Jason Steed: Face-Off

  Boudicea looked down at Jason and smiled. The frost bitten side of her face looked hideous as she smiled. She held Jason’s chin with her thumb and forefinger.

  “I don’t trust him. He’s cunning, fast and don’t let his pretty face fool you. He’s a killer; he could squash both of us and Luke without breaking a sweat. I underestimated him once but never again. Remove his legs.” Boudicea demanded.

  Dr. Kemp’s mouth dropped. “What?”

  “His legs. Amputate them, I can feed them to Luke and it will prevent him from causing us any problems.”

  “But Boudicea, he is strapped to the bed, he can’t move. He could die from such a surgery and we need him strong and healthy. The skin is a major organ and the less stress the better,” Dr. Kemp argued.

  Boadicea’s eyes narrowed she looked back down at Jason. “Sedate him. I won’t take any risks. Keep him sedated until you have removed the side of his face, then let him wake. I want to hear his screams.”

  Dr Kemp nodded.

  “Now. Do it now,” Boudicea screamed.

  “Yes mam.” Dr Kemp stuttered. As he opened a cabinet full of drugs, his fingers danced across the bottles.

  Boudicea smiled at Jason. “The next time you see me, I will have a fully repaired face and you my dear boy will have no skin on the side of your face and you will be missing a limb. Luke likes fresh meat. We can harvest you bit by bit.”

  Jason looked away from her. Nothing he could say seemed appropriate.

  “Ah what’s the matter Jason? Are you sad? Never mind it will all be over for you in a few days.”

  Dr Kemp returned with a syringe. He held it up and flicked out the air bubbles before injecting it into Jason’s intravenous line. Jason caught Dr Kemp’s eyes. He winked at Jason.

  “He will be out in a few seconds. Jason, count to ten for me please,” Dr. Kemp said.

  “Go take a running...” Jason paused his eyes closed he lay motionless pretending to sleep.

  “He’s out now Boudicea; he can’t do us any harm,” Dr Kemp said.

  “We will see about that,” Boudicea said picking up a scalpel.

  She waved the scalpel over Jason’s body and stopped at his stomach.

  “No, I need his body healthy,” Dr. Kemp protested.

  She ignored him and lowered the blade just below Jason’s chest bone. The scalpel did its job. It was sharp and easily cut through Jason’s skin. For a second he felt no pain just his blood trickling over his stomach. But that was rapidly followed by an immense pain. The cut was four inches long and deep.

  Jason wanted to scream in agony. Sweat beads formed across his body as he fought the pain. He tried concentrating on something else— thoughts of Wong Tong fighting to his death, sacrificing himself in an attempt to save Jason. His mind fought to think of other things, anything to block out the searing pain.

  Boudicea dropped the blood-covered scalpel on Jason’s stomach and wiped her bloodstain fingers off on his leg.

  “Tomorrow morning I want you to carry out the transplant. Keep him sedated and for now stitch him up; we don’t want him bleeding to death,” Boudicea said. “But first I want you to meet your team.”

  “My team?” Dr Kemp said nervously looking at Jason’s blood-covered body. Luke sniffed the air, the scent of fresh blood. He lifted himself up on his back legs and licked Jason’s fresh wound.

  “Down Luke you can eat him later,” Boudicea laughed she walked to the door and opened it. “Yes I have some nurses and a doctor to help you. They are not skilled in plastic surgery but have performed routine surgical operations before.” They walked outside leaving Jason alone.

  He gasped and let out a quiet groan. He lifted his head. More blood oozed out of his cut as his stomach muscles contracted. The scalpel was lying on his stomach just below his navel. He shook his body to the right forcing it to slide down to his wrist that was strapped to the bed.

  He could bend his wrist back enough to clasp the scalpel with his fingers. In a swift move he cut through the leather restraint. He could hear voices outside; he had just seconds to free himself. Using the scalpel he cut through the bottom of each restraint on his ankles and other wrist. Not fully through but enough that a sharp tug would break it. He placed the scalpel back on his stomach and placed his right wrist back in the restraint.

