Humans Only: A Jake Dani Novel (Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Book 2)

by Victory Crayne

  “Chima, what is that dark stuff on the right blocking the stars?”

  “That is Fortune Peak.”

  “Vincent, we’re near Fortune Peak on our right.”

  I realized I didn’t have a comm.

  “Ron, can you give me a comm?”

  He pulled one out of a compartment in the dash and handed it to me.

  While I put it on, Ron yelled.

  “Jake!”

  “What?”

  “Something’s coming. In the air.”

  “Helmet, show me what Ron sees.”

  He zoomed the focus on the source of a searchlight. A helicopter, about six miles away and with its search light pointing at the ground.

  “It’s far too soon for our guys. It must be the Chester cops.”

  Gancha pulled down a scope rifle and checked its ammo. She went out the back door.

  “Ron, can you use a rifle too?” I asked.

  He got a rifle with scope from over his head, opened the door, and left.

  “Helmet, split the view in half. Gancha’s on the left, Ron’s the right.”

  I felt a draft.

  “And close the frickin’ door. It’s cold in here.”

  Soon I saw two beams of light coming from the sky.

  The search lights moved left and right as I remembered the dirt road curved.

  “They are looking for us. Get ready. Shoot out that damned spotlight. We can’t be seen, even from a distance.”

  Two long and tense minutes later, the left side view in my helmet jerked. Gancha fired.

  “Ron, can you lay another spike chain across the road?”

  “Now? Or after I shoot?”

  “After. There’s time.”

  The searchlight came closer, maybe a half mile away, and then two shots, both from Gancha and Ron’s rifles, jerked the view. The lights went out.

  “They’ll know we are close to that point. Better drive on.”

  Gancha opened the back door and took another spiked chain from its box. She held it up.

  Mean looking sucker. Should shred any tires unfortunate enough to cross it.

  Ron took the chain and lay it across the overgrown dirt road.

  Then Ron got into his driver’s seat. Soon the van lurched forward.

  The damned road curved to the right again.

  Ron stopped the van. “Where do I go next?”

  “I dunno. Let’s sit for a while.”

  Ron rolled down his window, turned off the engine, and looked outside. My view of his helmet showed hundreds of stars. So there was no cloud cover, which would have been nice.

  Can’t have everything.

  With the engine off, a bevy of high-pitched clicks and other sounds hit my ears. A loud scream of pain came next, followed by silence. Then a loud roar. A gofer had taken down something. Maybe a bopum or a greeper. The roar was its bragging. Or maybe a signal to young gofers that dinner was ready.

  Damn Rossa. Too frickin’ wild for my tastes.

  I was a city boy and being out here in the wild was not comfortable.

  I struggled out of the bed and climbed to the back of the van. Gancha stood with her rifle pointed up.

  “Think they’ll give up?” she asked.

  “I doubt it,” I replied. “At least Coocher won’t. He knows his bacon is burnt to a crisp if we get that confession to the police. If he had any influence on the local cops, they’ll seek us out. After all, we killed several.”

  “The helo went away. I can hear it in the distance,” Ron added.

  “Now all we have to do is wait. Maybe the Chester Police will find another way to get to us. Chima, are we still in Chester County?”

  “Affirmative.”

  I looked at Ron.

  “So they might get the county sheriff to search for us. They know these back roads better than we do.”

  Gancha added, “You’d better get some sleep.”

  “As soon as the adrenaline wears off.”

  I got back in the van and laid on the bed. Gancha took something from the medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of water from the portable frig.

  She handed me a pill and a bottle. “Synthetic morphine.”

  I hesitated.

  “One will cut the pain and help you get some rest. Ron and I will stand guard. We’ll wake you if we need you.”

  I took the pill and swallowed it with water.

  It would need about thirty minutes to take effect. During that time, we three sat without saying a word.

  I heard more clicks and screams in the distance. I had no idea when I fell asleep.

  “Jake, wake up,” said Ron.

