The Euclidian: Alien Hitman

by Jay Cannon

  “We need to get help. Let’s see if we can get the human police force to help us out.”

  ***

  Daloi and Dholi walked into Manhattan’s 17th precinct police station, this time disguised as two very young women new to the city. After explaining their issue briefly to the desk sergeant, they found themselves seated in stiff, plastic chairs in Captain Ron McKee’s office.

  “Captain McKee, I’m Daloi and this is my sister, Dholi,” she said, shaking the captain’s hand.

  Daloi pleaded with Captain McKee for his help. She batted long-lashed brown eyes at him, while Dholi watched quietly. It had taken Daloi the better part of an hour to gain this audience with the perspiring human before her. Apparently, he was in charge of the Homicide Unit of this police force. Daloi felt it was imperative that she get him to go after Adar.

  “This guy killed our friend, and he’s after us,” she whined. “I swear to you he’s an alien. Look at his eyes!” She showed him a video of Adar attacking Tatan in Chicago.

  McKee sat in his creaky, reclining desk chair rubbing his day-old whiskers as he rocked back and forth, listening to the young woman before him. His middle-aged, bulging waistline tugged at the buttons of a wrinkled, coffee-stained dress shirt as he leaned forward over his desk to give the two ladies sitting across from him a long, assessing look. Ordinarily, the captain would chalk this up as another couple of loonies who hadn’t taken their meds in a while. But the face on the video looked familiar. That looks like the guy they want for the slaughter at Max’s, he thought.

  “Hold on a minute,” the captain said, as he strode to his door. “Calvin, could you come in here a minute. I want you to listen to this. It has to do with the shooting at Max’s. Ladies, this is Sgt. Calvin Peters. He’s working on the case involving a shooting that may have involved the same perpetrator.”

  “Can you tell me the location of your friend when the ‘alien’ attacked him?” McKee asked, using air quotes.

  Daloi seemed genuinely distressed as she recounted her story, but her companion Dholi kept crossing and uncrossing her legs, causing the tiny pink mini-skirt to drift upwards, flashing him tantalizing glimpses of her inner thighs, all the while grinning at him like a sly Cheshire cat.

  “It was somewhere in Chicago,” said Daloi, pouring all the distress she could muster into her performance. “We visited there for a while and decided to move to New York. Now he’s here,” Daloi said with emphasis to show she was serious.

  “Do you think he’s following you?” McKee asked, looking for a connection.

  “We don’t know. We can only imagine he wants to get rid of any witnesses to the crime. After seeing the video on the news, we decided to come to the police,” Daloi said, working to muster a look of fear onto her face.

  “Play your video again, so Sgt. Peters can see it,” said McKee.

  “That is definitely the person from Max’s attacking your friend,” said Peters, after watching the screen for a few seconds.

  “We need to keep that recording,” McKee said, reaching to take it from Daloi.

  “This is my only way to communicate with my sister,” Daloi cried, pulling her communicator away from his grasp. “Could you possibly make a copy?”

  “Sure, let me grab one of my body cams.” McKee recorded the scene from Daloi’s screen and then handed her one of his cards. “You call me if you have any other information.”

  “We will, Captain,” Daloi purred, as both ladies grinned widely at McKee, their unique teeth hidden behind bright, glossy lips that gleamed under the garish fluorescent lights of the police station. The two curtsied before leaving McKee’s office.

  ***

  The case perturbed McKee and it showed. He bounced a tennis ball against the wall in front of his desk, thinking. I don’t want to believe that we have an alien in our midst. That video from Max’s place with apparent waves of energy emanating from that perp’s weapon is hard to explain. And the victims’ wounds suggest some sort of energy weapon was used. The captain stepped to the door of his office and yelled into the squad room. “Johnson, any progress on picking up Ahmed?”

  “Not yet, captain. We have a detail watching his apartment though, and I spread the word to our patrols. It’s only a matter of time before we apprehend him,” said an older detective, shaking his bald head as he sat hunched over his desk.

  “Stay on it. We need to catch this guy,” McKee said, spurred by a nagging sense of urgency. He returned to his own desk to rock in his chair and stew on what he had just seen and heard.

