Chapter 10 - Liberation

Pete and Jerry listened to my story in disbelief. Not in the way they thought I was lying, but the story seemed so unbelievable, how could it be true. How could the chain of events have happened the way I described? People joke that there is no such thing as a man being raped, but it could happen - and it did. What a horrible thing for one human being to do to another. To embezzle something so intimate, personal, and private. It tears at one’s soul.

"So Pete, where do I stand? What comes next?"
"I suspect the Sheriff will enter this room at any moment and interrogate you. They have twenty four hours from the time of arrest to charge you or let you go."
"Do you think I'll get charged?"
"No doubt. The officers heard the shot and saw you standing over her. Your prints are on the gun, and they'll have that shortly. It will take more than twenty four hours to get DNA results, but they won't need that to charge you. Her murder clearly points to you. I'm sorry Mr. Scott."
"Call me Randy. Okay, so I’ll get charged. How about bail?" I had never been involved in anything like this before and didn't understand the mechanics.
"If you can afford it. I suspect this will be at least a million dollar bond, which means you need to come up with one hundred grand."
"No problem," I said. "When can I get out?"
"Slow down Randy, you haven't even been interrogated yet," said Pete. "If all goes well, maybe by tomorrow afternoon, possibly Wednesday."

Just then we heard a loud blast from outside the meeting room. Jerry jumped up and looked out the small ten inch square bullet proof window. Pete obviously was too short to be able to see. I fell in behind Jerry to look over his shoulder, the scent of his Ralph Lauren cologne assaulted my nose. I could see past Jerry, but all I saw was smoke.

"What the fuck is that?" I rhetorically asked.
"What is it?" asked Pete frustrated that he couldn’t see. That must have been a common issue for him.
"Smoke and some movement, but I can't make it out," I replied. Just then the bullet proof glass was penetrated by some sort of bullet that shattered the glass. Fortunately I was looking over the shoulder of Jerry and not standing directly behind him because the bullet entered his forehead and exited the back of his skull. Unlike Rach, the bullet was so precise, it left his skull in place. The projectile cleanly escaped and landed across the room, coming to rest in the block wall with a small spattering of hair and blood. I felt the heat of the bullet when it passed my left temple.

"Shit!" Exclaimed Pete as Jerry fell back against me his blood slowly seeping into the shoulder of my shirt, his body laying heavily against mine. I eased him down to the floor faced up and looked at the crimson assault on my oxford shirt. I had never seen a corpse before in my life, today I saw two.

The door flew opened and a large Latino man entered the room, tossing the index finger of Red to the floor. He obviously needed the bio key to access different parts of the jail including this room. Before Pete had a chance to open his mouth and object as a litigator in a courtroom, a second bullet entered and vacated his head, ultimately resting in the floor, silencing him forever. No doubt there would be quiet private celebration among Florida DA's - the midget was dead.

A second man, this one much more average size - about my height, blond hair and blue eyes quickly put a gas mask over my head stopping the itch from the smoke that quickly filled the room. He then grabbed my upper arm and brandished his firearm, "your coming with us."

I could barely see through the mask as I was led out of the municipal building. I thought I saw Red on the floor, but was not sure. I counted three other bodies but there could have been more. I wondered if they were dead or unconscious from the smoke. I hoped that Junior was out on patrol – he was too young to face extermination.

As soon as we left the building the mask was removed from my head. The Nordic assailant holding my arm pushed me in the back seat of an H3. I was surprised how roomy the compact Hummer was on the inside. He followed me into the back seat and the Latino got in the drivers door, started the military type vehicle and drove off slowly as to not attract any further attention. I never understood the desire to drive these things, but as we drove off it felt indestructible. I guess people who were insecure were buying that invincibility. I suspect the Nord and Latino drove this vehicle for other reasons, and it wasn't for grocery bags gathered at Publix.

"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Home," responded Nord.
"Huh?" I replied puzzled.
"Your condo," he clarified in a German accent.

Just then he produced my Blackberry which he must have taken from the jail before my liberation from the law, and incarceration by these thugs. "Call your boss," he commanded.
"Why?"
"Tell her you don't feel well and won't be in." I wondered how he knew my boss was a female. There were larger things at work here. If I only knew then what I know now.
"She’ll know I went to jail," I argued.
"And how will she know that?"

I thought for a moment. Jerry came to see me early and I doubt he called in sick for me. I guess the only people that knew were the police in Flagler County and two dead attorneys. I wondered if the FBI was on this yet.

"Call and make it short."

I took the Berry and selected Andrea's name from the call list. I called her cell of course, she never answered her desk phone - it was always solicitors that made it past the automated attendant. Andrea Hollister was a homely but brilliant CEO who started her business when she was in her twenties. She was now forty-something and one of the most influential businesswomen in the Southeast. I pressed the send button.