Lies Among Us
READ DISCLAIMERS IN CHAPTER 1
Copyright 2000 by Mythe. All rights reserved.
“KNOCK…KNOCK…KNOCK!!!” echoed throughout the apartment.
I opened my eyes on the third knock, taking in an eyeful of a naked Angel. Who by the way, was sleeping peacefully beneath me. “Damn…” I grumbled softly, trying not to wake her as I climbed out of bed, grabbing my boxers and exiting into the living room. I reached for the door and realized that I was showing my assets. It's too early to give a show to anyone… “For the Love of God…” I picked up Sam's shirt and put it on. I opened the door and growled, “What do you want?”
A FedEx man greeted me with a smile and spoke up, “I have a package for a Detective Rineheart.”
“Good,” he acknowledged, handing me a pocket pilot and light pen. “Please sign your name here.”
“Alright,” I said, signed my name and handed it back.
“There you go, Ma'am.” He then, gave me a medium sized box.
“Thank you,” I took the package and closed the door. I moved over to the couch, ripping it open and looked inside. There was a manila envelope and a jewel case for a CD. I sat down, pulled the CD case out and opened it. It revealed a DVD, with a post-it note pasted to it. Reading it aloud, “Keep this in a safe place.” What in the hell… I sat the DVD down and moved on to the envelope.
“Good morning, Babe…” Sam greeted, hugging me from behind and planting a kiss on my cheek.
“Morning, Angel…” I responded, with a kiss of my own.
“I'm going to make some coffee,” Sam informed, grabbing my shirt and putting it on. She then moved into the kitchen. “Would you like some?”
“Sure…” I nodded, opening it.
“Would you like a breakfast bar?”
“Sure, what kind do you have?”
“Apple cinnamon, Strawberry or Cherry.”
“I'll take Strawberry,” I replied, pulling out an 8 x 10 color photo. It was a close-up of an attractive gentleman in his late 30's, short dark hair and alluring blue eyes. He was staring directly at the photographer, oblivious of the fact that he had been photographed. I swallowed hard and flipped the photo over, revealing a processing date. “MAR-2-1989,” I read and turned it back over. “Why?”
Sam noticed the look on my face and inquired, “Taylor, what's wrong?”
“Ummm…I don't know,” I expressed, as I continued to stare at it.
She sat down next to me, “Let me take a look.”
I handed the photo to her, “Okay.”
Sam stared at it for a moment, taking it in. She looked over at me then, back at the photo. “This is your father isn't?”
I nodded, yes.
“You know you can tell me anything-”
“I know, Sam…” I acknowledged and revealed, “My father was a Special Agent for the FBI. He was a profiler for them. My father and Jack were in a pursuit of a serial killer. They chased him into an abandoned factory and began their search. Once inside, they split up…to cover more ground. Jack was attacked by the killer and in self-defense he shot and killed the man. He realized that my father was nowhere to be seen and went in search of him. Jack found his body. He was laying face down in a large pool of blood.” I took a deep breath and exhaled, “My father's throat had been slit from ear to ear.”
“Oh, my God…” she voiced, wiping the tears from her eyes. “That's just so horrible.”
“Yes, it is…” I agreed and finished, “My father died March 2, 1989.”
“I'm so sorry…”
“Flip the photo over.”
“Huh?” she muttered, turning it over and read the date. “It's the same date.”
“Someone's brought my father's death into this…”
“Taylor, I'm so sorry…”
I turned to my Angel and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Sam, it's alright…” I assured and enlightened, “It's been awhile and I've done my share of mourning. I realized that he's now with my mother.”
Sam placed her hand upon my knee, “Rachel, told me about your mother.”
“My mother was beautiful,” I expressed, remembering her beauty and the damned illness that took her away. “She had been ill ever since I could remember, though.”
“What were their names?”
“Catherine and Hunter,” I replied and whispered, “They were good people and didn't deserve to die.”
“That's so tragic,” she stated and expressed, “They would be proud of you.”
I turned to her and replied, “I don't know about that.”
“I believe so,” Sam acknowledged, “You grew up to be a strong and honorable woman. Not to mention the fact that you're gorgeous, with a heart of gold.” She caressed my jaw line and decreed, “I'm honored to have someone like you in my life.”
A blush overcame me and finally I found my voice. “Sam we're both lucky…” I spoke up, leaning over and placed a kiss upon the tip of her nose. “Thank you.”
