Sheepdog

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “That wasn’t my intention,” he said, quickly raising a hand. “Someone at HALO liked you for Union Square because of the method…not because of my report.”

  “The method?” I asked. “What method?”

  “Eight minutes, boss,” Cans said over the com. “CITADEL is coming in hot.”

  “The subway was hit at rush hour with a series of seismic charges. I’ve never seen tech like this in my life.”

  No one was supposed to…ever.

  “I’m listening.”

  “According to initial reports, the first group of detonations killed everyone on the platform. They never had a chance,” he said as his voice choked up. “The second series of detonations—”

  “Collapsed everything,” I finished. “Burying everyone that was left.”

  There was no choking in my voice. Death and I had been doing this familiar dance for far too long.

  “This was a test,” Anvil said over the com. “Not the final attack.”

  “No one had heard of this kind of attack,” Bullock said, “much less that a weapon like this existed.”

  “Someone at HALO did a little digging, didn’t they? I bet that didn’t take long.”

  Bullock nodded. “Istanbul. The target on that op was neutralized the same way. The exact same way.”

  Denial would be pointless. We were the only team to ever use Earthquakers in the field.

  “You’d better go now,” I said, turning around. “Before it’s too late.”

  “No need, I’ve been instructed to run interference with CITADEL.”

  “Adams?”

  “He wants you to put Victor down. This time…permanently.”

  “Working on it.”

  “One last thing,” Bullock said. “Adams said they’ve unleashed the wolves on you. Whatever that means. He said you’d know.”

  “I do.”

  Someone at HALO was washing their sins—and Victor was their method of absolution.

  TWELVE

  Anvil was behind the wheel when I ran back to the Armadillo.

  She raised an eyebrow when I gave her a look.

  “You’re driving?”

  “You drive like a blind, old woman,” she said, pulling out of the lot at speed. “I would prefer not to be detained by CITADEL today.”

  I strapped in the harness and put on the HUD glasses for the Gatling.

  “Cans, did you track that signal from the truck? The one that Victor sent?”

  “They tried to use a burst transmission repeater, but I was able to get close to the source.”

  “Where?”

  “It looks like…this can’t be right,” Cans said, as I heard the clicking of keys being tapped. “Cornell Tech on Roosevelt Island. The signal looks like it originated there. Probably the roof.”

  “Why doesn’t it look right?” I asked. “Cornell isn’t that far from Long Island City.”

  “It’s just that it would’ve needed some serious boosting from that location,” Cans replied. “He’d need a Trampoline Apparatus. If you can find that and bring it here, I can find him.”

  “I’m going to pretend that’s English and contact you when I get there.”

  “You’re going to have to examine the antennas on the roof,” Cans said. “I’ll send a drone ahead.”

  “No,” I countered, remembering the destroyed drone from the audition. “I think he must have some kind of early warning system set up. A drone will let him know we’re coming.”

  “Fine,” Cans said. “I’m going to need a visual when you get on-site.”

  “We’ll check it out,” I said. “Quemi, lock down R2 until you hear from me.”

  “Done,” she said. “This will give me some time to figure out how HALO discovered my ELF.”

  “Good idea. Everyone else, standby until we give you confirmation from Roosevelt Island.”

  “What about Lydia and CITADEL?” Bella asked. “They’re going to be all over the streets.”

  “They’ll have their hands full with Union Square and Bullock.”

  “Can we trust Ballsack?”

  “I trust Adams,” I said. “We’ll see about Bullock. For now, we take him at his word until proven wrong. Right now, he’s buying us time with Lydia.”

  “You know that won’t stop Lydia for long,” Bella answered. “She wants payback.”

  “She’s going to have to take a number. Cans, you and Monk find out what happened to the Earthquaker project and see if you can reproduce one of the seismic charges.”

  “Why would we need an Earthquaker?” Anvil asked as we crossed the city. “That weapon is too dangerous.”

