෴Midnight෴
෴Hex෴
෴Wraith෴
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
Interrogation Techniques
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
Before Midnight’s caravan of metal pods had reached its destination in the rural northern mountains of Georgia, Wraith was already digging into every piece of technology Hex could get to him in his new mobile office.
She scanned over the paper lists of jobs and locations while Wraith sat back in an office chair, his eyes closed, but jerking back and forth in a way that looked very much like REM sleep.
“Damn. So many jobs and clients. These guys were busy. Wraith, lets narrow things down and clear as much—”
“I’ve found it.” Wraith said, his serene voice a low humming bass in the trance-like state of his intense immersion.
A nearby screen lit up, displaying a long list of clients. The list rapidly pared down till only a few clients were left. Wraith opened his eyes and smiled.
“And this is probably who we’re looking for.”
“What am I looking at?” Hex asked.
“I’ve pared the list down by matching funds tracking and connection type and origin. Most of this stuff is heavily encrypted. I won't be able to decode it in a reasonable time. But it turns out they didn’t secure their communication logging, and their offshore banking solution was vulnerable to a sideband attack vector. This let me create a cross refer—”
She held up a hand to stop him there. “Whoa whoa, that is really cool, but I don’t need all the details. Get to the point while I’m young.”
Wraith turned to her and ran a hand through his close-cropped afro. “Fine, fine, I did lots of investigative tech magic to find all this. It would be very impressive if you cared. In the end, I filtered out all the hits commissioned by governments around the world.”
He sighed and shook his head. “With as many off-books hit jobs from world governments just to this company, it’s amazing there’s any peace at all. Anyway, then I filtered out NGO’s that are known and probable fronts for governments. That left me with a very short list,” he pointed to the screen. “And you’ll notice that only one of them has jobs in the last three years.”
She smiled, “Now we’re getting somewhere. So all we need to know is who this customer hash mark indicates.”
He smiled. “They made all payments with cryptocurrency.”
Her shoulders slumped as she let out a groan. “So it’s untraceable.”
He burst into uproarious laughter.
Hex watched his antics, her expression betraying her irritation. “Clearly I’ve amused you.” She said in a frosty tone.
He saw her face and quickly got himself under control. “Sorry, sorry, you’re pretty tech-savvy, so I forget sometimes that you’re not actually deep into this stuff. Crypto is not all created equally for anonymity. But people seem to think it’s all anonymous, and I guess they thought so too. The transaction came from a personal crypto wallet. I’ve got you a name, associated businesses, and an address.” He pointed at the nearby printer as it started to hum and warm up.
Her eyes widened in an expression of predatory glee. “Yes! That’s what I’m talking about.”
She picked up the printout. “Hmm, Martine Industries. Never heard of it.”
He beckoned the pages, still coming out of the printer. “I’m including a bit of a dossier packet for you. I can make you a thorough analysis, but that would take days. The headline is that it’s a multinational holding company. Fingers in a whole lot of pies. The picture on page three is the CEO and principal stakeholder.”
Hex turned to a picture that was a clear photo op, showing Reginald Martine accepting an award and handshake from a former US President.
He paused, his entire body frozen for a moment. “Oh, I see.”
“What!? What do you see?” Hex exclaimed with curious irritation.
“Sorry, I'm not used to having someone here while I work. Big-time lobbyist action. This guy has just put a staggering amount of money and influence into anti-enhanced legislation both here and worldwide.”
She scanned the printed pages. “Hmm, so he’s willing to make currently living people illegal. Anything else I should know about proto-Hitler here?”
He opened his eyes and shrugged. “Probably a lot, but nothing you need to know.”
She turned away in anger, but then snapped back to staring at his face. “There are… Some people I know use that kind of logic to avoid telling me things. What do you mean by that?”
