Rick Loved the new boat, it was everything you could want in a Yacht, well ok, it was a little on the small side at only 115'. But beyond that it was a real work of mechanical genius.They rolled into the Bay of Hvar just after Dawn. Barett was going to take the ferry in, bringing his motorcyle but they hadn't heard from him just yet. Luckily for Rick and Utah the boat had just been restocked, the freezers freshly loaded and the diesel tanks topped off. For all purposes it was ready to go. Rick had started working on changing some things about it already, for one thing the baby blue color needed to go, and the name, it needed to change as well.
Searching the boat they found lots of money and expensive cloths, drugs and piles of porn, piles of porn being an understatement there was a lot of it. Weird, torture stuff all the way down to some mild erotica, five or six crates of it at least.
Utah looked it over and whistled.
" These dudes are into some bad stuff, they have the feel of some Modern day Gadianton Robbers, bad Mojo all over this, and that lady in the room....she is Evil....nothing good left in her, I won't feel bad about whatever happens to her."
Rick looked back at his brother from the helm of the boat as they started towards the dock area.
"Hey, what are we going to do if they board us and search the boat ?"
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"I figure we have two options." Rick said. "The first is easy. . . Bribe them. The second depends upon who wants to search us. If they are more morally attuned to criminal behavior, then I say we take them below and see all the S&M stuff the previous owners were into and introduce them to our lady friend let them smell her pretty perfume."
"Rick, you are evil." Utah said. "But only because you said it first. I was thinking the same thing."
Rick eased the boat into the empty dock space the guy with the colorful flags was waving at him and then waited his turn.
A small partial mouse man walked onto the deck and looked at the boat then Rick, who had a stack of Euro's on the dash of the boat.
"Length of stay in Hvar, and Previous dock."
Rick looked him over, the guy had a uniform on and a bag of papers and money over his shoulder.
" Two days, Split was our last dock."
Rick handed him the papers for the ships registar.
The Official waved them away.
" 250 euro per day, up front."
Rick handed him 600 euros in cash, the small mouse man smiled, handed Rick a official ticket for two days and moved off the boat, sticking the extra 100 euro bill in his front pocket.
Utah looked out the front windshield as the guy worked his way down the dock.
"If it was that easy for us, I can't imagine what else is moving through these docks."
The Bay was awash in expensive boats with the Rich and Famous om them, as they watched the traffic moving in and out of the port.
Shelia had noted this town was a destination party place for Europes playboys and movie stars, from what they could tell, she was right.
Utah stands there in a pair of blue shorts and a silk shirt he got from one of the cabins, a 1911 .45 tucked into his waistband.
"When do we meet with Shelia ? and How do we deal with the women in the cabin ?"
Meanwhile back at the town of Split, Barett sat in Utah's car watching the entrance to the Emergency room. He had been there for over an hour, and still no sign of the person he had shot at earlier. He had done one sneek and peek into the hospital to check the surgery boards for gunshot wounds, but nothing. After three hours of absolute boredom, he decided to leave. There were two conclusions he figured for the lack of a body at the hospital, the first was that he missed, he hated to admit that, but it happens. The second was that they were dead, and working alone. Either way he needed to head to the dock to make the first ferry out to Hvar, and he was going to take Utah's car out there, instead of the bike, he wanted all the gear he could take, that and he waited to long at the hospital to make the switch smoothly.
Barett waited inline at the ferry station, only the second car back, and already on the boat, waiting for launch.
He watched from the rearview mirror the others line up behind him. Having already paid his fee, and conned the dockmaster into letting him stay in his car on the trip over to catch some sleep he eased the seatback and locked the doors, but left the windows cracked just slightly to allow voices and conversations to be overheard or alert him to danger.
The cool breeze filtered through the window and allowed him to meditate into a light sleep, forcing his mind to focus on his breathing and clear it of all the questions in his head.
Barett was just coming out of his light nap when he saw the two macedonians standing by the rail on the ferry, the dock of Hvar in the background. From behind the dark tinted windows of the car, he held still, hoping that would give him the anonimity that he needed.
The white wolf guy had a makeshift bandage around his neck and shoulder, a fresh spot of blood on the cloth. The two of them were involved in a animated conversation that he couldn't make out, but it was clear they were concerned about the wound and money, based on the hand gestures.
Barett decided that direct contact was the only way to connect the dots, he decided to go and talk to the two of them.
Barett stepped out of the car, and slammed the door, to get thier attention.
" Tally ho there chaps, out for a little cruise this morning, eh."
Barett waved at 'Psy' and walked towards them.
Psy looked nervously at him, then over to the white wolf guy with the bandaide on his neck, shooting the all knowing glance.
Barret stops next to Psy at the railing and leaned onto it, staring out to the bay of Hvar.
" I hear the nuddie beachs are great out here, hoping to get some sun where it doesn't normally shine, brought some extra sunscreen along for that, just in case.....you boys been out here before ?"
They both nod their heads in a no, and stare back at Barett, the confusion and nervousness in thier faces obvious.
" Nasty scratch there mate, you should have someone look at that for you, don't want to go getting a infection off that thing...Right."
Psy nods his head, then squares up his shoulders, putting on a air of importance.
" Look no offence, but we were having a private conversation here, just looking to be alone, you understand...right, so nice seeing you and all, again, but perhaps we can talk sometime later."
Barett nods, and goes to swing away. Stops, and turns toward both of them and says in a low tone.
" Look guys, I can tell whats going on, thats a bullet wound, your military special operators way over your heads, and I can help you out...so listen, I can get your buddy fixed up right and get you some cash to float whatever you are doing...I just need to know if we can trust each other and work together.....so think it over, I'll be in that car right there, or contact me at this number.."
Barett flips them a small hotel card with a number and a alias on it to the hotel Utah and Rick are staying at, then walks away.
Barett slids behind the wheel of the car and watches as the two Macedonians climb the stairs to the upper observation deck, out of his sight.
He flips through the file that Shelia gave them on Hvar. After reading through the file twice he checks his gear, turns on the radio and watches the shoreline get closer, as the sun finishes cresting in the east over the horizon.
The leather seats still have the smooth, polished feel and look of new, the car only having eight thousand miles on it. The dials and gauges set nicely into the carbonfiber dashboard.
Checking his look in the mirror he notes the growing stubble on his face and the scars from fights in the past, his dark hair cut short and styled in a fauxhawk, a mini beard on just his chin. He looks like all the other mid-twenties wandering the shores of the Adriatic, just what he wanted.
It takes almost fifteen minutes to make their way to the port through all the heavy boat traffic, across the bay he can see the boat they took only a few hours ago, it stood out in a crowd with that paint job, he made a mental note to mention that to Rick, it needed to be repainted.
Barett had just started Utah's car up to get ready to disembark when 'Psy" approached the car.
Barett rolled down the window, a .45 cal with a silencer in his left hand, hidden behind the door.
"We would like to hear your offer in more detail."
Psy says in a hushed tone through the window.
"Where can we meet you ?"
Barett smiles and nods.
"Meet me at noon, the small pier restarant...and stay away from the boat, you know what I mean, until after our meeting."
Psy looks surprised, but nods and waves Barett off as he drives the car off the boat and down the pier to town.
The morning air over Hvar was fragrant and warm. People were moving lazily about on harbor, most of them obvious tourists as they appeared to not be doing anything other than checking out the richly dressed and the fashionable.
Rick had on a thin white-summer shirt that was halfway buttoned with navy blue slacks. He had concealed his 9mm and two knives.
Hvar was an island that they could only be impressed with. The Brothers noticed that the beaches were pristine paradises as both paused to watch the turquoise colored sea kissing the yacht’s hull before they disembarked and headed up the dock.
They had left the lady locked and tied below for Shelia to deal with later. They were to rendezvous with her at the Amfora, Hvar grand beach resort hotel. Shelia had told them to check into rooms there and then meet her at the resort’s main restaurant for breakfast at 8:30 am.
As they walked the short distance to the hotel, both noticed that Hvar truly was a unique and odd destination like they had walked into a movie overflowing with a ridiculous number of attractive people. European playboys and playgirls for sure!
They walked up past an outdoor café but didn’t get far before a girl sitting with her friend under one of the large umbrella called out to them.
“Dobro jutro dječaci.” She said in a playful sexy voice.
