THE ALTER: A Psychological Crime Thriller (7 page)

“Where are you going?” she called out.

“I told you, I have one more mission to complete,” he said without looking back.

Ava drew a rifle from the car trunk and aimed it at him. The cranking sound brought him to a standstill.

“I can’t let you kill the mayor. That’s all gonna be on Ryan,” she said.

“I’m doing this
for
Ryan,” he explained with his back still turned.

“There must be another way. I just can’t let you do this,” she insisted.

“Then shoot me,” he said.

After a long pause she lowered the riffle and he stepped off on his trek back to the city.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ava arrived in the city and quickly found her daughter. Concerned colleagues inquired about her well-being and whereabouts, but no one knew just how close she had come to peril. Their questions about Ryan were well anticipated and met with well prepared, diplomatic responses. They could only assume that he had gone into hiding or was captured by the syndicate. Nothing could be further from the truth as he hid in plain sight on park benches under heavy disguise.

Meanwhile, reports of Mateo Alverez death spread like wildfire, as did fear of imminent reprisal. The mayor became intensely occupied with efforts to re-assure the city and preserve order, but deep inside, fear terrorized him. Ryan knew that the mayor was behind the murder of his own wife and others who stood in the way of this multibillion dollar development plan. He knew of his bloody deal with the syndicate. Despite his own vices, the mayor was a different kind of monster, one just as ruthless, but driven by an insatiable desire for wealth and control. He was a monster that both Ryan and his alter agreed was eating away at the city’s foundations. Thus, a deal was struck. Ryan would allow his alter one final act of redemption that would bring this white collar criminal to justice.

After two days and surveillance, he finally knew Mayor Richards’ plans and whereabouts. It wasn’t hard. The mayor had announced a press conference that was advertized on television screens, including those Ryan could see through store windows. Ryan had a plan of his own, one that his more trepid alter ego would have been unwilling and unable to execute.

Mayor Richards stepped onstage for a press conference designed to re-assure the city that everything was under control and that Mateo Alverez death did not mean impending war. His entourage of personal bodyguards and policemen, along with a few other city officials graced the stage and around in a display of unity, strength, and hope. The chief of police sat beside him while Ava searched the crowd for Ryan’s determined alter.

Ryan watched as he lay face down on the top of a building nearby. He blended in perfectly with the unkempt deck and found concealment between large HVAC units. It was the perfect sniper position, however he had no rifle for the mayor’s demise had to be more spectacular and worthy of a man of his stature. The mayor approached the podium with less cheer than he was accustomed to. His audience lingered in anxious concern, eager to hear what solutions he brought. Ryan looked at his watch then clicked the start button on a remote timer he held in his hand. In just sixty seconds his mission would be complete.

A tiny red light began to blink on the back of an unmanned video camera just a few feet away from the podium where the mayor stood. Ryan looked through his binoculars and smiled, marveling at the simplicity and effectiveness of his deadly plot. Collateral damage was likely, but to Ryan’s purpose driven alter, this was a worthy sacrifice.

Forty seconds left on the timer and the mayor was already into his animated delivery. He spoke with a contagious confidence that quickly captivated his listeners. This city, he argued, was not just about systems or infrastructure. He paused then extended his hand to his side, welcoming a symbol of this city’s real treasure. A small group of children walked on stage, to the cheers of the mesmerized crowd. Ava shook her head, disgusted by the exploitation.

Ryan saw the children and a turmoil began inside of him. The thought of sacrificing a few corrupt officials was not enough to awaken his more compassionate side, but the idea of young, innocent victims was more than enough for him to fight his way to the forefront of his consciousness. His determined alter resisted, eagerly awaiting the final seconds before the camera would explode.

“Ryan, this has to be done,” Greg insisted, convinced that sparing the mayor would result in more bloodshed later on.

“No. I’m not going to kill innocent children,” Ryan resisted.

Thirty seconds to go, and the mayor preached while Ryan’s personalities battled for dominance. This was not what they had agreed to. Bring the mayor to justice- that was the deal. There was no redemption is what lay seconds ahead. The conscientious part of him mustered all the strength that he could. It was a rare assertive moment, but Ryan succeeded. He gasped in a brief moment of fright and desperation. He was close enough for a view, but not to raise his voice in warning above the loudspeakers on the podium.

Twenty seconds to go and Ryan fumbled until he found a stolen cell phone in his pocket. There was no way to stop the camera from exploding or dispersing the crowd quickly enough. There was only one way he could think of.

Ava’s phone rang and she struggled to hear above the mayor’s amplified voice. Ryan mumbled incoherently for a few seconds. Ava covered her other hear with one hand and finally recognized his voice. Instantly, she became defensive and signaled to a few nearby police officers.

“Ava, listen to me,” he said with an urgency that silenced her. “There’s a bomb in Camera 2.”

“What?” Ava screamed, scanning the devices near the stage. There were three cameras, all unnumbered, except one.

“It’s going to blow in eleven seconds!” Ryan screamed through the phone.

