by Don Dewey
“Hmm,” An’Kahar murmured. “I’m quite familiar with some of these. You and I have both used some of them in past identities. You believe they’re genuine?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, he has great means. Perhaps he obtained them as collectibles, for his display. Clearly you suggest he likes violence and is at heart a violent man.” He looked up from the pictures and ended with a lilt that turned his statement into a question.
“Oh yes, I saw that for myself. And if I’m right about the weapons showing his past, he’s very, very old. That makes him very dangerous too. But something else…”
“Yes, do tell...”
“Well, let’s assume I’m right.”
“Not hard to do, darling, since you’re so often right. I trust your instincts.” An’Kahar grinned at his lover.
“Thank you, but if I’m right, then consider this: might this man not have had some dealings with others of the Pure? He’s been around a looong time. He may have sought some out. He’s a ruthless business man, known for his opponents caving in or disappearing. He may not be working alone.”
“So we should look into his close associates, you think? We should invest the time and resources to build up a file on him?”
“I’m now officially intrigued, An’K. I believe we should. We fight our tendency to be dispassionate toward Normals, but this man seemed to enjoy mistreating the man he beat. He battered him like a cod, until I suspect he wasn’t breathing anymore. My last husband there in Crete, long ago,” Ruby said, “I killed him. I choked the life from him and was glad for it. Now, I’ve changed so much. I don’t think compassion makes us weaker, just better.”
She looked stricken, so An’Kahar started to say something. She raised a hand slightly to stop him. “I am curious if this is what other Pures are like. If so, well…” She let it hang there. “I killed one of his guards, maybe two. They were no doubt Normals. I did it just to reconnoiter and get us better information. What does that say about me?”
“So be it, dear, let’s just move on. We’re not Normals, and we don’t always live and act like them. Besides, you and I don’t take such actions without feeling badly, even if it’s deserved. You had a real purpose: the greater good, and all that. Let’s see just who’s in bed with this Mr. Schmidt, and who’s fighting him. We’ll build a very thick file on him, I think.”
Chapter 48
Attack!
Karl and his team were well on their way to the palatial estate of Maximus and Robert. The two of them lived together, but had designed their home to give them each all the privacy they wanted. They had their own laboratories, customized for their unique skill sets and interests. They also had separate servants and guards, explicitly trained to serve their master’s needs. Their people were accustomed to them sharing their living space, and were fairly comfortable with each other. Their households were somewhat merged while still retaining separate allegiances. They had long since decided they’d both be more secure covering each other’s backs; thus, this arrangement.
As Karl got close, he received reports from his surveillance teams, sent out hours ahead. Everything seemed normal at the estate, which was surprising, considering the massacre they’d already perpetrated against M & R. He deployed his team with the assumption that there were defenses much as he would have at his own estate. A rocket launcher was on the shoulder of an ex-marine. A sniper was on either side of the rocketeer. Karl was on the opposite side of the house, on a hill overlooking the rear pool and tennis courts. With him were the other five men of his team. They were all ex-military of some kind, and were almost arrogant in their skills.
On his throat mic, Karl instructed the three men on the opposite side of the house to wait until they got a signal from him before striking. If for some reason they had to fire, they were to take out targets most dangerous to Karl’s team, and the rocket launcher was only, and he stressed, only, to be used on the central area of the several tentacled house.
Karl waved his team in, moving with practiced stealth toward the rear of the house. He split his team up and sent three men to the west wing and took two with him toward the east wing. Their orders were simple: kill the men whose pictures they’d memorized, and take out anyone else they encountered, to hide their tracks.
As Karl and his two men got to the door, apparently unnoticed, lights came on inside the house as well as blinding lights outside. Karl’s reaction was instant: he raised his weapon and shot out the lights one by one. He nodded toward the door and the man on his left shot the lock and pushed the door open. Karl sent two men in, one high and one low, guns extended. Nothing. No return fire, no people, no anything. “Anything there?” Karl asked on his throat mic of the other team.
