by Ian Williams
“OK, so the next phase of my plan will commence next week. After the weekend, when we have a better idea of how the new design is coping, we will start to replace the rest. This will take a while to complete, so I ask that you remain patient. We will get to you in time.” Mayor Crawley beamed with pride as he readied himself to add one more thing. “Also, I am pleased to announce, I have arranged for the mandatory curfew to be lifted for the next few days too.”
The crowd responded with excited whoops at this announcement.
Turning to the others on the stage behind him, Mayor Crawley ushered one of them forward. The suited man joined him reluctantly at the front. Not all of them appeared to enjoy the lime-light like the Mayor did.
“I will hand you over now to my technical team. They will explain the process and when each region of the city should expect to see the work begin,” Mayor Crawley said, followed by a hearty clap as he stepped back and joined Stanley. The two began to talk between themselves as the nervous man at the front of the stage continued the ceremony. His tone was much duller than the Mayor’s.
For everyone there, the announcement had become something of a lottery all of a sudden. Each time a new area was mentioned a small cheer erupted from parts of the crowd. Conrad watched the display too, eager to see his own part of the city listed somewhere at the top. He continued to do so as his earpiece clicked to life inside his ear.
“Err, Ma’am,” someone said over the radio.
While reading the scrolling list up on the holographic display, Conrad tried to listen in. He pressed his finger against his earpiece to block out the sound of the audience around him.
“Go ahead,” DCS Chalmers replied.
“Yeah, we’ve gotten a few reports of something flashing in one of the windows opposite the stage. Can you see anything from there?”
“Hold on.” The line went silent for a few seconds. “OK, we’re not seeing anything. Which floor is it?”
“Someone said they saw it around the twelfth floor.”
DCS Chalmers spoke briefly under her breath. It was still loud enough for most to hear through their earpieces. “Fuck’s sake,” she said. “OK. I need two people to the twelfth floor in the building opposite. Give it a quick sweep, check it out and report back.”
The situation sounded to Conrad to be in control, he had no desire to get involved. He intended his last day as an officer of the law to be a quiet one. The younger officers would cope well enough. He still took a look at the building in question. Whatever had been seen was not as obvious anymore.
Another cheer stole his concentration away moments later. Had his part of town been mentioned? Bollocks! The list had already moved on.
“Right, while that’s being handled, can I have more bodies at the front please. We still have a job to do here.” DCS Chalmers cut the line as soon as she finished speaking.
There’s always something else, Conrad thought. He decided he better be one of those at the front. Showing he gave a slight crap would mean an easier time when having the awkward ‘I quit’ chat later. He walked the side path, passing a few of the other officers still looking out for a mention of their area on the display along the way. Many were totally engrossed and forgetting the job they were assigned to do.
“What now?” Conrad said. Just as he spotted the best position for him to slip into, his wrist computer had beeped yet again. He stopped and checked the name on the screen. There was not an ounce of surprise for him this time when he saw the name Barbara flashing back at him. A small number three to denote the previous attempts she had made also spurred him to finally respond.
Turning his back to the stage – and to the DCS, who had seen him coming and smiled in response – he answered quickly. “Hi, Barbara, now’s not a good time, can I call you–”
“Oh, thank God. I’ve been trying for a while. I didn’t know who else to call,” she replied, her breathing interrupting her words.
“What’s wrong, you sound out of breath?”
“It’s the data coin.”
“Didn’t someone come and pick it up?”
“Yes, but I kept a copy of the encrypted data on my system. I thought you’d want to see, once I’d accessed it.”
“That was very sweet of you, Barbara, but I’m not on the case anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter. Look, I left my system to work on cracking the encryption and it got through it an hour or so ago, so I took a peek. Conrad, I think something is going to happen there.”
“Slow down, slow down. What’s going to happen?”
Barbara tapped at the computer beside her and moments later a file appeared on Conrad’s screen. He pressed the icon to open it and waited as a mess of data invaded his device.
“What am I looking at exactly?” he asked.
“Most of it is corrupted, but I found another program hidden within, like the random code generator. I checked it out and couldn’t get in at first, so I hacked it.”
“Hang on.” Conrad filtered through his newly cluttered wrist screen. There was a lot to get through, and most of it simply appeared unusable. Broken data hung around his display like an elusive spirit; it took a few attempts to move it all aside. Then, a few layers down, he found the program. It was already running.
“Open that program, then just listen.” Barbara said. She linked her computer to his so she could see the same.
He studied it closely. It worried him to simply activate an unknown program on his own wrist device. What if it contained a virus? After a short period of deliberation, he finally plucked up the courage and tapped it with his finger. It opened and went about taking over his screen. For a moment he thought it had screwed his computer up, but then something began to play through the tiny speakers. He held it close to his other ear to listen in.
The voices were nearly lost to a constant interference. They were still clear enough to hear. “Team two, come in,” a male voice said. “The police are on their way. Set the timer and leave. Team four, be ready to go on my command.”
