Rebuilt: A Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Novel (Jake Dani / Mike Shapeck)

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Rebuilt: A Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Novel (Jake Dani / Mike Shapeck) Page 17

by Victory Crayne


  The first time she did that, he groaned.

  She added, “I can keep this up a lot longer than you can bear it. Tell me when you are ready to talk.”

  After six more paddles to his balls, each accompanied by a moan, Nguyen uttered the welcome words.

  “Wait a minute!”

  Gancha hesitated. “Are you ready to talk?”

  Nguyen’s blindfolded head nodded.

  “It’s just a frickin’ job. Not worth going through a lot of pain. But I want some guarantees.”

  Gancha said, “I can’t guarantee anything.”

  “Then get someone here who can.”

  Gancha blew air between pursed lips and stood, leaving Nguyen secured in his chair.

  Gancha came into the planning room and said, “Nguyen is ready to talk but wants guarantees.”

  “So soon?” I asked.

  “I said I couldn’t make that decision. You’ll have to do it.”

  I nodded as I rose from my seat. “You do all the talking. I only want him to hear your voice.”

  I followed Gancha into the torture room, which occupied one chair of the exercise room.

  Gancha said, “I brought someone who could help you. But you’ll have to tell us everything.”

  Nguyen nodded.

  Gancha added, “What guarantees do you want?”

  The naked Nguyen, taped to the hardwood chair and blindfolded, replied, “Either turn me loose or kill me.”

  Gancha looked at me and got a nod in return.

  “It looks like you’ll get what you wanted.”

  “Turn me loose?” asked Nguyen.

  I nodded.

  Gancha added, “You’ll get that. Now talk.”

  I left in the BIS van where I removed my disguise. Once on Nguyen’s street, I collected all the cameras we had left.

  #

  I got a tag from Gancha and returned to the ops center. After we placed Nguyen in the jail and went into the planning room, I turned to Gancha. She still had a dark face. She busied herself removing the disguise.

  “Well, what did he say this time?”

  “Where do you want me to start?”

  “What did he know about killing Jake and Ron?”

  “He led the team who did that.”

  “Oh, that’s interesting,” I said. “Did he describe his part?”

  Gancha told me the details. Since I was not there at the time, I pictured the animation of the assassination. What Nguyen said matched perfectly.

  “Nguyen also said he was ordered to kill you when you visited my place.”

  So Getner knows about me. And Gancha. How the hell did he find that out so fast?

  “And what did he say about Getner? Did you ask about what that bastard had in mind?”

  What Gancha said next showed imagination on the part of Lewinkov Minsky. I wondered if the greed for power of that man ever had an end.

  Gancha ended by saying, “Nguyen is finished at YSA.”

  Chapter 45

  I saw my note to myself to take care of Deek’s suspension.

  One problem at a time.

  I showered, went into the dorm room, and put on my street clothes. As I put on my shoulder Snap, I smiled to myself in the mirror.

  In the planning room, I reviewed my report on Nguyen and sent it off to Earth.

  Gancha came up in a green cashmere sweater top and tight green skirt. She looked absolutely marvelous. But then again, she usually did. Call me biased.

  I stood and went to the dorm to see Zetto sitting in his underwear.

  “Where’s Andy?” I asked.

  “Gone to the Best Northern hotel. Said he’d shower and change there,” replied Zetto.

  From another source, I learned Stella was at that same hotel.

  Could he be with her for an afternoon tryst?

  Gancha came in behind me and when Zetto spotted her, he rushed to cover himself with a towel.

  “I’ve seen it all on a man,” she added.

  She turned to me.

  “I want to tell Alena about my warrant,” said Gancha.

  “Where’s she staying?” I asked.

  “At Dr. Albert’s place.”

  “Can I come along?”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Gancha drove while I sat in the driver’s seat.

  When we entered the front door, the first person we saw was Alena with her legs tucked under her as she lay reclined on the sofa, reading an ereader. She looked up as we arrived.

  “Well?” she asked. “How did it go?”

  I replied, “Gancha doesn’t have to worry about visiting Earth now.”

  Alena stood in her stocking feet. Gancha walked up to her and gave her a hug.

  My turn was next.

  When I hugged my daughter, I had a thought.

  It’s good to be a dad.

  #

  Back in the ops center, I tagged Deek while Gancha stayed in the dorm.

  “How’s your case coming?”

  “Not good.”

  He was silent for a few seconds.

  “Time to jump ship?” I asked.

  “I’d rather not. Jake, …er Mike, can you help here?”

  “Let me see.”

  We disconnected and I pondered the case against Deek.

  What the hell could I do?

  Asking the question, I got my answer. Good ol’ brain. After we disconnected, I tagged Andy, my security expert.

  “I need your special talents.”

  I explained what I wanted.

  “Piece of cake,” he replied. “Off-the-shelf stuff.”

  “Can you bring two over to the ops center?”

  “When?”

  “Now would be a good time.”

  Next I tagged Vincent.

  “Vin, are you ready for another op?”

  “Sure. Where we goin’?”

  “This one is a one-man op. Well, two. I’m sending Zetto. He’ll be your backup.”

