The Last Iota

by Robert Kroese

  Keane shrugged. “It’s all we’ve got. If they don’t take the deal, we’re all going to prison for a long time.”

  I unmuted my comm and reiterated what Keane had said. April didn’t sound optimistic.

  “I’ll give it a shot,” she said. “When will you have the coin?”

  “Tomorrow morning,” I said, trying to sound confident. “At the latest.” I glanced at Keane and he gave me a curt nod before returning to his work.

  “All right,” said April. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “You, too.” I ended the call. “Is your patch ready?” I asked, walking toward the kitchen.

  “Almost,” Keane replied.

  I opened the fridge, but it was empty. Going through the cupboards, I managed to find a few cans of chicken soup. I opened one and heated it up in the microwave. If I was going into a war zone, I wasn’t doing it on an empty stomach. I gulped down the soup and a couple of glasses of water and then messaged for a cab. I found a duffel bag in one of the closets and threw Conroy’s gear into it. My comm chirped to tell me the car was downstairs.

  “The comm network is probably still down in the DZ,” I said. “Are we going to be able to communicate?”

  “Once the patch is uploaded, yes. I can secure a one-to-one channel through the Minotaur system.”

  “Have you found a break in the wall for me?” I was wondering if I was going to have to have the driver stop at the hardware store so I could fabricate another grappling hook.

  “No need,” Keane replied. “You’re going through the front door.”

  “Well,” I said, “that sounds like a terrible idea.”

  “Trust me, Fowler. Go to the checkpoint closest to the safe house address I gave you. Call me when you get there.”

  “All right,” I said. “Good luck.” I grabbed the duffel bag and walked out the door.

  Two minutes later I was in a car on the way to the West Rosecrans checkpoint. I had the driver drop me off in a 7-Eleven parking lot a few blocks from the checkpoint. I went behind the building and called Keane. It took me awhile to get a signal; apparently Green River was blocking comm transmissions for some distance outside the DZ as well.

  “I’m just outside the DZ,” I said. “What do I do now?”

  “Are you somewhere you can put on the helmet?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, put it on and activate the Minotaur system.”

  I did so, reluctantly. If that helmet was still assigned to Conroy, it wouldn’t take Green River long to track me down. I had to trust Keane knew what he was doing.

  “Excellent,” said Keane. “I see you: two hundred meters west-southwest of the Rosecrans checkpoint. Is your display up?”

  A progress indicated, just visible at the bottom of my vision, scaled up to 100 percent and then disappeared. It was replaced by the message:

  Hello, Major Tom Phan

  “Seriously, Keane?” I said. “Major Phan, Tom? Was Captain Bogus McFakerson taken?”

  “Can you hear me, Major Tom?” asked Keane’s voice in my ear. “Ground control to Major Tom.”

  I hung up the comm. “Fucking hilarious, Keane,” I said into the helmet mic.

  “You’ve really made the grade, Major Tom,” Keane said. “Although the papers are inquiring why you’re wearing Conroy’s shirt.”

  “Just tell me what to do, Keane.”

  “It’s time to leave the capsule if you dare.”

  “Please get this out of your system before I’m actually inside the DZ,” I said.

  “I think I’m done,” said Keane. “Proceed to the checkpoint.”

  “And then?”

  “Tell the knucklehead at the gate that you’re Major Phan, Tom, and you’re late for meeting with General Malaise. Improvise, Fowler. It keeps you young.”

  “Fuck you,” I said. “Going radio silent for now. If you don’t hear from me in the next ten minutes, your stupid gag of a pseudonym got me killed. I hope it was worth it.” I took off the helmet, turned it off, and stuffed it back in the duffel bag. I zipped up the bag and made my way through the alley toward the checkpoint. I took my time, avoiding traffic and scanning for cops. If I got arrested at this point, it would just be embarrassing.

  Fortunately, I made it to the checkpoint without being spotted. Unfortunately, there were two LAPD officers at the checkpoint. They looked bored, as their job seemed to have been taken over by Green River personnel. Presumably Green River was checking their own people in and out, and they probably weren’t letting any civilians through, which didn’t give the cops much to do. I wondered how Canaan had managed to pull this off. He had to have made a deal with someone at pretty high levels to get the LAPD to roll over for his mercenaries.

