Sins of the Assassin

by Robert Ferrigno

  “Not lately.”

  “You should make time. I’ve…I’ve neglected my own studies too, for this…higher purpose.” Crews’s mouth twitched as though circled by worms. “Many are called but few are chosen…but they don’t tell you what you’re chosen for,” he snarled, his right hand sweeping aside a display of souvenir key chains. “Look at us. Called to the Church of the Mists, but left on the doorway…Locked out. Unfit. Unworthy.” He leaned forward. “Says who? We’ll show him, Rikki. You and I. Who dares stand against us?”

  Rakkim belched.

  Crews shook his head. “I like you.” He detached himself from the corner, eased closer, and Rakkim let him come. “This tale of the thirty pieces of silver, the ultimate blood money…lost and now found.” He cocked his head. “Is it really true? Or are you Judas himself, come to betray me? Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss. Is that who you are?”

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” said Rakkim. “Four days, Malcolm. Don’t be late.”

  “‘On a moonless night, I shall lead the army of darkness into battle,’” said Crews, taking a deep, theatrical bow, arms spread wide. “That’s Christopher Marlowe.”

  Rakkim shrugged. “Don’t know this Marlowe guy, but it’s the title of an old horror movie too. Army of Darkness. Woman I know is a real fan of that stuff.”

  “You’ll have to introduce me,” said Crews.

  “Not a fucking chance.”

  Crews glared at Rakkim.

  There was only the sound of crickets rising and falling, the same sad note over and over coming through the broken windows.

  “We…we should go,” said Leo.

  “Yes, you should,” said Crews, not taking his eyes off Rakkim.

  Rakkim led Leo out through the overturned display cases and soggy cardboard boxes, Leo lumbering along, keeping close, until the two of them were outside in the fresh air, the crickets even louder now, filling the night.

  “I hate that guy,” whispered Leo.

  “I’ve met worse.”

  “Where?” Leo didn’t expect an answer, wouldn’t have believed Rakkim anyway. He looked toward the car. “Do I meet the Colonel tonight?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Did Mr. Moseby really find the canister?”

  “It’s still at the bottom of the lake, but he’s seen it. He’ll bring it up when the time is right.”

  Leo tore cobwebs off his hair, swatted at bugs that may or may not have been there. “The sooner the better.”

  “It’ll be chaotic when Crews attacks the base camp—we’ll have plenty of opportunity to slip away with the weapon, once you tell me if it’s worth taking. I’ve picked at least eight potential escape routes—” The crickets stopped chirping and Rakkim grabbed Leo, hustled him into the car. Drove off at full acceleration, throwing up gravel from the tires as they shot down the road, lights off. Rakkim steered by starlight, as relieved as Leo to be away from the place, away from Crews.

  Leo waited in vain for the headlights to come on. “Can you really see in the dark?”

  “It’s not dark.”

  “That must be useful.” Leo cleared his throat. “FYI, we won’t need to take the weapon when we escape, I can already tell you that.”

  “I thought that was the whole idea. Take the weapon from the Colonel so he doesn’t destabilize the Belt or use it against the republic…maybe even turn it into a tool for reunification, show people in both countries that we can cooperate…What?”

  “That is the idea, it’s just that once I get my hands on…” Leo’s grin threatened to crack his face. “How big did Mr. Moseby say the canister was?”

  “He didn’t…not exactly. He said one man could carry it, that’s all.”

  “See, a canister that small, it can’t have a full-size weapons system in it. It’s got to be almost pure data—computer cores, thumb loads, maybe even hard copy. Whatever was state-of-the-art information storage back in the old days. Point is, it’s all data.” Leo happily chattered on now, unable to contain himself. “Information…data, that’s my business.”

  “We’ll still need the downloads and whatever—”

  “We won’t need a thing. When Crews’s army attacks, I’ll wipe the cores clean and we’ll get away, just like you said. What we leave behind will be useless, but it will look like we didn’t get anything either.” Leo grinned again. “But we’ll have everything. All of it.” He tapped the side of his head. “Right here.”

  “You have a photographic memory?”

  “Don’t insult me. Memory only works if you’ve actually seen the data, experienced it in some way. That would take months and we only have, what…a few hours? Memory…” Leo shook his head, giddy. “Oh, I’m way beyond that.”

