by Phillip Shaw
‘What, happened, all those people, their faces, what did that to them?'
Carrying the traumatised Scarlett out the way they came in Kane looked down at his watch. Four minutes, like clockwork.
45. Boxed
Arbitan paced up and down the apartment as he had done for a few hours. Kim dressed like she hadn't in years sat going over the final preparations for their escape. She had already called into the precinct declaring she and her partner were following up on a lead and would be dark for a few days. Luckily she got the temp in the department and no questions were asked. By the time, they dug deeper it would hopefully be too late. There had been a drive and purpose since they got to the apartment but the events of the last few hours had slowed the pace.
It started with a feeling, Arbitan had been commenting every few minutes on more details he knew about the building and the people going in and out, Kim was in awe at the details coming from her guest. Like he had said before there were no specifics, just the knowledge taken from the eyes of another, it was all going so well until it stopped. The person who was watching was no longer there. Kim had tried to take this as a positive but Arbitan would hear none of it, he continued to pace and call out tactics for getting out of the building. Kim had been jotting down these plans in amazement; the most advanced S.W.A.T. commander she knew couldn't come up with half of them. After deliberation, they had settled on going through the front doors in public. If someone was going to make a move on them it would give them the most time to get a bead on them and escape on the fly. That had been the plan before the watcher disappeared, now there was confusion, exit through the kitchens would expose them to the hotel CCTV and eyewitness accounts, calling a squad car would leave another trail but worst of all the front door was now the unknown before there was a chance of elimination on sight.
Kim stood and walked to get a glass of water for them both, she stopped suddenly catching sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair was dark and cropped tight to her head in a feminine style and her clothes had shaved years of her life. Her guest was right she could pass for someone in her twenties. The small confidence boost that gave was short lived as she heard him call from the living room.
‘Kim, can I have a cup of tea? We will be setting off soon.'
‘No problem.' She answered. The façade of this all-powerful leader was not as dominant now and she believed that he was worried. Hell, I'm worried too. My brain feels like a hundred people are pulling it in a number of directions only they aren't pulling me, I'm leading them.
Agent McCall sat with Flint and Jiménez in the front of the van focussed on the digital dossier of the two suspects.
Kim Clements, age 48, sexual orientation straight, weight 50 kg, height 171 cm.
Training – Advanced combat, marksmanship, negotiation, and forensics.
Confirmed career kills, 15
‘We don't need to know anymore, how come she wasn't considered for the order?'
Flint answered, ‘Her mind wasn't strong enough, despite all her qualities which outweigh many of our American recruits her mind was too easily turned by a pretty face. How do you think she got herself into that trouble? I have been monitoring her for a year and the day I decide there is nothing of worth…'
‘This happens, she runs off with someone suspected of being a mythical demigod or at the very least a powerful adept or denouncer. Would sort of make you question your analytical skills, Dr Flint?'
‘I won't dignify that McCall.'
Jiménez threw his cigarette out the window. ‘What are our orders? We can't just sit out here watching them until they come out.'
‘That's exactly what we do. When they come out we tail them, we don't know enough about their motives to strike. Besides, I'm in no rush to end up like one of those agents from Massaro's building.'
Jiménez grunted and went back to staring at the door, stakeouts were not his thing.
Kim did one final check of the equipment, most of it wouldn't make it through airport security but he had asked her to pack it anyway. She thought there had to be something he knew. Her squad car would have to be used as there were no others nearby, the tracker could be easily turned off but still they would need to ditch it away from the airport. She noticed movement beside her and saw that he was ready, bag on shoulder and packing a weapon she thought he looked like some kind of action film star. She gathered her own bag and followed him out closing the door behind her she couldn't help think she was closing the door on her old life. The apartment held some happy memories but they had been forever tarnished by the last eighteen months. She didn't look back as she made for the lobby, taking her key off the ring she dropped it into her mailbox and emerged into the early morning sunlight, Manhattan was sparkling in the sun, she had always wondered how it was so bright with the buildings so high, wherever they were headed she knew she wouldn't be seeing these sights again.
McCall kept her cool the targets had emerged and they wouldn't be waiting much longer. Flint got out and went back to his car he wasn't cut out for field work and he knew he would get in the way. McCall and Jiménez were the best at wet work in the country and they knew any time they were called in there was a good chance they would be disposing of someone, the chance to test themselves against this false idol was something both had looked forward to. As their targets moved off in the vehicle they slowly slipped off behind.
Arbitan sat in the passenger seat of the car as it moved through the streets, the sudden loss of new knowledge from the building had troubled him, he wasn't used to this many threats against him especially before he had a chance to assess his surroundings. His new lieutenant had proven invaluable so far and he had no reason to doubt her prowess. She certainly had been better than that overweight rat that she replaced. Therein was the crux of his worry, if the existing chosen in this world had been corrupted so badly would he have to replace them all? His only course of action was to seek out the one whose name was cropping up more than others, Thomas Blain. Almost every bit of knowledge he had seemed to come from him. He could tell what the inside of his building was like, he knew he ran a tight ship based on meritocracy and he knew London was the place to find him. Luckily there was something he kept from his new partner; he would leave it until he got to the airport.
