Nightmares are also dreams Part 19-Interlude

The warehouse stinks of copper and shit and wet metal. The last few surviving members of the kidnapping team are living out their final moments. Their ragged gasps are the only sound. Their throats have long since given out, though their screams seem to have soaked into the walls. This silence, these last few minutes, are all the peace left to them.

Jen plays the spray over the concrete. The blood and offal swirl into the open drain. The chiaroscuro of reds and blacks under the lights, where dark deeds are done. Cleanup is always important.

The soft shhh of the spray lulls the mind and Jen slips into a meditative state. Her body aches with the days exertions and she mulls over the names and places they got from the men. Each one representing another link in the long chain leading to the group that’s so raised Pel’s ire. The images, Jen thinks, are too close to his own desires. Caged in a iron will, he can’t let others do what his impulses lead him to. 

The sound of frantic beeping raises her from her reverie. The EEG cutting off, leaving silence and the small sounds of movement and breathe, as one of her team turns off the warning and drags the body over to the disposal area.

Jen sighs as her lieutenant brings over the sign-off for this op. She signs her name and turns it over to her subordinate.

“Standard arrangement. Crematorium then an interior burn of the site. Then get everyone home. Tomorrow we start tracking this down,” Jen orders, waving vaguely. 

Janus nods and heads off to supervise the loading of the bodies.

The sound of Bolero rings out and Jen reaches into her jeans, fishing out the cell. The call ID says Misty.

“Hey, hon,” Jen answers. She walks to the side door to the secured parking lot and steps into the early afternoon light. The heat of the sun and the warmth of the air bring her out of operational mode. Affection suffuses her voice, “No, I’ll be home on time tonight. Do you want me to pick up anything on my way home?… No, that sounds delicious. I’ll see you soon.”

Work life balance is so important. 

Nightmares are also dreams Part 13-Interlude

The soft drip of water sounds distant and hollow. The room I’m in looks to be some kind of warehouse space. I can see a drain on the floor and…what looks like hair spotted with scalp. I can feel my heart pounding like some crazed dubstep song. I know what this is. I can hear the part of me that isn’t floating in this pleasant haze of what I can only imagine to be really good shit gibbering and wailing in some small corner of my mind.

This is a kill room. Maybe a torture room or enhanced interrogation techniques, as I’ve heard the more cold blooded mercenaries we work with. I think they are going to kill me. And I know that I should care but I seem to only be able to work myself up to mildly bemused.

Oh look it’s the peach dress lady and she has some kind of cattle prod. Hullo peach dress lady!

She shoves it into my bare stomach and the prongs are cold. So amateur, everyone knows you keep them warm.

My veins pulse fire and every muscle in me contracts including my poor heart and for a brief eternity all I can do is scream. And in those seconds, I can see clearly across the room. The whole capture team has been rolled up.

The drugs recede a bit when the bitch in peach is done and she walks over to one of the blank faced sociopaths we use as muscle. Oooh right in the testicles….better them than me.

They still haven’t asked any questions. The keening in my mind gets higher and I can hear the whimpers escape. They aren’t going to ask anything…they are just going to torture us until we die.

There has to be something I can give them. Some link that will get me free. But I don’t know anything, I don’t know, I don’t know…

“Wait, please,” I scream. I swear I screamed. My throat feels raw from screaming. They had to have heard. They must. I thrash against the bonds in the chair I’m in and catch a glimpse of the redhead…that bitch the opposition use for a chief. She’s rolling some kind of cart to the one team member I know. He’s a guy I grab beers with after the job, maybe we go back to his place and fuck.
He’s slumped down and doesn’t seem to be breathing…the sound of pleading comes louder now. I wish it would shut up. I’m trying to hear what’s happening.

They used paddles and revived him. I feel cold right to the center of me. How many times have we died? How many times?

*** *** ***

Tara is looking ill, Jen thinks. It’s time to get her out of here. She wanted to see justice done but I don’t think she can handle this. I’m sending her back to Pel with a note that she may need emotional support. In any case, it’s been several hours. He has to be almost done by now.

Nightmares are also dreams Part 10-Jen

The subject is nervous. She looks skittish out on her own. Having seen the material collected from her abuser, it’s obvious where that comes from. According to the psych profile, agoraphobia is not uncommon as her trauma continues to resurface.

She shouldn’t be nervous. Not logically. Presidents and dictators are less well protected than she is. The mall is seeded with plain clothes mercs, all with backgrounds of former police or MP’s. We have a lead car, a trail car and 3 different sets of cars running counter trailing techiques. If they are tailing the vehicle’s, it’ll be the last mistake they make.

When we exit and traverse to the mall entrance will be the first real opportunity to kill her. A sniper could do it, if they are good enough. Or if they are willing to go loud. Not a lot we can do against an RPG or a LAW. But barring that we have counter snipers positioned around the primary entrance as well as the backup.

She thinks of me like a big sister. Pel’s familiarity with me in front of her puts her at ease. That should eliminate any desire for her to buck my orders or try to slip away. I do so hate it when the primary tries to get clever. As if we care what mistress you have or what bribe you are handing out this week. Gods, I hate amateurs. But, in country, they pay the bills. Wish they would just read the damn contracts though. The penalty we hit them with for disobedience of their protective detail would make Midas blink.

In any case, Tara is as safe as we can make her. And Pel…sometimes the boss is so cold. He put it out on certain unsavory corners of the deep web that the witness would be out today. Hoping to catch some bottom feeders in his net. I’m glad he didn’t ask me to pull that duty, too. Splitting your attention is a good way to get the primary killed.

Nah, that job goes to Jacob and his KNR cowboys. Sometimes they rescue and sometimes they do the tracking back when it goes wrong.

“Lavender,” announces the mic. Breaking my train of thought. Looks like we are moving to the secondary. They already swept someone up at the primary.

Pel. Cold beautiful bastard.