Boston Blood: The first Frank McKenzie Thriller (4 page)

‘I beg to differ, but I won’t turn down a case for a jail cell.’ Frank says

‘Good because I need to get you down to the incident room.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘It’s Connor, He’s on the phone and he wants to talk to you’

Ten

Frank and the DA walk into the incident room where the sight of the chaos is all too familiar to them. Cops and detectives are gathered around a phone, staring at it like it was possessed. Truth is it was. It was possessed with the voice and soul of Americas most wanted man, Connor Chase.

The DA gives a cautious look to Frank before he picks up the phone, as if to say be careful what you agree on doing for this psycho this time. The swarm of officials around the phone make way for Frank as he walks over and grabs it. He raises the phone to his ear and coughs to clear his throat. The whole room goes quiet.

‘Ah, you’re here then’ Connor says

‘Yeah, what was so urgent that you had to call me? I’m sure you should be concentrating on getting yourself ready for being on the receiving end of the biggest man hunt in history.’

There is a pause on the other end of the line.

‘Well that may be true but me and you have unfinished business. The thing is, I need some more jobs doing, and I need them done today.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong Connor. I’m not doing any more jobs for you. It nearly got me sent down for life.’

‘Well I’m sure I’ll be able to convince you Frank. After all, most people only need a subtle nudge in the right direction. The thing is, when I nudge you, there isn’t going to be anything subtle about it.’

The phone goes dead and Frank slams the receiver down onto the table. Eddie walks up behind him and puts his hand on his shoulder for comfort.

‘He’s trying to mess with you, don’t let him get to you Frank.’ Eddie says.

‘I’m just worried about what he’s planning to do. He’s already done so much in one day, so many acts of pure evil that I doubt it could get any worse, but I know for sure that it can., and it will. Mark my words Eddie.’

Eddie pats Frank on the shoulder sympathetically and walks off.  Frank is left feeling helpless. Not for himself but for which ever poor soul Chase gets his hands on next.

Eleven

Frank had felt like this before, by now he was a pro. He knew how to mask his feelings when interviewing people. He knew that a slight hole in his tactics would be an invitation for a showdown. Well, in the interview room that is. This time however, he was masking something else. It was more of a side effect then a feeling. It was a side effect that Frank was all too familiar with, after getting high on Veratril for 2 years he knew how to “be himself” in front of people. The thing is, he didn’t know how to be “himself” at this moment in time.

He takes the needle out of his arm. A slight sucking sensation is felt when the needle pops out of his vein. Although it is the first time that Frank had felt this feeling, he sure as hell knew why people were hooked on their first spoonful. A certain euphoria was surrounding him as he got himself up from the floor in the bathroom. He felt dizzy, but for the first time in a long time, he felt calm. He knew that there was a tolerance built up to things the body consumes regularly, but he wandered if he would ever grow tolerant of this new sensation. It was a telling day, a day that would always be remembered by Frank. The day he realised that his edge was gone, and the only salvation he had to regain that edge, was being put away into a baggie that diabetics would usually carry around. Frank didn’t have diabetes though.

He embraced the euphoria for a few more moments until suddenly there was a knock on the door. He shook himself back into control. He took a deep breath in and exhaled, invigorating as heroin was, he doubted that his colleagues would embrace the idea of a smack head detective.
You got to do what you got to do
he thought to himself.

‘Yeah be one minute, Just whipping’ Frank shouted to the person on the other end of the door.

There was a slight amused laugh at the other end, but the knocking continued. Frank opened the door and saw a female detective at the entrance to the men’s bathroom. She smiled.

‘Excuse me sir, they are asking for you in the incident room. It’s urgent; I suggest you come down there with me…’ The women said, Looking Frank up and down. ‘Unless you’re busy’ she continued.

Frank smiled at her, whipping the sweat from his forehead, he realised what a mess he must look to the officer, so he cracks another smile at her.

‘Spicy food doesn’t agree with me Mam’ I’m truly sorry you had to witness this’ Frank says playfully.

