Kidnapped

by Nathan Pedde

  “Liar,” Ahnika said. “Try again.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Sheemo said.

  Ahnika walked out of the cell and shut the door.

  A moment later, she walked in with a tablet. She turned it on and pressed a button. A short movie appeared on the screen.The movie clip was shot using the tablet itself of a beat-up girl who sat tied to a chair in the middle of the room. She had blood covering her clothes, and her hair was draped across her face. Sheemo let out a sharp intake of breath.

  Susan?Sheemo thought.Wait. That’s not right.

  “Do you know who that is?” Ahnika asked.

  “No,” Sheemo said.

  “It’s your friend Susan Tao,” Ahnika said. “We caught her a few days ago. Unless you start cooperating, we will hurt her in ways that can’t be easily healed.”

  Susan or not. She’s going to hurt her, Sheemo thought, an idea flashed through his mind, which he didn’t like the sound of it. I’m nuts for doing this.

  “You’re a monster,” Sheemo said. “Let her go.”

  Ahnika lowered the screen. “Help us or she loses fingers.”

  Sheemo was on his feet and charged across the room. His hands outstretched toward Ahnika.

  Ahnika whipped out an electric-baton and struck Sheemo with it. Electricity coursed through Sheemo, causing him to stop mid-motion. He fell to the floor twitching.

  “Think about that, pretty boy,” Ahnika said, leaving the room.

  Sheemo laid on the floor of the room. The electricity stopped flowing, but he still hurt where the baton hit him.

  I needed to get out of this place.

  He wasn’t sure how long he laid on the floor. He wasn’t planning on moving much. He hadn’t eaten in at least a day, and he didn’t expect to be fed ever again for a while.

  Then the door slammed open. Two robots walked into the room. They picked up Sheemo by the shoulders, dragging him down the hallway. After a moment, he realized he was being taken to the presidential suite.

  Ahnika opened the door and led them into the room. Against one wall was a giant TV screen. The screen was split up into different smaller screens. Off to one side of the room was a high-backed chair.

  In the leather chair was Dr. Oraelius, dressed in similar clothing than he was before.

  “I’m disappointed in you,” Dr. Oraelius said. “And impressed. You’ve resisted my offers better than what I thought you could have. That just means you’re the best person for the job. I need you—”

  “News flash,” Sheemo interrupted. “Because I’m not going to help you. You might as well space me.”

  “I thought you’d say that,” Dr. Oraelius said. “But you aren’t going to have a choice.”

  “What do you mean?” Sheemo asked.

  Dr. Oraelius turned to the TV set. “Show me the camera two hundred and twelve.”

  A single-camera was blown up to fill the entire screen. To Sheemo, the footage was from a surveillance camera looking like it was handheld. It was a picture of Des and Elsie walking down the street clear as day.

  “You see,” Dr. Oraelius said. “If you don’t help me, then I’ll torture these two. To put it simply, you will help me. Or they will suffer.”

  “Des, you fool,” Sheemo said.

  The camera showed a tall man dress in simple work clothes walk up to Des. Sheemo watched the man put a hand on Des’s shoulder. The image of Des and Elsie disappeared and faded into nothing.

  “What!” Dr. Oraelius shouted. “This is ridiculous.”

  “A hologram,” Sheemo said.

  “Sir,” Ahnika said. “I have reports from the Gold Sector that Des and Elsie are there. No wait, I have other agents that have them in the Black Sector. Now the Purple Sector. And the Teal.”

  “More holograms,” Dr. Oraelius said. “Are they the same? Walking side by side down the street?”

  “No,” Ahnika said. “Sometimes they’re split up, sometimes they’re running.”

  “Go, Des,” Sheemo said under his breath.

  “Now the communications array team has them on the phone,” Ahnika said.

  “That’ll be the real one,” Dr. Oraelius said. “Go get them.”

  “Um—” Ahnika said. “There are a hundred and seventy identical calls from them. Biometrics and standard array have confirmed.”

