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Authors: Jonathan Charles Bruce

Project Northwoods (39 page)

BOOK: Project Northwoods
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With a flick of his wrist, the hero sent the stun rod bouncing down the road. He sneered. “Where did you come from?” he asked, keeping his front tilted away from Arthur so there wouldn’t be as much area to strike at.

“Corner… of… fuck you and die…” Arthur choked. The tiny man was surprisingly strong as his fingers dug into his throat before throwing him to the ground.

A thin smiled crossed his face. “Never had a problem with you assholes before tonight,” Blaster snarled as he drew his hand back before he pitched what Arthur imagined was going to be a fatal sonic wave.

The sound of squeaking metal drew Arthur and Blaster’s attention. Tim, covered in blood and wild-eyed, leapt from the roof of the car, smashing it in, toward the hero. Blaster tried to intercept Tim, but the villain connected with a diving punch across the hero’s face. Tim carried through into a crouch as the smaller man spun to the ground, a trail of gore falling to the pavement. Surprisingly gracefully, Arthur’s friend leapt over the newly downed hero, rolling in the air, and brought a fist down on the struggling Enforcer’s head, bashing it into the pavement.

Arthur scrambled to his feet and ran over to the Enforcer as Tim rose, flicking his hand free of blood. He kicked at the officer, the unconscious body taking the blows without reacting. “Just a fucking kid, asshole!” he screamed.

“Arthur, he’s not getting up,” Talia said calmly behind him.

He wheeled around wildly toward her voice. “He shot…” he began, pointing behind Talia. Rising, staring drunkenly at him with more than a little concern in her eyes, Stair braced herself against the car. “Stair?” he asked, not sure if he actually believed what he was seeing. The reporter followed his gaze.

“Talia, did you drop the last escort?” Tim asked.

She looked over his shoulder at him as she and Arthur neared the stunned girl. “She’s not getting up any time soon.”

“You okay?” Arthur asked. The girl nodded and swayed in response.

With a grunt, Tim turned up the street. “I’ll meet you at the Mob.”

Arthur’s head snapped around at the statement. He took off after Tim. “You can’t be serious,” he half-shouted.

“Tim, we have no idea where Ariana is,” Talia shouted.

“All the more reason to look!” he snapped.

Arthur ran in front of him and physically pushed him to stop. “Look, Tim…”

“Don’t touch me.”

“… I want to save Ari, too. But if we go after her now, we’re dead.” Arthur tried to maintain eye contact, but something was just too fierce in Tim’s eyes. Something wild and dangerous.

“Correction,
you’re
dead, dumbass.” He shoved his way past Arthur.

“Tim, think about this!” shouted Talia.

“I don’t need to–” He stopped. Physically and vocally. The ground had turned gelatinous, and he couldn’t break free of the muck. “I can’t move!”

Arthur tried to run, but the ground’s jellification spread and swallowed his feet. “Talia!” Arthur screamed.

Snare launched himself over the car and came crashing between Tim and Arthur. Talia instinctively pushed the girl behind her with her bound hands before prying at the zip-ties, trying to figure them out.

“Arthur!” Stair yelled, but her voice seemed muffled, refusing to echo as the ground swallowed the others’ ankles.

His appearance nearly unrecognizable, Snare turned toward Tim, then at Arthur. Tim had beaten him so badly that his face was healing into a melted Halloween mask of skin and muscle. He growled as he approached Arthur. “I think I’m going to rip off your friend’s face.”

“Stay away from him!” Tim shouted. Snare swiped at Arthur, but the blow merely grazed his head as he darted to the side. With a grunt, Snare’s hand caught the back of Arthur’s head and straightened him out. With a flash of motion, he unleashed a straight punch into the younger man’s skull, releasing him when he went slack from the force of the blow. “No!” Tim vainly shouted.

Crumpling awkwardly with his feet locked in place, Arthur sprawled on the pavement. Stunned, Arthur tried to focus as Snare’s shadow washed over him. A wicked smile crossed the hero’s face. “Goodnight.” He brought his boot up over Arthur’s head, prompting the grounded man to weakly attempt to shield it.

A bloom of red popped into existence on Snare’s chest, and the man staggered backward. He stumbled and turned toward Tim, confused. The ground beneath the two friends released them, and they backed away from the giant as he fell to his knees. Another red bloom punctured his head, back to front, and he twitched slightly before falling face first to the ground.

The silence around them grew thick as the four remained unmoving, horrified.

“You killed him,” Arthur whispered into the earpiece, shocked even at the volume of his intentionally muted voice. His comment elicited the attention of his companions.

“Of course I killed him.” The woman had a businesslike tone. “You have your friends. Get to the mob.”

“W-what’s going to happen?” Arthur stuttered as Tim walked over to him. With a yank, Arthur was upright, eyes darting around at the rooftops, trying to find a glint of a scope or any kind of hint to help locate the shooter.

“In about two minutes, a search drone is going to sweep the area, discover the body, and officially list Talia and Tim as rogue elements,” she said.

“Who are you talking to?” Tim asked.

Arthur was walking to the car, keeping the unmoving form of Snare in his sight. The muffled moans of an Enforcer complimented the shuffling of feet. “This… did you have to kill him?”

“People are already dead, Arthur,” the voice said. She spoke the truth, as cold as it could be. Those other deaths seemed so far away, so remote that they were only hints of mortality. He had never seen someone die, let alone violently. “I can’t stay here any longer. Even if the heroes don’t figure out those were gunshots, the search drone will lead them right to me.” Her voice intruded on his train of thought, decimating his concentration.

