Daria 4

by Martin E. Silenus

  “Did you get the video and audio alright Muther? I inquire.

  “That’s affirmative; we have eyes and ears on him, and can track him with the fly drone.”

  “Those insect drones are turning out to be a damn site more useful that I would ever have thought.” I grinned.

  “Particularly so as they can track his DNA. So we are gold unless he decides to make a spacewalk.” replies Muther.

  It takes about an hour for the Pastor to get good and scared. He is feeling very alone as he cannot contact any of his gang members, all of which makes him all the more spooked. We’re sure he is going to check on his merchandize it’s just a question of when. We want to make sure we are there when he does and catch him in the act. I’m sure this sick fuck is “helping his troubled youth” by directing them into the prostitution business for Fat Art and collecting a healthy finder’s fee. My suspicions include that the “Pastor” is the feeder system for young boy prostitution for Fat Art’s clients that prefer ass fucking young troubled boys.

  “Matt,”

  “Ya Muther,”

  “The Pastor has left the church via the back way and is headed down to a warehouse storage area.”

  “Excellent, I’ll get my suit on and follow him cloaked, feed the trace to me please.”

  “It’s ready when you are.”

  I have to hustle to catch up to our good Pastor as he is moving fast and is close to full panic. Frosty, Mike and the Police Chief are also tracking the Pastor to coordinate the arrest. He gets off a lift on a lower numeric level and heads out on one of the arms into the warehouse area. I’m close on him now as it is not all that well lit in this area as there is nothing here but huge stacks of sea containers of goods and merchandise.

  Chapter 14: Shall We Dance

  “Matt”

  “Yeah Frosty”

  “Old Freddie says he has heard talk of a “Death Combat Arena” in this warehouse.”

  “Death combat?”

  “Yeah, the girls at the stripper club know about it, say it is a very nasty business that was part of Fat Art’s recreational pursuits.”

  “Don’t tell me, you could bet on which of the combatants would win.”

  “Got it in one, and the Hybrids were there to make sure it all happened according to Fat Art’s plans.”

  “Thanks for the info. This is looking more and more like a firefight with multiple players. You keep the folks back and let Beast and I take care of this, just ensure no one gets out of this area.”

  “Got it Matt, good hunting.”

  “Muther”

  “Ya Matt”

  “Can you instruct the Drone Fly to map the positions of the players in this area and feed the data to me?”

  “Coming up on your screen now, and Beast should have the data also.”

  “I have it, thanks,” xmits Beast, as I arrive at his position. Beast is clad in body armor, and wearing the mini-rocket pack, complete with electronics sensor package.

  “Looks like you have a ring side seat Beast, what’s your tactical assessment?”

  “We have a Sea-Can with thirteen young teenage boys that don’t seem to be in very good shape, guarded by a pair of big green ugly Hybrids. We also have three of the Station Police members armed, including additional Hybrids, in sniper over watch positions amongst the stacked Sea-Cans, some Autonomous Sentry Gun Units and last but not least we have our preacher man hysterically waving a handgun around threatening to shoot everyone and anything.”

  “We need to ensure the teenage prisoners are not hurt, keep the preacher alive so we can interrogate him inside out, just damage and incapacitate the corrupt cops as we need to chat with them too, and kill the hybrids out-right.”

  “Got it Boss, let’s talk strategy.”

  “You feel like climbing around through the Sea-Cans and neutralizing the snipers?”

  “Yes sir I do, and I am particularly motivated to kill the green ones as I haven’t killed anything for quite some time and I’m well over due and more than a bit antsy.”

  “Excellent, I’m going to get into position so that I can shoot the two Hybrids guarding the boys, and keep an eye on our terrified preacher man.”

  “Just give me the word when you are ready.”

  “Muther, you have any additional intel?”

  “Expect any door to be booby trapped, this is a dirty guerrilla engagement, and watch for the UA 571-C Autonomous Sentry Gun Units, step into their beam and they will cut you in half.”

