Chapter Three
RAGE
Author: J Carrell Jones
Table of Content
Chapter Three
I sat on her sofa, read, and giggled. It tickled me to think that maybe I’m derailing her plans. I could imagine her fuming because I hadn’t walked through that second door looking to kick butt. I turned another page and read. A few minutes later Reanders came out of the second door. She hovered over me as I read. I looked up, smiled, and said, “Join me, look away, or fucking do something.”
She stared at me for a few seconds. “Ms. Bechard, I want to show you something.” Her emotions were in perfect check.
“I find your sofa quite comfortable. Does Guy ride you often on it?”
She paled.
“I know he’s gay, but money is money. Do you clench or suck him off as a reward?”
She was so mad that she started to shake. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’d like to apologize for my behavior.”
I closed the book, got up, looked her in the eyes, and said, “Apology will tentatively be accepted when given.”
She worked her mouth into different expressions. She finally said, “Very well.” She reached her hand out in a handshake. I stared at it for nearly a minute and shook it once. It had some lotion on it. I still wasn’t sure if I won that battle or not. “Please follow me into my lab. I have something to show you related to your questioning.” She turned and started to walk.
I stood fast. “Tell me now.”
She froze, turned, and said, “It’s more data on the variant. Because of security reasons I can only reveal so much.”
I wasn’t convinced.
“Among other things it was supposed to be an endurance enhancer. If you want more follow me. If not, please leave.”
I hesitated, then started to leave.
She blurted out, “Your boss called and reminded me of my contractual obligations.”
I followed her through the second door into a small chamber. It was more like a large closet. Towels hung on one side and a sink on the other. She stepped up to the sink and washed her hands. As she was drying them she thought for a second and said, “Sorry, old habits. It had nothing to do with the handshake. You probably should wash yours as well.”
I did, but I started to feel warm. I looked over to Reanders. She was slowly drying her hands. My eyesight started to narrow. Reanders lend in close and said, “Miss. Bechard, you are not looking well. Is something the matter?”
I turned to choke her skinny little neck but couldn’t hold onto the right one. A few seconds later I blacked out. ‘I’m spanking your ass the first chance I get,’ was my last thought.
I woke up in the middle of being tied to an old wooden chair. There were several men in lab coats standing around holding clipboards.
Another two had just finished tying my waist to the chair. Amateurs. Not one could tie a decent knot.
Reanders had her back to me working at a nearby desk.
I surprised the two men and knocked their heads together. The other three froze. I flexed hard, grabbed the top few rope turns and lifted. The entire wrap became slack. I reached out and grabbed Reanders by her bun.
She yelped “What the . . . “
I spun her around and gave her several hard slaps to the face. Then I lift her lab coat over her head and bent her over my knee. She dropped easily into place. In one motion I pulled her pants and panties down to her knees and spanked hard. Her ass was very soft and smooth. Immediately her cheeks turned red. She now had a dozen hand prints on both cheeks. I briefly enjoyed the view and I was about to give her another dozen when strong arms grabbed me.
Guy said, “I can’t believe you let her do that to the Doctor.”
Reanders tumbled off my knees and heavily landed on the floor.
She got up embarrassed. Her face cheeks were just as red as her butt cheeks. She slapped me as hard as she could.
I laughed. “Dorothy, you spend too much time in the lab and on your knees. The gym I say. The gym.”
She hit me harder. I felt that one.
I said, “Better. Don’t stop at the face. Follow through.”
She did and the slap stung. She did it several more times then she held her hand and rubbed the center of her palm with the other hand.
“Not used to beating people up, I see.”
“Will someone shut this bitch up?”
One of the males gagged me with a cloth. Guy instructed the others on how to tie a knot. Within minutes my arms, legs, chest, and hands were tied to the chair.
Reanders had composed herself and went back to her desk. She walked over to a small refrigerator on one of the workbenches. “You know, Ms. Bechard. You should consider yourself lucky. You’ll be the first Human to test this out.” She had a metal canister in her hands. She slowly opened the top and poured a glowing light blue liquid into a glass beaker. She recapped the container and placed it backed into the refrigerator. She carefully placed the beaker on the table and slid some thick gloves over each hand. “This is not scientific, but you know what? I don’t care. I hate you so much I hope this mixture is a failure and kills you.”
I tried to escape, but the knots were too good.
