“You haven’t got the guts. Everyone knows you’ve gone soft. Turned civilian.”
“Oh yeah?” Acid replied. “Try me. After what you did, I can’t wait to start.”
The old woman scowled at her. “We did nothing you didn’t deserve.”
“You killed my mum. An innocent, sick woman. She didn’t even know her own name, never mind who I was. What was the point?” The exertion of the speech had her pressing the knife blade down hard. A small bead of dark crimson ballooned out from the thin skin next to Doris’ eye.
“We had to send you a message. After what you did. Surely you didn’t think you could take out three of Caesar’s best operatives and expect no fallout.”
“Was it your idea?” Acid whispered.
She’d suspected as much. From the moment she’d met them sixteen years earlier, she’d always had Doris and Ethel pegged as particularly ruthless people. Coming from someone with well over three hundred kills under her belt, that was saying something.
Doris stared forward. Didn’t answer.
“It was my idea,” Ethel said with a sneer.
Acid straightened. “I see. And there was me thinking you were the least heartless of the two of you.” She turned, tracing the knife along Ethel’s loose jawline. “So while you’re in such talkative spirits and spilling the proverbial beans, why don’t you tell me where I can find Raaz?”
The old woman opened her mouth to speak when a dull buzzing noise emanated from the pocket of Acid’s leather jacket.
Ethel eyeballed her. “You going to answer that?”
“Ignore it,” Acid spat. “You were saying?”
The phone continued to vibrate noisily in her pocket. It was a new burner phone, meaning the caller was Spook or The Dullahan. Meaning she really should answer it.
Shit.
She stood, pointing the knife at the women. “Hold that thought, ladies, okay? Back in a tick.”
She walked between the two chairs over to the far side of the room and pulled the phone from her pocket. Caller ID blocked. But that was normal. She tapped answer.
“Hello?”
“Acid, I’ve found her.” It was Spook. Though her voice was an octave higher than usual. She was also breathless.
Acid glanced at the backs of the Sinister Sisters’ heads. “Found who?” she asked. “I am kind of busy, kid—”
“Raaz, of course,” Spook gasped. “I infiltrated an email she sent to Magpie Stiletto last week. An image file, with a message encoded in the metadata. Same as before. But this time she forgot to mask her IP address in the source file. I’ve been tracing it all week. And now I’ve found her.”
Acid considered the news. Spook’s skills were certainly impressive, but something felt wrong. “That’s good work,” she started. “Thank you. Once I’m done with the Ugly Sisters here, I’ll be home and we can discuss how to move on her.”
“No, Acid, you don’t understand,” Spook went on. “I’m here now. About five minutes away. There’s an underground bunker set up in the middle of a forest a few miles outside of Epsom.”
Acid chewed on her bottom lip, seething with a silent rage that threatened to knock her out of balance. She’d been managing her moods well recently, eating properly, exercising. But it didn’t take much for the chattering bats of her hypomania to bubble up in her system. Hearing things like this didn’t help.
“We discussed this, Spook,” she replied through gritted teeth, aware that the Sisters were listening. “I told you not to do anything without talking to me first. And you agreed.”
“I know. But I thought if I can get to Raaz first, maybe I can make her see.”
“See what?”
“That helping us can benefit her. If she gave us Caesar and Magpie, couldn’t you spare her life?”
“Spook, don’t do this,” Acid told her. “It’s dangerous. She’s not who you think she is.”
“She’s a techie,” Spook said, that worrying tone in her voice. Like she knew better. Like Acid wanting Raaz dead was somehow an affront. “I get that she’s part of the organisation, but she didn’t kill your mum. She wasn’t there that night.”
“She set it up. She’s as guilty as any of them. Plus, let me remind you, she was the one who sent all those people to kill you. Myself included.”
“Yes. But you didn’t.”
“So?”
“So, people change. You changed. Why can’t she? Let me talk with her. I’m here now. Please, Acid. It’ll be fine. I’ve got this. Trust me.”
