The Duals (An Urban Fantasy Thriller)

by Karen Hayes

  Shooting at my own family. At least I thought that's what Adam and his team have become to me. Almost.

  The General has promised to set us both free, provided we participate in this op. Before, the Agency used to kill all carriers unlucky enough to get caught. Now they simply strip them of their powers. Not everyone survives the serum shot: apparently, it's worse than trying to quit heroin by doing cold turkey.

  One of the pictures on the memory stick was of a young carrier guy. The injection had gone very badly wrong. It's either this or brain death. Either way, it promises nothing good.

  Two steps left.

  I don't want to become a brain-dead vegetable fed through a tube! I'll do everything I need to do to get Chris and myself out of this.

  One step.

  I glimpse my reflection in the glass pane. A light-colored trench coat, dark sunglasses on a pale face. The doors open. I step in.

  I stride toward the detector gate and walk forcefully through. All hell breaks loose: bells ringing, sirens wailing.

  A guard wearing Hermetis uniform hurries toward me. He's young and dark-skinned, definitely not a dual. He must be one of Adam's personal security staff, I've seen them here before.

  Just the person I need.

  "Excuse me, ma'am," he points at the checkup table next to the gate.

  "Shut up and let me through," I command.

  The air around me thickens. I can taste metal in my mouth.

  The guard's eyes glaze over. He about-faces and walks toward the turnstile, then swipes his own card through the reader.

  The turnstile's little gate swings open. I walk through.

  I've already noticed that complex people are the hardest to control. With them, you need to use the shortest commands possible. This guy is quite simple, however. I can make him believe anything I want. Like, that I'm his wife of five years who relieves him of his money every payday.

  Those two in front are a piece of cake, too.

  "Follow me," I tell the guard, then head for the other two who are already casting suspicious glances at us. One of them raises his radio to his lips, about to report an intruder. Sensing this, I position myself in front of them and focus on their minds.

  "Put your radios down. Forget you've ever seen me. Now go back to your posts."

  Without saying a word, they swing round and return to their positions by the turnstiles.

  The first guard takes me past the elevators. I keep a watchful eye around me: walking into my ex co-workers is the last thing I need.

  Luckily, we walk past the elevators just before its doors open, letting out a small crowd of people. The guard takes me to the double door in a far corner of the hall. It's marked Staff.

  He swipes his card through a reader, then opens the door.

  "Go in," I say.

  He steps in first. I follow. We enter a narrow corridor lined with white plastic and walk past several office doors. A transformer buzzes overhead. I can hear the voices of staff walking further up.

  A large shadow looms over me. I turn round and suppress a smile. Chris looks so funny in an electrician's baggy overall and a cap with a large square beak. The many pockets of his work pants are groaning with tools.

  Chris doesn't smile back. In fact, he's deadly serious. I can feel his blood boil with adrenaline. His, or mine? Lately, I've been finding it hard to tell our emotions apart. Not that it's important anymore.

  We keep walking: past a cleaning lady with her trolley, past some servers from the Italian restaurant next door. A tall burly waitress sets a trayful of dirty dishes onto a table behind the door and joins us, removing her gray apron and a matching cap as she walks. That's Diana. Her face is frozen; she's tense, ready to fight.

  As we walk past the kitchen, we are joined by the chef and one of the cooks. The chef is stocky and heavily built with an egg-shaped bald head. I only know his nickname: Aussie, because of his Australian accent. The cook is a short sinewy Chinese called Chen.

  A fit, bronzed office worker appears at the far end of the corridor and walks quickly toward us. He's carrying a large bag. I can't believe it's Ramiro: it's the first time I see him without his circle beard. His clean-shaven chin is pale compared to his dark cheeks.

  There're seven of us now, if you count the puppet-like guard.

  Ramiro casts a quick look around and opens his bag. He hands two guns to Diana and sticks yet another one in his belt. Then he produces a shoulder strap and hangs the bag over his shoulder like a backpack. The bag is heavy: there's something bulky and angular inside.

  I peel off the wig and lob it into a corner. My head itches like hell now.