  Chapter Nineteen

  He heard the door open followed by footsteps, three maybe four people approaching. Mustering every scrap of control he possessed, Jason closed his eyes to slits and feigned unconsciousness.

  “Why is he bleeding?” A woman asked with a strong German accent.

  “Pass me some iodine and swabs; I need to stitch him up,” Dr Kemp said ignoring the question.

  Jason felt someone’s fingers examining his face, gently stroking his chin. “What is he thirteen, fourteen?” A male voice with a Middle Eastern accent said.

  “Thirteen, so his facial hair follicle growth is a few years away from developing. I think once I have completed the transplant Boudicea will not have to worry about shaving in the future. It would only develop with male testosterone,” Dr. Kemp said.

  “Shame he’s a handsome boy,” the German woman observed.

  Dr. Kemp cleaned Jason’s cut on his stomach. Jason was desperate to yell in pain as his body started to tremble.

  “Why use a local anesthetic if he’s been anesthetized?” The Middle Eastern man asked.

  “He was given a mild dose. I don’t want him to feel any pain if he wakes up,” Dr. Kemp said.

  Jason felt a sharp prick near his cut and another. Almost immediately the pain from his cut subsided. He guessed that Dr. Kemp knew he was conscious and didn’t want to hurt him.

  For the next ten minutes Dr. Kemp gently stitched Jason’s wound. Jason lay back trying to come up with an escape plan. He gathered that the Middle Eastern man was a doctor from Iran and the woman a local nurse. Both the doctor and nurse questioned Dr. Kemp and seemed puzzled why he would take such care over Jason’s wound.

  The nurse suggested a few stitches would be enough to stitch him up. Dr Kemp dismissed their views and said that whenever he stitched a patient up he did it with the best of his surgical abilities. Jason knew he was doing it for his benefit.

  When they had finished Dr. Kemp went over the procedure with them. He explained in great detail the different nerves he would have to attach for tomorrow’s operation and guessed it would take at least twelve hours. He suggested they retire for the night and be ready for a long day in the morning. When they left Dr. Kemp touched Jason’s shoulder.

  “I take it you’re awake Jason?” Dr Kemp said.

  Jason opened his eyes and cursed. “That really hurt.”

  “Any pain now?” Dr Kemp asked.

  “No. But I don’t know if I should thank you or hit you for not putting me out,” Jason said.

  “I’m sorry Jason and to be quite honest I still don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.”

  “I need to know, what do these EMP bombs do?” Jason quizzed.

  “EMP stands for Electromagnetic Pulse. Apparently they will load them on two aircrafts; one will fly over the United States and the other Europe, London to be precise. They will be dropped and exploded in midair. The pulse will knock out every electronic device for thousands miles.” Dr Kemp said.

  “Like radios, TV and lights?” Jason asked.

  “Far more than that. Every car, refrigerator, freezer, truck, aircraft and basically anything you plug in. Even heart pacemakers will stop. Newborn babies in incubators, hospitals with people on life support. Food in supermarket freezers will rot. Stoplights will stop working but most importantly all military defense systems will shut down,” Dr. Kemp said.

  Jason sat up and grimaced in pain. “We have to stop it.”

  “You’re hardly in a position to do anything Jason. As it is I need to come up with a reason why I don’t operate on you tomorrow.”

  “The reason is simple
; we won’t be sticking around.”

  “You will be guarded tonight. Boudicea won’t take any chances with you.” Dr Kemp stiffened. He started to walk away but stopped abruptly and looking at the boy strapped to the bed said, “I have no idea what you’re capable of Jason. Dr. Turner speaks highly of you and no doubt Boudicea respects your talents. Just be careful and good luck.”

  Dr. Kemp left Jason alone and a few seconds later the door reopened and Jason heard footsteps coming towards him. He once again feigned unconsciousness.

  He could hear someone get close to the bed and sensed the person’s eyes burning into him. A rough hand clasped Jason’s shoulder and shook him. Jason lay completely still as he heard the person move away. A moment later he heard a chair scrape and a deep sigh as the person sat down. Jason guessed it was a man, the guard Dr. Kemp had mentioned.

