Nighter

by Magdalena Kozak

  That's all.

  ***

  “Ready to switch?” Nidor’s familiar voice said.

  Vesper smiled immediately.

  “Yes, sir!” he reported, not hiding his joy.

  Nidor had returned, replacing Alacer at the position of team leader. Very good. Vesper felt safer instantly, knowing that his friend was nearby, and that it was him making the decisions.

  He waited a moment on the roof until their replacements reached them. He gave them the shift report along with Daps, then swiftly ran down the stairs.

  Nidor smiled at his charge. He winked conspiratorially, even though the situation by no means made them giddy.

  Vesper sat down in his chair and leaned back. He reached into the pocket of a tactical vest, and groped out a flask. But then he withdrew his hand. It wouldn’t do for the police to think he was drinking on duty. And an explanation that it wasn’t alcohol, but blood, wouldn’t do much good either.

  He pushed himself up from the spot and he went to the toilet. He locked himself in the stall and pulled out the flask. It was only when he began to drink, that he realized how hungry he was already.

  “Oy, who are these guys anyway?” a quiet whisper reached him.

  Vesper stiffened, and reached with his mind in the direction of the voice. He relaxed after a moment. It was only two A-Ts hiding behind stalls and exchanging whispered comments.

  “Weird, aren’t they?” the second one murmured in response. “Supposedly a combat unit, but see, they are all officers. All lieutenants, and now a captain came in. These are not guys from Five for sure.”

  “And have you seen their equipment... top notch, right?” the first one sighed with undisguised envy in his voice. “MP5s, original German, not the Turkish, fake crap you can find anywhere now. Glocks all new. And they don’t lug bulletproof vests like us, only tactical ones... Which doesn’t mean they don’t have them.”

  “I bet you they wear them underneath,” his colleague agreed. “Once I saw a vest like that. Light, you could put it under your shirt and suit and nobody could tell the difference. But it protects better than ours.”

  “Fuck, Gavron, who are those guys? Where did they get that equipment? It’s some crap, I tell you, real crap!”

  “Yeah, and a heavy one too!” Gavron gasped in response. “Or their gloves, did you see? Seemingly ordinary leather, I bet that's bullshit. I saw ones like that on the internet. Frisk masters, resistant to a knife wounds...”

  “You know what I think?” His colleague interrupted. “I think those ladies are on their first mission. Who the hell knows, maybe this is political for them. There was so much pressure for us to take them along, did you hear the director arguing? Anyway, the boys are where they wanted to go. So they made a fuss, that they won’t go anywhere without equipment. And money was, of course, found for the officers. Besides, they’re ISA, everything is classified, so don’t you think they can get the budget worked in their favor?

  “You're probably right, Crumbly,” the other agreed with a sigh. “That’s how it probably is.”

  They were silent for a moment. Vesper finished the last of the blood from the flask, put it in his pocket. He stepped out of the stall, trying to open the door so it wouldn’t creak.

  “It could get tough,” Crumbly said grimly. “Who the fuck knows what that we stepped into here. And we’ll have to watch those sissies so they don’t hurt themselves on a doorknob.”

  “Fuck that,” Gavron frothed up. “They wanted to be here, so ha! I have my job to do, and I plan to watch my ass. And my colleagues. And if someone sticks their nose in other people’s business, he does it at his own risk.”

  “You don’t have to worry about us,” Vesper said, walking over to the cops. “You really don’t need to.”

  Suddenly they straightened up, and turned, looking at him particularly unkindly.

  Vesper stared at them carefully. One of them was a big, bear-like guy, the other also tall, but stick thin.

  “Right” the bear-like one snapped, he recognized Crumbly’s voice. “Spies everywhere. Of course, it’s ISA after all.”

  “Come on, man.” Vesper waved in a conciliatory gesture. “We're in the same boat. Especially now.”

  The police officers remained silent, glancing at him warily.

