by K. C. Sivils
The pup nodded.
“Father, you can pass if you want, but it would be good to have another set of eyes and ears.”
“Wouldn’t think of staying behind. There are plenty of reprobates up there who have no desire for redemption. There are a few souls seeking salvation though. I would like to visit with them again.” My friend paused, grinning. “Besides, you might need my fists.”
Sarah was still looking out the window at our booth. She loved to watch people go by in the cold. At the moment, she was mainly avoiding looking at me.
“Sarah.”
I got an icy stare in response.
"I need you to mix with the general female population. See if you can learn anything about what's coming up. What this big score is."
“That’s all?”
“For now, yes.”
I leaned back. I was going to have to have a hard talk with Sarah about Ellie. It would have to wait.
“We meet here tomorrow morning early. Josephson, I want secure comms that will work. Prison to Bones apartment. You and this new informant of yours will work from there. Can you make that happen?”
He nodded confidently.
“Get some rest.”
I watched Father Nathan as he stood and began working the patrons. Joe didn't mind. Father Nathan never pressured anyone or asked for money for the church. He just made sure they were okay. Of course, if somebody needed help, Father Nathan made sure they got it. Sometimes he asked if a customer could help one of his down and out parishioners, but that was it.
Josephson was gone. I figured he wanted to run down his CI quick so he could go talk all lovey dovey with the little blonde he had stashed away back at his home town.
I didn’t care so long as he had everything ready to go in the morning.
Sarah stood by the door, glaring at me. I would neither see nor hear from the minx until the morning. She would spend the night in the inhumanly cold weather roaming the city.
Angry with me.
I waved at Joe as I left. He smiled and nodded before reaching for his comm. He pulled a small tablet out of his pocket and glanced back at me, waiting for me to go.
Probably still thought I didn’t know about his sports book and wanted to keep it that way.
PATROL OFFICERS MOVED out of the way as the stylishly dressed and immaculately groomed Chief of Detectives walked briskly down the corridor. Typically friendly, even to the beat cops, Markeson gave off a menacing air.
Passing the bullpen where the precinct detectives worked, and Inspector Sullivan's team had their desks, Markeson made his way to his office. Pausing only to unlock the door to his office, he hurriedly entered and shut the door behind him. Quickly he removed his custom tailored coat, followed by his suit coat, and hung them on the hat rack by the door.
Sitting down behind his desk in his custom, ergonomically designed chair, he pulled out a small device from his pants pocket and sat it down next to his computer. He booted it up and waited impatiently, tapping his fingers on the desktop. Seconds passed before he could enter his username and password.
He flipped through directories and files till he found what he was looking for. Inserting the device into a port, Markeson typed in a command and leaned back in his chair, waiting.
Next, to the traditional monitor, a 3-D hologram appeared, projecting the results. Not caring about the displayed data, Markeson leaned forward to read the text carefully on the screen.
“Well, I wouldn’t have believed it. He really is James MacAuliffe.
ICE COVERED THE EDGE of retaining wall running around the roof. Patches of bare roof, black in color, showed around the heat exchange units, where the process of creating life-giving warmth leaked enough heat to fight back the ever-present ice.
A ladder led to the roof of the next building, allowing Sarah easy access to move from one rooftop to another. Swinging her leg over the retaining wall of the taller building, Sarah shifted her weight and pulled the rest of her body across. She walked to the edge of the building next to the hoverway below and leaned against the retaining wall, her hands resting on the icy edge.
A line of shadowy darkness moved across Capital City as the sun set for the day. Sneaking behind the wall of moving darkness was the first traces of night fog. Sarah had come to hate the fog. Bad things happened when the fog came.
Sadness filled Sarah as she watched darkness take the city that was becoming her home. It was far from the safest place to make a home. But Sarah knew this town. The urge to roam was as strong as ever at times, but not the urge to run.
Finding Ellie had changed everything. Sarah had pledged to herself she would find her sister and free her. Free her from whatever evil master held Ellie captive. Sarah had simply never thought Ellie would captive in a secret prison.
Confusion swept through Sarah. Tears of deep sadness fell down her face, freezing into ice. Inside rage filled Sarah, causing her to teeter on the edge of sanity. How could Sully leave Ellie behind?
Desperation drove Sarah to turn and run at the closest heat exchange unit. Kicking it relentlessly, Sarah screamed, pounding the casing of the machinery with both fists. A decorative panel with the manufacturer's name popped off from the abuse, catching Sarah's attention. She picked up it and flung it with all of her strength at the retaining wall. The sharp edge pierced the plastisteel wall, burying itself in the tough, durable material.
The violence of the act surprised Sarah. Had the simple piece of metal struck a human with the same force they would have been killed.
Sitting down on the hard, cold surface beneath her boots, Sarah leaned back against the silent heat exchanger. She let the cold wrap itself around her, cooling her rage. Above, the moons Serenity and Persephone made their presence known in the night sky.
"Why Sully? Why did you force me to leave Ellie?"
