by Colin Weldon
“The order to protect civilian casualties is rescinded for the duration of this mission. You are authorised to use whatever means necessary to accomplish your mission. Do you understand?” Wise said.
“The order to protect civilian casualties is rescinded. Affirmative,” Tarsis said, looking back at Wise.
His eyes were decidedly human. While there was a coldness in their gaze that made Wise nervous, he also knew that they would stop at nothing. The perfect weapon.
“Thank you Tarsis. Your country owes you a great debt,” Wise said looking over at Shaw and nodding to him.
Shaw reached behind his head. Tarsis fell instantly back asleep.
“How effective is the kill switch?” Wise asked Shaw.
“We can detonate him anywhere on the planet in a matter of seconds. The charge is placed directly at the base of his synapse and full control is wired through the Jaguar mainframe. One order from you and he’s toast. I really hope it doesn’t come to that sir. This is the biggest breakthrough in cybernetics in history,” Shaw said.
Wise looked at the sleeping Tarsis.
“That’s what we said about Nora Stone,” Wise replied frowning at Shaw.
“I really don’t understand it sir; there was nothing during her training that would indicate this sort of behaviour. I guess you can never really programme a human mind. That can’t happen with Tarsis. He’s mostly machine now,” said Shaw.
“Hmm…” replied Wise. “Well, get him packed up and ready to fly. We’ll activate him on site.”
“Yes sir,” replied Shaw.
Wise made his way to the door. He turned back once more and looked at the sleeping weapon he was about to unleash onto the world.
Jakarta
The black sedan headed east on the Jl. Daan Mogot road towards the centre of Jakarta. Eddie sat in the front seat with his two-team members in the back. The driver was in the middle of trying to contend for road space with what looked like an old Yamaha CT3 that was weaving dangerously in front of the car. Eddie was jolted forwards as the car’s emergency brakes kicked in to prevent the motorcyclist from careering over the bonnet.
“Jeepers,” said Hiran from the rear passenger seat. The Indian technical ops specialist was not wearing a seat belt and had to brace himself on the rear headrest directly behind Eddie. He looked at the thin young man, who had thick black hair parted perfectly on one side and slicked back into a neat quiff. Eddie was impressed at how impeccably well dressed he was. He had a crisp white shirt under a black calfskin leather jacket that looked like it had been tailor-made for him. Eddie could see the outline of a thin gold chain beneath his shirt.
“Jeepers?” said Abigail from beside him, giving him a smile.
Hiran looked at her, his face still pressed against the seat.
“I do not curse Dr. Carroll,” he said.
“Ok, but there’s better words than jeepers,” she replied.
“It has the same effect,” Hiran said.
“Can’t argue with that,” said Abigail.
Eddie smiled and looked at the driver who seemed remarkably calm. He was military, so bad traffic was the least of his worries.
“How far?” Eddie asked the driver.
“Three miles,” he replied.
He turned to his two companions.
“Everyone check your weapons,” he said.
Abigail removed her firearm from its holster around her waist and checked the chamber. Hiran fumbled about in his jacket trying to remove his from his holster.
“There’s two clips on it, Hiran,” Eddie said.
Hiran was green. While he had been on field ops before, his main specialty was tech surveillance. He looked embarrassed as he unclipped his side arm and checked the chamber.
“Sorry Eddie, these new holster configurations are tricky,” Hiran said.
“Don’t worry about it, just relax,” Eddie said, turning back to face the road.
He made sure to exude complete confidence in his tone but in truth he could not be sure what the hell they would find. Maybe she was still there. Waiting for them in the living room. Waiting to take out their hearts. He reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out his Glock 22. He removed the clip, examined it and inserted it back into the sheath. He watched his hands carefully. They were steady. For now. He checked the safety and placed it back in his holster. He then reached across to his secondary identical firearm strapped against his other shoulder. He repeated the manoeuvre and placed it back in its holster. He always carried a minimum of two firearms into a field situation. Old habits die hard. There was something comfortable about it. Something familiar, like coming home from a long vacation.
“When we get inside we’ll clear the parameter first. After that Hiran, you can get to work on the optical rendering. I go on point, Abigail you follow next and Hiran you take up the rear. Standard sweep protocols, check your sixes and clear those rooms quickly. I want to be in and out in thirty minutes. The civilians have probably made mince meat of the scene so just get what you can from it,” Eddie said.
“Have the bodies been removed?” Hiran asked nervously.
“Yes, don’t worry, they’re gone. We have all the images we need so we can render them into your scan when you’re done. I don’t think the bodies are of any significance to our investigation anyway,” said Eddie.
“She was trying to make a point,” Abigail said looking at Hiran.
“And that would be?” Hiran said.
“She was trying to tell us not to send any more tack teams up against her,” Abigail said.
“Great, so here we are,” replied Hiran.
“She’s long gone, Hiran. Just get me those scans,” Eddie said.
“You know those guys were carrying full body armour, and she still punctured their vests,” Hiran said, “so what’s the point of us wearing them?” Hiran said.