He shrugged and raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Nothing much, I just mean, guy’s super rich, and a reclusive, but still semi public figure. He lives in New York City. Rarely leaves his headquarters. I could go on for days about him. You want me to go over the way he transformed a mid-sized importing business into the megacorp it is now? I can do that. I could tell you the story about the death of his childhood friend that he uses to justify his anti-enhanced political stance.” Wraith shrugged and threw his hands in the air. “I’m just saying, I don’t think any of that is stuff you need to know.”
As he spoke, the tension in Hex’s shoulders eased. “Ok, just checking. Lately, I’m getting a little touchy about partial reveals.”
He nodded. “You’re the boss. You tell me you want the full 2000 page document with every single thing I can dig up about him and his company, it’s yours as fast as I can get it to you. I’m trying to give you what you need without overwhelming you with trivia.”
She squeezed his shoulder with warm familiarity. “Thanks, Wesley, I really appreciate you. I don’t mean to snap, I’m just so stressed out right now. Laters.” She gave him a tired half-smile and vanished before he could reply.
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
The aspect re-appeared in the North Georgia mountains just in time to see Midnight’s safe house employee pulling in.
Hex searched her mind for the name, “Jill, right?”
The woman nodded and smiled. “Yep! I hear I’ve got another leg to deal with.”
Hex looked up and spotted the cruciform shaped series of pods with Midnight at the head. The group came in for a landing and gently lowered to the asphalt. She looked back at Jill.
“Honestly, I don’t know that he needs anything more than for you to stabilize him. I doubt this patient has much time left.” Hex said in a dark tone.
Midnight beckoned them over.
When they reached him, he was speaking to his prisoners. The pods had been arranged in a loose circle facing inward. Each of them was standing up, with the prisoners upright. Each of the men’s faces was uncovered, able to see the rest of them.
“Most of you have a chance at another life. The rest can—”
One man cut off his offer with a stream of threats and profanity.
Midnight gave him a moment to vent before gagging him with a metal ball gag. “Don’t do that again. No more warnings” was all he said before removing the ball gag and resuming his offer.
“Two of you are needed elsewhere, but the rest of you can have a—”
The same man started yelling over him again.”
Midnight shrugged. “Ok, noted.” The faceplate sealed up
“He’s got just enough air in there to either get his act together, or not. Anyone else want to try me?”
They all shook their heads vehemently.
Seeing Jill, Midnight opened McAvoy’s pod and laid him on the ground. She approached him carefully, like a wild dog more likely to bite than bark. As Midnight spoke his piece to the others, she sealed up the cauterized stump of his leg.
A few minutes later, Jill was inside working with Chris, and Midnight was chatting with Hex, looking skeptically at the two that had accepted his offer, and the three that had other fates in store.
They walked over toward the building, far out of earshot as Midnight went on about his next moves.
Hex gave him a moment before her excitement got the better of her. “Stop! I get it. Deliver McAvoy to Sasha and Paolo, drop that pod in the ocean. That doesn't matter! I have news! Wraith found out who financed the hit on you!. We need to cut out the root of this problem, not get hung up on middlemen.”
He looked at her, his gaze intense. “Go on.”
“Read for yourself.” She handed him the stapled printout.
He skimmed the document. “Why is this name so familiar? Doesn’t matter I guess. Either way, I need to have a word with this man.” His tone grim.
He took a breath and then looked at the setting sun. “Need to get more livestock out to Mercator. Gotta Find Raz.”
She nodded. “Yeah yeah, you don’t have time for this.”
He smiled wanly. “Hey, that’s my line.”
She looked at the pods, then laid a hand on his shoulder and sighed. “You’ll probably think less of me, and we’ll need to call Sasha to know for sure, but from a waste-not, want-not sort of perspective, I’ve just had a terrible idea.”
She told him her idea.
He nodded. “If Sasha allows it, I’ll probably do that. I need to do that first. Every day I don’t leave food for him has me worried.”
She nodded. “Sorry I complicated things the other day.”
He shrugged, the movement rippling in his heavy armor. “It was a learning experience for me too. Mercator’s spatial control over the region is a lot stronger, and larger, than I thought. I’m just glad you’re ok.”