  Chris unzips his own bag and produces a gun for himself. Then he reaches in for a short-barrel SMG and hands it to Aussie and Chen.

  He's taut as a live wire. Like one of those things with may appear harmless but you wouldn't want to trip it.

  We haven't spoken ever since we left the Agency. I can feel his emotions raging under the surface; his disturbed emotional wound is raw and smarting.

  Last night at the Agency he told me all about himself. So awful. Losing his Mom at that age, killed in front of his own eyes... terrible.

  I cover his hand with mine. He looks at me but doesn't remove it: my touch seems to have calmed him down somewhat. I can sense he's grateful for my support.

  We turn a corner and stop in front of a double door sporting the Hermetis' logo. The guard unlocks it and we step in.

  We face a wide forking corridor. Its walls are hung with TV screens showing fragments of McAllister's speeches and snippets of some ads which I recognize: they advertise the products made by the companies subsidized by Adam.

  Two well-dressed gray-haired men are sitting on couches at the end of the right-hand corridor. They don't see us yet.

  "To the left," Diana mouths.

  We enter the empty left-hand corridor.

  Now we're all armed. Aussie, Ramiro and Chris are carrying heavy bags behind their backs. We hurry down the corridor past some utility rooms, then run down some stairs until we reach Level -2. Heavy thumping sounds reach us from the gym where a training session is in full swing.

  Finally, we reach the door of the "utility room" with the elevator inside. I punch in the code which I remember by heart. How could I ever forget!

  Ramiro pushes the door open with his gun, then checks if the room is empty.

  It is. The steel doors of the secret elevator glisten in the dark. We enter.

  The elevator starts off down. I watch the numbers change on the panel, their lights reflecting off Aussie's shiny bald patch.

  "Does everyone remember what they're doing?" Diana asks behind me. I can sense her breathing on the nape of my neck.

  The others nod while I struggle to remember everything Buffalo told us.

  The Hermetis building used to belong to another company. That's how the Agency got hold of the underground floor plans: by searching through the company's archives. They revealed the existence of a fire escape leading toward the emergency exit, the one Greene used to take me out. Now we're counting on it as our escape route. A car and a cover group are waiting outside, ready to whisk us away.

  "How many security staff downstairs?" Diana asks the guard.

  He stares blankly at her.

  "Speak up," I command.

  "Three," the guard replies.

  "Where are they?"

  The elevator jerks to a halt. The doors slide open. The guard steps out into the cold lamplight.

  "One in the lab," the guard says. "One more in the hospital at the other end of-"

  A gunshot tears half his face off. Blood floods his remaining eye. His body thumps to the floor.

  I scream. Chris pulls me back inside the elevator. Ramiro slides past us toward the door and hurls a smoke grenade. It explodes with a pop, filling the room with acrid white smoke.

  Ramiro pulls a gas mask from under his jacket and puts it on. A lens blinks a green light over the dull, dark hole of the mask's rig
ht eyepiece.

  Ramiro gestures to Chen. The two disappear into the thick smoke. Diana and Aussie stand in front of us, weapons at the ready.

  Three gunshots clap one after the other, followed by a burst of automatic fire.

  Aussie presses a finger to his earpiece. "Roger that," he says, motioning us out of the elevator.

  We put on our masks and venture out.

  I step over the guard's body. I feel sick. He was just a normal guy... true, I didn't kill him but still his blood is on my hands. I made him come here with us. It's my fault.

  I can't see anything in the swirling smoke. We hurry on blindly until someone grabs my arm and pulls me aside.

  I cuss and try to squirm out of their grip. Pointless: the person is strong as an ox. I'm just about to tell them to let me go when the smoke thins out somewhat, allowing me to see my capturer. It's Ramiro.

  I stop; he lets go of me. Two Hermetis guards are lying at our feet. Further on, some people in lab coats are standing behind a cracked observation window with their hands in the air, staring at Aussie's and Chen's trained guns. The coffin-like capsule by the back wall - a sarcophagus, isn't it? - is now empty. The green smoke that used to fill it is now gone, and so is the masked man.

