by Jake Bible
“SIR, YES SIR!”
***
Mr. Stone let the water run over him, his forehead pressed against the slick tile.
“Agent Stone?” a voice called.
Stone refused to respond.
“Agent Stone? Are you in here?”
What kind of fucking question is that? he thought. Every holocam in this fucking shower is watching me right now.
“Agent Stone, if you are in here please respond,” the voice said, louder, closer that time.
Mr. Stone sighed, reached out and shut the water off. “What?”
A young man stepped to the shower room door and peered through the steam. “I’ve been instructed to escort you to conference room thirteen. You have a new assignment and will be briefed in five minutes.”
“Can I fucking put a towel on?” Stone growled, pushing past the man and stepping to his locker.
“Well, of course,” the young man stammered. “I mean, you have time to get dressed.”
Stone fixed a cold gaze on the man. “I thought you said I had five minutes. Which is it? Time to get dressed or five minutes? You should be exact when giving a time frame.”
The young man blinked repeatedly, obviously confused. Mr. Stone waved him off.
“Never mind,” he said. “Tell them I’ll be right there.”
“But, sir, I was instructed—”
“—to escort me. Yeah, I heard you. I don’t need an escort. I know where conference room thirteen is.”
The young man began to protest, but before he could get a word out Mr. Stone was in his face, his left hand clamped on the man’s crotch.
“You want to keep these?” Stone snarled. “Or do you want to be known as Agent Eunuch?”
The young man swallowed, but didn’t answer. Stone let go of the man’s balls and pulled a pair of boxers from his locker, slipped them on and grabbed his uniform. “I’ll be right there.”
The young man nodded, turned and fled the locker room.
***
Reginald poured himself a glass of water from one of the many pitchers on the conference table before pulling up a chair. He glanced at the three men at the far end of the table. He didn’t know those men and didn’t want to. The man directly across from him, however, he did know.
“Thank you for joining us, Reginald,” Director Gein said. “Mr. Stone should be… Ah, here he is now. Hope it wasn’t a bother, Stone.”
“Fuck you, Gein, get to the point,” Mr. Stone said after taking a seat next to Reginald. “What’s the assignment?”
Director Gein smiled, despite Stone’s insubordination. “LOMSD holding center was breached.”
“Yep, heard about that,” Stone said.
“Right,” Gein continued. “Fifteen guards were brutally murdered. All holos have been analyzed, but they didn’t show us anything that the few survivors hadn’t already confirmed.”
“So, any idea who it was?”
“Not your concern, Agent,” one of the mystery men said, an older man with close cropped hair and dark brown eyes.
“What he means, Stone, is that the identity of the target is unimportant,” Gein said before Mr. Stone could respond. “Tracking this person down is all that matters.”
“Do I get to know if it’s a man or woman? Age? Description?”
A holo flickered to life in the center of the table and Heather Walton’s image floated before Stone’s face.
“Pretty,” he said flatly, keeping the fact that he recognized Heather to himself.
“You don’t have a problem apprehending a woman, do you Agent?” one of the other mystery men asked, this one much younger and with a continental accent that seemed all over the place to Stone’s ears.
“Is he fucking kidding me?” Mr. Stone asked Gein rhetorically.
“No, Mr. Stone doesn’t have a problem apprehending or neutralizing a woman,” Gein said, becoming irritated himself.
“No neutralization,” the third mystery man insisted. A man similar to Stone: plain in every way. “We need this target alive. Your job is capture only.”
Stone fixed his gaze on Director Gein. “Any idea where I start?”
Gein tossed a holo disc at Stone. The agent caught it easily.
“You can study that on your way to the American base. You’ll be going under the guise of investigating the Gramercy incident, but that is a smoke screen. You’re key objective is to find information on Ms. Walton,” Gein said as the conference room door opened. “Agent Turner here will be your driver and assistant. Along with Reginald, of course.”
Mr. Stone turned in his seat to see the young man that had been sent to retrieve him from the shower.
