Freedom Incorporated (73 page)

But it wasn’t a
fire.

A small crowd had
gathered around the portals and people were jostling to gawk at
something. Jen’s curiosity kept her inching along and she craned
her neck to snatch a glimpse for herself.

What she saw chilled her
blood.

It was Adrian.

Or what was left of
him.

The air buzzed with
excitement and the onlookers’ expressions ranged from revulsion to
horror and alarm. He was naked from the waist up and a message had
been carved into his torso. Two words: “You’re next.”

His eyes were still open
and they stared vacantly ahead. Trails of salt were flaking on his
cheeks where tears had dried, and his mouth gaped, as if the corpse
wanted to speak one final word but couldn’t draw breath to make it
happen. He’d died from three gunshot wounds to the head. The entry
holes made a neat triangle just to the right of centre. Blood had
splattered over Adrian’s face and trousers. One rivulet had made
the epic journey down his chin and dripped onto his abdomen,
forming a lake in his bellybutton.

Jen first
concluded that Esteban had discovered Adrian’s betrayal. The
carnage was precisely what she’d expect of a lunatic like
Esteban.
It’s a message for me… I’m
next.
But the longer she gazed into Adrian’s
vacant eyes, the closer she came to revealing the truth. It was
within her the whole time, just waiting for discovery.
It wasn’t Esteban.
Realisation sickened her more than the ghastly sight of
Adrian’s corpse. Her legs gave way and another wave of pain
exploded in her gut as she sat convulsing on the floor. Throughout
the tremors, she wrestled with demons that shouted something she
didn’t want to hear:
Dan killed
him.

*

Junior wiped
his nose and furiously rubbed the stubble on his chin until his
skin was so sensitive the touch become unpleasant.
This wasn’t supposed to
happen.
During times of high stress he
needed to keep his hands occupied – every few minutes ran them
through his curly mat of strawberry hair. “Get back would you!” He
took a menacing pace toward the gathering crowd and they began to
scatter.

“
Do you know
what this is about?” asked Terrance Leichhardt, one of the older
members who lingered despite Junior’s demand. He was in his late
fifties and hefted significant political weight in the Guild’s
inner sanctum.

Junior shook his head and
lied, “No sir.” It was imperative that he show due respect to
high-ranking members. “I don’t even know where he went.” At least
that part was true, Adrian had just up and vanished.

“
Take care of
the mess, will you?” Terrance said in a dry, smoker’s voice. He’d
curled his words as if asking a question, but from a man like
Terrance Leichhardt a question was really a command, which carried
severe penalties if Junior didn’t follow it to the
letter.

“
Yes sir.”
Junior nodded meekly, running another hand through his
hair.

Terrance turned and
strolled back to the Imperial Lounge where Junior couldn’t follow,
his patent leather shoes squeaking as he went. He was keen to
resume a fascinating debate on evolution and hoped the incident
with the dead member hadn’t irrevocably disrupted it.

Now
what?
Junior looked again at his friend’s
naked torso and the message somebody had carved into it with a
knife. The pinkish flesh was beginning to turn blue.
Or is that my imagination?
He didn’t want to touch it. He’d touched a dead body before
and the experience had given him the creeps. The cadaver’s cold,
livid flesh against his warm fingers had made him want to scream.
But, gathering his resolve, Junior approached the corpse and gently
closed Adrian’s eyes. He could stand the vacant stare even
less.

It was
Dan.
He had no doubt about that.
And he obviously knows where we
are.
He wondered how many hours he’d
tortured Adrian for information. Junior blanched, unable to admit
he would’ve capitulated immediately. An egoist, Junior would never
deliberately suffer on anybody else’s account.

Adrian’s body was
kneeling upright, propped there by wooden slats that’d once been
part of a chair. Junior pushed the body forward and it landed on
its face with a thud.

