John Ferguson :- Time Out
John Ferguson :- Time Out26 mins 21.4K 26 mins 21.4K
See, I used to serve this huge agency of America, by the name of FIB. But FIB has this weird policy of disowning the agents who try and go a little out of the way. And yes, no offence to FIB or the American constitution, but I certainly had a major screw-up done in the last 6 months.
Before I really dig into those months I would like to come to the present. My name is John Ferguson, and I used to be Head of Special Ops in the FIB. What matter the most is that I kept on kicking criminal’s right in their asses, and had a good reputation in and out of the office. Let’s keep it a tad simpler. My reputation came back, and stuck it right back in my ass.
Well, just two years back, I came up close with a dangerous terrorist. I could and should have killed him, but I hesitated and arrested him rather. It came back to haunt me as the same guy after an year, got himself released out of jail (hope you know what I mean) and started terrorizing the world.
Well, now that I had hesitated to kill him, he indeed wanted the world to know about it. The world came to know that I was the guy, and they started giving me a hard time about it. I was suspended for a year or so, and was finally recalled to do some community stuff. Not to make anyone uncomfortable I used to say, that I wasn’t a good officer or something.
Now, to come back to where I was, we need to go to the Sydney International Airport.
“Shots fired, Shots fired, Mayday we need reinforcements, copy, we need reinforcements”
There were 308 passengers on board. This was a bit of trouble for everyone who was in and out of the airport. This could mean a terrorist invasion, or anything. People knew less, cause’ the next thing, there was a mad FIB veteran running around, trying to kill those goons.
Now you may be thinking, why did I drag myself into all this, but I must say, whenever I see a gun up close to me, I certainly lose track of time and space. And as soon as that little cop was shot, I picked up the gun and started shooting the terrorists.
Minutes later, and two little (ahem, ahem) wounds later, I was there, in the middle of all the havoc.
The people weren’t loudmouths I guess, cause’ they didn’t say a single thing when the cops arrived (so much on time) they assumed for me to be the terrorist, and put me under those handcuffs.
And, as usual, I was sitting in a cop car, with cuffs in my hands.
“Sir, do you even realize, what you’ve done? Numerous shots fired, kept as an undercover terrorist, and 14kills. You call yourself an FIB agent, I am not able to understand, if to send you in jail or to a psychiatrist.” The police officer (in such good mood) said to me, even as I wasn’t paying attention to his heartwarming words.
After keeping yourself in danger for 3-4 hours and at the end, saving 300-500 lives, all I got as a reward was the stuck up food and world class service of a police station. See, that’s why I was actually happy when they suspended me last time. I was actually done with this bulshit. But being the fool I am, I had to drag myself back into this all over again.
They had started to ask me questions in the morning, I had happily obliged, only for the matter of the fact, that they were doing their job. But nine-and half-hours later, I was damn exhausted. And I wanted to simply tell them to stuff it. There’s only so much a man can take.
But, then they allotted one of their five-star rooms to me, and with their quality service, I was having constipation and food poisoning in two days.
Well, because there isn’t anything to do, I’m just going to narrate this whole tale to you. Why I was present there and why was I suspended, and what is going to go ahead. Cause’ I’m already sitting at home, in front of my typewriter.
My name is John Ferguson. I am not married, and I am in a committed relationship with my live-in partner, and soon to be wife Natalie Romans. I am captain of the Special Ops in the FIB, and I make a huge amount of money. I am thirty-nine years old and I am expecting my first child with Natalie.
But, while killing criminals I realized, that I was giving birth to new enemies (not literally). I conquered many enemies in Bangladesh, and then countless of them in Iraq. Many people were left stunned and bloodied after I was done with my interrogations and work.
To make long matters short, I had started to work in the Army, and then after quick promotions, made it to the FIB. And in the process, some made it to jail, while the others made it to paradise.
“Mr. Ferguson, you may go in.”
I sat there, wondering, if I should go in first, or call and tell Natalie about it. I decided upon the former, assuming that a nervous boyfriend won’t be a good start for a FIB post. I entered the room, and saw three elderly people. They all seemed into their sixties, waiting for just the right person, to come and tell them, “Bozos, just shut up and retire.”