“At best, you’ll feel euphoric before pain hits, but you’ll have an incredible amount of strength and endurance for hours. At worst you’ll die in horrible pain.” She picked up a remote and pressed a button. I was hit with high voltage.
“If you struggle again I’ll fry you. Try to escape I’ll fry you. Survive, I’ll fry you.” She smiled and seemed satisfied. She handed the remote to one of the three males with the clipboards. Wrong move number one. “I created the variant. It was a total failure you know. Unfortunately, one of my former assistants leaked the variant out on the street. The idiot kept a blog. The one I produced gave the user enormous strength. The side effect was mindless aggression. The subject you encountered had some control over his faculties. With this new batch I scaled down the aggression, but kept the strength. Adding a Meth-variant and cannabis extracts may be the missing ingredients. You my annoying gumshoe will be the first test subject. . .”
I rocked the chair in an attempt to loosen the ropes.
Reanders put her face inches from mine. Her breath was that of coffee. “I hate you so much. Success or not you won’t live to talk. Because you are a hothead I can easily fake your death in many ways and make it look like it was your idiotic self that did it. And , No. Your Vadnez did not call me.” She let that sink in.
She stood up and flipped a few switches on some machines and monitors to the side of me. She had the other two stooges attach wires to me. She walked over to the table and picked up the beaker of rage in one hand. A small sponge at the end on a long neck surgical scissor was in the other. “This new batch doesn’t require injection or ingestion. It’s topical.”
I bucked the chair.
Reanders backed away. “Guy, hold this silly bitch still, please.”
He reached out to grab me and I pivoted on the back left leg. I bucked up and landed the right front leg on his instep. His head came down and I flipped my head up. His arms flung out knocking Reanders’ beaker of rage into her face. I pivoted several more times and was able to stand on my feet. I pushed off using my toes and had enough lift to rotate the chair forty-five degrees to the floor. I landed hard.
Reanders screamed in pain.
I removed the tied broken pieces from my arms and legs and ripped off all that wiring that had been attached to me. I spotted my purse and grabbed it. The Glock was still there.
Reanders was having a hard time though. She was curled up in a ball moaning. Her staff surrounded her. One reached down to touch her. Her hand whipped out and caught him by the collar. “You didn’t push the button.” She growled.
He tried to escape.
“You didn’t push the button!” She stood up and back handed him.
He went limped and crumpled to the ground.
She turned toward me. Her face twisted up in rage. “Now that was fuckin’ dumb.”
I replied, “Of you, it was. Whatcha expect, Psycho?”
Her eyes snapped wide open. I just pushed the wrong button.
She shoved the others out of her way and came at me like a freight train.
I dodged several wild swings but got hit on the fourth one. It hit my right arm. The hit was nothing like before. This one hurt.
She was wild and random with her swings. Most I could block, some I couldn’t. I went on the attack and rained punches and kicks down on her. None effective enough to put her down. I decided the next best course of action was to run. I nearly reached the door when she grabbed me by the collar and jerked hard. I flown back into her watching and now surprised staff. I pulled my Glock out. I was in the process of aiming when it was snatched out of my hand. I scrambled for cover when someone stumbled on top of me. I felt two more bodies. Then their bodies jerked up and down with each bark of my Glock. I purposely keep a magazine with only five low velocity rounds in it when I’m in a densely populated city. I would continue that practice.
“Are you dead, yet, Mutt?”
I didn’t move.
‘Click-Click-Click-Click-Click.’ she tossed my gun to the side and walked out of the room. I counted to ten and started breathing again. I opened my eyes and caught Guy’s cold dead stare. Such a waste on all levels.
I pulled out from under the pile. Guy and two others dead. A third had his head at an awkward angle. The last two were missing. My clothes were dirty and had some blood on it, but not enough to think I went to a massacre. I found my Glock and purse and headed downstairs via the stairwell. Once outside I called Vadnez. This time he picked up.
“Ms. Bechard. Are you alright?”
“I’m adding kitten kissing to my list. Dr. Reanders has now gone psycho.”
“Please explain.”
“She created the variant, but a former assistant leaked it out. However, she tried to test a new variant on me. Long story short it got on her. We need CDC on this one. The substance is topical. Her Back office is now a morgue. . . “
I made it downstairs and ran out the lobby.
One of the building security yelled something at me. I ignored him and rushed outside.
“ . . . she escaped and I’m trying to find her now. She is quite dangerous, but not berserker so.”
