Grey Sky Blues_An Inspector Thomas Sullivan Thriller

by K. C. Sivils

  Sarah’s eyes followed the silver-grey pin stripes of his dark navy suit down to his shoes. Scuffed, black leather shoes. Common. Inexpensive but durable.

  Like the ones Father Nathan wore.

  The conversation ended, the taller of the two men looked up, his eyes focusing directly on Sarah. His gaze left her with a sense of hope. If Father Nathan was here, Sully couldn’t be too far away.

  The priest smiled and nodded at Sarah. Casting his gaze down at the bottom of the ring, he looked back up at Sarah, making eye contact again. He looked down a second time and just as quickly made eye contact a second time. Sarah leaned over, straining to see what Father Nathan was trying to show her.

  Standing up against the barrier staring at the guard trying to make him return to his supposed seat was Sully, stone faced and silent. The guard could talk all he wanted. Nothing short of physical violence would move Sully when he had that look.

  Sarah heard the ring announcer shout his final banter and the bell rang. She looked at the hulking giant who served as the referee. He motioned for the two of them to meet in the circle of the ring.

  The fight had begun.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  ELLIE WASTED NO TIME pressing her attack. Sarah moved deftly, circling away from her adrenalin crazed sister. Cutting the ring in half as if she was an experienced fighter, Ellie lunged for Sarah, landing an elbow to the head. Reeling from the blow, Sarah backed away.

  Squinting to focus, Sarah didn’t see the knee to her abdomen. Unable to maintain her balance, Sarah went down, landing on her back. Ellie pounced, straddling her sister she rained blows down on Sarah's face with her elbows, splitting Sarah's porcelain cheeks open.

  The need to catch her breath stopped Ellie's flurry. Sarah desperately struck Ellie in the chin with what energy she could muster. The blow caught Ellie on the button and stunned her, allowing Sarah to roll out from under her sister. Both women staggered to their feet and faced each other like wary animals.

  First blood drawn, the crowd grew electric. The novelty of watching two sisters fight and bleed was something new to feed their lust for cruelty.

  “I don’t want to do this,” Sarah announced.

  “I really don’t care,” Ellie growled back.

  Sarah backed into a corner and waited. She watched as her sister panted heavily as a result of the blows she’d inflicted on Sarah.

  “Too much sitting down in front of a computer screen, Sis,” Sarah taunted. Ellie charged on command. Sarah sidestepped her out-of-control sister, letting Ellie slam into the corner post. Stepping in behind, Sarah launched a series of left, right jabs into Ellie's kidneys.

  Stepping back, Sarah could hear Ellie fighting to draw a single breath, the pain of the kidney punches making it difficult for her to function.

  “Sis, I don’t want to do this to you.”

  “Well, I want to hurt you,” Ellie answered between deep breaths.

  The fight continued, each sister landing blows on occasion and trading verbal barbs with one another. When the single gong of the bell sounded, Sarah felt relieved. Sitting in her corner, a cut man climbed into the ring to wipe her face down and close her cuts using a mix of cold and foul smelling ointment. He offered no encouragement and was gone as soon as he finished his work. Someone poured water over Sarah's head and handed a glass of lukewarm water to her. She tossed out of the ring, not caring where it landed.

  “Sarah!”

  She looked down to her left. A worried Sully had finally made it to ringside.

  “I can’t do it. I can’t kill Ellie,” Sarah sobbed, tears rolling down her still bloody cheeks. “I thought I could, but I can’t!”

  “Choke her out. Sell it.”

  “What?”

  “Choke her out. She just needs to look dead long enough for me to get in the ring.”

  Two guards grabbed Sully, one on each arm, only to be shrugged off by the bigger, more powerful man. He took a single step back from the ring and stared the two guards down, forcing them to retreat.

  “I thought so,” Sarah heard Sully mutter right as the bell rang.

  Standing up, Sarah moved cautiously towards her sister. What Sully told her made sense. Unconscious, Ellie was no threat to anyone. The referee would have to step in to determine if the kill had been made. The arena would be in a state of bedlam.

  Sully’s right. Just sell it.

