Origin by Bruce Savage by Bruce Savage

ORIGIN

BRUCE SAVAGE

About Bruce Savage He is the author of thriller, science fiction and horror novels including the smash hit Casualties of War has been on track to being on the bestseller list in the US and Worldwide since its release. He writes full-time and loves hearing from his fans. "If you took the DNA from authors Stephen King, Tom Clancy, James Patterson, Arthur C. Clarke and H.G. Wells and spliced them together in a ultra-secret government lab controlled by a mad scientist from an alien world and then gave birth to a writer from that combination you would have the one of a kind writing style and unique stories of Bruce Savage. That is author Bruce Savage.â&#x20AC;? Bruce Savage â&#x20AC;&#x201C; ORIGIN

Books by Bruce Savage The Novels: GODS ASSASSIN NO MERCY FOR THE DEAD LEGEND OF THE DRAGON THE SKULL EUROPA'S CHILD RUSSIAN GAMES THE TABLET ORIGIN SHORT SCARY STORIES PSYCHO CASUALTIES OF WAR

For previews and information about the author: Visit www.brucesavage.com.

Table of Contents ABOUT BRUCE SAVAGE BOOKS BY BRUCE SAVAGE TABLE OF CONTENTS DISCLAIMER COPYRIGHT DEDICATION CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8 CHAPTER 9 CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11 CHAPTER 12 CHAPTER 13 CHAPTER 14 CHAPTER 15 CHAPTER 16 CHAPTER 17 CHAPTER 18 CHAPTER 19 CHAPTER 20 CHAPTER 21 CHAPTER 22 CHAPTER 23 CHAPTER 24 CHAPTER 25

1 7 11 15 21 27 31 35 39 45 51 55 61 71 75 81 85 89 91 95 99 103 109 113 117

Table of contents contnneed CHAPTER 26 CHAPTER 27 CHAPTER 28 CHAPTER 29 CHAPTER 30 CHAPTER 31 CHAPTER 32 CHAPTER 33 CHAPTER 34 CHAPTER 35 CHAPTER 36 CHAPTER 37 CHAPTER 38 CHAPTER 39 CHAPTER 40 CHAPTER 41 CHAPTER 42 CHAPTER 43 WAIT! FROM THE AUTHOR

121 125 139 149 153 157 159 161 165 169 173 177 183 187 193 197 201 205 209 211

Disclaimer ORIGIN By Bruce Savage Copyright © 2015 ORIGIN Paperback Edition This Paperback is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This Paperback may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite Paperback retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without the express permission in writing by the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. First Edition 1.0 Bruce Savage – ORIGIN

Bruce Savage – ORIGIN Visit: www.brucesavage.com or your favorite book seller to order additional copies. ORIGIN – BRUCE SAVAGE

Dedication This novel is dedicated all the fans of classic science fiction and things that go bump in the night.

ORIGIN

BRUCE SAVAGE

ORIGIN

Chapter 1 I knew that night that we are not alone. That was the night that my brother disappeared. And the same night the crop circle was found in my father’s field. Everyone thinks I’m crazy for thinking the way I do, but I know I’m not. I know that there is a connection. There has to be. Everyone believes that some drifter took my brother. But I don’t think so. I was there. I know what I saw. Things like that you just don’t forget. Things like that you just don’t make up. I know there are things in this world that cannot be explained. Things that just don’t make sense. Things that most people blame as an act of God. But my brother disappearing wasn’t an act of God. It wasn’t! And no drifter took him. They took him. The people from the crop circle. I saw it. I saw it with my own two eyes. What I have to say is the truth. What I have been through…is the truth. I suppose I could start telling my story by opening with a cliché or quote from Charles Dickens, “It was the best of 1

