***
Tania operated the server room computer with cool professionalism. There was no smirk of triumph, no pause to gloat, and no lapse in concentration. The cold, calculating killer typed a series of instructions on the keyboard, pausing after each entry to verify the on-screen messages. Camera Tracking On. Front Door Locks Engaged. Emergency Exits Sealed. Communication Links Inactive. Wireless Network Jammed.
It had taken Tania less than thirty seconds to secure the Taurus Studios tower, and to convert it into an isolated hunting ground. She stepped back from the monitors, eyes shifting between two active workstations. One showed a three dimensional blueprint of the building, the other a security feed from the project room. The camera was on the wall behind the watchful Ron.
Tania removed her spectacles and carefully folded the ear rests. Her nose and lips appeared distorted through the convex lenses, but magnification was minimal. The glasses were little more than a cosmetic fashion accessory, a ‘Clark Kent’ style disguise to bolster the appearance of a shy computer technician. Without them - and her hair tied in a ponytail - the muscular Asian looked far more dangerous. There was no longer any doubt. Tania Chin was the Taurus Strangler.
The murderess stepped out of her leather boots and untied the knotted sleeves of her jacket, letting it drop off her waist. She unzipped the fly of her men’s trousers, and wriggled her body so they slid off her smooth, agile legs. Wearing only underwear, Tania walked backward to the storage lockers. She ducked, turned, and stepped past the webbed cables, and bent her twisty, athletic limbs through the narrowest of gaps. She kept her head upright the entire time, and never took her eyes off the computer screens.
Tania sidestepped to the locker she’d ‘hidden’ in after the attempt on Lucy’s life. She entered a code on the keypad without turning, and used a different finger for each digit to shorten the input time. She reached for the handle, only to freeze in mid-action when Ron moved.
With his weapon still aimed at the project room door, the policeman turned to view the large imaging screen. From the camera angle, the cleaned-up video couldn’t be seen, but a brief, muttered curse told the story. Ron had seen Tania’s face.
“You conniving bitch.” Ron’s whispered voice was enhanced - volume amplified, with no background noise. Tania’s multi-speaker setup made it sound as if he was in the server room. “You were setting us up the whole time. First Pryce, then Dawson. Well, it’s game over now.”
Ron disconnected his mobile phone from the USB cable, held the receiver to his ear, and pressed the call button. He looked anxiously at the screen, tapped it, and tried the button again. An angry shake and frantic keypad taps suggested he hadn’t gotten through.
“Damn it,” he said.
Tania’s iron concentration finally broke, and her lips curved into a familiar, sadistic smile. She turned round, and opened the locker with a powerful tug. Tania lifted out a scratched toolbox and a plastic bag, and reached into the now-empty storage unit to unscrew four loose rivets on the rear panel. A black metal sheet came free. Tania scraped it back to reveal a secreted hiding place in the ventilation duct. Tucked inside were two neatly-folded outfits: the Taurus Strangler’s all-leather gear and balaclava, and Jenna’s motion capture suit.
Tania reached for the balaclava then stopped. Her smile broadened as she decided on the catsuit instead. Electrical transmitters clinked as Tania took it from the locker. She reached further in, and removed a harness, coiled steel cables, and suction-pad discs.
Tania forced her powerful arms through the black Lycra sleeves, and extended her feet into the seamless stockings. She reached behind her back to seal a well-concealed zip up her spine. The elasticated material reshaped around Tania’s body: bulgy biceps, sturdy thighs, rounded buttocks.
Tania pushed her hair inside the ninja hood, and lifted it over her face. It snapped against her neck when she released, elongated slit lining up perfectly with her eyes. Other than her joined-up breasts - moulded to her sports bra with a slight dip in the centre - Tania resembled a naked woman with black Lycra skin. She twisted the mouthpiece vent, and tiny red sensor-dots lit up across her body.
“Detective Wallace.” Tania’s taunt echoed back through her speaker system. “It’s time you met Crimson Shadow.”
***
Ron looked round the project room, pistol unsteady in his hands. He swept the hexagonal desks and separating aisles, and knelt down to check under the terminals. Then he noticed a green glow on his sleeve. Ron did a sharp about-turn and raised his gun.
