by K. C. Sivils
“Did he warn the young man?”
“No. Not one word did the Inspector utter. He just shot him. Certainly there are rules against that sort of thing I would imagine.”
I watched Devereaux as he preened and glanced about, pleased with his useless performance.
Jackson, wishing to avoid any further surprises stated to the tribunal he was done questioning the good Mr. Devereaux and took a seat.
I stood and smiled at the arrogant fool. He glared back at me, smiling in the certainty he’d get his way.
I continued to stare at him as I addressed the tribunal.
“I will require special equipment for my questioning of Mr. Devereaux. Here is a list of the items I require.” I held out my tablet with the items listed.
Jackson leapt to his feet, annoyed at this turn of events.
“Objection. What does Inspector Sullivan propose to do? A mind probe of the witness? Torture?”
The Captain presiding over the hearing looked up from the tablet.
“Sit down Mr. Jackson. Inspector Sullivan has simply requested a view screen. Nothing more. Since you were gracious enough to show us the CCTV imagery of the event, we already have a view screen present.”
Jackson sat down, uncertain of what to do. I don’t blame the man. He was a cop, not a trained prosecutor.
I’d continued my direct stare at the witness. It was starting to have an effect. Devereaux’s smile had disappeared and he was starting to look uncomfortable.
“Mr. Devereaux, you claim I acted without reasonable cause? Is that correct?”
“Yes. Any reasonable person would agree.”
I walked over to the table and picked up a small device I’d left sitting there. I motioned for the view screen to be positioned where the tribunal could see it clearly.
“This device,” I said, holding it up for everyone in the room to see, “allows me to access the CPU surgically implanted beneath my right collarbone. By simply placing it right here,” I held the device over the approximate location of my CPU, “I can download data files to this portable drive.”
Walking over to the table I picked up the drive in question and held it up for everyone to see.
Concerned by the turn of events, Jackson stood up quickly and protested.
“I object to this strange display. Inspector Sullivan is the subject of this inquiry. Not technological devices used to store and retrieve information.”
I didn’t give the tribunal a chance to respond.
“Ah, but that is where the good Mr. Jackson is wrong. You see, my right eye is cybernetic. Military grade and is linked to my CPU. I’m sure everyone present has seen my facial scar, it’s not possible to miss it.”
Jackson recovered quickly, I’ll give him that much.
“Again, technology is not what this hearing is about. I have no idea why Inspector Sullivan would bring up something confidential like military technology civilians have no access to.”
The three officers conferred with each other quickly before I had a chance to speak.
“Inspector Sullivan, we have to agree with Mr. Jackson. The discussion of secret military technology has no place in this hearing. You will not discuss it again.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied with an angry tone. “When I stipulated my entire military service record could be entered without reading in order to save the tribunal’s time, I had no idea I would not be later allowed to refer back to part of the court record. If you take the time to examine my record, you will find the fact I was fitted with a cybernetic eye as a result of a wound sustained in the line of duty is clearly mentioned, along with the basic capabilities of the equipment installed.”
I smiled first at Devereaux and then Jackson while the three officers argued with each other in whispers. Finally, growing red in the face, the Captain silenced the others and held up his hand.
“We will allow it. But, you must demonstrate it is pertinent to these proceedings or all mention of your eye will be stricken from the record.”
“Thank you.”
I held the transmitting device over my collarbone and turned on the small box on the table. I connected it to the projector and within seconds a black screen appeared.
“What I am about to show you is very graphic. If you have a weak stomach, don’t watch. It is difficult for me to review this film.”
I looked away as the video began to play. I didn’t need to watch it to know how it played out. Kyle Buchanan, an infamous serial killer on Cigna III, held a wicked looking knife to throat a beautiful, slender woman with long brown hair, porcelain skin and big brown eyes.
The blade was long, sharp and shiny. Shiny except for random dark, brownish red spots made of dried blood. Fear radiated from the slender woman’s eyes, pleading with me to save her. Buchanan taunted me. This was nothing more than a sick, twisted game to him.
“I’m going to kill her Inspector. Just like all the others. There’s nothing you can do!” Just like he’d done every other time I’d watched the video or replayed the event in my mind or my nightmares, Buchanan laughed like the madman he was.
“You could shoot me! Yes, you could! But you might miss me and kill the pretty toy! That would be so interesting! The hero becomes the villain!”
He laughed again. In that split second, I hesitated. I forgot all about the precise targeting my cybernetic eye provided me with. I doubted myself. Buchanan saw my hesitation.
He laughed as he slit her throat almost to her spine.
His insane laughter stopped when I blew his brains out.
I stopped the video and blanked the screen. Nobody moved or made a sound.
“That animal was Kyle Buchanan, a serial killer I pursued when stationed on Cigna III. I have no idea who the young woman was. She was never identified. I know this. I hesitated and Buchanan took advantage of it and that young woman paid for it with her life.”
I looked directly at Jackson, boring into him with the rage and despair I felt at reliving the lowest point of my life.