  The checkpoint itself was an old highway underpass that had mostly been blocked off with chain-link fencing and Jersey barriers. In front of a rolling section of fence that served as a gate stood two uniformed Green River mercenaries with M4-A4 carbines. The cops were standing next to a police cruiser, chatting, just outside and to the left of the gate.

  I figured my best bet was to walk purposefully toward the gate, ignoring the cops completely. I was sure they’d seen my picture by now, but I thought it was pretty unlikely they’d recognize me under these circumstances. The human brain tends to see what it expects to see, and these guys would not expect to see a murder suspect walking right past them in a military uniform. As I neared the gate, I picked up my pace. So far, so good. One of the cops glanced at me, but I saw no hint of recognition in his eyes. I tried to give the impression of being in a hurry and a little irritated.

  This plan hit a snag as I heard a car approaching from behind me. I turned to see headlights headed straight for me. It was my own fault; I was so intent on the checkpoint that I’d forgotten I was walking down an actual street. There hadn’t been any traffic until now because the only possible destination for someone in a car headed down this street was the DZ.

  My first instinct was to move out of the way. Unfortunately, there was no place to run except right into the arms of the nearest cop. It was one thing to walk past a cop at a distance of thirty feet; it was another to literally run right into him. I turned and stood my ground. The driver hit the brakes, squealing to a halt mere inches from me. I managed not to flinch.

  I could see now that the car was actually an urban utility vehicle; it looked like a modified version of the Ranger Special Operations Vehicle I used to drive around Jeddah. I could see there were two people in the vehicle, but I couldn’t make out faces against the glare of the headlights. What happened next was going to be highly dependent on who was in that car. If they outranked me, I was in for a serious tongue-lashing and probably enough drama that the cops would get involved. That would be very, very bad for me. So when the doors flew open and two twenty-something recruits hopped out, I smiled.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” one of them yelled. The other one came around the car toward me. They wore Green River uniforms but I saw no insignia on either of them. Presumably that meant they were still in training and hadn’t been assigned a formal rank. These guys were the Green River equivalent of enlisted men.

  “That’s ‘what the fuck do you think you’re doing, sir,’” I said coldly, turning slightly to allow him to see the golden oak leaf on my shoulder.

  “Oh, shit,” said the one who had yelled.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Oh, shit. You two fucknuts are lucky I’m in a hurry. What are your names?”

  “Trainees Stoltz and Ramos, sir,” said the first man. The two snapped to attention and saluted.

  “Barreling into a checkpoint is a good way to get yourself killed, Trainees Stoltz and Ramos.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Stoltz. “Sorry, sir. The captain sent us to get some supplies and we got lost. We’re a little late, sir.”

  “How long you been with Green River, Stoltz?”

  “Just finished training, sir. This is our first assignment.”

 
“Try not to get anybody killed,” I said. “As you were.”

  “Yes, sir!” they both shouted.

  I turned on my heel and marched toward the men at the gate. I stopped about three feet away. “I don’t know where they find these morons,” I said.

  “Yes, sir,” said the man to my right. “ID, sir?”

  “ID?” I said, letting the irritation in my voice escalate a notch. “Last time they just scanned me. Jesus, I don’t have time for this shit.”

  “Yes, sir,” said the man. “That should be fine. Please hold still.” He unclipped a retinal scanner from his belt and held it up to my left eye. After a second, the device beeped and he looked at the small display at its base. “Very good, sir,” he said. “Welcome back to the DZ, Major Phan.”

  I nodded and faced the gate. The other man pulled it aside and I walked through. Once I was on the inside, I allowed myself a sigh of relief.

  “Sir,” called the man behind me. Shit.

  I spun around. “Yes, Lieutenant. What is it?”

  “Are you on foot, sir?”

  Both sentries were watching me now, and the two cops had taken an interest as well. The two rookies had gotten back in their vehicle, which was very slowly approaching the checkpoint.

  “Lieutenant Roberts was supposed to pick me up,” I said. “He’s late, as usual.”

