The boots and gloves she wore seemed to not be connected to the system at all, which made sense. The concave floor of the platform would have thrown off how the robot stood on flat ground, meaning that the bots most likely just had reflexive ankles, like some of the pre-bionic prosthetic legs had. Likewise, the fighter’s gloves were just padded, fingerless kickboxing gloves, likely meant to keep her hands from getting damaged should they contact a random object or person during the match. Each of the robots had a full set of fingers and thumbs, but for the purposes of fighting they seemed to be locked into a perpetually perfect fist, with no gloves for protection, a smart choice if you wanted to inflict maximum damage. It also seemed logical that the locked hands would be a regulation for the sport, so no one could go pulling at wires or jamming thumbs into visual sensors.
“Jackson!” came Cassdan’s voice from the far side of the red ring.
All I could see of him was a hand raised above the heads of the crowd, his computer strapped to the wrist as it moved away from me through the throng. A missed swing left the blue bot wide open for a left hook that knocked its head cockeyed and unable to straighten. The crowd pressed in, shoving me left and right as the blue bot tried to fend off blow after blow with its left hand while trying to force its head straight with its right. There was no way for me to move backward or through the mass of bodies to make my way to the other side of the ring. That left me only one option.
For just a moment, the blue bot’s pilot stopped trying to fix his robot’s neck and drove both fists into the red bot’s chest, shoving it away. I took the opening, crossing the red line and darting across the empty space. The blue bot grabbed its own head with both hands, cranking it back straight. The red bot charged forward. I ducked under its swinging arm, as its head turned, black carbon fiber face following me. I caught a glimpse of the controller’s face, watching her mouth drop open wide under the red helmet.
The crowd instinctively drew back, parting to make way for me. Maybe it was for my safety, or maybe it was because I led my sprint with a bionic arm braced in front of me. Either way, I cleared the ring safely as a heavy crashing sound chased me out, the crowd’s cheers turning into a gasp of shock. It sounded like the match had been ended in a flash, but I had no time to stick around to see who won.
When I cleared the back edge of the crowd, I instantly caught sight of Cassdan, hot on the heels of a man several inches taller than him. I stretched my legs, trying to make up the distance. Cassdan made it a lot easier by swinging a leg to kick our suspect in the ankle, disrupting his stride and causing him to stumble.
He never fell, though. By the time his right palm hit the ground, he was already turning on Cassdan, planting his feet for a hard swing. I moved as quick as I could, watching Jeff Geller’s face twist into a hateful snarl as he channeled power into his swing.
The power of a punch comes from more than just the arm. It comes from the extension of the legs, the twist of the back, the force of the chest, and to a lesser extent the extension of the arm. Knowing all of this, I had no issues laying into him with a swing of my own. My bionic arm might be fifty times stronger than a muscle and bone arm, but my punches were only a bit stronger than any decent boxer, or rather, any decent boxer who was at zero risk of feeling pain or breaking any of the delicate bones in his hand and wrist.
I caught him in the gut, cutting off his swing at Cassdan just after he made contact. I heard the breath burst from his lungs, carrying a strained sound of pain. Despite his well planted footing, I forced him off his balance, landing him on his back. He wrapped arms around his stomach, drawing up his legs as he rolled over on his side.
“Jeff Geller,” I said, catching my breath while he gasped for his, “it’s time we had a conversation.”
Chapter 16
With a firm bionic grip on his upper arm, I walked Geller up another level of the parking deck. Cassdan followed behind, keeping his distance while he dabbed the blood from his lip. If Geller had been able to follow through with that punch, I would have been stuck holding onto our suspect until my client woke up. As it was, I was happy to find a good corner to shove our captive into. With a large car parked to the left and a wall to the right, he’d have to go straight through me and Cassdan both to get away.
Geller leaned against the wall, staring at the ground, his chin stuck out and a frown on his face. He crossed his arms and slumped his shoulders, taking on a posture of defiant resignation. The parking structure was dim, but better lit than the alley where he sucker-punched me the first time. Without the element of surprise, he’d be in for a much more difficult fight.
“Let’s start this off with a bit of honesty, shall we?” I began. “My name’s Jackson. My client here was a good friend of Angela Vidales. They grew up together, so you can understand why he took her murder a bit hard.”
Without bothering to look our way, Geller gave me a derisive snort.
“As you probably know,” I continued, “the police have already declared her death a suicide, so you can understand why a former cop like yourself, with violent tendencies and connections in the police department, would be our prime suspect.”
He turned his head toward me, locking eyes in a cold stare.
“This is your chance to have your say. I suggest you take it.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he spat, “and if you had one bit of proof, you wouldn’t be hunting me down like a dog in this garage. This is kidnapping. When you’re done playing your little game, I’m going to have the both of you locked up.”
“I’d love to see you try,” I responded. “The only thing protecting you right now is the fact that there is no official investigation. The second you have us arrested, we’ll be assigned a public defender who will insist on having Angela’s building swept for DNA. There’s no doubt they’ll find yours in the penthouse hallway and on her door, not to mention your hairs on her clothes, maybe even the clothes she was wearing when she was killed.”
