by Stuart Dodds
“Sergeant, get your tech and officers ready. We’re going to affect an entry as soon as possible,” Brell said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The sergeant went off to brief his team now that they had an idea of what equipment to take. Brell knew from previous incidents with the Laser Teams things didn’t always turn out that smoothly. They would arrive, wander around the area posturing with their guns for a few minutes, then run in and cause chaos. More often than not, they would have to send someone back for more equipment. Once Brell watched, shaking her head, as they all stood looking at each other because someone had forgotten the door puncher.
***
“Ready, Worm,” Sergeant Ritsma said.
Brell crouched behind the laser team, twenty-five metres from Pod 122. As the smoke cleared, she saw the Corpsman lying on the ground, unmoving. She had placed the Medicos back by the sub level stairs; as they were not combat trained.
“Worm, fire. Let’s go.”
There was a sudden, loud p-zap and burst of dust as the wide beam lasers emitted from the drone fragmented the door. A Laser Team member ran up to the prone Corpsman whilst the others stormed through the door. Brell, seeing that emergency aid was being administered, went inside the front door. It was a basic sub-level dwelling pod, plastic steel construction showing signs of decay. The front door led into a small living room with kitchenette and three closed doors. These were for the regulation two bedrooms and privy. One of the living room walls had a full-size display screen showing images of sunny vistas. The architect called it “bringing the outside, in.” There was a good chance that the architect did not choose to live in one of these pods, five levels below ground with recycled air.
Apart from the bloody mess on the floor, there was an overpowering smell of scorched human flesh from laser fire. The sergeant crouched by one of the bedroom doors waving for his team to be quiet. Brell also saw the bare feet of someone lying behind one of the kitchenette cupboards. A nearby officer looked at her and shook his head; the person had presumably been fatally injured.
The other bedroom door was open. Glancing inside, Brell saw a young girl talking to an officer, her face shocked and tearful. A picture of a white equus with two foals hung on the wall. She looked up at Brell, who smiled and waved. The girl smiled back. What must she make of us lot running around in armour, let alone of what she has witnessed here? It had all the signs of a domestic incident; officers called, tried to talk to the couple, the male became stressed, cornered, and ended up firing at everyone. Their daughter, thankfully, had run into her bedroom. She will need to be taken outside before any firing.
Back in the living room, it was silent except for the drone hovering about, scanning and capturing everything for the control room evidential records.
“This is Sergeant Ritsma Police Corps, put down any weapons, decease from violence, and come to the door,” the sergeant shouted at the closed door.
Brell watched as he glanced at his wrist screen, made some secure comms, and then glanced back at his screen. The drone should be able to scan inside the room, as the walls were so thin. A team member moved forward, reached for a small device from a belt pouch, and screwed it into the wall.
Brell had no option but to keep back; her armour and weaponry did not match the Laser Team’s equipment. Also, tactics were best left in the hands of the team leader. She had not seen him before, but he appeared to know what he was doing. Makes a change.
Muffled shouting and swearing came from inside the room.
The sergeant still crouching, shuffled back from the bedroom door, indicating for Brell to join him in the corridor. The Medicos were working on the Corpsman; she was relieved when their scanners showed signs of life.
“Ma’am. We placed a small probe in the wall to double check. One male and the Corpswoman inside. They are sitting on the bed, backs against the wall facing forwards towards the door. He has an arm around her neck in a tight grip, whilst holding a laser pistol with his free hand. She is subdued, possibly unconscious, blood running from her nose.”
“Tactical options?” Brell said.
“Wait it out, storm in, bang pellets, etc.”
“He’s seriously injured a Corpsman, the woman in the living room is probably dead, and he’s not going to want to come out, is he?”
