Chapter 72 – Synthesis
It was easy for the small man with the doctor’s bag to slip past the chaos. Dr. Cedric Bergstrom moved through the station with intent. The ACPD was beyond over-confident. No one questioned him or even gave him as much as a sideways glance.
He reached the holding cell and nodded to the soldiers. They didn’t hesitate either, promptly opening the cell for the diminutive doctor.
Bergstrom nodded and smiled his thanks, waiting as they closed the heavy metal door.
Dunkirk was unconscious.
Bergstrom opened his bag and removed several wicked looking syringes. He pulled out his scanner and slowly examined Dunkirk’s shattered body. He’d seen the news clip on his way to the station.
Boy, that Ashley, she sure could kick.
Dunkirk’s body was a mess of superficial wounds, but his legs had taken the worst of it in the fall.
Cedric calculated that he’d need to prepare twenty-two injections to get the boy right. He went to work, filling the syringes with his own proprietary formulae, purple, as opposed to Dr. Fox’s more famous blue product. “When this is all over, you’ve jut got to come visit me down at the work shop, my old friend.”
Three uniformed officers tried to keep out a throng of black suited agents. They pushed right through Urich and several other detectives; they just couldn't hold them back.
The entire swarm of people flowed into the detective's workspace, filling the open corridors between desks with angry, shouting, law-enforcement officials.
When Deputy Director Von Kalt, who was at the center of the fracas, saw Ashley, he froze and gave her leering predatory grin.
A moment later he pointed at her and shouted, "This is a case of National Security! You're obstructing Justice! You're all under Arrest!"
Ashley pulled out the detective's revolver and pointed it at Von Kalt with one hand.
The room fell silent.
No one moved or spoke, and to Ashley’s utter shock, no one raised a weapon at her.
Deputy Director Von Kalt didn't answer, so Ash pulled out the piece of paper, "This warrant says you're after me. You killed my parents and now you want to kill me? You think I'm a threat to National Security?"
Detective Cole reached down to his computer and hit a button.
The video Ashley had opened was broadcast to the wall-mounted screens around the room.
The sound silenced the onlookers.
The assembled officers and agents watched the footage.
They saw Dunkirk emerge from the house, covered in blood.
They saw Dr. Fox approach Director Stanwood, asking for help.
Deputy Director Von Kalt was there, standing next to Stanwood.
Dr. Fox called Stanwood by name and he shot him.
As the video started again, a new group of agents arrived in the detective’s offices. There was hardly enough room for all the angry law enforcement officials.
He entered with the second batch of Agents. It was him: National Intelligence Director Joseph Stanwood. He was there, in front of her, staring at her. He was limping and used a cane.
Ashley smiled.
She folded the warrant and tucked it into her back pocket, moving her aim from Von Kalt to Stanwood and taking hold of the weapon with both hands. Ashley was positioned behind Cole's desk, near an open hall door.
Cole stood next to her.
There were still no guns in anyone else's hands, yet.
"What the hell is this?" Stanwood asked. "You're just going to let a child stand there, holding all of you at gunpoint?"
Over the speakers, a shot was fired.
Stanwood looked at the closest screen. He saw the image of himself, standing over Dr. Fox's body.
Detective Urich stepped forward, confronting Stanwood. "My witness isn't going anywhere with you. Neither is my prisoner. I believe we have plenty of evidence to place both of you under arrest."
"Is that a fact?" Director Stanwood said. "Habeas corpus has been suspended? You are a homicide detective, if you intend to charge someone with murder, you need the body, don't you?"
No one replied.
"Might I also point out the fact that Dr. Fox violated dozens of international laws and was threatening the state? He was in possession of advanced weaponry and threatened to hold the entire country hostage. The man was a danger to himself, as well as those around him. The warrant is legal. Now, if you obstruct me in any way, I will shoot you myself. Turn over my prisoners, Both children," Stanwood glared at Ashley, "And The Dunkirk." Stanwood referred to Dunkirk as if he were a thing, a weapon or some sort of monster.
The small doors on the far side of the office opened. A uniformed police officer entered first, with another officer close behind.
The first man was scared. He'd been struck above the left eye; his forehead was swollen and cut. The holster at his belt was empty.
The man behind him, the somewhat mobile Martin Dunkirk, wore a police issue vest and jacket as he held the young officer with a gun to his back. "Looks like this is as far as we go," Dunkirk said.
The officer swallowed.
Ashley switched her aim from Stanwood to Dunkirk.
The moment seemed to stretch into infinity.
Everyone else reached for their weapons now, but it was too late.
Only a fraction of a second had passed.
The hostage officer was wearing a bulletproof vest, Dunkirk hiding behind him. Dunkirk raised his shotgun.
Ashley fired, hitting him in the arm.