  “Trust me,” I said. “I have a feeling we’ll be needing it. Intern, take a team down to Union Square and assist the first responders. If you can salvage what’s left of any of the seismic charges, do so. Try to find out whatever you can.”

  “I’ll take the Nightingales,” Intern said. “They’re the best for this sort of thing.”

  “Good call.”

  “Where do you want me, boss?” Bella asked. “I’m not going to sit here and practice my origami while everyone is working.”

  “I need you on the building opposite Cornell Tech, watching our back. Get into a firing position and hunker down. We’re on our way.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Bella yelled, making me wince. “I will be the holy finger of god striking from beyond!”

  “Take one of the bikes and leave The Tank,” I said when she calmed down. “I need you to be discreet, and your vehicle is anything but.”

  “My Tank is discreet,” she answered, semi-deflated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Take one of the rockets and haul ass. I doubt Victor is still there, but maybe we can find something that will lead us to his location.”

  “I have your six, boss,” Bella said, and momentarily went silent. “Fifty-four sixteen.”

  “Roger that,” I said. “Coms silent until we arrive. If they can trace Quemi’s ELF, they can find R2. Emergency burst transmissions only.”

  “Copy that,” came over the com in a chorus, followed by silence.

  “You don’t think he will be there, do you?” Anvil asked as she cut off another taxi and convinced a group of pedestrians that the sidewalk was a better choice for prolonged life expectancy. “There’s something else.”

  “He’s playing a game. Leaving me crumbs, but I’m not seeing them…in time.”

  I remembered Victor’s words: You’ve made some powerful enemies. Someone with deep pockets wants me to shake up your life, and nothing shines up a halo like death.

  “You know he plays these games,” Anvil said. “They usually end up being fatal.”

  “We have to stop him from unleashing another one of those Earthquakers,” I said. “He knew Union Square would get our attention.”

  “He’s going to regret that decision.”

  “I’ll make sure he does—right before he dies.”

  THIRTEEN

  Roosevelt Island at dusk gave you an impressive view of the Manhattan skyline. We crossed over the small bridge from the Queens side and approached the small island as night fell. We parked the Armadillo at the North end of the island, near the Southtown Dog Run right off Main Street, and walked toward Cornell Tech. As we crossed under the Queensboro Bridge, I contacted Bella.

  “Are you in place, Bella?”

  “Eye in the sky,” Bella answered. “I see you in your baby Tank. No sign of Victor or Black Wolf.”

  “Keep your eyes open,” I said. “We’re going to the roof of Cornell Tech.”

  The House at Cornell Tech was a pair of large buildings, part of the new development on Roosevelt Island and the new site of Cornell’s graduate program. The campus was cutting edge, with new designs and sleek architecture.

  Getting past security was easily done with our government credentials. By the time we arrived on the roof, it was dark. I looked around and thought I saw Bella across the way on the
opposite roof. When I looked again she was gone.

  “Cans said we need to examine the antennas,” Anvil said, moving around the roof.

  Half of the roof was designed as a sunbathing deck, with access to an indoor swimming pool. The other half was HVAC units and ventilation.

  “Over there,” I said, pointing at the antenna on the east side of the roof, near the ventilation. “What did Cans call it? A trampoline something?”

  “Trampoline Apparatus,” Anvil answered. “I can only assume it is that device attached to the antenna.”

  I pulled out my phone and called Cans.

  “Shoot, boss,” he said after the call connected. “Do you see the Trampoline Apparatus?”

  “What am I looking for? I see the antenna. What does this thing look like?”

  “It should be a small, dish-shaped radar, about twelve inches in diameter, attached near the top of the antenna.”

  “That looks like some sophisticated hardware,” I said, looking up at the attachment. “This the kind of thing someone discards?”

  “Not really,” Cans said. “I can use it to reverse engineer his signal and find him. If I were Victor, I’d be anxious to get that back.”

  “Except, only someone like you would even know about this kind of device, right?”

