Boston Blood: The first Frank McKenzie Thriller Read online

  ‘Haven’t you heard of knocking? I’m on an important Phone call here’ The DA snaps.

  The man who burst into the room grabs the remote for the TV and switches it over to another channel broadcasting some breaking news.

  The DA looks shocked as he reads the head line scrolling on the TV.

  “Public Records Building Destroyed in Terrorist attack”

  ‘Holy shit Frank. Have you seen this, they bombed the public records building?’ Eddie Asks

  ‘Yes sir, that’s why I’m ringing you. I know who did it’ Frank says

  ‘How do you know... I mean…. Tell me!’

  ‘It was me sir’

  ‘What are you talking about Frank? Why would you?’

  ‘It was Chase sir, He made me do it. He had some hostages and killed a kid. He said if I didn’t blow up the building then he would kill some more hostages. The guy’s a psycho; I didn’t doubt him for one minute, just look at what he did today.’

  ‘Maybe that’s so McKenzie, but you can’t go around blowing up buildings willy-nilly. I’m going to have to bring you in Frank’

  ‘Don’t worry sir, I’m already in custody. I turned my self in to the authorities. I’m using my one phone call to let you know I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to do sir. He was going to kill more people.’

  The phone went dead. Eddie grabbed his coat and rushed out of his office and made his way to his Limo. Destination: THE SLAMMER.

  Nine

  The cold surface of the interviewing table made Frank feel uneasy, especially since for years it was him on the other end of the darn thing. Now he sat staring into the eyes of a person that obviously thought that this was the break he was waiting for. The make or break B.S that determines weather he plays desk jockey or commands the desks. The officer tasked with interviewing Frank was a run of the mill Detective, Jet black hair, combed back; the sort of hair style that would make the Fonz proud. He had a thick Italian accent, which made Frank think of how rare it is to find a guy that mob like’ working on the right side of the law.

  ‘Now listen here Frank, I’m in charge of this room. You may have been Mr Big shot for a while but now I’m the guy standing in the way of you and your freedom. If I was you I’d just suck it up and hand over the reins, because you’re going down and I’m taking over’ says the Detective.

  Frank smiled. Turns out he was right. This detective only wanted one thing out of Frank, and that’s his job.

  ‘Look here detective….?’ Frank asks

  ‘Detective Loupe’ says the detective.

  ‘Okay Loupe, I have already explained what happened to the DA. I’m not saying anything else until I speak to someone who doesn’t look like a 70’s character out of some B rated movie, someone I can take seriously’ Frank says while chuckling to himself.

  Detective Loupe Smiles at Frank, Pearly whites showing, gums and all.

  ‘I somehow don’t think you have the right to be making demands Frank. You blew up a public building. You’re lucky that no one was hurt during the explosion.’

  ‘The only reason no one was hurt was because I got everyone out of there before the building exploded.’

  ‘Oh yes that’s right, I forgot. How silly of me. After all I should be listening to the man that threatened 50 plus people with a fire arm. How noble. Not to mention you also physically assaulted two guards, one of which is in the hospital with a broken nose.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll live’ Says Frank who’s growing impatient with the detective.

  ‘Yes he will Frank, but I’m not sure whether or not you will. See, Terrorism is a serious crime, let alone Treason. Seeing you blew up a building in your own country, and you work for the government. Those are some serious charges Frank, the sort of charges that result in the electric chair.’

  Frank gets up and walks over to the detective.

  ‘Look here pal; I don’t know why you’re wasting my time here. I did what I had to do. If I didn’t do what I did, you would be looking at a lot more than a few scuffed rent a’ cops and some hurt feelings’ Says frank.

  ‘Calm down Frank. You seem edgy. It’s a shame that you can’t take one of your pills now isn’t it? Oh that’s right; Frank here has a drugs problem. You should have been a tad bit more careful, handing yourself in with those pills in your pocket.’

