The Sin Keeper

by Gary Winston Brown

  The fatally wounded Pyramid let out a dying breath in the form of a thunderous boom! then succumbed to its injuries. The two agents raced for the safety of the service entrance’s reinforced archway. Structural steel supports fell from the ceiling, clanging on the ground behind them. Panels of the Pyramid’s aluminum walls ripped apart, soared through the air, and smashed into the metal bleachers like a symphony of cymbal crashes. Industrial diffuser lights mounted high up in the ceiling exploded and rained white-hot metal and glass down upon the agents.

  The once impressive sports facility had collapsed and lay in ruins atop the crushed metal bleachers. The air, redolent with the smell of burning electrical wires, crackled, hissed and smoked beneath the wreckage. Thick black smoke snaked through the debris, found the surface, struck out and coiled skyward. Clouds of dust floated up from the ground, stirred by the arrival of an ocean breeze. The orange hue of the setting sun provided light.

  Under the twisted wreckage of the fallen structure lay Dr. Jason Merrick, Commander Ben Egan and Ashley Granger.

  Jordan coughed, brushed away the dust and smoke, and looked for Chris. She found him a few feet away, partly covered by a sheet of the aluminum ceiling. He was unconscious. Blood poured freely from a gash in his forehead.

  “Chris!” Jordan pushed away the fallen debris, scrambled to her partner and examined his wound. He would need stitches, but the injury was not life-threatening. She lifted his head and applied pressure to the gash. He began to come around.

  “You okay?” Jordan asked.

  Chris opened his eyes.

  “Thank God,” Jordan said. “I thought you were dead.”

  He groaned. “You run like a girl, you know that?”

  “That’s probably because I am a girl.”

  Chris nodded, touched his forehead, winced. “Next time we’re trapped in a building with a couple of psychopaths and the place starts to fall apart, do me a huge favor?”

  “What?”

  “Wear running shoes. Those heels aren’t cutting it.”

  Jordan smiled. “You know I can outrun you on my worst day, Hanover. Heels or not.”

  Chris tried to push himself up, felt lightheaded, lay back down. “Fat chance. I pushed your ass out of the way - you fell - and I became a ceiling sandwich. That’s how it went down.”

  “Pardon me,” Jordan replied. “You did not push my ass out of the way. I had three easy strides on you.”

  “Doesn’t matter. That’s how my report’s going to read: ‘Building falling, ran for cover, Agent Quest’s ass in the way, pushed it - I mean, her - to safety, injured by falling debris, saved the day.’”

  “You’re a real American hero, Hanover.”

  “I prefer superhero.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “I think I deserve a parade.”

  “Now you’re hallucinating.”

  “No doubt… the result of my near-critical injury,” Chris said. He touched to his forehead.

  “Oh, so now it’s critical.”

  “Which I sustained in the line of duty...”

  “Apparently.”

  Chris smiled. “… while pushing your ass out of the way.”

  Jordan shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Admit it. You love it.”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  Chris sat up. The pressure Jordan had applied to his wound had worked. The bleeding had stopped. A mountain of rubble occupied the center of the Pyramid.

  “Merrick and Egan,” he asked, “They’re dead?”

  “They just had a building fall on top of them,” Jordan replied. “What do you think?”

  She helped Chris to his feet.

  The agents looked around them. The entire facility had fallen. In the dusty haze, DARPA commandos and FBI HRT teams slowly began making their way toward the middle of the fallen Pyramid, ground zero of the destruction.

  Suddenly, there was movement. A blue light began to throb beneath the debris.

  “God, no!” Jordan said.

  Channeler had been activated.

  CHAPTER 55

  WHEN THE building fell, Egan tried unsuccessfully to protect his handler from the cascade of metal that had been the Pyramid. Trapped beneath the wreckage, Jason Merrick struggled to move his body, then became acutely aware of the reason for his immobility. He was anchored to the floor, his legs impaled by mangled tentacles of reinforcing steel bars. His effort to scream met with little more than a whisper: “My legs!”