  ***

  “Adar, you have to tell me where you learned those amazing fighting moves and where you got that laser weapon of yours,” Ahmed begged, excitement gleaming in his dark eyes as the duo left Vinnie’s offices, located at the back of a pool hall on 21st Street.

  Adar and Ahmed had killed Vinnie and all of his people. Adar took the lead, using his spear except for a couple of instances when he fired the photon rifle. Ahmed assisted in the rampage, using a silencer on his 9mm Glock. The sounds of their attack were muffled by the music playing on the intercom throughout the building and by sounds of the patrons shooting pool in the front part of the building. Once done, the two sneaked out the back of the building and down the alley.

  “The less you know, the safer you will be,” said Adar, who was reluctant to share anything with Ahmed. Adar studied the young human. Thus far, he had been most helpful, but like the other beings he had encountered on this backwater planet, his curiosity was becoming tedious.

  “I’m hungry and need to eat,” Adar said, looking to change the subject. “Why don’t we meet in the morning and go over to Harry’s”

  “That works for me. I’ll come by around 10:30,” said Ahmed, turning to walk towards his place.

  Adar went home and ate a couple of raw steaks that he chased with a glass of Tammarian grog. He was halfway through his shower when he heard a knock on the door. Wrapping his dripping body in a robe, he opened the door to find Abigale standing there with a sugar bowl in her hands.

  “Forgive me Mr. Adar. I was making some tea and seemed to run out of sugar. Could you help an old lady out?” Abigale asked, smiling innocently.

  “No problem Abigale. I keep the sugar on the nightstand next to my bed. If you follow me in I’ll let you have some. Does that work for you?” Adar asked, escorting her towards his bedroom.

  “Why Mr. Adar, I do believe you are making me blush,” Abigale gushed, eagerly trailing behind him.

  Chapter 11

  A Mission to Syria

  Ahmed arrived at Adar’s place just after 10:30 the next morning. Upon entering the apartment, he noticed a sugar bowl on the floor by the door.

  “Adar, you want me to put this in the kitchen for you?” Ahmed asked Adar, holding the bowl up in the air.

  “No, leave it there. My neighbor will come by looking for it later.” Adar thought warmly of the previous evening’s excitement.

  “Let’s give Harry an update and see what else he has for us,” Adar suggested, hoping for another chance to kill some bad guys as he pulled on his coat. “I also hope he has news about any new women joining the mob,” he added.

  “I’m just going to be happy to get that money. I need it to get my family back,” said Ahmed, sounding worried.

  “What do you mean, get your family back?” Adar asked, cocking his head to the side in puzzlement.

  Ahmed sighed, momentarily overwhelmed by the fear and worry he rarely let others see. “Being part of a religious group back home, I was responsible for carrying out certain tasks. One of those tasks required me to travel to America to set off a device that would kill a bunch of people. After I arrived here, I couldn’t get myself to do it. Americans aren’t the evil people my leaders led us to believe they are. People have been pretty hospitable to me, considering I’m Muslim and come from Syria.”

  Making a visible effort to shove inside the emotions clouding his features, Ahmed continued, “Anyway, our leader back home became
unhappy with my lack of resolve and decided to kidnap my wife and two kids. He said I had to carry out the attack, or pay him $150,000 to get my family back.”

  “Screw that. Let’s go get your family back. Where are they being held?” Adar demanded, his voice rising with excitement at the prospect of undertaking a new violent mission.

  “In a small village just east of Hamrat, Syria. Do you even know where Syria is?” Ahmed asked, wondering if he was wasting his time.

  “I know where every country is on this planet. You’ll have to point out the city to me though. Just point to it on here.” Adar held his UCD up to Ahmed and stretched it out to make the screen easier to view.

  “How’d you do that?” Ahmed asked, startled by the ease with which Adar was able to display a map of the world on the unfamiliar high-tech device.

  “Focus on where you think they are,” Adar said, pointing to the screen.

  “There’s the village.” Ahmed pointed to a spot with his forefinger. “Can you zoom in?”

