2041 Sanctuary (Dark Descent)

by Robert Storey

  Lucy, suddenly wondering why the doormen had not returned, rushed from behind her desk. Outside the front entrance the sight that greeted her was disturbing. Around twenty bouncers lay on the ground, some struggling to rise while others lay still, barely moving. The press of people that had been waiting to enter the club had moved back some fifty feet, as if giving whatever event had transpired room to unfold.

  Lucy bent down to one of the injured, a brick wall of a man called Delmar whom she knew well, and one she’d never seen beaten and bruised like he was now. ‘What happened?’ she asked him, momentarily distracted when a small old man with a beard, wearing a baseball cap, walked up the steps and into the building.

  Cradling his left arm, Delmar groaned. ‘Something, came out of nowhere. Didn’t get a good look at it. Whatever it was, it was strong, really strong.’

  Lucy soothed him as he let out another cry of pain, the sound echoing the mournful and emotive police sirens responding in the distance.

  ♦

  Professor Steiner picked his way past the sprawling forms of the nightclub’s doormen and made his way inside. The display put on by Samson had been both terrifying and awe inspiring, as he cut his way through the men like a razor-edged scythe through grass. Granted, the colonel had the advantage of being armoured and camouflaged, but still one couldn’t help but be impressed by the speed and skill on display as he took down twenty men built like blocks of granite. Part of him had been hoping the colonel would fail, while the rest knew he had to succeed, for the sake of those in Steadfast.

  The fracas outside appeared to have had no effect on the people at the bars and on the dance floor, the partying continuing unabated. The interior of the club was so loud Steiner was finding it difficult not to put his hands over his ears for protection. Samson was nowhere to be seen and Steiner pushed his way through intoxicated men and women in an attempt to head upstairs for a better view of the vast dance floor and surrounding areas. Finally, reaching the first floor, Steiner entered a section marked VIP Lounge. He assumed large men normally prevented general riff-raff like himself from entering such sections, but seeing as Samson had taken out what had to have been the majority of such guards, he was able to swan in like he belonged.

  This area, like the rest, heaved with people. Steiner felt dizzy and disorientated as the music thumped, the lights pulsed and the strobes flashed. Finding a chair amongst the press of hot bodies he sat down, attempting to get his bearings and regain his faculties. Before he could settle, a breath of air on his neck made him shiver and he turned to come face-to-face with a beautiful woman on a stage, bending down towards him, her face and movements sensual in the pulsating strobe. Standing up, Steiner realised to his intense embarrassment the young lady was stark naked and gyrating provocatively towards him as he watched, mouth agape. Someone caressed his arm and he looked to his left where another woman had appeared, similarly dressed – or not, as was the case in this instance. Eyes wide, like a rabbit in the headlights, Steiner felt heady, intoxicated even; it was a long time since his pulse rate had been increased thus. With the rapidly rhythmic lights hypnotising him, Steiner felt a large hand clamp down on his shoulder from behind, breaking the spell. Looking round and then up, he saw two green glowing eyes and the sporadic image of Samson’s armoured body, appearing then disappearing, on and off, on and off, in the flashing white lights surrounding them.

  Samson pressed a button on the side of his helmet to reveal his grim face. ‘No time for sightseeing, Professor. I need you to see something.’

  I’ve seen enough already, Steiner thought to himself as one of the naked dancers blew him a kiss goodbye. The two men, now in the middle of the dance floor, found themselves in bright, constant lighting as the thumping percussion ceased, to be replaced by an uplifting vocal section of the song. Everyone in the area put their hands in the air and cheered. The lights dimmed and a single pulse of strobe lighting flashed out, accompanied by a booming beat. The baseline gradually kicked back in, the music rising to a crescendo as the lasers and strobes in combination drove the people into a frenzy. Steiner thought, if I was forty years younger, I might be tempted to join in, as it is was, however, he just wanted to get away from the relentless noise.