  “Do you want me to call for transport, sir?” the man asked. “It may be a few minutes.”

  “We can drive you, sir,” yelled Stoltz, leaning out of his vehicle. “Where you headed?”

  Where am I headed? I thought. I could give him cross streets, but I had no idea whether or not Gwen’s neighborhood was under Green River control at this point. It would be a tad suspicious if I gave them a location that hadn’t been secured yet.

  “I don’t want to get you in trouble with your captain, Stoltz,” I yelled. “Where are you boys headed?”

  “Alpha Base,” said Stoltz.

  “All right,” I said. “That’ll do. Hurry up.” I had no clue where Alpha Base was, but the odds were it was closer to the safe house than where I was now. And right now I just needed to get away from those cops.

  The guard checked Stoltz’s and Ramos’s IDs and waved them through. The cops, to my relief, seemed to have lost interest in me. Stoltz pulled up next to me and I got in the back.

  “Sorry again about almost running you over, Major. Won’t happen again.”

  “No, it won’t,” I said. “Drive.”

  Stoltz nodded. He and Ramos put on their helmets, so I did the same. I activated mine so Keane would know I’d made it inside.

  Stoltz drove east about a half mile and then turned north. The streets appeared to be deserted. Hopefully Alpha Base wasn’t too much farther. From this neighborhood it was a short walk to the safe house location, but it would be highly suspicious if I had Stoltz drop me off here. Better to get to Alpha Base and slip away quietly, even if it meant walking a bit farther.

  We’d only gone a few blocks to the north when I heard gunshots from somewhere on the right side of the street, up high. The windshield shattered and Stoltz slumped over the steering wheel and the vehicle careened to the right, slamming into a pickup parked against the sidewalk. My body flew forward, my helmet banging into the driver’s seat in front of me. Dazed, I slumped to the floor and felt for the door handle. I located it, pulled, and rolled out of the vehicle onto the pavement.

  I crawled to Stoltz’s door and pulled it open. He was sitting slumped over, his head against the steering wheel, shoulder straining against the seat belt. I couldn’t see where he was hit, but he wasn’t moving. I shoved him back, undid the seat belt, and pulled him toward me. Ramos was crouched in front of his seat, mumbling, “What do I do? What do I do?”

  “Ramos!” I snapped. “Climb over the driver’s seat toward me.”

  He did so as I pulled Stoltz toward the rear tire, my arms around his chest. Stoltz let out a groan.

  “Help me get his helmet off,” I said. I felt something warm and sticky on my fingers.

  Ramos unstrapped the helmet while I held Stoltz. “Get some light on him,” I said. “Where is he hit?”

  Ramos felt around frantically for several seconds, eventually producing a flashlight, which he shined on Stoltz’s face. Apparently not seeing an entry wound there, he moved the light down to Stoltz’s neck. Stoltz groaned again. “Lotta blood,” said Ramos. “Hard to see.”

  “Is it spurting from somewhere?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so,” said Ramos. “I think it missed the artery.”

  “You got a medkit on you? Some bandages?”

  Ramos nodded and felt around some more.

  “Stoltz,” I said. “Can you move your fingers?”

  Stoltz groaned again but didn’t move. Hard to tell, but the bullet might have nicked his spinal cord. Bad news, but not as bad as hitting an artery. Ramos produced some gauze pads and tape and we patched Stoltz up as best we could.

  “We gotta get out of this street,” I said. “Grab his feet and we’ll run for that alley.”

  Ramos got Stoltz’s feet and we ran for it. A shot rang out and I saw it hit the pavement next to Ramos’s boot. We made it to the alley and I collapsed with Stoltz on top of me. Judging from the angle of that last shot, we now at least had some cover.

  “Should I call for an ambulance?” said Ramos.

  “How far are we from Alpha Base?”

  “Um, I don’t know. Ten blocks?”

  Shit. We couldn’t carry Stoltz ten blocks. “Call for backup and a medic,” I said. “Tell them we’ve got a sniper up high on the east side of Alameda, just north of Willowbrook.” It wasn’t necessary to give our location; they’d pinpoint us with Minotaur.

