The Wraith- Welcome Home

by Jeffery H. Haskell

  With the hole punched I got down on my belly and held my eye up to it, summoning my powers so I could see in the total darkness. The inside of the container appeared in the bizarre inverted light and shadow world I can see in when using my abilities. The shadows vanished, showing me enough space to fit my body. I reached into the back of my mind and triggered that place where the shadow step existed. Instantly I was laying on top of a shrink-wrapped pallet.

  Despite my dark-vision, I couldn’t read the labeling; it, I needed light to differentiate the words from the shadow. That’s where the little LED light I carried came in handy. I clicked it on and pointed it at the pallets as I climbed to my knees. The light illuminated the entire inside of the container, showing me what I was kneeling on.

  “Oh boy,” I said out loud.

  Each of the pallets held hundreds of brown bricks printed with large, black lettering:

  BLOCK, DEMOLITION, M4

  (COMPOSITION C4)

  LOT #XZ4498-998321-SW1138

  “Well, crap.”

  A quick search of the trailer told me the entire thing was filled with the explosive. I counted the number across and down, multiplied, and came up with 18,000 pounds of C-4. Good Lord. What did they want with that much explosive? They could level a football stadium with it. More than likely it was several years supply. They probably got a good deal on a black-market explosives and decided to stock up. Where do you even go to order such a thing?

  Regardless, I wasn’t going to let them keep any of it. And since they were kind enough to provide me with the means of their own demise, I decided to take advantage. C4 requires both a shockwave and extreme heat, at the same time, in order to detonate. That meant I couldn’t just shoot it or light it on fire; I needed something with a big enough kick to detonate it. Something powerful… like a lightning bolt. I smiled as I thought of a plan. I don’t know the odds of a random bolt of lightning but I did know how much juice flows through power lines. If I could rig a detonator, something with a kick, like a grenade and send electricity through it at the same time… boom goes the dynamite.

  Oh, this is going to be so much fun.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sergeant First Class Bill Farrel waited patiently behind the semi-closed doors of the plain box van he and his team occupied. The three men behind him—and the one on a nearby rooftop—were all highly trained and decorated Army Rangers and Special Forces types… something he never was. No, Bill had spent his career in the Army Criminal Investigations Division, or CID as it was commonly known.

  Today, the five-man special investigative unit was outfitted for urban operations. Police blue uniforms with exterior vests labeled “US ARMY” on the front and “CID FEDERAL AGENT” on the back. They also had badges on their belts and were trained to yell “federal agents” when they went in. In his experience civilians didn’t know what to do when a federal agent told them to get down. That was okay, though, since the people he was after weren’t really civilians.

  “Yo, Bill, how long?”

  In a normal unit, addressing him by his first name would be a big no-no. CID was a little different. He’d worked with these guys for years and they were a well-oiled machine.

  “Fifteen mikes, Sandy,” he replied without looking. Sandoval was their super. There weren’t enough in the military for every unit to have one, but Bill’s unit was different; they were tasked with tracking and recovering stolen Army weapons, mostly explosives and other dangerous items. Today, they were after a Warrant Officer who was selling C4 to an unknown group.

  It frustrated him no end that they were so blind on this one. He couldn’t trust local law-enforcement—not here in New Orleans anyway. There were plenty that were good, honest types, even here, but he didn’t know who they were. And he didn’t want ten pounds of C4 ending up in the hands of bad guys because he trusted the wrong person. Protocol demanded they notify the local cops when the CID operated inside city limits, and they would… the second after they left the van.

  Besides Sandy, the other three were normal humans, highly trained and specialized. Rico was his comms expert. Right now, the brown-haired man had three drones silently hovering above the empty lot, each with powerful HD cameras using military grade optics recording everything they saw. Despite the rain and the wind, Rico held them in orbit and recording as much as they could.

  Somewhere (to avoid compromising the position on the off chance their targets had telepaths or some other form of ESP Bill didn’t know where specifically) Felix covered them with his high-powered rifle. Felix was their only straight-up combat soldier. He was deadly with a hundred kinds of weapons Bill knew about, and far more he didn’t.

