Desert Assassin

by Don Drewniak

  “What did you tell him?” asked Morgan.

  “That I would pass his requests on to higher authorities. He has been told nothing about the outside world, either by me or the scientists.”

  “Good.”

  “One more thing, since the first interrogation, I’ve been letting him have two small glasses of scotch after dinner.”

  “No problem.”

  Williams, Morgan and Baldarelli then walked into the threadbare interrogation room serving as Assassin Morales’ cell. In it were a twin-size mattress resting on a wooden frame, a small table with a chair and a recently installed sink and toilet. As soon as the three entered the room, Morales stared at Williams and then at Morgan. There was no question that he recognized both of them.

  Looking directly at Williams, speaking in English and without hesitating between words, Assassin, as Williams thought of him, said, “I have been wondering when I would have the opportunity to speak with you.”

  Notwithstanding the heads up from Baldarelli, Assassin’s command of English startled both of them..

  “We meet again,” replied Williams.

  “You could have ended me many times during our first encounters. You did not. Thank you.”

  Williams immediately picked up on the use of ‘ended’ instead of ‘killed’ by this Assassin. Its human brain came from Morales, an illegal alien, while the one Williams first encountered came from Fred, the unfortunate rancher. Neither of the two humans would have used ended instead of killed, therefore the choice must have had some significance to Assassin and possibly to his species. In addition, Assassin’s question confirmed what Williams had learned from Baldarelli’s initial scotch enhanced interrogation – this Assassin thought of himself as the original and, perhaps, he was the original.

  “You are welcome, but it would seem that was a mistake on my part.”

  “Why do you consider allowing me to live to be a mistake?”

  Williams paused to make certain that he didn’t reveal anything beyond what this Assassin had experienced. “You attacked and destroyed one human being and had you not been captured, I suspect you would have continued to do so to others.”

  “Morales was in your country illegally and was a criminal. I believe you should consider what I did to him to be a favor.”

  Williams took note of Assassin referring to Morales in the past tense. “You are in our country illegally and you committed a criminal act.”

  “I believe your laws apply only to human beings.”

  Both Williams and Morgan fought urges to laugh. There was no question that Baldarelli was correct in his assessment of Assassin’s intelligence.

  “You can be classified as a non-United States citizen enemy combatant,” said Morgan.

  “May I assume you are part of the same organization as Baldarelli?”

  “Yes.”

  “What would that be?”

  “That is classified information.”

  Turning to Williams, Assassin said, “I see by your uniform your name is Williams and you are a major. What is your full name?”

  “I am Major Bill Williams.”

  “Why did you not end me during the early times?”

  Williams repeated what he had said to what he considered to be the original Assassin.

  “Where are my others?”

  “That is classified information,” replied Williams.

  “The two of you have come here for information. Perhaps we can trade.”

  “What do want?”

  “Word of my others. If that is non-negotiable at the moment, then knowledge of your world beyond what I know of it from the memory of Morales and the little I have seen. It seems to be a barbaric world.”

  Williams fought an urge to mention the brutal killing of the couple attacked by the other Morales and how different the words of this Morales seemed from the actions of the other. He also recalled that the original Assassin claimed no knowledge of anything prior to his sensing the presence of Williams after emerging from the meteoroid. This seemed to be an opportunity to see if, along with maturation, this Assassin could recall anything about its genesis, or that of its species. “Do you remember anything of your existence prior to your arrival here on Earth?”

  “Until recently, nothing. However, over the past several days, I have a recurring image of thousands of meteors similar to the one which brought me to your planet. They are lined up in columns and rows which seem to be equal, or close to equal, in numbers of the meteors.”

  “Would you mind if Major Ling joined us?” asked Williams.

  “No.”

  “Major Ling,” said Baldarelli, “Major Williams would like you to join us in the interview room with the Assassin.”

  At the time of the request, Ling was with the ensemble of biologists feeling like a third wheel. He immediately imagined the worse, but could not imagine what that might be.

  Williams was standing outside of the interrogation room with the door to the room closed. “Thank you for coming, Stan. Remember that this Assassin has the memory of the original. Whatever you do, do not mention the existence of any of the other iterations.” He then went on to summarize the conversation with Assassin.

  “What are you looking for from me?”

  Williams noted a terseness in the question. Your expertise in astrophysics. We will have Assassin repeat what he told us and I would like you to take the lead in questioning. Even if he doesn’t have much more to add at this time, he may as he continues to develop intellectually. I would like you to meet with him – make certain Baldarelli is present – at least twice a day until further notice. I may be way off base on this, but if what he said about the large number of meteors is fact, the implications are potentially nightmarish. You are the most qualified to figure out whether the meteor account is true or not.”

  “Before we continue,” said Assassin, “what can you do in return?”

  “I see you are learning the workings of capitalism,” said Morgan.

  “For starters,” interjected Williams, “we will supply you with books, world history, for example. Do you prefer them in English or Spanish?”