“What else did you get?”
I pointed towards the DVD, “By some chance, do you have a DVD player?”
“But of course,” she said, moving over to the TV and brought over her keyboard. She sat it on the coffee table and inquired, “Can I have the DVD?”
“Sure,” I grinned, handing it to her.
“Thanks,” Sam said and moved to the computer tower that sat next to the TV. She placed the DVD into the it's player and asked, “Can you turn the TV on?”
“All right,” I acknowledged and turned it on.
Sam came back over and sat down next to me. She typed in a command and pressed enter.
The screen flashed to life, revealing surveillance footage. The camera observed the lab techs pushing three large cages, each held a naked individual. They were spread eagle and strapped against the bars, unconscious. After it panned in closer, I could make out two out of the three.
“Damnittohell,” I grumbled, recognizing the two males.
“What is it, Taylor?”
“The first one is a Corporal Jenkins. He witnessed Mike's crash…he was brought into the CID's headquarters at the same time as I was,” I revealed and continued, “I've never seen the woman before, but the third one… Sergeant Kevin Becker. He was a friend of Mike's,” sighing at this moment, “Kevin warned me about Area 51 and he's the one who contacted Jenkins.Everything happened so fast and I didn't realize that he was missing. Damnit, this is all my fault.”
“NO,” she decreed, placing her hand upon my knee. “It's not your fault, Taylor. So, stop beating yourself up about it.”
I nodded and focused back to the TV. No matter what…the guilt will always be there. We sat there silently watching the footage, as the truth unfolded before us.
“MY GOD,” Sam finally uttered aloud.
“I killed Kevin…”
“In self defense,” she finished, “That wasn't Kevin anymore…it was a Monster. Besides, there were four of them and you had a fifty-fifty chance.”
“True,” I nodded, “You're right about that.”
“The question is…who would send this to you?” Sam inquired, “And wouldn't this DVD be under lock and key?”
“I would think so,” I replied and remarked, “Who knew where to find me?”
“Could have sent it before,” I finished, “Jack would've of told me.”
“Is there anyone else?”
“I don't know,” I shrugged, “And what's my father's death have to do with this?”
“Maybe he knew something…or someone.”
“I guess,” I said and suggested, “I'm going to take a quick shower.”
Sam purred, “Would you like an extra set of hands?”
“I wouldn't have it any other way,” I expressed, instantly picking her up and tossed her over my shoulder.
“HEY!” she muttered, between laughs. “Put me down!”
“As soon as we reach our destination, my Lady.” I carried her into the bedroom, past it and finally entered the bathroom. Where I gently sat my Angel down, leaned over and turned the shower on. I spun around and was about to say something, when her soft lips fell upon mine. Falling into the kiss, head over feet until finally we broke it for a much need breath. “Wow…” I gasped, noticing that she was naked again. I could so, get used to this.
Sam laughed, as she removed my clothes with ease and led me into the shower. She pulled me close, right under the showerhead and fervently kissed me.
Our bodies pressed against one another, hands roaming. The warm water sprayed upon our heated flesh, massaging it and adding to the passion. The very desire that consumed us last night; came back with a vengeance.
After our passionate lovemaking, we dressed and finally had that cup of coffee. I stood by the window, taking a small sip, as I observed some kids at play. Remembering when playing and being carefree was all that I thought about. Until the day I had to grow up and help my father raise Mike.
Sam came up from behind and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Care to talk about it?” she asked, laying her head against my back.
“About my father,” I replied, placing my hand upon hers. “It's like I'm reliving my past…my childhood.”
“If it's too hard-”
“No,” I said and expressed, “I need to let it out. It's been locked away far too long. Besides, if we were to have a relationship…I wouldn't want anything to come between us.”
Relationship…she's thinking about it too. Good, I hoped that it wasn't a one-way thing. Sam acknowledged with a hug, “Taylor, I agree.”
“I was seven at the time and Mike was three,” I revealed and began my story, “This was the time when my father was in an undercover sting somewhere. My Mom was so sick that she had to go the hospital. So, they had to bring us along.” I took in a deep breath and continued, “My Mom had all these machines hooked up to her. The Doctors would shake their heads, when they were around her, whispering. Thinking that I wouldn't notice or comprehend,” I growled, as tear rolled down my cheek. “I was seven…not an infant, like my Bubby…” I decreed, reliving every emotion from then.
