“Would you have the courage to say yes if you did? Or do you think you’re too important to die?”
Charlie’s memory had grown weaker with age, but he knew the woman’s voice from somewhere, and he was sure he’d seen those bright green eyes before. Could it be that game developer who used to work upstairs, the one who shared an office with Toshigi’s daughter?
“Do you like girls with swords?” the biker asked with a sadistic smile. She rotated her blade, peeling skin from Charlie’s neck. “No? How about martial arts? Fighting babes?”
With blurring speed, she struck Charlie’s nose with the palm of her hand. Before the pain could even set in, the woman dropped her sword, vaulted onto the watchman’s desk, and kicked him off his chair. Charlie landed on his back, blood dripping from his nostrils. The fall knocked the wind out of him, and he barely held onto consciousness.
“Admit it, Charlie,” his attacker said, jumping down behind the desk. “You were envious of me. I was this big, successful games designer, and you were nothing but a lowly security guard.”
It took all Charlie’s strength to pull his body within range of the alarm switch. The woman chuckled, watching him exhaust himself. When the manager’s fingers were an inch from the red button, she grabbed his hand, extended it, and pressed her foot against his shoulder. He heard – and felt - his arm bones creak with tension.
“But you see, I’m good at what I do,” the biker girl taunted him. “And you’re not.”
She broke Charlie’s arm with a single, well-placed blow to his elbow. A quiet crunch preceded unbearable pain.
“Please!” screamed Charlie, rolling in agony. “Please. No more.”
The woman casually adjusted the monitor controls. One of the images flickered, changing to show the top floor office. Rebecca typed at her workstation, unaware a psychopath was watching through the surveillance camera behind her.
The blonde girl placed something on Charlie’s chest, and folded his arms across the top. It looked and felt like a toy plastic sword, but the old man couldn’t care less what it was. He just wanted his suffering to end.
The woman zoomed in on the secretary’s face. “Poor Rebecca,” she said. “The damsel in distress is going to die. And it’s all your fault, Sir Charles. You could have sounded the alarm, but you chose to beg for your own worthless life instead. Not a very chivalrous thing to do. You’re a knight, a guardian. You were supposed to protect the citizens of your castle, but you failed. And that’s unacceptable.”
Having passed judgment the woman knelt down, and gently lifted Charlie’s head off the ground. She grabbed a tuft of his hair and snapped his neck with a single, powerful twist of her forearm. Death was mercifully swift.
***
Jade made a brief trip outside to collect her knapsack, then returned to the office tower and took the elevator to the top floor. She was careful to replace her helmet on the way up. A few years ago, Toshigi had installed surveillance cameras throughout the building. He claimed it was for the protection of his employees, but the real reason was to discourage slackers and corporate espionage. The network was protected by sophisticated counter measures, making it impossible to disable the system without alerting the authorities.
There was only one camera in the lobby, and it had been easy for Jade to keep her back to the lens. Security was much tighter on the upper levels. Three separate devices monitored the approach to Nicole’s office, with a fourth in the reception area itself. It was crucial that Jade kept her face concealed. Even in her blonde wig, someone would surely recognize her from surveillance footage. Jade drew her tranquillizer gun as she walked along the corridor. Like the night watchman, Nicole’s secretary had a role to play before she died.
Rebecca looked up from her workstation, alerted by Jade’s echoing footsteps. She screamed, recoiling from the woman who marched towards her. “Who are you?” she whimpered.
Jade dropped her knapsack, and raised her pistol. “Probably the last person you’ll ever see,” she said.
Quivering with panic, Rebecca unzipped her handbag. She tossed out a pile of cosmetic items, and clumsily retrieved her revolver. Jade knew Rebecca always carried a firearm. That’s why she’d readied her tranquillizer in advance.
The killer fired a dart into her victim’s neck. The sedative spread quickly through Rebecca’s bloodstream, rendering her numb and powerless within seconds. She had no chance to aim her weapon.
Jade pried the gun from Rebecca’s fingers, flipped open the chamber, and emptied the bullets onto the floor. “We can’t have you cheating, can we?” she said, discarding the revolver.