“I was suspended, and rightly so, for not shooting the instant I spotted him with the victim. You see, my implant, combined with my mini-computer give me the ability to shoot and never miss at close range.”
I turned to face Devereaux. He was white as a ghost. “You’re probably wondering how I obtained this video? If you’ll note, it is filmed from my point of view.” I paused for a moment. “My eye gives me the ability to record events as I witness them. I simply turn the recorder on. Of course, limited data storage prevents me from filming everything, but it does come in handy for situations like this.”
Holding the small wifi feed up to my collarbone again, I retrieved the second video I wished to show. Without any setup, I played it.
Devereaux was clearly arguing with the perp I would shoot. The punk was holding his daughter precisely in the same manner Buchanan had held the Jane Doe. I paused the video and zoomed in on the perp’s eyes.
“Note, if you would, his pupils are dilated, indicating he is high on some type of amphetamine. I later learned it is the local drug known here as Stim.”
I restarted the video and rewound it to the beginning. This time I let it play just a little bit longer before pausing it. I zoomed in on the pretty Melanie’s face.
“Note how calm she is. Her pupils are normal. Her coloring is normal. Note her hands on the perp’s forearm. If she was terrified, she would have a death grip on his arm, her knuckles would be white. They aren’t. She knows the perp.”
Before anyone could speak, I rewound the video again and started it back up. This time I let it play. I didn’t hesitate this time. I blew the perp away. Melanie did in fact scream in horror. She hadn’t expected someone to blow the perp’s brains out.
Devereaux was just as shocked in the video as he was sitting in the chair in front of me. I walked right on by. In the distance constables whose duty posting was the space station were running up. In the video, Devereaux is clearly enraged. He followed me, berating me. I
stopped the video.
“I didn’t hesitate this time.”
I turned to glare at Devereaux. “You can thank me any time you like for the fact your daughter is alive.”
“You didn’t know he would kill her!”
“No, but you did.”
I turned to face the tribunal. “The perp’s name is Jake Friedman. He was a registered Able Bodied Spaceman. Why he wasn’t identified is a good question. I’ll answer it. He worked for Mr. Devereaux and I’m sure that had a lot to do with that. As Mr. Devereaux testified earlier, he was a smuggler.”
“You can’t prove that,” Devereaux snarled.
“As matter of fact, I can.”
I turned and moved closer to the despicable man, bringing my faces within inches of his.
“In fact, I can prove you are involved in the theft of melanothorazine and the resale of it off world to black marketers on the Rim Worlds.”
“I would like some proof of all of this,” Jackson demanded, coming back to life.
Smiling I turned to glare at the hapless Internal Affairs man.
“A raid was conducted just this morning at a warehouse owned by Mr. Devereaux. My partner, Detective Sergeant Josephson was severely wounded during the raid. An entire shipment was being loaded for shipment off world. The lading, of which Detective Josephson sent me an image indicates the shipment was to be delivered by a space freighter owned by Mr. Devereaux. A space freighter I might add that ABS Jake Friedman regularly shipped out on to the Rim Worlds.”
The sound of a chair shifting suddenly in the back of the room caught my attention. I glanced quickly to see Markeson standing and making his way toward the exit. Before I could speak, the Captain in charge of the tribunal banged the gavel.
“Bailiff, please take Mr. Devereaux into custody. Inspector Sullivan, you will remain in the room. We are going to adjourn for a moment.”
I watched as Devereaux was led from the room, intermittently mumbling to himself and protesting his sudden change of fortunes.
It was over. The fix that had been in had shifted. At a minimum, I would no doubt get a reprimand, in all likelihood a suspension. Maybe even another transfer. Devereaux would be dead before the day was out. I wasn’t even sure I felt bad about it.
The sad thing was the rest of them would get away with it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I walked out of the hearing room into the hall. Nobody loves it when a sure thing heads south, especially when it might land on them. Standing in the hallway, I noticed a screen further down the hall. I zoomed in with my right eye and learned the screen was set to a news broadcast.
I strolled down to the screen where I could hear as well as see. I had to laugh. Josephson had outdone himself. He’d called the media. Nobody sitting in my hearing had seen that coming.
The talking head broadcasting live suddenly changed tone. Instead of condemning the thieves and smugglers responsible, she suddenly switched to her fake voice of concern. There had been injuries in the raid. One fatality and one officer seriously injured. Both of the injured parties were members of the police force.
I didn’t like this one bit.
Like any good news crew, this one hurriedly got into position to film the dead body being carried out in a body bag. Following right behind with the EMTs working was the surviving cop lying on a hover stretcher. It was Josephson.
I left the building. My hearing was irrelevant to me now. Josephson was my responsibility. He’d gone on that raid because of me. One more thing to atone for.
---
As the temperature dropped, the snow fell faster. The Cowboy stopped and looked around. The prey was near. He knew it. His predatory senses told him. Replaying his steps, he realized the woman who had bumped into him was her. Instead of feeling rage, he smiled to himself.