The enhanced camera image had disappeared from the monitor. A wireframe motion capture avatar now occupied the screen, showing Tania’s every move. She bent her thick-muscled arms and legs skilfully and precisely to navigate an unseen obstacle course.
“Do you want to know why I killed them?” Tania asked in mid-stretch. The avatar’s mouth was perfectly synchronised to her voice.
“Not really,” Ron shouted up at the PA speakers. “I just want to return the favour.”
“I’m the one that created Crimson Shadow,” Tania continued. “I designed her code. Without me she wouldn’t exist. I have so much talent, and what did they do with it? They left me to rot in the basement. Adrian didn’t think I was athletic enough to do the motion capture.”
The wireframe woman somersaulted and landed perfectly in a half-crouch. If Tania was still in the server room, she hadn’t touched any wires.
“So he hired Jenna,” Tania said hatefully. “I wasn’t sexy enough to appear on the poster.” She spread her arms and arched her back so her breasts thrust up. “So he used Sophie. After Norris left, reviewers said his music was the best thing about the trailer. Nobody mentioned the game engine I spent six months programming.”
“And Lucy?” Ron yelled. “What the hell did she do?”
“Do you want to see what she’s doing right now?”
Wireframe Tania leapt to her feet, walked two paces, and held her right hand out. Her fingers closed round the edges of an unseen, four-inch wide object. Tania reached over with her other hand, and used her index finger to press the invisible device.
There was a beep, and Ron’s mobile phone lit up. He moved cautiously across to the desk where he’d left it, covering the aisle with his pistol. He glanced down to see a digital image sent by Crimson Shadow.
It was a bird’s eye photograph of Adrian’s bedroom. Lucy straddled her tied-up host. Blonde hair streamed down her naked back. Her firm nipples pointed forward, Adrian’s head between her bare breasts.
“You sick psycho,” Ron said. “You’ve been watching her?”
“Watching him. It’s Adrian’s bedroom.”
The avatar walked left, unseen object held up. Her pace was steady with the motion capture ‘camera’ tracking the wireframe figure. The animation was akin to a person walking on a slow-moving treadmill.
“I left a camera behind on my last visit,” Tania said. “I’m quite capable of designing electronic systems. They didn’t need Levitt to handle security at Taurus. But the money they wasted on him is nothing compared to what Dawson kept in reserve. He got rich off my work. I wanted to ruin Adrian and let him take the fall. I gave him to you on a plate, but then you got nosy.”
Tania walked on, maintaining her pace. Ron deleted the still image from his phone and tried to call Lucy again. No signal.
“You won’t get through,” Tania taunted him. “I’ve blocked all external communications.”
Ron put the phone in his pocket. His eyes moved between the wireframe image and door. “So you’re still in the building,” he shouted.
“Almost at the exit.” Tania stopped to reach for something - possibly a door handle - then continued on. “And you’ll be trapped inside. Nobody works at Taurus Studios any more. I can come back for you later, but a dead cop needs a killer. With Dawson dead, I’m thinking Adrian. And since Lucy doesn’t want to leave him alone, she’ll have to be a victim.”
“You’re bluffing,” Ron said. “You’re
still here.”
“Then stop me. You have a gun.” Tania pushed one hand forward. There was a squeak in the background, more footsteps, then a click. “I’ve only got this computer cable.”
The avatar reached toward her waist, pulled her hand away, and clenched her fist. If the real Tania was holding a cable, it was half-an-inch thick.
The wireframe image flickered. Vertices scattered. Green lines fuzzed into smudge-like blurs, bent at strange angles. Then the avatar vanished, leaving only a black screen.
“If you hurt her…” Ron threatened.
“You’re too… ate…” Tania’s reply was badly distorted, with a lot of static mixed in. “Det… ec… ive.”
The intermittent chug of a motorcycle engine came over the loudspeakers. Followed by the screech of rubber on tarmac. Then nothing.
