When Mayhem Cries

by Alex Howell

  Mason groaned, “Great—now we have to climb a paper mâché behemoth in order to disable a weapon of mass destruction!”

  Kyle inquired, “Can you get there?”

  Mason hissed, “What choice do I have?”

  Kyle tired of being snapped at, shot back, “Geez Louise…. Just asking.”

  Mason not wishing to get into a fit of histrionics with Kyle however, answered curtly, “Alright, I’m going in.”.

  Raina a bit perturbed at Masons’ treatment of Kyle asked, “Hey Mason, why are you so mean to Kyle, he’s just trying to help.”

  Mason didn’t answer however, as he took off through the center of the crowd shouting, “Let’s go!”

  The float towered above the crowd so it wasn’t hard to miss. Although they had to practically push and shove to get to it, they finally arrived at the platform upon which the float rested. There was only one person it seemed who was in charge of the float’s operation, a big burly man with a beer belly who was manning the control to release the float.

  Mason and company were not exactly sure if he was part of the plot or just a useful dupe, but the second he hit the release button to send the float over the watching crowd below, the aerosols planted underneath would disperse Ebola down right on top of them. They couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Mason at first sought to reason with the man. Getting his attention, he yelled up at him, “Hey mister! Don’t release the float!”

  The man was startled at the sudden intrusion and at first didn’t get it. But Mason again repeated, “Don’t release the float!”

  Raina then raised her voice above the din, as she too shouted, “Don’t release the float! There’s a deadly virus on board!”

  As troubled of a history as NYC had with terror plots and attacks you would think that the man might at least consider the possibility, but he did not. And instead he shouted down at them, “Deadly virus? What the hell is wrong with you? Are you drunk? Or do you just think I’m an idiot! The float is going to be released on time!”

  Mason realizing that this man was not going to be reasoned with, looked over to a nearby patron who was guzzling the last remnants of beer from a bottle and remarked, “Good beer?”

  The man surprised at the remark turned to Mason, and loudly burped before replying, “Yeah…”

  To the man’s shock, Mason without saying another word, then grabbed the bottle, and hurled it like a boomerang right at the float operator bashing him right across the head with it. The operator loudly groaned, “Ohhh…” before falling right off the platform with a sickening thud onto the pavement below.

  Raina rushed over to check the man’s vitals; thankfully his heart was still beating and he was still breathing. ‘Mason lucked out with this one.’ She thought to herself.

  Still as reckless as he was becoming when it came to civilians, she couldn’t help but wonder how soon until his luck ran out. And if he ever accidentally killed a civilian during the course of a mission there would certainly be hell to pay.

  In a role that she was now familiar with, Raina attempted to clean up Mason’s mess. She flagged down a nearby EMS guy and pointing to the comatose float operator lied, “Hey! I just saw this guy slip and fall off the platform! He needs to go to the hospital!”

  The EMS tech then got the attention of one of his associates, and had the unconscious man lifted onto a stretcher and placed in the back of an ambulance. The EMS guys then sought to get more info from the “good Samaritan” they had spoken with, but Raina had disappeared back into the crowd.

  Mason meanwhile, had already leapt into action and climbed up onto the platform of St. Gene’s float. The first thing that he saw was what looked like some kind of generator or ventilation system surrounded by a circle of red paint.

  Mason then informed Kyle on the comm link, “Alright Kyle! I’m right on top of the device! What do I do to deactivate it?”

  Kyle instructed him, “Do you see two wires—one red and one green connected to a control panel?”

  Mason seeing the Christmas colored wires announced, “Yeah! I see em!”

  Kyle then informed Mason, “Alright, whatever you do don’t disconnected the red wire!”

  Mason repeated, “Don’t disconnect the red wire?”

  Kyle insisted, “Yes, the red wire actually runs to the activation switch and disconnecting it will be akin to pressing the activation button! As soon as you cut that wire it would send a jolt through the system to release its contents. Don’t do it!”

