The Last Flight of the Argus (9 page)

The elevator approached the fiftieth floor.

Shepherd was ready for what was coming.

Blood
splatters covered the walls of Gail Griffen’s room.

Lying just a few feet from the apartment door was the shattered body of Orlando Echo. His face was a bloody pulp. His crushed left eyeball dangled from the mass of flesh that was once his face. He still held the fusion gun in his right hand.

A few feet away from him and also lying on the floor was Carlo Giny. The face of this man was also mangled, though not quite as badly. He breathed, but barely. He wouldn't last without immediate medical attention. On the floor next to his ravaged body was an open and empty black briefcase. It was the briefcase the two men brought to Gail Griffen’s apartment.

B’taav aimed his gun at the center of the apartment as he entered. He knew the dwelling’s layout well. To his right was a small bathroom. To his left was the bedroom. The doors leading to both rooms were closed.

Gail Griffen was hiding in either of the two closed rooms or had escaped out the window. B’taav stepped over the first of the two men and knelt down. He felt for a pulse on Orlando Echo. It was no surprise when he found none. He picked up and put away the man's gun.

B’taav stole a quick look at the body and considered what had caused the man his brutal injuries. Orlando was hit with a blunt object, B’taav guessed. Perhaps a wood plank or stone or...

B’taav shook his head. Could Gail Griffen do this kind of damage to an armed man with her bare
fists
?

No
, B’taav thought.
Some person –persons– were hidden in the room. They jumped the men and held them down and beat them…

No.

If there were more people hidden in the apartment, B’taav and Shepherd would have seen or heard them through the various Vid Bugs. Apart from the two men lying in the living room, Gail Griffen was always alone. Always.

Maybe, he thought, she had partners who kept another apartment somewhere else on this floor.

B’taav approached Carlo Giny. The wounds on him were also the result of a severe beating. Fresh blood seeped from a jagged cut on his forehead.

“
Can you hear me?” B’taav whispered. He didn’t look directly at the man, but keep his eyes on the closed doors on either side of the room.

“
Yes,” came a barely audible reply. The man spit up a mouthful of blood.

“
How many people does she have here?”

“
She’s alone,” Carlo muttered. From his throat came a rattling sound that might have been moan. “All alone.”

Carlo Giny took one final breath and was gone.

CHAPTER FOUR

After
what seemed too long a delay, the elevator doors opened. Shepherd stepped into the hallway and pointed his gun in the direction of Gail Griffen’s room. The corridor before him was empty.

“
Ok,” Shepherd said.

He walked to apartment 6345.

B’taav
moved away from the second corpse and edged closer to the apartment window. Outside, there was no ledge. With a sixty-three floor drop, there was no way Gail Griffen could escape that way. It meant she was still in the apartment.

B’taav stared at the doors to either side of him. The bedroom or the bathroom. Gail Griffen was behind one of them. Gail Griffen, the petite, frail looking twenty six year old woman who had somehow beaten two men –one of them armed with a fusion gun– to death.

Gail Griffen. There was more to her. Much more.

You’re either in the bathroom or the bedroom
, B’taav thought.
Door number one or door number two.

The bathroom was small, confined. To the Independent, it was more likely she’d be in the bedroom.

B’taav stepped to the bedroom door and, with his free hand, grasped the doorknob. He slowly, gently, turned it. The door wasn’t locked. With great care, He pushed it open.

The door let out a soft creak but otherwise gave. B’taav stepped back, unsure what to expect. He pressed his body against the wall beside the door and waited. Nothing happened. After a few seconds, he eased off the wall and stared into the room. He found inky darkness.

B’taav’s eyes took only a few seconds to adjust. While they did, the Independent’s stomach churning with thoughts of what lay within, waiting for him to step inside.

Soon, B’taav identified the freshly made bed. Beside it was a night table. On the night table was an antique paperback novel. Beside the night table was a covered window. Beyond that the double door to the closet. One of those doors was open. B’taav spotted no clothing on the hanger and a black suitcase against the inner wall. Gail Griffen was packed up and ready to go.

B’taav aimed his gun at the closet door. He could only see half of the closet’s contents. For all he knew, Gail Griffen was hidden behind the second, closed door.

He had little choice but to check.

Shepherd
reached the door to apartment 6345 and found it open. Like B’taav had done moments before, he listened for any sounds coming from within.

He heard nothing. He thought about calling out for B’taav, but he needed to assess the situation before letting anyone know about his presence.

It was the prudent thing to do.

He also thought about waiting for backup to arrive. By now, Police Officers were on their way up. An overwhelming force would ensure control over the situation.

But what if B’taav lay injured in the apartment?

Gail Griffen’s buy of Merrick Enterprises information had gone sour. A gun was drawn and shots fired. B’taav was in there.

He might be injured.

Officer Shepherd had no choice in the matter. He stepped forward, past the door, stopping at the threshold.

“
By the Gods,” he whispered.

In fifteen years of duty, Officer Shepherd saw plenty of horrors. As the old adage went, you never got used to such sights. But he had never seen anything like
this
before.

Shepherd walked to the first body and shuddered as he checked for a pulse. When he found none he approached the other victim.

B’taav
rested his hand on the closet door. He slid the closet door open and pointed his gun at the darkness within.

There was no one there.

B’taav found the light switch and clicked the closet lights on. A single change of clothes were on a hanger. It was what Gail Griffen wore a few days back, to the restaurant. B’taav reached for the light switch and was about to turn it off when he noticed something lying beside her suitcase.

