Book Two: Part Four - Binding Evil - Chapter Six
Monday Morning – September 3rd
The Squad Room – 8:29 a.m.
“… and finally, tonight will mark the seventy-fifth anniversary of our traditional fireworks display. All I’m asking, be you on duty or not, be extra watchful and careful, and be on the lookout for pranksters. We’ve not had anyone injured since I’ve been on the force, and that’s close to fourteen years. Let’s work to keep that record intact. Montie: 75. Accidents:0.
“On that note, get out there and stay safe and keep our streets safe.”
“Hey, Baker!”
“Yes, Satchell?”
“I hear tell something else is in the wind.”
“What would that be?”
“A little birdie called a little while ago and told us something pretty incredible.”
“Satch, just spit it out why don’t you?”
“Word’s out that you and Manning, are going to tie the knot.”
The team let out a roar of whoops, whistles, and hollers.
Baker looked to Ed, and he shrugged his shoulders as if to say it wasn’t him that let the cat out of the bag. Then she knew. Stevie had called.
She broke into a grin and received hugs from her team, as Ed was slapped on the back, shaking hands so much he later remarked, “If I had been milking a cow for as much as I shook hands, we wouldn’t need milk or cheese for a year.”
But what they both had planned for, a civil ceremony, didn’t get out. As it stood, Captain Todd made that very clear in his office right after the meeting.
“Baker, Manning, sit down. I have something to say and when I’m finished, there will be no room for discussion. Are we clear on this?”
Both nodded, knowing when Captain Todd made up his mind on something, it was set in stone. His voice sounded gravelly than before; but when you have a bullet pierce your lung, you would sound different as well.
“I just checked our police emer4gency funds, and I’m happy to say we’ve spent almost two-thousand less, since this time last year, and that’s a good thing.
“Have you two set a wedding date yet?”
Ed spoke up.
“We had been thinking September twenty-second. This September that is. Since we work here at the Twenty-Second, we thought it was rather fitting.”
“Captain,” jumped in Baker, “what’s going on?”
“It’s simple, Baker. The Twenty-Second is paying for your wedding, as well as for all the food and reception later. It’s our gift to two of the finest cops I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.
“And if you decline, you’ll be suspended without pay.”
Before Baker or Ed could respond, Captain Todd added, “Just kidding on the last part.”
“I don’t know what to say, other than thank you.”
“And thank you both for your outstanding loyalty and service. You run a great team, Baker, the best in the county. Between you and Ed, you two have the best arrest and conviction ratio in the entire state per capita. That’s another reason why we’re paying for your wedding.
“Then, there is one other thing.” Captain Todd’s voice became very serious.
“January of next year, I’m retiring. It’s a promise I made to Elaine. I don’t break my promises to her. Come January, the Twenty-Second will need a new Captain, and I would rather see one of our own get the nod than someone from another station, or from out of state that hasn’t a clue about the men and women that work here.
“To be fair, I’m throwing both of your names in the hat to replace me. Come November, the Selectmen of the City Council, along with the Mayor, will review all the files submitted, and will make a fair and impartial decision.
“If the nod goes to you, Baker, then Ed will become Chief of Detectives. Lieutenant Manning, but I’ll still call you Manning, Ed.” Captain Todd grinned.
“And that is that. If you have any questions, save’em. What I just explained is all the answers you are going to get. There are four others in line along with you two.
“Now get out of my office and go do what you do best. Get out there and be safe, and it is still my city. Keep it safe.”
Without a word said, Baker and Ed stood up to leave. As Ed opened the door, Captain Todd caught their attention once more.
“Congratulations to the both of you, and thanks for everything you did in my absence. Especially you, Baker. Elaine was quite taken with you. Again, thank you both very much.”
They walked out of his office, out of the building to their cars to do the job they are paid to do.
But not before they hugged and kissed each other first.
2356 Cranston Way
UPS Special Delivery – 2:44 p.m.
The doorbell rang.
Alexandria peeked out from behind a lace curtain and saw a large truck with the letters, UPS, on it.
She saw a young man, perhaps early twenties, standing at the front door with a crate on a small carry all.
