Chapter 3
Amazingly, Stahl had agreed to put her career and, possibly, her life on the line to act on the gung-ho plan laid out by the men. She agreed to inform Maldonado of Dorian's suspicions, knowing that the Captain would be more apt to listen to both Stahl and Dorian. The smaller detective then gave them a canny look and shook her head.
"You two are planning to single-handedly go up against Insyndicate. You have no concrete proof outside of a pattern that they're even going to act tonight." It wasn't a question and the tone of voice was clearly disbelieving of both the success and sanity of the pair's plot. She wasn't sure, in that moment whether she pitied the men, or she thought them possibly touched in the head. It was probably a little of both. But, helping them out would endear her to the enigmatic Kennex. In the end, was it even worth it, though? She respected the hell out of him, so it was a bit of a moot point. Prior to the ambush and loss of his partner, Kennex had been one of the best in the field. He'd turned down promotions to remain a Detective. It had been rumored that both the CIA and FBI had courted him.
But John was loyal to a fault. He'd proven that with the fiasco involving the murder of Detective Cooper. And for that, Stahl knew she would do her utmost to live up to his standards. Was it a touch too much hero worship? Perhaps. But every good detective needed someone to look up to. They needed someone who seemed nearly untouchable by corruption that they could model themselves after. Someone who would do everything in their power to ensure those around them stayed safe and alive. And she hadn't forgotten the lengths he and Maldonado had gone to bring her back after the Avery clones had kidnapped her.
John had had the decency to look a little sheepish, though he was far more thankful to be out of that damned trunk. It had been far too cramped for his liking. The smell had been a little off, though he'd smelled far worse. Paul's feet, he silently mused and smirked.
"Do I want to know what you're thinking, John?" Dorian asked, looking a little disturbed by John's expression.
He shook his head, smirk vanishing. "No. We need to get in to the building. Stahl, you need to report as expected. Maldonado is waiting for you. And right now, the less she knows about my presence, the better. We really just want to get in, figure out what they want and get out again."
Both Dorian and Stahl gave him a look. It was never that easy. He rolled his eyes. "Alright, we want to get in, kill as many of them as we can, try not to destroy the building and get out alive." He blinked and returned the look. "Better?"
Dorian grinned, nodding and Stahl mirrored the action. He rolled his eyes again. "Unbelievable..." Turning, he made for the backseat of the patrol car, grabbing his rucksack. Once it was over his shoulder, he started for the entrance that he and Dorian had chosen to be their starting point. He stopped once and gave Stahl a surprisingly sober look. "Be careful in there, alright? We have no idea what to expect. We don't even know that they're going to hit tonight. This could all have been completely misunderstood and I'll wind up getting my ass thrown in jail."
She nodded, offering a shy smile. Good man, good cop. He would take care of his own until his dying breath. "I'll be careful, John. You too. Oh.." She dug into her messenger bag (because purses were too small and she kept everything in her messenger bag) and pulled out several sheets of paper. "I think you two might actually be right on this. I really do. I talked more with Jacob." Which was why she'd been late getting to the precinct.
"Jacob?" John asked, brow furrowing. He accepted the papers as she handed them over and glanced them over. They were clearly a written statement. He skimmed over what had been written. It was her elegant script, and at the bottom was what appeared to be a young boy's signature.
Stahl nodded. "Yeah. The boy. Without any visitors, he's gotten lonely in the hospital. I guess he expected them to come visit and rescue him." She didn't need to explain who them was. John nodded. "And since it was just me going to see him every day, he finally opened up to me. Told me what they'd done to him. To the others." She didn't mention the fact that as close to Christmas as it was, it was breaking her heart that no one had been in to see him.
John sighed softly, pinching his nose. "Like they do to the kids in the Middle East? Brainwash and train 'em early, make 'em believe that they're doing what they're doing for the greater good?" She nodded and his expression darkened. "Do we know how many there are?"
"Not really, no. They're like little sleeper cells. No one knows about the other. The kids are all brought in individually." She made a face. "They'll kidnap several at a time, but they're 'trained' separately. Jacob knew there were other children, but nothing about them personally."
It made sense. The boy had no doubt heard the other kids, but without faces, they couldn't identify anyone. "Was he able to identify any of the adults who 'trained' him?" John asked quietly.
Again, Stahl shook her head. "He was drugged and they all wore those white face masks. He said he knew some were women and some were men, but not enough to be able to pick them out in a line-up."