The sergeant paused. Brell knew that he wanted the reassurance of an Inspector’s authority before committing his team. She knew the sergeant’s look; she used to do it herself, to see if the Inspector was capable of making a decision. If she had not been there, there may have been a quick comms conversation with the control room Inspector. Whether he or she would have been given a correct situation report was another matter. However, Brell was there, time was of the essence, and she felt the weight of rank on her shoulders. Soon it would all be over, one way or another and when back in her quarters, she could have a cool intox just to settle herself. She snapped back to it.
“Corpswoman safety is our first priority. The male is secondary,” she said.
Glancing down, she watched the Medicos puffing something into the Corpsman’s face and laser spraying a wound. She scratched the back of her head, aware the sergeant still sized her up and was getting an alternative ready if she dithered. A thought came to her.
“Do you have a thin laser zapper?”
“Yes, we don’t use it much. What are you thinking?” The sergeant wrinkled his brow.
“Can you connect it to your wall probe?”
“Subtle,” the sergeant said, “I’ll ask Worm.” He spoke into a secure comm link. “Worm says, yes.”
“Any other weapons inside the bedroom?”
“No, scanners show only one in his hand.”
“Three quarter laser zap to his weapon forearm, then storm in.”
“Fatal laser to forehead?”
“No, I’ve seen that go wrong. One millimetre in the wrong place, still able to twitch their weapon hand.”
“Yes, I agree. Too near to the Corpswoman.”
“Also, get the young girl out, take her up to a Medico van.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Brell noted that the sergeant’s eyes softened; he was impressed with her thinking. Well, he didn’t know much about her career and experience, she wasn’t a desk serving officer moving up the ranks by just getting involved in community charity events.
“Let’s do it, then, sergeant.”
“Ma’am.”
There was not much Brell could do now, just keep up her professional composure. She couldn’t run around wringing her hands worrying about the Corpswoman. She was doing that internally, of course, but an intox would help later. Perhaps a Deep at the weekend? No, try and stay off it for a bit longer.
Within moments, a small laser pistol was connected to the end of the wall probe. The sergeant relayed instructions to Worm, after which the drone hovered into position. It became silent as the team waited for the officer with the laser to get ready. After a few hand movements, the officer gave a nod.
“Ready. It’s going to be ‘zap, door, then in’.”
The team members stood back slightly from the door, tensed up and crouched forward, ready to move.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Sergeant Ritsma shouted and banged on the door.
A mumbled, “Frag off” followed by other language came from inside.
“Zap.” The sergeant shouted out.
There was a buzz and a loud screech.
“Door.” The door imploded.
“In.” The team rushed inside.
Brell watched as four team members ran in; there were shouts and then it went quiet.
“Medicos into bedroom.”
One of the Medicos disappeared inside. Brell felt tense; there was still no news.
“Scene is safe,” Sergeant Ritsma announced.
Brell took it as her cue and walked past other team members, who had visibly relaxed and were chatting. It was crowded inside the room, which smelt of dissipated elec
trical charge and burnt flesh, but the Corpswoman was safe and alive. As for the male, his hand and forearm had been blown all over the bed sheets, on his face, and the wall behind him. It was a bloody black mess. The Medico had sprayed the male unconscious whilst he went about attaching a stauncher. The Corpswoman sat on the side of the bed talking to a team member who cleaned up her face. Brell left the room, she was just an observer and getting in the way. She went into the girl’s bedroom and looked at the pictures on the wall.
The sergeant came in, a recording device in his hand.
“Good job sergeant. If you could start the scene scans, I will get a detective down to take over and deal with the ongoing investigation. I’ll go up and check that the girl is okay.”
“Ma’am.”
***
The young girl sat in the back of the Medico’s van, a blanket around her shoulders, sipping at some water. Brell jumped in and sat opposite her.
“Hello, how are you?” Brell said.
“You’re blue.”
“Yes, that’s right, been blue all my life. See it doesn’t come off.” Brell wiped a finger down her cheek.
“How’s my mummy and daddy?”
“Well, we have some medical people looking at them now. They are not very well.”
“Daddy was very angry, he just lost his job. Mummy said he drinks too much.”