“They’ll still stop a bullet, Hiran, better to have and not need and all that jazz,” Eddie said.
“Roger that,” Hiran replied.
The car made a right turn and began heading down a slip road. Eddie looked out at the small shanty towns they were passing. He rested his arm on the windowsill and watched as a shopkeeper threw a large bucket of water out on the street. The brown shutters of his small shop were closed. He looked up briefly at the car. Eddie stared at the shopkeeper as the car cruised past. He looked old. His white overalls suggested that the store was some sort of food dispensary. Possibly a butcher, as there were streaks of blood on his overalls. He let his eyes blur as he watched the scenery melt into one flowing image of shops and houses.
“Two minutes sir,” said the driver.
Eddie looked back at his passengers.
“Everyone set?” he said.
The pair nodded in unison.
“Remember, shoot first, ask questions later. Don’t take any chances,” Eddie said.
The car turned up a dirt road and proceeded to climb a steep incline.
CHAPTER THREE
It was quiet. A single orange lamp hung over the path, which led up to the scene of the carnage. Eddie took note of the stacked rows of shacks up ahead. Their metal roofs hung crookedly atop their dilapidated shells. He shone his flashlight up the muddy path and checked the darkest corners. There was no movement. He had instructed the driver to wait about a hundred meters down the road. It was just the three of them now.
“Any movement?” he asked.
Hiran was pointing a small infrared scanner towards the shack. He shook his head.
“All clear on this end. I’ve got heat signatures in three of the units but they seem to be asleep,” Hiran said.
Eddie looked back at the crooked little dwellings. Perfect for a safe house location. Unless Jaguar wanted you dead.
“Ok, let’s go,” he said.
He began walking up the stone
covered pathway towards the door. He drew his weapon in his right hand and crossed his left hand under it following his line of sight with his flashlight. Somewhere in the distance, he heard gunfire. It was several miles off to the east. The sound was followed by the faint wailing of sirens.
Somebody just got popped, he thought to himself.
Eddie took up a forward position standing with his back against the wall next to the wooden door. It was ajar. He looked down and saw a rudimentary locking mechanism comprised of rope attached to a small piece of wood. Abigail stood on the other side of the door and leaned her shoulder against it. Hiran stood next to Eddie. He looked at both of them, making sure they were all ready. They nodded back. Hiran peered around the frame and pushed the door open. It was stiff and creaked loudly. If she was somewhere in there, she damn well knew they were there by now so he decided to go for full breach. He gave it a hard shove and it flew back and slammed against the wall. He ducked down under the police tape and quickly flashed his light in every direction as quickly as possible. A plume of dust-filled air entered his lungs and he fought back the urge to cough.
The room was empty but the unmistakable stench of rotting flesh was still rife. He had been expecting it. He moved inside, with Abigail following. Shining his light around the living space, he made sure to clear the dark corners. The window to the rear of the shack was smashed as was the one next to the entrance.
“Hiran?” he whispered.
“It’s all clear, there’s definitely nobody home; Jesus, that smell,” Hiran whispered back.
“Put it out of your head. Abigail take the right,” he said to Abigail who nodded and began sweeping the area with her flashlight. He moved into the main living area. It was like something out of an old horror movie. There was blood everywhere. All over the floor, the ceiling and walls.
“Oh my god,” said Hiran from behind Eddie.
Eddie did not respond. It was best to let the young man process the scene for himself. He had been briefed, of course, but there is no manual that can prepare someone for death at this level.
“Hiran, take long slow breaths,” said Abigail.
Eddie found himself taking her advice as well, without realising it. She had a calming and reasoned voice that Eddie had counted on for a long time. All soldiers should have psych degrees, he thought to himself. The three-member team positioned themselves in a circle around the large bloodstain at the centre of the main living area. All three torches intersected on the dark brown residue of what had once been the corpses of the failed tactical team. There was an uneven chalk line around its edge. Eddie kneeled down and ran the light all around the broken floorboards to process every crack, every nail, every hair that he could see. He pointed his light up past Abigail’s head to a small shelf above an open fire pit. There was a can of coke perched in the middle of the shelf. He shook his head. There must have been a hundred boots coming and going through the scene; any DNA fragments they found would be useless. Besides, Stone would not leave any physical trace that she had been there. That was rule one. Psychotic or not, she was still a highly trained assassin.
“Ok begin your sweep Hiran, I want a complete rendering of the scene in thirty minutes,” he said to Hiran.
Hiran nodded, pulled the backpack he was wearing off his shoulder and opened it. He removed a small tripod and positioned it in the centre of the floor. He was staring at the dried pool of blood and seemed frozen..
“Go ahead Hiran, pretend it’s not there,” Eddie said.
“Easy for you to say,” Hiran said clearing his throat and taking a step onto the stained floor.
From inside his backpack he removed a small square device and locked it into the quick release holder of the tripod.
“We will need to clear this area for a few minutes while the scanner maps out the room,” Hiran said.
“How long?” Eddie asked.
“Five minutes,” Hiran replied.