  “Roger that, how are they equipped, can we evade detection?”

  “Set-up with 1000 round drums, small arc sweep, cooled infrared detector, ambient light optics, an ultrasonic motion tracker and a LIDAR, move very slow and you should avoid detection”

  “Jesus, should avoid detection?”

  “Have I been wrong yet human?”

  There is only one chokepoint walkway into this area, so you have to know the walkway is a killing zone both by snipers, and the Autonomous Sentry Gun Units. The walkway is some hundred yards long then there is a wall of Sea-Cans rising up forty feet into the darkness. It’s very poorly lit and there are deep shadows everywhere a sniper or weapons turret could be setup. There will be at least one Hybrid at the end of the walkway, maybe more guarding the entrance into a Sea-Can that will be used as a tunnel to get into the open combat ring area. The tunnel through the Sea-Can is another choke point and will be booby trapped for sure. The combat ring area will be over watched by as many snipers as they have. So nobody goes into the ring until all of them are disposed of.

  “Muther can you bring the drone down and check the walkway for ASGU’s?”

  Yup, it’s in position and ready when you are.”

  “Beast you take the right side of the walkway and I’ll take the left, your cloaking working alright?”

  “Just dandy Boss, ready when you are.”

  “Ok, here we go...”

  We are cloaked, Muther feeding us intel from the Fly, scanners turned up as high as they will go, and I have never felt so goddamned naked in my life as when we start down that cursed walk way. Thirty yards in I get a red alarm and a pulsing red spot on my visor screen on the second row up of Sea-Cans on my right.

  “That’s an Autonomous Sentry Gun Unit”, says Muther

  A five round blip of gunfire from the ASG Unit, pause, another five round blip, searching, it knows we are there but cannot sight us clearly.

  “You ok Boss, I can’t see it, I’m right under it.” xmits Beast

  “Roger, it never got closer than 2 feet to me, I have it.”

  Crouched, I carefully turn toward the red spot on my visor and bring the pulse rifle up so I can see through the scope, yeah there’s the sensor head of the unit, I get the crosshairs on the unit and touch the trigger, Plop, says my rifle, the sensor head shatters, the red threat spot on my screen goes out.

  Another twenty yards, slowly, softly, a second alarm and red spot. This one is above me. A single shot clangs into the Sea-Can beside Beast. The Hybrid can’t get an exact position either.

  “Got a Hybrid directly over your head Boss”, xmits Beast

  “Can you get a shot at him with your rockets?”

  “Oh yah, he’s dead meat.”

  A quick vicious whoosh, thump, strangled scream and the body of a Hybrid crashes down on the floor beside me.

  “Nice shot Beast.”

  A second AS Gun Unit detects the movement and fires an extended “burrrppp” into the remains of the alien.

  We are at seventy-five yards along the walkway and three alarm red spots jump to attention on my helmet visor. We are looking directly at a second AS Gun Unit, and there is a Hybrid on the upper left second row of Sea-Cans and one of the crooked cops on the upper right.

  The ASGU opens up with continuous roar of gunfire, sweeping the walkway. We are prone on the floor; the bullets go over our heads.

  “Beast, can you take out the Hybrid on my mark, and I’ll kill the weapons turret and wound the
dirty cop,”

  “On your Mark Boss”

  I get the cross hairs on the sensor head of the ASGU, “Plop”, shattered. Re-sight the scope onto the shoulder of the kneeling cop.

  “Mark”

  Beast’s nasty rocket whooshes off and impacts the Hybrid dead center, thump, green goo and body parts tumble down onto the floor. Plop says the plasma rifle and the cop screams and falls off the ledge and thumps onto the floor. He’s not dead, but he’s no longer a player.

  “Ok Beast, good work, you ready to climb up and prowl in the Sea-Can stack and give the snipers a very bad day?”

  “Oh yeah, for sure, see you in a bit.”