“Some people are going to take care of you. You’ll make some new friends.”
“Can I stay with you?” The girl reached forward and held Brell’s hand.
“That’s not going to be easy. You’ll be fine, promise.”
The sergeant appeared at the van door. Brell smiled at the girl and climbed out.
“We’ll get this one to local services,” she said.
“Okay, ma’am. Both officers will be okay. Grateful for that these days.”
Brell looked him up and down.
“I haven’t seen you before, are you new to the area?”
“Been on the Laser Teams for a year. Just transferred over, needed a change of scenery.”
“Well, good to see you …”
“Gorst, its Sergeant Gorst Ritsma.”
Chapter 25 - The Assassin
“Welcome, Kellsa.” Argenta waved to the cheering audience.
“Love you, Kellsa.”
“You already have a fan.”
“Yes. I’m getting a lot of zaps through.” Kellsa said.
“I’ve got one here. It’s from a girl on your home planet, Colony 09. She writes, ‘I like your tattoos, which gang should I join?’”
“How old is she?”
“Eleven.”
***
The girl was the same age as Kellsa had been when witnessing her first killing. Her early years were spent surviving on the boulevards and back alleys outside the city. The killing occurred during her school lunchtime; or it would have been, if she had gone to school that day. Preferring instead to hang around other teens and gangs, life on the streets was more exciting than school. Though good at gymnastics and bright by local standards, the allure of danger was too strong. Her favourite place became the bombed-out ruins of the Cathedral of Heights. Often climbing to the top to overlook the city, she would daydream about gaining enough credits to get out of the area. She climbed back down to the reality that she would always have to hustle and fight her way to get anywhere. The children’s home would only ever be a temporary place, the staff unable to keep the teens in check were grateful for the day when the youths turned sixteen. As one exited, another would arrive. Kellsa knew that she would make the decision to leave on her own terms.
***
“What about your family?” Argenta said.
“No family. The gang were my family.”
“That must have involved some nasty incidents.”
“Nasty.” Kellsa laughed, “very nasty.”
***
The first killing she saw was only supposed to have been a robbery. She acted as lookout whilst Fleba and Bib hassled, then stunned a lone male who should never have stumbled into the area. He fought back, kicked out at Bib, so Fleba slid a knife in his back. The three of them watched the incapacitated man slowly bleed to death, transfixed by the sight. Once dead, Fleba searched him and divvied up the credits. The wallet contained an expensive holographic display of the dead man with a woman and two smiling children.
When compared to other cities around the Galaxy, Colony 09 was not a “go to” place. The Galaxy Traveller’s Guide referred to the place as a “rebuilt bombsite.”
Much of Colony 09’s dwelling pods consisted of stacked portable containers placed amongst century old ruins. Shopping areas were located in concrete and metal underground bunkers due to crime problems. The Colony Elders had worked hard to make the city centre safe, in order to attract businesses and visitors. It became a walled city consisting of office blocks, hotels, dwelling apartments, and upmarket shops. Security inside and at the four gates was very tight with ID scanners, drones, cams, and regular Police Corps patrols. As the light started to fade, Kellsa enjoyed watching the tall blocks and dwelling towers lighting up against the dull lamps in the surrounding suburbs. The wall beam that snaked around the old buildings softly glowed as darkness drew in.
***
“We know from your Police Corps record that you murdered someone when you were fifteen. Tell us about it.” Argenta said, her face tilted at a ‘take me serious’ angle.
“The Corpsters have it all wrong. I was there, but someone else did it.”
***
By killing someone on her own, apart from testing her confidence, it would help improve her standing with the gang; otherwise, she would become an outcast. There wasn’t anywhere lower than becoming outcast in the ruins of Colony 09. The death was quick though, as she used a guided pencil laser that a friend had loaned her. As the man stepped out of his transporter, she zeroed in on his heart area and pressed the button without pausing. He would not have felt much, and died in the time it took to walk over to him. One of the older boys, who acted as a witness to Kellsa’s actions, pulled the body out of the way and took off in the man’s transporter. After that Kellsa, became a fully-fledged gang member, able to hold some sway over the group. Her tribal cheek tattoo solidified her loyalty. She kept aloof, dangerous, and was not one to strike up a conversation. It created a certain aura and tension, which she enjoyed.
