Judge, Jury, & Executioner Boxed Set

by Craig Martelle

  “You’re kidding? We’re going to keep running until we catch him. He’s vulnerable at this time, and we’re going to take advantage. Put on your big-boy pants. We have work to do.” Rivka didn’t wait. She walked quickly to the van, nodding to the driver as she shut the side door. Harpeth worked his way into the front seat and announced the address. The law enforcement hover-van lifted into the air and sped away.

  Ankh continued to sleep. Red played with his railgun.

  “You got to fire it today, so you should be happy.”

  “I shot up a package filled with bistok bacon.”

  “How do you know what was in there?” Rivka wondered.

  “I’m making stuff up. It’s better than Crenellian underpants, which probably look like little kid superhero shorts.”

  Rivka snorted, happy that Ankh hadn’t heard. Jay tried to give him a dirty look, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

  “Onward and upward,” Rivka stated. “We’re going to check the Shnobmeister’s house to see what he took with him.”

  Rivka put down her datapad and started conversing with Chaz. “Let’s put him on his heels. We need to enlist the aid of one hundred thousand pairs of eyes. Chaz, plaster his image on every video screen and personal media device in the city. This is a crimson alert for a terrorist on the loose. We are getting closer, which means he becomes more and more like a trapped animal. The big question is, will he sacrifice his life for his cause? If not, then he’ll be easier to catch. And once we have him, what are you going to do, Supra Harpeth?”

  The supra contorted himself in the front seat to look into the back of the van. He locked eyes with the Magistrate. “We’re going to do whatever you agree to. If you want to retain jurisdiction, then so be it. If you want to hand him over to us, we’ll have to figure out how to blow him up, assuming the evidence supports his guilt.”

  “He came after me and my friends. I will confirm what I know, I will judge him, and then I will mete out Justice.” Rivka looked back at her datapad. “Broadcast the city-wide search, Chaz. Let’s make him crawl into a hole. Supra, have your people ready to respond. I think we’re done with the Forum. Extra effort there gains us nothing.”

  “Roger that, Magistrate.” Harpeth used his communication equipment to issue orders to a broad range of law enforcement personnel. When he closed out the last call, he looked satisfied. “Maybe we will get some sleep tonight.”

  “Maybe,” Rivka said, not as confidently as Harpeth.

  Bindola Shnobhauer lived an austere life. His apartment in an upscale neighborhood lacked decoration. The suspect had gone on the run with whatever he could grab. It was up to Rivka to discover what that was, and how far it could take him.

  Red hovered over her as she searched. “Watch out for traps. Maybe you could let me do this?”

  “And let you dig in with those meat mallets you call fingers?”

  “I’m naturally endowed.”

  Lindy snickered from the doorway.

  “I don’t think the Shnob-meister is the trap guy. He blows stuff up, which makes me wonder…where’s his bomb factory? It isn’t here and was probably never here. Where’s his vehicle?”

  “Harpeth?” Rivka called. “Is his vehicle included in the city-wide search?”

  “He didn’t have a vehicle; nothing that we can find, anyway. We’re talking with the neighbors to get a description of how he came and went, and especially how he left earlier today.”

  Rivka thanked him for staying ahead of the investigation, and he went back outside to continue his coordination of the information collection and manhunt.

  The Magistrate dug through the dresser and closet trying to figure out what clothes had been taken. A square mark indented into the closet’s carpet suggested that a rather large suitcase had been there. She held her hands out to gauge the size. “What do you think he put in here?” she asked.

  Red shook his head. “That would hold the whole dresser’s worth of clothes, and since the dresser is mostly full, my guess is that it wasn’t clothes. Maybe his bomb factory?”

  Rivka called for the forensics specialist to sample residue on the floor and wall around where the suitcase had been. If there were any explosives, that was where they would find them. The dining table had already been wiped for trace evidence. Fingerprints on the entry pad and inside the apartment told them that only Bindola had been there.

  No visitors.

