Subject 12

by S. W. Douglas

  Due to the nature of the injury, claimed to be caused by a brainsucker (though medical records that could confirm or deny have been impossible to obtain), all facts gained directly from the subject have to be accepted cautiously. As such, due to the lack of corroboration from other sources, any information on Alpha Zulu or Kinsey --- including their very existence --- is highly suspect. Unless further evidence comes to light, no further investigation of either Alpha Zulu or this Kinsey individual is warranted. As such, subject Redgrave is also no longer a person of interest to this agency, though his file is being kept active just in case it's needed.

  Chapter 5

  I came to my senses less quickly than whoever was waking me up would have liked, but if they'd known how lucky they were to pull me out of my slumber at all...

  "Wuzza?" I said, my tongue feeling thicker than day-old oatmeal.

  "We have a hit," Mary said, still shaking me gently. I was fairly groggy but I managed to make sense of her words this time, if not the context. "I thought you'd want to see."

  I fought my way through the fuzzy feelings and forced some saliva into my very dry mouth. "Say wha?"

  She frowned faintly but stopped shaking me. "A hit. The camera at the mall picked up four of the guys we sent in pictures of last night."

  I was too tired to make any sense of that and I said so. "Huh?"

  "Just get off your chunk and come with me. Sir." She tugged at my arm and I found myself getting to my feet even though she didn't have a chance in hell of moving me with those skinny little arms of hers.

  "Alright." I kept myself from stumbling as I tried to wake up. I really hadn't had enough sleep and I could feel it.

  She lead me into what they called the communications room which, in reality, was nothing more than a closet with some pretensions of grandeur. I had no idea why, in the day of cell phones, fax machines, e-mail, instant messaging, Guildphones, and good old-fashioned land lines, they felt the need to have a separate room, but they did.

  I quickly found out I had been completely mistaken. The communications room was a fancy name for an unmanned surveillance rig. It was a few years old but it was well-maintained and had been upgraded recently. It was a Rogers setup; quite powerful but somewhat limited in scope, and it was being pushed to the limit --- I saw flashes of more than a dozen alternating sources being fed into the video screen. It wasn't as effective as, say, a dual Fedline array, but it also didn't cost anywhere near as much and required less down-time for maintenance. On the other hand, if all they were monitoring were at most twenty video streams they were probably running the better setup, especially if they couldn't pay a full-time operator.

  It also didn't require a full air-handling system to keep the heat level down.

  "What time is it?" I asked. "Did I miss breakfast?"

  Mary cursed under her breath. "I worked four hours of overtime for this?" She tapped the man who had been patiently waiting next to the recorder sub-array and gestured towards the video screen. "Play it, Hank."

  He drummed a few keys and suddenly the screen blanked. A low hum from the recorder system quickly disappeared and I found myself looking at a milling group of people. Within ten seconds a face was marked with a red diamond, a line grew from the diamond to the right upper corner of the screen and an enhanced image of the face appeared in a red-outlined box. Next to it another image appeared; one of the unmasked men from the Canton assault. I compared the two pictures and came to the conclusion that if it wasn't him he had a twin.

  Before another forty-five seconds had elapsed another three faces had joined the first. The accuracy was almost scary to me.

  "We ran the comparisons five times. Every time it came back positive and with these results." Mary sounded a little excited. "I think the new camera we installed there may have something to do with it."

  "I'd like to see what they're doing," I said quietly. The magnitude of what I was seeing had started to sink in. "Can you zoom in?"

  Mary looked at the other tech and he shrugged.

  "I don't think this system can do that," he said.

  "It can if the video stream is good enough," I replied. "One of the reasons the Rogers systems are still useful is that while they normally work with multiple low-resolution streams they can work with individual high-resolution streams to the limit of the onboard processing bandwidth if they're not doing anything else." I watched the video loop of the four faces being recognized again. "I'm surprised it found these faces, actually. That image is pretty small on the individual face level."

  "I patched in a Penelope-Twelve image processing unit last month when I was told the stream from the mall was going to a high-definition feed. I managed to shoehorn the bitch in without pulling the audio filter card out, if you can believe it." The male tech grinned. "Thank Allah that the Syracuse Guildhall was done with the card and had sent it up for me to use. They just replaced their Rogers unit with a brand new Hikao-Eight."

  A Penny-Twelve image processing unit would certainly explain the fine resolution, but it was only good for one high-definition video stream. I said as much.

  "Well, I hardwired the new card directly to the mall feed once they were done upgrading it. I figured if we weren't replacing the other cameras I didn't need to do anything else. Besides, it also freed up about twelve percent of the Rogers' CPU cycles. The mall was on a high-priority thread."

  "Makes sense. Um, if you don't mind my asking, what mall are we talking about, anyway?"

  "The one across town," Mary said, putting her hand up to silence the other tech. "I was surprised they were there but I didn't want to put out a general alert until I heard from you."

  I nodded. Good thinking. "Zoom in and tell me what they're doing," I said.

  "All I could tell they were doing was waving some weird equipment around." Mary shrugged. "I have no frigging clue what they wanted to accomplish, but that's what it looked like they were doing."