Sam silently heard this, felt herself tearing up as well and tried hard to stifle them.
“We fell asleep, waiting for our Mom. When I woke, Mike had disappeared and a strange lady took his place. She told me that she was here to take me to my father and that Mike was somewhere safe. So, I went with her…” I paused, taking breath and exhaling it slowly. “She lied…she didn't know where my father was and Mike was sent to our Aunt Bella. The lady took me to Kemper Military School. I didn't want to go there…I wanted to be with my brother. She said that I needed to go to school and that this was what my mother wanted.”
“Why didn't they let stay with your Aunt?”
“My Aunt knew that I was different,” I disclosed and explained, “Somehow, she knew about me. How? I haven't a clue…I only met her once. She didn't want my TYPE in her house, nor did she even acknowledge my existence.”
Sam gasped, “THAT BITCH!”
I chuckled and finished, “Anyway, I was at Kemper for four years. I kept sending out letters, hoping that someone would write back…nothing. So, the only thing that saved me from the isolation, despair and fear, were my studies. Each day thereafter, I became a cadet through and through. Until, the day my father arrived and took me away from my Military family. I detested that…I finally adjusted, but it was never the same. I finally found out that my Mom died the night we left.”
“Taylor, I'm so sorry…” Sam expressed, as she turned me around and gently caressed my cheek. “A child should never have gone through such an ordeal, especially you…” she decreed, “Nevertheless, it made you a stronger, wiser and compassionate person. A survivor on all accounts...my Warrior.”
I pulled her in for a much-needed hug and whispered, “Thank you.”
“I'll be right back,” Sam said, moving into her bedroom.
“Sure,” I nodded, watching her leave. And I never thought I would be able to share that part of me…with anyone, but I did and it felt good. My cell phone vibrated on and I answered, “Taylor, here.”
Sam picked the phone up and greeted, “Hello?” Silence was her reply then, a click of the receiver and a dial tone. “Oh, well…” Sam muttered, hanging the phone up.
An altered voice responded, “If you want to live…GET OUT NOW!!”
“Huh?” I voiced, feeling danger. “SAM, GET OUT!!” I shouted, placing the phone back and pulling out my .45. I bolted towards the bedroom, “Climb out the window!”
The front door was kicked in, as two armed men rushed in and began firing at me. Their weapons were equipped with silencers, reducing the sound. I dove behind the sofa, as a couple bullets whizzed by me, grabbing the DVD and the envelope. I had to get to my Sam… So, I rolled out from my cover, squeezing off two rounds and disappeared into the bedroom.
“THUMP…THUMP!!” as two bodies collapsed to the ground.
“GO GET HER!!!” a male roared.
I slammed the door shut, quickly glanced around room and ran to the open window. Bullets began to spray in from the living room and I dived out the window. Damnit…forgot that we're on the 2nd floor. Suddenly, I flipped, praying that I'd land right and didn't damage myself too much. I bent my knees when I landed, then rolled to the ground to relieve the stress on my ankles.
“COME ON!” Sam shouted, waving me to follow. “This way!”
“I'm coming…” I muttered, climbing to my feet and sprinted after her. Following her to the Beemer and prayed to the heavens above for help. I observed Sam, as she climbed into the car and started it up. She opened the door for me and shouted, “GET IN!!”
I felt a stinging sensation on my right side, as I jumped into the car. “GO!!!”
Sam pulled out and burnt rubber out of the parking lot, as if the Devil himself had been following us. When is this going to end? “What happened back there?”
I glanced back at the fading apartment complex and sighed. “I had a phone call and the caller warned me,” I revealed, “And you know the rest.” My side began to pulse on it's own accord and I reached over to feel it. Feeling moisture upon my fingers, I looked down and noticed the blood. Damnit… “What are we going to do now?”
“We have to find a place to lay low,” I advised, “Whoever's behind this knew where to find us…which means that they'll know your plates, family addresses and friends. Mine too…sonofabitch.”
“I'm afraid so,” I nodded, as my cell phone vibrated and pulled it out. “Taylor here.”
“I'm glad that you took my advice…” an altered voice greeted.
“Who are you?”
“Don't I even get a thank you?”
“Sorry,” I apologized, “Thank you…”
“Go to Henley's airfield…”
“Why, should we trust you?”