  Rivka put her hands behind her back and started pacing. “A lone bomber. That fits the profile, but he wasn’t alone. He was influential enough to convince the shooter to take up his cause, which resulted in the commission of a capital crime. That’s pretty significant. So where did this happen? Online in a secret forum somewhere? Ankh and Erasmus would have found that. Where else? Is there a secret anti-alien society?”

  She stared at the floor as she tried to find the question that might lead her to the next breadcrumb.

  “Whenever I hear someone talk about a secret society,” Red started. He didn’t finish the thought.

  “What?”

  “It’s bullshit. Everyone lies, and there’s a second part to that. No one can keep a secret. Secret societies would be the cool thing to be a part of, but only if people know.”

  Rivka puffed out her cheeks and sucked them back in as she contemplated what Red had said. “Then where did he meet his partner in crime? And the big question is, how many more are in on it? The pro-alien sentiment here isn’t what the government wants you to believe.”

  Lindy stepped in. “How big is the anti-alien underground? Harpeth has to know. He’s too smart to be blind to it. The movement may have grown quickly, but that’s also its weakness. To grow, there has to be a fertile field and a way to share the seeds.”

  “I’m surrounded by the best people.” Rivka smiled at her bodyguards, who were becoming far more than simple security. They’d always been more, but now they were starting to shine brightly.

  Her burden of having to see all and know all was getting lighter.

  “It is surprising,” Lindy continued, “what people say when they’re eating and especially drinking. I don’t know if they think their server is invisible or if they’re trying to impress the server with their deep thoughts, but it happens. If we can find out where he ate, we’ll be able to get insight from the workers. They will know something.”

  “The kitchen suggests he wasn’t a big eat-at-home kind of guy. Supra!” Rivka shouted on her way outside. Red and Lindy hurried to catch up and take flanking positions. When Harpeth popped his head out of the van, his hand over his comm device, Rivka continued, “We want to know where Shnobhauer ate. His financial records may provide some insight, but however you can get the information, we need it. There are people we need to talk to.”

  The station was a bustle of activity. Everyone was doing something, and Supra Harpeth was pulling his hair out. Without the guvna flying top cover, he had to field requests from both above and below him in the chain of command. He was wearing down quickly.

  Rivka felt sorry for him, but she had a killer to catch.

  After the broadcast went out, the tips started pouring in. The station was inundated.

  Harpeth helped himself to another cup of coffee, offering some to Rivka and her team. Inside the law enforcement building, with the new deference paid to the Magistrate, Red and Lindy were still on the job of keeping Rivka safe, but they were able to relax. They both accepted large mugs of steaming java.

  Lindy had carried the sleeping Crenellian from the van and put him on the supra’s couch. Jay was folded over next to him, also out cold.

  Rivka accessed her datapad, and it vibrated. She tapped it, and a familiar voice spoke.

  “I have some information for you,” Erasmus said.

  “You can work while Ankh sleeps? Why didn’t I know this?”

  “I don’t know why you wouldn’t know. Ankh doesn’t sleep very often or for very long. I always work. I’m an AI. I don’t need sleep.”

&n
bsp; “But you’re in his head. Never mind. I appreciate you jumping in to help us.”

  “It is impossible to tell if the suspect knows that the links from the servers have tracers. The programs are extremely sophisticated. My ego wants to tell me that he’ll never find them, but reality dictates that I have to consider the possibility. There are pulls on alien schedules. The Ixtali, the triumvirate of representatives from the Alaxar Trinary, the Yollins, and the planted agenda for the Crenellian ambassador.”

  The revelation reinforced what Rivka had expected. The bomber would rise to the challenge.

  “Send those itineraries to my pad. Is there anything else you can tell us, like where he ate, or if he rented a vehicle?”

  “We’ve sent his image to every rental and leasing agent in the city. No one has replied.”

  “I suspect that he has dozens of fake profiles. He didn’t expect to get caught, but he planned for it, just like he planned for everything else. How is he two steps ahead of everything we do?”