Who were these people talking? They were not using any of the police’s radio frequencies. Even so, their conversation was highly organised, just like his own force of officers nearby. They had structure, a chain of command too. His access to their conversation had come from the data coin, he realised. It had to be the killer-cult. They were there. Conrad had heard enough to know something very bad was about to happen.
After a short while Barbara decided to voice her concern. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were about to do something big. Wouldn’t you?”
“This guy’s just ordered his people away from somewhere. Someone down here saw something in the building opposite, he could mean there.”
“Exactly,” Barbara returned with. “I’ve been listening in on the radio and I thought the same. Conrad, they might be about to try something. You’ve got to tell the others, I can’t get through to them.”
“Christ, they’re here,” he said, as his feet sent him racing forward at full pelt. “Stay on the line, Barbara, I’m heading to the DCS now.” He tried initiating a call first, but quickly met a busy signal. The radios were all jammed with the continuous back and forth traffic too. In the end, he decided to shout at those on the stage instead. “Evacuate the stage immediately.”
Only the closest members of the audience could hear his call, and they had no idea what to do. They looked to him like he was crazy. It was a frustratingly non-cooperative crowd too, as not even one of them reacted to his warning. Up on stage it was no better. They could hear nothing else over the long speech.
Conrad was failing to get to anyone.
“Begin,” the man in charge of the unknown operation said to his own people.
Everyone on stage soon knew of the threat when something moving incredibly fast whizzed above their heads. It was announced a second later over the police radio.
“Shots fired, shots fired.”
“I’ve got to go, Barbara,” Conrad said into his w
rist computer. “It’s already starting!”
The nervous man, half way through his part of the proceedings, jumped back as a loud crack broke his flow. Bits of wood spun up through the air as a quick volley of bullets hit the rear of the stage, but missed everyone on it by a mile. Conrad turned to find the source as his ear was bombarded with a cacophony of panicked voices.
Able to speak above all others, DCS Chalmers burst into action. Conrad saw her leave the front of the stage and begin running down the opposite side to him. “Where are they shooting from, someone speak to me?”
Amid the short attack a void had formed near the front of the confused crowd. As splinters of wood fell upon them, they pulled back, forcing their bodies together and bouncing off each other like human-sized pinballs. Up on stage it had become a frantic race to leave the raised platform, although it was now clear exactly who the unknown men at the rear were. Two of them grabbed the Mayor and were in the process of moving him out of harm’s way. His bodyguards had acted without delay.
“This doesn’t make sense,” Conrad said out loud. While the attention swiftly moved to the building opposite the New City Hall, his became split between that and the stage. The threat appeared to be coming from a sniper somewhere nearby; except one that either would miss a bus from a foot away, or one who had deliberately missed.
It was a decoy, he realised. The real threat had yet to arrive.
DCS Chalmers, and a wave of other officers, pushed through the crowd as Conrad stood eyeballing them in disbelief. They were heading further away from him. She carried on in the direction of the unknown shooter, her hand in her ear and listening in on the team searching the area.
“What’s happening up there,” she said.
The reply was simple, “There’s nobody here, Ma’am.”
“What? Then who’s shooting?”
That was it for Conrad. There were no signs of anyone in the building. He knew it had been for show, possibly a weapon set to fire automatically for the shooter to get away. With the Mayor halfway up the steps of his New City Hall, it now appeared to be under control. Yet something had Conrad worried still. He took the path around the edge of the stage while his radio continued to shout out. All of the chaotic chatter had kept the one person with the answers from getting through. Now he could only watch as it quickly unfolded.
Another order came through to the hidden operatives. “Team four, the target is heading your way. You’re up. Go, now.”
Who were they targeting? Conrad’s mind flashed through a mental list of the people there. Without anything to go on, he eventually fell upon only one possibility; Mayor Crawley. They were not trying to shoot anyone, they were there to grab the Mayor. The killer-cult wanted him.
Conrad took the steps behind the stage as quickly as his feet could carry him, all while the noise behind increased to an almost hysterical barrage. He could see the Mayor ahead, being roughly ushered inside the New City Hall building by his own security detail. No-one could be trusted at that moment, not even them. Knowing the killer-cult had a plan in motion meant one of them could possibly have been compromised too. He was seeing no option but to intervene.
Once through the spinning doors, the Mayor disappeared from site around a sharp corner that took him away from the open lobby further ahead. Conrad followed, desperate to see something that told him he was wrong about it all. The voices in his ear screamed at each other in a succession of loud exchanges. Even the DCS could not be heard through it any longer. The day had taken a turn for the worse and Conrad had been swept up in the madness. He pocketed his earpiece to relieve himself of the distraction.
“What are you doing?” someone said.
Conrad took the corner to find the Mayor standing next to both of his security guards lying still on the floor. Ahead of him stood a single gunman, his face covered by a laughing clown’s face and aiming his rifle directly at Mayor Crawley. He was almost right, Conrad realised; there was more to the plot, except neither of the guards had been involved.
