by K. C. Sivils
“Yes,” Father Nathan snapped. “I do. Something evil is going on, in a spiritual sense. I don't sleep well when my soul is troubled like this and don't give me that look, Sully."
My patience was growing thin. A hunch was a hunch, and I was okay with that. I followed my hunches. Why Father Nathan had to make everything about his faith was beyond me. I held my tongue. My friend was highly observant and no saint despite being a priest. Besides, things he thought were of a spiritual nature could be just his brain telling him to put two and two together.
“Tell me this, Sully. Have you wondered about Greg? Your ex-Shore Patrol member who picked us up at the spaceport?”
"No," I replied. "It was random to have Greg pick us up at the spaceport, but life is random. It was good to catch up."
"Yeah, well, it's random, and it's not random. It's been bothering me, and now I have discerned why."
JENNIFER OBSERVED FROM the hidden safety of the restaurant office. Delmarte’s was her master’s latest business venture. Markeson was the silent partner, and majority investor, in the new, upscale restaurant.
As much as the Chief of Police for Beta Prime liked eating out and entertaining at fine dining establishments, it had never been a goal of his to own and operate one, even as a silent partner. Until it occurred to him that well-placed cameras and microphones with a state-of-the-art recording system that transferred all recordings to an off-site location for evaluation and flagging would make for an excellent business asset.
It wasn’t that Markeson wanted to blackmail people directly as much as it was the information he valued. Knowing things allowed him to act proactively or if necessary to strike to eliminate a potential problem or enemy.
Tonight’s events had nothing to do with obtaining insider information. Quite the opposite. It was all about extortion and blackmail. Jennifer watched her rival with interest as she flirted and made it obvious how she wanted the evening to end. As much as the A.I. didn’t like Cassandra, she begrudgingly respected the woman’s skill as a temptress.
Governor Rankin seemed to think so as well. He reached for his comm and sent a link. Jennifer watched the monitor and noted the link had gone to Rankin’s wife. Things were going well, too easy in fact. But then again, Rankin was not particularly bright, even for a politician, and it hadn’t been that difficult for Markeson to make Cassandra realize it was over between them. She was more than willing to settle for a consolation prize when Markeson explained the Governor was far more likely to want to keep Cassandra for himself. With Markeson, Cassandra had to work other male marks to keep her in an apartment, clothes, and dinners at trendy restaurants. With the Governor, if Cassandra played her cards right, she’d be a kept woman.
It appeared Cassandra was playing her cards right.
The couple stood to leave. Cassandra was smiling as she took the Governor’s arm and leaned against him. The entire dinner conversation had been digitally recorded and sent off to the storage server on the secure cloud Markeson owned. In a few hours, an even more valuable set of video and audio recordings would be added to the video just collected.
“Two birds with one stone,” Jennifer said aloud, pleased with herself for eliminating Cassandra as a source of competition while providing her master with a way to finally get complete control of the Governor.
“Stupid blonde,” Jennifer remarked. “Not that men are much smarter.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I eased the driver’s seat back in our rented hovercar and got comfortable. Sarah had disappeared over twenty minutes earlier and despite her childish behavior of late appeared to be focused on our task at hand. A glance at the chronometer on the dashboard told me it was nearly showtime.
Father Nathan has a lot of faults. Being late is not one of them.
Right on time, he turned the corner down the block, dressed in his black cleric's attire, and strolled down the sidewalk. He smiled and waved at the few pedestrians he passed. I watched him stop at the street entrance to The New Light Church. My friend wiped the sweat of his brow, opened the door, and disappeared inside.
Sarah had the back of the building covered. Anyone who left in a hurry would be tailed and never be aware they were being followed. I only hoped Sarah wouldn’t do anything stupid like confront an armed man or group of men.
Anyone who fled through the front entrance would deal with me.
