by Ian Williams
“We’re setting up over by the security entrance in five minutes. I’ll walk you there,” the officer said with his helmet placed under his arm. When Kristof went to follow, the officer stopped him with his large palm. “Forgetting something, sir?”
Looking back Kristof realised he had left his helmet on the table. Perhaps the nerves were still not completely under control. “Oh crap! Thanks,” he replied, grabbing it quickly. He lowered the padded helmet onto his head and moved it around, until he found a position that no longer forced the straps against his scalp. Now he was definitely ready. “Let’s go.”
They left Kristof’s small work area behind – it was an insult at more than half the size of the one he had before his demotion to nothing more than admin staff. The space he now had left him little room for any useful work to be done. The Chief Superintendent had seen to it personally that Kristof be side-lined and left completely out of the loop. It was a mistake he would be made to regret. Soon the incident would be brought to an end with one swift action. Kristof was already imagining his success.
He chose to take only one device with him, which he shrank down to its wrist screen size before curling it around his arm. After readjusting his vest and then rolling up his shirt sleeves, he was left with his arms bare. Annoyingly, this meant his wrist screen once again had slipped out of place. He slid it back into position and nearly dropped his weapon in the process. Still he remained intent on proceeding.
It was important not to be spotted while heading toward the building, so Kristof was led away before looping back. The press had been distracted with small incidents of disruption across the city, so they were none-the-wiser about his plan. Of course the same went for his boss and hopefully the Chief Superintendent too, both of who had given him strict instructions not to attempt anything – especially a raid such as the one he was heading into. This was what flashed to the front of his mind when his wrist screen began to beep with an in-coming call. It was his boss again.
Kristof stopped and turned to the officer by his side. “I need to take this. I’ll be less than a minute, I promise.”
“Fine,” the officer replied.
“Hello, sir.” Kristof lowered his weapon, keeping it just out of sight.
“What are you playing at, Kristof? I’ve just finished speaking with the Prime Minister and now I’m hearing you’re refusing to work with the Chief Superintendent there. Tell me this is just a bad joke.” His boss looked down at the papers on his desk, shuffling them around. He was clearly overwhelmed by the situation and had failed to notice the evidence right in front of him. The reason Kristof was not cooperating was made clear by the armour he now wore.
Noticing that his body armour was being caught by the video feed made Kristof anxious. He could not move it out of shot without suspiciously hiding everything below his neck. So he answered without drawing any undue attention toward the screen, which he angled slightly away from himself. “I’m sorry, sir. I will be sure to cooperate from this point on. Can I call you back in a second?”
“OK, but be quick.”
“Thank you, sir,” Kristof said just as he was about to swipe the call away.
“Hold on a minute. Are you wearing body armour? You arsehole!”
“I can explain–”
“Don’t bother. I’m putting a stop to this right now, do you understand me? You’re finished, Kristof. I can’t believe you would be so damn foolish. We’re discussing shutting down the entire relay network – if that’s even possible – and you’re still planning on starting your own little war.” Kristof’s boss punctuated the sentence with a smash of his fist onto the table in front of him. “You were ordered to stop. Listen to me clearly, when this day is done I’ll see to it that you never–”
The call ended the moment Kristof’s hand touched the screen and slid along. There was no point in hearing the rest. His boss had simply been panicking, that was all. He had heard the real message anyway, the one that had said: we can’t order you to risk your own life, but we need someone to take control, someone just like you!
“Problem?” the officer asked.
Kristof shook his head and felt his helmet shift to the side, threatening to fall off if not for the thick black straps. “Absolutely not. We’re a go,” he said with his thumb raised up to confirm. “We need to do this quickly. We’ll lose our chance to act the second the Chief Superintendent hears about this from my boss.”
“Roger that. Let’s get these bastards!” the officer replied with a slap of his weapon.
Walking around to the security door was fraught with danger, not least because of the security cameras littering their route. To keep these from giving their approach away the officer with Kristof took each out with a shot of his weapon before proceeding. The electrical charge contained within the gel instantly knocked them out without causing permanent damage. They were now heading directly into enemy territory, which lay just beyond a thick steel door. Once there they would be on their own and with only their training to get them through.
A line of nine other officers had already formed before they arrived. It was a good sign. So too was the realisation that another three had been enlisted into their small army. They all checked over their equipment one last time and tapped their black helmets against each other’s. It was impressive to see them all prepared and geared-up to fight. He just wished he felt the same confidence.
“Everyone here?” The officer with Kristof was evidently the one in charge of the team – or at least the most superior in rank. He did a quick head count, slapping those he already counted hard on the back as he went along the line. “Nice,” he said. He then focused on Kristof. “Right, this is it. Now, don’t panic, just follow us in. If you need help call for me by surname, it’s Richardson. OK? Good.” He did not wait for a response. “Here we go. One, two, three. Go, go, go.”