  “Before we left”—Rakkim checked the rearview—“Sarah said you had been modified.”

  “I prefer the term maximized.” Leo held up his hands. “My fingernails are permeated with organic silicone, converting them into ion traps. Just a little genetic manipulation, plus some nanotechnology. It’s my dad’s design, although he didn’t do the work himself. He’s more of a theoretician…” He saw Rakkim’s expression. “It means I can access any data-storage system there is with a near-instantaneous transmission rate. By touch. And brainpower, of course. That’s the most important component. Without brainpower…You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

  “You’re some kind of biocomputer.”

  Leo shook his head. “You’re a biocomputer. I’m a quantum computer.” He wriggled his fingers. “With these, I don’t need to memorize what’s in the cylinder. I can download the whole thing while you’re singing ‘Onward Christian Soldiers.’”

  Rakkim drove for another mile before he said anything. “Have you ever done this before? Downloaded massive amounts of data with just…your fingertips?”

  “I’ve been tested.”

  “But you’ve never done it under field conditions?”

  Leo stared out the windshield into the darkness, pouting. “My maximization wasn’t completed until recently. I…I have total faith in myself.”

  Still no headlights in the rearview. “I do too, kid.”

  “Really?” Leo rocked happily in his seat. “Most people only use five percent of their brains. I’m what happens when you use the other ninety-five. That doesn’t usually make the five-percenters happy.” He stretched his long legs. “This canister Mr. Moseby found…what’s it made of?”

  “Graphite.”

  “No metallic signature that way, pretty standard stuff.” Leo sniffed. “Any markings on the outside? Symbols or warning—”

  “No. Just a serial number or something.”

  “What’s the number?”

  “Ah…Seventy-two-slash-one-oh-six.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Leo let his head flop back. “Wow. They actually did it.”

  “Did what?”

  “Seventy-two-slash-one-oh-six isn’t a serial number. It’s the atomic structure of hafnium. Seventy-two protons. One hundred six neutrons. Those old-time scientists…you have to give them credit. So far beyond us, in some ways. Pure research, a culture of intellectual inquiry and unlimited budgets…must have been nice.” Leo rubbed his nose, sniffed. “It wasn’t even supposed to be possible. Oh, maybe in a purely theoretical sense, of course, but not—”

  “Is it some kind of a bomb?” said Rakkim. “Like a hydrogen bomb or a neutron bomb?”

  “No…not like that.” Leo giggled. “Hafnium bomb…it’s much more powerful.”

  Chapter 40

  Late morning and the camp rippled with activity, an increased focus Rakkim hadn’t seen before. Nothing definite, but the squad of troops moving from their tents to a nearby staging area had an extra kick to their step, trucks rumbled past more often than usual, and soldiers sat around outside the mess hall cleaning weapons that were already maintained. Rakkim wasn’t the only one who noticed. The miners leaned against their machines, bleary-eyed
and covered in dust, watching the proceedings.

  “What’s happening?” Rakkim asked a sergeant barreling past.

  The sergeant barely glanced at Rakkim and Leo, both of them in civilian work clothes, and walked on.

  “Does the Colonel know we’re here?” said Leo.

  “I sent word.” Rakkim spotted Baby on horseback at the edge of camp, ran toward her, waving his hands to catch her attention. She must have seen him, because she turned her horse, a huge white stallion, and trotted over, her movements graceful, perfectly attuned to the stride of the horse.

  “There you are, handsome,” said Baby, tall in the saddle, the reins in one hand as she patted the horse’s neck with the other. The sun turned her blond hair bronze. Her boots creaked in the stirrups. “Colonel’s looking for you.”

  “What’s going on, Baby?” said Rakkim.

  “Oh, trouble somewhere in the kingdom, like always,” said Baby. “Never a dull moment. Bores me to tears, if you want to know, but the Colonel’s sending off some boys to settle things down.” She nodded at Leo. “Who’s this big fellah?”

  “I’m Leo, ma’am,” said Leo, stepping away from the horse. Probably allergic.

