Project Northwoods (20 page)

Zombress continued to stare at him with a mixture of contempt and pure, unadulterated indifference. Arthur, who had followed Tim up the stairs, poked out meekly from behind him. “What he means to say, Zombress, is that we really respect and look up to you.”

Tim shot Arthur a dirty look. “Yeah, I was getting to that, Art.” He resumed smiling at the two women at the top of the stairs, neither of whom were paying him any attention.

“I was called here by Tom Gavin, our night security guard,” Zombress calmly explained to Talia. “A hero brought in the body of an Italian mobster and insisted on speaking only to me.”

The reporter cocked an eyebrow. “That seems like an egregious breach of protocol.”

Zombress nodded. “Quite.” She folded her arms. “But between her abject terror and my… necrotic talents… doing what she asked appeared to be a rational move.”

Talia stared, silently judging them before returning to the other woman. “So, what happened?”

Zombress started walking toward the next set of stairs. “The girl is a mess. Before Aquaria – the girl in question – passed out, she said someone from the Guild told her to find the goon. A fight broke out, and an unidentified third party killed him and nearly her.”

“How did he die?”

“Fireball, if she remembers correctly.” They were now walking down a corridor, Tim and Arthur a respectful distance behind them. “I tended to her as best as I could.”

“What about the stiff? Didja bring him back yet?” Tim asked. Zombress stopped as Talia shot him a dirty look. He cleared his throat as Arthur glared at him. “I mean… you can do that… right?” he asked quietly.

“Not unless you’d like him to end up as a psychopath with a taste for murder,” Zombress said without looking at him. She resumed her long strides, the others following obediently. “Tom is keeping watch in my office. I told him to pull the plug on the security cameras so we should have some privacy.”

“I still don’t see why this is a big deal,” Talia said. “This looks like an issue for Internal Affairs, not the news.”

Zombress stopped. She withdrew a damaged USB drive from her pocket and held it aloft. “The girl said he was trying to get somewhere. This was the only thing on him and I don’t have the know-how to pull any kind of data off of it.” She gave it to Talia. “Things aren’t adding up.”

“Does anyone else know?” Talia asked, flipping the drive over in her hands.

Zombress looked over her shoulder at the two men following her. “Desert Ranger.”

“Why him?” Tim asked. Arthur whacked his shoulder as Talia glared again. The women stopped, Arthur and Tim following suit.

“I have reason to trust him,” Zombress said as she coldly regarded Tim. The man offered an ingratiating smile under her gaze. “He should be here by now. We’re trying to figure out what our…” She trailed off, her head snapping in the direction they came. “I need to go.” Zombress sped off down the corridor. “You need to get out of here. Make sure you aren’t seen.” With that, she was down another hallway.

“What was that about?” Arthur asked, stepping to take a closer look at the drive in Talia’s hand.

Tim looked over his shoulder, “I think I hear something, Art.”

“This has been torn to shreds,” Talia remarked about the flash drive. “Looks like it took a bullet.”

“I’m sure I could pull something off of it,” Arthur said as he reached for the item.

Talia yanked her hand away. “She gave it to me. Sorry… Arthur, was it?” She smirked. “But I don’t trust you.”

Tim slammed into the two of them and shoved them around a corner. Before either of them could chastise him, they heard it, too. Footsteps. “Zombress must have heard it first,” whispered Tim. Arthur felt his heart beating against his chest as the steps grew louder.

“Over here,” whispered Talia. A few feet away and inset into the wall, an alcove with a fire extinguisher and drinking fountain provided a small but immediately appreciated nook to hide in. The footsteps grew louder until they slowed and stopped. The three peered out carefully.

Julia. It was Julia, with an ornately etched, heavy-caliber revolver drawn and looking very, very serious.

“Art, it’s your sister,” Tim whispered eagerly.

Arthur fought the urge to punch him in the back of the head. “Yes, Tim, I see that.”

Talia shot them an angry look. Julia looked down to her left, then her right. The three of them had already mashed themselves into their corner before she could see them. “Claymore, this area is secure. Heading toward target office.”

She raised her weapon and walked down the same corridor Zombress disappeared down. The three looked around the corner again.

“Your sister’s hot,” Tim said. Arthur smacked him and Tim immediately turned and grabbed him by the collar. The scuffle inadvertently rattled the spray cans, catching Julia’s attention. She whipped a flashlight off her belt as she turned around. Talia threw her arm across the two friends and shoved them to the wall as the light clicked on.

“Anyone there?” she asked. After no one responded, she turned the light off. Her footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Are you two insane?” hissed Talia after the noise faded.

Tim smiled winsomely. “I’m a sucker for a girl in uniform.”

“We need to get out of here,” Arthur said, moving away from the wall and down the hall.

“You need to go. I have to warn Zombress.” Talia made to follow Julia.

“This isn’t our fight,” Tim whispered as he moved toward Arthur.

Talia shook her head. “She’s walking into a trap.”

Arthur pushed his way in front of her. “Zombress is a big girl. She can take care of herself.” Tim took solace that, for the first time in the evening, Arthur was thinking like a rational human being.

“I didn’t ask your permission,” Talia said with a wave of her hand. Tim and Arthur exchanged looks, and, out of some sense of duty, shame, or insanity, decided to follow.

They didn’t get very far when they caught up with Julia, pressed against the wall and peeking around the corner. “What do you mean he wants us to wait?” A pause. “What’s going on in there?” Another pause. “Why didn’t he wait for–”

The explosion was enormous, shaking the building hard enough to throw everyone standing nearby to the ground. While they were still falling, a pressure wave ripped through, pulverizing the mortar and tile, throwing a wall of debris up like a cloud of smoke. The sound was immense, leaving a high pitched whine in Arthur’s ears. For a moment, he was sure he had died, but then he felt someone’s hand around his arm.