Again, he looked away.
I checked my tone, trying to get us back on track. “I’m serious about wanting to hear your side of this. I know you cared about Angela. This doesn’t look good for you right now, but if you really aren’t responsible for her death, then anything you tell us could help us catch her killer.”
He drew up his shoulders as if to guard his neck.
“At the theatre, you mentioned a Jimmy Patel. You were talking about the head of security at Ultramarine Tech, weren’t you?”
Geller’s head dipped further.
“Did you tell Patel about Angela? About how you helped her to get evidence on Ultramarine’s forced labor? How exactly did he punish you for that?” I waited a beat for emphasis. “What did he make you do to keep your job?”
That angered him. His brow lowered as his eyes flared and his jaw clenched. He still didn’t look at us, but the way he chewed his lip made it look like he wanted to say something.
Cassdan stepped up close to me and spoke quietly. “This isn’t working. We need to try something else.”
I lowered my voice to match his. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“I’ve done a bit of research on some… ‘enhanced’ interrogation tactics.” My brow tensed at the thought of it. I hoped Cassdan was just saying it to get a rise out of Geller. “My understanding is that waterboarding is the most effective.”
Geller turned, squaring up to us and baring his teeth. Pointing a finger at me, he took one step closer and opened his mouth as if to speak. No words came, though. Instead, his eyes drifted from mine, settling just over my shoulder as his finger dropped.
His posture shifted to standing upright, practically at attention, his anger fading away. I didn’t want to take my eyes off of him, but the sound of a familiar voice convinced me to risk it.
“This is the part where I have to interrupt,” came the voice of Det. Lannemir.
“Detective,” Cassdan said. “We weren’t expecting you.”
She stood with her hands on he
r hips, a stirn look on her face. “I had my concerns that the two of you might’ve had intentions to violate this citizen’s rights. I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”
I started to speak, but Geller spoke over me. “Det. Lannemir, these two have been holding me here against my will. They’ve accused me of-”
She held up a hand, cutting him off. “I think I’ve got a solution that could help everyone here.”
“By all means,” I said. “If you can get the truth out of him, we’d appreciate it.”
We stepped aside to let her have the space. She moved in and leaned a hip against the car. Geller relaxed his shoulders a degree as he took a single step back toward his wall. Lannemir pulled open her jacket, removing her phone from an inner pocket. A second later, she had drawn up a text document that looked an awful lot like a contract.
Handing the device to the man, she said, “You can have a lawyer look over it if you like. It’s pretty simple, though.”
He scrolled through it a moment before his eyes returned to the detective. “This is an offer of protection?”
“It is, in exchange for the information these gentlemen are asking for.”
He held the phone out to her, trying to give it back. “I don’t think you have the power to protect me. Ultramarine is too connected. I don’t know if they have people in the police department or not, but one way or another, if I betray them, they’ll find me.”
She stuffed her hands in the outer pockets of her jacket. “Jeff, the police department is under contract not to investigate Marshall Engineering or any of its subsidiaries, including Ultramarine. If there is any chance at all of taking them down, it lies with these two men. Tell them what you know, and maybe we can topple the tower, eliminating everyone who might come after you.” She stood up straight to drive home her next point. “I know you’ve got your problems, but you’ve always tried to do the right thing. That’s how you got involved in all of this in the first place. You’ve already betrayed the corporation once. Do you really think Patel will leave a loose end like that untied? If you side with Ultramarine on this, how long do you think they’ll let you live once all of this has blown over?”
Cassdan added to her point, saying, “What happened to Angela was just business. I’d hate to see what they’d do to somebody when they’re trying to make a statement.”
Geller visibly swallowed. Again, he looked over the contract on the phone, scrolling through it with one hand as he scratched the back of his head with the other.
“This really is my best chance?” he asked, finally.
“I think so,” the detective answered, “but I don’t know the whole story, yet. What do you think?”
He thought about it a moment more, and then pressed his thumb firmly against the signature line. As he handed it back, he began his story.
“I wasn’t a regular at the burlesque shows until I met her. She told me her name was Angie. She flirted with me.” His shoulders slumped, his eyes going to the floor. “I always figured she must’ve had another guy, because that’s all it ever was, just flirting.
“Then, one day she asks if she can see where I work. She says she’s really interested in the new armor Ultramarine is making. She wanted to see how it was all put together, you know? I figured I could impress her, maybe get somewhere, and when she told me who she really was, I knew I had no chance if I didn't help her out.”
He leaned his back against the wall before continuing. “I’d never been to the lower levels myself, but I knew the layout of the building and I knew where the cameras would probably be. It wasn’t hard to get her in, and I figured, worst case scenario, I get wrote up for fooling around on the job.” He shook his head back and forth, eyes staring at the floor. “I had no idea what was down there.”
“What was it?” Cassdan asked.
