by A. J. Mayall
“Do you ever shut up?!” he yelled.
“Thought you wanted me to talk. Be very careful what you wish for.”
“One of us is going to get a lesson in behaving when they are being threatened.”
“For once,” she said, pain shooting over her left side, “we are in complete accord.”
Sam Maxwell loped, injured, down the road. He had to get back to the truck stop; he needed a phone and time to let the wolfsbane work out of his system so he could shift and heal. All he knew was everything was pain to him, and he was still a good distance from the stop.
As if on cue, he heard a rumble behind him. He smiled as he saw the flashing lights of a patrol car. Still in his uniform, he knew the blue shield had come through one last time to help him. He waved with both arms over his head, flagging down the car.
As it pulled up, he huffed out, “Thank fuck.”
The officer inside was a nebbish-looking man in his twenties, a rookie no doubt sent to find the location of the missing incoming prisoner.
“You okay, Officer? I saw the wreck a while back. What happened?”
“No time to explain, kid; get out of the car, radio to get a pickup, I gotta get back to Rouge Mal.” Maxwell growled, the rookie timidly looking at his radio.
“I can’t just give you the car, but hop in, we’ll call for backup.”
Maxwell growled and looked to the young officer. The young man’s nametag read “Duong”.
He said, “At least help me with this leg?”
Officer Duong nodded, unlocking the door and stepping out for a moment before Maxwell turned and kicked it hard, slamming into his ankles and left knee.
“I’m sorry, I really am,” he muttered, knocking Duong out and throwing his radio as hard as he could into the desert. He relieved the Duong of his badge, sidearm, and the keys to the vehicle. Sam hefted him over his shoulder with all the strength he could muster and rolled him off the edge of the road. The lycanthrope ran back to the car, revved the engine, flashed the lights, and sped down the highway.
As traffic gave way to him, he checked his watch. With no obstructions, he could make it back to Rouge Mal in forty minutes. Luckily, the cop was like him, and left his cell phone on a charging cable. After taking a moment to remember, and a few misdials, he called out to MacKenzie.
When the phone picked up, there was a loud groaning sound, followed by a wet smack that sounded like a steak being slapped against a cutting board. He chuckled, recognizing the telltale sound of Frenzy MacKenzie getting a confession.
“Who’s this? Don’t recognize the number.”
In the distance, there was the sound of a woman crying out for assistance, followed by another thud, and a wince.
“It’s Maxwell, you at the safe house?”
“Yeah, doing a bit of side work for Jack; his girlfriend, believe it or not.”
“Didn’t think the little shit had it in him.”
“She ain’t talking though. Jack’s out right now, what’s going on?”
“Basseri is dead, we got set up.”
“What?!”
“He’s dead. Fucking guys in suits and that AGI bitch jumped us. They blew up the transport car, knocked me out. When I came to, I saw his body still in the front seat, fucking fire coming out the eye sockets. AGI is doing something, and I don’t know what.”
“I thought they were helping out the cops, not blowing us up.”
“I’m coming to the safe house, be ready.”
“Well, if you wanna help get info out of this bitch…”
“Meet you in thirty, maybe forty minutes.”
As the few cars on the road pulled to the shoulder to let the police car pass, Sam Maxwell knew things were about to come to an end with this nightmare.
CHAPTER 24
Phoenix watched the video once more, the sugar rush from having “borrowed” Bouncer’s soda wearing off. He, of course, made sure Bouncer was amenable to it.
He was missing something, something hiding in plain sight. He’d taken everything from the scene after he was done. All the HandyEyes were accounted for; he had the raw footage; even the HubKits they never…
Phoenix went pale. The HubKits. Margaret had been more upset over the fact her work fliptop had been tapped. He forgot he had access to her systems. In the whirlwind of catching them on tape, they never looked at the information they had gathered.
“Gypsy!” he screamed, focusing on sending out a call to his predecessor. “I need you!”
He tucked the raccoon under his arm and ran upstairs to his loft. She appeared on the other side of the door as he swung it open, it flowing through her image, followed by the detective himself.
“What’s up, Phoenix? Hi, Bouncer,” she said as he set the toy on the bed. He smiled as she addressed the stuffed toy.
“How good are you at accessing information on computers?”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t a thing in my time, but patterns are patterns. You know I can’t really interact with the physical world.”
“I need to figure out which of these FogDrives has the data from the Benton investigation.”
“Oh, fiddle! You’re in that out of sync period, aren’t you?”
He glared at her. “What do you know?”
“I can’t tell you, Phoenix, as much as I want to.”
“I’ll play stupid. Tell me.”
“Phoenix, this is not me being playful and coy. This is me saving your sorry ass from a paradox. We fix that and it could disrupt everything that’s happened.”
Phoenix looked down at the pile of portable data servers. He turned to the raccoon on the bed and asked, “Trust her?”
Once more, the stuffed animal looked off in the distance.
“Yeah, me too,” he muttered. “Did I know when to expect you?”
Gypsy paused. “If I remember correctly, you did seem to be ready for me. Okay, have you contacted Suzette yet?”
“No, should I?”
“Not saying.”
