It was late in the evening. There wasn't much going on at the end of the North Beach subway line at this time of day, and it had been that way since the station was built some 120 years ago. Coastal residents, the vast majority of whom were wealthy, had no need to crowd into public transportation. The subway was mainly there to bring people to North Beach who worked for others and couldn't afford their own cars. At such a late hour, most of them had already returned to their small apartments in the other neighborhoods of Elysium.
He knew nothing about it. The only thing that mattered to him was that there were far fewer people on the platform now than at rush hour. The fewer there were, the better it was for his hunt. And the hunt was inevitable, because his pack had grown too big in a short time to feed only on the crocodiles, the big rats and other vermin in the sewers and subway shafts. Food was scarce, so they had to take the risk of attacking the large upper-worlders in their areas flooded with artificial light. It was hunger that left them no choice. None of the humans had noticed his dim eyes behind the grating of the wide cable shaft. He had been sitting there in a crouched position for about an hour, watching them and slowly realizing that the best time to attack would be just after a subway train had left. It would be some time before the next train arrived, which would further reduce the possibility of people escaping if they managed to block the stairway entrances. He looked down the shaft beside him. About 50 pairs of glowing eyes were focused on him. Tightly clustered, his pack sat waiting, beings upon beings with coal-black skin huddled together. They were waiting for him, the Alpha, to break through the bars and give the signal for the hunt to begin. The time had finally come. He stuck his fingers through the grate and pushed with all his might, breaking it from its moorings and throwing it forward.
There were five people on the platform who were startled by the loud clanking of the metal grating. The initial confused glances around for the source of the unpleasant sound quickly turned to sheer horror. One woman began to scream as she saw a horde of humanoid, naked creatures leaping out of the hole in the wall one by one. They were all no more than 1.50 meters tall and moved quickly and deftly on their hands and feet. Their appearance was downright disturbing. Their black, chapped skin, covered with blisters and cracks, their glowing eyes, and their grotesque movements made them look like shadows made flesh, like a horror story from days gone by. Their bodies were haggard and emaciated, muscles and tendons clearly visible.
As the hole in the wall spewed more and more of these hideous creatures, the first of them, already in a wild frenzy, ran toward the humans. The attack was too sudden for them to offer much resistance. Alpha himself was the one who had chased the last upper-worlder all the way to the stairs. The big man was fast and had thrown away his big bag right at the beginning so that it would not hinder him in his run. But he would not escape him. Alpha concentrated and felt the power coursing through his veins. He had no idea where it came from. It was nothing more than an old instinct that he followed. That power now discharged as all the atoms of his body simultaneously dematerialized in an inexplicable process, hurled through three-dimensional space and reassembled in front of the fleeing man about 50 meters from Alpha's previous location on the stairs. There was a popping sound as the air atoms at that location were shifted in a split second and Alpha appeared there. The fleeing man was scared to death as he realized that any hope of leaving this place alive was in vain. Everything happened very quickly and the screams of the people went unheard deep underground.
A few kilometers from the subway station, Ralph parked the agency car in a small side street. With the old, slightly dented middle-class car, they would have immediately attracted negative attention among all the expensive limousines at their destination. That's why they decided to walk the last few hundred meters. For a few weeks now, TRAP even had a real police car, which Ralph had been able to secure after the incident at the intersection when they had hijacked the van from Wiener Productions. After the raid on Taiyō Electrics, he had returned to that car and then taken it to a parking lot in an abandoned warehouse not far from their Downtown headquarters. Although this car was of course much more modern and in better condition than the agency's car, they obviously could not have gone to the harbor in the patrol car without attracting unwanted attention.
Yuri, Harry, Abigail and Yanny got out. For the last three it had become quite cramped in the back of the Ford during the ride, despite the petite stature of the two ladies. Abigail wore an elegant red evening gown, Yanny a black one, the gentlemen each a classic tuxedo.
"Well, take care of yourselves," said Ralph, who remained behind the wheel and now lit a cigarette. "And if you steal any silverware, remember to wrap it in a handkerchief so it doesn't rattle on the way out." Yuri stretched a little and looked between the row of houses at the calm sea, its surface glistening in the moonlight. Then he gave a thumbs up in Ralph's direction.
"It will be all right. Or as they say in my homeland with old wisdom: *If you smash skulls on sea, soon fat bear will dance,*" Yuri lectured with a grumble.
"Oh God, no more of these sayings!" groaned Abigail in exasperation, while Yanny chuckled softly. "How do you even come up with such nonsense?" Yuri then made a slightly offended face and checked the pistol that was hidden, as usual, in the back of his pants on his belt. He had wrapped a matching silencer for the gun in silver paper and put it in his jacket pocket disguised as a cigar. Since the injury to his shoulder had healed completely, he was fortunately able to reach his back without restriction. The ladies had a little more difficulty smuggling some equipment on board in their tiny handbags. Abigail had come up with the idea of attaching a small dagger to the top of the lace band of one of her stockings. It made her feel more secure. Carla Brandon had assured them that the bodies of invited guests would not be searched for weapons by the guards, but better safe than sorry. Yuri, on the other hand, was once again taking great risks with his pistol.
