The Wrong Type of Redemption

45 Three Years, Eleven months, eight days…

ORIGINAL CONTENT OF D.C. BLU. DO NOT COPY AND/OR REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS CRUEL. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

45: Three Years, Eleven months, eight days…


Fidget spinner in one hand while the other hand typed, Jerry’s eyes roamed over the screen doing the assignment that his boss gave him so that he could take his mind of his father’s current mission. Somewhere in Southeast Asia, his aunt was hiding. They were so close that all of them were feeling the pressure.

That day, his father just got back from talking to a Malaysian banker about some unusual monetary transactions. While on the surface the man seemed to be helpful, the moment his father turned his back and walked away, Jerry caught on camera the change in the man’s face — a narrowed eyed glare.

Philip hated having every one of his actions recorded by Jerry, because he didn’t want Jerry to see him kill or torture people. However, in situations like with the banker, it helped to see who his allies were and who planned to stab him in the back, literally.

As Jerry continued releasing his restless energy into both the spinner and the work Michel gave, his eyes kept traveling to the small window in the lower corner of one of his screens. In that window, Jerry got a good view of Philip’s hotel room. The man had setup a covet camera on the table in the room. The camera was pointed as the room’s front door. He did this every time he stayed in a new location so that Jerry could keep an eye on who came and went. Just in case someone other than housekeeping didn’t infiltrate his sleeping quarters and to make sure housekeeping was actually keeping house. Jerry had seen several attempts on his father’s life since they began. It was a good thing Philip was a lethal weapon just with his hands from the things that Jerry had seen over the years.

“Glitch?” Philip’s gruff voice came into his hearing aid. His father had a direct line into Jerry’s ear, connected via military satellite.

“How was your shower, big daddy?” Jerry replied.

Philip’s laugh made him smile. Soon Philip’s long muscular body stood in front of the camera, naked.

Jerry groaned. “I hate when you do that.” Because now he was getting horny.

“And I hate that I can’t see you.” But they made sure that Jerry’s computers had no cameras on it so that no image of Jerry was ever leaked. Even if it was on purposed, Philip made Jerry promise never to send out any pictures of himself to anyone from his location so that no one learned the identity of the hacker helping Philip.

“If Val’s information is as reliable as before, you could be coming home soon to see me.” They had gotten closer and closer to finding his aunt. And the closer they got, the fewer times Philip came to see him. The last time he touched his father was six months ago. Before that, it was two to three months between each visit and his father only stayed no longer than a day. With the assassination attempts on his life increasing, Philip worried that he’d lead one of the assassins back to Jerry. So, he stayed away.

Even though Jerry constantly took fighting classes, shooting, and whatever else his boss allowed him to take, Philip still didn’t want him in danger so continued to keep a distance.

“Val isn’t the only one who got information about this area,” Philip said. “You and Tyler’s information checks out. It seems like several of the governments here had dealings with several of Aline’s aliases. With things heating up, I warned Dorian to take Mitch to visit Ivan.”

“Yeah, I keep getting selfies from Uncle’s Ivan’s private yacht…” Jerry groaned. “I hate my cousin.”

His father chuckled putting on a shirt. “When I get back, you and I will be spending plenty of time on that yacht. Just you, me, and the staff.”

“Bullshit. Uncle Ivan won’t leave us in peace and you know it.”

His father groaned. “Maybe…I can convince him.” Those words sounded a lot like a threat.

Jerry watched intently as his father finished dressing. “You going somewhere today? Those are your good jeans.”

“Its lunchtime here so I’m going to go eat and pretend to be a tourist…” His father’s words faded as he quickly moved behind the door of the hotel room in a fighting ready stance.

Jerry held his breath. It wasn’t the first time his father had uninvited visitors. Wishing he could do more than watch, Jerry sat on the edge of his seat.

The door to the room silently cracked open. Slowly, it opened wider.

Jerry saw a gun first.