Frustration burned bright in John's chest. Damn. Without that, they were still unable to finger anyone in the organization. He wanted to ask if Jacob had seen anyone with hair like Anna's, but she would have changed it. Two years. Surely in that time, she would have done something different to make herself less noticeable. And he didn't want to bring up his affiliation with someone who operated on the inside. Not to Stahl. He skimmed the boy's report, and then tucked it into his rucksack, nodding. "Alright. You get inside. Don't want you late. You'll wind up with a reputation like mine."
Stahl chuckled and nodded. "Alright. Be careful, boys. I'll see you on the inside."
He didn't watch her go in. He didn't watch her disappear behind the door. He did, however, have to endure the ribbing by Dorian. "Be careful, John." The DRN chirped, mimicking the brunette detective. It was creepy and eerie and John turned to give him a look.
"Don't do that. Ever." He waved a hand and rolled his eyes, disturbed by just how easily Dorian read them both. "Just don't. That's creepy."
Dorian laughed softly and followed John through the service entrance. They'd need to climb several flights of stairs before they reached the main floor. Avoiding the elevator was an unfortunate necessity. At the first flight of stairs, the DRN piped up. "Hey John, this is just like the Sanderson building!"
John snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Let's hope the same shit doesn't happen here. We don't need to deal with that."
Dorian paused at the first landing, blue lights flickering along his cheek as he processed something outside of their sphere. John, not hearing Dorian immediately behind him, stopped and turned. "What?"
"John, I'm getting emergency calls. They're coming into the precinct." The DRN furrowed a brow, listening to each call that came in.
"Yeah, so, this building does house Dispatch." And those unlucky bastards were going to be working. Much like the beat cops.
"No, you don't understand. These calls are coming from both beat cops and civilians. I'm getting reports of officers going down and MX's being disabled." He blinked, eyes widening. It was clear that both of their worst fears were quickly being confirmed. His voice took on a slightly astonished tone. "They're starting already, John. Something's going on outside. Region Gamma is reporting widespread violence. John, they're not just hitting here. They're hitting everywhere."
And they truly were. All over the city, beat cops were being systematically distracted from their duties. Young, seemingly innocent children were stopping the uniforms to ask for help. Lost and needing help finding their parents, ran away from home and needed help, someone was chasing them; the list was endless. And in each one, the child pulled the beat cop away from where they'd been patrolling. They escorted the young child to their requested destination, as per protocol, only to be overtaken by an awaiting member of Insyndicate, where the beat cops met a grisly demise. And the few who attempted to just return the child to a car or to the precinct to locate parent or guardian, were tazered by the child. It was a brutally efficient attack. Calculated. Clearly it had been well-planned.
It was standard procedure that had an MX unit partnered with a cop, regardless of their rank. They'd made it mandatory following the fabled Ambush, Case #34P-C91244, two years prior. When an anonymous call was picked up by dispatch, it set off a chain reaction. Somewhere within Region Delta, a pulse was activated, disabling the active MX units on the spot. They dropped as though an unseen puppeteer had cut the strings, leaving them impotent and empty-eyed wherever they happened to fall.
The emergency calls doubled. And then they tripled. Soon the lines were overwhelmed with panicked citizens, calling about the disabled MX units and the cops themselves, forced to work on Christmas Eve. Whatever was happening, it was happening fast.
And that's when the device was detonated in City Region Beta's Precinct. Undermanned and utterly at the mercy of Insyndicate's bloodthirsty wrath, the precinct and all within were reduced to little more than a smoking crater in the earth.
Panic reached epic proportions on both a civilian and law enforcement level.
John, staring wide-eyed at Dorian and listened to what he could before word came across about City Region Beta's demise. "Son of a bitch. We gotta go. Now!" He turned, not even bothering to wait for Dorian and took the stairs two at a time. He was thankful he'd thought enough to put his prosthetic on the charger overnight. He was going to need all the strength it could give him.
They reached the stairwell door and John practically ripped it open. He didn't care anymore about his damned career. Or his freedom. They hadn't gotten word about City District Alpha, or Gamma beyond the widespread violence. He wasn't going to take the chance that Delta was next to be decimated. He could hear Dorian behind him as they bolted toward Maldonado's office.