  Ellie began her circling approach again, looking for an opportunity to launch another attack.

  “You know,” Sarah shouted at her sister, “I’ve had about enough of your pity party. You’ve been safe inside. Eating three meals a day. THREE MEALS A DAY! Protected!”

  “You call my life easy?” Ellie shook her head in disbelief.

  Sarah launched her attack, kneeing Ellie in the left kidney, nearing doubling her sister over. Following up with an upper cut, Sarah stood Ellie up. Two quick jabs to her sister’s face produced a flow of blood from Ellie’s nose. Aiming for a spot on the other side of Ellie’s head, Sarah stepped into a right hook, following through as she rotated her hips and forearm.

  The blow staggered Ellie. Sarah followed up with another knee to the kidney and a pair of jabs. Sensing the end was near, the crowd leaped to its feet and roared, producing a muffled sound Sarah was only vaguely aware of.

  Pain drove Ellie to attack. Catching Sarah off guard, Ellie landed another an elbow to her face and drove her knee into Sarah’s kidney. Tangled, both sisters went down. Sarah rolled over onto Ellie’s back, receiving an elbow for her efforts.

  Gasping for air, Sarah realized something felt odd about the blow. She grabbed Ellie’s elbow and squeezed, feeling the steel plate beneath the long sleeve of her sister’s garb.

  A mist of red filled Sarah’s vision. Reason left her as she bit at the fabric of Ellie’s black outfit. Tearing the cloth like a predator would tear flesh, Sarah ripped the sleeve open, revealing the metal plate inside. Yanking it from the sleeve, Sarah stood quickly and backed away from Ellie, holding the device out for the crowd to see.

  Boos filled the air along with cries of "cheater" and "finish her."

  Ellie only smiled.

  "You didn't think I would fight fair, now did you, sis?"

  “ONE MINUTE TILL WE land, sir.”

  Markeson stood up and faced the officers in the back of the shuttle.

  “Does everybody know the plan?”

  Silence combined with nods answered his question.

  “These maps are old. Outdated from when this was a mining complex. No doubt this place has been modified for the illegal fights. Be alert.”

  The detective paused to calm himself. The last time he’d led a raid it had ended with him in the hospital.

  “Set your phase weapons on stun. Knock ‘em down and arrest them later. Nobody leaves. Nobody gets off the hook. Confiscate everything. Bag it for evidence. Sort it out later.”

  A hard jolt announced the craft had landed. Hissing sounds indicated the airlock had attached and was cycling. Markeson glanced back. All of his officers were standing, the expressions on their faces varied. Some were hard, other's devoid of motion, and still other's filled with fear.

  He understood how they felt.

  The outer lock cycled, and the shuttle door opened. Markeson was the first through followed by Josephson. In seconds the shuttle emptied except for Bill, the C.I. who watched from the door. Hissing sounds again marked the cycling of the air lock followed by a loud sucking sound as the door opened, allowing the law officers to pour through.

  I’VE BEEN IN PLENTY of fights. Witnessed even more. They can be terrifying. Sometimes they’re exhilarating.

  Never saw a fight that left me feeling so numb, watching Ellie try to kill Sarah.

  The revelation Ellie had been knowingly armed by the warden’s stirred my own bloodlust.

  Sarah was in better shape than Ellie, and it was starting to show. I'd taught the little minx a few dirty tricks, and she used them.

  By the third roun
d, the crowd had turned. Infuriated the fight might have been fixed, those who had bet on Sarah were screaming for the kill. Like predators circling wounded prey, the crowd sensed the fight had turned. The metallic coppery scent of blood was in the air.

  Ellie sensed the crowd had turned on her. It frightened her. I knew it. She knew it. Sarah knew it.

  Sarah had to finish the fight this, the third round. They would both be armed in the fourth round. I didn’t care if Ellie lived or died by Sarah’s hand. If I was going to get Sarah out of that cage, it had to end this round.

  Enthralled by the fight, my would-be guards had forgotten about me. I looked back for a last glance at Father Nathan and Dmitry. The King had a broad smile on his face and nodded, encouraging me.

