Mortal Crimes 1

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Mortal Crimes 1 Page 110

by Various Authors


  He took a step back, walked with his own wide berth of the Almighty, and both kept their distance from Gandhi, who still kept his hands clasped over his head. At least he wasn’t trying to make their brains boil.

  And to think she had been afraid of being alone with Ian.

  As they reached the examination room, the Almighty suddenly said, “The guards approacheth. They number six. More shall arrive within minutes.”

  All six of them ducked into the examination room. Kilroy squatted at once in front of the dead guards. He poked with one finger. “Not as fresh as it could be, but it will do.”

  “Leave them alone,” Ian said. Kilroy backed away but took a long look back.

  Dr. Jonas rushed to the cabinet and rummaged through the drawers until he found a lead shield, which he threw at Gandhi, then shrank back against the wall, quivering. Gandhi draped it over his head.

  “But you don’t really think he can…?” Julia asked Ian. “With his brain, I mean? No, that’s scientifically impossible.”

  “Probably,” Ian said, “but why take chances?”

  The Almighty found Julia’s laptop and opened it on the examination table. His fingers danced over the keyboard. She unplugged the USB cable attached to the probe and stuffed them into her pocket.

  Outside the room came shouted orders from one guard to another. Julia had to fight the urge not to sprint for the door, scream for help. She was trapped in the room with four dead bodies, three certifiably insane prisoners, Ian, who may or may not have had a psychotic break, and Dr. Jonas, who seemed well on his way to insanity himself.

  Ian crouched at the door with his shotgun.

  Kilroy took advantage of his distraction and returned to the dead body. He clawed at the man’s head, then came up with something lumpen and shoved it into his mouth. Blood trickled from his lips and dripped down his hands and arms. Julia thought she was going to be sick.

  Kilroy’s eyes met hers. They had a strange glow. “I eat brains,” he whispered.

  ________

  Ian ordered the others to barricade the door with the examination table. He could hear guards in the hallway, but so far they hadn’t tried the door. They would be waiting for backup, and though the CIA facility might be far from civilization, it would eventually arrive, and with overwhelming force. He had to figure out some way to mount an attack and do it soon.

  The Almighty stopped typing at Julia’s computer. “We now have complete control over all security systems. This door is locked and I can lock or unlock any others at will. I’ve snarled traffic in Salt Lake City to slow a detachment of operatives already driving south to intercept us. An order has been given to Hill Air Force Base in Ogden to scramble two F-16s, but it will be at least twenty minutes before they arrive. I’ll try to stop them.”

  Ian was impressed as hell. “But that doesn’t help with the guys who are already in the hallway. Sounds like half a dozen out there. What can we do about that?”

  Joe Kilroy stood with the remains of his meal still around his mouth. Julia looked pale. Dr. Jonas cowered in one corner, whimpering.

  “Don’t do that again,” Ian told Kilroy.

  “How else am I supposed to discover what our enemies know?”

  “I don’t know, but eat brains on your own time.” He hesitated, unsure whether to give into Kilroy’s insanity. “Did you learn anything?”

  “Yes, I did. The men out there are terrified of Gandhi and what he can do with his mind.” Kilroy turned to look at Gandhi, who sat in lotus position, his eyes closed, a lead x-ray sheet draped over his head.

  Ian nodded. He could have guessed as much just by seeing how terrified Dr. Jonas was of the man. “But why are they scared?”

  “He stopped a man’s heart just a few weeks ago,” Kilroy said. “He once killed another guard by making him shoot himself in the head with his sidearm.”

  “That’s coincidence,” Julia said. She looked pale, but steady. “You can’t kill someone with your brain. And people die of heart attacks all the time.”

  “Twenty-eight year old men?” Kilroy asked.

  “An undiagnosed heart defect. The other guy was probably depressed. People sometimes kill themselves. It’s called suicide.”

  “Gandhi did it,” Kilroy said with conviction. “From behind a foot of solid concrete and a ten inch metal door. Imagine what he can do loose in the asylum.”

  “He’ll get himself killed is what he’ll do,” Julia said.

