The Warning

by Michelle E Lowe

  “Got it,” she replied grimly.

  Marko and Dog pushed their way out of the room and bolted toward the others, standing by the jeep parked at the front doors. Ari stayed at her laptop, surveying the grounds.

  “Do we have time to get out before they get here?” Dog asked.

  “No,” she answered. “They’re here.”

  Marko trotted toward the back of the jeep. “We need to move. Now!”

  Ari slapped her laptop shut and followed Dog and Mockingbird to the jeep in the back. Kip joined Marko behind the other one. Marko raised the hatchback and took out a wet-suit. Dog took similar suits from the hatchback of his jeep and passed them to Ari and Mockingbird. When they suited up, they got into the jeeps. Kip held a remote with two switches.

  “Ready?” Marko asked as he got behind the wheel.

  Kip pinched one switch and said, “Ready.”

  “You guys ready?” Marko asked through a radio.

  “Ready when you are, boss man,” Dog replied.

  “Do it,” Marko ordered Kip.

  Kip flicked the switch down.

  Over fifty police cars plowed through the weak chain-link fence and came to a screeching halt around the palatial building. Fully-armed officers prepared to move in. Captain Nelson Grant jumped out and shouted, “Break down those doors!”

  A small group of officers brought out a battering ram and charged the boarded-up doors. Then Grant noticed something odd; smoke rose from the wide cracks of the broken concrete. The officers rushing toward the doors suddenly stopped as white and yellow smoke plumed from the asphalt like rising fog, blinding and choking them. The air was suffocating as CM6grenades pumped out toxic gas.

  “It’s teargas!” Grant shouted, his throat burning and closing in. “Get … get your masks on!”

  “It’s time,” Marko said.

  “Okay-doke,” Kip said nervously, clicking the next switch.

  The walls in front of the jeeps exploded. The glass doors shattered, opening an escape route.

  Marko floored the accelerator. He zigzagged around police cars, doing his best not to run over any of the dazed officers hidden in the thick smoke. A few shot at them, but the bullets bounced off the jeep’s armored exterior. Marko cleared the parking lot and drove onto the road, accelerating to top speed. Ari branched off and drove down a separate street.

  Marko’s people climbed down the knotted rope to an old, forgotten train tunnel below. Quill waited for everyone to descend while guiding them with her light. Frightened, yet calm, they reached the bottom. At the tracks, they brought out their own flashlights and made their way through the dark tunnel. Once they resurfaced, they would separate and head for home, where they would go back to their lives. If any of them were to pass on the street, they’d treat each other like strangers.

  When the last person was on the ground Quill checked her watch, then took out a tiny detonator. She waited another minute, and then pressed the button, igniting the TNT she’d strapped on the columns of the strip club. The tunnel rumbled as the building above exploded.

  Grant stumbled like a drunken sailor back to his car and slammed the door when he got in. Blinded by stinging tears, he slid his hands over the dashboard until he found the radio. “This is Captain Grant. We need—”

  The strip club blew up in a ball of fire. Officers ran for cover as pieces of concrete fell around them. Grant dove into the passenger seat as the blast shook his car. Beads of glass struck him when the windshield shattered. He raised his head to survey the fiery mess.

  Damn it! Now there won’t be anything left to get any DNA or evidence from!

  He raised the radio and finished his request for back-up.

  “Can I help you with something, buddy?” the cop at the front desk of the 18th Precinct asked to a hairless man.

  “Yes,” Twenty said. “I need to speak to the Chief of Police, Howard Osborn.”

  “And you are …?”

  “Tell him I’m a friend of Doctor Linden and it’s important.”

  The officer studied him. Twenty sensed he was a bit intimidated.

  “Just a sec,” the officer said, picking up a phone.

  As he waited for an answer, two men in suits entered. One had an arm in a sling with his coat draped over his shoulders. The other had a strange white patch in his hair. They tried walking by when the officer called to them. “Hey, you can’t just come in without authorization.”

  One of the men showed his badge. The officer studied it and buzzed them through. As they passed, Twenty followed them with his eyes.

  “What the fuck are you looking at, you oversized action toy?” the one with the wounded arm said hotly.

  Twenty said nothing and slid his eyes away.

  “It’s the weird ones that come out at night,” the man muttered under his breath.

  “All right, sir,” the officer said, hanging up the phone. “The chief’s on his way.”

  “Thank you,” Twenty said politely.

  Knox was relieved. He’d finally found the right person to help him with his dilemma. “Thanks, JM. You have no idea what this means to me.” He hung up just as McLean and Zimmerman entered the office. “Wow,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You’re both pretty stupid. Did you actually think I’d bring them here?”

  He knew how the agents had found him. In the car with Rivera, they’d switched guns, allowing him to be traced. Rivera currently had his personal weapon, which wasn’t traceable.

  “How’s the arm?” Knox asked McLean with a grin.

  The man narrowed his eyes in anger.

  “Where are they?” Zimmerman demanded.

  “Someplace safe. But it really wouldn’t matter if I told you. See this?” He turned the flat screen monitor to them. “I’ve sent Crawford’s and Novak’s recorded confession over to one of the most powerful judges in the city.”