  I sensed he was enjoying what would be the downfall of his lords. Dmitry didn’t care what it was going to cost him personally. He just wanted to see things burn.

  I was going to see to it Dmitry got his fire.

  THE BELL SOUNDED, ANNOUNCING the start of the third round. Corona watched in horror as his prize asset backed away from Sullivan’s assistant. It was obvious who the winner would be. The Sarah clone was fit, dangerous and obviously the more experienced fighter.

  It was equally obvious the Sarah clone had gotten over any reservations about killing her sister Ellie.

  A knock sounded, announcing the arrival of a messenger. Corona motioned for the woman to approach. She handed him a note and waited for his response. The Warden read it and pocketed the piece of plasticard.

  “You may leave,” he said softly. “And by leave, I mean leave.” Corona gave the woman a knowing look. She nodded her understanding and vanished silently.

  “Andrea, something has come up that I must attend to. I will be back for the start of the afternoon fight card.”

  Infuriated Sarah had revealed Ellie had been equipped with a weaponized costume Gravestone focused on watching Sarah circle Ellie to finish the fight.

  “Go. Do whatever,” she replied, not turning to look. Corona offered a polite bow to the bored MacAuliffe. “I will see you later, James.” The disgruntled elitist didn’t even bother to acknowledge Corona’s farewell.

  "Your little plan went awry, did it not," he mused, enjoying watching Gravestone fume. It was the first bit of pleasure he’d had all day.

  Neither cared Corona was gone.

  But then, neither knew what the message was Corona had received.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  SARAH CIRCLED ELLIE. Their roles in the fight reversed. Sarah was the aggressor now; the predator and Ellie sensed it.

  “This is on you,” Sarah said grimly. “I won’t lose one minute of sleep when you're gone."

  “Yes you will,” Ellie frantically responded. “You came all this way to find me.”

  “Let’s think about that for a second.” Sarah snapped out a right jab that slipped through Ellie’s guard and stung her.

  “You attacked me when I did find you.” Another jab landed. "You wouldn't listen to reason when I came to explain to you." Ellie threw a wild left hook. Sarah caught Ellie's fist with her left hand. Grabbing Ellie's upper arm, Sarah used her teeth again to rip open the black sleeve and let the metal brace fall out.

  “You cheated.”

  “They made me,” Ellie snarled in fear, freeing herself from Sarah’s grasp. “I’ll bet you have a weapon or two you shouldn’t!”

  “I do,” Sarah answered. “In my boot. But I didn’t use it.”

  Sarah’s face grew darker, like a horrific storm crossing the plains of Beta Prime. Ellie sensed the final attack was coming. Frantic, she lashed out at Sarah who blocked the blows with ease and matched them in a fit of fury. Sweeping Ellie's legs out from under her, Sarah dove on Ellie. Turning her sister's back towards her, Sarah looped her right arm around Ellie's neck. With Ellie struggling like a wild animal Sarah struggled to get the crook of her elbow in position.

  Locking her arm in the hold, Sarah slammed Ellie’s head on the ring floor once, twice, a third time, stunning her sister into submission. Grasping her own wrist with her left hand, Sarah slowly decreased the supply of oxygen to Ellie’s brain.

  Eye’s bulging, Ellie, clawed in desperation at Sarah’s forearm. She kicked the floor of the ring in a futile effort to roll over and escape. Growing weaker by the second, Ellie's struggle became more pathetic until finally, she lay still.

  Sarah touched the middle and forefinger of her left hand to the notch in Ellie's neck. There was still a pulse. Faint and thready, but still there.

  Standing slowly, Sarah kept her gaze fixed on her comatose sister. For the sake of the audience and the referee, she launched a vicious kick to Ellie’s ribs.

  Numbness spread through Sarah as her acute senses shut down for the moment. Shocked by what she'd done, Sarah looked out at the silent crowd. Looking back down at Ellie, she felt sick, like she would vomit at any second. In the back of Sarah's mind, she imagined Sully's voice, telling her to sell it.

  It was the only way they would survive.

  Snapping her head up, Sarah let out the roar of a feral predator, claiming her kill as she threw her arms up in triumph.

  Delighted, the silent crowd answered in kind.