It was a plastic vial and syringe. B'taav picked the items up. The vial was labeled Ac2. B'taav gasped. The massacre in the apartment suddenly made sense.

“
B’taav?” came a voice from the living room.

B’taav dropped the vial and syringe and rushed to the door leading back to the living room.

“
She’s in the bathroom!” the Independent yelled.

For the first time since knowing him, Shepherd heard terror in the Independent’s voice.

B’taav
sprung out of the bedroom as Gail Griffen smashed the bathroom door from its hinges. Her petite body was transformed into a hulking, muscular monster. Her face was bloated and distorted. Engorged veins ran across her forehead and the blood within them beat wildly against her hideously stretched skin. Her eyes were likewise swollen and wild. Her body, with the exception of her left hand, which hung limp at her side, appeared supercharged. Blood from a fusion gun blast dripped down the length of the limp arm.

The monster that was once Gail Griffen tore into the living room with lightning speed. Her good hand reached out and, before Shepherd could react, locked around the police officer’s neck. Gail Griffen let out a guttural roar and twisted Shepherd’s head to the right and left. His body flailed about as if it were a child’s doll.

There followed a grotesque crack and Shepherd’s body went limp. His service revolver tumbled to the ground. Though he was dead, the being that was once Gail Griffen continued shaking the officer. The flesh that held the dead man’s head to his body ripped away. Shepherd’s headless body tumbled to the ground while his head remained in Gail’s monstrous right hand.

B’taav fired his gun over and over and over again. The blasts tore into the woman, producing five gaping holes in her chest. From each spewed a fountain of blood.

The creature roared once again. She slammed Shepherd’s head to the ground and moved toward B’taav. But her movements were sluggish. The blood flowing out of her body was too much, even for this monster.

B’taav ran back to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. It was the only barrier he had between himself and that creature.

If it holds
.

The creature pounded against the door, splintering panels just inches from B'taav’s face. B’taav held the door tight while the creature continued pounding. Her blows grew weaker, until they finally stopped.

B’taav waited a few more moments before inching the shattered remains of door open. Gail Griffen lay on the floor, her body no longer bloated and muscular. In death her features were serene. All traces of the monster that killed Orlando Echo, Carlo Giny, and Officer Shepherd were gone. All around her and sprayed against the wall and floor was a thick layer of her blood.

In the end, it was the blood loss that killed her.

CHAPTER FIVE

The
sixty-third floor of the Tropic Hotel was tightly cordoned off and filled with police and crime scene technicians.

B’taav was led to the room next door to Gail Griffen's. It was the same room Shepherd and he rented several nights before. The Independent was told to sit there with three fresh-faced Ferro City Police Officers. He was asked no questions during that initial wait. Through the door leading out into the hallway B'taav spotted a small army of technicians pacing back and forth. Photograph flashes went off at a steady clip. Another technician walked very slowly past his room. In his hand was a three-dimensional holograph quality Vid Camera. He talked into it as he panned the instrument back and forth. The three-dimensional imaging would offer anyone interested a virtual walkthrough of the crime scene.

After a half-hour, B’taav got to his feet. The police officers said nothing, though one of them momentarily tensed. B’taav slowed down. There was no need to alarm his babysitters. He walked to the room’s window. A mob had formed outside the hotel. They were held back by at least twenty police cars and a plethora of officers.

“
It’s crazy down there.”

The voice came from the entrance to the room. Though calm in tone, there was a discernable edge to it.

Len Herbert, the Commissioner of the Ferro City Police, stood at the doorway. He wore a dull gray trench coat and smoked a thin white cigar. The lines on his face were pronounced. There was a genuine sadness in his eyes.

“
I’ve taken a look around next door,” he said. “Care to tell me what the hell happened?”

B’taav pulled out the vial labeled Ac2 and the syringe. He handed them to Herbert

“
What is this?”

“
Amidoadrenalin. Some call it an adrenalizer. Others call it Accelerant.”

“
Accelerant? I don’t believe I’ve heard—”

“
It’s a stimulant. It works on the user’s body, speeding up their system. If you’re a miner and work on commission you take a small dose and it gives you the energy to work three or four days in a row without needing sleep.”

“
I suppose it also increases your strength?”

“
Yes, though if used in the regular doses this increase is minimal. Gail Griffen overdosed. On purpose. Even if I, or Officer Shepherd, hadn’t shown up, she would have been dead within the hour.”

“
Are you saying Officer Shepherd’s death wasn't necessary?”

“
She could have left the apartment, crashed into a number of other rooms and killed many more before the drug eventually killed her.”

“
She didn’t want to be taken alive?”

“
That's my guess.”

“
Why? According to your own reports, you had her on relatively small charges. Why go nuclear?”

“
She was a member of the Black Bird organization. The pirates I was tasked with rooting out used their members as potential recruits.”

“
You have proof she was a recruit?”

B’taav didn’t answer.

“
Figures,” Herbert said.

There was movement in the outside hallway. Bill Goodwin, the Merrick representative of Salvation, entered the room. He wore a heavy gray coat and was in the process of removing an expensive pair of black leather gloves. He wasted no time greeting Herbert or acknowledging B’taav’s presence.

“
What a fucking mess,” Goodwin began. He poked his finger in Herbert’s chest. “You’ll tell the media this was a case of domestic violence or a lover’s quarrel or whatever story you come up with that sounds good. You will not even whisper any mention of Merrick Cruise Lines in your report.”