Guardian Program Ch. 38

Note: Tags are for the book, not individual chapters.

Guardian Program Ch. 38

A novel by R.C.PeterGabriel, all rights reserved.

Officer Connelly, being intimately familiar with this section of Highway, looked to her captor and asked, "We have less than five miles to the junction. Have you decided?"

"Charge it," he replied, while looking straight ahead, but turned to her as he continued. "Just a reminder, if you don't get us to the plane, I'll blow your head wide open! Your neck will look just like your arm!"

"I remember just fine," she stated. "Do you remember what I said about the lights?"

"Yes, they should see our lights before we see them. The moment I see them, I'll turn our lights off for five seconds. Then I'll turn both the siren and the lights on, letting them know they should yield to us. Hopefully, they will, but if not, you're going to hit the shoulder and try to go around. At that point, I'll decide whether or not you're dead."

Connelly asked once more if he was sure that charging the barricade was the way he wanted to proceed, and received a determined nod in response.

She pressed the accelerator to the floor. The speedometer leaned farther to the right, pushing past one-hundred thirty, one-hundred forty, and strained to reach past one-hundred-fifty miles an hour. The gage came to a stop at one-hundred fifty-two miles an hour, everything the cruiser had to give. The landscape was a blur. It took every ounce of concentration she had to hold the car steady.

Feeling as if adrenalin was the only element in her blood, she crested the last rise before spotting four vehicles blocking the road. Three SUVs and one cruiser, all with Royal Canadian Mounted Police emblems on the doors and their emergency lights flashing.

In the back of her mind, she heard the sirens kick on, and the world seemed to warp, stretching out an incredibly long distance. Time seemed to stand still. Her hearing seemed to have turned itself off to everything except the sound of her own breathing and thundering heart. Her eyesight became impossibly sharp. She saw two more Mounties blocking access from Highway 77, with three civilian vehicles waiting behind them, not knowing why or that they were about to witness death. She could see past the blockade to another cruiser, holding traffic a mile beyond.

She looked at the roadblock and saw how two of the SUVs were blocking the shoulders, while one SUV and a cruiser blocked part of each lane in her path. She knew they were not going to move because she could see the vehicles were devoid of drivers. She realized many of the officers standing behind the barricade were in tactical gear that she didn't recognize and that two men, one Mountie and one not, had rifles aimed at her!

Her life passed before her eyes in its entirety. Her joys, her pains, her laughter, the feelings of accomplishment when she wrote her name for the first time, her first kiss, and her high school friends. Becoming a constable, and meeting her husband for the first time. How all of her decisions had come together to allow her the privilege of giving birth to her three beautiful children.

She felt herself being wrapped in a warm embrace of love and comfort. She knew without a doubt that God was with her. She no longer feared death. She was at peace.

Then she blinked.

Time returned. The cruiser shot forward the distance it would have covered under normal time. Being two miles closer to the barricade, she realized that they'd given her a space to pass between the back of the SUV and the nose of the cruiser. She aimed for the gap, as the muzzle flashes from two rifles burned into her consciousness. She somehow counted three flashes from one rifle set for a three-round burst, and one from the other.

Turning her head, she saw the last of four holes appear in the windshield, then continuing her turn, she saw that her captor would no longer hold sway over her life. The coroner would later count three entry wounds. Two in Bettany's head, and one in his neck.

Returning her eyes to the road all she had time to do was pull her foot from the accelerator and jerk the wheel to the right. She clipped her side mirror on the back of the SUV.

Sound chose that moment to return as the mirror slammed into the side window with an explosion of glass. She screamed and fought for control of the dangerously skidding car.

Just over a hundred yards later, the car came to a stop in the center of the road, its nose aimed slightly to the wrong side.

Constable Connelly calmly opened her door and without looking, told Bettany to go into the light. She exited and left the door open as she started to walk back the way she had come. She only made it seven steps. "Too tired," she whispered to herself. "I'll wait here." With that she lowered herself to the road and laying herself out near the center striping, she closed her eyes.

The world seemed to spin in slow circles as she waited. It didn't take long for help to arrive, maybe fifteen seconds. Then someone was checking the pulse in her neck and a second later several people were surrounding her, all sounding concerned.