  I HAD SECONDS IF THAT. I jumped the barrier and climbed up to the entrance of the cage. It opened easily, and I stepped into the ring.

  Noticing me, the referee, suspicious something was wrong, moved away from Ellie’s body with a look that implied I was not long for this world.

  I let him look down the barrel of my .50 caliber, and he changed his mind, stepping away. I motioned for him to move to the far corner. I hurried to Ellie's body and with my left arm lifted her torso up so I could get her over my shoulder.

  Sarah was standing on the ropes, roaring defiantly at the crowd. I laughed at the absurdity of it all. Only the referee had noticed my presence.

  For good measure, I aimed at the referee a second time. He raised both hands, palms outwards.

  “Wise man,” I told him.

  “Hey, you!” I shouted at Sarah. “Time to go.”

  Sarah jumped down and ran to my side.

  “She’s still got a pulse. I didn’t kill her.”

  “Then you better hope we get out of here before she comes to and crowd realizes they’ve been had.”

  Sarah pushed the door to the cage open and jumped to the floor. I handed Ellie’s body down to Sarah. She stumbled back a step under her sister’s weight. I hurried and jumped down, taking Ellie’s body from Sarah, tossing her over my shoulder like a cargo handler would a heavy sack.

  “Work it,” I ordered.

  Sarah put on a show. For the first time in her life, the petite clone made sure everyone saw her. The ring announcer came to life, shrugging off the unusual end to the fight.

  “The winner, in the third round, Sarah the younger. Victory by asphyxiation!” The adoring crowd applauded, chanting Sarah’s name as we hurried towards Dmitry and Father Nathan. The two guards were sitting down now, their gaze vacant. XT and Josef were gone.

  “This way! Hurry!” Dmitry led the way, motioning for us to follow.

  “WHAT JUST HAPPENED?”

  Gravestone turned in fury, screaming at the hapless MacAuliffe. “That was Inspector Sullivan in that ring! What is going on?”

  “Why don’t you tell me,” MacAuliffe replied calmly. "This is your event. You informed me it was planned down to the last detail."

  Screams erupted from the crowd as armed police officers began to stream in through the gates leading from the concourse.

  “It can’t be,” Gravestone cried in disbelief.

  Suddenly angry, MacAuliffe rose quickly. “Take me from here. Now. I will not be taken into custody! This is your fault!”

  Seconds passed before Gravestone could gather herself. She walked past MacAuliffe, opening the exit door. “Follow me, James. Don’t fall behind.”

  Gravestone exited into the corridor behind the luxury boxes. She shoved a frantic woman out of
the way, knocking her into the path of other high rollers trying to escape.

  The statuesque blonde turned to her right and took several long strides before stopping in front of what looked like a service access panel.

  Entering a combination of numbers in the electronic lock, Gravestone waited a second and then pried the door open. Without looking to see if MacAuliffe followed, she ventured quickly into the dimly lit passage, hurrying away from the confusion and chaos.

  MARKESON WATCHED IN joy as the officers cut off the furious spectators. Fights broke out here and there as drunken men tried to bully their way past the officers. A tap here and a tap there from a nightstick put a halt to most of the foolishness.

  What worried the detective was the knowledge that tunnels spread out beneath the complex. The high rollers might have made their getaway using those.

  “Come on now,” Markeson shouted. “Get them calmed down and into the concourse.”

  Sullivan was somewhere in the chaos. Markeson wanted to find the giant. As much as he disliked Sullivan, he respected the Inspector’s no-nonsense demeanor. Nobody with half a brain argued with Sullivan more than a few seconds.

  Josephson had organized the processing lines at the entrance to the concourse. The tunnel corridor acted as a natural choke point, making it easy to force the now frantic fight patrons into a slightly controllable mob.

  The din was growing almost unbearable over the outrageous demands being made, the frantic shouting and the crying mistresses. Things were on the verge of turning into a riot.

  Amused by the fact, Markeson decided to do what Sullivan would do.

  Markeson drew his newly acquired projectile weapon, chambered a round and fired it into the ceiling. He jumped as the ricochet whizzed by and bits of stone and rock peppered him.