by Ethan Cross
In one fluid motion, Ackerman flipped the can upside down and placed his pinky over the can’s release valve. He grabbed Jerry Dunn by the mop of dark hair atop the little man’s head, and then he sprayed the contents of the can directly into Jerry’s eyes, making sure to thoroughly douse each eye with the liquid shooting from the can’s nozzle.
Jerry released a high-pitched wail of agony. He screamed and cursed and rolled and banged his head on the floor.
Standing aside to watch the show, Ackerman explained to Maggie, “I’ve always wanted to try this. You see cans like this are actually filled with a fluorocarbon which is a liquid under pressure that quickly turns into a gas at room temperature. If you turn the can upside down, the liquid is released instead of the compressed vapor. The liquid turns to gas which has a cooling effect, condensing water out of the air and freezing it. So essentially … I just flash froze Jerry’s eyeballs. Does that satisfy your bloodlust, or do I need to cut his heart out and eat it too?”
He looked over at Maggie. She had her hand covering her mouth. Her eyes were wide as she watched Jerry thrash and scream.
Ackerman leaned in close to Maggie’s ear and said, “Stop trying to be like me. Or Marcus. We’re broken men trying to do the best we can with the cards we’ve been dealt. You can be better than us. You are better than us. I can’t begin to imagine what your constant level of fear must be like. I sometimes forget that not everyone finds all this to be so … amusing. I’ll try to be more conscious of that in the future. I’ll work on that along with my communication skills. But remember this. You may not like it, but we’re family now. And wolves protect their pack.”
Then Ackerman calmly walked over to Jerry and grabbed the young man by the sides of his thrashing head. He squeezed until he was sure he had Jerry’s attention, and then he leaned in and said, “And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It’s better to enter eternal life with only one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into the fire of hell.”
With a small smile on his face, Ackerman kissed Jerry on the forehead and added, “You’re welcome.”
*
A woman wearing sweatpants and an oversized REO Speedwagon T-shirt opened the door and said, “Someone best be dead.”
Marcus held up his credentials and said, “Department of Justice, ma’am. And yes, a lot of people are dead.”
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry. How can I help?”
“May we come in, ma’am?”
She introduced herself as Becky Takashima. Marcus knew Becky was fifty-two, but she looked good for her age. She had short blonde hair and a thin physique. The house was dated but had been top of the line to start with and had aged well. Marcus did notice, however, that the newest and most expensive items scattered around the room were speakers of various types and sizes. He supposed she was an audiophile.
Andrew made the introductions and explained the situation while Becky Takashima offered and poured them some much needed and appreciated coffee.
Marcus didn’t see a ring on her finger or even an indentation or signs of one, but given her lack of any kind of Asian feature, he assumed Takashima to be a name taken from a former husband. He said, “Mrs. Takashima, do you know this man?” He showed her a picture on his phone of Bradley Reese. Then he swiped through several other photos, including one of Jerry Dunn.
“I don’t know any of those men.”
“Have you had any strange visitors or seen anyone odd snooping around lately? Anything unusual?”
“Nothing.”
Marcus showed her the picture of Reese again. “You’re sure you don’t know this man?”
She looked hard, took her time, searched her memory. She was trying to be helpful. Marcus could read it all over her features.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
He said, “What about Foxbury Correctional? The prison? Any connections there?”
This time she nodded, happy to be able to contribute, and said, “My engineering firm handled part of the original feasibility study for Foxbury.”
“Does that mean you have some kind of specialized knowledge of the prison?”
“I have the proposed blueprints with our suggested changes on my computer. And some of the maps and files related to Foxbury Mining Company.”
Andrew said, “Back up a bit, why do you have the files at your house?”
“I work from home. But I assure you, my system is very secure.”
Marcus said, “What were you saying about Foxbury Mining Company?”
“That was part of the study. A part of what we had to assess. Some of the mine shafts run relatively close to the site of the prison.”
“I’ve been in that mine. It’s quite a drive from the prison.”
“Driving around the mountain to the mine’s entrance, yes. But as the crow flies, or I suppose more as the mole digs, the mine and the prison are almost overlapping.”
“Why wasn’t the proposal rejected on those grounds? The mine being too close.”
“It was just inside the gray area of the regulations. Actually, the only way it made it through the inspections was because the tunnels actually don’t go under the prison itself, but run under the manufacturing facility. And the section that does is cut off from the rest of the mine.”
Recalling the maps he had seen and the receipt for diving equipment, Marcus said, “Cut off because the tunnels are flooded.”
“Yes, an expansion of the mine’s middle section accidentally struck an underground tributary. A bunch of miners were cut off. It was a whole ordeal. It’s what bankrupted the company and closed the mine.”
Marcus said, “And you have detailed maps that show the mine and what tunnels are flooded and where all the tunnels are located in relation to Foxbury’s manufacturing facility?”
“Yes.”
“Can you show those to me, Becky? Please.”
Becky stood up and said, “Of course. I have a big screen, and I can blow them up for you in my office.”
“Great,” Marcus said. “Go ahead and get the files pulled up and I’ll be right behind you.”