BRUCE SAVAGE times, it was the worst of times.” Which wouldn’t be too far off from the truth. My little brother Taylor (who earned the nickname ‘Tag’ because he always had to tag along everywhere I went. As is the duty and station of little brothers) and I grew up on a farm fifty miles outside of Kansas City. The usual could be said about farm life and growing up in the country. As most people suspect living fifty miles from the nearest city left very little to do other than the usual of raising hell from time to time and listening to the gossip and stories that the locals would tell when a visit to a neighbor was on the agenda. It had been a pretty dry summer and my father had reached the limit of what he could do for the crop. ‘It was in God’s hands now’, he would say hoping and praying for rain. Another week of dry weather and this year’s crop would be done for. Luckily, my father always prepared for the worst and expected the best about life. Even if the crop didn’t come through this year we still would be in pretty good shape for the winter and spring. Until it was time to plant and try again. Don’t take me wrong. We were not well to do, but we weren’t exactly poor either. Our farm had been in our family for quite a long time and had been passed down from generation to generation. When my grandfather had passed away a few summers ago he had left my father a nice little chunk of change in his will for a rainy day. It was not a whole lot of money. But enough to take the edge off of years when the crop wasn’t doing so well and to make sure that the farm stayed in the family and didn’t end up on the auction block of the bank like so many farms around here had ended up. I remember a day or so before my brother disappeared there was a man at the farm looking for work. A drifter is what my mother had called him. I tried to imagine what that 2

ORIGIN meant and settled on the conclusion of a person that had no home. After all, I was only ten at the time and had limited contact with the outside world other than the locals. My brother and I were both home schooled since I was old enough to start learning. My mother would teach us Math and English in the morning and then give us lunch, a break, and then wrap things up in the afternoon with History and reading from the Bible. We were a Christian family. Not heavily religious, but religious enough to not miss church on Sunday morning and end the day with reading from the Bible and making sure we said our prayers before we went to sleep. My father; I remember, felt sorry for the man and the condition he had appeared in at our house. I snuck a peek at him when he arrived and could see that he looked like he had been traveling quite a bit. He had on a tattered pair of jeans that was held up by an old leather belt and a dirty blue button up dress shirt with a rose embroidered on the pocket and a pair of sneakers that had definitely seen better days. My mother had shoed me away into another room and reminded me of her favorite quote, “Children should be seen and not heard.” She would say. I still don’t have a clue as to what that was supposed to mean. After all children make noise, that is their job isn’t it? Either way I did as I was told and went in the other room, but I could still hear bits and pieces of my father talking to the stranger in the doorway. I didn’t get the whole conversation, but I would have to assume that my father took pity on the man and offered him some work. I remember as the man left he kept on saying Thank you sir! Thank you sir! To my father as he found his way back to the road. My father closed the door and started talking to my mother after the man was some distance from the house. Sound had a tendency to travel quite a distance in farm country. 3

BRUCE SAVAGE “Are you sure we can afford to hire someone right now dear? With the crop the way it is?” My mother asked. “Well, no I’m not entirely sure we can afford it. But I had to do something for the poor man. Did you get a look at him? He must have been walking all day looking for work. Ever since the feed mill closed over in Carson a lot of people have been out of work and desperate. Living hand to mouth. We’re not exactly at that point yet. However, it would not hurt to help someone out. I think he desperately needed a break. After all it’s only for a couple of days. To help me get the equipment cleaned up and the fences over on the north end fixed.” “Well if you need the help then I guess it’s alright. I don’t see any harm in helping a stranger from time to time. Especially times like these.” My mother replied. “He said he’s staying at the Carson Motel. He’ll be back first thing in the morning ready for work. We will see how it goes tomorrow. If he even shows up. It’s quite a distance to walk from the Carson Motel. I know it’s at least ten miles.” My father said sitting down at the table. It was close to suppertime and my mother made pot roast, my father’s favorite meal. “Richard Isaiah Johnson don’t even think of sitting at the table with those dirty clothes and hands. You know better.” My mother barked at my father. “How do you expect me to teach Taylor and Mathew any manners when you go and do things like this?” My mother said scolding my father. He quickly got up from his chair, grumbled a few words under his breath, and headed off to the bathroom to wash up. He knew better than to challenge my mother on things like this. After all, in her kitchen she was God and the law. And that’s the way that was.