  “What?” Dr. Oraelius asked, turning to Sheemo bellowing. “Get him out of here.”

  Sheemo was dragged back to his cell and tossed in. He knew there would be ramifications for him. He was proud of Des. He had the advantage of momentarily.He wouldn’t count on Des getting him out. He would try to engineer his own escape. If he could only figure out how.

  Sheemo walked to the corner of the room. From what Sheemo saw, there was one single directional camera in his cell, showing just the far wall. He was pretty sure in the other corner, they couldn’t see him.

  Crouching down, he moved a tile from the floor. Underneath was a hollowed-out part. Sheemo had chipped away the concrete floor and created a small hole. In the small pit, he had placed a flathead screwdriver and a pocketknife. Sheemo put a Robertson screwdriver into the hole. It had a different head than the others.

  Sheemo had to be patient and ready for when he got his moment. He replaced the tile on the floor and used dirt and other debris to hide it had been lifted. He moved to the other side of the cell, slumping against the wall.

  Ahnika walked into the room, setting a small tray of food on the ground by the door. “Why are you resisting?”

  Sheemo didn’t answer her. He had no intention of answering a single question if he could help it.

  “Do you think you’re heroic?” Ahnika asked. “That the authorities and the people of the blasted station see you went missing, and they’re coming to save you?”

  Ahnika shook her head, turning to leave the room. “You’re not heroic. You’re being stubborn and a fool.”

  “Better to die a fool than to live like one,” Sheemo said.

  Ahnika left the room.

  Sheemo walked over to the food, opening the tray. It was a chicken curry rice with vegetables. Good food and a significant portion.

  “Poisoned probably,” Sheemo said to himself.

  Sheemo ate it anyway. He had to risk being poisoned to keep his strength up. Finishing the last bite, the station shifted, and he collapsed to the ground.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Elsie drove the hover-scooter through the streets, with Des in the side car, weaving through the different sectors. It was the start of a long day in the large station. Amy gave Des coordinates of places she felt would be the best to hide a holo-projector. She wanted to extend her reach to control any holograms she activated.

  After twelve hours of driving through the streets, Des was tired, hungry and wishing he could take Umtix as a pick-me-up. He resisted the temptation though. Des watched the spindle lighten up, as the night turned into day. The streets went from being empty of people to packed full of school kids in uniforms and workers heading to work.

  Des’s cell phone rang. “Go for mobile 2.”

  “This is the nest,” Susan replied.

  “Is this line secure?” Des asked.

  “The comm network is so full of communications we are about to crash the system.”

  “That’s a little scary,” Des said.

  Des watched a Station Guard stand on a street corner, his hands on his radio, a frustrated look on his face. He tried to get through. However, it wasn’t working.

  “We have a lock on a target site,” Susan said. “How do you say it- please proceed to target and do a rendezvous mission.”

  Des grinned, shaking his head. “I’ll go by there and take a look.”

  Susan gave him the location. After he hung up the phone, he gave them to Elsie.

  “It’s going to take us at least three hours to get to,” Des said. “We need to go.”

  “Fine,” Elsie said, “I’m going to take the freeway, that’ll shave a half-hour from our time.” />
  “I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”

  “I’ve been a spy longer than you. It’s worth the risk.”

  Elsie turned the scooter, heading for the freeway three blocks away. Hair stood up on the back of his neck as he scanned the streets. At first, no one stood out to him. Standard civilians, no one was anyone of note. Standing on a street corner were players. They clumped around in a group talking to each other.

  In front of the hover-scooter was a long line of traffic, a delivery truck had backed out of a nearby parking lot and blocked the flow of traffic. Elsie stopped behind a yellow taxi.

  “Elsie,” Des said. “Targets at ten o’clock.”

  “The gang?” Elsie said.

  “Affirmative.”

  “I don’t want to make a scene.”

  “Agreed. Only if they make a move.”

  Des hoped they wouldn’t notice him sitting on a hover-scooter right in front of them. He couldn’t help. However, listening in to their jumbled mess of a conversation.

