Ghosts: Catu Boo 01

D.C. General, Out Patient Center

"How

are you feeling?" asks Spencer as he walks into the hospital room where Samantha was staying.

"Surprisingly good," she responds.

"Getting let go soon?"

"She'll be ready in about five minutes," the nurse answers for Sam.

They stay silent for a moment as the nurse finishes her duties in the room. She looks at Sam and says, "I'll be right back with your discharge papers."

As she walks out of the room the nurse throws a glance at Spence and smiles.

"What was that about?" questions Sam.

"What?" he says with a tone of

I don't know what you're talking about.

They both laugh. Sam always notices how other women give Spencer glances and smiles. For the most part it didn't bother her, but lately it has kind of made her feel jealous. Was it alright to be more involved with your partner? She spent times thinking about it and never coming to a conclusion to her question.

"Thank you Spence."

"For?"

"For taking such good care of me."

"Hey, what are partners for?"

This brought a smile to her face. Spencer always liked the way Sam lit up, especially when she smiled. It had in turn always brought a smile to his face.

"Has anything transpired since I've been out of it?" asks Sam.

"I tried to get the guy we caught to break last night. All we were able to get from him was his name."

"What of any of Yonovich's men?"

"They all were more than willing to talk since their boss was dead. They provided more than enough information for all the crimes Yonovich committed, but help us with nothing. Apparently they were kept out of the loop with dealing with

Ghost

. That though is our only link that this

Yuri

guy belongs to them."

At that moment Spencer's phone rang.

"Reeds."

"Spence," Roger says, "we got a break. Our guy finally talked. He's going to be transferred to protective custody. I need you two to get here ASAP."

"Understood. We'll be leaving as soon as Sam's dressed."

"Good. Make it fast."

He hangs up the phone and smiles.

Finally a break.

Sam is already in action getting dressed.

"I'll go let the nurse know we're leaving," he says heading out the door.

He steps into the hall and a sudden feeling over comes him. There is no one in sight. The only sound he could hear is the standard noises of medical equipment. No talking, whispers or any other human sounds.

He looks back into the room at Sam. "Something's wrong Sam, get ready."

He pulls out his gun from its holster and starts to walk toward the nurse's station. A sudden gut wrenching noise comes from the ceiling behind him, then another.

There's definitely something wrong.

——

Mathsen

is occupying a roof top five hundred feet away from the FBI building. The decoy escort has already left, now it was a waiting game for the real escort. The whole morning he spent looking for a good set up. Out of three, he picked this one, it just felt right.

These guys want to win.

He had a knowing feeling at the back of his mind. In order to get his revenge he has to participate in acts of terrorism to accomplish it. Several times he thought of blotching this mission. It was better to die honorably than to die a traitor. But he decided revenge was better than no revenge at all.

Pushing his thoughts aside as the real escort pulls out, he sets up his aim. He pulls in a breath and holds it. Time seems to slow like it always has on these kinds of missions. Slowly the third SUV pulls out. Through his scope he can see the target clearly as if right next to him.

Sorry friend, but business is business.

He squeezes the trigger. Before Mathsen can fully release his breath, the bullet strikes the target. The whole convoy comes to a screeching halt. FBI agents get out of the vehicle, guns out and looking for the threat. He sits still for a few minutes watching the FBI agents scramble and assess the situation. He chuckles to himself. If not for being a professional he may have shot them all.

Quickly he replaces his rifle in its custom case and slips down the fire escape.

——

What

the hell just happened out there?" Roger questions.

"The prisoner has been killed," says an agent.

"Get a chopper in the air and people on the ground. I want this damn sniper found!" Roger yells.

He didn't like yelling but this was starting to get to him as well as everyone on this case.

We go forward a step and get knocked back three.

"Alert all the police precincts and get Director McMillan on the phone," he yells again.

He is standing in the center of the room that housed all the desks for the agents of CATU. Agents are coming and going. Calls are coming in at an alarming rate. The calls that come into the FBI that pertained to the case were transferred here. Nobody is prepared for this. Most of the calls come from witnesses that were in the vicinity of the shooting. Miraculously not one person saw the shooter.