Both Utah and Rick stopped. They understood the greeting, ‘Good morning’ but they didn’t know the last word. However it was clear from her forced pronunciation that she wasn’t a native. The woman who called out was looked to be in her late twenties. She was very fair skinned with blond hair, blue-grey eyes, cheery red lips, and a body that made both brothers feel like they were little boys seeing a woman for the first time. Her companion seemed embarrassed by the boldness of her friend but seemed flattered that the brothers had stopped. She seemed a little younger and had darker skin tone that the blonde. She had shy yet absolutely beautiful brown eyes, a sharp thin nose, and long brunette hair plated at the nape of her neck. She was on the slender side as she wasn’t as impressively endowed as her friend but she was also very attractive nonetheless.
The bolder fair skinned lady pointed to the chair next to her in gesture to invited Utah to sit down next to her.
Utah didn’t hesitate. She had gestured to him and turned with a type of gloat to Rick to let him know he got the gorgeous one.
“Sorry, my Croatian really isn’t very good.” Utah said in a polite yet somewhat eager voice as he sat down.
“English?” she replied in confidence.
“West coast American.”
Her left eyebrow rose in surprise. “Really?”
Rick sat down next to the other lady who grinned liked a little girl on her first date yet she couldn’t stop herself from shifting in an awkward and shy squirmed to get comfortable.
Meanwhile back on the 'Christina O', Roman sat looking at a lap top computer connected to a satelite dish type of relay, with E.o.H markings on it. He tapped the keys in frustrated strokes, a furrow deep on his brow. He hit the side of the monitor in a act of frusration, then shuts the computer down. Slamming the chair he was sitting in, back into the wall, he stomps to the door of his wood panelled office and yells out the door.
"Get me the Witch Desella, Now !!!"
Grabbing a video from out of a locked cabinet, he slides in a 'Snuff film' from his collection, letting the images wash over him, slowing his heart rate down. He was frustrated that one of his hunter/killer boats had gone missing with one of the twins and the whole crew, and his Madam, plus a whole lot of valuable merchandise stashed aboard. It could take months to replace that material, and he didn't have months, just days. Already three other boat teams were heading to split to find out what happened, it was disturbing.All the tracking devices were dead, and no one saw anything, for all purposes the boat was just gone.
The Witch showed up just at the best part of the film, the death scene,and waited outside in the hall, till it was over before entering.
She worn a series of flowing silk like robes in dark colors, all with low cut neck lines, exposing her ample cleavage. If he didn't know what she was, he would have found her attractive. She was tall and thin, with a golden tone to her skin, and not a single hair on her body, anywhere. Her eyes were a deep cat like green with a wild iris to them. She moved like a animal stalking her prey, smooth and fluid...and she only spoke when talked to and replied in a thick smokey voice, with a french like accent to it.
"Good, you are here, I need you to go get the woman "Carla"...and put a curse on these West coast Cowboys for me."
He split out more than spoke.
She simply nodded her head and then turned to leave.
Back at Hvar Barett parked the car at the Hotel they were meeting Shelia for breakfast at, and changed his shirt and pants to something more fitting the resort atmosphere. He hated going so casually around in such a hostile enviroment, as he considered it. But you couldn't go around with body armor and weapons slung all over you either. .
The linen pants were cut loose and hid the .38 special on his ankle, the silk button down shirt in a dark blue was left untucked, concealing the custom compact Kimber .45 cal in the small of his back. The canvas deck shoes were light and he could run in them in needed.
He carried a small leather bag that was trendy for the guys, a man purse if you will, it held two spare clips for the .45 and some knives, plus some cash, and other small things. It was the most he could carry with out raising eyebrows. Doing a walk around the grounds to check out the place, and finding it clean, he headed in to find Shelia and his brothers, who had gotten there before him.
Meanwhile in a small Italian Village Carla sat on the back porch, of a rented villa, sipping a blended fruit drink and eating some pastries off a old wooden table and chair set, the decorative paint long since weathered off. She had been hiding here since the London incident, waiting till things cooled down, but they only seemed to be getting hotter.
Every day reports came into her about Romans activities and the strange E.o.H movements of ships and the like, plus the increased chatter on the Human Intel lines about her and Manassa's Kingdom...they were starting to close in the net on her and it was giving her a bad feeling.
She had already packed up the car, and was getting ready to move out this afternoon, sitting in one place to long was bound to get you caught she kept telling herself. She needed to shake up the trail a little, make them work harder, but the fact remained someoneone, somewhere, felt she was more important than she really was, and that could cost her some very bad trouble, or her life.
The warming humid breeze stirred the leaves and dust on the stone patio area, as early morning moved into late morning, down the road into the village she could see the line of black Mercedes cars, three of them in a funeral like procession headed towards her, they were so out of place even the locals stopped to stare. The Russians had found her.
"Dammit, Marde....Not now !"
She was up and moving towards the car before the chair had time to hit the ground. She rushed to the Red BMW in the driveway and gunned the engine. Whipping the long nosed car out onto the country road, narrow and winding across the windswept hillsides. She worked the gears up and down, as the corners and hills made getting any real speed impossible, but every kilometer she was ahead of them, gave her time and hope.
Coming around a bend in a hilly section, she saw the road block, the large cargo box truck blocking the whole road. She slammed on the brakes, and yanked the wheel hard, doing a complete 180, before dropping down into first gear and smoking the tires, heading the car back the way she had come. Then just over the rise in front of her came the three black Mercedes sedans, moving incredible fast.
She pulled the red BMW to the side of the road and waited, there was no where else to go. She knew that being cooperative at this point was going to be the best option, but she had to hold herself back from making a last ditch effort to escape.
"What's your name?" Utah asked in a normal tone that was confident with a hint of charm.
“I’m Niki and this this Sasha. And you will have to understand that I am totally embarrassing her.” The blonde lady said as she smiled at her friend who blushed to an even deeper shade of red and attempted to hit her friend for saying such a thing.
For an attractive girl, both brothers were surprised at how nervous Sasha was behaving.
“Well, are you going to asked them?” Niki asked her friend with exasperation. Sasha just shook her head in the negative and looked at her feet.
“Oh, Sasha! Really?” Niki said and then she flipped her hair and let it bounce dramatically to the over side of her head. “We were watching you two come in on your yacht and Niki bet me that you guys were guards or something like that. She even thought you might be body guards for Princess Sophia.”
Utah looked over at the blushing girl who though seemed to be petrified was looking keenly right back at him. He was surprised at how perceptive she seemed to be. Maybe he had run into her somewhere before but didn’t remember it. He looked across at Rick and noticed that he looking like he always does when he starts turning up the charm and women. Utah shot him a look and tapped his watch. They really didn’t have time to waste right now.
But he was intrigued.
“Well Sasha and Niki. It is a pleasure meeting you two. You have sharp eyes. The name is Utah Blaine. My friends call me Deacon and this is my brother Rick but we all just call him the Blue Rooster. You have to watch out for him though. He has a bad habit of breaking hearts.”
Rick just laughed off the insult and took Sasha’s hand and gently kissed it. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Utah rolled his eyes. Sasha went to a deeper color of red if that was even possible.
“We don’t work for Princess Sophia. Who is she?” Utah asked Niki.
“She is a royal princess from Monaco. Rumor says she is coming in sometime this morning. We were just handing out trying to get a glimpse when she comes in. You two can join us if you like.”
“Thank you for the offer but we have an appointment we can’t be late for or else our boss will bite our heads off.” Utah said as he tapped his watch as a hint to Rick that they needed to be moving.
They excused themselves but not until Niki gave Utah a napkin with a kiss mark, her number, and a promise from him to call her when they had time. The brothers headed up the streets to the hotel.
Barett sat at a booth in the back of the hotel bar, talking quietly to Shelia. She was nodding and taking notes into a little PDA like device.
" So you think these Macedonians know something about Roman ?"
Barett nodded.
" Yeah, I think this guy shot one of Roman's guys last night on the boat, and then I shot him. We have been playing leap frog for the last two days. So my idea is to get them to sell us some info, and do some of the dirty work for us, keep our hands clean if you will. I figure ten grand should get us what we need."
Shelia was busy putting in notes then paused.
" Getting local contacts and operatives is good, I didn't think you were interested in that sort of thing, that speaks well for you. So, go a head and make the contact and deal, I will meet you with the money in two hours...if this contact doesn't go well, they must be eliminated. You understand that we are compromised somewhere already ?"
Barett tries to feign innocent, but it doesn't work.
