Second That Emotion
by
Latikia
Copyright © 2006
Chapter 19
My eyes opened as if spring loaded and I bolted upright, the muscles in my belly tight as iron bands, my heart pounding in my chest; breathing so hard and gasping for air you might have thought I’d just run a mile at full speed. I was alone and naked, sweat running down my face and chest. I could feel the panic within but I couldn’t control it. My head swiveled from side to side, seeing everything but recognizing nothing.
“IZZY!” I cried out at the top of my lungs, my heart pounding so hard and fast the pain was becoming unbearable. Tears ran down my face, mixing with the sweat on my chest.
“IZZY!”
Even to my own ears the sound was pitiful, gut wrenching and forlorn. The sound of despair and hopelessness.
From the depths of my soul emerged a terrible, remorseless, unending rage that started as a tiny ember…but grew, fanned by my panic and grief, into a hurricane blaze. I started broadcasting it all around me, the feelings too intense to stay contained within my body.
“Ike?” I heard a tiny voice call me from far away.
I climbed up off the couch and stood looking around, searching for…grasping for…
“Ike?” the voice called me again. Had I gone insane at last? Had the shrinks been right to worry about me?
I turned slowly, rage rippling from me like heat waves from
the floor of the desert at
She stood in the doorway, a white towel wrapped around her body, her hair dripping wet, her face worried and afraid.
“Izzy?” I croaked.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Izzy?” I jumped over the couch and swept her up in my arms, crushing her against me.
I ran my hands over the wet towel, up over her bare shoulders to her wet hair and twisted my fingers in the damp strands.
I released her from my crushing embrace and fell to my knees in front of her, my face against her chest, sobbing like a baby.
Seeing her, smelling the fragrance of her skin and hair, the touch of her hands on my head…I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her close, listening to her heart beating. Such a simple, glorious, wonderful thing, the human heartbeat; so comforting and reassuring. I felt the rage retreat, its fires banked once again and under control.
But my heart kept pounding like a fire alarm and the tears continued to fall. I couldn’t stop them. The memory of what I’d seen and felt wouldn’t go away.
“Baby, what’s wrong.” she asked. “What happened?”
“Bad dream. Very bad dream, but it was so real.”
She stroked my head and hugged my face against her towel covered breasts.
“It’s okay. Just a dream. It isn’t real.”
“Too goddamned real. I thought I’d lost you.”
“I woke up and you were still sleeping, so I went upstairs to take a bath.” She chuckled. “And to put some lotion on my butt.”
Beginning to get some semblance of control over my emotions, I nodded and patted her gently on the ass.
“Sorry about that.” I said.
“Hey, I asked you to. Besides, it was good. Really, really good. Sex has never been like that before. Well, maybe the first time you went down on me.”
I got to my feet and wiped my face off with my hands. Izzy took my arm and pulled me out of the living room and towards the stairs.
“Come on. Take a bath with me. You kinda stink.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Just kidding…I like the way you smell when you’re sweaty. I always have. I’m just using that as an excuse to get you into the tub with me.”
“That’s alright then.”
Upstairs in the bathroom I climbed into the tub and Izzy slid in behind me. I moved forward and leaned back and she held me between her legs, my head resting between her breasts. Dad had insisted, when he bought the house, that all the tubs be large enough so he could lay out in them, full length and fully submerged. So there was plenty of room in this one for the both of us.
While Izzy soaped my chest and shoulders, I described the dream I’d had, in all its vivid and unsettling detail.
“Jeez, no wonder you looked like you wanted to tear someone’s throat out with your teeth.” She hugged me closer and kissed the side of my head.
“Has he tried coming here yet?” I asked.
Izzy shuddered slightly and pressed me against her. “No, not yet. But knowing him it’s just a matter of time. I got away while he was at the club one night. He never usually let me out of his sight for more than a few minutes, but he got a phone call from the club one afternoon last week and tore out of the house like a madman. I saw my chance and I ran.”
We were silent, with only the sounds of the water and our shifting bodies to disturb the quiet.
“Uhm…what was that you said earlier about having sex with girls?” I asked, dragging my fingers along the inside of her wide spread thigh.
I felt her blush spreading across her chest, heating the back of my neck.
“Izzy, you can tell me anything, okay? I’m not judging you. You really like having sex with women?”
“Yes.” she said after a long minute. “It’s funny; with women I’m aggressive and demanding. I guess the opposite of the way I am with guys. Having a girl lick and suck me is more…I don’t know, more satisfying somehow. At least it always was till this morning.”
I smiled, patting and rubbing her legs. “It’s okay; there’s no need to boost my ego. I can tell if what I’m doing makes you feel good, and that’s all I care about.”