***
Ron rode the elevator platform down. He stood opposite the passing shaft doors, and pushed back against the glass tube. His suit squeaked, its back flap folding up above his waist. As the tension mounted, the pressure from Ron’s bulletproof vest dragged his shirt out of his trousers. He held position and conducted frequent, wide-arced sweeps with his pistol. Ron aimed just about everywhere: tinted office windows, dark corridors, emergency gantries. As the lobby balcony came into view, he did a full one-hundred-and-eighty degree turn from left to right.
Then the elevator arrived at ground level, and the door swivelled open. There was no sign of the Taurus Strangler. If Tania was in the lobby, she’d hidden herself well.
Ron edged forward. He kept his back to the wall and sidestepped toward the entrance side. Pyramid lights switched on under the balcony, tracking Ron’s careful progress. He looked up often to guard himself against a potential attack from above.
Ron made his way past dark television screens and unoccupied advertising stands. He took extra care - and a tiptoed peek above - the reception desk. Ron turned at the corner, and followed the same, tactical approach to the exit.
With his gun aimed inward, Ron groped for the door release button. He pressed it twice, but the entrance remained sealed. A sheet of white paper flapped against the glass, disturbed by Ron’s shoulder. He jerked back, and gave the two taped notes a quick, cautionary glance. The adjacently-posted letters were almost identical. Both had a Philadelphia Police Department logo printed in colour at the top, and the same word-for-word memo beneath.
Your job was to capture the Taurus strangler, but you have repeatedly identified the wrong suspect. Your performance has been unsatisfactory. Consider your employment terminated.
The only difference was the addressee’s name: Lucy Duvall on the first, Ron Wallace on the second.
Ron wiped his brow, clearly unnerved. He stood completely still and watched the lobby. It was deathly quiet. The balcony lamps switched off one by one, retracing his path from the elevator tube around the side wall. Only two lights above the entrance doors remained lit.
“I’m still here,” Tania said hoarsely.
Her voice came from behind the reception desk. Ron aimed his gun in that direction, without straying from his vantage point. From where he was, Ron couldn’t see the elaborate setup under the receptionist’s chair. ‘Tania’ was speaking to him through an MP3 player connected to two external speakers.
“You can’t see me,” her pre-recorded voice said. “But I can see you.”
The ‘killer’ breathed - softly to begin with, then more savagely. The right speaker volume got progressively louder and the left quieter, creating an illusion of movement. Ron pivoted his pistol slowly to his right, deceived by the ruse.
Above him - unnoticed - a black female figure vaulted over the balcony rail. The sensors on her Lycra suit were dark and inactive. Light briefly illuminated Tania’s hooded face as she climbed down to the edge. She reached out, and stealthily placed a suction pad disc on the underside of the balcony.
Tania swung across on the attached harness cable and spun around in mid-leap. The killer thrust her chest out and elevated her knees, making only minimal contact with the glass window. Tania was a master at remaining undetected. Ron saw and heard nothing.
“In the early build of Crimson Shadow, the main character used a garotte to kill her targets.” Tania’s recorded voice ‘moved’ to the centre of the speakers. “I did the motion capture and coding, but Adrian never used it.”
The steel cable unwound from its winch, lowering the Taurus Strangler toward her unaware target. Against the solid-black background, Tania’s suit was well-camouflaged, and she was virtually invisible except for the faintly-glinting steel cable.
Tania placed her stockinged feet on the ledge-like door frame, and allowed the cable to slacken behind her belt. The winch stopped unwinding as the timer reached zero. Ron was still hunting the phantom killer, unaware the real strangler was perched less than five feet above him.
“Adrian thought it was unrealistic that a woman could strangle so many men. So he decided to use the animation for a male character in the sequel.”
Tania pulled back her ninja hood, tossed back her hair, and unfastened the Lycra suit’s zip, timing her actions so the pre-recorded words masked any noise. She reached into her loosened outfit and took out a grey-insulated Ethernet cable. Tania gripped the wire ends just inside the connectors, breathing softly through her narrowly-open lips.
The Taurus Strangler stretched her arms and pushed off the glass. The steel cable clinked as she dropped down. Her shadow fell on Ron’s face, but he saw the danger too late. Tania’s stockinged feet slammed into his wrists, and knocked away the pistol. The weapon collided with the marble floor. A discharged bullet chipped the reception desk.
