Mercenary

“Come on, Detective, don’t be shy. You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” 

Detective Galanos glared at the tan, lean man lounging behind the desk opposite her.  

“I’m tired and I don’t have time for your games, Mister Ivonak,” she growled. “Just tell me which locations your team has pinpointed.” 

“You sound tired, Sandra,” replied Ivonak, his tone softening from its usual mocking tone. “Have you been getting enough sleep? Did you try those meds I suggested? Latest thing out of our labs, I swear I take two and-” 

“No. Look, thank you for your concern, Michael. I appreciate it, really I do. Everyone in the precinct knows we would’ve had to close up shop if it wasn’t for your corporation. But right now, I’m trying to do my job. Our analysts have tracked the next Archetype exchange to one of five locations. I know Nash Industries has been keeping its own tabs on VOC, I need to know which locations you’ve come up with.” 

Michael Ivonak sighed and ran a hand through dark, wavy hair. Galanos knew the Nash Industries CEO was handsome, but the way he looked at her felt… unsettling. 

“Alright, have it your way,” said Ivonak, making a show of throwing imaginary cards on the table between them. “Our team have narrowed it down to three locations: Severn, Odenton and Hampstead.”  

“We identified Odenton too,” murmured Galanos, taking out her data slate and making a few notes. “I think it will happen later this afternoon – I’d better get prepared.” 

“So do I,” replied Ivonak, his face melting back into its usual boyish smile. “Big presentation in Aberdeen today.” 

“Well if I asked, you’d probably say something about corporate confidentiality,” said Galanos with a wry smile. “But the fact that you’re mentioning it to me means you’re actually dying to boast about it.” 

Ivonak laughed as he showed the detective to the door. 

“You’re the only one who can do this to me, you know that?” he chuckled. “It’s like I’m completely transparent. But no, I can’t tell you everything, save that it will showcase what Nash Industries is truly capable of.” 

“Well, good luck, I guess.” 

Ugh, You said that? You shouldn’t care! You never used to care about this kind of corporate crap. Remember who you are! 

Ivonak grinned at Galanos’s expression and gave a little bow. 

“Well good luck to you too, Detective. I’d tell you to stay safe but we both know you’d ignore it. Go catch VOC with their pants down.” 

“This is leading up to some kind of terrible double entendre, isn’t it?” 

“Of course not! Well… maybe.” 

“That will be all, Mister Ivonak. I’ll call you later this afternoon.” 

–

“Team is in position, Detective. Shall we give the order or wait for Captain Rodrigue to arrive?”  

“Wait a bit, Jimmy. A new group has just been spotted.” 

Galanos tapped her ear to silence the channel, the implant in her ear obliging with a low beep. Checking the data slate, the detective frowned.  

This isn’t right. This should have been a small handover: VOC sells an Archetype sample, some shady corporation tries to buy it to steal the formula. Word has probably gotten around by now. There’d be companies lined up around the block to get their hands on technology that can bring back the memories of the dead. 

So why are we looking at some gun-runner’s clubhouse? 

The detective sighed and opened a channel to the uniformed officer waiting with the rest of the armed police behind the abandoned apartment block.  

“Hey Jimmy, didn’t you tell me the Russian mob had been trying to shift this gang?” 

“That’s right, Sandra. Want to install drugs or a brothel, most likely. They’ve had a few firefights, but since no-one else was getting hurt the top brass couldn’t spare the men to take them out. Well, until today.” 

“This isn’t right, Jim. We’re missing something. Who are the newcomers?” 

“It’s a small group, could be the Russians? Not the usual suits and guns combo, though. These guys are, ah, moving differently.” 

Galanos snorted. “What do you mean, moving differently? They’re the mob. They turn up, jump out of their car and shoot the place up, then drive away.” 

“Not these guys, Sandra. Oh crap-”  

“Jimmy? Jimmy?” 

Galanos growled and drew her gun, the weapon recognizing the implant in her hand with a friendly chirp. Sending a signal to the rest of the team, the detective ran towards the dilapidated apartment block, swearing as she ducked past a hail of gunfire.    

