CHAPTER EIGHT—THE HEAT

Jon took two steps into the apartment and stopped. Then he pulled back his jacket and unholstered his pistol.

Pointing it forward, he stepped slowly through the hallways. The door had been locked and Sosai was sitting in a cell.

Still…

It never hurt to be careful.

And there was something off about this place. It wasn’t something so much that he knew, but rather felt. A hunch if it were. He took another step forward, his sneakers quiet on the floors.

The kitchen door was to his left. He angled his pistol over the trim and looked inside, stepped over the threshold.

This place was a dive.

The floors were laminated with cheap industrial materials that had ripped up in several places. The counters were full of garbage, dishes, a bucket, some old pizza boxes.

He opened the fridge.

A catastrophe.

Closing it, he left the kitchen through the other side and peeked into the hall with his pistol at the ready. The hall crossed the kitchen and turned at a forty-five degree angle to the left, so he had no need to backtrack to check for other rooms.

This apartment was tiny.

Again on the left there was a door. That was the bathroom.

For now he skipped that he made his way toward the living room. It was dark though because of the shuttered windows. He flipped the light on and it buzzed to life with a flicker and a pop, leaving him in darkness once again.

But he had seen it.

The massive hole in the floor.

He reached for his flashlight, clicked it on and held it under his pistol. The hole in the floor was uncovered, a cover—and old board of synthetic sheet wood fibers. He took the steps leading down into this new basement area.

It was actually quite impressive that Sosai had dug this area out. It was cold down here and there were shelves everywhere with all manner of items. Most of it was junk, old tech, some weapons.

Jon poked at them a bit and realized they were not loaded.

An odd thing.

But there was a small energy pistol, not battery though. Still, maybe Maple could figure something out. He might as well take something in case he needed to replace his pistol for some reason. He stashed the energy pistol in his inner coat pocket.

A guy with a secret bunker would usually keep his guns loaded. The explosives were down here. He glanced around at the brick walls. They were old, part of the original ground space of this complex, but the new bricks that sealed it off were clearly visible, sloppily mortared together forming a straight wall.

Further in there was a desk and some computers.

According to Sosai’s notes, the explosives were in a hidden place somewhere within the walls. He had written the note for a friend and certain knowledge between the two had clearly been implied in the note, so Jon was hopping whoever that was hadn’t showed up to collect yet.

Finding the light switch, Jon turned it on and the place alighted with cold blue lights. He glanced around at the walls and saw a lot of posters and some maps. He touched a map on the left side. Brick was behind that.

He went to the next and pressed his finger to it. Same.

Then he went to the third and pushed his finger and the paper gave way.

Bingo, baby.

He tapped it with his flashlight and punched a hole through it. Then he clicked the flashlight off and put it away before ripping through the paper completely, where inside in the hollow of bricks, he found a black backpack.

Jon holstered his pistol and pulled out the bag, then he sat it on the desk. He unzipped it and lifted out the explosives.

He couldn’t help but whistle.

“Military grade stuff,” he muttered. “Nice!”

Glancing back to the little alcove, he noticed that the enclosure went back further and that the mortar on the wall seemed different here.

He kicked at near its base and he noticed the brick fell in easily. It was probably some kind of secret exit passage?

Suddenly Jon heard a noise and he jerked his gaze up toward the stairs and froze. Standing there for several moments, he listened.

It could have been nothing, or maybe a rat.

Still, he zipped the bag up and slung it on his back, then he took out his pistol again and listened.

The ceiling above that area creaked.

Someone was at the entrance.

Shit!

Jon kicked at the bricks and they fell through easily, then to speed up his progress he pummeled them with his free hand.

Something clattered down the stairs.

Flash!

He turned, shielding his eyes and ears just as it exploded.

Lifting his pistol, he fired off every round in the clip in quick succession toward the stares, then he barreled into the rest of the false bricks in the wall.

He fell forward in a grunt and plume of dust as cold air hit him from the new area he had uncovered.

Jon scrabbled to his hands and feet and yanked out his flashed light so he could see in the darkness there.

Moving forward he searched for an exit and pressed further in while behind he heard the pop and the bang of another flash grenade.

