Flutter (31 page)

Adonis looked at the picture and said, “This was 43’s target,” referring to Abigail as
Flutter 43.

“Iris Campbell. Mission failed years ago. 43 has not been the same since that day, I can’t trust her to follow through with this elimination after what happened last time. I would prefer if we left tonight. We think she will make a move in a couple days and I don’t want to lose her again. Can you be ready in an hour?”

“Certainly, sir.” Adonis placed the photos and files on the table.

They mumbled a few other words that didn’t matter to Abigail. She rushed around her apartment gearing up. Her heart pounded against the back of her chest. Her hands were shaking. She had to calm herself down. Abigail shut everything down and disguised her surveillance with a few switches and buttons on a controller. Montreal was approximately four hours away. If she left now, she could get there before they did.
How did they find her?
She didn’t know the answer to that question at the time, but she would sort it out later. She put on an all black combat outfit with a black vest. She packed a back pack and pulled out a sack of money.

She knew Dewey had cameras in the halls and lobby, so she slipped through a trap door she had constructed in the closet and crawled through the vents to the roof. She hopped across to the next building and descended down the fire escape. She ran four blocks to a storage facility where she stored a black Hayabusa. She jumped on, clicked the starter on the key, and sped off. She had a 45 minute lead.

Abigail easily crossed the border using an alias ID card and continued into Montreal where she arrived at the motel where Iris had stayed for the past month. She had warned Iris about slipping up. She wasn’t sure what happened, but there was plenty of time to find out. Now was not the time.

It was 3:00 in the morning. The
Ezekiels
were on the way. Abigail slipped into a side door of the motel. She used a tracker that she had given Iris and located her on the second floor in room 222. Abigail knocked on the door. Iris was stunned and pulled out a gun from her bag. She looked out the window. Abigail knocked again. Iris came to the door. “Who is it?” Abigail did not answer, but knocked again. She stood off to the side so Iris couldn’t see her. “I said who is it?” Iris cocked back the gun. 

Abigail said, “Pizza. You ordered Pizza!”

Iris swung open the door only to receive a chemical mist sprayed in her face which knocked her out cold. Abigail rushed through the room and packed Iris’ bags, slumped Iris over her shoulders, carried her down the stairs and slipped out the side door. She put Iris over her back, strapped Iris to her and sped off just as Adonis and another Ezekiel arrived in the lobby. Abigail knew she was in for trouble if she were to be caught, but she didn’t care. All she could think about was how Iris saved her from dehydration even though she had planned to kill Iris.
Compassion.
A new emotion was also added to the list.
Love.
It was now Abigail’s weakness. Ezekiels were not trained to deal with this. The idea of Love was eradicated and replaced with Duty.

Abigail thought about her panic level that night. It’s different when you are concerned for a person you love. A person whom you know is helpless. She totally understood what Roger was dealing with in his head.
Love.
How oppressive it can be to love someone. He was crippled from the sickening feeling of having no control over the possibility of losing a loved one. 

Roger and Abigail pulled up to the house. Everything looked normal. He was still confused, frustrated and angry. He parked the truck directly across the street. They could see a television flickering in through the window. Roger let out a sigh of relief, but Abigail was not fully convinced. They exited the car. Right before they crossed the street. Abigail put up her arm to stop Roger from going farther. She began to breathe heavily.

This shocked Roger so he asked, “What’s going on, Elvis?”

A mist rose up from the crown of her head. She stretched out her body and inhaled. Her muscles flexed, her CANINEs extended slightly, and her eyes turned blue. She took out her knife.

Earlier that afternoon, Larry had received a phone call on his spare prepaid cell phone which he carried around for more “private” calls. He didn’t want to take the call on the floor, so he hurried into the kitchen. Unfortunately he missed the call, but the person left a message. He went into the back corner of the kitchen to hear better. It was the voice of a man.

“Good afternoon. My name is Jordan Levy calling from the New York Department of Child Services. I’m sorry it’s late, but we’ve been swamped with numerous phone calls coming in today. I was responding to your missing persons report on Abigail Paige. I would like to speak with you. You may be unaware, but this is a very sensitive case that will require your discreet assistance. Please give me a call on my private line.” The man left his contact number and hung up. Larry scribed the number on a piece of paper and placed it in his pocket. He had taken the ad down when Frankie asked him to, but someone must have seen it before it came down. 

