"For man also knows not his time: like the fishes that
are taken in an evil net, and like the birds that are
caught in the snare; so are the sons of men snared in
an evil time, when it falls suddenly upon them."
Ecclesiastes 9:12
Carrie, Laura and George had gone to lunch, although it seemed to Carrie that they had done more working than eating.
"Enjoy your meal, DA Long?" the host asked.
"Very much, thank you." Carrie started out the door, Laura followed, and George as always was bringing up the rear. Carrie opened the car door and slid in behind the wheel. She had just put the key into the ignition when she heard a strange popping sound. Laura let out a startled scream and fell to the sidewalk. Carrie, thinking that Laura had tripped on the curb, got up and ran around the car to help her up. To her surprise George slammed into her, knocking her to the ground.
"Get down! I think someone's shooting." George sounded like he was talking into a vacuum. For a minute it didn't register. None of it registered.
"Laura! Laura, are you all right?" George screamed
"I . . . I don't know." She sounded like she was miles away instead of just a few feet across the sidewalk. "I've been hit."
Carrie didn't really remember how she got out from under George, but the next thing she knew she was at Laura's side, and George was crawling along the ground yelling at her for taking chances.
She heard the sirens coming, and the next thing she knew, cops had surrounded them. Carrie saw the wound in Laura's arm and wondered what was taking the goddamned ambulance so long.
"It doesn't look bad," Carrie said.
"Well, it sure doesn't feel good." Laura was panicking, looking shocky.
"George, give me your jacket," Carrie ordered.
George took off his jacket and handed it to Carrie.
Carrie wadded it up and used it to apply direct pressure to the wound. It was bleeding badly.
"How's that?" Carrie asked.
"Better, I think," Laura said.
Carrie was aware of police running around like crazy all around her. No doubt they were looking for the shooter.
"There's a silencer on the weapon!" George shouted to the police. "But I thought I saw something up there." He was pointing at the parking garage across the street.
"Carrie, aren't the paramedics here yet?" Laura asked. She was scared, and who could blame her?
"Where is the fucking ambulance?" Carrie screamed.
"It's on its way, Sir," one of the officers said. "Should be here any second now. I already called Detective Chan, and he'll meet us at the hospital."
The ambulance showed up then. The paramedics that ran up to help were wearing flak jackets. They started working on Laura. The woman paramedic pushed Carrie gently away. She pulled up the jacket, looked at the wound and smiled at Laura.
"Now that doesn't look bad at all."
The other one was spitting out vital statistics that meant nothing to Carrie, and then they were lifting Laura onto a stretcher and loading her into the ambulance.
Carrie followed. "I'm going with her."
The female paramedic nodded.
Carrie noticed that the police were putting a layer of bodies between her and everyone else, and when she got in the ambulance a cop went with them.
"Carrie?" Laura said.
"Right here, Laura," Carrie said.
"You think . . . was it the SWTF?" Laura asked.
Carrie realized then what had just happened. Someone had tried to shoot her. Laura just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Carrie wondered what the hell Laura knew about the SWTF. Carrie laughed nervously, looked at the officer and shrugged.
"Of course not, Laura. Just some lunatic. I get death threats every single day. I'm sorry, Laura, it should have been me."
"Too many coincidences, Carrie. Too many damn coincidences," Laura mumbled and then she was out.
Tommy paced the waiting room. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to be like this. Laura had a "safe" job. She wasn't supposed to be in danger.
"Tommy, she'll be all right," Carrie said from where she sat in the waiting room.
Tommy glared at her. "If you had taken the police escort that they wanted you to have . . . "
"I don't see what good that would have done, Tommy, but if it will make you feel any better we'll have one from now on."
Spider rushed in then, hugged him tight and released him. "I just heard. What the hell happened?"
Carrie walked over and hugged her. "It was terrible . . . " By the time she had finished telling Spider everything that had happened she was in tears. Spider held her and patted her back. She looked at Tommy.
"What happened to you?" she asked looking at his swollen lip.
"I had a run in with some thugs down at the dock." He didn't elaborate. The last thing he wanted to hear right now were any of Spider's conspiracy theories. "What is taking so fucking long?"
The doctor walked out then and called, "Mr. Chan?"
Tommy ran over to him.