“He’ll be dead before sunrise,” Stone said. “Get me someone a little less green.”
Reginald snickered lightly.
Director Gein leaned forward. “Do you think this is all we are dealing with right now, Stone?” Gein said. “We are executing a shift of power the world hasn’t seen since the Brimstone wars, as you are well aware. All experienced agents are occupied at the moment. Agent Turner is the best you’re gonna get. If that won’t work, Stone, we can put you back on regular detail and then we’ll see where you stand when what is going to happen happens.”
“Fine,” Mr. Stone said, getting up from the table and walking past Turner, right out the door, Reginald directly behind him. “I’m not doing the paperwork when he eats BC.”
The men watched Agent Turner scramble after Stone, waiting to speak until the door was closed.
“Can he handle the mission?” Mr. Brown Eyes asked.
“Yes, of course,” Gein responded. “He is probably our best agent.”
“Well, your best was just beaten by two kids and a security guard,” Mr. Plain said. “Hardly inspires confidence.”
“As long as you’re telling me everything,” Director Gein said. “Then Stone will be fine.”
The three men remained silent.
“That is everything, right?” Gein insisted.
“You have been told all you need to know, Mr. Gein,” Mr. Continental said. “Thank you. You may leave.”
Gein stared into the hard faces of the three men, smiled and nodded. “Of course, sirs. I will keep you apprised of the situation as I gain more information.”
“We know you will,” Mr. Brown Eyes said. “Oh, and Director?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Try to stay off the holos if you can. It doesn’t reflect well on your status with us. We prefer to stay a little lower profile.”
“Considering what is about to happen, I am surprised low profile is in your vocabulary.”
“Yes, well, until then can you stay off the holos?”
Director Gein nodded again and left the conference room, activating his com as he went. “Get me stats now!” he barked. “I want progress reports on every single mission in play!”
Chapter Five
“Isn’t it going to be getting dark soon?” Beth asked as they passed the derelict flats and rundown buildings of Sin Circle. She watched three scabheads fighting over what looked like an arm, but she knew that couldn’t be right. “I’ve always been told never to be here after dark. That’s when people go missing.”
“Everyone in this fucking hellhole has gone missing,” Heather said from the back seat. “Sin Circle is where people go to get lost, to disappear and walk away from the lives they had before.”
“Fucking whatever,” Melissa growled.
“You got something to add, niece of mine?” Heather asked.
“Just that leaving those who love and depend on you isn’t disappearing,” Melissa almost snarled. “It’s fucking cowardice and every single last one of these scabheads, whores and pimps should be wiped off the face of the planet.”
“Hmmm,” Heather responded, but let it drop.
Beth looked at Melissa, then back at Heather, who just shrugged and rolled her eyes.
“Really,” Beth began. “I don’t think we should be here.”
Melissa glared at Beth. “What? Are you going to cry? I can’t even call you freak anymore without feeling sorry for you.”
“Then don’t call me freak,” Beth said quietly.
“See!” Melissa nearly shouted. “You’re breaking my fucking heart here! Get some motherfucking backbone, girl! Grow a pair below for fuck’s sake!”
“Let her be, Mel,” Heather said leaning forward and pointing towards a pub on their right before Melissa could respond. “Pull over. Pretty sure he’s in there.”
“Can I stay in the skiff?” Melissa asked obstinately.
“No, you can’t stay in the fucking skiff!” Heather snapped. “Now who’s being a pussy?”
Melissa grimaced, pulled the skiff over and whipped her door open. “Let’s get this over with then!”
“Is there something I should know?” Beth asked Heather as she got out.
Beth watched Heather take a quick scan of the street: couple of scabheads trying to turn tricks for a fix, three legitimate whores trying to run the scabheads off their corner and a lone grower standing by a small alley, his arms and head twitching, probably from a fresh batch of scabs coming in.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Heather responded to Beth as she hurried the girl inside the pub.
***
If the pub looked bad from the outside, it looked a million times worse on the inside.
