Jack Cabe

by Timothy Nguyen

  "Guys! We have message!" Stan shouted, and Jack and Val came running.

  "Who from Stan? What do they want?" Val said, her voice trembling with excitement.

  "See for yourselves," Stan said with a wide grin on his face. Jack and Val took the phone and stared at it in still-skeptical surprise.

  I am a senior supervisor with Aerotec Industries' New Columbia mine. I have various information such as e-mails, names, and internal practices and regulations that may be of use. I want to help you, whoever you are. Please. I can't keep living like this

  The group replied to the message.

  One moment.

  "I'll be damned... It's been a week and they already have rats jumping off the ship," Jack said, "How do we want to go about this? I think it would be wise to keep communications off of the phone if he's transmitting information."

  Stan responded, "Simple, we can either meet with them or have them do a dead-drop."

  "I say we meet with them, with someone doing overwatch in case things go terribly wrong. Jack, that would be you." Val said before Stan typed into the phone.

  Would you be able to meet with us? We can accommodate your schedule and any other logistical needs, except transportation of course.

  The other end began typing, and a new message popped up.

  I can meet you at the American Provincial park today. Is there anything you need me to bring?

  The group stood in silence for a moment and whispered amongst themselves before Stan typed again.

  Yes, a thumb drive or other storage media with any information you want to give us on it. But you can bring that later, now we are only concerned with establishing your identity. When do you get off work?

  The response came quickly.

  Around 18:00, in two hours.

  Stan sighed in relief, then continued:

  Good, we want you to sit on the bench in the northeast corner of the park. We will arrive at around 18:30. A man will stop to tie his shoe in front of you, and he will tap your leg once. Wait a couple moments after he leaves, then follow him to the parking lot.

  The other person began typing:

  Ok. I have to go now.

  Stan responded with two powerful lines.

  Tell no one. Not even your family.

  And with that, he shut the phone off and stuck it into the Faraday cage they had made some weeks before. "Let's go."

  Jack was surprised at how fast things were moving now that one single message had been received, "Now? We have two hours."

  "Yes, two hours to make sure we aren't met by an Aerotec death squad, and to generally perform surveillance. Grab your gun and ammo, Val, you stay here to watch over Maria, okay? We will be back in about 3 or 4 hours with news. And before you ask, you are staying here just in case one or both of us get killed or arrested. This could very well be a trap Milyy. If this goes to hell, you two will survive and try to avenge us."

  "If you say so, guys... Don't die."

  ...

  Jack and Stan made their way out of the apartment, and drove to the lot in the American Provincial Park, ready to do their surveillance and counter-surveillance. They got out of the car in the lot near the northeast corner of the bland terraformed square, and Jack pulled out his gun bag. "That bench over there across the hill, right Stan?"

  "Right, find a clear overview, I will make sure no one is watching us, and keep it that way for the next thirty minutes. Hurry Jack, we need overwatch." Stan remindedJack of the urgency of the situation at hand.

  "Yes sir, Mr. Bossman." Jack looked around for potential spots. "I already have an idea..."

  "Whatever works best Jack, just don't do anything too risky."

  Jack chuckled. "I won't."

  Jack walked into the park, instead of out towards the surrounding buildings, and made sure no one was around to see him before he climbed up one of the special trees that had been planted here long ago when the colony was first founded, over 15 years ago. By now they were grown enough that children could climb them and hide in the leaves above, and you could even hide a grown man up there too, and that's exactly what Jack did, clambering up like some Confederate sharpshooter from days gone by, and just as deadly. But he wasn't planning on killing anyone, and for the sake of security, he climbed back down, for now, having pulled a child's hat out of his pocket.

  "Alright, I got Billy's hat! I'll take it to him!" Jack shouted in Stan's general direction, using a series of codewords that meant something along the lines of "Yeah everything looks good, I'm gonna run back to the car."

