by K. C. Sivils
“Yes, Major.
Kilgore turned to face the still standing general. “Don’t think for one instant I’m bluffing General. What’s more, you’re Army. Don’t forget SPs are part of the Corps. They’d love nothing better than to rough up an Army officer.”
Savier glanced at the expressions of Kilgore’s four SPs. There was no doubt in her mind where their loyalty lay. Nor did Savier doubt they hoped she would give them a reason, any reason, to settle a score between the Army and the Space Marines.
---
It always amused Markeson that women snored. He stretched and got out of bed. As he dressed, Markeson kept an eye on the sleeping red head. For a Colonel in Military Intelligence, she was a loose cannon. It was far too easy to get information out of her. He hadn’t even had to get her drunk.
He checked himself in the mirror, straightened his tie and combed his hair. Having restored himself to an immaculate appearance, Markeson slipped out of the room. Minutes later he was traveling in a cab to catch a hovercraft flight back to Capital City.
Leaving Brownstown without the identity of the actual clients didn’t concern Markeson. The Colonel had told him enough. Besides he mused, it would be fun using his detective skills in one of his side ventures, particularly one as potentially lucrative as this one.
Now that he knew where and when the double cross would take place, Markeson needed to act. There were tracks to cover and scores settled.
The red head had been a pleasant diversion.
Perhaps he could actually team up with Sullivan on this. Build a little plausible deniability with the Inspector.
The thought of being one of the good guys for a change amused him.
---
I looked at my chronometer. It was almost time. I’d tucked Josephson and Sarah away in a storage room and told them to stay put until I sent for them. Josephson was happy to comply and had done his best to calm Sarah down. I felt bad about caging her up like that, but when the bullets and phase pulses started flying, I wanted her safe.
Exactly at 1700, the Marines breached all three entrances to the research facility. Power was cut. Before the emergency generators could kick in, flash bangs went off through out the facility, stunning any personnel near the breach sites.
In less than a minute, the few armed soldiers inside were dead. The gun battle had been intense. Civilians have no idea how loud combat is and the effect it has on the combatants. I followed the SPs as they moved in to secure personnel and evidence.
I wore my badge on my jacket, having left my great coat with Sarah and Josephson. Despite the earplugs I wore, my ears were ringing. I moved quickly through the facility, avoiding the bodies lying on the floor and the pools of blood forming beneath them.
My nose itched. I made the mistake of scratching it, dislodging one of the filters I had inserted. It had been awhile since I'd experienced the smell of combat. Cordite from kinetic energy projectile weapons filled the air with smoke and its peculiar smell. Adding to the odor was the smell of burned metal and plastisteel from errant phase weapon fire. The worse smell of all was the odor of burned flesh and ruptured intestines.
I gave up on trying to get the filter back in place and just pulled the other one out and pocketed them both. I had to communicate so I pulled out the earplugs as well. The moans of the wounded made me regret my decision.
I saw Kilgore approaching. He looked relieved and upset at the same time. I waved over an SP and sent him to fetch Josephson and Sarah. We needed to collect evidence as quickly as possible.
“Casualties,” I asked.
"No SPs. A ricochet hit one of my Marines, but his body armor stopped it. Couple of broken ribs, nothing serious."
“What about the Army guys?”
He shook his head sadly.
“One hundred percent, dead or wounded.”
I watched with the Major as the Navy Corpsmen attached to his Marine unit worked on the wounded. The most serious had already been moved out of the facility. The dead covered with the body bag that would be used to move them when time permitted.
“Collateral damage?”
“Two, but I don’t feel too bad about them. Come with me Sullivan. I think we’ve found where the proof we need is.”
---
Ralph eased his cab up to the door of the vicarage and got out. He hustled around to the other side and opened the door for Father Nathan, helping the priest ease out.
"Is it my imagination Ralph or is it colder than usual today?"
“Father, it’s five degrees colder than normal. Forecast calls for dreary weather for the next few days. Fog, snow, the regular when it’s overcast, just colder than usual.”
The priest forced himself to stand up straight. He adjusted the sling holding his left arm causing his black greatcoat to slip off.
"Here, let me help you, Father," Ralph said, scurrying to pick up the priest's great coat and drape it back over his shoulders.
“It’s all right Ralph, I can manage.”
“Father, you do enough for others. Let us help you for once.”
Too tired to argue, he smiled at the cabbie and turned to enter his home.
“Let me get the door Father,” Ralph insisted, hurrying to beat the priest to his front door.
Holding his hand up to stop Father Nathan, Ralph fiddled with the door lock, knocking loudly on the door twice in the process.
“Hold on one second Father while I get this open.”
Seconds passed before Ralph finally opened the door and held it for Father Nathan. The priest removed his Fedora hat and stepped inside where he commanded the vicarage’s AI to turn on the lights.
“Surprise!”
It was all Ralph could do to keep the much taller and thicker priest from stumbling and falling. The vicarage was full of people from the neighborhood. Homeless, elderly parishioners and other’s who had become part of the parish congregation. Squeezed into the small remaining space in front was a dozen or so of his kids.