“Spook,” Acid rasped. “I’m serious. Do not do this.”
But the line was dead. The kid (clearly getting a little big for her boots) had bloody well hung up on her. Acid stared at the phone for a moment, then let out a compressed scream that remained in her chest. Her first thought was to leave the petulant fool to her fate. Let her deal with whatever consequences were coming her way. But even as the notion swam across Acid’s awareness, a deeper part of her was already preparing to leave. Spook had a good heart, and she was becoming a useful ally in Acid’s search for those who’d betrayed her, but she was still naïve. If Raaz’s location was discovered so easily (and yes ‘easily’ was a relative term, but to a fellow hacker like Spook it was easy), then something told her that was a problem.
She looked down at the surgical knife still gripped in her fist.
“Shit. Shitting bastard hell.”
She couldn’t enjoy this now. Not with Spook in danger. In front of her, the Sinister Sisters seemed to grow a little in stature. Acid imagined their faces. The prim ‘told-you-so’s’ of their exchanged glances.
No.
Wasn’t happening.
She flung the surgical knife over her shoulder. Then, as she strode towards the women, she slipped a Glock 17 from out of her waistband. Without missing a stride she shot them both in the back of the head, killing them instantly. Nowhere near as much fun as she’d planned. As the Sinister Sisters slumped forward into their sizeable bosoms, Acid was already out the door and calling a new number.
The Dullahan answered in one ring. He always did. “It’s me,” Acid told him. “I think Spook’s in trouble. Can you trace a call for me? My usual line, just now.”
“Aye, shouldn’t be a problem.” The old man sighed. “Give me twenty minutes.”
“Thanks.”
She hung up and ran along the short landing to the stairwell. A few miles outside of Epsom, Spook had said. A forest. Acid looked at her watch. It was seven minutes to seven and it looked like she was going to Epsom. Not what she had planned this evening. But wasn’t that always the way.
Three
In Spook’s head the plan was going to work like a dream. She’d confront Raaz. Reason with her (one computer genius to another). Explain to her in no uncertain terms how she understood her predicament. There weren’t many high-end jobs out there for female techies, even in this day and age. So she really did empathise with her taking the job at Annihilation Pest Control. She got it. It was an exciting job. A way to utilise new skills and develop existing ones. And didn’t all hackers have a foot in both camps of justice and corruption, anyway? Hacking was a grey area, always had been, but that was the way it was. Spook knew that. She’d tell Raaz as much. Once they’d bonded, her plan was to offer her a way out. Give up Caesar and the rest of the organisation and Acid would spare her life.
So when Spook made her way into the seemingly unguarded and unlocked bunker and felt a heavy blow to the back of the head, she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. Although, the feeling did only last a split second, before the world went black and she hit the floor like a rag doll.
“You really are a blight on the world, aren’t you?”
Spook opened her eyes and tried to blink the room into focus. No dice. She tried again before whimpering, “I can’t see.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake. Here!”
Spook jumped as her thick-lensed glasses were thrust onto her face. She leaned back. An attempt to better
take in the sudden rush of visual stimuli, but not easy when you were strapped to an uncomfortable wooden chair. The room she was in was windowless and dark. In fact, the word ‘room’ was a misnomer here, implying some degree of domesticity. Warmth, even. Cold concrete box was a more apt description. Along the wall to Spook’s right were three large shelving units that were stacked high with hard drives, modems and servers. Red and green lights blinked incessantly, flashing in time to their own silent song. Along the wall opposite stood two large desks, laid out in an ‘L’ shape. Spook cast an inspecting gaze over the computer set-up on top. Three monitors, two of them linked and displaying what looked like a secure messaging program. From this distance she couldn’t make out any more than that. The third monitor looked to be running a brute-force attack on some foreign government’s website, the progress metre paused half-way.