  Stan nodded, then carried on with his surveillance route, just in case the communications between him and their 'friend' had been intercepted, and to make sure it wasn't a trap.

  He made a full circuit of the park, and looked towards spots outside the park where he would have set up observation, and continued like this for some time under the guise of walking around the park. Fifteen minutes in, he spotted something unusual. There was a drone that kept doing laps between a few trees, centered around the bench. He made his way back to Jack.

  "Okay, so there is problem Jack," he said this calmly as if it was nothing to worry about, "There is a drone that seems to be centering around the bench. Based on the pattern, I'd say it is referring to a beacon somewhere higher up, probably in that tree you were in, considering it's the highest thing around. So... See if you can find it."

  Jack shrugged, "I'm on it, Stan."

  Jack made his way back to the foot of the tree and waited for the drone to face away from him now that he realized it was the only thing watching him. He looked across every branch he could find, and eventually found a node that was camouflaged against the highest branch he could reach. The bastards sure are quick. They must've intercepted the call, or were watching the air signal traffic... This thing must have been put here at least thirty minutes before we got here... Quick bastards indeed...

  Jack took a leather sap out of his pocket and smashed the receiver -or whatever it was- to bits, and the drone stopped moving around in circles, instead just flying off a tangent that would eventually send it into a wall. Stan made a mental note to make more untraceable burner phones, and leaned against a nearby tree and watched the bench and his watch. At 18:32, the contact arrived.

  Chapter 10

  Jack watched the man walk to the bench. He was dressed in a standard Aerotec duster, and his head was covered with a scarf. The man was plainly rather nervous, something that was quite understandable for a man who was likely risking everything just so some rebels could verify who he was and what his intentions were. The large man sat down on the bench and glanced from side to side, and Stan began walking towards him. Jack kept the rifle sight focused on the contact the entire time.

  Stan stopped just in front of the man quite naturally, looking like a man who had just realized his shoelace was untied. He knelt down and patted the man on the leg as he did so - an act that made it look like Stan had simply lost his balance- and then he tied his shoe and continued walking. The man got up a few moments later, and followed Stan to the car in the lot.

  Jack disassembled his gun and stowed it away in his pack before making his way back down the tree and to the car, running to catch up with them.

  Stan didn't talk to the man at all, except to say that they were going to wait for his compatriot before speaking about anything, and the man nodded his compliance. They arrived at the car and waited for a little before Jack joined them. He and Stan checked the man for any devices that could possibly be used to listen in on the conversation.

  Jack spoke as soon as that was done, his tone exceedingly professional, "In the car, now. Let's go for a little run. Morningstar here will drive us around while I ask you some questions, sir."

  The man nodded as he ducked into the car. Jack got in and Stan drove the car out of the lot, beginning a two-hour-long drive to both watch for surveillance and get everything they could out of this guy.

  Jack began the interrogation, "So, let's begin our little c
hat sir. Please remove the scarf, and tell us your full name and position within Aerotec. I am recording all of this information on a voice recorder, and if you betray us it will go directly to Aerotec headquarters in an anonymous box. We don't like using blackmail, but it's for our safety and your guaranteed cooperation. If we trust you enough we will lock it away in a safe, and destroy it as soon as possible."

  The man removed the scarf, and Jack -looking through the mirror above the dash- sat in shocked silence for a moment. He finally spoke, "Dale? Since when did you go against the status quo?"

  "I was wondering when you would recognize me, Jack, though I must say I didn't recognize Stan immediately," Dale said while he wrapped the scarf up and shoved it in his pocket before continuing, "As for your question, I started going against the status quo when I was saved from almost certain death by an angel's bullet to Erin Culloch's chest. I assume that it was one of you who did it too, and I thank you. I'm not sure if I would have survived the flogging."

  Jack spoke now, still incredulous, "Yeah, that was me, Dale, I heard they were going to flog you for something, and we decided as a group to put an end to Culloch then and there if possible and start our little revolution along with it. But as a low-grade civilian supervisor, I don't know what you have to offer us."