There was no
sign that Sutherland had removed Adrian’s microchip.
Of course! How else would he make it through the
portal?
Junior leered at Dan’s error.
He blew it. How stupid.
Still, it was unsettling to have a close associate murdered by
someone intent upon slaying him too.

He didn’t want
to roam outside for long.
Not with Dan on
the prowl.
So he found a thick sheet of
plastic and wrapped it around Junior’s corpse. Next, he dragged it
to cold storage and unceremoniously dumped it in the corner, next
to crates filled with microwaveable dinners.
I’ll get rid of it once this is all over.

Which raised
another question:
Where the fuck was
Esteban during all this? Isn’t he supposed to protect us? Shouldn’t
we stick together?
He knew it didn’t make
sense to huddle in the Guild forever, that way it’d never be over.
Esteban was doing the noble thing by using himself as bait.
So why did Adrian leave? And where’d he
go?

He cast
Adrian’s corpse a final disgusted look before flipping out his
phone and pressing the speed dial for Esteban. No answer. He tried
again. Same result.
Damn
you.
He trotted to the portals, hesitating
before stepping inside.
Maybe I
shouldn’t…
He had a good idea where Esteban
would be.
And I won’t be
long.
So in the end his self-confidence
overshadowed his mountain of qualms and he dialled the code,
vanishing from the Guild’s portal chamber.

*

Jen stumbled
back to bed between tremors and lay quivering under the sheets,
twisting and contorting when flashes of pain needled her body. She
couldn’t remember ever being more miserable. She lay there
wondering how her life had become so horrendous. A week ago she’d
been happy, working on the biggest hack she’d ever dared to hope
for.
And now?

How could
you?
It seemed so barbaric.
How can you write a message on someone’s chest
with a knife?
It dawned on her that she
didn’t really know Dan at all, or know of what he was capable. She
shivered as she recalled her invitation for him to accompany her in
her new life, beyond the grasp of corporate bulldozers.

She wondered
whether she’d be able to look Dan in the eyes again.
If I ever get the chance.
She tried to imagine looking at him without the chest-carving
memory floating like unwelcome refuse to the surface of her mind.
What pained her most was that she believed Adrian had intended to
help. He’d carried her hopes. And now that he was dead, she was
back to square one.

She wasn’t
convinced Dan would be her knight in shining armour. He was too
busy inflicting his pent-up rage on the people who’d murdered his
wife and wasn’t taking enough notice of what was happening
now.
If he were, he wouldn’t have killed
Adrian.
Still, she reluctantly had to admit
Adrian had done heinous things.
So maybe
that justifies…

Jen’s body convulsed and
she retreated from her physical misery, preferring the despair in
her mind. In a way, it was Dan’s trial. The outcome would determine
her reaction to him if they ever again met.

*

Esteban was
aiming his pistol at mock targets when the knock came.
Again?
He doubted Dan
would forecast his entry but didn’t want to take unnecessary risks.
He quietly eased out of his chair and stood next to the door, ready
to ambush anybody that came through.

“
Esteban?” It
was Junior’s voice.

Esteban’s shoulders
slumped. “What?” He carefully pulled the door open, ready to shoot
whoever was on the other side if it proved to be a trick. Junior
rushed into the room, wide-eyed and spooked. He looked like a wild
horse before a thunderstorm.

“
It’s Adrian,
he’s-” was all he could squeeze out before Michele interrupted
them.

“
Esteban?” Her
voice was nasal and irritating, made infinitely worse because
Esteban knew she’d never say anything intelligent.

“
God, this
place is a fucking zoo. What the hell do
you
want?”

She didn’t often come to
his office; he usually went down to hers. That way he didn’t have
to clean the milky sex-mess from his desk, but his ulterior motive
hadn’t dawned on her yet. “I wanted-”

“
Close the
fucking door, would you?” Esteban snapped, cutting her off. He
didn’t want Dan to surprise him when he had unwelcome
guests.

She pulled the door shut.
“Jackie’s been trying to find you, how come you’re not answering
your phone?”

