by James H Roby
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Past Debts
Slash exited the stairwell metal fire door and peered through the open entrance facing north. He could see Pagani and his two men standing with hands up. If that didn’t paint the picture, alternating lights of blue and red flashed in rhythm beyond them. Behind him, Random and the disposables arrived at the first floor. Slash stepped back into the stairway. Random’s face was flushed and breathed heavy. Before he could catch his breath to shout a curse and an order, Slash held up a hand.
“Cops.”
Random nodded his understanding as he drank in a lungful of air. Slash inched the door open again. Through the crack he saw a pair of cops slapping cuffs on Pagani.
“Come on,” Slash whispered over his shoulder. “Cops are busy with Pagani and his bunch.”
He pushed the door open another inch, squatted down and moved silently to the left. He knew another door led to the alley. If they were quick, they could get out of the building before more cops showed up and locked the place down. He figured he was halfway across the lobby, and only a dozen feet from the door. He glanced back and only saw one of the duster wearing disposable tailing behind. Slash couldn’t stop to figure what held up Random and the other man. He was committed to his escape.
So long, Cody. Nice knowing ya…
Slash got to the door. It was one of six spread around the building. It had been unlocked just in case of an emergency. Well, this qualified. Slash looked back to the north entrance. A couple of cops, guns drawn, were coming in. One had his hand to his shoulder, keying his mike while the other looked away toward Woodward. It was just a matter of time before the cops turned the other way. Slash pushed open the door to the sunshine splashed alley. A mirthless grin lit his face. He looked back to the disposable who sported a mirrored smile. Slash turned back only to be struck hard and sent tumbling onto his backside.
He looked up - the Black guy he fought at the hospital filled the doorway. The man tossed away what looked like a sniper rifle and reached toward his left side. Slash got off the floor. No way would he get up in time to stop the man drawing what was no doubt a gun.
“Freeze! Police!”
Slash ignored the warning coming from behind. His window of opportunity to escape was closing fast. If he didn’t get past the guy in front of him, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. He saw something strange. The man got his gun out, but instead of pointing it at Slash, he aimed past him. Slash glanced quickly and in the space of a heartbeat, he understood.
The disposable was drawing on the police with his Mac-10 machine pistol, uncovered from the folds of his duster. The man in the door was drawing on him. The pistol flashed and the disposable pitched forward, a trail of flesh and blood leaping ahead of him from his forehead. Slash didn’t stop. In one motion, he leaned into the man blocking the door with his left shoulder and pulled out his prison made shiv from his belt with his right hand. He brought the knife upward into the man but he moved quickly – not quickly enough to keep from getting stabbed, but fast enough to prevent the blade from entering his stomach, Slash’s intended target.
The two men collided and the shiv went deep into the man’s chest. Slash pushed hard with his legs so as to move the man out of his way. Instead, he heard thunder impossibly close. He heard it again. Pain burned into his body and he knew he had been shot. An animal instinct took over and Slash twisted his knife. But before he could begin his rotation, more thunder sounded. Again and again. All strength left his body and Slash crashed hard to the floor. Life was leaving him but he took a final vision with him into the beyond. The man he stabbed fell next to him, blank eyes looking at nothing. Slash smiled and felt strangely satisfied. He had died as he had lived.
~
Jordan rolled around with Cody’s henchman, bouncing down a flight of stairs in a twist of arms and legs. He did his best to force the man to take most of the damage on the way down but all he could think about is what all this was doing to his suit. It was a legit concern – you just can’t take a three thousand dollar suit up to the corner cleaners.
At the first landing, Jordan’s opponent landed hard on the floor. Jordan literally stood on his chest and pushed off backward onto the wall. He pushed off again, having only lost a fraction of the energy they gathered on the way down. He used the energy to propel himself forward, foot first directly into the man’s face. The blow lifted the man to his knees, eyes swimming in his skull.
“Stay down!” Jordan shouted and delivered another kick to the head. The guard’s eyes rolled backwards, showing only the whites and he dropped to the floor. Jordan examined his suit.
“Hmph. Not too bad.”
He ran back up the stairs, scooping up his gun as he went. The door sailed open with a kick. Jordan paused at the threshold, sweeping the room with his P7M. Thomas still rolled around in his own blood. Pete and Cody’s other man was just as still as before. All the same, Jordan was vigilant. The huge window made the room as bright as outside and the bare pure white walls and floor reflected every single beam of light. Yet, the room was massive – it covered nearly the whole floor. And the row after row of lab equipment provided plenty of places to hide.
Jordan slowly marched across the room, the window to his back. He passed Thomas who reached out. Jordan danced out of his grasp, avoiding a bloody handprint on his pants.
Thomas looked up with tear rimmed eyes. His face drawn and ripped with pain.
“Help me…” The voice was aquiver and pathetic. Nothing like the man vowing vengeance and violence. Jordan knelt down.
“Help you?” He couldn’t even believe such a cry would come from the vain agent. “But you’re a Harvard man.”
