by T. C. Edge
“And where is home exactly?” asked Chloe, curious. “Chicago?”
“I believe she has a private estate outside Chicago, yes,” said Ragan. “She’s spoken of home to me occasionally, but never gave a location. Some people are very careful in giving away their main address.”
“Hmmmmm. So, we need to find where it is then,” said Chloe, scratching her chin. “We go there, take her in, question her. I doubt she’d have the data disc on site, assuming Mikel’s made the trade or will do so soon, but we can grab her at least. I don’t get the impression she’ll hold out under interrogation like Mikel.”
“I like the enthusiasm, Chloe,” said Ragan, towing the line between completely denying her, and yet being supportive of her energy. “But…it’s not as easy as that. The Mid-States aren’t as hard to infiltrate as the other nations, but it’s not like we can just wander in uninvited.”
“Why not? I’ve been wandering around the continent for three years…mostly uninvited.”
“That’s true,” grinned Nadia. “We’ve got the world’s expert here on evading capture and going unseen.”
“Yeah, Hunt,” joined in Tanner. “We’re rogues now, even more than we were before. It’s just us four, no one else. We can slip in and out of just about anywhere, and you know it. The falcon will get us close. We’ll do the rest ourselves.”
“Fine,” said Ragan, playing along. “In principle, sure, perhaps we can infiltrate Martha’s estate. However, we have no idea if she’s even there. Or, might I add, where her estate actually is. We have the beginnings of an idea and nothing more. It’s very little to go on.”
“Hmmmm, then maybe we do need some help,” backtracked Tanner, though with that playful tone of humour returning.
A thought worked its way into Chloe’s head, like a man with a hammer suddenly crashing through a wall. The bricks tumbled, and her attention was snatched. And as the others continued to confer, her voice broke free.
“Dax!” she said. She all but shouted it.
The others turned to her, frowning. Only Ragan knew the name.
“Ragan, Dax will be able to help!” she went on. “He’s the best hacker in the business. He’ll be able to find out where Martha lives. Maybe even find out if she’s there or not.” Another thought came, following quickly after the first. “I’ve got a comms device!” she went on, eyes widening, glowing blue. “He gave it to me, said it’s a direct line to him. Told me to call him if ever I needed…” she trailed off suddenly. Her eyes closed a little, face scrunching up.
“What?” asked Nadia, breathless, leaning forward. All were doing so, caught up in Chloe’s sudden, bright idea.
Chloe huffed, shaking her head.
“The comms unit,” she muttered disappointedly. “It’s back at base. It’s in my bag…in my room.” Her posture sank, deflating like an inflatable chair sat on by a man far too big for it. “We’ll never get it back now.”
Nadia patted her on the arm consolingly.
“It was a good idea, Chloe,” she said. “Shame…”
“No,” said Ragan suddenly, shaking his head. “It’s not just a good idea…it’s the only one we’ve got. I don’t see that we have a choice.”
Tanner frowned.
“What are you saying, exactly? You wanna go back to base and get Chloe’s bag? That’s madness, Ragan. The place will be on lockdown right now. They’d see us coming for sure!”
Ragan shook his head as Tanner spoke, a smile forming.
“Nothing so brash, Cliff,” he said. “Returning to base would be a death wish, and far too risky. I’ve got something better in mind.”
Chloe was half-excited, half concerned by the look that grew on his face. His eyes twinkled with a rare thrill, as if livened by some hope. A weak hope, yes, but something to latch onto.
“OK,” said Tanner. “And what wonderful idea is your mind coming up with now?”
“I think you’ll like it,” said Ragan. “You always love returning home, right?”
Tanner started.
“LA!” he said, incredulous. “You want to go to LA? That’s hardly much better, Ragan!”
“We’re out of options, folks,” Ragan said, his voice strangely breezy in tone, as if he had some direction to follow now, and that was enough. “We don’t have Project Dawn. We don’t have the CID. So I guess Dax will have to do.”
“And…who the hell is this Dax you speak of?” asked Nadia, folding her arms.
