Infringement Page 12

  A total of four thin reddish cords hung down from the Vitruvian Man, one from each hand and one from each foot. Declan shined the beam of light on the cord beginning in the left hand and slowly followed it down three feet or so until the light reached the hook and the ball. Declan examined the ball closely in the light.

  “Oh my God,” he exclaimed.

  Declan’s hand began to tremble with a surge of fearful, yet excited, energy. He quickly shined the jittery light on the ends of the other cords and saw that each held a human eyeball.

  “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, dammit.”

  In a nervous rush, he reached into his coat pocket, fumbling and dropping the flashlight on the carpeted floor, as he tried to take out his cell phone.

  “I’ve got to call Bleeker or Kevin. I’ve got this bastard. I’ve got him. I knew I was right about this guy.”

  Declan took out his phone, and quickly holstered his weapon so he could dial Kevin Cameron’s number. He rushed to type in the seven digits. As he waited for the first ring, Declan walked a few steps toward where his flashlight had fallen, next the laptop on the floor. The phone rang once, then twice, as he knelt down to pick up his flashlight. As the phone rang a third time, Declan shuttered, again dropping the flashlight, when he saw Megan and his mom walking to their seats on David Stanton’s laptop.

  “Cameron here.”

  Declan stood silently, watching the video feed of Megan and his mom, along with hundreds of others in the congregation, take their seats for the Christmas Eve service.

  “Declan?”

  He hung up the phone and, in a panicked dash, bolted from the darkness of the apartment back out into the cold twilight of the late afternoon.

  Chapter 31

  December 24th

  As he’d done countless times in his mind, David Stanton stepped out of his parked SUV at precisely 5:10, clad in his crisp black suit. A few late arriving congregants were still making their way inside the church, but, for the most part, the parking lot was empty. Stanton took a calm look around, taking the crisp night air deeply into his lungs.

  Finally standing at the doorstep of history filled him with exhilaration and a thorough sense of accomplishment and pride. He’d been focused and taken what was once merely an idea, a daydream of sorts, and through imagination, work and perseverance, crafted it into reality. At that moment, nearly alone in the church parking lot, David Stanton was filled to the brim with a feeling that was entirely foreign to him up to that point in his life: pride.

  He looked down at his watch and saw that it read 5:11:05, and casually walked to the back of his SUV.

  _______________________

  Declan was awash with panic as he weaved left and right, from one lane to the other, hurriedly dodging traffic with one hand on the steering wheel and the other repeatedly dialing Megan and Evan’s cell phones while listening to the police scanner in his car.

  “C’mon, answer the stupid phone, Megan. C’mon and pick up.”

  Despite his pleas, Megan’s phone went to voicemail again. “Megan, I’m on my way back and I’m not sure what’s going on. I think Stanton is at the church, so if you get this, get mom, Evan and everyone outside right away. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  He hung up and tried Evan’s phone again, but it went straight to voicemail, so he didn’t waste time leaving a message. The clock on Declan’s digital dashboard display read 5:18. Just a few minutes away, he thought. Just five more minutes.

  _______________________

  “Christmas Eve service is always a bittersweet experience for me,” the pastor began. Megan nervously scanned the packed sanctuary for Declan. Not seeing him, she looked again at her watch and grew moderately annoyed at how late he was. The pastor continued, “I say that because, while it brings me great joy to see so many faces, familiar and unfamiliar, here tonight, on this Christmas Eve, to celebrate the birth of our glorious Savior, it also saddens me that we don’t get such a large turn out every Sunday, every day for that matter.”

  “What is it about the Christmas season that makes it so special? People are generally a little kinder, a little more thoughtful, a little more joyful. In short, we’re a little less selfish this time of year and a little more focused on Christ. This is the part of Christmas that gives me great joy. However, that joy is tempered with a touch of sadness, because it seems to take this holiday to bring out our more selfless qualities when, in truth, as Christians, as the undeserving recipients of God’s grace through the blood of His son, Jesus, who’s very name means ‘He Saves’, shouldn’t every day be Christmas? Not in the sense of giving gifts and all that stuff, which is fine, but in the sense of applying the selflessness of Christmas to our daily lives and interactions with those around us. What if, just what if, we treated every day like we treat today and tomorrow? What if we truly loved our neighbors as we love ourselves?”

  _______________________

  At 5:20, and right on schedule, Stanton finished locking the main entrance to the church from the outside, leaving no unlocked exit, other than the rarely used back door, for anyone inside the church. As he turned, he saw a young man and woman, likely in their early-twenties, walking up the sidewalk to the front door.

  “Hurry,” the girl said. “We’re really late.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Stanton looked down at his watch, which read 5:20:45.

  “Merry Christmas,” the girl said as she approached him.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re too late. We’re not letting anyone else in tonight.”

  “Really? But my family is inside. Can’t you just let us in?”

  “I’m sorry. I suggest you try the next service.”

  “This is stupid. C’mon babe, let’s just try one of the side doors,” the young guy said to his girlfriend. “This guy’s just a janitor or something.”

  “Fine, let’s go,” she replied.

