Terror Byte

by Park, J. R.

  ‘Name?’ George asked, taking the flash drive with his free hand. ‘Oh. Ha. Mel. They’re good quality these Memory Inc drives.’ George slipped the flash drive into his left, front jeans pocket. ‘So who is Mel?’ he said as he opened the cupboard and casually threw his technological load in without caring to look where it landed. ‘An ex?’

  ‘Sort of,’ Norton replied.

  George packed up his equipment and prepared to head home whilst Norton sat down in one of the new chairs that had been shipped in that day to replace those soaked with blood and vomit from yesterday’s atrocity.

  What had happened here? He thought to himself. Someone turns all the cameras off then gases the place? But there was no sign of any contamination. And why this place? What has anyone got against a recruitment company? A disgruntled employee? Was that even what this company did? He made a mental note that he needed to check that.

  Did George have anything to do with it? He had access to all the computer systems from a remote location. Could he have had access to the security systems? The lift controls? It was certainly worth further investigation.

  Why did the lift crash? The mechanics report said there was no evidence of foul play; the only damage came from the impact. It was like the lift just hurtled down the shaft at break neck speed of its own accord.

  Norton slumped forward resting his elbows on a desk and held his brow; despite the coffee he’d drunk he could still feel the effects of a hangover pulsating in his head. He sat back on the chair and began to feel tired. The comfort of his brand new seat began to relax his tense muscles. The fight had really taken it out of him earlier today.

  He looked at the office in its new condition, shining and gleaming; a world away from the sight he beheld this morning. That was the modern world, he guessed. Tidy everything up and keep going. What was the saying? Keep Calm and Carry On.

  Business has no time to grieve, he pondered, no soul to heal. Money must be made; work must continue.

  His mind began to drift idly as his eyelids slowly closed and sleep took its hold.

  His muscles felt limp and relaxed despite the confused and panicked state of his mind. It was dark and he was lost. He tried to move but his body refused to obey his commands. It was like Norton’s whole body had gone to sleep but his mind had not followed.

  Two figures began to grow visible from the dark surroundings. His heart stopped as he recognised the two ghosts before him. One with a crazed expression held a shotgun to the head of the other who looked terrified; her expression pleaded to Norton.

  ‘Mel!’ Norton gasped.

  He tried to move again, hoping that this extra motivation would inspire life in his limbs, but the extra effort yielded the same results. He lay helpless as if he was a passenger, as if he was in someone else’s body, as he watched the silhouetted lunatic aim the gun towards him.

  Bang!

  A shot fired and hit Norton in the shoulder. His arm felt wet and hot as the top of his shoulder disintegrated in the blast, the pain coursed through his body.

  More shots were fired, one after another, aimed directly at him as he lay motionless. Norton felt his stomach rip open and his intestines began to spill out onto his feet. Another shot shattered his left kneecap, the bone splintered into tiny pieces. His leg dangled, hanging on by a thread of flesh and skin. The third shot knocked him sideways as his hip exploded in a crimson shower. He tried to scream in pain but no sound came from his throat. He clenched his teeth together; the pain was unbearable and he prayed the next shot would kill him. He wished he would die.

  ‘If I could get the gun from him,’ Norton thought, ‘I’d finish myself.’

  He fell on to his front and felt a form of weak control return to his broken body. Clawing at the ground he slowly crawled forward toward the pair, with all the effort he could muster. Pulling what was left of himself along the floor he left a red, slippery trail behind him like some form of hellish slug.

  Suddenly faces started to appear out of the gloom, screeching and babbling as they became visible. One by one they rushed towards Norton, howling in his face like they were mocking him. Blood oozed from the ragged stumps of their bitten off tongues. As each one howled they collapsed to the floor, dying; making horrific choking sounds and barely human screams as they perished. Pulling himself through the corpses of these tortured souls he finally reached the man with the shotgun and saw the corpse of Mel at his feet.

  ‘Oh Mel,’ he wept and hugged her lifeless body. Half her face had been shot away, ‘Not again. I can’t do it anymore.’