“Goddamn it Jimmy, talk to me!” 

“It’s the Russians – or whoever. Stay back!”  

Galanos only had a second to see one of her team scream and fall behind the burnt-out body of a car before she barreled into the building’s lobby. Keeping her weapon up, Galanos noted the corpses of several young men, covered in gang tattoos and still clutching black market weapons. Gun fire rattled up the stairwell.  

“Detective Galanos, take a look,” whispered one of the uniformed policemen, nodding to the corner of the stairs where another dead body was curled up. It took the detective a second to recognize the army fatigues. 

“VOC operatives,” she nodded.  

“But why would this VOC you’ve been chasing be cleaning house for the Russians?”  

The detective frowned and crept out into the stairwell.  

A small group, and yet they’re tearing this building apart. The other VOC operatives I’ve tangled with haven’t been all that tough. I wonder…. 

Acting on instinct, Galanos tore open the combat vest and spotted a small leather pouch slung across the chest. Carefully easing the pouch over, the detective saw a small hollow in which had been set a tiny fragment of bloody red bone.  

It’s an Archetype sample! Are they all wearing them? And whose memories have they taken on? 

Gunfire screamed through the stairwell and sparks flew on the staircase next to Galanos’s head. The detective felt rough hands yank her back but as she fumbled with the pouch the tiny fragment spilled out into her hands.  

“Galanos! Are you alright?”  

“She’s not answering!”  

“What’s happening, officers? Was she hit?” 

“No Captain, it’s like she’s having some kind of seizure!”  

“Get her back! Get her back into the lobby now!” 

Galanos tried to mouth a reply but the world disappeared into fog.  

“Do you think you’re some kind of prize pig, solider?” screamed the Drill Sergeant. “Special Forces is nothing like your weak-ass general training, maggot. More than two thirds of candidates fail this course. It’s up to you to prove otherwise.” 

Line up the target. Squeeze trigger, not pull. Perfect Shot. Each time. Every time.   

Mud was in his eyes as he looked up. The other Rangers were already moving out of the swamp towards their objective.  

Line up the target. Squeeze trigger, not pull. Perfect Shot. Each time. Every time.   

 He’d lost track of how many missions they’d sent him on. They all blurred together after a while. Drinking helped, even if he had to be careful not to let the others see. It’d be ok, as long as he kept up his evaluations.  

Line up the target. Squeeze trigger, not pull. Perfect Shot. Each time. Every time.   

He’d had too much, he knew. He should have been able to take down these pasty little shits in a heartbeat but they caught him stumbling out of the bar. The sack felt rough against his face. Hands – too many hands, pulling him down. He heard someone cock a gun. 

Line up the target. Squeeze trigger, not pull–

A short, cold pain blossomed across his chest.  

Galanos surfaced from the memories, pushing through the fog to stare into the worried faces of Officer Nolan and Captain Rodrigue.  

“I know what VOC is trying to achieve,” she rasped before either could open their mouths.  

“Slow down, Detective,” warned the Captain.  “We just pulled you out of a firefight. We’ve secured the ground floor, but those VOC operatives are still up there.”  

Galanos shook the cobwebs out of her vision and pulled herself up. Out of habit, she took in the details of her surroundings, the bullet-riddled lobby now crowded with Baltimore police. Several of them were wearing the new tactical gear supplied by Nash Industries. Galanos whistled at the shining weaponry arrayed before her. 

“Wow. Really called out the guard on this, Cap, didn’t you?”  

“Everything we have,” replied Rodrigue grimly. Galanos was struck by how strange the old man looked in such high-tech battle armor. “The days of the Baltimore police being hobbled by our budget are over. It’s high time the mob and the gun-runners realized that.”  

“Be careful, Cap. There’s something more going on here.” 

“What’s going on, Sandra?” asked Jim. Galanos looked around and pointed to the bone fragment lying at her feet. 