Rebecca’s eyelids fluttered open and closed. She attempted to speak, but could only whimper and squeal. The secretary’s pupils were dilated. She was fighting a losing battle to stay awake, let alone confront her attacker. Jade pulled out the tranquillizer dart, dropped it in a wastebasket, and dragged Rebecca into the next room.
Dragonsoft’s chief developers shared the same workspace, a top floor office with a postcard view of San Francisco. The scenery was reserved for visitors only. All programmers were assigned places behind a long, plastic table. The chairs, computers and keyboards were fully integrated into the structure. Employees worked with their backs to the window all day long, constantly in scope of surveillance cameras. To remind them whom they served, the president had mounted a silver framed portrait of himself on the far wall.
Jade lifted Rebecca off the floor, carried her over the desk, and set her down in Nicole’s chair. The head designer’s seat was in the center, directly opposite the painting of her father. Jade removed a set of chains from her knapsack, and used them to bind Rebecca’s ankles and chest to the chair. The killer pulled the restraints tight, securing the chains with combination dial padlocks. Jade strolled to the portrait, and defaced it with one swipe of her katana, cutting a straight, horizontal line through Toshigi’s neck. As the canvas flopped down, she stowed her sword in her knapsack, and dropped the bag beside a water cooler.
Now she’d vented her anger, it was time to wake her prisoner. Jade filled a plastic cup, then poured the chilled liquid over Rebecca’s head. The secretary jerked upright. She wiggled her knees, attempting to shake off her drowsiness. Jade rolled up Rebecca’s sleeve, slammed the girl’s limp forearm on the desk, and squeezed her fingers.
“You must be wondering why I’ve left your arms free,” said Jade, smiling as Rebecca winced in pain. “Well, even the world’s greatest hacker would have a difficult time if she had no hands to type with. Should we see how you manage?”
Jade reached inside her jumpsuit, and slowly unsheathed her katana. The sedative was wearing off, but Rebecca was still too weak to fight back. She cried out as Jade raised her sword high and slashed down. The blade chopped its target cleanly in two.
Sparks flew in Rebecca’s face. Jade had severed an electric cord, missing her hand by the width of a little finger. With no power, the desk lamp went dark, leaving Nicole’s computer terminal as the only source of illumination.
Jade released Rebecca’s wrist. Able to move again, the secretary nursed her arm back to good health. “What do you want?” she asked in a dry, exhausted whisper.
“I’m surprised, Silica,” said Jade. “You have a reputation for remaining calm under pressure.”
She dropped the power cable under Nicole’s chair, took off the girl’s shoes and socks, and then wandered off into the shadows.
“My name’s Rebecca Masters, you freak!” the secretary yelled defiantly.
“Tonight,” said Jade, returning with the water cooler, “you get to play Silica. Take a look. You’ve got the best seat in the house. Should be fun. Like I told Toshigi, all good games need a time constraint. What do you think? Water clocks were popular in ancient times.”
Jade placed the plastic container next to Nicole’s computer. She thrust her sword at the tank, puncturing it near the base. As water dripped from the skewered cylinder, the killer vaulted over the desk, sat facing he
r victim, and ushered the liquid towards her.
“You just gonna watch me die?” Rebecca asked. “Is that it?”
Jade leaned back across the desk, stretching her arms back. “You could always look for the combinations I buried in the text of the e-mail. Then you could free yourself before it’s too late. Three sets of numbers to find. I suggest you work quickly.”
“What e-mail?”
Rebecca looked at Jade, the cooler, then the electric cable. Water spilled over the edge of the desk, and the pool beneath her chair was spreading towards the exposed wire.
“What e-mail?” Rebecca repeated.
“The one I sent to Nicole’s computer ten minutes ago,” Jade replied casually.
“This your idea of a joke? I don’t know her password!”
Rebecca pulled the chain around her chest, but the padlock held it firmly in place. She rocked back and forth, attempting to free her legs. Rebecca toppled sideways, unbalanced by her weight.
Jade caught the girl with her foot, and lifted her back into position. “Careful, Silica,” she said. “You might fall, then you won’t be able to use your computer.”
