The Last Horizon (20 page)

“Excuse me, Miss...” An older man in a dark suit smiled.

I felt a sharp sting in my left arm and turned around to see that another man had snuck up on me. “Ouch! What was ththaat?” I slurred as I felt my legs slip away from under me. I felt a surge of warmth wash over my body and my vision blurred before everything darkened and I blacked-out.

When I came to, I found myself in a dim room; my head throbbed with a dull pain, and it was hard to get my eyes to focus on anything. The muscles in my arms were numb and my body felt like lead.

It took me a minute to realize that my hands were bound over my head and I was suspended from a heavy chain that was looped around a huge h
ydronic pipe main. My feet dangled about a foot off the grated floor.

“Wake up!” A male voice echoed.

I looked up slowly and saw a blurry figure standing in front of me. I wondered how long this drug induced stupor would keep me in a haze.

“Damn it
!” Another voice cussed and I felt his hand pull my left eyelid up to examine my state. “Sheesh! I told you not to use too much juice. She’s high.”

“Back-off, yhamo, I didn’t give her the full cocktail.”

“She’s dorked-out!”

I heard a small snap and coughed as an ammonia capsule was passed under my nose.

“About time you woke up.”

“Where am I? What are you doing to me?” I asked as I looked around. The two men from the lobby stood
grimly in front of me.

“Let’s start with the basics. Who are you, young lady?” The older one demanded.

“Wells. Nikki Wells.”

“What are you doing in Fluture?”

“I’m on vacation.”

“Vacation?” The man asked sarcastically as he held up my Cobalt. “I’m going to ask you again, what are you doing in Fluture?”

“I got lost on the way to college.”

“Have it your way.” The older man stepped back and nodded at his partner.

The younger man in the suit stepped forward and punched me in the stomach three times. I tried to clench my teeth but the wind was knocked out of me with every blow, and I swayed backwards from the impact. I coughed hoarsely and gasped for air as stars danced in front of my eyes.

“An hour
ago we found a coworker of ours in his dressing room,” the older man glowered, “he was doped on crunch and harquinol, and somebody hooked his scrawny ass to a light socket for a massage. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

The man reached up and slapped my face. “Before he died, he managed to tell us about some psycho-groupie bitch that tortured him. As luck would have it, our surveillance cameras caught you leaving his room.” He sighed and continued. “What we want to know is how much Herron told you. Tell us that, and we put an end to your pain.”

“The only thing I know,” I muttered weakly as I looked up at him and tried to catch my breath, “is that your receding hairline…really calls attention to your one eyebrow.” I coughed. “You should consider having crop rotation done on your forehead.”

The older man smiled and shook his head as he looked at his partner. “Such a waste. I’ve lost patience with this one.” He took out my knife and held it in front of me.

“This look familiar?” He grinned. “Herron said you were going to carve him up with it. I like to play games too, sunshine.” He turned the blade slowly in front of me. “I’m going to ask you one more time, if you don’t tell me what I need to know, I’m going to start cutting off parts of you. Do we understand each other?”

“
Herron told me about..Cybelle…
” I whispered faintly as I lowered my head and looked at the floor.

“Come again?” The man tilted his head.

“
…Cybelle…
”

He took a step toward me as I pulled myself up the chain and kicked his face
. The man dropped my knife as he landed on his ass and blood gushed out of his broken nose. His partner pulled out a pistol and pointed it at my head…

“ENOUGH!” A voice boomed from the entrance of the room. “What the hell are you two doing?”

It was Jase. He strode in angrily, glared at my captors, then looked at me.

“IDIOTS!” He barked. “Get her down from there!”

“Mr. Jase,” the younger one spoke nervously, “this person is responsible for Herron’s death…”

“I said get her down!”

The older man reached up and untied me while his cohort gently lowered me to the floor.

“Mr. Jase,
she may be jeopardizing the operation.”

“She’s part of the operation, you fucking imbecile.” Jase crouched down and dabbed the beads of perspiration from my face with a handkerchief. “What happened to your face, Asoy?”

“Bah! Who is she, Mr. Jase?”

“Someone more important than you.” Jase said coolly as he stood up, pulled a pistol with a sound suppressor out of his ja
cket, and shot the older man in the head.

His
startled partner backed up in fear as he instinctively held his hands in front of his face, “NO! Please…”

Jase pointed his pistol at the man
’s head and pulled the trigger. He paused for a second, then stepped over to me and carefully helped me to my feet. “Can you walk? Come on, we don’t have much time, let’s get you back to Cybelle.”

My vision blurred as I stood up,
then everything around me went hazy and I passed out.

S
cott drove the SS-2 up the winding two-lane street that ascended the eastern ridge of Sertina Valley. The road was lined heavily with tall birch-like trees on both sides and the flora was thick and green along the shoulders.

He drove with the window down and could smell the sweet fragrance of the flowering plants that flourished in these mountains as the cool air brushed against his face.

The Avarno was definitely designed for performance and cornered extremely well on the hairpin turns. It was fast and luxurious; a vehicle that fit in with the high-end communities established in the valley.

