by C M Dancha
"Inspector Milkweed, this is my great grandfather, Easton, I mean, Thomas Jefferson."
Milkweed stood up. He gazed at Rollie, then Easton and back to Rollie again. "Sure, he is. I'll be back in a minute."
Milkweed pulled up in the dead woman's vehicle a couple of minutes later. "Help me get her in."
Rollie and Easton pitched in and helped load agent Maus into the hover vehicle. Milkweed drove the vehicle to a nearby parking space and left it there, unlocked, so anyone could open it and discover the body.
"Are you and President Jefferson going somewhere?"
Rollie had to admit that Milkweed's sarcastic remark was funny, but he didn't give him the satisfaction of laughing at it. Even after being brought back to life, Rollie still didn't care for the cocky Inspector. It might have been the way he’d tried to manipulate Gretchen for information, or his feminine appearance. Whatever the reason, he didn't care for the guy or woman or whatever.
"Yes, we're leaving."
Before Milkweed could ask any questions, another vehicle pulled up. The windows were tinted so the occupants were hidden from view. Milkweed reached for his energy gun in case this was an unwanted guest.
The vehicle doors opened, and Gretchen leaped out and ran to embrace Rollie. Murphy emerged next, favoring his wounded leg and trying to avoid bumping his bandaged arm. From the driver's side of the vehicle, Raul got out and walked toward Milkweed and Rollie. As he rounded the front of the vehicle, he noticed a pool of liquid on the pavement. He bent down and rubbed a sample between his fingers.
"Looks like Murphy and I missed some fun."
"We had a rude guest, Raul. Seems she didn't want Rollie and Mr. Jefferson to leave town. If you want to get a look at her, she's about ten spaces down on the left."
"If she is – I mean, was – an attractive woman in her mid-thirties, I don't have to look. She's been tailing me for several days."
"That's your girl. By the way, Raul, do you know someone named Mr. Todd?"
"Jason, he's a fixer. I'd like to tell you more, but we need to catch a transport. Can I contact you later?"
"Sure, but where are you headed?"
"West, Jason. It's best you don't know the exact location."
"Are you coming back?"
"No, not if I can help it."
"Can I come with you?"
Raul didn't know if Milkweed was joking or serious. He’d never expected the inspector would volunteer to leave a cushy government job and venture off into the unknown.
"Milkweed, you don't know where we’re going, why we’re going and what we plan to do. Why would you want to become a vagabond and drift around with us?"
"There's nothing here for me, Raul. I'm hated within the Medical Examiner's office. I'll never get promoted and I'm sick of dealing with jerk-offs who couldn’t tell the truth if their lives depended on it."
Raul shrugged his shoulders and considered Milkweed's request. Rollie, who’d overheard their conversation tried to break free from Gretchen's embrace long enough to motion to Raul. He was frantically trying to send a ‘turn-down’ signal.
"I guess you can come, Jason. But you're not going to have access to expensive clothing where we're going."
"I'll learn to dress like you, Raul."
"Funny, really funny. Get whatever you need from your vehicle and let's get out of here."
Raul rounded up everyone and led them to terminal thirty-two where he was met by the pilot. He’d assured Raul that the transport wasn't registered and the identification code on the side of the ship was changed after every trip. Phony flight plans were submitted to the authorities before taking off. Once or twice a year, a complete overhaul of the ship's outer and inner appearance was completed. Electronic hardware was also changed regularly, so radiation belt patterns were never identified. It was expensive running a renegade transport, but the profits were a hundred times better than flying a World Council free-flight ship.
"You've got five minutes to load your people, Mr. Hakala. I want to get out of here as the second Air Monitor Squad reports for duty." Raul understood exactly what he was up to. If they could leave exactly at shift change, both squads could blame the other for an undisclosed departure.
Raul and his gang of soon-to-be exiled Patriots boarded and locked down in their seats in record time. Easton's bottles of wine were the bulkiest items brought on board.
