Ghosts: Catu Boo 01

Samantha's Apartment

"Rise

and shine sleepy head," Sam says with a smile. "I didn't think you'd be here this morning."

"Coffee?" he asks as she stood there in a robe with a two cups of coffee in her hands.

"No hello?" she asks in return with a smile. "Black with sugar, just like you like it?"

"Sorry Sam," he says apologizing. "Just had a rough night."

"The dream again?"

Not the dream. If only Sam knew the things he saw. Well what would she do anyhow? Think he's crazy for one.

"No," he says. "Just too many thoughts running through my mind. Really just restless."

This for the most part was the truth. He didn't like to lie to people, especially Sam. It wasn't right, it was just plain wrong. Yet he had to keep his abilities a secret. Mostly he was able to do so.

She sits down next to him. "Spence I've been your partner for what," she pauses to think, "six years now? I know when something else is bothering you."

"No, it's nothing, really," he says not sounding real convincing.

"C'mon now," she pokes him in the ribs. "You know I'm here one hundred percent. I understand you're not ready to share with me. When you are ready though, I'll be waiting."

That's Sam for you, always caring and understanding. That was something he never had growing up with his uncle. His uncle was a dedicated cop and had little tolerance for situations like this.

Bringing him out of his reverie Sam asks, "So wanna hit the bagel shop on the way in?"

"Sure, why not?"

Great, let me get dressed. Seeing how you already are, we'll get going shortly," she says. She got up and went to the bedroom.

It took fifteen minutes and once again Spencer was shocked and amazed. Sam went from bath robe to work clothes and make-up in such a short time. He spent many nights over, from long hours, and it still amazed him each time she did it.

"Wow, you look great," he says with a shake of his head. "I don't know how you do it, but you'll have to teach me some time."

Giggling, she says in a southern-like voice, "Oh Spence, ya sho' know how to treat a woman right."

She only did things like that in front of him, one of the qualities he liked. Of course that was one of the things she could clearly see.

"Oh my," she continued with her impression. "Are you turning all red just for me suga?"

Clearly caught off guard and stumbling for his words he says, "Ah, we're late and gotta go."

With a chuckle still in her voice, she asks, "My car or yours?"

"Yours and you can drive."

This was going to be another long day, probably an eventful one at that.

——

Hey

boss!" Fredrich shouts as he runs down the long hall.

"If it's bad news, I don't

even

want to hear it," Hanson replies.

"Well shit boss," Fredrich says almost afraid to continue.

Hanson was never a nice guy; nice probably wasn't even in his vocabulary.

"For once I'd like something good to come from you," says Hanson. "What is it now?"

"It's that bitch, she's refusing to eat."

"Son of a --" Hanson starts but realizing getting angry wouldn't help, at least not yet. "Fine, she don't want to eat, we'll give her a good beating. We need her alive if we want the Americans to believe us. This way when we put her on television, she'll have a few bruises to show we mean business."

Walking away laughing, he says over his shoulder. "Prepare the chamber."

Fredrich shudders at the thought. The chamber was not a pleasant place for anyone. Whether prisoner or punisher, it felt as if sorrow hung in the air. Perhaps it did, he couldn't count on his fingers or toes how many have been tortured there. For that matter, not a whole lot were able to make it out alive. Hanson seemed to almost enjoy it so much, he often admitted he meant to stop, but got into it too much.

"No problem boss," he hesitates slightly. "Right away boss."

The things

Ghost

had done in the past, stuff that would make normal people's stomach turn, was no match for what he felt at the moment. Strangely for him, the chamber always got his insides churning.

——

Sam

was a big Christian music listener and over time Spencer got into it. Since the death of his mother, Spencer had been on a rocky walk with God. He never could understand why God gave him these abilities, but not the power to save his mother. Over time though, he begin to understand Him a little.

His uncle wasn't a real religious man, but he walked as straight of a path as Spencer ever seen. His uncle explained to him, it wasn't for us to question God, but follow his laws and in the end everything would turn out just fine. It took Spencer years to appreciate that advice, but eventually he took it to heart. Over the years, Sam's choice in music came to sound good and enjoyable.