  “Those are locked too,” Stanton offered, but the pair ignored him and headed for one of the other locked entrances. David Stanton looked at his watch again, which read 5:21:30, and began to get agitated.

  “Here, wait, I’ll open this door for you,” he called out.

  The pair quickly turned around and made their way back through the cold toward the front entrance as Stanton placed his black bags on the concrete and reached inside his coat.

  “That’s what I thought,” the guy snorted.

  “Let me just get the keys out,” he said as they came close.

  “Thank you,” the girl said. “I really appreciate it.”

  “What’s with the chain on the doors?”

  With his hunting knife drawn, Stanton turned swiftly and plunged the knife deep into the guy’s chest, dropping him instantly onto the frigid concrete path. The girl squeaked as Stanton grabbed her by the throat with both hands, stifling her scream in its infancy, and took her violently down to the ground. He kept one hand wrapped tightly around her throat and grabbed her hair with the other and in three quick successions, slammed her head against the pavement until she was no longer conscious.

  David Stanton stood back up, looked over the ground at the dead and dying, and looked again at his watch: 5:22:20. Having no time to move or hide his victims, Stanton hurriedly picked up his black bags and ran around the building toward the back entrance.

  Chapter 32

  December 24th

  Declan raced into the parking lot just in time to see Stanton’s silhouette rushing away from the front of the church. He slammed the car to a stop, jumped out and sprinted to the front door, where he saw the couple left for dead on the walkway. The girl was still breathing, but only barely, while the guy appeared dead.

  He quickly scanned the locked entrance and, making a split-second decision, drew his weapon and ran as fast as he could around the church in the direction he’d seen Stanton go seconds earlier. As Declan neared the turn toward the back entrance of the church, he slowed down and ducked into a dark niche to catch his breath and further asses
s the situation.

  Peering through the growing darkness, he made out Stanton’s crouching silhouette about twenty-five feet ahead, near the back door to the church. Stanton appeared to be facing away from Declan, reaching into one of the two large black duffle bags. Declan crept slowly and quietly along the cold stone wall, inching closer to Stanton in the darkness with his weapon ready.

  _______________________

  Stanton attached and fastened the chest harness, on which his mobile GoPro camera was mounted, over the tactical vest and turned on the video function. Then Stanton withdrew the first AR-15 from the black bag and smoothly inserted the sixty-round clip into the rifle. He slung it over his left shoulder and looked again at his watch, which read 5:24:01. Reaching into the bag again, he removed the second AR-15, along with the one hundred-round drum magazine and quickly loaded the weapon.

  “My time is now,” he said aloud into the chilling night air. “The great work of Abaddon shall begin now. Give me strength and focus, great Destroyer, as I fulfill the task I’ve been charged to undertake.”

  Stanton looked down at his watch once more: 5:25:03. “I’m ready.”

  _______________________

  Declan watched Stanton intently as he crept against the wall toward him, closing within fifteen feet or so when he heard Stanton say, “I’m ready,” and saw him move to open the back door, with the loaded AR-15 in his left hand. Declan thought of Megan and his family sitting inside the church and, acting on a reckless impulse, jumped forward from the wall with his weapon drawn and aimed directly at David Stanton and yelled, “Don’t move, Stanton.”

  David Stanton shuddered at the unexpected sound of Declan’s voice breaking through the still night air and removed his right hand from the door as he turned in Declan’s direction.

  “I said don’t move,” Declan yelled again. “Put the rifle on the ground slowly and step back from the door.”

  Stanton stood staring through the darkness at Declan, barely able to make out his face, but he could see Declan’s sidearm pointed at him as Declan moved slowly closer.

  “I can’t do that. This is my destiny. It’s my way back. You’re not going to take this from me. I won’t let you.”

  “Put your weapon down, Stanton!”

  Suddenly, an explosion jolted the still tension surrounding them, causing Declan to flinch. Stanton moved to raise the AR-15 and Declan instinctively squeezed one round from his 9mm. Two shots rang almost simultaneously through the night, and less than a second later, Declan felt an excruciating searing heat rip though his upper torso, just below his left shoulder, and throw him to the ground with a degree of force and violence he had never before experienced. His weapon fell a few feet away as his body hit the cold pavement with a jolting thud.

  Each of Declan’s senses were overloaded, blurring everything as he lay on the ground with heavily-labored breathes, feeling the unbearable pain pulsating throughout his body. Declan’s thoughts raced uncontrollably toward his own death, then to Megan and his family. David Stanton’s image flashed through his mind and he rolled over to try and see the back door, to see if he’d hit Stanton, or if he’d failed everyone inside. Straining to focus, for just a second, immediately before everything went black, Declan clearly saw David Stanton’s unmoving body lying about ten feet away, and his lifeless open eyes staring back at him through the night.

  Chapter 33

  December 24th

  “He’s dead,” said Special Agent Costello as he stood over David Stanton’s body.

  John Bleeker walked over to the body and peered down at Stanton’s still bleeding corpse. He called over to Kevin Cameron, “Cameron, what about Parker?”