  I snapped my eyes open. I still had on my Z helmet.

  “What’s up?”

  “It’s daylight.”

  So it was. I glanced at the countdown clock in my helmet. Just thirty minutes to go.

  “I checked with Vincent, who asked the helo,” said Ron. “They’ll be in the area in forty-two minutes.”

  That’s a long time to wait when your life is at stake.

  Ron munched on something.

  “What are you eating?”

  “I got hungry waiting for you to finish your nap.”

  I watched as he drank from a cup. Watching him eat made me hungry.

  “Where’s the food?” I asked Gancha.

  She pointed.

  Sure enough, there rested a gray box with a lid handle. I pulled it to my lap.

  “Anyone chasing us?”

  “The police band said the cops raised our last spiked chain. That was three hours ago. We can expect company soon.”

  “Spread another chain behind us and drive a little farther.”

  Ron replied, “Sorry, Jake. Wish I could. We don’t have any more.”

  He drove us another mile but there were no bends, only a gradual curve to the right. He had to turn to get around boulders. We stopped at the bottom of a hill. I don’t know how he followed any road. All I could see was grass. Thank heavens our van was built for rough travel.

  I bit into a bologna and cheese sandwich and took a sip of coffee. Then I laid the sandwich and coffee down and got a rifle from the back seat, I unscrewed its silencer. Ron saw me and grabbed another rifle. Gancha did the same.

  I got out the back door, despite the pain in my stomach.

  We aimed our three rifles back up the road.

  Sure enough. Flashing lights came around a bend. They couldn’t make much speed with their tires shredded. I had to give them credit for trying though. They must have used the last cars in their arsenal.

  “Aim for their grills.”

  As the lead car of the four turned toward us, less than a hundred yards away, the three of us fired. Steam rose from the front of the police car and it stopped. Four doors opened and four cops got out. In my scope I could see they had shotguns, which weren’t much use at this distance. Three other cars pulled up next to them. Doors opened and cops emerged.

  The guys in the lead car ran around behind it. The trunk raised. Other trunks opened too.

  Must be getting better long-range equipment.

  Sure enough, in seconds the trunk lids came down and I could see four cops with rifles. Only two had scopes though.

  “Take out the ones with scopes first. Gancha, the one on your right, Ron the left.”

  Then Gancha groaned.

  “Are you okay?” I asked her.

  “Just a flesh wound,” she replied.

  My helmet microphone spoke next. “We are coming up on you.”

  I turned my head toward the east. “Helmet, zoom lens. Can you spot a helo?”

  We had tied our Z helmets to Chima’s AI and since she expected the air vehicles to come from the east, my view displayed two flashing bright spots against the black sky of stars. I waited while the helos got closer. A beam of searchlight came out of the bottom of one helo and blinded us.

  I heard shots and two pings on the side of the van. The ground cops were trying to get us first.


  “Better get inside. The walls of the van may help a little.”

  Gancha used one arm to help me get my butt on the floor of the van. I held my rifle in one hand and pulled up my legs. Pain shot through my abdomen as I rolled over. She got in beside me. In seconds, the rear door closed. Gancha used both hands to help me get up onto my bed.

  “Let me see your wound,” I said.

  She had already put a StopIt on her left upper arm. I noted the white bandage.

  My Z helmet still had a split view showing both Ron and Gancha’s views.

  “Helmet, clear the view.”

  I saw Ron fire his rifle from a rolled down window.

  “We see you, Jake,” said a masculine voice I didn’t recognize.

  The sound came in my ears in my helmet.

  “Helmet, show what Ron sees in the upper half of my view.”

  Even without a zoom lens or my scope, I could see the cops run to the sides of their cars opposite the incoming helos, despite their exposure to our fire.

  Silence came. Neither Ron nor the Chester cops fired any weapons. They must be waiting to see what the helo would do.

  We waited too.

  When the helos got close enough to show the letters “Federal Police” on their bottoms, the cops on the ground waved. Maybe they expected the helos to help them.

