by Jaxon Reed
“Preserves a body perfectly, boss. Preserves it indefinitely, so long as the power stays on. It has an absorption battery installed that’ll keep a charge so long as it can absorb heat or light from any ambient source. The battery has a fifty year guarantee.
“People bury their loved ones in these things, thinking they can raise them up later if a cure is found for what killed ’em, or if they might need the DNA from the cells later or whatnot.
“Not gonna lie, this thing here’s expensive, and I will need payment up front.”
Bryce raised a questioning eyebrow toward Renard and Desmet. Renard seemed apologetic. They dropped back from the rest of the group as everyone walked toward the front, and she spoke quietly so Poindexter would not overhear.
“We’d like to take her body back to The Hague after this is all over. We understand so little, still, about the ‘cunning folk.’ It’s gruesome, I know. But we think her tissue samples would greatly benefit our research.”
Bryce shrugged in a noncommittal way. The explanation made sense. If Europol wants to run experiments on Desiree’s dead body, who cares? he thought. It did seem like an odd request, though.
Back in the front of the building, Poindexter again tried to sell them an antique car.
“You can’t lose with one of these things, I’m tellin’ ya! The roads are still plenty good around here for old school terrestrial vehicles. Take a look at that classic Vette there. That’ll get the girls to come running, sho’ ’nuff! Everything but the Mustang is for sale.”
“Don’t you want to keep the pricier vehicle for yourself?” Parker said. “I thought Corvettes were more expensive than Mustangs. Aren’t they better cars?”
Poindexter spit on the floor.
“Nah. They’re Chevys.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have your heart set on a fifty-five Thunderbird, then.”
“Huh? Those’re rarer than hen’s teeth, darlin’.”
“Sure. But they were originally made to compete directly against the Corvette. I’m a California girl, I know my cars. If you’re a Ford fan, an original T-bird is a good one to covet.”
They walked out, climbed into Parker’s vehicle and floated up out of the parking lot. Below them, Dexter Poindexter seemed lost in thought, staring down at the ground in front of the door to his building.
Bryce chuckled at the sight.
“I think you gave him a new idea, Parker.”
She smiled brightly back at Bryce in the rear seat. Next to him, Desmet snorted.
“That man, he is an idiot. But, he has very good supplies.”
-+-
They flew to the agents’ hotel, and carried the tranquilizer guns and com links to Renard’s room. Desmet left to rent out a van so he could go back and fetch the cryo-coffin. Bryce and Parker helped Renard unpack the guns and darts.
“We are very fortunate. Customs finally released the first Hexenhammer shipment after my department spent some time talking with them and reassuring them these were not recreational drugs. It arrived here at the hotel yesterday, so we will have plenty of the liquid form to load the darts.”
Bryce nodded, and the three of them began the tedious process of unpacking darts and filling them with liquid, then loading them into the guns.
After about an hour, Bryce’s phone implant buzzed. The screen popped up in front of and below his face. A text message read, “Where are you?”
“Renard’s hotel room.”
His words appeared on the screen below the first text.
“Send.”
“Who was that?”
Bryce sensed Parker’s curiosity even before she asked the question.
“Jenkins.”
Several minutes later, Renard answered the knock on her door, opening it for Jenkins and Miller. The two older detectives walked in smiling, and Bryce sensed a feeling of exhilaration and accomplishment in them.
“We’ve got a gift for y’all!”
“We think you’re going to like it!”
They followed Jenkins and Miller up to the roof, which served as one of the hotel’s parking lots. The men presented a couple of large police vans with a flourish.
“There you go, Bryce,” Jenkins said. “Compliments of Transportation Services.”
“You guys stole a couple of personnel transports?”
“We didn’t steal them, we borrowed them. Owen Felton who runs the place owed us a couple favors. We cashed in our chits and we have the use of these babies all week.”
“We figured you’d need a way to load up people for the assault,” Miller chimed in.
“That’s great, guys. I appreciate it. This is really going to help out.”
“That’s not our only surprise,” Jenkins said. “We also got you drivers!”
The front doors of the vans opened. Chief Jones and Captain Wilton stepped out, one from each van. Bryce felt shock and surprise from the women. He felt it in himself, too. The appearance of the two men was certainly unexpected.
“Gentlemen,” the Chief said, extending his hand to shake. “Ladies.”
Captain Wilton said, “We’re here for the party!”
-+-
“I have twenty-five men.”
Bryce nodded, and privately wondered if Ivan’s two ever-present bodyguards were included. They were meeting in person at the same shuttered restaurant as before. The afternoon sun peeked through the windows. Chairs stacked on tables cast long shadows across the floor. Dust motes danced in shafts of sunlight.
“That’s good. We have two transport vans that can carry twenty people each. Your numbers combined with ours make it about the right amount of people.”
“So you plan to use these vans in the assault?”
Bryce nodded.
“One will land on the street near the front entrance. The other, on the Capitol grounds in back. Once our people exit the vans, the drivers will stay in position, looking out for trouble. When it’s over, we’ll bring your guys back here.”