“Are we meeting up with you?” he asked, reaching through the broken window of the car. His backpack was waiting for him on the safety-glass crusted seat.

“I’ve helped too much already. You have thirty seconds. Out.” The line clicked, then hissed, then went dead.

Swinging the backpack on, Arthur stuck his hand out for Stair. “We need to get to the Mob, now.” Stair took his hand as he turned to Talia. Her eyes flicked to his as she pulled her hands apart, the zip-tie turning to ash as she did so. “How did…” he struggled to say.

She cut him off with an impatient gesture. “Lead the way.”

The three started to run to the alley across the street. Arthur turned when he realized that Tim was standing in the middle of the road, watching a hovering light bobbing in the distance grow larger. “I’ve got to find her, Art.”

Talia gritted her teeth in anger. “Tim, you’re being stupid!”

Tim looked at them, stonily. “They have to pay if they hurt her.”

“Damn it, Tim, you’re going to get yourself killed!” Arthur shouted. Tim looked solemnly back at the approaching search drone.

“Leave him, Arthur,” Talia ordered. She headed toward the alley, only skidding to a stop when she realized Arthur wasn’t moving. “What is wrong with you?”

Arthur sprinted back to Tim, leaving Stair for a moment. He grabbed his friend’s shoulders. “Tim, if you stay here, you’re going to get yourself killed. I owe it…” He stopped to change his wording. “… You owe it to Ari to get to her alive.” He stared into Tim’s eyes. “I will bring you to her. I promise.”

Tim didn’t seem to register what he was saying. “Arthur, please!” Talia shouted.

“Tim, he’s trying to help you!” Stair shouted, almost hysterical.

At the sound of her voice, Tim seemed to snap. He grabbed Arthur and ran toward the alley. Nearly dragged off his feet, Arthur could barely keep up as Tim didn’t stop for Stair. In a single swoop, he gathered the girl up and hoisted her onto his shoulder. They were well into the alley by the time the drone swept over the remnants of their escape, flowing over the wounded heroes, then finally over the dead one.

As they rounded a corner, a hollow noise belted from behind them, shrilling and terrible, lasting only a moment but echoing for what seemed to be an eternity.

The Italian Mob Headquarters only gave a hint of light through cracks in metal shutters drawn over the windows. The slender luminous accents were positively brilliant in comparison to the dead buildings around it. No doubt backup generators thrummed contentedly in the basement, secure against attacks. Nothing stirred in the darkness, and even the Enforcer patrols around the area were much lighter than the ones they had dodged up to now.

Tim still had Stair resting on his shoulders as they approached, squinting in the early morning light. “Do you think they’re still in there?”

“I hope so,” Arthur said. “It’s the only chance we have.” He marched toward the front steps.

“The lights would be off if they had been taken, right?” Talia asked.

Stair squirmed her way off of Tim’s shoulder and landed next to him, nearly face-planting as she did so. She gracelessly corrected herself and caught up to Arthur, gripping his shirt tightly. He was relieved when the world remained relatively normal under her touch. “What if no one’s there?” she asked quietly.

“It’ll be safe for now,” he answered with a nod. He felt bad sounding so sure when he had no idea if everyone inside had been slaughtered, but he wasn’t about to betray his own fear. Especially when he was sure he was quaking noticeably at this point.

At the top of the steps, the windows to the vestibule doors had shutters drawn over them. The card reader, there for employees, had been hot-wired and sparked. “That’s always a good sign,” Tim muttered.

“Tim, not now,” Talia said, weary.

Arthur dug in his pants pocket and removed the ID card from earlier in the day. He swiped it hopefully. The reader made a whirring noise before the locks released. Arthur opened the door and motioned everyone inside. With a final glance around the area, Arthur entered the vestibule.

They were cramped inside the tiny space, Arthur discovering that the doors to the lobby were also covered by emergency shutters. The outer door locked and sealed behind them, the already small area seemed to grow airtight in the sudden darkness. Their breathing grew thunderous as time stretched on, the only light coming from a red recording speck on a camera in the corner.

“This was a great idea, Arthur,” Tim said. “Good thing Ari’s out getting tortured while I’m stuck…”

“Tim, shut up. Now.” Talia was clearly growing more and more impatient with Tim.

Tim sniffed angrily. “Sorry, don’t want to spoil the mood for you two.”

After what appeared to be an eternity, the security shutters rattled upward. The lobby doors clicked unlocked and swung open. Blinding light spilled in, and everyone tried to protect their eyes. Arthur turned away, discovering that the shutters behind him were covered in countless dents and tiny spatters of blood. He threw his hand up as he turned, trying to see through the light.

Gradually, a dark form made itself coherent in front of the spotlight. “More than one group of Enforcers tried to get in here,” Catalina said before snapping her fingers. The powerful light died, and they could see again. Dozens of armed mobsters, their Tommy Guns lowered, nodded at their arrival approvingly as they dispersed. Catalina walked forward and guided them into the lobby. “Sorry about the theatrics.”

“What was that about?” Talia asked, her eyes still squinting.

“Emergency procedure,” Catalina explained. “We have to make sure anyone who enters is legit once lockdown is called.” She looked into the vestibule, the dents and patches of tissue making her cough out a laugh. “Or else.” She grabbed hold of the doors and slammed them shut, sealing them inside and guaranteeing, for the time being at least, they were safe.

 

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

PLANS

ARTHUR SAT ON THE COT
in the empty, windowless room. He looked at his computer resting in the corner on a crate. Mollie’s eye flickered, trying desperately to repair data which had long since proven to be unsalvageable. Not that it mattered. Not that much of anything mattered at this point.

BOOK: Project Northwoods
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