“Nothing, sir. No people sighted. We’re in the building, sir.”
“Sweep your wing,” Karl instructed. “Do it quickly and return to origin.” With that he moved his own men on further into the building with a flick of his head.
Sudden automatic weapons fire made it clear there was a problem somewhere. Karl checked for where on his mic, and got no response. He waved three men in, and a moment later there was more automatic weapons fire, and two of his men were cut in half by hidden machine guns. Karl and his remaining men dropped to avoid fire, and Karl realized what had happened. Max and Robert either had evacuated, leaving auto systems on hot, or they were in there, waiting for him. He would never have thought they could ambush him, nor that they would leave their place unattended. Neither scenario seemed likely, but what else was there?
What he didn’t know was that the few people remaining in the house had turned on the weapons systems and locked themselves in the safe room, which was actually more of a bunker. Those were their orders. It was like being in a steel vault, with an underground air source that brought in air from some distance. One of Karl’s RPGs couldn’t have broken through into that room.
Frustrated, Karl wasn’t willing to risk himself to do more damage. He indicated to the men with him that they were withdrawing, and a seriously angry Karl led the way. As they moved quickly and as covertly as possible away from the house, another of his men went down, an explosive bullet tearing a large hole in his chest. Karl and the other survivor looked around and saw nobody. Hearing a whirling noise, Karl looked up just in time to dodge a burst of fire from a hovering black drone. He shot at it with a reflexive action in an attempt to discourage it, and then ran like the drone was the devil incarnate. The kind of small explosive charge that hit his man and dropped him could quite possibly kill Karl too. Taking stations behind trees, he and his surviving soldier shot and disabled the drone. Fearing more were on site and on their way, they lost no time getting the rest of the way out. Nothing and nobody was uglier or meaner than a frustrated Karl Schmidt.
Chapter 49
Counter Attack
The assertion earlier on from Karl that Maximus had adapted well to modern methods of war and fighting was very accurate. It wasn’t the weapons or techniques so much as it was the man: he was a warrior, with whatever was available. Maximus ordered everyone out of the house. They desperately wanted their people safe through this conflict.
Max was giving orders. “I know a full evacuation isn’t realistic, but the majority of you should leave. Some have to stay so the place is occupied, and looks the part. Who’s willing to stay?”
They treated their people well, and more than enough volunteered. They picked a few, mostly those without families, and made their plans. There was a safe room in the basement, which was ready to be used by the five people he left on site. They’d set up automatic weapons to cover areas which had to be crossed after anyone entered the house. That meant four areas. The men on site would monitor, and then enable the automatics. After that enabling, they were to immediately close themselves off in the safe room.
As they got closer Maximus used a burner cell to contact the local police, and reported a bomb threat in a local mall. That kind of thing can’t be ignored, and would
keep most of the local Leos busy. Another call to the airport twenty miles away gave an anonymous tip regarding an explosive device armed with sarin toxin ready to be deployed there. As deadly as sarin is, the airport was locked down and special teams were brought in to search. There was no point in having loose law enforcement around, zooming in when the pyrotechnics started.
An attack team of their own was waiting for a call about a mile away, ready to descend on the house in the event it was actually attacked.
Max and Robert were nearing Karl’s estate at very nearly the same time he was approaching theirs. He was ahead of them, and was entering as they were doing their own recon. Max got a text that said simply, “ENEMY INSIDE: READY TO ENGAGE.”
Maximus frowned. “Blast, they’re already at our place. I’ll bet Karl isn’t even here; he might’ve gone with his men, just as we have. Hmmm.”
“What Max?” Robert asked.
“I never believed in a ‘properly measured response.’ They blow something up, we do the same, that kind of thing. That never ends a war, and it doesn’t put enough fear into the enemy. Governments always screw it up with that philosophy. Rome believed in punitive strategies, and they ruled the world for a long time. They eliminated the ability of their enemies to wage war. We have to hit now, and hit hard. Any more reconnoitering will be a waste of time. We’ll have some losses however we proceed. Speed is more important right now. I really wish we’d had more of those drones finished, or not left them at our estate; this would’ve been more thorough and much easier.”