  “Both, this will help me with the reading of English. Please add a dictionary and, if possible, a Spanish-English book of translation.”

  “Done. Let Major Ling and Agent Baldarelli know what else you may need or want. Understand, however, that there are limitations. Please repeat for Major Ling your images of the meteors.”

  As soon as Assassin finished, Ling asked, “Do you remember the surface on which they were resting?”

  Assassin paused for a few moments before answering. “No, they seemed suspended in air or perhaps in space. The background color was a faint reddish. Nothing else.”

  “Any sounds?”

  “No.”

  “You mentioned thousands of the meteors. Can you be more specific?”

  “At least ten thousand.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Can you tell us how you captured or whatever it was that you did to Morales to take over his body and brain?” asked Morgan.

  “That is classified information.”

  This brought smiles to Williams, Morgan and Baldarelli. Williams then gave a brief explanation of the context of Assassin’s answer to Ling and followed this up by looking at Assassin and saying, “Thank you very much.” He then exited the room. Morgan, Baldarelli and Ling followed.

  Referring to the abrupt exit, Morgan said, “Let me guess, Bill, you know that he wants much more than the books.”

  “Exactly.”

  Turning to Ling, Williams said, “Stan, Morgan and I will be leaving late this afternoon. I would like you to take charge of the questioning of Assassin on two fronts. One, keep probing to see if he is able to add anything to his meteor or meteoroid story. We need to know if there is any truth to it. Two, try to see what he will accept to give us information as to how the hell he did what he did to Morales. Cyclo is certain it was done by infecting him. We would like to k
now how that infecting was done. Call either Morgan or me if you get anything.” Williams and Morgan left, leaving Ling to wonder if they were setting a trap for him.

  “Jesse, I would like to visit Eagle Assassin by myself.”

  “I understand, Bill. When you are finished, join me. I’ll be in the bar.”

  The bar, officially named “The Last Stop,” was the one place in the underground complex, other than the dining hall, which served liquor. As was to be expected, it was exceedingly popular from its 10:00AM opening until its 1:00AM closing.

  Just before Williams was about to enter the room housing Eagle Assassin, he was intercepted by Stanton. “Major, may I have a few moments of your time?”

  “Of course.”

  “The team is making progress, but it is slow. We have reached some conclusions. First, while the Assassins can replicate seemingly at will, they cannot transform themselves back into any of their previous forms. To transform themselves, they require an external catalyst.”

  “By an external catalyst, you mean prey.”

  “Yes. While we are not absolutely certain of this, we believe that initially while they are operating primarily on instinct, they will attack and incorporate into themselves what they need to survive. As they mature, which as Dr. Henderson realized early on they do at a incredibly rapid rate compared to humans, they become increasingly more selective and switch to infecting their victims.”

  “Can I assume that for now at least, the two forms that they have selected are humans and eagles?”

  “Exactly, Major, humans because our intelligence has allowed us to dominate all other species and eagles which not only provide flight, but also because they are a dominant bird. However, the question becomes will they attempt to add weaponry to these forms?”

  “That’s something that Morgan and I have talked about. When Art, Art Fowler, captured Morales One, Cyclo sounded the alarm about his potentially having weapons above and beyond the virus.”

  “Personally, I think it is only a matter on time.”

  “I hope you are wrong, but I fear you are right.”

  “We are all but totally positive that Morales One and Eagle Assassin One were created by infection rather than by a hostile takeover – sorry, but I couldn’t resist using that term. There is little doubt that Morales Two was a replicate and so were all of the Eagle Assassins following Eagle Assassin One. The rancher incorporated into the original Assassin was obviously by hostile takeover. We now know beyond a doubt that blood from these assassins has infected all of our test animals – cats, dogs, rabbits, guinea pigs, chimpanzees, mice, rats and several species of birds, including an eagle. While the virus spreads at different rates depending on the species, it has taken hold in every test animal.”

  That’s not what I had hoped to hear, but I’m not surprised.

  “This is the good news, such as it is. None of the test animals is exhibiting any signs of increased awareness.”

  “In other words, no passed on intelligence or memory.”

  “Correct. So far, at least, is appears that the extracted blood is missing a catalyst which allows for the transfer of intelligence and memory. We will wait a few days to make certain there is no delayed onset among the ones we have already infected. Also, we plan to place some of the infected animals in adversarial situations both with infected and non infected prey.”

  Williams clasped the back of his neck with both hands, closed his eyes for a few seconds before saying, “Let’s hope they go strictly for the kill.”

  “Precisely. Our next step is to sedate Morales and make a direct transfer of blood to uninfected test animals.”

  “Please keep me informed every step of the way.”

  “Of course.”

  “Let me clarify one point. From what you have said, there is a possibility that any Eagle Assassins which may be left and any humanoids may not be interested in infecting lower life forms.”

  “That is a distinct possibility.”

  “What is the status of our Eagle Assassin?”

  It is severely depressed and has eaten little since it realized that its wing could not be fully repaired.”