  ‘Those are prescribed by my doctor, Sherlock’

  ‘That may be so, but I’m pretty sure that the department would frown upon your needing of such drugs. I think that sort of dependency doesn’t bode well for a high score on you psychiatric profile’

  Frank smiles back at the pressing detective. The door to the interview room opens. DA Eddie Smith walks in. He signals detective Loupe out of the room. Smith waits for everyone to leave and closes the door behind them.

  ‘What took you so long?’ asks Frank.

  ‘I’m here now aren’t I?’

  ‘Okay, I’ve already explained what happened’ Says Frank.

  The DA stops him from talking and undoes his cuffs.

  ‘Look this isn’t my doing for once; it seems as if you have friends in high places who understand your reasoning. That being said, they want you to carry on the investigation. It seems that you are the one that Chase seems to be comfortable talking to. Call it crazy, but you have a rapport with the guy.’

  ‘I beg to differ, but I won’t turn down a case for a jail cell.’ Frank says

  ‘Good because I need to get you down to the incident room.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘It’s Connor, He’s on the phone and he wants to talk to you’

  Ten

  Frank and the DA walk into the incident room where the sight of the chaos is all too familiar to them. Cops and detectives are gathered around a phone, staring at it like it was possessed. Truth is it was. It was possessed with the voice and soul of Americas most wanted man, Connor Chase.

  The DA gives a cautious look to Frank before he picks up the phone, as if to say be careful what you agree on doing for this psycho this time. The swarm of officials around the phone make way for Frank as he walks over and grabs it. He raises the phone to his ear and coughs to clear his throat. The whole room goes quiet.

  ‘Ah, you’re here then’ Connor says

  ‘Yeah, what was so urgent that you had to call me? I’m sure you should be concentrating on getting yourself ready for being on the receiving end of the biggest man hunt in history.’

  There is a pause on the other end of the line.

  ‘Well that may be true but me and you have unfinished business. The thing is, I need some more jobs doing, and I need them done today.’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong Connor. I’m not doing any more jobs for you. It nearly got me sent down for life.’

  ‘Well I’m sure I’ll be able to convince you Frank. After all, most people only need a subtle nudge in the right direction. The thing is, when I nudge you, there isn’t going to be anything subtle about it.’

  The phone goes dead and Frank slams the receiver down onto the table. Eddie walks up behind him and puts his hand on his shoulder for comfort.

  ‘He’s trying to mess with you, don’t let him get to you Frank.’ Eddie says.

  ‘I’m just worried about what he’s planning to do. He’s already done so much in one day, so many acts of pure evil that I doubt it could get any worse, but I know for sure that it can., and it will. Mark my words Eddie.’

  Eddie pats Frank on the shoulder sympathetically and walks off. Frank is left feeling helpless. Not for himself but for which ever poor soul Chase gets his hands on next.

  Eleven

  Frank had felt like this before, by now he was a pro. He knew how to mask his feelings when interviewing people. He knew that a slight hole in his tactics would be an invitation for a showdown. Well, in the interview room that is. This time however, he was masking something else. It was more of a side effect then a feeling. It was a side effect that Frank was all too familiar with, after getting high
on Veratril for 2 years he knew how to “be himself” in front of people. The thing is, he didn’t know how to be “himself” at this moment in time.

  He takes the needle out of his arm. A slight sucking sensation is felt when the needle pops out of his vein. Although it is the first time that Frank had felt this feeling, he sure as hell knew why people were hooked on their first spoonful. A certain euphoria was surrounding him as he got himself up from the floor in the bathroom. He felt dizzy, but for the first time in a long time, he felt calm. He knew that there was a tolerance built up to things the body consumes regularly, but he wandered if he would ever grow tolerant of this new sensation. It was a telling day, a day that would always be remembered by Frank. The day he realised that his edge was gone, and the only salvation he had to regain that edge, was being put away into a baggie that diabetics would usually carry around. Frank didn’t have diabetes though.

