Officer Jones

Chapter 89

Grady Benson was in Batman mode now, as he flew his final mission. Maloney was hardly a suitable replacement for Kyle. Thoughts of his former wingman flashed him back to the trip they took to Seattle. They had drove out to Mount St. Helens, where Kyle spread his parents’ ashes. He’d never felt so close to anyone as he did at that moment, and they vowed to fight, so others wouldn’t have to feel the same pain.

But there was no time for sentiment. He knew the clock was ticking and he needed to act fast. It was time for his final summation. He reached for the radio receiver.

“I’m just one man, and my accomplishments are nothing more than a start. But I am confident that many others will pick up where I left off.” He paused for a moment, trying to check his emotions, but this time he couldn’t contain them. “I never want someone else to have to go through what I did.”

“What about the real Kyle Jones … did he deserve to die?”

“Kyle was anything but innocent. Like me, he was granted the opportunity to protect lives, yet he chose to hide behind a wall of closure, and even accepted blood money from his parents’ killers. By doing so, he was responsible for enabling more families being torn apart. And the ironic thing was, while he remained silent, I was the one who spoke out about houseboat safety!”

“Only after you used it as a tactic to kill Leonard Harris. I think your concern was more about covering your own tracks.”

“Who was going to get justice for those girls that Harris murdered in cold blood? The police, who were too busy looking the other way when one of their own like Kyle Jones was caught driving drunk? Or maybe the judge who let Harris off with just probation?”

“The church of Grady Benson doesn’t seem to believe in redemption or forgiveness. I know Noah did, and he had dedicated his life to making up for past mistakes. And from what I’ve learned, so did Leonard Harris. Perhaps they could have been assets in your fight, but you were too focused on revenge.”

“It’s so typical of the media to shift the focus away from the victims. Where is your empathy for Lisa Spargo? How come there are no questions about Marilyn Lacey?”

Batman felt his nerves straining, but he fought to stay focused. He knew Warner was just trying to distract him from the task at hand, as many had tried to do along his journey, including Gwen. He needed to complete his story, and JP Warner was a necessary evil to make it happen.

But his attention was stolen away by the vibrating medallion around his neck. He filled with dread, visualizing an escape at the beach house. But he realized that there was no way out, and figured it was just a piece of wood dislodged during the hurricane.

He used Gwen to lure Warner to this final confrontation. And now that his story was almost complete, he had no use for her. He had kept her alive to use her as a bargaining chip, but any thoughts that the FBI would cut a deal with him in exchange for Gwen Delaney was ludicrous. It couldn’t be trusted, even if offered. He would die today.

But his tale would live beyond his life. A smile came over his face as he visualized Warner finding the bodies of Gwen and Carter, when the authorities searched the beach house. The storm that had protected the island from outside forces, and kept any possibility of discovering their whereabouts before he completed his final mission, was another helping hand from above. It might be days before anyone would be allowed back on the island. The storm room would protect them from the hurricane, but he only left enough water to survive for a couple of days. Just like him, they were running out of time. If they hadn’t already.

But his journal would survive. A collection of stories about how one man doing his small part could change the world for the better. He felt at peace, confident that driven by Warner’s thirst for revenge following the discovery of Gwen’s death, he would go to great lengths to condemn Grady Benson. But Warner’s hate would backfire, and in the end, people would rally around the triumphant stories.

Batman sped toward the bridge, knowing the guardrail couldn’t hold his police cruiser that was traveling at over ninety miles-an-hour. He would not allow the enemy to capture him-his message would be crushed by their propaganda, which would label him as a ranting lunatic. He was in control of the ending.

He looked at the whimpering Maloney, slumped in the passenger seat. His face was ashen and paralyzed with fear. In his last moments he should have been thinking of those whose lives he helped destroy, but in the end he only begged for his own life.

Batman took one final glance into the mirror. He noticed the FBI van gaining speed. But he knew they would never catch him