  Ian was inclined to believe Julia, but it might not matter if the enemy believed it. He was trying to think how he could use Gandhi when the man uncrossed his legs, rose to his feet and made for the door.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Ian said. He reached out a hand to stop Gandhi, but recoiled when the man fixed him with a dull, lizard-like gaze.

  “He marches forth to eliminate the enemy,” the Almighty said, looked up from Julia’s laptop. “The wicked shall be smitten by his wrath.”

  “They’ve got shotguns, remember?” Ian said. “Doesn’t matter if he can kill with his mind. A couple of panicky shots and he’ll die all the same.”

  “Isn’t there a reason you let us out of our cells?” the Almighty asked.

  “Yeah, to do that computer stuff. That’s a big help.”

  “Trust him.” The Almighty tapped something into the laptop. “The door is open.”

  Gandhi pulled the examination table out of the way and opened the door a crack. In one motion, he stripped the lead blanket from his head, tossed it over his shoulder, into the room, then slipped into the hallway and shut the door.

  “On the ground!” a voice barked from outside.

  Screams came from the hallway, shotgun blasts. More screams. Everything was quiet. Ian winced. He couldn’t believe that he’d sent Gandhi to his death based on the advice of three crazies.

  Someone knocked on the door and he startled. “Who is it?”

  No answer.

  “It is Gandhi, of course,” the Almighty said. He typed at the computer. “It’s unlocked again. Open the door.”

  “Open it,” Kilroy urged. “It’s got to be him.”

  Ian looked to Julia. She gave a bewildered shrug. He reached for the door.

  “Wait!” Kilroy said. “The lead shield, first.”

  “Julia, get the shield.”

  Ian braced the door with one foot, held his shotgun with his right hand and reached for the door with the left. He cracked the door while Julia held out the lead shield with her arm as far outstretched as possible. A pale, hairless arm reached in, grabbed the shield, while Julia started back.

  “My God, it is him,” Ian said. “How did he…?”

  Moments later, Ian let Gandhi into the room with the lead sheet draped over his bald head. He looked unaltered, though he was breathing heavily. He nodded to the Almighty, who had stepped away from the laptop.

  “The way has been cleared for thee,” the Almighty said.

  Ian poked his head out the door and saw that he was right. Two men lay slumped against the wall. One had taken a shotgun blast to the face. The other bled from what looked like trauma to the femoral artery of one, maybe both legs. To Ian’s eye the men had panicked when they saw Gandhi step into the hallway. Their first shots had killed their own men. The others had fled.

  Ian came back inside with their weapons. They now had four shotguns and some ammo. He handed one of the guns to Kilroy. “We’re making a run for it. You know how to use this thing?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good, now get some clothes on. You’ll be in front and Julia shouldn’t have to stare at your hairy ass.” He turned and winked at Julia, and she made a game effort of returning a smile. Good. He needed her clear-headed. “Gandhi, I don’t suppose you want to get dressed, too? No, I didn’t think so.” At least he had underwear. “Do either of you guys want weapons? I’ve got shotguns and stun batons.”

  “I’ll stick with the computer,” the Almighty said. “Gandhi doesn’t need or know how to use any
weapon but his own mind.”

  “Yeah, alright.” Ian turned to Julia. “That leaves you.” He handed her one of the two remaining Benellis. “Know how to use this thing?”

  “No, I have no clue.”

  “The shot comes out this end. This is the trigger. Squeeze it to fire.”

  “Hah, hah, very funny.”

  “I’m serious. All you need to do is hold the stock to your shoulder, point, and shoot. In close range, that’s enough. If you’re not within, say, thirty feet—no, better make it fifteen—don’t bother. Pump a new shell in like this. Got it?”

  She nodded, gripped the shotgun uncomfortably. “Got it.”

  “And for God’s sake, don’t shoot if there’s anyone in front of you, not even if they’re standing to one side. That’s what happened to the guards in the hall. They started freaking out and killed their own guys.” He glanced back at Gandhi. “I’m sure you made them do it, of course.”

  “What about him?” Julia asked. She gestured at Dr. Jonas with her gun, her knuckles white from gripping it so tightly.