Closing her eyes, Sarah could see Sully standing before her. His hard face looking down at her, so serious and stern, the cybernetic eye taking everything in, missing nothing. His scar would change color with his mood, becoming redder when angry like he was now.
“You don’t know why Ellie is there Sarah. She may deserve it. Or it might be for her protection. You just don’t know why Sarah. Until we know the answer, Ellie is staying in her dungeon.”
She'd protested. Of course, she had. How could she not? Sarah had even struck Sully. Her Sully.
He hadn't even flinched as if he'd not even felt her puny blow.
"Then there is the not so little fact in my book that your sister attacked you, Sarah. We both know clones can be mentally unstable."
That statement, true though it was, had set Sarah off again. Sully had impassively stood while she'd screamed unintelligible gibberish. When she'd stopped in exhaustion, Sully had spoken again.
“She stays until we can move her to someplace safe. Safe for Ellie and more importantly, safe for you.”
Sully’s tone had ended the battle, leaving Sarah defeated.
Sully had seen to it Ellie was locked up in her cell in the dungeon. He'd threatened both wardens in Sarah's presence. It was evident bad things would happen to them if any harm befell Ellie.
Touching her eye, Sarah noticed the swelling and bruising from the fight was already gone. Once again her genetically engineered immune system had seen to it the healing process finished in a short period of time.
Opening her eyes, Sarah tried to see it from Sully’s view. Ellie had attacked Sarah, just like Sully had said. She hadn’t done it the minute Sarah had entered the secret prison. Ellie had attacked Sarah from behind after the search of the facility was almost done.
“She knew it was me,” Sarah gasped, the shock causing her mouth to fall open.
Tears welled up again. This time the tears were of anger.
“Ellie didn’t even want to know why it took me so long to find her,” Sarah whispered.
Sully had been a bit cold in how he’d dealt with her, but Sarah realized in his blunt way the Inspector was protecting her, lo
oking out for her best interests. Just like he always did.
Ellie had torn into her with the intent to harm Sarah. Somehow the fight was different from the ones they'd had in the past.
Sadness filled Sarah as she realized Sully was right. Ellie was in that horrible place for a reason. Until they learned that reason, Ellie was safe in her prison. In truth, others might be safer because of Ellie’s imprisonment.
The night shadow passed over the roof. As the darkness embraced Sarah and the cold came for her, she stood and walked to the retaining wall. Two good tugs and the sharp piece of metal came out of the wall. Letting it fall to the roof, Sarah looked out over her city.
Lights were turning on as darkness fell. Some were for providing light for workers going about their jobs. Some lights were for the denizens of Capital City as they moved about, either going home or heading out for the evening.
Colored lights called out like sirens of old, luring potential customers in for the night. The fog rolled in, chasing the darkness, obscuring some lights and darkening others. The fog mixed with the brightly colored neon lights, making the siren's call stronger.
It was a dangerous city Sarah realized. But it had just become her home.
SWEAT POURED FROM HIS body like rainwater running off a roof. Typically, Dmitry enjoyed his time in the sauna. It cleared his mind and allowed him to think. Today was an exception.
Jamaal’s death at the hands of Gravestone and the confession of one of his male augmented’s attempt to kill to screws troubled him.
Things were getting out of control. Players he did not know of had somehow become involved. He had no doubt the augmented human had told him the truth. Dmitry knew nothing good could come of mixing computers and humans like that. It stole part of the human soul to become part machine.
Bad business that.
Terrified, the man had still told the truth. For that one reason alone Dmitry had delayed his execution. Delayed it until he could learn who and what was turning his carefully ordered world upside down.
It had to be related to the fights.
The problems had started after Gravestone had arrived and organized the fights. It had been harmless enough in the beginning. Cons with long sentences left to serve or those denied parole were allowed to volunteer for the fights. The winner got parole, and the loser stayed in prison.
There had been no shortage of volunteers. The only criteria was the con had to be in for a non-violent crime.
It all changed with the first death in the ring. Dmitry was sure Gravestone had been behind it. The right dose of the right chemical and abuse to a fighter's body any con could shrug off would kill.
Stunned to have witnessed the death of his opponent, Gravestone had pounced on the hapless victory. There would be no parole for the winner this time. The second death in the ring confirmed Dmitry’s theory.
Sitting in his sauna, Dmitry realized his greed had blinded him. He should have put a halt to the fights before they became too profitable.
At first, it was just the profits from betting. Handsome profits and that was what had blinded the other Kings to what Gravestone was up to. The weakness of other men had helped blind Corona. Gravestone had seduced Corona, and the die had been cast.
It was the match-up between the two victors who had killed in the ring that changed everything. One con was an embezzler and the other a counterfeiter. Hardly a pair that would excite a crowd of fight fans.
Except this fight would be to the death.
Using the prison A.I, Gravestone had sold it like a pay-per-view event. Dmitry had no idea the exact amount of money the fights brought in, but it was more than he could ever spend. More than Gravestone could ever spend and that frightened him.
She'd worked hard to build the fight game up. It wasn't worth risking it. Too much money was at stake. It made sense to take the loss and delay the matches. The fans would come back. Their bloodlust and greed would see to that.