“Welcome home Father,” a smiling Alice announced, stepping around one of the street urchins. “You look tired, let’s get you to bed. We just wanted to let you know how happy everyone is you’re going to be okay and that you’re back at the parish.”
As if on command, Joe began shooing everyone out. In less than a minute the vicarage was empty of people except for Alice and Father Nathan. She helped him lie down on the couch and then covered him with a blanket, taking his hat from him and placing it on his coat rack.
“This really isn’t necessary Alice.”
"Yes, it is," Alice said in her assertive waitress voice. "You do so much for people around here. You can let us take care of you for a day or two. Ralph and I will take care of the kids tonight and see to it they're settled in for good in the dorm."
Alice moved a small table close to the couch and set a tray of food on it.
“Joe sent over your evening meal. You send a link if you need anything.”
Alice slipped out before Father Nathan could say a word.
He looked at the plate of food and lifted the cover. Wisps of steam rose slowly, caring the aroma of the hot food with it. Father Nathan set the cover down and leaned back, resting his head on the pillow Alice had fluffed up for him.
Tears ran from his eyes as he spoke softly. "God, I don't deserve this. But it means a great deal to me. I thank you, and I will be sure to thank my friends and parishioners."
---
I watched two Marines fixing charges to a heavy steel door. Sarah fidgeted next to me while Josephson roamed around the facility, taking photographs of everything.
All of the wounded had been moved to the base clinic for care. The civilian workers were huddled in a corner under guard by three heavily armed SPs. The remaining SPs were busy marking everything for cataloging as evidence. Kilgore had declared the entire facility a crime scene.
I hoped for both of our sakes we found evidence of crime.
The Marines finished setting the charges, and we
all took cover. I don't know what it is about blowing things up, but the two of them started bickering over who would get to set the charges off. Kilgore grinned at me and winked before settling the argument by holding out his hand for the detonator. It was all I could do not to challenge him for it.
Disappointed, the Marine handed the device over and then settled down behind some heavy machinery with his buddy and plugged his ears.
“Fire in the hole,” Kilgore shouted and pressed the detonator switch.
A loud bang went off with a bright flash of orange light as the charges both melted through the steel in a microsecond and blew the door out of its frame. An even louder boom sounded when the solid steel door slammed into the floor. Weapons at the ready, the two Marines vanished into the room while the smoke cleared.
Sarah curled her nose up at the smell of the burned steel and the thermite charge. She looked cute, so I laughed at her.
She wasn’t amused.
“My ears hurt,” she complained. I nodded my understanding. My ears were ringing too, and I didn't have her sense of hearing. Looking about the place, I was more certain than before Sarah was telling me the truth about her enhanced abilities.
A tense voice carried through the opening. “Major Kilgore?”
Smoke from the melted steel obscured the view inside the door. I followed Kilgore as he cautiously stepped through.
I turned to stop Sarah from following only to find I was too late.
---
“I don’t care if it upsets your precious schedule Governor. We’re about to be double crossed,” Markeson declared.
“Don’t even think of blaming this on me,” he shouted into his comm in response to Rankin. "Every deal we make could be the one that ruins us, and you know it! I might also point out that of all our enterprises, the most lucrative are the ones I bring to the table!”
His temples throbbing from his burst of fury, Markeson waited for a response. Silence was his answer.
“Bring Xue with you. Be on time. Same place as last time.”
He broke the comm link and pocketed the device. Thought better of it and pulled it back out, pulling up his contacts. A minute later, the reservation made, the comm was returned to its place.
He had time for a shower, shave and a change of clothes. Feeling stressed, he thought of the lovely Jasmine, the waitress he’d requested. As yet, she’d yet to succumb to his advances. She would be a nice distraction for an evening.
Stepping into the stream of hot water, the detective tried to relax as the steam floated around his face, warming him. Not tonight, he decided. Jasmine would have to wait. There was too much to do, starting with getting Sullivan on board for the end game.
He would save the lovely Jasmine for another time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I hated having to do it, but I had to manhandle Sarah out of the secure room and get one of the Navy Corpsmen to sedate her. Josephson started to protest until he saw the two Marines puking their guts up just outside the door to the lab we had entered.
I watched his expression turn from one of anger towards me to concern for Sarah. "I know Inspector. You can't unsee some things once you see them. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
"Sorry, not this time. You're going to have to go in with the SPs and help document everything. This is a mess, and we've got to keep a lid on it."
“A lid sir? Cloning is illegal. We need to be making arrests, don’t we?”
The pup hadn't even started to put it all together. If we didn't get a lid on this, a war would start.
I checked Sarah one more time as she lay unconscious one more time and admonished, well threatened actually, the female SP tending to her. I was pretty certain she got the message to make sure nothing happened to Sarah until I returned.
Josephson went through the door before me carrying his camera and satchel of evidence bags. I steeled myself for the smell and the sights I would never unsee and followed behind.