  “Sure, how’s this?” Adar moved his hand over the screen to magnify the view of the village.

  “Great, there’s the building that serves as their remote headquarters. It’s also where they hold their meetings and keep beds for their people. I believe the small building to the left is where they keep prisoners.”

  “Let’s see if they’re in there,” said Adar, doing something else to the screen to view the interior of the building.

  “What the hell! Are you using some sort of advanced satellite technology?” Ahmed looked at Adar with incredulity after seeing the view on the screen go right through the wall to what appeared to be a live shot of the interior.

  “Something like that. Do you see your family?” Adar asked, motioning for Ahmed to look back at the screen.

  “Yes, that’s them in the cell right there. There’s only two guards on the door and one inside. We can catch a plane to Turkey, cross the border into Syria, take the guards out and free my family with little or no effort,” Ahmed suggested, looking at Adar eagerly.

  “Screw that. Let’s kill everyone at that site so you won’t have to worry about any of them bothering you again.” The alien threw an amused glance at Ahmed. “As far as getting there, I don’t take airplanes,” Adar said, grimacing.

  Adar felt a rush of adrenalin at the thought of going into battle. The odds will be stacked against these feeble humans, but that’s the chance you take when you initiate aggressive behavior against those weaker than you. Adar started to pant, thinking about the people he was about to kill.

  “Adar, are you okay?” Ahmed asked, watching the changes come over Adar.

  “Yes, I just need to contact my ship to get us to the site.” Adar spoke to Wylyy in Euclidian on his UCD. “Transport me and my partner here to the field outside this building,” Adar requested, after transmitting the coordinates to Wylyy.

  “What is that language you are speaking?” asked Ahmed.

  “Ahmed, lay down on the ground and whatever you do, don’t scream,” Adar instructed, ignoring the question.

  “Why would I scream? Uhmmf!” Ahmed fought to muffle his fear as he stumbled and fell to the ground. One moment he was standing in Adar’s apartment and the next, he was lying in the sparse grass of the Syrian countryside.

  “That’s why. Adar laughed, watching Ahmed try to figure out what had transpired.

  “What the hell just happened?” whispered Ahmed. They lay in a field of bushes outside the building he had just seen on Adar’s screen.

  “That’s their headquarters, right?” Adar pointed through the bushes towards a dirty beige one-story building a hundred yards away.

  “Yes, but how the hell did we get here? You’re freaking me out, man,” Ahmed said, patting his body to see if he was still in one piece.

  “You’ve seen Star Trek?” asked Adar, remembering one of the training sessions he went through on the Andrea.

  “Yeah. So you’re Captain Kirk?” Ahmed asked, trying to get his head around the question.

  “No, I’m one of the people he might visit. Now, let’s focus on getting your family back. There are three people in front of the main building and two in front of the smaller building. I will take them out. Then we can go inside and take care of the rest,” Adar looked for Ahmed’s consent. But the former terrorist still looked dazed.

  “I guess that explains why bullets don’t hurt you, and that laser rifle,” Ahmed mumbled, talking to himself as he tried to understand how he suddenly wound up in Syria.

  Adar ignored Ahmed’s ramblings. “I’ll go down first and use my spear so I don’t create a lot of noise. You might want to take out your gun in case a patrol comes up here.” Adar slapped Ahmed’s shoulder in an attempt to get him to focus.

  “You think that’s a possibility?” asked Ahmed, still a bit confused. He pulled out his Glock from a waist holster, noted a bullet in the chamber and took the safety off before screwing in the silencer. He also felt for the extra magazine in the left-hand pocket of his short leather jacket before looking back at Adar.

  “Yes, I do. Now try to pay attention,” Adar said sternly.

  Ahmed shook his head in amazement, understanding now why his benefactor had such poor English skills.

  “Ahmed, I’m going to cloak so those people don’t see me coming. Follow me into the building, once I have taken out the exterior guards and gone inside."

  “How am I supposed to see you go inside, if you’re cloaked?” Ahmed asked, hoping he understood what Adar said.

  “Good point.” Adar grabbed Ahmed’s arm and bit him, sending Ossie enzymes into his blood stream.