  “Don’t worry about us,” the nighter repeated with emphasis. “And watch out for yourself, watch out like hell. When you see a terrorist, don’t think about arresting him. Shoot him in the head immediately. They are extremely dangerous; you don’t even realize how much.”

  “We have our procedures,” Crumbly said icily. “And we’ll stick to them. We don’t have the slightest desire to hear anyone’s lectures on the subject.” He paused, his expression by no means encouraging further discussion.

  “Well,” Vesper said much coolly than before. “Just don’t say later that nobody warned you.” He turned and away; not slamming the door was difficult.

  He returned to small room, and looked at Nidor, who was standing motionless by the window.

  “What is it?” the captain asked right away, as soon as he felt eyes on himself.

  They will die, the stupid, self-righteous bastards! Vesper telepathically burst out. They will die, because they still don’t believe that anyone can be more cunning, stronger, and much more determined than they are! In a slow, seemingly careless step, he walked over to the chair and sank into it again.

  Don’t get yourself in a twist, kid, his friend replied. In their minds, we stuck ourselves on their territory, with really bad, non-convincing reasons on paper. No wonder they don’t want to listen to our brilliant advice.

  But all of it will end badly for them! Vesper growled in response. At their own request!

  Everything that was necessary was said in the briefing, a chill appeared in Nidor’s telepathic voice. They know they are dealing with unusually dangerous opponents, who will use unconventional methods.

  “Suuure,” the young one hissed. “That the opponents will slice their necks and drink the blood... was also in the briefing? I don’t remember that, unfortunately. Not at all.”

  “The renegades will not come here to hunt,” the captain said flatly. “Just to kill. Only that.”

  “We put them into this shit, and you know it,” Vesper said grimly. “There should be a hundred of them here, maybe then they would have a chance. Yes, I know, they decided that ten people from their side would be enough. But we should have insisted...”

  “We insisted,” Nidor retorted. “You see how they listen to us. They know better... oh well. They’re just people, after all. They have right to make mistakes.” He turned from the window, looked at his colleague seriously. “And you stop raving. And don’t be such a Mother Teresa, because you don’t know if you will carry your ass out alive from here, either.”

  “At least I know what’s going on, and am going in consciously,” the lieutenant raised his face, answering the commander with a hard look. “And they don’t.”

  You are still so young... the other stated in his mind, walking up to him and sinking into the neighboring chair. “Do you really think you’re more than just a pawn? You know what’s going on, really? Then tell me, because I, for example, don’t have such certainty.”

  Vesper turned his head toward the window, staring out into the night. He was silent for a moment.

  “The ways of Lords are inconceivable,” he said in much calmer tone. “You’re right, man. We are doing our own bit, and the rest... It’s just not our business.”

  “Good boy,” Nidor said, ending the discussion.

  Vesper looked at the clock hanging on the wall. Three in the morning. Four more hours and it would be over. Fortunately, he caught onto the night watch. The day guys would suffer horribly, smeared with Total Sun Block from head to toe, with UV filtered contacts stuck in their eyes.

  But maybe the renegades wouldn’t feel like attacking during the day. In the end, they must have some contingency plans, and those could be e
xtremely brutally wrecked by the May sunshine, shining forcefully.

  He sighed, looked back out the window. Oh, boredom.

  Crumbly and Gavron walked into the room, ending their bathroom conference. They approached their colleagues sitting on the bench against the wall in an even row. They joined them, without changing their stone, polite expressions even for a moment. Perhaps carrying weapons and equipment through the night was wearing them out, but they wouldn’t be caught showing it in any way. Waiting, they all were left with one thing.

  Waiting.

  ***

  “Captain, a gasoline tanker is coming this way,” Ebur reported from his roof crouch.

  Nidor jumped up right away and got onto the radio.

  “Brick Two, this is Brick One, how’s it going?” He asked for the audience’s sake.

  “One, no two tankers going down the expressway in our direction,” the nighter said. “They have a Statoil label, so they’re carrying gasoline...or gas.”

  “Check if there are more of them in the area,” Nidor ordered immediately. “Gents, attention!” he turned to the A-Ts observing him tensely.