***
“As you got older, I believe, you moved into the city. What work did you do?” Argenta said.
“Freelance security work.”
***
She remembered the scent used in the fake garden at the rear area of the cafe. Situated in an upmarket street, it was a drinking place used by bankers. He sat in the corner, drinking on his own, staring into the holo garden screens whilst tapping on his personal notepad.
“Hello.” Kellsa said.
“Do I know you?”
“No. But my friend knows you.”
“I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”
“I have a small dart in my hand. All I have to do is prick your skin with it.”
“You what? Sorry, are you threatening me? What is this all about?”
“Yes, I am threatening you. Nishaa says, don’t contact me again.”
“Nishaa, that scraggy, sorry mistake for a woman.” The man got up to leave.
Kellsa, stabbed him in the thigh.
“Ow, what? You stabbed me.” The man sat down again. “What was it?” He breathed heavily now, rubbing his leg.
“A lethal concoction. Takes ten minutes. I have an antidote though.”
“Lethal?” The man stood up and rubbed his thigh. His eyes were wide. “What did Nishaa say?”
“She does not want you to contact her or stalk her, by any real or virtual means, again, ever. Got it?” Kellsa got up and walked away.
“You, you can’t walk away. I need the antidote, don’t I? Unless this is all a joke?”
“It’s not a joke. Eight minutes.
Feeling sick yet?” Kellsa continued to walk.
The man held his head, then his stomach. “Okay, okay. I won’t contact her.”
Kellsa came back and stood directly in front of him.
“Say that again, like you mean it,” Kellsa said whilst turning on her image recorder.
“Nishaa, I will not contact you again. Sorry, and all that.” Outstretching his hands, he said, “Is that enough for you?”
“Again, but put more effort into it this time. Seven minutes. Bowels feeling loose?”
The man put one hand on his stomach and one on his backside. He then made a passionate promise to Nishaa.
Kellsa nodded and threw a plastic tube containing an antidote tablet on the ground. Before walking out of the garden, Kellsa glanced back to see the man scrabbling on the floor desperately trying to prise open the tube with shaking hands.
Gaining a name and respect amongst certain city dwellers, she became able to rent a small apartment. She dressed sensibly in order to merge into the city background and learnt to adapt her normally abrasive behaviour. Softening her voice when necessary, she also applied skin enhancers to hide her tattoos. A small real and hard holo workout centre kept her fit, only satisfied when her olive skin glowed with sweat. Relationships were difficult, preferring one night stands, but never with the same person.
***
“I just wanted to ask you about the politician’s murder, the one you got your life sentence for. We have some stream clips as well. What can you remember about it?”
“Nothing much, I just helped out. The Corps blamed me for everything.”
***
It was a double cross from start to finish. The request was from her usual agent, a shop worker go between, from one of the outer districts. The target was a woman, fifty years old, weathered face, from off-world, no visible security around her. Kellsa was uninterested in the reasons. It will be a nice big payout, perhaps enough credits to buy a larger apartment.
In the shadows of the cityscape and the only high-end real and virtual shop area, she tailed the woman. The target’s life consisted of leaving the apartment and taking a glide bus to a tall office building. Lunch was eaten at an upmarket real person diner, then back to the office and later home. The instructions were that the assassination had to “look like an accident.” Fine, but Kellsa was unwilling to shoot a medical drug at her in the street; too much security tech, her false ID implant could be a weak point. The apartment was the best location, make it messy then leave a note. Kellsa spent a few days watching the apartment at differing times of the day from the safety of an empty stacked living pod. Scanning the security systems, the best approach would be from the outside using a remote controlled silent laser dart.