She could hear a heavy vehicle pull to a stop nearby, as someone spoke to her. "Officer Connelly, can you hear me? ... I need you to open your eyes."

People were cutting the straps on her ballistic vest and she felt the pinch of a needle near her brachial artery. She raised her eyebrows and realized her eyes felt heavy. Putting a little extra effort into the task, her eyes fluttered open a few seconds later.

"AAAHHHhhouch!" she cried out, as someone removed the cuff from her stump. She looked up at the growing crowd of Mounties and tactically clad individuals then closed her eyes again. "No pain meds. Please, I don't want to fall asleep before I see my husband and children!"

Rolling her head slightly to the side, she opened her eyes again just long enough to see what they were doing to her stump and look at the insignia on their uniforms. A suspension bridge was embroidered over the words Bridge Security, and the name Michael DeLuca. DeLuca was carefully wrapping her stump in a gauze bandage and wetting it down with some kind of clear liquid. She hissed through the pain from her arm, as someone put an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. She hissed again, as a rubber tourniquet was placed around the proximal edge of the gauze.

"Connelly, you don't need to worry," said the man on the other side of her. "I'm Dr. Ben Pierce, the team's medic. We're not going to let you die. There is no need to endure the pain. Let me at least give you something to take the edge off." He paused a few moments while she turned to him and reopened her eyes.

She studied his face, assessing him. When he smiled and nodded, she gave a slight nod in response. "Good, this will also help keep some of your blood inside where it belongs. Your blood pressure and heart rate will drop a little as your body is relieved of some of its stressors." Using a very slow push, he administered a milligram of morphine.

"Shepherd, how are we looking on shot? And read me her vitals. I can see that she's in mild shock but seems to be compensating well, I need to know how long we have until she starts to crash. We have a strong patient on our hands, but no one is immortal."

"Bettany must have self-loaded, the shot is varied in size, some buck and some bird. She has six in her hip and leg, with five in her left shoulder."

Connelly's eyes widened as she looked for the face of who had spoken. He wasn't looking at her, he was looking at the screen of a phone. "No large vessels compromised, other than in her lower right arm that is. Her left clavicle is fractured. I'm surprised she could drive at all, between that and the massive contusion on her entire upper left torso. She's lost approximately 1,242ml of o-positive blood. BP 130/112, strong pulse, sinus tachycardia at 156, shallow respirations at 40 per minute, O2 sats at 93%, all brain functions normal, other vital organs all normal.

"Oh, and one more thing." Shepherd looked into her eyes for the first time and opened his mouth to speak, but glanced around at all the others and showed his phone to Dr. Pierce instead.

Reading the highlighted entry, Dr. Pierce asked, "Okay, how far to the hospital, twenty-five minutes?"

"Fifteen, if you don't mind the fast corners, twenty, maybe twenty-two for the luxury ride," stated the paramedic who was standing by with a gurney.

"Let's get her loaded up. Gently people, watch the shoulder, on three." Six sets of hands followed the doctor's direction, lifting Constable Connelly onto the gurney. Leaning close to the paramedic, he whispered. "Give her the fast corners, but no siren. I'll have some Mounties clear the way. All the information I have will be sent to the hospital, and I'll let them know what to expect, and have blood standing by. Did you hear all the vitals?"

"Yes, but how did you get them?" asked the paramedic.

"Not important at the moment, but understand that they're accurate. Just so you know, and she probably doesn't realize it yet but she's five days pregnant.

Don't tell her, we don't want her to stress any more than she already is.

Turning back to Constable Connelly, he continued. "You're in good hands Officer. I'll see you at the hospital as soon as you wake up from surgery."

"Aren't you coming with me?" she asked.

"I'm obligated to my unit's mission at the moment. You're banged up to be sure, but you're strong and you'll be fine. I'll see you in a few hours," replied Dr. Pierce.

Connelly watched as the doctor and the rest of the Bridge Security members jogged off just before the door closed on the ambulance.

Moments later she could hear several Mounty vehicles start off in the direction of town with their sirens going. Maybe ten seconds later the ambulance was also on the move, but without the siren. She listened to the sound of the engine and knew they were accelerating hard. She'd been a Mounty long enough to know the only reason for what was happening, was that no one wanted her to know how urgent it was for her to get to the hospital.