  Something in my brain grabbed some other part of my brain and kicked it until it woke up. "Show me," I said, snapping fully awake as adrenaline started to pump into my system. "If you can show me a close-up of the equipment that would be great."

  The male tech grabbed a folder sitting on top of a box and flipped though it for a few seconds before finding the right page. He traced down the side of it with his index finger to find what he wanted, skimmed the passage quickly, then tossed it back on the box and grabbed the keyboard again. He fiddled with the small, built-in joystick and trackball for about a minute, going from frame to frame, trying to get a better view of the equipment, but he couldn't find anything that looked any better than that afforded by every other frame. The camera angle just wasn't right, but I got a good idea of what they were doing, if not with what.

  They were trying to track something. Most likely it was me. They followed my path from the door I'd entered by to the food court where they must have lost the scent.

  Goddamn it.

  "Do you have any idea what they're doing?" Mary came up behind me and stood on her tiptoes to look over my shoulder. "It kinda looks like they're following something, but why do they stop right there?"

  "They lost the scent," I said absently. "Or whatever it is they're following." I paused for a minute as the loop played one more time. It ended, as it always did, as they walked deeper into the mall, still waving their instruments. "How long ago was this taken?"

  "About an hour, hour and a half, tops. They haven't left yet or the computer would have flagged them." The male tech fiddled with a few more controls. "Not that they couldn't have left by way of another store, but most people who come in that door tend to leave by that door."

  "I was wondering where everyone got to." Redgrave's voice caught me by surprise. "I figured I'd offer you some more cocoa since you liked it so much this morning, Mary."

  "Thanks, Elijah." She turned around and I heard her feet moving. I didn't want to take my eyes off the screen even though I'd watched the loop about ten times by then. Then it dawn
ed on me that she'd said Elijah and not Jack. What the hell?

  "Elijah? Not Jack?" I turned around and looked at Redgrave. "Since when?"

  His smile faded some when he saw me. "Since I was born. I thought the name made me sound like a wuss, so I picked Jack when I got my first job for the CIA. Now that I'm not in the trade I went back to my given name."

  I shook my head. Figures.

  "Why's Sergeant Binder on the screen there?" He leaned to the left to try to see past my shoulder.

  "Sergeant Binder?" The three of us asked in unison.

  "Yeah, he's an Alpha Zulu grunt. I had to get some papers signed last week and he escorted me to the admin section of the Syracuse enclave."

  I stared at him for a quick beat before my brain could reengage. "You saw that man in the Alpha Zulu enclave in Syracuse last week?"

  "Yep." He took a sip of his mug. For the first time I could smell the chocolate. "Kind of a dick, but most guys working for Kinsey are." He winked at me.

  Just hearing the name jogged something and I dug my Guildphone out of the bathrobe pocket. I flipped it open and worked my way through the menu system that Mary had demonstrated to me at some point after the pictures had been sent out. Sure enough, the image of Kinsey's face stared back at me after a few seconds.

  "Was he there?" I held the phone up so Redgrave could see it.

  "Yeah. Kinsey was talking up something with the enclave's commander. I didn't hear what and I didn't care. I just needed someone there to agree that my injury had been an accident, but one connected with my duties at the time, and that I should be declared fully disabled." He looked sad for a moment. "I hated doing it, but it was the only way I could get into a rehab program my doc told me I needed."

  I bit back my frustration. "Thank you, Jack."

  He smiled again. "You're welcome. The people here have been really nice, so I've actually had a pretty good time since I got here. When will they let me go home, do you know?"

  "Soon, I promise." I looked at Mary. She nodded and gently started to lead him out. "I'll talk to you when I get back, Jack. You've been a big help."

  Mary lead him out of the room, talking to him like a precocious but still-young child. He babbled back, seemingly quite happy.

  Happy. Good for him. The run-in with the brainsucker had cost him, and cost him dearly, but at least now he could be happy. Says something, doesn't it?

  "Are there any other camera feeds that might show the guys from this one?" I turned to face the male tech. "And what's your name?"

  "They call me Hank. That isn't my given name but I answer to it," he replied, giving me the heart-chin-forehead bow I had seen before. I returned it in kind. "And no, there aren't any more. Others have suggested them but we just don't have the resources to put them in or monitor them properly."

  "Thank you." I nodded to Mary as she returned. "I need to hit the bathroom, so keep an eye on the feed. This is your number one priority, understand? I want you backing the computer up until you hear otherwise. If you see any of them, tell me immediately."

  "Yes, sir," he said as if he'd been expecting it.

  "Mary?" I motioned for her to step outside then followed her. I didn't see anyone in the immediate area so I closed the door behind me. "Is everything cool with Redgrave?"

  "Yes," she said, looking slightly confused. "He seems to be enjoying his time here, actually. I don't think he's really all that comfortable being around a lot of people anymore." She shrugged. "Why so concerned? I was told you put him in protective custody."

  "I just wanted to make sure he was alright. You know, so he wouldn't try to make a break for it or something." I shook my head again. "In any case, you should go home and get some sleep."