"Yeah I've heard....this is one bad mo'fo and he wants to be the biggest kid on the block....it will all settle out in the end, it always does. I was going to eliminate them when the idea of using them came to me, I have no problems either way."
Shelia looks at Barett then points to the window. From inside the bar he can see Utah and Rick moving through the lobby towards them, smiling brightly, Utah doing this strut like walk. He must have got the upper hand on Rick, Barett thought.
Shelia signals to the waiter as the brothers approach, to bring more food and drink. As the other two settle into the booth, Utah next to Shelia, Rick next to Barett.
" I'm glad that you are all here, normally I don't like to have all of us together in one spot but the way things are going, we need this. Barett has briefed me on the boat and the Macedonians, but I have another reason for inviting you here. I need one of you to go with me on a little fact finding mission....I was going to take Barett but he has another assignment now.
Instead I will take Rick.He is the perfect fit really for this."
She slides a folded note over to Utah.
" This is the adress of a high end brothel on Hvar, just outside of town. We believe it to be one of Romans, so big security and the like. I need you to put eyes on it and get me some exit plans and hard numbers on security around the complex. This afternoon, Rick and I will be meeting a contact inside the complex.....it will be very dangerous. Utah will be the back up. Barett will be available if we need him, but only in an emergency."
Utah looks at Rick then over to Barett.
"Ok, who are the Macedonians ?"
Barett looks around just for effect.
"Those two guys I told you about, meet them on the boat over. I think we can use them."
" OK, sounds good, so Rick and I check this place out this morning and meet up with you this afternoon for your little romantic trip, sounds good to me."
Utah smiles at Rick, then puts the note in his pocket.
" One other thing, it looks like Roman is looking for a girl named Carla....he's throwing some big money out to get her alive. If you have any info about her let me know."
Shelia stands up and grabs her bag.
" I'll meet you two at the car rental place off the marina at 1:30 pm sharp, Until then, get me some good intel, I don't like the looks of that place."
Utah turns to Rick, after she has left he bar and says.
" I think she just wants a threesome with you, big guy."
What does Rick do ?
Utah continued to tease Rick on and off for the rest of the morning about the assignment. Rick’s only retort was that he was just jealous because you had to admit, being assignment by your boss to visit a high end brothel was pretty cool job no matter how you sliced it. They got into the blue Evo 10 Barett had brought over and headed up to do some recon on this place.
But as they drove and talked over their plans, Rick was concerned. Shelia was an attractive girl and the thought of her in different states of undress were not hard to conjure up in his mind, but her personality just clashed with him. There was something foul about her. But he couldn’t put his finger on it. It was a frustrating dilemma because this illogical unease caused a lot of tension between them. He had asked Utah and Barett if they could pinpoint what it was that bothered him so much about her but they didn’t seem to notice anything overtly obvious. There was just something off. There was no reason other than he was instinctively repelled by her. It didn’t make any sense. But Rick had learned to trust his instincts. That was what the brother’s mom and dad had taught them from a young age and it had always been true advice to live by. It was why the brothers were still alive.
And his instincts told him to be careful around Shelia.
The other thing that was bothering Rick as they drove to their destination was Shelia’s comment about Carla. For unlike Shelia, Rick hand bonded with her and he was concerned about her safety. Roman and his Russian goon squad had far reaching hands. They had found Miss Shanzai Tasmin Bhati a little too easily and in doing so had almost nabbed him. These guys were good, he had to give them that credit; but being good meant that Carla was in danger.
Within a few minutes the two arrived. They parked the car a quarter mile from the brothel and began staking the place out.
Meanwhile at the dock, Barett and Shelia sat in the bridge, of the recently acquired yacht.
Shelia looked down at her notes and the video camera in her hand, then back up to Barett.
" I think we have all we are going to get from her now. This is good information, but it doesn't help us in what we are doing now. I don't think she knows who the mole in the organization is, so we will ship her off to a special detention center to recieve further questioning. The sedative will kick in shortly and then I will have you transport her to a waiting van, use the large marine cooler in storage, to put her in."
Barett nodded and wiped the blood from his fist.
" Who do you think this 'Witch Desella' is that she threatened us with, I get the impression that the two of them know each other."
" I don't know yet, but I will run the name in the database and see what pops up. What are your intentions with the boat ? "
Shelia seemed lost in her thoughts, her eyes never leaving the notebook in her hand.
" We were going to use it as bait, then sink it, or blow it up....what ever works best."
Barett smiled and tapped the large steering wheel.
" That will be fine,...just fine... you guys are really doing a good job here, I was not expecting such results. I will note in the report back to HQ your recent contacts and meet you thirty minutes before your lunch with the Macedonia's. The van will be a white, Volkswagon service van, seaside meat company,on the side, that comes to pick up the package. The driver will ask if you have a large tuna for him, don't say any thing but, 'I think its a barracuda',he will do the rest."
She looked up from her notes and looked into his face.
" I have some equipment that you can use, radios and night vision equipment...plus a small recording device I need you to wear when working with the Macedonians...if it all works out they will come in very handy later."
Barett was already heading back down the stairs.
"That will be fine. Listen take it easy on Rick, he really is a good operator, if you can get him to trust you, things might work a lot smoother on your little adventure this afternoon."
She smiled, a innocent almost sweet smile, quickly at him then turned to go.
" I'll keep that in mind, thanks."
Then she was gone off the boat and jogging quickly up the dock.
Barett went down to the hold and grabbed a bucket, mop and gallon of bleach. He hadn't expect the prisoner to strike at him like that and, he really didn't mean to break her jaw, training was what he called it, but it was to late now for that. It always amazed him how head wounds bled so much.
Fifteen minutes later she was wrapped up and secured inside the cooler, the oxygen tank and tubes, to help her breath, all set.The room smelled heavily of bleach, but looked clean, he grabed a shirt from one of the rooms and changed his pants. He really liked them, but running around with dried blood on you was no many to keep low profile.
He figured she was good for at least three hours before the tank ran out. Hauling it out to the dock and rolling it on the two small plastic wheels at the far end he casually walked the cooler to the end of the dock and waited.
Rick and Utah Drove the Car around the Brothel, but only once. If they went twice they were sure the camera's would pick that up and flag the car. Rick was impressed with the amount of security that he saw. There were infared sensors, hidden cameras everywhere, and concealed firepoints all across the front of the complex, but very little across the back, which meant they only expected a frontal attack of some kind. Then again, he hadn't walked around the back yet. It was only noticeable to the trained eye, but it was all there, cleverly hidden and disguied into the farm.
Parking the car 2 miles away at a scenic overlook, they hiked to the top of a small hill to the north and scoped out the complex from there. With some high tech spotting scopes and camera's that Rick had brought along. There were two deliveries of food and alcholic beverages that came and went to the large barn, converted into a theater and rooms. Four girls hung out at a above ground pool behind the barn, and several wandered the grounds. The guards carried german H&K SP89 submachine guns and twoway radios, they were constantly coming and going from the grain silo across the parking from the Barn, but never spent anytime in the Barn or house itself.
This seemed strange to Rick and Utah, possibly indicating that what ever they were protecting, it wasn't really the girls, or the business it was something else, probably in the silo itself.
What does Rick want to do next ?
“Well, what do you think they are hiding down there?” Rick asked.
“I'm bet they have a missile in there.” Utah answered. “That or a rocket they plan on using to take over the world. You can't have an evil genius who doesn't have plans involving a hidden missile silo.”
“I must say, I am surprised at their heighten level of alertness. You usually don't see it, even with professionals. Either they are moving something soon or they are expecting some unwanted cow polk coming by. If that is true, we have some other major player on the board we haven't seen yet or they are looking for us and we have a serious leak problem.”
“They sure are as busy as a pissed off nest of ants. Makes you wonder why. High-end brothels have customers coming and going all day long but those guards sure aren't acting like they are there to protect some rick boy's anonymity.”
“Let's get closer to the back side and see how tight this place is locked down.” Rick said. “Let's move along that back fence. It should give us enough cover to move in close to the back of the barn.”
The two brothers leap frogged down from the hill slow and careful. One would look out for the other and then give the signal, a double-finger English solute, to move to a new spot. It was a game they had played since they could stand knee high to their dad. The skill became nature to them and then as country-hill boys in the military, they became kings of the sniper stalk; well Barett was the king and they were his dukes.