  Now I fully recognize the corridor. A man is lying on the floor further up where the corridor bends.

  "Everybody on the floor!" Aussie shouts to the lab workers.

  They keep standing, staring at him sheep-like. Diana walks into the lab and shoots her gun at the ceiling. I startle. White plastic crumbles to the floor. One of the lamps explodes.

  "On the floor!" she barks.

  Not waiting for her to repeat the order, the staff drop to the floor as one. Aussie keeps his gun trained on them while Chen plugs a memory stick into a laptop next to the sarcophagus ad starts to download something.

  Ramiro turns to me. "Where's the albino?"

  "Further on."

  "Show us, quick."

  I hurry toward the hospital room with Chris at my heels. Still, the albino's bed is empty. There's no one in the room.

  "He was here," I say.

  "Are you sure?" Ramiro opens the door and checks the room.

  I nod. He swings round and shouts to Diana behind us, "He's not here! Can he be somewhere nearby?"

  She steps toward the lab and twists her finger around her head, gesturing to the agents to wrap it up.

  "Did they expect us?" I softly ask Ramiro. "Is that why they took him away?"

  Ramiro pauses, then nods. His face darkens, his cheekbones taut. He motions Chen to approach. "I want you to check this place out."

  Chen drops to one knee and opens his bag. He pulls out a folded device which opens up like a transformer. A quadcopter drone. At the press of a button, its rotors roar to life, sending the machine soaring into the air around the bend.

  Chen watches its progress on a small screen. "Seems okay," he says. "No one there. There're two more bends further up. We can advance."

  "Aussie, stay where you are," Diana commands. "Hold this part of the corridor."

  Aussie produces an APG from under his jacket and positions himself in the doorway so that he can control both the lab and the elevator.

  Chris, myself, Diana, Ramiro and Chen carry on past Sam's room. Chen is holding the drone's control panel.

  This room is empty too. Ditto for the lab where Adam had his ghastly experiment.

  The corridor takes a sharp turn. We find ourselves in a short passage about thirty feet long followed by another bend, with a large armored door at its center.

  "I think I know where they are," Chen says. "The heat detector has found something."

  He shows the screen to Ramiro who waves to Diana. All these people seem to have a really good rapport. They're almost like duals in this respect. I wonder if they realize it?

  Ramiro studies the lock on the armored door. Chen taps something into the control panel, sending the drone scudding around the next bend.

  I take a peek over his shoulder. The screen shows the corridor, followed by a small archway which leads to another room.

  The picture freezes. Chen keeps tapping the keys, with zero effect. A glitch?

  "It doesn't respond," he says.

  Suddenly the drone unfreezes. The picture it's sending is unstable. The sounds of its rotors are now approaching from around the bend, accompanied by a hiss and a crackling noise. It sounds as if something's burning over there.

  Chris noisily sniffs in the air. So do I. The air seems to smell of burnt plastic. The uncontrollable drone is heading directly for us!

  It shoots out from around the bend and falls upon us. We scatter; someone opens fire. Chen disables the controls but the wretched machine just won't stop! It nose-dives on Chris, trying to chop off his head with its rotors, then hits a wall, careens through the air and hits the opposite wall. It seems to have a life all of its own.

  There's only one person capable of doing that. I can sense the fine thread of his controlling power. I run after the drone, following it around the bend. I can feel Chris gasping as he tries to keep up with me.

  Diana catches up with us, gun at the ready. Behind her, Ramiro and Chen rush around the passage trying to duck the crazy drone's attacks.

  Three gunshots ring out one after the other, silencing the rotors.

  "I can open the lock," Ramiro announces.

  "Fred!" I shout. "Fred, can you hear me? Go away!"

  "Oh, do shut up," Diana tells me calmly.

  She and Chris remain next to me. Behind us, Chen and Ramiro stoop over the lock of what appears to be an armored cell. The drone lies next to the wall, peppered with bullets.

  "Sarah, what are you doing?" Fred's voice comes from a small water cooler room around the bend.

  Diana points the gun at the voice.