Eddie motioned for Abigail to move out of the room. They left the area where Hiran was setting up his equipment and moved towards a small hallway that led to a bedroom at the end. Eddie glanced back at Hiran as the small square box on top of the tripod started spinning. A laser began shooting out in all directions, plotting the scene. He turned his torch and weapon towards the open wooden door at the end of the hall. There were blood stains on the walls leading all the way back to the entrance. Looking more closely, he realised there were hand prints on either side. Abigail was right behind him. He gestured with his head.
“What do you make of this?” he whispered.
Abigail shook her head.
“Couldn’t be hers; she’s not that incompetent,” she replied.
Eddie had to agree. He turned his torch on one of the bloody handprints and raised one of his own hands, placing it on top of the outline. It was close in size. The prints were undoubtedly that of a male.
“Someone tried to escape maybe?” Abigail said.
“Maybe,” Eddie replied, moving forward.
He maneuvered his flashlight inside the room and froze instantly. There was a torn and scraggy looking mattress on the floor covered in blood but his eyes were fixated on something else. On the far wall, written in blood, with drips reaching all the way to the floor, was a message.
“What is it?” Abigail whispered from behind.
Eddie looked at the wall:
I AM COMING FOR HER
There was a singular bloody handprint next to it. This one was different. Smaller. It was a haunting message, filled with rage. Eddie looked back at Abigail and motioned her forward. She moved past Eddie into the bedroom and pointed her flashlight towards the wall.
“Jesus,” she said.
“Not exactly friendly is it?” Eddie said.
Apart from the mattress, the rest of the room was completely empty. The floorboards creaked as Abigail moved around it.
“Who’s it for?” Eddie asked her.
Abigail moved over the wall with the bloody message written on it. She looked at the handprint.
“Make sure Hiran gets a rendering of this,” Abigail said
“No shit,” Eddie replied
“I think that’s her handprint,” Abigail said. “She’s talking directly to us.”
“Us?” Eddie replied.
“The agency, the government,” Abigail replied.
Eddie took a breath.
“She’s looking for revenge? For what?” Eddie said.
Abigail remained silent and moved across the message examining every word. She looked back at him. Eddie thought he spotted something hidden in her eyes. Something she wasn’t telling him.
“The training is rigorous Eddie. But some recruits don’t make it through; some crack up before it’s complete,” she replied.
“What the hell does that mean? You wrote her psych evaluation, no?” Eddie said.
Abigail turned away from him and looked back at the wall.
“She was fit for duty Eddie, but you’ve been in black ops, you know what can happen in the field. Maybe she saw something or experienced something we don’t know about,” Abigail replied.
Eddie was getting frustrated with her answers.
“What was her final mission, Abigail?” he asked bluntly.
He had asked Wise the same question but the Director had refused to answer.
“That’s classified, even above my pay grade Eddie; you know that,” Abigail said.
Eddie did not believe her and was about to challenge her when something caught his eye from outside the bedroom window. A brief flash of red light bounced quickly across his eye line. He looked out the window. Nothing. He spun back to look at Abigail and saw a small red dot appear on her forehead. Without a moment’s hesitation he dove towards her.
“Get down!” he shouted as his shoulder crashed into her chest, sending them both careening into
the bloodstained wall. As they made impact, he heard the unmistakable sound of bullets penetrating the wall above them. They dropped to the floor and covered their heads as a barrage of gunfire erupted. The ferocity of the incoming bullets began tearing up the bedroom, sending chunks of debris out in all directions. Shards of glass rained down on their heads. Eddie felt a sharp slice of pain on his right cheek as glass shrapnel cut into it. He lowered his head and looked to the door.
“Move!” he shouted at Abigail as he began crawling over the broken glass and wall remnants.
“Hiran!” he shouted.
There was no answer. Hiran would not have been able to hear him anyway with the noise level of the attack. The bullets continued. Eddie tried to think. He was furious with himself for not running an aerial sweep of the area before entering the building. Sloppy. He reached the entrance and looked back to make sure Abigail was still with him. Her expression was one of pure terror but she was alive and following closely on his heels. The bedroom was being torn apart above them. He moved into the hall, still on his belly. The machine gun fire suddenly stopped.
“Eddie!” came Hiran’s voice from up ahead.
Through the haze of smoke and dust, Eddie saw Hiran lying on the floor outside the main living area.
“You hit?” Eddie shouted to him.
No; what the hell?” Hiran replied.
He glanced back at Abigail.
“You ok?” said.
She nodded furiously. Eddie reached up to the hidden earpiece inside his right ear and tapped it.
“We need an evac, NOW!” he shouted into it.
“Sixty seconds,” said his driver’s voice.
He looked around at the falling debris. Abigail’s hair was covered in dust and pieces of the bedroom wall.
“Get ahead of me Abigail.”
He lifted his gun above his head and looked over her back. The sudden quiet made their own sounds louder. Eddie listened to Abigail’s shoes as they clambered across the floor.
“Hiran did you get the scan?” he said.