Running with the Horde (Book 2): Delusions of Monsters

by Joseph K. Richard

  An hour or so later Bill was taken from the interrogation room down an ancient musty corridor to an old fashioned jail cell. Shipman and Derrick were already inside. Morris had roughed him up enough to require that he lean on one of the guards to prevent himself from falling down while another guard unlocked the cell door. Derrick leapt to his feet like a cat at the sight of Bill’s face but one of the guards had his gun trained on him so there was really nothing he could do.

  They pushed Bill through the door and he stumbled to the cold cement floor coming to rest near Shipman’s legs. The man with the gun turned his attention to Derrick, “You are coming with us. I need you to put your arms through the slot so we can cuff you,” he said.

  “You okay, Bill?” Derrick asked as he complied with the order.

  He squinted up at Derrick through swollen eyes. What they needed more than anything right now was a way out of here. “I’m fine, Derrick, just another day navigating the maze of Minneapolis bureaucracy. You know what happens when you stir the pot,” Bill said.

  Derrick grunted as they led him away, the message was received.

  “What happens when you stir the pot?” asked Shipman as he helped Bill to his feet and settled him on the metal bench.

  “A real shit storm,” Bill replied quietly.

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Bill said.

  It was maybe 30 minutes later when the gunfire and screaming started. Perhaps another 15 minutes before Bill and Shipman heard the heavy steel door that guarded the main entrance to the old cell block being unlocked. Then came the sound of two men moving quickly down the center of the block and keys jangling. One man seemed to be crying and the other was silent but breathing heavy like a bear.

  The guard came into view first. He looked like he had been hit by a car. His right leg was broken but he was hopping gamely along on his good leg. The agonized and terrified look on the man’s face spoke volumes as to the epic shit storm he was currently enduring. Derrick came along behind him armed like he’d just walked off the set of an 80’s action flick. He had a small cut on his neck but other than that looked no worse for the wear.

  “This one of the fuckers that messed you up, Bill?” asked Derrick while they waited for the hapless guard to unlock the door.

  Bill looked the whimpering man up and down, “No, it wasn’t him.”

  “Oh well, sorry, dude,” Derrick said before smacking him on the back of the head with the butt of the assault rifle. “Let’s go gents,” he said to Bill and Shipman, “The cavalry is gonna be here soon and we need to be gone. I’m good but I’m not superman.”

  Between Shipman and Derrick they wrangled Bill out of the dungeon and up a couple of flights of stairs. Bill noted the bodies of several men scattered about. Some of them were wearing suits and others guard uniforms. “Sheesh, Derrick, how many men did you drop?”

  “Feds at that,” added Shipman.

  “They weren’t FBI any more than we are,” Derrick said, “and I stopped counting after ten.”

  They pushed through a door that said exit and found themselves on the main floor of the Government Center and right into the lunch hour of John Q. Public. The building wasn’t as busy as usual given the flu scare but the sight of the three men still caused quite a stir. They moved as fast as they could through the crowd. A security guard made for the radio on his belt but froze after a cold stare from Derrick.

  “I wonder how they didn’t hear that gunfire.” Bill said.

  “There was some pretty sophisticated sound proofing down there,” Derrick said. “Whoever those people were, we just escaped from a place where they’ve been pulling fingernails uninterrupted for years.”

  The crossed the sidewalk to a cab and were inside before the terrified cabbie could speed away.

  “Head north out of the city and floor it,” Bill said.

  “If you boys wouldn’t mind, just drop me off at the next corner and I will make my own way home,” Shipman said.

  “Oh, hell no. You’re the ace in the hole. Those morons had the answer to their question rotting away in that cell with us and didn’t even know it,” Bill said.

  “What the hell are you talking about? I will tell you the same thing I told them. I know nothing!” Shipman raged.

  “Shipman,” Derrick growled, “today is not a good day to lie.” The gangly man seemed to shrivel under Derrick’s gaze and he uttered no further protest.