  Finally, Zim, who slept with his feet up on the dash, snoozing as he almost always did before an op. Zim was their medic and operations officer. He knew all the rules and regulations, on top of his skill as a field medic.

  With the exception of Sandy. He had gone through Basic training and AIT and completed all of four years in the Army when his powers manifested. Despite his relatively low level of training, he was incredibly useful.

  “They’re arriving,” Rico said, sitting up as his general disinterested facade vanished, replaced by a high alert. Zim was next to him before Bill finished turning around. The three men huddled over the monitor, looking for whatever Rico saw.

  “There,” Rico said, pointing at the center screen while adjusting the drone’s angle. The rain vanished for a second and four black SUVs rolled into the large lot, squished between two tall warehouses. The lot had once held storage silos but only the circular remnant of them remained; now it was large and open enough for exactly this kind of deal, but closed off from the street. Perfect for shady crap like this.

  Eight men with SMGs, all dressed in black suits, spiled out of the SUVs. The leader was fairly obvious. He was a tall Latino man with a large silver revolver he kept twirling like he was in the wild west.

  “Jackass,” Zim whispered.

  Bill agreed.

  “These are the buyers,” Rico said.

  “What makes you think that?” Bill asked.

  “Look,” he said as he switched the camera to thermal. The people outside the vehicles lit up in bright red and yellow splotches, as did the engines of the SUVs. However the interiors were cold. “Normally thermal can’t see through metal, but they left their windows down. Anyone inside would bleed heat outside. If they were the sellers, they wouldn’t leave the product behind.”

  Bill nodded his agreement. He pointed at each monitor, counting the tangos. He swore under his breath. His five-man team couldn’t take down twenty guys, even with the element of surprise.

  “I don’t like the odds. We’re going to wait until the other guys leave. As much as I would like to take them all down, we can use the video of the sellers and tag them with trackers to snatch them later. Right now, our priority is recovering the explosives, hu?”

  They all gave the customary response back. Satisfied, Bill nodded and moved back to his position at the rear of the van. The drones were nice, but he wanted his own eyes on the scene.

  <<<<>>>>

  The trucks rumbled as they slowed down to turn. This signaled my time was up. I crawled back to the front, hoping my makeshift explosive detonator would do the trick once it was hit by electricity. I shut the penlight off and used the incoming moonlight to find the hole. Once there I pressed my eye up against the small hole and caught a glimpse of a dark ledge. Then I triggered my shadow step.

  I don’t know if I will ever become accustomed to the feeling. It’s like my body dissolved, then I’m blasted with a rush of cold air—the coldest I’ve ever felt. Worse than the time I had to run out of the hotel in the middle of a New York winter wearing nothing but a nightie. Then I’m back and the feeling is gone before I can blink.

  The cold wet air hit me in the face and I materialize in a rush of movement as I burst out of the shadows on the rooftop. I don’t know how it all worked, but it does. I could see in the dark, sens
e living creatures, move faster, hit harder, and recover from wounds that would kill anyone else. Not to mention I had incredible strength when I needed it.

  The rain pouring down around me in sheets didn’t bother me at all; I could see the rooftop as if it were under a noonday sun. Yet, somehow, I still managed to almost miss the guy lying down in the far corner, pressed right up against the buttress, with a sniper rifle pointed at the gathering flock of black SUVs in the wide-open courtyard.

  I froze, not wanting to alert him to my presence. He wore a poncho that covered everything but his military-style boots—the same kind Joseph wore all the time. Since he didn’t move he probably didn’t know I was there. I’m not surprised, considering the only reason I saw him was my enhanced vision. Even in the late afternoon it was dark as evening, with the angry black clouds disgorging a million gallons per minute.

  Is he overwatch for the arms deal?

  I moved closer, watching for any sign he heard me as I slipped my silenced pistol out of the hip holster it rested in.

  “Bravo One-One, this is Whiskey. Vehicles are approaching the target area. I count four tractors with trailers; based on the impressions they’re making in the mud they are loaded down with the stolen package and then some.”

