The Operative : A Division 13 Story

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “And it won’t show up on runic scanners,” I said, more to myself than Roxanne. “It has to be how they’re doing it.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Smuggling bodies. If I wanted to get some of this killer drug, where would I get it?”

  “You couldn’t. Cerberin is tightly regulated and controlled.”

  “But let’s say I needed some. Where would I go?”

  “Medical-grade Cerberin would require special authorization, but I’m sure it’s available through less reputable means. Haven has the largest and purest store of Cerberin on the Eastern seaboard.”

  “Which you keep where?”

  “On the morgue level. The entire area utilizes state-of-the- art refrigeration technology and is a magical null zone to prevent accidental runic contamination.”

  “An operation like Tigris wouldn’t go black market on this. They would get the best. Before you ‘kill’ my partner, can you do me a favor?”

  “You mean besides disobeying a direct Division 13 order, helping you fake an operative’s death, and abscond with him?”

  “You’re actually saving his life. I’m pretty sure Tigris considers him a loose end.”

  “What does that make you?”

  “The wrong operative to piss off.”

  “What do you need?”

  “You have this Cerberin securely contained. I just need you to do an inventory check. How long before you bring him down to the morgue?”

  “Death usually follows within three to six hours of ingestion, but I can accelerate the process. This drug has some nasty side effects.”

  “How bad and how long do they last?”

  “Nausea, vomiting, abdominal pain—”

  “That’s it? I’m sure he can deal with it.”

  She stared at me. “I wasn’t done.”

  “Oh, please continue,” I said with a wave of my hand. “My apologies.”

  “Burning sensations in the mouth, diarrhea, headache, dilated pupils, irregular heartbeat, and drowsiness.”

  “Is…that it?”

  “Well, death usually follows, but yes that’s it.”

  “It’ll be good training for him. Can you accelerate his healing? He needs to be mobile and semi-functional.”

  “I can help, but he will have to deal with some of the effects until the Cerberin is out of his system.”

  “Fair enough. How fast can you accelerate this process?”

  “Meet me in the morgue in forty-five minutes.”

  “I’ll be in the garage finding my ride. I need to calibrate the biometrics. Cait, initiate a forty-five-minute countdown.”

  “Acknowledged,” Cait responded with extra huskiness. “Would you like a silent alert?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Roxanne raised an eyebrow. “What voice is that, pornstar purr?”

  “Someone in the tech department thought combat AIs should sound this way, along with an extra dose of sarcasm to give the illusion of realism. When I find out who had that bright idea, I’m introducing them to the reality of my fist.”

  Roxanne pressed her hand on the panel next to the elevator doors, causing them to open. Stepping inside, she pressed certain parts of the buttonless panel and allowed herself to be scanned again.

  “Do you remember the location of the morgue?”

  “Adjacent to the garage level?”

  She nodded. “I’m sending it down to the garage. Secure your vehicle and then head to the morgue. Do not engage any of the personnel.”

  “Who am I going to engage? I’m not even here.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Forty-five. Don’t make me regret this, Ronin.”

  I stepped into the elevator. “See you in forty-five,” I said as the doors closed.

  TWENTY-TWO

  SUNATRAN VEHICLES WERE not known for their ability to blend in to their surroundings. I didn’t know why Cecil picked American muscle cars but I always appreciated his selections.

  Off in the corner and across from the ambulance bay, I saw the vehicle. It was 1970 Plymouth Duster in blood red. SuNaTran enjoyed using odd colors for some of their cars. Next to the Cuda it was bit underpowered, but it had strong lines, a powerful engine and a SuNaTran enhanced chassis. I crouched down and waited. If anyone was watching the Duster, I’d have to take care of them first, before I calibrated.

  I used my gaze, scanned the area and came up empty. I tensed my forearm and activated Cait.

 

 

 

  I stepped close to the Duster and placed my hand on the side of the car.

 

 

  SuNaTran tech was a few generations behind the Division. Calibration on our vehicles was immediate. I had to admit though, SuNaTran vehicles did take punishment better and I had a soft spot for the classics of American muscle. I made my way to the stairs and headed up to the morgue level.

  I was early and used the time to memorize the corridor configuration and stairwell locations. The morgue itself was locked with a door that would’ve made Bruce think twice before attempting it. In large block letters, it clearly stated I had found the morgue.

  I walked near another impressive door, on the other end of the floor, careful to stay out of camera range. This door warned me about the hazardous chemicals behind it and made it clear that only authorized personnel were allowed beyond that point.

  Behind that door, Haven stored its dangerous and hazardous chemicals. It would be where the Cerberin was kept. I stepped into the nearest stairwell when I noticed the motion of the door opening.

  I glanced around the doorway and saw two men. In between them, they carried a semi-conscious Roxanne. Dressed in orange lightweight full-body hazmat suits I couldn’t make out their faces.

  “What was she doing?” Hazmat One on the left said.

  “Stupid woman was checking the Cerberin inventory,” Hazmat Two answered.

  “Do you think she knows? We have to inform Delil—”

  “No names, you idiot!”

  “You’re right. We have to tell her.”