But, I did not use those wonderful words for them, and concentrated onto my interview. I had promised Natalie I would be back with a payday. I answered all those questions nervously, and the end, they asked me to leave the room. For a moment, I wondered if Natalie would kick me out of the house for not keeping my promise. (She had kicked me out for a promise two years ago)
After ten minutes, the bozos (sorry, my bosses) called me back in again, and asked me to sign a paper. Firstly, I read the paper. Secondly, I almost jumped two feet in the air after I read the last line.
“The below candidate will be receiving an annual pay of USD1, 40,000 and will be entering the training program for Special Ops.”
I signed the agreement of discussion. I was asked to join in, after fifteen days. I went home and Natalie was very happy. We had a happy dinner, and Natalie finally got her act together, and proposed marriage to me. I happily agreed, and we decided to move in together, and get married after a year.
I joined the FIB after the fifteen days. It seemed a kick-ass job, but I completely forgot that this is seemingly the best agency in America. And that keeps it for a fact, that the job is insanely tough. You need to monitor everything that your group does. And if you can’t do that, you are welcome to leave the group and the job.
Whatever I used to do, I always had something and someone screaming over my ass. I worked hard, and finally earned a promotion to move up to Special Ops Commander.
(First of all, this may seem to be a very good position by name, but it has nothing to do. It really seems to be very exciting, but it really proves that this is a very stuck-up job. We really need to wait for a country to come and screw with ours, so that we go underground and screw with theirs.)
Weeks later, I received a call.
“Whatever you do Ferguson. I want the Iraqi President in our feet. They have killed forty-nine soldiers in Baghdad. I want revenge, Period.”
“Potts, Marcus, I want you both on the left door, covering the president’s left and right exits.”
We were dressed up as the Iraqi President’s bodyguards. This was supposed to be an easy hit-and-run. But as usual, I was the one who had to go and screw the job up. We were all, looking at each other. There were four of us in the team. (Don’t ask, the FIB has more connections than the American President.)
We were waiting for just the right moment, when all the guards and people with the president left, and we could finish business. We kept moving towards the presidential suite, in Baghdad. As soon as the other legit soldiers had left, we were all into our position. Potts and Marcus were covering the left and right exits. It was just me and David, who were standing near the president’s desk.
Suddenly, someone started banging on the door.
Potts turned to open the door. Suddenly, four mercenaries stepped in, and started shooting blindly. Needless to say, Potts and David were killed, being the first people to face the bullets. David and I dived behind a table, and so did the Iraqi President.
The mercenaries moved away after this madness, and I and David just had the Iraqi president in front of us, breathing a sigh of relief. Little did he know, that he wouldn’t be breathing after we were both done with him! I turned around, took my knife out, and lurched towards him. Suddenly my hand was taken aback. David held to my bloodied finger. He was using a blade and trying to pierce through my hand.
I took my hand back, and punched him right in his face.
Then, our partnership was completely screwed, we were supposed to be the captains of this mission, but here we were, completely bloodying each other’s faces. We were both fist-fighting. After fifteen minutes, David was down and out.
I turned around, picked the gun up, and shot the president twice. Then I turned to David and pointed my gun towards him. He was shouting, “shoot me! Shoot me!” I looked at my watch. It was about time, I had to leave or I would miss my plane back to the USA.
I left David there, and I wasn’t going to tell the agency about our little showdown. I still didn’t understand why David had done what he did.
I made it back to the Agency, and explained that David and all the other partners had died. They were a bit sad, but they were happy for the other fact as well, that we had managed to complete the mission.
After our brilliant performance in Baghdad, the world was shocked. We had managed to go and assassinate the president of a huge country. The world was shocked. The Iraqis called for a summit in the UNO offices. They wanted the world to know what we had done.
The American president was told about this, and he asked me to accompany to the UN meet. I thought all of the people are going to praise me; I very well may accompany the president. So I agreed.
We were just hustling into the conference room, when all the other presidents were waiting patiently for us to arrive, and as soon as we did, they all welcomed us with a sheer applause.
It seemed like a glorious moment.
