The Wake Up Call
Chapter 1.13: Reunited
There before him was a giant, over-embellished elevator entrance, its gold and platinum metal studs sparkled as they caught the spot lights in the honeycomb ceiling. The call button was a neat looking infra-red gadget cleverly designed to detect, and probably ident, an approaching hand. Without doubt the designers of this expensive people portal had taken great care in its construction to give it the imposing impression of a high-tech fortress, a mental and physical castle defence system ready to repel all but the most courage (or foolish) trespassers. Hetch drove his hand towards the faint red beam, and then, then he paused, clenched his fist and rubbed his stubble-covered chin with it. There could be anything, or anyone, beyond its heavy looking doors, this needed a moment of thought, to consider and then reconsider his plan, what his next move would be and more importantly what he would do if everything went pear-shaped like a mushroom cloud.
Hetch looked around. Nothing. The lack of sound and movement was both a reassuring calm and an unsettling time-bomb, he almost wanted some surprise to greet him, at least it would bring this torturous waiting to an end. It was worse than playing Russian Roulette. Not that he had ever seen this suicidal game, the only similar game was Mewco's Roulette where he held a pistol to someone's head and clicked off each empty chamber until the person either surrendered or melted from a cardiac arrest. To make things more interesting Mewco often inserted a blank into the second or third chamber. The gun burns on a victim's head proved to his audience how serious Mewco was. But that was in the past, Mewco was dead, only his ghostly image lived on in the guise of Hetch's grisly disguise. Now, at the present time, the only clicks were the ones from the marble floor as Hetch paced up and down looking for a weakness, a flaw in the elevator controls which he could exploit. There had to be something the smart ass designers had missed out. Given the reputation of the McKaff brothers there was bound to be some truly nasty surprise waiting around the corner. A concealed auto gun, a deadly electric shock handle or just a remotely operated trap door which would open and send its unsuspecting passenger down the elevator shaft onto the concrete slabs far below. Keel would often demonstrate his latest trap on one of his guests or rival crime lords' family members to reconfirm his sadistic reputation. This interactive ride wasn't the kind of amusement that Hetch wanted at the present time, no, all he wanted was a soft, comfortable seat on a shuttle heading to a luxury resort somewhere far away from the likes of the McKaffs and their hordes of their psychotic underlings.
" P-I-N-G ! "
The synthetic noise of the elevator stabbed through the recycled air. Someone had called up the elevator. Hetch only had a few moments to think and in his current state of mind it wasn't enough. A great number of clans had tried to take on the McKaffs before and failed, big time. Their bodies were rarely found, well their complete bodies were rarely found. The three brothers often dismembered their victims in order to trade with some rich clients who desperately needed an organ transplant or simply wished to 'upgrade' themselves. If all these clans with vast armies of gang members had failed then what chance had Hetch got? None. He had to be realistic, to be honest with himself, to know his limitations and stop before he had crossed the line which he would later regret.
The McKaff brothers' elevator doors was this line. He knew that it was the boundary between the small time and the big time underworld of hardened criminals whose hobbies include rape, murder, GBH, drive-by shootings, bombings, black mail and a whole heap of other anti-social acts of brutality. His heart pounded against his ribs like a charging rhino in a flimsy, white bone cage. He had to admit it, he was frightened, scared shit-less at the prospect of meeting the Aurora Complex owners. If his stomach hadn't leapt up into his throat he would have surely ran in the opposite direction letting out a huge scream of terror.
The elevator stopped behind the fortress-like doors. The soft hissing sound from the mechanical door levers began their smooth transition from closed to open. It was like breaking the seal on a hi-tech coffin, the ones used in certain research labs to store bio-hazardious bodies after another outbreak of 'slum fever' - the term used to explain away yet another pollution incident. It was widely used by the corporate news networks to help them sell their latest overpriced drugs, air filtration system or water purification technology. Hetch wondered how the news channels would report his death, would it be another tragic gangland style execution or would he find himself in one of those bio-hazard coffins?
" CLICK "
The elevator doors opened. It was empty. It was fucking empty! After all that speculation, that self-inflicted stress and it was just the automatic control system randomly sending the elevator up and down in order to keep its motorised mechanism in working order, to prevent it from locking up from inactivity. Talking of locking up, Hetch's heart almost jammed from the sudden rush of adrenaline to it. This was bad, not only for his general health but for those pain killing drugs which the cleaner had given him almost half an hour earlier. The adrenaline would re-awaken his senses soon and that damn burn on his side would rise from its slumber too.
