Cabal of Lies

by Michael Anderle

  “Guess they decided to up their game,” Erik mused.

  The detectives exchanged glances.

  “This isn’t enough evidence for a raid,” Erik concluded, “but enough to stop by and ask questions. It might have been that Victor decided to go off and escalate their crusade by himself. Even if they think it’s okay to go after people, they might realize it’s a bad idea to go after a cop. If one of them folds, they can tell us what all the coded poetry crap means.”

  “We should pay them a visit in person,” Jia suggested. “It’ll add more pressure and remind them that we can find them. They’ve got to be nervous after what happened with Victor, one way or another.”

  Erik spun toward the door with a grunt. “Send us the addresses, Malcolm. We’ve got interviews to conduct.”

  The detectives tromped down the narrow hallway leading to the first location on the list, an apartment owned by one Helena Cortez.

  Erik had changed the color of the MX 60 to an unassuming gray and parked at the far end of the visitor’s platform. Their police status granted them access to the building without trouble.

  They didn’t run into anyone upon entry, in the elevator, or in the halls leading to the apartment, which further simplified the visit.

  “We don’t have enough evidence for raids, but we have enough to be suspicious,” Erik commented.

  “What if she tries to blow us up?” Jia asked. “We’re too far from your flitter for Emma’s sensors to help us. How will we even know if she’s about to try?”

  “We’ve got walls to hide behind this time,” Erik suggested. “If they were ready for another attack right away, I think they would have sent them all after me at once, or other targets, assuming I’m not the only one. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but they had no way to know where we were heading next, and I can’t imagine that every last one of them has a bomb ready.”

  Jia looked around before leaning closer to whisper to her partner, “You think this could be the conspiracy? No one attempted to bomb me. That might explain it.”

  Erik looked around the hall. “Maybe, but it doesn’t feel right.” He thought for a moment. “It’s hard when so many different people want to kill you.”

  Jia nodded. “I suppose you’re right. The conspiracy has gotten more sophisticated, even when using proxies, but this clumsy amateur coming after you and failing, then leaving a trail, feels like… I don’t know.”

  Erik chuckled. “Regular old crime?”

  She nodded slowly. “That’s it. Sometimes I have to remind myself that everything isn’t connected, and most of what we do is just cleaning up after people who got greedy or stupid for totally normal reasons.”

  Erik turned away from Jia as they closed on Cortez’s door. His hand shot to his gun. A bloody handprint covered the access panel.

  “Not an auspicious start to our interviews.” Jia tapped her PNIU. “Miss Cortez, this is the NSCPD. Are you in distress?”

  “Emma,” Erik murmured, “any recent calls going into nearby emergency services mention this address?”

  “No, Detective,” Emma replied. “There are no emergency services or police units being dispatched to anywhere close in this area. Should I hack the local camera grid?”

  “Not yet. Don’t want to leave a trail of our own, and we don’t know what’s happening yet.”

  Jia pounded on the door. “Miss Cortez, this is the NSCPD,” she yelled. “Please open your door immediately.”

  Erik drew his gun. “It’s a damned bloody handprint on the door of a place connected to an attempted murder of a police officer. I’m sure they have a picture of this in some book explaining probable cause. Emma, prepare to send the police override on my signal.”

  Jia yanked out her stun pistol and pointed it forward and down. “I hope this doesn’t end with an explosion.”

  “With our luck, I’d give it fifty-fifty.” Erik took a deep breath. “Emma, do it.”

  The door slid open.

  “NSCPD!” Erik shouted. “On the floor, hands on your head.”

  A trail of fresh bloodstains led from the front door into the living room. A small table had been overturned, but the other furniture was undamaged, including a long white couch that had escaped any blood.

  That was odd.

  Erik and Jia rushed into the apartment, sweeping their weapons in opposite directions for targets. They crept toward either side of the couch, jerking behind it at the same time.

  There was no one hiding there.

  “The hell?” Erik whispered.

  Erik inclined his head toward the blood trail leading into the bedroom. The detectives continued toward the door, where Erik took up position on the side, keeping his breathing shallow. Jia reached out to touch the access panel. Unlike the front door, there was no bloodstain.

  The door slid open, and Erik pointed his weapon. Helena Cortez lay on her back on top of her unmade bed. Blood soaked the sheets, and there was a small gray knife sticking out of her heart.

  “Emma?” Erik asked, circling the bed toward Helena. Assuming she was dead might end with a surprise attack. A man could never know when a suspect might be a deadly cyborg or a genetically engineered monster not stopped by the small inconvenience of a knife to the heart.

  “No cardiac activity detected,” Emma reported. “But since you moved closer, her PNIU is now transmitting an emergency message.”

  Jia frowned and spun. There was no surprise attacker. She licked her lips, her eyes darting back and forth.

  “Play the message,” Erik ordered.

  A standing hologram of Helena Cortez appeared near the bed, grimacing and breathing hard. The knife was in her chest. Her arms hung loosely from her side.