  They had the cabbie drop them off in the North Loop. Bill threw a hundred dollar bill at him and waited impatiently until he sped away. They moved one block east and piled into another cab which took them to South Minneapolis. Three more random taxis from different companies took them around the city until they ended up on the eastside at an apartment complex in a part of town one might consider rough. Derrick kept a safe house there under an alias. Bill had chided him for years about not letting it go. The chances they would ever need such a thing seemed slim. Now he was relieved Derrick hadn’t listened.

  There were people loitering in the large commons area of the property. They started moving in the direction of Bill and Shipman but turned around immediately when they spotted Derrick who had been dealing with the cab driver. “C’mon, fellas,” he said, “My royal suite awaits.”

  The apartment itself had seen better days but it was clean and well stocked. All three men took turns with the facilities and got themselves squared away from their ordeal in the bowels of the Government Center.

  Bill threw together some food which included grilled cheese, coffee and bourbon and the three men gathered around the tiny kitchen table. “More I’m thinking about it, I don’t think those guys were FBI,” Bill said sarcastically.

  “They could have been feds but they were something else as well,” Derrick added. “Any thoughts, Shipman?”

  “Time to come clean, Nolan. Whatever side you thought you were on. Those guys now think you are with us. I’m thinking Derrick and I are your best chance to see another day,” Bill said.

  Nolan blanched; he looked like he had been through hell. He simply nodded as he took a small bite from his grilled cheese. “They first made contact with me about 15 years ago,” he said between mouthfuls. Bill did a spit take at this revelation but Shipman ignored him. “It was always by phone or courier. I know I’ve talked to more than one person but I’ve only ever known them by the code name Control.”

  “What did they want with you?” Derrick asked.

  “As you know I have done quite a few real estate deals for the government as well as some private parties over the years after the DIA disbanded. You probably won’t be surprised to learn they weren’t all entirely on the up and up,” he added sheepishly. “I built kind of a reputation as someone who could make things happen and keep things quiet.

  “Make what kinds of things happen?”

  “Fill in the blank; motivate a stubborn seller, set up business fronts that seem legitimate, hell, you name it I’ve done it. I only worked through trusted referrals and I wasn’t cheap. I guess that’s how they found me. Started having me make discreet real estate purchases here in the city as well as a handful of other places around the country. Wasn’t too long before they were my only client and I still had no fucking idea who I was dealing with. But I was able to piece together a few things. I learned they are a syndicate with a vast and powerful network. Their reach appears to be everywhere.”

  “Funny they’d never heard of the DIA?” said Bill.

  “All I can figure there,” Shipman said, “is that the DIA was built by someone who was aware of the Syndicate and wanted to put a few pieces on the board that were purposefully kept outside their reach. Didn’t you think it was funny that funding for the DIA just stopped all of a sudden? Like somebody turned off the power? It was almost as though somebody at the very top got spooked and just shut everything down very discreetly and counted on his assets to be smart and go away quietly. You’ll note guys like us don’t typical
ly get to retire. We all just went with the flow and moved on with our lives.”

  “Some of us better than others apparently,” Bill said.

  “You don’t need to gloat, Bill, I’ve made some poor choices. But, damn, the money was so good! I made so much I started building my own empire, discreetly of course.”

  “Who is gloating now?”

  “Hell, you had your chance to get in. Every time I saw you I said I had business ventures I wanted to discuss with you. My partners and I would have welcomed someone with your experience.”

  “The fact you could have used someone with wet work expertise speaks volumes as to the quality of the business ventures you had in mind. I’m glad I had the good sense to pass. As to your partners, are they still alive?”

  “I was discreet. I only dealt with people of similar qualities to me. I can assure you they are alive and well.”

  “So they are snakes?”

  Nolan ignored him again, “I was DIA too, remember? Hell, those assholes are probably going to be set-up better than anyone when the shit hits the fan.”

