Chapter 9 – Not So Safe House
The cab landed in a rundown section of the industrial district. Ross hadn’t taken any great pains to see that they weren’t followed, but he hadn’t spotted anyone either. He tipped the driver handsomely and the cab pulled out, accelerating into the darkening Angel City sky.
Ross noticed no drifting transports. No one seemed to be watching or following, and he proceeded along the parking ledge until he made a turn, taking a route deeper into the district. He soon reached an unmarked door on an unnamed street, more of an alley, really. He hadn’t caught even the slightest hint of a tail.
Ross reached out to the knob. and it turned under his grasp, already unlocked. He opened it and stepped inside.
Even in the darkened apartment, he recognized National Intelligence Director Stanwood. He stood with his deputy, Von Kalt and a third agent.
An unseen man hit Ross in the head with what felt like a brick, but was most likely a handgun.
When he woke, he discovered he’d been duct-taped to a chair. Von Kalt was lightly slapping his cheek. Stanwood stood nearby.
Ross laughed, snapped the tape securing his right arm and grabbed Von Kalt by the throat. With a mighty effort, he head-butted the deputy director in the face, breaking his nose.
An electrical jolt to the base of his skull stopped Ross cold.
The duct tape was replaced with metal cuffs, fished from Ross’s own gear in the safe house. This time he was splashed with water, from well outside of arm’s reach.
“If you think your friends are going to save you, think again.”
“I’m not the one who needs saving,” Ross answered.
Stanwood produced an arrest warrant and pointed to Ross’s name. “You see that? Kelton Ross! That’s your name right there. So instead of wasting everyone’s time, why don’t we just jump ahead to the part where you tell me what I want to know.”
Ross spit at Stanwood.
Stanwood nodded to the agent standing behind the major and another electric jolt was delivered to his wet frame.
“Fuck you,” Ross answered.
Von Kalt stepped forward with a left jab, followed by a haymaker of a right, catching Ross square on the chin. They all heard Von Kalt’s fist crack. The sharp intake of breath confirmed a cracked knuckle, at the least.
Ross laughed, prompting another jolt of electricity to his spine, prolonged this time. Ross pushed the energy into his wrists; using the taser to fight the cuffs, maybe loosen them. He laughed the whole way through.
Stanwood gestured for the taser agent to step back. “Cut his shirt off.”
Von Kalt, nursing a sprained finger from punching Ross’s hard head, handed Stanwood his huge tactical buck knife.
Stanwood rolled his eyes but took the knife.
“Here’s what I don’t understand,” he said, as he cut the big man’s shirt off. “You’re a decorated veteran. They still tell stories about you at Quantico. You’re the knight in shining armor, rescued Ex-President Stagwell’s daughter single-handed. Took three bullets on that one; didn’t you? You’re a goddamn legend,” Stanwood said.
He finished with the shredded shirt and stepped back. “But what is this?” he asked, pointing to a spot on Ross’s stomach. “I read your file. You were shot here, here and here. But there’re no scars.”
Stanwood drew and fired, the bullet ripping into Ross’s stomach.
Ross coughed and smiled, blood on his lips. “He was farther back.”
Across the room, Stanwood raised the gun and pointed to Ross’s tattoo. “There’s nothing about any tattoos in your file. How could a Major in the US Marine Corps get something like that redacted from his file? I wonder. Maybe I’ll have to take it back to the lab, for further investigation, I mean it is clearly evidence of something.”
“My buddy?” Ross asked.
Stanwood pulled out his own audio player and played Dr. Fox’s conversation with Dr. Te.
“Terillium can be detonated,” came Dr. Fox’s voice.
Stanwood looped it.
“Terillium can be detonated,” Fox said, over and over.
Stanwood stopped the player and stooped to Ross’s eye level. “Why don’t you tell me about this latest episode of treason?”
Ross said nothing.
“As we speak, federal officers are raiding the good doctor’s home.”
“Then what do you need with me?” Ross asked.
Stanwood looked at his smoking weapon.
“Ahhhh, you didn’t get a warrant on him did you? Are you going to call it some sort of ‘training mission’ when it all goes south? Or you hoping your agents don’t finger you when Fox gets a hold of them?”