Philip moved, taking the gun, chopping down on the wrist holding it. Just as he turned the gun around to aim at the intruder, Jerry’s network went out along with the power in the building.

“What the…” This couldn’t be just a coincidence. Just as Philip was being attacked? He picked up his phone and called building security but his phone had no signal… Jammed! He went to the phone on the wall and tried to get in touch with building security.

The line was dead. Fucking…shit.

Jerry went for the shotgun by his desk and checked the ammo. Then he grabbed more ammo. Heart hammering, he walked into the bathroom and got into the bath tub like his father taught him. The tub’s solid surface could deflect some of the bullet from hitting him. He’d never been in a fire fight, but there was a first time for everything.

Cell phone down. Security line down. Network down. Yep…he was in deep shit.

In the dark of his apartment, laying in the tub, Jerry listened. He took deep calming breaths as he waited. Five minutes went by. Ten…

He steadied his nerves even as his mind went through scenario after scenario his boss Michel drilled him on.

The sound of the front door opening grabbed his attention.

“Building security! Mr. Mather’s are you okay?”

That’s not the password, asshole. Jerry didn’t answer.

“Mr. Mather’s are you in here?”

Nope. Jerry pumped the shotgun. Still not right, try again. The beauty of a shotgun? He didn’t have to do much aiming. Just point and shot, the spray did the rest.

Jerry saw a glimmer of light flash into the bathroom. They were using flashlights. Maybe night gear.

“Do a thorough check. Intel said he’d be here.”

More than one person.

Jerry closed his eyes and held his breath.

Light flashed into the bathroom. “In here!”

Panicked, Jerry went on autopilot. The barrel of the gun pointed at the doorway and he pulled the trigger. Bang! Pump. Pull. Bang! Empty. Load. Pump. Pull. Bang! Pump. Pull. Bang! Empty…

The recoil continued to bite into Jerry’s shoulder as he continued with each body that appeared in the door.

He was down to two shots when no more bodies entered. His ears rang at him angrily. His head buzzed. Shallow breathes made him lightheaded.

The mess on the floor in front of the bathroom and splattered on the walls made him queasy, so he lay back and stared up at the dark ceiling.

Because of the continuous sounds of gun fire so close to his ears, his hearing aid was useless. He never heard when his mobile rang. Laying in the bathtub he never saw the network come back on.

When the lights finally cut on, Jerry still lay panting in the tub, waiting.

Movement from the corner of his eyes, had Jerry pointing his last two shots at his boss. The man quickly took the barrel in hand, before holding out his other to help Jerry up.

Two hours later, Jerry was sitting in one of Walthour’s buildings as a security team swarmed around him. His sign language interpreter sat beside him as they continued to look for signs of Philip and his team.

They had been ambushed, all of them — Jerry, Philip, and the team. While Jerry survived…no one knew where Philip was.

“Right now we’re still looking into what’s happening but I can tell you he’s still alive,” Michel said as the interpreter signed.

Jerry nodded, “The timing.”

“What about it?”

After the interpreter’s hands stopped Jerry replied. “Its not a coincidence we were both attacked at the same time. I don’t think they were looking to kill him, just distract him.”

“Explain.”

“Those assholes who broke in my apartment didn’t want me dead,” Jerry said looked up at Michel as he clutched the bottle of soda in his hands. Jerry’s nerves were wired so tight he hadn’t even opened it when they first handed him the drink. “They could’ve used a bomb if they wanted certain death… They’ve tried to plant bombs in Philip’s car and hotels before so it wouldn’t be a new tactic. So, I don’t think they know I help Philip or I would be dead.” Especially since Jerry had more information than most governments.

“You think… Okay, I see where you’re going with this. The father-son angle. Kidnap you and use you to bait Philip. Maybe threaten him to back off, make demands, or…”

“Lure him away from his location. We’re close to finding her. Too close. They could’ve just killed my father using a bomb, but they know you, Ivan, or one of my dad’s allies will pick up the search where he left off…too risky. Aunt Aline needs a distraction to give her time to relocate, regroup, and start again.” Jerry closed his eyes remembering the hope in Philip’s voice as they had talked about him coming home if they succeeded.