  “Probably. Trampolines aren’t really in common use, yet.”

  “Shit,” I said, realizing the truth. “I’m going to have to call you back.”

  I ducked behind one of the ventilation systems and motioned for Anvil to do the same when my phone rang.

  “I told you I’d call you back, Cans. This situation is—”

  “Hello, Shep,” Victor said. “I’m afraid I can’t let you have my hardware.”

  “Why don’t you come and get it?” I asked, flexing my left hand. “You can see me. Why not let me see you?”

  “I see you still have your hand thing,” he answered as I tried to listen to the ambient noise around him. He sounded close. “Don’t worry, we’ll meet soon enough, brother.”

  “Fuck you,” I said, willing my hand to stop. “The next time I see you—I’ll be the last thing you see.”

  “I’m sending a retrieval team,” Victor said. “Let me guess, you have Bella on the opposite roof, watching your back? Where’s the rest of the team?”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. “I’m here solo.”

  “You can’t lie for shit. Hope you don’t mind if I remove her. Can’t have her shooting my men down.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I said, looking over the vent system. “I said I was solo.”

  “Sure, you are,” Victor answered. “Consider this me lightening your emotional burden, then. You can thank me later.”

  I heard the combat UAV before I saw it. I recognized it as a Harop, which meant it was a suicide drone. They didn’t carry ordnance. The drone itself was the weapon and would slam into a target—kamikaze style.

  “Bella, you need to get off that roof,” I heard Anvil say under her breath from behind the vent system. “Do it, now!”

  The Harop circled around the second building, shot straight into the sky, and reversed course, dropping straight down into the roof. The explosion erupted into the night with a roar, converting the roof Bella was on, into an inferno.

  “Bella!” I yelled. “I’m going to end you, Victor.”

  “Good thing you were solo,” Victor answered. “I’d suggest you get off the roof. My men have orders to shoot on sight.”

  Before I could process what just happened, five gliders came into view. Machine gunfire raced across the roof, pinning Anvil and me behind the vents.

  “I’m going to find you, and then I’m going to end you,” I said, “right after I drop your team.”

  “Not going to happen. I have snipers positioned to drop you if you so much as show your—what the fuck?”

  One of the gliders started moving in an erratic pattern as it deviated from the flight plan. The first was followed by a second and a third. By the time the last two landed on the roof, Anvil ran over, blades in hand, finishing the first glider to touch down. I fired my Chameleon and dropped the second.

  “I’m on my way to put you down, brother,” I said into the phone with a hiss.

  “I’ll be waiting,” Victor answered with a laugh, and then grew serious. “Let’s end this.”

  The line went dead.

  FOURTEEN

  “Bella?”

  “I’m touched, boss,” her voice came over the com. “Did you shed a tear for me?”

  “Where the hell are you?” I said, looking around. “You weren’t on that roof, or you’d be barbecued right now.”

  “I can’t believe he used a Harop—I’m flattered.”

  “Flattered? You’re flattered? I thought you were gone.”

  “I’m crazy, not suicidal. Victor knows us…knows your SOP. So, I tweaked it a bit. I’m behind you.”

  “Behind me?” I said, looking across Roosevelt Island. “There’s nothing behind me except open space and the…bridge.”

  Anvil pointed, and I looked closer at the bridge. Standing on top of the Queensboro Bridge was the silhouette of a figure. Bella flashed me a signal.

  “What the hell are you doing up there?”

  “Staying alive,” Bella answered. “Finger of god, baby.”

  “You’re insane,” I said, shaking my head and moving to the antenna. “Get your ass off there.”

  “You better get Cans’ dish and get off that roof,” Bella said, vanishing from sight. “I’m sensing a trend with you and explosions, boss. First responders are on the way. Oh, I didn’t use riot rounds on the other snipers. They were using live ammo.”

  “How many?”