Ivan seemed lost in thought for a moment, his hands forming a steeple on top of his stomach. Finally, he looked up.
“It’s as good a plan as any, Detective. Bring your vans here tonight, and I will have my men ready. Each will be armed, of course, but I will tell them they are to use the tranquilizer guns first.”
Bryce nodded again, in agreement. He felt he could hardly argue against the Russians being armed, all things considered.
“We’ll hope they don’t need their guns. Each one will be given a dose of the emotion-dampening drug before we leave. As soon as the troopers are shot by the darts, they should go down and remain compliant when they wake back up.
“Do you have body armor for all your men, so they could feasibly take a few shots while trying to get close enough to shoot the darts?”
“Yes, our body armor is as good as police armor. Maybe even better. We have enough for all the men, and they will all be wearing it.”
“Good. The fewer who get killed on both sides, the better.”
“On that, we are in agreement, Detective.”
-+-
Back in Renard’s hotel room, the women had finished filling all the tranquilizer darts with liquid Hexenhammer, and loaded most of them into the guns.
“Leave several out for me,” Bryce said. “If I can get up close to some people, I’ll just stab them in the neck with a dart.”
The Chief looked at the invisibility suit Bryce held with a skeptical eye.
“You really think that thing will work?”
“Jenkins and Miller swear by it, sir.”
Miller nodded emphatically.
“We’ve seen it work in the lab, Chief. The techies have a winner with this thing.”
The Chief sighed.
“Everything we’re using tonight has worked in a lab, but this is the first time we’re trying it out in real life. I hope the techies are right, on both sides of the Atlantic.”
“I’ll try this thing on, and we can at least test one item ou
t before we go,” Bryce said.
He pulled open the middle of the suit and stuck one leg in. The suit felt light, as if made of thick plastic film. It seemed very flexible and stretchable, too. Bryce stuck his other leg in, then both arms, and pulled up a plastic zipper in the front.
“Your pockets are right there near your waist. Whatever you put in the pockets will become transparent, too.”
“That’s where I’ll load up a bunch of darts.”
Bryce reached behind his neck and pulled the hood up and over his head. Holes around the nose and mouth let him breathe.
“I can’t see well out of this thing, Miller.”
“Once you turn it on, you’ll be able to. Here, let me attach the power unit.”
Miller wrapped a filmy belt around Bryce’s middle, and attached a thin plastic box where the belt buckle normally goes.
“Just press this button here, and poof! You’re invisible!”
“We’ll see about that,” Jones said.
“No, Chief, you won’t see. That’s the point.”
The Chief frowned at Miller.
Bryce said, “Okay, I’m going to turn it on.”
He pushed the button. A high pitched whine came from the suit as it powered up. Bryce instantly became transparent and the whine stopped.
“It’s working!” Parker said.
“I can see out of the hood now. Can you see me move?”
Bryce took a few experimental steps around the room and waved his arms, then turned to look back at the others.
“I can see some blurriness as you walk around,” Parker said. “But when you stand still, you really are practically invisible.”
“What do you think, Chief? Told ya so.”
“What I think, Miller, is that I’d love to have one of those while out hunting.”
They heard a knock at the door. Renard stood closest. She looked through the peephole and opened it. Desmet walked in carrying a handful of com links.
“I have tested each one, and they are all good. That idiot car boy sells good stuff.”
He walked past Bryce without seeing him. Bryce tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hm?”
Desmet turned and saw nothing.
Bryce tapped him on the other shoulder. Desmet furrowed his brows.
“What is this?”
He turned to look back at the others.
Bryce shoved him lightly in the small of his back. Desmet stumbled forward a couple steps, then turned around swinging his fists wildly and cursing in French. Everybody in the room laughed.
Bryce pulled off the hood, and his head appeared to be floating in the air. He grinned.
“Sorry, Agent Desmet. I just wanted to try this thing out and see how it works on somebody who didn’t know about it.”
Desmet stood there with a stunned expression on his face, staring at Bryce’s floating head, and muttered a few more obscenities. Then he took a deep breath as he steadied himself.
“I think it works well, mon ami.”
“He didn’t see that one coming, did he? He couldn’t visualize the possibility someone was there! Out of sight, out of mind!”
“That’s enough, Detective Miller.”
“Sorry, Chief.”
-+-
The group finished making preparations. The tranquilizer guns were distributed evenly between the two transports. Everyone checked their sidearms and spare magazines.
Jenkins placed his hand print over the armory locker in each vehicle, unlocking compartments as the others watched.
“I hope we don’t need them, but inside each van are twenty urban assault rifles, with plenty of loaded magazines for each one. Also, each vehicle has half a dozen high power sniper rifles.
“If things go south, and you need to return to the vehicles in a hurry, we can re-arm quickly with the guns in here. Otherwise, it’s probably best they stay onboard while we’re carrying the Bolshoi Boys back and forth.
“As for the rest of the stuff in here, there’s plenty of body armor to go around. I suggest we all make use of it.”
The sun had set by now, and the light grew dim. Bryce touched his phone implant, and the virtual screen appeared in front of his face showing the time.
