Nine Lives - Ep7
#7 of Nine Lives
The subject is identified, but is in the wind somewhere with 3 captives.
Nine Lives - Ep7
"Where the hell is that boat being kept? We know it's on the river somewhere!" That was Cy, venting his frustration at twenty four hours of no results, even after we identified the person we were after. No sign of their car, no sign of their boat. Believe me, when a a big 'gator like Cy gets that frustrated the neighborhood is going to know about it. In detail. I'd heard, through my own grapevine, that Cy's visit to the gym over lunch had not gone well. He 'd gone down there for some bag work to blow off some steam and it had had the opposite effect. I'd got a txt from a contact of mine who happened to be in the gym at the same time before he got back.
"Man, that croc you working with is fucking crazy." It was accompanied by an image. You ever seen what a big strong alligator's jaws can do to a normal heavy bag? I have.
"Cy, at least we know where it was and we have photo references in the hands of the river police" That was Agent Warren, boss of the team the FBI had flown in to track our serial killer. Tell the truth though, that dobie looked about as ready to rip the throat outta something as Cy did. It was taking its toll on the entire team. The only one that seemed unaffected was Tony Corsa, the bear. Me, I was over the top and ready to pop an entire mag into anything that got in my way. At least the dobie was able to calm the 'gator down some.
Didn't mean we all didn't jump when the phone started ringing though.
It was Cronshaw, the otter in the river police.
"I think we found it. I don't think you are gonna like it though."
"It's moored in an abandoned grain dock. Guys, there's a whole disused elevator here"
"Shit, a complete shutdown industrial site?"
"Industrial site my waterproof ass. It's a grain elevator and bagging plant. Don't mess up your options in there, there's a lot of ways to die"
"Can you get close enough to positively ID the boat?"
"Unless you want your target to know we've found it, Agent Warren, no. One of my guys spotted it at the back of the old barge dock as we went past, or thought he did. We finished our patrol to the top of the pool and then made sure somebody was looking with the high-res camera when we came back downriver. It's the right shape, right size it's tarped and moored in a place where it's hard to see, has overhead cover and no private craft have any business being."
"Can you ping us the pictures from your camera?"
"Sure. On their way."
"Thanks." He hung up and looked around. "Callahan, Freeman, Get down there and check it out."
"Actually, Agent Warren, I think this ones on Sarah and I."
"Why?"
"Because we know that area, we don't drive vehicles that look like your bunch of Chevy Suburbans and we don't look like cops, either in dress code or body language. That last being the most significant. Look, if you send your guys in they'll have to park almost a quarter mile away from the place for their vehicle not to be obvious. It's seriously flat down there and the subject could potentially have a high vantage point. You'd get pegged as cops the moment either your vehicles or the way you move in that situation were spotted." I held up my paws as both Cy and Warren started to object. "I know, I know. But there are things you simply won't do, ways that by the book you have to operate and all your training drills that into you so deep that it shows. Trust me, guys. Every punk gang kid out there on the street can spot it. I can spot it. It even becomes more visible, not less, when you're walking into a situation that you know may be stressful or dangerous." Agent Warren still had objections.
"But you're ex-military, special forces if I read the gaps in your record correctly, and Sarah is both ex-military and ex-cop. Doesn't that show as much?"
"Yeah, I was special forces. Getting significant bits of my bod shot off taught me the value of not getting noticed. There's ways to do it by the book without looking like that's what you're doing. Sarah spent over a year undercover, explicitly not acting like a cop. What's more, since we started working together we've worked out a bit of a schtick that seems to work. Let us scout the place, Martin. You won't regret it."
"Get down there."
Sarah headed out immediately. I gave her five minutes then followed.
I wasn't kidding about the routine that Sarah and I had worked out. She'd get there first, park and get out like she was waiting for someone. I'd join her a few minutes later. We'd look for all the world like any other couple meeting up to grab a few minutes together. In this case, for a walk by the river. You'd need to get close enough to hear what we were talking about to know different.