  Suddenly he felt a tugging on his neck as the mad man grabbed the scruff of Norton’s collar and picked him up with freakish strength, lifting him up until they were level, eye to eye. As he stared into those dark, wild eyes he could see no trace of compassion or understanding. He felt the cold barrel of the shotgun push against his chin.

  ‘This must have been how Mel felt,’ thought Norton.

  As the gun went off Norton did not feel any impact of the shot. At first he felt his chin slowly crumble, both bone and skin breaking up into a fine powder. His nose followed suit and blood sprayed, as if in slow motion, as his nasal cavity tore to pieces. He watched his own teeth fly loose from his mouth and felt his tongue rip in half. The piece of tongue that remained had no jaw left to rest in so hung down loose by his neck, like a grotesque tie. The roof of his mouth cracked into fragments and as he felt his head split open he hoped this was the moment he had been waiting for. This was the moment he was going to die.

  Darkness.

  His muscles felt limp and relaxed, despite the confused and panicked state of his mind. It was dark and he was lost. He instinctively brought his hands to his face and despite the metallic taste of blood in his mouth he was relieved to feel his chiseled jaw was in one piece. Norton looked around and realised he was still in the offices of the Areas building. How long had he been asleep?

  It was dark and he remarked to himself how George must have turned the lights out on him. The windows let some light in from the street lamps outside to illuminate the edges of the room but did not penetrate any further, making it tricky to navigate around the desks and chairs. Norton moved slowly with his hands out so as to feel any obstacle in his path. Cautiously he made it to the edge of the room and began to feel around the wall looking for a light switch. There had to be one here, somewhere.

  He groped the wall until his hand stumbled upon a small plastic box, he recognised the shape and hit the switches. The first few lights closest to him came on, the sudden brightness caused him to squint and he momentarily shielded his eyes whilst they adjusted.

  At the far end of the office, still in semi darkness, he saw a woman dressed in a long, brown trench coat that went down to her knees. The woman had Japanese features and was startlingly attractive. Her shoulder length black hair flowed freely as she turned to face him. The coat was undone and revealed that she was wearing a black top and leggings with a pair of black leather boots that went all the way up to her toned thigh. Still groggy from his sleep Norton rubbed his eyes. Was he still dreaming?

  The sharp kick to his ribs immediately answered that question.

  In the space of a few seconds the woman had bolted across the room and hit him square in the chest with a well placed flying kick. He stumbled on his feet, disorientated. Another powerful kick hit Norton on the jaw, sending him crashing against a wall and then to the ground.

  Shaking it off, he got to his feet and gave chase as his assailant sped away. She had misjudged her route and missed the doorway, her exit now looked blocked as they came to a wall, a dead end. He held his arms out to grab his trapped target, but without breaking stride she jumped into the air and did a back flip over him. With honed reactions he reached up with his big hands and caught an ankle, slamming her down to the ground with a hard thump. The woman hit her head hard on the ground as she landed; her eyes rolled behind her eyelids and she lay still, groggy and stunned.

  ‘Who the hell-?’ Norto
n’s question was interrupted and attention diverted as, without warning, all the lights in the office blazed on, bathing the fighters and their surroundings in harsh, electric light.

  A voice boomed across the room as men in suits marched in, the man in the middle, obviously the leader, making all the noise.

  ‘What the hell? It’s been cleaned already?’

  The man wore a pin striped suit. It fitted too well against his frame to be an off the peg purchase. He was average looking in build, but Norton had already been fooled by how a suit could conceal muscle once today. The man had jet black hair, was clean shaven and well groomed. The other men followed him, slightly behind and listened intently to his every word.

  ‘I can’t believe it’s been cleaned already. They had better have used the scanner. I want this building sealed off. No one in. What the hell is he doing here?’

  Remembering his fight Norton looked back to find an empty space where a beautiful and very aggressive Japanese woman had laid. Angry with himself for letting her get away he chose not to mention anything to these people. He could never trust a man whose suit cost more than his own monthly mortgage repayments.

  ‘Who the hell are you?’ asked Norton.