"You're wife is going to be fine. The bullet didn't hit anything vital, and we were able to remove it without any real trouble. She's up and she's asking to see you."
"Thank God!" Carrie said under her breath.
Tommy followed the doctor closely, obviously wishing he would walk a little faster.
Spider sat down next to Carrie and was silent.
"They didn't find anybody, did they?" Spider asked.
"No, but . . . "
"And the men who went after Tommy yesterday on the dock?"
"No. What does that have to do . . . Someone just tried to kill me!"
"Shush," Spider ordered. She lowered her voice. "It's them, Carrie. It has to be them."
She looked at the cop who was supposed to be guarding Carrie. Spider didn't recognize him, he felt OK. Wasn't worried, didn't seem hostile, but that didn't mean he wasn't one of them, either. You just couldn't be sure.
"You can't trust anyone, Carrie. Remember that."
Spider had insisted on seeing Laura. Carrie hadn't been sure it was such a good idea. Spider had been acting weird even for Spider, but now she was acting perfectly "Spider" normal, which was almost scarier.
Laura looked tired, but seemed otherwise to be fine. Carrie remembered the last time she had visited someone in the hospital. Then it had been Spider who was shot. She decided she definitely did not like guns.
"I know it probably has something to do with the fact that I'm higher than a kite, but it really doesn't hurt that much at all," Laura said.
"Technology has certainly advanced since the first time I got shot, I can tell you that," Spider said. "Took me about half the time to heal this last time.
"Well, isn't that nice!" Tommy glared at Spider. "My wife is not going to make a habit out of getting shot."
"I didn't say she was," Spider said.
"I have to get back to work." Carrie started for the door.
"You're fucking kidding, right!" Spider screamed. "Some lunatic may be trying to shoot you, and you're going back to work?"
Carrie was a little shocked at Spider's outburst, but managed to keep her cool. "I'm the DA. I have to go back to work. I'll have police escort and full time security now. I may be hard-headed, but never let it be said that I don't learn from my mistakes."
Spider nodded
Carrie kissed her cheek and then left.
Spider sighed. She looked at Tommy. He looked scared, and Tommy never looked scared. It was more than a little unnerving.
"I wonder if you can get this shit legally?" Laura said looking at her good hand as if she were seeing it in a whole new light.
The phone rang. Tommy answered it. "Hello . . . " He pulled the receiver away from his ear and looked at it. Then gave Spider a puzzled look.
"It's for you." He handed her the phone.
Spider took it as her stomach finished flipping over.
"Yes?"
"A little to my right, and that could be your old lady laying there or in a coffin somewhere. It's all up to you, fly girl. You can give us what we want, or you can watch us pick off your friends one at a time. It's your decision."
Spider walked away from the bed and whispered. "Midnight, same place we met last time. I'll be alone, you be alone, too. I see anybody, and I'm way out of there."
"Sorry can't do that. I'm not about to go in there and let you rip my fucking head off. I'll have people there—lots of people. But they'll stay back as long as you behave yourself."
"No deal," Spider said.
"You don't get to deal, chick. You don't have any bargaining power left. The boys at the top are getting tired of dicking with you. They're ready to play hardball, and I don't think you're up for the pitch."
Spider looked from Tommy to Laura. "All right."
She walked over and hung up the phone.
"What was that?" Tommy asked.
"I need to talk to you," Spider said.
Tommy didn't ask why, he just followed her out of the room.
"What's wrong?"
"No one was trying to shoot Carrie. They're afraid to shoot Carrie, or at least that's what I'm counting on. They shot Laura on purpose to make a point."
"For God's sake! Give them this guy," Tommy said, shaking her till her teeth rattled.
"It's not that easy. If I give them what they want, then I become expendable. We all become expendable. These aren't the sort of people who ever leave lose ends. You have to get Laura and get the hell out of town tomorrow morning first thing. Pack your car and tomorrow morning when you check her out you just keep going. I don't think they'll try anything in the hospital, but . . . Just go, and don't tell anyone where you are going. Don't let anyone follow you, either. Make damn sure you don't have any tracers or links on you. You'll also have to get into the lieutenant's office and take yourself off line."
"This is all crazy. I can't do this. I can't give up my life."
