Cycle of Vengeance

Persistent Hope

Persistent Hope:

The first thing Mckayla saw when her captors ripped the black bag off her head was a plain, grey concrete wall. A bright light shone on her from above but she saw no faces. She tried turning around but was forced to face forward again by a vicious slap to the cheek.

"Eyes forward." The voice was harsh and distorted beyond sounding human. "Do you know why you're here?" Mckayla whimpered in confusion and tried turning around. She was slapped again. "Answer the question."

"No."

"You've been snooping where you shouldn't be. Rest assured we're not going to kill or maim you. We just wanted to talk."

"About?" Mckayla asked.

"The answers you're looking for." A pile of paper reports were thrown onto Mckayla's lap and black hands belonging to an unseen man held them up to her face one at a time. "His name is Oliver Smith. He's the CFO of Denron Energy. He has everything you've been looking for. Connections, a dark history with the War in Venezuela, and a vested interest in keeping good publicity. He's being considered for the position of CEO by a large Board of Directors governed by fickle shareholders."

"Okay. What should I do with this?"

"Tell your fellow investigator what we've told you of course. We know you're working with Detective Joseph Rodriguez. We wouldn't want to keep him out of the loop would we?"

"How do I know I can trust you?" Mckayla glared at the concrete wall as if she were staring the distorted man speaking down face to face.

"You don't. But I highly recommend that you take our suggestion."

"Or what?" Her voice was now defiant, in spite of how violently she was shivering in fear.

"You have a son don't you? You do love him I presume." Mckayla's blood froze and she could feel her sweat turn into beads of ice on her skin.

"No..." she whimpered.

"No? I don't take you to be an abusive or neglectful mother."

"NO! Leave him out of this!" Her fists clenched and her arms strained against the gauntlet fastening her to her metal chair.

"Well, that's up to you Miss Baker." The unseen hands of the man standing behind her pinned her against the chair by her neck and held a photo of Ethan in front of her. "Will you tell your beloved friend what we told you?" The gloved hand holding the photo crumpled it right around where the little boy's face was.

"Please..."

"Will you?!" Another hand came and ripped the photo in half. Before the split halves fell to the ground, Mckayla felt another slap on her cheek.

"Yes..."

"Good." A black bag came back over her face and she could feel sedatives seep into her lungs.

***

"Who's this?" Joe stood in front of Mark's desk, where a new face was waiting for him. The young African American man in Mark's chair was stiff, straight postured, and clearly over-eager to make a good impression. His appearance likewise reflected his zealotry for impressions: his form fitting suit looked freshly ironed and dry cleaned, his facial hair was cleanly shaven off, and his short, curly hair was gelled down to rest symmetrically on his head.

"This is Detective Will Jacobs. Newly promoted." Captain Christian Wall walked up to Joe and Will while explaining. "He'll be filling in for Mark while he's recovering."

"Alright," Joe said nonplussed. He took a seat across from Will and slouched back in his chair. "Come on kid, loosen up. We're not that stiff and strict." Christian blinked several times in confusion while Joe calmly went back to work at his computer.