“Stop calling me Silica!”
“It’s your name, isn’t it? You’re supposed to be an expert hacker. Breaking into Nicole’s account should be trivial for someone as intelligent as you. You can’t say I gave you no warning. I did tell you to brush up on your skills. Remember?”
Frustrated by her failed efforts to escape, Rebecca caved in to Jade’s wishes and played her game. The secretary typed on the keyboard, attempting to access Nicole’s private account. Rebecca correctly deduced the username since it had the same logical structure as all company employees, but she could only guess what Nicole’s password might be. She tried all sorts of possibilities: hobbies, game titles, names of work colleagues. Each time the computer responded with an Invalid Password prompt.
After twenty attempts, Rebecca gave up and buried her head amongst the keys. “Go to hell you weirdo bitch,” she cried. “Go to hell!”
Jade sat up and stroked Rebecca’s face. “Very disappointing,” she said condemningly. “I expected more from you.”
The water was now within an inch of the live wire. Rebecca had a minute left, if that. “Kill me, if that’s what you want,” she said. “Just don’t hurt my kid.”
“I wouldn’t kill an eight year old boy. What kind of woman do you think I am? He’ll have to attend his mother’s funeral, but then so did Nicole. It didn’t stop her from being successful. What did you accomplish with your life?”
“Why are you doing this?” asked Rebecca. “Why? Who the hell are you?”
“We were good friends once. Don’t you remember me?” Jade threw back the secretary’s head, leaned in her face, and raised her helmet visor. “How about now? Do you like my new hairstyle?”
Jade’s face was masked by shadow. The only clearly visible features were her long, blonde hair and bright green eyes.
“Len—”, Rebecca began.
Before she finished saying the name, a loud fizzling noise caught her attention. Rebecca lifted her feet off the ground a split second before the water lapped over the cable.
“Sorry, Silica,” said Jade, “but your time’s up. And you failed. Watch your feet.”
Jade chuckled, and kicked Rebecca’s kneecap with her heel. The girl’s foot landed in the pool with a splash. Rebecca convulsed violently, eyes bulging as electricity coursed through her body. Jade stamped on the secretary’s foot, trapping it beneath her boot. The leather sole kept her insulated, allowing her to watch in safety.
Steam obscured Rebecca’s shaking legs, and the shock was so great her hair stood up on end. The chains clanked as Rebecca’s reaction became increasingly violent and erratic. Her screams turned to choking coughs. Blood sprayed from her mouth, an aftereffect of biting her tongue. After nearly ten seconds of resistance, Rebecca fell silent, and collapsed lifelessly in her seat.
The killer shut off the power and climbed off the desk. She grabbed Rebecca’s charred hand, and slid a farewell token onto her index finger. It was a cheap plastic ring with the letters ‘Si’ etched into the fake gemstone. Jade left the building, pausing by the front desk to leave yet another hint for the cops to find. She mounted her motorcycle, and rode back towards San Francisco.
Jade was disappointed with her victims so far. Faced with adversity, Rebecca had come up hopelessly short and – just like Toshigi and Charlie – refused to play the role assigned to her. Although Jade’s game designs ensured none of her victims could possibly win, she’d gone to great trouble to plan their deaths, and would have liked to see at least one go down fighting. Toshigi, Kenji and Rebecca were pathetically easy prey. Eliminating the maid while evading police detection had been a little trickier, but still much easier than Jade had anticipated.
Perhaps it was time for a bonus kill, some victim who might offer more of a challenge. After some consideration, Jade decided to up the ante. She selected a target she believed would provide a suitable test of her abilities. There was likely to be a strong police presence around the house by now, which ought to give Jade worthy opponents to deal with. And it would provide another opportunity to play a game with the detectives.
After reaching the city limits, Jade circled the block three times. Every so often, she changed lanes without signaling. When she was certain nobody had followed her, the killer headed for her next destination. Pacific Heights.