"Then you're asking me to give up mine in a very permanent way, because at this point the only way I can protect you if you won't protect yourself is to put a bullet in my own brain. And even that's not a safe bet if they think you know too much."
"This is all crazy. This can't be happening."
"But it is. Please, Tommy . . . "
"All right, all right, I believe you. It's insane, but I believe you."
"Then you'll do it?"
"I'll do it."
Carrie couldn't remember when Spider had been any more loving than she had been this evening, and when they had made love it had been a truly religious experience. Now Spider was holding her so tightly that it was almost uncomfortable.
"Laura's shooting today . . . It really scared you, didn't it?" Carrie asked.
"It changes everything," Spider said quietly. She released Carrie and got slowly out of bed. She walked towards the bathroom and turned as she got to the door. "You know I love you, don't you?"
"Yes, I do," Carrie said.
"That I never want to be anywhere without you?"
"And I never want to be anywhere without you. What does this have to do with anything, Baby?" Carrie asked.
"You never know what's going to happen, and I just wanted you to know." She went in the bathroom and got in the shower.
"What the hell are you doing?" Carrie asked from the doorway.
"In all the confusion I forgot to tell you that they put me back on line today. I've got to go to work." Spider stepped out of the shower and started to dry off.
"Oh, that really sucks! I mean, I'm glad this shit is over, but this sucks. The middle of the night?"
"Tommy was on stakeout on the docks. He's with Laura now, so . . . " Spider shrugged and started to get dressed.
Carrie looked at her wishing that she could see what Spider was feeling for a change. "Be careful."
"I will be." Spider hugged her tight, kissed her, and then headed out of the house.
Carrie followed her. "It's a little cool," Carrie said. "You sure you're wearing enough clothes?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine." Spider smiled at her. "Take care of yourself, Carrie."
"You take care of yourself, Honey." Carrie closed the door after her. "Hmmm." She'd almost gotten shot today, so she supposed it would be more peculiar if Spider were just taking it all in stride.
Spider looked down at him lying there helplessly.
This time of night there weren't many people around. There was an eerie quiet to the room—to the whole hospital.
She hadn't turned the light on, really no need to. She could see him well enough in the glow from the streetlights coming in the window.
"Well, Henry, this is it. This is the last time I'll ever see you. I've got to go, and it's not easy to do." She wiped a tear from her eye. "To go, to leave everybody you care about behind, to step into God only knows what. All I really know is that it's not going to be good. I hope . . . no, I pray I'm doing the right thing, because I'm not sure I know what that is anymore . . . Goodbye, Henry."
She put her hand over his mouth and held his nose closed with her thumb and forefinger. He convulsed once, twice, and then he lay still. She put her head to his chest; there was no heartbeat. He was gone. Right or wrong, it was over.
"Good luck, Henry, old man."
He had been bound to one place for so long. Now he was finally moving, moving from this warm, welcome place out there into the unknown. Yet he wasn't afraid. He was ready for a change, no matter what that change was.
It was tight and uncomfortable and more than a little scary, and then, just as he was about to panic, he pushed out the other side into the light. Strong firm hands grasped him and pulled him into the world. They wiped him off with towels. It felt good to be touched. Felt good to feel. Then they wrapped him up and handed him to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was crying.
"He's the most perfect baby I've ever seen." She held him close to her bosom, and he felt her warmth. "I love you more than anything in the world, Albert."
A man bent over him then and took his hand. "Do you realize how long we've been waiting for you, little guy?"
Not as long as I have been waiting for you.
It was twelve fifteen. Where the fuck was she? Kirk looked around; she was nowhere in sight. He could see his men all around him. They kept contacting him through his link, letting him know constantly that she had not even entered the park yet.
"She's not going to bite." That was Jason for the thirteenth time that night.
"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Kirk hissed.
"I see her!" That was Ted at position one. "She's alone, she's coming your way."
Spider got slowly out of the car. She took a deep breath, let it out and headed for the meeting place at an even pace.
She saw the slimy So-what-if guy and snarled. He was the embodiment of all that she hated. A lazy, deceitful, disloyal, backstabbing monster whose only ambition was to get higher and higher up the food chain so that he could devour all those below him.
Tonight he felt bloated with power. Tonight he looked at her and saw a battle he was about to win. He was smug and without compassion.
Spider smiled smugly as she walked on. She got about ten feet from him before he put his hands up.