“Okay…”
“I know I talked to you about it shortly after you brought her back here.”
Phoenix sighed and nodded. “You know where she is?”
“Yes, but I can’t tell you. Much as it kills me. Please forgive me,” she said, looking out the window across the street to the street below. “I forgot how nice it was here. Now, that is.”
“You telling me it’s not nice in the future?”
“I’m telling you people and places change. It’s a part of how things are. Especially for us. Now I’ll help you scan your…FogDrives, right? I keep forgetting what you fellas call things.”
He lined up the drives on the floor in front of his bed.
“You learned how to pull patterns out of things yet?” she asked, reaching and putting her ethereal hand on his shoulder.
“No.”
“No time like the present, kid. Now focus and do what I say.”
Suzette grunted; the pain didn’t let up, but neither did her attitude. She dug down deeper with every strike. She cursed that MacKenzie was a werewolf; his heightened regeneration meant he wouldn’t get tired any time soon. She would have to do something soon, but she wanted to hold off as long as possible.
“So, you mind telling me whatever it is he’s asking me to get out of you? This can be over any time you want, lady.”
“I know, but I’m really enjoying your company; best date in months, really,” she retorted, getting the back of his hand as a response. She smiled as her nose bled.
“I don’t want any fucking backtalk! I’ll put some fear on you.”
“You need to choose better victims. Fuck fear. Fuck your information. Most of all, fuck you,” she said defiantly. She wasn’t sure how long it’d been since he had gotten that damn call. The cry for help had been embarrassing, but if it got her out faster, it was worth the effort. At least she’d made MacKenzie feel he was doing a good job. Her body ached, numbed from the battering. He’d made a point to not strike her
face though, not until the backhand. It stung. It was one of the few areas left unblemished from the day’s events.
A siren wailed outside, and Suzette knew it was not a rescue. MacKenzie stepped away, ready to attack whoever came through if they meant to disrupt his fun. She looked at her purse on the work station, keeping an eye on it when MacKenzie had his attention directed elsewhere.
The door swung open; a bedraggled and exhausted Sam Maxwell stumbled in, rubbing his temples, growling as he looked at her. She noted how pale he looked, odd considering it was impossible not to have a tan living in Rouge Mal. He fumbled with his pockets and she chuckled. She’d seen the symptoms before.
“Someone looks like they’ve been hit with wolfsbane,” she mocked in a sing-song voice, her words harried and rough from the abuse. “Someone can’t shift, someone can’t heal…”
“She still has a mouth on her, doesn’t she?” Maxwell snapped at MacKenzie, shoving him aside. Suzette looked to the door as Jack walked in, looking at his phone as he did so. Suzette shook her head slightly as he looked up from the message he had obviously received from Maxwell.
Sam had walked calmly to her, but his gaze was furious. He saw in her eyes a dread, a deep-rooted fear of something terrible about to happen. He growled at MacKenzie to take notes, that he was going to show him how to interrogate someone the proper way.
“I don’t need those things to make you talk. AGI is involved, ain’t they? Those fuckers just killed Basseri, burned him alive in front of me and left me there in the middle of the desert.”
“The Bastard got what he deserved,” she said as her focus went behind him.
It was a common enough reaction in people who knew the end would be near. It didn’t stop him from slapping her across the face as hard as he could.
“Shut up! He was a friend, and I just saw fire coming from his fucking skull, so you do your best to remember I’m not in any mood for your bullshit. Tell me what you know.”
“You don’t want me to do that,” she muttered under her breath. MacKenzie fidgeted behind him, trying to get his attention. He quickly yelled out the corner of his mouth for him to shut up.
“How’d they set him up? Why?”
“No clue,” she answered and refocused her gaze, looking him straight in the eye.
“Tell me what you do know.”
“I’m telling you you don’t want me to tell you. Just…trust me,” she said through hissing breath. “Ask me again, and I swear to all that’s holy, I will though.”
He stood up straight, smirking, “Then I’m asking, what do you know?”
She paused and her gaze unfocused again. “You have an insider working against you.”
He scoffed, and then laughed. “Bitch, you don’t know how packs work. I know my men better than they know themselves. Who the hell is the insider?”
She closed her eyes and turned her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. It’s Jack.”
Maxwell laughed until the moment he felt the gun press to the back of his head. He never had time to turn and see Jack’s face, sorrowful for the act, as he pulled the trigger. One moment, there was life and consciousness; a flash and a bang ended both. Maxwell fell to his knees and then collapsed on his stomach. A moment of stillness passed before the muscles jerked involuntarily.
Suzette looked up, spattered in blood, hissing to Jack, “You didn’t have to kill him.”
“What do you mean? He hijacked a criminal being transported to jail, drove him into the desert, acted as executioner, only to come back to try and kill you. That’s what we’ll be saying, isn’t that right, MacKenzie?” Jack said as he turned to the smaller lycanthrope, turning the gun to face him. “I assure you the rest in the chamber are silver rounds.”
MacKenzie froze, looking to Suzette and then to Jack, nodding to his new Beta. “Understood, sir,” he said, backing away slowly.