The women smiles and walks off in front, Frank follows suite, hoping that everyone else buys the spicy food line.

Twelve

Turns out the people in the incident room were too wrapped up in what was on the TV then to take too much notice in Frank’s Appearance. Frank caught onto the Disturbing scenes on the TV and realised that he recognised the person talking on the box.

Connor chase was on the Telly giving a speech on what looked like a handheld camcorder. He was surrounded by militia like men with heavy weaponry, all of which who were staring into the screen. Their eyes were only visible because of the fact that they were wearing ski masks. All but one man, Connor was wearing no ski mask; his face was bare and proud as he ranted into the camera. The news headline flashing underneath him read:

“M.I.T building taken over by terrorists”

Frank watched and listened to what Chase was spewing out on Live TV. The profanity in his speech was being censored out by the news channel, which said at least to Frank that the message was pre-recorded.

‘I stand here before you today America, as a victim of the Free world’s Liberal ways, A world where information is exchanged for the almighty Dollar. A world where people are numbers and their true value is measured in equity. I stand here today as a man that will be branded as a terrorist, a serial killer, and a lunatic. But I stand here today, in front of my fellow people, people who are the same as me, people who work for a living, even people who are unlucky enough to have not found a job; I stand here today in front of my United States of America. I have transgressed, according to the laws of the land that is. I have killed my fellow man, but let it be known that those people who died are better off dead than witnessing one more day of Americas and the worlds ludicrous price on so called freedom. You may ask why I am on the TV and I’m here to answer that. I’m here to declare my war on America, a war that will divide the tyranny that this country so fondly embraces, and I’m here to teach them all a thing or two. My mission has already started, and on the hour every hour I will digress a little more information until 12 hours’ time, where the talking stops and the business begins.’ Connor says his voice remains stern through the TV.

Frank pulls himself together trying not to look out of the game. Eddie smith walks over to him with a scowl on his face. Frank braces himself for whatever is coming.

‘I can’t believe this shit Frank. How in the hell did Connor manage to get into the M.I.T building. I thought that M.I.T specialised in security, and a paranoid hick with a small army got in there?’ Eddie said, his scowl still embracing his face like a new found mask.

‘I don’t know sir. I’m sure this can be resolved. Is there any word on whether he has hostages?’

‘I’m pretty sure he has, I mean you don’t declare war on somebody without having an advantage, a bargaining chip that will make us play nice. The sort of upper hand that will stop us going in there and massacring his army.’

‘All bets are off then’ says Frank. Eddie looks at him as if to say yes, and he’s sorry for the inconvenience.

Thirteen

It’s been 50 minutes since Connor was plastered all over the news as the man to watch in America, as usual when a case like this pops up, the media did not help things with their incisive way of dramatizing an already dramatic enough situation. Frank was pondering that very fact while sitting down staring into his mug of black coffee in the canteen.

He had time to get a quick bite to eat before Connors next video, which he assumed would be in less than 10 minutes time. He looked at his watch, it was 2.50 PM. He thought to himself how long the day has been, even though it was barley done. After all there was still the whole night to keep him busy.

Nine minutes to go
he thought.             

There is not a whole lot a man thinks about when faced with these sorts of situations. Frank was thinking about how to escape the odds at hand, not how to overcome them. He was worried for his job security and couldn’t run the risk of getting found out. He didn’t want to be known as the guy that once had it all, a wife, a few kids and a promising career as a detective. He had already lost both his wife and children. She left him because he hadn’t left his work at work; he liked to bring it home with him, including all the pill popping that came with it. He needed this job. He needed to get Connor Chase and secure his future. Call it selfish but Frank didn’t care.

He looked down at his watch again.
Eight minutes to go.

Time was moving slow. He sipped on his coffee and looked around the canteen, his eyes getting lost in the emptiness of the room. He was the only one there. He thought that maybe people didn’t have the stomach to eat or drink anything, but he wasn’t any one. He knew that he had to keep focused on the case and to do that he needed to do to look after himself. That’s when the guilt set in. Frank knew he shouldn’t have taken that hit of heroin less than an hour ago. He regretted it, the feeling of not being in control was weighing heavy on him.