“You’re right. The Attorney General refused to sign the warrant, but that’s just a temporary delay. I will take possession of the Micronix within the next few hours, and drop it in a deep dark hole. Then you and your gang of thugs will never threaten this Republic again.”
Ross spit out a mouthful of blood. “You’re the threat, Stanwood. And now that I know it’s you behind all of this, I will see you dead.”
“Ahhh therein lies the rub, Major. I’m not acting alone. And besides, threatening a federal officer is an act of treason, a capital crime, even for a Marine Corps Officer.”
“You can’t hurt me,” Ross said.
Stanwood smiled and handed Von Kalt the knife.
Von Kalt set down the ice he’d been holding on his damaged hand and took the knife. He flexed the hand, but he didn’t have the necessary mobility, as it had swollen up nicely.
“I guess I’ll just have to do this with my left then,” Von Kalt said. “Too bad for you, chum.”
“Do your worst, Sally,” Ross taunted.
Von Kalt set about removing Ross’s tattoo with the knife.
Lee and Buckner had already noticed a distinct lack of response from their HQ. Several systems had gone off line, short-circuited by the oil and flame. When the residence ignited, the fireball confirmed their worst fears.
The three soldiers ahead of them broke formation. The center man turned around and began to advance, coming back downhill, his comrades moved to the flanks. They had the high ground, Tactics 101. Buckner and Lee had been betrayed and were now outnumbered at least two to one, with hostile forces in front and behind.
Emergency fire systems kicked on in the command post, evacuating the oxygen through a vent in the roof, producing another bright fireball. Inside the building, the remaining flames were extinguished with automated blasts of foam. The canyon faded into darkness again.
Huddled in the open area between residential backyards, Lee gave Buckner the signal for smoke, gesturing for him to throw his to the left, while Lee threw to the right.
The grenades popped and further obscured the summer evening.
Lee told Buckner to attach his silencer and pulled his own from a pocket. He gestured and the pair moved back to a covered position, then without a word, Lee dashed off to the left.
Two mercenaries came through the smoke, first one from the left, followed by another from the right. Confused, they met and continued downhill toward Buckner's covered position.
As the sergeant centered them in his sights, the head of the man to the left exploded all over his comrade. The second man ducked, intent on returning fire.
Instead, Sgt. Buckner’s bullet ended his intentions. He’d been aiming for the man's midsection, but when he ducked, the round went through the mercenary's chin, slapping into the underside of the helmet.
Lee stepped out of the darkness and fired toward the young sergeant. Buckner heard a cry from behind and Bell fell dead, just short of the sergeant's position. He looked down at the bodyguard and back at the smoldering residence.
While Buckner kept a watchful eye out for the unexpected, Lee dashed over to Bell and rolled the dead man onto his back. After a cursory search of the mercenary's pockets, Lee discovered Captain Faulkner's access card. It was the security team's only means of access to
the Fox residence, in case of an emergency.
Lee knew the rest of his team was probably dead, but he was relieved to know that Dr. Fox and his family were still secure. The three commandos represented little actual danger. They were bait. Standard devices couldn't breach the exterior of the home. Without the inside man and Faulkner's card, there was little real threat to the family.
A suppressed shot rang out and slammed Buckner to the ground.
Lee rolled back against the garage. He snapped the card in half, stomped on the pieces and fired on the plastic bits, just for good measure. Lee scanned for the remaining mercenary and wondered why they hadn't pulled out big money on this job. He'd been afraid of facing down advanced bio-mechs, but these were just regular guys. He felt cheated.
Buckner groaned from the manicured lawn. Lee was grateful that at least the mercs carried suppressors. He wouldn't have to worry about curious homeowners investigating the sounds of gunfire. He scanned the hillside again but couldn't pinpoint the shooter. He leapt forward, grabbed the wounded sergeant by his belt and dragged him to cover.
The canyon remained quiet.
Buckner woke. He pulled off his helmet and fingered the burnt hole where the incoming round had ripped through the cloth cover before striking the bulletproof composite, knocking him senseless.
In the distance, they heard the approaching sirens of the emergency crews dispatched to the ruins of their command post.
Buckner relaxed against the garage wall, rubbing his neck.
Lee placed a call to corporate, downtown.