Tribes of Man: The Beginning [Tribes of Man] (Siren Publishing Classic) (6 page)

Gideon knocked on the door to the house.

“Who is it?” came the muffled question. Gideon knew that Jimmy could see him through the Judas hole, but the man was nothing if not cautious.

“Hey, Jimmy, it’s Gideon. I came to pick your brain,” Gideon replied, loud enough to be heard through the closed door.

The door slowly opened, but Gideon couldn’t see Jimmy in the open space. He stepped into the house with his hands out to the sides. Jimmy was right where Gideon had expected him, behind the door with his Glock 20 in his hand.

Jimmy closed the door behind Gideon, looked out through the Judas hole again, and relocked the door. Only then did he put the gun in the holster he wore every day and hold out his hand.

“Hey, Gid. How’s it hanging?” Jimmy was a short, thin, dark-haired man who looked like he couldn’t win a fight with a ten-year-old. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, tattered jeans, and his ever-present modified shoulder holster. Even though he only had one gun in it, it was modified to have a gun under each arm, in case either arm became incapacitated, and a holder on his back for his Dakota T-76 Longbow sniper rifle.

“It’s hanging. Still taking precautions, I see.” Gideon took off his jacket.

“Hey, you don’t want to carry a piece, that’s your funeral.” Jimmy stepped back and gestured into the living room, a charming little room with hardwood floors, a fireplace with a mahogany mantle, and a big-screen television. Jimmy didn’t let Gideon go to be polite. He just didn’t want to leave his back unguarded.

“I’ve got my clutch, good enough for me.” He knew Jimmy would want to know if he was armed but would never have asked. Gideon told him out of courtesy. Jimmy would know that his clutch piece would be a Ruger in an ankle holster. Jimmy relaxed perceptibly. Gideon wondered, not for the first time, what would happen if Jimmy ever slipped a gear. He was perfectly sane for an assassin, but if he ever went crazy the world would be in trouble.

“What can I do you for?” Jimmy asked after Gideon took a seat on the plush couch.

Gideon handed Jimmy a file. “I have a client who might be in a bit of trouble. She was attacked in her home, her roommate was tortured and killed, and she thinks someone may be following her. She was hit by a weapon that I think you might recognize.” Gideon handed Jimmy the police report.

After a few seconds, Jim said, “Oh, shit.”

Gideon handed him the crime scene shots of Michelle. Jimmy held them up almost to his nose and moved the angle of the paper as though trying to see around her body. “Wish I could have seen the site,” he said. Gideon didn’t take offense. Jimmy’s interest in what happened to Michelle wasn’t sick joy. It was cool logic and an eye for death.

Gideon handed Jimmy the copy of Raina’s MRI picture and Michelle’s CAT scan. “Take a look at these. Are they caused by what I think they’re caused by?”

Jimmy opened a small drawer in the coffee table. Gideon caught sight of another gun, a revolver this time, a pack of playing cards, and some M&M’s before Jimmy pulled out a small magnifying glass. He looked at the two pictures for a long time before looking up at his friend. “The girl’s fucked, Gid.”

Gideon’s stomach dropped. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“No, man, you don’t get it, the girl is seriously fucked.”

After his pronouncement, Jimmy walked to the closet and stepped inside. From the couch, Gideon could see a wall open in the back. Hanging behind the false wall was Jimmy’s arsenal. He pulled his sniper rifle off the rack as well as another pistol and what looked like a grenade. It wasn’t the guns that made Gideon realize that the situation was even more serious than he feared, it was the grenade. If Jimmy Dean was spooked, Raina really was fucked.

Jimmy walked back out of the closet and went to a box on the wall. When he opened it, a complex security panel was revealed. He punched in a few buttons and a sultry female said, “Lockdown complete.”

Jimmy slid his rifle into the back of his holster before turning back to Gideon.

“What your client was hit with was a magnetophosphene gun. Basically it’s a nonlethal weapon used in England and other places for crowd control. Don’t let the ‘nonlethal’ part of that fool you. This is some serious shit.”