Darkness was one of Jenny Darcy's childhood fears, darkness and a lack of air. Now here she was facing both, the hood over her head kept the light out but the soaked gag in her mouth was the issue, clearly soaked in some form of chemical she had blacked out repeatedly anytime she bit down on the gag, the only way she was awake now was by consciously keeping her mouth open. She quickly struggled against her bonds. Her feet were free but her wrists were tightly held together by some kind of plastic, any struggle would tear her wrists to pieces. The movement of the van had jolted her back awake this time and it was still moving. From the staccato nature, they were still in Manhattan traffic, but she had no way to tell how long she had been out for. She had no desire to go to the bathroom so it couldn't have been more than a few hours. Slipping onto her backside she felt her back against the door of the van. How has this happened to me? Today of all days, I knew my life was going too well, I'll never get my story to Blain at this rate. It's not fair… She sobbed deeply but quietly into her hood. The vehicle stopped suddenly and her head bounced off the door when it came back again the hood had stuck to the wall of the van. Another sharp pull and it started to move. It was no use, still the hood stayed on her head. She turned and heard a ripping noise; it's stuck on a nail. Twisting sharply back and forward she ripped the hood so she could see from the corner of her left eye. She was still in the back of the van; two people were in the front seats one white female and one Latin American male. Stretching further she saw the remains of her cameraman, the pool of blood were all over the floor and no doubt staining her clothes. No time to think about this, I need to find out who they are. Lying down again she edged closer to the back of the seats. Jenny Darcy undercover journalist.
&nbs
p; Arbitan smiled, ‘Kim, don't panic but we are being followed. Two agents in a silver media van are following us. Whoever was watching the house is tied up in the back of it. They must have been unconscious and have just woken up. She doesn't know who they are but I think we can guess. Check your mirror is there a van following us?'
‘In this traffic anyone could be following but I can make one out a few cars back. If it's the one they have had training in keeping their distance. I didn't even notice them.'
‘Are you ready to fight?'
‘At least, you're asking me this time. I didn't get a warning in Massaro's building.'
‘Humour is not beyond me, my enemies are the ones who frown upon it. But then I guess it's easy to see the humour in life when you always win. We need to find a suitable venue, find somewhere to take these two down. The hostage in the back might lead us somewhere interesting.'
‘McCall, they're pulling into that car park'
‘At this time of day it will be deserted, have they made us?'
‘I can't say. You were following at a safe distance. Let them pull in and we will follow in a few moments. Take a tour of the block.'
Arbitan and Kim's vehicle went into the car park and pressed the button for a ticket, heading up to the top floor he sat with his head fixated out the back window. They have to be following. Kim parked the car and they got out leaving it open. Two parking attendants appeared to offer a car wash. Kim didn't need to look to her left when they fell. She knew what the plan was; quickly she grabbed one of the bodies and put it in the driver seat. Arbitan placed the other so it looked like they were in an embrace. She shot him a look and he simply smiled. ‘I told you humour was not lost on me, Kim.' They took their places a few cars down and waited.
McCall surveyed the car park until they found the suspect vehicle; she tapped Jiménez on the shoulder before circling the van around the car. The pair inside seemed to be in some sort of tryst.
‘Jim, you seeing this? I do believe our demigod has stopped for some morning delight in a car park. I think that gives us all we need to take them out. Whoever this is the world won't miss them.'
‘How are we doing this?'
‘I don't think there's any need for professionalism here, let rip through the windows drive-by style. It will be just another gangland killing.'
McCall readied her weapon as they stopped to the side of the vehicle, Jiménez started the bullets thudding into the doors, the bullets would travel right through the vehicle taking shrapnel from the doors with them. McCall lifted her rifle out and aimed, she knew it was a squad car so her armour piercing bullets would make sure, just as she put a bullet into each of the skulls she saw a blood stain on the ground across from the car. She went to tap Jiménez on the shoulder but he had stopped firing.
‘Jim, there's blood over there, Jim? Jim?'
Arbitan saw the realisation in the face of the agent as she saw the hole in her partner's head, he squeezed the trigger again.
46. The Leader
Libero could feel the strength around him evaporating like water in the sun. He had gotten them all back to the enclave in complete silence. Pamela surprisingly was the strongest around him but he knew she would need attention shortly. Scarlett lay in Kane's big arms motionless and barely blinking. She had craved this revenge her whole life, it had fuelled her and motivated her to be the person she was. Now after the death of the Magister, she was in a state of extreme shock, which threatened to overcome her fledgling abilities.
