by T. J. Mines
Quint turns back to see his security force putting in the last of the things they need on the road. He opens the back door of his escape vehicle and gets in. The leather seats will make this a pleasant ride. He's had the car prepared for the rough ride ahead. It's a luxury saloon he found sitting in a small village close to Du Bois a few years ago. He had it brought in and found some mechanics to fix it for him. He had them alter the suspension and computers to cope with the harsh terrain. He also had them enlarge the fuel tank and add mounts where now the last vat of gasoline is strapped. These are linked into the fuel system by separate lines which can be opened from inside the car. That way the car doesn't have to stop and has a theoretical range from Du Bois to Al Bari and back, twice. But he's never been able to try it.
He straps himself in and grabs a handheld terminal from the center console. He now has to back-up all his data and destroy the data stores in the house. For this he had another aide set it up. It takes a while and he has to be in the house for it to work, so he's going nowhere until it's done. The progress bar takes ages to fill up. The security force is now ready to go. It finally beeps a back-up complete. Quint stores the device. The destruction of the data here can do it's thing while he's not here. He gives the lead driver a go.
The garage door opens up to reveal a clear night. The wind is blowing hard, sending dust and sand everywhere. The driver starts the car, around them the dirt bikes rev their engines. As soon as the gap created by the door is big enough the drives floors it and speeds out of the garage. The bikers follow. Quint can see two of them speeding ahead to scout in front. To the left and right two more are protecting the sides and four riders bring up the rear guard. The last two bikes have passengers on facing back. They're carrying big guns to protect them from anybody following.
They're out of the town now and Quint settles down for a long trip. The alterations made to the suspension work as intended, leaving only minor discomfort. The dirt bikes have a harder time, jumping over the bumpy terrain. One of the front riders jumps over a larger ditch and lands front first, collapsing the front fork and sending the rider flying off into the ground. They're still in range of the guns and sensors, so when the hacks are purged the rider will be found and shot. Ah well, he still has plenty of protection left.
A shot fires. Quint tries to look back at what's happening. His straps prevent him from moving his head any more than to look to the sides.
"Who fired?" he demands from the driver.
"Not us, sir, Blake is down," the driver says.
"I saw that, he made a mistake," Quint says.
"No, sir, that was Jonathan. Blake was at the rear on Ginger's bike."
"How did they spot us?" Quint asks.
"Don't know sir, maybe someone was posting on the wall?"
Then all hell breaks loose. Heavy fire erupts from behind them. It stops as soon as it starts.
"What's happening!" Quint asks.
"The automatic defense system kicked in," the driver explains, "we're out of range but they got our rear four bikers."
"Fuck!" Quint slams the center console. "How many left?"
"Three."
"Okay, that should be enough to get us to safety. We don't have to stop anyway."
"The bikers must stop. They can't make it all the way to Al Bari."
"We don't need to go all the way to Al Bari," Quint says.
"What?" the driver shoots a quick look at Quint.
"Al Bari is already here," Quint explains, "Go to the rendezvous point. You'll see."
Jo-Ann and Ismael return at Jo-Ann's hotel room without any setbacks along the way. They sneaked out the same way they got in and traveled around the patrols and checkpoints setup to catch Ismael. It's taken them a fair bit longer than they planned though. It's past midnight and they're both tired.
Ismael sits down on the bed. Jo-Ann sits down beside him and puts an arm around him. Feeling safe after the flight from the Councilman's house, the emotions of loosing the Captain catch up to him. He covers his face and starts crying again. He's never lost anyone close before. Not as close as this. The Captain is family to him. His mentor, his guide, the uncle he's never had. He could always depend on the old man. The Captain taught him the basics and sculpted the ethical compass he now adheres to. How could he be the one to kill him. Sure, the rational part of him knows it's an accident and not meant to happen at all. But that doesn't take away the fact that it was his bolt that killed the man. In his heart he can't see it any other way: he murdered the Captain.
Jo-Ann holds him tight. Her closeness helps a bit. Her warmth comforts him.
"Ish," Jo-Ann says in a soft voice, "it's not your fault."
"I know," Ismael answers, sitting back up, "it feels that way."
"I understand," Jo-Ann says.
"Do you?" Ismael asks.
"I do, I've killed people before."
"But did you kill your mentor? Your boss?"
"No," Jo-Ann lets go of Ismael and looks down, "I killed my mother."
"You did?" Ismael is shocked at the confession. He looks at Jo-Ann, not sure he's still seeing the strong, confident woman he met only hours before.
"Yes, and no," Jo-Ann says. "When she was giving birth to me, there were complications. She didn't make it. I did. My father always blamed me for it."
Now Ismael comforts Jo-Ann. He holds her close in her moment of weakness. But after a moment she shrugs him off.
"That's all in the past," she says, her tough self restored, "we need to tell the remaining council what Seif did. And prepare to go after him."
Ismael sits up straight again and turns to Jo-Ann.
"I know who to go to," he says, "Ellen, one of Meryam's old friends. She's on the council and I trust her."