Thomas swallowed hard and shut his eyes for a moment. After collecting himself, he said, “Come on, man…brother. Don’t be like that. Something for the pain…”
Jordan scoffed as he stood. “Here’s something for the pain, brother.” He reared back his left leg and kicked Thomas’s face with everything he had. Thomas’s head snapped back and came back down on the tile. Jordan saw the rise of his chest. Thomas wasn’t dead but he sure deserved it.
Jordan resumed his combat stance and moved on. He got about to the center when he saw the setup E-Man shot. He went to it – yup, it was toast. Jordan picked through the broken glass and bits of plastic once a microscope or something. A fine powdery yellow dust caked over all the pieces. The last of Cody’s crush. He’ll be back for this, Jordan figured. It was that or starting over. To be honest, Jordan couldn’t think where else Random could go to ply his wares. It all became moot as the stairwell doors on the opposite side of the room came open with a thud. Into the room spilt Random and one of his goons. Their eyes expanded as the shock of Jordan’s appearance registered in their brains.
“Well, shit,” Random said.
“Yeah,” Jordan answered. “Shit.”
As one, all three men drew down on their opponents and gunfire filled the air. Random had some pistol but the goon sported a FN P90 personal defense weapon spitting out rounds at fully automatic. Everything on the table between Jordan and his two targets exploded – glass and beakers, a continuous shrill of music in the highest octaves. Jordan continued to his left, toward the elevators while Random and his man went the other way. It wasn’t so much either party had a destination as much as they just were getting out of the way of all the flying lead. Jordan kept low putting as much of the tabletop between him and the P90. He was picking his shots and was mostly waiting for one sound in this orgy of noise and panic and smoke and fire. Finally, he heard it.
Click.
Jordan popped up to full height at the sound of the P90’s trigger pull on an empty magazine. He aimed his own weapon over the destroyed landscape the workbenches had become and fired twice. Twin rounds found their way into the gunman’s skull. Jordan switched to Random and saw Random’s gun on him.
Click.
Click.
It was almost funny – poetic really. N
o quick end to this affair.
Random sighed and dropped his shoulders in resignation. “Well,” Random said, “I guess we should get this over with.”
Calmly, they both walked to the empty space before the elevators. They came face to face a little over fifteen feet apart. An almost blue haze hung in the air after all the gunfire. It left behind a metallic taste. The pure white walls had spots and streaks of crimson. The scene was otherworldly – a nightmarish hellscape belonging nowhere, yet still very real. And if this was hell, Random was its devil. He rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, revealing the white shirt beneath.
“Nice suit.” Random pointed his chin at Jordan.
“Thanks. Thought you’d like it. You really should come over here and look at it.”
The two men grinned at each other without the hint of joy or humor. They came closer – circling like a pair of animals, looking for an opening…a weakness. A lot of running around, deceit and gunplay had led to this moment. Random coughed out a laugh and somehow Jordan got the joke.
“Seems like a lot of effort for nothing, huh?”
Random bounced his shoulders. “I still get to see you dead.”
“That ain’t happening, Cody. All you getting is an ass kicking today.”
Random nodded. “Perhaps. Still, having you running around. Chasing me. Trying somehow to transfer your rage at Kevin Small’s repeated and lustful fornication with the love of your-” Jordan held up his hand stopping the rant. Random’s face twisted in confusion and his head went to one side.
“Look,” Jordan said, “I know this is the part of the movie where you say something that sends me flying into a rage. The action music starts and I yell something and rush at you. But look, I’m plenty pissed at you now – and Kevin? He’s dead by, I’m pretty sure, your boy Agent Thomas there, so I think his fornication days are over.”
Random folded his arms across his chest. Only a handful of paces separated them now. “Ah, movie references. But of course, far be it from me to think you’ve read a book or something.” He sniffed and peer down his nose at Jordan. “Still, all the same, here we are. The classic battle of good,” he made a wild gesture at Jordan, “and evil.” He thumped his own chest. He wheeled in a bit closer. “The epic battle of two opposing forces,” his rant continued, “The forces of light, versus -”
Jordan punched him in the nose. His head flopped back and then forward. Random touched his nose and saw blood on his fingers. He nodded. “Alright then.”
The two launched at each other. Random swung wildly, mostly beating his opponent’s back. Jordan focused on getting in the right position. He got under Random’s arms and flipped the criminal over. Random landed with a whack, slapping the tile like an inverted belly flop. He scrambled to his feet and rushed again. Jordan sidestepped like a matador evading a charge. He dropped an elbow center on Random’s back and down he went again. Random popped up, though he wasn’t as quick to attack this time. Maybe it was sinking in Jordan’s promise of an ass kicking was not all bravado.
They circled again. Random did a stutter step to the left and came back with a right cross. Jordan reeled.
“Ha!” Random shouted but it just earned him a backhanded slap. Not enough to do more than shut him up. Jordan got his legs under him and squared off. He took a step back. A strange kind of clarity came over him. He didn’t know where it came from or how he was going to pull it off, he just took in the realization of what was going to happen next. “I’m going to kill you.”