Her frantic movements caught the attention of everyone, including the mayor who at first seemed annoyed by her indiscretion. She struggled through the crowd, but barely covered a few yards. Desperate, she shouted, “There’s a bomb!” A stampede ensued and people raced in different directions screaming.

Ava reached the stage and took hold of the light, mounted video camera and ran with it towards the back of the stage ready to throw, but there was no open field, only vehicles parked behind. Her heart pounded as she quickly scanned for options. Ryan watched in unbearable suspense from the top of the nearby roof. He looked at the timer with three seconds remaining and turned away in hopelessness, not wanting to see Ava destroyed. With all the strength she could muster, she hurled the camera over the top of the empty school bus and dived to the ground.

It was a heart stopping moment that seemed much longer than the split second it really was. Suddenly, a heavy blast shook the air, sending broken glass and other debris flying in all directions. The wooden backdrop of the stage collapsed violently, while the screams of attendees soared. Ava lay face down on the ground with both hands covering her head. She could feel the hot, angry wind from the blast and her ears rang at the deafening sound. As it subsided, she lifted her dirt stained face just enough to see debris still flying over her head. She looked at the engulfed, mangled remains of the bus that was still rocking from side to side.

A second, just as powerful explosion thundered as leaking fuel ignited beneath the bus. Ava screamed at the severe heat and covered her face once again. More glass flew as other nearby vehicles suffered damage. The blast impact subsided, but the heat became even more unbearable as the bus blazed.

Finally, Ava struggled to her feet and ran in the opposite direction. When she reached the other side of the mangled stage, the crowd was already very far away. She navigated hurriedly through the debris towards them until she stopped at a heartbreaking sight. A young child was lying motionless on the ground with footprints all over her body and a small laceration on the side of her face. Ava fell to her knees beside her and checked for vital signs. There were none. She covered her mouth in a quiet whimper and shook her head slowly from side to side. Though many lives had been saved, she felt responsible for the stampede that likely killed the child.

Ryan watched from the roof as Ava stood looking down at the lifeless young victim. His relief over Ava’s safety was eclipsed by the unbearable grief he felt as he overlooked the horrific scene. If only he had not bargained with his ruthless alter who seemed bent on killing the mayor at any cost, he thought. There was, after all, no redemption. There only remained one indisputable fact that the monster inside him had to be destroyed at any personal cost.

The crowd slowly re-assembled around the body, no longer interested in hearing the mayor’s empty promises. All hopes had just gone up in smoke and nothing the mayor said could console or re-assure them. They were in shock and had reason to mourn. They had cause for dread, and no one could convince them otherwise.

              Ava stood dazed as she looked out at the architectural horizon. She wondered who Ryan really was and what conflicted being would orchestrate such chaos, but still try to save. All she was left with was a memory of one so timid and innocent, and struggled to rationalize it with the savage she now knew. She watched the smoke rise into the air and wondered where he was and what darkness he now combated. Perhaps she should have listened to him and taken the shot, she thought. Little did she realize what would have been the real cost of saving Ryan.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The airwaves ignited with endless streams of reports and speculations about the recent act of terrorism, with the syndicate being the prime suspect. Ryan, knowing very well the truth, was plagued with guilt. Despite his remorse and shame, he mustered up the courage to call Ava. He needed an end to this madness and she was the only one he could turn to. Reluctantly Ava agreed, but she had a plan of her own. It was a difficult decision to make, whether to spare the bad to save the good, or let the good suffer with the bad. She cared about Ryan, but had to neutralize his destructive other. Sacrifices had to be made.

It was nightfall and an old, inconspicuous car pulled up onto the deck of the derelict dock beside a wall of old, empty freight containers. No one traversed this area without special reason. Even those with a need for privacy and concealment sought better options. The car stopped several feet away facing Ava’s, and its headlights flashed three times.

Ava stepped out of her car and walked up to meet Ryan who had not yet exited his. As she neared, the driver’s door opened and an unexpected large figure stepped out. Ava came to an abrupt halt.

“Mr. Mayor, what are you doing here?” she said, frightened and anxious. She looked around then noted his transformed image. His apparel was worn and ordinary, and blended in a lot better than the ostentatious attire he usually wore.

He slammed the car door shut and stepped along the corridor beside the large containers. Ava took a step backwards. 

“I know you didn’t expect to see me, but I just had to thank you for what you did. You saved my life and the lives of countless others yesterday. Well, maybe except that little girl,” he said, ending in a sarcastic tone.

Ava remained silent. She listened carefully and watched his every move.

“I know you’re wondering how I knew where to find you and the whole headlight signal thing, but like you I have eyes and ears in places you wouldn’t believe. But what I want to know is how you knew about that bomb. Let me guess, Ryan told you,” he said with a contemptuous emphasis on his name. “By the way, in case you didn’t know, you sent him a text message two hour ago cancelling this meeting. Just in case you were wondering where he was,” he revealed.

“Makes me wonder about the kind of relationship you both have, the things you both share,” he said stepping even closer towards her. “Speaking of which,” he said retrieving and waving a transparent plastic bag containing Bret’s phone. Ava skipped a breath.

