"Do you see where love has got us Dean? Side-tracked us, into escaping this fucking carnage. I’ll spit on love if this is the battering card! Christ I wish something could blow the fuck out of our blackened planet."
The two pilots of the untagged helicopter were having quite a different type of conversation on their way back to Hanover. Raz and Tavini had continued to extol each other’s fighting prowess and were pumped even higher on the massacre, then when they were actually implementing the bloodshed. Raz turned to David and offered the front-liner a tab of Icerlikx – just one of the performance drugs that most of the MC-Project now consumed on a daily basis. He was desperate to urinate and decided to give his superior a challenge that he knew he wouldn’t refuse.
"I’m bursting to go back-afters Mr Tavini. Are you man enough to sit in the main seat of a Black-Slayer all on your own-some or is that a false bravado on your face?"
Tavini could never resist a challenge to the man the controls of the latest military technology and so he took the hot-seat, after sending Raz away with a playful punch on his back.
He soon became immersed in controlling the powerful Attack-Helicopter and didn’t initially notice the new presence that sat down in the seat next to him. When Tavini turned round the occupant had dropped his black altitude – visor over his face. He started to gauge something was wrong when the much taller occupant spoke to him.
"Leanworld passed on David. That’s good, as things should be. No need now David. No need for you that is. You’ve painted a beautiful tapestry you know – our purgatory on earth. I have loved your work David – thank you."
With that remark Klue’s left-gloved hand gently closed over David Tavini’s right and a piercing scream reverberated throughout the helicopter. Tavini hadn’t felt any pain, but when he had glanced down to where his right hand used to be, he just saw the frozen entrails that a Klue-handshake left as a calling-card. Tavini then felt the pain that the image deserved and as the craft plummeted, the pressure forced him to the floor. Hundreds of images fought for dominance in Tavini’s mindsight vault, but all were wiped by his final recollection. His co-pilot had partially raised his visor to reveal an overlarge glutinous mouth that salivated in the expectation of Tavini’s death. This was to be the last thing that David Tavini saw and just before the flames, the lips enclosed on him to proffer a satanic benediction.
EIGHT
After the massacre on the lower slopes, Feyer had initially sunk into depression. She had carried on with her leadership duties, but nihilism had entered her psyche and she remained quiet in the extreme. At night she would replay the atrocity in her mind over and over again, trying to determine if she and Blackwell could have done anything to prevent the massacre. Once a week had elapsed, she knew that her guilt was unfounded and she started to look at life on slightly more favourable terms. The woman concentrated on where she could relocate her pack. She had witnessed the deaths of over three hundred people in two Goslar killing sprees and after scouring maps of their locale, Feyer had decided that she would move her Avoiders closer to the town of Hamelin. She hadn’t told the others about her relocation plans yet, but she felt that the relocation should take place within the next week. All four Avoiders had started to venture out into the streets of Goslar together now, breaking with the separation logic that had previously been adhered to. As the four walked the cobbled streets on that particular morning, fate was waiting to spin its web.
Danny Seaton had remained in Goslar since the massacre in the market square. He had been placed on a compulsory leave period, after a female Avoider had killed his fellow laser cannon operator.
Boredom had now started to set in and as he aimlessly walked the streets of Goslar, he longed for the day when his MC-Project paymasters would allow him back on active duty. As he kicked the litter in the street, some of the wasted passed him. He idly scanned a few of their faces and after a further batch of four had passed him by, a vengeful look came over him. He had recognised a woman – the killer of his partner!
Seaton was tempted to claim the glory immediately and wipe the four as they walked away, but he decided to adhere to project protocol instead – feeling that this would speed up his return to active duty. He subsequently went into a side-street, turned on his comm.-lynx and contacted his section leader to tell him whom he had just seen.
"I’ve just spotted the female Avoider who took out the Kaiserworth Mr Heston!"
"What is the code setting?"