"That's close enough, Webb," Kirk announced. When she started to move forward anyway, she could hear the cocking of weapons all around her. Damn! There was a shit pot load of them. Still, she had expected nothing less. She looked at him closely and smiled. His nose was taped, and from the way he was standing she must have really done a job on those ribs.
"You're a frightened, evil, wicked little piece of shit, aren't ya?"
He laughed at her, which wasn't a good idea. She didn't like to be laughed at.
"Just tell us who he is and we can dispose of all this unpleasantness and both go back to our lives."
She laughed at him then. When she stopped it was obvious that she was not pleased. "We all know that when I tell you what you want to know I become expendable. But I can promise you this. Neither one of us will be going back to our lives."
"No more games, Webb. You give us this guy or we take everybody else."
"Did it ever occur to you that I might be willing to die to keep my secret? To protect the people I love." She pulled her gun then and stuck it to her head.
Kirk backed up, seeing any chances for advancement going up in smoke if this crazy woman pulled the trigger.
"All you have to do is give us the Fry Guy. Give him to us and you can have your life back. That's a promise."
Spider lowered her gun. "A promise from a man like you means nothing." She smiled at him. "But I'll tell you what you want to know. It's me. I'm the Fry Guy."
"You! You had alibis every time someone was killed!"
She laughed. "Not every time. Besides, who alibied me? Carrie, Tommy . . . " She let out a bellow of maniacal laughter. "I just gave them a little push, and they never knew I left."
"This is bull shit! This is bullshit! You're not the Fry Guy."
"Oh, yes. Yes, I am."
Kirk felt a tightness in his brain—a heat. He started running backwards. "Oh God! Oh God noooo!" His brain exploded in his head, and he fell to the earth in a limp pile. A guy she'd seen crouching behind a tree was next, and then the man walking by the dumpster. He was clearing her way, and all she had to do was run. She took off at full tilt boogey. They gave chase. A man barred her way briefly. Then he dropped his weapon, grabbed his head and screamed as his head made a strange popping sound. He staggered and fell, and Spider cleared his body easily. She was almost to the car. If she made it to the car she was practically home free.
Then something hit her in the neck, and suddenly the distance to the car was impossible. As she staggered and then fell she didn't have to wonder what had hit her. Damn! She hadn't counted on tranquilizer darts.
Robby sighed. She hadn't made it. Damn it! That changed everything. Move to plan two. He stopped frying people as soon as he saw her go down. He watched helplessly as the men who had been all over the park now ran to her side. Two vans pulled up, and men in lab coats got out of one. They put Spider Webb into a straightjacket, then they put a bucket-looking thing over her head. He knew instantly what the helmet was for, because his mental link to Spider was severed immediately. They hauled her back into one of the vans with them, then the SWTF men loaded their dead into the other van, got in themselves and roared off.
When Robby was sure they were all gone he crawled down out of the tree he'd been in for hours. He took only a second to stretch his tired limbs, then he ran to the car, jumped in the driver's seat and took off. He turned the switch on the box next to him and it started to blip. Now he wouldn't lose Spider.
Of course, he might not find her, either.
Tommy didn't leave the hospital. Nothing at home was important enough to risk the fact that it might be bugged. All that mattered now was survival.
He wasn't waiting till tomorrow. Wasn't taking any chances.
He watched Laura sleeping. She hadn't protested his staying, and he hadn't had too much trouble talking a nurse into loaning him some scrubs to wear to sleep in. They'd brought him a cot, but he wouldn't be using it.
He looked at the clock. It was one in the morning. Things were quiet on this floor. Not too many people around. He looked out into the hallway—not a soul in sight. He stepped out and headed for the ER. As luck would have it, there had been a four-car pileup and the joint was jumping. In the excitement no one took notice of one more person in scrubs running around doing things.
Back in Laura's room he checked on her. She was still sleeping soundly. He went into the bathroom and locked the door. Then he pulled the pillowcase from the top of his pants and took his stolen stash from inside it, stacking it along the top of the sink.
