Kemamonit Undercover

by Paul Edwards

  Chapter Eight

  I lowered my sword then let go of the handle, it clanged against the floor, Janet quickly clambered up back onto her feet.

  "I want you to undress yourself... slowly no sudden moves," the gruff voice said.

  I turned around and looked at my new adversary, I saw a brute of a man with a large bald head. I could not tell his age, he may have been sixty... he may have been thirty. His body was a mass of hard muscle, his biceps almost bursting through his jacket sleeves.

  "Undress!" He yelled.

  Janet found a cardboard box and put it next to me.

  "Put all your clothes and things in there," she pointed to the box.

  I slowly and cautiously undressed, the brute watched me like a cat watching a mouse, I was soon standing in my underwear.

  "All of it, take it all off," the brute barked.

  I stared at him defiantly as I stripped naked, he looked away.

  "Find anything?" the brute asked Janet.

  "No... a cheap bracelet, earrings, a gold chain."

  "Tape the box up we'll send it anyway."

  Janet gave me what looked like a hospital smock to wear, and a pair of cheap sandals. I quickly put them on.

  I stood there watching Janet tape the cardboard box shut, I waited until she had stood back a few feet to examine her handiwork.

  "n m3=i mity srw pn," I said loudly in ancient Egyptian, it was the command word for my bracelets self destruct spell.

  The box burst into flame, it was consumed almost instantly.

  I looked at Janet and the brute, I saw the blood drain from their faces.

  The brute, pointed his pistol at my head.

  "You do that again princess... I put a hole in your skull."

  "You won't kill me, you won't get what you want if you do."

  "Handcuff her, don't take your eyes off of her either," the brute ordered.

  Janet grabbed my arms and handcuffed my hands, thankfully she did not put them behind my back.

  "You got ten minutes with her... that was the deal. I'll wait outside."

  Janet led me to a small table and put a chair under me, I sat down. Janet had picked her gun up off of the floor, now she set it down on the table between us, she sat across from me.

  "You've managed to turn over some pretty nasty rocks with what you did," Janet gestured in the direction of the brute.

  "I won't tell you anything."

  "I'm not your problem anymore," Janet reached into a jacket pocket, she pulled out a small statue of a woman sitting on a stool, the woman looked African.

  "Do you know what this is?" Janet asked.

  I picked up the statue and examined it.

  "It looks old, there's some writing, I don't understand it though, sorry."

  "I have a story to tell you... you must have heard about the black van gang right?"

  "Ya... you shot them all."

  "I was still drinking then, I got put on that task force to get me out of the office, they knew one of the suspects, I had read his file.

  They sent me to a small city to investigate a tip someone had called in, said they had seen him. These things were usually BS, I investigated for two days but didn't find anything.

  That last night I was sitting at the hotel bar, some salesman was bitching he couldn't watch his favorite college team, said that he usually stayed at some other hotel, the only one in the area that had a full sports package.

  I remembered then, the suspect, he was a sports nut, and he had spent a lotta time in this city.

  I was drunk, did a stupid thing, I went to the hotel he was talking about, desk clerk told me there were four guys renting the same room said they were gone for dinner.

  I got him to give me the room key, I went to the room opened the door and there they were, all kitted out for a robbery... guns in their hands."

  "And you shot them all," I said.

  "Ya... between the eyes... they didn't even get a shot off."

  "Pretty good."

  "Except for one thing... I'm very good with a gun... but nobody's that good, and I was taught to shoot at the center of mass, it's was drilled into me, it felt like I had someone else's arm."

  "You were stressed out," I started to wonder why Janet was telling this story.

  "I spun the gun on my finger when I holstered it.

  That statue... it was my Great Grandmothers, she lived to be a hundred and ten, scary old crone... half nuts... only time she made sense was when she gave it to me, said she was gonna die... said it was magical, told me it saved her mother... she had been sold as a slave, to some guy they called the Whipper, his wagon was hijacked on their journey to his place... by some extremely strange people, they released her told her to run north... just run honey, don't worry about nothing else, they told her... she became free because of them."

  "Strange people?" I asked.

  "They had painted eyes, wore kilts... spoke with an odd accent."

  "Why are you telling me this?"

  "That statue... musta lost it ten times... always turned up... never where I expected it," Janet stared at me," is it magical?"

  "It could be... magic is easily hid."

  "Who made it?"

  "It would take weeks of research to find out, besides even if I knew I wouldn't tell you."

  "Hmm... the writing on it, I had it translated, it says: My daughter, I will always watch over you."

  "Do you have children?" I asked.

  "Yes, a daughter and two sons."

  "Well, you know what to do with it then."

  "Times up."

  The brute was back.

