The Lies and the Lives of the Taken

Frank 36

        I take a deep breath of air as the guy releases me. He throws me to the side violently, whipping me like a rag doll. The momentum is too strong as the top half of my body is going faster than my bottom half. My feet barely gain traction before Gerard shoots me. 

        The gun rapidly explodes three times, each shot right after the next. I don't feel the bullets. I feel the force. The impact of each bullet knocks me backward as I collapse on the ground. I...can't move. I can't breathe. I can't feel. No, that's a lie. I can feel. Pain. Getting shot isn't that bad? This is the worst pain I can ever remember. Metal cylinders blasted at a dangerous speed tear through my body. Chunks of my flesh rip off and blood starts leaking out of me. 

        "Wow," the guy says. I can't move. I can't move my head or my legs or my hands. I can't even move my eyes. Just needles. Needles run up and down my nerves and I don't have control. Am I paralyzed? Am I dead? "I did not think you had it in you." He speaks with a Russian accent like the woman. And like Gerard. Why is he talking in a Russian accent? "Why isn't he using "the" and "a" in his sentences anymore?  Why is he acting like the other two? Why didn't he react when his colleague was killed? Why did he shoot me?

        "I was favorite for reason," Gerard says. He doesn't look at me. "What else is here for us?" he asks. 

        The other two exchange glances. He checks his gun, glancing at the female agent. Gerard kneels down at her side, reaching for her holster and grabbing extra clips for the gun. But he does something else. I barely gain strength to move my eyes and see. Gerard's hand slips inside her jacket. Only for a moment while he grabs the extra clips. He doesn't take anything out though when he stands back up. He just hands the woman the ID she tossed to the male agent. Then the three of them step out of the cabin, walking into the last bit of daylight.

        I'm going to die. They left me here to die. He shot me. I strain myself, desperately looking to see the others. They're lying on the ground. The girl is lying in a literal pool of blood spread out from her knees to her shoulders with a half a foot radius surrounding her body. Her eyes are closed with light smudges of red brushed over her eyelids. Gerard had blood on his hands. Probably from trying to help her. Then he closed her eyes. The guy has a wound to his right arm but also two shots in his heart and one through his forehead. They're dead. I'm going to end up like them. I'm going to die. No one knows what happened here. No one is coming. I can't move. I can barely stay awake, the shock getting to me. I'm going to bleed out and die. 

        Everything is like a dream sequence. The bright lights shining and spinning. It's mostly white but there's blue and red occasionally flashing in the corners. Silhouettes of people's faces leaning over me. I can't move or speak but they keep asking questions. I don't understand what they're saying but even if I could, I can't speak. 

        I'm lying down with a mask over my face. The wheels turning, rumbling and rolling down the ground. The mask makes respiratory clicking noises, air hissing. Two people on either side of me hold the rails on the cart I lay on and take me down. Rectangular lights above pass by in a blur. 

        I wake up abruptly and sit up but my shoulders and chest ache, forcing me to lay back down. I groan out, falling back on the pillow. Where am I? I glance around. I'm in a hospital. Again. Because...I was shot...again. 

        "You're awake." I glance over, seeing Macy in a chair with a laptop. She doesn't look well. Her hair isn't neatly pulled back and her eyes are sunken in and dark. She closes the computer and sets it on the table next to her coffee.

        "How long have you been here?" I whisper. My voice is dry.

        "Not too long. The doctors said you were expected to wake up this afternoon," she says. "How are you feeling?"

        "Sore," I mutter. "What's going on?"

        "You're in the hospital," she says. I nod my head. My surroundings are a little obvious. I've been shot. By Gerard. He did this to me. I'm in here again because of him. He didn't shoot me in Austria but I never should have stepped in front of him to protect him. Look where that got me. Macy shifts forward, looking at me softly. "Frank, I know you've been through a lot but we need your help."

        A fear starts creeping up the more I think about it. I don't like it. I feel like I'm in danger, there's no place on this earth where I can be safe. "I don't know, it all happened so fast," I tell her.

        Macy glances to the side. My heart rate is increasing. She speaks softer. "I know this is hard but you are the only witness we have. Anything you can recall is better than nothing."

        "I don't know what's real or not," I say. My voice is shaking and I can't get it to stop. "I keep trying to think back but...I don't know what happened and...what my head is making up like a dream."

        Macy pauses, giving me a look. She feels bad for me. "You were shot three times in the chest-"

        "Well, I got that much," I say, gently running my fingers over where the stitches and bandages are. 

        "Yes, but all in the exact places that would do minimum damage. All three bullets went through and through, missing any major arteries, muscles, bones, and organs."

        I look at her in disbelief. The last time I was in the hospital, it was because I took a bullet and I survived. It's happened again but three times worse. "I guess I'm lucky," I mutter.

        Macy looks skeptically. "I don't think luck had anything to do with this," she says. "The bullets came from Reeves' gun."

        "Huh?" I mutter. That doesn't make sense. Gerard shot me. He took the gun out from his...it was his belt, not his holster. Why did he use her gun?

        "That's why we're confused too," she says. "It doesn't make sense." Reeves is dead. If he shot me with his own weapon, it would be obvious he shot me and he's also missing, which would raise more questions. But Reeves is dead and using her gun wouldn't make sense. Which is why he did it. But they don't know that. "We were hoping you could tell us," Macy sighs. "Personally, I don't think she would do such a thing but I also wasn't there."

        "How did you guys know when to come?" I ask.

        She glances at me for a second before looking down. "Someone also called 911. They used Reeves' phone but silenced it. The phone records showed the call happen nearly right after Reeve's time of death so it had to be someone else." My heart beats faster again on the monitor. Gerard. He reached down to her side to get more bullets for the gun. But he was messing with her jacket. Something inside the jacket. The phone. He called the 911. And he silenced the phone so they others wouldn't hear the operator. "Local emergency vehicles were able to trace the location of the phone, which is why help came before any agents. However, Agent Reeves and Toro were found dead and Reeve's gun was gone." Gerard took it. He used her gun to shoot me then he removed it from the scene with her back up clip. Then he called 911. "Frank, Gerard is missing. Whoever shot up the safe house are the same people that are after him. He's in danger and you're the only one who can help him."

        The way they spoke to him. The woman, Zoe or something, she called him something else. Dmitry. They all had Russian accents. They were speaking Russian. They didn't take him. He left with them willingly on his own. They didn't have to hold him or beg him to follow. He went with them without question. He...really isn't who he says he is. He's not a financial advisor but I don't think he's CIA either. However, the CIA doesn't know that. If they did, Macy wouldn't be coming to me for information. 

        Zoe told him to kill me and he didn't. Gerard's trained to kill. He knows where to exactly aim. He didn't miss. He meant to shoot me where he did so I wouldn't die. And then he called 911 behind their backs. I'm sure the agents notified the CIA when the safe house was first shot up but if it took us 3 hours to get here, Gerard knew back up wouldn't make it in time. He called 911 to save me. I don't know who he really is but...he doesn't want to kill me. 

        I look at Macy. "I'm sorry, I can't remember anything."