a taxi. In only thirty-five minutes they were at the precinct asking for Missing Persons. The desk sergeant referred them to an office in the back where another sergeant was in the outer office. His eyes widened when he saw the damage to Nila and they had no difficulty convincing him to let them see the Lieutenant.
At least Nila had been able to get through to her editor who was glad to hear from her....afraid she'd been killed. Nila tried to reassure him but as Liz looked at her....well, it hadn't been too far from the truth. Liz figured if she had been left there she well might be dead by now. At least the editor had a contact with the New York police that he knew. He'd worked with a Lieutenant Miller in Missing Persons, looking for Nila, and been impressed by him. Nila and Liz had talked it over and decided to go talk to him. It wasn't like they had a lot of options.....if those girls were loaded in to that cargo container and put on the ship they were as good as dead.
Liz wished they could have waited for Ava and Maria, if only to better bandage Nila. She really did look pretty bad. But Nila had been insistent. They got the address for Lieutenant Miller who, fortunately, was in this very precinct. Ava would have used the subway no doubt but Liz and Nila called a taxi. In only thirty-five minutes they were at the precinct asking for Missing Persons. The desk sergeant referred them to an office in the back where another sergeant was in the outer office. His eyes widened when he saw the damage to Nila and they had no difficulty convincing him to let them see the Lieutenant.
Lieutenant Royce Miller looked at the two women in front of him, shaking his head at the appearance of Nila Spence. “Good Lord,” he said. “Have a seat. Do you need any medical attention?”
“I don’t really have time for that right now, Lieutenant Miller,” said Nila. “If we don’t stop them before 11:30 or so, the people who did this to me are going to be loading forty young girls in a shipping container. If they get that container aboard a ship those girls are going to die….or worse.”
Lieutenant Miller looked even more concerned and got out a tape recorder. “If you are sure you don’t need medical attention for another hour…tell us the whole story…starting from the beginning.” Nila started talking, giving Teri Johnson’s name and general location, ‘out West,’ telling what Teri had told her, then her own abduction. She really didn’t know what to say about her own rescue so finished simply with… “Then Liz and her friend found me and sneaked me out of the warehouse.”
After the thirty-five minutes of recording Lieutenant Miller turned off the tape recorder, shaking his head in concern. “I have to tell you, Ms. Spence, that I think that Mrs. Evans’ friend's concerns about the NYPD being compromised by people on the take are well….probably well-founded. Not most, certainly, but some local officers are probably on the take. Maybe some local judges too. But these guys made a huge mistake when they shipped these girls across state lines, and out of the country. That really makes it possible for the feds to take jurisdiction of this case. I think the best thing is for me to call a friend over at the FBI and to get the two of you to an FBI safe house. The feds will need for Mrs Evans to give some testimony corroborating your story…about the torture and location of the building, to get a federal warrant. Then an FBI team can raid it, skipping over anyone in the local judiciary or NYPD who might otherwise tip them off. I know that sworn depositions and all that sound like they’ll take a lot of time, but we’ll do what we can to expedite it. The problem is that if we just go in guns blazing anything we find gets tossed out, and these guys will walk. We’ll need time to do everything legal and still get the federal assault team together to get to these people before they load the girls…or dispose of them, but we are going to have to hurry. But right now we need to get the two of you to the safe house where we can type up your transcripts and get them signed and notarized so you can stay safe while we get the judge to authorize the search and seizure. Any questions?”
Nila looked at Liz who shook her head, then back to the Lieutenant.
“Let’s get going.”
Royce looked at his sergeant. “Larry, I’m going to call Special Agent Robertson over at the NY field office. You work transportation…something unmarked and hard to see into like a closed van so nobody knows they are in it. The safe house is in Queens, as I recall. I’ll get the address from him when I talk to him. He’ll set up the secretary to type up the statements and notarize them, then get a federal judge to authorize the operation. I'm not sure I'd trust any of the local judges...somehow by the time we get the warrant.....well, the mob just knows somehow.”
Then he looked at Nila and shook his head. “Maybe he can get an FBI paramedic too. I’m not sure how you are still on your feet, Ms. Spence. I don’t think I would be, if I were in your condition.”
As he left the interview room and went to his office to phone, Liz looked at Nila and winced. The officer was right. She looked like she had been through hell, several of her facial wounds obviously infected. ‘Hang in there Nila,’ she thought. She wished that Max could just heal the woman but knew he couldn’t.
Even if they could trust her with the secret, the damage to her was also evidence of a crime…..a crime those bastards needed to pay for.
“I don’t really have time for that right now, Lieutenant Miller,” said Nila. “If we don’t stop them before 11:30 or so, the people who did this to me are going to be loading forty young girls in a shipping container. If they get that container aboard a ship those girls are going to die….or worse.”
Lieutenant Miller looked even more concerned and got out a tape recorder. “If you are sure you don’t need medical attention for another hour…tell us the whole story…starting from the beginning.” Nila started talking, giving Teri Johnson’s name and general location, ‘out West,’ telling what Teri had told her, then her own abduction. She really didn’t know what to say about her own rescue so finished simply with… “Then Liz and her friend found me and sneaked me out of the warehouse.”
After the thirty-five minutes of recording Lieutenant Miller turned off the tape recorder, shaking his head in concern. “I have to tell you, Ms. Spence, that I think that Mrs. Evans’ friend's concerns about the NYPD being compromised by people on the take are well….probably well-founded. Not most, certainly, but some local officers are probably on the take. Maybe some local judges too. But these guys made a huge mistake when they shipped these girls across state lines, and out of the country. That really makes it possible for the feds to take jurisdiction of this case. I think the best thing is for me to call a friend over at the FBI and to get the two of you to an FBI safe house. The feds will need for Mrs Evans to give some testimony corroborating your story…about the torture and location of the building, to get a federal warrant. Then an FBI team can raid it, skipping over anyone in the local judiciary or NYPD who might otherwise tip them off. I know that sworn depositions and all that sound like they’ll take a lot of time, but we’ll do what we can to expedite it. The problem is that if we just go in guns blazing anything we find gets tossed out, and these guys will walk. We’ll need time to do everything legal and still get the federal assault team together to get to these people before they load the girls…or dispose of them, but we are going to have to hurry. But right now we need to get the two of you to the safe house where we can type up your transcripts and get them signed and notarized so you can stay safe while we get the judge to authorize the search and seizure. Any questions?”
Nila looked at Liz who shook her head, then back to the Lieutenant.
“Let’s get going.”
Royce looked at his sergeant. “Larry, I’m going to call Special Agent Robertson over at the NY field office. You work transportation…something unmarked and hard to see into like a closed van so nobody knows they are in it. The safe house is in Queens, as I recall. I’ll get the address from him when I talk to him. He’ll set up the secretary to type up the statements and notarize them, then get a federal judge to authorize the operation. I'm not sure I'd trust any of the local judges...somehow by the time we get the warrant.....well, the mob just knows somehow.”
Then he looked at Nila and shook his head. “Maybe he can get an FBI paramedic too. I’m not sure how you are still on your feet, Ms. Spence. I don’t think I would be, if I were in your condition.”
As he left the interview room and went to his office to phone, Liz looked at Nila and winced. The officer was right. She looked like she had been through hell, several of her facial wounds obviously infected. ‘Hang in there Nila,’ she thought. She wished that Max could just heal the woman but knew he couldn’t.
Even if they could trust her with the secret, the damage to her was also evidence of a crime…..a crime those bastards needed to pay for.
Last edited by greywolf on Thu Nov 09, 2006 10:26 am, edited 1 time in total.
Royce Miller came back to the interrogation room and sat down.