  Mason responded, “Got it!”

  Mason then ventured, “So I take it—it’s the green wire I need to cut then.”

  Kyle affirmed, “Right, you do need to cut it. But wait a second—”

  Mason muttered, “Just what am I waiting on—I don’t exactly have all day here.”

  Kyle then came back, “The Green wire is what you need—but you don’t want to cut it either. You need to disconnect it in order to avoid a potential partial release of some of the residue.”

  Mason nodded, “Okay...”

  Kyle elaborated, “What you need to do is disconnect the wire from the power source, without damaging it so the system will go to idle.”

  Kyle then added, “There should be two screws attached to the plug, just undo them and you should be good to go.” Kyle then asked, “Do you have a screw driver on you?”

  Mason realizing the problem cursed, “Damn…”

  Kyle asked again, “Well do you have one or not?”

  Mason growing agitated, responded, “Yeah Kyle, I’ll go ahead and pull one out of my ass and get right to work.”

  Kyle muttered, “Sarcasm…. How charming… Anyway—if you don’t have a screwdriver… you’ll just have to find another way to disconnect the bolts without damaging the wiring.”

  Mason grumbled, “Alright—alright—I’ll take them off with my teeth if I have to.”

  18

  Desperate Times and Desperate Measures

  A fter Mason ended the call with Kyle, Raina who had been too busy monitoring the crowd with Mathew Benton to pay attention, could tell immediately that there was something wrong. She questioned him, “What’d you find out?”

  Mason sighed, “Kyle says that we need to disconnect the green wire on the device.”

  Raina then promptly pulled out a pair of small scissors she always kept in her pocket and asked, “Shall I do the honors.”

  Mason practically screamed, “No!! If we cut the wires it will cause the exhaust to rev up and shoot out some of the pathogen! We have to manually disconnect it! Not cut it!”

  Raina shocked by the voracity of the onslaught she was dealt, quietly intoned, “Oh…” She then suggested, “Okay—well… lets disconnect it.”

  Mason nodded, “Yeah I would like to but there is only one problem.”

  Raina asked, “What’s that.”

  Mason groaned, “I don’t have a freaking screw driver to undo the two bolts on the back.”

  Raina gasped, “You have got to be kidding me.”

  She then thought, “Wait, Benton is like the resident MacGyver here on Onyx, maybe he has one.” She then patched in Benton who was a short distance away monitoring the crowd, on her Comm link, “Hey Benton, we need your assistance here.”

  Benton responded, “Yeah, with what?”

  Raina told him, “We need a screwdriver to get a couple bolts off of this device.”

  Benton laughed, “Seriously…alright I’ll…” Benton then trailed off as he realized, “Shit…”

  Raina asked, “I hope that shit doesn’t mean what I think it means Benton….”

  Benton admitted, “It does… I don’t have one either….” Benton then offered, “I have a whole tool box in my car! Just give me a minute to…”

  Mason then chimed in, “We don’t have a minute matt! We have to improvise somehow!”

  Benton then suggested, “Yeah time to put some of those mad skills of improv we learned in the SEALs to use…just find something ANYTHING that
you could use to get those bolts off of there.”

  Mason quickly shot back, “Right… I’ll see what I can do.” Mason then scanned the platform thinking that he could find a wayward tool from one of the techs, muttering, “You would think that they would have something up here...”

  But the platform looked as clean as a broom. Mason muttered, “Damn… Who put all this shit together and didn’t even leave any tools around for last minute adjustments…?”

  Mason growing desperate started to look at the ground hoping to find something that he could somehow commandeer and use as a tool to take off the bolts. But aside from broken beer bottles, and the occasional wayward Coney dog he was coming up with absolutely nothing. It was then that he heard the unmistakable sound of a drunken reveler opening up a bottle of beer.

  He looked over to see the guy with some kind of multipurpose bottle opener—cracking open his bottle of beer. Mason knew the kind of multi tool—he had one himself in the past. And the one that he had happened to have a screw driver attached to it. Hoping that this patron’s opener would have one as well, he stared at it thinking to himself, ‘Does it have it? Does it have it? Does it—? Yes, it does!’