The team burst to life and pulled the door open so hard it nearly flew off its hinges. Then one by one they entered, each placing a hand on the shoulder of the man in front, like a heavily armed Congo line. They swung their weapons left and right to check every corner for any hidden terrorists and returned a ‘clear’ over the radio, before moving on.
Their speed had taken Kristof by complete surprise. He followed them in – dragged would be more accurate – and quickly found himself struggling to keep up. The man in front of him was showing little concern of leaving him behind. Had he made a mistake? He was certainly thinking so as he watched his guide jerk around another corner.
After an uneventful journey through the first few corridors, the team were soon heading toward the shopping floor. The terrorists were thankfully preoccupied with something else. So far they had posed no threat at all. Everyone, including Kristof, was expecting this would soon change. His companions did not drop a beat at all, they checked every inch of the corridor.
Kristof fiddled with his own weapon as he stuck close to the man in front. He did as the officer had shown him earlier by flicking down the safety catch. Or was it up? It was too late to second guess himself now, so he continued regardless. Perhaps the best tactic was to let the others do the work after all. While thinking things over he missed the sudden stop of the group and piled straight into the guy in front of him.
“Everything OK, Mr. Rajco?” Richardson said from the front of the bunch.
“I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” Kristof replied with a stutter.
“I was expecting resistance of some kind. Things are far too quiet.” Officer Richardson looked through a small window in the door ahead now. He scanned from left to right before turning back to his men – the coast was obviously clear. “When we enter I want two teams of two upstairs, one on either side. The rest split into two teams down here and chose a side. Kristof, you’re with the last ones through. Wherever they go, you go. Go.” He pulled the door softly open and crept inside.
Kristof was determined to get the next bit right without causing any problems – like bashing into the man in front a
gain. He pushed his rifle into his armpit and focused on sticking close to the team as they filed through the door quietly.
As requested, two teams broke away from the rest and took the stairs to the 1st floor, where their route would overlook the ground floor. The remaining six in front separated into two teams of three, with Richardson as the lead of these officers. Kristof did as ordered and stayed behind the man in front of him. It was not in his mind to do anything else, he had yielded his authority to the guy who actually knew what to do.
With the team of three in front of his having chosen to take the left side of the shopping floor, Kristof was left to follow those taking the right. They were sneaking along the shop fronts with their rifles raised and their eyes staring relentlessly ahead, checking for signs of movement. There were noises coming from ahead of them, but so far no-one had been spotted. Lots of echoing footsteps could be heard, like a classroom of excited children running around an assembly hall. Something was going on.
Ahead, Kristof could see the large fountain he saw in the plans, still spraying its display of water from an artificial waterfall to the right. To get across this they were given a choice; take the decorative bridge or sneak around. There was still time before reaching it for both to be weighed up, although the direct route felt less appealing to him. He had left his bravado behind.
“Contact,” the officer leading Kristof’s small team suddenly said. He held his hand out behind himself and moved slowly into the doorway of the shop he stood next to. His gun stuck out as he waited for the man to move away, stalking him like a predatory eagle getting ready to swoop into action. When it looked like he was about to leave he turned and spotted their team at the last minute. The officer wasted no time in bringing him down. He fired twice in quick succession, knocking the man out before he even hit the floor. “One down,” the officer said surprisingly calmly.
They continued on until only a few more shops remained before the fountain. Things were going far too smoothly. From this position, Kristof could see that the activity of the terrorists was limited to the area ahead. They were racing around with Taser-sticks in hand and zapping shop displays as they carried out some odd procedure. A man standing at the front of the complex watched over the progress. He guessed this was the man he had spoken to earlier, from the way people were reacting to him.
The officers in front of Kristof suddenly stepped into each other and nearly tripped him up. He stopped just in time, thankfully not adding his weight to the bundle too. Then he heard beeping. It was a distraction that none of them could ignore. Something had started to make a noise that threatened to give them away. All three went over their gear to find the culprit. Whatever it was it was getting louder by the second.
A squeak from someone’s shoe as they made a sudden change in direction interrupted their panic. When Kristof checked beyond his team he saw a man standing and peering into the distance. He was looking down the centre of the shopping floor. Luckily he had not noticed the two teams hugging the shop fronts yet.
“What’s making that noise?” the officer at the front whispered, while frantically slapping his body to find it. By now the noise had become audible to everyone within a few metres of them. “I can’t find anything. Wait, what’s that?” He turned his back to show the officer behind.
Kristof spotted the metallic object straight away and was disturbed to see the flashing red light in its middle. It had not been there a moment ago, so where had it come from? Then he saw another whizz past his face and stick to the same officer’s back. Now the pitch began to increase until everyone could hear them. It was clear why they had not met any resistance; the terrorists had booby-traps everywhere.
“Fuck! It’s a bomb,” the officer in front shouted. He then turned and ran, pushing Kristof back along with him.
It was too late. They could only make it a metre or so away before the bomb went off. The unfortunate officer caught by the blast vanished amid a spray of red mist and fleshy lumps that flew off in every direction. Another officer was launched into the air before landing on top of Kristof, who was himself thrown back a distance of ten feet.