The mood I was in my plan was to use my fists first and worry about complaints later. I checked my .50 caliber projectile weapon sitting comfortably in my shoulder holster. My backup piece was in its ankle holster in my boot. I had a throw down piece tucked inside my jacket pocket. In the glovebox was an energy weapon. I'd use it as a last resort. If I shoot somebody, I'm not interested in burning off tissue. I want to knock them down on impact, to shatter bone and tear flesh.
I adjusted the temperature on the vehicle’s climate control to the lowest possible setting. I’d lived in the cold of Beta Prime for too long. The heat of Athens II was getting to me.
A glance at my hands served to measure my anxiety level. It didn’t matter how many times I’d kicked in a door or sat in wait, the unknown always worried me. Sarah had me unsettled with her stranger than normal behavior. Father Nathan was ex-Alliance Special Forces and no slouch in a fight. But he’d gone in with no weapons save his fists and feet.
My two best friends were risking their safety, their lives, to help me save the life of a daughter that until a few days ago I didn’t even know I had.
THE SOUND OF THE DOOR leading to the small offices in the back of the facilities slammed, startling Vick. He sat down the knife he'd been using to cut up onions for that evening's soup. Wiping his hands on the stained white apron he wore, Vick stepped around the prep table. He untied the apron and took it off, hanging it on a hook by the kitchen entrance.
With care, Vick opened the door and peeked down the hall towards the back. Not seeing anyone, Vick shrugged and muttered to himself about hearing things. Donning the apron again he went back to chopping onions.
Relieved he hadn’t been followed, Father Nathan stepped out from the shallow alcove he’d slipped in after the door had slammed. After looking about for a moment, he got his bearings and padded carefully towards his intended destination. He stopped outside the closed door and listened for any hint the room was occupied. His patience had worn thin, his spirit sensing the answer to his inner turmoil was just inside the door.
The priest took one step back and raised his right foot to waist height. One good kick and the door leaped inwards into the office. He wasn't surprised by who he found sitting inside.
UNABLE TO CONCENTRATE, Saundra excused herself from the advisory council meeting. She entered her office and hurried over to the viewscreen and stared at the projected image of an unspoiled landscape from the southern hemisphere of Athens II.
“XR-281.”
“Yes, Chancellor?”
“Open a link to Inspector Sullivan.”
“Yes, Chancellor.”
Saundra folded her arms and tapped the toe of her right foot while she waited impatiently.
“I have a link, Chancellor. Would you like for me to put it on speaker?”
The A.I.’s normally soothing tone grated on Saundra. She flinched and snapped at the office A.I. “Yes, XR-281! Do I have to think of everything?”
Ignoring the Chancellor’s outburst, XR-281 spoke in her soothing voice. “Inspector Sullivan, thank you for responding so quickly to the link I sent. This is XR-281 contacting you on behalf of Chancellor Vanzetti.”
Sullivan’s deep voice barked in response, ever so slightly vibrating the speaker. “What does she want? I’m a bit occupied at the moment.”
Unflappable as always, XR-281 remained silent, allowing the Chancellor to respond as she desired.
“Where are you, Sully?”
“What do you want?”
“Where are you, Sully?”
“Trying to locate our daughter, Saundra, if you must know.”
Exasper
ated and angry at not being in control, Saundra rushed towards her desk and leaned over the speaker. “Where are you! I demand to know, Sully. You seem to forget I’m paying you, that I’m the Chancellor of Athens II!”
Sully laughed. "You seem to forget I'm an IAPF Inspector. I have jurisdiction anywhere in Alliance space, and I haven't taken a dime from you. You should know I have low friends in high places. You don't scare me in the slightest, Saundra."
Speechless at Sully’s bravado, Saundra stumbled forward, bumping into her desk and losing her balance. Falling into her chair, Saundra slammed her fist down on the desktop in a rage.
“How dare you speak to me in that manner!”
"I'll talk to you any way I feel like, Saundra. You seem to forget you called me. That you need this to be handled off the books." Sully's voice ominously dropped an octave. "I'm not a kid anymore, Chancellor. You can wiggle your butt and batt your eyes all you want. You don't own me anymore."