  "Yeah, probably. My girlfriend is probably wondering where I am." She looked around for a couple seconds before leaning in closer. "Don't you dare tell anyone what happened between us." Her nostrils flared and she looked like she got a whiff of something. "If you do I will scream rape to the rafters."

  I could sense she was uncomfortable about something and it wasn't her reputation. "Why?"

  She flushed slightly. "I don't want anyone to know. If word gets out that I almost had sex with you, for whatever the reason we were in that position, I'll have half the guys in this building crawling up my ass for the next ten years. I like my job, I like where I work, and I like feeling like I make a difference in the world. I don't want to screw that up."

  "I understand." And I did, too. Even in organizations where fraternization was allowed it usually wasn't encouraged.

  "I mean, you're a Guild Investigator, I'm a lowly technician... Someone might say I was bucking for a promotion or something."

  "Mary, I understand."

  "I mean, sure, it was fun. But, you know---"

  "Mary," I interrupted, putting my hand on her shoulder. "It's fine. I understand."

  "Thank you," she said, putting her hand on the one gripping her shoulder. "For what it's worth, I enjoyed what happened. Maybe a little too much, but I enjoyed it."

  I smiled. "So did I."

  She smiled in return. "Maybe I'll see you when I get back?"

  I nodded. "Maybe."

  Hey, it could happen.

  Mary had left by the time I got back from the bathroom. I really had had to pee. I also wanted to get something on other than a frigging bathrobe before I did anything else. To be totally frank, I was sick of my balls flapping in the breeze.

  Unfortunately I was in a tough place. The staff wanted to help but none of them had anything they could give me and the Guild members were either on assignment, asleep, or of the wrong gender. I might have considered wearing a kilt, if I were in Scotland or Ireland and the situation required it, but I wasn't going to wear a knee-length pleated skirt and striped leggings. I got an invitation to do just that from one of the gals, but I didn't like the look of the leather bodice she was sporting as casual wear.

  Eventually I gave up and raided Firebug's room. I couldn't fit in the hand-tailored silk suits, but I found a pair of slacks and a flannel shirt that fit me passably well, a package of undershirts that were a size too large but worked fine after I tucked them into my pants, and some deodorant that was the brand I used to prefer that hadn't been opened. I splashed some very exclusive (and expensive) aftershave on my face after I'd gotten dressed and looked around. Obviously he hadn't spared any coin on his own luxury, if you could call a dormitory-style room luxurious. Still, there were plenty of small touches: The down comforter, even though it meant he had to have an air conditioner in his window in addition to the central HVAC system keeping the building a comfortable temperature year-round: The folded-down satin sheets that shimmered in the overhead fluorescent lighting: The Persian rug underfoot: The designer fragrances and toiletries cluttering the dresser's top.

  I left the room and locked the door behind me. It was a petty gesture, but it made me feel better all the same.

  I tracked Redgrave down in the common room playing a game on one of the consoles with a guitar-shaped controller. I waited till the song he was trying to finish was over before I addressed him.

  I asked him about the enclave in Syracuse, got some rough directions to it, and made absolutely sure that he had been there recently enough that he'd recognize someone who might have just transferred in --- not that I'd had any real doubts. The troops who had raided the Canton Guildhall were imports, locals, or mercenaries. The odds against anything but a group of locals hitting Canton and then showing up the next morning at the mall, waving around equipment and so obviously following my trail in the food court, were so astronomical I doubted even bookies in Vegas would take bets on it.

  I checked in quickly at the Communications Room, thanked Hank for his time, and hit the parking lot at a dead run. I was in the air and at the mall as fast as I could get myself there without drawing any attention to myself, bringing myself down in a loading bay just to the side of the building. I didn't want to be seen and I wanted a few seconds to elapse before
I stepped inside to let the residue fade. The detectors had picked me up before, so I wanted to make sure they wouldn't get me this time.

  Of course, I had no way to tell if I was below their detection limit or not, but I had to try. To do anything else would let this opportunity fade, and that wasn't something I could allow.

  There was a fairly stiff breeze that washed over me as I stepped out of the loading bay, hopefully blowing away whatever was left of the residue. I was smiling as I approached the door, though I kept my head down in case a camera was part of the detector package. I pushed my way in the doors at the same time I heard tires squealing behind me. I turned around to see a black SUV with privacy-tinted windows peal out, leaving black streaks as it tore out of the parking lot as fast as the driver could force it. The fact that it was the same make, model, and year as the ones I'd run into back in Philadelphia wasn't lost on me.

  Cursing under my breath, I pulled my Guildphone out of my pocket and dialed the number for the Watertown Guildhall. It took me two minutes to get Hank on the phone, but when he told me he wasn't in the Communications room I stopped cursing under my breath and let him have an ear-full. By the time he'd checked the recording and confirmed that yes, the men we'd been watching had left at a dead run about the time I had arrived, I was beyond swearing. I took to the air, not giving a shit who saw me or if the detector went off again, and tried to find the vehicle in question.

  Trying to pick out a large, black SUV on a major highway was pointless. I found this out after about the fifth new curse word I'd invented. Well, the fourth, actually. The third one I'd used was just a variation on the word "shuttlecock" which merely sounds dirty.