We met up with a nice theatrical clinch.
"What you got?" I let my hands wander a bit, just to improve the visual effect. Yeah, right.
"No riverside path that leads anywhere useful. Two good approach routes from the front, Not sure how we can easily get a look at the back or the dock... And if you don't stop doing that we'll never get there!" I grinned.
"Gotta make it look real, babe." She suddenly got a truly wicked look in her eye and whispered a reply in my ear.
"You just gave me a perfect idea for getting a good look at the areas away from the road." She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the gate, towards the old dock. "Be ready to grab your phone and start taking pictures. You'll know when."
She headed right for the railing by the dock, where we were out of view of the road and couldn't easily be observed from the river either. I could see the boat we'd been told about off to her left, and thankfully its registration number was visible on the hull from this angle. She let go of my hand and leaned back on the railing, like she was posing. I grabbed my phone off my belt and she smiled, grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and flashed her tits at me. This was clearly payback for me teasing her earlier. In spite of the distraction I quickly got a couple of decent shots of the dock, the boat and the area behind the abandoned buildings. Then I grabbed a couple with her actually in the frame, but I wasn't going to be sharing those with the team.
She flicked her tail at me and ran for one of the sheds on the far side of the dock. Obligingly, I 'chased' her and we both disappeared through the half open door, letting it swing behind us. She'd chosen well, this shed had windows that allowed us a decent view of the whole area.
"Well," she said, "If anyone was watching us, I'd be willing to bet they think we're in here fucking like rabbits. We can stay here for a nice little while and take a good look around."
I laughed back at her. "We really shouldn't let ourselves get that distracted while we're working."
"You old lech! You're as tempted as I am, but you're right. We shouldn't."
I was busy taking pictures through one window while she looked through the other. The place was much as you'd expect, abandoned equipment slowly converting into piles of rust all over the old yard. Three large doors on the back of the facility, two boarded up like the ones at the front but the third slightly ajar.
"Somebody has been in there."
"Dafydd, look... Jackpot."
Barely visible in another abandoned shed was the hood of a car, showing the colors of a local cab firm. "Those hints are starting to pile up. I'm guessing they are all in there" I was taking more pictures. The team was going to need every one of them, getting into this place with enough subtlety to have any chance of finding live victims was going to be a twenty four carat bitch.
As we were getting ready to leave, Sarah leaned over and ruffled my fur a bit. I returned the favor and partially untucked my shirt to preserve the illusion of what we had supposedly been doing in there. We were pretty certain we were being watched by now so we kept up the show, walking out with our arms around each other and sharing a kiss by our vehicles as if we were bidding a fond farewell. We drove off in separate directions but with the same destination.
Before hitting the road I had sent the team the pictures of the back area. Plugging my bluetooth headset into my ear, I tapped the button.
"Dial Agent Warren" The damn thing just beeped at me. Voice recognition software is getting pretty good, they tell me, but it seems it really doesn't like my voice. I tried again. "Dial Agent Warren" This time it made the call.
"Warren."
"You get the images?"
"Yes. That's the boat we're looking for. We're planning how to get in there now."
"There's no safe approach in daylight. It's going to have to wait until dark."
"We're thinking the same thing. Clearing that place is going to be a problem in the dark."
"Yeah, even cats eyes aren't going to help much in there."
"Well, at least it gives us a couple of hours to plan it. Get back here. I want you two present when we talk to the SWAT team."
"Sergeant, I believe you know Mr Owen." The wolfhound in the SWAT uniform looked over at me.
"Yeah, I know him. How did you get roped into this mess, Dafydd?"
"Blame Paul. He wanted my input and you know how it is with me, once I'm in I get stuck until the jobs done."
"Yeah, I know."
We gathered around the table in the big conference room. The SWAT sergeant finished looking through the stack of pictures and addressed the room.
"I see two points of entry. This door here and this fire escape. The place is too big to assault so it's going to have to be covert. Going in any other place will just alert the subject. You two planning on going in with us, Dafydd? I don't mind admitting you're a handy fur to have around if things go to hell."