He pulled his hair up and, using surgical tape, taped it away from his implant. He gave himself a shot of Lydocaine to deaden the area, and then he took the scalpel and cut a single line across the top of the small lump. Using tweezers he pulled the implant from his skin. He ran it under the water, holding it in his hand all the time. He made sure it was in the on position, and then he taped it to his arm. Only then did he see to the wound. He used surgical glue to close it, smeared it with antibiotic ointment, and dressed it. His hair barely covered his haphazard bandaging job. He quickly cleaned up the mess he had made, making use of the biohazards bin he had filled earlier with the clothes he'd been wearing. This done, he headed down the hall towards the extended care ward.
The name on the door said that his name was Brian Green. According to his chart, he had just received a heart transplant and was doing well. He was due to be in the hospital at least two more weeks. That made him the perfect candidate.
He opened Mr. Green's robe, and the guy woke up. He looked straight at Tommy, and Tommy smiled.
"What the hell?" Brian Green asked.
"I'm sorry, Sir, I tried not to wake you. Dr. Parker asked me to put a monitoring device on your back . . . Just in case."
"In case of what?" the man asked in a panic.
Tommy smiled in a concerned fashion. "You know, just in case. Could you roll onto your side?"
The man did so without another question, and Tommy quickly taped his link securely on the man's back.
"That was it. You can go back to sleep now. I'm sorry." Tommy left, shutting off the light. He sighed with relief and headed back down the hall, grabbing a wheelchair on the way.
Well, so far so good.
Back in Laura's room he shook her gently till she woke up. She smiled at him in a way that let him know that she was still druggy. "We playing doctor, Honey?"
"Yes." He picked her up and put her into the wheelchair he'd brought back with him. "We're going for a ride." He covered her with one of the blankets off her bed.
"What's going on, Tommy?" Laura asked. She wasn't so out of it that she couldn't tell there was something wrong.
"You were right and I was wrong. That should make you very happy, so just shut up and sit still."
He looked both ways before he rolled her out into the hall, so he jumped more than a little when someone called out.
"You there!"
Tommy looked over his shoulder and saw a short, fat nurse with a face that looked like it had been hit with a shovel, heading towards them.
"What's that, Sir?" he asked.
She caught up with them. "What in God's name are you doing? It's one thirty in the morning. Patients are supposed to be in their rooms."
"Where are we going, Tommy?" Laura asked.
Tommy shot the nurse a half smile. "Escaped from the psych ward. She thinks I'm her husband," he whispered.
"You are my husband," Laura said.
"You'd think they could keep these damn whackos locked up. Should have known you were from Psych when I didn't recognize your face. Sorry to bother you."
"No problem."
She went on her way, and Tommy all but ran to the service elevator.
It opened right next to the rear exit, and they were out of the building. He started to breathe again when he saw the car. He rolled Laura over to it. Bud opened the door and helped Tommy put Laura into the car.
"Can you tell me what the hell is going on?" Bud asked.
Tommy didn't answer; he just ran the wheelchair back inside. He ran back a few minutes later and jumped in the back seat with Laura.
"What's going on, Tommy?"
"I can't tell ya, because I really don't know. I just know that someone is trying to kill Laura and I. Now just drive."
Bud didn't have to be told twice.
"You get the clothes like I asked ya?" Tommy asked.
"Yeah. They're in that sack sitting in the floor, but . . . They ain't gonna fit."
"That doesn't matter." Tommy got in the sack and dug the clothes out. He put them on over what he was wearing.
"Where the hell you want me to go?" Bud asked.
Tommy was watching out the rear window to see if they had picked up a tail. So far it looked clear.
"Tommy?"
"Take me on into Franklin."
"Franklin! Tommy that's a two-hour drive one way! I'll never get home on time. She'll make my life a living hell . . . She'll . . . "
"If you don't help us, Bud, we're going to be dead. Tell her you had to work late . . . "
"If she calls work and finds out I didn't even come in, my life won't be worth living."
"And it is now?" Tommy helped Laura dress, not an easy task with her arm in a sling.
"No . . . "
"Then what have you got to lose?" Tommy asked.
"And he scores!" Bud laughed. "OK, Tommy. Franklin it is, then. I tell the bitch I had to work late. If she finds out I didn't go to work, I tell her I'm having a fucking affair. What's the worst she can do, leave?"
Tommy allowed himself to get some sleep. When Bud shook him awake, the bone behind his ear was throbbing. The wire from the implant had been stuck into the bone—that's how you could hear with the damn thing. Now Tommy was wondering if he'd gotten all of the wire out.