  “Nice to—” Baby pressed a finger to her earpiece, listening. “I’m talking to him right now, sweetie.” She looked down at Rakkim. “Colonel says to meet him at the east lookout and double-time it.” She patted the horse’s back behind the saddle. “I could give one of you a ride, but I’d be hard-pressed to choose.” She spurred the horse, dirt kicking up around them.

  “Wow,” said Leo. “That’s the most beautiful girl I ever saw…except for Leanne.”

  They found the Colonel peering through binoculars down the east access road. A half-dozen guards stood nearby, assault rifles tracking Rakkim and Leo as they approached.

  The Colonel turned, beckoned them closer.

  “Colonel, this is Leo—smartest man you’ll ever meet, just ask him,” said Rakkim. “Leo’s the Ident tech wiz that the Russians hired to check out your weapon.”

  “You make me feel old, son,” said the Colonel. “You started shaving yet?” He glanced at Rakkim. “Still haven’t found the weapon. Still haven’t decided if I’m going to share it with the Russians when I do.”

  “Come on, Colonel, you didn’t win all those battles by overthinking every decision,” said Rakkim. “You’re going to do what your instincts tell you, and most of the time, you’re going to be right.”

  “You’re just saying that because I took a liking to you,” said the Colonel, bright blue eyes sparkling in the morning light. “So did Baby, and I usually trust her judgment. Only thing that prevented me from throwing in with you that first night was I can’t abide a man who betrays his country, even the republic.” His eyes crinkled. “Turns out you’re not a traitor.”

  They turned and watched a couple of loaded troop transports roll past, the Colonel’s expression serious for a moment before his good humor returned.

  “You told me you had betrayed your Fedayeen oath when the Russians made you a large enough offer. Nothing special, just another tough guy gone outlaw.” The Colonel wagged a finger. “Not so.”

  “Heck, Colonel, if you only deal with honest men, you’re going to be awfully lonely.”

  “Let’s just say I like to know who walks in my house. So I had some folks do a full workup on you.” The Colonel tugged at one of his sideburns. “Turns out you’re not just another outlaw, you’re Rakkim Epps. Orphaned at nine, raised by Redbeard himself, a Fedayeen shadow warrior until you abandoned your calling to consort with lowlifes in the Zone. Damn, you must have been a disappointment to Redbeard, ’cause I know it would tear me up to see a pup I raised to hunt end up with his snout in garbage.” He seemed amused. “I put a hacker on you, real smart lady in Columbia City—she dug up your true background.” He inclined his head toward Rakkim. “It seems sometimes one can find a needle in a haystack.”

  “You reach into a haystack, be careful you don’t draw blood,” said Rakkim.

  “You’ve been playing a role since you were a child,” said the Colonel. “You’re not a renegade, and you’re no Muslim either. You’re a patriot, a Russian sleeper agent.” He gently turned Rakkim’s wrist, touched the crucifix burned into his palm. “Born-again Christian too. I wondered about that the first time we shook hands.”

  Rakkim felt the breeze off the mountain wash over him, felt clean to the bone, pleased. Spider had done his job, planted the false background so deep that only another top hacker could find it. Best way to make certain the lie would be believed.

  “Nine years old and set out on the street,” said the Colonel, shaking his head. “Hell’s bells, boy, you’re the deepest sleeper I ever heard of. Gave up your childhood for Mother Russia.”

  “Wasn’t like I had a choice.” Rakkim shrugged. Offered his hand. “We have a deal?”

  The Colonel shook his hand. “Screw the Chinese.”

  “Screw the Chinese,” said Rakkim. “How did you find out about me?”

  “Evidently there’s some kind of back door at a KGB database that this little gal in Columbia City discovered. She only found it because of some new wormware developed last year.”

  “Lucky girl,” said Rakkim.

  “Goddamn, the boys in Moscow must have been proud of you.” The Colonel clapped Rakkim on the back. “I’d love to know what it was like growing up with Redbeard. Most of them running the show in the republic are useless as tits on a bull, useless as our own politicians, but Redbeard…he seemed like a real man.”

  “Redbeard didn’t cut slack, Colonel, not for himself or anybody else, but the things I learned from him saved my life more often than I can count. You and Redbeard…I think you would have liked each other.”

  “I take that as a high compliment.” The Colonel leaned forward. “Did he ever have any idea…ever get a hint of who you really were?”