She tightened her legs momentarily around my waist, grinding her pelvis against the small of my back.
“In that case, there are a few more things I want to try…”
“Easy, woman…save some for later. If we do it all now, what will we have to look forward to?”
“Doing it all over again?” she suggested.
“Yeah, there is that.”
The water was getting colder and we both had wrinkled hands and feet, so we got out and dried off. I applied lotion to her still red and sore butt cheeks, which led to a few minutes of digital manipulation, giggles and sighs.
Izzy got dressed and I put on my clothes from the day before, went out and got my duffle bag from the car and brought it back up to my old room and changed into my sweats and running shoes.
Izzy said she was going to clean up around the house and make dinner. I told her I was going for a quick run, and to lock the doors and not let anyone in but me.
As I ran my old route around the neighborhood I paid close attention to the people I saw, linking and checking everyone for hints of aggression, deception or malice. I took note of where cars were parked and if anyone was sitting inside. By my third lap I had spotted three things that were troubling. One was a man sitting in the small park across the street and half way down the block from our house. He’d changed benches twice, but he was still there and still keeping any eye on me. The other two were vehicles. One was directly across the street from the house; a grungy white VW mini-van with tinted windows and balding tires. There were at least two people in the van and they didn’t look to be in any great hurry to go anywhere. The second was a brown sedan, maybe five years old with a slightly dented rear bumper and a broken rear tail light. The windows were clear and I could see only one man inside it behind the wheel.
On my fourth lap I crossed the street to the park and took a seat on the bench next to the man who was pretending to read a paperback book.
“It’s a little cold out to be reading, don’t you think?” I asked.
“I like the cold.” he said, looking over the top of the book at me.
“How many do you think there are in the van?”
“Three or four.”
“Your partner the one in the brown sedan?”
He nodded slightly. “Dr. Wills said you’d spot us.”
I shrugged. “I notice things.”
I got up and used the bench to do a couple of stretching exercises.
“I’m going to be making a bit of a mess tomorrow. It shouldn’t attract too much official attention.”
“Do you want backup?”
“Thanks, but the less you or anyone else knows about it the better.” I finished stretching and stood up. “I don’t suppose you have a throwaway pistol on you?”
He smiled thinly. “Mr. Jones did say you might ask.” He reached into his coat and brought out a bulging manila envelope. He set it down on the bench next to him. I picked it up and tucked it into one of the pockets of my pullover top.
“Try and keep warm.” I said by way of thanks and jogged off towards the mini-van.
I kept out of sight as much as possible, dodging behind and around trees. Finding a nicely secluded spot, I took out the envelope and tore it open.
Bless Mr. Jones’ heart. A Glock 9mm, with all the serial numbers and identifying marks lovingly removed. I checked the clip; it was full of hollow points, and the chamber had one in the pipe. I put the Glock back into my pocket and stuffed the envelope into another.
Looking around the street I waited till no one was around then walked slowly and silently towards the side door of the van. I began broadcasting fear and panic at high levels, reached out, grabbed the door handle and pulled it open and back. I was banking on them not having locked the silly damn thing. It ground open and back. I blasted the emotions up to a higher level as I looked in on the four surprised men.
“Buenos Dias, sonsabitches.”
I climbed in and slammed the door shut behind me.
Twenty five minutes later I got out of the van, from the driver’s side, locked it and slammed it shut. I waved to the man in the park and walked across the street to Dad’s house and rang the doorbell.
I waited patiently, hoping Izzy would take what I’d told her about not opening it for anyone but me seriously. I heard movement and saw a flash of light then darkness in the door’s tiny peephole.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Ike, honey. I’m alone, you can open up.” I took a couple of steps back so she could get a good look at my face.
I heard the deadbolt being unlocked and the door swung open.
“You said a quick run.” she accused.
“Sorry about that. Ricky had some goons watching the house. I wanted them out of the way before I came back.”
“Are you okay? You’re not hurt?”
I walked in and shut the door behind me. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about. Is Dad back yet?”
We walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table.
“He should be back in a few minutes. What happened with Ricky’s men?”
“I’ll explain everything when Dad gets here. Don’t worry; I’ve taken care of them.”
I pulled her to me and we kissed for a few seconds.
“You taste so good.” I told her, when we came up for air.
“Mmmmm, so do you. All of you.” she said dreamily and wiggled her eyebrows.
“You little horn-dog.” I laughed.
“Well, it’s your fault…I feel all warm and secure when you’re next to me.”
“Now that’s an ego boost I can live with.”