  MESSAGE SENT SUCCESSFULLY blinked on the screen. No one said anything for a long moment.

  “Don’t you morons know that a respected investigator like me would be acquainted with powerful and honest people that I could turn to in a crisis? Besides, even if you did kill them, the judge would immediately start an investigation that would ultimately lead to the mayor. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  McLean’s face turned cherry red.

  “We ought to send in that big fucker to rough him up for us,” Zimmerman suggested.

  Knox’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “What d’you mean?”

  “Nothing,” McLean retorted. “Just some guy we saw at the front desk who got carried away with a razor.”

  Carried away with a razor? He spun his monitor back around and went into security. Several different camera views inside the police station appeared on screen. He clicked on the view showing the front desk and instantly spotted the tall man dressed in black, standing like a military soldier at ease.

  “What are you doing?” McLean demanded hastily.

  Knox zoomed in on the man’s face and noted that he lacked eyebrows. “Shit,” he said, shooting up.

  “What?” McLean asked, alarmed.

  “There’s a goddamn Replica here.”

  Zimmerman grabbed the monitor and turned it around to see for himself. “Jesus,” he whispered, reaching into his coat for his cell phone.

  Knox opened the top drawer of his desk, where his gun and badge were. He snatched them both and headed for holding. Although there might’ve been another reason for the Replica’s visit to the station, his gut feeling told him it had something to do with Crowe.

  Osborn came in through the door. When he spotted the Replica, he knew exactly what it was, even though he’d never seen one up close before. His palms became moist, but he kept in mind that the thing couldn’t have a weapon. The scanners at the front doors would’ve detected any guns, knives, or bombs.

  “Howard Osborn?” the Replica surmised.

  “Yeah,” he answered, blotting his hand on his pants. “Did Doctor Linden send you?”

  “
I must see your prisoner, Nikolai Crowe,” he said flatly.

  Osborn became confused. Whatever the Replica wanted with Crowe shouldn’t be discussed at the front desk. “Follow me.”

  He waved his badge over the scanner. In the main station, they walked side by side down a hallway. “Can I ask why you need to see him?”

  “I’m not here just to see him,” the Replica said, keeping his eyes forward. “If it’s all the same, I don’t particularly care to discuss my affairs. I’m only following this annoying route because I don’t want to start any trouble. Understood?”

  Osborn stopped cold. “I need to know what Linden wants with him.”

  The Replica glared at him. “Doctor Linden doesn’t want anything to do with him. I do. He’s disgraced me and I’m here to redeem myself.”

  Osborn caught on and fought to keep himself from grinning. This was the perfect opportunity to do away with a very large problem. He’d just explain that the Replica had threatened to harm his officers if he didn’t deliver him Crowe. If anyone’s head fell on the chopping block, it would be Linden’s.

  “This way,” Osborn said pleasantly.

  “What do you mean destroyed?” Sho asked into his cell phone from the back seat of his Town Car.

  “Just as I said,” Linden retorted. “Every single Beta and Gamma model, with the exception of one, has been terminated by the Alphas.”

  “Can’t you fix them?” the mayor returned petulantly.

  “It’s not like repairing a car. You can’t simply replace their parts. The bodies are brain dead and cannot be jump-started back to life.”

  “How long will it take to rebuild the army? A year? Two?”

  There was no immediate reply on the other end. Sho thought Linden needed the time to calculate an estimated time frame. As he waited, live coverage of a police chase between cops and two jeeps played on the TV embedded in the back of the front seat across from him.

  “I must confess,” Linden finally said, “I don’t think our plan is going to work anymore.”

  Sho’s blood pressure rose. “What?”

  “I’ve come to realize that if we set an army of Replicas loose, it would ultimately be the downfall of humanity. I’ll no longer create any more of them.”

  “You can’t do this. We had a deal.”

  “No deal is worth the kind of devastation the world would endure if we followed through with it. The Replicas can develop their own thoughts, emotions, and ideas. Sooner or later they’d turn on us—all of us. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

  “Then fix it,” Sho fired back. “Do whatever it takes to program them to be obedient like they’re supposed to be and move forward.”

  “It’s over, Hiroshi. And don’t think you can get someone else to take my place. I’m the only one who can put it all together. It would take years for anyone else to do what I can. I’m deleting the Replica data and burning the hard copies to prevent anyone from following in my footsteps.”

  “What about this last Replica?” Sho argued. “Can’t you clone him?”

  “I most certainly will not. As mayor of this city, you should bite the bullet and warn your citizens of the danger among them. It’s time we considered the people rather than what we can take from them.”

  Sho was left with dead air. When he tried calling Linden back, he got no answer. “Damn it!”

  The More Aggressive Law had brought order back to the city when it had been overrun with criminal activity, but that didn’t slake his thirst for justice. He felt a need to do more to fill the void in his heart, caused by the sight of his father’s death. He wanted enough power to inflict strict punishment on those outside the law—throughout America and the world and he didn’t care if he had to create an army to achieve that goal.