"Sir," an agent says to Roger holding a phone outstretched.

He takes the phone from the agent. "Cornelius."

"Roger, what can I do for you?" McMillan asks.

"I need any agents you have available for a city block search."

"Now?"

"Preferably now."

"No problem. Give me a few minutes; I'll have thirty agents at your office."

"Thanks, Frank."

"No problem. You owe me one."

Roger hangs up the phone and looks for an available agent. "Marks? Get on the phone and find out where Reeds and Roberts are and get them here.

——

Mathsen

cursed himself as he ran from alley to alley. The police and everybody else were out looking for him.

Damn I shouldn't have waited so long.

He is about to leave the alley and run across the street when a helicopter flies overhead. He turns, deciding to back track. Racing back down the way he came, he almost makes it to the end before a black car pulls in. His first thought is danger, but he is ready to pass it off as coincidence until he recognizes the car. The same car Kloser was getting into when he attempted to kill him.

The car comes to a halt and the driver yells out the window, "Get in!"

How the hell did he find me?

A door in the back opens and without hesitation Mathsen jumps in.

"Good to see you weren't captured. I'd hate to have to use favors to spring you," Kloser says pouring a glass of wine.

"Good to see you too," he says with relief flooding into his voice.

"Drink?" Kloser asks.

"Sure," Mathsen says, happy he made it out of that. This was one of the few times he got caught in a fix. He could count on one hand the amount of times this had happened and still have fingers left. Special Forces taught a person how to strike and disappear, using stealth and evasion. Of course the one thing someone never wanted to do was linger. It's always best to have a sure shot, take it and then go. If a shot is taken then there is no need to look or the shot should have never been fired.

He never had a problem with that rule; it was the lingering to see how the enemy reacted that had got him each and every time. A mistake he vowed to not make again.

Kloser hands him a glass full of red wine. Tasting it he nearly gags. "How old is this stuff?" he asks.

"It's of a very old vintage, 1873 to be exact," replies Kloser.

"Whoa, how the hell did you come across this?"

"Let's just say it's been in my family for quite some time."

"Yeah sure," Mathsen says. He changes the subject. "I know you showing up, mysteriously mind you, to save me isn't all you have in mind."

"You're right; I can see why Delgrious kept you alive. You're not only exceptionally skilled but smarter than most people. No I'm here to collect you from certain capture and assign you another job."

"Who says I'd be captured?" Mathsen asks confidently.

Laughing Kloser says, "Trust me. You were on the verge of capture. If you failed or weren't needed, we'd have let it happen and let them deal with you as a traitor."

The comment stung him deeper than any bullet he'd ever been shot with.

A traitor.

Being branded with that was one thing no man wanted to be branded with. Certainly not him.

Pushing aside his fears he asks, "Who's the next target?"

——

Spencer

pulls his gun from the holster and takes aim at the ceiling ahead of him. He is ready for anything; his feeling of something evil is raging in his head.

He is diving back into the room as gun fire erupts from the hall. The sound of chairs and gurneys be overturned are heard.

"How many are there Spence?"

"Don't know, didn't get a chance to ask."

"Fuck. Are any of the staff in danger?" Sam questions.

"That's the curious part, the floor was completely empty."

Shouts are being yelled as whomever was in charge of the assault is getting his men into position. Spencer feels the feeling of evil once again, this time closer than before. Suddenly the ceiling in the room collapses and drops down and in comes two creatures.

"Sam! Get the hell out of here!" he yells as he dives into the creatures.

Without hesitation Sam rolls the gurney into the hall and flips it to the side. She draws her gun and start firing in the direction of the soldiers.

Spencer is immediately slung against the wall like a rag doll.

Did she see these two?

He reaches for his special clip, but before he can load it, the gun is slapped from his hand.

Son of a bitch.

The creature grabs him by the throat and slams him into the wall.

Not so tuff are you human?

The creature immediately throws Spencer into the other wall before he has a chance to say anything. Spencer lies on the ground momentarily before looking around.

Where the hell did the other one go?

He can see Sam behind the gurney fighting for her life. She is too busy to look his way or offer any help. He gets up off the ground and dives past the creature as it lunges at him. He rolls to his feet next to an oxygen tank.

