Betrayal: Society Lost, Volume Two (10 page)

“Yes, sir,” Jessie replied with T. R. nodding in agreement.

“Good. The sun will be up soon so you’d better hit the sack. Who knows what kind of day tomorrow will be with all things considered. I feel like a ball has been set into motion that simply can’t be stopped. I’ve kinda had that feeling for the past few days.” Shaking himself out of his own thoughts, Jack said, “Well, goodnight,” as he turned and left the room, closing the hidden door behind him.

Chapter Nineteen

Waking to the sounds of several men’s voices in the next room, Leina sat up quickly, her heart racing, unsure of where she was and what had happened. Quickly looking around, trying to piece the situation together, she found herself undressed and in a large king-sized bed, alone. Rolling over while throwing the covers to the side, she felt her right leg yanked to a stop, finding herself attached to the bed by what seemed to be a set of stainless-steel law-enforcement-style ankle restraints, similar to handcuffs, but with longer chains. With one end of the restraints locked securely around her ankle, and the other attached to the sturdy wooden frame of the bed, a mix of emotions rushed through her body.

That son-of-a-b—,
she thought as she had clearly been victimized by Chief Peronne and his men. Her anger quickly turned to heartache and dismay, as she realized that if this was the outcome of her dealings with Chief Peronne, the odds of the children being returned to her were slim to none.

“I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill that dirty son-of-a-b— if it’s the last thing I do,” she mumbled through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth.

Her head still swirling from the after-effects of what she could only assume was some sort of drug-induced state, she looked around the room to see her clothes piled in a corner against the far wall and out of her reach. Raising her left leg, she prepared to kick the footboard of the bed in an attempt to break the wood and free herself. She stopped short, though, thinking to herself,
No, they’ll hear me. They’re just outside the door. I’ve got to think this through. I’ve got to be smart about this.

Laying her head back down on the pillow, she looked at the ceiling, closed her eyes, and began to cry as she thought of the children, whom she now doubted she would ever see again. Thoughts of Kayla, Patricia, and Gavin, raced through her head as a dark, painful sadness began to set in. She knew now that it was Peronne and his men that ambushed their group, killing all but her and the children. Her memories, clouded by drugs and the blow to her head, started to come back into the forefront of her mind.

As she lay there, tortured by her thoughts, the door to the room opened slowly. Her heart began to race, not knowing what would come next. In walked the elderly Hispanic woman called Rosa, who had brought her freshly laundered clothes to the room where she was first kept. Pulling the covers over her naked body, Leina watched as Rosa quickly walked over to the dresser, placing some of what she assumed was Peronne’s clothing into a drawer.

Attempting to avoid making eye contact with Leina, Rosa turned and walked back toward the door. “Wait,” Leina murmured. “Don’t go. Please,” she begged.

Stopping, Rosa turned to look at her with a tear in her eye. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you,” Rosa said in a defeated tone.

“Please, don’t leave me here like this. You know what they are doing to me, and what they will do. Please help me.”

“I can’t,” Rosa replied, looking at the floor in shame.

“These men, they killed my friends. They took my children. I need to get out of here. I need to find my children. You’ve got to understand.”

As tears ran down her face, Rosa walked over to Peronne’s wine bar and took something in her hand. Walking over to Leina, she placed a corkscrew on the bed beside her, and quickly turned, running out of the room.

Taking the corkscrew, Leina hid it beneath the covers and closed her eyes, saying a silent prayer for the strength she knew she would need to make it out of her ordeal.
Please, Lord, please help me find a way out of here. Please help me to find the children. I’ve lost everything to this awful world. My husband Cas, my friends, my children, and now my freedom. Help me, give me the strength...

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps walking toward the door. Hearing a brief, muffled conversation, she heard a set of footsteps walking away from the room, while the door slowly creaked open. Closing her eyes, and pretending to be asleep, Leina listened as what appeared to be a man’s footsteps walking slowly across the room to the bed.

Feeling the covers being pulled back, exposing her naked body, she trembled inside as she fought the instinct to react. Feeling a man’s hand on her bare breast, she could wait to longer. Leina swung her right hand across her body, opening her eyes to see Officer Barnes standing over her as the corkscrew plunged into his neck.

Grasping the hand that he had placed on her breast with her left, she held him in place while she stabbed him repeatedly in the neck, as blood sprayed all over her, the coils of the corkscrew tearing chunks of flesh free with each violent thrust.

Looking directly into his eyes, seeing sheer terror on his face as his free hand fumbled for his gun, she said, “Enjoy your time in Hell, you son-of-a-b—,” as she plunged the corkscrew into the temple of his head, killing him instantly.

His lifeless body collapsing on top of her, the bed becoming soaked with blood, she struggled to reach his belt, removing his handcuff key then shoving him aside. Sitting up and quickly releasing her restraints, she climbed out of bed and stripped him of his duty belt containing his holstered pistol and spare magazines.