He took note of the sparse traffic and slowed down after another car traveling the opposite direction passed him and disappeared from site
in his rearview mirror.

Scott pulled
off the street onto a dirt path that cut through the forest. The trail narrowed and the terrain got rougher as he drove further away from the main road. He kept his speed down to avoid kicking-up too much dust as he drove another ten minutes on the isolated pathway.

He checked the car’s GPS an
d came to a stop. This was it. It had to be. Scott pulled over to the side and backed the car into a copse of trees and brush. He checked his watch and waited an hour as he scanned his surroundings and memorized the lay of the land.

It was late afternoon and he watched
the shadows shift on the ground as the minutes ticked away. Scott closed his eyes and slowed his breathing as he cleared his mind. He didn’t think about the mission or what he had to do to carry it out.

There was a part of himself
deep inside that he had to find and reconnect with; a part that he had not seen in a long time--a part of another existence when survival was grounded on instinct and cunning, and his actions instilled fear in his prey: the fear of looking over your shoulder for someone who wasn’t there, the fear of being hunted by a predator that had no mercy…

…h
e felt himself slip into the fragmented memories of his broken past: a warrior lying motionless in the forest--host to the chill brought by a winter rain the night before, wet leaves against his face as a ground fog eddied lifelessly around him…the cold, indifferent shades of a grey dawn creeping across the ground…a dirty face illuminated by fires leaping against the dark sky as he watched shadows dance through a scope…the crack of high-powered rifles shattering the silence of first light…the split-second expression of release on his adversary’s face as a cloud of red filled the air…the thick, coppery smell of blood, and the silence of the aftermath. Scott opened his eyes and saw the translucent reflection of his face on the windshield. His eyes were cold and dead. He had resurrected the assassin.

Scott got out of the car and opened the trunk. He looked ov
er the gear he had prepared, took out the ghillie suit, and put it on. He made a few adjustments before he pulled the hood over his head and slipped on his gloves.

He
reached down and opened the flat case that contained the parts of the M341 and assembled the Trinity in under a minute. He took the rifle’s twelve-round magazine and inserted the four explosive rounds first, the two armor-piercing hollow points were next, then he took a single round out of his pocket and looked at it.

It w
as the one projectile that made the journey with him from Earth. A Halon & Wood two-staged tungsten jacketed hollow point. Flat black with the manufacturers name in yellow lettering stamped into its casing, Scott turned the bullet slowly between his index finger and thumb as he examined it with reverence, he slid it into the clip, and slapped the mag deftly into the rifle. It was time.

Scott took a few steps back from the car, turned to scan the thickets around him, then vanished silently into the forest.

He moved through the thick brush and vines quietly as he made his way through the woods. He paid special attention to the landscape and made sure he didn’t leave a trail of broken branches or footprints in the bed of leaves and pine needles as he cut his own path.

He listened to the chirps and buzzes of birds and i
nsects that surrounded him. Except for the occasional whoop of squirrel monkeys, he was alone and could hear the beat of his own heart as he walked with the M341 held at port. Scott stopped every few minutes just to listen and keep his senses connected with the environment.

T
he trees here were bunched close together and their foliage kept it cool in the dimming valley. He had another quarter of a mile before he got to the place he selected as the location to view the strike point.

Scott glanced at
the GPS watch just to get his bearings and make sure he was moving in the right direction. It was getting darker and he wanted to be in position by nightfall to get the Trinity dialed in.

He could hear the rustle of
leaves overhead as a breeze came from the west. He looked up and saw a large group of monkeys skipping noisily through the branches above him. Sertina Valley was still an untapped wilderness rich with wildlife. The communities built on the sides of the mountains displaced many species, but the majority of the valley remained an untouched sanctuary.

The ground
had a gradual slope and Scott could see some of the posh country houses on the opposite side of the valley. There weren’t a lot of homes on the face of the mountain, but the ones that were built were mansions seated in acres of vineyards growing on shelves carved into the face of the massif.

Then he saw
it, Charon’s villa. A white, two story structure cut into the eastern face of the valley surrounded by towering trees covered with thick moss. There were wide marble steps that descended to a circular driveway on the south end of the property where a large fountain was centered. He shouldered the Trinity as he dropped to a knee, took out a range finder, and scanned parts of the villa to get his distance established.

This was a good vantage point; it was slightly elevated from the villa and the vegetation was lush and impenetrable with the naked eye.
From his position, Scott could clearly see the master bedroom on the second level and most of the courtyard that led to the driveway. The main entryway was obscured by the thick ivy that grew on the east walls and draped over the lower patios. He was a little over two thousand meters away.

About forty yards in front of him was a sheer drop of sixty meters into the jagged banks of a wide river that flowed between the mountain ridges. Scott went prone
in the bushes where he could see the villa between the trunks of two Allura pines and over the tops of the trees in the valley below.

It was getting dark
and he was tired. Scott unfolded a bi-pod with spiked feet and attached it to the barrel of the Trinity before positioning it on the hard ground in front of him. He removed the lens covers for the scope and began making his adjustments on the kill zone. He planned on taking the shot tomorrow morning, but first, he had to wait for him to arrive.