  Kevin had knelt down close to Declan and was able to make out very faint breathes coming from him. “Declan’s still alive, but not by much. We need to get him help, fast.”

  “Time is short, Cameron. In a few minutes this place is going to be crawling with uniforms and first responders. We don’t do anything until I get everything straight,” Bleeker said taking out his secure phone.

  “Man, the kid is a good shot,” Costello said. “Look at that, he hit Stanton right in the jugular. The bullet went clear through. The guy never had a chance.”

  “Shhh,” Bleeker ordered. “It’s Juliet Bravo… He’s dead… Yes, it’s confirmed… an explosion, no casualties… Agreed, I believe it’s still useful, particularly with Eve 2 proceeding… Will do.”

  Bleeker hung up and put his secure phone back into his coat pocket.

  Costello asked, “What’s the plan, sir?”

  Sirens came roaring closer from all sides of the church and people could be heard outside the front of the church, most trying to figure out what was going on. “Eve 2 is already underway, and this one will serve its purpose. Costello, you and I will make certain we maintain possession of Stanton’s body and all the evidence back here. Call in backup agents and get our forensics people out here ASAP. This is a federal crime scene and I don’t want any of the locals or first responders tracking through.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Kevin Cameron looked down at Declan again, and asked Bleeker, “What about Declan?”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “Yes.”

  Voices and footsteps could be heard moving quickly toward the back of the building. “We’re seconds away from being swamped with uniforms. Get your credentials out. Get Parker an ambulance. It’s too late to deal with it any other way. We’ll get him to the hospital and, if he survives, I’ll address his situation. For now, nothing to the locals or to the press, other than that he’s FBI and he’s down. No name, no other information of any kind, period. That goes for Stanton too. No names yet. Understood?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  “Here they come,” Bleeker said. “We’re FBI, don’t shoot,” he called out in a booming voice to the approaching uniformed police officers.

  “Hands up, all of you!”

  “Okay, okay. Just keep it calm. I’m Special Agent in Charge, John Bleeker. I have my badge and credentials out for you, and we have an agent down who needs an ambulance right away.”

  _______________________

  Chaos enveloped the church. First responders and shaken, but uninjured, churchgoers were everywhere, along with the press, which had arrived in droves after they’d made the connection between the explosion and the emails from Stanton they’d been bombarded with earlier.

  Stanton’s name was out in the press, although details were vague, and Megan was frantic after listening to the various voicemails Declan had left for her on his way back from Stanton’s apartment building. Evan and Mrs. Parker tried to calm Megan, although they were both just as worried. They finally left the church around 7:30 and went to Declan’s mom’s house. Megan had spent over an hour checking her sources at Homeland for any information, when her cell phone rang.

  “Hello.”

  “Megan Neary?”

  “Yes, who is this?”

  “I work with Declan.”

  “Is he okay? Do you know where he is?”

  “He’s at St. Paul’s.”

  “Is he okay? The news is saying an officer or an agent was down. Is it Declan?”

  “He’s at St. Paul’s, Room 445. Get there now and don’t leave him alone,” the voice said, then hung up.

  “Hello. Are you still there? Hello?”

  Chapter 34

  December 26th

  After waiting by his bedside for nearly thirty-six hours, Megan finally saw Declan’s eyes open slightly, taking in just a glimpse of the brightly-lit hospital room, then closing again quickly. She squeezed his hand excitedly and, for the first time, he responded with a light squeeze of his own.

  “Megan,” he whispered.

  “I’m right here, babe. I’m right here.”

  Declan tried to open his eyes once again, but the light in the room was too much of a shock for him and he quickly closed them again. Megan got up and turned off the main room lights while turning on on
ly the light in the bathroom, making the room substantially darker.

  “Here, babe, maybe that will help,” she said softly.

  Declan’s eyes opened a third time, ever so slightly, but they were finally able to stay open and gradually take in Megan and the hospital room. He asked, “Where am I?”

  “You’re at St. Paul’s. They brought you here on Christmas Eve.”

  “What day is it?”

  “It’s the twenty-sixth, the day after Christmas.”

  “I’ve been out for two days?”

  “Almost. You were shot just below the collarbone, in your shoulder area. You hit your head really hard on the pavement when you went down. The doctors say you’re going to be just fine though, with some rest. They got the bullet out.”

  “What about Stanton?”

  “He’s dead. He was shot outside the church.”

  “So he didn’t get anyone inside?”

  “Nope. You guys apparently got him outside, before he could do any real damage.”

  “What do you mean by you guys?”

  “The FBI, you and the other agents on the scene.”

  “There were no other agents. It was just me. I shot Stanton and he shot me, just after the explosion.”

  “That’s not what the news reports are saying, Declan. They’re saying the FBI had him under investigation and was able to take him out before he could complete it. Bleeker has been interviewed numerous times already. They were able to stop Stanton, but there was another mass shooting down in Alabama on Christmas Eve. He says the FBI is investigating to determine whether there is a connection.”

  Declan was exhausted and somewhat groggy from the pain medication he’d been put on, but he wrestled to try and sit somewhat upright.