He waved their first line of troops toward the house. Snipers from turrets built into the roofline shot at the advancing men, and several went down. Maximus touched his throat mic and said to everyone on his frequency, “Terry, get your team in to get those men out of there. Everyone else, take cover and continue firing until the objective is destroyed. Birds away, now!” Robert almost cowered as the well trained soldiers under the command of Maximus Palamos began their campaign.
At his signal, bazookas opened up and the roofline of the enormous house exploded in sections. It seemed to him that his men had all taken adequate cover. He watched Terry as closely as he could, glad for her skill and concerned to be putting her in harm’s way. She’s good, and I love watching her work.
“Primary team, insert now!” That command sent ten men into serious jeopardy. They moved straight toward the house, center section, carrying two heavy packages. Three men carried each package while two ran to the sides, firing at anything that moved. One center man carrying a package dropped. A wing man took his place immediately. By the time they were at the house there were seven of them instead of ten, but both packages made it.
“Set and run! ” Max yelled again into his mic.
The seven survivors ran like the devil himself was pursuing hot on their tails. And that was nearly the case. They had only sixty seconds to get far enough away to survive the explosive devices they’d set. Every second would count. The bombs had big payloads, and the plan hadn’t been to necessarily use both. One was a backup. This would be big. Six men made it to the tree line, and when the explosion hit, the seventh was instantly killed by the blast. The others suffered some wounds from wooden shrapnel, some from the very trees that saved their lives. Terry had made it out, but was knocked flat from the concussion. Maximus jumped up and personally helped her to safety.
When the debris and smoke cleared, which took a while, they were looking at a blast hole a hundred feet across. Robert was at a loss for words, standing with his mouth open and his ears still covered. Max put his mouth close to Robert’s ear and loudly yelled. “Take your hands down and act like a soldier. Enjoy this moment of victory!” He tugged one of Robert’s arms down.
The soldiers with them were forming up as they watched the scene, and Max gave them a huge grin. “Well done, guys!” He pumped his right arm up and down. He was pretty sure they would understand what he said, even though they all were deaf from the concussive force of the explosives. Max turned back to the place where the house had been, and watched as mountains of debris continued to fall everywhere. “Okay, Karl, game on.”
Chapter 50
The Beginning and the End
Two nights ago they’d bundled Kenneth up with the few things he had with him and whisked him away to a different house. It was still luxurious, but hours away from the first one. Then Kenneth spent another lousy day with Bertram again, and Karl never showed.
His host, Karl something or other, was a monster. Maybe deranged, maybe not, but a monster nonetheless. Kenneth knew he had to get out of there. This had gone past all reason. When his host finally did show up, he walked over to him and asked if he was enjoying the Kopi Luwak coffee. Kenneth nodded, too afraid to trust his voice at the moment.
“Sorry for the inconvenience of the move, Kenneth, but it had to be done. I find myself at war with some other Pures and decided to get involved in it personally. It’s funny really, because it’s been a long time since I was sure where any others were, other than Gheret. But now, with you here, writing our story, I find myself in a major conflict with at least two of them.
“Also troubling to me recently is another Normal, like you, who has things stirred up a great deal in my New York enterprises. I’ll enjoy killing him, and I’ll do it myself. I believe I’ve become too removed from the day-to-day parts of my business. He’s a New York policeman, a man who keeps poking into things of no business to him, and he’s poked at me and my interests for the last time. If we had the time I’d have had you write his obituary, and send it to him before I kill him. You people always muck up things, I guess because there are so many of you, but now and then one of you has some talent. In every horde of mice, one or two show unusual intelligence – same thing. This Detective Goyette is off somehow.” He had a faraway look in his eye but then he smiled. “Some of you Normals, like Adolf, and Kublai Khan, and even Stalin, whom I didn’t much care for, I’m afraid, have real talent. You know, I suspected Kublai of being a Pure for a while, but alas, he was not. You also have some talent, Kenneth. Have you finished today’s notes on your laptop?”