After more than an hour of sliding on their bellies and noting infrared sensors and hidden cameras and watching a man, obviously a customer of the brothel, puke up his guts from a night of what must have been exciting inebriation, they brothers had moved in close to the barn. Two girl's stood close by under a tree smoking and chatting in Russian. Neither Rick or Utah could make out what they were saying but their presence was annoying as it was keeping them from getting closer.
A male voice as raw as rusty saw blade called to the two girls and a guard moved into view. He wasn't attempting to hide his H&K at all. He moved over to the two girls. All three became tense.
Rick and Utah stopped breathing. Rick was closest and knew he was in danger of being seen. This was too close for comfort. He eased his knife out of the sheath and readied himself if the guard discovered him.
Both Rick and Utah held their breaths, it was a very tense situation. There was no doubt they could take out the all three of them if need be, but that would cause problems.
The Guard was talking with both hands, the left one wearing a black leather glove, and moving not as fast as the other. The two girls cowered back from him as he slapped them back hand across the face, then pointing to a sign behind them with the international symbol for no smoking. He keeps pointing down to the ground, like there is something below the dirt. He takes off the glove revealing a cyborg arm of metal and wires, and makes a death grip with it towards the two girls. At this point they run away, and back into the converted barn.
Picking up the two cigarete butts he double checks to make sure they are out and heads back to the silo area.
You can see that the power for the whole comlex runs off a generator station in the garage like area behind the barn, the steady hum of a diesal generator adding to the background noise of the farm. Thick gray lines run overhead to the silo, indicating that it gets most of the power.
One real farmer, an older Half-goat man, herds some small sheep out to a field, turning off a switch on a post before allowing the sheep into the open area not far from the barn. It must be the detectors switch, seeing that, you notice several of them set around on posts and walls all over the complex.
The back door to the barn is left slightly open where the two girls ran in, and no one is in sight.
What do Rick and Utah do ?
Utah signaled Rick with a SANFU sign.
Rick replied via hand signal of “What the hell was that?” while flopping his left arm down like a robot.
Utah just shrugged his shoulders. Neither had seen anything like the cybernetic arm before. Rick was closer to the barn door so he signaled back to Utah that he would go and check it out while Utah moved forward to the spot where the guard had kept pointing to the ground.
Rick crawled forward tot a post and switched off the detector and moved up to the barn door. He waited and listened for anything before he moved forward.
Rick checked over the area one last time and then simply stepped inside the door, gun in one hand, knife in the other.
The dark narrow hallway went straight back about ten feet, then did a t-split left and right. The smell of cooked food, old wood and stone mixed with the heavy scent of burning jasmine incense.
He let his eyes adjust for a second, while he listened to the sounds of the building. The clanging of pots and pans, and running water from faucets seems to be coming from the right hall, the left hall is poorly lighted and quiet. Rick sneaks to the end of the hall, on the way down he passes two doors, one unlocked the other with a heavy commercial stainless steel lever bar lock. A sign on the door in several languages read," Do not enter " and had a electical shock symbol next to it.
On the wall in the hall to the right, towards what he quessed was the kitchen was a exit plan map, showing a basic breakdown of the barn, typical government regulation stuff.
Rick grabbed the map off the wall for future use and looked down the right side hall. The typical noises of a busy bar kitchen could be heard, the hallway turned again after twelve or so feet to the left. Down the hall to his left it ended in another tee intersection. This hallway was dark and quiet, and from the map it looked like it went to some offices and a large vip room area. At the end of the hall and to his right is a set of stairs heading up to the second floor. He hears voices upstairs talking about the upcoming party for all the VIP's this weekend and the plans for all the girls, something about a big show and dance they are doing in the club. The voices start moving his direction then stop.
" Do you smell that ?" the dark husky womens voice says.
" I can't smell like you, especially over all the scents we pump into the vents in here, what do you sense ?" a higher and younger sounding female voice responds in a thick southern English accent.
It was odd for Rick to hear the English, and wondered why they were talking up the hall from Him.
What does he do?
Meanwhile back at the pier Barett sits at a large wood table outside of the little cafe. The two Macedonians sit across from him, staring at the papers Barett has provided them about the contract Shelia has drawn up. She must have been a lawyer in a past life he mused after reading them himself. The papers basically state that they will be paid for information, that will be shared for intelligent purposes, and that they will not be turned into theirown government.
They seem hesitant to make the deal, and Barett had to show the money and promise to get them help if things turned bad in their own country. He didn't know if that was true or not, but hoped it would work, it had for him.
After about a hour of conversation they agreed and signed. Barett hands them the money and a copy of the contract.
After stiching up the bigger guy in their van with his med kit and getting him some good meds, they head over to the boat. The wound was bad looking but not serious, and cleaned up well.
" Look, we know you guys are good. or you wouldn't have made it this far, so let me get you some weapons and gear we confiscated."
They nod and follow him onto the boat.
" Sorry about shooting you and the like, I think your one of the few people I have ever shot at that lived.... In my book that makes you very lucky."
Psy looks at Barett and around the boat.
" What do you need us to do ?"
" We need some backup on a little party we are going to crash, well you are going to crash on Romans new boat...thing is, we want him alive, and we want as much intel as we can get. So have fun, but try not to sink the boat or kill all the important people, makes them harder to interrorgate."
" Ok, sounds similiar to our plans, how will we contact you."
The big guy with the bandages asks.
" Here is a radio, go get some rest, relax, act like tourists, I will contact you later tonight. Until then or if things change, this boat is the place to meet at."
Grabbing two duffle bags full of weapons and gear and tossing them over to the two macedonians, Barett gives them the commanders nod, signalling the conversation is over, time to move out.
They take the hint, grab the bags and head down the dock towards town. Barett hopes they don't get killed of courtmartialed for this, but they started on their own, he was hoping at lest this would give them a chance of surviving. Locking up the boat, he heads into town himself, looking for a motorcycle to rent, he needed to do his own recon of the island.
The building map was god sent. Rick quickly scanned the layout and made his decision to hide down the narrow dark hallway that wrapped around the VIP Room. He didn’t retreat far in order to be able to overhear what these ladies were talking about. Logically, this hallway was the longer route if they were heading to any part of the building and should be less traveled. Rick wondered if it was built this way to be a hidden area used to have spy equipment set up to watch or listen on the going-ons inside the VIP room. He noted to himself to keep his eyes open.
The dark hallway is narrow and long, the whole building from looking at the map is a series of halls and back halls. A place to get lost in, or to lose someone. Rick hides around the corner on the southeast edge of the building. The voices change in pitch as they desend the staircase to the lower level and turn to head towards the club area.
" No I think everything should be fine....we should have everything that Mr. Roman requires for his visit....Yes his private room upstairs is being readied.."
The lighter younger sounding voice is saying.
"Very good, very good...I have a special assignment for you when he comes, It involves some of the recording equipment we just had installed, I just don't understand all this new computer setup stuff."
The Huskier female voice says.
" Is he still coming in Tomorrow ?"
"Yes, that is what we have been told, but he always changes things up, don't bet to heavy on the first night seeing him, he usually doesn't visit us until he has been here a few days."
" Very good Madam De Savant, and what about the strage noises from the basement ? The girls keep asking, some of them are getting scared ?"
" Tell them they will all go away soon...very soon I hope. Turn the music up on the club, and keep putting the incense in the vents to hide the smell, soon we will be rid of Roman's abominations."
After that the voices die down, and Rick is left alone in the hall. The sounds of air moving through the ducts and the faint sound of Euro-techno music fill the empty space.
Checking the hallway, he finds plenty of wires and Camera points built into the walls. He is certain, all things done in back rooms of this place, have a picture record. Insurance of the darkest kind he thinks.
He can hear from the other side of the door down the hall from him a vaccum kick on, then doors being opened, soon the door just down from him to the northwest starts to open.
What does Rick do ?
Meanwhile in a dark stone floored room that reeked of wet dirt and death, Carla sat in a chair. The dark clothe hood over her head blocking out the single ray of light intruding on the space through a crack in the floor above. She was tied to the chair with a series of large white zip-ties. The plastic lines cutting into her flesh around her ankles and wrists, atempting to ensuring that escape would be painful and near inpossible.
