Back to His Roots: Chapter 12 The Final Chapter

Jake stepped to one side, grabbed Joe by the arm and flipped him to the floor with a thud. Joe burst out laughing as he caught his breath and got to his feet, running his hand through his short brown hair.
“I thought I had you that time.” he laughed, shaking Jake’s hand and slapping his shoulder.
“Keep at it. The only way we get better is through practice.” Jake said, his mind still in training mode.
“Still impressive Joe. You did great.” Bree shouted from the side of Jake’s training room.
Jake and Joe walked to the side of the room where Red and Bree watched their sparring session and Red handed Jake a towel, admiring his sweaty, shirtless body.
“How about you give us a lesson?” Bree asked, slowly panning her eyes up and down Joe’s smaller, yet still impressive form.
“Well, we could teach you both some self defense techniques?” Joe suggested, looking to Jake for approval.
Jake nodded.
“If you want to. You are more than skilled enough to show them the ropes Joe.” Jake suggested.
Red eyed Jake over and took his hand in hers.
“I’m good. How about we leave these two alone and we do some “training” of our own in private?” Red suggested.
Jake smiled and glanced back at Bree and Joe who were already crossing to the centre of the room. Red led him out of the training room and into the bathroom, turning on the shower before letting her shorts drop to the floor, leaving her in a fine black g-string. Jake did all he could to stop his mouth opening wide in disbelief. His heart began to race at her incredible form and he watched in silence as she slipped her red singlet up over her head, letting her bare breasts fall back to their natural position with impressive firmness. She stepped into the shower, g-string still on and let the water run down her face and long red hair.
“You going to join me? I’d love to wash you.” she said seductively, licking her lips.
Jake dropped his pants and obliged her, stepping into the water and dropping to his knees. He ran his hands up her waist as he licked around her smoothly shaven labia. She ran her hands through his wet hair, lightly digging her nails into his scalp in pleasure as Jake’s tongue worked it’s way inward to the inner sanctum, flicking his tongue across her clitorus. Red gave a pleasureable moan as she allowed her g-string to slip to floor, giving Jake more access to his desires. He kissed his way up from her juicey pussy, past her belly button and stopped at her breasts to admire them. He pinched at her nipples with the perfect amount of pressure for maximum stimulation as he let his penis enter her.
Red hitched up her leg around Jake and stared deep into his eyes as she drove his penis into her, giving him a look that he fully understood.
“Deeper, harder. Fuck me harder Jake.” she ordered.
The pair continued their intimate fuck session until Red hit her limits and let out a ferocious orgasm that could only be described as primal. She dug her nails tightly into his shoulders as her whole body shuddered with pleasure. Jake withdrew his penis and Red got to work immediately, dropping to her knees and taking his shaft into her mouth. She sucked and slurped on his member, flicking her tongue around the tip while fondling his balls with her free hand. Jake moaned as he placed both hands against the wall, he could feel himself just about ready to give his troops their marching orders. With just the right amount of pressure, Red’s finger traced and rubbed Jake’s butthole. He gasped and shot a thick wad of baby batter into her mouth, which she swallowed gleefully.
“My god. who are you?” he asked breathing heavily.
“I’m the woman of your dreams.” she seductiudy said, standing up and leaning in to kiss him once more.