With a nod, she headed down the hall.
Andrew whispered, “You think this is where Judas got his files?”
“For a professional like our guy, her system here at her house isn’t nearly secure enough. He probably learned about the study while gathering intel in the beginning. Then he traced it back here and found a path of least resistance.”
“And the recent visits made here with Reese’s car?”
“Judas was coming back to tie up loose ends. Why Judas used Reese’s car and how that ties in? I don’t know. But I do know that if Becky and her files are still here, then Judas slipped up. He wanted her dead, but something stopped him.”
Andrew nodded. “Which means Judas doesn’t want us to know what she knows. He doesn’t want us to know their escape route.”
“That’s why they needed us out of the manufacturing facility so badly. Judas is going to sneak Lash out through the mine, literally right underneath our noses, and then Jerry Dunn or some other patsy holds us off in a stalemate for who knows how long.”
Andrew pulled out his phone and said, “I’m going to have the sheriff meet us at the mine with a tactical team.”
Marcus smiled. “My thoughts exactly. I’m going to take a look at Ms. Takashima’s maps and plot us a course through the mine. And when Lash and whoever else hits those tunnels, we’ll be waiting for them.”
*
As Ackerman guided Jerry Dunn down the stairs from Powell’s office, he was greeted with gasps. Spinelli was the first to ask, “What happened to him?”
Ackerman dropped Jerry onto the floor beside Winston, who was nursing a broken arm, and said, “See, I told you I was gentle with you.”
Winston backed away from the husk that had been Jerry Dunn. Ackerman supposed that the little man did look pretty gruesome. The fluorocarbon spray had, of course, dispersed not merely into Jerry’s eyes,
but it had also flash frozen the skin surrounding his eyes, nose, and forehead. Essentially, that skin was now suffering from frostbite. It was red and swollen and cracked and bleeding. But the skin would heal. For the most part. Ackerman wasn’t so sure about the eyes.
He didn’t answer Spinelli’s question, instead he asked her, “How are you coming along with retaking your virtual domain?”
“It’s taking longer than I expected.”
“Take as long as you like, but every moment extra is likely going to cost someone their life.”
Spinelli’s eyes started to fill with tears.
Ackerman added, “No pressure though; just making an observation.”
Spinelli said, “I’m going straight to the source. I’m going to review the code on the server.”
Ackerman nodded, and she headed for the hatch leading down to the server room.
Several minutes passed before Maggie limped down the stairs from Powell’s office. Powell and one of the guards immediately ran over to help her. They sat her down and elevated her feet and checked her wounds. He walked over and said, “I’m going after Demon.”
“Not without me,” Maggie replied.
“Let’s not do this the hard way. You’re in no condition.”
“I’m still in charge here. Now, first thing is first,” she said. “How the hell did you beat the system?”
“A magician never tells.”
Powell, who was feeling Maggie’s ribs, said, “Try not to speak, darling. Besides, I can tell you how he did it.”
Ackerman raised his eyebrows and said, “Please enlighten us. But be careful, Warden, I get jealous of people stealing my spotlight.”
Powell didn’t hesitate. He just frowned and said, “He ran the damn batteries out.”
Ackerman said, “That is a gross oversimplification. I realized that the batteries on the restraints couldn’t possibly hold enough power to cook someone like we had witnessed, so that could only be achieved in areas where there is a wireless electricity hub. And as Mr. Powell explained earlier, there is no hub in the control room. It reminds me of something Alexander the Great once—”
Maggie said, “So you shocked yourself until there was no juice left. And Jerry, who was otherwise engaged, was the one who should have been seeing the alerts you were triggering.”
“That was later on. To start with, I hid the electrical discharges in the beatings from Winston.”
“Good work,” Maggie said. “Now, give me a second to get patched up and await further orders.”
“That’s it? Good work?”
“I’m sorry. I’m all out of cookies.”
“I just thought that singlehandedly outsmarting the prison of the future here would warrant a little bit of—”
Powell said, “You didn’t beat the prison. The only way that you were able to bypass the security was because these idiots were at the controls and you’re in an area where residents aren’t allowed.”
Ackerman said, “I could have easily done the same thing with the prison in full swing. It would have simply taken more time to learn the ranges of the magnetic fields in the prison and run down the battery using the mild warnings that don’t trigger alarms.”
“There’s a low power alert that would be triggered.”
“Likely triggered at ten percent power. I would take the jolt of the last twenty-five percent all at once to be safe. Just like I did earlier when I overtook Winston and his comrades.”
Maggie said, “Children. Please. It doesn’t matter. Now, help me up.”
She held out a hand, but Ackerman refused to take it. He said, “You’re staying here. You would only slow me down and get yourself killed.”
“I’m going, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
Ackerman rolled his eyes. “How about this. Powell still has your .357 tucked into the back of his pants. I’m taking that with me because the assault rifle will slow me down. It’s a concealed carry model with only five shots. I’d rather not waste one on you … ”
“You’re saying that you will take that gun and shoot me to keep me from following you.”
“Yes, I would shoot you in the leg.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“Maggie, I would think that you of all people would understand how absurd you sound right now. Me, bluffing.”