Two large male figures in masks stood in the corner, preparing the waterboarding torture/interrorgation device, the buckets of icecold water lined up againest the wall. For three hours previously they had been using the best methods they knew to get information out of her, but nothing was working. She had been conditioned by the best before being released into the field to go deep undercover, to operate without any backup. Once Carla had been held for two weeks in Persian, in a secret police prison, a mere two years ago, before escaping. Nothing these Russian amatuers could do really scared her, but she needed to get her bearings, find out where she was, what time it was, and who they really were. They acted like Roman's guys, but they asked all the wrong questions, not about Rick or 'Mannassas Kingdom' but about smuggling, and metals and Zombies. Things she really didn't know anything about.
Carla had managed to free her hands from the zip ties while the two of them worked to set up the water board. They made a mistake by putting her hands behind her back, out to sight. When the first guy came to lean her back, she straight armed him with the palm of her fist right into his nose, breaking it.
Grabbing his gun out of his belt, she fired two shots to the chest of the second guy coming at her, then one to the head, he fell only a few inches from her. Grabbing the first guy by the mask she thrust the gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger. Ripping the hood off her head she quickly cut the zip ties from her ankles and stood againest the wall waiting for the backup, gun in hand. Only a few seconds later three heavily armed guys rush into the room, and three shots to the head later, Carla was well armed and running. She had 12 rounds left in the handgun, a 12 gauge shotgun over her shoulder and a stungun in her hand. The old stone walls of the building echoed with her footsteps, and she wanted to scream with every step. Her barefeet and swollen ankles taking a real beating on the rough stone floor, rounding a bend in the dark hall, she found a door with sunlight bursting forth at the uneven edges, kicking the door open she hits the guard standing outside it with the stungun, and keeps moving. The bright light burns her eyes, but she just keeps going, the old cobblestone street and touristy looking buildings could be out of any old eastern city, but as she falls around a old stonewall eight blocks away and collapses to the ground. A recognition of where she is hits her, it the old town area of Dubrovnik.
Carla knows she can't stop running, but she also can't be running around downtown with a shotgun over her shoulder and a gun in each hand. Barefooted, wearing only a pair of light cotton pajama like pants and shirt, and nothing else, she swears in several different languages.
Throwing the shotgun into a trashcan, and tucking the pistol into the waistband of the pants, making sure to cover the handle with the shirt, she dodges and weaves from alley to alley, street to street till she made it to the sea shore and tourist beach area. Stealing some sandals and a towel, and washing up at a seaside restroom, Carla sits in a stall on top of the toilet, trying to gather her wits. She is starving and hurt, the last few hours of interrogation and mild torture have taken a toll on her, resting her head on the metal partition wall, she dozes into a restless sleep, trying to gather strengh for what she knows will be a dangerous game of cat and mouse. It has been a long time since she had to take a life, and so many so quickly, gnawed at the back of her mind, invading her dreams, bringing back painful memories of her past. After a few hours, she sneaks out from the restroom area and heads down the beach towards the private houses and secluded beach areas of the rich, looking for a house she can hole up in, gather some more strengh and make contact with her Prime, her emergency contact.
Back on Hvar:
It was decision time. Rick knew the cameras he saw running in the place were more likely than not based on a Linux system and with his knowledge and training, he had thought of a few ways to hijack and eavesdrop into the system. Every camera was a potential entry point, no matter how high on the wall it was placed or how secure and secret they thought they were. Rick thought of the encapsulation mechanisms cameras used to guarantee their integrity but a simple rogue hack, thinking SSL on his part with on the IP-based surveillance system simply did not have the security layers that the users thought it had. People largely assumed they were fool proof and judged themselves secure. But this assumption was often a god sent for hackers like Rick because people left gaping hole in their security. People thought that no one could access the network where the devices were located. But that wasn’t true. Physical access to the video network was a little tricky by not impossible.
So Rick took a risky move. He needed some time to hack the security system and what better way than posing as a cleaning servant.
A servant was what he hoped he would fine coming from behind the door anyway. He jumped up as high as he could and at the apex he spread-eagled his arms and legs out to hold himself up above whoever was coming in. It was like being Spiderman, only without the cheesy spandex outfit; And without the handy webbing to tangle up his victim.
Rick hung in the air, the narrow hallway making his job even easier.
The door opened and a vaccum pushed its way into the hall. A thin, tall man in a frenchmaids costume with a mask on, wearing four inch black heels follows behind the vaccum. Rick had heard of this before, some CEO's paid good money to do this, strange as it sounded. He paid no attention to the ceiling and closed the door behind him, leaving himself exposed in more than one way.
Rick drops down on the unsuspecting crossdresser, delivering a solid elbow to the neck. The Man goes down, but isn't out, Rick hits him two more times in the face with his booted foot before the maid like guy drops.
There Rick stands, over the knocked out body of a man wearing a Frenchmaid outfit that would fit him.
What does Rick do ?
Meanwhile, in a beach house on the coast of Dubrovik, Carla cleaned the 9mm handgun and wiped it down for prints and blood, placing it in a plastic bag.
She had found the empty house and override the security system at the control panel. Finding some clothes in a upstairs closet that looked better than wha tshe was wearing and weren't covered in blood. She decided to dress herself in a pair of jeans, sandals and a flowing silk top. The oversized beach hat should hide her features and help her blend in. Sticking all the dirty clothes into a garbage bag, to be dropped at the first public trashcan she could find.
The pantry had a good stock on canned meats and vegtables, and the Tuna was just the right kind of protein to help her gain some strengh back so she opened one and ate it straight.
Checking the phone lines she made one call, not wanting the line to be traced it was a voice drop box, set up for emergency calls, if things like this happened. In another two hours there would be a reply on another line, she would need to move and find a public phone to retrieve that message.
Finishing off the tuna and sticking another two cans in the borrowed handbag she found with the clothes, Carla locked the place up again, not wanting to let anyone know she had been there. She wandered down the beach towards the Marina, Looking for the first boat headed towards Split.
She needed to find Rick, and his brothers, Right away. She had very important information for them, and it would mean their deaths if she didn't get to them quickly.
“Well, this is stupid,” Rick said to the knocked out man. “You’re a real straight shooter aren’t you.”
But he couldn’t believe his luck, no matter how perverse it seemed. Rick quickly stripped the man down while he turned often to move the vacuum back and forth a number of times to make sure the Doppler sound effect continued. Rick knew he needed to plan this thing out. He didn’t want to end up running across the open grounds as cross-dresser. Guns and knives and crazy men with cybernetic arms were one thing, but giving Utah ammo for endless teasing was another. Utah and Barett would never, ever let that go.
Rick removed his clothes and put on the outfit. The shoes wouldn’t fit him so he would have to go barefoot. He needed a large enough sack to hide the queer man in. Drapes for something like that would do. He would have to dump him somewhere too. Downstairs with a two bottles of hard liquor would do the trick.
Rick would also need to move around and find the computer security room. He needed something to stuff his close into also.
As he thought about it, he doubted this place had a server room, but it might. That would be perfect as few people ever go into the loud air-conditioned room. He figured ten minutes of hacking would be enough to allow himself to open a back door portal into their system he could tap into from the yacht. If there was no server room, then there needed to be a security room where all the wires would feed into. That room would surely be manned. He would have to see if he could find another way to access remotely into it from a manager’s office or something similar. He had his work cut out for him.
Rick looked at the map again, his mind thinking about the best location for the IT room. It probably wouldn't be labeled that way, it was just going to be a matter of elimination. Heading back down the hall he dropped the now tied up body in the mechanical room next to the stairs heading up to the Private rooms. The AC equipment hummed along trying to keep up with the rising morning temperatures. As pleasant as the island was, 85 degrees with humidity still needed to be controled. Just up the stairs was another bar, which he was sure contained enough empty bottles to frame the naked man on the floor, propped up againest the wall, his face starting to bruise and swell. It always amazed Rick how in the movies people went down with just one hit, it hardly ever worked that way in real life. He ditched his clothes in a garbage bag he found and hid them in the ceiling, above the drop down acoustic tiles.
He checked the outfit, then headed up the stairs, barefoot and feeling slightly exposed. He had managed to hid a handgun under the apron, and a knife in the fake bra, but it still made him feel naked. The uniform was made of silk and was was comfortable despite its appearence. Rick didn't like it, but a disquise was a disquise, at least the black mask hid his face.
The stairs lead up to a small landing off of which was a kitchen for the second floor bar. Boxes of liquor and other supplies were piled againest the walls, cases of expensive beer were stacked up to the ceiling next to a small bathroom for employees. He could hear someone moving around in the kitchen washing dishes, but for the most part he was alone. Easing out the door and into the hallway dragging the cannister vacum along with him. Acting like he was cleaning and heading somewhere.