She nodded. “Thanks, that’s good to hear. I’ll be alright. Maybe with this address, we can finally get to the root of it all.”
He smiled a tired, tight expression. “I’d like that. I need to gather as much information as I can while I still have time.”
Her eyes narrowed. “We need to talk about that. Soon. For now, where do you want to meet in New York? I only have a few landing spots there that are safe.”
He glanced over at the pods full of prisoners then back to her. “Are any of them on rooftops?”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
She smirked. “Actually, they all are. One of the few places that don’t change too much,” she glanced at McAvoy’s pod. “Did you get much from him?”
“A lot of tears and begging. Other than that, nothing you and Wesley didn’t.” He clenched a fist and drove it into his open hand with a clang. “Oh yes. I thought I was going to have to dissect McAvoy to get the truth, but he caved way too easily.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Dissection? Sounds serious.”
His expression twisted into a furious snarl as his armor abruptly morphed into a large, menacing, spider-esque shape, framing him with hundreds of razor-tipped tools and prehensile limbs snapping and waving hypnotically in the nonexistent breeze. “I could peel him like an orange and it would be nothing more than he deserves.”
She took a quick step back from the frightening visage. “Ok yeah, that’s a little scary. But you weren’t going to dissect him for real, though. What if he called your bluff?”
Midnight smiled with lots of teeth. Something about the silver-gray streaks in his hair and his wide, toothy grin called to mind a hungry wolf. The rapacious smile was nowhere near reaching his intense blue eyes. “I guess you’re right. I wasn’t going to dissect him. When you’re still alive, it’s called vivisection.”
෴Raz෴
෴Ingrid෴
෴Braithwaite෴
෴Candace Remington෴
෴Reginald Martine෴
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
Berzerk
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
The girl kept talking. Her noise was almost as annoying to his ear as her form was pleasing to his eye. He didn’t have time to be distracted by her noise or body.
His heartbeat rang in his ears like drums of steel. Raz struggled against a river of rage threatening to sweep him away.
CRUSH THE ENEMY.
Through the red haze pounding in his veins and mind, Raz curled his hand into a ‘C’ shape and formed a brilliant, steady cutting arc between his thumb and forefinger.
KILL THEM ALL.
He moved the arc over the cuff, cautiously cutting into the silver cuff.
It’s not fast, but—BECOME WRATH!—at least I can cut them this way. I didn’t get to test the cutt—DESTROY!—ing arc as much as I—THEY TOOK HER!— would have liked. I can cut thr—THEY MUST SUFFER!—ough the cuffs and get out of h—TOO SLOW!—ere.
Ignoring his steaming hot breath and crimson flushed skin, Raz kept cutting himself free. With the part of him that had already given himself over to the frothing rage within, he was barely hanging onto his rationality by a thin fraying thread. He poured all he had into staying highly focussed on the pure arc of electricity carving through the metal that was getting hotter by the second. The Might within him crackled and surged with a compelling pressure.
Bee, I could use some help here. This madness inside me is starting to win.
[Yes, the best course of action is—TO BREAK THESE BONDS AND KILL THEM ALL!]
Et tu, Bee?
In that moment of distraction, a drop of molten silver fell from the cutting arc. It solidified in the air, landed in the hollow of his collarbone and sat there burning his skin. He instinctively activated Recovery as soon as he felt the burn, but the sudden addition of a sharp burning pain to his river of fury was too much. The instant his focus wavered, Raz was gone.
*** *** ***
Something on His wrist. Hot. Annoying. Holding Him down. Holding Him back.
NO.
He slammed His hands down. One hand broke free from the infuriating restraint with a high pitched pinging sound as shards of metal launched into the room and bounced off the walls. The other cuff held. He looked at the wall and cable, then forced His arm out against its grip. Shiny metal shrieked, then groaned as the cable tore free from the wall mount.
He stood. The girl was there. She talked again in a familiar sounding language He didn’t understand.
Words. More meaningless words.