“I remember you talking about it the last time I saw you. When I read the report, Raina’s description of the weapon matched the picture you showed me. That’s the reason why I came to you. You said you were trying to get one for your collection, but they were illegal. I also remember that you said they weren’t harmful, just disorienting.” Gideon was trying to understand exactly why Jimmy suddenly became so jumpy.

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t get one. You can get almost anything on the black market, even if it’s not legal, in the good ol’ US of A, but you can’t get this. What’s worse is that this one may have been souped up. Even direct contact with the skin shouldn’t have caused blindness, and only repeated use could cause the burns on the brain we’re seeing here.”

“I don’t understand,” Gideon said. “That weapon made her blind. How could it do that?”

“I can’t say what the intention was, but from what you described, that part was an accident. If they modified the gun so that it completely debilitated rather than just disorientated there would be no way to know what effect it would have on someone if it touched their skin.” Jimmy scratched his chin. “It might also have depended on where it touched her. She’s lucky it didn’t kill her.”

“I wonder if that was the intention,” Gideon said.

“I have no idea, but I do know one thing,” Jimmy walked to the closed blind to peek out. “If this woman’s account of what happened is true, added to what happened to her roommate, I think you’ve got at best the CIA and at worst an international agency, possibly even a terrorist group, after her.”

That explained Jimmy’s actions. Somehow Gideon didn’t think that Jimmy was just being paranoid. “I don’t get why they’d be after her. She’s just a student.”

“I don’t know, man”—Jimmy shrugged then continued—“but you ought to consider dropping this case.”

“No!” Gideon’s emphatic refusal made Jimmy’s eyebrows go up.

“Then think about taking the chick on a vacation. At the very least, it’s time to stock up on the firepower.” Jimmy went into the other room and came back out with a computer. “Let me show you what I know about this thing. I want one, so I’ve been collecting information on it. After you look at this stuff, you might want to reconsider getting out of Dodge.”

* * * *

Raina loved her job at the library. She’d been afraid that losing her sight would automatically make her lose her job, but the library went through the Perkins Center for the Blind to get her what she needed. They also applied for a grant with the Americans with Disabilities Act to get better equipment. Raina had known that she was an asset to the library, but she hadn’t realized that they considered her valuable enough to spend so much money on her.

Raina got off the bus and quickly moved to the sidewalk. The cool breeze was off the ocean and carried just a hint of rain. Raina swept her cane back and forth in front of her even though she didn’t think she’d need it. She just
knew
when something was in front of her. The people at the hospital were amazed at how well she adjusted to her blindness, enough so that the doctors tested her every way to Sunday to ensure that she wasn’t faking. They finally determined that her eerie ability to know when something was in her way was further evidence that there was no medical cause for her blindness. If it was psychosomatic, then she obviously could see and her brain just wasn’t processing it on a conscious level. Truthfully, they made her feel like a crackpot who
wanted
to be blind.

Raina entered the library through the employee door instead of going around the front like she normally did. She usually walked around the corner to go through the main door because she enjoyed going through the hub of the library, the circulation desk, and main lobby. If she went through the employee’s entrance, she had to go up the back stairs or the elevator to the second floor reference desk. Either route took her around the main lobby.

Considering what had been going on in her life, Raina didn’t mind bypassing the hubbub of the main lobby this time. After entering the library, she put her coat in her locker and walked toward to the elevator. On the second floor, she exited to find Betsy at the reference desk talking to a student.

Raina’s shift overlapped with Betsy’s for an hour, allowing Betsy to finish her end of shift paperwork while Raina helped students.

Betsy’s personality was in direct contrast with both her voice and her looks. She was a large, loud-voiced woman who seemed to be somewhat brash. In reality, she was a very timid, quiet woman who considered a perfect shift to be one where no students asked for help. The week before finals was Betsy’s personal hell since all the students’ papers were due.

As Raina walked up, Betsy was dealing with a particularly thorny inquiry from a student.

“...I don’t know how you’re going to prove that Darwinism also relates to plants protecting themselves against predators.” Betsy sounded totally irritated. She hated answering questions on things that seem foolish.