Just as he headed down the hall headed over to the storage room behind what appeared to be the madams office, two girls in lingere open the door and head down the hall, right at him.
What does Rick do ?
Carla sat on the ferry, watching the coast slip by as they sailed north to Split. It by far was the shortest route even if they made several stops along the way. In Stari Grad on the Island of Hvar, she was to find a dropbox with cash and alias passports that would allow her to move out of country freely if she needed. The side effects of the drugs that had been given her were all gone by now, thanks to her advanced metabolism and the cybornetic implants. She was sure now that the people that had been interrorgating her were associated with Roman, but the pistol had the serial numbers ground off of it.
The location they had held her in, was rented to a coporation that made high tech weapons and gear for various governments around the world, a "Stark" industries of the real kind. They were know to dabble in medical implants and Cybernetics, which she was sure, was the way they tracked her down. The lines of who was who, who worked for who were getting very twisted, it was becoming like some J.R.R. Tolkien plot, dark and complicated.
But that was the politics of Contraband, a Agents blues, everyone was a victim, everyone was a enemy.
She closed her eyes to meditate and open her mind to new ideas.
In a couple of hours she would be funded and ready to find Rick and his Brothers, the organization was looking for them right now for her, they insisted that she leave everything and head back for debriefing and removal of the cybernetic implants but she didn't have time to go to Tel Aviv right now.
The 'United Industrial Corporation' as is was known formally on the stock exchange, was one of the largest single NGO's out there. They supplied weapons, Weapons systems for military aircraft and landbased vechicles and special operations equipment. After the great conflict they had bought Boeing and Remington Arms, and a few other floundering North American companies. Even the Brothers had flown Aircraft they had made and shot weapons they had developed. There were two large factories in Los Angeles that produced weapons not allowed in the E.U. that they had seen before.
It was U.I.C that had rented the place in Dubrovnik that Carla had been held in. Her best guess was that they were part of the large Corporate Security Force that operated more like mercs. than mall security guards. They had large interests in stealing E.o.H weapons technology, and the like, according to the rumors. The rumors also stated that these guys hired ex-special forces personel, and hardcore criminals to do some of the dirty corporate espionage and body guard work for CEO's.
If Roman was trying to broker a deal with them, he must have something very hot.
Her intel on the Medically Altered Drones, or "Zombies" as Rick had called them, when he meet them in the Park in Paris. Showed that they Were lobotomized victims of a illegal genetics research facitity, that they had been implanted with a cybernetic overide, making them more like robots. They were almost immune to pain and distractions, and had steroid and adrenaline boosters built in. They were in essence, 'Zombies' but very controlled ones, a secret army of completly obedient soliders.
The thought made a shiver run up her spine, even as the warm breeze caressed her arms, as it came off the Dalmatian coast. The series of islands that were between Dubrovnik and Split were littered with private beaches and yacht clubs. A huge 'Free body Kulture' or Nudist as the Yanks called them, following from the E.U. inhabited the clothing optional beaches. More than once Carla had herself run free on these beaches, enjoying the sun on her bare skin. But now other thoughts invaded these memories and she stared at the water, wondering what other monsters she would face.
Meanwhile on the island of Hvar, Barett sat on a motorcycle, looking over a map of the Tiny island. The clear bluegreen water of the ocean reflecting brightly the early afternoon sun. He wished Dave Coontail was with him now, even though almost everyone in the tourist traps spoke some english, out here in the country it was different, and Dave was good with those kind of things. Barett was ok with these kind of things, all the training and gear, gadgets and tricks made getting along ok. But part of him missed his brother just a bit, and liked how they worked off each other.
He was looking down at the map, helmet still on, when down the road he heard the quiet roar of a supercharged motor, being a car guy he had to look.
It was at least 10 clicks away, but the sound carried over the open ground well. The dark Blue outline of the low slung Bugatti as it cornered, was unmistakable. Now there were lots of Bugatti Veyrons out there, and it was the rich boys summer hot spot, but still. He was just thinking about Dave, who owned that same car, and here was one, heading away from him, down the road to Stari Grad.
The thing was, he really didn't know where Dave was, it could be him, or it couldn't be, But something told him, it was Dave.
He stuffed the map into his pants pocket without folding it and kicked the little 150cc bike to life. It was the biggest one they had for rent and with the island only being two miles wide and 20 miles long, the bike was more than adequate. He had on a full facial helmet and a black leather jacket, he had bought in split, and the little honda CRX150 was a modified enduro, which was better than the scooter they tried to rent him, but not by much.
He opened it up, and raced down the winding road after the Buggatti. Barett knew he couldn't get too close to the blue sports car, if it was Dave there was no way he could keep up if Dave wanted to lose him. So he eased off when he caught sight of the car again and held back just a little, trying to gain only slightly on the dark blue car carving its way across the island.
Meanwhile Utah Blaine, hidden in the thick bushes and tall grass along the fenceline, kept watch on the backdoor of the converted barn, waiting on Rick. He didn't like the idea of Rick being on his own in the "House of Prostitution", with armed Cyborgs walking the grounds. But it wouldn't work if two of them scouted out the place. Someone needed to play lookout. Besides, Rick could easily be mistaken for a customer, but it would be a harder con for Utah to pull it off.
He scanned the grounds again, looking for signs of alarms or danger, but besides the buzzing of the insects and the stagnant, humid air, not much was going on. It was getting near lunch time and the locals took extra long breaks around that time, security took the same liberties it seemed. Only one young guy, about 20 years old or so, wandered the grounds. Mostly trying to chat up the girls hanging out on the backporch of the house, that were eating and smoking, more smoking than eating.
Utah was amazed at the amount of smoking that went on in this island, perhaps it was his personal beliefs, or just the L.A. health food and fitness enviroment he had lived in, but the Dalmation Coast people really loved to smoke, a lot.
They were running short on time, and he hoped Rick would hurry it up and make a smooth exit. The whole Cyborg thing bothered him some. They really didn't know to much about these guys or what was the reason behind the implants. From the de-briefing he had gotten from the 'Organization' they had mentioned briefly that there were known Cyborgs operating in Roman's group. What little knowledge that he had about them indicated it was very expensive to have done, and costly to maintain. According to the experts, most implants and cybornetic additions were only good for ten years before needing to be replaced. Most of the guys they knew about had lost limbs, in battle or accidents and had the work done in Russian. THey tended to resort to crime to pay off the heavy bills, and used black market parts to add illegal features to the implants. Like guns, darts, projectile weapons and smuggling compartments, it was like a series of bad pirate peg legs with jewels in them. One thing was for sure, the experts all agreed, it was like an addiction to the patient, and they constantly wanted more replacements of body parts and newer equipment. It was like a drug to them always wanting more.
Utah sat in the dirt, sweating and being eaten by various bugs, hoping Rick would return soon, so they could go get something to eat and look up the girls they meet coming into dock. Before the real party began this evening on the Boat.
Carla walked the coblestoned tourist streets of Stari Grad, eating a wrap type of sandwich and sipping on a bottled water. She was heading for the King's Calvary watch shop, a contact point and drop box location. She was overly ready to get to the mainland and find Rick, the lastest intel said he was in Split as of yesterday, driving his flashy Grand Turismo, a easy enough car to find. If she couldn't find Rick, perhaps Utah or even Dave, he drove a flashy Bugatti Veyron, and was said to be in the area as well.
She was beginning to sense a pattern with the brothers and their cars, even Utah's Astin Martin had a certain amount of flash to it. It was clear that the brothers understood, women liked men with nice cars and tailored clothes, and Rick was always well dressed. She had to admit, if possible she would bed him, if for no other reason than to see what it would be like. Something about that west coast american confidence and abundant energy looked like a good combination.
Barett on the other hand, even though he didn't drive the flashy sports car, understood that women liked the look of money. The Big Mercedes SUV all decked out screamed money in a very rugged," come climb a mountain in a far off land with me", kind of way. Unfortunatley there were so many of those Mercedes used in government and private ceo type of fleets it was much harder to spot, she had seen three of the black ones already this morning, and she was sure that was Baretts motivation in buying the beast of a carriage.
