36 – Evidence
"We have a plan, Doug." Vin stared blankly at him.
Doug responded quickly, making short, frantic gestures. "I am aware of that, Vincent. But we haven't seen any shipments, no outflow of personnel, no deliveries, no enforcers, no messengers. Nothing. We've seen nothing suspicious enter this building for three days. They are all lightly armed, no bulky packages. If this is a Slide trafficking center their output is either hidden or remarkably poor. An single-agent internal reconnaissance is the fastest effective option."
"Then we'll send in Ev. If things get tough he can get tougher." Violet jumped in, her eyes flicking between the boy and Doug. For a long time, as long as the group had been together, she and Ev had argued, and it annoyed her to no end. He'd become calmer over the past few weeks, and the arguments had slowly died down. Now, Violet found herself missing the arguments, missing Ev.
"Nah, they might recognize me." Ev leaned back. "I've dealt with quite a few of 'em, and they're not gonna let a freelance legbreaker in very far." He looked pointedly at Violet and shrugged.
"You, Doug and Janus are the only ones who can pull this off without any real advance intel on what's happening inside. I agree with Doug, we send him in, he scopes the place out, then we can go from there." He smiled lazily, and reclined even farther.
"Are you sure, Doug?" Callie stepped forward and placed her hands on his shoulders. "I can do this easy, they'll never suspect a thing from me."
"No, we can send Doug in, it's okay." Janus leapt up from his seat, his apprehension obvious. "We don't need to put you in... that situation, Callie. He can blend in, no risk to himself."
"No, we should stick to our plan. Egress through the roof, observe numbers and organization, then direct engagement with enemy forces or sabotage operations on the building and chem infrastructure." Vin gestured to a small stack of blocks covered by a tarp. "It's been well-planned and practiced, and will be effective."
They all looked to Chucho, who nodded briefly at Vin.
"I agree, we should all go in at once. Together." Callie flashed a look at Doug, unable to tell if he was thinking the same thing she was. He probably wants to keep me out of it, if he can. Her hardened affectation softened a little.
"We should send in Doug, for all we know this might be a secondary site, temporary storage or something." Janus stood by Doug, and nodded firmly in agreement with him, stealing a short glance at Callie, then a longer look around the room.
Vin, Chucho and Callie are all for sticking with the plan, me, Doug and Ev want to hold off. He came to the realization after only a moment, and all eyes turned slowly along with his to Violet. Her already large eyes grew wider, becoming vast pools of uncertainty. She suddenly felt the weight of the decision on her and began to look frantically back and forth from Vin to Doug.
"Well if we all go in and something goes wrong we could get hurt, but if we send Doug in alone and something happens he won't have any backup and then-" Vin stared dispassionately, letting Violet come to her own decision. Doug nodded comfortably when she looked at him, his eyes warm and confident. Her eyes flicked to Ev, who was starting to look bored by the whole situation, and she settled on her vote.
"We should send Doug in, but be ready to go in after him." Violet threw the words out quickly and let out an immediate sigh of relief.
Vin's face fell, just barely, and Chucho tensed up. Callie looked worried, but the rest relaxed. "Don't worry, Callie. I'll simply have a look around, and be back in no time." Doug smiled reassuringly. "If it turns out they've been laying low, if they somehow knew we were coming, we'll be better prepared than ever." A hand landed on her shoulder, and Callie finally backed away.
"Alright, but be careful."
"Are you sure about this, Doug?" Vin stood fully now, his voice louder than before. "Walking into enemy territory alone is dangerous."
"We've seen nothing, Vincent. I sincerely doubt there's anything of note here. I suspect we'll find it's simply a storehouse for long-term storage of Slide or weapons. Notable, but something we can leave to the Arbites to sort out with a well-placed public disturbance. No need to waste our entire friday night here."
Twenty minutes later Doug walked down the street, hands in pockets, only a block away from the rooftop the others were on. He had a dark blue coat and wide brimmed hat on; half a drooping lho stick hung from his mouth. No reason to waste my night here; I need to be up early tomorrow for Furia's road trip.
At first glance he looked almost exactly like Kaljar, only a hair taller even with the stoop of his walk. He flicked the smoke out of his mouth, the cinder moving in crazy patterns as it soared out into the street and extinguished in a puddle of black, oily water. The streets were dark, as the lower hive usually was, but darker here where Calef had decided to base its operations.