  Stan scoffed at the comment, "Jack, if he has been paying attention to his non-civilian supervisors' emails, he certainly has something. Besides, he can serve as a recruiter in the mines if he is willing."

  Jack put aside his astonishment, "True enough Stan. So, Dale, I guess what we'll need from you is any incriminating or otherwise abrasive evidence you can get about the non-civilian supervisors and higher-ups, as well as standard rules and regulations, anything we can use to paint an even worse image of Aerotec. We would also appreciate if you would serve us as a coordinator and propaganda distributor in the mines, but we ask that you only target civilians, and keep it hidden from management."

  "That sounds like a deal Jack, I'm willing to do anything now. I don't want another Culloch, and I fear that his replacement is going to be worse than him. He's scheduled to arrive from Earth in about half a year, and until then the Mine is under entirely local supervision, mostly white-collars from the Inner City and military contractors for God knows why."

  Dale paused for a moment, the continued, "But until then it ought to be easy to rile up the people of the mine. I'm not sure if you realize it, but you offing Culloch was very popular. People just aren't sure if they should throw their support behind a rebellion that pulled off one assassination and hasn't made any further public appearances since. My wife thinks you've all been killed by Aerotec's reaction by now."

  "We aren't dead quite yet Dale. But you have to be covert. Only give flyers and recruitment materials to people you know beyond a doubt can be convinced to throw their full support behind us. We don't need any turncoats," Jack said, already forming a plan in his head, "And tell people that we are most certainly not dead if they ask. But don't let anyone know that you've met with us personally, but that we reached out to you. As for ways to help us gain publicity, let us know if anyone knows of people who are massive power abusers, like rapists and thieves, you know the sort. Encourage them to try to contact us with as much information, or tell us about it yourself. We'll take care of them ourselves. If they want to come to us directly, tell them to ask for 'Hammer'. That will put them in my hands, and I will deal with whoever it is myself."

  "You're talking murder aren't you Jack?" Dale said, suddenly saddened by some recent memory.

  Jack corrected him with no small amount of pride, "Call it extrajudicial execution of the worst people Aerotec has to offer. Even if it isn't an Aerotec employee, if you get word of any particularly bad people, and you have information that corroborates the claim, I'll take care of it."

  Dale suddenly looked even sadder than before when he spoke, "Understood Jack, understood. If that's the case then, I already have someone you could go after. He's a predator, Jack. Felt up my little girl right in front of me and I couldn't do a damned thing... She's okay now, but... I don't want to think about what he might do to those who are less fortunate. I've had a few of the women on my shift come to me with rape claims against him, which I logged of course, but nothing ever got done about it. No investigations, nothing. I'm not even sure upper management even read them."

  Jack was overcome with the natural fury any man had against such people, but he kept his composure. "Give us his name, and send us a picture if you can, I'll need to be able to positively identify him."

  "I can do you a few better. I know where he lives Jack, a small high rise on the outskirts of the city, the top floor. He worked directly under Culloch, supervising all of Section 9. He invited us over for 'a chat' and... " Dale's voice faded as the pain of the memory washed over him.

  "You don't have to keep going, just tell me where he lives, specifically."

  "Greystone Apartments, unit 2b, second floor, has a wall that's just a full window facing the slum district."

  "Is there anything else that might be of use to me?"

  "No, not that I can think of."

  With that, Jack turned around and spoke to Stan, "Alright Stan, we can drop Dale off somewhere near his house now. I'm going to get to work."

  "Whatever you say, Jack." Stan drove over to the quarter where Dale lived and dropped him off before returning home, and they told Valerie the news. Or rather, Stan told Val the news while Jack fired up the printer and designed a new flyer, and quickly typed a short letter before stepping out of the house with little more than an explanation to Valerie.

  She was confused, and rightfully so. Jack rarely became so despondent he wouldn't even speak a word. Or maybe angry was the correct word. "What's his deal, what happened Stan?"