  He embraced the euphoria for a few more moments until suddenly there was a knock on the door. He shook himself back into control. He took a deep breath in and exhaled, invigorating as heroin was, he doubted that his colleagues would embrace the idea of a smack head detective. You got to do what you got to do he thought to himself.

  ‘Yeah be one minute, Just whipping’ Frank shouted to the person on the other end of the door.

  There was a slight amused laugh at the other end, but the knocking continued. Frank opened the door and saw a female detective at the entrance to the men’s bathroom. She smiled.

  ‘Excuse me sir, they are asking for you in the incident room. It’s urgent; I suggest you come down there with me…’ The women said, Looking Frank up and down. ‘Unless you’re busy’ she continued.

  Frank smiled at her, whipping the sweat from his forehead, he realised what a mess he must look to the officer, so he cracks another smile at her.

  ‘Spicy food doesn’t agree with me Mam’ I’m truly sorry you had to witness this’ Frank says playfully.

  The women smiles and walks off in front, Frank follows suite, hoping that everyone else buys the spicy food line.

  Twelve

  Turns out the people in the incident room were too wrapped up in what was on the TV then to take too much notice in Frank’s Appearance. Frank caught onto the Disturbing scenes on the TV and realised that he recognised the person talking on the box.

  Connor chase was on the Telly giving a speech on what looked like a handheld camcorder. He was surrounded by militia like men with heavy weaponry, all of which who were staring into the screen. Their eyes were only visible because of the fact that they were wearing ski masks. All but one man, Connor was wearing no ski mask; his face was bare and proud as he ranted into the camera. The news headline flashing underneath him read:

  “M.I.T building taken over by terrorists”

  Frank watched and listened to what Chase was spewing out on Live TV. The profanity in his speech was being censored out by the news channel, which said at least to Frank that the message was pre-recorded.

  ‘I stand here before you today America, as a victim of the Free world’s Liberal ways, A world where information is exchanged for the almighty Dollar. A world where people are numbers and their true value is measured in equity. I stand here today as a man that will be branded as a terrorist, a serial killer, and a lunatic. But I stand here today, in front of my fellow people, people who are the same as me, people who work for a living, even people who are unlucky enough to have not found a job; I stand here today in front of my United States of America. I have transgressed, according to the laws of the land that is. I have killed my fellow man, but let it be known that those people who died are better off dead than witnessing one more day of Americas and the worlds ludicrous price on so called freedom. You may ask why I am on the TV and I’m here to answer that. I’m here to declare my war on America, a war that will divide the tyranny that this country so fondly embraces, and I’m here to teach them all a thing or two. My mission has already started, and on the hour every hour I will digress a little more information until 12 hours’ time, where the talking stops and the business begins.’ Connor says his voice remains stern through the TV.

  Frank pulls himself together trying not to look out of the game. Eddie smith walks over to him with a scowl on his face. Frank braces himself for whatever is coming.

  ‘I can’t believe this shit Frank. How in the hell did Connor manage to get into the M.I.T building. I thought that M.I.T specialised in security, and a paranoid hick with a small army got in there?’ Eddie said, his scowl still embracing his face like a new found mask.

  ‘I don’t know sir. I’m sure this can be resolved. Is there any word on whether he has hostages?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure he has, I mean you don’t declare war on somebody without having an advantage, a bargaining chip that will make us play nice. The sort of upper hand that will stop us going in there and massacring his army.’

  ‘All bets are off then’ says Frank. Eddie looks at him as if to say yes, and he’s sorry for the inconvenience.

  Thirteen

  It’s been 50 minutes since Connor was plastered all over the news as the man to watch in America, as usual when a case like this pops up, the media did not help things with their incisive way of dramatizing an already dramatic enough situation. Frank was pondering that very fact while sitting down staring into his mug of black coffee in the canteen.