"Goslar – Area 23. There’s three more with her, two males and one femme."
"Follow at a discreet distance. Don’t let them suss that you’re armed. We want this woman alive Seaton – you hear me alive! No fucking shoot-outs this time – you hear me?"
"That’s crystal Mr Heston. How long until an arrest-squad arrive?"
"They’ll be with you in less than thirty. Start pursuit Seaton. Wire out."
Seaton deactivated his comm.-lynx and then started to follow the four Avoiders. As he threaded his way through the ranks of the wasted he kept looking ahead for Feyer’s headscarf. By fixing her presence, he could account for the others and he was determined that this time his quarry would not evade him. After twenty-five minutes of slow-tracking, he could hear the faint siren of a project security vehicle. This wasn’t an unusual sound to hear in Goslar, but as the vehicle got nearer to his vicinity Seaton’s pulse quickened. His moment had arrived. He had been so long in the back line, just a numbered employee – now they would have to notice him. Seaton didn’t like his pompous line – leader and he was determined to make the arrest himself otherwise others would grab his glory. If that transpired he would remain hidden amongst the ranks of the mundane and Seaton hated mediocrity. He thirsted for the kill.
When the security vehicle arrived at the end of their street the Avoiders broke into two pairs. Feyer and Blackwell ran down a side-street. She had given the order to break, because she knew that the vehicle was patrolling in a systematic fashion, with a quarry in mind. The laboured speed and the surveillance personnel on the roof of the vehicle proved that and subsequently Feyer reasoned that retreat was their best option. The four of them could have played dumb like the wasted souls around them, but the woman realised that she would be on the wanted visual-file, as a second-in-command Avoider. This factor would have been ascertained by the project through scanning the memory-vaults of the dead-heads previously left in Goslar. The others probably wouldn’t have been logged by the project and thus she called for the split to protect her three subordinates. She had told Blackwell to escape with Ludmilla and Matthew Reed, but he had followed Feyer – wanting to share in her sacrificial gesture.
The vehicle registered the split and it accelerated quickly down the side-street. This prompted Ludmilla and Reed to panic and quicken the pace of their retreat from the vehicle. Unfortunately that meant that they raced straight in the direction of glory-boy! Bullet one tore off half of Ludmilla’s face and bullet two-pierced Matthew Reed’s heart. Feyer’s pack now numbered two!
Feyer and Blackwell tore down the side-street, but the security vehicle was on their heels in a matter of seconds. The driver cruelly slowed down to a pace, just a mite slower than the two runners. He kept this up until the pair was boxed down another side-street without any exit routes. Tall three-storey buildings flanked the street on either side and when the pair reached the end of the street, their luck had finally run out. They looked upwards to see a ten-metre high, red-brick wall. Then they turned on their tracks and faced the advancing security vehicle. The pair did have pistols, but these would be absolutely useless against the impregnable surface of the bullet-proof vehicle. Feyer looked at Blackwell and suicide momentarily flickered in her eyes Then a cold voice sounded from the vehicle.
"Throw down your weapons. Your race has ended. Resistance equals death."
The hooded surveillance troops on top of the vehicle added to the dark presence that the pair had felt when the mechanistic, amplified voice had sounded from the vehicle.<
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The wind-screen of the vehicle was tinted to an optimum level and so neither Feyer nor Blackwell could make out the occupants inside. Feyer knew that escape was impossible, but her tenacious spirit returned and she eradicated any thoughts of turning the gun on herself. In a typical show of defiance she hurled the weapon at the vehicle. Blackwell then followed suit.
"Spread yourself scum. A false move releases our trigger fingers."
