Means of Justice: Scene #6

At the end of every chain of violence, justice is just another means to an end. My case is no different than any other. Except this time, I've drowned myself. I'm charged with murder, and I broke a vow to the CIA and betrayed confidence to a civilian. I put them in danger. Cost: the death penalty.  Death is inevitable.

Ryne looked up from the table he was cuffed to as his lawyer entered, just like every other time. Imogen strode to the table, eyes lingering on the man chained to the table.

She swallowed as she slid into her seat, "Hello, Mr. Jefferson."

He adopted the same mocking smile as always, drawing up his guard. He rested his fingertips on the tabletop and leaned forward.

"Now, Miss Murphy, I know there's no way you'll believe this." He tipped his head, eyes dull but smile wry. "I didn't kill him."

Her eyes flitted to her file. "Well Mr. Jefferson...there's a lot of evidence against you," she said reluctantly.

"You always say that."

"It's always true," she cleared her throat and read off the evidence. "Police found your fingerprints at the crime scene and several witnesses saw you in Mr. Burdick's office Thursday morning, many heard the gunshot."

"I'm not concerned about witnesses, Miss Murphy." 

Ryne let his smile fold and leaned back in his chair wearily. Imogen swallowed, eyes sweeping the room. 

She focused in him again, "Is there anything you can tell me that will help your case?"

"You know everything."

"Ryne..." she sighed. "You know what's coming."

"Yes," he agreed quietly.

"I'm not afraid to die," he looked into her eyes. "But I'm terrified by the prospect of dying in vain."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking away from his eyes. "I wish..." she blinked and shook her head, bringing herself to look at him again.

"Miss Murphy, I learned something from you," he said, looking at the table.

"What's that?"

"The one thing that makes bankers, lawyers and preachers the same is that they're all very confused and frightened people. You know what happens when you put a gun to their head?"

Imogen shook her head slowly, "No, what?"

"You look in that person's eyes and see they're just as scared as you are. Justice is good. It's right. But it's just a way of saying I don't think you're good enough to live."

"Ryne, don't." 

 

Ryne watched her critically as her jaw worked.

"No, Imogen. It's the truth. Putting a gun to someone's head is just like a mother going to a clinic and having an abortion. All we're saying is 'you don't deserve to be alive'. So we put them out of their misery." Ryne paused, "Is that the right thing to do? Maybe not in some people's eyes. But in some cases, cases like this," he looked her in the eye again. "Where innocents get hurt...it's the just thing to do, even if it's not right."

She clenched her teeth, "You're guilty but you've done nothing wrong, right?"

"I protected the people who needed protected. I'm only as guilty as everyone else whose job it is to uphold the law."

"Why wouldn't you be?"

"I'm one man in thousands. They'll evaluate. But I can't say anything about my work."

They won't come to my rescue this time because I involved you. I'm a danger to them now and I've lost my usefulness.

Imogen dipped her head, gripping the file in her hand, "I can only work with the evidence I have."

"I know. I can't ask more than that."

She nodded, then whispered, "I wish I could do more."

Ryne traced his fingers along the tabletop. "There is one thing."

She met his gaze, "What is it?"

"If anything happens... Will you make sure she has flowers?"

"Ryne," she choked, then bobbed her head, "Yes."

Ryne let out a small sound of relief and told her, "Daisies. Libby likes daisies."

"Okay. I will. I promise." she forced a small smile.

As a police escort returned to take him away, Ryne nodded and said the last two words of his life, "Thank you."

#

    Hi guys!

      Sadly, this is the end of this story. Boohoo! =( 

      Next Thursday, a new one will begin. If you have suggestions for future stories or comments about this one, please email us at cherise.tess@gmail.com or nevermoreemergingflame@gmail.com. 

     Thanks for being faithful followers!

     -Cherise

Means of Justice - Scene # 5

Ryne stood in the back of the van Falor had driven them in. He adjusted his coat over a bulletproof vest.

"Ready?" He asked Falor.

"All systems go," the dark man answered from behind his laptop.

Imogen sat on a crate in the corner of the van, watching the two men, mind spinning at what they were about to do. Falor handed Ryne a bug, and Ryne tucked it in his ear. He tucked a gun in his coat and then a spare roll of extra shot. Imogen looked up at Ryne, waiting for instruction. She was getting antsy. Ryne loaded another gun and held it out to her.

She took it, "I'm not killing anyone."

"I know," Ryan answered quietly. "That's to protect yourself if I can't." 

He looked at her, meaning clear. She nodded, fingers tightening around the gun.

"How does it work?"

He came and knelt beside her. "Put your hands like this. Take off the safety here, aim, and pull the trigger." 

He gestured to the pieces on the small gun. She held it like he said, palms sweaty. 

She swallowed, cleared her throat, then nodded, "Alright."

"Hide it in your coat like mine," he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and straightened. "You'll be safe as long as I'm not down."

She tucked it in her jacket and stood, "Don't get shot."