  “What the hell did you do that for?!” Ahmed screeched, looking at the bite mark on his arm.

  “Stop whining! I barely broke the skin. I just needed to give you my enzymes so you can see me and not shoot me or run into me. Can you see me now?” Adar prodded, looking at Ahmed.

  “No, you disappeared. Pretty good technology,” Ahmed said, reaching towards the spot where he last saw Adar.

  “It’s not technology. It’s part of my natural ability,” Adar said, dodging Ahmed’s attempt to touch his face.

  “Wait, I can see you again,” said Ahmed, mouth agape.

  “Good, but they won’t,” said Adar, getting up to walk away.

  Adar ran right up to the guards in front of the building and decapitated them using his spear, then wiping the blood off on their clothing.

  Holy shit, that guy is brutal. Ahmed watched Adar finish up his handiwork and creep into the building. Okay, here we go. Try not to get your ass killed saving your family, you James Bond wannabe.

  Leaving his hiding place, Ahmed followed Adar inside. They walked along a dimly lit hallway that stretched down the left side of the building. Devoid of pictures or furniture, it looked abandoned. The floor of rough cement was covered in dust and cobwebs. They approached a set of double doors on the right that led to a large room with about 15 people sitting around a long conference table. Adar entered and started killing people with his blaster. Ahmed dashed into the room after him, firing away.

  Two remaining soldiers threw up their hands.

  “Ahmed, tell them I’m going to beat them to death unless they fight me. If they beat me, they can go free,” said Adar uncloaking, putting down his blaster and spear.

  Ahmed translated Adar’s challenge, and in response, the two large men laughed.

  “Looks like we got ourselves a fight,” said Adar, leaping at them.

  The fighters dodged Adar’s fists and shoved him to the ground. The two men took turns kicking Adar across the floor. The alien attempted to roll under the table, but one of the soldiers grabbed him by his foot and slung him against the wall. The other soldier grabbed an AK-47 and started spraying the room. Both Adar and Ahmed ducked under the table. From his lower vantage point, Adar reached out and grabbed the gunman by the leg and broke it into two pieces like a rotten tree limb. Leaping to his feet, he then crushed the screaming assailant’s thr
oat with his boot.

  The other soldier charged the little alien with his double-edged bayonet knife, but Adar stuck out his elbow and using the Arab’s forward momentum, broke his forearm with an audible snap. Adar then shoved the blade into the screaming man’s chest.

  “Why didn’t you just shoot them?” Ahmed asked, his eyes bulging with a mixture of fear and wonder.

  “What would be the fun in that?” Adar replied, smirking. Retrieving his spear and gun he strode out of the room to clear the rest of the building of potential threats. Three men lay in a basement room, asleep in their bunks. Adar slapped them awake. One man attacked Adar with a knife. Adar quickly twisted the man’s head, breaking his neck.

  A second pulled a pistol attempting to shoot the alien, who quickly grabbed the man’s wrist and squeezed it until he dropped the gun. The third man punched Adar in the face knocking him to the ground. Together, the two Arabs pummeled Adar with their fists as he lay on the floor. But the alien managed to brush one of the men to the side, before hopping astride the other one, twisting his head and breaking his neck. The remaining man kicked Adar across the floor, just before Ahmed walked in and shot the man in the head in with his Glock.

  “Good job, Ahmed. I am happy to see you join the fray and not just sit this one out,” Adar commented wryly.

  “It looked like you were having way too much fun for me to jump in, but then at the end, it looked like you needed my help.” Ahmed returned the gun to its holster at his back, not knowing what to think of Adar’s proclivities towards violence. “Let’s go get my family.”

  Adar and Ahmed swiftly and silently killed the two guards in front of the holding area, breaking their necks in near simultaneous motions. They then strolled inside the prison where the alien finished off the remaining guard with one quick thrust of his spear.

  Ahmed hurried to free his family. They sat up from a pallet of blankets against the wall where they had been sleeping, startled to see Ahmed walk in. Ahmed’s wife and two children ran to him, crying and hugging him with joy.