A few feet away, standing with her arms folded in front of an open doorway, was Raaz Terabyte. It was the first time Spook had seen her in the flesh and she was surprised how short she was. Five-three at the most. This, along with the plaited pig-tails, hoop earrings, baseball cap and pink Adidas tracksuit, gave her the appearance of a little kid. Made Spook think she’d been right to try reasoning with her. Despite the bling and urban-streetwear, Raaz was a woman of science and math. Not a killer. She didn’t deserve what Acid had planned.
But then Raaz spoke, and all that went out the window.
“You really are a stupid bloody pest, aren’t you?” she snarled in a Cockney-Asian accent. “Spook Horowitz: ace hacker, fucking annoying bitch. Though I guess you must have something about you, to convince Acid Vanilla to help you the way she did.”
Spook struggled at her constraints. Thick electrical tape had been wrapped around her shoulders and the tops of her arms, fastening her tightly to the chair. Her hands were tied behind her back.
“She saw some sense, that’s all,” Spook told her. “Realised she was better than all of you. That she had more to offer the world than killing people.”
“Is that right?” Raaz scoffed. “So how’s that working out for her? Because as far as I can see, all she’s done since she left Annihilation is kill two of my colleagues. Not really stopped the killing, has she?”
“She will,” Spook spat. “That’s the reason I’m here. I’ve got a proposal for you.”
“A proposal?” Raaz walked over and sat on the large leather chair next to her desk. She swivelled it around to face Spook. “Do go on.”
“If you give up Caesar and the remaining members, I’ll make sure Acid spares your life. You could do anything. Go to America. Someone with your skillset would kill it in ‘Frisco.”
Raaz smiled. Nodded to herself. “You’re right. I would. But where would the fun be in that? And I suspect Caesar might have a little problem with me giving him up.”
“He’d be dead,” Spook replied.
Raaz laughed. It was a weird sound, a few octaves higher than her normal speaking voice. Like she was trying it out for the first time. She halted and, still sitting, walked her chair over to Spook.
“You’re wrong by the way,” she whispered.
“Acid’s going to find Caesar. With or without your help.”
Raaz shook her head. “Not what I meant. You’re wrong because that isn’t the reason you’re here. The reason you’re here, you dumb fucking bitch, is that I lured you here. You really think I’d be stupid enough to leave my IP address unmasked?”
Spook swallowed. “Oh.”
“Oh. Exactly. So don’t start with your pathetic nonsense.”
“What are you going to do to me?” Spook gasped, scanning her eyes around the room.
“You’ll find out soon enough,”
“You’re going to kill me?”
“Not me. Not Caesar either. We’ve got much bigger and more lucrative plans for you and your goth girlfriend.”
“Lucrative?”
“Let’s just say there’s some incredibly wealthy people who want to meet you both.”
Spook opened her mouth to speak, but before she had a chance an alarm sounded.
“About time,” Raaz said, getting to her feet and pressing a button on the computer desk. The alarm stopped and Raaz pulled a long strip of black material from out of her pocket. “We have a visitor.”
Spook raised her head. “What’s going on? Who—”
Raaz stepped behind her and pulled the material between her lips, halting any further protestations. She wrapped the gag around her head a few times and tied it around the back. Then, as a faint scuffling noise drifted in from outside, she scurried over to the doorway and held her finger up to her lips before disappearing into another room.
Left alone, Spook struggled again at her constraints, but it was useless. She tilted her head back, tried to scream. Same story. All she could do was sit there and wait.
A minute later a cherry-red Dr Martens sixteen-hole boot appeared around the side of the doorway and Acid Vanilla peered into the room, leading with a large handgun. She saw Spook and did a quick sweep of the space before lowering her aim. Spook glared back at her, shaking her head and opening her eyes wide. As if this would somehow deliver the message.
“Aggg,” she tried, over the thick cotton. “Eeeztrrrrrr.”
“Bloody hell, Spooks. What did I tell you?” Acid cricked her neck to one side. “Where is everyone?”
Spook opened her eyes as wide as they’d go, and strained desperately at the material in her mouth.
“Rzzz.”
“Yes, I know. Where is she? I was expecting trouble.”