  I consider the Sea-Can at the end of the walkway. Now if it was me I would booby trap the doorway with a couple of M18A1 directional Claymore mines. Easy to set up and utterly devastating, filled with plastic explosives and 700 ball bearings. When some fool opens the doors and triggers them they simply shred whatever they are aimed at into red jam. Just a perfect device for booby traps. Then I would place an Autonomous Sentry Gun Unit at the other end of the Sea-Can that would open fire as soon as the next wave of idiots decided to step over the bodies and try to enter. Utter mayhem and carnage would result, extremely effective.

  My chemical scanners indicate the presence of explosives on the other side of the steel doors of the Sea-Can. I can’t just explode the booby trap as I have no place to take cover, and if they do have an Autonomous Sentry Gun Unit inside the Sea-Can I still cannot get through the tunnel into the combat arena. I have to climb the Sea-Can stack and get in from the other side.

  “Muther can you give me some eyes with the Fly on how I climb up and around this Sea-Can stack?”

  “Roger, I’ll give you the direct feed from the Fly and you can decide where you climb.”

  It takes me a few minutes but I find a path and work my way up to the top of the stack. I’m very close to the ceiling beams now and can actually use them to move along over the stack. I can see the remains of Beast’s hunting efforts. He has done well as there are dead torn up Hybrids all over the place, there’s far more than we expected.

  I’m on a roof support beam over the open combat area. Down below I can see the preacher man dashing around in a state of panic. And I can get a bead on the two Hybrids guarding the Sea-Can of teenagers.

  “What’s your status Beast?”

  With a scream one of the dirty cops falls out of a Sea Can and drops thirty feet to the floor.

  “Enjoying myself immensely, but I have a cop holed up on the fourth level that I cannot get to or get a shot at from my position. This sniper here.” xmits Beast as a red dot shows on my visor.

  “Yeah I can get him, he’s not counting on being sniped from above and is focused on what’s happening below.”

  I wiggle around and get the scope on him, the cop is in a kneeling position resting the rifle on his knee, I don’t want to kill him, as Mike and the Police Chief will want a chat, so I set the crosshair on his crotch, Plop, he’s screaming and flopping around holding his bloody crotch, his rifle falls out and drops to the floor

  “Have we got all the dirty cops Beast?”

  “Yup, all present and accounted for and not dead either.”

  “Ok, can you make your way down to the ground level and get ready to take down the preacher asshole? I’m going to snipe the Hybrids but I don’t want the crazy preacher machine gunning the teenagers in the Sea-Can or attempting to hold them hostage.”

  “On my way Boss”

  “Frosty, you got that frequency generator handy?”

  “Yup right here”

  “When Beast reaches the floor I want you to turn on the frequency generator to scramble the last two Hybrids so I can shoot them both while Beast takes out the preacher man.”

  “Roger that”

  “I’m on the floor”, xmits Beast

  Instantly I can feel and hear the vibrations of the frequency generator. The Hybrids begin to stagger, I sight on the first one and Plop, explode his head, switch to the second one as he struggles with his weapon and Plop, blow his head up also. The preacher man is screaming in terror and I see him get thrown ass over tea kettle and his weapon goes flying as Beast tackles him, and then he is pinned to floor like he has been nailed down.

  I keep the frequency generator running while I make my way down off the roof beam and down four layers of Sea-Cans just in case we missed a Hybrid that could still snipe at us. No shots are forth coming and I cannot see any sniper positions that Beast or I have not visited.

  “Ok Frosty, you can kill the frequency generator. But stay out of the walkway as I have to dispose of some booby traps.”

  “Roger that”

  Beast has the terrified preacher piece of shit face down on the floor and from the smell I gather the preacher has had the shit scared out of him. Every time the preacher moves Beast growls in his ear like the devil. Beast is thoroughly enjoying himself. Like a huge cat playing with a human rat.

  The Sea-Can is unlocked from this side and I very carefully check for explosives and booby traps before opening the door. Sure enough there is the Autonomous Sentry Gun Unit sighted toward the other entrance. I shoot the sensor head shattering it into pieces and rendering the ASGU useless. Then I move down the length of the Sea-Can to disarm the two Claymores’. I’m not sure whether I should be pleased or alarmed that I think like these murderous sons of bitches. Once disarmed and disabled I open the Sea-Can doors.