Suddenly the office came alive as agents fired and dove for cover simultaneously.
Dunkirk jerked the trigger, blasting at Ash and Cole, but Urich jumped in front of the shot, sacrificing himself for his partner and the girl.
Cole flipped the desk.
Ashley swept her hand over eight light switches, plunging the floor into darkness. As the light vanished, she marked Stanwood's position and scrambled to avoid the officers pursuing Dunkirk.
Dunkirk dragged his hostage down one of the nearby hallways.
Cole tended to the wounded Urich. He'd taken some of the scatter shot to his arms and shoulder, but his vest saved him from mortal injury.
Von Kalt went with the agents and officers in pursuit of Dunkirk.
Ash slipped through the shadows behind cabinets and desks until she found herself just a short distance from Director Stanwood. She held the Micronix in her right hand and the detective's revolver in the other.
The sounds of the pursuit returned. Dunkirk had become ensnared in the famous police department maze and was on his way back to them.
They all turned toward the hall where Dunkirk would emerge.
Ash crept closer to Stanwood.
There was a small credenza between the director and what would be the oncoming pursuit, and he was further obscured by a filing cabinet.
As Dunkirk and his hostage backed into the Detectives' Hall, he did a double take, frustrated to realize he'd simply moved in a circle.
Ashley leaned out from behind Stanwood, seeing Dunkirk and being seen by him. She glared, taunting him.
Dunkirk abandoned his hostage and opened fire on Ash with both weapons, hitting Director Stanwood several times.
Ashley hid behind the credenza and the Director.
Dunkirk's aim was off due to several police-fired rounds. He replied with blasts from the shotgun. Pursued, the fight raged on, into another section of the station.
It had all happened in a singular moment.
Stanwood, wearing terillium threads, was largely unharmed. He’d gone down, but none of Dunkirk’s shots had even drawn blood; at the worst, he might be a little bruised.
National Intelligence Director Stanwood clambered to his feet with the help of his cane and was in the process of brushing off his jacket when he first caught a glimpse of Ashley.
She had noticed it was the left knee he was struggling with and approached from that side. As he spun to confront her, she stepped forward. Her righ
t hand shot up to his neck, punching the Micronix into the left side of his throat.
"I remember how long time lasted, when I first touched this thing," she said. "I hope you're feeling every last second of this."
Ashley pulled the blade all the way around to the other side of his neck, dropping with the man as he fell to the floor.
She stared into his eyes as his breath came out his throat, making a sad flute-like sound. She watched the light fade from his eyes as his oxygen-deprived system slowly ceased understanding and experience.
Crouched low, Ashley had not been seen.
Cole and Urich were on the other side of the credenza, in the other section of the office.
Using the natural cover, Ashley crept out of the detectives' wing. She found a restroom and stopped to ditch the gun and wash the blood from her hands. From there, according to the evacuation placard glued to the wall, it was no more than thirty steps to an unguarded stairwell.
Ashley moved quickly, but without hurrying. By the time her brain realized it had been too easy, it was too late.
Ashley was halfway down the first flight of stairs when she saw Deputy Director Von Kalt. He was just standing there, waiting for her.
He was holding his gun at his side. He was also holding the second prototype. She could see it.
She could feel it, The Metachron.
Ashley was still holding the Micronix herself. She hadn’t retracted the blade. She had washed it, in the bathroom, but the matte black edge was still exposed to the cool night air.
Ash felt an alien confidence well up from deep within her.
She stood up straight and walked toward the man who’d been pursuing her for weeks.
Coming down the stairs, they both knew her power. Ashley reached Von Kalt. Saying nothing, she held out her empty hand.
Von Kalt could have raised the gun.
Instead, he handed her the Metachron and stepped aside.
Ashley didn’t look at him; she just took the device and walked past.
As she reached the landing, she heard him exhale.
The sudden shot startled her.
His body fell onto the hard metal steps with a resounding thud.
Three floors later, Ashley retraced the blade and pocketed the Micronix. She was evacuated right out the front door with dozens of other people. A crowd was beginning to form due to the ongoing chaos, and naturally, no one was being allowed to enter.
Not far from the shuttle gates, Ashley spotted a familiar little head, struggling to see above the adults and catch a glimpse of what was going on. Geoffrey and a young social worker watched the building, along with dozens of onlookers.
Ashley made her way over to them, gesturing for him to stay quiet. From just a few feet away, Ash nodded and Geoff slipped away from the social worker. She looked like a nice enough girl, but she could cause real trouble for them if she were to insist on delivering Geoffrey to proper authorities.
Geoffrey inched further and further away from the distracted girl. Before long he just turned and walked away from her.
Moments later the reunited brother and sister were sprinting away from the police station, dodging pedestrians, giggling and laughing, the chaos behind them forgotten.