  ‘Who the hell am I!’ the man replied, his aggressive tone had not abated since his startling entrance. ‘Who the hell are you?’

  ‘Detective Norton,’ he answered obligingly. ‘I’m investigating the deaths that happened here.’

  ‘Were investigating the deaths that happened here,’ the man in the expensive suit barked. ‘I’m Royal. MI5. This is our case now. I want you out of the building in fifteen minutes.’

  Two of Royal’s men approached Norton from either side to usher him out.

  ‘So this is what a cop looks like now-a-days huh?’ scoffed Royal. ‘Can somebody search him please?’

  The two men searched through his pockets. Norton held his hands up and let them carry on. He had been in enough scrapes already today, this battle with MI5 could wait, he was sure he would see them again.

  On searching Norton the two men found a wallet, a phone, his warrant card, standard issue handcuffs, a small bottle of whiskey (half empty), a receipt for a takeout coffee and a carefully folded piece of paper with a hand written message on it.

  It read:

  Back soon.

  Love you.

  Mel xxx.

  ‘You’re off the case,’ Chief Inspector Hart often looked stern, but this was a level of anger that was rare in him. His hardened features started to turn red as blood filled his cheeks and his temper began to boil over.

  In rage he had stood to his feet, knocking his chair over and slamming his fists into the papers that covered the work surface of his crowded desk. He stared directly into Norton’s equally seething eyes. It was due to times like this that his office had been sound proofed decades ago.

  After his run in with the MI5 yesterday Norton had headed home to sleep off the hangover and bruises that had marked a turbulent day. He was in the station early the next morning and made his way directly to CI Hart’s office to discuss the MI5 intervention. It seemed Hart had been in for hours and was expecting Norton’s rant. He seemed fully aware of the situation and didn’t seem happy either, especially to be caught in the middle.

  ‘Not only are you off the case’, Hart continued to put Norton in his place, pointing his figure in short, aggressive motions, ‘there is no case. MI5 came in yesterday. They took the case over then closed it down.’

  ‘They did what?’ Norton was about to escalate the verbal assault that had been cut off before its prime. Sadly he was denied again as Hart jumped back in.

  ‘Oh like you I was curious,’ Hart shouted, ‘so I tried to find out what was going on. I have been on the phone for hours and tried everyone I know. You know the most I got? MI5 have the matter in hand. That’s it.’

  ‘You can’t just let them do that,’ protested Norton.

  ‘Do you know how hushed up this is? I spoke to people in the agency that owes me their lives and all I get back is the same MI5 have the matter in hand. I met a wall of silence, the likes of which I have never encountered before. This is big and goes to the top.’ Hart’s honesty was a clear symptom of the frustration he was having with this affair, ‘It’s best we keep clear and let them do their business, Detective. They are coming in today to remove the last pieces of evidence we have here. You may want to make yourself scarce!’

  ‘I’ll be here,’ Norton had calmed down slightly, realising that Hart was not the enemy here and could do nothing further. ‘I have a job to do.’

  Norton left the Chief Inspector’s office and headed deeper into the station. His mind was racing with questions. What had happened? Why had MI5 got involved and more importantly why had they closed the case down? He needed answers. It was against everything he stood for to leave those deaths unsolved. What if it happened again? He couldn’t let that rest on his conscience. He had already let one person die, it wouldn’t happen again.

  He still had very little in the way of leads to go on, but the latest mystery to be added to the case was the appearance, and subsequent disappearance, of the beautiful Japanese woman. Beautiful but deadly he reminded himself as he rubbed his bruised side. Why was she there and what was she doing? Who was she and how did she connect with the deaths?

  Norton made his way to a small room where a uniformed policeman was sat in front of a computer terminal.

  ‘Greeves,’ Norton greeted the man with a nod.

  ‘Hey Norton, how are you today?’ Greeves looked up from his computer screen and gave a smile. ‘What can I do you for?’

  ‘I need you to run a photo fit for me. See if we have any information on a potential suspect I ran into last night,’ Norton asked whilst taking a seat next to his colleague. The detective’s large frame dwarfed the chair as he sat down.