ORIGIN

Chapter 2 The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my father’s voice. I couldn’t hear him clearly, but I knew that he must have been talking to that drifter guy that had come the day before. I quietly got out of bed and climbed down making sure not to wake up Tag. He slept in the bunk below me. I preferred the top bunk seeing I was the older. And simply because it was my mother’s decision to have me sleep up on top instead. She didn’t want Tag to fall out of bed from such a high place, which was something he did often, at least once a week. Once I knew that Tag was still asleep I crept my way to the window to take a look at what my father and the drifter was doing. I could see my father and the man loading the back of my father’s truck with fencing wire. I suppose they would be working on the north fence today. For some reason or another, the north fence kept getting torn down by Harry Thompson’s cattle. The north fence was close to Johnson 5

BRUCE SAVAGE creek where the cattle would wonder down to get a drink. The creek didn’t have much water in it these days because of the dry weather we’ve been having, but still the cattle kept going down there out of habit and hopes for a drink, I guess. Once my father and the man were finished loading the truck they got in and headed off to the North end. I wouldn’t see my father again until it was lunch time, when he would come home for a break and spend a little time playing with me and Tag. The strange thing about it would be that when he came home, he came home alone and without the stranger. And he acted a little odd when my mother asked him why he didn’t invite the drifter for lunch. My father said that he insisted on staying out at the north end and continue working on the fence. My mother dismissed it with a look and then went back to making lunch for us. When lunch was over my father went back to work instead of stopping and spending time with me and Tag. Which seemed odd indeed. He always took time to play pass with me and Tag. I guess he was grooming us to be the next big thing in baseball when we were older. After my father left, Tag and I went to play out back of the barn. And that’s where I saw the stranger again. Well- Tag saw him first. We were playing catch when I threw a high one to Tag. He always had a problem catching the high tosses. Anyway, Tag missed it and the ball ended up rolling out of sight and into some tall grass. Tag went after it and took a long time before he returned with the ball and a story that was unbelievable. “What took you so long Tag?” I asked him. “I was talking to the man made of light. I shook his hand.” He said. “What are you talking about Tag?” I said a little confused, but I was used to Tag’s stories. He had a pretty good imagination for a seven-year-old. 6

ORIGIN “Tag there isn’t any man made out of light. You’re making that up.” “No I’m not! He’s right over there in the tall grass where the ball was. He said to not be afraid and he made the baseball float in the air! He left a mark on my hand from when he shook it. See!” Tag said planting himself firmly where he stood and showing me his hand. There was a mark- two circles intertwined - and then he pointed towards the place where the ball had rolled. “Well I’m going to look. If you’re lying Tag I’m telling mom. You know how she doesn’t like it when you tell your stories. She told you it would get you in trouble someday.” “Go look, you’ll see. He’s made out of light. Go look!” “I will! I will!” I said and headed off to the tall grass. After walking into the tall grass for a few feet I looked around and could see that this was just one of Tag’s stories. The end result of a seven year olds imagination running wild again. And then I saw him. Not the man made of light, but the drifter. He was about two hundred feet away in the tall grass and walking towards the north end. And then somehow he just disappeared out of sight. Like he had vanished into thin air. I stood there for a moment in hopes that I might see him again, but the man was gone. I quickly ran back to Tag to confront him. “That was the drifter Tag! Not a man made out of light. You need glasses or something.” I said to him. “He was made out of light. I saw him with my own to eyes. He shined just like the Sun.” Tag said. “I’m telling Mom your making up stories again Tag. She’s going to punish you this time. You know how she doesn’t like lying.” I said and started walking towards the house. “Come on Tag. It’s time for our history lessons. And you know how mom doesn’t like waiting for us to get back 7

BRUCE SAVAGE to our learning.” I said. Tag stubbornly started walking back to the house with me, but kept on grumbling that he wasn’t lying. I just ignored him. After all he was my little brother. And it was my job as the big brother to ignore the little brother wasn’t it?

ORIGIN

Chapter 3 That evening my dad came home for supper. The work day was over with and when dad got home he usually took a little time to relax before getting cleaned up for supper and then he would spend some time with me and Tag before putting us to bed. But something didn’t seem right about dad when he got home. He seemed agitated or upset about something. Something must have happened at the north end that he didn’t like. “What’s wrong honey? You seem upset about something. Is everything alright?” My mother asked. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine. I’m going to go wash up. I don’t want any supper tonight. I’m not hungry. I think I’ll just go straight to bed.” My father said abruptly to my mother. “Are you sure honey? Is everything alright? Did something happen that you want to talk about?” My mother questioned. His behavior was without a doubt strange and out of the ordinary routine for my father. “I SAID EVERYTHING IS FINE! I’M GOING TO BED!” My father hollered at my mother and stomped off upstairs to the bedroom. I could hear the bedroom door slam as my father went in. My mother stood there for a moment not knowing what to make of my father’s behavior and then motioned me and Tag to go to the kitchen and sit at the 9