  He had time to get a quick bite to eat before Connors next video, which he assumed would be in less than 10 minutes time. He looked at his watch, it was 2.50 PM. He thought to himself how long the day has been, even though it was barley done. After all there was still the whole night to keep him busy.

  Nine minutes to go he thought.

  There is not a whole lot a man thinks about when faced with these sorts of situations. Frank was thinking about how to escape the odds at hand, not how to overcome them. He was worried for his job security and couldn’t run the risk of getting found out. He didn’t want to be known as the guy that once had it all, a wife, a few kids and a promising career as a detective. He had already lost both his wife and children. She left him because he hadn’t left his work at work; he liked to bring it home with him, including all the pill popping that came with it. He needed this job. He needed to get Connor Chase and secure his future. Call it selfish but Frank didn’t care.

  He looked down at his watch again. Eight minutes to go.

  Time was moving slow. He sipped on his coffee and looked around the canteen, his eyes getting lost in the emptiness of the room. He was the only one there. He thought that maybe people didn’t have the stomach to eat or drink anything, but he wasn’t any one. He knew that he had to keep focused on the case and to do that he needed to do to look after himself. That’s when the guilt set in. Frank knew he shouldn’t have taken that hit of heroin less than an hour ago. He regretted it, the feeling of not being in control was weighing heavy on him.

  He thought that maybe that’s what made him who he was. His demons ever present nipping at his subconscious at every chance they had. He thought maybe that’s what fuelled Frank McKenzie to spur on to victory. He realised that it would consume him and destroy him, but he needed that edge that normal detective’s didn’t have. Where there’s smoke there’s fire and he needed as much heat as possible going into this thing. Then it hit him.

  Fourteen

  Frank made his way to the incident room where he planned on talking to the DA. When he got there from the short walk from the canteen, he was too late. The news was on air and a live feed of Connor Chase was playing on the TV. What Frank wanted to say had to wait, Business had just picked up.

  Connor was standing in the same room as before. Only 2 guards stood next to him this time. The space that the small army took up in the previous video was now vacant. Frank could only dare to think why. The sound of a static microphone was heard on the TV, and then Connor Chase cleared his throat.

  ‘I am here again with the pressing issue of why I’m doing this. As I can imagine t
hat’s what’s on the end of everybody’s lips. As you can probably tell I’m not shy on showing my face. Be that as it may, my fellow helpers in this revolution are. They can wear their masks because I’m the one that everybody is interested in. Don’t get me wrong here, without my men I could not do this. It took 5 years of planning and the movement is finally underway. I have with me 45 men that are heavily armed. They shall remain armed until the last minute and they are willing to lay their lives down on the line. Our cause is a noble one. For every revolution there is a face behind it. Believe me when I tell you I am that face. That is the reason why mine is not covered. The ski masks on my men’s faces are symbols of what we want to achieve. Every man on earth has the god given right of being anonymous, a right that has been taken away through the advent of census collecting and information harvesting. I’m here today to let the US government know that this will stop and it will stop today! I have in my possession 193 hostages. They all work here and were easy pickings when we took this building by force. The US government values its citizens. And on the open market I know that if I had a document that contained information regarding 193 people then I would be a rich man. I’m not after money and as that will sure come as a shock to you; I am just as serious as someone driven by greed. I want change to take effect, I want the 28 amendment. It shall be a law in which every person has the right to their privacy at any means necessary. Just like I have the right to protect my home from invasion by force, my privacy and that of my fellow Americans will be protected my international laws. If you don’t have privacy then what have you got? If you don’t comply with my demands then I shall kill all the hostages. I’m going all in; I expect nothing less from the government. But please don’t waste my time by trying to be heroes. It’s as simple as this: YOU HAVE 7 HOURS TO MAKE THE AMENDMENT TAKE EFFECT. IF YOU DO NOT COMPLY, IT’S GAME OVER FOR THE HOSTAGES.’