  Sure enough, along with a snazzy pair of fingernail clippers, he saw a small screw driver hanging off of the multi tool instrument. Mason knowing that there was no time to be polite, clambered back down from the platform, charged right at the man, and snatched the opener right out of his hand. The reveler was dumbfounded, as Mason shouted, “Sorry sir! I need this more than you do!”

  Mason then ran back into the crowd, as the man began to shout, “Help! Thief! Bottle opener thief! Help!”

  Mason holding the multi tool up in the air as if it were his prized possession, shouted, “I got it! I got it!”

  Wasting no time, Mason then leapt back up onto the platform of the float and got to work on the device. The tool was not the best but with massive force and concentration he was indeed able to turn the screws. After about 30 seconds had elapsed, he managed to get the first off, the metal plate wiggling loose in his hands.

  He was working on the second when something completely unexpected happened, he heard a gunshot as a bullet whizzed right past his ear. Mason couldn’t believe it, besides being shot at, he was shocked that NYC was so lax as to let someone into this public extravaganza with a firearm.

  Mason shouted into the comm-link to Benton and Raina, “Shots fired! Shots fired!”

  Benton asked, “Where?”

  Mason growled, “At me! Someone just shot at me up here!”

  Benton not sure what else to say, told him, “Alright man, I’m on it—just keep working up there.”

  Mason getting frustrated responded with a terse, “Okay… I’ll try not to turn into swiss cheese over here.”

  Benton scanned the crowd. And with his eagle eye he managed to find their gunman. He was up on the ledge of a nearby apartment building, and Mason could see that he was busy aiming his gun right at Mason.

  Benton cursed, “Shit!”

  Mason struggled break through the crowd but he realized the guy was just too far away, and he wouldn’t be able to get to him in time to tackle him or chase him off. So instead he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out another gift courtesy of explosives expert Chris Bradley—a stun grenade.

  Mathew Benton was a star quarterback in High School and used to be known for having a great throwing arm. It had been many years since then, but as he hurled the stun grenade up onto the ledge, he seriously hoped that his old Hail Mary pass would still work.

  The airborne stun grenade landed right at the assailant’s feet, and seconds later a loud boom could be heard rattling the ledge. Benton looked up in time to see the suspect knocked to the side and sent tumbling down a fire escape. ‘I still got it.’ Benton thought to himself. With that throw his old high school coach would indeed have been proud.

  Mason meanwhile continued work on the screw. Finally, he was able to tug it loose and with it, the back plating came right off. Mason then watched as the red wire disconnected without a problem. But to his amazement, the green wire was so badly rusted and corroded, that even without being bolted on by the metal plate it was still attached.

  Mason cursed, “Damn—what the hell do I need now, some WD40?!”

  Just then Kyle then came on the line and informed him, “Mason the virus is already starting to release!”

  Horrified, Mason asked, “Are you serious?”

  Kyle confirmed, “Yes I can detect trace elements of it. Its’ in small quantities but will gradually increase!”

  Mason knowing, he had no choice, said a few prayers—even though he wasn’t known to pray—and gave the cord a gentle tug. To his relief it fell away—and the generator shut down.

  19

  Who Pulled the Fire Alarm?

  M ason reported back to Kyle on the comm link, “Kyle! I did it! It’s shut down! How much of a threat does the small amount released pose?”

  Kyle informed him, “Not much if you can get people to immediately evacuate the area, but if they linger for too long, they could get sick.”

  Mason looked at the crowd and cursed, “Shit…how am I supposed to get them to get out of here.”

  Kyle responded, “I don’t know…but you have to..."

  Mason snapped back, “Alright…alright… I’ll think of something.”

  Mason then looked to his right just as a DJ on another platform was announcing, “Welcome to Little Italy 2029!”