BRUCE SAVAGE table. We quietly did as we were asked and sat in silence for most of the dinner until Tag broke the silence with a question. “Is dad o.k. mommy?” Tag asked in a sincere child voice. “Daddy’s fine Taylor. He’s just a little tired from work. The weather isn’t helping him any with the crop. Now finish your supper and you and Mathew go get ready for bed.” My mother said in a make believe tone of voice. She was trying to hide her level of concern for my father and what might have happened during the day that would affect him this way. His behavior was completely unlike him. Tag and I finished our supper and hurried up to the bathroom and got ready for bed. After pushing and shoving over space in the sink to brush our teeth we hopped into our pajamas and climbed into our beds and waited for mom to come and read from the bible to us. After a few moments she showed up and sat down in the chair next to our bunk beds and took the bible off of the night table and opened it up. “Where were we? Let’s see.” She said quietly as she flipped through the pages. “Oh yes. Here we are. The story of John the Baptist.” My mother said as she positioned herself in the chair and started to read. For some reason I didn’t feel like listening to my mother reading from the bible that night. My mind was on other matters. Like why was the drifter in the tall grass behind the house and not at the north end where my father said he was? There was no way he could walk all the way from the north end and be by the barn with enough time for my father not to notice. Why was my father so upset when he got home? Was Tag telling the truth about seeing a man made out of light? All these things distracted my attention from my mother’s reading until finally I had realized I was more tired 10

ORIGIN than I thought and drifted off to sleep. The next time that I would awake tragedy would strike in my family and nothing would be the same ever again.

BRUCE SAVAGE

ORIGIN

Chapter 4 It was 2 o’clock in the morning or at least I thought it was when I woke up. That’s the time that was on the Mickey Mouse alarm clock when everything was over. I awoke not to the sound of the alarm clock going off. It was set for 6 o’clock like it had always been. That was the time Tag and me would always wake up and get ready for breakfast. Most of the time it would take us until at least 6:45 a.m. before we dragged ourselves out of bed. But this morning I had awoke at 2 a.m. It was the sound that woke me up. A loud hypnotic buzzing sound. Like the sound of a television station going off the air. That long uninterrupted buzzing noise that made you wake up and shut the TV off. I opened my eyes and could see that the room was filled with light as if someone had put the lights from a baseball stadium in our room and turned them on full blast. My arms and legs were frozen in place as I lay in my bed. I was unable to move or speak. I squinted my eyes in hopes of seeing something in the light that had filled our room. And then I did. It was something moving in the direction of the 13

BRUCE SAVAGE window. It was small. I thought for a moment that it might be Tag going to the window to see what was going on. Then I realized it was him. And then the light went away and I squinted again trying to regain my focus and could see Tag outside the window. Floating in the air as if he was Peter Pan or something. I still couldn’t move a muscle or speak. I just lay there staring at my little brother hovering outside the window. And then he was gone. As if by magic. Completely gone. He disappeared like some magical trick that a magician would do right before your eyes. I started to panic. Feeling was starting to come back into my arms and legs. And I could feel a swelling in my throat. I opened up my mouth and a scream came out. “MOM! DAD! MOM! DAD! HELP! MOM! DAD! HELP!” I screamed over and over again until I could hear my mother and father’s footsteps running down the hallway and crashing through the door of my bedroom. “What is it Mathew? What are you screaming for?” My mother hollered half-asleep and confused. “They took Taylor! He’s gone! Taylor’s gone!” I screamed at my mother and pointing to the window. My mother looked at the bottom bunk and could see that Taylor was no longer in it sleeping. She became frantic. “WHO TOOK TAYLOR MATHEW? RICHARD CALL THE POLICE. SOMETHING’S HAPPENED TO TAYLOR!” My mother screamed frantically at my father who was standing behind her. The odd thing about it was that he turned and calmly went down stairs to the phone and called the police. And then went outside and searched around the property for Taylor. It was odd how calm my father was. His son had just been abducted and here he was calm and almost emotionless about the whole thing. As if this thing happened all the time. Slowly I started to think that my