Back to His Roots: Chapter 11

Several weeks passed since the night of the rave party and the traumatic events of that took place that night, and though some time had been put between then and now, the memory still lingered for all involved. Jake, through deep mediation managed to put the event in context, but nightmares plagued Bree day and night.
A simple knock on the door to her home that morning made her jump as she made her cup of coffee. She crossed the room to the door and opened it slowly, peering around the side as the outside world came into view.
“Jake? What are you doing here?” she asked with relief.
He smiled and handed her a pack of chocolates, looking at her tired eyes, her frazzled hair and sloppy attire. This was not the woman Jake knew, this was a traumatized woman who was suffering.
“I figured I owed you a visit. You come back to work today don’t you?” he asked.
She nodded, beckoning him to enter.
She sat on the lounge and let out a sigh, Jake sat opposite her on a soft, brown leather recliner.
“I just. I don’t know if I can go back there.” she stammered.
Jake nodded, letting her talk. He wanted to hear how she honestly felt with her most pure words; not polluted by verbal interjections or influence.
“I just can’t stop seeing him, that figure, those eyes. I can’t forget, I can’t even sleep with the fucking light off.” she cried.
Jake reached out over the coffee table and held her hands in his as she sobbed.
“I don’t know if I am ready Jake.” she said.
He stood up from the table, guided her to the centre of the room and sat on the shag rug. He gave it a pat, telling her to sit.
She sat beside him and Jake took out a small incense burner and lit up a stick, placing it on the floor in front of them. He placed one hand on his knee and took Bree’s hand in his other and closed his eyes. The incense burnt brightly and the sandalwood scent filled the immediate area.
“Close your eyes and think. Picture that night.” he instructed.
She attempted to close her eyes but her mind wouldn’t allow her to as if some self preservation was engaged in her brain to protect her from those thoughts.
“It’s okay, I’m here. Just breathe, feel the floor beneath you and let your eyes close.” he said.
Bree glanced at Jake who sat with his eyes closed, facing the front of the room.
“How could he possibly know that my eyes weren’t closed?” she thought.
Bree did as he said and took a deep breath, allowing herself to feel the shag carpet beneath her and the polished wood floorboards beneath that. Gradually, moment by moment, she allowed her eyelids to feel heavy and she closed them. She began to feel cold and the wind blowing against her. She opened her eyes to find herself standing outside the function room at the Capital Racing Club grounds. Standing before her, still holding her hand, was Jake.
“What? How?” she stammered.
“It’s okay. It’s a meditative trance. Don’t panic and just hold my hand. You’ll be safe.” Jake instructed as he led her towards the stairs.
“But why here?” Bree asked.
“You picked the location not me. It’s obviously still present in your mind and I want to help put it behind you.” he said, leading her up the stairs.
Bree looked at the storm blowing in, it felt so real. The cold hand railing beneath the palm of her hand, the biting wind, it was as if she were truly back there. They entered the function room and Jake led her down the stairs to the Finish Line Bar. As they entered, Bree stumbled and dropped to her knees, taking in the scene. Bagman held her against the wall, his grubby gloved hand around her throat with the other on her breast. Jake lie under a stack of tables as Andy fumbled with the lock of the shutter.
“That man. His hands, his eyes. I’ll never forget those eyes.” she whimpered as Jake helped her up.
They moved to the centre of the room behind Bagman and took in the scene.
“He had you against the wall. I was under some tables. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe.” Jake said calmly.
Bree shook her head at him.
“No, you did. You did your best but he overpowered you.” she replied as the scene slowly started moving.
Jake slowly pushed himself from under the tables and then it froze again.
“No. I could have done more, I just didn’t allow myself to. Look.” he said, pointing to the image emerging from the stack of tables.
Bree crossed the room, still holding Jake’s hand and she looked at him.
“You look….scared? And angry.” she asked.
Jake nodded, remaining calm.
“I’ve thought about it every day since. I’ve meditated, I’ve reflected and acknowledged the whole night. I was scared, but not of him.” he explained.
“Then what?” Bree asked.
Jake shook his head once more.
“We aren’t here for me, we are here for you.” he explained as the scene began to move once more.
Jake’s form emerged from the tables and sprinted at Bagman, delivering a flying kick to the back of Bagman’s head. As he stumbled, Bree watched herself fall to the floor, his knife falling from it’s sheath and her keys tearing off her skirt. Bree then grabbed the knife and looked to Jake.
“That look there. That was the look of strength. You didn’t look for help, you looked for acknowledgment.” Jake said as Bree looked at the determination in her own eyes.
Bree brought the knife down on Bagman as he spun to her and the scene froze as the pair circled around the room and stood between the figures, the knife embedded deep in his shoulder.
“Look at your eyes, that isn’t fear. That is strength, the desire to live and the will to survive.” Jake explained.
Tears welled in Bree’s eyes and rolled down her tired face.
“Don’t let that night rule you. You are stronger than you know.” he explained.
The whole scene flashed in bright white as another lightning stike filled the room, Jake and Bree now standing atop the balcony once more in the wind, Jake’s form leaning on the the rail and staring at Bagman. Bree watched as he embedded the knife in the tree and took off into the darkness.
“He left the knife behind?” she asked.
“Yeah. I think it was a sign that he wasn’t done with us” Jake sighed, the image starting to blur as he let go of Bree’s hand.
They opened their eyes at the same time and Bree looked to Jake who was holding the large knife in both hands.
“What, why have you got that?” she asked, shuffling aside, scared momentarily.
“I took it before the police found it. It could be useful if he shows back up.” Jake smiled, holding it out in open palms.
“You want it?” he asked.
Bree grinned.
“Well it could serve as good bit of home defence.” she smiled.
They both stood up and Bree sat the knife atop the fireplace.
“Thank you Jake.” she said, wrapping her arms around him.
“No worries, just know that I’m always around if you need to talk.” he said.
“That and more.” she winked, grabbing him on the buttocks.