And then he skidded to a stop. Dorian damned near plowed him down, but managed to catch himself before they both spilled out onto the bullpen floor. The MX units lay like broken bodies about the large, open room. And standing outside of Maldonado's office on the landing overlooking the bullpen, were both Stahl and Maldonado. John recognized a couple of the beat cops that were assigned to Delta, that were kneeling alongside the two women.
Hostages.
Pacing around the desks of the bullpen were several white masked individuals. They were clearly heavily armed. Maldonado looked pissed.
"It's Christmas Eve," she was saying. The vein in her forehead was visible even from the distance John and Dorian were from their gathering.
"And we'll welcome in the new year with a New World Order." One of the white masks told her. The smirk was evident in the voice.
John turned, meaning to gesture to Dorian. To have him circle around so that they could take out the white masks. But they weren't alone. He opened his mouth to warn Dorian, who was turning to see what it was John was looking at. John knew he wouldn't be fast enough to disable the white mask, but Dorian was inhuman in his speed and strength. Moving quickly, Dorian subdued the attacker, though not before being shot with an electromagnetic device.
As the DRN fell limp and useless beside the white mask, John moved to unmask the person. He could use that information later, though knowing Insyndicate, they'd either alter his appearance or kill him outright. He'd seen too many mutilated bodies with Insyndicate markings floating along the river or in shallow graves. There were always replacements that would fill the place of those left behind.
John shook Dorian, growling softly. He had to be careful, though. They were still too close to the epicenter to give themselves away. "C'mon, Dorian, wake up.."
But it was to no avail. Dorian had missed the pulse that had disabled the MX units, due to his unique physiology and makeup. But not the electromagnetic burst that had been delivered. He sighed softly and tried to drag the DRN into one of the nearby offices. If they didn't blow the building all to hell, at least Dorian would be safe. Sweaty and exhausted, because the DRN was damned heavy, John slipped back out and started back toward his vantage point. They'd gone undetected, which was a minor miracle. But how much time he had to act was another story.
Moving quickly, he kept as close to the shadows as he could and set his rucksack down behind a stand of fake plants. For probably the first time, Kennex found himself thankful that some idiot had thought it pleasant to use the bushy fake plants. He hated them, normally. Dust magnets and they generally housed families of spiders. But for the moment, they gave him the needed cover for him to pull out his sidearm and his spare. Locked and loaded, he judged the situation, trying to find the weakest point. He'd need to draw the fire to give the others time to get away and get armed. And while he didn't really feel like being shot, it was pretty much a foregone conclusion.
There...
He watched two of the white masks as they moved. There was an opening that he could take advantage of, and even use one or both of the white masks as shields should the others open fire. And they would, he was sure.
Moving quickly, he couldn't afford to truly think, and he took out first one and then the other. Single shots, to their backs, and the two white masks went down. At that moment, he didn't care if he killed anyone wearing a white mask. They were doing what they could to decimate the law enforcement in the city. They deserved what they got. He used one of the bodies as a shield and fired on a third white mask.
But at the reports of gunfire, they flooded the room. He'd sorely underestimated their forces in the building. Figuring the organization to be predictable and leave the bomb in Delta, destroying it too, he hadn't anticipated them actually using it as a base of operations. He was overwhelmed quickly. Fire and sharp pain bloomed along his side, and shoulder. Hits. Damn it. His prosthetic screeched again, registering damage. He shoved the body-shield away from himself and awaited his demise.
That was when he saw her. She was even more gorgeous than his memory could have supplied. Light mocha skin that seemed to glow from within was framed by soft, dark curls. She'd changed her hair. He blinked, realizing he was probably going to bleed out from the wounds. But that didn't matter. None of it mattered. He'd failed. They were going to take over and he'd done nothing more than give them another dead body to take away. His eyes narrowed. John didn't have words to express his betrayal. She'd set him up to die and then left him when he needed her most. Advancing slowly, she carried what looked like a semi-automatic pistol. Beautiful and deadly.
And then she smiled. And it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. "Hello again, John. You look good for a dead man." Her voice was lyrical and mesmerizing. Meanwhile, John was fighting to stay upright and not slip in the blood pooling beneath him. But he found he was slipping away due to blood loss and shock, and he questioned his sanity. Though, he didn't question it for long. The one soul who had haunted his dreams almost as much as watching Pelham die over and over was slowly advancing on him.
And before he lost consciousness, the bitch belted him across the face.