ORIGIN father knew more than he let on. And this frightened me. Jesus what happened out on the North end? About an hour later, the Police arrived at our house and questioned me and my mother and father. They searched everywhere around the house in hopes of finding Tag sleepwalking perhaps. Which was a possibility. But not what happened. I saw what happened. I saw my brother floating in the air. I saw the light. I heard the sound. And nobody believed me. My mother was very angry with me for the story I told the police. She sent me to my room where I sat and waited as the sun started to come up on the horizon. Nobody believed me. When I know what I saw. I know what happened. Just after dawn my mother called me down to the kitchen to try and eat some breakfast, but I wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t hungry. Nobody was that morning. But she needed to keep busy or she would end up crying and freaking out. Cooking something kept her mind off of what happened. My father paced nervously back and forth in the living room waiting for the police to come back. They asked him if there were any strangers or unusual people that had come to the house recently. And my father gave him the description of the drifter that had come to the house. And that he was staying at the Carson motel. The police went to the Carson motel and spoke with the owner, Jack Carson. Mr. Carson had no idea of any person staying there that fit that description. He showed the police the guest book and there was no one by the name of Jeremy Holmes staying at the Carson motel. Ever! That was the name the drifter gave my father. The only people there were a couple that was passing through on their way to Kansas City waiting for repairs on their car that had broken down on the highway. But no drifter. No Jeremy Holmes.

BRUCE SAVAGE The police came back with some equipment and took finger prints from my fatherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s truck. In hopes of matching it up with someone in their database of criminals. But in the end there would never be a match. Jeremy Holmes didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t exist.

ORIGIN And then yet another strange visitor came to the house. But this was someone that we knew. And knew well. It was Harry Thompson our next-door neighbor. Well next door to us in the country was about five miles away. But never the less he was our neighbor. He came to the door and when my father opened it he could see that Mr. Thompson was pretty shakin up to find out what happened to Tag. But he was even more shook up about what he had to tell my father. Sometime during the night someone killed 10 of his cattle. Out by the north end. The strange thing about it was that their stomach was missing and their upper lips. It was like someone took a sharp instrument and did some precision surgery on the cattle. Nothing else had been done to them only that. What added even more strangeness to his story was the impression left in the grass near the cattle on our side of the property. The impression spread over at least three hundred yards and formed into some strange design. He didn’t know what to make of it. But he was sure to tell the police about it. My father had no clue as to what to make of his story or what if any it had to do with his son missing. But then again I could see that my father was hiding something. This wasn’t the same man that I’ve known since I was born. There was something different about him. But what? For several days afterward, there were police and people from all over the area searching our property and the surrounding area for Tag. There were also several people that spent a great amount of time at the north end taking pictures of the image that was left in the field and studying it and the remains of the cattle that was killed. At the time I didn’t know what the big deal was. But I would find out later just how important what they were doing was. Not just important to me, but to finding Tag alive again. It was not too long in the morning that the media got hold of the story of my brother being abducted and started 17

BRUCE SAVAGE to swarm our property. My mother and father gave a short interview to a television reporter and a picture of my brother. And for the next two weeks it was the top story on channel 5 news. KNAS 5 bringing Kansas the World! Was the jingle that would chime every time the news would come on. A picture of my brother would flash on the screen with a composite of the drifter and contact information for anyone with information. And then there was nothing. No news story. No updates. My brotherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s disappearance was replaced with the latest news of what was happening in the world. It was as if no one cared anymore. Soon months would pass by and then years. My mother would keep vigil over any information no matter how small it was that might lead to finding Tag. My father on the other hand shut the whole matter out. The mentioning of Tagâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s name would cause him to get up and leave the room. He shut out my mother and I and the rest of the world and stuck to working the farm. Why?