The assembly began; all the countries’ delegates were presenting their opening speeches, when suddenly Iraq’s ambassador said that he had a message from their government back home. We all agreed, and asked him to showcase the video-clip that he had received. He walked to the podium, and took out his phone. He opened the message, and the whole UN office was shocked.
It contained a picture of the president in a hospital, recovering from his injuries.
The whole UN assembly was shocked. They had considered that the US had killed the Iraqi president, but now that he was alive, people were wondering if this was just a big bad lie that US had stitched for publicity.
The crowd burst into murmurs, it all just happened in quite a helluva moment. But, in the entire crowd that was sitting in the UN, the president leaned over close to my ear.
”Hope you have a great explanation for all this. Mr. Ferguson.”
The rest of the Assembly was kind of a blur. I couldn’t imagine that David had somehow managed to survive himself, and then help the president as well. But everyone else had understood as well, they were all laughing at USA’s expense.
We hopped onto the plane back to our own country. The president did not say a word to me; he had saved the best for the end of the trip. As soon as we got off the plane, he handed me a no-discussion slip, and asked me to move away to Australia.
I went home, and the next day, got on to my plane for going down under. Little did I know that another chapter had already begun in my life!
“The temperature outside is 114 Fahrenheit and 44 Celsius. Please consider taking your coats off. Welcome to Australia!”
She had a pleasant voice. And all the passengers were also quite pleasant to be touring or migrating to this brilliant and beautiful country. I wasn’t. For, I was serving a suspension period of fourteen years here, and I didn’t know when or if I would ever be back to my own group.
I was transferred to the Special Ops in Australia, a country, who rarely takes part in covert missions, and here, this job means, eating doughnuts and growing fat. I wasn’t this type. As soon as I entered, they all moved their greasy and sloppy asses to get up and salute me. I felt like a child who was being awarded just because he ran in the race. (Sarcasm, ahem, ahem)
I sat and decided to have a look at the dusty files that were lying over in the cupboards behind my desk. But they were actually so many of them in there that I decided to drop the plan and call my better half.
“Hello, is it Ms. Natalie Romans speaking?”
“Fuck off. How is it going? I find this country too stuck-up to be beautiful. What about you? How’s office?”
“It’s good. How’s my little one doing? Hope everything is fine. Dude this office…. So boring man! Do you know, they did their last covert operation in 1997?”
“Who told you to leave the president out there in the open? Now face it. We’re both stuck here for 14 years!! OK, will call you back, I think there is somebody on the door. Love you!”
“Love you too. Miss You!”
And with that, I was done with my call. What would I do without my woman in my life? I decided to keep working and trying to find something hat interesting hat would earn me a comeback to the NY headquarters.
It was 5:38 PM. I decided to call it a day, and move back to Natalie. I took exactly 12 minutes to reach home. I remember the time exactly, because this is one of the biggest turning points in my life and story.
At 5:50, I entered my house. And as soon as I entered, I wished I had never come home.
I saw, Natalie sprawled onto the floor, with a butter knife. She was stabbed all over her body, and she seemed more like an off-head hen, rather than my lovely wife. The telephone rang.
I picked up the phone. It seemed to be dead, but suddenly loud laughter filled up the receiver.
“Come on. David Anderson, you fucking bitch, say it, say your name and place. You’ve just invited death to a fucking night with you. Say it, Asshole!!”
I actually had started to shout at the receiver. And then, it was nothing, but just the name of the place.”
“Come to Mariana Beach, on 9 PM Tomorrow.”
And the receiver went dead. I had hot angry tears in my eyes. I completely went ballistic, and started crying. I picked up the phone again, and dialed Special Ops in NY.
“Hello, is it Sunny?”
“Yes. but I don’t sweat before dialing.”
And BAM! I was re-directed to Julian Gibbs, the person who was now Special Ops Commander.
“Julian, my wife has been killed. I need two officers in Australia by tomorrow. ASAP.”
“Hey, hold it there. This is not some retail store, I need verification . Who are you?”
“Hawk Shooter. John Ferguson is my name; this is a personal request, send in some troops.”
“I can’t, and I’m not supposed to be talking with you, so I’m going to have to hang up.”