"What now?" Bud asked.
Tommy sat up and looked around trying to get his bearings. He rubbed his eyes.
"You'll drive us to a car rental place where you will rent us a white sedan. You will get the extra insurance. You will rent it for two days. We'll leave in the white sedan, and you'll go home." Tommy handed him some money. "Tomorrow you will drive your car to a parking lot within walking distance of a Wal-Mart. Don't take a cab, and don't let anyone see you walk in. You will shop at Wal-Mart for about forty-five minutes, and when you walk out into the parking lot, go to any empty spot and start screaming that your car has been stolen. Then you call it in. By then I should be long gone, and since they can't find the white sedan, they will have to believe you."
"Which it has been—by you!" Bud screamed. "I can't do that! You're a fucking cop, for Christ's sake!"
"Which is why I know how to commit a crime without getting caught. Now come on, move it. Remember, not till tomorrow."
"If you say so . . . Am I going to go to jail?" Bud asked.
"I'm stealing the car, Bud, so don't worry about it," Tommy said. "By the way, Bud, that thing I gave you?"
"The top secret thing?"
"Yeah. Now listen close, this is what I want you to do . . . "
Spider was waking up. Her feet kicked out from the curled position they had been in and hit the side of something cold and metal. It hurt because someone had taken her shoes.
"Be still or you'll hurt yourself," someone said.
She could hardly hear them; it was like listening through water, and . . . She couldn't feel anyone. She kicked the cage again to see if he would talk again.
"Please be still, or we'll have to sedate you," he said.
"What the fuck have you done to me!" she screamed. She couldn't see anything. There was something on her head. She tried to take it off, and that was when she realized that her hands were bound—and bound good. "Take this fucking thing off my head."
"Must be horrible for her," another one said, obviously talking to the first one or a whole bunch of them. She didn't know how many. "Imagine going your whole life being able to feel those around you, then to be suddenly cut off. It would be as if we were blind."
"Well I can't see shit, either, you stupid dick, but I can still hear so you can quit talking about me as if I can't. Take this thing off my head." Her screaming reverberated in her own ears. She could handle being tied up, even caged, but this thing on her head was driving her nuts. It was some kind of psychic screen to stop her from using her "powers." Her stomach grumbled and she remembered the transmitter she had swallowed a few hours ago. Hopefully, Robby hadn't done something stupid and gotten himself caught. Hopefully, he was following and would think of some way to save her ass. Because right now it was real obvious that she couldn't help herself.
She tried to scrape the helmet off on the floor, but it was connected to her head by some chinstrap that she couldn't get off because she couldn't get her hands on it.
"Why don't you just kill me!" she screamed, and started banging her head on the floor. They sedated her again.
They walked into Sears and did something they had never done before. They charged as if there were no tomorrow. Then they hit several other stores, doing the same thing before they hit the open road going back the way they had come.
The car was loaded to the top of the seats.
He would use cash from now on. The plastic trail would lead the SWTF to Franklin while he was going in the opposite direction. He had to explain all this to Laura.
Laura nodded. She was tired and her shoulder hurt. She'd felt like an idiot shopping for clothes while wearing one of Bud's four hundred pound wife's dresses. Of course she had looked like an idiot, too. Not that Tommy looked much better wearing six foot four inch, two hundred fifty pound Bud's clothes. She looked down at the jeans and sweater that she was wearing now. She looked better, but the little shopping spree had worn her completely out. Not really astonishing considering she'd been shot the day before.
"I'm sure that I don't want to know, but . . . Just how much money did we spend this morning?" Laura asked, trying to get comfortable.
"I purposely didn't keep track."
"Are we . . . I know this is stupid because we're running for our lives, but are we going to lose our house, our cars . . . I mean if we can't make payments . . . I guess none of that matters as long as we're alive and together."
"It does matter," Tommy said bitterly. "Of course it's more important that we are alive and together, but these bastards have no right to take everything that we have worked for, and Spider . . . God only knows what will happen to her, and for what? No one knows, not even Spider knows. She may be dead already. Well, they haven't seen the end of Tommy Chan. I will run and hide because that is the best thing to do right now, but then I will rise up and strike, and they won't know what hit them."