Jack jerked his head toward the door. “I’m leaving for a few. It seems I’ve got to clean up this mess. They’ll track that fucking car, so I’m going to get rid of it. When I get back, we’ll clean up the mess on the floor.”
MacKenzie nodded fast, looking to Suzette and then back to Jack. “What about her? Want me to keep interrogating her?”
Jack shrugged. “Doesn’t matter at this point. Sam forced me to speed up, and clean up more than I was expecting. If she gives you trouble though, everyone else is out front playing poker; call for them.”
MacKenzie grunted and looked down at his feet. “What’s this about AGI?”
Jack paused and brought the gun up to MacKenzie’s gaze. “Smart man like you knows when it’s not safe to solve certain puzzles.”
Stuart MacKenzie shuddered and nodded. He was terrified by the prospect of the silver bullets, but as Jack left and closed the door, he instinctively followed, to make sure the danger was going away. He heard the jingle of Suzette slowly tugging on the chains that bound her. He paused and peeked out the small window, taking about half a minute to make sure Jack drove off.
What he didn’t expect to see was Suzette standing behind him when he turned around, fist reared back for a punch. When it connected with his face, the burning that came with the crack of his jaw sent him reeling.
Phoenix sat in his room, looking in awe as he summoned constructs of information before him, like holographic screens that responded not just to his gesture, but to his thoughts and whims.
“You trying to tell me I’ve been able to do this the whole time?” he muttered out the corner of his mouth.
“Pretty much,” Gypsy said as she showed him a few gestures to gather up the patterns of data from the drives and put them into the screens, to visualize them in their complexity and splendor. He flipped through the data, letting his subconscious filter it, pushing out a hand as he knocked clear unneeded data. It wasn’t unlike how he visualized it when he picked locks. It was like having ghost images flash in front of him, and he had a lot of information to filter through.
For five minutes, he sat in a meditative state, Gypsy crouched behind him, hands resting on his shoulders, letting him use her as grounding. The extraneous and trash information that had no bearing on the current event flowed through her, vanishing back into the servers they had been pulled from.
“Concentrate, Phoenix. You’ve got this, but you need to stay focused.”
“Doing the best I can,” he said as a few of the side panels flickered in and out, his attention being split in four directions. He focused harder, recordings of sound and sight interlacing with his own senses, making his head spin as he focused on Margaret Benton…Margaret Benton…Margaret Benton…
He stood abruptly, a screen made of blue and white light to his left flickered and vanished. He pulled the data from it and two others, collapsing them into the screen before him.
“Oh my God,” Phoenix muttered.
There it was…it had been here the whole time. Three projects, united under a single cause.
He spread his hands apart and pushed them forward, expanding the information in three directions as the blueprints took form in the room. He walked through the images, a hint of static blur and arcing light from from of those novelty plasma balls flickered along his sides as he walked through it.
“Biosensor technology designed to alter a house based on the needs of its occupants…” He walked to another area, “Compact living quarters, designed to minimize space while maximizing amenities.” He strode further on. “Security protocols for a new anti-infiltration software.” He watched as the three seemingly harmless, and in fact, beneficent concepts were integrated, a fourth note being added. “Military grade detention cell, designed to assist in demoralizing aggressive enemy combatants and prisoners, both domestic and overseas.” He stared at the data, shaking his head. He knew Gemini said that Basseri had stolen some big things from them, but this was…what had the Bastard done?
He shuddered at the implications. Even if what he encountered was a modified version, what sat before him flew in the fac
e of every known law on the treatment of incarcerated people. It was a machine built to break people.
As he stepped away he saw a letter attached and brought it up, expanding it so he and Gypsy could read. As he did so, he saw Gypsy lose her composure for a few moments.
Dear Mrs. Benton,
As you are aware, we are going forward with our latest projects. It is my belief that in making sure the components of the machine before you work, we can proceed to patent them. From there, we can move on to the military contracts we have discussed in previous electronic communiqués.
As you are also aware, and as always, we have a secondary objective to this operation, one that will affect and improve our recent forays into improving the crime rate in this city. Your former lover and friend Samuel Maxwell has been revealed to us as an operative for the criminal known as Dominic Basseri. Basseri cannot be permitted to coexist in the same digital space as this project.
We plan to solve this issue, posthaste. If I were you, I would settle all emotional attachments to Mr. Maxwell before we move forward. We cannot do this without some of the best Prescott Electronics has to offer. It is why we bought out your parent company, Oracle Optics.
While business of this nature is normally not performed by my side of the company, the opportunity to improve the lives of so many through the project’s secondary goals justifies the means. The base components of this technology, once tested, patented, and distributed will be of benefit to all.
Please note any leak of this information will result in immediate, shall we say, relocation of human resources?
Sincerely,
Reginald Gemini
Phoenix saw red. The whole time, the whole damn time. He even worked with the man; he had considered him a budding friend.
“I’m going to his damn office right now and I’m gonna rip his fool head off,” he hissed, energy crackling.
“No. No, you are not,” Gypsy snapped. “You have more pressing matters.” she said, stepping through him and waved her hands, closing the data and filtering it back into the appropriate FogDrive. “Right now, you have to help your own.”