  “If you’re seeing this, I’m already dead,” Helena’s hologram explained, her voice shaking. “I thought about doing things a less painful way, but I figured I should face my end with some sort of bravery. I wanted to show the Inner Friends I wasn’t afraid, and that I wasn’t refusing because I’m a coward. Know that I died for the cause of protecting humanity’s purity, but I didn’t want to sacrifice my morals. I wish I could have been brave like Victor, but I couldn’t bring myself to do what he did. There’s too much chance I might hurt someone innocent, and then we’d be no better than the people we’re fighting against. I don’t care what the Inner Friends say, there has to be a better way of doing things than becoming killers and terrorists. Even Tin Men can be saved.” She coughed up blood. “I don’t have much time now. I know someone will find me soon.”

  The hologram vanished.

  “Damn it.” Erik holstered his gun. “We’re too late. I wonder if the entire group is dead already.”

  Jia shook her head. “Emma, contact Dispatch and have them send officers to the third location. We’ll check on the second. Even if Helena Cortez decided to take herself out, that doesn’t mean others did.” She ran toward the front door. “And have them send officers over here to secure this scene.”

  “I was wrong.” Erik jogged after his partner. “It smells like Victor was just the first wave. There are more of these bastards out there.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about.” Jia entered the hallway. “You were attacked by one man. If these Inner Friends are commanding their followers to commit acts of violence, where’s the rest of it? They might be approaching targets at this very moment, but we can’t put all of Neo SoCal on alert and tell them to be suspicious of everybody. Plus, we only have these three addresses, not a complete list of everyone in the group.”

  “Close the door, Emma.” Erik sped up, his heavy boots thudding hard on the floor as he ran down the hallway. “I think we still have an advantage. Victor screwed up. We might have messed up their entire plan.”

  “Killing one cop, even you, isn’t going to make or break an entire terrorist attack.”

  “Depends on what the overall plan for the attack is.” Erik shook his head. “The problem is we just don’t know yet. Let’s hope we still have someone bre
athing we can interrogate at the next place. Emma, get us some patrol units as backup.”

  “And if we don’t find anything but another body?” Jia asked.

  “There are worse things in the galaxy than a bunch of wannabe terrorists who took themselves out before pulling off their attack.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Erik scoffed as they descended toward the front parking platform at the second address.

  Unlike the modest apartment of Helena Cortez, this was a detached single-story home that joined others in a luxury residential level composed entirely of similar lots.

  While it wasn’t a mansion, it was nestled in an expansive lawn, with a few trees scattered here and there. A high, elaborate hedge maze blocked most of the front.

  Several patrol flitters trailed behind the MX 60, a police show of force. Being able to depend on the rest of the department made things much easier. Erik and Jia had come a long way since their first case together.

  “I’m detecting multiple people in the maze,” Emma reported. “They appear to be armed.”

  “And not lying down?” Jia confirmed. “They might have shot themselves.”

  “No, they all appear to be crouching, and actively shifting position, subtly.”

  “They must have known we checked the other place, or we got lucky,” Erik suggested.

  Jia looked his way with a confused expression. “Isn’t this more like being unlucky?”

  Erik grinned. “Nope. It means we’ll have to check fewer places.”

  “Incoming lucky gunfire,” Emma reported.

  Erik shoved the yoke forward, and the MX 60 dove toward the platform. Bullets bounced off the side of the flitter as volleys erupted from the hedge maze, riddling the descending patrol flitters. One vehicle’s grav emitters sparked.

  “Damn it.” Erik gritted his teeth. “All other flitters back off until we neutralize the shooters,” he ordered and shook his head. “I forget they can’t take everything we can.”

  The other police vehicles peeled away under fire. A few more took rounds, but all were able to maintain altitude despite the damage.

  The MX 60 settled on the platform. Bullets ripped from the maze and slammed into it, a near-constant drumbeat against the side of the flitter. The extremists were putting up a fight.

  Jia reached into the back to retrieve their vests, an annoyed look on her face as she handed Erik his. “These idiots have to realize that even if they manage to take down a flitter or two, that’s not going to save them from the police. Shooting at multiple officers guarantees they’re going to be in major trouble.”

  “Fanatics never know when to quit.” Erik took his vest. “That’s what makes them fanatics.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” Jia finished donning her vest and leaned over to recover the TR-7 from its storage compartment. She looked up as if she were choosing between duck or chicken. “Unless you prefer something larger for tonight’s engagement?”

  Erik grabbed the rifle and shook his head. “We need to take some of these guys alive. There’s more of a chance if I use this on single-barrel mode versus blasting them with the laser rifle.”

  Jia reached into a compartment in the back and recovered a couple of stun grenades. “These might be handy.”

  “Not as fun, but yeah.”

  The Purists in the maze didn’t cease fire. They continued to blast away at the MX 60. The attacks had ripped patchy holes through the plants, revealing the locations of some of the shooters, but others were managing to fire with only a momentary rustle and flash.

  Erik didn’t mind. They weren’t hurting him, and the same porousness that was allowing them to fire without trouble would mean they could take bullets in the counterattack.

  “Launch some drones, Emma,” Erik ordered. “Between the drones and the sensors, we might be able to take a lot of these bastards alive.”