Larry called the number and the man answered. He had an old raspy voice and cleared it often. He told Larry that he was in the Boston area following up with another case and said that he would like to meet with Larry as soon as possible. Larry was ecstatic. Finally, he would get answers which would unlock the mystery of this
Bitch Abigail!
He couldn’t wait. Larry told the man to meet him at a diner that was located 10 blocks from his house. They agreed to meet in an hour.

He walked back onto the restaurant floor where Frankie was serving a few guests. 

“Hey, Frank. Something came up. I got an important call and have to run out for a minute,” he prayed Frankie didn’t ask too many questions, and Frankie didn’t. His mind was too busy thinking about Abigail and Roger upstairs.

“Are you coming back?” Frankie asked.

“Yeah. Give me about an hour or two.” With that, Larry grabbed his things and rushed out the door. 

Larry ran home and grabbed his research. The one thing he promised himself was that he wouldn’t let Levy know anything about Frankie’s Pub or Frankie’s relationship with Abigail or that she worked there with him. He knew Frankie would be upset with him if he knew Larry led them directly to Abigail, so his plan was to tell Levy that Abigail recently disappeared and let Levy figure things out from there. He mainly wanted to get more information about Abigail.
But why should we be this discreet? Is she wanted? Is she a runaway? Is she an escaped convict?
Larry’s curiosity took captive his senses. Everything was shady about this meeting, but he put his common sense aside for the sake of answers.

Larry wasn’t totally foolish. He used his secondary prepaid phone for the contact number to his advertisement. He regularly cleared it and never kept contact information or stored texts or images or recent calls. He never told the man his real name. He used an alias that he had used in the past, complete with a fake ID and bogus credit cards. His name for the night was Talbert Sullivan. He walked the ten blocks from his apartment to the diner where they had arranged to meet. When he reached the diner, he saw a black Escalade parked with a man standing outside of it. By the way Larry looked at him, Levy could tell Larry was the man he was waiting for. 

Larry got closer and could see Levy’s face clearly. Unknown to Larry, Levy was really Mr. Jason Dewey. He said, “Are you Talbert?”

Larry stretched out his hand and said, “Yes I am. Levy?”

Dewey said, “Yes you can call me that if you like.” They shook hands. “How about we take this conversation into the car? We will need privacy. It’s a sensitive matter.”

Larry eagerly hopped into the car. Saul and Ben were in the front seat. Ben was behind the wheel. Once Larry got into the car he knew something wasn’t right with the situation and wanted to get out of the car, but felt that opportunity had passed. Dewey lit a cigar. Ben pulled the car out of the parking lot. Dewey didn’t say anything for a few minutes. He wanted to make Larry as uncomfortable as possible. Dewey finally spoke and said, “Talbert. I see you have done some research. How do you know my Abigail?”

Larry already had a story prepared, “I met her one day at the Supercoin Laundromat on Winchester Street. She was hungry and cold, so I gave her some money, clothes and some food. I went there regularly to check up on her and one day she took off. I put up the ad to try and find her.”

“How did you know to post the ads in New York?” Dewey asked.

“She was reluctant but eventually she came around. We talked a few times. She couldn’t remember much about her past but she had an ID so she let me borrow it to look her up.” Larry hoped Levy wouldn’t ask too many questions, but he knew by the questioning that Levy was not convinced of his lie. He decided to switch gears and do the questioning. Besides, he wanted to know what the hell was going on. That was his main purpose. “What’s the deal with her? Was she a runaway? Escaped convict? Who is she?”

Levy said, “Oh, Mr. Sullivan it’s very complicated and classified, so how about you cut the shit and tell me what you really know?”

Larry knew then that Frankie was right.
Leave it alone!
He would say. And that is all Larry could here in his head. “I’m not sure what you mean.” Larry said in an unconvincing manner. It was true that Larry didn’t know much, but he knew a lot more than this story about an occasional rendezvous at a laundromat. 

