Corruption - Book 2 of Evolution - Cover

Corruption - Book 2 of Evolution

Copyright© 2015 by Misguided Child

Chapter 15: Deadly Game

"It was Aimal, Scotty," Caleb said angrily into his phone. "He nearly took out my whole team! I don't know what came through the veil, but it sure wasn't a Companion, and it was dangerous! Al and I could barely slow it. It was all we could do to stop it, even when we linked! Scotty, I could hear Aimal thank me when I shot him. I think it had just become active. This thing assimilated with its host, quicker than I thought it would. We need that warrant so we can go in now, and pray Branch hasn't become active, too."

Caleb was pacing. He was far enough away from the flashing lights marking the area of the incident, that he couldn't be overheard by his men. He also didn't want his agitation to effect his men.

"Caleb, I can't rush the process any faster," Scotty protested, sounding as frustrated as Caleb. "DOJ has us blocked in the normal processes. We're having to go around them, and that takes time. I'll get the warrant, but I can't do it any faster."

"Then I need more men," Caleb demanded. "Hell, I need the National Guard! I'm not sure they would even be enough."

"I'll call Greg, and ask him to talk to the Governor," Scotty said, sounding tired, and taking Caleb completely serious.

"Talk to him, but I don't think we have time for that. We can't wait. I'm going in on my own authority," Caleb stated grimly.

"It would be illegal," Scotty warned. "Knowingly going in, without a warrant, would leave you open to all kinds of charges. Plus, you couldn't use anything you found in court."

"You really don't understand, Scotty," Caleb barked. "Whatever happens to me, after this, is immaterial! There won't be any arrests or courts. Whatever is in his brain, must be eliminated. There is no way, that I know of, to dig it out. The only solution is killing it. If one of them were that dangerous, right after it became active, how dangerous will it be after it is completely acclimated, or God forbid, it opens the gate, and more of them come through? I've got to go after him, now!"

"If he's really that dangerous, then you need to wait for more backup," Scotty ordered. "I'll get it to you as quick as I can, and we'll have to handle any lawsuits that come up for acting without a warrant."

"If we find him, now, we may not need backup," Caleb pointed out. "I would really like to get out of this mess without losing any men."

"Do what you think best," Scotty said with a sigh before he hung up.

He stalked back to the investigation scene, frustrated and uncertain about what to do, despite what he had told Scotty. Caleb knew that he should move immediately, but it would be against the law. It just didn't feel right, starting his campaign to save mankind by breaking the law.

"Five minutes..." he told Al grimly. "'If I don't hear something in five minutes, we're going in, with or without a warrant."

"I normally think societies ruled by law is a good thing," Al answered nervously. "This is one case, in my opinion, the situation overrides the law. We should go right now. We can't afford to be too late."

Aimal's cell phone began playing a tune that sounded like it came from a market place in Istanbul. One of the officers looked at the text scrolling across the small screen on the phone.

"Caller ID says, 'M Hassan'," the deputy called, and all sound died away.

"That's him, people," Caleb yelled, as he struggled to finish pulling a pair of rubber gloves snug so he could handle evidence, in this case, the phone. "Someone had better be monitoring that line by now. Come on, people. We've got this fish on the hook. Now we need to set it. Okay ... Everybody ready?"

Caleb tapped the send button as the phone began its third rendition, with, "It's so nice of you to call, General Branch. Oh ... excuse me. I forgot... 'Mullah Hassan' is what you're going by these days. Or are you back to Robert Sinclair? Did you mean to burn your Sinclair and Muslim IDs so quickly? I'm sure you had at least three solid IDs. My bet is you're getting ready to switch to your last ID or next to the last at the very most."

"Connor!" the voice on the phone growled in fury.

"Yeah. I know about all the aliases. At least, everything that Aimal knew. Look Branch. You know I'm going to bust your sorry ass. Why don't we meet someplace and save us both some time and trouble," Caleb advised in a jovial, reasonable tone of voice. "Like the man said, you can run, but you'll just go to jail tired when we catch you."

"Connor," Branch said softly, almost gently. "I'm going to kill you last. Before I kill you, I'm going to kill everything you love. I'm going kill them slow, and you will watch. You'll beg to die, but I won't let you, because that's when I'll start on you. By the time I am done with you, you will beg to be tortured, because you will know that you deserve it," the threats ended, and then the man started laughing maniacally.

He didn't end the call. It sounded like he had just set the phone down and walked away. His laughter slowly faded in the distance.

Caleb swallowed, to clear the sudden dry feeling he had in his throat.

"The line is still open, people. I hope someone can tell me where that call is coming from, since he is being so accommodating," Caleb said briskly, controlling the fear in his voice.

"Did you hear that, JJ" Caleb asked.

"Yeah," JJ answered angrily. "I'll let everyone know. I think he would find it very difficult to carry out that threat."

"I think so, too, but I'm going to send deputies to watch the outside of the house," Caleb answered.

"So, do you want us to watch out for the deputies, in addition to ourselves?" JJ asked, partially trying to lighten the moment, but partially serious, too. "Send the deputies if you want, but go get that son of a bitch. I don't like him threatening my babies."