  One helo stayed in the air while the second descended to a spot on the road between us and the Chester county cops. The helo in the air turned on its search light and aimed it at the cop cars, blinding anyone who looked up. The helo on the ground aimed its headlights on us.

  My helmet compensated for the glaring headlights. I could see men in black with rifles jump down and aim at the cop car. That must have been confusing to the local cops.

  The helo in the air descended between us and the cop car.

  Three men in suits climbed out. Stan Curling walked toward us in a brown suit with white shirt and yellow tie. And a black armored vest with the white letters YFP in front. His hair blew in several directions as he bent over.

  Chapter 52

  When Curling got to the open back door of our van, he looked at me.

  “Do you have the confession? We need it before we can go any further.”

  Ron raised his comm and pressed buttons. I added the vid from the camera disguised as a button on my shirt, now on the floor many miles behind us. Thank heavens it broadcast to the van.

  “Chima, show the vid from my comms on the monitor in the van,” I said.

  My vid showed Coocher’s lips moving in synch with his speech. I copied Ron’s vid to my comm.

  Gancha added her recording of the confession.

  Hopefully the three would seal Coocher’s fate.

  When it ended, Curling nodded. “That’s enough.” He tapped his nose.

  “We have enough evidence to arrest Coocher and Hoskins.”

  It took another half-hour for the YFP guys to talk with the local cops in the distance while Ron and I put our weapons and helmets away. The county police got back into their cars and the feds returned to their helos.

  Curling said to me, “Want a ride home?”

  I looked at Ron.

  He said, “Gancha and I can drive the van back. You need medical attention.”

  I knew Chima could drive the van by herself but she would need a human onboard to buy gas. It was a long way to Zor.

  I turned to Curling, “You heard him.”

  Curling tapped his nostril and gave instructions on his comm.

  “Bring a stretcher to the van.”

  Two guys from the helo carried a stretcher. When it got to the back of the van, Curling and Gancha helped me lay on it.

  Five minutes later, I lay on the same stretcher on the floor of the helo. Two men strapped me in and we lifted off. Curling sat next to me wearing a seat belt. I hated leaving Ron and Gancha but they were in safe hands with two YFP guys riding in the van.

  One of the helo guys wore a medic’s symbol on his dark green uniform. He gave me a pill.

  “For the pain,” he said.

  I took the bottle of water he handed me, downed the pill, and lay back.

  Then he wiped my mouth.

  The medic jerked sideways as the helo turned.

  I didn’t see much because my eyes became drowsy and I nodded off.

  When I woke, I glanced at my comm. It was an hour later. The noise dropped as the engine wound down. I must have looked curious because one fed, still in his black clothes, leaned over my left ear.

  “We stopped to refuel.”

  I nodded and went back to sleep.

  We stopped once more. Later, we landed on the top of Gerges Hospital.

  It felt good to be back home, but I worried about Ron and Gancha. Knowing them, they’d pop stims and drive all the way home. They could be at the ops center in another day.

  Four men in green hospital uniforms and a gurney rushed out of an elevator to greet us. Two helo medics moved my stretcher to the roof of the hospital. Then the hospital guys transferred me to their gurney and rushed me to the elevator. I could only see clouds above me.

  As the elevator door closed, I heard the YFP helicopter whine up and take off again.

  The elevator went down several floors and the door opened. I was rushed down one hallway and then another. You can’t see much lying on your back. Mostly light fixtures.

  Finally, we entered a room and two guys transferred me to a hospital bed. As best as I could see, I was the only patient in the room. One female nurse attached one end of an IV in my left arm.

  Dr. Oberson arrived five minutes later.

  “So you’re back here again. What’s it this time? Another beating?”

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact.”

  The doctor looked at the monitors above my head.

  “Blood pressure is normal. Heart beat looks good. Where on your body did you take the beating?”

  “My stomach hurts. Probably from the brass knuckles.”