  “I don’t know how the bastard did it.”

  “There are hundreds of him.”

  “I tried to tag three of them.”

  “Is there a pattern for them?”

  “I’m sure he’s cheating.”

  “One moment there, the next gone.”

  Ahead of him, the delivery driver got out of his truck to yell at a nearby taxi driver.

  “Hey,” the older player said, the one that had let him go earlier in the game, “there’s a target I hadn’t tagged yet.”

  The older player stepped from the curb, his hand inside his coat pocket.

  “We can do this the easy way,” he said. “Or the hard way.”

  Des pulled a grenade out of his pocket. “Make your move.”

  The man stood on the street corner and glared at Des for a moment.

  Des lowered it underneath the outer shell of the sidecar, least any civilian sees it and call the station guards.

  “I see you have a love of grenades,” the man said, pulling out himself.

  “Elsie!” Des said, lifting the grenade.

  Elsie was already moving. She gunned the engines, the lifters soared away from the gang of players.

  Des pulled the pin, throwing the grenade at the gang. At the same moment, the player tossed a grenade at Des. The players scattered every which way to get away from the danger.

  Elsie aimed the scooter for the sidewalk, racing through the walk and around pedestrians. The distance between Des and the players stretched out.

  “Out of the way,” Elsie shouted at the people.

  Both grenades exploded. Des’s shot a horde of pins at the players, the cars, and surrounding buildings. The player’s sonic grenade exploded a moment later, more destructive than the pin.

  Des looked behind him, the surrounding windows of the nearby buildings and hover-cars shattered. Their hover-lifters shorted and broke. The hover-car behind Des and every vehicle in a ten-meter diameter of the sonic grenade slammed into the ground.

  Most of the gang of players lay on the ground with blood dribbling out of their ears. The few survivors stood off in scattered places, holding their heads and ears. The older player stood across the street with blood dripping out of his nose. In his right hand was a stun gun.

  “Elsie, dodge,” Des said.

  Elsie swerved into the street between two vehicles, the pins from the older player slammed into a car’s windshield, lodging into the window.

  The nearby drivers and pedestrians stood by the cars, looking at the destruction behind them. Each person shouting hysterically of the attack.

  Dodging mirrors, doors, and bumpers, Elsie weaved her way through the sea of stopped hover-cars. Des was amazed Elsie was able to drive so well. It was like she was a girl possessed with apparent focus.

  A couple pedestrians looked at Des, and a few pointed at him. It looked like Des was fleeing the scene of the crime. He ducked underneath a mirror from a parked car, which threatened to take off Des’s head, helmet and all.

  Elsie weaved her way past the blocking delivery truck, the red paint of Courier One standing out in the street.

  Des recognized the delivery driver standing on the side of the road. Diplin stood with his face slack in shock and horror. As Elsie drove past him, Des looked onward at Diplin. He hadn’t seen the man in a month. Diplin didn’t look at Des as they blew past them.

  Des and Elsie soared up the on-ramp and were on the freeway. Des checked behind him for anyone following. If someone did follow it would be difficult to lose them. He kept an eye on a blue hover-car and another person on a hover-scooter, both looking suspicious, staying on the freeway while others turned off.

  An hour later, the blue car turned off the freeway at the exit before Elsie did. The scooter, however, still followed.

  “Elsie,” Des said through the wind noise. “We have a tail.”

  “Black scooter?” Elsie asked. “Player?”

  “Not that I can tell.”

  “Roger. This is our exit.”

  Elsie took the freeway exit, and Des watched the black hover-scooter soar off the freeway behind them. They were being followed. Des wanted to shoot the tail with his stun gun. That would cause too much of a commotion, and he didn’t want any more heat on him. Elsie would have to lose him without Des resorting to violence.