A muffled crack exploded from the speaker. Saundra heard Sully swear as the link broke. The room began to spin, tilting at an odd angle. The Chancellor slipped from her chair, striking her forehead on the sharp edge of the desk.
XR-281 sent an emergency link to Ambassador Marshall. The A.I. urged him to hurry but to be discrete.
BROKEN NOSE TOSSED the comm on the table.
“We’ve got to go,” he informed Bert.
“What for?”
“Don’t know. Something’s up though.”
“Was it the Boss?”
“No. But I could hear a lot of yelling and noise.”
Bert nodded. Trouble had a way of cropping up in even the best organizations. They’d relocate Katrina and lay low.
“I’ll get her,” Bert offered. “You gather everything up.”
Broken Nose stared at his partner for a moment as if pondering whether or not to disagree. He seemed to change his mind and nodded in agreement.
“Okay, Bert. You do that. We’ve got to move. Now!”
“Where to?”
“I’ve got the directions. I’ll be outside in the alley waiting.”
Bert watched his partner vanish out the door. He’d have to be careful. Stress did strange things to people who weren’t stable. His partner wasn’t too steady at the best of times. He knocked twice on the doorframe and then stuck his head through the door. Sitting on the edge of the cot was a disheveled Katrina.
"I'm going to untie you," Bert told her. "That includes taking the gag out of your mouth. Something's happened, and we have to move."
Katrina watched his face closely, taking note of how angry and intense Bert’s expression was. She nodded her understanding.
“Behave yourself. My partner still wants to hurt you for biting him. Having to move like this gives him the excuse he needs to hurt you.” Bert pulled the gag from Katrina’s mouth.
“Understand?”
Katrina licked her dry lips and swallowed. Her voice croaked as she responded with a simple yes.
"This is dangerous for everyone," Bert explained, kneeling as he tugged at the restraints on Katrina's legs. "We don't know what is going on." He looked up at Katrina. "I'm serious. If things go bad and the choice is you or me, I've already made that choice.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Gun in hand I walked quickly across the street. I didn’t have to tell the passersby to get lost. People who live in rough neighborhoods know to vanish at the first sound of gunfire or energy weapons being discharged.
I had to bull my way through the people pushing and shoving each other to get out of the main entrance of the church. Once inside it was easy to locate the direction the sounds of fighting were coming from. As long as there was some noise, it meant Father Nathan was alive.
With caution I opened the door to the hallway about two centimeters and scanned the area with my cybernetic eye, recording everything. I pulled back, allowing the door to close and pulled up the video I had just recorded. Father Nathan was leaning with his back against the wall of an alcove. His breathing was labored, and the black cloth of his cleric's suit contrasted sharply against the pale white coloring of his face.
Quiet settled over the building. Barely visible in the greyish white smoke filling the hallway was a small semi-automatic projectile weapon protruding from the wrecked doorway. The gun began to shake as the perp wielding the weapon started to ease out from the cover of the room.
I pulled up my targeting software for my right eye and waited for the perp to step entirely into the hallway, giving me a good line of sight to aim. Nobody was going to shoot Father Nathan and walk away alive. I made sure the safety was off on my firearm and made ready to step through the door into the hallway.
When I saw the perp's face, I froze for just a second. It was enough time for my better judgment to prevail. I stepped through the door and fired.
“THINGS SEEM TO BE GOING well with your scheme,” Markeson informed Jennifer. The cyborg smiled and set the plate of hot food down in front of her master. “Rankin has been sending me messages all morning about how good Cassandra was in bed.”
“She is enthusiastic, I will give her that,” Jennifer replied causing a frown to creep across Markeson’s face. “How would you know?”