  They jumped up immediately, standing in a neat row. They began to adjust loose straps, and check equipment parts and weapons.

  Vesper and Daps also raised out of their seat, much more slowly and calmly. They established a telepathic communication with their colleagues on the roof. If anything happened, they would give them information directly. And the captain would coordinate the actions.

  “No, there are no others, there are only these two. Going quietly, slowly,” Ebur reported further over the radio. “Turned into Fleming Street.”

  “If they turn into the driveway, be alert. If they try to run the gate down, shoot the drivers,” Nidor ordered. “You two, upstairs,” he ordered loudly, looking briefly at Vesper and Daps. “Secure the target. Now!”

  The nighters rushed to the window. They looked questioningly at the commander.

  “Okay,” the captain agreed. “Only without exaggeration!” he added in his mind. “We keep the camouflage as long as possible.”

  They went out the window. They began to pretend to rapidly climb the smooth wall, when in fact they flew up comfortably.

  Nidor looked at the policemen, hiding a slight smile of satisfaction. Their faces unquestionably testified that suddenly they’d begun to gain some respect for their ISA partners. In their heads, the two men free-climbed live, without any harnesses.

  “Perhaps the tankers are only carrying fuel from one station to another,” he said calmly. “There are plenty of Statoils in the area. But maybe not... so we have to be vigilant.”

  “Are we going?” Gavron asked directly.

  Nidor shook his head.

  “Not yet,” he said. “Because maybe this is just a diversion, planned to turn our attention away. We’ll run into the parking lot, and in the meantime, the real problem will occur elsewhere. We wait.”

  The cops nodded, agreeing with his train of thought. And they warmed up little, gaining a little confidence in Nidor as a commander. A little bit, no more.

  “They went further,” the nighter reported over the radio. “Didn’t even slow down.”

  A slight relaxation, like a feeling of relief was visible in the cops.

  “Wait a little bit,” the captain said calmly. “Look after them. Brick Three, how’s it going?”

  “Clear over here,” Vesper reported immediately.

  “Good. Brick Two?”

  “They turned into Pulaski Street,” the nighter said. “Loss of visibility.”

  Did you sense the driver? Is it one of ours? Nidor asked telepathically.

  No, said Brick Two. Human. For sure.

  “Brick Three, come back down,” the captain demanded. “Brick Two, back in position.” He switched the radio to another frequency. “Security... Please make an additional patrol, immediately.”

  “Yes, sir!” the security guard said with undisguised distaste. “You got it.”

  “Confirmed,” Nidor said and turned off the radio.

  After a while, Vesper and Daps came in through the window, pretending they didn’t notice the glances thrown at them by the police.

  “Unnecessary risk, you should go down the stairs!” Nidor rebuked them immediately.

  “We’ve been practicing, Captain,” Vesper said brazenly. “Easy peasy to be honest,” he said and grinned.

  Nothing more than showing off, Nidor said to both of them in his mind. But who knows, maybe the little demo will come in handy. They may be more willing to cooperate.

  Vesper and Daps both smiled.

  “Captain,” the nighter’s voice from above sounded unusually uneasy. “It looks like they’re back!”

  “Same ones?” the captain asked immediately.

  “Er, boss... A whole fucking army of them are coming here!”

  “Upstairs,” Nidor said quietly, looking at Vesper and Daps. “Now.”

  A few tankers, with various oil companies’ logos on them, were approaching the Polfa Tarchomin facility at full speed.

  “Renegades behind the wheel!” Reported Daps as soon as he reached the top. “One hundred percent sure.”

  “Shoot at every opportunity!” Nidor ordered. “Don’t allow them near the target!”

  He looked the A-T team frozen in silent question. He cursed in his mind. And what were ten of them to do in such a situation? A hundred, yes... but ten?

  “Go secure the key target,” he ordered decisively. “Go!”

  They poured out on the stairs in even rows, stairs pounding with the rhythmic blows of their boots. Nidor ran to the window and went outside. He climbed up the wall and joined his colleagues on the roof.