  Ian considered. “We’ll leave him here. He’s no good to us anymore.”

  “Bet he knows lots of useful stuff,” Kilroy said. “If I could find a knife…”

  “No, his brain stays in his skull.”

  “Okay, fine.” He sounded disappointed.

  Ian looked at Dr. Jonas. “We catch you in the hallway, we’ll shoot, understand? You’re better off cowering here in the corner, pissing yourself, until someone comes to rescue you.” He turned back to the others. It was the strangest force he’d ever led into battle. “Okay everyone, let’s go.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Julia gripped the shotgun and followed the others into the hallway. It was eerily quiet. The two men Gandhi had killed—or, more accurately, seemed to have been killed by other panicking guards—slumped on the ground. She resisted the urge to check to make sure they were dead.

  That made six bodies. Six men who had been alive this morning, kissed wives and children goodbye, and gone to work. Normally, Julia was on the other side of the equation, fighting to plug leaking arteries, remove deadly cancers, keep a patient’s heart beating just a moment longer. She felt sick.

  Ian waved two fingers at Kilroy, and the two men ducked around the next corner, then waved the others forward. The Almighty didn’t look up from Julia’s laptop. He held it with one hand, typed with the other. Gandhi walked after them with slow, deliberate steps, almost like he was on a pilgrimage rather than escaping from an armed asylum.

  “Too quiet,” Ian said. He turned to the Almighty. “Where are they?”

  “They have fled the building.”

  “No ambush at the front door?”

  Julia thought she saw uncertainty in the Almighty’s eyes. “They have retreated to a safe perimeter.”

  “What does that mean?” Julia asked. She didn’t like the look on Ian’s face. “Why would they abandon the building?

  Ian pushed her gun barrel to one side and she realized that she’d been pointing it directly into the group. He turned back to the Almighty. “What’s going on at Hill Air Force Base?”

  The Almighty retreated to his computer. “The birds have flown the coop.”

  “What birds, what does that mean?” Julia asked.

  “They’ve called in an air strike,” Ian said. “And the guards know it, which is why they’ve abandoned the building. This place is about to get leveled.”

  They broke into a run, except for Gandhi, who followed at a slow walk. Ian and Kilroy flashed their guns around each corner and door, then continued. Gandhi would almost catch up, then be left behind again.

  The lights went dead while they were still in the corridors. Julia saw Kilroy approach through the glow from her laptop screen in the Almighty’s hands, pause at her shoulder and sniff. She trembled. She knew what Dr. Jonas must have been feeling.

  “Keep your distance, Joe,” Ian said in a warning voice.

  “Just wondering what she knows,” he said. “Maybe she knows the Fer-de-Lance.”

  “You want to know, you can ask her.”

  Kilroy took a step back. “It’s not the same.”

  “They didn’t cut the network,” the Almighty said. “Give me a moment and I will restore light.” The lights flickered on. “I have given thee a minute, maybe less,” the Almighty said, “before thine adversaries permanently cut all power to the building.”

  They didn’t need a minute. Moments later they reached the front doors. As the Almighty had said, there were no guards. The lights went out again, but it was too late.

  “It’s the sun,” Kilroy said. “Look, I can see the actual sun. Two years. Two long years without seeing natural light. The bastards took it from me.”

  Julia looked around. “Where’s Gandhi?”

  Gandhi emerged from the darkness moments later, still walking forward step by deliberate step. He stopped in the middle of the room and stood blinking at the natural light. He apparently didn’t like it, because he pulled the x-ray blanket lower, to shield his eyes.

  “You guys ready?” Ian asked. “We’re going to make a run for Julia’s car. Gandhi, you’re going to have to move it.” Ian started to open the door, but the glass puckered on the door with a loud thump. Two more bullets slammed into the glass, which did not shatter. He waved them all back.

  “How many are there?” Kilroy asked.

  “At least two. Sniper rifles. I don’t see where they are. Idiots, they should have waited until we stepped outside first. This glass is bulletproof.”

  “Is there a back door?” Julia asked.