As if sharing his thoughts she asks, "How is your uncle doing? Is he still police chief back home?"

Home. Good old Elwood, Indiana. Far different than what he called home now.

"Yeah, he's still police chief," he says. "I haven't talked to him in a few months though."

"That's too bad," she says thinking about her own parents. "You shouldn't go so long without keeping in touch."

"You're right, but with our schedules, it gets hard to find time."

"Time is what you make of it Spence."

Tell me about it.

"Now to find a parking space," her voice trails off.

"Just pull over there," he says. "I'll run and get breakfast."

"Alright, but make it fast. We're already running behind this morning."

Sam pulled off to the side, Spence jumps out the door before the car was even in park.

"I didn't mean that fast," she shouts after him.

——

Are

the cameras ready?" asks Hanson. He was feeling a jolt of excitement pulsing through his body.

"Fredrich is almost set up," says Rudolph.

"And the feed?" asks Hanson. Everything had to be perfect, this was going to be

Ghost's

moment,

his

moment.

"Yuri is tapped in, ready for the signal."

"Good, get the girl ready."

Turning to the small group of soldiers he says, "This is the moment, the American government will not underestimate us or anyone else anymore. They like keeping secrets; this is one they will not be able to cover up. Today we will show America and every other government like them. The people will have a voice! We will lead the people and things will be our way!"

Cheers went up. Shouts of praise to Hanson and for

Ghost

followed.

Hanson got the signal for a go on the cameras, just as Rudolph brought Sara into the room.

With a raised hand, Hanson quiets the group and in a low voice says, "It's time."

——

Waiting

for their bagels to finish, Spencer decided to occupy his time with watching the news. He didn't care for it, especially when the media talked about terrorist activities. His line of work they couldn't even begin to understand the severity of what went on in the world.

The average person would shit themselves if they knew how things really were

.

"Sir?" says the bakery assistant. "You're bagels are done. Anything else we can help you with?"

"No thanks."

Walking toward the condiments Spencer couldn't help but notice how the people in the shop just stopped what they were doing. He had pretty much blocked out what the news was saying, but now had a keen interest.

"—see we mean business. You're government was warned of the situation,"

the terrorist was saying.

How the hell did they get on the air?

"This," the terrorist takes off the mask off the person in the chair, "is your President's daughter."

Almost everyone in the shop took a collective gasp. This was going to end up a catastrophe and the press is going to have a field day with it.

There are the balls Roger said they didn't have.

"As we have warned your government, if they do not follow with our demands," a smile formed on his face, "then we will broadcast again to all America her execution. Do not believe in false hope we will not follow through. Ghost has always meant business, and if we are not taken seriously, then killing this girl will be just another day of business for us. Good day America, start hoping your government does right. And remember if it doesn't we will strike over and over again until it does."

He stopped talking only to stare into the camera as if staring down all America. The eyes of a killer were even enough to give Spencer a sort of chill.

When he spoke again, it was in a softer tone than before, "

Just think how easy it will be for us to take one of your children and do the same,"

raising his voice back to a commanding tone,

"I will not hesitate to air the execution of any American child of any age for the whole world to see."

With that the feed was cut. Vanished. Spencer felt at a loss; this was getting worse, worse than any case the agency had to ever face before. How they were able to pull getting that much air time meant they had resources. He believed as probably anyone in the shop did, the terrorists could make the threat and damn well keep it.

Remembering where he was, he drops the bagels and ran for the door. By the time he got outside Sam had already pulled up out front.

"We got t—" he started the say.

"I know, Roger called and I heard it on the radio."

"Damn, they took over the radio too?" he says in disbelief.

She looks at him questionably, "Oh no, not television also?"

Nodding his head he says, "I'm sure it's worse than that too."

They were silent the rest of the drive to the agency. Thoughts about what just happened changed the scope of the whole situation. Terrorists always did mean business, but this was far beyond anything any terrorist was willing to do.