" Hey, can you believe that jerk stain? "
" Just give me five minutes with that little punk ass crap-pile and he would be crying for his mama. "
Two heavy looking employees of the McKaffs came out of an unseen side door which was concealed half way along the hallway. This secret exit was yet another reason to fear the Aurora Complex inhabitants, they were sly, cunning and extremely dangerous.
" Hey you, who the fuck are you? and what ya doing? "
Hetch froze to the spot.
" Yo! Answer the man ass-hole, else prepare to enter a world of pain. "
Their footsteps across the marble floor increased in volume like an approaching elephant on roller-skates. Their huge frames covered in expensive material cast two rain cloud shadows over Hetch. It was like the entire world had suddenly been plunged into darkness by an unexpected eclipse.
" You deaf punk? Perhaps a hot piece of lead will help un-block your ears. "
Hetch gazed into the open elevator. It was the light at the end of the tunnel. His means of escaping. If he could get inside and close those thick doors he would be safe, well safe for a few more moments while those two gorillas raised the alarm. He readied himself, prepared for the short run into the open elevator.
" SLAP "
Too late. Hetch felt a huge hand on his shoulder. It was like the talons of a mythical phoenix biting into his flesh with a vice-like grip.
" Now, what have we here? "
Hetch felt and heard the unmistakable click of a gun against his neck. It seemed to reconfirm the huge ape's threat about using a bullet to clean his ears.
" You wouldn't want to do that. "
replied Hetch, his words were almost inaudible.
" Tell me why, shit for brains. Before I decide to spread some of them around the room. "
" You wouldn't want to get my dirty ear wax on your nice, clean suits. "
" Looks like we've got another comedian Joe. "
" Gee, must be another dumb tourist. We get 'em through here ALL the time. "
sneered the other gang member.
" Get moving ass-hole! We've got some 'tourist sights' to show you. "
" Yeah, the ones on our guns. "
They both laughed and marched their captive guest towards the open elevator. Hetch tried to walk slowly, trying to buy himself a little more time to think of a plan or a brilliant story which those two apes behind him would believe. The final harsh push to his back, which sent him face first into the far wall of the elevator, persuaded Hetch that no story, no matter how brilliant it was would convince them to let him go. His best and only course of action was to remain silent, to bide his time and see if fate would thrown him a lifeline.
The two apes scanned Hetch from head to toe with their deeply set eyes in their thick, heavy skulls. It was a kind of intimidation which failed to work on their captive passenger. Hetch had always been the recipient of strange stares from other people due to his artificial arm and his bizarre dress-sense. His clothes were always chosen on the basis of practicality and not out of a warped sense of fashion. He didn't give a shit what he wore so long as it kept out the cold, protected him from pollution or gave him somewhere to hide his trusty collection of hardware gadgets. Those same gadgets he wished he had now, at least they would give him a fighting chance of staying alive. But all of his and Mewco's hardware had been taken while he was unconscious. No one was dumb enough to leave a corpse whose pockets were filled with hardware just lying around on a mortuary slab, not with the kind of employees the McKaffs had. Most of them would swiftly sell any hardware in a nano-second just to make a few more credits.
" P-I-N-G "
The elevator had reached its destination, which was over 30 floors above its starting point. The two doors opened like the eyelids of an immense dragon being woken up after its lengthy hibernation and all that was on its mind was food. Without bothering to turn around both of the apes reached back and each grabbed one of Hetch's arm, dragging him out of the elevator. It was obvious that they were fluent in the act of hostile hospitality.
The surroundings were even more over the top than the lower floors. Each wall was jam packed with statues, priceless paintings and countless white marble pillars intermixed with elliptical fish tanks filled with some of the ugliest pond life that Hetch had ever seen, well if he didn't count those two apes in the lift that is.
One of the two 'charming' pair pointed one of his huge, chubby fingers at Hetch's face and then pointed to the ground.
" Stay! "
It was like he was ordering a dog to wait until he called for it. The other ape walked calmly back to the elevator and stood in front of it with his arms crossed.
Hetch looked around. The cost of this room's decor would have easily set up him for life in a high-class pleasure palace, surrounding him with rich food and cheap women. The approaching sense of doom had reawakened his primal instincts and before his entire life flashed before his blood-shot eyes he wanted to insert some fun into it. His mind returned to the moment when he first saw the attractive, dark-haired stewardess on the ill-fated shuttle. From that moment onward nothing but trouble had greeted Hetch, and she seemed to be the cause. She was a Siren, a sweet talking witch able to twist him around her finger, whisper lies in his ear while pointing a gun barrel in his back.