To an outsider, the mission had been a complete success. There were no losses among their people and the target had been eliminated. The issue was the collateral damage. There were two distinct things that happened when a magister was killed. Libero had now seen both examples in the short time he had been reborn. The prison death turned the drones into crazed killers and now the killing of the petroleum C.E.O. had destroyed the minds of his subjects, killing them all. There could be no escape from what happened now, the national media would be all over this and then the hunt for them would begin, someone had to take control of the situation.
‘On your feet! You wanted to know who I was, what we were fighting against! Well, now you know. We are fighting the greatest threat to freedom on this planet. I was happy to sit here and watch how you were fighting back but that time is over. The weakness and horror in this room mean nothing to me. Those people were already gone, we couldn't help them. The only thing we can do is fight for the rest of the world. I need your help; we need to build an army capable of taking them all down. We have to end it this time…'
Jenson Kane set his weeping lover down and squared up to Libero.
‘What do you mean this time?'
‘We have never triumphed before, that is why they are so strong. They have never tasted defeat, I … we have failed on every previous occasion. This is my seventh rebirth. When the world begins to reject the false reality and restrictions placed on it I am reborn. Every time I have been reborn I have gotten closer.'
‘But you have failed. What hope do we have, what makes, this time, different?'
‘You have already answered your questions, Kane. Hope is exactly what we have. Hope is an emotion not recognised by our enemies, hope, freedom, inspiration, creativity and any number of other tags you can place upon the feeling you all know you have within you. I will help you harness it; I will let it take you upon the journey to discover your true potential. But I won't promise you victory.'
The palpable range of emotions in the room was more than a challenge to Libero, his mere presence acted as the amplifier to these emotions, unchecked without the nagging voice in the back of people's minds these emotions could take them to the greatest heights imaginable or could tip them over the edge into the abyss of despair. He looked slowly around the room to see if there were any warning signs among the gathered operations team. Names would come later but they seemed an eclectic bunch. Drawn from all sections of the society embedded in his host's memories he could see that they were the outsiders in normal society. Tattoos, piercings and a general unease in social situations they flocked to strong personalities. He stopped acutely aware of more people watching through the windows. The tech teams and server geeks had all stopped as well and gathered to listen to him. This was his moment, like years before speaking to various tribes after besting their leaders in mortal combat he now had the attention of them all. It was here his power shone through. They couldn't answer the reasons why but they knew he was the common denominator. He felt all their emotions and felt their inhibitions break. Slowly but surely cheers broke out he turned and saw Scarlett leading the cheer, Pamela was behind her blood pumping through her veins screaming. He couldn't make out any of the words but the positivity was there. He was riding it like the crest of an ocean wave.
The dust had settled and it was time to reflect, the last few hours had been tough on the inhabitants of the enclave but since Libero spoke out the healing process had begun. The feeling that they were mass murderers had gone, now there was the thirst for knowledge. They needed to know why it had happened. Libero had taken the time to speak to anyone that had questions but there needed to be a strategy now. Some had baulked at his revelations like he was a crazed false prophet but he had responded with the facts, he just referred to the image on the large screen taken from the head camera on one of the tactical team. The video had been analysed a few times already.
When the mission started, the shaky descent from the roof of the multi-storey car park had been rapid, none of the passing pubic had taken any notice as they entered the building, the frenzied firefight in the lobby was surreal to see on film. The weapons were all silenced so despite the war going on the absence of gunfire lent the footage an artistic slant. Libero shook his head at that thought, another remnant of the host seeping through into his thoughts. The clinical elimination of everyone on the way up to the auditorium made some in the room gasp. Tellingly neither, Pamela, Jenson or Scarlett flinched at the horrors in front of them. Only
Scarlett showed any emotion when the auditorium scene was shown again looking away as the camera scanned around the hundreds of dead faces. The soldier's helmet then showed Libero taking charge, getting everyone out and Kane carrying Scarlett. There was no need for analysis. The operation had been a complete success. The arrogance of the agents guarding the building had cost them dearly. Libero retreated with his three generals to the boardroom.
The cannibalised monitors hummed as the news feeds went through them. The news of the attack hadn't been broken to the world yet, there would be families missing loved ones. Businesses would be crippled and most importantly there would be a vacuum in that area. A vacuum that someone would try to fill.
‘The news will break; it's only a matter of time. When it does we need to go deeper underground, you're grudge against the company can be traced, Scarlett.'
Scarlett nodded her head as Libero continued.
‘While we were planning this operation has there been anything else unusual on the news?'
‘Nothing that would tie to us.'
Scarlett pulled a screen to the others and began hitting up the major news sites in the world. The stories flashed all over, strange deaths, mass terror attacks and government responses.
Pamela spoke up, ‘Scarlett can you apply a filter?'
‘I already have a few filters on anymore you can suggest?'