Soldiers Field: Prequel to the Octagon Series

by JK Ellem

  “Have you ever seen anything like this before?” Kobe asked. He certainly hadn’t but then he had only been on the streets for a few months.

  “Never,” she replied, her voice still cold and devoid of emotion.

  A curtain of light drizzle started to fall. The drops of rain sliced downwards like tiny daggers under the halogen lights of the drone. Suddenly, the hovering drone rose vertically and started to perform a searching sweep of the surrounding area, flying low over the rooftops. With the victim’s DNA now confirmed and uploaded into its powerful sensors, the drone would automatically map the entire crime scene, including all buildings, rooftops and other structures within a one-mile radius, looking for any trace DNA on any surface, including blood and bodily fluids. It would then create a full-size holographic rendering of the entire location, to scale and in exact proportion that would be used later so investigators could do a virtual walkthrough of the crime scene back at the labs. The Octagon servers contain thousands of crime scene holographs, all recorded and safely stored for future review to be used as evidence.

  “That’s strange.” Kobe frowned at the scrolling lines of data on his screen.

  “What?” De Soto stood up, moving closer, almost touching Kobe’s arm.

  “Her file is clamped. I can’t retrieve much on her, apart from a photo and a few personal details.”

  A digital “clamp” was a Class A restriction placed on a citizen’s personal data. Access was denied to all but the highest level of the executives. Only the Bureau of Public Order, or BPO, could restrict a file to that level. Normally, law enforcement would still have access to all citizen files regardless of restrictions. But in this case, the girl’s file had restricted access and was digitally clamped from further inquiry.

  “Why would a fourteen-year-old be sent for reconditioning then turn up beaten and tortured to death and also have a Class A restriction placed on her file?” De Soto said, looking at the screen of Kobe’s PDA as he held it to her. She turned back to the body, her facial expression changing ever so slightly, as though she had just realized something. Her own PDA chimed at the same time as Kobe’s did again. She didn’t need to look at hers to know the notification that had landed on it and what it meant.

  “The BPO is inbound. ETA 2 minutes,” Kobe read from his screen, not making the link that De Soto had.

  As soon as the drone had uploaded the DNA and had a match on the victim, it would have discovered the girl had a Class A restriction on her file. Standard procedure dictated that the Bureau of Public Order, who issued such restrictions, be automatically notified. The drone would have sent an encoded message to the BPO, advising them that one of their restricted files had now turned up dead.

  “Christ,” muttered De Soto, “that’s all we need. The BPO goons turning up.”

  Instinctively she started to look around the alley, searching for someone or something. She felt suddenly exposed, self-conscious that they were, even now, being watched. Everything was being recorded by the drone, even them, their actions, their movements, and their conversations. All recorded and transmitted back to the BPO to be held on their “dark” servers. They were termed “dark” as they were hidden in blackness, cut off from all other networks, yet they still tapped into the flow of all data and information that flowed through Octagon’s servers and networks. It was like a one-way stream where the BPO absorbed all information but reflected nothing back.

  The BPO was the primary unit of Octagon. It was a shadowy, secretive, clandestine department whose main purpose was to maintain public order. It operated across all companies within the Octagon eight, crossing boundaries, departments and divisions with almost free rein and unhindered as it carried out its all-encompassing charter of enforcing order amongst all citizens. It was accountable to no-one except the Collective, that inner circle of Octagon that was comprised of the eight directors.

  De Soto had had her fair share of run-ins with the BPO, when they crossed the jurisdiction of law enforcement and intervened in her cases. She detested the BPO because of how they operated. They could be brutal and cruel in their methods, dispensing instant justice to keep public order. There was no proportionate response with the Bureau, just immediate retribution.

  De Soto felt the air change slightly in the narrow alleyway, like the temperature had dropped a few degrees, bleeding away some of her warmth as the atmosphere subtly shifted.

  “They’re here,” she said, turning away from Kobe.

