‘It’s me they want. I’m valuable to them.’
‘You’re a prosthetics surgeon, right? Do you have something they want?’
‘I design and build Cyborgs, yes, and I suppose many consider me one of the foremost minds in the field right now, which is why they want me back. I’m valuable to them and don’t like that I ran away. But I grew sick of their practices. I wanted out. I wanted to create art, something beautiful, not another ugly killing machine for the military filled with some poor grunt who’d signed his life and mind away to the army and the Corporations. I wanted to create… you.’
‘You threatened to wipe my mind earlier, back in that lab… is that any less heartless?’ she said, eyeing him and looking for any betraying body language.
‘I wouldn’t have done it…’ he said.
She wasn’t sure she believed him. ‘So, you’re not exactly a fan of the corporations either?’
‘I was taken in and educated by them early and excelled in the field of Cybernetics. They’re all I’ve known really. I’ve been head hunted and moved from one corporation to another, bought and sold like some kind of slave. I am very definitely the product of their influence over me; that’s for sure.’
‘I can see that,’ she said. The Doctor had a sense of justice about him though, which did not come from the corporations. He appeared to want to do the right thing, but at the same time, just like the Corps, he didn’t seem to worry about who he stepped on to get there. There was a certain callousness to the Doctor that made him quite a scary man.
He saved her life, but it wasn’t done out of purely altruistic intentions. He was pursuing a greater goal of his own, and saving her life helped him achieve that. But, he did seem to have the same hatred of the Corps that she and Gibson had, which meant that he probably wouldn’t betray them, at least for the time being.
‘Hey, where the hell am I?’ called the voice of Gibson from a short distance away.
Frankie looked over and saw the shirtless Detective reach the bottom of the steps that led up to the Faraday Cage. ‘Gibson, you’re okay?’ she asked as she darted over to him.
He sat down on the bottom step holding his shoulder where a large bandage had been taped in place. ‘Surprisingly so actually, just a little groggy from the sleep, but yeah, I’m alright.’
‘That’s good to hear, and your shoulder?’
‘I get a couple of twinges, but nothing too bad.’ Gibson answered her, rolling his shoulders, testing his range of movement.
‘The injury wasn’t bad. The bullet just grazed you. You were lucky,’ the Doctor said.
‘I don’t feel lucky. I have a shocking headache,’ Gibson said.
‘That’ll be the hack,’ Frankie said. ‘You were attacked by the Corporations, they took control of your Nanobots and were trying to kill you with them. They would have succeeded, if not for the Doctor here. He deregistered your bots. They still work, but you’re not under any obligation to the Corps anymore.’
‘I’d still keep paying for your insurance, though,’ the Doctor said, ‘unless you want to answer some very awkward questions. But Frankie is being modest. I did not do this alone, she hacked your Cyberbrain and stopped the bots from killing you before I got a chance to work on you,’ said the Doctor.
‘Shit, it’s a regular love in here,’ Gibson said.
Frankie went to say something, opening her mouth, but then closed it again and thought better of it. There was no need to protest anything. Gibson was alive, which was enough for her.
A beeping noise sounded nearby. Frankie looked around her trying to locate it, only to see Gibson pull his datapad from his pocket and frown at the screen.
Someone was calling him, and he didn’t look too pleased about it judging from the frown on his face.
Gibson tapped the screen with his thumb, put it to his ear, and listened.
‘This is he,’ he said in answer to someone and waited once more. After hearing the person on the other end say something, he brought the pad away from his ear and tapped the screen once again. ‘Sorry, who? I didn’t quite catch that,’ he said.
‘This is Marissa Webb from Psytech Corporation,’ sounded a voice over the pads speakers. ‘I’m calling you to make an offer. You are working with two known criminals who we want to question over the deaths of a number or our employees. Bring them to us please, or we will be forced to take actions against you. You want to see your little girl again, don’t you Mr Gibson? How about your wife or your work colleagues? We’ll give you time to think about this Mr Gibson, but don’t take too long. You can reach us on this number,’ she said and hung up the phone.
Gibson looked up at her and the Doctor, a look of shock on his face.
‘Holy crap,’ Frankie sighed.
1.13
Gibson immediately started to tap on his pad furiously and within seconds held it up to his ear. In the now eerie silence of the warehouse, Frankie could hear the faint ringing from the pad from where she stood. The line clicked open after just two rings.
‘Camille, get out of there, get Steph and run, anywhere, and talk to no one…’
Frankie watched the frantic Detective suddenly stop talking and pull the pad away from his ear and tap the speaker icon once again, his eyes wide in terror.
‘…calling to warn your wife I see? I’m sorry, we can’t have that,’ said a familiar voice over the Pad speaker. It was Marissa Webb again from Psytech. ‘It would suggest that you do not plan on giving up your co-conspirators to us, and that will just not do. So, I’m afraid that we will have to take your wife and daughter into custody, just to be sure you understand.’
‘No, no, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… Look, I’m certain that we can work this ou…’
‘Goodbye Mr Gibson, I’m sure we will speak soon. I do hope you do the right thing, for your family’s sake if not your own,’ she said, and the line clicked off.