  In his attempt to control of Granger, Egan had turned his attention away from the energy vortex. The field, which had shielded them from the falling debris, had collapsed. Panels of serrated metal and steel beams were piled high around them.

  “Dr. Merrick!” Egan yelled. He slid across the floor and began prying the steel rods out of Merrick’s legs. Merrick screamed in agony.

  Egan cradled the scientist in his arms, then rose to his feet. “I’m getting you out of here,” he said.

  Merrick’s head lolled to one side. Ashley Granger’s lifeless eyes stared up at him from the rubble. She had been decapitated, her head the only part of her crushed body recognizable beneath the mass of concrete, steel and broken glass.

  Merrick drifted in and out of consciousness. “Stay with me, doc,” Egan yelled. “You hear me? Stay with me!”

  A familiar voice spoke to Merrick, soft, gentle and comforting: It’s all right, Jason, the woman said. Everything is going to be fine.

  Merrick spoke. “Alma?”

  Voices rose outside the wall of twisted debris. The assault team was coming.

  Merrick touched Egan’s arm. “Put me down,” he said.

  The metal band on the Commander’s wrist glowed bright blue.

  “I can hold them off as long as I need to,” Egan said.

  Merrick shook his head. “No.”

  “Don’t worry, Dr. Merrick. I’ve got you.”

  “Put me down.”

  “But…”

  “Please, Commander.”

  Egan hesitated. He could still protect them. He could summon a tremendous burst of energy and send it across the entire campus, killing every soldier, FBI agent and SWAT cop around them, decimating the place and every other building around it for miles.

  Merrick spoke, his voice weak. “There’s one last assignment you must complete.”

  His words brought Egan back to reality. He dropped to the ground and lay Merrick on the floor.

  “There is a metal tube in my pocket,” Merrick said. “Take it out.”

  Egan opened Merrick’s jacket and retrieved the cigar-shaped cylinder.

  “Open it.”

  Egan unscrewed the end cap, dropped it on the ground.

  “Take it out… slowly.”

  Egan turned the tube on its side. The thumb press of a syringe slid into his hand. He removed the injection device from the tube.

  “It’s the second phase of GENESIS,” Merrick whispered, “the LEEDA project. You’re ready, Commander. You’ve earned it.”

  Egan examined the injection device in the pale light. A rose-colored liquid fluoresced within its clear barrel. The syringe vibrated against the palm of his hand.

  “Inject yourself,” Merrick said, “Your thigh.”

  From outside the walls of their self-made tomb, loud voices accompanied the sound of chunks of concrete and sheets of metal being thrown across the floor. They were coming for them, getting closer.

  Egan inverted the needle and watched as a tiny air bubble drifted to the surface of the strange liquid. He removed the needle’s protective plastic sheath and tossed it aside. Holding the syringe firmly in his hand, he pressed the plunger and freed the trapped air. A single drop of the precious solution rested atop the bevel of the primed needle. He placed the tip of the syringe against his pant leg.

  Merrick watched as he prepared the injection. “You should feel a rush at first,” the scientist said. His breathing had become more difficult, labor
ed. “That will be adrenaline,” he continued. “It will be followed by a brief sensation of euphoria. Are you ready?”

  Egan nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.”

  Merrick closed his eyes, concentrated, connected with Egan’s brain neural interface, and sent the operative his final assignment.

  Egan acknowledged the download. “I understand.”

  Merrick winced as a wave of pain hammered his chest. “After the injection there will be no turning back. Know that your body will follow your mind, Commander. Do you understand this?”

  Egan nodded.

  “Good,” Merrick said. “This will be your final assignment. When it has been completed I want you to start a new life. LEEDA is my gift to you. You will become wholly-integrated; the human embodiment of a lifetime of my research, all that I have worked for. I can’t think of anyone more deserving.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Remember the importance of what I said, Commander. Your body will follow your mind.”

  Commotion outside the twisted metal walls.

  Mere feet away now.

