Jonathan phone chimed.
He picked it up and checked. He had gotten a text from Martha, on their meeting point and what to prepare for. He checked his wrist watch and noted that he should be out in 2hours. Attending to the person seated before him seemed rushed, as he was now focused on something else.
'How he was going to perform his first murder'.
Jonathan Lace had been a decent citizen with no legal issues all his life. He lived a simple and upright man, not until he bought a used car from Sergeant Chase. He probably didn't know what fate had for him that day. Sergeant Chase had come to meet him at his office for a not so lucrative deal. Because he had a previous dealings with Chase, he didn't ponder much before accepting the next deal.
He was told to just drive to Cape Town High School at a particular set time, wear a hoodie and drive back after 30 minutes. He asked why, but Chase said it was for a private ride. After the incident, Chase called and told Jonathan that he had cancelled the ride. So Jonathan had to leave the premise.
Little did he know he was been involved in a more complicated plot. The initial course was to use Jonathan as a diversion. Even if he was to be investigated, no substantial evidence would be used to prove he was the culprit. Been present at a crime scene is not enough evidence of a crime. The forensic report wasn't part of the plan.
After the call from Detective Nolwazi about the hair and fingerprints been found at the crime scene, Sergeant Chase was taken aback about the possibility of that. That was why he sent the samples to his girlfriend, Martha to check those samples.
Martha was stunned to have found out that the samples were for Chase. She had thought his hair and fingerprints were there due to carelessness. But she didn't expect a Sergeant to be that careless. So she decided to falsify the reports first, and tell Chase later about it or maybe question him.
Martha till now didn't know how the original report got out. And she hadn't been able to call to Chase to ask, talk or inform him. He was already arrested before she could.
Chase had thought and cried. He felt he was been betrayed, by his girlfriend? Because she was the only one who knew about the attempt to kill Rodrygo. Mr Jonathan wasn't even aware of the murder until the breaking news got out. He just couldn't accept the fact that he was betrayed by Martha. The reason Martha had wanted to kill Rodrygo, even though fuelled by the break up was because she thought he had known too much about her. The organisation she was before she quitted. Knowing he could spill or they could use him to track her, that was why she had to remove him from the picture.
'I thought she loved me'
'She was the one that even sent me to get rid of him'
'Why would she do this to me'?
'How did my hair or fingerprint got there'?
'I was on gloves man! I couldn't be that careless, as a Sergeant'.
He had wondered. 'Could it be Jonathan?' Not at all.
When Jayden, the FBI agent had visited him for a contract killing of Jonathan so that he could use it to implicate Martha, Chase had thought it through and realised it didn't make sense, unless the FBI has Martha herself on their watch list, and for what reason, he couldn't apprehend. But as long as he is freed and Martha is caught, he would comply.
All he could do was wait for the day he would accept his fate, silence his conscience and press the chip on. Killing wasn't his biggest issue. He only had a problem with killing an innocent man again after attempting a previous one. He is a Sergeant, so he had shot a couple of culprit and criminals, yet, he couldn't come to acceptance that he would be killing an innocent man again.
Jonathan couldn't care if the next person coming into his office was registered, legal or got correct credentials. He just wanted to be done with everyone and get moving in 2 hours. His heart beats for every time the seconds hand of the clock ticked.
He knew how to handle a gun, typical for a white man that he was, but he hasn't pulled a trigger before, not ever, so why would he do it now? But if that's all it takes to silence this case and never see Martha again, he had to do it and get it done with.
He couldn't even try to report himself or Martha, because it could be said that he was an accomplice. Ignorance was never an excuse in court. So he had to accept his fate.
45 minutes left, Jonathan stood up restless, excused himself from people waiting outside to get verified so they could use the train. He rushed to the toilet and vomited his stomach contents. He stood there, rested on the lavatory, he took deep breaths to calm himself down, but it wasn't working.
Burbling, Jonathan held onto his stomach and paced his way into the toilet. Watery expulsion of colonic content could be heard as he tried to empty his bowel as much as possible. He was literally having anxiety attacks.
5 minutes to the time fixed, Jonathan came out of the toilet. He looked pale and sick. With wet hair, face and wrinkled hands from over washing. He told the next clerk on shift that he would be leaving soon. He parked his stuff into his bag, picked up his keys and left.
Chase had pressed on the minute chip given to him by Jayden. The prison attendant came and gave him a key, a pivotal tool for his escape, and a satellite phone.
Escaping the prison yard wasn't a bit of challenge, surprising Chase himself. It seemed everyone suddenly got somewhere to be and left their post. It was an easy pass. Even the security dogs weren't barking.
Chase was about the go over the last fence that demarcated the prison yard and the outside world when his pant caught the barbed wire over the fence. This had torn his pant and attracted a security nearby.
Seeing someone trying to go over the fence, the security wanted to raise alarm but was hit at the base of his skull by a jagged knife. The security went down, dead in an instant.
"Hello, I'm outside the prison yard, what next?"
"Okay, good. I'll send someone to pick you up in 3 minutes and your next line of action would be discussed".
The line went off.
Chase stood there, alone, exposed, on prison attire. No where to run, no where to hide. Just him, his thoughts and conscience waiting...