And that was the end of my try to get some troops out of there. But now the issue was that I was alone, and David may be having an entire fleet of soldiers with him. But I wasn’t scared.
I went to my closet. I took out the de-assembled M4 Carbine Rifle and assembled it within the next hour. I also packed up some gear for my visit to the Anderson Café.
THE NEXT DAY
It was about time. I picked up my gun, plopped it unto my camouflage jacket and started driving towards the Mariana Beach.
I could see, two choppers were following my car from my house towards the beach.
I saw the beach, took off my shoes and socks and started moving towards the rocks placed to sit.
The air gently brushed through my hair. The sea breezes reminded me of Natalie. We used to love to come here for night walks, or Sunday fun. But here I was, sitting here, to kill the man that had already made my life a living hell.
Suddenly, I felt a gentle tap on my neck; I saw that it was a girl. She seemed beautiful, but I wasn’t here to admire beauty. Suddenly, she gently pushed my shoulders back, and started climbing over my abdomen. I could feel she was trying me on for something.
She suddenly pushed her lips towards mine. Our lips connected and I could feel that I was committing sin. But I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, my head started going round in circles, and I fell unconscious. She had applied poison ivy on her lips, and while kissing each other, the ivy on her lips mixed with the saliva on my tongue, resulting in me losing my consciousness.
45 MINUTES LATER
I opened my eyes. I could see, that it was the same girl who kissed me on the beach, but only this time, she was holding a 9MM pistol in her hand posted to guard me. I was trying to get up, though my hands and legs were tied on to a table.
Suddenly, there were two taps on the door, and it was opened for a man in a tuxedo. For a second I didn’t recognize for him to be David Anderson. But when he pointed the 9MM towards my forehead, I understood it all. “Well well, how are you? We have met after a lot of time, haven’t we? Chief?”
I turned my face away from his. He took it as my consent and continued.”Well, Mrs. Ferguson was practically magic. I tried her on, and I must admit, she was magic to me in bed.”
Now that was it, the chain and the table shook maniacally, the girl understood, and quickly pointed her gun towards me. David understood, he had said something pretty screwed, and with an evil grin, he walked away and out of the room.
A soon as David walked away and out of the room, the girl did a quick look-over, and went to the back of table, and shot my chains. The chains broke in half, resulting in me being set free.
The girl said, “Well, the past year hasn’t been wonderful for me, he has used my body so many times that I don’t even remember. I know you have the capability to finish that guy off. Please finish him off sir, and I’m sorry for kissing you on the lips at the beach, but it was just part of the plan.”
With that, the girl took her gun out, and shot herself. I was pretty shocked and emotional. But then, I wanted to fulfill her last wish. And I wanted to. This was going to end. Right here, right now.
I picked her gun up and the keys for the room. She was dead, that was sure. I placed a black cloth over her face, and tied her body to the table. If someone looked in from outside, it would seem, that I was still tied onto the table. I quietly picked her gun up, and tiptoed out of the room.
I had the gun completely trained up, ready to shoot. I moved along corridors, tiptoeing and moving quickly along the hallways. Suddenly, I was stuck behind an ample small wall, and there were two guards in front of it. It was pretty clear, if I did not kill or silence them both then it was practically impossible to move out and ahead. They were both talking about something.
“Is the boss leaving?” said the first guard.
“Yeah, he’s by the helipad. He’ll be gone in half an hour. Take the crate of beer out,” Said the second guard.
I whistled. The guards turned around, the first one told the other to go to the end of the corridor, and check. The other one went, and I got up and took the guard out. And while the other one could have checked, I had already killed them both. I took their clothes, and hid their bodies.
I wore black sunglasses to hide my eyes from the other ones. They were the only give-aways in my outlook. I started walking like a guard, carrying the machine gun in my hand.
I kept the silent mode on, and kept moving, soon, I was in the terrace.
David was just climbing on to the helicopter, they were preparing to leave. I started running towards the chopper and started to shoot.
David was completely taken aback, by my presence on his Helipad, I shot some more bullets. Then my eyes came across to those of the Iraqi President. I straightened my shoulders, and just as I was about to take a shot, David shot my left shoulder.