  #

  That same day, Vincent tagged Emily Mastar.

  “I’m Vincent. You don’t know me but I have information about Deek Tanny.”

  “What do you have?”

  “I can’t say over the phone. Where and when can we meet?”

  “In the parking lot of the city building?”

  “Okay. When?” Vincent added.

  “Tomorrow morning at ten.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  The next morning, Vincent wore contacts, full black beard, and eyebrows. Zetto would stay out of sight.

  Just before ten, Vincent stood outside the BIS van and scanned the doors in the parking lot. A short lady marched out of one and looked around. Short, wearing a business suit, and with a serious glare to her face. He waved, she saw him, and walked away. Vincent rushed up to join her.

  “Name’s Albert. Are you Emily?”

  She nodded as she walked past the jail on North Central Park Avenue.

  “Whatcha got?” she asked.

  “This is better done away from prying eyes.”

  She followed him as they walked into the public parking lot that served both the jail and the city building. When they got between two empty vans, Vincent turned toward her.

  “As I understand it, your case against Deek Tanny hinges on the deposits Cho Lister and he made. I’m a private investigator. I paid Deek that money for services he rendered. Tag numbers, license plates, comm numbers, etc.”

  “So?”

  Vincent looked around as if he wanted to be sure he was not being watched. Then he pulled an envelope out of jacket and handed it to her.

  “Can you find a way to drop the case against both men?”

  She took several minutes before she asked, “How much?”

  Gotcha.

  He said, “This envelope contains twenty thousand sols. There will be another just like it when I learn your investigation is closed.”

  She put up her right hand with its palm facing toward him.

  “Sorry.”
<
br />   Crap.

  Chapter 46

  The next day, after taking a shower, Stater dressed in blue jeans with a light blue shirt, and walked into the main room to see Randy and Sam. They brought coffee. Tasted pretty good too.

  Both men wore jeans and dark-blue cotton shirts. Maybe it was the fashion down here.

  Randy showed us our new weapons. Snaps. But he didn’t think to bring along any ankle ones.

  Oh well, can’t have everything.

  Sam stated, “I have a local deli as a client. They agreed to loan me one of their vans and three of their uniforms.”

  Randy was on the board of directors of a local theater group and had participated in several plays. He brought along some makeup.

  We went over the op as we put on our disguises from the theater group.

  “Get any sleep?” Stater asked.

  “Some,” said Sam.

  “Same here,” replied Randy.

  “Most of the time, we get little sleep just before an op,” added Stater. “Nerves.”

  The two guys put on their armor first. Stater raised the front of his shirt to show them he already had his on.

  “What’s the political situation here in Telmot?” Stater asked.

  Sam said, “Bingers are pretty influential. Five of us are on the city council. Most of us came to Rossa with money and used it to start businesses.”

  “My family loaned me money and I bought a ranch,” added Randy. “Most Bingers back on Earth are high up in organizations.”

  “We’ve wanted a place to call home for many years,” said Sam as he checked his SK-48 automatic. “Telmot looks like it. This is our best chance anyway. That’s why it’s important to take down these protesters.”

  “That brings up another thing,” Stater said. “We need to find a way to give credit for this op to other people. We can’t have it known that BIS was involved in any way.”

  “I thought of a way,” said Sam. He went on to provide details.

  Stater turned to Sam and Randy.

  “You two are pretty good. Experience?”

  Sam replied, “I was in the SEALS program.”

  Randy reported, “I spent two years in Unipol. Mostly undercover stuff.”

  That fit what Mike had sent to Stater on both men.

  Stater asked, “Are you ready?”

  Nods came all around.

  “Let’s go then.”

  #

  Since Sam knew most of the cops around the Telmot City Hall, Stater let him do most of the talking after they approached the police barrier. They didn’t like the idea of us going in unarmed and looked relieved when we showed their Snaps.

  Stat, Sam, and Randy each pushed a cart of food up the ramp leading into the city hall. Each wore white pants, a white long-sleeved top, and a white cap. On their chests and backs were the logo of the deli. Two civilian guards stood watch as they made their way.

  “Let me to the talking from here out,” said Stater.

  Sam led the way. Ahead lay the servant’s entrance. Behind them lay the cordon of federal and city police as well as the parked van from the deli.

  Two men with rifles, wearing blue jeans, jackets, and cowboy hats stood by the door.

  “You guys have some supporters in the catering business,” said Stater. “We brought some sandwiches, snacks, and coffee. We figured you guys might be a little hungry after a while. Certainly, the hostages will be.”

  When they saw the food on the trays, they let the team in. Sam opened the door and the trio entered. Sam led the way down the corridor to the service elevator, where they met two men in wide-brimmed hats and rifles.

  Per the plan, the three BIS agents pulled their silenced Snaps out and pointed them. The two guards weren’t expecting the caterers to be armed. It was three with guns drawn against the two of them. They readily dropped their weapons and raised their hands. Stater motioned with his handgun that the two were to get in the elevator with them. Per the plan, none of Stater’s team said a word. Randy put his Snap away and picked up the rifles.

  When they got to the second floor with the city council chamber, two more men with rifles stood guard in the hallway. Both yawned as the carts exited the elevator.

