by James Somers
Trenton smiled, then he kicked the driver’s door in so hard it sent the man, and his shotgun, into the passenger seat. Trenton grabbed the closest thug with a machine gun, whipping the man around in front of him for a shield as the others fired. Bullets tore into his hostage, but Trenton held him up and used the man’s submachine gun to shoot the others.
When the last one fell, he dropped his spent human shield and walked back over to the drug dealer in the black BMW. The man tried to roll his window up, but Trenton brought his forearm down on the roof so hard it caved in, shattering the window.
The man screamed. “Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me!”
The roof of his car sat just above his head, as though an elephant had sat on it. Trenton yanked the rear door off the hinges and pulled the drug dealer out, holding him off the ground. “As I said before, I’m looking for your boss—Ming—I want a meeting with him, now.”
The young man nodded his head vigorously. “Yeah, no problem, man.”
He took a cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. Trenton set his feet down on the ground. The drug dealer hit the speed dial, while Trenton smiled fiendishly at him.
•••
Dusk had come by the time Trenton pulled one of the drug dealer’s damaged BMWs up to a tall building—the place where his passenger had instructed him to drive. They had taken one of the other cars from the parking lot. It had several bullet holes, but still ran nicely.
The glass and steel skyscraper looked entirely out of place in this low, crime filled neighborhood in Donalee. Trenton drove the car right up to the revolving door and slammed on the brakes. He got out of the car, then pulled the young drug dealer out on his side, as well. “Lead the way,” Trenton ordered.
He kept a tight grip on the young man’s arm and approached the door. Trenton stopped short of the revolving door trying to figure out how to get both of them through without letting the man go. The little weasel would run for sure, as soon as he got an opportunity.
On cue he said, “Hey, man, let me go in first. I promise I won’t run.”
Trenton gave him an appreciative look, then picked him up bodily and heaved the man through the glass window to the right of the door. Trenton then pushed his way gingerly through the revolving door. He picked the drug dealer back up off the floor on the other side.
The trip through the window had cut him up. Though covered in broken glass, he was still conscious. Inside, Trenton saw several men with machine guns covering him and his prisoner. “I’m here to see Ming!” he shouted.
The men looked at each other, the banged up drug dealer, and the glass on the floor. Then one of them produced a television remote, aiming it at a large flat panel monitor on the back wall of the vestibule.
A mid-forties oriental man with medium length, raven hair appeared on the screen. His fingertips sat steepled in front of his face, as he looked out toward the vestibule. “Dr. Hallowed, I understand you have gone to considerable effort in order to see me today,” Ming said. “Why?”
“I have a proposal to make.”
“You’re a wanted man, Dr. Hallowed.”
“Wanted, but still running free, Ming.”
Ming smiled. “I’m afraid you don’t have anything to offer—at least nothing I don’t already have.”
“How about immortality?”
Ming’s smiled faded. “You can give me immortality, Dr. Hallowed?” he asked, looking skeptical.
“For starters, but I want something, as well.”
Ming rubbed his chin. “I see. Of course, if you wish to negotiate, then you’ll have to come up to my penthouse. If you make it, then I’ll be convinced you actually have immortality to bargain with.”
The screen went black. Immediately, Ming’s armed guards raised their weapons and opened fire, without regard for the hostage. Trenton bolted away, leaving the drug dealer to become human Swiss cheese. Trenton pulled a pistol he had been carrying with him since the mall incident, and dropped the first guard as he flanked them.
Trenton dropped, rolled, and came up firing. He took as many hits as he gave. But only he could afford to. With the guards down, Trenton got up, then confiscated their weapons and ammo clips. Apparently, he was going to have to prove himself to Ming in order to gain his help—and unfortunately he did need his help.
He slung three submachine guns over his shoulder by the straps and carried another. His trench coat pockets stuffed with ammunition, Trenton decided on the stairs, rather than the elevator—which was probably expected—in order to make his way toward the penthouse and Ming.
20 THE TOWER
Jonathan had to fight back the tears, when he finally saw Joseph in the Intensive Care Unit. He was still unconscious—recovering from his recent surgery. A ventilator fed the bodyguard oxygen, while chest tubes and a drain system carried fluid away from his thoracic cavity. A half filled Foley catheter bag hung from the side rail of his hospital bed.
Jonathan sat down in a chair next to him and grabbed his once strong hand only to find it limp. “I never expected to see him this way.”
Michael stood at the end of the bed, surveying the cluster of monitors measuring Joseph’s vital signs. “He’s still a tough old guy, Jonathan. He’ll pull through this.”
“It makes me wish he had this power and not me. Then his wounds would just heal themselves.” Jonathan stopped, closed his eyes. “No, I don’t know what I’m saying…this mutagen is just a death sentence.”
“You don’t know that for sure. There may still be some way of counteracting the effects,” Michael said.
“What I don’t know is why the Lord allowed this to happen. If I was meant to die, then I should have just died. Then Joseph and Jay wouldn’t be going through all of this.”
