by Alex Siegel
She sprinted away.
* * *
"It's a fucking ambush," Ipo growled. "Kill them all."
He drew his gun, and with the focus of a samurai warrior, he began to fire. Hanley recovered his composure and drew his own pistol. His military training came back to him in a flash, and his emotions drained away.
Hanley looked at one of the boats. Four armed men were riding on it, but they were holding their weapons in a casual manner. They clearly thought they had already won the battle. Ipo and Hanley were badly outnumbered and surrounded, so the enemy had good reason to be confident. The sane choice for Hanley was to put up his hands and surrender.
A burning in his gut refused to allow that to happen. He drew his pistol and snapped off the best four shots of his life in under two seconds. Four men went down with bullets in their skulls and surprised expressions on their faces. Hanley felt the Lord's rage with each trigger pull, and it was the most exhilarating experience of his life. The world was in bright, sharp focus. Hanley was so excited, he spun and shot the two men in the original, blue and green speed boat. Blood sprayed across the estuary.
He looked around for somebody else to kill, but Ipo had already finished off the attackers in the second ambush boat. There were no enemies left on the water.
Ipo patted Hanley on the shoulder. "Calm down, rookie. Your eyes are popping out of your head."
Hanley took a deep breath. His heart was pounding like a drum, and the urge to kill still burned inside him.
Ipo smiled. "Feels good, doesn't it?"
"Fantastic," Hanley replied in a hoarse voice.
"Remember that feeling. Let's help our friends."
Ipo pushed the throttle to full and aimed their speedboat towards the marina.
* * *
Marina heard gunfire on the water, but she couldn't afford to look in that direction. Ipo and Hanley would have to fend for themselves. She had problems of her own.
The men from the dump truck started yelling and shooting, and Marina heard the bullets whistling around her. They wanted her to surrender, but that would never happen. The only available cover was the boats. She took a running leap onto a nearby yacht, smashed open a door with a kick, and went below decks.
After her eyes adjusted to the poor lighting, she quickly checked her surroundings. A short corridor connected four little cabins. It was a cramped, shadowy battlefield which would soon stink of death.
She looked back, expecting to see Katie close behind, but the legionnaire wasn't there. Katie finally appeared a few seconds later, bleeding from a bullet wound in the shoulder where the body armor didn't protect her. She was trying to compress the wound with her opposite hand.
"What happened?" Marina said. "I told you to stay close!"
"It was a big jump onto the boat," Katie said meekly. "I hesitated."
Marina rolled her eyes. "You're lucky they didn't hit you in your thick head! Find a place to hide, and try not to bleed too much. It could be a while before we get you to a hospital."
"But, ma'am, there are at least twenty of them up there!"
"I know." Marina snarled. "Obviously, that fucking email was bait, and I swallowed it. I should've realized this setup was too convenient. Hide!"
Katie ran into one of the little cabins in back, leaving drops of blood on the deck. Marina shook her head in annoyance. I hope she learns from this, she thought.
Marina heard heavy footsteps on the deck above.
"Come out of there!" a man yelled. "Give yourself up! Or we'll come down after you!"
Please, do, she thought. She stepped into the nearest room and discovered it was a little galley. She squatted in the darkest corner.
Marina heard men talking to each other. They were arguing about who would actually risk their neck by going into a dark place and flushing her out. It sounded like a cowardly, amateurish group with no clear leadership. They also discussed money, and the number "twenty grand" was mentioned more than once. The men were getting paid for this job, and Marina needed to know who was paying them.
She realized she had to hurry this fight along. The police would arrive soon as a result of the loud gunshots, and the enemy would likely scatter. Marina wanted to take a few captives before that happened.
"Hey, assholes!" she yelled. "I'm getting bored. None of you will get paid unless somebody comes and gets me. You'd better do it quick before the police get here."
The enemy finally sent a group. They rushed down the stairs all together with the clear intention of overwhelming whatever resistance she might offer. It sounded like at least ten were coming.