  “So you believe that message from Andrew Penrod is the real deal?”

  “Don’t you watch the news? Of course it’s real and I think it’s already started. Look, I’ve known this Syndicate was planning on doing something terrible for a long time. I just had no idea what it would be and I was in too deep to do anything about it. I realized long ago that if I went public I would be a laughing stock or they would kill me so I kept quiet. I assumed it would be some kind of coupe attempt or a regime change or a war. I thought greed and power was the driving force but Andrew’s super virus means it is something else entirely.”

  “Doesn’t mean it’s not about greed and power,” Bill mused.

  “Where were you planning to go when this Syndicate made their move?” Derrick asked.

  “I had a place built south of the cities. It’s like a fortress. I figured I wouldn’t have to worry about the Syndicate because of all I’ve done for them.”

  “Thought you’d be protected like a favored pet?” Bill quipped.

  “Exactly,” Nolan said, clearly not catching the insult.

  “So why build a fortress if you’d be protected?”

  “C’mon, Bill. I meant the Syndicate wouldn’t go out of its way to kill me. The fortress is to protect everything I’ve built from the masses if things really go south.

  “Protection from the villagers when they are scared and starving?” Derrick said.

  “Something like that,” Shipman said. He was starting to squirm in his seat under the scrutiny.

  “Why did they take you today? How did you fall out of their good graces?” Bill asked.

  “It’s that shit Chip sent me. Yes, I received the same package you did. Then Area 51 blows up. Something went wrong and the Syndicate is in full panic mode. I have no idea what the hell happened.”

  “That’s why you put the hit on us? To cover your own ass?” Derrick asked.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shipman stuttered, a glassy sheen of sweat making an appearance on his forehead.

  “Don’t bother, Nolan, I knew you were hiding something when I came to visit. I dropped a bug in your pocket and heard the whole conversation.

  Shipman looked like he might cry as he tried to look Bill in the eye while simultaneously stealing nervous glances at Derrick. “A few days after I got that package in the mail I got a call from Control. They told me not to open any strange packages. They started asking how I knew Chip Fielding and how I knew you. I was to call them if you made contact. Naturally I had already opened the package from Chip. As far as the hit goes, I’m sorry, I panicked. I hope you also heard me try to call it off,” he said.

  “That, old friend, is the only reason you are still alive today,” Bill said. He decided to stop torturing the man before he became completely useless. “Maybe it isn’t too late. If we can find Andrew Penrod maybe we can get ahead of this thing. Maybe Andrew has a cure or something and we can get it out there before the virus kills everybody.”

  “How?” Shipman asked.

  “Those goons showed me their hand when they thought I still had something useful to share. They claim Andrew blew up Area 51 and escaped to Minneapolis with some dangerous materials. They are pretty desperate to find him.”

  “They think Chip Fielding’s snot-nosed, wisp of a step-kid did all that? Anyway according to his coded message he was trying to stop the Syndicate,” Shipman said incredulously.

  “Maybe he grew up to be a badass or maybe they didn’t tell me everything they knew but the point is that he is here somewhere in the city and you can help us find him. Did you keep records of every real estate purchase you brokered for the Syndicate?”

  “Of course I did but there were hundreds.”

  “I’m willing to bet one or two of those aren’t quite like the others. Where are the records?”

  “They are hidden in my apartment back at the Nic,” Shipman said.

  “Then we wait until dark, head over there and get them and hope to God the Syndicate doesn’t find them first.”

  “One that front, gentlemen, I can assure there is no chance,” Shipman said, smiling for the first time since they’d seen him. “You know they’re going to have people watching the place.

  “That’s why I’m going to bring some friends,” answered Derrick. Then he ducked out of the room with his cell phone.

