The Policeman (2 page)

Taggeris was a company founded by her great grandfather about a century ago which was the leading manufacturer of the electromagnetic plates and nano-fiber used to repair our artificial atmosphere. They had revolutionized the technology that otherwise had not changed much since its initial inception. Now the service life of each plate was extended by four times the previous models service life. To put it in layman's terms, they are more efficient and more reliable than the previous competitors out there. It was also much more expensive.

"That's nonsense!" she stood exasperated. "Our company was founded on integrity and I would never do anything to jeopardize my family's company. It means everything to me," she said.

"That's not my problem, Ms. Taggert," I said coldly as Thom, who was now sitting upright against the crumpled wall that Linnis had thrown him into looked up at me. His face was bruised and a small amount of blood was dried under his nostrils.

"Do I not at least have an opportunity to confront my accuser?" she was stalling. I could tell that she had noticed the extent of my injury and planned to leverage it against me in order to make her escape.

"You know it doesn't work that way," Thom said sourly. He knew the system and how it worked, just as much as she did. Mira looked down as Linnis stepped behind her and draped his arms around her.

"I know," she replied as she curled into Linnis' arms and placed a delicate hand around his neck. Her face drifted into his shoulder as she wained from the reality of what was to be her end.

Linnis looked up at Thom as a barely audible whisper escaped her lips. I was not attuned to reading lips, but based on the cold glare when Linnis stared at Thom I could see that this family was not going to go down without a fight. Without any type of physical warning Linnis lunged at Thom and bore his full weight into Thom's stomach. I could hear the air escape in a solid burst of air that reminded me of a balloon bellowing the air as it was squeezed free from its confinement, even to the staccato bursts at the end of the exhale.

Mira caught on to my distraction and leapt towards me with an ornate spear that had been resting against the bedroom wall. The glistening ivory of the shaft was engraved with some kind of writing that may have been traceable to her families ancestry before colonizing Mars.

Or it could have been decorative, either way it would impale me to a certain death. Not one that I was particularly interested in experiencing.

I brought my left hand down as the spear approached. Her hesitation at the last minute had given me just enough time to grip it tightly with one hand and to shove my fist into her shoulder knocking her to the floor. The effort took a bit out of me and I could see blood dripping from my body to the floor at a steady rate now.

"You son of a bitch, do you understand who I am? Who my family is? You will be killed for what you have done to me!" she screamed before choking on a sob that was caught in her throat. Her makeup was running down her face and it reminded me of one of the masks I had seen at the Solstice Festival earlier in the evening, as the red and white lights danced against the plastic exterior of the woman's face in the square. Mira ran her sleeve across her face and she sat on her knees and waited for the blast from my gauntlet that would end her life.

I looked up at Thom to see that he had killed Linnis with the silent killer that rested on his own arm. Mira did not follow my gaze, she knew that the silence that filled the room answered the question that poured from her heart.

What about my brother? She would feel the question more than ask it. I knew because I had felt the same when my mother had passed.

I watched above as her head fell into her hands and muffled the anguish of her loss. She would not feel it much longer as I lifted my arm and pointed the beam in her direction. I was only following orders in the same detached way that I had been trained to do, but I felt something more this time. You could call it a connection, or a twinge of sympathy that had no business clouding my mind. The programing kicked in as my emotions entered the equation, rational thought was smothered by my training and I braced myself for that simple, controllable act, and fired.

It was over, another assignment that ripped the tethered soul that rested somewhere deep inside the monster that I had become. The monster that I should not recognize as a monster because of the programming, but yet it still reared its ugly head. I lowered my arm and turned away from Thom who was watching me, learning from me, as was his lot in this relationship. I could not bear to allow him to see me struggle with this assassination, wounded or otherwise.

It was not the death, but the life that it resembled that tore at my mind. Mira bore such a close resemblance to my sister Kara. I could not help the fact that my association with the two entered my mind as the laser blasted through my targets head. It was done, there was no going back. Even if I could take it back, another policeman would be assigned to carry out the execution.

I swallowed bile and the burn in my throat brought me back to reality. I inhaled deeply before walking away, holding my side and grimacing in pain.

"Are you all right?" Thom asked with concern coloring his face.

"I'm fine," I lied. The only way I was going to get through this was to remove the emotional attachment that I carried with me always. I knew what needed to be done. I had to distance myself from my only surviving relative. I had to destroy my family before the monster inside of me destroyed it for me. "Can you file the report, Thom?" I asked in an effort to take some time to myself.

"Of course, Serus," he said behind me.

"Good. I've got something that I need to take care of," I said as I left the Taggert residence and reached for my communicator. Kara's number was the fourth one from the top, and I slide my finger over her name and waited for the sound of her voice to greet me on the other end. I had known for some time that this day was inevitable, it was for her own good, and mine. The part that hurt most was that I knew it would be for the last time. I had to let go of the past in order to survive the future. I just hoped that she could understand that and not hate me for it later. This genuinely was an act of love, even if it did not feel like it.

"Hello," she said into her communicator. I hesitated, trying hard to delay the inevitable. The hurt and the heartache. "Serus, are you there?"

I couldn't wait any longer.

"Kara, it's me. We need to talk," I said finally. And that was how I was to put the past behind me. With death and depression.

THE FOLLOWING PAGES ARE AN EXCERPT FROM "MR. GRIMM" THE FIRST PART IN "THE TWIN CITIES SERIES"

"MR.GRIMM"

Chapter 1

The labored breath of an old man escaped my lips as I sauntered over to an even older desk. It was perched atop three sturdy legs, the fourth was braced with an old Webster's dictionary. The damned thing still didn't sit level, but I honestly didn't give two shits about that. It was the ringing phone that drew me over to this side of the room, the side that I often neglected because of the window that was open to a street view. One never could be too careful these days.

