Mercer wasn’t part of the Inner-Sanctum, but he was unknowingly pliable whenever the need arose – usually with the aid of Reid. There was probably a time when it may have been prudent to recruit the captain, but he was about five years from retirement and they’d had Reid installed within the department when the woman had surfaced. If Reid had been more competent, they could have closed the case, dealt with the woman, and waited out the five years, before assigning the job to the hapless investigator, currently residing in one of the Proxy’s cells at NewHaven.
“You know her?” Hall asked, incredulous.
Mercer got up and walked to the window. He peered through blinds and gazed at his department, clearly in shock by this revelation. He closed the blinds and turned to face his subordinate, satisfied their conversation would be private. Marr smiled. The idiot had no idea he was being watched.
“Not intimately,” he said. “She worked in another department – missing persons. She ignored protocol and followed a lead without backup. It was the last anyone heard of her.”
“Where did her lead take her?”
“A disused warehouse. A team were sent down when she hadn’t clocked out. Her cruiser’s in-built tracking chip situated the vehicle not far from the warehouse’s security gate. When the team arrived, there was no cruiser.”
“Had the signal moved to another location?” Hall asked.
Mercer shook his head. “The signal mysteriously disappeared. It was like she’d stepped off the face of the earth.”
Hall drummed her fingernails on Mercer’s desk, thinking. “Was there a follow-up investigation? What about her family?”
Mercer returned to his desk. “She had a son.” Mercer paused, his lips twisting as though he’d just tasted something unpleasant. “His body turned up in an alley about a week after Moretti disappeared along with the remains of her burnt-out cruiser. The boy had been shot at point-blank range. We found the murder weapon down a nearby drain with Moretti’s fingerprints all over it. He was eight years old,” Mercer said, through gritted teeth.
Hall grimaced. “She killed her son? Why?”
“We’ll never know. I’d heard she’d had her problems. She had a tough childhood. Her mother died when she was really young, dad left not long after. Then it was years of various foster homes. Given the poor start in life, she buckled down. Got into the academy. As far as I know, she was a decent investigator.”
Hall leaned forward. “And that was it? No follow-up enquiry?”
Mercer shrugged. “It was an open and shut case as far as I’m aware,” he said. “I didn’t work it, but a buddy of mine did. Said it was horrific.” He rubbed his temples, then looked at Hall, a pained frown creasing his forehead. “How could a mother do that to her son? Once forensics had proved she’d killed the boy, nobody really cared where she was, so long as she stayed missing.”
“So, it was covered up?”
Mercer rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far, Hall.” He pointed a finger at her. “Don’t go looking for conspiracies where there are none.”
Hall held up her hands as though to assure her captain she wasn’t – Marr could see through the lie. “What do we do now?” she asked her captain.
“We need to report it to command, they’ll know how to proceed. I just can’t believe Alexandra Moretti is ‘the woman’.”
“And that creep… Banks?” Hall asked. This little bitch was going to be a pain in the ass, Marr thought.
“Mercer smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t mention it while that fucker was in the room. Banks and his cronies have got Reid locked up in their little hole at NewHaven. I didn’t like his derogatory comments aimed at the force. We’ll do this in-house.”
“And command? Are you going to call them now?” Hall asked.
Mercer shook his head. “No, I’ll schedule a meet. This needs to be done face to face. I’ll not have that fucking spook intercept any of our mail.”
Smart, Marr thought… almost.
“They can do that?” Hall asked, her naivety coming off her like Faulks’ cologne.
“I’m not entirely sure they can, but I’m not chancing it.”
“What do you want me to do in the meantime, sir?” she asked.
“Go home. You’ve done enough… more than enough, good work, Hall. I’ll call you after I’ve spoken to command. No doubt they’ll want a word with you…”
Marr switched the monitor off. He’d seen enough. He thought about calling Faulks, but after the way he’d handled Reid, he was better off dealing with this himself.
XXIII
Her eyelids fluttered. It was dark and her blurred vision came in hazy strips of grey. The only noise present in the gloom was a rasping sigh; she soon realised the sound resided from within her lungs, as her breath came in and out in strained wheezes.
She was standing on her tiptoes. She tried to return her feet to a standing position, but she found couldn’t. Her body felt restricted; fixed in place. The realisation brought on a momentary bout of panic; her instincts forcing her to fight against the restraint, as she couldn’t rest her feet flat on the ground. It soon dawned on her where she was. She must have slipped into unconsciousness again – she’d lost count how many times that had happened over the course of… was it days… weeks? She couldn’t be sure.
The roughcast metal, which bound her wrists together, rubbed her skin raw. The shackles – attached to the high ceiling by a thick length of chain – clinked from her movements from time to time. Blood had run down her arms, eventually drying so that it became uncomfortably tacky, pulling at the hairs whenever she made any sudden movements. Her eye throbbed, but it was an improvement to the intolerable agony she’d felt when the bleeders had removed it. The thought made her want to vomit; she could taste bitterness at the back of her throat and it took all of her will to suppress the gorge, threatening to rise.