I still managed to fire the bullet, and the bullet went and took out the pilot, the chopper was already in mid air, and it started to become unsteady. The chopper was falling aback.
David rushed to the pilot’s seat, and took the space. He started to fly the chopper away. I could see, that this was my last chance. My left shoulder was bleeding manically. I decided to take the risk, and ran towards the chopper.
I fired my one last bullet onto the chopper, and ran towards it. The chopper became unsteady due to my shot, and then with one giant leap into the air, I managed to get both my hands on the undercarriage. I pulled myself up.
As soon as I got up onto the plane, I noticed the Iraqi president had worried expressions. He could sense his future. I took out a combat knife from the armor that I was wearing, and with a few clean strokes, wiped his heart of his sleeve.
The Iraqi president was dead. My old vengeance was finished. Though I could hear squawks coming from his radio receiver, he must have radioed back to the base about our showdown.
David couldn’t leave his seat, even though I would have loved it had he done that. David had to fly, but still, his fucked – up sarcasm wasn’t done.
“Nice skills, Chief. You have the opportunity to finish this right now. Let’s end this, kill me and finish this chapter. But before you do, let me remind you of something.” He said, and gestured towards the radio. I picked it up, and it was Julian’s voice.
“Hawk. Move out of there, you cannot kill Mr. Anderson. He’s a secret spy and he knows too much about the Iraqi government. If you do, then you must see that a car is following you from the building. We’ll kill you as soon as you step out of the Chopper.”
”But…” and the phone went dead. Now I had two choices, either to kill him in the chopper, or take the single parachute and jump. I was forced to choose upon the latter. I wore the parachute.
“David, this doesn’t end here, we’ll meet again. I promise. “
He turned around and saluted me. I saluted back, picked up my gun, and shot the tank of the chopper. David’s expression was unthinkable. He completely got shocked, but then regained his composure, and smiled. “Nice one, Chief.”
“Don’t mention it.” And I jumped out of the chopper. The air started rushing me towards itself. And then I saw, Julian and his gang were shooting bullets at me. And my left shoulder was already bleeding.
I tried to elevate the parachute away from this muck, and that’s when, one clean shot pierced the insides of my parachute. The air started blowing me apart like a tissue.
The air was moving very quickly, I took off the armor that I was wearing, and even threw my guns away; I had to be as light as possible. I could see a lake nearby, and I had to fall inside it to survive. The air kept moving me, and I elevated my body towards the lake.
I came face to face with death. I knew I could be dead in a matter of minutes. But I think it was God’s wish. I prayed, and prayed, for god to save me. And then the air suddenly stopped. I started falling towards the lake. I could feel the water even before I touched it. The water pulled me in.
I fell in the water. The blood wounds came to life again. They stung like crazy. I couldn’t feel my blood for a second. Then the lack of oxygen made me realize, that I had to start swimming. I started to swim out of water. And finally my head emerged out of the water. I gasped for breath.
There wasn’t anybody there. I dragged my body out of the water with some help. The blood on my left shoulder made me realize, that I wasn’t gonna be here on earth for long. But as of then, I closed my eyes. I needed my rest. I had already taken my brush of mortality for today.
I closed my eyes and waited to die. The shoulder blood had already overflowed, and I was already feeling weak. My eyes went down. The eyeballs rolled up.
EIGHT HOURS LATER
I opened my eyes, and first of all I thought that I was in heaven. Then I saw the glucose drip and understood it all. Some more blood was being prepared inside me to keep me alive.
I pressed those bells they give you in hospitals. A nurse came in. She handed me some pills and a glass of water. I drank the water, which seemed a bit mouldy, or I think it was just my over imagination. I got up.
I went to the reception. I asked them for a phone. The girl handed me a landline, and dialed the number. A female voice picked up.
“Diana, is Mr. Anderson with you?”
“Yes. What’s your point of concern?”
“It’s just, that there’s a bomb implanted there at your home, and they’re gonna blast it soon.”
And I wasn’t connected to the David Café. The female kept the phone back completely, and there wasn’t any chance, that I would get connected to David Anderson again.
I started walking back to my room. My hopes of finding and killing Mr. Anderson were completely finished as of now. I kept walking until I reached my room.