They were right behind him!

He took to his left and crouched under an air duct and kept moving.

Something flashed behind him.

A bar of light swung through the space.

Lifting his pistol, he fired a potshot behind him.

Whatever slowed them down was worth a proverbial shot, and apparently a literal one!

Breathing hard as his heart hammered inside his chest, Jon flung the bright corona of his light back and forth, searching desperately for a way out, when he spotted another air duct with the vent covering removed.

That had to be it.

He lunged forward, turned and squeezed off two more shots, the slide of his pistol racking back. He shoved it into his holster, swung the bag off his back and pushed it into the vent.

But which way?

Left or right?

Gritting his teeth he hissed, “Dammit!”

He chose the right path and shoved the bag forward with his left hand and then he crawled into the air duct. It was tight, but the duct was pretty large so he had enough room to move on all fours.

Wasting no time, he shunted the back in as he crawled forward. At the end of the duct there was a hump.

Suddenly a crack of gunshots went off and the sound of metal being punctured erupted behind him. He jerked with surprise and his head slammed into the metal above him.

With the sudden rush of adrenalin he barely felt it as he threw the explosives into the raised duct and jumped in. More bullets punctured the metal behind him.

Whoever was out there—and they seemed like spec ops cops if he had any say—they were definitely trying to take him out.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He pushed forward, and by Jon’s reckoning, unless they were planning to crawl into that vent with him, he was currently in a safe posture, as he had travelled far enough into the duct to pass the wall of bricks.

The metal took an abrupt forty-five degree turn to the left. He stamped down the duct and he saw light on the end. When he reached it, he found a grating leading out into the alley.

With blood throbbing into his ears and his skin damp with sweat, he grunted, leaning back as he lifted his leg and kicked at the grate. It shook and he kicked it again several more times, grunting with each effort. It came loose.

He kicked again and it fell off.

It was hard moving in the duct. He grabbed the bag and tossed it out, then he crouch-walked his way out. Once he was free of the duct in in the alley he stood up and glanced about.

A light from above provided a little light next to the air units on the side of the building. If those had been cops after him, they would probably be directing their back up to this area of the building right now.

Swinging the bag back over his back, Jon trudged through the narrow alley for a few hundred feet. It kept going, but also broke off to the right. Instead of taking the alley right, where that surely led back to the front of the complex where he’d be caught, he went straight, down some steps and passed a pile of trash.

The area opened up somewhat where several sets of steps and door clearly led into residential units. Not bad.

This area kept heading forward, but he broke left toward another set of stone steps leading to the streets. He ran up them and came out onto the sidewalk, then he bent over and caught his breath, wiped his mouth with the back of his fist.

“Not bad,” his partner said from behind.

His eyes shot open and he grabbed his pistol and turned, aiming the gun at her. She had been standing against the wall, waiting for him.

She had her pistol at hip height, pointed at him.

Ushiara smiled. “You’re empty, Jon.”

He looked at his gun.

“Toss it over.”

He looked at her.

“And when the perp rushed out the back,” she said, “I made to catch him out near the street, but when he drew on me, I was forced to take him down before I realized he was my partner.”

Shit.

And she would shoot him here.

He holstered the empty gun.

“Good choice,” she said, her eyes heavy-lidded and her straight hair falling to her shoulders.

Behind him, the sounds of freedom were all around as cars drove by and pedestrians strode past. Some them muttered in surprise and steered clear of them, but Ushiara Kenn couldn’t care less.

This was fortunately, she thought, and she lifted her coms unit to her mouth. “I got him. Come out back on the south side on the road.”

The coms unit blipped. “On the way.”

“So what’s this about?” Jon asked. “Why you holding me at gunpoint?” he jerked his chin at her. “Aren’t we partners?”

“Were,” she said. “But you’re tenacious, Jon. A little too tenacious. You were really onto something.”

“Like what? That you’re a dirty cop covering for corpo interests while they poison the Dregs?”

“Who?”

“Shit,” he muttered. “The red zoners.”

She shrugged. “I couldn’t give a shit about any of that or what their aims are.”

Jon turned, glancing at the road. He really wanted to get away.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“I could run,” he said.