  After Samson and Steiner had broken free of the crush, another obstacle arose in front of them in the form of eight doormen pushing through a pair of double doors. Samson moved Steiner behind him, reactivated his armour and then launched himself at the nearest man. Steiner watched while Samson’s indistinct form, transformed into some kind of ethereal demon, dispatched the men arrayed against him in quick and brutal succession until only he remained standing. Ignoring a crowd of shocked spectators, the colonel beckoned Steiner onwards, and the two men disappeared into the rear of the building where the offices were located.

  Samson opened and closed doors until he found the one he desired. Steiner, following him into a brightly lit area chock full of crates and boxes of all shapes and sizes, was relieved to hear the music fade when the heavy door swung shut behind him. To the left, fifty feet away, a man – most likely the nightclub’s owner – stood behind a desk, the gun in his hand pointed at the colonel.

  ‘The police are outside!’ The man exuded fear like dark smoke from an oily fire. ‘There’s no escape!’

  Samson walked towards him and the man’s weapon discharged, sending a bullet ricocheting from Samson’s armour and off into the room. Steiner ducked for cover. The armour clad figure of the colonel bore down on his hapless victim and three more shots rang out before Samson knocked the weapon away with the back of his hand. Grabbing the man by the hair, his other hand clasping his jaw, Samson lifted him off his feet with pure, brute strength.

  ‘I was told you have some computer equipment, some special computer equipment,’ Samson said to his struggling prisoner as Steiner approached warily. ‘You will show me where it is immediately. Do you understand me?’

  The man nodded as best he could with the colonel’s fingers clamped around his face.

  ‘Good.’ Samson let the man go. ‘Where?’

  The Asteroid’s owner rubbed his sore face with one hand and pointed with the other to the corner of the room, where a door lurked in the shadows. Samson grabbed the man and kicked him forwards with a steel shod boot.

  ‘Are you out of your mind?!’ Steiner said after they’d passed through the doorway to descend some stairs. ‘You complain I nearly get us caught and then you pull a stunt like this, probably bringing half the Las Vegas police department down on us!’

  Samson looked at him. ‘Relax.’

  ‘Relax! How can I relax?!’

  An unresponsive Samson moved into the basement and through into another room, hastily unlocked by their prisoner, leaving Steiner to simmer in a melting pot of his own fury.

  ‘There.’ The owner of the club indicated a metal cabinet against the far wall. Samson stormed over to it and ripped the doors open with such force that one came off in his hand; he threw it aside with disdain, the thin metal panel crashing to the floor.

  Steiner walked to the shelving and began sorting through the hardware on display. ‘I’ll need a box.’

  Samson, anticipating his request, dumped an orange plastic crate at his feet. One by one, Steiner selected the pieces of equipment he would need to access the FBI’s computer network. Regardless of Samson’s methods, he’d sourced the right kit for the job. Everything here was cutting edge, the latest quantum processors, data miners and artificial intelligence. In fact, it was so advanced he wasn’t convinced anyone outside of the military or GMRC should have access to it. A small stamp on the side of one of the cases, read Property of the GMRC. He picked up the other items in his box; everything had the same marking on it, confirming his fears. ‘Where did you get this?’ Steiner asked the nightclub owner, brandishing a device at him. ‘You were selling this on the black market? Do you know the punishment for such a crime?’

  The man stared at him tight-lipped and then returned his attention t
o the colonel, clearly more focused on Samson’s physical threat than anything Steiner had to say.

  Samson snatched the item from Steiner’s hand and all but chucked it into the box. ‘Time to go, Professor.’

  Steiner was about to retort, but realised the illegal activities of one man were hardly high on his agenda right now. He picked up the box, struggling under its weight.

  Samson withdrew his sidearm and pointed it at the man’s chest. ‘Where’s your escape route?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Samson cocked the hammer. ‘Last chance.’ He raised the gun to the man’s head.

  Not surprisingly the nightclub owner relented. ‘Behind the cabinet.’ He flicked a hand to his right.