That’s a good
question,
Junior thought.
It would’ve saved me the trouble of coming out
here.

Esteban rolled his eyes.
“Because I’m busy doing my job you brainless bimbo. I expect
Sutherland will turn up any minute.”

“
He already
has,” Junior said with a sour expression.

“
What?”
Esteban turned to face him, wearing a harrowed mask of
disbelief.

“
That’s what I
came to tell you – he fucked Adrian up real good.” Junior wasn’t
one to sugarcoat words.

“
Adrian?
That’s impossible… he was only just here.”

“
Well he left
the Guild hours ago and turned up dead.” Junior was trying
unsuccessfully to gouge a grain of dirt from under his fingernail,
unwilling to meet anyone’s gaze.

“
The dumb fuck
said he’d go straight back,” Esteban said, frowning deep in
disbelief. “So Sutherland must’ve snatched him from
this
building.” It was a
perturbing thought.

“
Well he was
naked from the waist up and had a message carved into
his-”

“
Carved?”
Michele’s horrified expression betrayed precisely what she thought
of that.

Junior nodded. “Yeah, it
was pretty fucking grisly. He carved the words ‘you’re next’ into
his chest.”

“
Post mortem?”
Esteban hoped. He wasn’t that sadistic.

“
I think so.
He had three holes in his head so Sutherland probably blew his
brains out first.” Junior spread his grimy hands. “I was told to
take care of the mess so I shoved him in cold storage.”

That’s
disgusting.
Michele felt a panic swelling
within. “We’re next. He’s going to kill us all.”

Esteban shook his head.
“No he’s not. He has another thing coming if he thinks he can take
me.”

“
Don’t you
understand?” Michele gasped. “Haven’t you read his
file?”

“
What file?”
Junior asked, having no idea what she was talking about.

“
Dan has a
very colourful history,” Michele shrieked in a higher pitch than
usual. “It reads just like a Craig Murphy novel.”

In 2048, a few months
after his eighteenth birthday, Dan joined the Australian Defence
Force. He spent six months in the army’s gruelling training program
before accepting his first assignment in the Sixth Border Defence
Division. But he didn’t stay there long. Due largely to his high
intelligence and physical aptitude, his commanding officer sought
to reassign him somewhere that wouldn’t waste his talents. In 2049
he went back into training, this time to refine his skills to work
with FIRE, the highly specialist division responsible for 89
Australian-led black-ops between 2049 and 2053. Dan had personally
been involved in 61 of those operations, and had commanded 12 of
them himself. The year 2053 also saw Dan receive his final
promotion and he went to work for the Australian Republic’s
blossoming shadow-intelligence division. But, three years later,
the funding dried up. The Australian government, led by Xantex at
the time, hadn’t deemed anyone fit for reassignment and the cabinet
had retrenched all shadow-intelligence officers. But Dan had
departed with a glowing recommendation that the New South Wales
Police Department simply couldn’t ignore and he’d commenced his
service in law enforcement.

Esteban nodded. “I’ve
read it. So what? I’m not worried. Now go back to your room.” Then
he turned from Michele to stab Junior with an impatient look. “And
you go back to the Guild, and for Christ’s sake stay
there!”

“
Whatever you
say.” Junior just hoped it would all be over before work on Monday.
The last thing he needed was another sick day on his
record.

But Michele wasn’t so
easily placated. She snarled with fear. “You don’t understand! He’s
going to kill us all. We’re all dead! Oh my God, I should’ve run
when he told-”

Esteban
slapped her across the cheek, hard enough to whiplash her neck and
raise a red welt on her skin. She reeled to her knees and Esteban
derived cruel pleasure from seeing her there.
Maybe if I keep going I’ll eventually slap some sense into
her.
He could make it into a science
experiment, one that was truly worthy of his time and devotion.
With a smirk, he vowed to bear it in mind for the next day of
knuckle-biting boredom.
Something to
contribute to the scientific community: can beating the shit out of
a retard knock some brains into them?