“I’ll let Chloe fill you in on that one,” said Ragan, heading towards the cockpit. “Come on, Cliff, no time to lose…”
Tanner held back for a moment, looking pointedly at the girls.
“I think he’s losing it,” he said. “I’ve rarely seen him so animated.”
“Stress does funny things to people,” nodded Nadia in agreement.
Chloe watched on, bemused by it all. She’d been in LA only days ago. She’d escaped LA only days ago. And now…she was going back.
The turns my life takes, she thought, sighing, as the others moved down the plane.
61
Mikel stood at the end of a long, well groomed track, stretching off towards a large, stately home. The structure was too far away right now to properly inspect, but appeared ornately designed and beautifully appointed, jutting off with many wings and stone balconies, surrounded by gardens, fountains, statues, and several other smaller buildings besides.
Behind him, a whirring noise was sounding, made by the gate - attended by several armed guards - as it slowly closed shut. The gate was the only reasonable way into the estate, the entire grounds surrounded by walls and guarded night and day. Still, if Mikel had desired a different manner of entry, he’d have achieved it quite easily.
Today, that wasn’t his intention. No, today Mikel came bearing gifts. He came in the spirit of goodwill, such as it was between liars and thieves, murderers and betrayers.
He smiled at the thought, and heaved a breath of fresh air into his lungs. He’d spent far too long with Hunt and his team, infected by their enticing nanites. It had become unbearable, his hunger serving to coil his insides and pollute his mind. There was no worse torture for a nano-vamp than spending so much time amongst his prey, shackled and unable to feed, desperate hunger ever gnawing at him, ever clouding his thoughts, even his dreams. Another day or so, and he’d have been delirious. Enough, perhaps, to have given up the data without a fight, simply to seek a feeding elsewhere.
But Hunt and his foolish band weren’t cunning enough for that, nor could they delay any further. Mikel had noted their desperation, and taken advantage of it. If only they’d had more patience, he mused, huffing lightly with a relaxed grin.
He stepped forward down the track, posture smooth, his odd weightlessness barely causing the gravel to crunch as he advanced. The breeze flowed pleasantly, rustling the trees, bringing scents of flowers along with it that Mikel had never known. He drew in the smell, wishing he could enjoy it, but as always found himself wanting. He’d been cursed to enjoy one thing only; the very hunger he now sought to escape.
Ahead, he could see members of staff at work. Several were tending the gardens. There was one cleaning the fountain, another performing some reconstructive work on a statue that had been damaged. Several more were stationary, guards standing at their posts, heavily armed and ever vigilant.
They weren’t nano-enhanced, of course. Just regular men, trained to kill but without the special augmentations given to their lofty kin. It appeared that Martha Mitchell was a woman who liked to feel well protected, and a woman with plenty of money. It was something of a thrill for Mikel, coming here without knowing anything about her, without truly knowing what to expect. Life had become an endless hunt for nanite-filled blood, but this was something else. He felt alive, free, and hopeful at the prospect of what was to come.
His appearance was noted as he ventured on, and several of the attending workers in the grounds looked up with quizzical eyes. Even from a distance, Mikel knew he could be a disquieting charac
ter to sheltered people. Most wouldn’t suspect him a nano-vamp, of course. They’d just see a man in a black suit, strolling calmly, his skin pale and hair an inky slick of black. Yet still, he had an aura about him, a danger that people noticed. Even before he bared his teeth and displayed his fangs, he often felt that fear rise up, almost visible to him as a mist, spreading from the tops of their heads.
He glanced across the gardens, keen to make eye contact with those who looked at him. Each time he did, they turned away immediately, or else did so before he’d snared them with a narrow-eyed glare, aware of what he was doing. He smiled and moved on, turning his attention back to the main entrance to the mansion. The door was opening, two large men dressed similarly as he was stepping out. One had an excessive black beard, a facial feature Mikel didn’t care for. The other was more appropriately designed, hair neat and face cleanly-shaven. It was clear enough to Mikel that these men were bodyguards.