  A woman next to the man then handed him some kind of Italian, meatball sandwich. The guy took a bite and then joked with the crowd in what was meant to be a thick Italian accent, “Now-a That’s-a Spicy Meat-a Ball!”

  Mason not appreciating the humor too much cursed, “Great…”

  But it was when he was looking up at the nonsensical ramblings of the DJ parading across the stage with his microphone that Mason had an idea. He thought to himself, ’If thousands of people are willing to listen to this idiot, then maybe I can get them to listen to me.’

  Raina watched from a short distance away as Mason tore down the float platform like a madman and began shoving his way through the crowd.

  She shouted, “Mason?”

  But he didn’t hear, he shoved through person after person like a wrecking ball offending just about everyone in his wake. Some tangled up patrons even bumped into each other in the confusion and began throwing punches at one another.

  Mason didn’t care. As revelers attempted to scratch and punch at him, he remained fixed on his goal and plowed right ahead. Once he finally made it to the stage, he grabbed an overhead railing and like a master gymnast used it to swing up onto the platform.

  The DJ startled to see him, mistook Mason for a deranged fan, and literally dropped the mic before running off stage to get away. Mason then knelt down and picked up his dropped microphone to shout, “Everybody get out! There’s been a deadly virus that has been released! Evacuate the premises”

  At first no one believed him and jeered at him stuff like, “Get off the stage moron! Get down from there!”

  Mason wouldn’t give up however as he pleaded, “Listen to me—this is no joke. I’m a government agent with a task force assigned to foil a major terrorist plot. We’ve stopped the main attack but some of the virus has managed to escape. But if you leave now—you won’t get hurt.”

  The crowd still seemed slow to catch on so Mason quickly patched Kyle in on his Comm Link and told him, “Alright Kyle buddy I need your help. They’re not listening—time for Plan B. Pull the freaking fire alarm!”

  Kyle a veteran hacker—immediately understood Mason’s request and knew what to do. He logged into the control center operating the parade, and hacked into the emergency alert system. It was then child’s play for him to activate flashing lights and sirens on every corner.

  Nothing gets people’s attention like a blaring fire alarm, and if they needed any further convincing, Mason once again grabbed the mic and Mason not resorted to
something that they say you should never do in a crowded location. He started yelling, “Fire!! Fire!! Fire!!”

  In the chaos of the blaring alarms, this seemed to get an immediate reaction as everyone in the crowd began to work as an echoing chamber repeating that there was a fire somewhere on the festival grounds.

  Even though in reality—none existed, the power of suggestion being as it is, soon patrons were swearing up and down that an inferno had erupted on one of the floats. And like a tidal wave of fearful humanity, the people then flooded toward all of the exits until they could get clear of the danger.

  As the people dispersed, Mason shouted into the commlink to Raina, “Raina! Everybody’s leaving! Now’s our chance! Go back up to the platform and get the remaining vials of toxin!” Raina responded, “Right I’ve got Chris with me. We’re heading there now.”

  A FEW MOMENTS LATER ON TOP OF THE PLATFORM FOR THE FLOAT. Raina had gathered up the vials as directed, putting them carefully inside a bio bag brought just for this task. It was now the explosions expert Chris Bradley’s turn. Chris took one look at the generator and informed Raina, “I have just what I need for this one—an implosion bomb.”

  Raina couldn’t help but laugh, “What—you just take one with you wherever you go?”

  The truth was a little more complicated than that, it was Kyle’s suggestion that such a device may be needed—but Chris went with it anyway, laughing, “Yep, don’t leave home without them.”

  The work ahead was no laughing matter however, it required the intense kind of concentration that only a veteran bomb expert like Chris Bradley possessed. As Chris worked the whole world often seemed to slow down around him, until only his highly focused concentration on the task at hand remained.

  Chris rummaged in his bag and pulled out a menacing looking plastic explosive, shaped like a small hockey puck, along with an ignition key which when placed inside, would start the chain reaction leading up to the explosion.