  “Hmm,” he said. “We’d better check your blood.” He nodded to a nurse.

  She took three vials of blood from an outlet on the IV.

  “Better leave some for me,” I added to her.

  “It’s good to see you have a sense of humor,” said Oberson. “I suppose you’re gonna ask to be discharged in few days.”

  Something made me feel drowsy. Very drowsy.

  The doctor said, “You need to sleep now.”

  When I woke, he was gone and Andy stood by my bed in his blue suit and pink dress shirt.

  “How long was I out?” I asked.

  Andy shrugged. “Don’t know. I came in a half-hour ago.”

  “Anybody else guarding my room?”

  “Two cops are sitting outside your door. I had to show ID as an employee of Mourtan Security. That wasn’t enough, though. So I added my ID as a consultant to your PI firm.”

  He pulled a chair closer to my bed while I tagged Sheila.

  “I got a big story for you.”

  I played back the confession and brought her up to speed on the story.

  “Wow,” she said. “A confession in their own words.”

  “Can you disguise my voice like you did for Albert Poors?”

  “Sure,” she replied. “But who shall I say is speaking?”

  “Might as well be Poors.”

  She replied, “Folks will want to know how Poors got over to Chester.”

  “Can you be vague about that part?”

  “Right. Thought you’d want that. Any chance we could share dinner?”

  “Sheila, I’m in Gerges again. I took quite a beating back there. They may put me on a restricted diet. You know how the docs are.”

  “Okay, later maybe,” she replied. “But I definitely want to buy you a dinner.”

  We disconnected.

  I got a tag from Vincent.

  “You back home all right?”

  “Oh yeah. Sorry about not keeping you informed. I was asleep most of the time.”


  “That’s all right. I heard the YFP got to the van and landed. Ron filled me in. I figured you were okay for a few hours.”

  “I’m in Gerges.”

  “Anything serious?”

  “Just a little blood when I cough. Stomach hurts like hell. I’ll let you know.”

  We disconnected.

  An orderly came a few minutes later with dinner. As expected, it was all soft food.

  Andy stood.

  “I see you’re busy,” he said. “I’ll go downstairs and grab a bite to eat.”

  Dr. Oberson walked in just as Andy walked out. The doc wore his usual white lab coat with a DetectIt dangling from his neck. Under his lab coat I saw the top of a blue shirt.

  “Hope you don’t mind but I put myself down as your primary doctor. Is that all right?”

  “Sure. My first choice, actually.”

  I finished the vanilla pudding first.

  He continued, “So far, everything looks okay. You had a tear on your stomach. That probably caused your coughing blood. You must have had quite an accident. Care to fill me in?”

  “My stomach connected with a guy’s fist. Remind me to dodge next time.”

  Dr. Oberson nodded. “From the blood tests, both your kidneys are bruised. Nothing serious, fortunately. And with your DNA, I expect you to recover in a few days. Eat only easy-to-digest foods for a week. Okay?”

  I nodded. “Thanks, doc.”

  After he left and I was alone, I tagged Alena.

  “Dad! Where are you?”

  “At Gerges for a short stay.”

  “You okay?”

  “Nothing serious. Like I told the doc, my stomach connected with a guy’s fist. I should be as fine as ever in a few days.”

  “Can I visit?”

  “Sure, but how are you going to leave,” I almost said ‘the embassy’, “…your home.”

  “Vincent offered me a ride.”

  Chapter 53

  Doctor Oberson kept me in the hospital for two more days. Two days of wearing those damned thin hospital gowns.

  And the noise. My god, how do they expect anyone to sleep in the constant din of televisions, beepers, and conversations? I had the good fortune to be a room by myself with guards outside. With the door closed, the noise dropped. It didn’t go completely away but was quiet enough for me to get some sleep─if I put earplugs in.

  That evening, I watched Channel One as Sheila reported on Albert Pours’ getting a confession from Coocher and Hoskins. The news said nothing about where the confession was obtained. It might have been in Zor or Chester.