“Excuse me!” yelled a deep voice from across the control room.
They all turned toward the man who had spoken. When he had everyone’s attention, Winston continued, “You might as well not shoot each other. There’s no point in going after Mr. Lash. He’s already long gone.”
*
Demon checked the time. His watch face morphed from digital numbers into tiny centipedes. He looked away for a second and back. Now, the time showed 12:00 a.m. But he knew that wasn’t right. He usually didn’t have to concentrate quite so hard to dispel the visions, but lack of sleep had always aggravated his condition. He looked away again. He closed his eyes. He looked at this watch. This time, it showed him the correct time of 7:04 a.m.
The plan, which he had helped Judas design, called for the floor of the old storage room on the far side of the manufacturing building to implode at 7:00 a.m. Not 7:30 a.m. or 7:05 a.m., but 7:00 a.m. sharp.
Judas was punctual and obsessive to a fault. There was no way he was late, which meant he was making a statement. Somehow Judas knew Demon was here waiting for him. The question was whether Judas was willing to sacrifice Lash and all the money he was paying their organization. Demon hoped his young apprentice wasn’t that far gone. Maybe there was still a chance they could work things out.
An old woman’s voice over his shoulder said, “Kill him. He betrayed us.”
But Demon, or at least the majority of him, didn’t share that sentiment and hoped for reconciliation. After a bloody and painful revenge and punishment was enacted of course.
It wasn’t merely out of attachment that he wanted to forgive Judas. He also hated the thought of training another replacement. He had invested thousands of man-hours into his apprentice, and just as that investment was about to pay off, the little bastard went and fell in love.
That was, of course, something that Demon couldn’t allow. So he had taken steps to remove the obstacle. But instead of sticking to the plan and offing Debra quietly, the kid went off on a tantrum. Hopefully, a spanking would be enough, and Demon could get back to his true life’s work.
A shrill child’s voice said, “You’re weak and pathetic!”
Demon yawned and was about to check the time again. He figured that if Judas were trying to make him sweat, then the delayed blast would come on a time ending in a five or zero. 7:05. 7:10. 7:15. That was the way Judas’s obsessive brain would set the timer.
Then, at what Demon guessed was 7:05 a.m., the floor made a thump and rumble and a four-foot-by-four-foot section fell away into the darkness.
“I thought your guy was always on time,” Lash said.
“Don’t worry, sir. You’ll be sipping mai thais and plowing super models in a non-extradition country before the cock crows another time.”
“For as much as the cause is paying for your services, I should expect nothing less.”
“The ULF is more than getting its money’s worth. And everything is going according to plan. As evidenced by the tunnel that just opened up in what was once touted as the prison of the future. The most secure, non-violent correctional facility ever built. And you wanted to break out of it without anyone knowing you were gone.”
“I wouldn’t exactly say things have gone according to plan. There weren’t any federal agents in the plan. And, not that I’m not graced by the presence of the legendary Demon, but I thought you just brokered the deals and helped with planning. From what I hear, you never get your hands dirty anymore. Makes me ask what went wrong that brought you down into the trenches. Makes me wonder what you’re not telling me.”
“It’s good to get out and stretch your legs now and again. You know, make n
ew friends. See new places. Start a bloody prison revolt and slit some throats. It keeps me young and feisty to get my blood pumping once in a while.”
Lash jammed a finger into Demon’s chest and started to speak. He didn’t finish a single word. Demon grabbed Lash by the wrist in a vice like grip and, with his other hand, he expertly dislocated the ULF leader’s finger.
Lash screamed, and the other three men with him stopped what they were doing and raised their weapons.
Demon ignored the others and looked deep into Lash’s eyes. “Business is all about respect and reputation. I built those two things in some of the darkest corners of the world. People respect someone who can get things done and provide exactly what they promise. We were contracted to get you to freedom. The contract made no promises about federal agents or time schedules. And it bloody well didn’t say that I have to let you treat me like some common thug.”
Demon popped Lash’s finger back into place and said, “Now, I respect this whole Black Moses meets Osama Bin Laden thing you have going, so why don’t you stick to that. And I’ll do what I do.”
Lash cradled his hand and flared his nostrils. But after a moment, he gestured for his men to stand down. Lash said, “Get back to work on that rope.”
His men eyed Demon cautiously but followed orders. Within a minute, they had secured a homemade rope fashioned from bed sheets and dropped it into the pit.
Demon walked to the edge of the hole. It traveled straight down for several hundred feet. They had commissioned a team from Chile to dig it out from the bottom up. It actually hadn’t cost as much as he had thought. The only obstacle had been getting the equipment past the flooded tunnels. They had been forced to pay someone to disassemble and reassemble all of the equipment manually.
This job had been a nightmare from the start. If the ULF hadn’t already been a loyal client, Demon would have turned it down at the onset.
Lash shined a light down the shaft. The Chilean team had set up metal rungs for them to climb down, but they, of course, couldn’t reach all the way up because there had been several inches of concrete in place only a few moments prior, which necessitated the makeshift rope to reach the first rung.