  Egan jammed the needle deep into his thigh, pushed down on the plunger, and injected himself. He fell on his side, his body shocked into submission by the rush of the LEEDA formula as it coursed through his bloodstream. Within seconds the primary effect of the injection subsided. The secondary wave spread through his body and brought with it a feeling of mental strength, power and exhilaration unlike anything he had ever experienced before in his life.

  Channeler unlocked from his wrist.

  The device fell to the floor.

  “It’s done,” Merrick said. “The transition is complete. Now concentrate. Follow the target. Finish the assignment. Go where LEEDA takes you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Inside the metal fortress, a rose-red light glittered and encompassed Egan.

  Merrick smiled. “Goodbye, Commander,” he said.

  The walls fell.

  The scientist felt a crushing pain in his chest, took his last breath, and closed his eyes.

  The DARPA commandos pushed aside the last of the debris. “Hands!” they yelled. “Show me your hands!”

  Merrick offered no response. Commander Aikens knelt down and checked his pulse. Hallier stood beside him. He shook his head. “He’s gone, Colonel.”

  “Secure the body immediately,” Hallier ordered. “Get it back to Los Alamitos. Keep a guard on it.”

  “Yes, sir,” Aikens replied. He motioned to the corpse of Ashley Granger. “And the woman?”

  “Not our concern. Leave her for the coroner.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Hallier looked down. The Challenger device lay at his feet. Beside the metallic band lay a spent syringe and metal tube, marked LEEDA. The Colonel pocketed the items. “Jesus,” he muttered.

  Hallier warned Commander Aikens. “No one but DARPA gets near this body, understand? Secure it for transport.”

  “Copy that, Colonel.”

  “Good,” Hallier said. He turned to leave.

  Aikens stared at Merrick’s body and Grangers mutilated corpse. “Colonel?”

  Hallier stopped. “What is it?”

  “Where the hell is Egan?”

  Hallier walked back. “Listen carefully. No questions. Maintain your post. Under no circumstances does that body leave your sight. Can manger that?”

  Aikens soldiered up. “Yes, sir.”

  Hallier walked away from the dead man and placed a call to his superior at DARPA.

  “This is Ford.”

  “It’s Hallier, Brigadier General.”

  “Situation report.”

  “Merrick is dead, sir. Egan is gone.”

  “What do you mean… gone?”

  “Precisely that, sir. We were too late. LEEDA is active.”

  CHAPTER 56

  JORDAN, CHRIS and Assistant Director Ridgeway found Ashley Granger’s decapitated corpse in the debris pile, then watched as DARPA commandos transferred Merrick’s body into a field transport bag and zipped it shut.

  Ridgeway presented her credentials to the Special Operations team leader. “Open it up,” Ridgeway said. “I want to see who was responsible for this.”

  The soldier shook his head. “Sorry ma’am,” he said, “no can do.” The commando motioned to his men. They stepped forward, lifted the body bag and prepared to leave.

  “Where’s the second body?” Ridgeway asked.

  “Ma’am?”

  “Soldier, you know as well as I do that there were two men standing here, not just one,” Ridgeway said. “So I’ll ask you again. Where’s the second body?”

  The commando ignored the Assistant Director and addressed his men: “Transfer the package to Los Alamitos. Full protection detail.” He turned to leave. Chris blocked his way.

  “Sir, you need to step aside,” the DARPA commando said.

  Hanover ignored the warning. “The lady asked you to open the bag.”

  The commando waved his men on. “I’ll catch up,” he said. He turned to Chris. “First things first. I’ll take back that weapon.”

  Hanover handed him the Thermite grenade launcher. The soldier pointed to the gash on Chris’ forehead. “That looks painful.”

  “Nasty shaving accident,” Chris said. “I’ve had worse.”

  “Not from me,” the soldier said. “But the nights still young.”

  Chris stepped closer. “Don’t let me stop you from trying.”

  Ridgeway spoke. “That will be enough, Agent Hanover.”

  Chris held the soldier’s stare.