“Understood. I’m alerting the local authorities, now. By the way, there have been ten new reports. All in the LA area. Please use extreme caution.”
“Vadnez, you know me. I’m always . . . “
“ . . . rattling cages, causing chaos, and mayhem sooner than later. Yes, I do know you, Ms. Bechard. Please keep the collateral damage to a reasonable level. Accounting is sending me hate emails.” Did I hear a smile out of that? He disconnected.
I came out the front end near a Subway Sandwich shop and ran to the corner while talking to Vadnez. I spotted Reanders halfway down the block. She had just head butted someone in a Dodge Charger. She pulled a man out through the side window and tossed him across the street. I popped the spent clip out of the Glock and reloaded with a full clip. Too late, she sped past me headed up E 118 St.
I spotted a man next to a parked Smartcar. I ran over to him. “UN Agent Karen Bechard.” I showed him my ID. “I need your car.”
He said, “Yeah, right. You kiddin’ me?”
Then I showed him my gun. “Get in the passenger side or get outta my way.”
He slide over to the passenger side and handed me his keys. I gunned the engine and popped the gear into drive.
“If I total this one I’ll have my Boss buy you a new car.”
He snapped on his seat belt. “If I live through this I want a Tesla Model-S.”
E 118th was a one-way street big enough for one car with parking on both sides. Traffic was light as Reanders crossed rapidly over Madison. The light was still green for me so I stumped on the accelerator and zipped past other cars. Reanders, however, muscled her way through traffic. She sideswiped several cars causing small pile ups. I took the sidewalk and easily maneuvered past all the chaos. I was catching up when she made a sudden left turn on Park Ave. I overshot and decided to catch her by way of Lexington. I made the left turn and drove on the sidewalk. Lexington traffic was moving in the opposite direction.
“Holly Shit Lady. Who taught you how to drive?”
I just crossed 119st when I caught sight of the tail end of her car. School was still in session so I didn’t have to worry about kids. I was just about to cross 120th when she flashed just in front of us. She was looking right at me as she slide across the intersection. She was trying to hit us.
I made a sharp right and followed. 3rd came up and she took the left fast.
“Watch out!” My passenger yelled.
I missed an old man on a walker. “Thanks. Hey, what’s your name?”
He clenched the dashboard and looked terrified.
“Hey!” I said loudly. “I do this all the time. What is your name?”
“Andy! Andy, is my name! Holy . . . Lady!”
“Call me Karen.” We swerved right then left.
Reanders was clipping cars and causing crashes in the process. I wondered where she was headed to. Then I heard the sirens. NYPD was near. We made it to the end of 3rd and made the right onto E 128th. She was making her way to 2nd ave when a M15 Bus pulled out of the depot. She tried to avoid the bus but it was too late. The Dodge hit the passenger front tire dead center. Airbags deployed inside.
I slid the Smart car to a stop and jumped out.
Reanders staggered out as I reached her.
She shook off her daze and started to rage.
I was prepared this time and kicked her squarely in the chest.
She lost her breath but swung at me. A near miss.
I came in close and kneed her in the crotch. I spun and kneed her in the temple. She dropped to her knees and I finished her off with an elbow to the head. A killing blow that should have ended the fight. She took the hit and dropped to the ground. Seconds later NYPD was upon us. I yelled out, “UN Agent Bechard.”
Several more officers ran up to us guns drawn.
“My ID is in that Smartcar over there.”
An officer bent down to check Reanders’ pulse.
I said, “Be careful, she’s high.”
He pulled his hand back. Reanders grabbed it and pulled hard. He wrist broke. She grabbed his gun and was about to shoot when I knife chopped her in the throat. The gun dropped and several other cops rushed her. It took a total of ten to hold her down. Moments later it was over. Reanders was in the backseat of a squad car wearing six handcuffs. They had to place handcuffs on her ankles as well.
Andy walked up to me with my purse in hand. “Karen, that was some tough shit you put me through. Fuck, that was tight.”
I took my purse, “Thanks. Some days are better than others.” Just then my official cell rang. It was Vadnez.
“Karen speaking.”
“Ms. Bechard, I see everything has ended well with minimal damage.”
“Yay for the good guys. There is a certain car I used that will have to be repaired. Replacing it would be better.”
There was a long pause, “Please fill out the necessary paperwork when you get back. I have some disturbing news and a new assignment.”