  Jason peeked through slits trying to keep his eyes closed. A man in a grey uniform sat in the chair. Jason concentrated on what he could hear. He even held his breath. He could hear the man breathing and getting comfortable in the chair. Jason lay still, listening, breathing shallowly.

  His biggest concern was had he cut through the restraints enough to break them and get free? It would have to be a swift move to tackle the man before he raised the alarm.

  His mind went back to what Dr. Kemp had told him about the EMP. Cars, trucks, not working, hundreds of cities without power. Farmers unable to plant or harvest crops, any food that wasn’t canned would perish without a fridge or freezer. A country the size of the United States without any defense system.

  Jason frowned. Boudicea didn’t care about the average person going to work and trying to make a living or the elderly who relied on electricity for heating. Boudicea was mean and short minded. Her evil had no boundaries since she blackmailed Dr Kemp and threatened to kill his entire family unless he gave her a partial face transplant.

  It angered him. The thought of his own skin being taken wasn’t as much an incentive as the thought of regular people being harmed. This angered Jason more than anything else she had planned. He felt his temper rising; rather than trying to relax Jason concentrated harder. Wong Tong was brutally killed trying to defend him, so someone would pay dearly for that.

  Jason’s eyes welled up. He concentrated harder forcing adrenaline into his system. His eyelids rapidly flickered, every muscle fiber in his body started to contract. It was time to get help and stop Boudicea.

  He swiftly rolled to his left towards where the man sat, kicking his right leg. The restraint gave way, using the momentum from his turn Jason threw himself to his left side, all the restraints snapping free from the deep cuts he had made. He was free and falling towards the ground.

  Landing on his feet Jason threw his right foot towards the guard’s chin. The poor man had barely time to look up before Jason’s foot slammed into his chin fracturing it in three places. The guard was thrown back over the chair and landed awkwardly on his back.

  He checked the man’s pulse, alive but out cold. After securely tying him up he picked up his gun and ran towards the door. He promptly stopped and looked down at himself. He was wearing just his boxers. The only clothing that would fit him would be his blood-stained karate gi. It would have to do, as he tried blocking the image of Wong Tong getting hurt out of his mind.

  Dressed in his gi and barefoot Jason headed for the door. He cracked it open and was stunned by what he saw.

  He was standing on a walkway suspended fifty foot in the air. The walkway led to offices to the left. Jason could only describe it as a vast dome. The building was an abandoned German airship hangar as Dr. Kemp previously mentioned. Massive steel girders in the shape of a spider formed the dome. Glass between the steel structure gave evidence that it was night outside.

  Two German Messerschmitt Me 264 World War Two bombers stood in the center. The bomb carrying planes were two of just three built towards the end of World War Two. They were designed specifically to fly to the United States and drop their payload of bombs on New York City.

  Fortunately the war ended before they would get used. Boudicea had purchased two of them and under a false name she had permission to fly one to London and one to New York. Permission was granted for them to fly at an air show. After the air shows they would be placed in aviation museums in London and New York.

  Boudicea had alternative plans. Each plane would carry a massive EMP and once over London and New York, each plane would drop its payload. The EMP would explode in midair and wipe out two of the world’s largest and most populated cities power. It would also knock out the defense systems of both countries and ground any aircraft within a twenty-five-mile radius.

  He noticed a team of engineers in white coats working on two large bombs next to both of the aircrafts. The bombs were both the size of a large family car.

  Slowly he crept along the walkway and climbed down a flight of stairs. Someone was coming. He darted in a room and gently closed the door behind him. He was in what appeared to be another laboratory. He could voices. Boadicea’s voice. Jason padded quietly further into the laboratory and ducked down behind a desk.

  Boudicea was talking to a man in a white coat. He was showing her something that resembled a can of coke. There were six similar cans on a table. Jason crept under some desks so he could hear what they were saying.