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"We'd better get going, then," Harry said, tapping the green roof of the car. "Just wait for us somewhere nearby and we'll signal when we're back on land," he told the punk. "We'll just find a phone booth and call you."
"Gotcha!" confirmed Ralph. "Lots to do around here this time of night. Best corner in all of Elysium," he grinned.
"Stay sober!" Abigail called out to him with a slightly stern undertone.
"Of course, Madame!" he said with a laugh, starting the engine and waving back to Yanny, who had waved goodbye to him. As the four of them made their way to the yacht's anchorage, Yanny whispered to Harry, "I hope the ship is really safe. Because I can't swim..." Harry thought about the remark. Actually, they hadn't considered that before they had decided to take the cyborg on this mission. Her metal skeleton would drag her to the bottom of the sea like a rock in an emergency.
"What happens if you really go under?" he asked worriedly.
"If it's not too deep, I can walk along the bottom to the shore," she replied, looking at him as they walked side by side.
"What if it's too deep? What exactly would be too deep?" asked Harry. You could tell by the tone of his voice that her vague explanation wasn't enough for him. Abigail and Yuri walked ahead of them, their ears pricked up by the conversation. Yanny seemed to think for a moment, listening inwardly.
"At about 40 meters, it becomes extremely dangerous for my organic components, just like for humans. At 100 meters, it should also become problematic for the rest of my functions due to the pressure and the salt water. But that's just a rough estimate, I don't want to test it," she explained, smiling at him. He cleared his throat and looked away from her enchanting eyes as a gentle breeze caressed her hair. The heavy scent of the sea was in the air, mingling with her subtly fruity perfume.
"This... um..." he began the sentence, trying to concentrate. "The sea isn't that deep here near the coast, and the Sea Lord won't go out too far tonight. It won't be deeper than 30 meters. You don't have to worry about that."
"Thank you," she said quietly, and then after a few moments, "But now it's my turn to ask if you're nervous. Actually, I should be much more worried about you, shouldn't I?" He paused, noticing that his mouth was going dry. When Abigail, Yuri and he had divvied up the tasks for this mission, Yanny had become noticeably quieter at headquarters, seeming rather depressed. The others had interpreted it as a kind of stage fright before her first big task. Yanny was supposed to be a distraction. She conformed to a classical ideal of beauty to a high degree and could quickly draw attention to herself when needed. On the other hand, she had also studied human anatomy and the medical field and would assist Harry in the ring corner. In fact, Harry had been chosen to kill the bodyguard in the tournament finals and had already received the tag from Carla by messenger. It fell to Abigail to mingle with the crowd and get enough information about Dennis Dexter's movements on the ship, as his wife would have been too conspicuous as an informant. She would have her own hands full as a hostess. Yuri, on the other hand, was destined to deal directly with Dexter at just the right moment.
"I'm nervous, yes," Harry answered her question honestly. "You have to have respect for every opponent, every fight could be your last. Respect... But not fear."
"I want to do everything I can to help you," she whispered so quietly that only he could hear, fiddling slightly nervously with her dress. "I have..."
"Over there, look!" Yuri interrupted, pointing to the harbor scene that had become visible as they rounded the corner. There she lay, the Sea Lord. One of the most beautiful, modern, and, at 160 meters long and 25 meters wide, one of the largest yachts Elysium's shipyard had ever produced. Its four circular decks were brightly lit, giving the ship a majestic glow that was almost surreal in the darkness of the night. Hundreds of people gathered around a red carpet. There were many camera crews and reporters present, and a flurry of camera flashes washed over the celebrities and wealthy personalities. They strolled down the Walk of Fame, their bodies sculpted by private fitness trainers, and made their way to the ship. Fancy dresses, fashionable hairstyles, expensive jewelry, pearly white mouths grinning into long camera lenses or giving short interviews into tabloid microphones stretched out in front of them. The TRAP team watched this spectacle for a few minutes until Harry spotted the beginning of the runway. "We need to get over there, get your VIP passes ready." Abigail looked down at herself in her fancy but still comparatively simple dress.
"Guys, I hate to say it, but compared to the others we look like we were outfitted by a provincial costume shop," she said with a hint of disappointment in her voice.
"Come on, pretty lady, nipples don't cut themselves," Yuri grumbled at Abigail and then stomped off in the direction of security. The programmer was about to retort when she realized what the giant had just said.
"Ugh... you rude... horribly charming mountain of muscle..." she grumbled, hurrying to keep up with him. Harry and Yanny followed close behind.