  “No way. Not in a secure facility. But we’ve got to get out of here in a hurry.”

  “Let us take care it,” Kilroy said. “I’ll go first, launch a couple of wild shots.”

  “I can make their cell phones ring,” the Almighty said. “Not much, but it might distract them for a moment.”

  “Give Gandhi a chance to do his stuff,” Kilroy added. “You can retrieve the car and meet us by the gates. We’ll open them, pile in and get out of here before the air strike comes.”

  “You’ll get killed,” Julia said. “Think about it. Even if Gandhi did have mental powers, they’d never work at this distance, not if a lead shield can block them.”

  “Why wouldn’t they?” Kilroy asked.

  “It’s got to work like a microwave, right?” she asked. “It might be really strong at a short distance, but it will weaken geometrically with distance.”

  “I don’t know, I just know that it works. Maybe it’s like a laser and the distance doesn’t matter.”

  “What, does he shoot it from his eyes?” Julia appealed to Ian. “I can’t believe we’re even talking about this.”

  “Can you think of anything else?” Ian asked, his voice quiet.

  “No, but this is suicide,” she said.

  Gandhi, if he had any thoughts, didn’t care to share them. He stood still, his breathing regular, his eyes hidden behind the x-ray shield.

  “If you want, you can go back and find Dr. Jonas,” Ian said, “The two of you can run out with your hands up before the planes get here.”

  “Oh my God! The air strike. He’s going to die back there.”

  “Julia, stop.” He took the barrel of her gun and she realized she’d been pointing it at someone again, this time the Almighty. “You can’t do anything about him, but you might be able to save yourself and some of the people here. And that means we’ve got to get to your car.”

  “The gates are open,” the Almighty said, “and the tire shredders down. Now is the best time to go.”

  Ian turned to the others. “Go, clear the guard station. And stay alive, if you can.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Kilroy said. “And if we’re not, death is a hell of a lot better than what we had before you let us out.”

  Julia saw Ian’s jaw clench as the other three inmates of the asylum made their way to the doorway. He was sending men into battle to
die and he knew it. He followed behind Kilroy’s shoulder with his own shotgun

  A long sidewalk led from the front of the building to the parking lot and beyond, the gates and the guard station. The grounds were nicely landscaped with flowers and miniature shrubbery, but there were no bushes or trees to give cover.

  Joe Kilroy led, followed by the Almighty with Julia’s laptop held in front of him. He didn’t look up, but kept typing. Kilroy fired toward the guard station. Gandhi came behind them at his slow walk.

  “Go!” Ian said. He had Julia by the sleeve and dragged her outside with him. “Now!”

  Julia sprinted toward her car. It was a light gray Chevy, a rental car, parked behind an SUV. A bullet whizzed past her ear. Someone cried out.

  Julia turned to see the Almighty fly backwards with a surprised expression. The laptop went flying, shattered by a bullet that had slammed through it while the Almighty cradled it in his chest. He fell on his back, then turned his head and groped for the remains of the laptop with one hand. The other hand felt at his chest, as if unable to believe that a bullet had found its target.

  Kilroy had reached the cars directly in front of the parking lot and used them as cover to fire at the guard station. He surprised Julia with his agility. This man was no stranger to combat. Gandhi walked behind, stepped over the Almighty’s prostrate body, and continued toward the guard station. He pulled off the x-ray shield and dropped it to the ground.

  There was a flash from the guard station at the gates and without thinking Julia lifted her shotgun and fired. The stock slammed back into her shoulder.

  “Julia!” Ian cried. He, too, fired. “Get out of there! The car!”

  Julia reached the rental car. She struggled with the handle before realizing it was still locked. She grabbed the key fob from her pocket and unlocked it. Glass shattered on the windows of the SUV behind her and she ducked.

  Ian grabbed the keys from her hand. “Get in the other side. Now!”

  She ran to the passenger side in a crouch. Ian pulled the car out and she scrambled to get inside before it left her behind. Ian gunned it. The tires squealed.

  He rounded the corner and there, to Julia’s surprise, was Kilroy and Gandhi standing in front of a row of parked cars.

 

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