"I'm in if you'll have me. Sarah?"
"Oh yeah, I'm in."
"Thanks. I'll pack along commo for you. Presume you're going to be providing your own kit?"
"It's what we're used to and it's better than yours."
"That's because you don't have to buy it out of a city budget!"
"Fair point."
"Now, the thing that bugs me is the interior. Our floor plans are way out of date and that place has stood empty for way too long. There could be weak floors, internal changes, all sorts of crap that aint going to show up here."
"May be able to help you with that." I grabbed my phone and stuck it on speaker so everybody could hear the conversation. "Jason, you're into one of these 'Urban Explorer' groups in town, aren't you?"
"Sure am."
"Any chance you could put me in touch with anyone in that group that has explored the old elevator and bagging plant on Shephard Road? Quickly? We're about to roll in there and could do with some up to date info."
"I think a crew blogged that one about six months ago. I'll see who's online." I fidgeted as I heard a keyboard working over the phone line. "Got two for you, how do you want to do this?"
"Give 'em my conference line number and a guest passcode. I'll open up the bridge right now."
"OK, you're getting Wildcat and Spelunk. No last names, just crew handles. No ID checks if you need to meet. Are we good with that?" I looked around the room and got nods from the senior law-enforcement types present.
"Yeah, we're cool."
"They'll be calling in soon. Take care, Boss."
I was already dialing my conference service on the rooms phone. Soon, over the speaker we got the typical soft female voice.
"Please enter your conference code" I punched in the required 8 digits. "If you are the conference leader, press star now." One more keypress. "Please enter your four digit access code." Four more memorized digits. Two beeps and the conference line was open. We didn't have to wait more than a couple of minutes before beeps announced the arrival of two more callers.
"Hi there, you got a roomful of feds, local cops and SWAT team here. Along with a couple of lowlife PIs. Hope that don't make ya nervous." A female voice answered me.
"Nah, I'm good. How 'bout you, Spelunk?" This must be Wildcat, who I guess probably lived up to her handle. A really deep male voice answered her. This guy had to be something huge like a stallion or a buffalo.
"I'm good too. You're interested in the old grain mill and bagging plant down by the river, right?"
"Yeah. We're about to roll in there and need a bit of an update on hazards."
"One thing I can tell you. The fire escape is almost falling off the mill, but it's the only way into the upper floors unless you bring ladders. One stairwell is blocked and the other contains no steps for the entire second floor."
"Yeah, stay out of the northwest corner on the upper floors of the bagging plant too. The floors are all rotted out. They look fine but put your weight on 'em and it's a long way down."
"Any places in either building that look viable for somebody to hole up for weeks at a time?"
"In the bagging plant, only the first floor. Anywhere else is too awkward to get into or any light you show would be visible from the street. For the mill you're looking at the top two floors. Personally I'd pick the mill, those two floors are the clearest and the fact that all the windows are pretty much blown out has cleared all the flour dust. If you're holing up you are probably cooking and you don't want to do that in a place where every movement kicks grain dust into the air."
"Yeah, kaboom city man."
"Thanks, guys. Appreciate it. Anyone need to ask anything else?"
"Yeah." This was Paul. "You said all the windows were blown out on the top two floors of the mill?"
"When we were in there, yeah. All except a couple on the top floor."
"That's what I needed, thanks."
"Good luck guys." The two disconnected from the conference and I hung up the phone.
The SWAT sergeant raised his muzzle off his paws and looked around the room.
"Ok, This is going to mean splitting into three teams. Two go in via the door and clear the bottom floor of the mill, then one of them works their way upwards and the other goes through the breezeway to the bagging plant. At the same time a third smaller team goes up the fire escape on the mill and clears it floor by floor working downward. Dafydd, Sarah, I want you to be the high team. You'll have one of my furs with you. The other seven of us will be four to clear the bagging plant and three others to work their way up the mill. Agent Warren, Two of your team with each group?" The dobie shook his head.