The transport made a vertical liftoff, attaining a 700-miles-per-hour cruising speed within five minutes. Their flight pattern took them over the Alps, before turning and chasing the setting sun to the west.
Raul sat back in his chair and sighed in relief. The past two days had been harrowing, yet rewarding. Two firefights, two kidnap rescues, a surprise passenger and the sabotage of the CR47 by cloning a wild animal with a human. Raul hoped the Slice-Maxine clone would damage the CR47 in addition to ridding the world of Sedgewick Slice.
He wondered why Helmer Stanke had decided to stay behind and how Krieger planned to get his clone out of Zurich. Something in his gut told Raul that he would run into these two men again sometime in the future. Before reclining and taking a well-deserved nap, he reviewed the past three days. It was imperative that he hadn't made any errors and that no evidence was left behind identifying them as criminals. Convinced he’d gotten away with all he’d done, he reconsidered whether his ultimate destination was well-cloaked, so finding them would be near impossible.
As he took one last glance at the front of the transport before shutting his eyes, he noticed a middle-aged Asian man who rose from a front seat and headed to the lounge area. He was followed by another man who Raul guessed to be an elderly Latino.
Who the hell were these characters? No one was supposed to be on the transport, other than the pilot and Raul's group. Raul had paid handsomely for a private transport. He headed to the pilot's cabin to raise hell and make plans to kick these two stowaways off his transport.
As he passed the seats where the two strangers had emerged, Raul damn near had a heart attack. Sitting upright in another chair was a full suit of colorful leather and metal body armor.
22
ALLIANCES
"I'm sorry, Mr. Hakala. I tried to reach you… but I either forgot or…" The transport's rogue pilot sighed and decided to be truthful. "Mr. Hakala, my wife and daughter need cloaking devices. Those two guys sell the devices. In fact, the Asian guy is the inventor."
"So, in exchange for free passage on my flight, your family gets the devices. Is that the deal you made?"
"That's pretty much the extent of it. I'm sorry. I know how important it was to keep this flight secret. All I could think of was my family."
"You've put me in a hell of a predicament. I didn't want anyone to know about this transport and its ultimate destination. Now, I've got two witnesses other than yourself to deal with. Can we dump these guys off somewhere?"
"If I land anywhere now, it would draw all kinds of unwanted attention about who we are and where we're going. I can do it but wouldn't recommend stopping if you want to maintain secrecy."
Raul thought for a couple of minutes while he stared out the cockpit window. At this altitude, far above the clouds, the sun was glowing a bright orange on the western horizon. The only noise he heard aboard the transport was the monotone hum of the energy thrusters. It was so peaceful that Raul had already begun to forget the debacle he’d left behind in Zurich.
"Okay, this is what we're going to do. You have a choice. Either land and dump these guys off or refund my fee. In other words, my friends and I get a free flight."
"You have a free flight, Mr. Hakala. Again, I'm sorry. I hope this won't stop you from recommending me to anyone who wants a discreet flight anywhere in the world."
"Don't worry, captain. You're still my number one vendor for unauthorized transports. Besides, I have a feeling you'll be hearing from me again soon. Just don't screw up anymore."
Raul patted the shoulder of the rogue pilot and started to leave the cockpit. "By th
e way, what are these guys' names."
"Date Hattori and Miguel something-or-other."
Raul returned to his seat and dozed off for a couple of hours. He needed the rest physically but also needed to prepare mentally to talk with the two stowaways. There was also the possibility that Milkweed would want to discuss the Zurich murders. He knew Milkweed was antsy to find out who the killer was in each homicide.
His parting thoughts before falling asleep were a premonition to what he found when he awoke. Milkweed was sitting next to him, reading communiques and watching news updates on his headband halo screen as he sipped on an energy drink. With his tailored suit and perfect haircut and facial makeup, he fit the ideal image of a bisexual male model. As Raul's head cleared, he noticed Milkweed's manicured fingernails. He wondered what crimes the average woman would commit to have such beautiful nails and cuticles. His slender, wrinkle-and-vein-free hands would also be the envy of any woman.