‘Shit,’ Gibson yelled in frustration as he tapped the screen of his phone and looked up at Frankie, desperation in his eyes.
‘Where’s your apartment?’ Frankie said.
‘What?’
‘Your apartment, where is it?’ Frankie repeated.
‘Downtown, the Milford Plaza building,’ he said, his shoulders sagging with a look of defeat about him. ‘What the hell do I do?’
‘Get dressed, we’re going,’ Frankie said forcefully.
Gibson looked up at her with an expression of curiosity, frowning in confusion.
‘You’re not going to tell me that you're giving up that easily, are you?’ Frankie said. ‘You’re not going to let them win, right?’
He seemed to contemplate her words for a moment, his body language changing as she watched, his drooping shoulders pulling back, his chest filling out once again until he looked back at her. ‘No, I won’t let them win,’ he said and pulled on his top that he had hung over his shoulder.
‘Good, let’s go, she said. She turned to see the Doctor pick a couple of guns out of a nearby drawer and check their chambers before he walked over and threw one of them at her. Frankie caught it in mid-air and looked over the handgun. It was nothing special, but it would help.
Frankie nodded her thanks to the Doctor. He seemed to be coming with them as well, which was just as well. She would have insisted if he had refused.
They all walked out of the warehouse into the cool night air. It was the early hours and still dark, but there was a freshness to the air that had somehow broken through the ever present smog.
Gibson climbed into the driver's seat; Frankie rode shotgun next to him while the Doctor sat in the back.
He wasted no time getting going, swinging out into traffic at the end of the alleyway and heading west, deeper into the city and away from the east docks.
They rose up well into mid-level, barrelling along elevated highways until the Detective’s apartment building rose into sight. They said nothing the whole way there, nothing needed to be said, they all knew what was at stake here, an
d they all knew what the odds of them getting Gibson’s family back alive were.
The Doctor was one thing, he was valuable to the Corporation, they wanted him alive. But they didn’t care about Gibson or his family.
The Detective pulled into the buildings parking level at speed, bouncing over the speed bumps in the road, the chassis of the car sparking as it hit them. He didn’t even really try and park properly. He just found a space close to the elevators and skidded to a halt in it, the tyres squealing as they stopped.
Frankie had the door open moments before the car came to a halt and climbed out in one swift movement, checking her gun as she walked around the vehicle and followed Gibson to the double doors that led to the bank of elevators.
Gibson prodded the call button several times in quick succession, his impatience clear. Frankie glanced at the Doctor who looked up at her as well. They didn’t say anything. They were quite sure what they would find.
Frankie checked her gun again. It hadn’t changed, there was still a round in the chamber, right where she had seen it moments ago.
‘Fucking come on,’ Gibson hissed at the lift doors.
Frankie took a step forward and gently put her hand on his shoulder. She saw him sigh and close his eyes.
‘I know,’ he said.
‘Try to calm down, you’re not going to be much help if you charge in there guns blazing and get yourself killed,’ she said, quietly and calmly.
‘I know.’
‘We’re with you,’ she said.
‘I know, I know.’
Frankie nodded, removed her hand and backed away. She’d said enough.
With a chime, the lift door opened and stood empty, waiting for them.
Gibson didn’t move, he just stood there, breathing, one long shaky breath after the other.
‘Gibson?’ Frankie said.
She watched as his whole body moved with one long breath, raising up with the inhale, and sinking back down with the exhale.
‘Gibson!’ she repeated.
The elevator doors chimed once more as the doors started to slide shut, but the Detective caught them with his hand, and they opened back up again as he stepped inside.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
Frankie and the Doctor followed him in, flanking him as they turned back to the door.
Gibson reached forward and keyed in the number for his floor, the touch pad reading his fingerprint as he did it.
A moment later the doors closed and the lift started to rise through the building. Frankie couldn’t help feeling a little more nervous about this, but that seemed odd to her. She’d been scared for several days now, but somehow, putting her own life on the line didn’t seem as terrible as knowing that the lives of two innocents were held in the balance.
‘How far from the Elevator is your apartment?’ Frankie asked.
‘Three corridors away, number 2019,’ he said without looking at her.
Frankie checked her gun, again, and then silently chastised herself for it. The hum of the rising elevator car lowered in tone as it finally slowed and came to a halt.
‘Floor 249,’ said the voice over the speakers.
Gibson took a step forward, and carefully looked each way along the corridors, Frankie moved up and joined him, flicking through the spectrums of light as she glanced each way, but saw nothing of interest.
No one was there.
‘It’s clear,’ she said.
Gibson stepped forward, out into the hallway and moved steadily but cautiously, occasionally glancing behind them and generally being careful. Frankie kept close behind him, her gun out, and like Gibson before her, held down by her side where it wasn’t easily visible. Moving up to a junction, Gibson glanced along the passageways, checking each direction.
‘Clear,’ he said and rounded the corner.
Frankie followed, and they walked past several apartments before they came to another intersection, and Gibson paused at the corner.
‘It’s down here,’ he whispered. ‘Three doors along.’
‘Want me to look?’ Frankie asked.