  I felt a hand grab my arm and I was roughly jerked to my feet, he led me out of the room and into the hall, I saw that there were other men in dark suits standing guard.

  We took the elevator down to the buildings parking garage, there was a van waiting for us, it looked like a police wagon except that I didn't recognize the name or insignia of the force.

  The two of us were soon sitting on steel benches in the back of the van as we travelled through the city streets.

  "Where are we going?" I asked.

  The brute stared at me for a few seconds, and then turned away, he had a large pistol in his hand which he rested on his lap.

  After about fifteen minutes I realized that we were heading for the large military base that I had noticed when I had first flown over this area.

  Soon we had pulled up to the base's large entrance gate, we stopped for a minute then the gate opened and we were waved through, we were then slowly meandering around a long line of enormous buildings.

  The van turned and we drove through an open garage door on the side of one of the large buildings, the van's rear door opened seconds after we had halted, I was jerked to my feet by the Brute.

  We were in the midst of a small group of foot soldiers after we exited the van, they escorted us to an ancient looking elevator, the Brute inserted an odd looking key into a keyhole beside the elevator door, he then punched in a long series of numbers into a keypad below the keyhole.

  The elevator door opened, I was pushed in by the Brute as he followed behind, one of the foot soldiers accompanied us.

  The elevator went down only three floors before the doors opened, I saw a large warehouse there were rows of crates and boxes.

  The two men each grabbed one of my arms as we walked through the warehouse, I looked at the crates as we walked, one of them was labelled ROSWELL 1947, for some reason the name sounded familiar.

  I looked at another crate, it looked much older than the others, the nails that held it together had rectangular heads, it was labelled AURORA TEXAS 1897.

  I wondered what was in the crates, probably just old paper records that had to be kept for legal reasons, I thought to myself.

  We soon came to a small alcove, in it there were two small jail cells facing each other, each had a bed and a primitive looking toilet.

  I was pushed into one of the cells, I heard the heav
y barred door clang shut behind me, I shuddered a bit, I heard the lock being turned.

  The Brute had me put my hands through a slot in the bars and then he undid my handcuffs.

  "Congratulations, you are one of the few people to get to look at Newfellows last equation," the Brute rasped, a humorless laugh followed.

  I was curious about what he had said and I looked around the alcove, then I saw it on the rear wall of the opposite jail cell.

  Someone had written an incredibly complicated equation, there were only a few symbols I recognized, some of them were so complicated they must have been oriental.

  "They've been studying that for fifty years, maybe you'll do better," the Brute laughed his humourless laugh again.

  I saw that he had brought a folding chair, he positioned it at the entrance of the alcove then sat on it, he put his pistol on his lap. It appeared I would not be left alone.

  I looked around my Spartan cell, there was nothing of interest, I walked over and sat on the bed, it was as hard as stone.

  I stared at the primitive steel toilet hoping that I would not have to pee, I saw the equation out of the corner of my eye again, something about it twigged something in my brain, I turned and looked at it, I studied it intently this time.

  Then I saw it, cunningly hidden amidst all the other gibberish, and then it all made sense, the Newfellow machine, being able to remember everything he had read and being guarded on his death bed.

  Newfellow had been a sorcerer, and from the looks of the spell he had written, he had escaped from his cell.

  He hadn't had pneumonia, he'd been drugged and then he had been guarded so he wouldn't escape. I suspected they had even faked even his death before they had imprisoned him here.

  "What happened to this Newfellow guy?" I asked the Brute.

  The Brute stared at me, "he picked the lock, he didn't get far."

  He was lying, I could tell, it was the first crack I had seen in his facade.

  I thought for a moment, if I had been Newfellow I would have made sure I opened the cell door after I had escaped, then everyone would assume that's the way I had done it. They probably thought he had just gotten lucky after leaving his cell.

  I saw the Brute turn and hold a brief conversation with someone out of earshot.

  He turned and looked at me, "you have a visitor."

  It was Frank, he had a concerned look on his face, he walked up to my cell and rested his hands on bars.

  "Kem... you have to co-operate with them... maybe I can get them to let you go."

  I walked over and then put my hands on top of his.

  "They're not going to let me go."

  "Just tell them what they want... please," Frank whined.

  "You know Frank... if you snuck over there... banged him on the head, got the keys... that would really impress me," I stared at him intently.

  Frank jerked his head around and looked at the Brute, then he looked back at me, a kind of madness seemed to pass over his eyes, then it faded, he snatched his hands back as if they had been burned.

  "You're the Devil!" he gasped.

  Frank turned and walked away, his gait was unsteady as he moved, I saw him slow a bit when he passed by the Brute, he glanced at him, then his gait steadied and he was gone.