“Where’s your faith, Jonathan?” Michael asked.
“What?”
“Don’t you believers always talk about having faith? Well, what about now…maybe there’s a very good reason why you’re still around. Maybe you’re the one who has to stop that psychopath running around out there. I’m beginning to wonder if we mere mortals can do anything to stop him.”
Jonathan sat up. “He’s no god, Mike—just a fallen man with too much power for his own good. I might not be able to see the reason for all of this, but you’re absolutely right. I have to believe the Lord has a reason. Thanks for reminding me.”
“No problem, I guess,” Michael said.
“No, I mean it. That’s the kind of wisdom Joseph always had for me. I just hope it’s not the last.”
“He’s a fighter, from what I’ve seen—a tough old bird. He’ll be fine with a little time,” Michael said.
“In the meantime, when can I see Jay?”
Michael looked at his watch. “As soon as Dr. Vasquez clears you, then we’ll head over to Precinct #7, in Branton. It’s the largest, with the most fortification. He couldn’t be in a safer place in the whole city.”
•••
Trenton examined the elevator level indicator before taking to the stairwell. The penthouse was on the twentieth floor. The first thing he noticed, as he started up to the second floor landing, was a camera mount. He’s going to be watching me the whole time.
Trenton gritted his teeth in anger, then ran back down the steps to the first floor landing. Another set of steps continued down from there to the basement. That will do nicely.
He ran down the steps and crashed through the basement level door. There was a parking garage located here and a few men guarding it. They spotted Trenton and opened fire. Trenton ran along the concrete wall, returning fire with one of the submachine guns. Sparks leaped away from the wall as a hail of bullets trailed after him. He managed to get behind one of the concrete support pylons, using it for cover.
Ming’s men closed on his position. Their assault pocked the concrete pylon, sending chunks of debris in every direction. Trenton popped out, fired, then ducked back again. Two guards went down. He repeated the maneuver until he had killed the ot
her men, then began searching for the thing he had come to this level to find.
Trenton found a power station on the other side of the parking garage, behind a concrete barrier. “Come to papa!” He opened up with his machine gun, blasting away the side panels, shredding the controls, and severing vital connections. The fluorescent lighting in the parking garage flickered, then went black. Within seconds, low level emergency lighting came on.
“Ming has a generator, but that won’t power anything except the bare essential lighting—not the security cameras,” Trenton said to himself. Trenton turned back and ran for the stairs again. Despite the darkness, his enhanced eyes could still see well enough. Now he clearly had the advantage. I’m coming, Ming!
•••
Jonathan noticed bits of old blood, not cleansed at the hospital, passing away with the water down the drain. A hot shower was just what he needed, after his fight with Trenton. When Jonathan stepped out in front of his bathroom mirror, he saw the bullet wounds from his near death event almost completely healed. Even the scars were fading into normal skin. Amazing stuff you’ve come up with, Trenton, he thought.
Jonathan bowed his head. “Father, please help Joseph to get better and help me to stop Trenton. Whatever he’s planning is not going to be good. He’s hurt a lot of people, Lord. Please stop him. Amen.”
He finished toweling off and put his clothes on.
When Jonathan came out of the bathroom, Detective Stamos was waiting in the living room. “Thanks for stopping by the house to let me get a shower and change before we go to the police station.”
“No problem,” Michael said.
“Any word on Trenton’s location yet?”
“None. And that worries me. He’ll definitely resurface, and every time he does people die. Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you out front,” Jonathan said. “I’m going to follow you, if you don’t mind.”
Michael gave him a curious look, then said, “Fine by me.”
•••
Michael waited in his unmarked police car. The cool night air felt good so he left his window down. He heard the faint whine of an engine. It grew much louder as a deep red, sport bike emerged at the top of the driveway, on the right side of the house. Jonathan pulled up to Michael’s driver side window and raised the mirrored visor on his full-face helmet. “You like?”
“Very nice,” Michael said. “How about getting something to eat before we head over to the precinct?”
“Sounds good,” Jonathan said. “That’s one thing about the mutagen—all of this strength comes at a price—I always feel like I’m starving.”
Michael turned the ignition key and his hemi-powered Dodge Charger growled to life. “Follow me, if you can keep up,” he taunted.
Jonathan smiled. “I’ll try.”
•••
Trenton had only encountered five guards in the stairwell on his way to the penthouse. He had managed to take them down without gunplay, in order to avoid alerting Ming’s men to his route. The building remained without power and relatively dark.
Trenton opened the stairwell door on the penthouse level and seized a guard standing at the door smoking a cigarette. He snapped the man’s neck before he could make a sound. Trenton crept into the corridor. Light shone through some of the windows down the hallway, illuminating other men who were guarding Ming’s apartment.
Rather than alert these men to his presence by a head-on assault, Trenton used the fire extinguisher case mounted on the wall to reach the ceiling. He pushed several ceiling tiles out of his way and grabbed hold of heavy pipes, pulling himself inside the space.