She was attached to the wall. A prisoner. The very word prisoner fueled His endless anger. Maybe the girl wants to be free. Why doesn’t she just break out of these annoying bonds? Is she also a prisoner?
NO.
He seized the cuff in one hand, the cable in the other, and tore them asunder. His hands were suddenly covered in something wet and red leaking from His fingers.
Where did this sticky red stuff come from? It doesn't matter. He repeated this action on the second cable and cuff, then turned away from the girl’s fear filled eyes.
Facing the door, He saw her. The rage within stuttered and faltered in the face of such deep despair. The drum-like heartbeat pounding rampant madness slowed. Then He took in the blood, and her awful stillness.
The song of Might resumed, louder, more insistent. He tore into the box, an orgy of destruction to reach her.
With her cradled against Him, the deathly stillness was all the more plain. He picked her up and approached the door. Sounds of words from behind Him. None of it made sense so He paid it no mind.
The door resisted Him. He set His feet and pulled. A battle of passion, rage, and flesh against cold, hard metal commenced. His body broke, failed, and repaired itself in a hundred small ways as He twisted on the locked hatch handle. The door gave way with a low groan of shearing metal and fell open.
Two men in uniforms with weapons stood outside. He looked at the weapons with a flash of disdain. The girl behind Him said more words. He didn’t understand or care. One of them had a beard. The bearded man raised his weapon. That He understood. Slowly, far too slowly, the man brought his pathetic weapon to bear. With contemptuous ease, He whipped the cuff and cable out with a popping sound. The cable whipped forth and blasted through the man’s chest in a silent explosion, a spray of blood and viscera.
He tasted and smelled the bloody spray that covered Him. It tasted like victory. He spit out a shard of bone as He stepped forward and yanked the weapon from the other man. This weapon was pointless, so He smashed the man with his own weapon. The clean-shaven face disintegrated under the Mighty blow. A fountain of blood sprayed upward. Teeth, bone, and brains hit the wall beside the dead man, each making a distinctive wet splattering sound as they hit the concrete. None of that mattered to Him.
Further down the passage, another man appeared with a similar weapon. The man hid behind a pillar and raised the weapon as He charged forward over the dead men.
He pointed at the man as a strange symbol appeared there. Instantly, a dazzling blade of light flashed between them. He felt nothing but the man and his weapon exploded into flame and blood.
The passage went on. He continued forward, careful only to carry her with the tenderness she deserved.
More men with weapons. Loud sounds and small flashes of light. Something struck His stomach in a spray of blood. It didn’t matter. With infinite care, He set her down, heedless of the buzzing sounds filling the air around him. He looked at them, then fired the blade of light at them. This time, He was the light.
Instantly, He was among them. A lash with the bloody cable shredded those on His left. The blade of light from His right hand ended those that remained.
He looked back at her. The girl was next to her. This was good. Perhaps the girl can protect her.
He was faced with a new barrier. The alien words vault door flitted through His red-stained consciousness before vanishing like snowflakes in a furnace.
Instinctively He knew His Might would not prevail against this mountain of steel. Above and below the oceans of His fire awaited. He called out to it, let out a summons to all the power He could feel.
From both above and below, far away and just below Him, seething energy answered the call. An incinerating blast of energy descended. Blowing through the building’s already overloaded grounding system, causing a linear series of explosions as every molecule in the path of destruction was instantly, violently, separated into component atoms. Somewhere above Him, Candace Remington looked at the white-hot column of superheated plasma surrounding the still hotter core within, shielded her eyes against the blinding light, and without hesitation, limped toward the beam.
In the instant before she could enter the annihilating column of White Fire, it shifted away, leaving her weeping and wailing at the edge of a sheared away concrete staircase. The beam carved a path around the center of the building, briefly intersecting a man using metal exercise equipment. Reginald Martine vanished in a puff of multicolored plasma, never knowing what killed him.
Far below, He knew none of this, just that He had called, and the power had answered.