They turned now, as a third person moved through the door and out into the afternoon sunshine. They were still at least fifty metres away, but the new arrival remained striking even from this distance. An impressive array of auburn hair atop her head, lips painted red, contrasting nicely with pale, creamy skin. She wore a blue coat that complemented her look, walking stoically and with no hint of fear in her eyes. While Mikel could smell the fear on the others around the ground, these three gave off nothing. No hint, no whiff. Not even these men who…
Mikel smelled something else. He stopped momentarily, as if to make sure, sniffing the air again. Yes, it was unmistakable. These men were nano-augmented. They had the smell of the Ravens.
He felt a sudden rumble inside him, the scent throwing him off his stride a little. His focus was momentarily lost, but quickly recaptured. Ignore it, Mikel, he warned himself. Don’t give in.
He straightened himself up again and continued on. The others came from the opposite direction moving down a set of marble steps and across a short courtyard, set with another fountain at its centre. They passed, moving towards the long driveway, the two towering guards flanking the rather diminutive woman. As she got closer, Mikel focused on her alone, ignoring the other two. He’d have to suffer the scent. Grin and bear it, he thought. He warned. He begged.
“So, this is the enigmatic Martha Mitchell,” he said, voice smooth, as he approached the trio. They stopped several paces from him, the men’s feet reaching the gravel and crunching loudly. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. To put a face to that strange, modulated voice.” He smiled, enjoying his little joke.
Martha nodded in reply, tipping her head slightly to one side, and offered a generous grin. Now that she was closer, Mikel could note the nerves in her, hidden beyond her make-up, behind her well-practiced smile. She looked anxious, if not afraid. Anxious to get things done.
“And a pleasure to officially meet you too, Mikel,” said Martha calmly. “I must commend you on your excellent work.”
“It was no trouble,” said Mikel. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of your trust before. I see the light now, Mrs Mitchell. I must apologise for my actions to this point.”
Martha nodded once more, appreciative of the contrition. They had covered the same ground not so long ago over their comms link, but the pleasantries seemed appropriate in this setting. Martha had also asked that Mikel make no trouble, and that he be as discreet as possible when discussing their transaction. He wondered now, looking at her bodyguards, if they knew who he was to her, and what he could be to them. Nano-augmented soldiers had a sense about them that could usually spot a man like Mikel from some way off.
He inspected them briefly. Ah yes, they know, he thought.
“Do you have the package, Mikel?” asked Martha. Her voice remained in control, but held a suppressive quality to it, as if she was holding down her desperation, smothering it violently. On this occasion, Mikel had no intention whatsoever of taking advantage of that.
“I do,” he said, bowing respectfully.
“You have it on your person?” she asked eagerly.
Mikel fished into his pocket and withdrew the data disc. He could see Martha’s eyes bulging, though trying not to. He noted her chest heave with an intake of air. She must have been surprised that he’d hand it over so willingly.
“I have your guarantees,” Mikel said. “You will see to your end of the bargain?”
Martha nodded, trying not to eye the disc too lustfully.
“My bosses will be only too happy to help you, Mikel,” she said. “We ask no service of you, only that you cause us no trouble once it is done.”
“I have no interest in troubling you,” said Mikel. He drew a breath, the air filled with the smell of nanites. He blinked, clenching his jaw and trying not to look at the guards. “How long will it take before you’re ready?”
Martha hesitated.
“It’s…hard to say,” she said. “We have a team of scientists ready to decipher the data as soon as it’s in their hands. It may take hours, days, or more, to piece it together. We won’t know until we have taken a look.”
Her eyes went to the data once more, twirling in Mikel’s fingers. He had a habit of toying with people that was hard to break, even though he knew it wasn’t appropriate now. He stopped his fiddling and held the disc firm.
“The sooner, the better,” he whispered. He shut his eyes again and drew a breath. “I…I need a distraction until that time,” he said, turning his eyes back up to her. He washed them over the two men. It appeared to him that Martha got his meaning.