ORIGIN

Chapter 5 Fifteen years later… Washington D.C. I was sitting in my car staring at a white Porsche parked one hundred feet from me on the other side of the street. I was on surveillance or working a lead you could say. Boring, as surveillance was the case I was working on involved a network of underworld characters that were involved in a number of kidnappings that had occurred in the D.C. area. Kidnappings were my specialty at the Bureau and I was hot on the trail so to speak of wrapping up this case. “Come on guy let’s wrap this one up all ready. Let’s see some movement. Take me to your leader.” I said to myself as I sat in my car tapping the steering wheel. I had been there 19

BRUCE SAVAGE for at least four hours now and no one had moved or come out of the building. And I was getting hungry. I knew the suspect Vincent Downs was in the building visiting his girlfriend. Sooner or later he had to come out. It was three in the afternoon for Christ sakes. How long did a quickie take? Sooner said than done the door of the apartment building I had been watching opened up and Vincent appeared with a beautiful brunet wearing a red silk housecoat. He turned to kiss her one last time sticking his tongue down her throat as if he was searching for something in her purse and then slapped her on the backside and headed off for the Porsche and got in. He looked back only for a moment to blow her a kiss and wave his hand in the air gesturing a goodbye for now. “Finally! Christ you’d think he was going off to war or something.” I said as I waited a moment for him to start up the Porsche and enter into traffic. I didn’t want Vincent to have so much as a clue that I was following him. Not this guy. This case is coming to a close. “Come on ‘Vinnie’ take me to your buddies. Show me who you’re working for.” I said as I started up the sedan and started following the Porsche. I made sure to stay at least five-car lengths behind this guy. I didn’t want to spook him or tip him off that I was there. The Porsche cruised along Baltimore Avenue and made a right turn onto Piedmont and then another right turn onto Seventh Street and the warehouse district. That’s where their latest victim must be being held and that’s where his buddies must be. “Getting closer…” I whispered as I watched the Porsche slow down in front of a warehouse that appeared abandoned. I watched as Vincent got out of the car, went to a keypad, and punched some numbers on the side of the building near the bay doors. Vincent then went back to his 20

ORIGIN car and got in. Moments later the big bay doors of warehouse thirty-four opened up and Vincent drove in. “I have you now dirt bag!” I said to myself as I picked up my walkie-talkie and called for backup. This was the big score. The grand finale in a case that had taken months to crack. Several months before a various number of people had disappeared in the D.C. area. Ranging from D.C. crème’ de la crème to common everyday people. The case had stumped the Bureau for some time as to why such a variety of people were being kidnapped. From a millionaire Dot.com owner Jason Robinson to a waitress Hilary Todd at the Hilton. None of the victims had been found as of yet. None of them had anything in common or any contact with each other in anyway leading up to their disappearance. And there was no request for ransom of any kind. But there was one connection in each one of the kidnappings. Vincent Downs. A known ex-flunky of the D.C. mob. His expertise was kidnapping. I connected Downs with the kidnappings and believed this might have something to do with some type of international slavery trade. Vincent was the common denominator in all of the cases. Eyewitness had described seeing him in the area the day before the kidnapping had occurred. It was only a matter of patients and doing the math that finally led me to Vincent and the warehouse and what I hoped to be the end of the case. A voice crackled over my walkie-talkie. It was my Section Chief. “Good the cavalry is on its way.” I grinned and thought to myself as I picked up the walkie-talkie. “Agent Gordon…You are here by ordered to stand down.” The Chiefs’ voice echoed in my ear. “What? Could you repeat that please?” I replied in disbelief.

BRUCE SAVAGE “I said, Agent Gordon. You are here by ordered to stand down. Return to the Bureau. Is that clear enough for you Mark?” Fred repeated. “Are you freaking kidding me Chief? I have them. They are right here for Christ sakes. Are you out of your mind or something?” “I’m not going to repeat myself again Agent Gordon. Return to the Bureau at once. You’re off the case.” What in the hell could possess him to take me off the case at this point? We had them. They were right here for Christ sakes. I started my car and started to drive off. Orders are orders. I was told to stand down and that exactly what I needed to do. The warehouse slowly crept out of view in my mirror and then, the unbelievable happened. The warehouse exploded! I mean exploded as if someone just dropped a five-hundred-pound bomb on it. The explosion was powerful enough to take out the back window of my car and force me to slam into a telephone pole. My car was totaled. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” I screamed as I pulled myself from my car and was showered with broken glass and debris from the warehouse. I was shaking from the concussion from the blast. The building had been completely destroyed. Whoever was in there was dead. Blown to smithereens. Including my prime suspect, Vincent Downs. Whatever happened needed explaining. Why was I taken off the case? Who blew up the warehouse and why? Just what in the hell was going on!