  The two chatted for half an hour as first Norton explained what had happened last night then described the woman’s features, bit by bit. Greeves listened and selected features on the computer following the description. He asked further questions and made refinements to the profile, widening and narrowing spaces between features until Norton was satisfied with the outcome. The detective had done this many times before so he knew the procedure and he knew to not stop until it was as best as his memory would allow.

  ‘That’s it,’ said Norton with achievement in his voice when they had finally completed the photo fit.

  ‘She’s certainly pretty. Let’s have a look and see what we have,’ said Greeves as he began to run the image through the database, checking for any matches.

  The program took a few minutes to complete its checks and the two waited with anticipation.

  ‘Bingo,’ exclaimed Greeves, ‘you are good Norton, we’ve got a perfect match.’

  The two leaned closer to the computer as information appeared on the screen.

  Greeves read it out aloud, ‘Only known as Orchid, real name: unknown. Family: unknown. Birthplace: unknown. Current location: unknown. It seems we have a right little mystery on our hands.’ He turned to Norton, ‘Let’s look at the intel.’ He turned back to the screen and scrolled through different tabs of information, ‘Here we go, your mystery girl is a known mercenary. There are warrants out for her arrest in connection to murders seemingly in the sphere of the rich and influential. Well, well, she was behind the death of that German diplomat a couple years back. Looks like it wasn’t really a heart attack. Mostly though it seems she is a thief. Operates around the world with photos and reports of her in many different countries.’

  ‘A high flyer,’ Norton commented.

  ‘Indeed. Slippery too,’ Greeves added, his tone suggested he was impressed with what he read, ‘looks like she has only been caught once. Detained by authorities in Brazil five years ago. She escaped, but not before a slaughter of half the station.’

  ‘She doesn’t like to be cornered, I can vouch for that,’ Norton leaned back in his chair. It groaned under his
weight.

  ‘She normally packs a Samurai sword under that big coat of hers. Norton you got off lightly,’ he half joked.

  ‘Not you guys too!’ Sergeant Robinson said as she walked past and put her head round the door.

  ‘What?’ asked Norton.

  ‘You’re looking at the new hottie too! She was transferred over today. The boys have been lusting over her all morning. You can practically cut the air it’s so thick with hormones.’

  ‘New transfer?’ quizzed Norton. ‘Her?’

  He pointed to the picture on the computer screen.

  ‘Yeah. That’s PC Pearce,’ she took the mouse and changed the view to the security cameras of the station, flicking between them before stopping on one view. ‘There she is, down in evidence.’

  Norton and Greeves leaned closer and compared the image on the camera view to that from the photo fit database. She was wearing a police uniform, but there was no mistaking those alluring features. It was Orchid.

  The station had never felt so vast as Norton bolted out of the photo fit lab and ran down to the lower level where the evidence room was located. He had to admit that Orchid was bold to walk into a police station undercover, but her confidence would be her undoing.

  He almost fell down the stairs, making an ungainly entrance into the evidence room as he slipped and tumbled. The sudden crash of Norton coming through the door startled Orchid who turned around to see who had disturbed her.

  ‘You may be dressed like one but you’re no cop. I know who you are, Orchid,’ Norton gasped as he caught his breath. ‘I’ve got you trapped. You’ve nowhere to go.’

  Orchid looked at the wheezing detective and gave a wry smile, ‘You had me cornered before. It didn’t work out well for you then did it?’

  ‘It’s just me and you this time,’ Norton said as he walked towards her.

  Orchid used the pile of weapons amassed as evidence to her advantage. Picking up a knife she threw it at Norton, aiming it at his head. He dived to the floor, dodging the blade as it buried itself into the wall behind him. Using the distraction Orchid picked up a crude, homemade mace constructed of nails driven into a baseball bat, and swung it, smashing a window next to her. The window led out onto a ramp from the underground car park and to freedom. With speed and agility she vaulted through the make shift exit so when Norton got back to his feet he was confronted with an empty room.