DEAD MEN’S PATH 9
In the darkness, Senator Markle could barely make out the fact of the company’s representative asking for his help for a little something in return. This part of his business life was no longer conducted in his office. He had become very paranoid after seeing many of his colleagues carted off by the FBI. This was to be his last act before he fled the country. He opened the suitcase he had been given and watched the money in it. They were not marked or arranged in serial numbers. He repeated the warning that had been in his mouth for almost every moment of his dealing with these two young executives.
“If you are with the FBI, believe me, I’ll shoot you.”
They simply smiled at him. Nodding, he carried the suitcase. The senator started walking towards his car with the suitcase. He turned to see the other man walking briskly to his, watched him raise his hand to his ear, scratching it. That was a signal! He thought, red lights going off in his head. A figure leaped out of a hiding place and rushed at the senator. A strong headlight beamed onto the stage, momentarily stunning the senator. Quickly, Senator Markle Drinkwater made for his car.
“Stop right there and raise your hands,” a female voice boomed. “You’re surrendered. Make no sudden movement, Senator Drinkwater.”
The senator’s eyes popped into his head at the mention of his name. He had stopped; he was stunned. He suddenly turned and flew towards his car.
“Move!” he shouted.
The car burst forward towards the female agent. Her gun had been trained on the front tire to put it out of the reckoning. A dangerous move. She leaped out of the way fast, tumbling into the darkness.
“He’s getting away,” the senator heard her shout.
The sound of other car engines responded. As the senator’s car rounded the bend, three FBI’s SUV’s followed in hot pursuit. The last one screeched to a halt beside the female agent. She jumped in and the car sped off after the senator.
Senator Markle reached for his phone and called a number in speed dial.
“Do it,” he said, coldly.
He had not finished speaking before a big explosion lighted up the night. The first SUV that was following him closely had been hit by a bullet flying out from nowhere.
“Yes,” the senator shouted, clenching his fist.
The third car broke slowly, sliding till it hit their second SUV already halted. Looking back, the senator saw light whistling through the air, making for both cars.
“Out!” Shaw screamed.
The bullet hit in due time. Both cars screamed in agony as they exploded and burst into flames. The explosions tickled a part of the senator he had forgotten was there. He dialed the number again.
“Make sure no one is alive.”
“Make sure there’s no one left,” a voice instructed repeating the senator’s words.
Senator Markle grinned as his car moved away from the demolition. The FBI would learn to tread more carefully now, or not tread at all.
“What the fuck? An explosion? We lost everything?” Jack asked Newman. It was the morning after the horrible incident being broadcast on the TV.
“Every agent either died in the explosion or were shot dead.”
“One agent is missing though. Sarah Underwood. No trace of her.”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“No, what’s that?”
“She could be the mole who let the senator know we were unto him.”
“Yeah, that’s plausible.”
“I knew those guys would be unable to handle this. What happened to giving work to people that can actually do it?”
“We were undercover, Jack.”
“Yes, but we could have provided backup.”
The two partners walked away from the fast-food, doughnut in hand, milkshake in the other.
“We have been made,” Newman said suddenly, dropping his milkshake.
A rain of bullets answered Jack’s questions. He flew down immediately, hiding behind the nearest car he could see. They swiped out their guns simultaneously.
“He meant business.”
A whistling sound flew through the air.
“Run!” Jack screamed. His time in the army had prepared him for a lot of things. This was one. Bending low the two scrambled back into the joint and raced towards the back exit, a rain of bullets in their wake. Their movement was impeded by people running helter-skelter at the first sound of flesh-eating bullets. Their race took them out to the back of the building, moments before the building exploded behind them. They were flung onto the streets, their guns knocked out of their hands, together with their breath. With the sounds ringing in their heads, a car stopped just in front of them. They were hopeless to do anything. Senator Markle, after all, was one who fulfilled his promise.
“Come on, get in,” a female voice called.
By the gods, it was Sarah, the missing FBI agent. They scampered up and ran into the open arms of the car waiting for them. Screeching tires announced the departure of the car with the two battered agents in it.