——

Please

tell what the hell just happened," the President says to his Chief of Staff.

"I don't know sir," the chief of Staff says not really knowing quite what to say.

"Does anyone know?" asks the President.

"Currently every agency is working on that, and the media is about to have a field day. To add fuel to the fire, the Americans are going to be madder at the presidency more than your daughter being kidnapped."

This threw the President off a little. "What? Why?" he asks.

He was going to lay a burden on the President, that he knew the President was not going to like. "Dave, to be honest," he says pausing to take a deep breath. "To be honest, the fact of your daughter's kidnapping not being released to the public for one. Then the fact terrorists were able to get in control of radio and television networks and us, the government, couldn't do anything to stop them. They're going to put blame on someone and since you're our leader, it will be you."

He stops to let it all sink in. The President wasn't a stupid man, quite to opposite. Graduate at MIT at the age of fourteen, philanthropologist by the age of seventeen. He later became a senator to help people and when given the opportunity for the presidency, he jumped at the idea. Just the thought of the people blaming him was repulsive.

"What do we do John?" he asks the Chief of Staff.

John Bowling, a great strategist. He served in the Army for thirty-five years, spending the last twelve as a general. His experience along with being friends with the vice-President helped him obtain the Chief of Staff position.

"As I see it," Bowling says, "we have two choices. The first is we give the terrorists what they want, if that is even a possible approach. The second we don't give in. Unfortunately either way we don't have many options."

"No you're right we don't," the President says looking sullen.

"Have you gotten any sleep, at all?" asks Bowling.

"No, not really," he says. "With Sara gone, I can't sleep at all. Sandra's at her wits end, she can't believe it's our daughter that was taken. Of course She's blaming me a little for it happening. In a way I guess she's right, if I'd not ran for President, this wouldn't be happening."

"You're right," says Bowling. "However, it would happen to whoever the President was."

"I'm all out of answers. I want to give in, see if the terrorists will give an extension." McKinsey says in an almost silent voice.

"Sir, you can't just give up. You have an obligation to the American people for God's sake," Bowling says with an angered voice.

How can he just sit there and give up like this.

"Damn it John, just what would you have me do? It's a win-lose no matter which way we take it. I'm not ready to sacrifice my daughter on some idea that it will solve the problem and everything will just go away. You heard their threats. They've already shown that they are more capable than we had thought in the first place."

"If you want my option sir."

"Of course, that's why I chose you for this position."

"If it were my daughter, I'd probably feel the same way. Hell, I may even be ready to give up, but the fact of the matter is you don't have that option. You chose to serve the people, keep peace for all Americans, and most of all protect them. If you don't do this, you'll send a message to all the people that they can't rely on the government to protect them. Then any and all terrorists will think of us as weak, and these things will never stop happening."

Sitting, McKinsey turns to look out the window. "May God forgive me if I make the wrong choice here John."

"Sir, right now I don't think God wants to deal with this problem," Bowling says knowingly.

"I'll need to get full support from every organization. If the American people want action then we'll give it to them. Set up a conference, I'll address the American people and let them know where we stand. We have never given in to terrorists and we won't now." McKinsey spoke as if his daughter's life wasn't on the line.

"Shall I get the speech writer's on it?" asks Bowling.

"No, I'll do this. I'm the President after all; nobody should expect any less of me."

Nodding, Bowling turned to leave the office.

"And John?"

"Yes sir?"

"Please have an aid find my wife; she is the one person I'll definitely have to do some explaining to."

"Right away sir."

Alone in his office, McKinsey felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. What he was about to do wasn't just for the American people, but for all nations everywhere. What affected them, affected the entire world, and if America could be pushed, just imagine who else could. The world would be overrun with terrorism in no time and he'd be the pinnacle for such a catastrophic event. He wouldn't have it and he definitely was not going to give in.

He stared out the window turning his head upward to heaven, "God, please let me make the right decision and let me save my little girl."