“There’s only a handful of VOC, yet they’ve taken down an entire gang of weapons dealers without slowing down. I think I know why. They’ve been given Archetype treatment – via the remains of a murdered special forces soldier. The VOC operatives have literally downloaded a lifetime of military combat experience.”  

“But why?” asked Jim, his doughy face creasing up in confusion. 

“Don’t you see? Money. The Russians haven’t been able to shift these guys for months, then suddenly VOC has this product for sale, can turn a small group into the most badass soldiers on the planet.” 

“So all of this…” stared the Captain. 

“It’s just a weapons test for a client,” finished Galanos picking up the bone fragments with a plastic evidence bag and putting it in her pocket. “Looks like we’re the next test subjects.”  

Galanos noted how the assembled officers looked worriedly at each other. 

After years of a wafer–thin budget, we’ve gotten too used to avoiding large-scale confrontation. 

The Captain glanced around at his men.  

“Don’t falter! Remember your duty!” Rodrigue barked, his voice rising to one of command. “We have the VOC trapped above us. If we capture them alive, it will be a major victory for the precinct!” 

Galanos tried not to roll her eyes. 

You mean Nash Industries will keep on sponsoring us. 

“I’m going to negotiate,” the Captain announced, stepping into the stairwell. Galanos nodded at Jimmy and they drew their weapons to stand close behind.  

“Attention VOC operatives!” yelled the Captain up the stairwell. “We’ve scanned the building. We know there are still at least ten of you up there. We have control over this entire block. Your comrades aren’t coming to help you – the mob certainly won’t. So here’s the deal: throw down your weapons and come peacefully. If you tell us what we need to know, it will improve your situation.” 

There was some low murmuring from above and a young man in combat fatigues and a balaclava slowly walked halfway down the stairwell.   

“You want to negotiate?” asked the masked figure. Galanos noted the European accent, but couldn’t place the country. “We’ve got time. Start talking, copper.” 

“We start talking when you lay down your weapons,” growled Rodrigue.  

The VOC operative shrugged.  

“The way I see it, we have ten sharpshooters on the stairs above me. You can storm us, but you’ll lose half your men. Or we can just start picking off people in nearby apartment blocks unless you agree to stay put.” 

“You don’t have any backup!” roared the Captain. “You cannot escape this building.” 

“We just need to hold out. As for backup, there’s already more than enough men en route. We already have the target.” 

The Captain glared at Officer Nolan, who nodded and backed away. Galanos heard the police officer furiously shouting orders to the remaining men in the lobby. 

“Do you have a hostage up there?” asked the Captain, stepping forward. There was a murmuring from above and the hairs on the back of Galanos’s neck prickled.  

“Captain, get back!” she shouted, raising her weapon and looking for movement.  

Rodrigue turned, and as his leg crumpled beneath him Galanos saw the look of surprise flash across his wrinkled face.  

“Captain is down! Captain is down!” shouted Galanos, reaching down and pulling her superior officer out of the stairwell. The other officers rushed forward to cover Galanos as the detective dragged her Captain to safety. Glancing back Galanos saw the VOC operatives had already withdrawn from the stairs.  

“We need a medical team! They tried to kill Cap!” shouted Jimmy, tapping his ear to activate his implants. “We also believe the VOC operatives have taken a hostage.”  

“I’m not so sure,” said Galanos, tearing open a medical pack handed by another officer and clamping a guaze bandage down on the wound. 

“Talk to me, Detective,” murmured the Captain, his face pale. “It’ll help keep me conscious at least.” 

“I don’t think they were trying to kill you – I saw a glimpse of the Archetype memories, and they probably could have shot off your eyelashes if they wanted to. Did you hear what he said about being en route to a target? Some gun runners in the middle of a turf war with the Russian mob aren’t worth this kind of effort. Look at what’s going on here! A small group has almost all of our available tactical teams locked down in an apartment building.” 

“Oh God,” muttered Rodrigue, putting a hand to his forehead. “They got us.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Officer Nolan.  

“I mean that this whole thing was a diversion, to focus our attention on a meaningless target,” the Captain replied. “Galanos. Who’s the real target?” 