When they had dragged her into the room of misery, kicking and screaming, the two bleeders – there were always two, she noticed – had been waiting for her; their sinister instruments laid out neatly on a linen cloth. They’d watched silently as she was beaten, then hoisted onto the chain. The thugs who’d dished out the abuse had jeered and mocked her as they’d left, finally leaving her alone with the bleeders. If she was being honest with herself, she’d found the bleeders’ silent indifference more unsettling than the maliciousness of her chaperones.
The bleeders had injected a serum which had rendered her immobile, but fully conscious. They’d stripped her of all her clothing; gently folding the rags of material in neat piles on a table on wheels. Then strangely, they’d washed her, using strips of wet cloth and cleaning alcohol. For some reason, she couldn’t explain why, but she had the absurd notion that her pain was over.
It couldn’t have been further from the truth.
They had waited until the effects of the serum had worn off before beginning. Despite the fact she was naked, there was no rape or verbal abuse. As she endured their torture, she’d quickly came to the conclusion she was naked because it provided them with a blank canvas, without random bits of clothing interfering with their task. They only saw her as a workstation, nothing more.
They asked her probing questions; questions she had no answers for. She told them as much; screaming over and over again as they sent thousands of volts through her body; made intricate cuts on specific areas of her body; manipulated nerve endings to maximise her agony, until she began to beg them to just get it over and done with… to kill her.
At least her blue-eyed boy was safe. It was the one thought that she still clung to – it was the only thing that kept her going.
She didn’t believe her torturers were human. They made no judgement on her wails and cries. They barely reacted when she’d pissed herself, or vomited – just made notes on a nearby scribe, then simply stopped what they were doing, cleaned her up, then resumed.
At one point she had even managed to find the strength to deal one of them a couple of kicks to the face
. The bleeder had grunted, staggering back clutching his nose. She struggled in her bonds, fully expecting him to do the natural thing and lash out. But he hadn’t. He’d quietly retired, returning sometime later – she couldn’t be sure how long – as though nothing had happened.
She hadn’t seen them in a while. Maybe they were just leaving her to die. She hoped they were, she didn’t know how much more she could take.
Her thoughts were answered as the quiet was disrupted by the sound of grating metal, followed by a bright light. She squinted, causing her to wince from the lance of pain which erupted in her empty eye socket. The bleeders were back, but they weren’t alone. They were accompanied by four men, dressed head to toe in black. Their faces were a blur, but she could make out a chuckle from one of them.
“Fuck me, you two weren’t kidding when you said you’d been thorough,” one of the men said. “Waste of a decent piece of ass.”
“We do not base ourselves with such primitive urges that provide us with nothing but wasted time. We performed our interrogation as was required,” one of the bleeders whispered.
“Almost nothing left for us to take to the boss.”
“She spoke the truth when questioned,” the bleeder said. “Our work is done; we shall leave her in your custody.”
The bleeders turned without another word and left her alone with the four men.
They unshackled her, dropping her to the ground like a lead weight. One of them drew close to her ear. She barely had the energy to lift her head, she was so weak. “The boss is waiting; he’s got a surprise for you…
~
Lex stared down at the shanty-town, leaning on the railing outside Brooks’ command station. She could feel the presence of the two guards, behind her; their eyes boring into her back. They’d been debating her decision to leave for twenty minutes. Voices rose in volume every so often – from an obvious disagreement in opinion, she surmised. It didn’t matter what they discussed, or what decision they finally came to.
She was leaving to finish what she had started.
One thing that troubled her though, was the revelation that Sapien-republic had saved her from a watery grave. She didn’t know whether she felt relief at them having saved her, or anger as they should have left her to expire – at least then she would be with her boy.
She pulled at a loose thread on the sleeve of the itchy boiler-suit. She would need her suit. She couldn’t wage her war against the Inner-Sanctum kitted out in a potato sack that was twenty years old if it were a day.
She was suddenly aware of being watched. Her senses were attuned to such things, like the pull of a magnet. She looked up. Leaning against the outer fence to the command centre was the little girl she’d seen earlier. She wore grubby looking pants, a little too short for her, and a shirt that was two sizes too big; the sleeves of which had been rolled up so much they looked like oversized bangles. She flinched for a moment, before slowly raising her hand. She waved at her. In spite of herself, Lex raised her own, returning the little girl’s greeting. She could feel a smile pulling at her face.
I can’t remember the last time I smiled.
A grin spread across the little girl’s mouth, which made her look both cute and mischievous. Lex took a step back from the railing and descended the steps, making her way cautiously towards the girl.