“About this . . .”
Vadnez interrupted, “Only over secure lines. I’ll expect you back in an hour. Your car is waiting in the employee parking lot.”
“Thanks.” I ended the call. I looked up to Andy. “Andy, thanks for the use of your car. Here’s my card. First chance you get, leave a message with name, address, insurance company name, policies, yada yada yada. The system will walk you through everything.” I turned to an officer. “Is there someone available to take me to the UN Building? A ride would really be appreciated.”
He said, “Sure Agent Bechard. You can ride with us. The lieutenant just released us.”
Thirty minutes later I was sitting in Vadnez office with dirty and blood stained clothing. I knew that Vadnez was fighting his inner demons, but I enjoyed the thought of pushing his neat freak button.
“Ms. Bechard, you could have changed into clean clothing first.”
“Boss, I’m a dutiful soldier. You asked me to be here as soon as possible. Well, this is as soon as possible.”
He coughed once. He took a folder that was neatly stacked on top of several more. “Reanders’ was contracted by the US government to create a performance enhancing drug that also increased endurance. It looks like she was very close. I should be getting a report from the CDC by week’s end. I asked for a meeting with the CDC Director and head of UNODC.”
“And now that I made chaos sooner than later the America won’t be getting their new drug.”
“On the contrary. They’ve got it. And for free.” He handed me the folder. “Your new assignment. Holders can finish up here.”
The cover had a picture of Los Angeles. “When do I leave?”
“Tomorrow morning. Your ticket is inside the folder.”
I opened it and sure enough. LA coach. I’ll be upgrading thank you very much. I got up and started toward the door.
“Ms. Bechard?”
I stopped and turned. “Yes, sir?”
“The variant is worse than we thought. Los Angeles looks to be ground Zero. So far 35 cases in the last three days. Be very careful.”
I nodded. “I’m always . . . “
“ . . . rattling cages, yes.” He finished.
He cares. I walked out the door. I was halfway down the hall when I placed a call to LA. Jim didn’t pick up so I left a message on his voicemail. “Hey Love, I’ll be back in town sometime tomorrow, so ask her to sleep elsewhere and hide her panties better this time.” I hung up and laughed. I know Jim was seeing someone else. I couldn’t blame him. I’m hardly in LA and I’m just as horny and flirtatious as he is. More so actually. So, who am I to get upset if he had another girl? Hell, if she’s pretty I’d do her myself. In fact, Mary had been on my mind. I had planned on taking her panties and then some.
I was outside heading toward the employee parking area. Cortez was on my cell, “I hear you had fun.”
“You know I always have fun.”
He laughed, “For others your kind of fun is a death sentence.”
“It’s karma,” I said. “Pure and simple. Kiss puppies and babies, help the elderly, wish the best for everyone.”
“Like I said. A death sentence for others. Anyway, I just sent you Mary’s home and cell number. She finished debriefing and the Airline gave her several weeks off. She’s based out of LA.”
“Really?”
“And get this. She has a ticket to LA tomorrow morning.” He paused.
“You got me my ticket, didn’t you?”
“Always got your back Girl. Always.”
“Thanks, Cortez. See you when I get back. Lunch, your choice.”
“I see lobster in my future. One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Pack tactical.”
“Really? That serious?”
“There’s a lot of movement at all levels. The US may be mobilizing. It’s the End of Day scenario.”
“Shit.”
“And then some.”
After several rings Mary answered. “Hello?”
“Mary, this is Karen . . .”
She rushed out, “Karen! Oh my God! I was hoping you’d find a way to reach me. I tried getting your number, but I couldn’t find anyone at the UN building who would even acknowledge UN Agents.”
“Mary, Mary. You got me now.”
“Oh Karen, I’m leaving for LA in the morning. I was afraid I’d never hear from you.”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Just finished packing. I’m too worn out for TV.”
“May I pick you up for that Dinner?”
“Of course, but I have an early flight.”
“So do I.”
“Huh?”
“We’re on the same flight. What to do a sleepover?” Say yes, please.
She giggled. “I’d love to do a sleepover.”
Sleepover was better than I had hoped for. Mary was a tigress and she made me her gazelle. Jim is a good kisser, but there is something about kissing another woman. It’s the same, but different. The taste is different. So is the texture and smell. It’s the total package that keeps me in the game, otherwise I’d stay on one side of the fence.