“I see you have done some digging. And what did you find out?” Dewey said teasingly as the smoke from his cigar filled the truck. Larry didn’t answer. “Well, since you cannot seem to put things together, let me tell you.” He soaked in every syllable; every word and punctuation mark was clear in what would be the last paragraph he’d ever hear in his life. “My name is not Levy. As I am sure your name is not Sullivan, but that matters not. You are more irrelevant than I hoped and not even worth torturing. I will take your materials and kill you. But before I do, listen carefully. Your Abigail Paige is a creature like none other, similar to my sons here.” He referred to Ben and Saul. They smirked. “Only, Abigail is a unique creature. She was carefully crafted under the auspices of myself and a few other geniuses in a fashion you wouldn’t understand. But if you must know, she is a killer ordained by... well, me. You could say that I am her father.” 

Dewey continued, “You are very foolish. I don’t sense concern for Abigail in you. I sense a rage, a discontent. She sickens you. Am I correct?” Mr. Dewey smiled. He knew he was right. “Oh yes. So now I wonder what she has done to you.”

“What has she done to you!?” Larry yelled out. Larry knew these would be the last words he would ever hear. 

“Disobedience. Lying. Treason. All worthy of elimination. But it matters not. And you led me to her. I know she is here. But where exactly? Where is my disobedient little daughter?”

“I truly do not know.” Larry wasn’t lying. Abigail was all over the place.

“And if you did know, you wouldn’t tell me anyway, would you?” Dewey asked.

Larry shook his head. Dewey said, “You would have been better off leaving things alone, my friend.” The car slowed in a dark place. Larry had no weapons, no help. He wasn’t the fighter Frankie was. He couldn’t even try. It was hopeless. They are killers! He didn’t have a chance in hell. Mr. Dewey took the materials away from Larry. Ben and Saul dragged him out of the car and shot him in the head. Each of them delivering fatal wounds to the skull. They left Larry lifeless on the side of the road and pulled off. 

Dewey made a phone call. “How are things looking?”

A black Ezekiel named Adonis with green eyes and a low haircut answered, “We are walking to get him now.

The cool air outside had changed and the wind picked up as heavy dark clouds made an appearance over the tree enveloped Victorian home. Dr. Paltee was in his house having tea in front of his fireplace, reading a book. Suddenly he glanced over and saw on a surveillance screen on the table a dark figure walking slowly up the cobblestone driveway. A few weeks earlier, he had installed hidden cameras at the entrance of his driveway and around the home. He stopped and watched, and then he saw another figure walking behind the other.
Ezekiels!
He dropped the tea on the table and ran into his basement. He grabbed a bag that was pre–packed and went back up to the main level. For one reason or another Dr. Paltee knew this day was coming.
If Abigail could find me, they will be soon behind.
Since that day he had prepared an exit plan. He had given Abigail all he had left of his research on Project Flutter and Gray Scale. He took a few more books and tossed them into the fireplace. They began to burn. He rushed around the house and packed a few more things into a second bag. He grabbed a few books and tossed them into a suitcase. Just before he left, he gave his house one last look. He closed the door. 

He looked around but didn’t see them. His older body struggled to pick up the heavy bags. His car was only a few steps away. He quickly shuffled over to the car and opened the back door. He threw the first bag into the back of the car. He stopped. He heard something. He looked around. He picked up the second bag and tossed it onto the back seat. He closed the door. He stopped again. He heard something again. He saw something coming quickly in the distance. Just before they reached him, he smiled and pressed a button on a black device he had pulled from his pocket. There was a light series of four beeps and his house exploded. 

They were all thrown to the ground. Paltee’s body was weakened by the blast. He momentarily lost his bearings and hearing. His eyes were out of focus. The explosion only knocked the two dark figures off their feet for a few moments. He made an attempt to make one last phone call, but he was too late. He didn’t get a chance to press SEND. The two mysterious men approached Paltee, then jumped on his body and immediately ripped him to pieces. The pain was agonizing but his screams only lasted for a moment. The two Ezekiels checked Paltee’s belongings, grabbed the two bags from his car and found his phone dangling from his hand. They searched through the phone and immediately knew the next target. They walked back down the cobblestone road and faded away into the darkness. Suddenly two red lights of a car appeared in the darkness. There was the sound of opening and then closing car doors.