  “Thank you. Has the General been made aware of this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Could pass this information on to Morgan? If you have the time, he’s in the bar at the moment.”

  “I’ll go there immediately.”

  Despite being forewarned by Stanton, as soon as Williams walked into the room, he was startled by Eagle Assassin’s weight, or rather his lack of weight. He walked slowly toward the decimated figure and sat down to within three feet of him. Minutes passed with neither one moving until Assassin slowly lifted its left wing and pointed it at his right wing.

  “I’m sorry,” said Williams somberly, hoping that if Assassin didn’t understand the meaning of the words, the tone would convey the meaning.

  Assassin then brought its left wing into a curled position and raised it to its head. Williams stood up and returned the salute. He sensed what was about to happen. Assassin slowly walked to a far corner of the room. Williams stayed until there was virtually no trace of the alien other than the same foul odor he and Morgan experienced in the desert when Assassin’s first replicate dissolved.

  After joining Morgan in The Last Stop, Williams described Eagle Assassin’s demise.

  “Bill, my wife suffered for over eight months before dying. There were times when I came close to putting her out of the pain and suffering she had to endure, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I know that if she had the ability to end her life the way Eagle Assassin did, she would have done it. The god of their world would seem to be a much more humane one than we have.”

  Several minutes passed with neither Williams nor Morgan saying anything. When it appeared that Morgan was ready to continue the conversation, Williams asked, “Did Stanton find you?”

  “Yes. What’s next?”

  “Let’s pay a brief visit to the General and then go bird hunting.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THE RECONSTRUCTED HC TEAM met for an early breakfast prior to the first day of searching for either the lone Morales Assassin, or any number of them. McBride, who had been briefed via phone by Mitchell prior to the breakfast meeting, began the conversation. “If other humans have been infected, they will bear no resemblance to Morales. Excluding blind luck, we are either going to have to get some help from the satellites or the drones or, less likely, spot some odd behavior.”

  “Let me call Sally. I’ll ask her to call me if she sees anything that seems suspicious, especially if scotch is involved,” said Fowler.

  “Sally?” asked Mule.

  “A lady friend of Art who works at the bar in town,” replied Cyclo.

  “Oh.”

  “Andy,” said Fowler, “during our search for Morales One and Morales Two, we visited just about every place between here and Silver City which sells liquor. Why not use your FBI ID and recheck every one of them. Show your credentials and request to be called if any locals buy scotch who don’t normally do so.”

  “Or if anyone buys a large quantity,” added Cyclo.

  “Excellent. I’ll also call Ralston and see if he can focus drone and satellite surveillance on the stores. Meanwhile, Art and Mule, you are on your own. Cyclo and I will hit the stores. We’ll drive to the one farthest south and be ready to go in when it opens this morning.”

  The first two stops yielded no results. Standing behind the counter of their next stop was a short, heavy set, red faced, prematurely bald figure. Looking at him, McBride half seriously wondered if he consumed as much beer as he sold.

  “Any chance the roof on this place is going to cave in before we leave?” asked McBride.

  “My old man owns the place and says he don’t care. Figures he’s made enough over the years.”

  “He owns the building?”

  “Why, you some IRS crook or some overpaid building inspector from the state?”

  �
��Neither,” replied McBride as he flashed his FBI badge.”

  “Whatever it is, the old man did it. Not me.”

  “We don’t care what you or the old man have done or haven’t done. That is we don’t care as long as you answer a question or two.”

  “About what?”

  “Anyone been in lately buying scotch who normally doesn’t, or buying a large amount of it?”

  “Everything we sell is legal. No illegal crap from Mexico.”

  “We don’t care if it is or isn’t. Just answer the question.”

  “Couple days ago, Jim Covington’s wife came in and bought sixteen bottles, just about all our stock. First time I ever seen her come in by herself. Jim’s a regular. Usually comes in by himself and buys beer. Once in a while she comes in with him and buys a cheap bottle of wine.”

  “Did she say anything?”

  “Asked me how much. Told her and she passed me a bunch of ones, fives and tens. Pulled them out of her purse and they stunk like hell.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Smelled like shit. Smelled so bad that after she left I put ’em in the sink in the restroom and soaked ’em in soap water. She smelled like shit, too. Turned on the fan and left the door open after she left.”

  “What happened after she paid you?”

  “I boxed the bottles. She wanted just four in a box. Offered to carry them out to her car. She said no and picked up the first box and walked out. Came back in for the second, then the third and then the last one. She’s a skinny little broad. Couldn’t figure why she didn’t want any help.”

  “Does she have any kids?”

  “Just one, but he’s been long gone. Jim is near sixty and the wife is early fifties maybe.”

  “Have you told this to anyone?”

  “Nope.”

  “Keep it to yourself. We wouldn’t want to have to make a return visit.”

  “Won’t say another word.”

  McBride was about to ask how to find Covington’s house when Cyclo showed him the location on his tablet.

  “Keep the change,” said McBride as he picked out a package of gum and dropped a ten dollar bill on the counter.