Two men entered the galley, but they didn't see Marina immediately in the darkness. She came up behind them and injected venom into their necks. They passed out a few seconds later. These are my captives, she thought. I can kill the rest.
She listened to the voices and footsteps of her enemies. She mentally located them and formed a plan of attack. Before she moved, she allowed her natural rage to mix with the Lord's. That toxic brew was always simmering in the back of her mind, waiting to be released.
She was still holding her Beretta, and it had a suppressor screwed onto the barrel. Now, she thought.
She dived out of the doorway and into the corridor. She looked up at two men who didn't notice her on the floor. She fired up through their jaws and put bullets into their brains. The suppressor kept the noise down to a pop and a hiss.
Three more men were in a room across the corridor. She took them out with fast, precise shots. When fighting against superior numbers, moving quickly was essential.
Marina rolled onto her side and aimed at the two doors in back. More enemies were in those rooms.
"Please, let me go!" she screamed like a terrified girl. "You got me! Just don't hurt me!"
Her voice drew the men out from the rooms in back. She shot them through the eye sockets.
She cautiously stood up and crept down the corridor. It was possible a few enemies were still lurking back there. A shuffling footstep confirmed that hunch.
Marina peeked into a bedroom. A tall man with black hair was holding Katie hostage. He had her arm twisted behind her back and a gun pressed against her head.
"Drop your weapon," he bellowed. "Hands in the air. Or I'll blow her brains out."
Katie had the decency to look embarrassed. "Ma'am," she said softly, "are you going to save me?"
"No." Marina shook her head. "Save yourself."
"But..."
"You're a warrior of God! I order you to destroy this worm."
Katie ducked and tripped her assailant at the same time. He shot his gun, but her head was already out of the way. She kicked the gun away while he was lying on the ground, and then she stomped on his gut. He made a satisfying wheezing noise. She drew her own gun and shot him in the forehead.
"That wasn't so hard," Marina said.
"I guess it wasn't, ma'am," Katie said with a smile.
Marina heard people walking on the deck above. The fight wasn't over.
Katie followed Marina into the corridor and looked at all the dead bodies. "Holy shit," the legionnaire muttered. "You don't screw around."
"Just stay back," Marina said.
She unclipped a flash-bang grenade from her belt. She pulled the pin and tossed the grenade up the stairs and onto the deck above. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and jammed her fingers into her ears.
The explosion made the whole boat vibrate. The grenade was loud!
She sprinted up the stairs, poked her head outside, and shot at anything that looked hostile. She managed to kill five men before the rest recovered their wits. When they started shooting back, she went back down.
"That's most of them," Marina said.
Katie was clutching her bloody shoulder while gnawing on her lip.
"You're in a lot of pain?" Marina said.
"Yes, ma'am, but I'm more worried about screwing up so badly. I let myself get shot and captured."
"It wasn't your finest
hour, but as long as you don't repeat your mistakes, I'll overlook them. Where are the police?" Marina furrowed her brow. "They shouldn't be taking so long."
She heard gunfire above, and the shots weren't directed at her. After the shooting stopped, she risked another look outside. It appeared the rest of her enemies were dead.
The sound of an engine made her look towards the water. Ipo and Hanley were approaching in their red speedboat, and their gun barrels were smoking. Marina stood up openly on the deck.
"Are either of you hurt?" she said.
"No, ma'am," Ipo said.
"Good. Katie was shot. Hanley, your job is to get her to a hospital. Call an ambulance or steal a car, just do it fast. Ipo, I need your help carrying some bodies."
Ipo tied the speedboat to the yacht.
Katie climbed up onto the deck, and Hanley jumped across to lend her a hand. They stepped onto the pier and hurried towards the parking lot together.
Ipo went down into the yacht with Marina.