His mouth was as dry as a dry-roasted dinosaur bone inside a sauna. It must be that same hot sauna which was making the sweat pour off his face and hands. The prospect of meeting the McKaffs was terrifying. The only hope was to play the part of Mewco flawlessly, and that meant being cold, ruthless, violent and two-faced. Any mistake, a sign of weakness would result in a painful death at the hands of Keel or one of his two brothers.
The black glass doors in the centre of the wall opened and in walked six heavy looking muscle heads dressed in expensive suits which semi-concealled their body armour underneath. The last one walked to his desk and sat on its edge, perching on it like a hungry vulture eager to devour its dying prey. Hetch guessed this was Keel, the eldest of the three McKaff brothers, so the other two standing behind the desk cracking his knuckles and stretching their necks were Dakk and Wheeze.
" May I offer you a seat? "
From behind him a polished metal was forced into Hetch's legs and he fell back into its soft leather panels like a fly caught in a sticky spider's web.
" See, I have a little problem. "
continued Keel, his eyes focused on the captive victim before him.
" Tell me, Mewco, what would you do with a small time punk who tries to fuck you out of 50,000 credits? "
The sick looking Wheeze pushed a stimulant inhaler in his nose and snorted up its contents. A few seconds later, a small trickle of white powder and blood crept from both nostrils.
Hetch lifted his head and looked at Keel, who was now walking towards him.
" You seem more quiet than usual Mewco. "
Through the doors came the familiar looking skin head, the stewardess and the long haired tech. called Splice. Dakk pointed at the huge glass table and chairs. A few nervous seconds later and three new arrivals were sitting down.
Keel walked around the back of Hetch and began to circle around him growing more and more animated with each turn.
" Let me explain, someone in this room has tried to shit on some of my 'boys' and we kinda take things like that quite badly. Don't we boys? "
The heavy thugs around the room grunted, obviously looking forward to witnessing an act of brutality very, very soon. It was like feeding time at the local zoo. The only question on everyone's minds was, "who is the bait?"
" So what's going to happen now? " asked the Stewardess.
Dakk walked to the window and peered through the narrow metal slits, outside the city continued on its chaotic course, unaware of the events in the Aurora complex room. He removed a semi-automatic from inside his overly long suit jacket and dragged it up and down the metal vents. Keel stopped, looked at Dakk for a moment then continued his animated path up and down the room.
" So, explain to me what happened in the Eldora Tower. "
" I did as you said and... "
" Shut that lying mouth bitch! "
Keel slammed his fist onto the thick, glass table causing a loud boom to resound through everyone's ears. All, except Wheeze, reacted to this outburst, his mind was occupied by the neural-stim drugs and his small nose-bleed.
" But, that's not fucking true, is it? If you did what I said then you would have the fucking case, right? So don't try that shit on me! "
" Hey, chill out for a moment Keel. With troops all over the place it's a bitch moving around anything around the streets. "
Keel leaned over the table and stared into the skin head's eyes.
" Who the fuck asked you to speak? "
B-A-N-G!
What was left of the skin head's face landed on the glass table like an overripe tomato. One of his front teeth broke off and spun around the slippery glass surface towards the horrified Stewardess. His lifeless arms slid off the chair and dangled a few inches above the shiny marble floor like a pair of pink, tattooed ropes. Behind the warm corpse stood Dakk, who blew the barrel of his still smoking semi-automatic and winked at the Stewardess.
" Later babe, later. "
Hetch felt his guts wrench upwards as if they were trying to escape through his mouth. It took all of his strength to stand up and face Keel.
" Okay, you've made your point. Right, now what? "
Before he had had time to finish the sentence, Keel clicked his fingers and nodded his head towards Wheeze, who disappeared from the room in order to fetch someone or something.
" Shit! This wasn't part of the deal. " cursed Splice, his face and hair still splattered with blood from his old, ex-employee.
" Fuck the deal. The rules they are changing in MY favour. Anyone got a problem with that? "
Hetch glanced over at the stewardess and finally admitted to himself that she had been working for the McKaffs all along. Those two thugs in her apartment were some of their violent henchmen sent along to make sure that she got the case and disposed of Hetch too. He had wished that she could play some kind of part in his future, 'collect the money, get the girl, defeat the bad guys' and all the other bullshit that every low-rent holo-flick has, but this was reality and that kind of 'happy ever after' bullshit never happens.
In walked Wheeze followed by very thin looking old man carrying a black bag and a surgical face-mask in his other hand.