“I just got off the phone to Art Robertson at the local Bureau field office. He says they’ve had rumors about this operation, but this is their first big break. They have a safe house down in Queens…I’ve got the address. He want you moved CAREFULLY to there, because he wants to both preserve your safety and the secret location of the safe house. He can be there with a court stenographer in 30 minutes…..get the depositions typed up, signed, notarized, and off to a federal judge within another 30 minutes. He’s already putting together the assault team for the warehouse. Any tactical information you can give us on that would be appreciated Mrs. Evans. The way you talked it sounded like the two of you just walked in and the three of you just walked out. I know it was more complicated than that. Anything, physical layout, placement of guards, hidden entrances or exits, …..anything at all, can help those agents get in there to those girls before anything happens to them. Do you understand?”
Liz nodded her head, her mind already working. What could she give the FBI to help them….without revealing the alien connection. Not even as much as she’d told Nila, actually. I mean, this was the FBI for crying out loud. Not the Special Unit certainly, but the parent outfit for the people that had chased them for years, that had…vivisected… Lonnie to death.
But if they weren’t fast enough….how many of those girls would be killed…just to shut them up? ‘I wish Max and Michael were here.’ she thought. But that was still hours away.
The sergeant from Missing Persons adjusted the flak vests for both women, trying to ensure the straps didn’t fall against the lacerations, bruises and burns on Nila’s shoulders and torso, an almost impossible job. The fit on Liz was actually worse, the manufacturer apparently not considering the adjustments that would be necessary for someone six months pregnant when the fastenings were designed. Her chest was covered well enough, but her abdomen protruded noticeably at the front of the flak vest, a six inch area in the midline of the abdomen not really covered at all. Sergeant Larry Andrews looked at her…thought briefly about cannibalizing another vest to cover her, but decided it would be too heavy for her.
"The vests are just a precaution anyway,” he reassured her. We are going to have you just hunker down in the van from the time we leave the police garage until the time we close the garage door at the safe house. Do you understand that?” Both girls nodded that they did, and he lead them to the back stairwell where they met Royce Miller.
Andrews preceded them, Miller watched their backs, as they descended four floors to the underground parking garage. Miller guarded them as Andrews finished checking the vehicle out from the police mechanic, watching through a door cracked open in the back stairwell as other officers came and went using the elevator and front stairwell. Finally, Sergeant Andrews was able to drive the truck back toward the rear stairwell and, shielded by the body of the truck, Miller ushered the two flak jacket clad women into the van.
Miller had them sit on the floor and he pulled out a couple of blankets to cover them with. Then with Andrews driving and Miller watching periodically out the back window, the van finally left the building and joined the heavy traffic on the streets of New York.
While he knew that time was an issue, Sergeant Andrews also knew he was operating at a significant disadvantage. He’d driven for years in New York City, and in a city where every taxicab driver is leaning on his horn and shouting profanities at everyone blocking his way, a guy in a panel truck trying to be inconspicuous was going to travel slowly. Unlike some cities where people actually yielded the right of way, that never happened in New York unless you were assertive enough to actually TAKE the right of way, and when the job is to be inconspicuous, you just couldn’t do that. And it might have been different too if it had been an obvious police vehicle, but the van had been chosen precisely because it was NOT an obvious police vehicle, because that might have tipped off passers-by about the nature of the destination. Lastly, Andrews wanted to guard the location of their destination, so he made quick cutbacks, sudden turns onto off-ramps, and unexpected trips through alleys and industrial areas in an effort to shake off anyone who might be tracking them, Miller confirming from the back window that they were not being followed.
With all these considerations, it was closer to an hour than a half hour when the van finally pulled in to the building and Nila and Liz heard the garage door close behind them. Stiff from hiding under the blankets, they were grateful as Royce Miller helped them to their feet while Andrews went around to open the rear doors. As the doors opened they heard Andrews say, “Well, here are the people with the information you need.” The bright halogen lights shining down from the ceiling initially blinded them and they couldn’t at first see who awaited them, but Nila recognized the voice instantly.
“Why Nila…,” said Radoslav Stoyanov, “…you’ve come back to me….and you’ve brought a friend…”
“I just got off the phone to Art Robertson at the local Bureau field office. He says they’ve had rumors about this operation, but this is their first big break. They have a safe house down in Queens…I’ve got the address. He want you moved CAREFULLY to there, because he wants to both preserve your safety and the secret location of the safe house. He can be there with a court stenographer in 30 minutes…..get the depositions typed up, signed, notarized, and off to a federal judge within another 30 minutes. He’s already putting together the assault team for the warehouse. Any tactical information you can give us on that would be appreciated Mrs. Evans. The way you talked it sounded like the two of you just walked in and the three of you just walked out. I know it was more complicated than that. Anything, physical layout, placement of guards, hidden entrances or exits, …..anything at all, can help those agents get in there to those girls before anything happens to them. Do you understand?”
Liz nodded her head, her mind already working. What could she give the FBI to help them….without revealing the alien connection. Not even as much as she’d told Nila, actually. I mean, this was the FBI for crying out loud. Not the Special Unit certainly, but the parent outfit for the people that had chased them for years, that had…vivisected… Lonnie to death.
But if they weren’t fast enough….how many of those girls would be killed…just to shut them up? ‘I wish Max and Michael were here.’ she thought. But that was still hours away.
The sergeant from Missing Persons adjusted the flak vests for both women, trying to ensure the straps didn’t fall against the lacerations, bruises and burns on Nila’s shoulders and torso, an almost impossible job. The fit on Liz was actually worse, the manufacturer apparently not considering the adjustments that would be necessary for someone six months pregnant when the fastenings were designed. Her chest was covered well enough, but her abdomen protruded noticeably at the front of the flak vest, a six inch area in the midline of the abdomen not really covered at all. Sergeant Larry Andrews looked at her…thought briefly about cannibalizing another vest to cover her, but decided it would be too heavy for her.
"The vests are just a precaution anyway,” he reassured her. We are going to have you just hunker down in the van from the time we leave the police garage until the time we close the garage door at the safe house. Do you understand that?” Both girls nodded that they did, and he lead them to the back stairwell where they met Royce Miller.
Andrews preceded them, Miller watched their backs, as they descended four floors to the underground parking garage. Miller guarded them as Andrews finished checking the vehicle out from the police mechanic, watching through a door cracked open in the back stairwell as other officers came and went using the elevator and front stairwell. Finally, Sergeant Andrews was able to drive the truck back toward the rear stairwell and, shielded by the body of the truck, Miller ushered the two flak jacket clad women into the van.
Miller had them sit on the floor and he pulled out a couple of blankets to cover them with. Then with Andrews driving and Miller watching periodically out the back window, the van finally left the building and joined the heavy traffic on the streets of New York.
While he knew that time was an issue, Sergeant Andrews also knew he was operating at a significant disadvantage. He’d driven for years in New York City, and in a city where every taxicab driver is leaning on his horn and shouting profanities at everyone blocking his way, a guy in a panel truck trying to be inconspicuous was going to travel slowly. Unlike some cities where people actually yielded the right of way, that never happened in New York unless you were assertive enough to actually TAKE the right of way, and when the job is to be inconspicuous, you just couldn’t do that. And it might have been different too if it had been an obvious police vehicle, but the van had been chosen precisely because it was NOT an obvious police vehicle, because that might have tipped off passers-by about the nature of the destination. Lastly, Andrews wanted to guard the location of their destination, so he made quick cutbacks, sudden turns onto off-ramps, and unexpected trips through alleys and industrial areas in an effort to shake off anyone who might be tracking them, Miller confirming from the back window that they were not being followed.
With all these considerations, it was closer to an hour than a half hour when the van finally pulled in to the building and Nila and Liz heard the garage door close behind them. Stiff from hiding under the blankets, they were grateful as Royce Miller helped them to their feet while Andrews went around to open the rear doors. As the doors opened they heard Andrews say, “Well, here are the people with the information you need.” The bright halogen lights shining down from the ceiling initially blinded them and they couldn’t at first see who awaited them, but Nila recognized the voice instantly.