  “Two,” Bella answered, her voice hard. “One across the river, and one in Queens. Victor was going to drop you. He should’ve used more, not that it would’ve made a difference. Wasn’t even a challenge.”

  “Did you get eyes on him at all?”

  “If I did, you’d be burying him right now. I dropped as many of his glider boys and snipers as I could. Victor wasn’t here.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” I said, looking at the glider men who lay on the roof. “They weren’t using riot rounds that’s for sure. I’m sure he was watching, though.”

  “Bet he was,” Bella answered. “Too many places to hide. Not enough time to locate him.”

  “Thank you for the assist, Bella,” I said. “Now, get off that bridge and get safe. I’ll meet you at R2.”

  “Anytime, boss. Fifty-four.”

  “Sixteen,” I answered, climbing the antenna.

  I removed the Trampoline Apparatus and dropped down.

  “You ready?” Anvil asked, looking over the edge. “Looks busy.”

  I looked over the edge and saw the gathering of police and fire vehicles. Those were expected. It was the black CITADEL trucks that gave me pause.

  “Lydia’s getting closer,” I said. “Her response time is getting better.”

  “She’s good,” Anvil said, stepping on the edge of the roof ledge. “We’re better.”

  The wind buffeted the roof around us.

  Anvil pressed the center of her armor, inflating it into a hi-tech wingsuit, and stepped into space. I gave her twenty seconds, strapped the dish to my chest and followed Anvil off the edge of the roof.

  Wingsuit BASE jumping required different body postures from skydiving. Keeping a tight profile, we used gravity to accelerate and then transitioned into something called proximity flying, where we kept as close to the ground as possible. Dressed in black, Anvil shot across the island, a speeding shadow in the night.

  I kept a bead on her location and made sure to give her room as we approached the bridge. I opted to go under it, as I saw her weave through the suspension cables. She dove and cut around the buildings, shooting down Main Street, as she made her way to an open area ahead.

  About a minute later, I saw her BASE chute open, and she land
ed silently in the Southtown Dog Run. I followed her about thirty seconds later, landing on the other end of the large dog run. I released my chute and took several steps, when I heard the gun cock.

  “Hello, Shepherd,” a female voice said behind me. “We need to have a talk. Are you going to be civilized, or do I need to shoot you first?”

  I scanned the area, but didn’t see Anvil. Slowly, I raised my arms and turned around. I wasn’t in the mood to get shot tonight. In front of me stood a force of nature, Lydia ‘Pitbull’ Delgado, Director of CITADEL. She held her handcannon trained on my chest. Her dark expression let me know she was about one second away from emptying the magazine into me—on principle alone.

  Tasked with keeping the city safe, she took her job seriously and personally. The reason she was nicknamed ‘Pitbull’ had to do with her tenacity. Once she picked up a trail, she didn’t know the meaning of the word quit, relentlessly pursuing her targets. It was a source of pride that I had been on her shitlist for some time now.

  For a brief second, I considered shooting her. CITADEL combat armor was similar to what we wore and only about three generations behind in design. I didn’t know if the armor she wore would stop my Chameleon rounds, so I decided not to risk it. Besides, she looked pissed. Shooting her wouldn’t exactly improve her mood.

  “Hello, Lydia,” I said, dropping my arms slowly. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Cut the shit, Shepherd,” Lydia said, keeping her distance. Smart choice. “What the hell are you doing here, and what is that thing strapped to your chest?”

  I glanced down at the dish. “This…this is just some BASE jumping gear that I—”

  “What do you know about Union Square?”

  “It’s located downtown?”

  “You want me to shoot you, Shepherd?” she asked, taking half a step forward. “Because I will, and it will make me feel a hell of a lot better after the night I’ve been having.”

  “I don’t know anything about Union Square,” I said. “Except what I heard on the news. Something about an earthquake?”

  “Bullshit,” Lydia shot back. “New York City doesn’t do earthquakes—not like that. You have something to do with this, and you’re coming in for questioning.”