  “He could have help, like an AI.” Erasmus’ voice lingered. Rivka was the first to make a sound when she blew out the breath she’d been holding. “Can we get in front of an AI?”

  Erasmus laughed. “Not all AIs are created equal, Magistrate. I will allocate a part of my processes to this question. We will get in front of this individual, whether he has an AI and an army of accomplices or not.”

  “I like your attitude, Erasmus. Stay in touch. I wondered how long we’d be without Ankh. Now is a critical time in the chase. This is when he would be most prone to making a mistake. At least he’s in the open, especially if he is continuing to target alien diplomats. Is he trying to foment a revolution?” Rivka shook her head as she started to pace. “Remember the shooter’s final words? Collum Gate had lost its way, but now the people have a chance for redemption, free from external influence.”

  Harpeth started to raise his hand as if requesting permission to speak. Rivka tipped her chin toward him.

  “With his position at the Collum Daily, he could have planted a headline story that hits all the outlets declaring who knows what. Maybe their goal was nothing less than a civil war, trying to unite the people against the aliens.”

  “Erasmus?” Rivka requested.

  “I am looking through the Daily’s servers now for pre-loaded stories. There is nothing in the queue, but he could have stored it off-site, like at the server farm. I’m running a worm to look for a time-activated program.”

  “Maybe we can just shut down the Daily in entirety. Cut all the feeds,” Harpeth suggested.

  “That might be exactly what he wants. That would be almost as telling as getting an official story that was misleading.”

  “If there are any new personals or new ads that are scheduled to start, replace all of them. We don’t need him hiding his message in plain sight, either,” Rivka directed.

  After a few moments, Erasmus spoke. “That’s done. I’ve also found a series of articles that were scheduled to run. One already has. I’ve removed it, and all references to it. Here it is for your review. At the bottom, you’ll scroll into the other articles with the timestamps of when they were programmed to promulgate.”

  The first message was short, barely a paragraph, but it planted the seed for the stories that followed. Rivka read it out loud.

  “Breaking News! A threat against the general population has been made. Law enforcement authorities have confirmed that it came from the alien sector, implying a purge of the human blight. The purveyor of the message remains on the loose and Collum Daily’s sources suggest the alien is under diplomatic immunity. We will share more when we know more.”

  “That won’t incite the public,” Supra Harpeth stated, sarcasm dripping from his words.

  “I’ve already removed the article from the Breaking News feed. It is being buried to obscurity. The follow-up articles have all been quarantined.”

  “As soon as he realizes the other articles aren’t being shown, he’ll do one of two things: go to ground, as in disappear, or come out swinging like there’s no tomorrow, because in his world, there won’t be. What do you think?”

  “I hope he mans up so I can punch his face and then toss his limp body to you for judgment,” Red proclaimed. Lindy nodded in agreement.

  “I think he will explode whatever bombs he has planted. Go out with a bang, and then go underground to drive the revolution manually,” Erasmus offered.

  “There won’t be any revolution. No civil war, no war against aliens. We need to find this guy and put him down.”

  The supra’s face turned hard. He was worn out from riding the day’s emotional wave, and the real Harpeth was showing through. He had no patience for criminals. He didn’t care whether they were aliens or humans, only that no one made trouble.

  Rivka could sympathize. That was all she wanted, too.

  “We’d better put together our response teams. Which target do we want him to go after?” Rivka asked.

  “From a tactical standpoint, the Yollin compound is the most secure. The Ixtalis are self-contained. The Alaxar Trinary is what we call a soft target. Their compound is an open garden where people can commune with nature. And you know what the Crenellians have.”

  “They’re the only ones outside an alien zone. That’s where he’ll go,” Rivka declared. “We’ve already been there. He’ll hope that we’ve designated it secure and moved on. He failed to destroy it once. Maybe that is the challenge to his manhood I had hoped for. And the Crenellians are assholes.”

  Rivka turned and found Ankh sitting up and staring at her.

  Jay glared through sleepy eyes.