“Why Nila…,” said Radoslav Stoyanov, “…you’ve come back to me….and you’ve brought a friend…”
Twenty minutes later it was as if nothing had changed for Nila Spence as she stood on her tiptoes, her arms pinioned behind her and drawn up by the overhead pulley, the hood back on. But she knew they HAD changed. She knew Liz was handcuffed to the post beside her...Liz who had only tried to help her, who hadn't asked for any of this....Liz who had her whole life ahead of her...her baby's life...and now this. The return to the terror of Stoyavan was crushing enough....but now Liz....Liz who had done nothing but help her...Liz who wasn't chasing after some Pulitzer prize...just helping a friend...Liz too was going to pay the price. 'No good deed goes unpunished,' she thought. And it was true. She'd heard Andrews and Miller telling Tony D. and Big Tony, "These two broads have made us....they know we are connected....they CAN'T be allowed to tell." Nila had seen Big Tony nodding his head. Twenty-four hours ago she had almost resigned herself to her fate....but not this....not Liz too, not Liz and Max's unborn child...
Liz was terrified as she stood there. Like Nila, her arms were fastened behind her..handcuffed together behind the post. She hadn't used her powers.....there had been the two armed cops.....a half dozen armed thugs, ....a couple of blasts of electricity wouldn't have helped.
She had hoped that they would use ropes or something less dense than the metal handcuffs to tie her....but they hadn't. Max or Michael may have been able to manipulate the metal of the steel handcuffs....her powers weren't that good, even strengthened by the hormones from the pregnancy. Her only hope was that Nila could hold out for another two or three hours....then maybe Max and Michael could do something...Ava and Kyle too, maybe. But could Nila last? And if they tortured her...what might it do to the baby? Liz knew she should worry about Nila, but somehow all she could think about was the new life inside her, as she prayed that life would survive long enough to be born.
Miller looked at the two women. Either could get him in more trouble than he could stand....and he knew it. He'd told Big Tony...and Tony had agreed, that he and Andrews needed to stay there until it was done....to finish the job so the women could never talk. Tony D. had been sloppy to let the woman get away....incredibly sloppy. He wasn't taking any chances. He and Andrews could stay for 12 hours...they had a cover story for that...but the two women would need to be dead before they left.
Radoslav was angry...incredibly angry. His contract DID NOT require him to provide building security.... that was the organization's business. They were the ones that had failed....allowing the young dark haired woman to get in...to TASER him or something. He was the aggrieved party...yet the fat bastard had chastised Radoslav for the escape. And then the ultimatum...he had 40 minutes..., no more, to get the information from Nila. Otherwise Big Tony turned his idiot son back on to the women....both of them, to use his own crude tactics...to beat the younger woman to pressure the older. How he longed for the old days when he had his ideals....these people were swine...there was little pretending any different. Even so, he had a contract....this was business.
125 miles away, Max was as scared as he'd even been. Not for himself....for his wife and unborn child. The message from Liz about going to the police had been as reassuring as the subsequent phone call from Maria and Ava had been frightening. They had found the room empty but quickly taken the messages off their own phones. They had gone to the precinct...Maria had gone in,,,but everyone denied ever seeing the woman. Somehow Max knew that Liz was alive....he was sure of it. He'd know if it were otherwise. But they were at least 2 hours away from downtown New York City... and he was frightened that something might happen before that.
Michael looked at Max. "We'll find her, Max. We will....."
At the steering wheel Kyle pushed the pedal down just a little farther, and the van edged up to 85MPH. 'We need to get there fast..,' he thought. 'And even then it might be ...too late.'
Liz was terrified as she stood there. Like Nila, her arms were fastened behind her..handcuffed together behind the post. She hadn't used her powers.....there had been the two armed cops.....a half dozen armed thugs, ....a couple of blasts of electricity wouldn't have helped.
She had hoped that they would use ropes or something less dense than the metal handcuffs to tie her....but they hadn't. Max or Michael may have been able to manipulate the metal of the steel handcuffs....her powers weren't that good, even strengthened by the hormones from the pregnancy. Her only hope was that Nila could hold out for another two or three hours....then maybe Max and Michael could do something...Ava and Kyle too, maybe. But could Nila last? And if they tortured her...what might it do to the baby? Liz knew she should worry about Nila, but somehow all she could think about was the new life inside her, as she prayed that life would survive long enough to be born.
Miller looked at the two women. Either could get him in more trouble than he could stand....and he knew it. He'd told Big Tony...and Tony had agreed, that he and Andrews needed to stay there until it was done....to finish the job so the women could never talk. Tony D. had been sloppy to let the woman get away....incredibly sloppy. He wasn't taking any chances. He and Andrews could stay for 12 hours...they had a cover story for that...but the two women would need to be dead before they left.
Radoslav was angry...incredibly angry. His contract DID NOT require him to provide building security.... that was the organization's business. They were the ones that had failed....allowing the young dark haired woman to get in...to TASER him or something. He was the aggrieved party...yet the fat bastard had chastised Radoslav for the escape. And then the ultimatum...he had 40 minutes..., no more, to get the information from Nila. Otherwise Big Tony turned his idiot son back on to the women....both of them, to use his own crude tactics...to beat the younger woman to pressure the older. How he longed for the old days when he had his ideals....these people were swine...there was little pretending any different. Even so, he had a contract....this was business.
125 miles away, Max was as scared as he'd even been. Not for himself....for his wife and unborn child. The message from Liz about going to the police had been as reassuring as the subsequent phone call from Maria and Ava had been frightening. They had found the room empty but quickly taken the messages off their own phones. They had gone to the precinct...Maria had gone in,,,but everyone denied ever seeing the woman. Somehow Max knew that Liz was alive....he was sure of it. He'd know if it were otherwise. But they were at least 2 hours away from downtown New York City... and he was frightened that something might happen before that.
Michael looked at Max. "We'll find her, Max. We will....."
At the steering wheel Kyle pushed the pedal down just a little farther, and the van edged up to 85MPH. 'We need to get there fast..,' he thought. 'And even then it might be ...too late.'
Radoslav took her hood off so he could see her eyes. The eyes told him much. Her eyes held pain...terror....he had seen these emotions in them before. But now there was another emotion as well. He studied her eyes, trying to read them. They looked at him...they moved periodically around the room...eyes always did.....except....they never looked in her direction. Of course. The emotion was remorse.....his Nila felt guilt....guilt that she had brought this young lady back here. Nila haw owed her, however she had done it, the pregnant woman had rescued her. And now, because of Nila, now she was in the power of these thugs, her life too now forfeit. He smiled as he went to the phone to call Big Tony, to make the deal.
It was twenty minutes later when Radoslav returned to the room. The two officers watched as he took off her hood, lowered her arms, walked her carefully over to the table and sat her down on the chair. As he sat across from her he looked into her face with what appeared to be genuine sympathy. "We have come a long way, Nila. We know each other...perhaps better than even close friends know one another, you and I. I know what you fear....what you fear the most. And I know what I fear for you.... I do not want these barbarians butchering you....getting pleasure from your pain. What has happened between us...that was business, not personal. I get no enjoyment from the pain that you suffer, you know that. And you know that these bastards will not let you live...either of you. You know too much. I can see the way you do not look at the young woman...it is as obvious as if you stared at her. She will die too, you know that, and you know that neither of us wanted that. I wanted....I still want, to make your pain stop...not to leave you to these barbarians. I would give you dignity in your death....you will find no dignity in how these men will treat you, and if you do not deal with me now....in the next ten minutes, you become their property...I can do nothing for you."
He saw the look in her eyes when he mentioned the young woman. He had been right. That was the key....but did she trust him enough?