I heard a key rattling in the front door.
“Stay here.” I told Izzy and moved quickly out into the hallway, my hand in my pocket gripping the Glock.
The front door swung open and Dad stepped in. I took my hand out of my pocket.
“Welcome back.” I said.
“Evening, son. How’s Isabeau?” he asked, closing the door and locking it behind him. He took off his coat and put it in the hall closet along with his briefcase.
“Come on into the kitchen.” I suggested.
He followed me into the kitchen. Izzy was bustling about, putting dinner on the table.
She turned around and saw us standing there. My beautiful big sister, in her jeans and plaid flannel work shirt, her long hair tied back in a ponytail.
“Hi Dad.” she said in a small voice.
Dad moved faster than I’d imagined he could and embraced her, holding her tight in his arms.
“Oh, sweetie. I’m so glad to see you.” he said gruffly, his voice choking up.
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t know what to do.”
“It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I stood back and watched them. Was everything going to be okay?
I suppose that depended on what your definition of ‘okay’ was.
We sat down finally and ate dinner together as a family for the first time in years. The conversation was a bit stilted at first, each of us trying not to hit any of the other’s sensitive buttons, but after a while we got more comfortable and things lightened up.
They talked about good times in the past, Mom and Granddad,
happy memories. I talked about Carlie and told them a little about my
work in the CID and the trip out of
“That is amazing! You ran through the desert at night, wounded and bleeding?” Dad said with pride in his voice. I’d never heard that from him in my life. It was more than a little disconcerting.
“I did the only thing I could, under the circumstances. If it hadn’t been for Izzy and Granddad and Mom and Carlie I would have given up and probably died or been killed.”
Izzy perked up when I said that. “Dad, you should hear him. When he talks to himself, he sounds exactly like Granddad and Mom. It is so cool!” she gushed.
Dad looked at me, concern written large all over his features.
I sighed. “That’s why the Army is retiring me…and why I’m on the Psych Ward. Since the desert, when I get stressed I talk to myself. Out loud, apparently, and I take all the parts. The chief Shrink doesn’t believe I’m crazy. He says it’s a simple coping mechanism and will probably go away in time.”
Dad nodded and shrugged his shoulders.
“Speaking of coping…there has been a change of plans, regarding Ricky.” I said.
Dad’s eyes got hard. Izzy’s got scared.
“He sent some goons to watch the house and if possible, to do a ‘snatch and grab’ of Izzy if she left the house.”
“’Snatch and grab’?” Dad asked.
“Kidnap.” I explained. “They’ve been taken care of, but he’ll be expecting them to contact him sometime tonight with an update. When he doesn’t hear from them, he might try something more direct. I was going to deal with him tomorrow, but I’ve decided to do it tonight instead. Dad, do you still have your guns in the house?”
“Ivan’s and my hunting rifles and your grandfather’s old handgun.”
“Good, load them and keep them handy tonight. I’m going out in about an hour and I probably won’t be back till morning. Lock the place up tight and don’t let anyone inside for any reason. When I get back I’ll ring the doorbell three times, short rings.”
Dad nodded his understanding.
Izzy was less understanding.
“You can’t be serious! You don’t know what kind of people Ricky has working for him. They’ll kill you!”
“Izzy, I had guys with grenade launchers, mortars, machine guns and tanks trying to kill me.”
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. “The Army isn’t putting me out because they’re worried I might be crazy. They’re convinced I’m crazy. What they’re worried about is that I might snap at some point and start killing indiscriminately.”
“That’s crazy. You’re the sweetest, kindest, most gentle person I’ve ever known.” she said.
I had to smile at her defense of me.
“Thank you Izzy. But if you only knew…alright, let’s get this out in the open, once and for all. Before I was evac’d out of Saudi my Colonel told me I’d been awarded the Silver Star. You know why? Because I killed nearly seventy five men. Yes, they were trying to kill me, but still, that’s a lot of killing. Before that, I killed a four man mortar squad that was going to shell our position. When I was in CID I shot and killed two men. Before that…before that I tortured and killed the man responsible for the death of my wife and child. A couple of weeks ago I tortured a confession from a foreign espionage agent who also happened to moonlight as a serial rapist and killer of young women. And so far today I’ve killed four hired thugs who, incidentally, had past histories of rape, robbery and murder.”
Dad was looking at me like he’d never seen me before. Izzy’s eyes were…unreadable. I had no idea what was going on in her mind.
“I am sweet and kind and gentle, but life keeps fucking with me, so I end up being something I don’t want to be.”
Dad looked up. “Watch your language.”
I stared at him for an instant. I could see a twinkle in his eye. The two of us cracked up laughing.