  "How dare you do that?" Fred's voice reproaches me. "How could you bring them here? We trusted you!"

  He shouldn't have been there. I don't want him to get hurt.

  "Fred, please go!" I shout. "You don't know anything! Go away, now!"

  A hand peeks from behind the water cooler, giving me the finger.

  With one well-aimed shot, Diana blasts right through it. Blood splatters everywhere. Fred screams. He doubles up behind the water cooler, exposing his carrot top a bit too much.

  "No!" I grab at Diana's gun but she'd already fired.

  The gun barrel jerks under my fingers. Mechanically I let go of it as if it were a venomous snake.

  Fred slowly drops to the floor next to the water cooler. A pool of blood starts to form around his head.

  I scream at Diana. Two strong hands grab me from behind, immobilizing me.

  "Not now," Chris' voice says over my ear. "Can you feel it? Ramiro, Chen, quick!"

  Yes. Yes, I can feel it. He's right. Something's about to happen.

  A loud noise comes from behind us. It sounds like a grenade exploding. Someone screams. I think it's Aussie; or it could have been one of the lab workers.

  The roaring of fire drowns out the scream, growing rapidly.

  "That's Greene!" I shout.

  Finally, Chen and Ramiro finish picking the lock. They swing the door open. We barge in.

  Unconscious bodies lie on the beds which line the room. That's all I have time to see. Clouds of crimson smoke billow in, filling the passage. Ramiro hurries to slam the door shut. Now we're in pitch darkness.

  "That bastard and his tricks!" Diana barks. "He distracted us!"

  "His name was Fred," I wheeze. "He's not a bastard."

  No one seems to care. Even Chris.

  Gradually my eyes adjust to the weak glow of the single dull lamp on the ceiling. There're about a dozen people in the room. One - a black guy in jeans and a tank top - is rocking on his bed with his head hanging.

  And in the far corner... it's Emma. She struggles to scramble to her feet, leaning her left arm against the wall and pressing her right one to her stomach.

  Her gaze is fearful.


  She's damn right there. I would kill her if I could. I wish I could grab her by that disheveled bun of hers and slam her face first into the wall.

  Can you read my thoughts now, Emma babe? Can you feel what I'd love to do to you?

  A tall woman climbs out of a bed next to me, wincing with pain. She's wearing a track suit, her dark hair in a ponytail. She has burn marks on her forehead and clothes.

  The moment she sees Diana her face clears, "Di? No way! Don't tell me they got you too!"

  Diana smiles. It's the first time I actually see her smile.

  "Belle!" Diana strides toward the woman and brushes her hair from her forehead, studying the wound. "They've done a nice job on you, haven't they?"

  The woman shrugs. "That's okay. I can walk, that's the main thing," she points at the black guy in the tank top. "Tyron has had it real bad."

  I take a closer look at the guy. The bandages on his hands and arms are stained with caked blood.

  "What did they do to him?" Diana asks.

  "You tell me. They injected him with all sorts. Used him as a guinea pig, basically."

  "Can he walk?"

  "Sure. Tyron, can you hear me? You think you can walk?"

  The guy doesn't reply. I'm not sure he can even hear us. He might not even know where he is.

  "How about the others?" Ramiro asks.

  Belle shakes her head, frowning.

  As they speak, I walk past the beds, studying the victims. They look terrible: either drugged or unconscious. Their eyes are half-closed showing only the whites. One's hands are shaking while another one's leg is trembling badly.

  How terrible.

  "Do you mean we can only get two of you out?" Chris asks.

  By the time I rejoin them, the roaring of flames outside has died down. Apparently, Greene has run out of steam. Ramiro, Diana and Chen raise their weapons, listening intently.

  There're no sounds of footsteps outside. No one is trying to break into the room. On Ramiro's sign, Chen uses his gun barrel to prize the door open while Ramiro is pointing his gun at the corridor outside.

  "Watch out," Diana mouths.

  Chen nods. He steps closer to the door while continuing to ease it open.

  We hear weak crackling noises, as if something is cooling down. Apart from that, there're no other sounds. Warm air enters the room.