Josephson was doubled up retching what little was in his stomach onto the floor. I didn’t say a word and nor would I.
We were standing alone in a charnel house.
A dozen steel mortuary tables were perfectly aligned along the right wall. Behind each was a door similar to what one would expect to see in a morgue. I was certain that was the set-up we were looking at.
Lying on each of the tables was the remains of a human body. Each was hooked up to monitors and what had to be some sort of life-support system.
Each body had been surgically cut open with most of the internal organs missing. The smell was horrible.
Josephson stood up slowly and turned to face me, his eyes wide with horror.
“It’s a human chop shop. They’re selling organs. They have to be.”
I didn’t say a word. I was more worried about the fact Josephson had drawn his weapon and had turned to face the two dozen terrified technicians a pair of Marines were guarding.
“You animals,” he screamed at them, aiming his weapon. The Marines looked at me, unsure of how to react.
“You butchered them!”
One of the technicians turned red in the face with rage. Before I could react, the fool spouted off the last words he would ever speak.
“They are clones, you ignorant cop! Clones! They are nothing more than property! Tissue for experiments! You have interrupted…”
I'd have to talk to Josephson later, and a black mark would go in his file. I was all right with that, and I'd keep Internal Affairs off his back. Usually, you can't just go and shoot a material witness like that.
But this time I think it was justifiable. The Marine guards certainly did.
---
The Colonel settled comfortably in the first class seat of the hovercraft. The flight to Capital City would be short. Her Sergeant had changed the accommodations she would be staying in to avoid contact with Markeson. At 1100 hours she would be off world and heading to her next plum assignment.
It saddened her for a moment. Never again would she be Sandra O'Donnell. Colonel Sandra O'Donnell. But, her rank would soon change in the new organization. The thought of her first star put a smile on her face. Brigadier General Molly O'Toole. Despite her Sergeant's advice, she had insisted on her new identity reflecting her Earth Irish ancestry.
Wealth, power, and recognition would be hers now. Finally, Sandra, no, make that Molly O’Toole would have what she had worked so hard for. General Savier would suffer for stealing what had been meant for Molly O’Toole’s friend, Colonel Sandra O’Donnell.
---
“Sir, she woke up. There was nothing I could do. The sedative I gave her should have kept her under for hours. No way am I giving her another dose.”
I raised my hand to calm the nervous Corpsman. "It's all right. I need Sarah to be awake anyhow."
Trembling, Sarah stood up and threw her arms around me, sobbing. I didn’t know what to do, what to say, so I just stood there and let her cry.
Josephson stepped into view. The pup looked terrible. It was understandable. He cut his eyes back toward the slaughterhouse.
We had to get this over with.
“Sarah, I need your help for just a few minutes. I don’t want to ask…”
She stepped away from me and looked up, wiping her eyes.
“I know. Nobody else can tell you what you need to know. I need to look myself.”
It suddenly hit me why Sarah needed to look, her sister Ellie.
I walked back over to the door with Sarah and Josephson following. I looked back at Sarah before I stepped through. I hated having to ask her to do this, but we had to sort a bunch of things out quickly. Sarah could do in seconds what would take us days.
Tears started leaking from her eyes again. It was all I could do not to draw my weapon and finish what Josephson had begun. Sarah took my hand, surprising me with the strength of her grip.
Brushing her long brown hair from in front of her face, Sarah stepped through the door first, and I followed quickly.
“Cover your eyes,” I ordered. “Keep them covered until I tell you to open them.”
“No, Sully,” she whispered. “I have to know if Ellie is here. If she’s one of them.”
Sarah’s sister meant nothing to me. But I was responsible for the death of her sister Maria. Responsible because I hesitated before taking the shot that killed the serial killer who had taken Maria's life. She had to know. I just didn't want her to have to look.
“Sarah, no.”
I had to spare her. She didn’t need to see the butchered clones. Sarah just needed to know if Ellie was one of the victims.
“Sully…”
“She’s a clone. Even if Ellie dyed her hair or has it cut short, she’s your twin. I’ll look.”
Sarah nodded, the tears flowing freely now. She let go of my hand and covered her eyes.
I looked at Josephson. He understood and gently put his hand on Sarah’s back, whispering for her to let him guide her to where we needed her to help us. I waited until my team was past the butchered bodies.
From where I stood, it was easy to see seven of the twelve bodies were male. I only had to check five faces. The first was the hardest. The young woman had long brown hair like Sarah. The last had brown hair cut short. Like the first four, she looked nothing like Sarah.
All of the victims were still alive. None of them would live without the machines they were attached to. I know a fair bit of human anatomy. They were all missing their kidneys, liver, and pancreas. The women were missing their ovaries and uterus. All of the victims were missing at least one lung, most both. Two still had their hearts.
I drew my .50 cal. and walked over to the prisoners. I picked the most arrogant looking of the bunch and placed the barrel against her temple.
“Where are the organs?”
She smiled. “Killing me won’t change anything.”
“Yes, it will,” I answered. “You’ll be just as dead as your friend lying there.”