Izzy looked at us both as if we’d lost our minds.
“Izzy, I don’t like killing. I don’t want to. But there are times where there is no reasonable alternative. Should I have tried to reason with the four men out in the van? Tried to convince them of the error of their ways? Risked them getting their hands on you?”
“You could have called the police.”
“Isabeau, the police wouldn’t have done a thing. They couldn’t. Much as I hate to admit it, the legal system does not prevent crimes. At best it tries to punish after a crime is committed. From a purely personal point of view I agree with what your brother did.”
“What about morality? What about right and wrong? What about all those things you taught us growing up…was all that just bullshit?”
I’d been over this route before. Morality, legality, ethical behavior. Was I getting to the point where the only thing that mattered was what I thought was right or wrong?
‘Who has a better right to decide than you?’
“Does might always make right Mom?”
‘No, but might generally has a better chance of enforcing their version of right.’
“Government makes laws based on generally accepted principles of right and wrong.”
‘What is Government?’
“People. Individuals, each with their own ideas of what should and shouldn’t be allowed.”
‘People…individuals. The first government was the biggest and the strongest individual, and that one person decided and made laws for everyone.’
“That didn’t make them right.”
‘Ike, if you can’t enforce the law, it’s nothing more than words. That hasn’t changed in all of human history.’
“Forget law. What about justice?”
‘Justice is supposed to be about what is fair, not necessarily about what is legal. You’re father knows all about that. If a man steals a loaf of bread to feed his starving family is it fair to put him in prison for ten years? How about cutting off his hand? If a woman kills a man who regularly beats and abuses her, is it fair to put her in prison for twenty five years? Or for one? There is no Justice. Remember, the Golden Rule is not a law or even a commandment…it was a suggestion.’
‘More like a sugar coated variation of an eye for an eye.’
“Granddad’s got you there.”
‘Boy, what your mother is trying to tell you is that you have the might, so you have the right. Don’t be afraid of making the decisions you know you have to make.’
“Izzy doesn’t want me to kill Ricky.”
‘That’s not true…I want him dead! I don’t want his death on your hands.’
“I can live with it. I’ve lived with all the others.”
‘I don’t think I can. The guilt of you having to kill for me…’
‘Ike, do you have to kill him?’
“No Mom. I can do something worse.”
‘But he’ll be alive?’
“He’ll still be breathing. Not much else though.”
‘Do it!’
“Mom? Granddad?”
‘Do it.’ ‘Do it.’
I blinked and looked around, like an owl.
Izzy and Dad were standing together at the head of the table looking down at me.
Oops. Did it again.
Izzy turned to Dad. “Didn’t I tell you it was cool?”
Dad looked like he was sweating. He reached up and ran a finger along his collar.
“Holy shit!”
‘Watch your language, boy’ Granddad said sternly.
I helped Dad bring out his guns. We cleaned and loaded them, just in case things didn’t go the way I intended. Once that was taken care of, I went upstairs and changed, putting on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, my running shoes and putting a pair of Nomex pilot’s gloves in one pocket of the pea coat, the Glock in the other. I pulled my watch cap on over my hair, and got into the coat.
I hugged Izzy and told Dad to lock up tight.
I walked out into the cold night and opened the door of the mini-van, got in and started up the engine. The brown sedan and the two government men was nowhere in sight.
54313
Thirty seven minutes later I arrived at the parking lot of Cruz Control, Ricky’s place of business.
I climbed out of the van locked the driver side door, tossed the keys into the back with the four bodies and slammed the door. Walking slowly I made my way thru the parking lot, across the street to the front entrance of the club. The neon sign above the doorway gleamed like nuclear taffy.
There was a line of people waiting to get past the pair of bouncers who guarded the double glass doors. Both were big men, easily two inches and forty pounds heavier than me. Both looked as if they’d hoped someone would make an attempt to sneak past them.
I began broadcasting fear and panic. I linked with the two bouncers and hit them hard with terror and pain. They dropped to the icy cold concrete pavement and curled up into balls, shaking and moaning. The line of people went running for their cars.
I opened one of the doors and walked into the club.
The place was packed, bodies everywhere, crammed together, jostling each other, trying to move from tiny tables to the dance floor, or to the bar or from one person to another.
The crowd parted and made way as I walked thru, heading for
the bar. I took off my watch cap, put on
the gloves and put the cap in the vacant pocket. As the crowd moved as far away from me as
they could in the cramped confines I probably did look like Moses going thru
the
At the bar I signaled for one of the bartenders to come over.
“Fill me a water glass with peppered vodka. And tell Ricky I want to see him.”