Where is she?
The answer to that was a few steps behind her. Spook had seen her creep around the side of the doorway as Acid moved further into the room. She tried again, nodding her head frantically at Raaz.
“Bloody hell, they’ve got some serious kit going on these days,” Acid said, taking in the server units. “I’ll give them that.”
“Asssdddd!” Spook tried. “Rzzzz!”
“Okay, sorry.” Acid leaned down to remove the gag. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Acid! Raaz—”
But it was too late.
Like a shadow, Raaz appeared over Acid’s shoulder and Spook could only watch on helplessly as she plunged a hypodermic needle deep into the side of her neck.
“What the—”
Acid spun around, one hand on her neck, the other going for the gun in her waistband. But Raaz had already side-stepped away from her. Acid stumbled forward, mishandling the gun and letting it fall to the floor. She made to pick it up, but Raaz kicked it away and the momentum sent Acid over on one knee, her whole body visibly wilting as the drug took her over. She glanced up at Spook, opened her mouth, then fell unconscious onto the hard floor.
“Well, there she is,” Raaz said. “The big hero. What a fucking joke.”
That laugh again. Even shriller than before. More menacing. She walked over to the desk and picked up a second syringe, held it up to the light.
“Now it’s your turn,” she whispered, squirting a little fluid out of the end. “Sweet dreams, Spook Horrorbitch, and good luck on the island. You’re going to need it.”
Four
Spook had jolted awake on the plane, knowing straight away she’d excelled herself in the messing-things-up stakes. After being shoved out of the hatch ahead of Acid, she’d spent the parachute ride taking stock of her predicament. Trying to keep her analytical head in play rather than let anxiety take over.
Of course, it didn’t work.
All she could think about as she approached the large green landmass below her were the words that Raaz had uttered before everything went black.
Good luck on the island.
Despite what some of her classmates at the MIT had supposed, Spook wasn’t on the spectrum. Shy, yes. Socially awkward, absolutely. But she understood emotions, understood empathy and sarcasm and cynicism. (Although the more time she spent with Acid, she wondered if it might have been a blessing if she di
dn’t.) Still, she’d mused as her feet brushed the treetops and she’d pulled on the guide-ropes to straighten herself, even an autistic person would have clocked the sarcastic malevolence in Raaz’s voice.
Good luck on the island.
Meaning, you’re going to need it.
Meaning, this was bad.
Very bad indeed.
Now, on the mysterious island (and reunited, thankfully, with a roused and rejuvenated Acid), Spook was able to make a little more sense of their plight. Raaz Terabyte was behind this. And if that was the case, then Beowulf Caesar was behind it too. The only problem was, that made little sense to Spook’s rational mind. He’d had both Acid and Spook exactly where he wanted them.
Why were they still alive?
As if to jerk Spook out of her confusion, a loud gunshot echoed through the humid air. Someone was on their trail. She stuck close to Acid as they ran through the luscious undergrowth. Large leafy plants scratched at her skin, whilst mosquitoes and other creatures she’d rather not think about took tiny bites out of her. It was so hot here under the tree cover. Like being in a furnace. There was no air. Just uncomfortable, sticky heat. The jungle was darker than she’d imagined too, even in daylight. Shards of light cut through the trees at intervals, creating an eerie atmosphere unlike anything Spook had ever encountered.
In front of her, Acid craned her neck around and yelled, “Come on. Keep up.”
“Where are we heading?” Spook gasped. “You got a plan here?”
At least they were moving. Spook didn’t have the best hearing in the world, but the gunfire was getting louder. Whoever it was, they were closing in.
“When do I ever have a plan?” Acid replied. “The plan is to keep moving. We’ll think of something.”
Which would have been all well and good – Spook had been privy to Acid’s on-her-feet-thinking many times since they’d met and she hadn’t let her down yet – but neither of them were counting on the dense jungle suddenly dropping away to leave them teetering on the precipice of a large rock face.
The Acid Vanilla Series Page 51