Carla also needed to find Maria, who was rumored to be on the island of Hvar as well. It seems that from all different directions, they had all ended up being in the same place at the same time. In her opinion that was not a good thing. She had thought of contacting Maria first, hoping she could get word to Rick and the brothers faster. But she gave up that thought, feeling Maria saw her more as a threat to her than a friend.
She walked up to the door of the little shop, no more than twelve feet wide and thirty feet deep. A small calico cat man sat at a little work bench in the back of the store behind the glass display cases, working intently on a antique clock. The small space was decorated with expensive silk rugs and ornately framed mirrors, a sense of old world wealth to the atmosphere. He looked up as the little bell on the door rang, and smiled at her.
"It's good to see you again, my little angel....come with me in to the back room."
Carla smiled back and followed him back into a storage like room filled with small boxs.
The older man turned to her in the back room, his face changing from the smiling kind grandfather to something darker and more menacing.
" It is not good that you stay in the field, I am highly recommending that you head back!"
He gives her the glare of a senior officer, a deep and authoratative stare, one that could bore into your soul and make you sit down when you wanted to run and hide.
Carla stared back hard at him, never flinching.
" your 'Jedi Mind Tricks' won't work on me, I have been trained to resist those things. I will return when the mission is over as per my instructions."
He forced a slight smile and nodded.
" Please forgive a old man for trying, it is my duty you know."
He motioned towards a plain brown cardboard box on the desk, taped shut and bearing a bar code and series of numbers and letters in a long string on top of the barcode but nothing more.
She opened the box in one quick motion of knife blade concealed in her hand and then deprogramed the flashing code on the top of the metal box inside, on a small keyboard. The action practiced over and over again in her recruitment days. The box was lined with explosives, and the keycode her own private number. If she failed to correctly open the cardboard box and deprogram the bomb then the entire contents of the box and everyone nearby would have been blown to bits.
It was a safty the organization had built in to get hot items to agents in the field, and for so basic looking, had proven to be very effective.
She removed the box and took out the contents, checking each carefully.
Three passports with photo ID and pre-stamped. Twenty thousand dollars in Euro's and a small unmarked Walther PPK with surpressor. She tucked the pistol into the small of her back and put the other items into her purse.
"I need to go now, perhaps I can return and we can have some of your famous coffeecake."
She turned to leave, not wanting to stay long.
He waved her to leave, and spoke softly to her as she pressed forward towards the door.
" Don't forget, duty sometimes also requires us to stand down and let others do the work. "
The door shut softly and the old man was left once again by himself.
“Act natural and don’t stare,” Rick thought. He was shire he was going to blow his cover and have to fight his way out. He moved over to the wall, out of the way of the two ladies and gave a polite bow of the head.
Amazingly, the two girls walked past him as if he wasn’t even there. They didn’t even look at him.
Odd reaction to a man dressed up in a French maid and black mask, he though. This has got to be one wild joint. He pulled his vacuum down the hallway and counts 8 doors. He guested these where the “work rooms”. The second to the last door on the right is a double door that lacks excessive adornment. Quickly checking his map, he guessed this to be the control room, like the spider’s hide in the middle of a web. He put his ear up to the door for a second and listens. There doesn’t seem to be any sound coming from within.
Rick looks around in hall and finds an electric outlet. Might as well play the part of the cleaning lady. He plugged in the vacuum and began to clean the hall carpet. In inches his way carefully over to the double doors and then after vacuuming around it, he boldly puts his hand on the handle and turns.
It was locked.
But that didn’t slow him down because Rick knew double doors though a status symbol of success, where inheritably weaker than a single door that locked into a frame. Putting his height behind it, he slammed his shoulder into the center where the two doors came together and lifts the handle at the same time. It popped open and Rick entered the room like he was supposed to be going in and clean up.
“Bingo.” Rick says as he stepped pass the threshold in with the vacuum still running. No one is inside the room. Across the room is a desk with a mess of papers on the left side. There is also a computer monitor and it is on. Whoever worked here seemed to have thought that locking the door was adequate security protection. Unlucky them.
Rick left the vacuum running while he quickly sat down and began hacking into the computer.
The Madam was coming up the main lobby stairwell, her mind troubled with the unfolding events of recent days.
She was past her prime but hand been content for the most part as her youth and virility had slipped away which meant she no longer had to do the work required by her younger girls. She liked where she hand ended up. She had money, a beautiful home on the hills overlooking the Adriatic. And she had her wealth of secrets that keep the money flowing to support her lifestyle. Most people paid her no mind. She liked it that way and enjoyed working behind the scene in anonymity. It gave her a sense of power.
But because she was off the radar, she had caught the attention of Roman. And that was a problem. He put all of her careful planning and scheming at risk. If she didn’t do what he told her, her lifestyle would be in jeopardy, maybe even her life. So she had been roped in.
But he was like a smelling pile of horse shit: wherever he went, the flies swarmed around him. And where there was a swarm of flies, people started to take notice and that wasn’t good for her line of business.
As she reached the second floor landing of the barn she heard a hum of a vacuum motor. That was odd. They had already cleaned the second floor. Why would someone be up here cleaning? Her first thought was that one of the young girls had made a mess and was trying to cover it up and that made her a bit mad. She would have a word with her!
She turned the corner and headed down the hallway that led to each room. Her heart gave a start. The electric cord to the vacuum clearly showed where it was. It was in her office, doors wide open; doors she knew were locked.
Someone had broken in and by the sounds of it they were still in there! Angry at whoever was in her private office, she raced down the hall and burst into the room.
A canister vacuum was running unattended but no one was there. She looked around in a panic. Racing over the south wall she hurriedly opened with a chest and typed in the code. Inside she pulled out a black metal box and opened it. Inside where four glass tubs filled with a reddish amber fluid. She let an exhale of relieve. It was still here.
Turning back she searched the room as the vacuum continued to whine. It looked as if someone had been sitting at her desk. Flicking the mouse, the computer screen came to life. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary but she was scared. Someone had been in here.
But who? She guessed it didn’t really matter because she knew the swarm of flies were beginning to hover.
The Rooftop mechanical equipment hummed along in the hot and humid evening air, as the dark clothed figure put the remote control on the bomb and programed in the security code. The old office building was the tallest in the area and would deliver the blast of the hightech bomb over the greatest range. The bomb looked less like a weapon and more like some scientific weather measuring device, which is how they managed to get it on the roof in the first place. The fake tag on the side indicated that it was used for measuring humidity and wind, and not to touch.
They needed to know if the stolen plans worked, and how much damage it would do, EPDM devices they had seen before, but this one was different. A highly concentrated implosion was to create a pulse that would wipe out human and animal life and leave the infrastructure behind, roads, water, power, all still there and working.
The "Leaders" had called it the perfect weapon. He had seen some of the pictures from South America where one was said to have gone off. A entire town, every living creature dead, and nothing else disturbed.
This was the test for them now, a unsuspecting civilian population in a major, developed nation. This would bring them to power soon, this would get them noticed.
He slide the remote detonator into his jacket pocket and raised the antenna on the bomb. There was a hill just outside of town, that matched up with the roof of the building 6 kilometers away. He wasn't sure if that was really far enough, but he was willing to do what he was told, even if it killed him.
The long trek to the other side of town, dodging and weaving down the back alleys to make sure he wasn't followed took him till almost dawn.
Sitting on the hill with a clear view of the building, a small video recording camera set up next to him for visual proof, set to record the whole event.
He waited for the signal to be given, then he would detonate the device, and watch the world fear the new terrors about to be released upon them.
Shelia stared in dis-belief at the TV screen in the bar she was eating lunch at. The images of the dead people, lying in their gore were infuriating to her, the intel on the counterespionage lines had no indication that Glasglow might be bombed, but it had been bombed, 5,000 plus people dead in the streets, where they lay.
Just like the stories the brothers told of the bomb in South America. no real structural damage, infastructure was all intact. There was massive use of anti-viral, anti-chemical suits and cleam up by the authorities, but Shelia could tell, it was one of the EPDM devices. It was causing mass hysteria in all major cities in the E.U., and several fringe groups had taken credit, but Shelia knew only three organizations could make and use this device.
Things were to hot to get a secured line back to London, so all she could do was wait. In two hours she was to meet up with Rick and the others, this might change everything.
Security everywhere went up several notches, thanks to the bombing, and that made getting around more difficult, and slower.
Carla stopped and watched more of the footage from Glasgow, Scotland, through the window of a coffee shop. It was Bad, but not as bad as it was going to get.
