Thrumming at the edge of the platform was a four-car subway train. It was nothing like the one Bishop remembered taking to the store. This one was sleek, polished steel with the rounded lines and aerodynamic, art-deco styling of the nineteen thirties. Even standing still, the train gave the impression of elegance and speed.
The open doors of the cars showed plush, club car interiors with leather and chrome chairs and couches, side tables and lamps, except for the last car which had the stripped, spare interior of a baggage car.
A man dressed in a white lab coat, carrying a clip board was directing the activity on the platform. Boxes were being loaded into the baggage car by two over-muscled workers in coveralls who stacked them against the walls as if they weighed practically nothing. Lab-coat checked each one off against a list attached to his clip board.
Finishing the last check-off, he made a come-on gesture to someone down the platform. With a rattle, more workers appeared pushing three metal cages like the ones Bishop had seen in the garage. The cages were taller than they were wide with wheels on the bottom for easy movement. Two had huddled forms in the bottom, one curled in a fetal position. In the third a defiant boy of about fourteen stood, swaying on his feet, hands clutching and shaking the bars of the cage. It was Mouser.
* * *
“You better let me go!” Mouser was yelling. “People are gonna come looking for me. They’re gonna kill you, you fuckers. You perverts are all gonna die for this. You just wait . . . “
A little man in a striped suit and bowler hat who’d been trailing the cages stuck his arm through the bars and punched Mouser in the back. The boy’s whole body went into spasm and he collapsed to the bottom of the cage. The cage pusher laughed as Bowler Hat dropped the Taser back into his jacket pocket.
“That’s him!” Bishop whispered. “That’s the little freak you blew out the window in Tesslovich’s office. He’s still alive just like Tesslovich!”
Ariel started to surge forward, but Ez was quicker and blocked her way. “Too many,” he said. “More on the train. We’re outnumbered.”
“They’ve got Mouser!”
“We can’t take them all, El. We’d just be showing our hand. Right now they don’t know we know what they’re doing. We still have the element of surprise. We can find out where the tunnel goes and get him and hopefully the rest of the kids back.”
“I can’t let them take him!”
“You have to. They don’t know he’s a shifter. When he comes to he can probably get out all by himself, fly right between the bars and escape before they know he’s gone.”
“Ez is right,” Bishop agreed. “We need a plan.”
Ariel was staring through the small window, watching as the cages were strapped in and the other passengers took their places in the forward cars. The little man in the striped suit was the last one aboard. He took one last look behind him, as if he sensed their eyes on his back, then stepped into the baggage car.
With a hiss, the train began to move forward. As it disappeared into the tunnel the lights on the platform dimmed, then extinguished one by one until the platform was dark.
Ariel shook Ez’ restraining hand off her arm. “If anything happens to Mouser, I’ll never forgive either of you.”
“It’s my fault.” A voice behind them said. “I should have never let him go back for his shoes.”
* * *
They all swung around. Part of Bishop’s brain noticed that the ruff of hair down Ez’ spine was standing up like an attack dog. He heard the snick of Ariel’s gravity knives falling into place and felt the weight of the Glock as he brought it up, ready to use it against whatever new threat this was.
“Don’t kill me; I’m on your side.” A man in a loose, brown pull-over and brown pants moved toward them, arms held out from his sides, hands empty. A dark scarf covered his head, one end wrapping his neck trailing over a shoulder and down his back. Calm, amber colored eyes in a dark face seemed to hold neither threat nor fear.
“Cassius,” Ez said. “One of these days you’re going to sneak up on the wrong person.”
Cassius’ teeth showed briefly in an unapologetic grin. “Wasn’t sneaking Ezrim,” He said. “I was trying to get to the boy before he got himself in trouble. Too late I see.”
“They took Mouser.” Ariel told him. “They caged him and put him on the train. A demon knocked him out with a Taser. There were two other kids. They seemed to be unconscious. We need to rescue them before they get hurt.”
“Easier said than done,” The brown man said. “You’d all better come with me. They’ll be missing their ‘goyles soon and send somebody to look around.”
“We should have gotten him while we could!”
“This must be our Raptor.” Cassius smiled at Ariel. He turned his attention to Bishop. “And you are?”
“Frank Bishop,” Bishop said. “Professional innocent bystander.”
The teeth flashed again. “A civilian.” The man pushed his way through the double doors and onto the platform, pausing only once to be sure he was being followed. “There are no innocent bystanders anymore Mr. Bishop, only victims and those willing to fight back.”
“I’m finding that out.” Bishop stuck the Glock back into the waistband of his jeans.
Cassius pulled a metal rod with a sharply bent end out of his sleeve. “I wouldn’t normally come out here, but it’s the fastest way and the cameras won’t pick us up if we hurry.” He started for the far edge of the platform, away from the direction the train had taken. As he went down the steps to the track he explained that this tunnel was part of the loop that brought customers to the department store.
“The old train’s in this utility tunnel. They just drove it in there and shut it down the day the bankruptcy court took the store. We’ve salvaged some parts, but mostly it’s just good cover.”