“Don’t wander out of our sight, not unless you want a bullet in the back,” a gruff voice called at her back.
“I’m quaking in my fucking boots,” she retorted waspishly, eliciting a snigger from the other guard and the little girl.
She stopped ten feet from the girl and knelt down so they were looking at each other eye to eye. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She held out both her hands, palms outstretched to let the little girl know she posed no threat. “What’s your name?”
The little girl’s expression twitched, uncertain about how to proceed. She glanced up at the two guards, then back at Lex, her body relaxing a little. “You’re her, aren’t you?” she said. “The one they call ‘the woman’.”
Lex slowly nodded her head in affirmation. “You can call me Lex.”
“Mother Joan says I’m not to go near you… because you’re dangerous.”
Lex narrowed her eyes. “Mother Joan’s right; I am dangerous. But here you are… now… only a few yards away. Why have you not listened to your mother’s council?” Lex asked playfully, raising an eyebrow. She gave her a wry smile.
I haven’t spoken to a child in a very long time.
“She’s not my real mother. My real mother died when I was very little. Mother Joan looks after the orphans.”
Lex gave her a sympathetic smile. “I see. I’m sorry about your mother.”
The girl shrugged. “It’s okay. I don’t really remember her… I know she was nice… and kind.”
“Do you think Mother Joan would like you speaking to a dangerous person?”
The girl looked Lex up and down, trying to make her mind up. She raised an eyebrow, apparently coming to her own conclusion. Lex decided she liked this little girl. “I think you only hurt the bad men, above us in Sanctum-One. Besides, you don’t look so scary up close.”
Lex’s expression was sceptical. “Are you sure? You ran away from me earlier today.”
The girl blushed. “I wasn’t scared, I was being cautious,” she declared, attempting to soothe her embarrassment.
“A wise move, you don’t know me from Eve.”
The girl squinted in confusion. “I don’t know anyone called Eve.”
Lex chuckled, finding the act almost foreign. “No… it means… never mind. What’s your name? I’ve told you mine, I think it only fair you give me yours.”
Does my laugh really sound like that?
“Kat, my name is Kat. It’s short for Katrina,” she said, her chest swelling with pride.
“Well, pleased to meet you, Kat.”
“What happened to your eye?” Kat asked, pointing at Lex’s eyepatch. Children never ceased to amaze her with their ability to call out a curiosity, regardless of social protocol.
Lex reached up and touched the eyepatch, feeling a little sad. “Bad men took it,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. She could feel tears begin to well up in her eyes, which she quickly rubbed away. Kat didn’t seem to notice as she was still appraising her.
Kat’s lips curled in disgust. “Bad men from above? The ones who wear the masks?”
The little girl’s knowledge of the bleeders took her by surprise – she found it unsettling. The bleeders were barely known above ground, let alone in an underground community. She thought, at least, the children down here would be kept in the dark from the knowledge of those monsters who plied their trade in torture and misery.
“How do you know of them?” she asked.
“I heard Brooks talk about them with the doctor. I think that’s why he doesn’t let the children venture up into Sanctum-One.”
“Brooks is right,” she said.
Kat pointed to her eye. “I think the patch makes you look cool,” Kat said, nodding.
Before she could answer, the doors to the command centre opened. The two of them glanced in its direction.
“Off with you, Kat. Mother Joan wouldn’t like it if I told her you were hanging around command again,” Brooks said. His tone suggested he was being stern, but from his jovial expression, she knew he wasn’t particularly annoyed with the girl. Lex sensed the hint of affection in his voice.
Lex turned to face Kat, but she had disappeared. He smiled as he descended the steps and approached her. “I’m sorry that took so long. We had much to discuss.”
Lex raised herself to her feet. “What difference does it make? I’m still leaving.”
“I don’t think we could keep you here, no matter how much we’d like that. As I’ve said, we could make ourselves a formidable partnership.”
Lex remained silent. Brooks gazed down at her ill-fitting garment. “That reminds me, the d
octor had your suit mended; he also made some improvements. He’s just gone to fetch it.” His gaze focused beyond her, towards his community. “While we wait, would you indulge me if I give you a quick tour of the compound?”
He walked past her without waiting for a reply. Lex rolled her eyes and followed, but her gaze lingered on the spot where Kat had stood not moments before.
XXIV
The Halls of Truth was situated deep within the bowels of NewHaven’s lesser-known locations; a dark, restricted, sinister warren of cold corridors, interrogation rooms, and surgical laboratories which held a constant aroma of chemicals and disinfectant. If the bleeders ever saw themselves as human – with the same base notions of what it meant to be alive – they would call this hive of misery home. What added to the secrecy of this particular part of NewHaven, was the fact the area had been wiped from the building’s schematics. As far as Sanctum-One was concerned, the place simply didn’t exist.
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