She turned to call for Ronald.
When she explained to him who it was, he simply said, “Open the blasted door and sign for the package, girl.”
She did.
The young man wanted to know where she wanted him to drop off the crate, when Ronald entered the room and said, “Follow me.”
Straight through the living room, then to the right of the overly large kitchen that led into a back room, where just to the inside right, was a screened patio room attached. He told the driver to drop it off inside the patio room.
“If you like sir, I have the tools available in the truck to cut and remove the bands for you, and jack open the boards as well.”
“No, that isn’t necessary. I can do that myself. Thank you.”
He reached out to shake the deliveryman’s hand, and when he pulled away, he left a folded fifty-dollar bill in the young man’s hand.
“Sorry, sir, but I’m not allowed to receive tips.”
“Tips? What tips? Alexandria? Do you see any tips running around in here?”
To be somewhat brazen for a moment, her hands casually fell across both of her breasts to rest seductively on each nipple.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You said tips. My mistake. No, I don’t see any tips in here at all.”
As Ronald walked the young man to the door, he said, “Have a wonderful holiday, and good day to you.”
As the young man got back in his truck to head for his next delivery, with only six more to follow, he spoke out loud while backing the truck onto the street.
“Hell, why not. He ain’t gonna call the company, and I’m not about to come clean on the fifty. That guy in there sure seemed like a strange enough bird, but I’m not gonna complain. That guy’s old lady, man, what a stacked chick she is. Lucky dude.”
In the next minute, he was down the street and around the corner and out of sight.
Inside the house, Ronald brought out his own cutting tool, along with a hammer to peel back the nailed boards.
Once fully opened, he pulled away all the packing material before he spied what he was after. All the essentials they would need to complete their mission; as Alexandria saw it. It was a contract hit as Ronald saw it. Payday.
Two especially designed, high-powered .451 Magnum-Plum Spencer rifles. Both were molded from the original Spencer from over a hundred-fifty years ago, but with far more incredible accuracy. Only ten of these rifles even exist.
Maximum range: 4,000 yards. But for complete accuracy, 3,000 was ideal. For what their task entailed, 1,500 would be more than enough for Alexandria. Ronald would make the kill shot at around 3,000 yards.
Tomorrow, they would begin the assembly and disassembly of the Spencer, until they could do it in their sleep. Ronald already could. But Ronald (really Timothy Braden), always plays out his plans close to the vest.
He almost felt bad for what was going to happen to Alexandria.
Almost.
She knew the alternate plan.
Twenty-one days to countdown.
9:25 p.m.
The day, like the weekend, went without incident.
The park was crowded as people watched and waited for the first of the fireworks to appear as if by magic in the night sky.
Cars were lined up and down the city streets, and people could be found sitting or standing on the hoods waiting for the first flash of brilliant light to appear and light up the night.
A few of the older folks would sit on their front porches with what they considered to be the best view of all. Others just opened their windows and peered out into a black sky with billions and billions of small twinkling stars and a somewhat out of focus half-moon, and then 9:30 came.
The first barrage of colored lights burst in wide arcs blocking the view of the stars.
One of the bands on stage started playing, ‘America the Beautiful’, as rocket after rocket were fired into the air and thunderous explosions in reds and greens, blues, yellows, and oranges; or they would explode all at once, fanning outward as if to cover the entire city.
Then came the multiply firings, up to ten at a time, and when they went off, the entire downtown was covered in light for a good twenty seconds.
The Star-Spangled Banner could be heard playing as more fireworks pummeled the evening sky, but an amazing thing happened.
Everyone took up the song and began to sing. By the time they finished, “o’er the land and of the free, and the home, of the, brave,” every bit of remaining rockets and shooters available assailed the night sky, and with a resounding reverberation never felt before; it left you in awe of perhaps a rare and very special moment.
Of course, the following Tuesday would mark the eleventh anniversary of 911.
Most people that Labor Day night, would tell you they remembered the families and friends, and those unsung heroes that fell on that tragic day.
One older man was heard to say as the crowd broke up and people headed home, “Eleven years. Seems like it just happened.”