She closed her eyes, seeking the peace she felt only minutes before.

********************

Jessie watched Bill finish pulling his pants off and could see that he was already hard. "Faster Bill, get the shorts off. I want to fuck now!"

Bill quickly dropped his shorts. He mistook Jessie's smirk and narrowed eyes for an expression of wanton heat and decided to tease her a little. After all, his pleasure was the only thing he cared about.

Stroking himself slowly, he took only a single step closer to his awaiting slut, and smiled as she used one foot to try to pull him closer.

"You really are hot for it, aren't you Jessie?"

"You have no idea how bad I want this," she responded. "Please, just one step closer. I'll do the work. Just hold yourself up so I can ride you. Please."

Smiling and holding his shaft at an angle he hoped would allow Jessie to impale herself, he took the next step toward her and looked into her eyes. Only realizing too late that her expression had shifted from 'I want to fuck you' to 'You're fucked!'

Jessie hooked both of her ankles around the back of his knees and pulled at the same time she slammed her forehead into the bridge of his nose, shattering cartilage with an audible crunching noise.

Bill's shout of surprise and pain was very short-lived as his feet were yanked from under him, and the back of his skull made contact with the floor a half second later.

Debra called her husband's name and started to rise as Jessie hauled on the bonds holding her wrists. She swung her legs up and over the ceiling beam, took the weight off her wrists, and in under a moment unhooked herself from the carabiner.

With only a glance at Bill's stunned, supine form, she took aim and dropped from the ceiling. She aimed for the spot two inches below the floor under Bill's throat and drove her heel into it with all the practiced force she could muster. She succeeded in not only crushing his thyroid cartilage and his trachea but also shattering the fourth and fifth cervical vertebra, severing his spinal cord.

Bill's death was instantaneous.

Debra shouted again, as Jessie smoothly rolled away from Bill's inert form, and stood to assess her next target. Debra had recovered quickly and was finishing her rush to get behind Toni, after grabbing a gun from the table.

Jessie calmly reached over to the dresser and retrieved the knife Bill had used to threaten her with, then quickly cut through her bonds.

"Your little plan to play with us for months before killing us or selling us isn't going to happen, Debra. Why are you doing this anyway?"

"Well it would seem that my plans have changed, but only slightly," Debra noted with a sigh. Only her voice sounded nothing like her. She no longer had the slightest trace of an English accent, sounding instead like she had been born and raised in New Jersey.

"Thanks for that Jessie. Since you've managed to kill my husband, I don't need that stupid accent anymore, and I won't have to kill him myself. I had always wondered if I would develop real feelings for him. I guess the answer was no.

"As far as the other part, about playing with you for months ... hmmm ... I guess I can do without that part. That was mostly for Bill's enjoyment. Although, knowing Robert would have the image of his two favorite women whoring themselves before he died was going to be a plus for me.

"The rest of it ... you know the part where I kill you or sell you ... that part, I'm afraid still stands. After all, I'm the one with the gun. Which of those I do, depends on you."

Toni stood in shocked silence. Her world had flipped upside down in minutes. She thought she and Jessie were going to be planning Robert's birthday celebration, only to find herself kidnapped, tied up, and drugged. She had seen Jessie kill Bill and free herself in a few short seconds, only to have someone she thought was her best friend, hold a gun to her head and tell her she might die! The room started spinning, then mercifully she fainted dead away.

"Okay, I'm glad you're not upset about Bill, but that doesn't explain why you feel it necessary to do any of this. I mean it must have taken you a long time to plan. You would've had to have accomplices. Several probably. The fact that we're somewhere in the northern Rocky Mountains, I'm guessing near the border to the Northern Territories, tells me this isn't just some crime of opportunity."

Debra smiled. "I'm impressed. How did you guess where we were."

"Shape and type of rock, along with the sun's angle. It isn't as if I don't look at the Rockies every day."

"I'm glad you're smart enough to realize the odds of escaping, considering it's a four-hour drive to the nearest town. Now drop the knife, and kick it under the dresser."