“But they have thorns, doesn’t that mean that they are an example of Darwinism, you know, survival of the fittest?” The overeager student was leaning forward across the counter.

“Look,” Betsy began impatiently.

Before she could continue, Raina interrupted, “Do you want me to show him the section on horticulture, Betsy?”

Betsy shot her a relieved look. “Thanks, Raina.” She turned back to the student. “Raina’s our resident expert on both Darwin and horticulture. She’ll help you find what you need.”

Raina almost laughed out loud at that little fib as she stepped around the desk. She gestured the student to the computers and headed over, confident that he’d follow.

Behind her Raina heard, “Is she blind? How can she help me find anything?”

“You can see, can’t you? Besides, she’s blind but not deaf, you moron!” Betsy muttered.

Raina wanted to laugh again. Neatly put in his place, the boy wouldn’t make another comment about her blindness.

He caught up with Raina at the computers. “How am I supposed to find what I need?” He spoke louder and slower as though her inability to see translated into being deaf and stupid also.

Raina gestured to the computer terminal. “Go to the main library site and log onto the indexes.” When she heard him typing she continued. “OK, see the indexes? Type ‘horticulture’ into the search options.”

“I don’t see the search options.” He sounded impatient.

“It’s on the upper right hand corner under the...”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I see it.”

She heard more typing.

“Now what?” he asked, evidently needing to be led through every step of the process.

“It should narrow the list of appropriate journals. From there do a subsearch for either Darwinism or the phrase ‘survival of the fittest.’ Frankly, I think you’re going to get considerably more hits on ‘survival of the fittest,’ then you can make it fit into your thesis.”

The boy just grunted.

“Once the list comes up of the articles, print it out. The ones with the library book beside them are the journals we carry.” She heard the printer chug. When it was done she stepped back.

“Do you want me to show you where to find the journals?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Raina let him to the back corner of the journals section. She pointed to the top row. “Most of the journals you’ll need will be there. If any of them are from scientific journals, they’re located in the next aisle.”

“How do I find what I’m looking for in this?”

“The date range and article name is on the outside of the holder.”

“Oh. Thanks. I think I’m all set from here.”

I should hope so
, Raina thought.
I did everything but write your paper for you
.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, there was a loud scream from the front of the reference section.

Jimmy came out of the kitchen with a beer in both hands. He handed one to Gideon, then twisted off the top of his own.

Although Gideon hadn’t asked for a beer, he appreciated it. The research Jimmy had compiled on the magnetophosphene gun—how it worked, how to jury-rig it for different levels including crowd control, torture, and instant death, how impossible it was to get one—all added up to the fact that Raina was in serious trouble. He couldn’t figure out why someone powerful wanted her, but there was no use hoping it was the Americans who wanted her. There wouldn’t be any such thing as the “good guys” here.

“The people that are after this chick are seriously high up, man,” Jimmy said after a long pull of his beer. “I don’t want to get caught in the wave of something I don’t even know about.”

Again, Jimmy wasn’t asking, he was just giving Gideon an opening to tell him what was going on. Gideon hesitated. Most of what he could tell Jimmy would sound insane. But at the same time, by coming here to ask questions, he might have put Jimmy in danger. “Hey, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d be dragging you into any shit by coming here.”

“No problem, Gid. I think I’ll just take a nice long vacation. If you need help on this again, I’ll need to know all of it. I’m not risking my neck because I don’t know what’s going on.” Jimmy fingered his holstered gun. “Email me, and I’ll get back to you in about two days. If it’s dire, call that number and leave a message. They’re both secure.”

Gideon was one of only a handful of people who were privy to “the number.” Jimmy was a cautious man and figured that the more people who knew about it, the more likely it was to be compromised.

“So,” Gideon said as he sat back on the couch and took a long pull from his beer, “what have you got for booby traps I might be able to buy off you?”

Jimmy sat down and rubbed his hands together, prepared to have some fun. “Guess it depends. What’s the layout of the house?”