“Where are we going?” Bishop asked.
Cassius led them between the old train and the wall of the tunnel until they came to a rusty metal door in the wall. He stuck the end of the metal rod into a hole on one side of the door and moved it completely around in a counter-clockwise rotation, then halfway back in the other direction. The door opened silently on well-greased hinges.
“Down,” Cassius said. “Into the Deeps. I think you’ll find it interesting.”
* * *
Even with night vision goggles Bishop soon lost track of the twists and turns of the brick and stone passages below the subway tunnels. Metal, then stone stairways led down from one level to another. Small animals scurried just beyond the range of Bishop’s vision, and the sound of rushing water came and went as they moved deeper.
Bishop didn’t like the claustrophobic feeling of being underground and was thinking about what might be sneaking up behind them in the dark when they stopped at a rusty iron door at the end of the passage.
The door swung open. Bishop pulled his goggles down around his neck to let his eyes adjust to the light.
“Welcome to the Deeps,” Cassius said. “Let’s go check the security cameras.”
- 3 -
Mouser woke to a jolting ride. The cage he was in hadn’t been tightly strapped to the rings welded to the sides of the car. Every time the train hit a curve the cage swung forward, then slammed back against the wall. Mouser’s head was already throbbing from the Taser and each contact with the wall made him feel like he was being used as a human drumstick. He was careful not to show he was awake. If he opened his eyes slightly he could see the striped legs and polished shoes of Taser-man. He would bet that the ugly little demon was just waiting for an excuse to zap him again.
He had no idea how long he’d been out. He’d been stupid to go back to the surface for his shoes, but he’d traded hours of hacking to get them and next to his computer they were his most prized possession. He’d been bending over in the alley tying his shoe laces when they grabbed him. He’d had no time to shift and instinct told him that it might not be a wise move to show his hand before he knew what
he was up against. If they kept him in a cage with bars like this one, he could be out of it and on his way the minute they left him alone. He was willing to wait for that chance.
Mouser had seen the other kids in their cages as he was being wheeled to the train. They looked like they were in pretty bad shape, especially the girl. Humans didn’t recover from injuries as fast as shifters, that’s why he was sure the demon wouldn’t expect him to be awake this soon. He hoped they were just sleeping off being stunned. Maybe they were drugged. He didn’t want to dwell too long on why they’d been kidnapped. The possibilities were too scary. What if they wanted him for . . .
- 4 -
“. . . organ transplants!” Ariel was saying. “Child porn! Cannibalism! Human sacrifice!” She paced the large room, toenails clicking on the cement floor, black coat swirling with each turn.
“Calm down.” Bishop told her. “Whatever they’re doing they seem to be letting some of them go.”
“One. They let one of them go and she broke someone’s arm and her whole family is afraid of her.”
Cassius looked up from the monitor he’d been examining over the shoulder of a young tech whose spiky orange hair glowed with strange luminosity in the light from the screen. “I don’t think he’s in immediate danger. Whatever Zaki wants these kids for isn’t going to happen overnight. He’s ruthless, but meticulous. He always plays the long game.”
The room was full of salvaged computer equipment. Banks of monitors glowed from all four walls, every type from large consoles the size of old fashioned TVs to high definition flat screens. Each section was under the watchful eye of one or two people.
More computers lined the middle of the room. Some were searching the internet, others showed street scenes, roof tops, interior rooms, offices and tunnels. Cassius motioned them over.
“This is the roof of Hauptmann’s,” He said pointing to the screen. “We disposed of the dead gargoyles and bent the siding back into place. It won’t hold up under close examination, but Zaki’s people hardly ever go up there. Our cameras just happened to see you in the alley and we picked you up again on the roof. Nice work, by the way,” he told Ariel. “And Ez, I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your edge,”
Ez ignored the compliment.
“Where’d you get the demon loads?” he asked Bishop.
“I have friends. Where the hell are we?”
“The control room in the Deeps,” Ariel said. “This is pretty amazing. You can see what’s going on all over the city.”
“Not everywhere,” Cassius admitted. “But we can watch a lot of it.” “We’re wired into the traffic cameras, building security monitors, private alarm systems. Even a TV and GPS satellite. We’re piggybacked right into the grid and we have ultra fast connections. We can go anywhere that has phone, cable, TV, satellite or internet access, and it’s untraceable. The only place we can’t seem to get into is Zaki Industries. He has an impenetrable firewall. My guys have been trying to hack it for months with no luck. It’s like a constantly moving target, almost like his system senses the threat and redesigns itself to meet it.”
“Playback the platform,” he told the tech.
The lights came up and the train entered the station. Several people got off after the doors slid open. Two over-muscled steroid cases who looked like they were on loan from the WWE followed the guy in the white lab coat.
Someone also disembarked from the first car. He was talking over his shoulder as he stepped out onto the platform. When his head turned Bishop could see the man was none other than Nicolai Tesslovich, alive and dressed in one of his usual faultless four thousand dollar suits and a two hundred dollar tie.