  Kobe glanced back down the dark alleyway to where she was now looking. The muted light seemed to dim even further, almost like it was being sucked back into the distance. Kobe noticed De Soto suddenly alter her posture, like she was tensing her muscles, drawing in her stomach towards her core, lifting and pulling back her shoulders.

  She was shifting into threat mode.

  Kobe squinted at the far end of the alley. He felt his shoulders involuntarily tense and prickliness spread up his spine. The walls there narrowed and blurred, converging into a wall of inky blackness. As Kobe stood beside her, he could feel it too, a presence coming towards them. Something malevolent. Hostile. Like an approaching predator.

  2

  It was a subtle movement but not missed by Kobe. De Soto moved her right hand closer to her sidearm, the inside of her forearm now touching the grip of the weapon, fingers relaxed.

  At the far end of the alley, the wall of darkness shifted and rippled like black fabric. It parted and three figures materialized like wraiths from the underworld. One figure led in front with two much larger shapes flanking each side. Despite still being some distance away, De Soto could already tell from the short height and the hunched gait who the lead figure was.

  Magnus Krell, the Head of the Bureau of Public Order.

  Krell was a particularly nasty, narcissistic man who used the enormous power that he wielded to compensate for his physical shortcomings. Slight of frame, hunched and short in stature, his ferret-faced features, dark beady eyes and slicked-back oily black hair hid a clever and highly intelligent individual. Despite his physical demeanor giving the appearance of a weak and challenged individual, he was cruel, manipulative and totally ruthless in his role. With unfettered access to the ear of every member of the Collective, it was said that Krell could bend and shape the vast direction of Octagon itself to suit his own brutal ambitions. Day or night, he wore his signature black uniform: a high-collar black tunic and black breeches with knee-high black jack-boots that were polished like glossy crude oil.

  The two hulking shapes that lumbered forward on either side of Krell were Enforcers. The Enforcers were the elite guard of the Bureau. Whilst law enforcement officers like Kobe and De Soto maintained general law and order of the population, the Enforcers intervened to quell dissention or assist when law enforcement could not cope. They rarely engaged with law enforcement personnel and they took their orders directly from the Bureau. Their primary role was to enforce the directives of the Bureau, and they had total immunity from repercussions in carrying out that role, no matter how zealous. Numerous times, the Enforcers had overstepped their mark in public and overruled the LE officers, often dishing out unwarranted brutal and excessive force. Civil disobedience was what they hunted, and they crushed it with uncompromising force.

  One particular situation still remained fresh in De Soto’s memory, when she was a First Year Officer, just as Kobe was now, fresh out of the LEA and full of beans. She and her mentor officer had detained and were questioning a suspected drug dealer in the street. In broad daylight, a nearby Enforcer intervened and beat the suspect to death with their baton. Innocent bystanders and a group of schoolchildren looked on in horror. When De Soto’s partner stepped in, he was beaten unconscious. Without thinking and just reacting on pure adrenalin and her training, De Soto drew her sidearm and fired at the Enforcer. Unfortunately for De Soto, her weapon was only set to stun. The stun round would have flattened any normal person, laying them out cold for about twenty minutes, but not an Enforcer. The
round from De Soto’s weapon hit the Enforcer almost at point blank range squarely in the front chest plate of their body armor and bounced off, like a bug hitting a concrete wall.

  Defiantly De Soto stood her ground, even when the Enforcer gripped her wrist like a vice with one hand and brought up their shock baton in the other hand, raising it high, ready to split her skull in half in one fatal blow. All of a sudden the Enforcer froze, cocked their head slightly as though receiving a transmission into their helmet coms. They then abruptly lowered the baton, released their vice-like grip on De Soto’s wrist and stood down.

  Word soon made the rounds at the Academy that a First Year Officer had taken a shot at an Enforcer and then stood their ground toe-to-toe with it. De Soto’s actions, some said, were stupid, while others said they were heroic. But either way, they were enshrined into Academy folklore.