“I see,” she said. “Are we speaking about Hunt again? I told you already, Mikel, that he and his team are beyond my influence now…”
Mikel lifted a hand, shaking his head.
“No, I didn’t mean Hunt. I will see to him in my own time.” His voice was weakening, growing to a raspy whisper. This proximity to these Ravens wasn’t what he needed.
“Then…” said Martha, glancing to her men suspiciously.
Mikel shook his head.
“Not if you don’t accept it,” he whispered.
“I do not,” Martha said. “I will, however, see what I can do. There is fighting not far from here. I believe some Panthers have been spotted in the ruins of Cincinnati. You prefer them, don’t you?”
Mikel nodded hungrily.
“Good. Then I shall pass on what intel I have to you. Now, hand over the disc, Mikel, and we can begin the process.”
Mikel hesitated once more. He felt oddly reticent all of a sudden, as if the data had some hold over him. It was worthless to him in this state, of course, with its contents hidden. He needed to pass it on if he wished to get what he so wanted. And yet, still he held back a moment longer, finding it hard to give up. This small disc, encased in protective metal, that was so valuable to so many. So sought after. So very, very powerful.
“Mikel,” repeated Martha once more, her voice firming a little. “The sooner you hand me that data, the sooner we can help you.”
But can I truly trust you? Mikel wondered. And do I have a choice?
No, he didn’t. He’d made this decision. This was what he wanted. He stepped forward, taking a pace towards the attractive woman with the pleasant face and keen brown eyes, a facade that clearly got her far, and duped so many. Would she dupe him? Would she dare?
He needed to make sure.
He reached her, barely a step away, and held the data out. Her fingers came forward, nails neatly cut, styled, and painted, trembling ever-so-slightly as they came.
Mikel held off.
“If you betray me like you did Hunt and the others,” he said, his voice darkening suddenly, cold as a long winter’s night. “Then I will find you, Martha. I trust you know just what I’m capable of.”
Martha smiled, her simmering nerves cast off.
“Mikel, I will not betray you,” she said, confident. “When we excavate this disc’s secrets, we shall both benefit. That is both of our reward for capturing it, and I will gladly lay down my life to you
should I fail to honour my word.”
“Your word, Martha, will soon be tested.” He dipped his head again, refusing to look at the brutish figures to her left and right, standing at her flanks like totems. “I shall put my faith in you.”
He reached forwards a little further, and Martha finally took up the data. She drew it towards her chest, almost protectively, letting out a puff of air. Her smile worked high upon her lips, and she nodded her appreciation.
“I look forward to seeing you again, Mikel,” she said. “I relish seeing what becomes of you.”
“As do I, Martha.”
“I shall send you the intel we have on the conflict going on in Cincinnati. I hear it’s a ferocious battleground there. Don’t go getting yourself killed now.”
She smiled. Was that genuine?
“Oh, I won’t,” whispered Mikel. “Desolated cities are one of my favourite hunting grounds.”
She laughed lightly, displaying a sheen of perfect teeth.
“Good luck, Mikel. We’ll get to work immediately.”
She turned, her bodyguards following after a moment’s delay. They left Mikel with a snarl, faces shaped in disgust. And then they joined their mistress.
Martha was finally able to break free of her facade as she entered into her home, passing through the wooden double doors and into a spacious hallway. She stopped, held up her palm, and looked inside. A smile broke free, bringing tears with it. They streamed from her eyes, a chuckle of relief-induced laughter gurgling up her throat and echoing around the house.
A cleaning maid watched on, curious. Martha Mitchell was prone to smiling, perhaps even laughing on occasion, but nothing like this. She was weeping with a mixture of relief and joy, her rampant emotions no doubt helped along by the generous helpings of brandy she’d consumed that morning on the jet.
To her sides, Kurt and Rick gathered, looking on with similar interest. Martha had explained to them just how sensitive the ‘package’ was that her courier was to deliver, though hadn’t told them precisely what it was. Few knew the true secrets of what the data held, and Martha had no intention of bringing her bodyguards in on the finer details, unless sanctioned to do so.