"What's up, Jason? How long was I out for?"
"You've been asleep for a couple of hours. Thought this would be a good opportunity for the two of us to compare notes on the Zurich murders. Are you up to it?"
Raul couldn't think of a single reason not to go over each murder and tell Milkweed what he knew.
"Yeah, let's do it. But we should do it in private. Let me turn on the barrier curtain, so no one else can hear us."
Raul activated his barrier curtain, which surrounded the two of them in a shimmering, opaque cocoon. They could speak privately now, without being overheard. The curtain had another huge advantage, in that it prevented each man from audio recording their conversation. It was the real reason Raul had wanted to put up the curtain. It was best to be cautious in case Milkweed was still working for the Medical Examiner's office or another government agency. Without a recording to use as evidence, it would be hard to bring a criminal case against Raul.
"Let's take the easy ones first, Jason. The redhead found in Sophia's apartment was killed by Mr. Todd, the guy I was telling you about at the transport complex. Todd is a fixer and works for whoever can meet his price. I used him once to get Klaus Ekstrom sobered up before he met Sedgewick Slice for the first time. Unfortunately, the redhead was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She went to Sophia's apartment for a visit, or to run an errand or some other reason and ran into Mr. Todd there, who was waiting to kill Sophia. Todd screwed up and set off his explosive charges when Klaus Ekstrom showed up at Sophia's apartment. Bottom line is that Klaus and the redhead stumbled into an assassin's plot by mistake and paid the ultimate price. The real target, Sophia, got away scot free."
"Okay, that sounds reasonable, but who hired Mr. Todd?"
"I'm sure it was Slice. There were a multitude of reasons why he wanted to get rid of Sophia. He knew she was sleeping with two key Phoenvartis executives and he was afraid they would divulge sensitive information to her about ReLife. Through another source, I found out that Sophia was doing exactly that. She was a deep mole, collecting information about ReLife and her goal was to get access to the CR47 cloning device. There were other reasons for Slice hiring Todd, but that was the main one."
Raul's lie about Slice hiring Todd was so well established in his mind, it rolled out of his mouth without hesitation and with complete conviction. It was an easy lie to tell. All he had to do was substitute Slice's name for his own and let all the other facts of the case stand on their own merit.
Milkweed nodded as though he accepted Raul's explanations entirely. "Okay, I'll buy that."
Raul continued with his analysis of the Zurich murders.
"This brings us to the murder of Klaus Ekstrom. Once again, it was Slice. Sedgewick had the perfect motive for killing Klaus."
"Which was?"
"He needed to find the missing host samples from the World Council. His career depended on finding those samples. He knew that it was either Klaus or Rollie who stole the samples. So, he visited Klaus in the hospital and tortured him for every bit of information he knew. Klaus was more dead than alive, so Slice had no problem finishing him off after he got the information he needed. Also, when I met with Slice, he inadvertently told me that he’d killed Klaus."
"What's this about missing World Council host samples? I don't have any idea what you're talking about."
"Sorry, Jason. I thought you already knew about that. Basically, the World Council sent host samples to Klaus to be cloned. Klaus gave them to Rollie who hid them and substituted his own samples. Easton, over there, is the result of Rollie's host samples. If you believe Rollie, Easton is his great grandfather, Thomas Jefferson. Anyhow, I gave the World Council samples to Claude Ekstrom before we left Zurich. It was part of a deal I made with Claude."
"Are you making this up? This sounds like a fantasy story."
"Jason, I swear to god this is what happened."
"Then, why didn't you give the World Council samples to Slice?"
"Slice is no more, Jason. He's history. You should be hearing about his demise in the next day or two."
"Are you shitting me? Slice is dead? "
"I'm telling you the truth."
"Holy crap. Man, I'm not sure I would have asked to come along if I knew that. Do you realize that the World Council will hunt you down to revenge Slice's death?"