Still naked and now covered with blood, Leina pulled open a drawer containing what she assumed were Chief Peronne’s undershirts. Using them as towels, she wiped off as much of Barnes’s blood as she could and began looking around for something to wear. Pulling out drawer after drawer and dumping the contents onto the floor, Leina found a drawer containing sweat pants and workout clothing. Quickly donning both the pants and hooded sweatshirt of a jogging-style suit, she fastened the duty belt around her waist, pulling it to the tightest possible notch, and drew the 9mm Glock from the holster. Checking the action, verifying that a round was in the chamber and that the magazine was fully seated, she tiptoed over to the door, listening for any signs of another officer on the other side.

Running across the room to the west-facing window, she looked outside to see that she was on the second floor, and beneath her was a stone patio. Knowing that jumping from that distance would almost certainly cause a serious injury, especially while barefoot, she slipped back across the room, listening once again for sounds on the other side of the door.

Hearing nothing, she opened the door quietly and looked down the hallway, seeing no one present. Slipping down the hall toward the stairs, she could hear footsteps walking across the old wooden floor downstairs, its creaks giving away the person’s position.

Moving silently down the stairway, she could see an officer in the main parlor area of the house, sitting on the sofa with his feet up on the coffee table. With the stairs running down behind the sofa and with the officer’s back to her, Leina carefully snuck across the floor behind him and into the kitchen of the home.

Walking over to the knife rack, Leina removed a decorative chef’s knife with a Damascus-steel blade and what appeared to be an ivory handle.

Turning her attentions back to the man on the sofa, Leina crept ever so quietly behind him. Slowly reaching out with her left hand, and in an act of vengeance, she grabbed him by the hair, pulled his head back, and slid the blade across his throat, slicing him from ear to ear. As her rage continued to build, she kept sawing violently back and forth until his head became detached from his body.

Breathing heavily, with the blood of two men now splattered on her face and in her hair, she looked down at the grizzly scene, turned to look at the front door, then tossed the head onto the floor of the main entryway. Hitting the floor, the head bounced and rolled, leaving a trail of blood behind it before coming to a rest on a fancy decorative rug.

Walking over to the large, front-facing windows, Leina pushed the curtain back slightly with the blade of the knife, looking for any signs that the home was being watched.

Seeing a patrol car coming down the street toward the house, Leina ran back into the kitchen and slipped out the back door, disappearing into the surrounding neighborhood.

Chapter Twenty

Awakened by the sound of the door being opened, Jessie quickly sat up and reached for his Colt. Hearing Jack’s voice say, “Relax,” it’s just me. I brought you some coffee, Jessie took his hand off his gun and breathed a sigh of relief as he realized he had made it through yet another night without any of his ominous nightmares, as his days that start out in such a manner never seem to go well for him.

“You have coffee?” Jessie asked in an upbeat tone.

“Yes, although I probably don’t want to know where it came from,” Jack replied. “I got it through the city as part of our food rations, which is how they pay us these days when we work.”

“What time is it?” Jessie asked.

“It’s seven-thirty,” Jack replied as he began pouring both Jessie and T. R. a cup. Handing a cup to Jessie, Jack said, “The other is for your buddy over there when he wakes up,” gesturing toward T. R.

“He’s still out cold, huh?” Jessie said. “Well, he and I neither one have had much rest in the last few days. It felt good to sleep in a semi-secure environment last night. Thanks again for the hospitality.”

Changing the subject, Jack said, “Angela is off to work. She’s gonna see what she can find out today. When she gets back this evening, we’ll take what we have and go from there. For now, you two just need to stay put down here just in case someone reported seeing you in town. Eyes are everywhere these days. Even without all the high-tech electronic surveillance the government used prior to the collapse, controlling the food supply will get people to do just about anything for you. Being a lookout pays very well, I’ve heard.”

Taking a seat in an old wooden chair, Jack leaned back against the wall, taking a sip of coffee. Pointing at Jessie’s holster, he said, “What are you doing carrying that old relic around? Haven’t you been able to find an upgrade somewhere after all of this time?”

“This old relic is all I have left of my past,” Jessie said as he slid the gun out of its holster. Looking it over with fondness, he explained, “My father was a sheriff’s deputy when I was a boy. He carried this same pistol, and it saved his life more than once. Then, later in life, when I entered a law enforcement career myself, he handed it down to me. He died shortly after that, and well, I just wouldn’t part with this thing for the world, now. It’s saved my butt more times than I can count. It’s old and weathered, it’s hardly got any finish left, and it’s scuffed up pretty bad, but to me, it’s a work of art. No, there is no upgrade from this gun. It’s perfect just the way it is.”

Sliding the gun back into its holster, Jessie took a sip of coffee as Jack said, “So, you were a sheriff in Colorado?”

“Yeah, Montezuma County. Before the collapse, that is. My last election didn’t go so well. My opponent had money and connections. To say that I think the vote count was rigged would be a waste of breath. There toward the end, it seemed that all elections were a fraud. The people selected by the elites to be put into power always seemed to come up with the necessary vote count in the end.”

“Tell me about it. Hell, at least we had elections back then, even if they were rigged. Peronne has never been elected, and that bastard is dominating the entire town.”

“That needs to change,” Jessie said, taking another sip.

“It will. Trust me,” Jack replied.

Kicking T. R.’s cot, Jessie said, “Time to get up. Your coffee is getting cold.”