  I heard Ramos murmuring into his mic. Now what? Leave this terrified kid with his paralyzed friend in an alley? Wait with them until backup arrived and then try to sneak away? Ride back with them to Alpha Base? Now that Green River had bases set up in the DZ, I assumed they’d take him to the nearest base first for triage and then decide if his injuries warranted a trip to the hospital. That was probably my best option. Once at Alpha Base, Major Tom could make his exit.

  So I sat there in the alley for the next ten minutes, waiting for more guys who would definitely kill me if they had any idea who I was. I tried to convince myself that it was okay to leave, that Stoltz and Ramos were the bad guys, but it was no good. They were just stupid kids who took a job thinking they were going to be bodyguards for some sheik in Dubai, and here they were hiding from a gangbanger with a rifle in an alley in Compton. It occurred to me as I waited there that Keane was probably shitting himself wondering what I was doing. He hadn’t yet broken radio silence, probably assuming—correctly—that I was not in a position to respond.

  An armored personnel carrier pulled up to the mouth of the alley and two men jumped out with a stretcher. A third followed them. The two with the stretcher put it down next to Stoltz, and I handed him off to one of them. They lifted him onto the stretcher and then began carrying him to the vehicle. I wiped my hands on my pants and looked up to see the third man standing in front of me.

  “Major Phan,” he said, and I swear for a second I thought he was telling me how excited he was to meet me. Then he added, “I’m Lieutenant Simms. You must have just arrived.” His voice sounded oddly familiar, but I couldn’t make out his face in the dim light of the alley.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Just got in from Phoenix.” Don’t ask me why I said Phoenix; it just seemed like a good place to have just come from. “We should get back to Alpha Base.”

  “Hang on a sec, Major,” Simms said, blocking my way. Behind him Ramos was watching as the two men had loaded the stretcher into the vehicle. “Are you sure we haven’t met?”

  I suddenly realized how I knew this guy’s voice. He’d been one of the squad that had cleared out Gwen’s apartment building. “Lieutenant Simms,” I snapped. “We need to get Private Stoltz medical attention. Once we’re back at base, I
’ll be happy to—”

  “Lieutenant?” called Ramos, taking a step toward us. “Everything okay?” He shone his flashlight in our direction, and for a moment the light shone full on my face. Unless Simms had some kind of visual impairment, there was no way he didn’t recognize me.

  I’d been caught.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  I launched myself toward him, bringing my forearms up in front of my chest. I’d have gone for his throat, but thanks to Ramos’s light in my eyes, I couldn’t see a damn thing, so I decided on a less precise maneuver. As I struck him, I snapped my fists forward, knocking him off balance. He staggered backward and fell to the ground a few feet in front of Ramos. I bounced backward from the blow, spun around and ran. I made it five paces before somebody—presumably Lieutenant Simms—started shooting at me. I felt a bullet graze the outside of my right leg. Smart, aiming where the armor wasn’t as thick. But he hadn’t had time to take careful aim, and I rounded the corner to the right, unwounded except for the scratch on my leg.

  “Keane!” I barked, running down the alley to the north. “Got a bit of a situation!”

  “So I see,” replied Keane. “Keep going down this alley, then turn left at the street. Your Tom Phan identity seems to have become a liability. I’m working on removing you from the system.”

  I had reached the alley and went left.

  “What if I ditch the helmet?” I said.

  “I don’t recommend it,” said Keane. “Access to Minotaur is one of the few advantages we have. If you get rid of the helmet, we’ll be incommunicado.”

  He was right. The comm network was down in the DZ. I’d be flying blind without the helmet. Unfortunately that meant until Keane could scrub Major Phan from the system, Green River could track every move I made. I wondered how long it would take them to determine that Tom Phan wasn’t even a real person. Once they figured that out, they’d know their system had been hacked.

  “Fifty feet ahead on your left there’s a doorway,” said Keane. “Go inside the building. You may have to break the door in.”

  By the time he’d finished talking, I’d reached the door and verified it was locked. No time for finesse; I drew the Glock and shot the lock five times, then gave the door a kick. It swung open. I saw the glare of headlights approaching from behind, then heard a burst of automatic weapon fire. I ran inside.