"The Golden Calf Obligation" - Chapter 45

[seymoure]

No, Mr. Bond, I Expect You to Die!

 

“When you're passionate about something, you want it to be all it can be. But in the endgame of life, I fundamentally believe the key to happiness is letting go of that idea of perfection.”

-Debra Messing

 

His laughter gave me goose bumps.

My last failsafe to stop this madness had been circumvented.

My hope was failing.

Now I really was sorry that we had given up our guns. Some of us might have gotten away after a gun battle. But now…where were we?

This is going to be a real case of juggling on the fly. But, damn it, I wasn’t going to let this lunatic beat us and kill all those people.

“What do you want to know from me?” I challenged.

“Well, we know about the CDC and the FBI because we blocked that, but we need to know if you have passed any information or plans to any of the local police or any other of your contacts.”

I was surprised.

“You had me tapped. How could I have gotten to anyone without you knowing it?”

“There are a few public phones left. It is, amazingly, the safest communication out there anymore. Fewer and fewer of them, but only the government taps them.”

“Truthful answer – I haven’t used a public phone in longer than I can remember.”

“I’m sure it’s truthful, but it is also muddled. I will give you one of those free. Next time I don’t get a direct, truthful answer your friend will suffer.”

“I get a question now, right?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you kill Eddie Jarvis? He was harmless. You could get rid of the P.I. he hired, or buy him off to tell him what you wanted to hear, why didn’t you do that instead of killing him?”

“I was doing God’s work. Yes, you are right; I could have done any of those things. But we were going to purge all those that we could. It was what the Lord would want.”

I looked at him in amazement.

“Because he was gay?”

“Him and the private eye. They were both so honest, so idealistic. They would never let it go. So there were two reasons that King of Kings would want them dead.”

“Because they were so idealistic? Or was it mostly because they were gay?”

He nodded sadly.

“Look at that chair you’re sitting in. Look at the way you dress and the places you work. Are you a bit light in the loafers yourself?”

He pulled in a breath that could have filled a railroad car. Then he stood and took a single step to stand before me.

Then he hit me full upon the face. It was a strong blow, but it somehow lacked a full commitment.

“Now that,” I said as I rubbed my chin, “Was a bitch slap.”

He seethed, just on the edge of killing me himself.

Strategy suggested I change the subject.

“I have a lot of money. Possibly more than you. Why did you never try to recruit me before you started killing people?”

He tried to compose himself as he moved by to his throne. He saw it for a moment and then sat down and glared at me.

“I had a battery of people whose job it was to root out those who it would be prime candidates for saving. Your well-known dislike for religion made you a less-than-first rate. Yes, we thought about it, but we have a forger who will sign the papers that will put us on the receiving end of your estate. Oh, don’t worry; you’ll leave your family a token inheritance. That leaves less grounds to contest. My lawyers and accountants have worked it all out, and we’ll be sure to get it before our judges.”

“You’ve thought of everything.”

“And you can’t hack into your lists of ‘helpers,’” he bragged. “Those things are not on our computer network.”

He pulled out a chain that hung around his neck.

“This pendant contains a drive that contains all those things. You can’t get to the things that will hang me without getting close enough to kill me. I even put it in my will that I be buried with this. I take all my weakness to my grave.”

There sounded distant gun shots, from somewhere in the building.

“What’s…”

He was puzzled, so I knew it wasn’t something he had decreed. His guards turned to the door for a fraction of a second.

I reached out and ripped the chain from his neck with my left hand and followed up with my right. My punch was not strong, but since it was totally unexpected it slapped him back into his throne. He wasn’t knocked out, just stunned.

I got behind his throne and pushed it at the guards, who had turned around and trained their guns at me. But their God was a great shield.

They were close enough that they both got hit by the large man and larger chair as it moved toward them. Before they could really react I was out the door and had started down the hall.

The door was chopped up by automatic fire before they decided they ought to catch me before shooting me. By that time, I was almost at the lab.

What I saw was an open door and a couple of men with guns lying dead on the floor.

This is the point in the movies where the hero runs in to find his loved ones while he is unarmed. Idiots never pick up the guns from their dead enemies.

Well, that wasn’t me. I was being chased by armed men and running into a room filled with armed men. I was going to join that club. With two automatic assault rifles, one in each hand, I started in the room.

I had to jump aside as bullets riddled the area just around me.

My head exploded for just a second. Some shrapnel had hit the brace on my broken leg. It didn’t do any real damage, but the pain was agonizing. It was as if something rattled all the bones in my leg. It took me a tiny second to recover.

I might have been more circumspect but for the excruciating leg that threatened to give way beneath me.

“It’s me!” I shouted, and then let go a round of bullets aimed at my pursuers, “I’m coming in!”

Not a single shot came from within the room at me. I was greeted by all my guys, armed and setting up a safe zone.

Max was evidently shot in the leg, and Len had taken a slug in the shoulder, but other than that, there were just some scratches and the like. The Church’s gunmen had not fared as well; they were littered all around. There were six of them, all looking surprised and dead.

Hugo smiled as he stepped to me, “Amateurs, every one of them.”

“I agree,” said Chester. “And I should know!”

“Well,” I answered, looking around, “Not anymore. But I’ve got some new guests for the party running this way.”

“Then get over here where we can greet them,” Harry offered, to which I settled down behind a turned-over table and waited.

After four or five minutes we decided that they had gone to get re-enforcements.

“How the hell are we going to get out?” I asked thinking about trying to run with my undependable leg.

Len stood up and aimed his high powered gun at the wall and said, “Saw this in ‘Escape from New York’”

He outlined a circle in the wall and the sheet rock and the bricks beyond gave way.

Hugo and Harry stepped to the wall and kicked twice before the large bullet circled space became a large gaping hole in the wall. We looked at each other and then, as a group we ducked right through the hole.

It might have been a fine escape, with one exception: we were suddenly aware that our foes had taken up positions on the hill above us, waiting to blast the bejeezus out of us. We retreated back into the lab.

Then about 10 of them took up positions in the hall and set up a dainty little crossfire.

Harry declared, “Damn. This is no fun at all.”

 

© C. Wayne Owens

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