Are they basing them here? Doug exhaled heavily at some imagined annoyance, another quirk he'd lifted directly from Kaljar, and slid a toothpick into his mouth, chewing it fervently. They have enough guards here. The Arbites rarely patrol this block, whether from bribes or negligence, and there's certainly enough Slide activity in the area.
His face slackened, assuming an all-too-genuine worried look. He knew they should've taken more time to go over the situation, and that he'd missed the last two planning sessions to spend time with Furia or to help Johor at her request.
There was every secondary indication of this building being a hub for Calef's activities, and he was sure some under-level passage or other unexpected means of entry was the key. If they went in without knowing what that means was, it could pose a significant risk to the operation, not to mention their safety. He nodded at the roundabout logic, then rounded a corner and the building itself finally came into view: it was the same size as most of the surrounding structures, a squat, ugly thing.
High overhead one of the massive lumen strips flickered, giving the impression of silent lightning crashing through the sky overhead. Doug resigned himself, again letting the emotion play out over his face. If they thought he was the bearer of bad news, Perhaps another site was attacked?, the others would be less likely to stop and question him. I hope.
He walked straight up to the entrance, letting his hands slip out to roughly open the door. A pair of burly men with heavy lead pipes and shoulder slung autoguns stared him down. Doug nodded roughly, widening his eyes just enough for the intimidating men to be satisfied, then continued forward at a steady pace.
There were stacks and stacks of wooden pallets, many covered in tarps; loading vehicles, mostly small forklifts and a pair of dingy repulsorlifts; a grated staircase rose up from somewhere behind the stacks and equipment, then traced a high path across the right hand wall before ending at a door in the far wall. A dimly lit square of light sat next to it, shadows just visible behind the old, tattered shutters.
He got a glimpse of smiling blue eyes and a warm face, but it disappeared before he could get a closer look. Pelsius? The thought actually made Doug stop, but he picked up the pace again quickly. No, Pelsius is dead. Perhaps he had a brother or other relative.
The thought crept into his mind that Calef and Edict were technically at odds with each other, but the back of the building was approaching, the actual warehouse where Slide, guns and the various sundry items required to keep a House's territory secure and profitable would be kept. He heard grunts and noises now, more men sitting in the shadows. Tabac smoke and whispered snatches of conversation flooded the dank air of the warehouse.
"Hate this fuckin' guard work, rather be out on the street."
"Yer an idiot Jorenson, pay's just as good here, no Arbites or scamp gangs to deal with either."
A few murmurs of assent, some grumbles. A third man spoke
"What're we even doin' here? This ain't-"
The second man cut in. "Shut up, doesn't matter where we are. The boss is here and that's enough."
"Just don't know how we're supposed to run a place this light with this many guys. Not helpin' that the Babu's stepped up the tithes again."
"I'd rather take a cut in pay then lose an arm to one of those bastards. 'Sides, we get Slide cheaper'n anyone else. Damn sight better'n workin' at one o' the plants. You know what goes on there."
"I don't get why we're here when that batch of Pel's new recruits is getting' high and takin' it easy. Let 'em pay their dues and give us a break for once."
"You know the boss don't like to send the new ones out until they use the Bind."
A collective silence fell over the men, and an audible shudder ran through a few dark shapes. Doug changed his gait just in time, now stooping almost in a crouch, his steps deliberate and whisper quiet as he neared the back storage doors.
He paused for a long moment. Pel? Bind? It occurred to him he should leave now, return to the others with this information and continue surveillance. He thought about how long it would take, assuredly eating up the rest of the night, this weekend and likely several more in the future.
Doug checked over the door, seeing no lock; the windows were grimy, and nothing could be seen through them except a bright, consistent light. He gave the doors another once over, assuring himself there were no alarms to be tripped. No. Just duck in, see what's there, and duck out. Then I can get home and be up in plenty of time for the trip with Furia.
"Atris calling in." He calmed himself, then spoke quietly, hand cupped over his mouth and facing away from the group he'd passed. "I've located the storage area, proceeding to check now." Doug carefully and quietly pulled the door open, slipped through and closed it gently behind him. He checked his chrono, seeing that it was still well before midnight. Plenty of time to look over the room, get out and get to sleep. He turned and looked over the enormous room, then stopped dead.
"Atris, we read. What is your status?" Vin spoke, just a tinge of concern evident. It'd been over a minute since Doug had entered the main storage area, and they'd heard nothing.
"Atris, what is your status!" Callie all but shouted shouted into her comm-link after another thirty seconds, barely reminding herself not to give away his position. "Violet. D- do you-" The connection crackled to life, and they relaxed audibly.