Something propelled me to take a few steps backwards. I came to the next room. I saw that there was a man lying in there. For a moment I was absolutely taken aback. It was David Anderson.
I went in, and pretended I was lost. I picked up the closest knife, and stabbed David’s first guard. Before the second one could have pulled his gun out, I sent the knife flying to his heart and that was the end for him as well. David’s eyes opened, and my knife was poised right above his eyes.
“What a coincidence my friend? We’re gonna end your life in a hospital. Now you can’t even hold onto Julian for helping you survive. I am going to kill you. You should’ve never messed with Natalie.”
As I finished my sentence, a gun started stroking the back of my hair.
“Please move away Ferguson.”
“I had already told you, we’re gonna kill you if you mess with Mr. Anderson.”
Julian Gibbs. For a moment I was indeed impressed, he managed to save David out of this one as well. I turned around and put my hands in the air.
He asked me to hand my knife over. As we exchanged weapons. Two cops passed by. One look at our situation must have told them, that this wasn’t an average doctor’s stroll to the patient.
They posed their guns towards us. In Australia, The cops shoot first and asked questions later. They posed to take the perfect shot. Julian knew what to do. I didn’t.
I picked up the knife and slashed Julian’s throat. There were too many killings happening in this hospital. Them I threw my knife towards the cop, and killed one of them. Before the other one could react I picked up Julian’s gun, and shot the other cop. Both the cops were dead.
As soon as I turned around, I saw a broken window, and a running David Anderson. I jumped out of the window and started running after him. We were both injured, and David was quite slow compared to me.
I ran faster. I was quite close, and I stopped to take my shot. Suddenly, a car came and stopped, and David sat inside it. I changed my aim, and took a clean shot.
The bullet pierced the petrol opening. The friction caused the car to burst in a huge inferno. I went up to the burning inferno, and took my gun out. I fired the remaining five shots onto David’s skull.
David was already bloodied. The five shots finally finished him off for good.
I fell down to the ground.
FIB –AUS’s chopper came above my head. They sent a harness to pull me up. And, they booked me a ticket to travel back to New York.
I came home. And with teary eyes, I packed all the photos me and Natalie had clicked over the years till now. The little baby couldn’t come to life. My dreams couldn’t come to life. All of them died.
“115 Fahrenheit. 45 Celsius.”
I was at the Sydney International Airport. And I was a normal passenger waiting for my chance to get back to what I really am. I am John Ferguson. Commander of the Special Ops in the FBI.
As I put my luggage to get into entry check, I started whistling. That was what I would always do when I didn’t have anything to do. But, as fate would usually do, it had other plans for me.
Three Mercenaries from the Iraqi Army entered and they were all in officials. For a moment, you couldn’t recognize them and make a wrong move. I saw their faces and remembered that they were the same guards who were with the Iraqi President.
I merged into the huge crowd at the Sydney International Airport. For a moment they walked right past me. But as usual, fate played is role, and one of the guards saw me. He fired a shot, but fortunately it hit some other tourist, and I managed to start running.
All the other three guards ran after me. They were firing numerous shots. I kept running quickly, to dodge and to make way for my life. I sneaked behind some luggage.
Two cops took their guns out. They took aim and started to shoot their bullets. The guards managed to duck pretty fast and shot one of the cops. His gun flew quickly, and it landed right in front of me. I managed to reload the gun quickly. I pulled some heavy baggage in front of me, and then, in three quick shots, I had all the three guards’ dead.
The temperature around me aroused very quickly. People started to run. There was a stampede all over the Airport. Officials started to run in, looking for the culprit. I had the gun in my hands. Waiting for them to come, they took one clean shot.
They weren’t any officials, they were mercenaries. They took one shot, for they knew, that they won’t be able to take a second shot. They took a shot, and someone pulled them away. The shot got manipulated, and someone else got shot instead of me.
I started running out of the Airport with the gun in my hands. The Police, who were waiting outside, saw the gun in my hands, and they put two and two together.
They put handcuffs around my hands, and plopped me inside their car.
I sat in. the car started moving. I looked out with a smile.
I knew, how and when to escape.