  “Go ahead if you want. That woman freaks me out. Have you seen her eyes?”

  “You and me both.”

  “If this one was taking inventory, we have to assume she knows or at least suspects something.”

  “The inventory is compromised.”

  “You know the protocol. We get rid of her and don’t have to say anything to anyone.”

  “I’ll notify the rest of the hand. We’ll move the inventory and sanitize this location. It’ll look like an accident. The poor Director and the John Doe on the fourth level didn’t make it out in time.”

  A ‘hand’ meant there were at least three more of them. I remembered back at the Abyss, a group of five took out the NYTF.

  These groups acted like cells. Self-regulated, contained, and compartmentalized. Taking out one group only eliminated the immediate threat. It wouldn’t cripple Tigris.

  I drew Thorn and waited until they were past me and in the camera’s blind spot. I needed them to put Roxanne down and get her out of the line of fire. I had to get their attention.

  “You made three mistakes,” I called out from the stairwell and waited. Roxanne groaned as her body slumped to the floor. This was followed by the unzipping of compartments on the hazmat suits and the metallic sounds of drawn weapons.

  “Show yourself,” Hazmat Two demanded.

  I stepped into the hallway, pointing Thorn at Hazmat One.

  “First you called the woman you were carrying ‘stupid.’”

  “This is a restricted area. Authorized personnel only,” Hazmat One said. “Drop your weapon.”

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” Hazmat Two said. “You need to leave before we call security.”

  I ignored the threat.

  “Second, you didn’t
do your due diligence, and you removed a dangerous sorceress from a magical null zone.”

  “What dangerous sorceress?”

  These two were too stupid to live. “I thought you two were Tigris?” They stiffened at my mentioning the name of the organization. They may as well have been carrying a neon sign with the Tigris logo and an arrow pointing at their heads.

  “Tigris?” Hazmat Two asked. “Never heard of it.”

  “Third, you her left conscious, groggy, but conscious. That was your last mistake.”

  They both turned to look at where they had left Roxanne. She was gone.

  TWENTY-THREE

  “GO FIND HER,” Hazmat Two said. “She can’t be far in her condition. I’ll deal with him.”

  “So how did they recruit you? There’s no way you were hand-picked by Delilah.”

  “You know her?” He started to raise his gun.

  I shook my head and fired. The Haven hazmat suits used the same dragonscale fibers as my suit. The weave was tighter to prevent airborne contamination. This made their suits bullet-and puncture- proof. They didn’t stop the pain he was about to feel, though.

  The entropy rounds slammed into his chest and bounced him off the wall. He fell to the floor, dazed and gasping for breath. I ran up to him and introduced his head into the wall again with a kick.

  A violet flash caused me to look down the hallway. A screaming orange blur covered in dark energy sailed past the T-junction. Hazmat One had just encountered an angry Roxanne.

  The screams ended with a muffled thump a few seconds later. I crouched down and removed Hazmat Two’s headpiece. Roxanne rounded the corner with death in her eyes.

  “I need one of them alive.”

  “Out of my way, Ronin.”

  Black energy coalesced around her hands. Magic types were always a bit high-strung. Sometimes it was best just to get out of their way.

  “They have information,” I said, standing up and moving to the side. “There’s at least three more of them in Haven. They work for Tigris.”

  “Worked for Tigris.” She absorbed the energy, reached into a pocket, and pulled out a phone. “Get a full security detail to the HazChem area, now. Pull all the security from the fourth level. We have a breach. Yes, Alpha Echelon.”

  “Don’t kill them…yet. They may know something.”

  “You need to go liberate your partner. I dosed him before coming here. They’ll be pronouncing time of death in a few minutes. He’ll be in the morgue soon.”

  “What about the Bloodhounds around his room?”

  “I just used an Alpha Echelon command and pulled all the security from the fourth level. It means any security in Haven gets folded into our own. What level do you think your partner is on?”

  “I owe you one.”

  “More than one. Get moving. Alpha Echelon shuts down the facility. You have about thirty minutes before all of Haven is locked down.”

  “This one mentioned a hand.” I looked down at the prone form of Hazmat Two. “You need to find the other three.”

  “These two didn’t have an opportunity to contact the rest of their cell. The remaining three will think this is just a drill. We’ll grab them in the personnel check after I have a few moments with”—she grabbed the nametag from his suit—“Mitchell, who will tell me his real name and that of his associates.”

  “There could be more than one cell. He may not even be aware of the others.”

  “I’ll deal with it and the Cerberin. Here.”

  She gestured and I felt a tingle of electricity over my skin. I looked down and saw I was dressed in a lab coat over a plain brown suit. The tag on my coat said Morgue Technician. She handed me a keycard and a small vial.

  I nodded. “This should work. Be careful, Roxanne. The crew I saw at the Abyss was an efficient team, not like these two.”

  “I let my guard down. It won’t happen again.” She pointed to the key card. “That will get you into the morgue.

  I didn’t belabor the point. “Always check your six.”

  “When you’re clear, give him the vial. He’ll be a mess, but should return to normal within fifteen minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  She gave me a slight nod. “Try not to speak to anyone. If questioned, the body needs to be moved back to the Division. His paperwork should give you easy access.”