  He looked around quickly, assessing the situation.

  “We’re not gonna stop those!” He waved his hand toward the railroad tracks partitioning the area from the east. “Let’s take care of the driveway!”

  Nighters ran to the western edge of the roof. They communicated instantly, agreeing among themselves, and each picked his target. The quiet swish of shots was lost in the roar of the oncoming engines.

  Two of the closest tankers suddenly began to drive in a very strange, wobbly path. They drove across the lawn to the driveway and reached the buildings, hitting them with momentum. But nothing broke, the vehicles frozen in place. No one moved inside the crushed cabins. All the shots were right on target, and at time of collision the drivers were already dead.

  In the meantime, another tanker rammed the fence from the north. The high metal partition covered the driver from the sniper’s shots, but didn’t stop a speeding vehicle. The tanker lost its suspension on the small wall, but it managed to make it at least a dozen yards onto the premises.

  The Anti-Terrorists were approaching the building where the artificial blood was to be produced.

  The nighters on the roof prepared themselves for a shot. Another tanker was already in the driveway. With the deafening noise of roaring engines and ripped metal sheets, the next shots could only be assumed. With an odd, wobbly trajectory, the tanker went straight for the gatehouse. It hit the concrete with a crash, smashing the wall partially.

  In the distance, at the southern end, something was happening too. They could only guess that more renegades would attack from Plochocinska Street’s side.

  Suddenly, everything went quiet. The tankers stood motionless where they’d stopped, as if it were already the end of the show.

  A characteristic smell of spilled gasoline hit the nighters’ noses.

  And then all hell broke loose.

  Perfectly coordinated detonations set in the tankers to explode simultaneously. They enflamed a river of spilled ethylene.

  “Ebur, you stay here, on the roof. Watch the hall, and don’t let anyone near it,” Nidor ordered. “Falx, you go to the other side of the building, cover him. Vesper and Daps with me!” He walked to the edge of the roof and jumped down.

  The nighters raced after him. Crumbly, wat
ching from a window in administrative office, saw four silhouettes, clear against the sky, jumping from the roof of the Board building and disappear into the darkness. He shook his head in disbelief.

  After a while, Nidor entered the room, and Vesper with Daps appearing in the door behind him.

  “Everyone, with me,” ordered the commander.

  They followed the order immediately.

  “You and you, step forward,” Nidor pointed to two A-Ts. “You go with him.” He motioned for Gavron to go with Daps. “You will secure the staircase.”

  “Yes, sir!” They responded together.

  “You and you,” he paired Crumbly with Vesper, “to the elevators. The rest with me. Move!”

  Hasty boot thuds sounded out.

  Nidor and the squad rushed to the stairs. They ran down to the actual production hall set beneath the ground.

  Daps with Gavron remained on guard in the stairwell.

  Vesper and Crumbly ran to the other side of the building, where the packaging center was located. Goods produced in the basement were delivered to the top through large lift shafts. They looked around quickly and hid in the space between the lifts. The niche gave them a pretty good cover, allowing for hall observation.

  “Wait here!” Vesper said suddenly and went back to the door they’d just walked through.

  On his way there, he grabbed an empty glass coffee carafe that was left behind on one of the cabinets. He took out a grenade from his pocket, and pulled the pin out. Carefully holding the handle so it wouldn’t jerk, he put the grenade in the glass coffee pot, and set it on top of the slightly open door.

  Crumbly watched this maneuver with appreciation.

  “You guys are not completely helpless,” he announced graciously.

  “The ones coming will be much better,” Vesper said seriously, returning to the niche. “Forget your police nonsense like, ‘Stop, or I’ll shoot!’ Shoot in the head immediately.”

  The A-T looked at him carefully, without a word.

  “I repeat, in the head,” Vesper wouldn’t get baffled. “Shooting the torso won’t do anything.”

  “Why?” the other man asked quietly.

  Vesper was silent for a moment.