  “Agent Hanover,” Ridgeway said, “Stand down.”

  Chris slowly stepped aside. The soldier nudged his shoulder as he walked past, glanced at Ridgeway, then whispered in his ear. “Have your mommy put a Band-Aid on your boo-boo,” he said. “If you ask real nice maybe she’ll kiss it for you too. Make you feel all better.”

  “The offer’s still open,” Chris replied. “Anytime, anywhere.”

  The agents watched the DARPA commandos leave the crumbled Pyramid carrying Merrick’s body.

  Jordan looked at her partner then shook her head. “Really?” she said. “Of all the guys in the world to pick a fight with you want to tangle with that guy?”

  “He doesn’t look so tough.”

  “He’s trained to kill.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “Chris, the man has forgotten more about self-defence than you’ll ever know.”

  “I’ve learned a few moves over the years, you know.”

  “News flash,” Jordan said. “Watching Ultimate Fighting on pay-per-view with a beer in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other does not qualify as expert instruction.”

  Ridgeway interrupted. “Are you two just about done?”

  Jordan said nothing.

  Chris smirked. “She started it.”

  “Very mature, Agent Hanover,” ADC Ridgeway replied.

  “Sorry, ma’am. Yes, we’re good.”

  “All right. It looks like we’re wrapped up here. I’ll liaise with Colonel Hallier later. In the meantime, have another look around the scene. Grab whatever evidence you can find.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jordan answered.

  “And meet me in my office tomorrow afternoon for debriefing. After all the craziness that’s gone on here today it might be wise if we collaborate our reports on this one.”

  “We’ll be there,” Chris said.

  Jordan knelt down and inspected the area where the commandos had recovered Merrick’s body. A few yards away, a Los Angeles city coroner tended to the body of a dead FBI SWAT agent.

  “That could have been you or me,” Jordan said.

  “Yeah, I know,” Chris replied.

  Blood-soaked steel rods lay on the ground where Merrick’s body had been retrieved. Beneath one of the metal shafts lay a small plastic object.

  “Got a glove on you?” Jordan asked.

  Chris fished a latex medical glove ou
t of his jacket pocket.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. I always make it a point to carry protection.”

  Jordan rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you do.”

  “Find something?”

  “Maybe.” Jordan slipped her hand into the glove. “I don’t suppose you have a pair of tweezers with you as well?”

  “Sorry. I’m all out of medical supplies. Try this.” Chris removed a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket. He folded it lengthwise twice, then again in half. “Presto! Tweezers.”

  “That should work.”

  “I’m gonna need it back when you’re finished with it.”

  “The glove?”

  “The twenty.”

  Jordan smiled. She picked up the item.

  “What did you find?” Chris asked.

  “Looks like a needle sheath.”

  Chris winced. “I hate needles... suture needles, in particular.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Very funny. I’ve been stitched up too many times to count. Take it from me, needles were designed with a singular purpose in mind: to inflict as much torture on human beings as possible.”

  “Then it’s probably a good thing you didn’t take on Mr. DARPA back there. It would have been suture city for you.”

  “Ha-ha,” Chris said. He watched Jordan extricate the item from beneath the bloody steel rod. He continued. “It was the Egyptians who first came up with the idea of suturing, you know. They made needles out of bone and used a rough cord to close the incisions.”

  “You’re a wealth of knowledge, Hanover,” Jordan replied. “Let me guess. National Geographic Channel?”

  Chris ignored the barb. “They used them in the process of preparing a body for mummification.”

  “Thank you, Tutankhamen,” Jordan said. “I feel so much more informed. Got an evidence bag handy?”

  “Hang on. I’ll grab one from the Coroner.”

  Jordan held the plastic sleeve up to the light and rolled it between her fingertips. Trace material from the contents of the syringe sparkled inside the cover. Suddenly the sleeve began to vibrate. “What the hell?” she said.

  Chris returned holding a small evidence bag. “Will this do?”

  “Perfect,” Jordan said.

  He opened the mouth of the bag. “Drop it in.”