  “You’re boring me with science, Professor Hermann. Show me how it works,” Boudicea ordered, abruptly tapping the toe of her high- heeled boot on the ground. Jason could just peek and see them.

  The man she called Professor Hermann spoke back in English but with a German accent. He nodded at his assistant who started a motorcycle and let it tick over. The assistant walked towards a TV and flicked it on and lastly turned on a radio. Professor Hermann nodded and picked up another can from under a bench and held it up.

  “You know what this is?” He asked and before waiting for an answer he passed it to his assistant. The assistant was in his early twenties with large black rimmed glasses and greasy black hair. His face looked so pale Jason thought he looked like a marble statue.

  The assistant pulled the ring of the can. It gave a familiar sounding popping sound followed by the hiss. He raised it to his lips and drank a few mouthfuls and smiled before placing the can on the table.

  The Professor passed the assistant the can he was holding.

  “Now Boudicea if my calculations are correct, and let’s face it they always are. When he opens this can it will have the same effect as our EMP bombs but on a much smaller scale of course.”

  Boudicea coughed. The motorcycle was spurting out exhaust fumes.

  After a nod from Hermann the assistant pulled the ring on the can. The sound was nothing more than a click, then silence. The room went dark. Professor Hermann and his assistant both struck matches and lit candles they had previously arranged.

  “As you can see Boudicea, the EMP knocked out the combustion engine on the motorcycle, the TV, radio and our lights. Inside each can is an exact copy of the EMP, albeit on a much smaller scale.” The professor smiled.

  Boudicea picked up one of the cans and smiled. “Just imagine what these will do to security systems and alarms. And we will be ready to launch tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes Boudicea,” Professor Hermann nodded and stared at her like a dog waiting for a pat on the head.

  “I have surgery scheduled first thing. I hope to be able to watch the launch tomorrow, although it will probably be from my recovery bed.” Boudicea said.

  “Ah yes Boudicea, I heard you had found a suitable donor. I hope it all goes well for you.”

  “And for your sake Professor Hermann I hope it all goes well for you.” Boudicea gave a grin, but only half her face moved. The other side still looked a burnt mess, like the skin of an octopus. “I have other investors. Very high up investors that are expecting no failures. Make sure it goes as planned,” she turned and walked away, letting the door slam behind her.

 
Jason stayed hidden under the table and waited. Professor Hermann and his assistant spoke softly before they left together. The light from the corridor lit up the room briefly as the door was opened.

  When it was clear he came out from his place of hiding and examined the cans of Coke. Five cans looked the same as any Coke can but felt heavier and the cans gave a little as he squeezed them, clearly not full of carbonated beverages. He found a box stacked of cans these where full and hard to squeeze. Jason pulled the ring and smiled as his popped and gave the hiss. Voraciously he guzzled back its contents before giving a small burp.

  He took a can that contained a small EMP and placed a normal can of Coke in its place. He hid the can under his gi jacket and tightened his belt to hold it.

  Just as he placed his hand on the door handle to open the door it opened. Jason wasn’t sure who was more shocked, him or Professor Hermann’s assistant.

  “Oh. Um. I’m lost. I’m looking for Boudicea or Dr. Kemp,” Jason stuttered.

  “Who are you? And what are you doing in here?” The assistant asked.

  “I’m Jason. I’m donating my face for Boudicea,” Jason said calmly. “Now what way did you say she went?”

  Using his middle finger the assistant pushed his glasses back up his nose. “She has retired for the night. Why are you in here and your clothing? Is that blood?”

  “I told you I’m looking for...” Jason was interrupted before he could finish.

  “Yes I heard, but something seems weird about this. Come with me.” The assistant said before making a huge mistake. He tried to grab Jason by his arm.

  Jason’s reaction was so fast, but to the assistant it was like a blur. He caught the assistant’s hand, pulled him into the laboratory, bent it over and threw him on the ground. With his right hand Jason dug his fingers into the man’s neck and squeezed his carotid artery. A few seconds later and he was unconscious.

  After using almost a full roll of duct tape to secure and gag the assistant in a closet, Jason went back out onto the corridor.