"I can't promise that," his lips twitched in a small smile. Imogen huffed softly. "But I promise not to get shot on purpose. That's your job. Getting me in. Then, I'll get us out."

She bit back a small smile, "Alright."

Ryne straightened his jacket and offered his arm. "Shall we?"

Imogen took his arm stiffly and followed him out. Ryne led her out into the crisp breeze and onto the sidewalk. Her eyes darted around the people on the street, wondering if they knew what was about to happen.

"Don't," Ryne said in a calm voice. "Act like you would normally going into work." He winked and added, "Except you're carrying a handsome man on your arm." She nodded stiffly, forcing a smile. She tried to calm her pounding heart. Ryne guided her toward the front door of her business. "Breathe deep and slow. Talk. Act natural."

She nodded, trying to breathe like he said.Ryne released her arm to approach the door and opened it for her.Imogen stepped into the cool building, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile as she greeted the people in her workplace. Ryne fell into step with her once more, letting her lead him.Ryne cleared his throat and guided her toward the restrooms.

"By the way," he pulled a box out of his pocket and slid it in hers. "You might want to put that on. And you might want to remember that you're going to your boss's office to fill out papers of resignation."

"What?" she frowned and opened the box. Her eyes widened and she fingered the ring, "What do you mean resignation?"

"Relax, it's all part of the plan."

"Losing my job is part of the plan?" she shoved the ring back at him.

"You won't lose it. It's a technicality. You need a reason to be in the office."

"So when we're finished I'm going to still have my job after being an accessory to murder?" she hissed.

"You were never here. Falor has the cameras. I'm alone." She ground her teeth and searched his face. Ryne reached out in a public display of affection and took her face in his hands, eyes serious. "Trust me."

She held his gaze for a moment, then averted her eyes, nodding is his hands. 

"Okay," she whispered.

Ryne brushed her cheek with his thumb and then released her.

"Now put it on and for about thirty minutes pretend you're happily married for me."

Imogen sighed and slipped on the ring. 

She slipped her arm through his again and smiled, "Better?"

Ryne lowered her head close to hers and then whispered, "Much."

Imogen felt calmer with him beside her so she stuck close to him as they walked back down the hall. Ryne slid his arm around her waist and kept her close. 

"You know the way," he murmured.

Imogen led him to a corner office where her boss sat, she knocked on the door and waited.

Ryne put a hand on her arm and told her.

"Get in, get it done. When you come out, I'm going in. You beat it." He pulled the bug out of his ear and put it in hers. "Be careful. Go back to your office and act like a normal day is going on."

She nodded and caught his arm as he went to leave, "You be careful, too."

He gave a husky laugh, glancing behind him at the clock. Lunch break would only afford them fifteen minutes. He pressed something into his palm.

"Put this on his desk," he said.

Imogen took it and turned as footsteps approached the door. Ryne moved away from her, gesturing for her to go inside. She smiled as the door opened her her boss peeked his head out. 

"Hi, can we talk?" she said.

"Miss Murphy," the man adjusted his coat. "Of course. Come inside."

Imogen followed him inside and closed the door softly behind her. She walked up to his desk as he sat down. She tried to calm herself so her voice wouldn't shake. She took a deep breath.

"I'd like to turn in my resignation," she held up her hand with a fond smile, the ring glittering on it, "I'm starting a new chapter in my life."

The man stared at her, halfway into his chair. "You're married? My...you're not the woman I would've said to choose such a path, Miss Murphy."

She cleared her throat and smiled, "People can change. I've found a wonderful man. I plan to be plenty busy."

Her boss sat down slowly as she lowered her hand. "Are you certain you want to do this? You have a very promising career, Imogen."

Imogen nodded, swallowing. She tried not to think about what was about to happen to him. 

"Yes, sir," she replied slowly. "This is what I want."

"Well, I suppose being a wife and mother is as just a cause as any." 

He opened a drawer in his desk and began sifting through files. Imogen lay her hands on the desk as she spoke, working the bug under a sticky note behind his computer monitor. She worked her jaw but kept a smile as he handed her the papers.

"Thank you," she replied.

The man reached in his top drawer and handed her a pen. He gestured to the papers and told her, "Sign here and here." 

The pen tapped lightly against the pages in her fingers. She nodded quickly and scrawled her name without thinking. She handed the pen and pages back to him and stood, smiling again. 

"Thank you," she repeated. "I'll miss it here."

"And we'll miss you as well, Miss Murphy," the man said seriously. "You're a beacon of expertise in your field."

"Thank you," she nodded and stepped back out of the office, touching her ear. When the door was closed she whispered, "Done."

She didn't see Ryne anywhere. She stepped away from the door and touched her ear again. 

Frowning she whispered, "Ryne?"

No one answered. She heard the rustling of papers and her boss's grumbling in the bug. Silence surrounded her. All she could do was follow Ryne's directions and go to her office and wait.

Once in her office, she paced the floor. She ignored the nagging thought in her mind that told her to just leave and go home and focused on the growing knot of worry in her stomach. 

What are we doing? Where is he?

The static of papers in her ear ceased and she heard a door shut sharply.