Luckily for Kristof, he had been spared the brunt of the explosion, with the officer in front having acted as a shield. Still, the ordeal had all but deafened him and left him with severely blurred vision. He remained on his back, confused and in agony, with the officer’s body pinning him down. Both of his legs were throbbing. However, most of the pain was radiating out from his right hand, which had been gripping his rifle at the time of the explosion. He tried but could not get his arm loose to see why. All he could do was feel. Except everything he touched caused an explosion of seething and red hot pain to run through his body.
Looking to the side allowed him to get his bearings. He was now laying in the middle of the floor and in full view of anyone looking his way. Then he realised that things were not quiet at all, he had lost his hearing. While he watched the chaos continue around him the ground rumbled. A soundless scene played out as he watched the smoke and dust, kicked up by a second bomb, engulf them all.
He glanced ahead to the other team of officers. Judging by their silhouettes amid the floating debris their status appeared to be similar to his team’s, with all of them either rolling around the floor in pain or not moving at all. It was difficult to see what was going on around him. The screams were silent to him, just gaping mouths on petrified faces, which made them even worse to watch. At least he could see the extent of their injuries. He had yet to check himself over.
As a choking cloud of debris hung in the air, seemingly refusing to settle, Kristof pushed and kicked the body off of him. He froze in shock when he noticed the lack of movement in the dead officer’s eyes. That was until he turned the man over and saw the hole in his back. He shoved the body away and moaned out loud, but could only feel the vibrations from his call run through his own head.
The smoke and grit invaded his mouth and deposited a layer of dry matter on his tongue. He spat it out before it could choke him. He then wiped the dribble away from his mouth. Though he found his hand felt odd against his lips as he tried to touch them. Something warm was smeared across them unexpectedly. This was when he realised the fingers on his right hand were all missing except for one: the pinkie. All that remained of the others were flaps of skin and a steady ooze of blood. Most of the wound had been cauterised by the heat of the blast.
He could not look at the wound for long, choosing quickly to clamp it tightly under his left arm. As he did, the sight of more and more approaching terrorists spelled out the coming end. They would make light work of finishing him off, he knew. Yet they stopped before touching him. He looked around – black spots creating dead zones in his vision – and was surprised by the sudden shadow of a man being cast over him.
He still heard nothing and was forced to watch as the man began to order the others around with Hitler-esque waves and fist claps. He was no doubt deciding the fate of his new captives. When he leered down at Kristof, there appeared to be no shock or surprise in his eyes, only pleasure. He had won.
Kristof could only think back to just before the explosion. There was a blank page where the seconds leading up to it should have been detailed. He was not entirely sure he had not caused the blast himself somehow. Was it his fault? He struggled to see how.
All he could hear – inside his own head – was the sound of his boss warning him not to do anything. Maybe I should have listened, he thought as two of the terrorists roughly pulled him forward by the shoulder straps of his chest armour. Then it became too much for his brain to take. Slowly the black spots were winning, until only a circle of light remained. This too then dwindled away. Thankfully it took the pain with it.
* * *
Night had now fallen over the city, giving Phoenix the ideal opportunity to carry out her rescue plan. Her time after escaping from Anthony had been spent preparing for this very moment. She now stared at the concrete walls that contained her brothers somewhere ins
ide. It was not a police station as she expected when looking through the police database either, but an office building. Simova’s office building.
After stopping off at the warehouse to pick up some supplies, she was set to get Dillon and Sean out. She felt guilty about leaving them in a cell for so long. They did not deserve that. If only she had ignored Anthony. She would already have them with her if she had. Still, she was seeing to it now, so either way it would be done.
The Simova sign on top of the building glowed an ominous blue against the black of the night. She could see from her hiding place across the street that the top few floors were still full of workers. They were obviously stuck dealing with the mess she had helped create at the shopping centre. That was not going to stop her plan, it just made it a little more unlikely to succeed without having to fight her way out.
She delved into the shoulder bag filled with a collection of techie toys and felt for one in particular. From Anthony’s huge choice of weaponry, she had still opted for the nonlethal ones. Her favourite was a nice little Taser pistol that she had spotted while scavenging her way through the warehouse’s supplies. This would be her weapon. Not only for the way it felt in her hand, but also because it allowed her to shoot indiscriminately and not kill a soul with it. She had also grabbed a handful of the small yellow boxes she used to scramble the nearby security cameras while kidnapping the Simova guy, and a stun grenade that had caught her eye.
The walk across the street would be a quick one, she decided as she set off. Her route took her underneath the Mag-Lev line that ran right across the building, giving her a nice amount of cover before she would approach the entrance. She felt in the bag for one of the scrambler devices and switched it on. This would give her an estimated 20 minutes of anonymity. During her time staking out the building she had only seen one group enter in the past half hour. So she did not expect too much of an issue. Only two security guards were on duty in the lobby. Besides, the front door was the easiest way in without coming across some form of un-hackable security door.