——

Spencer

and Sam raced through the parking garage looking for any available parking spot. Not having any luck, Spencer says, "The hell with it, just park off to the side."

"Spence this is my car we're talking about here," Sam says in protest. "I'll be lucky to not have it towed."

"Don't worry Sam. We'll get someone to move it for us."

They had to get to HQ as fast as possible. They knew the severity of the situation, but with Roger calling them in what seemed every five minutes, it must have been worse. Spencer couldn't help but feel he was one step closer to failing to keep his promise to Samantha.

"Alright then, but if my car disappears, I'm taking yours," she says with a devious grin.

"As long as I get to drive every now and then."

Humor between them is what helped them deal with situations like this. In this field, dealing with terrorist activity every day could and had put people down a path of destruction. When CATU was first created, the selection process was the same for any new recruit to the FBI. Over time, however, most people weren't cut out to deal with the pressure of things. Many missions dealt with covert operations or spying. Having a family only made it worse for some. So the selection process got tougher and even the few that made it in still needed an outlet.

That outlet, as discovered was partnerships. It was an age old tactic used in a variety of fields.

"There," says Spencer pointing.

Pulling into the empty area, they were about to get out when Spencer got an overwhelming feeling.

"Wait," he says.

"First you're in a hurry, no—"

"

Trust

me," he interrupted.

Sam knew when he told her to trust him; there was a good reason to do so.

Spencer looked around, looking for anything out of the ordinary. The parking garage was reasonably well lit. Out of the corner of his eye, something in the shadow looked to have moved. He turned his head in that direction only to see anything.

Seeing the look on Spencer's face, Sam was beginning to become worried.

"Spence is everything alright?"

"I don't know," he was about to say, instead he yelled, "Get out of the car!"

Without hesitation Sam open the door and dove out. Spencer followed out her door and covered her. A second later the car exploded with a deafening sound. Spencer heard it before he saw it. Standing up and a little disoriented he tried to brace himself for the attack. He didn't bother to attempt to reach for his gun knowing there wouldn't be time to use it. The creature slammed with enormous speed, knocking the air out of him.

They flew a few feet away and into a wall. For a brief moment Spencer was knocked unconscious. The creature turned from him toward the direction of Sam. Instantly instinct took over, she withdrew her gun and fired at the creature. Since she could see it, the creature had obviously chosen to let her go. As she fired at it, she thought she could hear a voice in her head speaking. Like subtle whispers telling her not to hurt the creature. She tried to ignore it and fired her gun. Samantha was one of the best marksmen in the unit, yet every shot she took missed.

Spencer woke when he heard a gun being fired. Briefly he forgot where he was, until the bullets were flying so close to his head. He managed to get a glance at where they were coming from.

Why is she firing at me?

Not realizing she was able to see the creature.

Sam emptied her clip. Once again the voice urged her to shy away from reloading. Hindering her from doing so gave the creature ample time to reach her. The beast grabbed her by the throat and lifted her in the air.

Gasping for air she says, "Spence...get this...thing off...me."

That moment is when Spencer realized she could see it. This creature attacking wasn't just randomly attacking. The fact it allowed a human to see it meant it was sent to do a job, a job it planned to finish.

"Hang on Sam!" he shouts.

Spencer reached for a pouch on the back of his belt. Regular bullets could wound a creature of

Hades

, but it could recover much too fast. To solve this, Spencer had hollow point rounds filled with holy water. Holy water seemed to be the answer to almost all things evil. When he was still a young boy, a man approached him about demon hunting. Knowing Spencer was much too young he left him with that one piece of advice.

Spencer never saw him again.

"Not the time to be lost in thought," he says to himself.

Loading the special clip into his gun and yelled at the creature, "Be a nice beast and come play with me!"

Growling, the beast looks at Sam.

I'll enjoy killing you, but first let me squash the little bug

.

It threw Sam into a nearby car, knocking her unconscious.

All the better.

Alright little man, let me see what you got. What's that little gun going to do, pinch me?