Michel’s dark eyes watched Jerry carefully. He ran a hand over his head. “Then…it’s a good bet that Philip has gone dark.”

Jerry closed his eyes wishing he didn’t know what that meant. His father was in a total communications blackout; therefore, Jerry wouldn’t hear from him again until the man knew it was safe.

“They’re hunting him just like he’s hunting them. And he probably won’t come up for air until she’s dead…”

Or he was dead. Jerry finished in his head knowing that was the only other option. He stood up and walked away not wanting to see anything more the interpreter was going to sign. He faced a wall and leaned his forehead against the surface, wishing, hoping, praying…

Michel patted Jerry on the shoulder comfortingly. Then shoved something in his pants pocket before leaving. Minutes later, Jerry took the folded piece of paper from his pocket and read: Don’t lose hope.

After they set Jerry up in a remote and secure computer lab with an adjoining bedroom, Jerry focused on trying to locate Aline so that his world didn’t seem like it was falling apart again.

After several days of no news, he used GPS and satellite images to find all of Philip’s team members. What he found were bodies. All of Philip’s team was dead. Still no Philip. Using archived images, Jerry checked to see if there was any record of what happened. Only one image showed a man sneaking up on Philip’s sniper S2 outside of a building, then snapping his neck. Jerry frowned as he zoomed into the image.

Was that… Dad? Jerry sat stunned for a moment as he though it over. All the team members were found dead in the same vicinity… Did his father kill the others, too?

Jerry quickly deleted all the information and images he found. If his father killed his own team there was reason. His father wasn’t a senseless killer. He was far too methodical.

Mind racing, Jerry called the one person he knew who could help his father.

“Hello?” Val’s alluring accent answered the phone. Using his computer, Jerry hacked into the building that the woman was now working at. After completely healing and having her baby, Val had set up an image consulting firm in London. What few people knew was that in her spare time, she was an assassin.

“Philip’s in trouble,” Jerry said not giving the woman a chance to hang up. He hacked into the laptop she was currently working on and sent her all the data he had. “You gave him information that sent him to Southeast Asia, now he’s in the middle of a minefield. How do I get him out?”

The woman grew quiet, then she laughed. “You’ve seized my whole network…who are you?” She sounded irritated and yet curious.

“How. Do. I. Get. Him. Out?”

“You don’t. He’ll get himself out. If Aline is truly there, he’ll find her and eliminate her.”

“Then how do I find her first?”

Val sighed. “Listen, I only gave him what I knew. I don’t have more.”

Jerry grew quiet as he let his mind take over and shut out the emotions threatening to make him crazy. “Then answer me this: if you were hiding from someone, where would you hid?”

She paused then answered, “In plain sight.”

“What if the person hunting you expects that and they think just like you do?”

“Then…I would hide where I would never want to hide. I would hide in the last place on earth I want to be caught dead.”

“And if you were a pampered rich billionaire bitch where is your nightmare place?”

“The filthiest, most inhuman prison in the world.”

Jerry did a quick search. Worst prison. Southeast Asia. And the results? “Bang Kwang Central Prison, Thailand.”

Val was quiet before she said, “That screams desperation!”

“Then it’s perfect. Now, how can I convince you to use your expertise and help him without blackmailing you about everything I know about you, the baby, Domenic, or the Code?”

The curse on the other end of the phone told Jerry that she knew she had no choice. Neither did any of the other organizations his father had worked with over the years that Jerry began blackmailing in order for them to go to Thailand and hunt his aunt down. Of course the ones who helped willingly, already wanted Aunt Aline dead, so he provided them all with her suspected location, hoping he wasn’t wrong.

ORIGINAL CONTENT OF D.C. BLU. DO NOT COPY AND/OR REDISTRIBUTE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR’S PERMISSION. PLAGIARISM IS CRUEL. PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

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