Nemesis Chapter 10

Nemesis Chapter 10

"Nicholas!  Did you say fire?"  Jim demanded, but there was no response from the communicator.  "Nicholas?  Nicholas!"

Several moments passed.  Nicholas did not answer.

Jim sat at his computer in silence.  His heart was pounding fast and hard in his chest.  He felt light headed, like he was about to faint.  This could not be happening.  There had to be another explanation.

*******

Jim wasn't sure how long he had sat there in a daze, waiting to hear back from his team, occasionally calling again in vain for Grant or Nicholas.

Suddenly, he heard a telltale beep on his communicator.  It was Nicholas' signal. Hope surged in his chest as he answered it.

"Nicholas, are you all right?"  Jim asked quickly.

"I'm so terribly sorry, Mister Phelps," came a familiar, condescending voice.  "The priest and his reporter friend have gone to meet their Maker."

Jim felt a flurry of different emotions -- shock, fury, and grief among them - as he recognized the voice.

"John Christie."

"I'm so flattered you remember me, Phelps," Christie sneered.

"What have you done to my team, Christie?"  Jim demanded.

"I knew they'd send you," his nemesis answered.  "You and your team.  But for all your unpredictability, Phelps, you are extremely predictable.  I met all of your team members five years ago.  I knew what kind of roles they would play.  So I sprang a trap for you.  I'm sure you know somehow about the helicopter crash that took out your two mercenary men."

Jim felt a fresh wave of dizziness sweep over him at these words.  It simply wasn't possible. He couldn't have just lost all four of his team members.

Jim was always the stoic one, the cool head in times of trouble.  Good training and so many years of experience had served him well.  But even he was having trouble keeping his composure.

"What do you want from me?"  he demanded, and cringed as he heard his voice falter.

"You put me out of business,"  Christie responded bitterly.  "I lost everything and had to start all over again.  I tried to kill you back then, but your precious team interfered.  Well, now that I took them out of the picture, there's nothing standing in my way.  I'm coming after you, Phelps.  And this time you're dead."

The connection broke.  Jim honestly wasn't sure whether he or Christie had broken it.  He sat still, numb, his mind traveling back to the moment five years before when his team watched John Christie drive away in his zebra-striped pickup truck just as the sugar mill was exploding.  His days of manufacturing chemical weapons were over, but he had gotten away - the only villain the team had ever failed to catch.  Jim, his shoulder wounded by Christie 's gunshot, had vowed that someday he would be captured.

But now....

Jim's heart was heavy.  Nicholas and Shannon had to be at least badly wounded in order for Christie to have gotten his hands on Nicholas' communicator.  And Christie was clearly behind the helicopter crash - how else would he have known about it?

Jim could probably find the old farmhouse, he reasoned; Nicholas had given decent enough instructions.  He could go and see for himself what had taken place.  But without Grant's tracking device, he had no way of knowing where to look for his other two team members.  He'd have to find a plane, and a pilot - because Max was always his pilot...

Jim shook his head, intentionally banishing the thought.  Christie was an evil man, and capable of anything, but Jim couldn't yet accept that his entire team was gone.  As long as he didn't have confirmation, he could continue to believe that they were still alive somewhere.

It was just after sunset.  If all had gone according to plan, Shannon and Nicholas would be arriving back at headquarters right about now to report what they'd learned from the informant.  Then they would plan their next move.

Suddenly, Jim thought he heard movement outside the shell building that served as the team's base.  For a moment, hope surged in Jim's chest; perhaps it was one of his friends who had survived and made their way back.  He opened his mouth to call out, but then he listened closer.

Someone was trying to break in.