"Nila...my Neonila....I cannot give you life, I wish I could...and I cannot give life to your young friend...that too is beyond my power...but I've negotiated for you with Mr. Diglio....with Big Tony.... and this is what he agreed to......You must die....but you will go painlessly...I swear this....and the young woman must eventually die as well.....but she can be kept here for ten weeks...long enough for the baby to survive.....I will come back from my country, Nila....this I swear to you...I will come back and she will be asleep......asleep when I take her baby from her.....it will be without pain I swear.....and I will promise you her people will get back that part of her alive, Nila. This is all I can offer...but I have never lied to you...you know this."
In the corner of the room Andrews and Miller exchanged looks, hearing the conversation. Neither were happy campers. "We gotta be at risk for 10 weeks for this pregnant broad? I don't think so," Miller said quietly. "Let's go speak to Tony D."
Radoslav saw it in her eyes.....the new emotion....despair. He knew then....she would do it.
It was twenty minutes later when Radoslav returned to the room. The two officers watched as he took off her hood, lowered her arms, walked her carefully over to the table and sat her down on the chair. As he sat across from her he looked into her face with what appeared to be genuine sympathy. "We have come a long way, Nila. We know each other...perhaps better than even close friends know one another, you and I. I know what you fear....what you fear the most. And I know what I fear for you.... I do not want these barbarians butchering you....getting pleasure from your pain. What has happened between us...that was business, not personal. I get no enjoyment from the pain that you suffer, you know that. And you know that these bastards will not let you live...either of you. You know too much. I can see the way you do not look at the young woman...it is as obvious as if you stared at her. She will die too, you know that, and you know that neither of us wanted that. I wanted....I still want, to make your pain stop...not to leave you to these barbarians. I would give you dignity in your death....you will find no dignity in how these men will treat you, and if you do not deal with me now....in the next ten minutes, you become their property...I can do nothing for you."
He saw the look in her eyes when he mentioned the young woman. He had been right. That was the key....but did she trust him enough?
"Nila...my Neonila....I cannot give you life, I wish I could...and I cannot give life to your young friend...that too is beyond my power...but I've negotiated for you with Mr. Diglio....with Big Tony.... and this is what he agreed to......You must die....but you will go painlessly...I swear this....and the young woman must eventually die as well.....but she can be kept here for ten weeks...long enough for the baby to survive.....I will come back from my country, Nila....this I swear to you...I will come back and she will be asleep......asleep when I take her baby from her.....it will be without pain I swear.....and I will promise you her people will get back that part of her alive, Nila. This is all I can offer...but I have never lied to you...you know this."
In the corner of the room Andrews and Miller exchanged looks, hearing the conversation. Neither were happy campers. "We gotta be at risk for 10 weeks for this pregnant broad? I don't think so," Miller said quietly. "Let's go speak to Tony D."
Radoslav saw it in her eyes.....the new emotion....despair. He knew then....she would do it.
Liz's back was aching as she stood in front of the post…her arms handcuffed behind it, the duct tape over her mouth.
She’d heard the offer the man with the Eastern European accent had made to Nila, and it terrified her. She’d wanted to rip off the duct tape somehow, to shout to Nila, tell her to say no, but she was also terrified of what they could do in the next hour or two. She knew Max and Michael were coming..knew he would anything to save her and the baby. It was the worst situation she could imagine. If Nila said yes…she and the baby would live, and Max would rescue them. But for that to happen…Nila would have to tell…and if he kept his word, the man would kill Nila. And even if he didn’t keep his word, the man might kill Nila anyway….and Liz…and the baby.
As she saw the fear in Nila’s eyes, saw her lips start to move, Liz Evans felt enormous guilt….guilt because she knew she was really glad….glad that she was gagged by the tape, glad that she would be an innocent bystander in however this deal played out….glad that she wouldn’t be tempted to ask Nila to die so her baby could live.
Nila knew as she stood their quaking, looking into his eyes…knew what her answer would be.
She’d seen what the other man had done to her. She was certain what he’d do to Liz, imagined the savage things he’d do to her…and to her unborn child. She owed Teri Johnson, but she also owed Liz. And while she could never repay Liz, repay her for rescuing her, or even atone for leading her back into this trap, she could buy her time.
Maybe something would happen, maybe Max would somehow find her, maybe she would somehow escape herself, just as she and Ava had engineered her escape. And maybe Teri Johnson would too. Maybe a mob hitman would be just too conspicuous for little Tucumcari New Mexico. Maybe, maybe, maybe…… The only thing Nila was sure of was that Radoslav had never lied to her.
If she gave him what he asked for, the baby at least would live. Liz might lose Max, and Max might lose her, but through the baby…both would have their immortality. That was all she could give them…all she could give anyone.
She wished…she wished so much, that she could just retreat into that room again and lock the door again, but she couldn’t, because the clock was ticking. Hell was coming, she knew it. All she could save was the baby, and then only if Radoslav were an honest man. She looked again into his eyes, wondering if she could trust him. In the end she realized, she had no real choice.
“Teri Johnson,” she said, “..is living in Tucumcari New Mexico under the name of Janet Roseburn. Her address is 328 Aspen. She works for Budget rent-a-car, at the airport.”
She looked up at Radoslav, the tears falling from her eyes,”That’s the truth, I swear. N-now tell me you weren’t lying…..that you’ll keep your word.”
Her forehead was bruised, battered, and swollen, but he kissed it softly.
“I will keep my word Nila. You know I will. We must check this of course, we will call the rental agency and see who answers, but I do not really doubt you. You will soon be out of pain, my darling. Rest now. I will release your arms…it is terrible to see you strung up like that. It will be over soon….trust me.”
As Tony D walked in the room with Mike D'Angelo, Andrews, and Miller behind him, the first thing he saw was the Bulgarian, holding the woman softly, kissing her on the forehead, and then giving her sips of water. He looked at the man in disbelief, and turned to find his surprise mirrored on the faces of D’Angelo and the two cops. Shaking his head he walked forward.
This was going to stop …..right now.
She’d heard the offer the man with the Eastern European accent had made to Nila, and it terrified her. She’d wanted to rip off the duct tape somehow, to shout to Nila, tell her to say no, but she was also terrified of what they could do in the next hour or two. She knew Max and Michael were coming..knew he would anything to save her and the baby. It was the worst situation she could imagine. If Nila said yes…she and the baby would live, and Max would rescue them. But for that to happen…Nila would have to tell…and if he kept his word, the man would kill Nila. And even if he didn’t keep his word, the man might kill Nila anyway….and Liz…and the baby.
As she saw the fear in Nila’s eyes, saw her lips start to move, Liz Evans felt enormous guilt….guilt because she knew she was really glad….glad that she was gagged by the tape, glad that she would be an innocent bystander in however this deal played out….glad that she wouldn’t be tempted to ask Nila to die so her baby could live.
Nila knew as she stood their quaking, looking into his eyes…knew what her answer would be.
She’d seen what the other man had done to her. She was certain what he’d do to Liz, imagined the savage things he’d do to her…and to her unborn child. She owed Teri Johnson, but she also owed Liz. And while she could never repay Liz, repay her for rescuing her, or even atone for leading her back into this trap, she could buy her time.
Maybe something would happen, maybe Max would somehow find her, maybe she would somehow escape herself, just as she and Ava had engineered her escape. And maybe Teri Johnson would too. Maybe a mob hitman would be just too conspicuous for little Tucumcari New Mexico. Maybe, maybe, maybe…… The only thing Nila was sure of was that Radoslav had never lied to her.
If she gave him what he asked for, the baby at least would live. Liz might lose Max, and Max might lose her, but through the baby…both would have their immortality. That was all she could give them…all she could give anyone.
She wished…she wished so much, that she could just retreat into that room again and lock the door again, but she couldn’t, because the clock was ticking. Hell was coming, she knew it. All she could save was the baby, and then only if Radoslav were an honest man. She looked again into his eyes, wondering if she could trust him. In the end she realized, she had no real choice.