He bared His teeth in a maniacal savage grin while His hands and forearms sizzled and smoked, directed the searing blade of energy on the barrier before Him. The heavy reinforced door soon fell to the sweeping strikes of a pulsing blade hotter than the sun.
He turned and rode the light back to her. The girl was there. She looked at Him with an expression He didn't try to read. With her back in His arms, He jumped through the light once more and passed through the fallen remains of the thick steel doors.
Just ahead He could see sunlight pouring in through vast walls of glass. Instinctively, He sought after the light and headed that way.
A tall man in a long white coat stepped into His path. Enemy! His mind shouted in a clarion call. ‘Braithwaite’ a dimmer part of Him whispered. The drumbeat of rage intensified. Something unseen knocked Him to the floor. He tried to get up and was knocked to the ground again, harder. Each time He moved to rise, invisible blows struck Him again and again,driving Him into the concrete floor.
Dimly, He noticed the girl sneaking past, her form cloaked in shadow despite the brightly lit area. She seemed to know where she was going. He tried to stand, to follow her toward the sunlight. Under a new hail of impacts, His vision darkened around the edges. The pulsing rage started to fail.
His body started going limp, His head lolled under the rain of blows and turned away from the man. There she was. Her body was crushed and broken under the same unseen attacks. Hands he’d held, broken and torn. Her smiling eyes and lips He remembered, now a bloody ruin.
The pounding, ringing drumbeat of fire within returned with a vengeance. Amid the deluge of impacts holding Him down, He rode the light. Appearing before the man, He stuck at the enemy with all his Might. The heavy blows seemed to have no effect. Each strike strong enough to cut furrows in steel harmlessly came to a stop at the man’s smirking face.
He roared, and sent a blade of light slicing at the man. The man fell into two smoking piles.
He picked up the crushed and broken shell that had been her, and continued toward the sunlight. Nothing else in the glowing, burning tower slowed Him down.
Other people were outside, some of them running away and screaming, others in uniforms pointing weapons at Him. He knelt on the rough black surface, and cradled her close.
People shouted words He couldn’t understand.
Feeling the utter wrongness in her shattered still form drove Him to His feet. A loud popping sound got His attention. The people in uniforms were attacking.
He didn’t need to accept this, and didn't. In a brilliant flash of light He rode the lightning straight up into the sky. There He gave her over to the storm, letting her ashes fall away from Him in the rapidly swirling air. Everything that wasn’t Him vanished into a puff of glowing plasma. With her given over to the light, the pulsing rage began to fade again.
A small part of Him saw the distant city street approaching and screamed in alarm. You’re falling out of the sky dumbass!
He looked down. The girl was now at the top of a building looking up at Him. He rode the light and appeared in front of her.
They stood a few feet apart, cautious, looking at each other for some sign of intention. She made more noises. These were soft, calming sounds. He almost understood them.
She pointed at Him and spoke, the girl seemed to be asking a question. He shook His head uncomprehendingly. He tried to take a step and staggered as His leg gave out under Him. The raging drumbeat grew softer still, leaving Him a hollowed out wreck. She gestured at a pile of clothing next to an empty basket and lifted her shirt off. He looked at the pile of clothing, unable to see why it mattered.
Now the girl was naked just like Him. She approached Him. He was wary, but let her get close. She ran her soft cool hands along His red flushed body, avoiding the healing open wounds and bigger bruises. He found her gentle touch soothing in a way He couldn’t articulate.
He finally noticed her nude form, and then His body noticed as well. She wrapped herself around Him, her softness pressing against everywhere He was hard. Another urgent drive rose in Him, supplanting the need to kill and destroy. Using slow, calming motions, she gently pulled Him down into the pile of damp clothing, her body open wide to receive Him.
What began with the remnants of blood lust and rage, slowly transformed into another form of lust, another form of madness.
There on the roof, on a pile of damp clothing, next to a critically damaged towering office building, Raz and Ingrid mated with an intense, animal ferocity that left them both breathless and sweaty.