"Try this for tuff!"

He kicks the tank toward the creature then grabbing his gun he shoots it. The explosion rocks the floor and throws Spencer through the wall and into the next room. Shaking off the stunned feeling he gets up and looks around. There is no sign of the creature and oddly enough he hears no gunfire.

Before he can collect anymore thoughts, he feels two powerful arms grab him in a bear hug.

Just settle down little human or your friend gets it.

Spencer looks to the room across the hall to see Sam being held against the wall with something sharp pointed at her abdomen. With cool ease he turns his gun in toward the creature and fires several shots. The creature releases him and dissolves like it never existed. Spencer drops and rolls. He stands, takes aim and empties his clip into the creature across the hall. It releases Sam and dissolves like the first.

Relief shadows Sam's face before suddenly changing. One of the soldiers take advantage of the silence and returns gunfire and advances. He lifts his gun to shoot. Spencer tries to fire and realizes his clip is dry.

Stupid. Stupid.

Sam takes two shots and nails the soldier in the back dropping him cold.

"You're getting old Spence," Sam says jokingly.

"Yeah, about now I'm feeling like it."

"What do you want to do?" she asks stepping around the corner and firing to let the others know they are still alive and well.

Spencer looks around; sighting the hole in the floor from the explosion he gets an idea. He looks at Sam, "I got a plan."

"Good cause I'm all out of ideas," she says sarcastically.

"Lead these guys down a floor, I'll meet you there."

"What are you going to do?"

"Set an ambush."

——

How's

the girl holding up?" Hanson questions.

"Considering," he pauses.

"Considering what?" Hanson asks with a hint of anger rising in his voice.

"If you keep torturing her everyday she won't live to the end of the week. I'm just concerned that's all."

"I know you are Rudy, but it sounds like you don't trust my judgment." Hanson sounds almost knowing.

"Of course I trust it. If I didn't I wouldn't have followed you this far."

Hanson holds up his hand before Rudolph can say anymore. His attention has fallen to the television.

A second sniper attack has taken place today. The first was an attempt on Bank President and owner Gerard Kloser. The second has taken place right outside FBI headquarters, while transporting a Yuri Smieloff to a safe house. Smieloff was arrested after a raid the night before on a warehouse. He was one of many part of a gun sale to the terrorist group known as Ghost. Smieloff turned out to be part of that organization and made a deal with the FBI to turn evidence and testify.

The FBI are on a manhunt for the sniper and are asking people to, if possible, remain inside their homes or place of business. They are also urging anyone with any information to contact the FBI.

Hanson is furious. Everything seems to be falling apart around them.

"Fucking coward!" he yells.

"That's probably just the Americans saying that about Yuri," says Rudolph in Yuri's defense.

"No, he's a fucking coward. If it were you or I nothing would be said. We'd die honorably without giving up our brethren."

"What are we to do then?" asks Rudolph.

"We shall make another televised appearance and take claim of the attack on the FBI and the sniper."

"We'll lie and take credit for it?"

"Nobody else is. Besides it will only enforce that we do mean business. I don't see the Americans doing anything to meet our demands. Even their president has said he isn't going to."

"Very well, I shall get Fredrich and the crew ready."

"No Rudy, I'll take care of that. The men are in need of a morale boost. You rest my friend and forgive me for my weakness in doubting you."

"I understand your need to vent, Hanson. I shall not hold it against you."

Hanson walks out the office, plans of what he would say run through his head. Almost immediately the phone rings, as if the person calling is waiting to talk to Rudolph alone.

"Verner."

"This is Stanos, you wished to speak to me," the Vice President states.

"Yes, Mr. President," Rudolph replies. It never hurt to message someone's ego, especially when something is wanted in return. "I take it that we are secure?"

"Of course we are."

"I'll make this to the point.

Ghost

needs your help. As I'm sure you are aware our arms supplier has gone south permanently. We need somebody we can trust and we would like to turn to you."

"I am to guess you need us to make a contribution?" Stanos asks.

"Yes. We know you can make it secure and guarantee nothing will go wrong to insure your change to office will be successful."