"I will, honey," Caleb promised grimly.

Cell phone signals can be tracked, based on the cell tower they are using. A moving phone is easy to triangulate, because multiple towers can be used as the device moves. The tower a stationary cell phone is using can be determined, but the location can only be narrowed to the area the tower services, and the maximum distance from the tower the cell phone can be, before it switches to another tower. If the phone is registered to two or more towers, the exact location can be quickly be traced.

It took five minutes to isolate the cell tower, and the area the tower services included the ranch. That was enough documented probable cause, and all three teams of deputies closed in on the ranch. Unfortunately, they didn't find Branch at the ranch headquarters. Caleb did find Branch's mental signature in the mind of the ranch foreman. Branch had left the main ranch house hours earlier in a ranch pickup, and the foreman hadn't seen him since.

Caleb saw the memory in the foreman's mind of Branch dressed as a rugged old cowboy, and walking as if he just got off a horse. He knew that it was a clue to Branch's new identity.

They continued following the direction of the cell phone signal until they reached a remote corner of the ranch. Caleb held everyone back from the abandoned line shack the cell signal was coming from. He didn't believe for a second that Branch had simply left the phone to be found.

The bomb squad found two booby-traps, each of which had enough explosives to kill anyone within fifty yards. Caleb was thankful that he had been cautious. His caution had saved men's lives. Branch was long gone before they had arrived on the scene so the lives would have been wasted.


"Is there something in particular that I should call you?" Branch asked deferentially as he merged with freeway traffic.

The initial glow of success that Branch had felt had faded. He was driving a Nissan pickup that looked like it should have been retired years ago. He wasn't worried about the vehicle being reported as stolen. The owner and his wife were both dead. At least, Branch hoped the man had died. He knew the woman was dead, or maybe just her body was dead, he amended with a shudder as another scream reverberated through his mind.

Branch would have been happy to simply slit the occupant's throats, when he found the remote farm house. The creature in his mind had other plans. Breaking into the house had been absurdly simple. Finding the occupants had been as easy as following the sound of the barking dog. His passenger had killed the dog with a twist of his mind. Branch wished the same mercy had been accorded the old man and woman in the bed, and mercy hadn't been a hallmark of his life.

Branch would not call the creature a companion. He had learned the creature was no one's companion. Its sole purpose was to dominate. It seemed to take pleasure, and maybe even feed on, terror. That is what it did to the old couple.

The man had sat up, and aimed a pistol that had been lying on his nightstand. Branch's passenger froze the man before he could pull the trigger. The old woman began screaming, and Branch felt his passenger relishing the terror pouring from the woman.

The woman's screaming seemed to last forever, and then the creature began emptying her mind.

Branch was forced to experience her memories as the creature assimilated them, including the culmination of the final terror of her death. The creature had given her the knowledge of what was happening to heighten her terror. The woman was left as a drooling lump of flesh, without any other thought than the awareness of excruciating pain.

The man had known what was happening to his wife, too. The creature had linked with the man so he could experience his wife's terror. His screams grew more frantic when his hand slowly twisted, aiming his pistol at what had once been his wife, and pulled the trigger.

Branch wondered if the man had been screaming because of what was happening to his wife, or what he was being forced to do. He considered the bullet an act of mercy, even though the only reason the creature had done it was to wring more pain and terror from the man.

The creature savored the man's horror for several minutes, until his screams had died to heartbroken sobs. Then, it began raping his mind the same as it had his wife's. Branch was forced to experience the man's life, and his final moments of horror and pain. Branch shuddered at the terrified memories of the old man and woman. They were still coherent, seeming to float in the back of his mind in limbo. They were still horrified at what had happened to them, and at their present circumstances. And Branch had to live with their horror.

Robert Branch, AKA Robert Sinclair, Gerald Fleming, and Abdul Ali Hassan, was not a merciful man. He had killed, raped, and tortured men, women, and children in more countries than he could remember. He felt no remorse for any of the people that had died by his hand or his orders. However, this creature's methods struck a chord of revulsion within him. The story of a man riding a tiger briefly crossed his mind. The man might get on the tiger, and might ride the tiger, but how does he get off?

"You may call me, Master," the creature allowed.

"How about I call you boss?" Branch asked. "It has the same connotations as master, but not as offensive."

The pickup swerved on the freeway, as pain flared through Branch's body. It was gone as suddenly as it came.

"I don't care how offensive it may be. You will call me Master!" the creature ordered.

"Yes, Master," Branch gasped as he struggled to control the vehicle.

"Explain your plan, again, and try to do it in an organized manner," the creature ordered. "Your mind is primitive and chaotic."

"I had planned to go to a ranch owned by Gerald Fleming, one of my prepared aliases. It is on the border with Mexico, and no one is looking for him. That would provide a base of operations, until I'm finished in this country. Then, I planned to go to another country, one that would allow me more latitude in my preparations. I thought that bringing others, like yourself, through the veil, would give me a better edge for the campaign I had planned," Branch explained. "An army is already being formed, but it doesn't have a solidified, united leadership, yet."

"What is the goal of your campaign," the creature asked. "What is your dream, human," it asked in silky tones, as if it were talking to a favorite pet.

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