Chapter 11

Ace

My alibi established, I waited until I saw Jaelyn pop a pain pill to leave the honkytonk. I knew with everything she’d been through today, the pill would knock her out. That was part of my plan. I was hoping she’d stay asleep until I returned. I put her in my old room at the main house and covered her with a blanket. Quickly writing a note, I put it on the other pillow in case she had a nightmare and woke before I got back.

I stripped and put on the tactical suit again, only no cowboy boots. This time, I pulled my combat boots out of the closet. Then I walked down to the Spider Web, knocked softly, and entered. The bag I’d packed earlier was there, and I took the boot knife and stuck it in the top of the combat boots. The throwing knives in their sheath, I strapped it to my left wrist, making sure that they were secure.

Then the flash grenades and smokers went into the grenade clips on the suit. I put the small pack that contained a glide suit and small black parachute on my back. I slipped the preloaded hypodermic into one of the hidden pockets. A lock pick set went into another pocket in case the balcony I was going to enter the hotel suite from was locked.

While I did all this, Spidey informed me of all the info he’d gathered. The congressman was feeling confident, apparently, because he’d brought no security. He was in the best suite at the best hotel in Missoula. This was almost too easy. I wondered if it was a trap.

Sam, Wildcat, and I looked at the blueprints. We fell into our old routine like no time had passed and we were planning a Delta Force mission, which we kinda were. For the duration of this mission, Spidey isolated the four of us from the other comms and when I got to the hotel, I would inform him, and he would leave mine open to both send and receive so I didn’t have to say “Comm One” to broadcast. He also set up a link to the server that would record everything the comm picked up.

Once the plan was formed, we left to fire up the helo. Sam had covered the tail number so it couldn’t be traced to him and he would cut the lights once we were over the city. The plan was simple: we’d fly fast and low, avoid radar and once there, rise just enough to be over the tops of the buildings.

Sam would fly us over the hotel and hover briefly. I’d use the rappelling gear Sam had in the helo to drop to the roof of the hotel. Sam would fly outside the city and find a safe place to land.

Wildcat had loaded his bike on the helo since just the three of us were going, and he’d come to the place I pointed out on the city map and wait for me so I could get to the helo. He’d also be close enough to come rescue me if it was a trap.

Once on the roof, I’d anchor the rappelling line to the roof and drop onto the congressman’s balcony. Once on the balcony, I’d contact Spidey, and he’d turn my comm into a recording device. Then we were off.

Surprisingly, everything went to plan. I dropped to the balcony, contacted Spidey, reached up to my neck and keyed on the voice changer strapped to it. Picked the lock in a minute flat. I wasn’t happy with that. My lock picking skills were rusty.

Spidey disabled the room phone and the electronic door lock, jammed the only cell phone in the room, and cut the power.

I pulled the cowl out of a pocket and slipped it on, covering my face, and then went to find the congressman. He was in bed asleep. Perfect. I reached into the pocket and pulled out the hypodermic and injected it into his neck.

Putting my hand over his mouth, I used the other to hit him in the chest. He grunted and his eyes popped open. I watched them widen in fear. The chemical truth serum I’d already injected him with would start working in five minutes. “Wakey, Wakey, I came to have a little chat with you, Paul.”

I pulled the tactical knife out of my boot and showed it to him. “Now naturally, you’re going to want to scream when I remove my hand from your mouth.”

I laid its tip against the center of his throat. “I would highly suggest that you don’t do that. If you attempt to, I will have no choice but to cut out your vocal cords. Not only is that painful and messy, but totally unnecessary. I’m not here to kill you, but I will if you force me to. Nod your head once if you understand and will comply with speaking in a normal tone of voice for our conversation.”

He glanced at the phone on the nightstand before he nodded. I removed my hand from his mouth, and he lunged for the phone. I let him and he tried to punch zero for the front desk. “That doesn’t work. Neither does your cell phone.”

He dropped the phone and headed for the door. “That won’t open either. You could go out on the balcony and yell for help, but if you did, I’d just shove you over the edge. Again, I don’t want to kill you. Just tell you a story and have a little chat.”