It sounded like someone asked, “Are you alright?”, but he couldn’t be sure. He nodded anyway. Someone went running by him through the dust. What seemed like a lifetime later, someone else did the same. As the friendly hand was trying to help him up, he heard it: a familiar feminine voice.

“No!” A scream, thick with grief, rent the air. “She killed him! She killed him, Claymore!”

Someone yanked him away from the friendly hand. “I’ve got you, scum!” shouted a voice which Arthur didn’t recognize, but he knew he didn’t like. His eyes were clearing enough to see the face of who he now knew was Claymore shouting down the hall as he slammed him into the wall. “Gunslinger! I have an accomplice!”

Claymore must have been partially blinded, because he clearly hadn’t seen Tim. The much smaller man leapt up and brought his fist down, hard, against the back of Claymore’s head. Arthur fell to the ground, coughing from being used as a hammer against a particularly uncooperative wall. Before Claymore recovered, Tim kicked him in the shin, making him double over in time to connect a brutal uppercut. The blow sent the hero sailing, end-over-end, but he managed to land on all fours. He ran forward and knocked into Tim, sending them both to the ground.

“Run!” Tim yelled at Arthur. Arthur looked around, grabbed a fire extinguisher which had been blown off the wall, and ran to the brawlers. He hooked the heavy thing upwards, knocking Claymore off Tim. The man stumbled but quickly got upright before unsheathing the monstrous sword on his back. He made to turn and swing simultaneously, but Tim had grabbed the fire extinguisher from Arthur, aimed it at him, and squeezed the trigger.

His howl of shock was loud enough to make Tim impulsively drop his weapon, grab Arthur, and run. Claymore was swinging wildly at nothing. “Gunslinger! They’re getting away!”

The two ran through the darkened corridors as fast as they could. “What happened to Talia?” Arthur managed to shout.

“Don’t talk, just run!” Tim shouted. They reached the lobby and skidded to a halt. Outside, red and blue lights flooded the night and spilled into the lobby, illuminating the shattered remnants of the entrance in staccato bursts. Something must have blown through it. “Enforcers? They called the Enforcers?” Tim yelled in disbelief as shadows leapt around by the fountain outside, too fast to make out.

A loud bang, and Tim fell forward and over the railing, yelling as he went. Arthur looked down the hall and saw his sister, her gun smoking, round the corner. “I know one of you is down!” She screamed. He wanted to yell at her, to tell her to stop, but he didn’t think it would do any good. “I’m warning you, I don’t miss!” Thumbing the hammer, the cylinder turned and clicked.

Arthur didn’t feel like testing the theory that she was fond enough of him to make the shot go wide. He turned and ran toward the steps, practically diving down them when Julia fired. With a measure of relief that was small in comparison to the bruising he was taking as he half-rolled down the stairs, a potted plant at the end of the lobby exploded. Once his momentum stopped, he finished vaulting down the stairs upright and ran toward where he and Tim had entered.

Tim joined him immediately, rubbing the back of his head. A bit dazed, he muttered, “Your sister’s kinda mean.”

Behind them, a huge flash lit up the hall, and Arthur turned to look. Illuminated by the fading light, Julia was still chasing them. “She’s still coming!”

They charged down the stairs and ducked into the storeroom. Arthur reached the security door and twisted the handle as Julia burst into the room. She fired, the bullet meant for him inadvertently redirecting into the light just above Arthur’s head.

“What the fuck!” Julia yelled in frustration as she decided to close distance instead of worrying about why her ability wasn’t working. The door’s seal popped again as Arthur pushed on it. The change in air pressure practically sucked him into the dusty chamber beyond.

“Come on!” He grabbed Tim and yanked him across the threshold.

He started to shove the door closed as hard as he could. Tim joined him as Julia reached the other side. She threw her weight against it, but it wasn’t enough. Arthur looked up as she repositioned in an effort to get better leverage. She looked up as Arthur’s face was illuminated by the red light. Her expression slackened as her eyes locked with his. She stopped pushing and the door slammed shut.

The security door clicked and re-sealed, locking for good this time. The light on the panel went from red to yellow as the system began a diagnostic, making them safe for the moment. Arthur fumbled for the Home Drive’s flashlight function as he and Tim heaved in the dark. Several long, panicked breaths later, Tim turned to his friend.

“And this, Arthur, is why I wanted to
fucking stay at home
.”

It couldn’t have been Arthur. It was a mistake.

But I can’t miss… unless…

Unless she didn’t really want to shoot someone.

Maybe I’m… too emotional to focus.

Julia looked at her hands, dropping the gun to the floor.

I shot his accomplice. Around a corner. Without looking.

She fell to her knees, unable to catch herself.

It doesn’t matter, in the end. He’s dead.

The heroine pitched forward, hands hitting the floor as tears fell from her eyes.

My father’s gone forever.

ESCAPE

STILL ALIVE.

Zombress’s ears were ringing even as her eyes were recovering from the sudden, blinding flash. The room had been blown apart, splinters of desk and shreds of paper wafting on currents of super-heated air. Pieces of dark fabric, which she could only guess were the remains of Dark Saint’s cloak, burned as they floated downward. Desert Ranger was sprawled in one corner, unmoving and shattered. The security guard was similarly splashed to the wind. The goon, sprawled as he was on the desk, was particularly vaporized. The room, moments ago, had hosted a Mexican standoff with the equivalent of tactical nukes.