  As the BPO party approached, Magnus Krell made a small gesture with his hand, halting the two flanking Enforcers behind him whilst he continued forward until he stood in front of Kobe and De Soto.

  Kobe had often seen Enforcers patrolling the streets of Central City and on guard outside the headquarters of the BPO. But in the claustrophobic confines of the alley where he stood, the two Enforcers seemed to fill the space completely with their threatening presence.

  Both Enforcers took up positions on either side, covering Krell, their heads constantly scanning the roof-line and background beyond for any threats. With the strength of at least three adult men, going up against a single Enforcer would be futile, but taking on two of them would be suicide. Behind the suit and all the technology, they were still men though. Flesh and blood like Kobe, but their physiology had been enhanced and their armored suits gave them almost superhuman strength.

  Kobe’s PDA chimed again and he glanced at the screen. Another notification had landed on his device; another drone was inbound to their location. It would be the larger autopsy drone. Looking up again, Kobe regarded the Enforcers. Despite them standing a distance behind Magnus Krell, they still looked menacing. Kobe had never been this close to one and he didn’t want them to come any closer. He didn’t know how De Soto would react if they moved nearer, and the situation was already starting to get precarious. Kobe could feel the disdain radiate off De Soto as she stood beside him.

  The Enforcers were nicknamed “snorks” because of the snorkeled gasmasks that covered their faces. Like Krell, they were suited completely in black and their luminous red eyes shone through their darkened face visors. Dangling from their belts was a single weapon, and they only needed one weapon: a shock baton or SB. In Neutral Mode, the baton of solid hardened plastic could deliver bone-breaking blows, instantly fatal. In Shock Mode, it could send over fifty thousand volts of spine-crushing electricity into its intended victim, stunning them or killing them instantly, depending on the shock setting that was selected.

  “Officer De Soto, how nice to see you again,” Krell rasped, his thin lips quivering with sarcasm.

  “Just keep your henchmen away from me,” De Soto warned, pointing at the Enforcers who stood guard behind Krell. “They tend to beat innocent people to death,” she continued.

  Krell smiled but it looked more like a snarl, revealing a row of pointy teeth. “Ah, yes, I remember what happened last time, Officer De Soto. Just a simple misunderstanding, I can assure you. As I recall, you seemed to be having trouble with one of your suspects, and an Enforcer simply came to your assistance.” Krell’s beady eyes seemed to regard De Soto like a predator would regard its prey, penetrating her clothing, imagining her supple flesh underneath as he licked his thin lips with his darting tongue.

  “There was no misunderstanding,” De Soto quipped as she took a step forward towards Krell. Instantly, the two Enforcers swiveled their heads at De Soto and motioned forward, unclipping their shock batons. A distinctive electric hum vibrated through the air as the bulbous head on each baton glowed a brilliant, pure white, illuminating the alley walls in a wash of electric energy.

  “Shit,” Kobe muttered in disbelief. Years of hard training at the Academy, and now he was going to die on his first year rotation with his partner in some filthy alleyway deep inside Precinct 13. With his eyes still locked on the advancing Enforcers, Kobe’s reflexes and training kicked in without even thinking. His right elbow kicked back as his hand found the grip of his sidearm. It was a split-second arc of movement that he had practiced a million times on the firing range.

  He held his draw though, waiting.

  Without turning around, Krell held up a hand and signaled to his two Enforcers to hold fast. They froze midstride, their glowing shock batons held menacingly in their hands.

  With his hand still on his weapon, still holstered, Kobe shifted slightly forward, leaning in low, ready to draw his weapon, covering his partner De Soto. Despite knowing they could both be dead in a matter of seconds, he didn’t care. He would protect his partner at all costs. That’s what he was trained to do and that’s what he would do anyway.

  The situation was quickly escalating out of control despite both sides being on the same side. But then, maybe no one was really on the side of the BPO. They were a law unto themselves.

  “There is no need for hostilities, Officer De Soto. Surely we can both work together on this case,” Krell replied. His eyes fell on Kobe, who was postured in a defensive stance, Kobe’s attention switching from Krell in the foreground to the Enforcers in the background. “Officer Kobe, I believe.” Krell regarded him intensely with his dark beady eyes.