“And I could shoot you.”

“In the back? That would look real good, right?”

She shrugged. “So I caught the perp making a run for it. He did shoot at us, so I shot him.”

“Fuck!”

She smiled.

The police cruiser with its engines revving high, appeared and came to an abrupt halt at the sidewalk. Two cops got out of the back still in their spec ops gear.

One of them whipped out an electrified baton.

“What?” Jon asked, spreading his hands, “you gonna taze me now?”

The electricity suddenly coursing through his body made his back arch and he grunted loudly. When the cop let off, the one behind him kicked his knee out from under him and he went down.

*

Mairu was sitting cross legged atop a flattened box while Nova paced back and forth. Koto watched her as he leaned up against the brick wall of the alley, uncertain as to how clean those bricks really wore, but standing around for hours on end waiting for Jon was starting to get tiring.

Outside on the street cars drove by, but these late at night, traffic was beginning to lessen, though it never really dropped off in this city that never slept.

Nova spread her arms. “Where is he?” She looked to Koto and he stared at her with an expressionist look. “Seriously,” she said. “The night is almost over.”

Mairu had her gun in her lap, but the bag was still covering it. “Maybe he ran into some trouble on the way.”

Nova sighed.

“Just be patient,” Koto said. “He did say the place was a couple hours away and he still needs to get back.”

Nova looked at her watch. “It’s been five hours.” She looked to Mairu, then back to Koto. “Five hours!”

“Should we call it off?” asked Mairu.

Nova sighed again.

She didn’t know what to do, and what did “calling it off” even mean—that they leave and get out of the green zone back through the sewers, or wait for Jon to arrive?

Koto watched Nova pace back and forth. He was feeling impatient too, but he often expressed his impatience in different ways. He was more internal, more reserved than she was. “Let’s give him another hour.”

“And then what?” Nova said.

“If he doesn’t show, we head back,” he said. “He knows how to find his way to us.”

“Head back?” Mairu asked, looking up at him. “But then that would mean…”

She left the rest unsaid.

“We don’t know that,” he said. “Karu has been sick for a while now.”

“Do you want to risk that?” asked Nova, the surprise on her face evident. “Do you want to be the one to tell Kawa that it was you who decided to head back without getting the medicine? We don’t even need Jon for this thing.”

He pushed off the wall.

“Right?” Nova continued.

“If we do this, our way out of here could be discovered,” said Koto. “That could put Jon in real danger.”

“He’s a big boy,” Nova said. She glanced to Mairu for support.

“Well…” she said musingly, “he is a cop.”

“Really?” Koto said, surprised at what he was hearing. “You want to do that to Jon? Stab him in the back?”

Nova made a noise of frustration and pushed her hands down to her sides. “Kota—we don’t owe him anything.”

“What are you talking about?!” he snapped.

Nova blinked.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s just… he came out here to help us, didn’t he? We owe him that.”

“Karu,” Nova said. “He’s going to die.”

She was probably right. Maybe he wouldn’t die tonight, but his fever had gotten a lot worse. He could still picture Kawa’s face in his mind, the concern and the tears and Karu moaned in his bed.

The fever was eating him up now. She had stayed behind to put cool cloths on his head and to watch him with the others. If they returned tonight without that medicine…

“All right,” he said. “If Jon isn’t back in an hour, we go in there without him.” Nova looked at him, then she stepped closer and put her arms around Koto. “It’ll be all right,” he said, patting her back.

She nodded. “I know—because we’re going to get that medicine, right?”

“Mhm.”

*

When they crossed through the checkpoint leading out of the green zone, Jon made comment, “This isn’t the way to the police department, Kenn. Where you taking me?”

“Keep your mouth shut and you’ll find out she said.

That had been thirty minutes ago.

Now they were rolling along an old cracked road along the river.

“What’s your plan?” he asked again. “Why are you”—he grunted from the pain of the electro cuffs chafing his wrists as he sat back on them—“why are you taking me out here?”

The cop next to him grabbed him by the arm and looked at him with a stern countenance as Kenn glanced back from the passenger seat in the rear view mirror. “I said you’d find out.”

“What’s the secret, anyway?”