“Teri Johnson,” she said, “..is living in Tucumcari New Mexico under the name of Janet Roseburn. Her address is 328 Aspen. She works for Budget rent-a-car, at the airport.”
She looked up at Radoslav, the tears falling from her eyes,”That’s the truth, I swear. N-now tell me you weren’t lying…..that you’ll keep your word.”
Her forehead was bruised, battered, and swollen, but he kissed it softly.
“I will keep my word Nila. You know I will. We must check this of course, we will call the rental agency and see who answers, but I do not really doubt you. You will soon be out of pain, my darling. Rest now. I will release your arms…it is terrible to see you strung up like that. It will be over soon….trust me.”
As Tony D walked in the room with Mike D'Angelo, Andrews, and Miller behind him, the first thing he saw was the Bulgarian, holding the woman softly, kissing her on the forehead, and then giving her sips of water. He looked at the man in disbelief, and turned to find his surprise mirrored on the faces of D’Angelo and the two cops. Shaking his head he walked forward.
This was going to stop …..right now.
“What’s going on here? A friggin love-in?” asked Tony D.
Radoslav turned toward the four men, irritation evident in his face. "The information you require is here,” he said, indicating the pad upon which he had written the information about Teri Johnson. Mike D’Angelo reacted first. He took the paper from Radoslav’s hand and walked quickly to his office. He was back in less than five minutes. He looked at Tony D. and smiled.
“Tucumcari lists a woman of that name at that address. I called the rental car agency at the airport and she answered…I think I even recognized her voice. I can talk to the people in Vegas. They can send a couple of men by car to Tucumcari. We can probably have this wrapped up in 12 hours.”
“Twelve hours? Drive? You never heard of airplanes?”
“Tony, airplanes have security. You put weapons in your baggage, you gotta declare that now. Twelve hours ain’t bad…”
Tony D. looked at D’Angelo and smiled, “I’m a reasonable man….eh Michaelito? If you say twelve is the best we can do….Well…it’s twelve then. Give the man his money then….let him go.”
Radoslav looked at the four men. “You have the bank account number. Wire the money there.”
“Big Tony didn’t want to send it on the wire. Give him the briefcase, Mike,” said Tony D as he nodded toward D’Angelo.
“Big Tony covered the full amount…plus a bonus,” said D’Angelo. “Take it and go.”
“This one...well let me get my needle.....I will put her to sleep," he said, indicating Nila. "The other...I will be back in ten weeks. Take good care of her. Make sure she gets her vitamins, healthy food, ….that she is well taken care of... ”
“Oh we’ll take GOOD care of her,” said Tony D., as he picked up the TASER from the table. “The bitch TASERED me…before we kill her maybe she needs to know what that feels like,” he said as he turned on the device and plunged it against Liz’s lower abdomen.
As the pain convulsed her lower abdomen Liz tried to scream, but the duct tape wouldn’t allow it. She fought to control her nausea, knowing that if she vomited with the duct tape covering her mouth she would likely smother in her own vomit. It wasn’t as severe as she thought it should have been. She thought it likely that her own shocking powers had given her some immunity. But even so, it was nearly excruciating. And she worried about the baby…she’d been having strong Braxton-Hicks contractions for weeks. She knew a lot about muscles, she had done research on muscles, she feared that the shock would start her in labor. If she delivered her child at 25 weeks….even in an intensive care nursery it wouldn’t have great odds….but here? On the cold concrete floor of an old warehouse? It would have none at all. She tried not to resist, tried not to look the man in the eyes. She feared doing anything that might provoke him.
Nila’s eyes went from the woman writhing in pain to his eyes and he saw that instantly. And what he saw in those eyes hurt him as badly as anything he’d lived through. She had trusted him….and she no longer did. She said nothing, his Neonila, but the eyes said it all. “Stop!” he screamed at Tony D. The man laughed at him.
“You don’t give orders around here,” Tony D. said to the approving smiles of the two policemen. “You’ve got your money…now go.”
“Big Tony promised me she would be well taken care of for 10 weeks, and then I will come back.”
Mike D’Angelo looked at the Bulgarian. “I just got off the phone with Big Tony. You ain’t coming back. That’s why you got the bonus. He said to tell you it wasn’t personal…just business. Just too much risk to keep her around for ten weeks. Maybe she gets away? Maybe her girlfriend shows up? Maybe she even brings friends. Just too much risk….it makes our police friends here…nervous.”
“No! You cannot do this. We have an agreement,” said Radoslav, glaring at D’Angelo and Tony D. As he started to approach the two the service revolver struck him alongside of the head, knocking him to his knees. When he looked up he was staring into the barrel of a 9mm automatic held by Royce Miller.
“The man told you to leave, That wasn’t a request. You stay here….you die too.”
Her eyes never left him as he gathered his instruments in his bag…and his eyes really never left hers. As he went out the door with the bag and the briefcase Nila’s eyes followed his. Somehow he believed as he left…that they always would.
“You’ve been an awful lot of trouble,” Tony D. said, as he approached Nila. I’m not as sophisticated as the Bulgarian,” he told her as he took the gun from his pocket. “But I think maybe I enjoy it more. This is my backup gun…just a popgun really. It’s hard to kill someone with it unless you hit them somewhere like the head or the heart…..,” he smiled then, as he fired the first round into her left kneecap, “..but we aren’t going to do that….the fun would be over too quick.”
Liz watched in horror as the man fired the gun into first one knee and then the other of the helpless Nila, screaming at her about the money she had cost him, the embarrassment she had cost him, telling her what they would do to Teri Johnson…what he would be sure the men did to her before they left her dead. The taunting seemed to go on for long minutes, but the woman never broke eye contact with the man, and if looks could kill, she knew it would be the man, not Nila, that would die.
Tony D. was surprised at how little satisfaction he was getting from what he was doing to the reporter. He was making her hurt…that was true. But he could see in her eyes…eyes filled with hate…that he was not getting to her. Whatever the Bulgarian had done, she had resigned herself to death, even resigned herself to the pain. But he wanted to see her suffer…he wanted to break her. And then he remembered….. Then he remembered HOW the Bulgarian had broken her. “Andrews….give me your piece.”
When the man’s eyes had looked at her, Liz’s fear had started to turn to panic. As he took the service automatic from the police sergeant she already knew what was coming. She watched in helpless horror, unable even to scream as he pointed the gun at her. She saw the flash of the discharge. It was like before…all those years ago. The slap of the slug like a physical blow as it punched through her abdomen and embedded itself among the blood vessels at the level of her kidneys…the pain...like before…not as great as you’d expect…..the nerves of the abdomen unfamiliar with such feelings, turning pain to nausea and nausea to weakness as the blood flowed out of the torn blood vessels into her abdomen. Her peripheral vision contracted and her vision darkened as her failing blood pressure could no longer properly supply blood to her retina…..
Liz didn’t know all the damage that the 115 grain slug had done to her abdomen, but her body was telling her the ultimate result. She was dying,,,,and her child would die with her. As she started to lose consciousness she wondered at the irony…it had come full circle. The girl who was destined to die of a gunshot wound to the abdomen in Roswell New Mexico would die the same way in New York City. But she wasn’t angry….there was no room for anger in those last few seconds. There was gratitude for every second of life that Max had given her and shared with her and a deep sorrow for the loss of the child she’d wanted to give to him.....the child who he would now would never see. Those were the feelings she sent out in the connection….unsure if he would ever even know. As her shock deepened her vision collapsed to black….and she thought and dreamed no more…..
Nila had endured the broken kneecaps and the pain had been less than the pain that had knifed through her when she saw Liz shot...when she saw Liz's eyes go wide with fear and pain and then...regret. Nila's mind screamed in agony...screamed and screamed and screamed. It did not stop...not even when a catatonic Nila returned to the locked room in her own mind, looking fearfully at the door, praying that it would never open again.