  Samson lowered his weapon and leaned his weight against the piece of furniture; with a screech of metal, the cabinet slid to one side, revealing an unlit opening behind. Samson let go and the hidden exit began to close. Pushing it back once more, he held it open so Steiner could move past and into the dark. With one hand on the cabinet, he raised his pistol and shot the man in the head, the body falling to the ground without a sound.

  Steiner gasped in shock, the man’s murder carried out by Samson with an indifference akin to an arbitrary task, like putting on your glasses or turning out a light.

  Steiner gave Samson a savage look. ‘You really care nothing for the life of others, do you?’

  ‘Why should I?’ Samson illuminated their escape route with his helmet’s inbuilt torches. ‘According to you everyone’s living on borrowed time as it is. Come 2045, no one on the surface will be left alive; tell me if I’m wrong?’

  Steiner didn’t – couldn’t. The colonel was right.

  ‘As far as I see it,’ Samson said, ‘they’re all six foot under, they just don’t know it yet.’

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Steiner stared out of the window at the endless blackness, the low whir of the Dodge Ram’s electric engine lulling him to sleep, its soporific embrace hard to resist. Occasionally a car sped past in the opposite direction, its headlights dazzling him back to full alertness before the process started again, eyelids drooping, mind slowing.

  Vegas lay far behind them now. Apparently the colonel’s source at the casino had been very forthcoming about the nightclub owner’s secrets. Steiner wondered if the man still lived; he doubted it given Samson’s track record, the thought a sobering one.

  They had exited the nightclub without hindrance via the secret passage, emerging into a street conveniently close to where Samson had parked the pick-up truck. The police, who had indeed descended on the Asteroid Club en masse, were none the wiser when Steiner and Samson drove past and on, out of town. And why would they have been? Steiner thought. They were looking for someone presumed to be still in the building, not two men cruising by in a classic car.

  Once Samson had deemed enough distance lay between them and the city, they had driven a little way out into the desert to catch a few hours’ sleep. Steiner had dozed fitfully, one eye on the road, searching for any sign of pursuit. The colonel, however, went out like a light, his training helping him to grab rest when he could; in spite of the precarious nature of their circumstances.

  Back on the road again after their stop, Samson had continued their drive west across the southern states. After two more hours had passed, they arrived at, and then successfully navigated entry into, the City of Angels. Once again Steiner had been issued with a temporary pass, this one allowing him four hours inside the Los Angeles County checkpoint boundaries. Samson, as he had back at St. George, bypassed the roadblock, moving in on foot to be picked up by Steiner a mile further down the highway. Now back in the driving seat, literally and metaphorically, the colonel brought them to a darkened office block on the outskirts of Culver City, in the western district of the county.

  ‘Wake up, old man,’ Samson said, rousing Steiner from his slumber.

  Steiner opened his eyes, unaware that he’d drifted off yet again. Instantly alert, he followed his armoured companion out of the car and onto the street. Breaking into the deserted building, Samson guided Steiner inside and prompted him to set up the equipment they’d taken from the now deceased nightclub owner. Patching into the internal connections within the office, located on the first floor, Steiner’s doubts about Samson’s intentions manifested themselves as the time neared for his skills to be utilised. Engineering a code sequence, Steiner brought up the login screen for the FBI’s internal computer network, the holographic wall monitor in the office displaying the agency’s well known seal as a rotating three-dimensional graphic.

  ‘So, Colonel,’ Steiner said, spinning his seat around to look at Samson, his hands clasped before him in pensive anticipation, ‘what is it you require me to do inside the FBI’s network – exactly?’

  ‘I need you to locate an agent in the L.A. field office.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Brett Taylor.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You don’t need to know why, just do it.’

  ‘If you think I’m going to break into the secure network of a government agency without knowing why first, then you don’t know me very well.’

  Samson glared at him. ‘Don’t push me, Professor.’

  Steiner folded his arms across his chest, his face hardening. ‘Or you’ll do what, Colonel? You obviously need me as much as I sadly need you and if you resort to your default setting of violence first and talk after, then you’ll find my services are no longer available to you.’

  Samson’s jaw tightened as his rage, never far from the surface, battled to unleash itself at the obstacle before it.