“It's only a matter of time before they find you.”
“True,” I agreed and inquired, “How do I know if YOU'RE not behind this whole thing?”
“You don't…so, trust in the fact that I may be right.”
I thought about it for a moment, realizing that I've got to protect Sam. “Go on…”
“Go to the airfield and find a Cessna jet N977N. It will be waiting for you, board it and enjoy the ride.”
“Where will it be taking us?” I probed and glanced over my Angel. “Sam, head for Henley's airfield.”
“You'll find out soon enough…Ciao,” the altered voice stated then, hung the phone up.
Turning mine off as well, placing it back in its case. “Sam, we're taking flight out of here.”
“We are?” she retorted and probed, “Was it the same person?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Do you trust them?”
I shrugged, “No, but they saved us once already…besides, it's the only plan so far.” I glanced over at her, “Unless you have a better plan.”
Sam shook her head, no. “I'm afraid not.”
“I guess we'll be taking a private jet outta here,” I stated, holstering my .45 and kept the pressure on my wound. “We're going to make it through this.”
“I know,” she said, glancing over at me. “As long as I have you around.”
“Always,” I replied, grinning.
Paramedics were in the process of stabilizing the wounded men. They finally did what they could and pushed them out the door towards their ambulance.
“WHAT?” Dr. Moore uttered aloud, as he entered Dr. Evans apartment. “There were four of you!”
“Sir, two were hit-”
Dr. Moore turned to the dark haired agent and growled, “There's no excuse…you are an NSA agent are you not?”
“FIND THEM!” he ordered, pointing to the door. “Now, get out of my sight.”
The agent and his partner hurriedly exited out the door.
Agent Turner addressed the Doctor and informed, “They climbed out the bedroom window.”
Dr. Moore glanced around the room and sarcastically stated, “Thank you for your brilliant deduction Turner…I really don't know what I would do with out you.” He moved towards the exit and decreed; “Check all the data bases in this city, everything. I want Dr. Evans and Det. Rineheart found.”
The Cessna sat parked on the runway. The door opened and the ladder was lowered, welcoming us into it.
“I guess this is it,” I said aloud, looking over at Sam. “Ready?” We approached the craft and hesitantly climbed the stairs.
“I guess…” Sam responded, grasping my hand in support.
A beautiful red head stood at the top of the stairs and greeted us, “Dr. Evans and Detective Rineheart, it's a pleasure to meet you both. My name's Arron.”
“Hello,” Sam responded, as she stepped into the plane.
“Hi,” I said, following in tow.
Arron seductively brushed her curly locks from her gray eyes, observing me. The red dress she wore enhanced her figure, revealing her vivacious curves. She pushed a button and the ladder was retracted. Closing the door with a slam, locking it. She turned to us and suggested, “Please, buckle up.”
Sam made herself comfortable by the window and buckled her belt.
There were five remaining leather chairs in this luxurious plane. They were divided down the middle, with plenty of legroom and space. I moved to the seat right of my Angel and made myself comfortable. Buckling my seatbelt, as I glanced over at Arron, who was speaking to the pilot at the moment then, turned to me and returned a smile. “Arron, what's going on here?”
Arron sat down in the chair that faced us and buckled herself in. “Detective, I've been briefed on the both of you and I know about Area 51.”
Sam looked over at me then, back at Arron. “How?”
I observed Arron, reading her body language for any falsehoods.
“Well, there's the DVD footage-”
“You're the one who sent it?” I interrupted and asked, “What does my Father's death have to do with it?”
“I sent the package,” she replied, “I'm afraid that I haven't a clue on what was in it.”
“Why?” Sam probed.
Arron explained, “I like you, are on a need to know basis.”
“Who are you working for?” I interrogated, feeling the pain in my side increase. Causing me to lose my train of thought, as a low groan left my lips. “And why are you helping us?”
“I'm not at liberty to tell you that,” Arron stated and disclosed, “I was told to do so.” She noticed my discomfort and questioned, “Are you hurt, Detective?”
“Damn…” I muttered, knowing that I'm caught and nodded. “It's only a flesh wound.” I pulled out the envelope with the DVD inside and placed it under my seat.
“Taylor…” Sam released her belt and came to my side, “Why didn't you tell me?”
“I didn't want you to worry-”
“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” Sam spoke up, as her hands quickly removed my belt. “Where are you hurt?”