"I want Agents Grimm and Corsa by the commo hub on site, and Agent Conrad here in case we need her particular expertise. Make sure she's on commo with us though. That leaves four of us."
"Five." growled Cy from across the table. The sergeant nodded.
"I don't want to add more than one person to the high team if I can avoid it. Agent Callahan?" The otter looked up.
"I'm good for it."
"OK, that leaves three. Two on the low team for the mill, one on the team going into the bagging plant?"
"Freeman, mill." He looked over at the gazelle. "You're with me and the team going into the plant."
Paul flipped the stack of pictures that Sarah and I had taken onto the table.
"Look at the pictures of the upper two floors that Dafydd and Sarah got, and think about what our two explorers told us. I think the high team is going to see the action on this one. One of the blown out windows has been covered with a tarp. From the inside."
"Doesn't matter. Gotta clear the whole place. We stage here and follow this route in. The teams go in simultaneously."
Grab the kit out of the trunk. I'm already wearing my blacks. Tactical belt rig, both sidearms. Taser in the secondary holster on my right. Reloads for it in the pouch on my belt. Spare mags for my sidearms in the loops next to it. Vest. Load-bearing harness over the vest and clipped to the belt. Two 30-round mags for the MP5 on one strap, pair of flashbangs on the other. Now for the unorthodox stuff. Tac-knife on the right ankle. Wakizashi on my back with the hilt rearing over my shoulder like a snake about to strike. Then there's the artillery - MP5 with the sling already adjusted to fit me real good. I pointed it at a street light and felt the familiar lock-in, the sling and stock combining to make me one with the weapon. I slid a dual-mode tac-light onto the rail and made sure the switch was in IR mode before I pulled my NVG's out of the case and settled the harness around my head. It's been years since I wore the full kit and it still felt like a second skin to me. Only thing missing was my helmet and honestly I always hated that thing. I needed my ears free to stay alive.
"Shit, Sarge! What the fuck is happening here?" New guy on the team. He'd never worked with me before.
"Please tell me the whiner isn't on my team."
"Sorry, Dafydd, he is. He's the best locks fur I've got, so he's going in with you high. Campbell, you take this furs orders like they were mine. He aint posing he really is that much of a badass. Dafydd, here's your headset and radio."
"Thanks, Scott."
We kinda paired up. Sarah with the FBI otter and me with the SWAT ferret. Girls and guys, go figure. Worked for me, there was somebody I trusted paired with one I had my doubts on. There was an easy path in shadow to the bottom of the fire escape. We climbed it slow, every creak of it in the wind making me sweat that we were about to tip off our subject. At the top, I toggled my mic.
"High team in position, working on the door." After releasing my mic switch I looked over at the ferret. "Open it and don't make a sound or set anything off." He had the door unlocked in seconds, eased it open a crack and froze.
"I need your hands. There's a wire."
"What can I do?"
"It's unreeling from something on the frame. Hold it while I cut it loose from the door." I set my paw hard against the door frame and pinched the thread between my fingers.
"OK, It's not going anywhere." With my other hand I keyed my mic. "Trap on the high door. Working on defeating it." I heard the SWAT sergeant over the link.
"Everyone go open mic. Keep the chatter down but we need to hear everything going on with everyone" A bunch of clicks followed, but no chatter. Damn, this crew was good.
"No traps on the low door, waiting on high team."
The ferret opened the door and stepped around me and his eyes went wide. "Boss, this string was wired to a shaped charge, looks like an improvised claymore. It would have taken us all out if it had blown. Dafydd, hold still while I pull and disable this detonator. Don't let go of the string, OK?"
"Somebody believes in playing for keeps." Then we heard it. A high feline screech echoing through the mill. No way to know where it had come from. I almost let go of the fucking string but retained enough presence to keep my paw frozen in place and update the others.
"All teams, the mill is the target. Suggest you abandon the bagging plant, it's likely all traps."
"Agreed. We can work it faster with both teams. How's that claymore coming?"