He nodded, poured my drink and ran off to find the boss.
I sipped the vodka, walked out into the center of the dance floor and began broadcasting fear and panic in rolling waves.
The club was fairly large, as dance clubs in mid sized towns go. At full capacity it would probably have held nearly three hundred people. Five minutes after I stepped onto the dance floor the place was empty.
I stood there with the vodka in my left hand, my right hand in my coat pocket holding the Glock. I stopped broadcasting panic and toned down the fear somewhat.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” a loud, imperious bass voice thundered.
I turned on the balls of my feet towards the voice.
He was about my height, a little heavier, definitely darker complexioned, but so was most everyone else in the world. There was a vague similarity in our facial features.
Behind him four equally large men followed, beefier, more brutal looking. They spread out widely as they drew closer to me. I linked with the four.
“Ricky, you got some ‘splainin’ to do.” I said, drew the Glock and shot the four men in rapid succession, one slug for each heart. I cut the links when I’d felt each one die. I put the Glock back into my pocket.
Ricky was silent and unfazed. I linked with him. Arrogant superiority and self confidence were his defining emotions. No fear, no guilt, no compassion. I increased the level of the fear I was broadcasting. It didn’t make a dent in him.
Interesting.
He looked at me and I could feel his curiosity. Then smugness took over.
“You must be Ike. Isabeau talks about you all the time.”
I nodded.
“She screamed for you the last time I fucked her.” he grinned. He was enjoying himself.
I added terror and panic to my broadcast waves and increased the level. I heard a body hit the floor behind me.
Ricky’s grin faded away and anger flowed thru him.
I took a sip of the vodka.
“What do you want Ike? Money? I’ve got more than you could imagine. You want in on the business? I can get you connected. Women? Boys? I can get you anything you could possibly want. All I want in return is Isabeau.”
“She doesn’t want you.”
“It doesn’t matter what she wants, this is between you and me.”
“It matters to me. But you’re right about one thing, this is between you and me.”
“You touch me and your sister and father are dead.” he threatened.
“I suppose you’re referring to the four goons in the white mini-van. I left the van out in your parking lot.” I took another sip of vodka. “The goons are still inside.”
A tiny speck of uncertainty emerged within him.
“Not to worry, Ricky. I promised my sister I wouldn’t kill you. And I keep my promises.”
I felt the sudden surge of anger and hatred as he charged me. For a big guy he was very fast.
I turned to the side, like a matador waving a bull past and smashed the vodka filled glass into his face. The broken glass cut his cheek to the bone and the burn of the vodka and pepper burned like fire. Even so, he managed to land a solid punch to my ribs before losing his balance and falling face first to the dance floor.
I backed up, while Ricky scrambled to his feet and prepared for another charge.
I had no desire to trade punches or kicks with this man. I released the controls on the rage I’d experienced that morning and felt that searing fury within me flare up. I launched the flames down the link and into the man across from me.
His eyes rolled back into his head and his mouth opened in a silent scream. His knees buckled and his entire weight came crashing down on them as he hit the floor with a loud crack.
I stood watching for a few moments then pulled back the raging fires. His eyes returned to normal and looked into mine.
“What the fuck are you?” he gasped.
“Someone you should never have pissed off.”
I reached inside him and ripped out every emotion he had. I wanted nothing to do with any of them so I simply let them dissipate. In their place I took every single negative emotion I’d taken from Izzy, amped them up several times, looped and locked them and forced them into Ricky. I burned them into him so they’d never come out.
He started screaming and flailing around on the floor, slamming his hands into his head and chest.
I waited for him to pass out. It took a while. His convulsions and contortions weren’t pretty to watch, but I forced myself. He eventually wore his body out and slowed down. I could see the dullness in his eyes. There wasn’t much of him left in there anymore. But he was alive, so I’d kept my promise.
I found the body of the man who’d been trying to sneak up on me. He was still alive. I picked him up and sat him down at one of the tiny little tables so that he was facing the dance floor, backed up a few feet and put a slug in his heart.
I went to the bar and got a bottle of vodka, opened it up and splashed it over the Glock, wiping it down with a bar rag. I popped the clip out and did the same to it and reinserted it. Walking back over to Ricky’s now inert form I put the pistol into his right hand and pressed his fingers around the grip and over the trigger. Then I tossed it over near the four bodies.
I headed back in direction he’d come from and found the office area and searched the place. I found video machines and monitors. He’d had the entire place wired, including the restrooms. I popped the tapes out of the recorders and took them with me.
I headed out onto the empty street, still broadcasting fear, and started walking, looking for a cab.