  Rakkim shook his head. “Not that there weren’t times I wanted to tell him.”

  “Probably just as well. Head of State Security nursing a Russian spy to his bosom, teaching him all his tricks…might have been too much to bear.”

  “We all make mistakes.”

  “That we do.” The Colonel looked down the road below. “I even made a few myself.”

  “You waiting for something, Colonel?”

  The Colonel kept his face turned away. “Got word yesterday of some bandit activity in Hattiesburg and Marston, ugly business. Last night I sent Alpha Company to bolster the local defense units. That left me with just two companies, which is a little shorthanded, but things have been quiet. Until now.” He turned to Rakkim. “You ever hear of a gang of trash called the End-Times Army?”

  “Some kind of hopped-up maniacs, right?”

  “That’s them. Run by a fellow called Crews. Calls himself a preacher”—the Colonel spit—“but him and me must be reading a different Bible. He’s outside my authority, but I’ve been meaning to pay him a visit anyway, and clean out the whole nest. Couple hours ago I got a report of End-Timers around here. Nothing credible. Rumor mostly. Still, it made me wonder if the attacks around Hattiesburg and Marston were just feints to get me to split my force.” He smiled but there was no humor in it. “Maybe this Crews figured he’d get to me before I got to him. Always somebody wants to find out if the old dog still has teeth.”

  “Might not be you Crews is after,” said Rakkim. “Maybe he wondered what you were digging for these last few months.”

  The Colonel looked into his eyes. “Hard to keep a secret, isn’t it?”

  Rakkim looked away from the path up the mountain, focused on the treeline in the distance. You could hide a whole division there and no one would know. Or there could just be trees. Hard to imagine that Malcolm Crews could have gotten his men into position so quickly. They’ll do whatever I tell them to do, that’s what Crews had said last night, already knowing that the Colonel had divided his forces. He had agreed to attack in four days, on the night of the new moon,
but Crews had made other plans, because either he didn’t trust Rakkim or he didn’t trust his own men. Either way, they were on Crews’s timetable now. Not bad for an English professor. Rakkim had never intended for Crews to be a threat to the Colonel’s forces, never thought that Crews had that sizable a force—he just needed a diversion so that he and Leo could escape with the weapon and take Moseby with them.

  “Might be time to send up that Chinese bird,” said Rakkim. “Thermal imaging should be able to tell you what you’re up against, and there’s more than enough firepower in the Monsoon—”

  “Chopper’s down for maintenance. Temperamental piece of shit.” The Colonel touched his ear, listened. “On my way.” He looked at Rakkim and Leo. “Come on, boys, let’s see what Moseby found in the lake.”

  The three of them piled into a nearby jeep. The Colonel raced up the mountain road, skidding on gravel, leaning on the horn to blast laggards out of the way.

  Leo hung on with both hands, eyes squeezed shut.

  “The information you must have fed to your people when you lived with Redbeard—” The Colonel banged against Rakkim as he hit the brakes, sent the jeep into a controlled spin around a switchback. “When you were in the Fedayeen. Why did the Russians want you to give up your commission?”

  “They didn’t. I decided to be my own man.”

  “Dangerous decision.” The Colonel bounced off the seat as they hit a pothole too fast. “But I expect they weren’t too surprised. You got the look of a man who has to dance to his own tune.”

  “You fortifying the eastern slope in case you’re attacked, Colonel?”

  “It’s the easiest approach. Got to figure that’s the way Crews’s men would come. From what I hear, his men are poorly trained…it’s the dope that gives them courage. Dope and some crazy-ass snake-handling mumbo-jumbo.”

  “Don’t neglect the southern route either,” said Rakkim.

  “Too rugged,” said the Colonel. “I’ve got to place my forces at the most likely choke points.”

  “I studied every engagement you ever fought, Colonel. Battle of Big Pines, the rest of the Belt commanders concentrated their men at the shallows of the river, where it was easiest to cross. You—” Rakkim almost flew out of his seat as the Colonel accelerated. “You sent your men downstream, where the river was deepest, and fastest, and enough of them survived the crossing to circle behind the Second Army of the Republic. You surprised them…then annihilated them.” He hung on. “I’m just saying, maybe I’m not the only one who studied your strategy.”