"Ten seconds." Longest ten seconds of my life. I have a hard time trusting other folks abilities, particularly when there's a few ounces of C4 and ball bearings about to turn half my body into a pink mist if he fucks up. "OK, Dafydd, it's secure and inactive. You can let go." Got to hand it to that kid, he really was good. When I released the string it didn't move a fraction of an inch. I nodded at him before speaking.
"High team is in."
"Low team go. If you were assigned to the plant, you're going for the next floor, we'll leapfrog upwards. High team, clear downward as briefed." We were in the southwest corner of this tower, our only way down was in the opposite corner.
"Campbell, you're with me going left. You two go right. Meet at the stairs, clear as you go." I pulled down my goggles and flipped on the IR light on the rail of my weapon. To my eyes and anyone else similarly equipped, the place lit up like daylight, albeit in monochrome. I felt the familiar instincts rise, but this time I let 'em come. They were working for me not against me this time. Damn, this was familiar. Prowling through a dodgy building with not a clue what was in here other than it was bad and that it could hit the fan at any moment.
Two rooms later, it did.
Campbell was two feet in front of me when my ears snapped forward, catching the almost wet sound from the floor as he stepped cleanly through a rotted-out patch. He started falling and I leaped to catch him before he hit the floor and made all kinds of noise.
I succeeded, but at the same time I heard a quite distinctive snapping noise from ground level. As his eyes went wide I snapped a paw around his muzzle so that he couldn't make a sound, holding him in place and waiting what felt like an eternity as I looked down towards the ground. As I suspected, he'd gone through far enough that the leverage of his fall had broken at least one of the bones down there. His eyes rolled over to look sideways at me and he nodded. I took my hand off his muzzle and he drew a shaky breath.
"You gotta get my paw out of there." That was all he said before I saw his eyes close and the muscles along his jaw swell as he clamped his muzzle shut with all their strength. I haled him upright on his good leg and he leaned on my back as I bent down a little to reach his knee. As carefully as I could I lifted his knee, doing my best to lift his paw back out the same way it had gone through, so as not to have it catch on anything. I wasn't totally successful but he didn't make a sound. I got him into a position where he could sit against the wall.
"Bottom floor is clear. Leapfrogging up. High team, status?"
"Campbell has a broken ankle courtesy of a rotten floor. All teams watch out for that, some places look perfectly sound but there's spots that you can step straight through like thick mud."
"Should we rejoin?" That was Sarah, from the other side of this floor.
"Negative. I'll continue solo."
"Dafydd, we're almost at the stairwell but we may have an issue here. I think I just heard voices from our left, possibly from one of the machinery spaces. We're checking it out."
"Understood. My access point to those spaces is just ahead." There it was and the door was standing open. "Definitely voices in there, too muffled to hear properly yet though. I'm coming in from this side."
Inside it was a nightmare of broken machinery, pipes, haphazard stacks of unidentifiable junk. I shut off my light and raised my goggles, letting my eyes adapt some. Over the industrial odors and the pervading miasma of mold and rot one scent came clearly to my nose. Sharp, metallic, pushing all the predator buttons at once.
"This is it. I smell fresh blood in there and I can just make out a glow, some kind of light source, way away from me but should be off to your left some."
I pulled my goggles back down and flipped my light on again. I could feel every hair down my spine trying to stand up on end and the tip of my tail was twitching steadily from side to side. I made slow progress towards the source of the voices like I was sneaking up on one of Agent Thompson's feral cousins. Move the paw, test the footing, slowly transfer the weight. The voices were starting to get clearer. One voice in particular.
"You're going to watch all of it, bitches. Every little thing that happens to this useless little kittycunt here. If I catch you looking away or closing your eyes, I zap the collars again. Both of them, whichever one of you tries it. If either of you pukes then you will both lap it up when I'm done. Now let's get her woken up. It's no good if she can't enjoy it with us, is it?"