At the police station, Maria was in the lobby talking on her cellphone to Max. Ava was trying desperately, New Yorker to New Yorker, to get the precinct Captain to help find Liz and Nila.
“You really don’t give us much to go on,” said the Captain. “You say they just diappeared from the hotel?”
“No. I said they disappeared from the hotel AFTER leaving us messages that they were coming here.”
“Well Mrs. Valenti, they AREN’T here, and no one here has apparently seen them. If you can give me any idea of where they are….well I’ll get men there in no time. This precinct may not be the size jurisdiction of the Albuquerque Sheriff’s office, but this precinct alone has as many people as half of New Mexico. We can’t just go door-to-door looking. We’d need a search warrant, and we’d need probable cause…..you know that. So unless you can narrow it down a little bit, our hands are really kind of tied. “
Ava started to argue back but was interrupted by the phone buzzing. “Excuse me, Mrs. Valenti. I have to take this.”
“Captain, we’ve got a guy on the phone…says it’s an emergency, a couple of women being tortured, but he’ll only speak to you. Sounds like some foreigner kook. You want to talk to him, or you want me to have the desk sergeant talk to him?”
“Put him through I guess, Bill” said the Captain. He was surprised when he heard the voice…the voice with the Eastern European accent.
“Listen to me. Are you the precinct commissar?”
“I’m the precinct Captain. What do you want? I’m kind of busy here.”
“There are two women….they are beating them…planning to kill them. They are in the warehouse on dock 43…in the offices on the left as you enter. There are guards...two at the gate…two at the door. Other’s inside. You must hurry.”
“Thank you sir, we’ll get right on that,” said the Captain, putting the phone back in its cradle.
“Like I said, I’m sorry, Mrs. Valenti, Get us more information and we’ll be right there but without it….well, we’re just helpless.”
As he saw Ava leave his office he thought, ‘So Big Tony has an enemy….Eastern European by the sound of it. Better give him a call. He needs to stop the guy before he tells that story to someone else. And he owes me big-time for this one.’
As a disheartened Ava Valenti walked up to Maria in the lobby Maria looked up at her and said, “Michael says they’re about 60 miles out….maybe an hour and a half depending on traffic, maybe a little less.” As she started to relay what had occurred with the Captain Maria suddenly held up her hand, listening to the phone, her face a mask of horror.
“Omigawd Ava, Michael says it’s Max…Max is going crazy…he says Liz is ….dying.”
Radoslav turned toward the four men, irritation evident in his face. "The information you require is here,” he said, indicating the pad upon which he had written the information about Teri Johnson. Mike D’Angelo reacted first. He took the paper from Radoslav’s hand and walked quickly to his office. He was back in less than five minutes. He looked at Tony D. and smiled.
“Tucumcari lists a woman of that name at that address. I called the rental car agency at the airport and she answered…I think I even recognized her voice. I can talk to the people in Vegas. They can send a couple of men by car to Tucumcari. We can probably have this wrapped up in 12 hours.”
“Twelve hours? Drive? You never heard of airplanes?”
“Tony, airplanes have security. You put weapons in your baggage, you gotta declare that now. Twelve hours ain’t bad…”
Tony D. looked at D’Angelo and smiled, “I’m a reasonable man….eh Michaelito? If you say twelve is the best we can do….Well…it’s twelve then. Give the man his money then….let him go.”
Radoslav looked at the four men. “You have the bank account number. Wire the money there.”
“Big Tony didn’t want to send it on the wire. Give him the briefcase, Mike,” said Tony D as he nodded toward D’Angelo.
“Big Tony covered the full amount…plus a bonus,” said D’Angelo. “Take it and go.”
“This one...well let me get my needle.....I will put her to sleep," he said, indicating Nila. "The other...I will be back in ten weeks. Take good care of her. Make sure she gets her vitamins, healthy food, ….that she is well taken care of... ”
“Oh we’ll take GOOD care of her,” said Tony D., as he picked up the TASER from the table. “The bitch TASERED me…before we kill her maybe she needs to know what that feels like,” he said as he turned on the device and plunged it against Liz’s lower abdomen.
As the pain convulsed her lower abdomen Liz tried to scream, but the duct tape wouldn’t allow it. She fought to control her nausea, knowing that if she vomited with the duct tape covering her mouth she would likely smother in her own vomit. It wasn’t as severe as she thought it should have been. She thought it likely that her own shocking powers had given her some immunity. But even so, it was nearly excruciating. And she worried about the baby…she’d been having strong Braxton-Hicks contractions for weeks. She knew a lot about muscles, she had done research on muscles, she feared that the shock would start her in labor. If she delivered her child at 25 weeks….even in an intensive care nursery it wouldn’t have great odds….but here? On the cold concrete floor of an old warehouse? It would have none at all. She tried not to resist, tried not to look the man in the eyes. She feared doing anything that might provoke him.
Nila’s eyes went from the woman writhing in pain to his eyes and he saw that instantly. And what he saw in those eyes hurt him as badly as anything he’d lived through. She had trusted him….and she no longer did. She said nothing, his Neonila, but the eyes said it all. “Stop!” he screamed at Tony D. The man laughed at him.
“You don’t give orders around here,” Tony D. said to the approving smiles of the two policemen. “You’ve got your money…now go.”
“Big Tony promised me she would be well taken care of for 10 weeks, and then I will come back.”
Mike D’Angelo looked at the Bulgarian. “I just got off the phone with Big Tony. You ain’t coming back. That’s why you got the bonus. He said to tell you it wasn’t personal…just business. Just too much risk to keep her around for ten weeks. Maybe she gets away? Maybe her girlfriend shows up? Maybe she even brings friends. Just too much risk….it makes our police friends here…nervous.”
“No! You cannot do this. We have an agreement,” said Radoslav, glaring at D’Angelo and Tony D. As he started to approach the two the service revolver struck him alongside of the head, knocking him to his knees. When he looked up he was staring into the barrel of a 9mm automatic held by Royce Miller.
“The man told you to leave, That wasn’t a request. You stay here….you die too.”
Her eyes never left him as he gathered his instruments in his bag…and his eyes really never left hers. As he went out the door with the bag and the briefcase Nila’s eyes followed his. Somehow he believed as he left…that they always would.
“You’ve been an awful lot of trouble,” Tony D. said, as he approached Nila. I’m not as sophisticated as the Bulgarian,” he told her as he took the gun from his pocket. “But I think maybe I enjoy it more. This is my backup gun…just a popgun really. It’s hard to kill someone with it unless you hit them somewhere like the head or the heart…..,” he smiled then, as he fired the first round into her left kneecap, “..but we aren’t going to do that….the fun would be over too quick.”
Liz watched in horror as the man fired the gun into first one knee and then the other of the helpless Nila, screaming at her about the money she had cost him, the embarrassment she had cost him, telling her what they would do to Teri Johnson…what he would be sure the men did to her before they left her dead. The taunting seemed to go on for long minutes, but the woman never broke eye contact with the man, and if looks could kill, she knew it would be the man, not Nila, that would die.
Tony D. was surprised at how little satisfaction he was getting from what he was doing to the reporter. He was making her hurt…that was true. But he could see in her eyes…eyes filled with hate…that he was not getting to her. Whatever the Bulgarian had done, she had resigned herself to death, even resigned herself to the pain. But he wanted to see her suffer…he wanted to break her. And then he remembered….. Then he remembered HOW the Bulgarian had broken her. “Andrews….give me your piece.”