Somebody bigger and greedier was behind Gravestone. Somebody who scared Gravestone and that scared Dmitry. Stone cold sociopaths like Gravestone don’t feel fear.
Then there was the issue of the attempts on the guards' lives that had failed. Why would anyone take a risk like that with an Alliance Inspector snooping around the prison? Why place the regular business ventures that the gangs relied on for their incomes at risk?
None of it made sense. It was bad business no matter how he looked at it.
Josef would not stand up to Gravestone now. Not after Jamaal's death. Dmitry considered his limited options as he stepped under the shower outside his sauna. As the icy water cooled his body, an idea entered his devious mind. Perhaps if he asked this Inspector Sullivan a particular question, one he, Dmitry, had wanted to be answered for a long time, the answer would lead to Gravestone's downfall.
Dmitry smiled as he looked around at the freshly painted walls of the corridor leading back to his cell. He had always liked the smell of fresh paint, and this was no different.
Even if it was prison grey.
WARDEN CORONA PACED back and forth in his office wearing only his undershorts. Lying on the one comfortable piece of furniture in his office was Gravestone, wearing only her birthday suit.
“This is getting out of control. I’m starting to think Dmitry is right. We need to reschedule the fights.”
“Now Dave, we’ve been over this. I can’t cancel. You know what would happen to me.”
“Andrea, make them see reason. I know you lie to me about how much each fight brings in. It makes no sense to risk everything. I have two years to retire. Then I can walk away and live like an emperor!”
Gravestone looked up from the couch. “Only if you live long enough to retire.”
Her emotionless tone stopped Corona. He looked at his lover reclining in comfort on the couch, and his heart nearly stopped. Devoid of any emotion, in her face, her body, even her mannerisms, Gravestone spoke in a monotone.
“If I’m not around to enjoy it with you, you won’t get to retire. The fights are on, as scheduled. There will be no more discussion.”
MARKESON STARED AT the screen containing the history of his new benefactor. It took a lot for the bent detective to resist his penchant for greed. Normally the only thing that could do that was his even greater desire to be alive to spend his money.
"What is it about this prison that concerns you so much, James? Why do you want me to pull Sully off the case?"
Leaning back in his comfortable chair, Markeson considered things for a moment. How could he justify leaving Sullivan on the case long enough to find out what was really going on at Graham? Two murders in a prison aren't a reason to send an Inspector. Murders happen in prison.
And yet the Alliance prison authorities had not only ordered an Inspector to be assigned. They'd demanded Sullivan.
“Somebody wants to shut down whatever it is you’ve got going on up there on Persephone,” he muttered to himself. “Somebody with enough juice to send a loose cannon like Sullivan.”
He smiled as he retrieved his DNA collecting device and pocketed it. With a last glance at the screen, Markeson stood and turned off his computer. Slipping first into his suit coat and then greatcoat, the detective turned off the lights in his office, locked the door and left.
The night was still young, and he was in the mood to enjoy it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“DALE. PLEASE, DALE, wake up. I need to talk to you.”
Corona raised his head up off his desk and glanced about, confused. Nobody was in his office. A glance at his comm set on his desk informed him nobody was trying to contact him.
“Dale. It’s me. Sally.”
Corona stood up and ran his hand through his mussed hair, trying to calm it and bring some order to tangled mess.
“Sally, I’m really tired. Can this wait?”
“No Dale. It cannot."
“I trust you, go ahead and requisition whatever it is you need to fix whatever it is.”
“Da
le, I need to talk to you about Gravestone. You simply cannot trust her. She will betray you to save herself.”
Corona’s gaze fixated on the speaker located on the corner of his desk. He rolled his neck and shoulders from side-to-side as he ground his teeth.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about Sally.”
"Look beyond her physical attributes and the way Andrea uses them to control you, Dale. She only cares about the fights. Nothing else. Why else would she kill Jamaal? You know you need the Kings to maintain order. The Kings make the prison safer for everyone. Don’t let her destroy that!”
“You know about...”
“There isn’t much I don’t know about that goes on within the walls of Graham. I’m everywhere Dale.”
“I don’t know what happened,” Corona admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
“You are tired,” Sally offered, consoling the Warden. "You were given an impossible task. Control the most violent offenders in Alliance space and see to it the inmates and the Correctional Officers are safe? You've done wonders as Warden, and you know it!"
"I've lost who I am Sally," Corona admitted aloud. The moment the words left his lips he knew them to be true. For the first time, he saw what he had lost.
“You can be that man again Dale. Let me help you.”
Corona fixed his gaze on the speaker again, shaking his head.
“I’ve bent too many rules. Let too much go unchecked. All in the name of keeping the peace within these walls. Now it's out of control. These fights, the money, the power, it's out of control. Sally, I don't even know who's behind this. It's not Gravestone. She's terrified something will happen."
“Our blonde psychopath is scared?”
“Sally, don’t call her that,” Corona protested.
The watcher sensed the collection of unusual data streams. Data streams similar to others she'd filed away.
“I will talk to you later Dale. This matter must be resolved.”