Tania split her legs and lifted them into an inverted-T. The winch cable snapped taut, with her waist-line a metre above ground. Gravity pulled Tania toward Ron. Dazed from the initial strike, he was still recovering when the strangler swung into his stomach and trapped his body between her closed thighs. Facing Ron head-on, Tania wrapped the Ethernet cable around his neck, crossed the wires behind, and pulled the ends apart.
“He didn’t believe she’d be strong enough,” concluded Tania - the real one.
Ron’s eyes bulged in their sockets. Saving his breath and energy, he silently endured Tania’s asphyxiating grip and reached his foot toward his pistol. His shoe heel scraped the handle, and drew the gun a half-inch closer. Tania kicked the entrance doors, spinning herself and her trapped victim around. Ron stamped in desperation, and inadvertently knocked the weapon away. Tania smiled as it slid across the floor.
Ron reached behind his head, grabbed Tania’s wrists, and attempted to force them together. Lycra tore around the strangler’s throbbing forearm, but she was equal to Ron’s challenge. His throat compressed as Tania pulled her garrotte even tighter.
“Do you think it’s unrealistic?” the killer asked between two sharp breaths.
Forced to open his mouth, Ron let out a strangled gasp. His fingers slipped off Tania’s wrists. Ron twisted his body and slammed her into the door. It was a final, desperate act to shake the killer off. Tania grunted as the cable swung back, still holding Ron’s tiring body between her thighs.
Ron expired with a defiant stare into Tania’s eyes. His termination notice - ripped during the impact - came unstuck. When the letter floated between the strangler’s legs, she was still throttling Ron’s lifeless body.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Fallen raindrops had frozen solid on Christmas decorations, forming frost-coated, snaky trails on the baubles and miniature plastic sleighs. Only the lights were completely free of ice, glass covers heated by bright-burning electric bulbs. Light snowflakes precipitated, and sleet had built up on hedges, car windscreens, and lampposts. Every patio door, window, and garden gate - including Adrian’s - was closed.
The motorcyclist didn’t encounter a soul as she weaved her slow-moving vehicle between parked cars and SUVs. The engine throb was subdued, almost inaudible against the wailing breeze, colliding tree branches
, and clinking baubles. There was a short, powerful roar as the leather-clad woman depressed the accelerator pedal and mounted the kerb. The bike’s tires depressed a straight, flattened path through the white-bladed grass. The silvery helmet visor reflected planks of Adrian’s wooden picket fence.
The rider switched off the bike’s engine, removed her helmet, and placed it on the handlebar. Tania’s hair was tucked inside her rolled-up balaclava. The Taurus Strangler had ditched the motion capture suit in favour of her all-leather outfit. Snowflakes blew into her smooth Oriental skin, melting on contact. Her face and neck were exposed to the freezing cold, but there were no shivers.
Tania reached into her jacket pocket and removed her tablet phone. She activated it, and live camera footage of Adrian’s bedroom appeared on screen. Erotic grunts and groans were muted, but he and Lucy could be seen engaged in passionate sex. She was on top of him, bouncing so hard the bed frame shook. Light reflected off her bare, sweat-drenched back as she leant forward to kiss her tied-up lover.
Tania pressed her thumb down on Adrian’s head. A patch of the phone’s screen turned black. Warm air condensed to steam on the transparent plastic as Tania exhaled. Her lips curved into a scheming smile as she traced her finger across Lucy’s neck.
Tania typed on the tablet phone’s virtual keypad, and the video was replaced by computer code. A preset program entered commands without any further input. After several automated tasks completed, a message appeared between two asterisks: Security Offline. The recording light on the camera above the front gate blinked out, motion halting in mid-rotation.
Tania stepped off her motorcycle and wheeled it around the picket fence. She rested the seat backrest and handlebar against the white wood, put her phone away, and pulled the balaclava down over her face. The mouthpiece veil fitted over her lips, and the tiny circular eye slits over her irises. Tania’s feminine features - breasts and wide hips - were concealed by her bulky leather jacket. Few witnesses would describe the masked figure as a woman.
Termination Notice (Action Girl Thrillers) Page 19