“Just finishing them now, sir, if you can wait just a moment.” Kenneth paused and looked up at Karl. “I didn’t believe you at first, just as you thought. But now, I feel like I’ve seen an aspect of our race on this planet known by very few. I’ve…”
“Yes, well, just finish your work please.” Karl cut Kenneth off with his clipped words, shot out like slugs from a gun. Karl stood watching for several minutes as Kenneth typed. When he saw him save the document, he asked politely, “All done?”
Kenneth looked up at him. “Yes, all done. Do I get to leave now? I’ve done all you asked of me. You can trust me to never share any of this with anyone, ever!” Kenneth sounded very sincere. The fear he had fought down in himself every day during this ordeal had finally subsided. He had gotten comfortable with his setting.
“Kenneth, you’re a reporter. I don’t expect you could keep quiet about this story. Oh yes, you get to leave all right. I haven’t any more time, during this crisis, to spend with you, and I can hardly just let you walk away. You know entirely too much about me.” With that he reached his left arm out, lifted Kenneth to his feet, and battered his face from side to side with his right fist. Teeth and blood flew, and Kenneth tried to scream. Karl gave him a furious blow to his stomach, ending all attempts at screaming. Producing a slim blade in his right hand, Karl laughed. “I never told you how you’d leave. It will be as a corpse, and you should’ve seen it coming, Mr. Investigative Reporter.” The blade slipped in without any resistance, but slowly, as if Karl relished the feel of the flesh being violated by the dagger. Blood spewed out on Karl’s fine suit and tailored dress shirt, with Kenneth’s desperate, pain filled screams bubbling from his blood-filled mouth echoing through the house. Images of his children flashed through Kenneth’s mind as he began to fade. His scream stopped abruptly and the room was silent. Karl dropped Kenneth’s body to the floor.
He knelt down by the body of his dead guest, pulling his knife out with a hand slick with blood. He wiped the blade off on Kenneth’s shirt, and then patted Kenneth’s cheek with his bloody hand. “Well, you wouldn’t have lived that long anyway, maybe fifty more years or so.” He wiped his hand down the dead man’s shirt to wipe off most of the blood. “Thank you, Kenneth. Your part in this is done. I did enjoy telling you about some of my enemies. You do, or rather did, have a flair for words.” With that he gave a harsh laugh that didn’t fit very well with his cultured clothing and appearance, but did suit his blood spattered appearance of the moment.
He walked out into the next room and Bertram rushed up to him. “Clean up the room, dispose of the body, and take his laptop and everything else he had in his room to my study. I have to follow up with Max Palamos and Robert Dunning. This is truly war, and I intend to win.
“That nosey cop who seems to be everywhere I don’t want him to be has to go too. Get the latest Intel on him and get it to me. Life sometimes gets too complicated - I need to eliminate some of the complications soon. Stay here until I call for you and then bring me what you have on that detective.”
Karl went to his suite and changed clothes. Wearing too much blood would put people off, he thought with a chuckle. Although some of them would do well to see it and remember it.
***
An elite squad of Maximus’ men had surreptitiously followed Karl and his one surviving mercenary as they fled the battle scene at Max and Robert’s home. They followed in spite of the circuitous route, the backtracking and the car changes Karl incorporated into the trip in order to make sure they weren’t followed. The next day, as Karl and his entourage arrived at this different estate, the one to which he had transferred Kenneth before killing him, that same squad was still following. They positioned themselves with a good view of the main building, a large stone Tudor with an added wing that jutted out the right side as it was viewed from the front. They set up with automatic weapons, watching from two hides, patiently waiting for Karl to show himself.