"This... this is impossible." Doug stared in disbelief at the empty rear room of the warehouse.
"What? What is it?" Callie's voice was insistent.
"No, there's- there's nothing in storage here. Nothing at all. No chems, no guns, no pallets, no crates, nothing." He stayed in his half-crouch, moving forward, away from the doors. "Just an empty warehouse."
"How? There're thugs from House Calef there. If they're not here for Slide, then why are they?"
"Callie, we have to retreat. Now." Doug started to stand when the doors opened. He saw, by the dozens, thugs and legbreakers employed by House Calef begin to file in, emerging from the dark room, from behind stacks of pallets and scattered equipment.
Of course, this was a trap.
His thoughts danced over the myriad possibilities, none looking good. They started to move into the room, most with slung autorifles and some with lasguns on their backs, but none brandishing anything more intimidating than a pipe or bat.
I suppose they want to enjoy this.
Doug backed into the massive warehouse as the dozens of gangers advanced.
"Oh... oh my." he thought fast, but not fast enough as a man at the front, braver or duller than the rest, stepped forward. He was confident and slung his knife in favor of his lasgun.
"Thought there'd be more of ya. Ain't gonna be no fun a hunnerd to one."
Doug simply waited, stepping back slowly, eyes wide with fear. The man strode forward boldly, sighting on the agent with his rifle.
Of course, one should keep one's distance with a rifle. In a flash Doug reversed his momentum, driving an elbow into the man's chest, then pulling him around as cover and taking control of the lasgun. The others pulled their guns as well but waited, their would-be leader gasping for breath.
One laughed, then a few more joined in.
"Yyke, you fuckin' moron."
Yyke gasped for breath in Doug's grasp, his easy confidence now banished.
"Come on, kid. Jes' give up an' we'll make it quick, easy."
Doug looked at the men, all facing him, most with weapons that could pierce Yyke and continue straight through him without a problem. He ran the numbers. Plans of attack and escape borne of experience and implanted knowledge raced through his mind, faster and faster, a way to beat hundred-to-one odds.
His face drooped visibly. Doug looked down, his shoulders sagged and defeat visibly overcame him. He brought the rifle back first, moving it around Yyke's back and up to unsling it. It snagged and he fiddled with it, then after a long moment dropped the it on the other side of the man. Doug kicked and the lasgun slid forward, skittering to a stop in front of the crowd, all now grinning wider.
"Look at this dumb motherfucker! Coulda at least taken a couple of us with him!" The laughing started again, and Doug backed up more, eyes growing with realization. "We're gonna make this slow, punk. Pelsius don't like no little bastards cutting in on his game."
"Pelsius? But... but we killed him!" Doug's voice was incredulous, and he began to step away more fervently, dragging and choking Yyke along with him.
The laughter returned.
"Ha! You're an idiot, kid, way over your head. Pelsius' been fatebound, take more'n a fuckin' autorifle to kill him."
"Fatebound?"
"That's all you get to hear." The new leader brandished his rifle and Doug backpedaled further still, nearly three-quarters of the way across the room.
The autorifle cracked once, then again and again.
"Doug? Doug!" Callie felt Ev, then both he and Janus pulling her away as they commenced the evacuation. Indoctrination took over, and though she wanted more than anything to save Doug, it wouldn't let her endanger the others.
They retreated, splitting into pairs once more. Vin placed Janus, the most vulnerable, with Callie to ensure she wouldn't reconsider, and because he would prioritize getting her away over trying to help Doug. Twelve blocks away they changed direction, the boy still pulling her along.
This time it was Janus who hugged and comforted Callie as they journeyed deeper into the darkness of the hive. Twenty blocks away from Waypoint Alpha they convened at the airvan and loaded up. The drive was long, slow and heavy. Though the day wasn't unusually late when they finally arrived at the Tueor, it felt tired and empty.
The others went to bed almost immediately, stopping only long enough to write up individual reports and submit them to Vin for the compiled mission report. By the time Callie turned hers in he'd already finished the casualty report, and the sight of it brought fresh tears to her eyes.
She ran, ran past Vin at the door, past Janus in the close, comfortable sitting room. She ran blindly through the halls of the Imperial Palace, guided back out into the world by the Mech-Intellect. She had no idea where she was going, what she was doing.
It's too late to save him now. Or even try. She shrugged into a heavy coat at the townhouse, strangely empty as the team waited in the security of the Tueor, then continued into the night. As the minutes turned into hours, Callie wasn't surprised when, near midnight, she ended up in Hab Block 127.