Things had suddenly gone from bad to worse. Everyone instantly recognised what this old man was, he was a swipe-freak doctor, someone who performs illegal and brutal transplants between 'donors' and recipients. Hetch knew more about these street butchers than anyone else, one of them was the reason for his missing arm. One gang had ambushed him a few years ago in the slum alleyways and amputated it there before his eyes without any anaesthetic before leaving him there to die. He felt ill and wanted to be physically sick, but the Mewco act had to continue, without it he would certainly end up like the skin head or worse.
" One of you, worthless excrements, has got a case of mine. "
Keel walked past Hetch.
" Is it you, Mewco? Or maybe that bitch over there? "
he said pointing blindly at the stewardess. Meanwhile the doctor had unpacked the contents of his little, black bag and laid them out onto the glass table. Dakk picked up one of the razor sharp scalpel and tried it on his own thumb which soon gave out a line of red liquid.
" Trade. " snapped Splice.
" Trade? "
Dakk jerked back Splice's head and held the scalpel directly under the Adam's apple in his throat.
" No trade. You give, you live. You lie, you die. "
Wheeze was occupied with the doctor's black bag and searched through it for some more drugs of any description to inject or inhale.
" Okay. " sighed Hetch.
" I'll tell you what you want to know. "
" Bingo! Looks like we have a winner. Start talking. "
" I know where the case is. But, there is a price. "
" What they say about you is true Mewco. When you're backed into a corner you always manage to weasel yourself a way out. "
" Do you want the cargo, or are you pulling my fucking dick? "
Dakk looked at Keel, who seemed disturbed at the comment. Splice scanned the room in order to develop his own escape plan from the current situation.
" What price? " asked Keel.
" The stewardess. "
Hetch felt Keel pace up and down behind him in a frantic, half-tamed rage. He knew that the case was the only way he could barter his way out of this stand-off, but he wasn't sure whether Keel was about to call his bluff, to expose his empty hand in this game of physiological poker.
" Go to hell Mewco. " whispered the stewardess, afraid to utter these words out loud in case she incurred the same fate as the dead skin head.
" I say, we waste this no good ass-hole. " screamed Dakk, placing the gun barrel against Hetch's forehead and forcing his head backwards
" This bitch is mine! "
Keel grabbed Dakk around his neck and shoulders in a head lock with his huge, overdeveloped arms which looked like two weight-lifter's legs with fingers on the end. It not only looked like he has been hitting the gym equipment, but it looks like he has broken a few in his time too. Dakk choked, gasped for air, struggled for a few moments before he collapsed on the ground unconscious.
" Fit the device on him. " instructed the out-of-breath Keel to the doctor.
The doctor placed a small, metal and plastic arm band on Hetch near his shoulder. It clicked in place with the sound of a hi-tech lock.
" What the fuck is this? "
" Let's just call it insurance. In case you get any thoughts of double cross in that rat-shit brain of yours Mewco. "
" Remote or timed? "
" Both! " sneered Keel.
" Shit. "
" Three hours before you go pop. Bring me the case and cargo and maybe I will think about disabling it. " Keel and the thugs around him laughed.
Hetch slowly got up from his seat and examined the device on his arm. The small orange leds gave a crude indication of time remaining, three leds, three hours. Given the correct tools and a good tech. it could be cracked.
" Oh, and here is the bonus. "
Hetch turned back to see the doctor place an identical device on the stewardess.
" Today, when you buy one, you get a second one free! "
The doctor's old, dry voice gave out a chilling warning:
" Both devices must be within 50 metres of each other, otherwise, B-A-N-G... good night sweet prince, and princess. "
The stewardess gave Hetch a 'little-kid-lost' look. She was both frightened and disgusted at the idea of having to spend her last three hours with him.
" Throw these two lovers out with the rest of the garbage. " ordered Keel to the two thugs guarding the entrance doors.
" Wait, I almost forgot. " said Keel.
" What? " snapped Hetch, he was in no mood for jokes.
" Remember kids, have a nice day! "
The large doors slammed behind them, cutting off the sound of Keel laughing out loudly. The group of four walked in silence down the corridor and into the service elevator concealed behind a false wall. They all stood motionless as the elevator started to descend down towards the awaiting street far below. Hetch dropped his head back and stared at the digital floor counter display above the elevator doors. The flicking two-digit screen gave him a few moments of peace, away from this madness, from his current situation. The stewardess looked at him, then at the bold digits counting slowly down towards zero. They both realised that their lives would soon be at an end, time was running out. Even if they did make it back with the case and cargo they did not trust the McKaffs to remove the arm bands.
To be continued...