  Sam and Randy pushed their carts forward. Stater followed behind two of the captives, with a Snap pointed at their backs, out of sight. They made the two guards push carts.

  Both armed guards were surprised to see two of their compatriots pushing carts.

  “What’s this?” asked one man

  When Stater got out of the elevator, he pointed his gun at one of the two riflemen. Randy and Sam also held guns on them.

  Stater said, “You have two choices. One is to drop your weapons and raise your hands.

  “Two is die right here.”

  One of the two with rifles raised his. Stater placed a bullet in his chest from his silenced Snap. As the man fell backwards, the other guard’s jaw dropped as he stared at his fallen comrade. From the look on his long hair and cowboy hat, Stater figured he was around twenty.

  “Drop it!” Stater shouted.

  Like a startled boy, he dropped his rifle and raised his hands with his wide-opened eyes on Stater’s gun. From the look on his face, Stater suspected this was probably his first taste of combat.

  I’d do the same if I were in his shoes.

  Sam put plastic cuffs on the young man while Sam led the way with his cart to the council chambers across the hall.

  When Sam opened the double doors with his back, Stater beheld a dozen, maybe more, people on the floor. A dozen men stood, four of them with their rifles pointed at those on the floor. Several held coffee mugs in their hands. Three stood next to their captive in the chair.

  Stater scanned the hostages on the floor to see if he could spot Beach Omar. The woman on the chair with her arms taped behind her raised her head. A red and black blindfold was wrapped around her head and her hands were tied in the back.

  She was also naked above the waist.

  Chapter 47

  Since the insurgency started, fifty guys with rifles had joined them by crashing through the police lines in trucks. They parked on the grass and carried guns as they entered the cement building. Stater learned later that most of them ended up standing guard on the windows on the first floor.

  As the BIS team entered the council chamber with its U-shaped podium, most of the hostages lay on the floor inside the U.

  The three BIS agents in the chamber opened fire on the men with rifles. Twelve of them to four of us weren’t good odds, except for the armor. Stater was an experienced gunmen and opened fire at once. Sam opened fire with his SK-48 automatic.

  Stater felt a slug on his chest but it did no lasting harm since he wore armor. Stung like hell though. The guy who shot him was not wearing armor and when Stater returned fire the guy fell to the floor.

  It took less than a minute of gunfire before the smoke cleared and the three were left standing. Four of the other guys held their empty hands up in the air.

  From their wide-opened eyes and shaking hands, Stater figured this was their first experience at combat.

  Stater counted ten on the floor. All but two were out for the count and lay still. The two had pain on their faces and wore blood on their flannel shirts.

  One kept yelling, “I’m hit. I need a doctor.” He yelled the part about needing a doctor over and over again.

  Sissy.

  Stater raised his comm and pressed a few buttons.

  “Now would be a good time. We have gained control of the hostages.”

  Sam had taken a hit in his left arm. Stater put a StopIt on it while Randy took the SK-48 and covered the insurgents. Stater gave the wounded man a morphine pill and water from a bottle.

  Randy kept an additional Snap pointed at the men with raised arms. The look on his face said, “I know how to use this.”

  Stater busied himself putting plastic cuffs on the two wounded insurgents. The cuffs would require someone with a sharp kn
ife to break free.

  After he completed that task, he had time to study the hostages. Most kept their heads down during the shooting. Three peeked from behind chairs. Everyone had faces of fear.

  Stater announced to them, “Please be patient until the police get here. They’ll want to take your statements.”

  There were maybe a dozen of them, a mixture of men and women.

  Stater yelled, “Who led this protest?”

  One of the male hostages pointed out the leader of the insurrection. Unfortunately, that guy was on the floor. Dead. Big guy. Probably over six feet and carried maybe three hundred pounds on him. But bullets don’t discriminate. They just kill. If shot in their torsos, bigger guys may last longer, but a head shot is just as fatal.

  Stater rushed up to the chair with Beach. He took out his knife, cut her bonds, and removed her blindfold. Then he stood between her and most of the men while one of the female hostages covered her up with a blanket. Where that came from, Stater don’t know.

  They stood like that with gunfire in the distance until four guys in black burst through the door. Each had a heavy duty automatic rifle. On the front of their dark clothes the word “Police” was written in white.

  The BIS team stood out in their white uniforms.

  “Freeze!” yelled the lead cop.

  Stater raised his Snap in the air with his hands. Randy lowered his automatic to the floor and followed suit. Sam sat on the floor and raised his hands.

  Soon, four more guys in black with “Police” on their chests entered.

  Stater could see more guys in black and with raised guns in the distance.

  “Who’s in charge here?” yelled the lead cop.

  “I am,” said Stater.

  The cop’s name plate said Moore. From the insignia on this uniform Stater guessed he was a Lieutenant.

  “Lieutenant Moore, you came at just the right time.”

  “You the guy who called?”

  Stater nodded.

  Moore said to the other cops, “These guys with the deli on their shirts are part of the rescue team.”

  Chaos reigned for the next ten minutes. In the commotion, Stater motioned with his head that the BIS team was to leave. Randy and Sam followed.

 

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