With a yawn and a stretch, T. R. looked around the room, rubbed his eyes, and said, “Man, I must have slept like the dead last night.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Jack replied sharply, changing the tone of the conversation.

Hearing the door open upstairs, Jack quickly stood up as he heard Angela’s voice yelling, “Daddy! Daddy!”

Running out of the room and up the stairs, followed by both Jessie and T. R., Jack found Angela rushing to meet him.

“What? What is it? What happened?” he asked.

Stopping to catch her breath, she replied, “Something went down last night at Peronne’s home.”

“What?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but I know that two of his officers are dead. And Rosa, Peronne’s maid, they raided her home and dragged her out kicking and screaming. Peronne is on the warpath, too. I heard him yelling that he was gonna tear the town apart looking for her.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. At that point, one of his men cleared us all out of city hall and sent us all home for the day.”

“Could it be the woman they were keeping?” Jessie asked.

“I... I don’t know,” she replied. “That’s the first thing I thought of, though.”

“Well, guys,” Jack said, turning to Jessie and T. R., “if something is gonna happen, it’s gonna be soon. Peronne isn’t gonna let this go. He can’t let his department take a hit like that without making it clear to everyone in town that he still has an iron grip on everything. The last thing a wannabe dictator wants to do is show any signs of weakness or vulnerability. No, I would venture to guess that if Rosa had anything to do with what happened at his home, he’ll come down on her and her family hard.”

“So what do we do?” asked Jessie.

Looking at T. R., Jack asked, “What’s the situation at the jail? Is that where they would have taken her?”

“More than likely,” T. R. replied. “The jail is inside the De Baca County Courthouse. If they are after someone, though, especially after the loss of four of their men over the past few days, the courthouse will have minimal staffing. They’ll double up on patrols, and probably start a door-to-door search. It won’t be pretty, either. It will be just as much an exhibition of power and control as it is about finding whoever it is they are looking for.”

Looking back at Jack, Jessie said, “Look, we don’t know what’s going on with the limited information that we have, but it would seem that this is a moment of opportunity. If Peronne and his men have their attentions turned elsewhere, we can use the chaos of the situation to make a move.”

Scratching his chin, Jack asked, “What do you suggest?”

“I came here with the intention of finding out what happened to the children that were taken in the ambush east of town. That’s still my priority. Without intel, though, we’re just gonna be randomly fighting Peronne’s men with no clear objective. I think we need to get our hands on that Rosa woman. If she betrayed Peronne and helped the woman they were holding escape, then her allegiances have been broken, and she has nothing left to lose. Being his personal maid, she probably knows more about what goes on behind the scenes than anyone outside of the police department.”

“That makes sense,” Jack replied.

Angela added, “Rosa is a wonderful woman. We’ve got to help her, intel or not. But I agree, she’s probably the best source of information we’ve got. She had access to places no one else in town, other than Peronne’s men, could go.”

Looking at T. R., Jessie said, “Can you get us in? You know the facility, right?”

“I know the layout and the security protocols, but it’s a relatively secure building. It’s an old building. Very sturdy and well built. The lower level is all thick masonry with steel covers over the windows. The upper levels are brick, several feet thick, I would guess. The doors are reinforced with steel, and the windows are all barred between the panes of glass, it looks decorative, but they’re tough.”

Picking up a pen and a piece of scrap paper, Jack handed it to T. R., and said, “Draw the basic layout. Where might they be keeping her?”

Taking the pen in hand, T. R. began to sketch out the basic floorplan of the building to the best of his knowledge, saying, “The main entry is up the steps on the second level. The holding cells are in the basement. Like I said, the windows to the basement are covered with large steel plates.”

Taking the paper in hand and studying it for a moment, Jack placed it back on the table, put his finger on the drawing, and said, “Where in here would she likely be?”

“Probably in one of these, but that’s just a guess,” he said, marking the paper as he spoke.

“Alright, then. I’ve got to meet with a few people and work a few things out,” said Jack as he folded the paper and put it into his shirt pocket. You two be working your way to the courthouse. I want you to both find a position on the east side of the building. When I arrive, make your move.”

“What? Um, make our move? What do you mean?” Jessie asked, confused.

“Like I said, I’ve got to work a few things out,” Jack explained. You’ll know when I’m there. And you’ll know when it’s time. Once we are able to make entry into the building, follow my lead.”

Looking at T. R., seeing the same look of confusion on his face, Jessie shrugged and said, “Roger that. But how will you know where we are?”

“I’ll see you when the shooting starts. Don’t worry, it will all be obvious. Besides, thinking we’re gonna be sticking to some sort of well-developed plan is a fantasy anyway. We’ve got to move now and on very little information. This is a shoot-from-the-hip type operation at best. Just roll with it,” Jack said confidently as he put on his jacket and gave Angela a kiss on the cheek. “Angela, you come with me. We’ll see you boys there.”

As Jack and Angela rushed out of the home, Jessie and T. R. looked at each other with mutual expressions of confusion. Shrugging his shoulders, Jessie said, “You heard the man. Let’s get back downstairs and get loaded up.”