Feyer and Blackwell did as they had been commanded and when they were face down in the dirt, three of the hooded surveillance crew climbed down from the vehicle to undertake body searches on the pair. All three were male and Feyer wasn’t surprised when they dwelled over her search. The groping fingers were just another sick symptom of their decaying world. The woman had tied the Amethyst necklace that Blackwell had given her to the inside lining of her ragged shirt, but a surveillance officer ripped it apart without a second glance. The gem-stones were thrown aside and when she was allowed to stand after her search was over, she initially tried to reclaim them. A rifle butt to the back of her head put paid to any reclamation and Feyer was hurled into the security vehicle unconscious. The couple were sedated in the vehicle and they were oblivious when they were transferred to a gunship helicopter. The destination of the craft was Hanover – where Blackwell and Feyer would have an audience with some of the American MC-Project cohort!
In the Hanover Designation Wheeler had seen visual glimpses of Feyer’s role in the Kaiserworth demolition. Clancy’s decapitated head had been retrieved and the Memory-Camera vaults of this grisly discovery provided images of the woman dragging explosive material into the building. Other Avoider heads had been explored and Feyer had frequently been visually hallmarked as an Avoider of some importance. Wheeler had first felt uneasy when he saw Feyer’s face and the spirit in her eyes. There was something about her that seemed to convey a presence that was intangible – a factor that set her apart from the other bedraggled Avoiders. The shadow of Klue had perpetually hung over Wheeler, since their first meeting and yet even his satanic presence seemed to momentarily weaken when Jess first saw Feyer on the laser screen. He had imposed a high-priority status with regard to her capture and fate had dealt him the successful completion of his edict, far sooner than he had anticipated.
Levene had also witnessed the laser screening and she had been impressed with the resilience that the woman demonstrated. She had said to Wheeler that the MC-Project could use a woman of such tenacity. Wheeler had initially agreed, although he was more guarded with praise because he wasn’t sure what his secret rein-handler would think. He also saw through Marcia to a level, feeling that it wasn’t just Feyer’s mind that Levene wanted to get inside!
The American division had been devastated by the loss of David Tavini. When his helicopter had failed to return, a massive search was embarked upon and the tangled wreckage was eventually found. Some of the American division journeyed to the site in the vain hope that Mr America would spring phoenix-like from the scene of the crash. As soon as they saw the scattered debris, each of them had to acknowledge the truth – David Tavini was dead and never coming back. Levene and Wheeler had formally identified Tavini’s body. This had been a difficult task, because there had been precious little left to identify. Eventually the pair acknowledged the remains to be those of their former colleague, thanks largely to the distinctive necklace that David had always worn. One bizarre factor that Levene couldn’t account for was the shards of ice that were evident throughout the wreckage. She asked Wheeler about this anomaly, but he hadn’t clarified the matter beyond some vague comments about atmospheric conditions at a higher altitude. Despite his professed ignorance regarding this matter, Wheeler knew exactly what the ice represented. The shards were the same kind of long, barbed splinters that Klue had left behind after their first meeting. The shards were unmistakably his work. Wheeler shivered when the enormity of this act sank home - his satanic visitor had destroyed David. Jess was starting to realise that evil had levels!
Marcia had taken Tavini’s death very hard. She would miss his friendship and the intense S&M sessions that she had enjoyed with him. She had probably felt a form of love for David, albeit a type that had savagery seal the bonding. Levene thrived on deviant sexual practises and Tavini had reciprocated her sting. After four days she came out of her self-imposed isolation and gradually started to feel her way back into front-line work.
Her predatory instincts also returned on a sexual level and when she first saw Feyer on the laser screen a few days later, dark lust tethered her desire. She knew that Wheeler had recognised this factor as soon as she had seen the screen. His eyes had seemed to read her indulgent reflections.
Once Levene heard that Feyer had been captured and imprisoned in the very building where she had a temporary residence, it didn’t take her long to make her first visit. She went alone and found her quarry tied down on an iron prison bed. Feyer had been isolated from Blackwell and the woman scowled at Levene when she made her entrance. The MC-Project woman ignored this factor and took the verbal lead.