  The response came from the headset the sniper wore. I couldn’t see the radio but the garbled answer made it clear this wasn’t an ISO-1 agent.

  “Roger Whiskey-One, wait until the cargo changes hands then we follow the buyers and intercept the package. Romeo will have one of his drones tag the sellers and we’ll track them later.”

  “Wilco,” came the sniper’s reply.

  Clearly, they weren’t the bad guys. If I had to guess I’d say Army Intelligence? Maybe? I shrugged to myself. Joseph taught me a lot, but I only trained and studied with him for three months. There’s a whole lot more to learn than three months’ worth, even if my days and nights were packed with reading and fighting. I make a note for later—try and find out who these guys are. In the meantime, it leaves me with a problem.

  I triggered my shadow step, vanishing in an instant and reappearing on the opposite rooftop beside a water tower. I dodged behind it immediately.

  I don’t know how, but the sniper must have sensed me, he was turning around to look behind him and I had to go. Maybe it was a coincidence, or maybe the guy was just that good. Either way, it was a good reminder to take more care. The fewer people know I exist, the better. I also didn’t want to accidentally kill a good guy, which brought me to my next problem.

  The detonator.

  I rigged it using my cellphone and a thermite grenade I carry around for close encounters. It shouldn’t detonate without a phone call and a jolt of high-powered electricity. Shouldn’t…

  I know what Joseph would say: “Luck, isn’t a plan.” I can practically hear his voice. If it does detonate and those Federal Agents are nearby, it will kill them as surely as the ISO people.

  Dangit. Time for Plan B.

  Step 1: get down there and disarm the explosive.

  Step 2: kill all the bad guys.

  I liked step 2.

  With that sniper on overwatch and with only four pistols, two knives, and a sword to my name, it’s going to be tricky. I counted roughly thirty guys at the docks and another twenty here. More than I can take head-on, but not more than I can take.

  I got down low and fast walked over to the far side, making sure to keep the two-foot-tall parapet between me and the sniper. I had to ditch my poncho, which meant having the rain soak me through, again. It was too loud, though; I couldn’t risk someone hearing it.

  It took me all of ten seconds to find the leader of the buyers—a real conceited dirtbag twirling around a silver revolver. At least he’s out in the rain with his people and not in a warm, dry SUV while they all get soaked to the bone.

  Maybe they can put that on his obituary.

  He’s surrounded by his men; there isn’t any way to take him out first without giving up the element of surprise. If only I had a frag grenade, that would be something!

  “Those two, right there,” Sara said, appearing beside me in the wind and rain without a drop on her. I didn’t shout but my whole body jerked to the side and I lost my balance and ended up in a puddle. She laughed, her voice like tinkling bells. God, how I missed that laugh.

  “You could warn me before you do that, Spice,” I said to her. Ever since Joseph passed these powers on to me I’ve had visions of her. Each as real as the last. Each one freaking me out like nothing else in my life.

  “Where’s the fun in that?” She threw an impish smile at me then pointed again. I looked at where she pointed. Two men were walking the perimeter under the Army sniper’s perch. He had no way of knowing they were there. Perfect. I looked over at her to say ‘thank you,’ but she was gone.

  I shook my head. Maybe I was losing my mind. Or maybe I was seeing a ghost? Stranger things have happened in this world. Still… freaked me out. I pulled myself out of the puddle and crouch-walked back the way I came until I was at the closest end of the warehouse. I hated operating during the day, but if I had too, this was the day to do it. The dark clouds belched rain and thundered lightning every few seconds. That made it easy enough to find a shadow the two men walking perimeter would pass through.

  I readied myself. First, I pulled out the red scarf I used to disguise my identity. I wrapped it around my mouth and nose and tied it in a knot beneath my growing mess of dreadlocks. Then I pulled out both my tanto Ka-Bars.

  Shadow step took me right behind them. I rammed the Ka-Bars up through their backs and into their lungs. They tried to call out, but their lungs collapsed along with them a second later. Whatever sounds they managed to make couldn’t be heard over the wind and rain.