  “I meant those assholes, not you,” Rivka clarified. Ankh’s expression didn’t change. “Supra Harpeth, bring your people together. I need to brief them on what’s happening next.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Thirty uniformed officers crowded a briefing room that was designed to comfortably handle a dozen. Red and Lindy stood outside the door to make more room. Ankh stood next to Rivka and was driving the video display.

  “Listen up!” Harpeth bellowed. The room quieted. “The Magistrate is going to brief you on tonight’s operation.”

  A simple introduction, but it was all Rivka needed. She nodded and tried to speak from her diaphragm to project her voice over the crowd. The first image Ankh showed was of the short message, the one Shnobhauer had planted.

  “That was how it all started, but it wasn’t really. It started a long time ago when a small group of people looked at the alien diplomats as the root cause of all the problems on Collum Gate. I exaggerate, but that is what the evidence seems to point to. At least two individuals were involved in this conspiracy and the murders that resulted from it. We have information that suggests he may attempt to bomb one or more of the following places.”

  Ankh dutifully showed pictures of the three embassies and Crenellations, Inc.

  “My gut tells me that he’ll go after the Crenellians again. He was stymied once, and I believe that his ego demands a rematch.”

  A few of the officers nodded. Others just took in the information. Most wore the blank expression of someone who had worked too many hours in a day.

  Rivka needed their engagement. “Supra, please show them where they’ll set up.”

  Ankh dutifully brought up diagrams of the buildings and the surrounding areas. Harpeth went through them one by one, designating teams of two and where they would be positioned. He kept five teams in reserve.

  A specialist broke into the meeting and rushed to the front. She handed the supra a tablet and waited while he read it. When he was finished, she took it and left the room. Rivka looked at him expectantly.

  When he finally decided to speak, it was in a low voice. “Shnobhauer has been spotted. My compliments to the Magistrate on making a positive impression on Crenellation, Inc’s neighbors. Someone reported seeing our suspect—right before the Crenellians let him into their building.”

  Supra Harpeth put a h
and on Ankh’s shoulder and mumbled an apology. Ankh looked at the offending hand until the supra removed it.

  “How can we get inside Crenellations, Inc?” Rivka asked.

  “You can’t. They have to let you in.”

  “Ankh! Did you say we can’t?”

  “Let me correct my statement. Crenellations, Inc is a fortress. It will be problematic to breach the defenses.”

  “What defenses?”

  “Spring guns, lethal radiation barriers, gas clouds, and more auto-targeted weaponry.”

  “They didn’t get approval for any of that!” Harpeth blurted.

  “You can charge them if they survive.” Rivka bent down to Ankh’s level. “Is the Crenellian ambassador ready to make an appearance?”

  “What could I do by getting inside?”

  “What could we do, you mean?” Rivka pointed to herself. “You must have your bodyguard with you.”

  “No!” Red roared from the doorway. “Let me go. I look like a bodyguard. You look like the Magistrate.”

  Someone snickered.

  Rivka wrestled with the decision. Red wasn’t wrong, as was often the case.

  “Ankh?”

  “They will have physical barriers and technology to jam any signals into or out of the building,” Ankh said in his usual emotionless voice.

  “Well then, you and Red are going to have your work cut out for you. Bring him down and stop the attack. But you have to capture him alive because I need to talk to him.”

  “I don’t think they’ll let Vered in,” Ankh said softly.

  “You go in together or not at all.”

  “What’s the contingency plan, Magistrate?” Harpeth asked.

  “We go in heavy. Explosives and railguns to breach the front door. We go in straight. The building is a fortress, right? Let’s use that to not kill the hostages. I’m assuming there are hostages. What else would he be doing in there?”

  Ankh’s normally emotionless veneer slipped.

  “He may be brokering a deal for more weapons.”

  “What the hell would the Crenellians do that for? They have to know we’re looking for this guy!” Rivka’s fists were jammed into her sides. She wasn’t angry at Ankh. They had called him a traitor—the people who might be selling arms to a terrorist.