When the man’s eyes had looked at her, Liz’s fear had started to turn to panic. As he took the service automatic from the police sergeant she already knew what was coming. She watched in helpless horror, unable even to scream as he pointed the gun at her. She saw the flash of the discharge. It was like before…all those years ago. The slap of the slug like a physical blow as it punched through her abdomen and embedded itself among the blood vessels at the level of her kidneys…the pain...like before…not as great as you’d expect…..the nerves of the abdomen unfamiliar with such feelings, turning pain to nausea and nausea to weakness as the blood flowed out of the torn blood vessels into her abdomen. Her peripheral vision contracted and her vision darkened as her failing blood pressure could no longer properly supply blood to her retina…..
Liz didn’t know all the damage that the 115 grain slug had done to her abdomen, but her body was telling her the ultimate result. She was dying,,,,and her child would die with her. As she started to lose consciousness she wondered at the irony…it had come full circle. The girl who was destined to die of a gunshot wound to the abdomen in Roswell New Mexico would die the same way in New York City. But she wasn’t angry….there was no room for anger in those last few seconds. There was gratitude for every second of life that Max had given her and shared with her and a deep sorrow for the loss of the child she’d wanted to give to him.....the child who he would now would never see. Those were the feelings she sent out in the connection….unsure if he would ever even know. As her shock deepened her vision collapsed to black….and she thought and dreamed no more…..
Nila had endured the broken kneecaps and the pain had been less than the pain that had knifed through her when she saw Liz shot...when she saw Liz's eyes go wide with fear and pain and then...regret. Nila's mind screamed in agony...screamed and screamed and screamed. It did not stop...not even when a catatonic Nila returned to the locked room in her own mind, looking fearfully at the door, praying that it would never open again.
At the police station, Maria was in the lobby talking on her cellphone to Max. Ava was trying desperately, New Yorker to New Yorker, to get the precinct Captain to help find Liz and Nila.
“You really don’t give us much to go on,” said the Captain. “You say they just diappeared from the hotel?”
“No. I said they disappeared from the hotel AFTER leaving us messages that they were coming here.”
“Well Mrs. Valenti, they AREN’T here, and no one here has apparently seen them. If you can give me any idea of where they are….well I’ll get men there in no time. This precinct may not be the size jurisdiction of the Albuquerque Sheriff’s office, but this precinct alone has as many people as half of New Mexico. We can’t just go door-to-door looking. We’d need a search warrant, and we’d need probable cause…..you know that. So unless you can narrow it down a little bit, our hands are really kind of tied. “
Ava started to argue back but was interrupted by the phone buzzing. “Excuse me, Mrs. Valenti. I have to take this.”
“Captain, we’ve got a guy on the phone…says it’s an emergency, a couple of women being tortured, but he’ll only speak to you. Sounds like some foreigner kook. You want to talk to him, or you want me to have the desk sergeant talk to him?”
“Put him through I guess, Bill” said the Captain. He was surprised when he heard the voice…the voice with the Eastern European accent.
“Listen to me. Are you the precinct commissar?”
“I’m the precinct Captain. What do you want? I’m kind of busy here.”
“There are two women….they are beating them…planning to kill them. They are in the warehouse on dock 43…in the offices on the left as you enter. There are guards...two at the gate…two at the door. Other’s inside. You must hurry.”
“Thank you sir, we’ll get right on that,” said the Captain, putting the phone back in its cradle.
“Like I said, I’m sorry, Mrs. Valenti, Get us more information and we’ll be right there but without it….well, we’re just helpless.”
As he saw Ava leave his office he thought, ‘So Big Tony has an enemy….Eastern European by the sound of it. Better give him a call. He needs to stop the guy before he tells that story to someone else. And he owes me big-time for this one.’
As a disheartened Ava Valenti walked up to Maria in the lobby Maria looked up at her and said, “Michael says they’re about 60 miles out….maybe an hour and a half depending on traffic, maybe a little less.” As she started to relay what had occurred with the Captain Maria suddenly held up her hand, listening to the phone, her face a mask of horror.
“Omigawd Ava, Michael says it’s Max…Max is going crazy…he says Liz is ….dying.”
Last edited by greywolf on Sat Nov 18, 2006 11:15 am, edited 4 times in total.
His two bags were packed and sitting next to the chair in the internet coffehouse. He was only one block from where the ship would depart for Burgas on the Black Sea. The freighter would be slow, but he would be surrounded by his countrymen. His passport was good...he had in fact four passports, all good. He would soon be home.
But it bothered him....more than any of his clients had ever bothered him, that he had failed Nila...that he had...not lied, for the lie was not his....but deceived her, however unintentionally. He doubted the precinct commissar could do anything in time, even if he wasn't corrupt and in the employ of Big Tony.....'like me,' he thought, as he looked at the bag that contained the briefcase.
As his fingers went over the keyboard it took only a minute to run the search engine and find his result. District nine....New Mexico State Police. It took only a minute to send the message....he remembered her name and address well. Perhaps when they came for Teri Johnson, the killers would get a large surprise. It didn't really make amends, of course, but it was the least he could do. He wanted no victory over Nila...not one earned by deceit. Of all the clients he had ever had, she had been the greatest challenge, and the one he'd most respected. And she would be his last.
"For you Nila,' he whispered. "I wish I could do more..."
But it bothered him....more than any of his clients had ever bothered him, that he had failed Nila...that he had...not lied, for the lie was not his....but deceived her, however unintentionally. He doubted the precinct commissar could do anything in time, even if he wasn't corrupt and in the employ of Big Tony.....'like me,' he thought, as he looked at the bag that contained the briefcase.
As his fingers went over the keyboard it took only a minute to run the search engine and find his result. District nine....New Mexico State Police. It took only a minute to send the message....he remembered her name and address well. Perhaps when they came for Teri Johnson, the killers would get a large surprise. It didn't really make amends, of course, but it was the least he could do. He wanted no victory over Nila...not one earned by deceit. Of all the clients he had ever had, she had been the greatest challenge, and the one he'd most respected. And she would be his last.
"For you Nila,' he whispered. "I wish I could do more..."
As a stunned Ava and a distraught Maria left the 14th precinct they nearly collided with officer Jim Phillips.
Jim Phillips was the most junior and currently least promote-able officer in the precinct. He had arrived from the Police Academy almost 6 months previously, and had yet to do any real police work. This was not his fault, he had the makings of an excellent police officer. This was due to the fact that a police academy instructor, an alumnus of the 14th precinct, had informed his captain that he was a ‘boy scout.’ In a precinct where virtually all the officers and several of the meter maids were to a greater or lesser degree on the take from the mob, he was quickly neutralized by keeping him busy with largely meaningless paperwork.
Over the last 5 months he had utilized his computer skills to make up databases that streamlined the handling of the largely meaningless paperwork, meaning he had even less to do. As a consequence he had received tacit permission (Yeah, whatever…..) from the Captain to come up with a precinct website. This helped with scheduling, provided notification of special social functions, and had an items for sale or trade area for use by precinct personnel. It also had an email address for comments to webmaster@14thprecinct.NYC.gov.
In 15 minutes Officer Phillips would check that email account and find an email to be forwarded to his Captain, confirming a telephone call reporting the torture and possible killing of two young women in a warehouse on dock 43. After watching the warehouse for 20 minutes and seeing no police activity, this was Radoslav’s final act before walking down to the pier and boarding the Liberian registered freighter to the Black Sea.
He was, perhaps, being petty, because in all fairness the Captain had less to do with the situation of Nila and Liz than Radoslav did himself, but he had always hated officious commissars on the take, and Radoslav wanted to leave a computer trail that would at the least prove embarrassing to the man, if not incriminating.
Officer Jim Phillips took the email immediately to his Captain when he read it, and was amazed at the hostile reaction it drew. He was informed that he was an idiot, that they couldn’t do anything without probable cause, and that an anonymous and untraceable email was NOT probable cause. Surprised at the hostility, he said that maybe he could track down the location of the sender. He was almost equally surprised at the sudden interest the Captain took in that process, hovering over his shoulder until he had tracked the address down through the Internet Service Provider to an internet café near the docks. At that point, he was instructed to go back to his largely meaningless paperwork while ‘real’ cops chased this down.