“Would it be too much for the asshole to blow rich guys uptown?” Melissa said as she walked to the bar and took a seat.
“Hey!” the bartender shouted. “No minors!”
“Fuck you, scuzz!” Melissa shouted.
Heads turned from darkened corners and Heather clamped her hand down on Melissa’s shoulder. “Cool it, little girl or I’ll slap the smug right out of you.” She turned to the bartender and gave him a flirtatious smile. “Sorry. I’m her aunt. We’re just looking for someone.”
“You her aunt too?” the bartender sneered at Beth.
“Yep,” Heather answered sliding a credit chit across the bar. “And neither of them were ever here.”
The bartender snatched up the chit and slapped it on the scanner. When it beeped he smiled brightly, revealing a less than perfect set of teeth. “Nope, never seen them.”
Heather set another chit on the bar. “You know if Billy Brenton is here tonight?”
The bright smile fell off the bartender’s face immediately. “That cock sucking scabhead is here every night.” Heather raised her eyebrows and the bartender nodded towards the men’s room. She slid the second chit to the man and he snatched it up right away, not even bothering to scan its amount. “I don’t want no trouble. You need to rough him up, or worse, do it outside.”
“Don’t worry,” Heather grinned. “We’re family.” She looked at Melissa and Beth. “You two stay here.”
“Hey!” the bartender grunted. “I ain’t no babysitter!”
Melissa’s hand whipped out lightning fast and grabbed the man by the ear, yanking his head down to the bar. “Do I look like I need a fucking babysitter?!?”
Heather slapped her upside the head, making her let go. “Be nice!” Heather hissed.
“I’ll watch her,” Beth said making both Melissa and Heather chuckle.
“How about a pint for each, eh?” Heather said. “That should keep ‘em out of your hair.”
The bartender rubbed at his ear and poured two pints of bitter, slamming them down in front of the girls, nearly splashing ale all over Melissa.
“Just try to get along,” Heather sighed.
***
The stench hit her hard and Heather actually gasped from the lack of clean air. “You in here, Billy?” Heather announced as she walked into the men’s room. A slight scuffle and shift from the far stall told her where to go and no sooner had she started walking towards it than a man came bursting out, zipping his fly.
“Hey,” he stammered. “I don’t want any trouble.”
Heather nodded towards the door. “Then get the fuck out.”
The man smiled slightly and bolted. Heather waited for the other occupant of the stall to come out. “I know you’re in there, Billy. Get your scabby ass out here.”
“Um, hey Heather,” Billy Brenton said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he left the stall. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Heather snarled. “I don’t need your bullshit. We’ve got a serious situation going on, which I’m sure you aren’t aware of.”
“Rogue Americans and mystery Ghosts?” Billy asked, stepping to the sink and turning the tap on. Liquid barely recognizable as water flowed in spurts and sprays while Billy washed his hands then took a swig directly from the faucet, swishing then spitting it back in the basin. “I’m not that far gone.”
“Mystery Ghosts?” Heather asked.
Billy leaned back against the sink and activated a vapor stick, taking a long drag. “Or should I say, mystery Ghost?” he laughed. “Not so much a mystery since I’m looking at her right now.”
Heather glared.
“Okay, I know a guy that knows a guy at the Suffolk base. Your name came up and he came to see me.”
“Came to see you? I’m sure he did.”
***
Melissa and Beth watched the man hurry from the men’s room and then out the front door. Melissa just shook her head and took another sip of her ale. The grower Beth had seen outside stepped through the closing door and looked around.
The bartender gave him a weak smile and pretended to busy himself at the far end of the bar as the grower sat down next to Beth. “You girls lookin’ for some fun?” the grower asked, glancing nervously around the pub.
Beth looked up and nearly choked on her bitter. The man sitting next to her was covered from head to toe in rotting rags, what skin was exposed was marked by long, angry looking scabs.
“We’re fine, thank you,” Melissa grunted from the other side of Beth.