He looked at the bodies. "Nice work, ma'am. Those are some pretty bullet holes. The more time I spend with you, the more I admire you."
"Thanks."
"Was Katie any help?"
"Not really," Marina said, "but she showed some spunk towards the end. These two are still alive." She pointed at the unconscious men in the galley. "Let's toss them in the speedboat and get the hell out of here."
Working together, they transferred the captives to the speedboat. She still hadn't heard a siren, and the lack of police response bothered her. The enemy had used guns without suppressors, and plenty of bystanders must've heard the shots.
Finally, Marina grabbed the cardboard box which was lying on the pier, but it felt distressingly empty. She hopped into the red speedboat.
She and Ipo drove off with their unconscious cargo. They sped along the estuary with the throttle fully open. A giant rooster tail of saltwater sprayed out behind them.
Ipo was holding the wheel. "Where to, ma'am?"
"Someplace private where I can have some quality time with these assholes."
Marina tore open the cardboard box, and as she had feared, it was empty. The whole scenario had just been a trap.
She searched the captives thoroughly. She found a few weapons, but they were cheap junk, so she tossed them overboard. The wallets and phones were of more use to her. She made sure the phones were completely off so they couldn't be tracked, and she stowed them on the boat.
She examined the wallets. The identification looked completely real, and if that were true, it was another sign the men were amateurs. The business card for one indicated he was a car salesman. The other appeared to be a stockbroker, and she recognized the name of the financial company as one of the bigger ones. She used her phone to check the company's website, and he was listed as a real employee.
Marina furrowed her brow. Why are civilians mixed up in this? she wondered.
She called Min Ho. The engine noise would make conversation difficult, but the call couldn't wait.
"Ma'am?" Min Ho said.
"We ran into a lot of trouble at the marina," Marina yelled, "and we took two captives for interrogation." She read the names from the identification in the wallets. "Do the usual background checks. Also, the police never showed up, and that's bothering me. Figure out why. I'll call again in a little while."
"Yes, ma'am."
She hung up.
* * *
Peter Hastings was sitting at his computer in his secret chamber. Something had gone wrong. His men should've reported with news by now, good or bad. He had sent messages asking for a status update, but nobody had responded. It was like they were all dead. He didn't see how it was possible for thirty armed sociopaths to get completely wiped out.
Everybody involved in the operation had the Soulfriends Network app installed on their phones, and Peter could use the software as a back door. He could steal passwords and account information. He could even rewrite the operating systems so that Soulfriends could never be removed.
In this case, he used his back door to query the locations of the phones. All smartphones came with GPS hardware, so this information was readily available. He didn't even have to use tower triangulation.
A few phones were off, but the rest were still at the Alameda Marina, and they weren't moving. He made all the phones ring, but nobody answered the call.
Peter frowned. That's not good, he thought.
Chapter Sixteen
The boathouse smelled like mildew. There was space for six small boats, but the building was only half-full at the moment. A strip of seawater ran along one side, and an overhead hoist provided a way to move boats to and from the water. The floor was made of cracked and stained concrete. Dust covered the small windows. The lights were off, but enough sunlight trickled in to see.
The nicest aspect of the boathouse was the tools. Shelves held hammers, saws, wrenches, screwdrivers, and rope. Marina had plenty of instruments of torture to choose from, and there was even a propane torch, but she didn't see a lighter.
The captives were bound in hogtie positions on the floor. They were still unconscious, but when they woke up, they would be uncomfortable. Marina had pulled the ropes tight enough to bend their backs and twist their joints.
"I want you to handle the torture," she said.
"Yes, ma'am." Ipo cracked his knuckles. "When will they wake up?"
"Soon. I only gave them a moderate dose of venom. I'll hurry the process along."
She spotted a hose connected to a water spigot. She turned on the water, dragged the hose across the floor, and sprayed the captives in the face. After a minute, they sputtered and woke up, but she kept forcing water into their eyes and up their noses. When they started choking, she turned off the hose.