"We should go right away." Jo-Ann starts to slide off of the bed.
"We can't," Ismael says, "her home will be under surveillance."
"So, we got into Seif's house," Jo-Ann says.
"Yes, but we don't want to scare Ellen. We want here to listen to us. I'm too tired anyway."
"But Seif is getting away!" Jo-Ann protests.
"And we won't catch him at all if we're caught first. You know I'm supposed to be put on public trial right? And you, helping me evade the guards, will be put on the block right next to me."
Jo-Ann nods.
"You're right. So then what?" she asks.
"We sleep for now, wait for morning. Tomorrow we go to Ellen's office. We'll make sure we're in before the end of the night shift. Guards are at their worst at the end of their shift. She'll come in and we talk to her."
"Sounds good," Jo-Ann says and stands up from the bed. She starts taking off her clothes. She drops each piece on the floor until she's stripped down to her panties. She turns to the bed.
"Aren't you going to undress?" she asks.
Ismael is sitting there with his mouth open. The sight he's presented with arouses and embarrasses him at the same time. His face turns a bright red.
"Oh yeah, you're not used to it," Jo-Ann says. She pulls Ismael from the bed and pulls back the blankets.
"If you don't mind, I'm getting the most out of the time I get to sleep. Drool over me all you want but if you want to be worth anything tomorrow I suggest you get in here and get some sleep too."
With that she pulls the covers over herself and turns around.
"Could you get the lights?" she asks.
That morning Jo-Ann is the first to wake up. She punches Ismael in the back to wake him too. He did get into the bed with her after a few awkward minutes of staring. Glad he did have a rest after all she's now more than happy to get going. It's been too long anyway.
"I'm awake," Ismael grunts after the second poke.
Jo-Ann jumps from the bed and gathers her clothing to drop it in a pile on a chair. She turns on the light, walks into the bathroom and turns on the shower. Then back into the room to peek outside. It's still dark. The shower starts steaming up. She takes off her panties and throws them toward
s the chair with her clothes. Ismael is in the way. He catches the soft fabric in a reflex, then throws them on the floor as if they're contagious. Jo-Ann laughs.
She jumps into the shower for a quick clean. She washes her hair. It'll be wet all day, but that's better than it being dirty. Five minutes later she's done and toweling off. Ismael walks into the bathroom, diverting his eyes.
"Do you have a spare toothbrush?" he asks.
"Sure," she says, "have the hotel's. It's in the beaker there."
He grabs the hotel condiment and starts brushing his teeth. He's standing in his boxers and a t-shirt. He's not as muscled like most guards tend to be. He does look strong though, in a subtle way. As he moves she can see there's no fat on him. The loose shirts reveals parts of his back as he moves over the sink to rinse. He has strong shoulders. She also takes a good look at the narrow hips and tight ass in his shorts. If he'd be more loose than how he's being now she'd have considered him as a partner.
She can see him trying to peek at her in the mirror. It's steamed up so only her outline is visible.
"Aren't you going to take a shower?" she asks.
"No time," he answers around the toothbrush.
"We have time," Jo-Ann says as she drops the towel to the floor. He turns around, toothpaste dribbling from the corner of his mouth. She folds her arms, lifting her full breasts up to present them to Ismael. She can see the effect on his boxers.
"But then again, better get a head start," she says and walks out of the bathroom, "you never know what delays we'll encounter."
She has an internal laugh at the banter. These Du Bois locals are too easy to toy with. Get your fun anytime you can, her instructor in London told her once, it may be the last laugh you have.
She dresses in the same clothes as the night before. They need stealth and precision rather then blunt power or seduction. As she pulls on her pants Ismael walks in. His boxers are back to the natural state. She smiles at him.
"You know I'm just toying with you, right?" she asks.
Ismael frowns at her.
"I'm just making fun of your inexperience around women," she adds.
"That's not funny," Ismael says as he puts on his pants.
"Yes it is, and you know it."
"Well, to you it may be."
"See, it's funny," Jo-Ann says as she pulls her shirt over her head, her voice muffled.
"How would you like to be made fun of?" Ismael asks.
"Actually, I'd like that," she answers, "it lightens the mood and relieves stress."
A few minutes later they are both dressed. Jo-Ann puts her blades into their sheaths while Ismael straps the crossbow to his back. He grabs a few more bolts from Jo-Ann's storage. He also takes a blade for the close combat action. Jo-Ann stands next to him and rummages through the weaponry stored in the bottom. She grabs a grenade.
"Wait a minute," Ismael stops her, "we're not going to kill anyone today, just to be clear."
"It's a flash bang," Jo-Ann says and straps the thing to her belt.
"Oh, okay," Ismael says, "but promise me, no killing."
"Yeah yeah, no killing."
Ellen steps out into the street. He apartment is a good ways walk from the council buildings and she takes the opportunity to get her morning exercise. Other council members prefer the electric carts to drive them around underground, be she always walks in the brisk morning air.