  “How long will this illusion I’m wearing last?”

  “Long enough for you to get out of Haven with your partner if you move fast. Go.”

  I holstered Thorn and headed to the other end of the level. Security personnel ran by me and headed to the HazChem wing. I approached the morgue and placed the keycard on the panel next to the massive vault door. I’d never understood why they installed these monstrous doors on morgues. It’ wasn’t like the bodies inside were going to force their way out.

  The panel flashed green and the door opened slightly. White mist rolled past me and along the floor. I stepped into the morgue and closed the door behind me. One wall was covered in small doors, morgue drawers where corpses were kept.

  The bright fluorescent lights focused on the three tables in the center of the floor where I assumed autopsies took place. The other side of the room held a small observation area behind a large glass window.

  A technician was in the observation area handling paperwork. I gave him a short nod and headed to the body on the center table. Division 13 corpses were always John or Jane Does.

  There was only one body. I checked the paperwork and confirmed that it was a Division 13 corpse from the vague language and the classified stamps across the sheets.

  I opened the body bag and made sure Jude was inside. He was banged up and bruised but otherwise intact. I didn’t envy the adventure of recovery that awaited him. I hoped he appreciated the attention I was giving his training.

  I rolled a gurney next to the table and placed his body on it.

  “What are you doing?” the technician asked.

  I grabbed the clipboard and pretended to read it. “This body’s been requested.”

  “That was fast. It just got here a few minutes ago.”

  “I don’t make the rules, just follow them.” I shrugged and strapped Jude into place on the gurney. “They want this John Doe back before I clock out. This is my last run today.”

  “Just seems quick, is all.”

  “You want to process this paperwork?” I looked at the stack of paper on his desk and waved the clipboard at him. “Place is under Alpha Echelon. If I don’t get out of here in thirty minutes, I’ll be here all day. End of shift for me so the extra hours are overtime.”

  “They run these drills all the time.” He looked at his stack and sighed, looking at his watch. “No, take that John Doe out. Saves me the trouble.”

  I started turning the gurney to head back to the large door I’d used to enter the morgue.

  “Use the ramp exit.” He pointed to a smaller version of the massive door at the other end of the morgue. “The main door won’t work by now.”

  Even though Haven was unique as a medical facility, this wasn’t the detention wing. The body was a John Doe and as far as the tech was concerned, I was relieving him of more paperwork. He waved me off and went back to his paperwork.

  I turned the gurney and headed to the ramp exit. I placed the keycard against the panel and the door clicked, allowing me to push it open with the gurney. I looked around and found myself in the ambulance bay. Just across I saw the Duster and a man standing near it.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  “YOU HAVE BEEN a right pain in the ass, Ronin.”

  “Sorry about your pups at the train station. They needed more training. Do they even understand the concept of ‘blending in’ or is that later in bloodhound 101?”

  It was Paul. An angry and tired-looking Paul. He stood several inches shorter than me with a heavyset build. From his appearance, deceptively fast wasn’t the first thought that came to mind, and you’d be wrong.

  Even with
out his techbrace, Paul was scary-fast and a master of several martial arts, Jujutsu being his favorite. I remembered him saying something about size not being a factor when you’re being twisted into a pretzel.

  He ran a hand through his short black hair and shook his head. His olive skin shone in the garage’s fluorescent lighting as he took a few steps toward me. I opened my jacket and let my hand hang near Thorn.

  “Yes, that was about as funny as a throat punch. Are you done?”

  “Depends. Why are you here, Pablo?” He hated when I called him that.

  “Don’t.” He pointed a finger at me. “What happened to your Cuda?”

  “You know Luca confiscated it from the Abyss.”

  He gave me a short nod as if to say touché. “You have a weakness for American muscle. It makes you vulnerable and predictable. I knew this one was yours.”

  “I could have been driving a Prius, you know. They’re good for the environment. Why are you here?”

  “I need to bring you in. You know this, pendejo. Don’t play stupid with me. There’s an SOS out for you.”

  “And here I thought I was being clever.”

  “Don’t insult my intelligence. Alpha Echelon and all security on level four requested right after the sudden and tragic death of one of our rookies from non-fatal injuries?”

  “I thought it was a good move.”

  He shook his head. “Amateur hour.” He opened his jacket. “How are we doing this. Easy or hard?”

  “Can I get a raincheck? My schedule is jammed. How does next Tuesday look for you?”

  “Hard, then.” He moved to draw his weapon and I shoved the gurney into him. He sidestepped the gurney and bumped into the Duster, which flared orange. I kicked the rear bumper, jumped back, and the Duster flared again.

  This time the orange energy surrounded Paul, who was still leaning into the car, overloading his system with the equivalent of two thousand volts. The runic Taser was a SuNaTran anti-theft feature. The Cuda probably would have killed him.

  Paul convulsed on the ground for a few seconds before losing consciousness. I unstrapped Jude, put him in the back seat of the Duster, and strapped Paul into the gurney. I wheeled him across to the ambulance bay, pulled out a sheet from one of the ambulances, and covered him.