Trenton crawled to the point where the wall of the apartment intersected and then over into that space. He passed a vent and looked into the room where some men were talking. One of the voices sounded like Ming. He adjusted his angle and clearly saw the man sitting in a large, leather chair at the end of a long, oval shaped table. At least fifteen men stood around the room armed with submachine guns.
Trenton smiled and began a quiet hand-over-hand trek toward the leather chair and Ming sitting in it. He listened to the guards trying to contact others over wireless headsets in a vain attempt to locate him. He had crawled upside down along the pipe to Ming’s approximate position, then Trenton pushed away hard from the pipe with enough force to explode downward through the cardboard, ceiling tiles.
He landed near Ming, whipped out a large knife, and placed it on the man’s throat, holding him securely in the chair. Trenton grinned. “Hello, Ming!”
Gun mounted flashlights whirled to his position, fixing on his face, but no one fired. “Hello, boys,” Trenton said. “I’ve come to negotiate with your boss.”
Laughter came from the jumble of flashlights—the same voice—Ming. “Lights on,” he said.
The room illuminated instantly, at his command. “Certainly, I would be glad to discuss the matter with you, Dr. Hallowed. But first, you should release Cho.”
Trenton gritted his teeth. Ming stood among his guards with a machine gun slung over his shoulder. He smiled and waited. Trenton moved the blade away, and allowed Ming’s decoy to stand. As Cho moved out of the way, Trenton raised one of his own machine guns, pointing it at Ming and his men. “Now the odds are a little more even.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow you, Dr. Hallowed,” Ming said.
“You can shoot me, but I’ll kill all of you before I die.”
“A wild boast,” Ming said.
“An accurate one,” Trenton replied.
Ming motioned for his men to lower their weapons, then he took a seat at the opposite end of the oval table, motioning for Trenton to do the same. “Please sit down, Dr. Hallowed. I understand you have immortality to bargain with.”
Trenton lowered his weapon last and then sat down in the leather chair opposite Ming. “How about a drink first? I’m sure you can understand I’m a little parched from my trip.”
Ming gave Trenton a wan smile, then snapped his fingers. One of the men flanking him walked over to a wet bar in the corner.
“How about something with lots of sugar?” Trenton asked. “I need my energy.”
The man stopped short of the liquor and pulled a cold two liter of soda from the refrigerator. He sat a glass on the bar to fill it.
“I’ll just take the bottle,” Trenton said.
The guard left the glass and brought the bottle. He sat it on the table next to Trenton, then walked back to Ming’s side. “I applaud your ascent through my tower—very nicely done,” Ming said. “How is it that you’ve come by these abilities of yours? I’ve been following your story in the news—most intriguing.”
“I’ve developed a powerful genetic mutagen which boosts strength, reflexes, healing, and speed, through a regenerative process beginning at the cellular level,” Trenton said. “I’ve already sustained fatal wounds, several times over, but I’m still kicking.” He paused for effect. “I’m willing to share this with you, and your men, in exchange for your help retrieving my formulas at the Genetic Corp building.”
“That building is heavily guarded by the police right now,” Ming said.
“I realize that. The fact of the matter is I have to have someone to decode the vault—a boy who encrypted my files and shut me out just before I could retrieve my spare cylinders of mutagen gas.”
“A boy?”
Trenton blinked very slowly. “Yes, a very crafty little worm. The police have him somewhere.”
“That isn’t a problem,” Ming said. “I have plenty of informants in the police department.”
“He’s probably been taken in by a detective. Michael Stamos is his name.”
Ming grinned. “Ah, Detective Stamos, I know him very well. He’s been a thorn in my side for several years now. Were you the one who killed his partner?”
Trenton smiled. “Believe me, it was my pleasure. Anyway, once we find the boy, we’ll have to break into and out of the station where they’re keeping him.
Can you organize something like that?”
Ming smiled, bowing his head slightly. “Leave it to me.”
21 ASSAULT
Trenton observed the people in the back of the truck with him. Ming had outfitted him with fifty of his people—mostly men—but all hard-as-nails criminals. The three armored cars they rode in lumbered along the highway into Branton.
“What time is it?” Trenton asked.
One of the men looked at his wristwatch. “Ten past midnight—right on schedule.”
Trenton and the others checked their weapons. They carried submachine guns, concussion grenades, and tear-gas bombs—all from Ming’s private stock. Everyone wore black with black face paint, and Kevlar vests, including Trenton. He didn’t want to take on damage unnecessarily. Every bout with body damage drained him and he felt, even now, he could use a full day’s sleep.
“When we find the boy, he comes back to this truck, right?” Trenton said.
Nods all around.
“If you do well, all of you will be immortal after tonight,” Trenton promised.
Some of them grinned. Others appeared skeptical.
The sliding window to the cabin unlatched and opened. A man in the passenger’s seat of the truck peered through. “Sixty seconds, everybody.”
“Here we go,” Trenton said, “and be sure you don’t harm the boy.”