"I guess you’re quite a find Feyer! Some of your comrades framed you quite well in their MC-vaults, but you’re much more elfin in the flesh – more enticing shall we say. Sorry about the Spartan accommodation, but I guess this is a palace when compared to the hovels that you usually take residence in! Can I get you anything?"
"Fuck you!"
"I may have had something similar in mind, but let’s not rush things shall we?"
Feyer bristled at Levene’s play on her words. She had hated the image of the smartly dressed project woman as soon as she came into her room, but her insinuation really brought fire into Feyer’s eyes. Levene continued.
"Here we are – two women at opposite ends in the land of opportunity! You with cut knees and a scarred face: me with my ultimate power – cards and selected hand – servants. It’s funny how the dice falls isn’t it Feyer? Funny how you ended up at the begging-bowl end of society with your waspish good looks."
Marcia paused for a moment before moving closer to Feyer’s bed. Her eyes scanned the ragged clothes on the woman as she lay on top of the meagre sheets that covered her bed. She moved within inches of Feyer’s face and spoke in a soft whisper that was untypical of her usual resonant utterances.
"I guess that this is as close as people get to you isn’t it Feyer? After the project’s sojourn to Paris in four days time, we will dip into your mindsight to fathom what really drives you: reveal the real Feyer and the intimacy that defines her spirit. I’ll be a voyeur on the front seat then, but until that moment I suppose that I have to make do with small encounters to staunch my indulgent spirit. I’ve decided to clean you up a bit today and get rid of those fucking awful rags that obscure the waif underneath!"
Levene reached into her shoulder bag and Feyer squirmed uneasily, trying to break free from the thick leather straps that pinned her to the bed. The MC-Project woman ignored her futile resistance and proceeded to take a bone-handled knife from her bag. The blade was very sharp and when Levene raised the knife higher in the air, a devilish smile briefly flickered on her face. This prompted Feyer to speak. Her words still had a tone of defiance, but she was fearful of Levene’s intentions and her voice subsequently lacked power.
"Why don’t you get it over with? One clean stab wound, wipe the blood on the sheets and one more Avoider will be extinguished!"
"I’ve told you Feyer. I’ve come here to tidy you up, not to fucking slaughter you. I’ll show you what the knife is for."
Levene started to pull Feyer’s rags from her and if the material was tougher than she expected, the knife was utilised. In just under a minute Marcia had cut the ragged clothing away, leaving her quarry naked. The black leather straps provided an interesting tonal contrast to Feyer’s pale flesh.
The project woman reached inside her back again and took out some materials that she had brought along for Feyer’s cleansing. As she began rubbing a powerful soap into the pores of Feyer
’s skin, she continued to speak to her strapped-down target.
"I’m going to relax you Feyer. I bet you haven’t been pampered for years. All you have got to do is shut your beautiful eyes and surrender to my touch. This will be therapeutic for both of us you know. I’ll get off by skin-rinsing a beautiful woman and you’ll experience a form of massage that will blow your fucking mind."
Feyer recoiled at Levene’s words and she spat back a riposte.
"I’ve never been a femme-to-femme sexual player. Why the hell should I start now?"
"Lighten up woman! You haven’t got much fucking choice in the matter anyway have you?"
"You know as a woman, that I can easily freeze you off by tightening those muscles and blanking your words."
"You won’t though. At least if you have any regard for your final pack member next door. I can easily make a jewellery-bag out of his scrotum with this knife and I fucking will do if you piss me off by opting for a non-reaction."
Feyer knew that Levene was savage with lust and she could easily imagine the woman taking the knife to Blackwell. One solitary tear escaped from her shut-eyes, as she turned her head tighter into her pillow. Levene saw this reaction and for the first time in years, she felt a form of pity. Her next words were subsequently gentler, being similar to some of the dialogue that she had shared with Saskia Rivette.
The Scream of Feyer: hitching a ride with a suicide bomber Page 7