  "Well, our friend turned out to be none other than Dale Perkins, and it just so happens that Dale's daughter was inappropriately touched by a supposed serial rapist. And Jack now has the bastard's address and is going to go extrajudicial." Stan spoke with no small amount of anger himself.

  Val's jaw dropped a little at the multiple revelations she was being fed and sat down. "I... I can see why Jack's the way he is at least. We all love that little girl, and... Farrow has it coming to him. I've been lucky to just have flogging be my punishment... Jesus... At least we have Dale now."

  Stan wrapped his arm around Val and comforted her while Jack set out on a mission of vengeance...

  Chapter 11

  Jack stalked his way down the sidewalk along the road that bisected the entire American province. He wore a simple dark hoodie and his backpack, which was filled with his gun with its sniper configuration attachments and his trash ghillie suit. The apartment building he was looking for was just a few hundred meters away now and stood on the stark dividing line between the Inner and Outer City.

  Towers of pristine white composites and gleaming glass windows stood on one side, while the decrepit buildings of the outer districts stood at their feet. Even the more wealthy of the civilian workers lived in such depravity -people like Dale and his family- even though their houses were larger and better maintained on the outside, it was only fractionally better. It was maintained by a local corporate-owned government that couldn't care less as long as taxes were paid, while the Inner City was maintained to keep the upper-class white-collar workers and Aerotec allies and higher management happy, and to keep the money flowing. It was a disgusting failure of a hundred years or so of progressive policies mixed with robber-baron-esque exploitation of the poor and huddled masses.

  Jack let his thoughts overcome him as he walked, and he thought about Dale's daughter, Lira. She was only six or seven, and already she had been exposed to some of the worst on the new frontier. He and Val were close friends of the Perkins family, in fact, Dale's parents had helped make sure Jack was able to get a job and apartment, and he had been there at several of Lira's birthdays by personal invitation from Dale. To know that Administrator Darren Farrow had groped her as
Dale said... It broke Jack's heart, and the shattered pieces fed the fire already present whenever he learned that any child had been sexually abused like that.

  So Farrow was going to die.

  Added to the child exploitation were the sexual assault and exploitation allegations that were all too rampant, and far too many of them involved Administrator Farrow.

  So Farrow was going to die.

  Jack walked up to the apartment building and handed the receptionist a letter that had the new flyer in it, and he said that it was from one of Mr. Farrow's coworkers at the mine. She took it and placed it in a box for the purpose. Jack thanked her and walked out, thankful that his face was obscured enough that she couldn't identify him, but not so obscured as to raise suspicion. He walked back across the poverty line and found an abandoned warehouse just opposite the apartment, about 150 meters away. A long shot for his gun, certainly, but he hadn't modded the hell out of it for no reason.

  He had asked Dale if there was anything inside the apartment that might help him identify which one it was, and Dale had said that there was a painting of mountains on the wall, and that it ought to be the second or third window to the left if facing the window side head-on. Even better, Dale had said that -apparently- Mr. Farrow enjoyed spending his time in that particular room, gazing out across the slums.

  Jack pulled out his gun, assembled the modified parts, set the scope to the correct distance, and threw his trash suit on. He waited and kept an eye on the window since Farrow would be getting off work right about now. Jack had about an hour until he arrived, so he pulled out his phone and messaged Stan:

  Make more pamphlets, the ones I just made.

  Take and place stacks at the park entrance, or anywhere you can. Just make sure they are seen and felt.

  The flyer this time, while it had the same background image of a hand with sword outstretched, had different words. Now they said "Down With the Rapist", and had a diatribe on the back about the evils of Farrow and other rumors of similar abuses. They urged people to come forward with testimony, to talk to their civilian shift managers, and to seek out other people who had suffered particularly because of Aerotec, people like the day manager of sector 9b, who had recently been saved from being flogged.