“You’ll find out she said,” her tone flat.

Jon glanced at the cop on his left and considered head butting him in the nose. But then what? It wasn’t like he could get out of there with the cuffs on his hands.

Shit.

“Here’s good,” his partner said, and the driver slowed to a stop.

As she got out, the officer in the back with Jon also exited the vehicle. He came around and opened the door. “Come with me,” he said, grabbing him by the arm.

“Why?”

“Now.”

There was a grim quality to them all.

He got out of the cruiser. “So this is it, huh, Uchiara? This is where you’ll going to do, huh—you slimy bitch!”

“It’s nothing personal,” Jon. “But we can’t have rookies like you chasing up these trees. Hell, you’d probably take this to the press.”

“Like hell they would even listen!” he said. “Why are you doing this?”

“I have orders!” she snapped.

“Orders…” He lifted his chin. “From who?”

“From people you don’t want to know.”

“You’re not cop.”

She jerked her head and the officer holding him by the upper arm pulled him to the edge of the road. There was a steep hill leading down to the embankment of the river.

Jon glanced down, his heart beating in his chest like the pump of a shotgun. He swallowed, realizing this was it.

He wanted to scream.

But he didn’t. Instead he clamped down with his teeth as the officer went back to join his partner. She took two steps forward, put on some bio safety gloves and reached out. The officer dove into a plastic bag and fished out his fun and spare clip.

Jon nodded as she slammed the clip home, turned and shot two bullets into the ground about ten feet away.

He jerked at the sudden crack of those shots, even though he was ready for it, it startled him. Not because shooting startled him. Jon was well accustomed to shooting and being shot at.

But that he was about to be executed here.

He turned and glanced down the hill. He could run, but then what? Get shot in the back? There was no way he was getting out of this.

“You’re quiet, Jon.” She looked at the office. “Get the cuffs off him.”

“I’m just deciding how best to drive you insane after I come back to haunt your corrupt ass.”

She laughed. “Jokes,” she said with a contemptuous smile, and she shook her head. “Even at a time like this.”

The officer deactivated his restraints and stepped away.

It was then that Ushiara pulled back her black jacket. Her pistol hung at her side, just where Jon’s usually did.

She tossed his into the dirt, then she drew for the second pistol at her hip, the one she had prepared for this.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said.

She nodded sardonically. “That’s what they all say in the end.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “Do this very often, then?”

She shrugged. “A few times.”

“Well,” he said, trying not to stammer as the words came out. “Since you’re going to off me, can you at least tell me what this is really about?”

“Why?”

“You owe me that much.”

“I don’t know, Jon,” she said, sounding a bit frustrated that she was explaining it to him. “You figured out most of it.”

“The chemicals in the river?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are they trying to poison everybody out here?”

“Same old story,” she said. “Control. You think the powers that be want the gangs out here running wild? Jon—are you stupid? If they ever united, they could overrun the green zone in a matter of days.”

“Seems a little too simple.”

She smirked at him then.

“What?”

She shook her head. “It’s a hell of a lot worse than poison, Jon.”

“What do you mean? Tell me.”

She said nothing.

“Answer me! What is it? I’m a threat to their little plan—one fucking detective?”

“You’re not the first,” she said.

“What about the rest of the city? Won’t poisoning the water kill everyone?”

“Poisoning is the least of your troubles now,” she said, smiling contemptuously as she shook her head. “Damn, for a dead man you ask a lot of questions—you know that?”

“Fuck you.”

“No, Jon,” she said, raising the pistol.

Then she shot him once in the chest.

He flew backwards. When he hit the dirt, his body rolled and he grunted and rolled like a ragdoll, the pain in his chest exploding from the central point of impact, and then all went to black.

The crack of the shot echoed over the hills. Ushiara Kenn lowered the pistol and stepped forward. She looked down at the body of her dead partner in a heap at the bottom.

She nodded, satisfied.

He was dead.

It would look like he came out here and got into a confrontation. He managed to fire off some defensive rounds, but he was hit in the chest and killed.

She handed the pistol to the officer. “Dispose of this.”

He took the gun and she stepped back into the cruise.

“Where to?”

“Back to the green zone,” she said.