I picked up the receiver. "Yeah," I answered in my general gruff demeanor.

"Mr. Grimm, I see you have returned from your last...contract," the French accented voice said with an air of superiority over someone of my class.

"It's done," I answered in an attempt to end the conversation more abruptly.

"That's good to hear, though it seems that you were not as successful as we had hoped."

This was news to me. "What do you mean?" I asked, knowing that failure was unforgivable in this line of work and I had worked too hard, had too much on the line for failure to be an option. I thought of my daughter, the reason I had been so willing to take this life of punishment. If I failed and was killed, what did that mean for her?

"I mean, my dear Alexander, that there was a witness this time and you have exactly two hours to silence her, or maybe I will let the appeals process take effect and we can renegotiate the terms of your sentence. I think we both know where that will lead, don't you?"

Son of a... "I'm on it. what's the name?" I pulled out an old yellow legal pad and pencil to take down notes.

"The witness is a black woman named Genevieve Le Fortier," he said over the line. A slight hiss of static punctuated his words.

"Not a common name nowadays," I said. "She must be one of your kind."

"Don't fail to silence this one, Mr. Grimm". He neglected to confirm my suspicion, but rather it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that I succeeded in removing this threat to my master's society, or else the repercussions were not going to be in my favor.

I went to speak only to have my thought interrupted by a dial tone. It was just like him to hang up on me, treating me like I was beneath him. I guess the truth is that I was. I was nothing more than a food source for his kind. My only clout now was that I was good at killing them; that granted me just enough respect in his dark little world.

I set the receiver back in place, pulled out my .38 and reloaded the silver hollow point bullets into the cartridge. Once satisfied, I rolled the cylinder and reengaged it so that I could pull back the hammer and be ready to discharge a round into one Genevieve Le Fortier. I holstered the pistol into my shoulder holster, which was hidden under a black suit jacket. My master required all of his minions to dress to the nines; this apparently included contract killers. My years of service had diminished the burden of my attire, still I felt ridiculous wearing it, since I was more of a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy.

I walked over to leave my apartment behind yet again. I pulled the hard, wooden door shut behind me and engaged the three deadbolt locks. To say that I was careful was an understatement. I took obsessive compulsive to the next level.

I labored down the stairs and felt each step ping the lack of cartilage in my knees. The bones rubbed against their neighbors with each step and no amount of medication dulled it enough to make me not care. That was a lie actually, Valium and vodka were my two best friends, but I'd have to wait until the job was done before having them over.

I stepped out of my apartment building and into the negative twenty degree weather which stung my nostrils with each breath. I hated winters in Minnesota. I had never acclimated to it after moving up from Florida more than thirty years ago. I doubted that I ever would. The small blessing was that the Buick parked in my designated parking spot had never fully cooled after my last excursion into the night.

I sat down with a huff and groan and cranked the engine. The defrost was already set at full blast and the cool air wafted up from the dash before the heat of the engine warmed it up enough to be useful. I sat in the driver's seat for about three minutes before putting it into drive and heading back towards the highway. I knew that any witness to my previous activity might still be lurking, waiting for the authorities to arrive. I would just have to beat them there was all.

I punched the gas and the Buick fishtailed to the right slightly before I eased off of the gas pedal. Did I mention that I hated winter in Minnesota? Driving in snow and ice was a bitch. I looked at the clock on the radio and saw that I had an hour and forty five minutes to silence my next target. With that information I shrugged my shoulders and popped my neck. The stress of time had done a number on me, and my battered body suffered the most for it.

I looked through the rearview mirror to see if I was being followed. The only thing looking back at me was my cold, blue eyes. My bald head with a gray stubble beard and the hard lines on my face showed just how weary I really was. I may have been dressed ready for the red carpet, but I felt like I would have been better off buried six feet under. If nothing else, I looked like a good candidate.

I blinked and looked away from the ghastly form that I recognized as a former version of myself. I had a job to do and only a short amount of time to do it. I squinted against the light that reflected off the snow and drove on, with nothing else on my mind than killing.

As usual the dark thoughts of mind were intertwined with the still images of my daughter, Angelica. She had once been a spitting image of her mother, before the monstrous acts of that night. I shook my head, but the images were burned into my mind, a penance for my sins. I often wished that the mercy of God would rescue me from my torment. I reached over to the silver rosary that dangled carelessly on my right wrist. I had never been a religious man throughout my life, but if God did exist, then I knew he probably hated my employer as much as I did. Him and all of his kind. It was the only hatred that burned brighter and hotter than the contempt I held for myself.

Suicide would have been a much easier price to pay, I thought as I choked back a sob of sorrow which threatened my composure.

I turned east on the highway and headed away from the city. The Realms waited; the mirrored image of a modern city, caught between St. Paul and Minneapolis. That was where the term "twin cities" truly originated, though most lay folk thought it was a reference to those two similar cities. I had thought the same thing prior to my conversion. How I wished I could have that life back.

The highway was sparse, save for a few vehicles headed in the opposing direction. One idiot traveled through the snowy terrain with his high beams on. I wondered if he fought the glare reflected back from the ice and snow as much as I did having it face me. I contemplated a middle finger gesture, but I knew he wouldn't see it, so I kept my hands on the wheel.

The drive was only twenty minutes or so from my apartment, but the world was completely different. The gravel road that took me to the entrance was well hidden and neglected. There were numerous potholes that pitted the road. It was like driving on a collapsed mountain. I pulled forward and stopped at the gate which prevented the curious trespassers from crossing over by accident. The otherworldly beings on the other side had a rash way of handling those people... let's just say that they never set foot in this world again.