Random’s lip bled a little. He threw his head back in defiance. “Oh, really. Do tell?”
Jordan dropped his arms. “Yeah. I mean, not because I hate you are anything like that. It’s just…” he blew out a deep breath. “you’re a piece of shit. I mean, all this. Because you set up your own brother to try and kill me. All this lying and killing and scheming…because you screwed over your brother. Robin, who didn’t deserve any of this, but Thomas and Small too.” Another huge exhale. “Sure, they were dumbasses, but it was just all some stupid plot because you’d blame me rather than take responsibility for your own actions.”
Random shook in rage. Each word Jordan spoke resulted in a very physical change. Clenched teeth. Balled fists. Knitted brows. Jordan wasn’t trying to manipulate Random into an action. He was tired and really only wanted to go home. Killing Random seemed like the quickest way to make it happen.
Cody Random charged, his hands like claws. Jordan was ready. He ducked down a little, his right arm exploded out, striking Random in the throat. His eyes expanded and a choking gasp left him as his gag reflex activated. Jordan’s left foot planted firm and the left uppercut flew, lifting Cody off his feet.
Shoryuken, indeed.
Random crumbled. Jordan stepped over to him straddling his downed foe. Random mumbled and babbled, the effects of his brain crashing into the roof of his skull. Jordan got him by the hair and pulled him to his knees. Standing behind Random, he wrapped his left arm around his throat. All that was left was the twist and Cody Random would be reunited with his brother.
But Jordan didn’t twist.
He could have. And maybe he should have. But the clarity had left him and to just twist the guy’s head off didn’t seem like a good idea anymore. No one would deny Random had it coming, but to be honest, it was just more trouble than it was worth. Jordan had shot and even killed a lot of people over the past few days. there would be hell to pay. He wondered if he should call his lawyer now.
Jordan realized he still held Random in the death grip. Cody’s arms flailed around in some hapless attempt to save his life. Jordan breathed a laugh. He opened his arms and Cody Random fell face forward. He lay on the floor, gurgling out every breath. He was done. Jordan stood and dropped his head. He saw the breast pocket of his jacket torn away and flapping freely.
“Son of a bitch!”
Jordan didn’t have long to ponder his next move to make his suit whole, as the elevator dinged. He knew he should make some defensive gesture but he was too tired. A pair of men in dark suits stepped out. The older one, with gray hair and narrow but worldly eyes took in the mess Premier Labs had been reduced to. His partner, a blond, put his hand to ear and spoke in hush tones.
“By order of the US government,” the older man said, “you are to disengage and surrender Cody Random to me.”
Jordan’s breathing was coming under control but he wasn’t one hundred percent just yet. He side eyed the pair and said the only thing he thought was appropriate at the moment.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Making It Right
More men came. From up the elevators – the stairs. Within fifteen minutes of the first two’s arrival, another dozen men roamed the office space of Premier Medical. Men. Agents. Operatives. Whatever. The older guy introduced himself as Smith. Jordan laughed in his face.
“We have the building secure,” Smith said. “No one in or out. Local law is handling the mess in the lobby, but other than that, we own the site.” His voice sounded like a bulldog, if it had the power of speech.
Jordan’s head moved around, not quite a nod. He knew enough about this world to know all he would get now is half-truths and flat out lies. He rolled his vision over to Cody. He was in an overstuffed chair near an elevator. Two agents, operatives, whatever, stood near, but not too near on either side, hands on close to their hips. Jordan blew hard, motorboating his lips.
“What about Thomas?” He knew a lie would be the answer, but Smith was close enough to human Jordan felt compelled to engage in some conversation.
“We’re taking him into custody.” The two men looked over at Thomas. A pair of Smith’s goons bodily lifted him off the floor. To his credit, Thomas had stopped crying and his face looked something which in certain situations could be defined as bold. He was between the men, an arm on each shoulder, dead legs dragging a trail through the broken glass and equipment littering the floor. The procession slid pass Jo
rdan and Smith without any acknowledgement on their way to the elevator.
“So, if this is over,” Jordan asked, “can I get my gun back?”
Smith’s cold steel gray eyes lit on Jordan. He went through this staring routine with Stiles – didn’t work then wasn’t gonna work with Smith. After he and his blond partner arrived, Smith ‘secured’ Jordan’s weapon as a part of taking over the building. Jordan wasn’t of a mind to resist, only because he had no intention to shoot these men. Still, if things were winding down, he’d like to get his property back.
“Those P7Ms ain’t easy to come by – especially the thirteen round magazine ones,” Jordan said.
Smith continued glaring as he snapped his fingers. Immediately, the blond came over and handed his apparent superior the weapon, who in turn, gave it to Jordan. Without thought, Jordan ejected the empty magazine, pulled a fresh one from his jacket and loaded it. He squeezed the weapon’s unique arming mechanism built into the grip with an audible snap. The noise brought all the men in the room to a halt, eyes all on Jordan. He rotated his head to others, finally stopping at Smith. The old man was drawing in each breath with a noticeable flair to his nostrils.