Gibson nodded, nervous energy and probably fear bubbling up inside him as he backed away from the corner and let Frankie take his place.
She moved up and exposed as little of herself as she could with a quick glance up the hallway.
It was all she needed.
‘So, what’s the situation?’ Gibson asked.
‘Two men, armed, stood at your door,’ she said.
‘How do you want to go about this?’ the Doctor asked.
Frankie turned to him. ‘You stay here. You’re too recognisable. Gibson and I will walk up pretending we’re residents minding our own business, and deal with them when we reach them. Hopefully, they won’t realise who we are before we reach them.’
‘Hopefully?’ Gibson said.
Frankie just smiled back. She didn’t have much of an answer for him really. She stuffed the gun into the back of her leggings and stepped up next to Gibson, threading her arm through his.
‘Let's go, my dear,’ she said. It was audacious, but that’s what made it appealing to her. Go big or go home.
Gibson nodded once at her and started forward.
‘So, I hear Maria is about to quit her job, not sure I think much of that,’ she said, making up any old story as she walked along the corridor holding onto Gibson’s arm. ‘She can barely afford to live here as it is. She’ll end up in the Undercity if she isn’t careful. Uh, would you look at that,’ she motioned to the two guards. They’d been watching the pair as they walked up, but as Frankie brought attention to them, they both looked away. A resident would notice armed guards outside one of the apartments here, and some of them would pass comment.
‘Who is it who lives there dear? Is it that scruffy detective man?’ she said as they reached the guards.
As they went to walk past them, Frankie span backwards and backhanded the first guard they reached with her fist. The man staggered sideways as Gibson attacked the other one. She moved in close to her target and kneed him in the stomach before using her left hand to lift up his head before she punched him again, dropping him to the floor where he finally lay still.
To her left, Gibson had incapacitated the second guard but was venting his anger at him, kicking him while the man lay unconscious on the ground.
Frankie walked up to him. ‘Gibson, calm down, he’s not going to be any more trouble. Come on, let’s get inside and move these two out of the hallway.’
He stopped kicking the man and moved to his door, unlocking it.
Frankie glanced up the corridor to see the Doctor peering around the corner. Frankie waved him forward. Between them, they dragged the two unconscious men into the apartment, binding and gagging them using the guard's own cuffs and whatever else they could find.
Under normal circumstances, Gibson’s apartment would probably be quite a nice one, with a good amount of space for the family of three, but there were clear signs of a struggle in here with furniture kicked over and shattered ornaments. No bullet holes in the walls, though, which Frankie supposed should be a positive sign.
Gibson hadn’t really helped much with the two men, leaving Frankie and the Doctor to sort them out while he ran through the rooms of his apartment, no doubt hoping to find his family, but they wouldn’t be here. Frankie was sure of that.
After a few moments, with the two guards secured, Gibson returned back to the main living space, his shoulders drooping, his face downcast with a look of defeat all over him.
Frankie felt sorry for him. She’d dragged him into this mess, and now he was paying the price.
‘I’m sorry, I should never have asked for your help,’ she said.
‘I’m a cop, it’s in my job description. Besides, I could have said no. I chose to help you, so this is on me, not you.’
‘You want to turn us in then? Make the exchange for your family?’ she asked.
Gibson sighed, looking more helpless by the second. ‘
I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to turn you guys in, hand you over to those monsters. I know what that would mean for you. But I want my family back too. I can’t lose them. What do you think Doc? Can I get them back?’
The Doctor frowned and pressed his lips together. ‘Honestly, I’m sceptical. They have limited use for them other than leverage against you. I’m sorry to say this, but I think it’s entirely possible that they are already dead, and even if you did hand us over to them, It’s highly likely they will kill you anyway, just for knowing too much and being a thorn in their side.’
‘Sounds like you’re not giving my family a high chance of getting through this unharmed,’ Gibson said.
‘No, I’m not, I’m sorry to say. You know the Corps as well as I do, you’re aware of their reputation, you know what they’re capable of and the lengths they will go to to protect themselves. So, what do you think their chances are?’
‘Shit.’ Gibson turned away from the Doctor and kicked an upended lamp across the living room floor.
I wouldn’t matter what Gibson did, whether he turned them in or not, the chances of the Corps letting him and his family walk away from this were decidedly small. As a police Detective, he’d seen the dark side of the Corps, he’d seen what they were capable of and the devastation they left behind. He’d seen them avoid any and all responsibility for any of their actions. Their influence over the justice system was complete.
Gibson’s Pad buzzed again. Pulling it from his pocket, he stabbed the screen with his thumb and held it to his ear. ‘What?’ he barked into the Pad.
‘What problems? he said a few moments later. ‘Shit, you’re sure? Okay, okay, where are you? Got it, we’ll be there shortly,’ he finished and hung up.
‘Whats up?’ Frankie asked.
‘Seems like Psytech wasn’t bluffing when they threatened my work colleagues. They’ve attacked my Police Station and taken hostages,’ he said.
‘What the hell? That’s insane,’ Frankie said, feeling more than a little shocked by the audacity of this attack.
‘My partner managed to get out of there, I said we’d meet her.’
Promethean Files 1: The New Prometheus Page 13