“We’re leaving to go get them in fifteen minutes. Everybody get ready, and let’s split up among the vehicles.”
Miller and Jenkins went over to their own car. Captain Wilton walked to the far transport while Desmet went over to his rental van loaded with the cryo-coffin. Bryce and Parker climbed into the other transport along with the Chief. Renard excused herself and went back down to her room.
Several minutes ticked by, and Bryce grew increasingly impatient, walking in tight circles around the inside of the transport.
“Relax, partner.”
“Where’s Renard?”
Parker shrugged.
“Still in her room, I guess.”
Bryce pressed his phone implant to look at the time again.
“I’m going to go get her.”
-+-
Renard’s door stood slightly ajar, so Bryce pushed it open. On the floor in front of the room’s couch, he found Renard on her knees in silent prayer. She looked up when he opened the door, and stood.
“I felt the need to pray before we do this.”
Bryce nodded in understanding and agreement.
“I’ve been praying, too. But it’s time to go.”
She nodded, and patted the sidearm strapped on outside her body armor.
“I’m ready.”
As they walked to the elevators, Bryce said, “I didn’t know you were religious.”
“I’m not. I’m Lutheran.”
“No I meant . . . never mind.”
The elevator dinged as they reached the rooftop. Renard hurried over to the far transport and gave a final wave to Bryce. He pressed a com link into his ear.
“Can everybody hear me?”
He heard several affirmative remarks over the link.
“Good. Let’s move out.”
Chapter Fifteen
The two transports, the rental van, and the older detectives’ car settled gently in the parking lot of Ivan’s abandoned restaurant. A man watching for them went inside. Moments later, a stream of Russian mobsters exited the restaurant and moved toward the transports. Each wore black body armor, and each carried an identical black pistol in a shoulder holster strapped under one arm.
They split into roughly equal lines at the rear entrances to the transports. Bryce handed each man a com link and briefly explained how the units worked. Parker handed each one a dart gun, and likewise quickly explained the mechanism.
The Bolshoi Boys showed a high degree of professionalism, and kept conversation amongst themselves to a minimum.
Finally, Renard came out with the Hexenhammer pills. She took one first, then gave one to each police person. They all swallowed the pills in front of the Russians deliberately, to help put the mobsters’ minds at ease. Then she gave each Russian a pill, explaining that it would prevent the harpy from controlling them. Somebody produced a flask, and several passed it around, taking drinks to help swallow down the pills.
Finally all were ready, and they entered the transports. Ivan came out of the restaurant and stopped Bryce before he got back in his vehicle. The old Russian gripped him on the shoulder, ignoring the odd filmy suit Bryce wore.
“Godspeed, Detective. Godspeed.”
-+-
The vehicles arrived at the Governor’s Mansion well after dark. The Capitol Building and the mansion grounds were flooded with light, and a dozen uniformed state troopers patrolled the exterior of the smaller building.
“Set us down in the street, Chief” Bryce said, “and I’ll go first. Captain, don’t set your vehicle down yet, but when you do, unload everybody in the back of the building. Our guys will go in the front. Jenkins and Desmet, keep your vehicles at a distance, out of sight.”
Jones landed his transport gently in the street near th
e front of the mansion. Half a dozen state troopers turned and looked their way.
“Everybody stay put. I’ll take out as many as I can.”
Bryce powered up the invisibility suit, and stepped out the front door of the transport.
He walked up to the front lawn of the mansion. Six state troopers stood in rough formation, equally spaced in front of the building and facing the street. Each carried an urban assault carbine strapped around their shoulders, held at the ready, but with fingers not touching the triggers.
Bryce tried scanning their emotions, expecting to find intense loyalty, love, and a sense of duty. Each person standing there looked like they felt ready and willing to die in order to protect those inside the mansion.
To his surprise and consternation, he found not only could he feel no emotions of his own, but he could also not detect the emotions of others.
The drug must work both ways, he thought.
He put aside the thought, but not before absently wondering how long the drug’s effects would last. He took a tentative step off the pavement and onto the lawn.
Bryce looked down and saw the grass squished under his transparent feet. He took another tentative step. More grass squished down. The trooper nearest him stood about ten steps away, eyes still focused on the police transport in the street.
Bryce took a couple more careful steps, grass squishing all the way.
“Cantu!”
Five of the troopers turned toward the one who spoke. Evidently, she was in charge. Bryce took the opportunity to get even closer.
“Go check that vehicle out, Cantu. No reason for city cops to be around here.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
What luck, Bryce thought. Cantu is my guy.
His target began moving toward the transport, coming even closer to Bryce, within arm’s reach.
Bryce carefully reached into the suit’s front pocket, and in one swift motion grabbed a dart and jabbed it into the trooper’s neck as he passed by.
“Ow!”
The trooper stopped, and pulled out the dart.
“What’s the matter, Cantu?”
Bryce watched the trooper closely, still trying unsuccessfully to tune into his emotional broadcast. Cantu looked up from holding the dart, and his pupils contracted. His brows furrowed as rational thought seemed to flood his mind, reason regaining control over emotion. Then he slipped into unconsciousness, and collapsed on the lawn.