"Hello," Marina said cheerfully. "We've done our homework and know quite a bit about both of you. You're Mr. Anderson." She looked at a short man with red hair. She opened her phone and read from a text message that Min Ho had sent her. "Used car salesman. Three failed marriages. Four children you try to ignore. Arrested twice for solicitation and once for embezzlement. There are several restraining orders against you. Sued many times for various offenses. You're a classic sociopath who skates through life on lies and charm."
"That's not true," Anderson said.
"Another lie." She shook her head sadly. "Our other guest is Mr. Greenfield, stockbroker and financial advisor. You supplement your income by taking kickbacks from fund managers and by brokering insider information. You also have three mistresses and two ex-wives. On top of everything, you're a notorious slumlord. You're just an upscale version of Mr. Anderson."
Greenfield was a little taller, and he had shiny, black hair. His handsome face had probably broken many hearts.
"Can you prove any of that?" he said.
"No need," Marina said. "We have some questions for you. If you don't answer them, my large, beefy friend will hurt you very badly. Are the rules clear? Would you like me to explain them again?"
Neither captive spoke.
"Excellent." She smiled. "You were paid to capture us. Explain the details of that transaction including who paid you, how you were paid, and the specific instructions you were given. You may begin."
The boathouse became quiet, and the only sound was the waves of the San Francisco Bay outside. Ripples worked their way up the water channel.
Marina nodded to Ipo. He walked over to the tools and picked up a heavy pipe wrench.
He faced the captives. "Who will be first?" he asked in a deep, rumbling voice.
"Hold on!" Mr. Anderson said. "There's no need for violence. The FBI hired us to catch you."
Ipo walked over and smashed Anderson's elbow. The joint bent backwards and snapped like a dry stick. He howled in pain.
Marina leaned into his face. "You're a pathological liar, and that trait will not serve you well now. Every lie will earn you another crippling injury. Mr. Greenfield, you're too quiet."
Ipo smas
hed Greenfield's fingers with the pipe wrench, breaking three of them. He screamed.
"That's better," she said.
"We were just in it for the money!" he cried. "We meant no harm. We never wanted any trouble."
"You shot at us."
"I didn't shoot at you. I was just trying to scare you."
"My mistake, and you still haven't answered my questions." Marina nodded to Ipo.
He smashed Greenfield's ankle hard enough to break the joint.
Greenfield screamed and rolled helplessly on the floor. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Stop hitting me!"
"Who is paying you?" Marina said.
"I don't know," he wept with tears on his cheeks. "Some guy I met last night on Soulfriends."
"Same with you?" she asked Anderson.
He nodded. "I don't know his real name. His account name is 'Ice Crusher.'"
"But you were willing to commit felonies on his behalf?" She raised her eyebrows.
"He paid ten grand up front and promised ten more after the job was done. It was good money for a couple of hours of easy work."
"What were your orders, exactly?"
"Kidnap you and find out who you were," Anderson said. "Can you let us go now? We told you everything."
Marina walked off, took out her phone, and called Min Ho. Ipo joined her and leaned in so he could overhear.
"Our captives claim they were paid ten grand," Marina said. "Is that true?"
"One moment, ma'am," Min Ho said.
She heard typing in the background. Greenfield moaned in pain.
"Yes," Min Ho said, "but I'm having a hard time figuring out where the money came from."
"What do you mean?" Marina said.
"It looks like the money showed up in their accounts as a result of a suspicious bank error."
She raised her eyebrows. "Interesting. Did you ever figure out why the police never showed up at the Alameda Marina?"
"Yes, ma'am," Min Ho said. "The police dispatch system was hacked. The police were sent to the wrong address."
"We're dealing with a sophisticated adversary," Ipo murmured.
Marina nodded. "Sophisticated enough to detect our network tap and use it to bait a trap." She walked back over to the captives. "How were you chosen for this job?"