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She told Ben she wouldn’t do anything stupid, but if she was within killing distance of Tobias, she had to make it happen for the greater good. And this time, she’d be sure to take some real backup.
“No better time than now, then. I’m ready if you are.”
They were out the door as Ripley said, “Is Cromwell around?”
“Doubt it. I haven’t seen him since we got back.”
Ripley looked up and down the precinct, mostly deserted. “Hey, guys, do you have an armory locker around here?” She turned back to her partner and smiled. “We’re going prepared this time.”
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Edgewater, Maryland, was around thirty miles past the D.C. border. Ella hadn’t been here herself, only heard about it from Ripley. It was a tranquil, picturesque little slice of paradise, especially at the witching hour. A coastal town full of filthy rich folks making the most of their later years, but there was a monster among them.
Before leaving Hicksberg, they’d loaded up their trunk with two AR rifles, two shotguns, and a stack of ammunition. Their destination was a small cottage right on the coast, miles away from the nearest fellow citizen. It was only a single floor high but the home stretched much further than any of the similar residences she’d passed along the way. It was painted a homey cream color, but what struck Ella most were the blacked out windows.
“It’s here,” Mia said, driving past and circling around. “The moment I stop this car, we burst in and take no prisoners. Are you with me?”
Ella felt that sensation again, that she was in the presence of unhinged psychopaths. If she wanted to settle this war once and for all, tonight she’d have to become one of them. Murder was in the air tonight because she knew that Tobias wouldn’t be alone. She cocked her shotgun and reiterated the importance of their raid – it was to save their own lives and the lives of the ones they loved.
She cocked the shotgun. “Hell yes I’m ready.”
The cottage came back into view. “Dark, if we die here then the past year has been the most fulfilling year I’ve had in as long as I can remember.”
“Save it, Ripley. This isn’t a night for well-wishes. This is a night to kick ass.”
“Now you really are sounding like me,” Ripley nodded. “We’re going in three, two…”
Their car screeched to a halt. Both agents burst out and rushed towards the door, making little effort to conceal their arrival. The door was solid, modern, recently fitted. Ella aimed her shotgun at the lock, fired it with a thunderous blast and blew the door clean open.
Mia went in first, AR rifle positioned against her chest. She slammed her hand against the wall for light and brightened the entire living room.
Yes, Ella’s theory had proven correct because she saw three sleeping bags on the floor. Upon their intrusion, bodies rose from within. A chorus of wails echoed throughout the house, then suddenly the agents were staring at three armed assailants.
“She’s here!” one shouted.
“Look out,” screamed another.
“We need to kill her…”
That was the probable cause they needed. Ripley unleashed what Ella assumed was seventeen years’ worth of frustration upon these disciples in their long-standing game of death. Ripley pulled the trigger on her assault rifle, spraying bullets into the three assailants like it was the end of days. The room erupted into a tumult of blood, and Ella couldn’t make out much beyond the sudden explosion of energy.
Ella dug deep to find some compassion for these men. They could be family men who’d lost their way, weak-minded souls who Tobias purposely sought out. They could have been addicts or people who had no other choice. Death, she felt, deserved a moment of stillness, no matter the victim’s qualities. But tonight, it was her or them.
Ripley emptied the magazine, the living room now awash bullet holes. A sofa had been torn to shreds. A wooden cabinet had toppled to the ground. A chandelier had fallen from the ceiling.
“Check the rooms, Dark,” Ripley called as she charged forward. She dumped her rifle and pulled out her Glock. Ella went to her left and found a storage room, empty. Then a bathroom, equally barren. She and Ripley met at the door to the bedroom. Ella yanked the door open, aimed her weapon inside and found it empty.
“We need to check these victims. See if Tobias is among them.”
“No,” Ripley said calmly. “Trophy room. This one here.”
She pointed to a narrow doorway that Ella assumed was an entrance to a closet. Ripley opened it up, revealing a narrow walkway. “Flashlight,” she said.
Ella grabbed her Maglite and illuminated the entranceway. Ripley walked through, no hesitation, and fiddled inside for a light switch. Another sizeable room and unlike the others. Ella took a moment to consume her surroundings. This was the Collector’s trophy room. A tribute to the world’s most heinous serial killers. Glass cabinets lined the walls, housing artifacts from history’s human monsters. There were serial killer letters and artwork framed on the walls. Each corner of the room had a mannequin dressed as a notorious criminal: Adolf Hitler, Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, and Albert Fish.
But nothing from Tobias Campbell.
“Where’s the Tobias stuff? The nooses?”