“You know, Bret Mitchell was very useful to me until he started over-estimating his importance. He began making demands and tried to blackmail me. Said he recorded a deal between me and Alverez, but it’s not here.”

Ava grew even more nervous and each step the mayor made tempted her to run in the opposite direction.

“I have big plans for this city. Plans for which I have sacrificed a lot, including my own wife. But you already know that, and so does Ryan. But right now I’m more interested in where Bret Mitchell hid the recording. It’s not in this phone and the memory card is missing,” he said impatiently.

“I don’t know anything,” Ava responded.

“So who should I ask, Merissa?” he said with a diabolical smirk.

Ava felt a chill greater than what the night wind could produce. The thing she feared most now confronted her directly. No one was supposed to know about the daughter she and Bret shared, especially the mayor.

There remained only a few feet between them when the mayor continued, “I took a really good look at his home screen, and the resemblance is striking. But where could ‘daddy’ have hidden the memory card? Where would he hide it so no one would ever suspect?”

Ava shook her head in ignorance.

“I’m willing to bet that Mitchell hadn’t visited his daughter for a while until he brought her this teddy bear,” the mayor deduced looking back at the picture on the phone.

Ava capitalized on his distraction and quickly pulled her service pistol, lifting it towards him. Before she could find aim, the mayor swung his large arms sending her gun flying into the air. Another flash sent Ava flying backwards to the ground. As he walked towards her, she turned and crawled speedily towards her car with blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. Soon he was over her, grabbing her by the throat. His large hands squeezed and she gasped and coughed as she struggled under his weight.

“You think I care about cops, principals, and dead little girls?” he taunted, squeezing even harder. “Where’s Merissa?” he demanded.

As scared as she was in his death grip, the sound of her daughter’s name sent her into more desperate panic. She wiggled a leg free and swung her knee into his groin. The mayor wailed and released her then clutched his testicles.

Ava sprang to her feet and dashed towards her car. She panted breathlessly as she ran, still recovering from his asphyxiating grip. A few more yards were all she needed to make her escape. Suddenly, a gunshot echoed. Ava stumbled forward then stopped. Her breaths were heavy and her eyes rolled inside her head. She struggled, moving her leg forward for more step. A second gunshot roared, throwing her onto the bonnet of her car. She lifted her head towards the windshield and uttered strenuously, “Ryan, save Merissa,” then she collapsed to the ground.

Mayor Richards stood over her clutching the gun that had been knocked from Ava’s hand. He looked down at her twisted body and she looked back up at him. His heartless frown was the last thing she would ever see. After a mumbled attempt to call her daughter’s name, she gazed into the starry sky then took her last breath with eyes wide open.

Hours later, Ryan sat alone in the room of a brothel with a cell phone in one hand and a firearm in the other. This was the only kind of place he could think of where anonymity was a basic amenity. The noisy erotic romp from the room next door did little for his concentration so he turned the television up loud, loud enough to also mask the sound of the gunshot he planned to deliver to his head.

He looked at the message from Ava’s number and assumed that she had finally cut him off. He didn’t blame her either, especially in light of the sensational stories that played on the television screen. Thanks to the mayor, he was now officially a suspect in Bret’s murder and the press conference bombing.

A special item of breaking news caught his attention. The body of a female detective, Ava Reynolds, had been found with gunshot wounds. Ryan was devastated. His eyes wetted and he struggled to hold back the tears. It mattered little that he was named a suspect in Ava’s murder. What mattered was that Ava was gone and there was nothing he could do to bring her back. She was a rose among thorns and the only one who understood him a little. A severe loneliness engulfed him as he remembered Ava standing beside his desk at work, her laughing in conversation with Alice at the mayor’s ball, and even her caring look as she stared at him through the eyes of Ryan’s alter.

The scene changed as a panel debated the significance of the message and why she would appeal to a suspected killer and terrorist. As the speculations continued, Ryan struggled to come to terms with her death. Finally, he broke down.

“Police have uncovered a video from a dashboard camera that shows Detective Ava Reynolds fleeing her assailant,” the news anchor reported.

“Ryan…save Merissa,” Ava’s voice came through the television. The video paused. The poor lighting barely revealed her face, but he could see her fear and pain. Ryan ran his fingers across the television screen as if touching her face.

Something boiled within him and he jumped to his feet. He had no doubt who the assailant was. As much as he needed to end his own life, he ached for vengeance and needed to save Ava’s daughter and the city from the ruthless mayor.

“It’s all your fault, Ryan. You should have let me kill the mayor. Now Ava is dead. It’s all your fault,” Greg spoke as Ryan’s countenance changed and his deadly alter emerged, angry and determined. This time there was no negotiating. Now he had a job to complete and he ordered Ryan not to interfere. He had a life to take and one to save; an act of vengeance and one of salvation. He straightened his fake beard and hung a pair of reading glasses behind his ears. It was a convincing disguise. The gun he had planned to kill himself with had a new purpose. He stuck it into his waist and covered the handle with his shirt, then marched briskly out of the room.