"Jefferson?" Her boss's voice sounded worried.

"Did you miss me, Burdick?"

"What can I do for you?"

Imogen sank into her chair behind her desk, hands gripping the sides of it. She swallowed hard. I don't want to hear this. But she couldn't bring herself to take the bug out of her ear.

"What do you want?" Her boss snarled.

Imogen heard the safety being turned off the gun. She could almost see Ryne's finger on the trigger. The look in his eyes, cold as the steel weapon in his hand.

"Justice."

"What have I done to you?"

"Not me. Try these names: Carter Jones. Penelope Donald. George and Grace Jacobs. David Attles."

Silence.

"What about them?"

"You rigged their trials."

"You don’t have any proof!"

"I'm with the CIA, sir. I have all proof. You may as well confess."

"Confess to crimes I didn't commit? Never!"

There was a thud of bodies slamming into the desk and the sound of thrashing and then slight choking.

"Tell the truth, bastard," Ryne hissed. "Confession is good for the soul."

Imogen cringed, still listening.

"What if I didn't?" Choked out her boss's voice. "Would you let me live?"

"I'm a businessman, Burdick. I do what I'm told. Just like you. Except your money is your master."

"My money?"

"You received a twenty thousand dollars check for the rigging of each case. All the checks came from a private company to which each person owed money. You sabotaged their lives."

"I did what was best. Those people weren't hurt by a little time. Most of them were drunks and losers. Miscreants."

"Fool!" Ryne growled at him. "They're more human than you!" Her boss spat. More silence.

"Want to remind me of the next name on their list, Charles Burdick?"

"I prefer silence to--"

"Answer," Ryne ordered. Imogen's heart pounded. She knew what was coming. "Who was next, Burdick?" Ryne growled. "An employee of yours they wanted, wasn't it?"

Trashing and then a whimper.

"Yes!"

"Who?" Ryne asked firmly.

Who? Imogen wondered.

Her boss squeaked out, "Murphy. She was in the way of expansion, so I paid her with money from their accounts. I knew they'd come for collection later. I--"

Ryne huffed softly in a sound that resembled a displeased laugh and Imogen heard a clicking sound.

"See you on the other side, Burdick."

"No!"

The gun went off with a bang.

Imogen's eye widened and her heart stopped. Me? She ripped the device from her ear, trembling. No sooner had she done so then the alarm went off

"Ryne?" she grabbed the ear piece and spoke into it. "Ryne, where are you?"

No one answered her.

It was only moments before she saw the uniformed police from across the street run into the building, headed straight for her. She jammed the device into her pocket and went for the door, trying to look bewildered rather than terrified.

Ryne was no where to be seen in the bewildered jumble of people. The police were trying to calm them, but to no avail. Imogen pushed passed people, shoving them out of her way as she searched for him. 

 

"Ryne!" she hissed, fingering the bug in her pocket.

She couldn't find him. Imogen managed to worm her way out of the building. When she did, the van was gone. She looked around, then started running back the way they'd come, back to his apartment. 

Please be there, She ran down the street to their apartments, into the complex, and down the hall. She bypassed her apartment to his.

Imogen ran up to his door and pounded on it, breathing heavily. "Ryne?"

She heard footsteps and the door opened. Ryne stood before her, his dark hair wet, wearing only jeans. "Did we have dinner plans?"

"Ryne, they're coming," She pushed her wait in the door.

"Go home," he commanded.

"You have to go," she said.

Ryne kept the door open. "Go home," he repeated. "You shouldn't be here when they come."

"Come with me!" she pleaded.

"That will put you under suspicion."

Imogen knew he was right, "Then you have to hide."

"I'll be alright."

How can he be so calm about it?!

Imogen cringed as she heard sirens growing closer, "No you won't."

Ryne looked down at her. "Looks like I need a lawyer."

She blinked, "I just resigned."

"No you didn't. You just got back from vacation. You're engaged," he shut the door in her face.

"Ryne!" she howled in frustration and hit the door, hand on the knob. "Alright," she said softly through the door.

"Go home," he walked away from the door.

She frowned hard and walked away slowly, only picking up speed when the sirens became deafening. 

 

He saved me.

Imogen went into her apartment. The space was just as she'd left it. 

Why would he do that? 

She went to her window and stared out of it. Her eyes lingered on the police cars. Officers were getting out and running for the building. She curled up on her couch and waited, not sure what she was waiting for. 

As she did, Imogen looked at the coffee table. She saw a folder resting there that wasn't hers. There was a note on top of it on a post it note with the office bug next to it. She frowned, reached for it slowly, and picked it up. On top of the folder, under the note, was her resignation page. The note said:

This should be enough to put his corporation and the others on that wall under for a long time.

Imogen flipped through the file, reading quickly.

And what about you, Ryne? She was suddenly less confident in her abilities as a lawyer. What if I can't get him out? The law says they'll try him...and probably convict him for murder. But under what outcome? Prison?...or death sentence? She shuddered and rubbed her head. I have to get him out.