“Stop right there,” Conrad called to the gunman. He had his hand ready on his Taser pistol, but yet to pull it. Sudden moves could escalate matters in seconds.
“Who the fuck are you, old man?” the masked man said.
Mayor Crawley spun around and faced Conrad, sending him a desperate plea in the form of two raised eyebrows.
“DCI Conrad Robinson. Drop the weapon and let the Mayor go. You can’t go anywhere.”
“Wrong, Conrad.” The masked man nodded, his order unspoken yet effective.
Shit, didn’t watch you’re six, old man, Conrad thought as someone forced a sack over his head. He struggled to remove it, could feel himself begin to bite the material. It was no good, he had been outmatched in both strength and agility by his adversaries.
Mayor Crawley called out as the same was done to him. Within seconds both he and Conrad’s screams were reduced to nothing more than muffled noises as they were dragged away.
Conrad could hear his kidnappers talking as he fought against them.
“What are we doing?” one of them said.
“We’re taking them both.”
“But he only wants the Mayor,” another chimed in with.
“It doesn’t matter. We can use him too.”
Use me for what? Conrad had to guess. His blacked-out world continued despite his best efforts to stop it. He kicked out in a panic, only to find himself losing his balance instead. All he did with each attempt was cause himself pain. The more he lost his balance, the more the pressure applied to his throat increased during the struggle.
With his device still eavesdropping, Conrad could hear the unknown man’s voice speaking to his people again. “Team four, come in. Do you have him?” the man in charge said.
One of the men replied, his voice repeated by Conrad’s wrist device a moment later. “We have him, sir. Leaving now.”
He could only imagine what terrors awaited, where these psychopaths were taking them. At least the Mayor was not to be alone.
Chapter 16
Cruellest intentions
3pm, Friday: 9 hours until Switchover
Phoenix awoke to a high-pitched squeal from somewhere in the room with her. As she slowly opened her eyes, she was careful not to look directly into the large, round light shining down upon her. The heat coming off of it meant it hung only a few feet away. It was certainly not that way to help her see, but for someone else. So far that person, the one who had now become her number one enemy, had not shown himself. The noises nearby suggested that was soon to change.
Realising she had been moved and was no longer lying in a heap on the floor where she had fallen would have been a good thing, if not for the fact that she had no idea where she now was. Looking past the light, she could see the same ceiling panels as before. It was part of Anthony’s building still. That was good, or at least a start. As for everything else around, she struggled to make it out through the bright, halo-like glare of the lamp.
Wherever she was, she knew it was not safe.
Still the odd sound continued somewhere nearby. It had not moved any closer. Yet its constant tone filled her with dread. To locate the source, she tried to turn her head to the right. She could not move it far, something held it in place. While the numbness hung around like a bad migraine, she fought to feel what prevented her movement. Something was attached. Pushing her head up from the hard surface beneath her proved equally as tough. It had to be a strap of some kind holding her down.
“Hello,” she called out while her muddled mind obsessed over the sound. Something about it had her desperate to see.
Enough was enough. Pulling her arms up, she went to remove the strap. Again she felt resistance. She was horrified to see them lift barely an inch off the surface before they too were stopped. In the bottom of her vision, she could just about see the brown leather cuffs around her arms – the type that prevented a troubled individual from hurting themselves. The same were around her ankles. She was locke
d in place, attached to what she worked out to be a metal medical bed.
It was now time to panic.
“Shit, shit, shit.” She tried one last time to test her restraints. They were not budging. What do I do, what the hell do I do?
She angled her head toward the shrill sound – what had come to resemble the whirl of a tiny little motor. This time she could feel the strap as her head slid against the leather. The sedative had begun to wear off. With the room standing on its side, she tried her best to see across the room. Sweat soon blurred her vision.
Beside her were more beds, of which one appeared very much in use. She could not see much, but what she could was unmistakable – and terrifying. A man with his back to her, worked away on something lying on the furthest table. His back arched as he concentrated hard. Something in his hand appeared to be making the high-pitched noise. It sounded like it was under stress too, as each time he leaned in, it intensified. A puff of smoke escaped across his shoulder after the last.
Her eyes slowly progressed down the length of the table. When she saw legs at the end, lying flat in front of the man, she stopped instantly in horror. The table rocked, flicking the unknown patient’s feet to the side.
She did not say a word or allow herself to react in any way. This isn’t happening, it can’t be, she thought as her mind turned to finding a way out without alerting the man to her awake state. Calling out a moment ago had put her at huge risk. She would not make that mistake again. Luckily it appeared the noise of the man’s work had covered her for now. He was so engrossed he had failed to notice her moving about. She hoped to keep it that way for as long as possible while she tested the strength of her cuffs.
The whining sound soon began to wind down, then it stopped entirely. When the man stepped away from the table his work was there for her to see. The two holes in his patient’s temple would have caused a tremendous amount of pain if he had been awake. But where was the blood? The body was not bleeding from the holes. The man had been performing a grotesque operation on a dead person. She could think of no reason why someone would operate on the already deceased; practice maybe?