He glared at me. “Who are you?”

I punched him in the gut, and he doubled up until my gloved fist caught his chin, straightening him upright. “Who am I, Paul? Is that what you asked.”

I back handed him with my fist across his right jaw, then his left several times. Not hard enough to break anything but making sure he’d be sporting a few of his own bruises. “I’m Vengeance, Paul.”

A few quick punches to his chest. “I’m the night.”

I grabbed him by the throat and slightly pressured it as I pulled his face close to mine. “I’m dressed in black and wearing a cowl. Who do you think I am? I’m Batman!”

Enough time had passed that I knew the serum I’d injected would be working now. “No, that’s not right. I came to tell you a bedtime story, Paul. You don’t mind if I call you Paul, do you? After all, we’re just having a chat. Since I’m here to tell you a bedtime story, I might be the sandman.”

“Do you know who I am?” He asked. Arrogant ass. I’d been calling him by his name.

“You aren’t too bright, are you Paul Robinson? I’ve been calling you by your name. I obviously know who you are, Paul.”

“I’m a United States Congressman.”

“And I’m a billionaire playboy who dresses like a bat. Who cares?”

I haul him over to a chair and shove him in it. “Sit down and let me tell you my bedtime story, Paul. Pay attention and see if you can figure out the moral of the story. See, there was this guy, Paul. A very sick individual, this guy, let’s call him Eddie.

“Eddie, he was really sick. He had this thing for women around twenty-two to twenty-six years of age. But he didn’t have a normal thing for them. No, not our Eddie. Eddie liked to hurt them.

“He’d get them to trust him and move into his home. Then he’d start trying to make them look crazy. That was his first step: get everyone around them to think they were mental. He was good at it. Eddie even got the women to think they might be going nuts. Once he had established they were crazy, Eddie would start beating them.

“Oh, I don’t mean a little slap and tickle, fifty shades of gray style. Not our Eddie. He wanted to use his fist. He wanted to see them broken and bruised. Stop me anytime if you’ve heard this story, Paul.

“Eddie loved hearing them scream and cry and the whole time he was hurting them, he’d tell them how they belonged to him. How he owned them. How if they ran away from him, someone would just bring them back to him. Why Eddie even told them if they went to the cops, they wouldn’t believe them and just call him to come get them.

“He told those girls that he was above the law. After all, his dad was a United States Congressman. ‘Who would everyone believe?’ He would ask the girls. ‘Some crazy nobody or the son of a congressman?’

“But some of those girls, they ran anyway. They went to the police only to find out Eddie was right. They tried to tell doctors when Eddie broke them that he’d done it to them, but the doctors just gave the girls back to him.

“Eddie, though, eventually got bored with his girls or they broke in the head for real. Maybe it was his plan all along. Who knows? But in the end, he killed them. He buried them and told everyone they were missing. Then after a few weeks he’d call up the policeman in charge of the missing persons case and tell them he’d found the girl and convinced her to get mental help.

“Eddie was sick, Paul, but he was also sort of smart. He’d give the police the name of the mental institution and the police investigator would call and find out, sure enough, the girl had been committed and they’d close the case. The only thing I haven’t figured out yet is who answered those calls and pretended to be a worker at the mental institutions. But don’t worry, I’ll keep digging.”

I leaned in close.” Have you heard this story, Paul? Or maybe I should ask, have you been part of a story like this, Paul?”

I could see him fighting, trying not to answer, but that’s why I’d used this serum. A direct question he couldn’t win. He’d answer and he couldn’t lie. “Yes. Damn you. How did you find out?”

“I told you Paul, I’m Batman. They call me the world’s greatest detective. I know almost everything, Paul.

“For example, I know that Eddie’s first victim was his stepmother. I know you covered that up for him by reporting her missing and telling the police you were afraid her personal trainer did something to her. I know you had him killed and made it look like suicide.”

“That’s what you did, right Paul? Did you have that poor man killed by sleeping pills and have your wife’s prescription left to shift suspicion from your son Edward?”