Trailing behind him was the ugly little freak in the striped suit holding an object the size of a garage door opener. A flash of current leaped across the top of the device. The little freak gave Tesslovich a nasty smile.
“Always nice to see someone who enjoys his work,” Bishop muttered.
“I killed those guys less than a week ago!” Ariel told Cassius. “Two days later Tesslovich was back in court and now his ugly little knouter is back from the dead.”
“Huh?”
“Obscure historical reference. They were Cossack torturers before the Russian revolution.” Ez explained.
“Can it be used as a verb?” Bishop asked. “I don’t want to be laughed at when I drop it into casual conversation.”
Ariel gave him a dirty look.
He pointed at the monitor. “I’ll bet he’s also the little shit who put a curse on me and left a goat head on my desk. He’s some kind of gypsy demon.”
“Travelers are big on curses,” Cassius said, studying the image. “But they’re rarely demons.”
“He’s still alive after going out a tenth floor window with a demon load in his chest.” Bishop said. “If that’s not demonic, I don’t know what is. And he works for Tesslovich. I saw the green blood when his head went flying across the room.”
“Interesting. Here are the kids.”
The cages came rolling in from off-camera. Mouser’s defiance and its consequence was all the more disturbing without sound. The steroid cases loaded each cage onto the train as everyone reentered their cars. The doors closed and the train accelerated into the tunnel. As it disappeared, the platform lights behind it went out one by one.
“Was Mouser down here?” Ariel asked. “All these cameras and computers and stuff. This would be Mouser heaven. I can’t believe he’d go back topside when he had all this to play with.”
“It never occurred to me he would,” Cassius said. “I would have stopped him, or at least sent someone along to make sure he made it back. I’m very, very sorry and I assure you, we’ll do everything we can to help get him back. At least we know where the tunnel goes.”
“Where?”
“The old Hauptmann estate. Now owned by Yamazaki Kiriyenko and home to Zaki Industries.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Bishop said.
* * *
“Let’s take a look at the maps,” Cassius suggested. “We’ve salvaged, copied or rescued everything we could get our hands on. A lot of them were simply abandoned by the city and left to rot in old store- rooms. We even found a room down here full of hand drawn plans for the lowest tunnels. Once they were built, the engineers just walked away from them.”
They left the computer room and started down the corridor.
Bishop’s jaw dropped. The Deeps was like a whole underground city with light and heat and people moving on foot and in golf carts along what appeared to be a central thoroughfare. The locals were a bit exotic in their clothing choices and their complexions tended toward pale, at least if they were light skinned, but everyone looked well fed and sane, unlike many of the homeless up above. Obviously there were reasons why they’d chosen to live in The Deeps, but maybe they were better off in this strange place underground.
“Where do you get your food?” Ariel asked.
“A variety of places other than dumpsters,” Cassius answered with a wry smile. He removed his scarf and pushed absently at the short, copper colored dreadlocks tumbling around his face.
“We have our own hydroponics garden on the level below this one. It has water, grow lights, and a small park with fruit trees. We encourage everyone down here to spend some time there to keep their vitamin A levels up.”
He led them through a set of double doors. Inside was a huge room filled with floor to ceiling bookcases. A few kids sat at one of the many tables, surrounded by a well-used collection of books and a stack of printouts, furiously taking notes.
“This is the library.” Cassius said. “I think there’s a history exam coming up.”
A small, wizened woman in a long, homespun lavender dress and grey, knitted shawl peered through rimless spectacles at Cassius and his visitors.
“Miranda,” Cassius said by way of introduction, “is our librarian. She helps us keep our books and maps in order.”
He patted an old, oak card catalo
gue. “We have everything in the computer, but this is Miranda’s hard copy, just in case. She knows where everything is anyway. We need the map room, Miranda.”
The small woman removed a large key on a chain from around her neck and silently handed it over, her bright eyes watched as the small group move through the room to a door in the back.
“She’s like Cerberus guarding the gate,” Cassius said as he waved them through into the map room. “Woe to anyone who hurts one of her books.”
“How long has she been here?”
“Six years. One of our scouts found her sleeping on a subway grate practically frozen to death and brought her down. She hasn’t said one word the whole time she’s been with us but I don’t know what we would do without her.”
The map room amazed Bishop even more than the library. Deep shelves, divided into various sized cubicles held hundreds, maybe thousands, of paper tubes with plastic caps on the ends. Each was meticulously labeled. Tall, oak or steel document cases with shallow drawers undoubtedly held more. A huge computer screen hung on one wall, the green light on the outsized key board below it blinking in eager anticipation.
Cassius waved a hand. “These are our maps. It’s still not everything, but we have most of the underworld either in tubes or scanned into the computer.” He tapped a few keys. “Let’s see what we have connecting Hauptmann’s to the outside world.”
The monitor sprang to life. The image that came up was dense with detail; tunnel after tunnel, layer after layer, pipes, conduit, rails, switches, electrical diagrams. It was all too crowded to make sense. Cassius tapped a few more keys and multiple layers peeled away, leaving only one map behind.
Raptor: Urban Fantasy Noir Page 13