  “Ok Frosty, the site is secured, bring in the troops.”

  “Roger that”

  Over at the Sea-Can where the kids are being kept I check for explosives and finding none I open the door. Thirteen malnourished dirty smelly kids look up and see nothing. I de-cloak and scare the hell out of them.

  “It’s ok guys, you’re safe now, we’ve come to get you out of this hell hole.”

  Frosty, Mike, and the Station Police come into the Combat Arena along with medics and anti-gravity stretchers. A lot of the kids are crying and hugging one another. Sadly I notice that there are some stragglers slumped in the back corners that are not moving. They have no life signs when I approach them.

  Big Mike is looking shocked, pale and sick.

  “Fuck me, I cannot believe the extent of what has been going on under my nose for years, and would be continuing if it wasn’t for you guys.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself Mike, you caught this long before most CEO’s would have.” says Frosty.

  Chapter 15: Tidy Up

  We ran Pastor B. Washington through the interrogation process. Then the three dirty cops and cross check them with what we know from Fat Art’s interrogation facts. It looks tidy, all the corners are pinned down. We even know where the buyers are for the intended shipments of male and females for prostitution are destined. Mostly all are Giant Mining Firms executives. Mike and the Chief of Station Police handle the video calls to the prospective clients advising them the goods are not coming and encouraging the executives to not bother looking at the Trade Station again for such services. Otherwise it would be very unfortunate if the media got ahold of such facts. Large Corporations, Mining Corporations included, are quite sensitive about the public image. It would be very unhealthy and bad for optics if such activities by the executive staff came to public attention.

  D, Frosty, Mike, the Police Chief, and I have a review and discussion on the fate of our prisoners.

  “I always had this sense that there was something more to Fat Art’s operation than what met the eye. He and his structure of criminals had their hands in a lot of illegal endeavors but I sensed we were missing the real financial generator. When D disappeared it started my mind thinking on Fat Art’s activities. When we did the external scans of the rest shacks and found the women, and in addition found more women in construction rest shacks on other levels, I knew we had found Fat Arts cash cow. He was conducting human trafficking for the purposes of prostitution. His interrogation finally provided clarity on the role of the church
and Washington.

  The sex replicants are only for the horny drunk blue collar workers. But there is a very rich healthy market for real women to high paying clients. Fat Arts criminal organization kidnaps the women and boys from all over earth, ships them up here and Fat Art sells them off to rich buyers. Why have a replicant prostitute when you can fuck, abuse, and torture a real live female/male prostitute and if they happen to die, well too bad, just dispose of the body and buy another one. That’s a hell of a perk for the Mining Corporation high end executives.

  The Trade Station is the jump off place for many rich clients. There is no competition as this is the only source so Fat Art can charge what he wants. He keeps a collection of Hybrid muscle around as they scare the hell out of would be competitors and keep his staff and the women and boys in line.

  We have shut this business line down and will take steps to ensure that his organizations back on earth will be educated on the change. We can keep it shut down here as Mike and Police will control the Port. But unfortunately human trafficking for purposes of prostitution will continue outside of the trade station and outside of our purview.” I conclude.

  D takes over the presentation:

  “At the very least I recommend that we keep the traumatized women and young men here until their health returns, then offer them safe passage back home to earth, or allow them to remain here and integrate into the staff of the Trade Station, and not by conducting prostitution. These women have never had an opportunity to be educated and learn even basic skill sets. So I see education, and employment opportunities are required to work at reasonable job in an area of their interest and try to live what might be called a normal life.

  I am expecting support and cooperation from you Mike to open some doors for these women and boys. Our team will work with them on education skills and trade skill development. Fat Art’s generous donation of the balance of his bank accounts will cover all expenses incurred to give these women and boys a chance at a safe, fulfilling life style.