Soon this 'War' would go global, and everyone would be affected. Right now the E.o.H was staying neutral, and not saying much. Only a few people knew about their bomb, but if that leaked out, things would get worse. IT wasn't them that set it off, but they did invent it, and people would not be able to see the difference.
Carla was sure that only a few people really understood, Glasgow wasn't a terrorist attack, it was a sales presentation. It was proof that the bomb worked, worked well in fact, and was now for sale. They didn't have many details, or reasons for why Glasgow was targeted, besides the scientific discoveries that started the Genetic Alteration Project ( G.A.P for short ) the begining of the Hybrids. But it was safe territory, unused to such conflict.
The next sales presentation would take place soon, it was almost certain. That is how these kind of men operated. She was only guessing now, but seeing that things were starting to rachet up, the "Lords of War" needed to make some money, and peace and negotiations didn't feed the war chests, they wanted Bellicose speaches and promises of retrubution and justice.
How Roman played into all of this exactly was still vague, but he did, and he knew more than his fake playboy style revealed.
She was wandering the streets of Stari Grad when turning a corner she watched as a Blue Bugatti Veyron stopped across the street from her. Stepping back into the shadows of the stone building, she watched. Sure enough, a thin well dressed man stepped out of the car, walked over to the passanger and helped out a attractive taller women. Dave Coontail was in town, and with Maria of all people, acting like a couple of sorts. Carla watched as the two of them entered a high-end dress shop, then looked for a better spot to keep an eye on them. This was either a very good blessing, or a very bad combination, either way she was going to make contact.
Rick rolled over the heating vent, dropped down the dark closet and then walked quickly out the back door as if he was just another worker at the complex.
It had been close! And as he reflexed upon his actions, it had been almost foolhardy to enter the building. He had learned nothing about the man with cybernetic arm. But he had planted his Trojan. They would find out soon enough.
Rick hurried over to the thick bushes along the fence line and dropped out of sight from the main building. Utah was there waiting for him.
“Have fun playing in the ‘floating world’?” Utah asked. His voice was annoyed.
“Weird place,” Rick whispered back. “No trace of the guy with metallic arm. All I saw were pillow girls and a fag dressed as a French maid outfit. But they are definitely hiding something in their basement.”
“Security?” Utah asked as he started leading back out of the field to evacuate the place.
“I was able to dump a Trojan into their videos but I was interrupted before I could look at anything.”
“Can you remote in?” Utah asked as he came to the outer fence and lifted the barbed wire for Rick to slip under.
Rick slipped under and returned the favor of holding the fence line up for Utah to slip under. The both dropped prone and waited as a guard, a ragged looking fellow who was obviously not a farmer in farmer attire walked twenty feet from where they were hiding.
“Yeah,” Rick breathed after the man had moved on. “I can get in but there are two problems. First, we will need to be close.”
“And second?”
“I don’t have any of the equipment we will need with me.”
Utah rolled his eyes at this bit of information.
“We will have to try and see if we can pick up a few things here. I only hope they have an electronics shop here on the island. I could try something with Iridium OpenPort satellite service on the yacht but that isn’t secure yet and it will take me a few hours to lock it down before I trust using it. But other than that, you could easily monitor things and enjoy the show when I go in with Sheila!” Rick said while he made an obscene gesture.
Utah smacked Rick on the back of the head, but laughed none-the-less at the joke.
They were running out of time and totally oblivious to the events that had just happened that were changing the world as they knew it.
“That whole Cyborg thing bothers me.” Utah said. We don’t really know much about guys like that or what the reason behind the implants. From the de-briefing I’ve had, Roman was known to have some operating for him.”
“It is expensive to have done.” Rick said.
“It also costs a fortune to maintain it.” Utah said as he jumped over a bolder and spied back to make sure they were not spotted. “According to the experts,” He continued, “most cybernetic are only good for ten years before they need to be replaced. Russian’s are rumored to do most of it and they tended to resort to crime to pay for the heavy bills.”
They crested the hill and jogged the rest of the way to the blue rental car. Utah beat Rick. Jumping in first, he sat down and saw that a light was blinking on his sat-phone. He punched the code into the phone and began to listen. His face turned ghostly white as he listened.
Utah and Rick sat in the car, listening to the BBC radio station DJ's talk about Glasgow. It was hard to hear at some points, as they had done some sight seeing in the city. They both had really liked the castle on a hill in the center of the city.
But what was being reported, It was all something they had heard before, stuff that they had seen first hand, it would scar the people there for decades. After twenty minutes Utah Blaine turned off the radio.
" We best get back to the docks and see how this changes things. I want to make contact with headquarters, but the phone lines are jammed up, everyone wants details, nobody has any. Lets head back, circle the Wagons and plan our next move, this might just give us the distracton we need."
Rick nodded his head. They knew it was a sad day for many people, but it was nothing different than what they lived with everyday. you couldn't stay stopped and mourn forever. They said a silent warriors prayer, then Utah started the car, and headed back to Hvar and the boat.
Rick looked out the window, watching the sea beyond, blue and quiet, acting like nothing important had just happened.
" Do you think the E.o.H was behind this ?"
Utah shook his head in a NO.
"Nah, they would have gone bigger, this was a test. I would go as far as a sales presentation. Someone got this and is starting something big. Remember the intel on the splinter group out of the E.o.H that wanted to wipeout all Hybrids. This sounds like them, they want everyone to get in a big fight, so that they can come to power. We have been chasing shadow arms of their group for the last year. I would guess its them, Roman is tied to one of them, and so on and so forth. Till it comes down to us. Soon they will let us shoot the dogs till we make our way back to their master. Then we can get some real work done, do some real good."
Rick nodded, it was time to shoot some bad guys, make them hurt a little more. The heighted security at the brothel even before the attack in Glasgow, pointed the finger back to Roman again.
" So if all roads lead to Rome, as the saying goes, shouldn't we go there as well."
Utah agreed.
"Lets find Barett and Shelia, and get a location on the guy...we need to talk, Mano e Mano."
The Evo 10 whips along the narrow road, the song 'Demolition Man" blares from the stereo. Utah was getting his 'Game face On' as he called it. He was thinking of ways to make people hurt, he was planning out other people who were now forever silenced in this world, revenge. It was not a pretty face, but it made Rick smile. The hunt was on.
Barett followed the car as best he could, but lost it driving around in Stari Grad. Buzzing the roads he finally came across the Blue Bugatti Veyron parked in front of a series of high-end tourist shops. Barett rolled the bike on past just a little bit slower than the rest of traffic, but not to much. He was sure it was Dave's, the bullet proof glass and beefed up suspension were all he needed to see.
He road on down the street, took a left down a back narrow alley and parked the bike on the opposite street. Sitting on the seat, helmet and jacket still on, he contemplated how he was going to make contact with Dave, without endangering them both, or making Dave angry.
Barett scanned the streets and back alleys, checking out the escape routes and general layout of the old town buildings and streets. A woman standing in the shadows of a building just down from him watching intensely the Bugatti caught him off guard. He swore it was Carla, different hair, but the way she held her cigarette was a dead giveaway.
Barett didn't even pause to think, this needed to happen now. He slid off the bike and walked straight towards her, removing his helmet.
She looked up from the map in her hands, and a look of surprise crossed her face, then disapeared into what looked like sincere sadness.
" We should leave now, and talk."
He said in his best trust me voice.
She nodded and pointed to a little sidewalk cafe within view of the car. Barett nodded and followed her over to the tables on the edge, away from the rest of the late lunch tourist crowd.
Carla looked more tired, and a lot older than he remembered her. Still attractive and poised, he sensed a heavy weight was holding her down, beating her up.
She smiled, ordered a dessert and glass's of wine for the two of them then sat down like she had just run a marathon, a state of relief on her face.
" We need to all meet, soon, I have bad news, and worse news...I need to see Rick. Now !!"
Barett watched the car and nodded at her, " yeah I think a little conference would be good, something is going on and it feels bad. What happened to you ?"
She brushed the hair back from her face to show the bruises.
"I've been kidnapped and tortured, but that isn't the worst of it. More people than those in Glasgow's live are at risk."
Barett looks surprised.
"What happened in Glasgow ?"
Twenty Minutes later she was on the back of Barett's motorcycle headed back to Hvar. Things had gone from odd to down right Evil and he was not going to feel better till he had some real answers.
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