Jessi chuckled but did as she was told. "The odds of my escaping are almost one hundred percent. Robert is going to rescue us very shortly. The only reason I killed Bill, was because now the sniper that's pointing their gun at you this very moment only has one shot to make. Whereas before, they may have missed the second shot, because they'd be forced to rush. But, forgetting our escape for the moment, why ... are ... you ... doing ... this?"

"I know for a fact, Robert is in Africa, so just forget about a rescue, and reach into the top drawer of the dresser you kicked the knife under. Next, pull out the leather collar and buckle it around your pretty little neck. If you do it fast enough, I won't hurt Toni."

"You're wrong Debra," Jessie said calmly. "Robert isn't in Africa, he's outside the cabin at this very moment."

*************************

"No, you're both wrong," I stated while stepping through the front door. "I'm inside the cabin at this very moment." My gun pointed steadily at Debra's head.

Debra screamed shrilly. When she finally stopped she looked frightened and unsure of herself for the first time. "How the FUCK!?!" she shouted while ducking a little farther behind Toni. "You're not real!" she declared, trying to deny the truth of the situation, and re-aimed her gun at me. "This can't be happening, so therefore, pointing the gun at you is pointless. I must have missed my pill. Yes ... that's it. I missed my pill and none of this is real. Bill is asleep and tomorrow I get my money and then I kill you two, and then I kill the real Robert."

"I assure you that I'm very real Debra, or should I call you Laura? Anyway, I need to warn you that if you attempt to use that gun you will die."

Jessie sighed, "Dad, can't you just use protocol six-six-five? If Hal can kill her for trying to use the gun, why risk it?"

"Not enough satellites in position," I explained. "I didn't think Canada was a priority, after all, nothing truly big ever happens here. Everyone is so polite and all. Of course, a couple of Americans cross the border and all Hell breaks loose."

Debra was looking back and forth between Jessie and me and getting whiter by the second. "You can see him too?" she asked Jessie.

"Of course, I can. You might want to listen to him, by the way," Jessie responded.

Pushing her gun into the notch behind Toni's ear, Debra demanded. "Drop the gun, Robert! You can't hit me without hitting your wife first. And you, Jessie, back up! Get over by Robert!"

I gave a slight nod and watched in my periphery as Jessie followed Debra's order. I slowly lowered my gun to the floor and stood back up.

"I'll be happy to cooperate with you, Laura. Just remember what I said about the gun"

"Shut up about the gun! And how do you know my name?" Debra shouted with a panicked voice.

I held my response long enough for Jessie to move behind me. "I'll be happy to tell you all about it if you explain why you're doing this."

Because you killed my father! He was all I had left after my mother was killed. I was raised by my grandfather the pedophile. I was terrified of him! He made me watch, as he killed my mother's bodyguards for failing him! My life was hell because of you!"

"Laura, you're one year younger than me." I pointed out, attempting to reason with her. "I was nine when your mother died, and your father didn't die until a few short minutes ago."

"Bridge Security tortured and killed him!" Debra screamed. "You own it! You're responsible for his death! I want you to suffer as much as I have! I'm going to destroy everything that you are, and when I think you've suffered enough, I'll kill you the same way Bridge Security killed my father!"

"Okay, at least we know what has motivated you. An obsession built around an erroneous assumption on your part. I find it extremely difficult to believe that my predecessor sought to kill anyone, especially not the son-in-law of Giacomo Magliozzi."

Debra's mouth dropped open for a brief moment, before asking with widened eyes. "How do you know my grandfather's name?"

"I know a lot about you Laura, and I'm learning more all the time." I motioned to the TV. "How about I start showing you some of the things I know?

"Hal, display my office in Poison." I was grateful for the large screen and its position, allowing it to be seen anywhere in the room. Debra sucked in a startled breath as she watched the TV come on all by itself with my office displayed.

"Would everyone identify yourselves for Mrs. Clemons, please?"

About two minutes later, Debra had seen the IDs of everyone except Sam and stood shaking her head in disbelief.

"You see Laura, the US government is working with Bridge Security. Even if you manage to kill all three of us, they won't ever stop hunting you.

"Sam, find out what you can about the man Laura thought was her father."

Debra interrupted. "What do you mean, who I thought was my father?"