  Des and Elsie found themselves in the Pink sector, which he never ventured into it often. Not in the employ of Courier One or Station Security. The area was a commercial district once been bristling with foreign shops. It was a neighborhood to buy expensive wood or paper products from Mars or Earth, or purchase delicate earthenware dishes — something that isn’t manufactured outside of Earth. Now the stores had closed. There was no way for the shops to get products with the current war.

  Des remembered one shop selling expensive wood instruments. Now the store was a Jovian Armed Forces Recruitment Center. Most of the other stores had their metal shutters had been closed; never to open again.

  Elsie turned left and right a half-dozen times. The tail disappeared into the crowd of vehicles. After a few more turns, the motorbike was nowhere to be seen. Elsie drove to a high-end electric shop, one with tablets and other communication devices.

  Des had Elsie stop, and he went into the shop. He came out with some of the gear he was missing. It wasn’t perfect. However, it was better than nothing. Elsie groaned to herself, muttering about access risk and boys with their toys.

  Des and Elsie sat at a nearby coffee shop, which looked like it wasn’t handling the war well. Only one employee was working. Before the war, the shop had eight.

  “Coffee is nice,” Elsie said, taking a sip of her mocha.

  “You shouldn’t be drinking coffee,” Des said, taking a sip of a latte.

  Elsie rolled her eyes, smiling. “Hypocrite. And stop talking like my mother.”

  Across the street, Des recognized three thugs. One of them being the driver of a black van. Des’s sonic grenade and knocked him into unconsciousness. Large wads of cotton were shoved in the man’s ears.

  “Did they see us?” Elsie asked. “Have they seen through our plan?”

  “I don’t think so,” Des said.

  The three men entered a tall closed business building across the street. The building had been shuttered with a sign that said: Closing Sale.

  Des got a quick look inside the building as the three men opened the door and walked in. Standing inside the door was the darkened figure of a robot, which despite looking like some type of statue, the robot’s tall and broad figure was striking.

  “That’s it,” Des said. “That’s the enemy base.”

  “Are you sure?” Elsie asked.

  “Pretty sure. Amy said she had tracked some of the targets into this building.”

  “Now we have recon on the target. Back to the hideout?”

  “Yes. Did you want to drive again?”

  “Do you need to ask?”

  Des grabbed his helmet and
backpack. Elsie drove the bike away from the sector. Des held on tight as she sped down the street. Once they got away, they made some random turns to see if there was anyone following. After six random moves and speed changes, Des was confident they weren’t being followed.

  He still had an eye out for the black scooter. After Elsie lost him, Des hadn’t seen him. Without any way to communicate with Amy, he didn’t know if she was tracking the man or not.

  Des and Elsie made their way across the station and to their safe house. The trip took hours of hopping on and off the freeway. Then through the Yellow Sector to double back along the smaller side streets.

  As the day turned to night, Des and Elsie soared across the field toward the hideout. Instead of lowering the bike into the sanctuary, Des hid it in some bushes beside the hatch.

  The small room hideout looked like how they left it. Except being shown across all the walls were multiple camera views.

  “We’ve got them,” Des said. “At least I think I did.”

  Susan turned from staring at the image plastered wall. “Are you sure? I didn’t have an angle on the inside of the building.”

  “That’s not my fault,” Amy replied. “I was looking at a couple persons of interest, and I didn’t have any spare cycles left. But I have been recording it all so I can review it later.”

  “Is it the right building?” Des asked.

  “That’s a good question,” Elsie said, plopping on the couch.

  “I did better,” Amy replied. “I managed to get a Nanobot camera into the building.”

  “Only after I insisted,” Susan said.

  “They may have detected it.”

  “They didn’t,” Susan replied.

  “Is it the right building?” Des repeated, eager to rescue his brother.

  “There are many people in this building,” Amy said. “I have full files on each. However, there are two I can’t find information on.”

  “Can you show us?” Des asked.

  Amy put a couple images on the projections on the wall. Des recognized both men, one more than the other.

  “The first one is a classmate in my spy class and goes by the alias Veer Roberts,” Des said. “I’m not sure of the second person’s alias. But he’s the enemy.”