She was indeed special. Prey seldom was that open and assertive in its attempts to avoid a predator. He looked down at his chronometer. Eighteen hours left in the hunt.
Gripping his cane, the Cowboy adjusted his coat and brushed away the snowflakes that had gathered on his shoulders. With a flourish he removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. Replacing the hat, he smiled at a mother escorting her children home. She frowned in return and pulled the youngest child closer as she passed.
A twinge of resentment and anger was all he felt at her response. Excitement filled him, making his senses sharper. She was near.
---
Sarah watched the man turn around and gaze in her direction. He couldn’t see her from her hiding spot behind a delivery vehicle. It sat hovering, its engine and blowers making a soft whirring sound.
She found herself wishing her sisters were present. She hated being alone. Thinking of her sisters for even a moment filled Sarah with a sense of loss. Dread even. The last time all three of them had been together one of them had died.
Died at the hands of a predator like the one hunting her now. The tall cop had killed the monster but not before the predator had ended Maria’s life.
Sarah and Ellie had watched in horror as their sister had died at the hands of a predator like the one hunting her now. The tall cop had killed the monster who had hunted all three of them, but not before the predator had robbed Maria of her life.
Ellie had begged Sarah to run. It had been the last time Sarah had seen her sister. It all seemed so long ago. So many planets ago.
Always hunted by the men who wanted to take her back. Take Ellie back. Sarah would rather die than go back. So would Ellie. When they had run, the three of them had never counted on the fact there would be other predators who would want to hurt them.
She watched the predator move in her direction. Sarah didn’t know what to do. She would evade for as long as she could, but for how long? Predators never gave up. They pursued until they made a kill.
Kill. The predator had to die. It was the only way she could survive. Sarah knew she could and would kill to survive or protect her remaining sister. But this predator, he was evil. She’d seen the results of this one’s work.
She’d also seen what the tall cop named Sullivan could do. He’d been kind to her when she was cold. Shared his warm space with her for a night. He was friends with the kindly priest who helped the street kids. Alice, the waitress who was kind to her, seemed to like him.
Sarah made her decision. She would find Sullivan. He would kill the predator.
---
It only took me a single comm link to find out where they took Josephson. It only took my getting lost and two hours to arrive at the medical complex where he was being treated.
Sitting and waiting for him to get out of surgery, I realized just how little I knew about my puppy dog of a partner. That, I decided, was an unfair way to view him. He’d done well in finding out where the meds were being kept for shipment off world.
He would have done better if he hadn’t gotten himself shot with a phase weapon. I had to teach him to be more paranoid in situations where bent cops were a possibility. At least Josephson had it in him to keep calm enough to shoot it out with the leader of the tactical team and come out the winner.
One more thing I had to add to my list of things to teach my partner. Kinetic weapons knock the bad guys down. Phase weapons only burn. Use a big enough kinetic round and you can blow a hole in a bad guy.
I found my mind wandering all over the place as I waited. I knew he wasn’t married or seeing anyone, but I needed to find out if he had family. Where he lived, what kind of music he liked, that sort of stuff.
I needed to check on Father Nathan. I’d learned one thing about the stubborn priest in the short time I’d known him. He took his charge to care for those in society who were ignored and needed help very seriously. The deaths of three street kids he was trying to help would be crushing.
Of course my mind eventually came around to my wandering beauty. I had to find her and soon. If she said the Cowboy was hunting her, I believed her.
I was certain I’d let her sister die. I wasn
’t going to let that happen to her.
---
Less than twelve hours remained and he’d yet to spot her again. Instinct told him she was somewhere in the Southeastern Section of Capital City. Prey seldom wandered out of its natural habitat. He just had to find her.
He’d given up searching on foot and was slowly patrolling his hunting grounds in his luxury hover sedan. He’d decided to capture the prey and take it somewhere private. Since he had to rush, the Cowboy decided he would not be disturbed.
Turning on to the street where he’d taken the two young females, finishing one and taking the other with him, the Cowboy slowed. The thick fog was a valid excuse to travel slowly, despite the fact he had thermal imaging, standard in every Hovertron X-1100 that allowed him to see clearly.
He spotted a slender woman walking away from him. His pulse quickened as she turned down a side street by the well-known local eatery named Joe’s. It was the prey. He had no doubt.
The Cowboy accelerated and took the turn quickly. She was nowhere to be seen. It didn’t surprise him. Excited she was playing the game so well, he slowly moved the Hovertron down the road. He pulled over to the side of the road and parked.
Exiting the car, he scanned the area carefully. He checked his pockets for his tools of the hunt. Assured he was fully equipped, he shut the door to the hover car and gripping his cane in the middle of its shaft with his right hand, he tapped the palm of his left with the curved handle.
She was close. His senses became heightened. His vision became sharper. He could smell the vile scents of the road clearly, the stench of urine and frozen garbage most people would never notice. He could hear every sound despite the whistling of the wind as it blew over him.
“Oh where are you my pretty? Where are you?” he called softly.