She didn't sleep well after yesterday's events. Ismael, one of her best friend's brother, was accused of treason. She's spoken to him once or twice. She had dinner at their house many times as she and Meryam were close. So this news came as a shock to her. At first she didn't believe it. But on examining the order she saw it came directly from the Captain himself. The old man has never been wrong before, so it must be that Ismael is a traitor.
When she came home yesterday her street was blocked off from both sides. Everyone passing through was checked. She herself was checked twice, since she came up as a potential target for Ismael. But they let her through. Now the street is empty. The barriers are still there, but the guards are gone. She takes her mobile terminal from her bag and checks for the latest news. There are two important messages on the council message board. The first thing that pops up it the death of the Captain. She stops walking and reads the report.
This evening the Captain was found dead in Councilman Seif's home office. The Captain was there to protect Seif from the potential thread by Ismael Abadi. Seif's manservant was found dead as well. The Captain was killed by a crossbow bolt, the manservant with a knife. Seif is nowhere to be found.
Ellen thinks about this report. It's meant for the council members only so the public shouldn't have a clue yet. The Captain is well loved in Du Bois. Losing him is a disaster. And Quint has disappeared? That's strange. He of all people would be using this information to further his campaign to become the mayor.
Ellen takes a look at the second message on her device. It states that there was a glitch in the outer wall defense systems. When the glitch was found and fixed, the system picked up four riders and shot them down. So half the guard force is now looking into the Captain's death, and the other half is researching the glitch and riders. She continues on her way to work as she mulls the information over.
She reaches the central entrance to the council building where her office is. There is a long line of people being searched before they can enter. She walks past the line and up to the exit. She walks up to the door when the guard there stops her.
"Excuse me, ma'am, you'll need to wait in line just like the rest of them," he says.
"I'm sorry?" Ellen responds, "I'm a council member. I can walk into this building whenever I want to."
"Anyone can say they're a council member," the guard says.
"Who's your superior?" Ellen demands.
"He's busy processing the people trying to get in."
"Then you call him over here and let him explain that I'm on the council."
"Sorry ma'am, I can't do that," the guard stands his ground, "anyway, the council members all come in underground."
Ellen looks at the guard.
"So a council member can't walk to work, like you and all the normal people in Du Bois do?" She's getting angry now. She understands the necessity of the situation, but refuses to be treated this way. She fought hard to get to this point and she's not going to let a thing like this get her down.
She walks over to the front of the line waiting to be let inside. She cuts in front of the next person in line. The guards there stop her.
"Hey!" the woman behind her says.
"Halt!" the two guards processing the man in front of her shout, "stop now or we will arrest you!"
"Wait, wait," a third guard says as he comes forward. He takes Ellen by the arm and takes her with him beyond the checkpoint.
"I'm sorry Miss Lopez," he says once they're out of earshot from the rest of the people in line, "If I'd known you'd come on foot I would've instructed my people to let you in right away."
"I always come this way," Ellen says, annoyed that she has to explain herself.
"I'm so sorry Councilwoman," the man says again.
"Never mind," Ellen says, "can I get to work now?"
"Yes, certainly, ma'am," the guard says and lets her through.
Ellen walks to the central staircase and up to the second floor where her office is. The hallway is crawling with aides to the other council members. One of her own aides spots her.
"Ellen," the young man, Charles, says, "did you hear?"
"Yes," Ellen says, "I've read the news."
Ellen keeps on walking to her office. She needs to read the full message and what's related to it first before she can form an opinion.
"Charles," Ellen says, "can you get me every scrap of information the guards have gathered about the events from yesterday? I want it all send to my terminal in my office and don't want to be disturbed while I'm reading it."
"Will do, Ellen," Charles says.
She opens her door. Ismael is leaning against her desk. A blond woman lounges in her chair. Ellen looks down the hall. No one is looking at her, or can see what's in her office. She enters, closes the door and backs up to it.
"Hi Ellen," Ismael says, "how are you?"
Ellen is stunned. He shouldn't be there. He's a fugitive and wanted for treason. Yet he's standing here as relaxed as she has come to know him during her friendship with his sister. With a confidence befitting leader. Upon closer inspection, she does find something odd. His eyes are red and puffy. As if he's been crying.
"Just fine, thanks," she says, "what brings you here?"
"Business," Ismael answers.
"I thought so," Ellen says. She again notices the lady in her chair. She is clad in a tight fitting suit, showing off a lithe body Ellen always wanted to have herself.
"Who's your friend?" Ellen asks.
"This is Jo-Ann," Ismael says, but doesn't elaborate. Instead he walks up to her couch and invites Ellen to join him there. She sits down next to the young man she knew so well.
"As you probably know," Ismael starts.
"How did you get in here?" Ellen interrupts.
Jo-Ann, still behind the desk barks a laugh.
"We came in through the window," Ismael says, "now, can we talk about the important stuff?"
Ellen looks at the windows. There are no signs of breaking. How they did it is beyond her. The building is well guarded and getting past all that security should be impossible. She leaves it be for later.
"As you probably know," Ismael starts again, "the Captain is dead."