"Sounds like all three are still alive, but the subject has already started working on Jess. No eyes yet, can't tell what shape she's in but it doesn't sound good"
"Dafydd, we're there, but we're blocked. Can't see all the space and no shot on the subject. I've got an old workbench. Jess is strapped down to it. Subject is standing by the bench, can't see much. No way into that space from this location, it's blocked by pipework. Fiona is looking for an alternate."
"High team, we are still two floors below you and we still have to move carefully. We've found a couple of devices like was on the fire escape already. If you observe the subject actively attempting to harm a victim you are clear to engage." Without conscious thought I nudged the selector on my weapon to 3-round burst.
"Copy clear to engage." I didn't need the goggles any more, there was enough stray light spilling from my destination to move cleanly. I heard a slap and a moan followed by a steady whimpering and picked up my pace.
"Move it, Dafydd! Looks like Jess is conscious again and I saw a knife!"
My ears flattened and I let pure adrenaline propel me around the corner. There was the big wolverine, bending over the workbench with a large hunting knife poised over the breasts of the girl strapped to the bench. My peripheral vision showed me two chairs, each with a tiger tied into them against the wall to my left but what filled my awareness was the knife moving towards the young woman's breasts. Too close. If I gave it even a fraction of a second that blade could have been through her heart or her throat in an instant. By the time I was consciously aware of that thought, however, my sight picture had become clear and three casings were dropping to the floor.
Alexandra Kyte slumped over to the side and fell to the floor, an obscene red splatter on the dingy walls. I let the remainder of my adrenaline rush keep me moving over there, kick the body over and push the knife away from the outstretched paw.
"All teams, Subject is down. We need EMS here. Suggest a chopper with a rescue hoist, we need these three out of here as fast as possible and this room has direct roof access." The sound of steps in a hurry announced the arrivals of Agent Callahan, then Sarah and finally the first arrivals from the low teams. Good. They could handle the cleanup. I was getting a monster case of the shakes. I safed and cleared my weapon to make sure I didn't do anything embarrassing now that it looked like it was over.
"Hey, guys, when the EMT's get there, make sure they don't forget me back here, ok? This ankle hurts like a motherfucker."
For some reason, I found that amusing and laughed. For an even weirder reason, so did everyone else and they joined me.
I was leaning on the dock rail with Cy on my left and Agent Warren on my right. Cy lit up one of his filthy stogies, and I was filling my pipe. Agent Warren didn't smoke but he was upwind of both of us so that was OK. I drew in the fragrant smoke and blew a plume of it out over the river. Agent Warren broke the silence.
"Nine lives, six lost and three broken. Not sure I can easily count this one as a win."
"That's why we do this, it's why folks like Sarah and I bury ourselves in this shit so it doesn't wash over everyone else. It's why Sarah left the force rather than end up as a desk-jockey."
"Yeah, but you break the rules. I've heard about some of the stunts you've pulled in this city from Cy and Paul."
"I bend them. I do what's right and then square it with the rules afterwards. Just so you know, Agent, I've been in this business a while and I can honestly say that no innocents got hurt because I bent a rule. Not ever. I'm not ashamed to say that the same doesn't hod true for the bad guys."
"The man has a point," That was Cy chiming in. "I aint heard of anything bad happening to folks caught in the crossfire when this dude was involved."
"You weren't there, Cy. I was and I promised myself I'd never let it happen again. Before you ask, Agent Warren, it wasn't on a case it was before I got out of the service. They gave me a fucking medal for it even, but I cant figure why. People died there who I could have, should have, saved. I don't feel good about it"
Agent Warren turned around and looked at the two of us, panther and 'gator staring out over the river enjoying our smokes. Surprising me, he stuck out his paw as he spoke.
"You know how many times I've seen the right thing become the wrong thing just because I wasn't allowed to make it happen? I think this city is a lot safer because you work here, Dafydd, and if you ever quote me on that I'll reopen a lot of old files and shut your ass down. I'd regret it if that ever had to happen."
I took his paw and shook it. "Deal."
fin.