"Very well. It will take twenty-four hours to set it up. I'll call you with the time and place. I'll have Bowling personally deliver the goods to you."

"Thank you very much Mr. President."

Stanos hangs up without another word. Rudolph returns the receiver and sits back in the chair.

Where would Hanson be without me?

He eventually decided to get up and go watch Hanson in action. If things didn't happen the way they did all those years ago, Hanson could have became a great actor. He was always good in front of the camera.

——

Sir,

the television!" yells an agent.

Roger immediately knew what he meant. Reaching for the remote he turns on the television. He doesn't have to change a channel, seeing the image he instantly knows what was on every channel. Hanson is standing beside Sara McKinsey, who was clearly tied to a chair looking like she had been recently beaten.

Bastards have to have connections to use this much air time.

The image doesn't change for several minutes before the terrorist finally speaks.

Greetings America. The third day is nearly over and we have seen no effort on your government's part to fulfill their part of our request. We have blown up an FBI building and used a sniper and still we are not feared. Perhaps you do not fear anything, not even God. America has become ignorant with itself. Willing to give away the life of a child.

He paused to gesture toward Sara.

We mean business.

Organizations like CATU, a secret organization within your government thinks they can play games with us. They think they can ignore us and pretend they don't exist just for the purpose of if they fail, due to their overconfidence, they cannot be blamed.

Ghost will not let you be kept in the dark any longer. Too many governments think they can hide the truth from the people, but not any longer. We will start with you America and we will hold fast to our promise. Your government will pull out their authority in every country around the world or we will continue to strike. We will hold to our promises. We will not hesitate to kill this girl nor any of your other children. And we will continue our ways of terror until our demands are met.

Think about it, long and hard. You have four days left, you better use it well.

The screen goes blank. Nobody speaks a word. Then phone ringing breaks the silence. Roger stares at the blank screen in disbelief.

"Sir?" Donna asks. He doesn't realize she has been standing there until she asks for his attention a second time.

"Yeah, sorry. What is it Donna?" he asks. He looks sullen like someone has just sucker-punched him.

"We're getting calls asking about certain individuals."

This brings his attention back to the present. "Who?"

"Several media firms have stated they have information on our agents including you."

"Son of a—, get me the President. Transfer it to my office. Get Frank down here as well."

He half runs to his office.

This has turned into a fiasco. How the hell are we going to save that girls life.

——

As

soon as the cameras cut off, Hanson orders the men to leave the room. They comply and within moments it is just him and Sara McKinsey.

He walks over to her and grabs her hair and yanks her head backward. She whimpers as she tries to hold back the tears. He lets go of her hair and reels back then slaps her in the face. The force of the slap rocks the chair slightly.

She sobs and tears start to fall when he brings out a knife. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you...much." He reaches down and cuts the ropes. They fall to the floor and she looks at him questionably. "Take off your clothes," he orders.

Sara shakes her head in defiance and he raises his hand to strike her, but he doesn't follow through. "I give you the option now or I will do it forcibly."

Sara continues to sob but follows his instructions. Her body quivers and shakes as she places her hands on the waistband of her skirt and pushes it down. She struggles to push it over her hips and a second push free it of her hips. They came away with her panties and she gasps.

"Now lay down," he orders and still reluctant, she does as he commands.

Hanson sets the knife down on the table and sits down beside her. He thrusts his hand up between her thighs and feels the warmth of her pussy. She was warm and soft. A slight moistness is evident on his hand and he can smell just a faint trace of her musk. He thrusts a finger into her roughly. Sara twitches and tries to scream, but he clamps his hand over her mouth.

"You may not enjoy this, but you will also not ruin it for me with your screams," he warns her.

Her scent is strong. The wetness of her gives off the delicate intoxicating smell of a woman. Hanson sucks the stickiness from his finger as the scent rises. Her body would certainly satisfy him. He holds her firmly down against the floor the wall with my forearm crossed over her chest while he undoes his zipper with his other hand. His cock jumps free and he moves forward and slips in between her thighs. Sara realizes how close he is and she starts to squirm against him. Hanson strikes her again. She whimpers and struggles some more. He hits her again and thrusts forward.