  The trunk popped open. With a whir and a hum, most of the surviving small drones Erik had purchased on the moon emerged as a squadron. Purist gunfire shredded a couple before they escaped into the sky. The rest scattered, jinking back and forth under Emma’s control and surviving the initial fusillade.

  Erik finished retrieving magazines before opening his door and hopping out. “You better come out this way, Jia.”

  Bullets bounced off the reinforced passenger-side window as if to reinforce his point.

  “I know we need to take some alive, but they’re making it really, really annoying,” Jia complained as she crawled into the driver’s seat.

  “Yeah, psycho extremists are like that.” Erik slapped a fresh magazine in and selected single-fire mode. “Emma, set us up for victory.”

  The drones spread out, making it even easier for them to dodge with erratic changes in direction and altitude. Several clear target silhouettes appeared in Jia’s lenses, and she took a deep breath before climbing out and sidling toward the back of the MX 60. Additional silhouettes popped up in the house.

  Red and blue lights flashed from the police flitters circling the area, all of which were staying out of the effective range of the suspects’ weapons. Jia frowned. The police department might have accepted they needed to fight corruption, but other than the TPST units, no one bothered with the basic equipment they might need in serious encounters. It was like the entire NSCPD still wanted to pretend on some level that deadly criminals were rare. Perhaps they were compared to a year ago, but that didn’t keep the officers any safer.

  “A half-dozen targets in the maze,” Jia considered, “and more in the house.”

  “We can’t wait for TPST,” Erik insisted. “Some of these freaks might decide to Cortez themselves. This might not be their last stand, and from what Malcolm told us, they have bosses. Those are the bastards we really need to catch.”

  Jia drew her slug-thrower. “No way I’ll get good stun shots off in this situation.” She lifted one of the grenades. “On the other hand, the hedge will only protect them so much.” She primed it, looked into her HUD, and tossed the grenade.

  The shooters scattered, but two collapsed, victims of the grenade. Erik took the opportunity to pop up from behind the MX 60 and open fire. His bullets ripped through the hedge and through a man’s shoulder. Another quick shot nailed a second man in the leg. He ducked as two active shooters returned fire.

  “All units, surround the house,” Erik ordered. “We’ve got the shooters all but contained.”

  The police flitters broke away from their circling path and headed toward the house. Erik captured the attention of the maze shooters with quick shots as Jia hurled the other stun grenade. Two shrieks joined the loud buzz of the grenade, and the victims collapsed.

  Erik and Jia jumped up from their cover and rushed toward the opening in the maze.

  Emma provided helpful arrows that led them to the suspects. The detectives bypassed the stunned men and women to find the wounded and kick their rifles away from them before kneeling to bind their hands. After that, they bound those who were unwounded but stunned. Each of the suspects wore a small silver pendant with a lightning bolt through a double helix.

  Erik nodded at a pendant. “That must be the mark of their top-level flunkies.”

  “Let’s finish cleaning up. We can worry about that later.” Jia sprinted through the maze, relying on Emma’s navigation markers to help her quickly clear it. She emerged less than a minute later out the back, Erik right behind her.

  The silhouettes of the remaining suspects converged near the front of the house. Erik and Jia aimed their weapons at them. The doors opened, and a gaggle of men and women emerged, the sunlight glinting off the pendants around their necks. They all carried rifles but dropped them and raised their arms before advancing slowly.

  “Be cautious, Detectives,” Emma warned. “I’m detecting unusual signatures in the lawn near the building. There are possible mines.”

  “On your knees!” Jia shouted. “Or we will use lethal force.”

  The suspects broke into zigzagging sprint
s in different directions. Jia frowned, hesitating. She had warned them, but they were unarmed, and gunning down an unarmed suspect didn’t sit well with her, nor apparently Erik since he hadn’t opened fire. Several uniformed officers ran from the sides of the house, their stun pistols ready.

  “Everyone stay the hell away,” Erik shouted. “They’ve mined the lawn!”

  Explosions ripped up the ground, launching the officers into the air with yells. They landed in heaps, groaning and bleeding.

  “Unusual energy signatures detected in three of the remaining suspects,” Emma reported. “There is a high probability they are bombers.” She shifted the color of their silhouettes to bright orange to highlight them.

  The bombers advanced toward Erik and Jia, their comrades serving as human shields. Helena Cortez’s crisis of conscience apparently didn’t afflict the rest of the Friends of Purity.

  Jia ran to the side, slamming her slug-thrower into her holster and pulling her stun pistol. She pulled the trigger as quickly as she could manage. The human shields pitched forward, but the bombers yanked them back and continued to advance, albeit slower. One bomber turned toward some of the wounded and downed officers.

  “Not much choice now,” Erik muttered.

  He flipped to four-barrel mode and fired at a bomber clinging to an allied meat shield. The first man twitched, his muscles rigid from Jia’s earlier stun shots. The bullets ripped through him and pierced the bomber behind him, but the odd example of mutual group support continued to advance. Erik held down the trigger and produced a stream of lead that didn’t cease until his magazine went dry. The bullets shredded both men, who collapsed to the ground in bloody heaps. Another active Purist tried to yank the bomber up, but Erik downed him with a knee shot.