“My right side,” I replied, lifting my shirt. Revealing a bleeding gash along my side, caused by a bullet. “It only grazed me,” I assured, grinning.
Sam just shook her head, “I need a first aid kit.”
“Here you go,” Arron said, handing her one. “Do you need anything else?”
“Yeah, a drink…Bourbon would be nice…” I expressed.
“Taylor, I need you to take your shirt off and lay down on the floor…” Sam advised, pulling out what she need from the kit.
I got out of my seat, removed my shirt and made myself comfortable on my left side.
“Here you go,” Arron informed, handing me a small bottle of Jack Daniels.
“Why thank you,” I thanked, taking it and opened it. After taking two large swigs, I finishing it. Feeling my throat burn as the liquor passed it and entered into my stomach. “That was harsh.” A cold liquid was poured on my wound and it began to burn and bubble. “HEY!” I uttered in surprise.
Sam had poured peroxide on my wound and apologized, “Sorry, Babe…it's rather deep I'm afraid. I'm going to have to stitch you up.”
“Tis' all right,” I agreed, feeling the liquor's effect on me. Considering that I haven't had any hard stuff in over a year. I'm not really surprised…I'm a beer kind of woman anyway.
Arron knelt next to her and wiped excess liquid around my wound. “I understand why you might be hesitant in believing us, but we're really here to help.”
“Then tell us who you work for,” I repeated, feeling the needle puncturing my flesh and grimaced.
“I'm sorry, Detective…” Arron shook her head and retorted, “All I can tell you is that you'll find out soon enough.”
“So, do you work for the Government?” Sam inquired, as she created small perfect stitches. “Or a private origination?”
Arron glanced down at me then, over at Sam. “Let's just say I work for both and leave it at that,” she decreed, smiling.
I asked, “So, can you tell us where we're going?”
“A safe house.”
“Who were those guys anyway?” Sam questioned, tying off the thread.
“NSA agents,” Arron disclosed and informed, “You're the remaining survivors of Area 51.”
“Figures…” I muttered, rolling my eyes at the fact.
Sam placed a bandage over my wound and taped it down tight. “Taylor…I know that this may be hard to do, but you can't be running around like a Banshee.”
I slowly sat up, feeling the stitches pulling my skin and nodded. “The stitches…I know.”
“Promise that you'll tell me when you're hurt,” Sam decreed, as she stared directly into my eyes, hurt.
I made contact with hers, noticing the seriousness and hurt that were within them and nodded again. “I promise Sam…” My hand gently caressed her cheek, outlining her jaw line. I don't know what I would do without you… Sam leaned over and placed a soft kiss upon my lips. They parted, as her tongue eagerly greeted mine.
Arron silently observed us and abruptly cleared her throat. “Excuse me…”
Sam pulled away and apologized, “Sorry, Arron…” She placed her tools back into the kit and closed the box.
Remaining silent, as I rose to my feet and sat back down in my chair. I observed our witness, as she put the kit away. My gut's telling me to trust her…I don't know.
Arron turned to us and politely asked, “Care for something to drink?”
A greasy mechanic was slammed against a wall, knocking tools off the wall. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he pleaded.
Agent Turner punched him in the gut and growled, “Tell us where they went!”
“I told you…” he muttered.
“Wrong answer,” Turner replied with a quick punch to his face, breaking his nose.
The mechanic groaned in pain and covered his nose, protecting it. “Please…I really don't know,” he begged, as blood cascaded though his fingers.
Dr. Moore stood on the side, watching. He read the man's nametag and stated, “Bob, I thought you'd be more cooperative than this.” He glanced over the large tools and picked up a large wrench. “I don't have the patience for this,” he sighed and gestured to Turner.
The agent grabbed Bob's wrist and placed it upon the workbench next to him. He then pulled the other hand roughly behind the man's back and held him tight.
Bob realized what was about to take place and spilled his guts, “A Cessna…N977N. Birmingham, Alabama…Please, that's all I know.”
“Thank you,” Dr. Moore expressed then, slammed the wrench upon the mechanic's hand, smashing it.
Bob screamed out in pain, as the bones in his hand shattered. Tears fell from his eyes and he began to whimper.
“Something to remember us by…” the Doctor revealed and exited the room, “Let's go.”
Turner slammed the mechanic against the wall one last time and followed him out.
to be continued....
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