Chapter Seven: A Bonus Kill
Officer Meagan Wilson doubted her first day could get worse. So far the rookie’s initiation beat had seen her break up a catfight between two overweight women in a department store, pull over a drunken truck driver (then remain calm during the ensuing profanity), and provide street directions to lost tourists. The African American detective she’d met outside the precinct had been right about one thing. Life as a policewoman was nothing like academy training. Shooting paper targets and running the assault course may have been danger free, but those exercises had at least taxed her brain and provided some degree of excitement.
Meagan’s designated partner was Rico Asante: an obese, hairy-armed Mexican with a severe case of bad breath. His body odor was so foul Meagan drove with the patrol car window fully lowered. She considered the city’s polluted air refreshing by comparison. The Sergeant had assigned Rico the task of breaking Meagan in, but so far he’d done nothing but remain on the sidelines and leave all the legwork to her. Perhaps Rico was taking advantage of Meagan’s rookie status, or maybe he was just lazy. Either way, his laid back attitude was driving her insane.
“Rico,” said Meagan, “do all cops end up so washed out? Because if they do, I’m quitting right now.”
Not surprisingly, Rico didn’t reply. His big mouth was stuffed with pastry, cream and chocolate. The Mexican hadn’t stopped eating since they’d arrived at the mansion, and he still had plenty of doughnuts left in reserve. Rico licked his sticky fingers, reached into a box between his legs, and selected another.
“Want one?” he offered, clearing his throat.
“Why? So I can take your place as the fat, lazy slob? They do come with napkins, in case you didn’t know.” Meagan was appalled by Rico’s lack of manners.
The rookie peeked through her binoculars. Everything was quiet outside the house. She pictured Miss Tasoto curled up on a Persian rug by her fireplace, playing videogames on a giant screen while her bodyguards sat outside in the freezing cold.
Meagan supposed she shouldn’t be so harsh. The girl had just lost her father and witnessed her maid’s execution, and was probably terrified she might be next. That said, it wasn’t as if Meagan and Rico had volunteered to be Miss Tasoto’s babysitters. Being new to the force, Meagan had no say in the matter, and she doubted Rico was well respected by his peers. Since nobody else fancied working the graveyard shift, the dubious honor had been thrust upon her shoulders.
“Should I take a look?” asked Rico, reaching for the binoculars.
&nb
sp; Meagan snatched her hand away. “And smear the lenses with your sticky fingers? No, thanks.”
It was the first time Rico had offered to assist her all night, but his generosity more likely stemmed from boredom than a sense of duty. Besides, the thought of having nothing to do except wait was enough to put Meagan off. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at her watch. It had been a long day, and there were still three hours until shift change.
“This is a complete waste of time,” Meagan complained. “If the investigating officers thought the killer would return to the scene of the crime…”
“They would’ve stayed to spring the trap,” said Rico. “We got the shit end of the stick. Happens all the time. Get used to it. We’re only good for—”
“Ssh! Quiet!” Meagan shouted. She could hear a motorcycle engine, but the noise was faint. “It’s getting louder.”
Rico stopped munching his doughnut and listened. Meagan turned her binoculars from left to right, scanning the road. She settled on right, the direction the sound was coming from. The bike was somewhere beyond a slope in the road. A single headlamp appeared over the crest of the hill. Meagan lowered her binoculars. As the motorcycle drew close, she grabbed her pistol’s handle, and flipped off the safety catch. The orange bike zipped past with a loud, high-pitched whine. The riders were two joyriding teenagers, a boy and a girl. Both screamed with excitement, and were either stoned or drunk.
“Stupid kids,” said Meagan, watching them disappear round a bend.
She would have relaxed, but something about the bike’s engine sound wasn’t quite right. There was a distinct echo to it, a dull chugging noise mixed in with the whine, almost as if someone was using the kids’ bike to cover their own presence.
Both noises faded, but Meagan remained tense. On impulse she grabbed her binoculars and focused on the house’s exterior wall. Her search for the phantom biker proved fruitless. Meagan was about to pass off her suspicions as paranoia when she spied someone on the side path. Her grip tightened around the binocular tubes as she focused on the shadowy figure. It was hard to tell in the poor light, but Meagan could swear the intruder was six foot tall.
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