  Then Linden’s words rolled around inside his head. His tense body loosened. He wondered if what Linden had said was true and the Replicas could, in fact, develop their own thinking capabilities, leading to an overthrow of the human race. That thought scared him tremendously.

  Have we dodged more than just a bullet?

  He lowered his phone and leaned back in his seat with a sigh. His phone rang. It was Agent Zimmerman.

  “You did the right thing,” Waver said to Linden, standing beside him in the Pit.

  “I suppose,” the old man said poignantly.

  Workers hauled bodies to the incinerator chambers. The sweltering room reeked of burning flesh. Linden’s lifetime of work had come to an end.

  Chapter 28

  Nikolai sat on the cot until the sound of rushing footsteps coming down the stairs startled him. “What the hell?” he whispered, leaning forward.

  “Crowe,” Knox said urgently. “I need to get you out of here.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  Knox swiped his badge against the scanner. The cell door buzzed and slid open. “There’s a Replica in the building. I think it’s here for you.”

  “For me?” He got to his feet. “It could be Ebenezer.”

  “Who?”

  “The Replica who was with me. He won’t hurt anyone.”

  Why would he come? He isn’t crazy enough to try getting me out, is he?

  “I don’t think it’s the same one,” Knox said. “It doesn’t look like it’s here to pay a polite visit.” Knox took him by the arm and hurried him along.

  Nikolai’s fragile body felt it would shatter under his grasp.

  “I don’t understand, why would a …?” The only other Replica that would come for him would be the one who’d attacked Ebenezer at the prison—the same one he’d encountered on the subway train. “That thing must still think I know where he is.”

  Knox ran up the stairs. “Who?”

  “Ebenezer. You met him once, remember?”

  Knox waved his badge over the lock. “Yeah, I remember.”

  “The other Replica has been searching for him. It thinks I can lead it to him.” Fear swept over him, remembering his last painful encounter with the Replica. One he’d rather not repeat.

  * * * * *

  “Why is there a Replica at the police station?” Sho asked Zimmerman. “What does it want?”

  “No clue, sir, but I thought you should be informed about it.”

  Sho had three options available. He could ignore the situation or get the Replica and convince Linden to clone it. Or he could do the right thing. “Find it and order it to return to Mill Rock. It … needs to be destroyed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Sho pressed END and turned his attention back to the police chase on television.

  Marko glanced at the review mirror to see red and blue lights flashing behind them. Four miles stretched between them and their destination. If the cops boxed them in, they might not make it.

  Kip studied the satellite view on his laptop. “There’s about thirty more coming up at this next intersection. Speed up or they’ll cut us off.”

  Marko accelerated, bringing the jeep up to ninety miles per hour. It was no easy task driving at such speed while maneuvering around other cars on the four-lane street. Traffic seemed to stand still in comparison. New York traffic at any hour was a headache, making it more difficult to escape a fleet of cops on his tail, but he kept his cool as he flew between the cars.

  The jeep roared through the intersection just as the police convoy reached them. The vehicles skidded around the corner, onto the main road, and joined the others in the chase. A police helicopter flew overhead, shining its spotlight over the jeep. A handful of news choppers followed.

  “How much farther ’til we reach the bridge?”

  “Three minutes, tops,” Kip replied.

  “How many cops are on us?”

  Kip zoomed in on his satellite view.

  “Kip?” Marko demanded.

  “Hold up, I’m still counting.”

  “Never mind,” he said grimly. “Tell me how it looks on the road ahead.”

  “They’ve got a major roadblock at the mouth of the
bridge, blocking off our escape routes.”

  Marko swallowed and gripped tighter on the leather-wrapped steering wheel.

  “Find a way for us to get around them.” He got on the radio. “Ari, the bridge—”

  “We just saw,” she cut in. “We’re searching for a way through right now.”

  “Better hurry, we don’t have much time.”

  He lowered the radio and hoped no one had listened in on that frequency. It didn’t matter anymore. They would reach a wall of heavily armed police in less than three minutes.

  Osborn used his badge to unlock the door leading into the holding area. As he and the Replica headed into the hallway, McLean and Zimmerman caught up to them.

  “Excuse me, Chief Osborn?” McLean called, catching the heavy door before it closed. “We must ask you to cease what you’re doing.”

  Osborn turned to them. “What are you talking about? This is my precinct and I’ll do whatever I damn well please.”

  “No, this is the city’s precinct. As of now, Mayor Sho’s in control, and he wants this … thing to go back to the lab where it came from.”

  Both Osborn and the Replica stared at the men. The Replica spoke first. “I don’t care what your master wants me to do.” With that, it turned and continued on its way.

  McLean and Zimmerman raced after the Replica and jumped in front of it.

  “Stop!” Zimmerman ordered.

  McLean grabbed the Replica’s wrist. “Don’t. I’m ordering you, on behalf of the Mayor of New York City, to return to that freak house. Am I making myself clear, drone?”

  The Replica glared at him. “I’ve had enough of humans disrespecting me. I won’t tolerate it anymore.” It grabbed the back of McLean’s head and pushed him face first into the concrete-block wall. The agent’s face splattered on impact. Zimmerman reached for his gun.