He thought that maybe that’s what made him who he was. His demons ever present nipping at his subconscious at every chance they had. He thought maybe that’s what fuelled Frank McKenzie to spur on to victory. He realised that it would consume him and destroy him, but he needed that edge that normal detective’s didn’t have.
Where there’s smoke there’s fire
and he needed as much heat as possible going into this thing. Then it hit him.

Fourteen

Frank made his way to the incident room where he planned on talking to the DA. When he got there from the short walk from the canteen, he was too late. The news was on air and a live feed of Connor Chase was playing on the TV. What Frank wanted to say had to wait, Business had just picked up.

Connor was standing in the same room as before. Only 2 guards stood next to him this time. The space that the small army took up in the previous video was now vacant. Frank could only dare to think why. The sound of a static microphone was heard on the TV, and then Connor Chase cleared his throat.

‘I am here again with the pressing issue of why I’m doing this. As I can imagine that’s what’s on the end of everybody’s lips. As you can probably tell I’m not shy on showing my face. Be that as it may, my fellow helpers in this revolution are. They can wear their masks because I’m the one that everybody is interested in. Don’t get me wrong here, without my men I could not do this. It took 5 years of planning and the movement is finally underway. I have with me 45 men that are heavily armed. They shall remain armed until the last minute and they are willing to lay their lives down on the line. Our cause is a noble one. For every revolution there is a face behind it. Believe me when I tell you I am that face. That is the reason why mine is not covered. The ski masks on my men’s faces are symbols of what we want to achieve. Every man on earth has the god given right of being anonymous, a right that has been taken away through the advent of census collecting and information harvesting. I’m here today to let the US government know that this will stop and it will stop today! I have in my possession 193 hostages. They all work here and were easy pickings when we took this building by force. The US government values its citizens. And on the open market I know that if I had a document that contained information regarding 193 people then I would be a rich man. I’m not after money and as that will sure come as a shock to you; I am just as serious as someone driven by greed. I want change to take effect, I want the 28
amendment. It shall be a law in which every person has the right to their privacy at any means necessary. Just like I have the right to protect my home from invasion by force, my privacy and that of my fellow Americans will be protected my international laws. If you don’t have privacy then what have you got? If you don’t comply with my demands then I shall kill all the hostages. I’m going all in; I expect nothing less from the government. But please don’t waste my time by trying to be heroes. It’s as simple as this:
YOU HAVE 7 HOURS TO MAKE THE AMENDMENT TAKE EFFECT. IF YOU DO NOT COMPLY, IT’S GAME OVER FOR THE HOSTAGES.
’

The TV screen goes blank for a few seconds then it cuts back to the news station’s anchor man. Frank looks on at the TV screen in shock. He now knows that Connor Chase isn’t just some paranoid killer. The man Frank is after is the spearhead of a group of home grown militia. A group that by themselves prove a threat, but with the news coverage stretching far and wide, Frank fears that this group could cause a tidal wave of support from right winged nationalists who eat up his propaganda.

‘This is bad.’ He says to himself.

Fifteen

Frank is sat down in the temporary office of the DA at the central crime unit’s incident room. They call it an incident room, but it’s more like an incident castle. The building is basically an old fort like structure that has more history then the Germans.

Looking across from Frank was DA Eddie Smith. Eddie has a scornful smile on his face, accompanied by a light chuckle.

‘This ass hole is going to fuck with my patience. He surely can’t think that Washington is going to allow for this so called 28
amendment?’ asks Eddie. 

Frank nods in agreement and doesn’t answer the DA. He knows a rhetorical question when he hears one. Frank knows that the DA just wants to blow off steam, so he lets him babble on some more. Frank’s not paying attention to what Eddie is saying anyway. He has too much on his mind, preferably how he is going to deal with Chase. Suddenly Frank’s trail of thought is thrown out of transit.