“Sure you are, sweetie, sure you are,” the man smiled, revealing a green-black, toothless mouth. “You’ll be more fine once you’ve fixed. What you looking for?” The man extended his right arm and pushed up the sleeve revealing long lines of fresh red scabs. “I got’s the classic, the big H on this arm.” He did the same with his left arm, shoving it under Beth’s nose. “But, you probably like the SensLo. Your generation is all about the party fun. It’s all true grown right on my body, none of that cheap, accelerated crap others get grafted on.”
“Buddy, you had better fuck off,” Melissa snarled.
“Come on, sweetie, we’re all friends in Sin Circle,” the man said, his smile faltering. He leaned his head to the right, exposing the patchwork of scabs on his neck. “Of course, if you really want to roll, maybe a taste of Slam will do ya right.” He peeled a pink orange scab from his neck and extended it to Melissa. “Maybe you two fine girls come back to my place and try it out? I can show you how to really rock the scabs.”
The grower grinned and tossed the peeled bit of dried flesh into his mouth, his whole body shuddering. Beth started to gag, the back of her hand going to her mouth. Melissa stood up and slammed her pint glass into the back of the grower’s head.
“I said fuck off!” she cried.
“Hey!” the bartender shouted. “That’s enough of that!” He pulled a pint and slid it to the grower. “Go fucking sit in the corner, Shift, and leave these girls alone!”
Shift the grower snatched up the pint and scurried off to the darkest corner in the pub.
Melissa sat down. “Give me another.” The bartender glared at her and Melissa slammed a chit on the pub. “Give us each another and more when we ask. And do me a favor. Point that ugly ass face of yours somewhere else!”
The bartender thought for a moment, but greed won out and he snatched up the chit, pulling two more pints.
***
“I spotted ‘em,” Shift whispered into his com from the corner of the pub. “Usual payment, same account. Don’t short me this time.”
&n
bsp; “Of course not,” Mr. Stone responded over the com. “You’ll have the chits in a second. Which one do you have?”
“They’re both here,” Shift said, looking over at Melissa and Beth. “Both the girls you’re looking for. And…”
“And what, Shift?” Mr. Stone growled over the com. “Don’t play with me or you’ll be singing soprano in you’re church choir.”
“I don’t go to church,” Shift answered.
“Just tell me what you know or I cut your fucking balls off!”
“Right. No need to get angry, Mr. Stone. I just want to make sure I’m compensated for the extra information.” Shift waited for a moment.
“Yes,” Mr. Stone finally answered. “You’ll be compensated.”
“Good. Good,” Shift grinned. “I think I got that Ghost that’s been all over the holos.”
“Is she there in front of you?” Mr. Stone asked. “Send me a holo.”
“No, Francis the bartender slipped me a note with my pint sayin’ she’s in the crapper rousting one of the cock gobblers that works the place,” Shift answered.
“Which cock gobbler?” Mr. Stone asked pointedly.
“Billy Brenton. Local scabhead. He’s in here all the time tryin’ to get chits for a fix.”
“Shift, I need you to listen closely,” Mr. Stone said, his voice low and slow. “I need you to make sure you keep those girls, that Ghost and the cock gobbling scabhead there. They cannot leave before I get there. Do you understand, Shift?”
Shift thought for a moment. He glanced at Melissa and realized she’d turned on her stool and had been watching him, for how long he couldn’t be certain. “Um, that may cost you extra.”
“Don’t worry about payment, Shift,” Mr. Stone said, a deadly smile in his voice. “You’ll be paid what you’re worth.”
***
“She’s out there right now?” Billy asked, his smug smile slipping. “You brought her here?”
“Where else are we going to go, Billy?” Heather snapped. “My cover is blown and she was attacked at school. I can’t take her to the base without all kinds of repercussions. Plus, I have this fucking girl that the LOMSD wants dead and I have no idea why! Trust me, I’d like to be somewhere else, but I need your skills to get us all out of the city until I can figure out what is going on.”