  Steiner watched while Samson struggled in his own internal, private tug of war. ‘The ball’s in your court, Colonel, and it’s your call.’

  Samson held Steiner’s gaze, perhaps seeking to melt his resolve by sheer force of will. Unfortunately for the colonel, he only bowed to such pressure when he had absolutely no alternative. Steiner raised a questioning eyebrow.

  Samson released Steiner’s gaze and moved to look out of the window. In the distance the high-rises of central L.A.’s financial district thrust up into the dark skies, their windows lit up like sparkling jewels in a physical embodiment of the power and influence enjoyed by those that occupied the offices within.

  A minute’s silence passed before Samson spoke. ‘I have a child – a daughter.’

  Steiner waited for the colonel to continue; when he’d failed to do so after another minute dragged by, Steiner took it on himself to coax forth further information.

  ‘And in light of what you now know about the Earth’s future,’ Steiner said, keeping his tone as neutral as he could, ‘you seek to relocate her to USSB Sanctuary?’

  Steiner took the colonel’s continued silence as an affirmation of his insight. But why the FBI? Steiner asked himself. Had the girl and her mother been placed in protective custody to escape the violent and unstable colonel? This seemed the most likely explanation, which also meant the colonel sought to relocate the girl against her will.

  ‘What about your daughter’s mother?’ Steiner asked. ‘Do you plan on kidnapping her too?’

  Samson continued to stare out at the distant skyline, but when he spoke his voice was bitter. ‘Her mother is dead.’

  Steiner was tempted to ask Samson if he’d had anything to do with the untimely death, but common sense prevailed. ‘And this FBI agent will know where your daughter is?’ Steiner said instead, finally grasping the full picture that had eluded him since Samson had forced him into this macabre sideshow.

  Samson turned to face Steiner again, his face set. ‘Help me or not, I will find her; but with your help, I can get in and out without being detected.’

  ‘In and out of where?’ Steiner was confused.

  ‘The field office,’ Samson said in anger, as if Steiner was being purposefully obtuse, ‘it’s a few miles from here.’

  ‘You want to break into the FBI’s L.A. field office? Th
e second largest FBI stronghold in the country; are you insane?’

  ‘I’m not fucking MAD!’ Samson’s eyes bulged and spittle shot from his mouth.

  Steiner stared at the man in disbelief. I must have hit a nerve, he thought, and a raw one at that. What with his little red pills, his wanton murder and this, Steiner could well believe the colonel would qualify as a candidate for committal. If I ever get reinstated at the GMRC, Steiner promised himself, I’ll make a point of having the colonel’s record checked. How the military could let someone like him continue as a serving officer in a highly sensitive black project, God only knew.

  ‘If you’d told me about your daughter before, Colonel,’ Steiner said, staying calm, ‘I could have saved us all this trouble. I implore you, forget this—’ Steiner paused, having been about to use the word madness. ‘Idea,’ he said instead. ‘Help me resume my position within the GMRC and I promise you I will have your daughter moved to a USSB of your choosing.’

  ‘It’s too late for that,’ Samson told him, his composure regained. ‘Besides, your chances of returning to the GMRC are slim at best, Malcolm Joiner has seen to that. My daughter comes first, Steadfast second.’

  ‘Have you considered staking out the offices and then speaking to this agent elsewhere?’ Steiner asked. ‘It would be a lot easier, don’t you think?’

  ‘It would, but seeing as surveilling any government office is now a virtual impossibility due to twenty-four hour drone cover, we’d be picked up in a matter of hours. A tactical incursion into the offices will not be expected and will be incisive and quick, in and out, minimising exposure.’

  Steiner’s faint hopes of diverting Samson from his crazy plan were in tatters; it seemed his only option now was to try and ensure its success. ‘So, when I locate this Brett Taylor,’ Steiner said cautiously, ‘you’ll then need me to stay in the system, help you gain access to the building and guide you around any obstacles you encounter inside. You’ll extract the information you need from the agent about your daughter and then I’ll guide you back out again, correct?’