  Krell reached forward, extending his hand. “I’ve been following your progress since you joined the Academy. You have impressed me as a clever and resourceful cadet.”

  Kobe looked down at the gloved hand offered by Krell. It was an obvious gesture by Krell to defuse the situation. Kobe released his grip on his weapon and took the hand. Contrary to what he expected, Krell’s grip was firm and cool, even through the black gloves he wore.

  “Now tell me about this unfortunate girl that you have found,” Krell said as he swept past Kobe towards the body wrapped in plastic. His voice and poise was that of someone supremely confident in their ability and who assumed authority in all circumstances. It made Kobe feel like he had already relinquished the crime scene to Krell, even though it was not the jurisdiction of the BPO.

  “How did you get here so quickly and why would the BPO be interested in a dead girl found in an alleyway?” De Soto cut in, her emerald eyes still glinting her loathing at Krell as he crouched beside the body.

  Krell smiled back at De Soto. Those sharp canine teeth again. “The data that was transmitted by your drone, of course. As soon as the biometric scan and DNA sample was uploaded by young Officer Kobe here, her file was flagged in our system and the Bureau was automatically notified. It’s standard protocol whenever there is activity on a Class A file held by us.”

  Krell pulled back the plastic, revealing the battered face of the girl. For an instant, Kobe thought he heard Krell whisper something to the body, as though the girl would sit upright and respond.

  “Why would a fourteen-year-old girl have a Class A restriction on her file, and why was she sent to reconditioning six months ago?” De Soto persisted. By now she was starting to get angry and was making no attempt to hide it. This was her crime scene and she wasn’t going to relinquish it to the Bureau.

  Krell stood up and turned to both of them. “That is a matter for the BPO. It doesn’t concern you,” he replied. “What does concern you is finding out who did this to her. That is your primary goal, wouldn’t you say?” Once again, the rye smile. The sharp teeth.

  “It would help if we could get total access to her data file so we can look into her background, past history, and people that she came into contact with,” De Soto said. The sarcasm obvious in her voice.

  Krell tilted his head at De Soto. “I will consider your request, Officer De Soto,” he replied dismissively, almost amused by her suggestion. No files held by the BPO servers were ever shown to any
one except BPO staff. De Soto knew this and she knew Krell’s response was a hollow one.

  “But until then, I expect you both to keep me informed of any progress you make,” he said. “Until then, I wish you well.” Krell gave a curt nod and headed back to where the Enforcers stood in the glowing shell of light that radiated from the shock batons they still held menacingly.

  The air seemed to be drawn back down the alleyway as Krell and his entourage departed. De Soto and Kobe stared after them until, in the distance, the curtain of darkness parted and the group melted back into the blackness.

  Kobe let out a sigh of relief and peeled off his gloves.

  “Prick,” De Soto muttered, still fuming.

  Another notification landed on both their PDAs. The Law Enforcement Drone had finished its digital mapping and was returning to base. Soon after, the autopsy drone arrived and swooped down into the alley. It briefly hovered over the body before performing a head-to-toe sweep with its array of sensors and biometric scanners. Kobe watched as thin horizontal pane of green light sliced down from the belly of the drone, dissecting the contours of the body through the plastic. It slowly made one pass, taking a full-body schematic, capturing the exact biological and physiological facsimile of the corpse. This would then be used later to recreate a perfect five-dimensional duplication of the corpse that could be studied and analyzed by medical technicians back at the labs.

  The cold drizzle of rain chilled Kobe as he and De Soto watched the drone finish its autopsy. It passed over the body again, coating it with a fine mist. A few seconds later, nothing remained of the girl and the scene was completely decontaminated. Grace Maleny was no more. She had completely vanished, erased from living memory only to live in the memory of a server hard drive buried deep underground in a digital grave shared by the memories of the dead and forgotten.