"They might, but I'm guessing they’ll be elated to have their host samples back and not care about Slice. I have a feeling that Slice was a pain in their collective ass, just like he was a pain in our ass. Time will tell. There's not much I can do about it now, other than making sure everyone is cautious and alert to everything going on in their new lives."
"Raul, I give you credit for getting rid of that jerk-off Slice, but… I don't have a good feeling about this. Anyway, let's move on. What about that woman scientist, Calderon Weeks?"
"That's an interesting case, Jason. I know who killed her, but I can't tell you who it is."
"Why not? What difference could it make now that we've left Zurich?"
"This is going to sound stupid, Jason, but I can't tell you why I can't tell you. In other words, revealing the murderer's identity or clues about his identity would jeopardize this flight. Every one of us, including you, would be put in unnecessary danger."
"I don't understand, but it’s obvious you aren't going to budge on this. What about Rollie Sweat's murder? It sounds strange asking who killed the guy sitting across the aisle from me."
"That one I can't help you with, yet. I have no idea who killed Rollie. I'm hoping he will remember and tell me who and why. It could be any number of people. My first choice would be Slice only because he was pissed at Rollie for taking the World Council host samples. But I can think of some good reasons why it couldn’t have been Slice. Bottom line is, I don't know."
"This has been very enlightening. You got farther than I did in pinpointing the murderers. But I must say that I had Slice involved or responsible for at least a couple of the murders. If I had known about the missing World Council host samples, I might have been able to solve a case or two."
"It's better that you didn't, Jason. Everything has turned out just as I planned. We're all still alive and Slice isn't. Yeah, we have uncertain futures, but we'll manage somehow. Right now I've got another thing to deal with so I'll talk to you later."
Raul turned off the curtain barrier and headed to the front of the transport, to speak with the stowaways.
Milkweed took everything Raul said and twisted and turned it in his mind. He ran every sentence through the deductive reasoning formula in his head. By the time he’d lost sight of Raul ducking into a front aisle, he concluded that the man was not only withholding information but painting some things he’d said with the brush of half-truths and outright lies. He couldn't shake the thought that Raul seemed like a better suspect in at least one murder than the person Raul blamed.
Raul believed his heart-to-heart talk with Milkweed had gone well. The former Inspector seemed to have accepted each of his theories about the who and why of each murder.
He’d also avoided telling Milkweed how Slice was killed, or about the Black Cross clone.
Raul flipped his micromic to language translation mode and said, "Gentlemen, do you mind if I join you?"
The two men looked at him and adjusted their own micromics to translate his greeting.
The Asian man responded by respectfully bowing to Raul. "We would be honored, sir. My name is Date Hattori, and this is my friend, Miguel. Please have a seat." He found it interesting that the European didn't bother to introduce himself.
Raul pointed at the suit of armor and said. "Does this guy have a name?"
Date understood the dry humor in Raul's question and smiled. He had dealt with enough Europeans to know their witty sarcasm. "No name, sir. But over 500 years ago, this armor belonged to a very famous Samurai warrior by the name of Miyamoto Musashi. My passion in life is collecting ancient Samurai armament and relics."
"If you don't mind me asking, where does one find a suit of armor like this?"
"Those which remain are spread across the globe. This armor was on display in a government museum in Belgrade. I have no idea how it got there, so far from its native land of old Japan."
Raul was about ready to ask how Date could have gotten the armor out of a government museum but thought it better not to put the collector on the defensive. Besides, it was obvious that he was dealing with two guys who didn't follow government rules. They also had enough credits to grease the palms of government officials to get the things they wanted.
"The reason I'm talking to you is to ask a favor. I'm not sure how to say this, so I'll be blunt. This transport was reserved for my group alone. It seems that the pilot put his personal desires above my contract with him. He should never have allowed you on this transport without my permission."
Date was surprised, but now he understood why the pilot had been behaving so antsy before takeoff. Date understood the situation, but was more concerned about the consequences.