  …

  Just after darkness fell, Derrick’s friends arrived at the complex in two blacked out SUVs. They were ten of the toughest looking customers Bill had ever seen. He had no idea how Derrick knew them. He had stopped questioning the big man’s methods years ago. Derrick led his colleagues into the family room of the apartment to discuss the night’s objective and tactics. Bill sat across from shipman in the moonlit kitchen. The ambient light made his old friend look like he’d just crawled out of a drawer at the morgue. Eventually the quiet conversational tones from the other room faded away and Derrick popped his head back into the kitchen. “Where’d you hide the flash drive, Nolan,” Derrick asked.

  “Well, I will have to show you,” Shipman started but Derrick cut him off.

  “No, you and Bill aren’t going. Tonight belongs to the young and fleet of foot. No offense, Bill”

  “None taken,” Bill said.

  Shipman wasted a few more seconds grumbling but then got down to business and wrote down explicit instructions to where Derrick would find the drive. Derrick read the paper and grimaced. “Please tell me you’re fucking with me,” he said. Shipman shrugged and gave Derrick an evil smile. “Fine,” Derrick said and headed out. His men had already left in a quiet, orderly fashion.

  Soon the apartment settled back to an uncomfortable silence until Bill said, “So where did you hide it?”

  Shipman grinned, “It’s in the freezer in one of my stool samples.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good spot. Kind of a pain in the ass when you had to update it though I bet.”

  “Oh yes, it was quite an unfortunate process.”

  “Gross. When they get back you are cleaning it.”

  “Fair enough,” said Shipman.

  One hour turned to three and then to five as Bill kept watch looking out the window for Derrick and his crew. Every siren and loud noise made him jump. He kept waiting to hear a torrent of distant gunfire but it never came. He was worried but not yet ready to panic. Shipman had been dozing on the shabby couch since midnight. Bill hadn’t bothered rousing him to take a turn at the window. He wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyway. Waiting always had that effect on him. Around three in the morning he spotted first one SUV and then the other as they turned into the complex.

  “Wake up, Nolan,” Bill said. Shipman sat up and stretched his long legs to a series of cracks.

  Ten minutes later Derrick was back inside with three of his men in tow. “Success,” he said as he flipped a small zipped baggie filled with a dark substance at Shipman. He missed the
catch and the bag bounced off his nose. He stifled a curse, picked the bag up off the rug and disappeared into the bathroom to begin the retrieval process.

  “I’ve always told him nobody likes a brownnoser,” Bill said as he watched him disappear down the hallway. He turned back to Derrick, “Did you have any problems?” he asked.

  “You might say that. They had three cars worth of guys surrounding the place. One in the lobby, a couple on Shipman’s floor and two more in his apartment tearing the place apart. Thanks to Shipman’s instructions we were able to get in without engaging the men outside but things got a little dicey after that. Though I have to say there is something fascinating about a fight in which both sides are trying to be silent. It’s kind of like a ballet and monster-truck derby mash-up.”

  “Sounds terrible. Were there casualties?”

  “Two on our side and six on theirs but no civvies were hurt though we did scare the shit out of some dudes partying in the lounge. That place is pretty nice. At least it used to be.”

  “Did you learn anything about our enemy?”

  “Not much, those guys were good not great. Most of them were contractors. The guys in the apartment seemed like something more. They didn’t go down easy. It would have been nice if we could have taken one of them alive.”

  “Well you made it back alive and you got the drive, that’s the important thing.”

  “Let’s just hope it was worth it.”

  Shipman appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later with one very clean flash drive in his hand. “I hope one of you has a computer and remember I told you there were a lot of land deals so this isn’t going to be easy,” he said as he tried to hand the flash drive to Bill.

  “I’m not touching that fucking thing,” Bill said as he pointed to the laptop on the table.

  “It’s clean,” Nolan insisted but fit it into the USB port anyway.

  Nolan Shipman showed them where the files were located and how he had them categorized. It only took a few minutes for Bill and Derrick to see there were hundreds of records for property purchases in the syndicate file. Both men groaned at this revelation. “It was a busy 15 years,” Nolan grumbled.