Back to His Roots: Chapter 10

The silent figure stepped from the shadows in front of Jake and Bree, brandishing a custom made hunting knife, the hooked blade as long as his forearm with a serrated edge along the back. The killer peered through two eyeholes cut out in a hessian bag that covered their head and was tied firmly at the base around their neck. They stepped forward with an intimidating stance , Jake and Bree stepping backwards in kind. Without a moments notice, the bagman lunged forward, swinging his giant blade towards Jake.
Time slowed for Jake as bagman launched his attack, the blade swinging horizontally at head height. Jake reflexively responded, falling backwards towards Bree and shoving her backwards, sending her sliding across the polished floor towards the doorway to Function Room Two.
“Run!!!” Jake called to her.
Bree skidded to a stop in the dooway and looked back to find Jake rolling sideways across the floor, avoiding another strike. As he faced the floor mid roll, he pushed down against the polished surface and propelled himself into the air, spinning and landing on his feet near the corpse of the DJ. His eyes met the vacant stare of the bagman and then he glanced to Bree. As they locked eyes Jake’s normally calm posture grew tense, an aura of seriousness entered his form; a rare occasion for him indeed. Bree nodded and fled from the room as Jake quickly assessed his situation. The bagman lunged once more at Jake with his large blade, Jake ducking and evading to his right before making a beeline to the doorway that Bree fled through.
Beneath his hessian laden face, Bagman gave a sinister grin as he looped a length of chain around the exterior doorway, and fastened it with a padlock. He prowled the room, running his knife along the tables, flicking drinks to the floor.
“Adjust your eyecam. I can’t see correctly.” Haskill ordered through the headset.
Bagman obliged and adjusted the small eyecam planted amongst the fibres of the hessian and then crossed the room in his heavy boots.
“Kill anyone in your way and retrieve that FOB. You can have your fun but don’t forget your mission.” He added.
“Affirmative” Bagman replied.

Back To His Roots: Chapter 9

“So you are telling me that you have no idea where this secret entrance is after a week of searching?” Haskill seethed.
“No. None of the staff appeared to enter and the construction workers came and left from the main building. I checked out the facility after hours, but there was nothing. I don’t know what to tell you Haskill.” the man replied.
“Then we will make one of them talk. It’s time for a more serious approach.” Haskill ordered.

The weekend of Bree’s rave party came around quickly, and Bree, Jake and Andy stood atop the exterior balcony that led into the function room enjoying a well earned drink after completing the setup. Off amidst the hills that surrounded the northern side of the race course, a figure lay in waiting, sporting the latest in binocular surveylance equipment. Tethered to the binoculars was a single earbud that allowed him to hear everything that was being discussed, which he listened to with great interest.

Back To His Roots: Chapter 8

Haskill placed the phone receiver down calmly and took a deep breath before standing from his chair abruptly, flinging a stack of papers across the floor of the dank office. He paced the floor repeatedly, muttering to himself.
“Wiped off the map? Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he shouted.
Somewhere in his ramblings, his brain tweaked and an idea came to him. His plan would be a two pronged approach, but first he needed the manpower to do the job. He crossed the room and placed his pudgy hand on the phone receiver and speed dialled an unmarked number on his phone. It rang.
“Goulburn Correctional Facility.” the voice answered.
“It’s Haskill, Queanbeyan Country Racing.” he replied.
“Transferring you now.” they answered.
The phone beeped as the lines connected and it wasn’t long until Haskill heard a familiar voice.
“Special services. How can I help you.” the female answered.
“It’s Haskill. I need some bodies for a job.” he explained.
“Again? You only got one recently.” she replied.
“Yes and they uncovered some very important information for me. Now I need four more capable bodies to finish the job.” he said.
“FOUR!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, four. I want two for muscle, someone with a history in explosives, and a tech person.” he said.
She sighed down the phone line, the hairs on Haskill’s neck stood on end.
“Okay. I’ll make it happen. Wire the money and no more for the rest of the year.” she explained.
Haskill grinned like a chubby chipmunk, knowing that the end of the year was mere months away, but he dare not say a word.
“Okay. Send them to the usual location. Thank you.” he said, hanging the phone up.
He walked back to his chair and sat down, belting out a hearty laugh.
“See you soon Drew.” he chuckled.

Back To His Roots: Chapter 7

“Looks like they’re pulling over. Permission to engage?” the voice asked.
“No. Just monitor for now. The timing needs to be right. Use the directional microphone and listen in.” the male voice directed through the crackling headset.
The figure leant back and grabbed a gun-shaped device and pointed it discretely over the steering wheel of their car, popping in an earbud and connecting it to the gadget.
“Listening in now.” they said.
Bree swung open the car door and Jake crossed the yard to survey the house; a small home surrounded by much larger houses. His first impression was immediately one of claustrophobia with such big homes stretching above the small house.
“We might as well give it a look.” Jake said dejectedly.
Bree, picking up on Jakes tone, looped her arm through his.
“Come on. Maybe it’s bigger than it looks.” she winked, patting him on his firm rump.
The two disappeared into the house, while their uninvited guest patiently awaited their return, listening in with their device.