Callie stumbled up the steps of Doug's apartment building, staggered down the hall of his floor. She came to his door and heard noise inside.
With a skip of her heart Callie picked the door, remembering the time she'd spent teaching Doug how to do it, how to pick locks until he was almost as good as her. She flung the door wide to see an old woman of Nippese descent arranging containers of water. She took one look at Callie, full of hope and anticipation, and burbled knowingly before leaving with a single cool jug.
As soon as Miss Hoshiko left the tears returned, and Callie collapsed on the bed. She'd laughed at the cardboard box bed the first time she'd seen it, eight full cardboard boxes with a sheet, a blanket and a pillow. Her hand found something foreign, square and strangely textured. She lifted it up and looked at it. Frankenstein; or, the Modern Prometheus. It was that book Doug was always carrying around and reading. He'd prodded Janus to start on it several times. It'd been so long since she heard him quote the book.
So stupid. Doug could carry everything of his in the room out on his own back, leave the boxes and refrigerator behind, there'd be no trace of his presence left after the protam settled out of the air. There won't be. Callie teared up again. It smells like him. It smelled like Furia too, she realized, and then Callie heard the footsteps: heavy, ungainly. She panicked at first, halfheartedly trying to think of a way out, then gave up.
It's too late to leave now. The footsteps drew closer and Callie suddenly realized this was it. I'll tell her everything. About me and Doug, how he felt about her, how he... Tears welled deeply, and Callie suddenly didn't even care how Furia would react.
The heavy boots stomped up to the door and Callie simply lay there, waiting, as Furia stood outside the threshold. The door fumbled for a moment, then opened roughly, and Callie braced herself for the roar, for the fight.
Yyke shuddered with each round that pierced his pathetic armor, cracked his sternum and ribcage, and shredded his organs. He sagged, blood draining from his torso and mouth, the last remnant of his final breath. Doug held onto Yyke, straining visibly under the weight as the horde of men advanced, grinning.
"Just make this easy kid, we don't wanna have to waste ammo or shoot up the building. We pay good money for it."
A low whine came into hearing and began to pick up, echoing throughout the warehouse, growing higher and more insistent. Doug allowed himself a small smile while he fell backwards, rolling his legs up under Yyke's limp corpse as the lasrifle detonated.
The explosion was enormously loud in the bare space, and powerful enough to crack open a main battle tank. Fully charged in preparation for the promised battle, then rigged to overcharge by Doug while he bought time, the lasgun power pack exploded with more than sufficient force to kill a hundred men.
But not quite the casualty radius. Doug's powerful legs threw Yyke's corpse to the left and, through the enormous plume of smoke and dust thrown up by the explosion, a few stubs and a lasbolt followed it. The gangers continued to pepper the corpse while Doug, now limping, bruised by concussion and cut by fragmented rockcrete and rifle casing, crawled back along the wall in the other direction.
He opened up with the autopistol at his side as he neared the exit, then pulled a cheek insert from his pocket and jammed it into the trigger guard. He tossed the gun back to the center of the room. Doug took cover behind a set of stairs, grunting lightly as he took a nick on his leg from the wild spray of the autopistol. Still, the distraction worked admirably, and he quietly crept out of the west rear entrance as the living gangers returned fire at empty space.
By the time the goons realized they'd been had he was well on his way home, trading flashlights, lockpicks and his shoes with vagrants for a pair of coats and heavy boots along the way. It took him hours to get back to Hab Block 127, taking a circuitous, inconsistent route involving several different airbuses and even the subtrain at one point.
He could tell his door had been picked even before he even put a hand on it, but was confident enough had already gone wrong tonight. Doug opened the door to see Callie laying on his bed, crying, and he felt a sudden pang of guilt at all he'd been doing for the past few weeks.
It's not fair to her. He decided to allow her some relief, at least for the night.
"Ah, Caroline, tremendous." She exploded out of the bed faster than he imagined possible. Doug accepted the hug, painful though it was, and the teary kisses to his cheeks. "If you would, Callie, I could use some help bandaging up. But first I'd like a shower."
Callie helped Doug undress, far more tenderly than she ever had before. She let him finish the job himself in the bathroom, leaning heavily against the door and crying with relief. When he emerged she dabbed biogel on his many wounds, then bandaged them up. Callie kissed his neck, but he waved her off and simply sprawled out on his bed, face up.
She sat against the bed, waiting and watching the relocked door. When Doug finally drifted off to sleep she pulled his hand down and laid it on her shoulder. Her head rested on it, and soon Callie slept peacefully.