  I frowned. Nothing happened. No rush, no surge of power. Nothing.

  Am I ever going to figure out how these powers work?

  Regardless, I dragged them back behind a hunk of abandoned machinery leaning against the wall. With two down and the rest helping park the semis or watch the action, I had a first step. All I needed to do was figure out which semi had the explosives, teleport into it, disarm my detonator, and proceed to kill the other forty-odd guys here.

  Easy.

  ***

  “Did you see that?” Rico asked to no one in particular. “What?” Master Sergeant Farrel replied as he leaned closer.

  “Hold on,” Rico said as his hands flew over the controls, changing buttons and typing in commands faster than Bill could follow. One of the four drones hovering five-hundred feet above the area had caught a flash of light. Rico rewound the recording, played it then rewound it again. To conserve hard-drive space, the drones only collected an image every four seconds. As Rico played the frame forward it zoomed in on two men walking the perimeter below Felix’s OP. A blue light hit the men like a camera flash and the next frame they were gone. Nothing but empty ground and no sounds of alarm.

  “Whiskey, we have a possible super on the field.” That got everyone’s attention. There were incredibly harsh penalties for people who used their powers in the commission of a crime, incredibly harsh. Even still, it was pretty common. One of the reasons he loved having Sandy on the team. “Switch to AP ammo, I say again, AP ammo.”

  It was a practiced drill, popping out their mags and replacing them with the red striped ones. Armor piercing ammo wasn’t a hundred percent effective against the invulnerable types, but it was better than nothing.

  “You wanna call in the Saints, boss?” Zim asked from the driver’s compartment.

  Bill shook his head. “Not yet. If we can’t handle it, then yeah, maybe.” Bill had never worked with the Saints, but their leader was an ex-Airforce Colonel who went by the name Mach. Odds were they could trust them… maybe.

  ***

  I bounced around the perimeter, jumping from shadow to shadow until I found the perfect position. I could see all four trucks as they backed up and parked the trailers side-by-side and opened each on
e for inspection.

  It only took me a minute to figure out who was in charge of the sellers. He was tall, blond, and built like a tank. I sure hoped he wasn’t another invulnerable; I’d had enough trouble with the last one—and I was all out of thermite grenades.

  He walked over and spoke to the local with the silver pistol, who was smart enough to put it away when the sellers arrived.

  I supposed I could start a fight between them, get them shooting at each other… that would probably happen anyway. But first things first. I needed to disarm my bomb and make sure it didn’t accidentally kill the good guys.

  I made a mental note to figure out how to avoid this in the future. I didn’t want to kill cops or federal agents, but at the same time, they were clearly not doing their job. How could I do mine and not risk bystanders? I wondered if that was one of the reasons Joseph quit. Was the risk of killing innocents too high?

  I re-focused on what I was doing; the last thing I needed was for some street-level thug to sneak up on me and finish my crusade before I’ve even started.

  The first trailer opened with a bang as the big metal doors swung aside.

  “Holy crap,” I said out loud, unable to contain myself. I thought the one trailer full of C4 was bad, this one had crate after crate of military ordinance. I didn’t know what an XM25 was but the big “EXPERIMENTAL” tag on the crate was enough to send a shiver down my spine. The next trailer held more traditional small arms: M4 Carbines, Sig P320s, and several stacks of grenades.

  Awesome. What were they planning?

  When the last guy at the meet told me about this deal I figured it would be street level at best. The C4 was a surprise, but this? This is frigging insane. What did the Russians do, raid the Redstone Arsenal? The Army guys must be crapping their pants; this is a whole lot of ordinance heading for a war. Just not one fought by the government.

  The last trailer opened, showing the pallets loaded with C4. Perfect. I triggered my shadow step. A blast of arctic cold later and I was all the way in the front of the trailer. I sliced through the duct tape holding the cellphone to the thermite grenade and pocketed both. No need to leave it behind. It’s nice to know the Army is here; I can’t let ISO have all this crap any more than they can.