Geller hesitated a moment, his mouth working to find the words. “People. Kept in cages. Working the machines in shifts. Passing out from the heat. Getting injured because they were too exhausted to pay attention to what they were doing. It was just so awful.”
“What kind of evidence did Angela get?” the detective asked.
“The cameras down there, they weren’t connected to the rest of the system. The recordings were on a separate server on the fourth floor. I don’t know if anyone ever accessed them, but Angie made a copy of the recordings, and we got the hell out of there.” A small, sad laugh escaped him as he slid down the wall, coming to rest on the grime covered concrete. “The copy, it must have set off some sort of alarm. By the next day, everyone was on edge. There were rumors of a breach, talk of the higher-ups investigating the security team. It was just a matter of time before they found the one officer that happen to have scanned his way into areas he wasn’t supposed to be in on the night in question.”
Lannemir sighed. “And you gave her up?”
“You have no idea what kind of man Jimmy Patel is. No idea.”
“That’s all you need, isn’t it?” Cassdan asked Lannemir. “With his testimony, you can take down Ultramarine.”
The detective rubbed her temples. “We’re still not allowed to investigate the company, and certainly not on the word of a disgraced former police officer.”
I glanced over at Geller. He sat with his head in his hands, far beyond being offended by Lannemir’s comments. Cassdan grumbled and turned away.
“We need something big,” I added, “something undeniable, and very public.”
“You have an idea?” Cassdan asked.
“I’m working on it, and I think it would be best to discuss it in private.” I nodded my head toward Geller, to get my point across.
Det. Lannemir led the way back down to the street level, guiding Geller by the elbow. For the sake of appearances, she had put him in handcuffs. If the corporations had anyone keeping an eye on him, this would look better, like he was taking the fall, keeping his mouth shut, and staying loyal to the company. It was what was best for his safety, or so she said. I still wasn’t sure if we could trust her.
“What will you do next?” she asked, once her witness was closed in the back of her black sedan.
“I think we’re still deciding on that,” I responded. “If what he’s saying is true, then this whole thing just got a lot bigger. One drunken, jealous murderer would have been a lot more convenient.”
“Convenience isn’t a part of this job.” She said it with a weary smile and tired eyes. “When you make your decision, give me a call. My hands are still tied, but I’ll help any way I can.”
I gave her a nod, before asking, “What are you going to do with Geller?”
“I don’t want to say it out loud here, but if you need to talk with him again, Lobo will be keeping watch over him.”
“Understood.”
Rather than saying goodbye, she simply clapped me on the shoulder, nodded to Cassdan, and climbed into her vehicle. Once she was gone, I turned to have a hard conversation with my client.
“I’m not giving up,” he said. “We’re going to finish this investigation. We’re going to find her killer. If Ultramarine sent someone to kill her, then we’re going to take them down. If the killer is connected some other way, then taking down Ultramarine will draw them out.”
“And what if the murderer isn’t connected to the company? What if it’s just some hired goon that was sent in to finish the job after they erased her proof, or just some Humanity First cop that took advantage of the security going down? If this killer doesn’t care about Ultramarine, going after the company could be a complete waste of time.”
“We have to try.”
I took a deep breath. “I understand that, but it’s going to be difficult.”
He turned to face me, his eyes raising to meet mine. “But is it possible?”
I began to pace, thinking over everything we knew, trying to account for every variable. The killer could have been anyone from a corporate thug to a random stranger, but with the window of opportunity so small, they most likely knew
about the hack before it went down. One way or the other, Ultramarine was responsible for the hack, and therefore also Angela’s death. Of course, the Zombie Queen hadn’t directly admitted to that, but we didn’t need her testimony to hold up in a court.
It might have been possible to draw the killer out with some kind of bait, if I could find something personal enough, but if the killer was working with Ultramarine, catching him or her wouldn’t be enough. The company would either protect them, or have them eliminated. Likewise, taking down the company wouldn’t necessarily catch the killer. Patel probably organized the entire attack, but by the time he was finished cutting a deal and spilling his guts to the police, whoever they had gotten to do the actual deed would be long gone.
What we needed was a way to kill two birds with one stone, to get evidence against the company and draw out the killer at the same time.
I stopped my pacing, looking up to Cassdan. “I may have an idea, but we’re going to need April’s help.”
“Tell me everything.”
“Something the detective said, back at the church. Prison workers go in, but no one ever comes out. There’s no injuries and no deaths reported, and yet two eye witnesses have said the working conditions are terrible.”
“I’m following you, but I don’t know where you’re going.”
“People are dying. They have to be. So, where are the bodies going? The company’s scrap goes to the junkyard, but there’s no chance a human body is ending up there. Someone would be talking about it by now.”
“Companies used to burn a lot of their refuse,” Cassdan offered. “Isn’t it possible they have an old furnace in the basement they’ve turned into a makeshift crematorium?”
“That building’s barely ten years old. They’d have to call in a lot of favors to get a permit to specially install a furnace.”
Skyway Angel Page 11