“Because I reviewed the video as it was recorded live.” Jennifer sat down across from Markeson. “As an advanced, self-aware, sentient A.I. I can multitask. The video has been recorded, copies made and stored on a secure server and our cloud.” Jennifer reached out and placed a data chip on the table next to Markeson’s plate. Jennifer’s pleasant expression vanished, replaced by a hard, cold look that startled Markeson, sending a chill down his chest to his stomach. “I would prefer you not watch it,” Jennifer said with a commanding coolness to her voice. “There is a copy of everything we have since you introduced the Governor to that skank. One more rendezvous and we’ll have all that is necessary to put a leash on the Governor.”
Jennifer stood and walked away towards the home office Markeson used to engage in most of his clandestine business affairs. Jennifer neither looked back nor wiggled her bottom for Markeson’s benefit.
A fact that did not escape him.
"MOVE," BROKEN NOSE barked. Bert had opened the door to a random vehicle parked on the street and hotwired it. Broken Nose yanked open the rear passenger door and shoved Katrina into the hovercar. Slamming the door behind him, the thug made it a point to jam the business end of his small projectile weapon into Katrina's ribs.
“I have a pulse weapon as well,” he whispered, his breath hot on the flesh of Katrina’s ear. “It burns flesh away,” he told her. “Smells something horrible, but it cauterizes as it burns. You won’t die quick.” The goon sat up and leaned against the door, resting his head on the window.
“Don’t forget that,” he mumbled.
Bert’s voice boomed from the front, breaking the spell descending on Broken Nose. “Give me the coordinates of the new safe house. I’m not driving around in a hot car not knowing who is after us one minute longer than I have to.”
The centrifugal force from the speed at which Bert took the first corner slammed Katrina into the passenger door on the left rear side and tossed Broken Nose up against Katrina. A low chuckle from the goon made Katrina's stomach revolt. Her skin felt as if it was on fire where his hand had slipped up her dress. He squeezed her thigh and rubbed his hand up and down on the flesh of her leg before sitting up, taking his hand off Katrina's leg.
"What's the matter, little lady? Never had a real man touch you before?"
Amused by his comment, the narcissistic sociopath stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned comfortably back against the seat. “Be a little more careful with how you corner, Bert. Our guest here didn’t appreciate having a fine specimen of manhood like myself being dumped in her lap by accident.”
Bert said nothing, seemingly paying attention to driving. Katrina trained her gaze on the rearview mirror. She saw the hard look in Bert’s eyes as he stared at his letch of a partner
in disgust.
“Give me the coordinates.”
Broken Nose feigned disgust and irritation with Bert. “Okay, okay. Always in a hurry, aren’t you Bert?” A few taps on his comm produced the necessary information. One more tap sent the coordinates to Bert’s comm.
“Happy now?”
Bert said nothing in response, ignoring Broken Nose. Katrina watched as the kidnapper entered the coordinates into the hovercar’s GPS and shifted in the driver’s seat to get more comfortable.
“We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
Watching the buildings flash by, Katrina noticed her hands were shaking, and the butterflies in her stomach were all in flight. It wasn't a good sign that her two captors didn't care if she saw where they were taking her.
FOLLOWING THE SOUNDS of gunfire and the yelling and screaming that accompanied it, Sarah had shifted her cellular frequency making herself difficult to see in the shadows of the rooftop from which she watched the rear of the building. The sound of a turbo racing caught her attention and Sarah watched a hovervan speed down the alleyway and stop at the back door of the building. It took but a few seconds for the door to burst open, and three men rushed out, pulse weapons in hand. The first hooligan yanked the side door to the van open and climbed in followed by a second man. The last of the three men held the door open and scanned the alleyway back and forth.
Three more men appeared, one of whom was clearly the boss who climbed into the van first, followed by what seemed to be his bodyguards. Before the man holding the warehouse door open could clamber in someone from inside the van hurriedly pulled the door of the van shut as the driver accelerated away. Sarah managed to catch a glimpse of the last three number of the van's plate as she slipped over the roof's retaining wall.
Using the drain pipe running down the wall of the building, Sarah descended to a point three meters above the pavement of the alleyway. Standing directly below the abandoned thug shouted in desperate fury at the van. He never saw Sarah drop from above.