It would be four hours later that Officer Phillips' shift would end. Out of curiosity he would look at the dispatch log, and see that four squad cars had been dispatched to that internet café, apparently without any success at locating whoever had sent the message. He would be surprised to see that no dispatch was ever made to the warehouse on dock 43.
He would be troubled by this, and on his drive home would to 'accidently' drive by the warehouse. As he drove up to the front gate, the two bodies he saw would cause him to believe that he had probable cause to enter the premises. Not being entirely stupid, he would make an immediate request for backup…..from the dispatcher at the 15th precinct.
As they arrived, he would be discovering the bodies of the two men at the building entrance. After that things got fairly interesting.
Officer Phillips would be the hero of the NY Post article the next morning ....the man who had discovered the scene of an apparent mass murder, most likely mob vs mob violence. Fourteen men, twelve of them armed in violation of New York City and New York State weapons laws were ultimately found dead at the scene. Two members of the 14th precinct, one Lieutenant and one Sergeant were also found dead at the scene, the latter in what appeared to have been a recently used torture room. Although considerable blood was found, no bodies of personnel who had actually been subjected to torture would ever be found.
The bodies of the fourteen dead would be the subject of considerable discussion before the autopsy and toxicology tests were finished, but the puzzle as to just precisely how they had been killed would remain a continuing controversy between forensic pathologists for decades. The case would eventually be forgotten, but never really solved.
Discovered deeper in the warehouse by Officer Phillips and personnel of the 15th precinct was a shipping container that held 40 heavily sedated and restrained young women. Their testimony would eventually reveal that one Anthony Diglio Junior, one of the men found dead in the same room with the two police officers, had been the mastermind of the operation. His father, Anthony Diglio Senior would deny any knowledge of the dealings of his son and announce that he was about to leave on an extended vacation to see relatives of his wife in Sicily. Lacking any provable direct connection, he would be allowed to leave the country.
The next morning Officer Phillips would dread seeing his Captain, certain that he would face some hostility for calling in personnel from the 15th precinct for backup. He would be surprised at how gracious the Captain was, even conceding that it may now be time to let young Officer Phillips try his hand out on the street. He would be assigned to go with two vice officers to a particularly shady part of town, and assured that he would not require his armored vest.
He would not, however, be shot to death by either of the two 14th precinct officers since the Mayor would call the precinct after reading the NY Post story and invite him to his office for a photo op and to pin a medal on him prior to his two fellow officers being able to shoot him.
He would be transferred to police headquarters where he would stay for the next six months, returning to the 14th precinct as second in command to assist with cleaning out dirty cops as part of a huge crackdown on NYC mob activity including bribery of police personnel and judges. This would be the start of an extremely successful career with the NY police department. 17 years, 7 months, and 3 days after joining the force, he would become the youngest New York Police Commissioner in history.
Jim Phillips was the most junior and currently least promote-able officer in the precinct. He had arrived from the Police Academy almost 6 months previously, and had yet to do any real police work. This was not his fault, he had the makings of an excellent police officer. This was due to the fact that a police academy instructor, an alumnus of the 14th precinct, had informed his captain that he was a ‘boy scout.’ In a precinct where virtually all the officers and several of the meter maids were to a greater or lesser degree on the take from the mob, he was quickly neutralized by keeping him busy with largely meaningless paperwork.
Over the last 5 months he had utilized his computer skills to make up databases that streamlined the handling of the largely meaningless paperwork, meaning he had even less to do. As a consequence he had received tacit permission (Yeah, whatever…..) from the Captain to come up with a precinct website. This helped with scheduling, provided notification of special social functions, and had an items for sale or trade area for use by precinct personnel. It also had an email address for comments to webmaster@14thprecinct.NYC.gov.
In 15 minutes Officer Phillips would check that email account and find an email to be forwarded to his Captain, confirming a telephone call reporting the torture and possible killing of two young women in a warehouse on dock 43. After watching the warehouse for 20 minutes and seeing no police activity, this was Radoslav’s final act before walking down to the pier and boarding the Liberian registered freighter to the Black Sea.
He was, perhaps, being petty, because in all fairness the Captain had less to do with the situation of Nila and Liz than Radoslav did himself, but he had always hated officious commissars on the take, and Radoslav wanted to leave a computer trail that would at the least prove embarrassing to the man, if not incriminating.
Officer Jim Phillips took the email immediately to his Captain when he read it, and was amazed at the hostile reaction it drew. He was informed that he was an idiot, that they couldn’t do anything without probable cause, and that an anonymous and untraceable email was NOT probable cause. Surprised at the hostility, he said that maybe he could track down the location of the sender. He was almost equally surprised at the sudden interest the Captain took in that process, hovering over his shoulder until he had tracked the address down through the Internet Service Provider to an internet café near the docks. At that point, he was instructed to go back to his largely meaningless paperwork while ‘real’ cops chased this down.
It would be four hours later that Officer Phillips' shift would end. Out of curiosity he would look at the dispatch log, and see that four squad cars had been dispatched to that internet café, apparently without any success at locating whoever had sent the message. He would be surprised to see that no dispatch was ever made to the warehouse on dock 43.
He would be troubled by this, and on his drive home would to 'accidently' drive by the warehouse. As he drove up to the front gate, the two bodies he saw would cause him to believe that he had probable cause to enter the premises. Not being entirely stupid, he would make an immediate request for backup…..from the dispatcher at the 15th precinct.
As they arrived, he would be discovering the bodies of the two men at the building entrance. After that things got fairly interesting.
Officer Phillips would be the hero of the NY Post article the next morning ....the man who had discovered the scene of an apparent mass murder, most likely mob vs mob violence. Fourteen men, twelve of them armed in violation of New York City and New York State weapons laws were ultimately found dead at the scene. Two members of the 14th precinct, one Lieutenant and one Sergeant were also found dead at the scene, the latter in what appeared to have been a recently used torture room. Although considerable blood was found, no bodies of personnel who had actually been subjected to torture would ever be found.
The bodies of the fourteen dead would be the subject of considerable discussion before the autopsy and toxicology tests were finished, but the puzzle as to just precisely how they had been killed would remain a continuing controversy between forensic pathologists for decades. The case would eventually be forgotten, but never really solved.
Discovered deeper in the warehouse by Officer Phillips and personnel of the 15th precinct was a shipping container that held 40 heavily sedated and restrained young women. Their testimony would eventually reveal that one Anthony Diglio Junior, one of the men found dead in the same room with the two police officers, had been the mastermind of the operation. His father, Anthony Diglio Senior would deny any knowledge of the dealings of his son and announce that he was about to leave on an extended vacation to see relatives of his wife in Sicily. Lacking any provable direct connection, he would be allowed to leave the country.
The next morning Officer Phillips would dread seeing his Captain, certain that he would face some hostility for calling in personnel from the 15th precinct for backup. He would be surprised at how gracious the Captain was, even conceding that it may now be time to let young Officer Phillips try his hand out on the street. He would be assigned to go with two vice officers to a particularly shady part of town, and assured that he would not require his armored vest.
He would not, however, be shot to death by either of the two 14th precinct officers since the Mayor would call the precinct after reading the NY Post story and invite him to his office for a photo op and to pin a medal on him prior to his two fellow officers being able to shoot him.
He would be transferred to police headquarters where he would stay for the next six months, returning to the 14th precinct as second in command to assist with cleaning out dirty cops as part of a huge crackdown on NYC mob activity including bribery of police personnel and judges. This would be the start of an extremely successful career with the NY police department. 17 years, 7 months, and 3 days after joining the force, he would become the youngest New York Police Commissioner in history.