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  • At first Jack just drifted in and out of consciousness. His memory came back to him in small slices. A quick glimps here and then another there before he faded to black again. He remembered the photos of three or four different men with their throats slit. He'd picked them up from a table and was staring at them as his head exploded in pain and he heard a distant gunshot.

    He tried to feel his head but his wrists were shackled to the bed. He moved his head and felt the thickness of the gauze rub on the pillow. If he lay perfectly still, the pain lessened. His mouth felt dry and he reasoned that some of his memory loss was drug induced. He closed his eyes to lower the pain and drifted back to unconsciousness.

    When he came to this time, he opened his eyes to a man standing across the room. He looked vaguely familiar; like a face from his past. He couldn't place him at first. Then a flash of memory had him with two other men. They all had badges...marshals. He was one of the marshals. The one who planned the relocation of his family.

    His family! Suddenly all his memories flooded his vision and he knew why he had been ambushed.

    "I see you recognize me so I don't have to keep injecting you to keep you under. Your part in this little drama will soon be over. Your fingerprints are on the photos and the handle of the knife. We have already planted the idea of your identity with the police. Tomas Santiago's body will never be found, but his drug empire will continue under new management. We've had to wait seven long years for you to finally surface. I'm the only one who knew the identities you could use. None of them were ever registered with the marshal's service, so I couldn't enter a non-existing name into our search engine without setting off alarms.

    But as soon as you booked a flight to Newark under the name of Jack Pierce, my computer notified me." he lectured Jack as if he should be proud of his accomplishments.

    "That's right, if you hadn't wandered off you would have been taken care of with the other two agents and the rest of your family seven years ago, and we could have advanced our plans then. We would have blamed it all on the Santiago crew and staged a fake gang war. But we didn't know where you were or what you knew."

    He paused as his cell phone rang. "Yeah...He's awake and understands most of it. You want me to kill him now?...Ok, I'll give him another injection at five pm before releasing his shackles...You know where we are. You and your partner need to be here by six...When he comes to the knife will be in his hands. If your partner doesn't kill him, make sure you do. He knows too much to stay alive...Yeah, Sonny, I'll be long gone before you show up." He hung up his phone and smirked at Jack, "Looks like you're going to be given a chance to escape. Like a Mexican jailbreak, you'll be given a knife to carry to a gun fight. Of course you will be drugged so your senses will be a mite dull."
    He paused while he prepared the injection. With no intention of waiting around 'til five, he would knock him out now, stage his release with the knife and clear out. He wanted to be in another city when the 'capture' went down. If Sonny did his part right, his partner would get the honors of stopping this bloody vendetta. And with the heat off, their new drug trafficing enterprise would return to the highly profitable level Santiago had kept it.

    His phone rang again and he looked at the caller I.D. before answering it cheerfully, "Hi, honey...I don't know what time I will be home, but definitely tonight...No, don't hold dinner for me...You know I can't tell you where I am...I love you too." All the while he was talking he kept getting ready.

    He injected Jack with half as much as the day before. That should hold him until Sonny and his partner showed up. As soon as Jacks breathing slowed, he released the shackles and placed the knife in his right hand.
    He grabbed his bag and headed for the airport. He could do no more...
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