Hybrid - Forced Vengeance (44 page)

BOOK: Hybrid - Forced Vengeance
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“Hell hath no fury like that of a scorned woman,” Margaret Pendelton recited as she turned and walked back to her companion.

“C’mon” she whispered to Brianna, “You’ve got to be up early and at your father’s before six.”

Brianna Knight nodded as she joined her mother. The two women walked in silence toward the waiting limousine at the other end of the harbor.

“Our secret,” Margaret whispered to her daughter.

“Our secret,” Brianna replied in a shaken voice.

Brianna looked back at her mother as they made their way back home, “Are we just going to leave him there?”

Margaret shook her head, “No, they’ll call an ambulance shortly – part of the service. Your stepfather’s made use of these types of services before, though I doubt he’d ever been on the beating side until tonight. I want him alive so I can soak him in court for alimony. I’ve only begun with my dear husband; I have a lifetime to pay him back for what he’s done to us and I intend to make the most of it.”

“Here’s to your long and prosperous life.” Brianna added as she toasted her mother with a bottle of Perrier.

Day 21, 04:40

The silver warrior moved through the treetops like a phantom and touched down at the outskirts of the Rolling Hills Cemetery. The hybrid walked the quarter mile to the headstone that belonged to his wife. He had taken her here when they first returned because Shanda had insisted on seeing the marker. She hadn’t been prepared for the overwhelming emotions as she saw her name and date of death on the headstone.

Shanda broke down as she relived the horrors of the past months. He held her tightly as she purged the grief from her body. Ross had delighted in taunting her, but now he faced the ultimate judge.

The monument disturbed his wife; it wasn’t a tribute to her life, only a reminder of the terrible wrongs that had been done to her and her child. Erik would get some sense of closure by destroying it. He focused his will and concentrated; his right forearm glowed with intense heat and energy. He gestured toward the granite slab and the blue-white energy flew from his arm and engulfed the marker. The red polished stone withered and crumbled, leaving only the base stone and cement foundation behind. Erik ripped the 1,600 pound base stone from the ground and carried it into the nearby woods. There he placed it on the ground and with one blow smashed it to rubble.

He looked down at the shattered fragments and picked up two of the bigger pieces in his silver hands. Slowly and methodically he squeezed both of them into powder and let the dust fall between his fingers.

The physical act of destruction allowed him his own personal sense of closure. Shanda was alive and they had a child together. He had been given a new lease on life and a fresh beginning. There would be no more mistakes and no more long missions. The price of his absences at the beginning of his marriage had been too great a price to pay for their ‘normal’ life.

The threat against his family had been eliminated. The threat against Monique LaSalle had been eliminated and now it was time to take a well-earned vacation and bond with both his children and his bride.

Erik Knight, father, husband, CIA/OSA agent, detective and hybrid warrior looked up at the fading stars with comfort, knowing that there were friends out in the heavens. He looked back toward Hopedale with the knowledge that his entire world was right here in this small Middlesex suburb, barely a blip on a map. He also realized that he wouldn’t want it any other way.

He leapt fifty feet into a nearby oak tree and began the trip home. If he moved quickly enough he could still get a few minutes of rest in Shanda’s arms.

DAY 21 10:45 a.m.

Eunice Kim sat at her desk studying the by line for her latest story while she nursed her morning coffee.

“Eunice” a voice called. “There’s a package here for you.”

The reporter walked over to the mailroom. She took the large envelope from the clerk and brought the package back to her desk.

“What do we have here?” she whispered.

The reporter opened the envelope affixed to the box and withdrew a handwritten letter.

Eunice,

I don’t have the words to thank you for helping me find Shanda and EJ. I hope you’ll accept this as a small token of my appreciation. The enclosed documents make for some interesting reading and only tell a small part of a much bigger story. I’ll be back in six weeks and we can go over the particulars together. I know you’ll wait before you go to press until we’ve talked. These documents should give you something to do in my absence.

Enjoy.

Erik

Eunice Kim quickly glanced through the materials. As she did her eyes popped out of her head and her jaw dropped.

“Yeeehaaah!” she shouted for joy. “Pulitzer prize here I come.”

Author’s Biography

Greg Ballan is a graduate of Northeastern University holding Bachelor’s degrees in Marketing and Management. He lives in Hopedale with his patient, tolerant and sometimes bewildered wife, Teresa and his three children; Tom, Rachel and Christie. Greg enjoys several outdoor activities such as hiking, archery and shooting. When he’s not working his full time job as a Financial Analyst or getting lost in some unknown woodlands, he’s crunched over his laptop putting his warped imagination into words or penning a column about politics, hunting humor or his latest tale about avoiding house work and yard work.

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