Galanos grimaced. The answer was obvious, and yet she’s still been caught out with the rest of them.  

Big presentation in Aberdeen today… 

“Captain, I’m aware this still may be a hostage crisis, but I need to take as many men as you can spare,” she answered. “I know exactly where VOC is headed.” 

–

“Goddamn it I don’t have time for this! Just put me through to Michael! Tell him it’s Sandra from the Baltimore PD and that he needs to cancel the presentation! Yes, there is a direct threat to him. Can you just – hello? Hello?” 

The line cut out and Galanos swore, dismissing the channel with a tap on her ear and sinking back into the passenger seat. 

Jimmy kept his eye on the road, but Galanos saw a small smile.  

“Sooo…” said the policeman. “Michael, huh? First name basis now.” 

“Shuddup, Jimmy,” sighed Galanos, pinching the bridge if her nose and pulling out an energy drink from her stash in the glovebox. “It’s not like we’re dating or anything. He’s just a person of interest in a case.” 

“Oh I think you’re interested, all right,” grinned Jim, tapping a few directions on his data slate with his free hand. “Everyone thinks you two are dating anyway.” 

“Jim, I don’t have any kind of – I mean, we’re not… Look, just drop it. He doesn’t interest me.” 

Liar.  

Shut up. It’s true. 

Is it though? 

“Well, whatever’s going on with you two crazy kids, you’d better hold onto your butt,” replied Jim. “Looks like we’re late to the party.” 

Galanos grimaced and took a gulp from the brightly-colored can as the police cars sped through security checkpoint marked Aberdeen Military Testing Ground. Even from her seat she noted the dead bodies of soldiers lying by the sides of the open boom gate. She tapped the implant in her ear. 

“Everybody, get ready,” Galanos barked. “This is going to be a live-fire situation.” 

The police car sirens shrieked as the vehicles barged into a wide grassy presentation area lined with trees. Galanos noted that the rows of seats were empty, but sure enough a raised podium had been set up in front of the field, with a long line of cameras focused on the figure behind the lectern. Michael Ivonak was dressed in a crisp, black suit, however Galanos’s gaze focused on the dozen men in army fatigues tumbling out of a white mini-van as it pulled up next to the stage.  

“Michael, get down!” shouted Galanos, pulling her weapon free and preparing to fire in the uniformed figures. The Nash Industries CEO looked at the police cars in startled confusion, then tapped his ear and ducked down beneath the podium.  

Galanos didn’t have the chance to yell anything else. The moment the police cars stopped the VOC operatives turned and enveloped the vehicles in a barrage of gunfire. Acting on decades of experience, Jim swore and hunkered down in his seat, but Galanos grit her teeth and squinted through the bullet-proof glass.  

Who says corporate sponsorship is all bad?  

“Officers, exit your vehicles on the safe side and take up defensive positions!” she snarled, elbowing Jimmy to move them clambering out if the car behind him. The air chattered and whined around her, and the air smelt of dust and gunpowder. Galanos tried to contact the other officers but realized the cacophony made it a futile gesture. 

“We’re pinned down!” yelled Jimmy, ducking down next to her. “We can’t handle this! We have to pull out!” 

“No, Goddamn it!” yelled Galanos, “We still have a job to-” 

The hail of bullets surrounding the police cars suddenly stopped, and Galanos peeked out cautiously from the side of the police car.  

“Jesus Christ,” muttered Jimmy. “Who are they?” 

On the other side of the podium an armored vehicle stormed out of the forest at the edge of the presentation field. Bullets rattled ineffectually off the dark black surface, and Galanos heard the VOC members shouting at each in confusion. The policemen steadied themselves as the hatches of the armored vehicle slid open and a new group of men and women burst out, dressed in dark grey combat uniforms with a single white stripe across their chest.  

More VOC? Where did they come from? 

But the newcomers rushed to surround Michael where he crouched behind the lectern, brandishing assault weapons what snarled in short, controlled bursts.  

Within a minute it was over, the camouflage-clad VOC operatives lying dead by the side of their van.  

“Sound off!” shouted Galanos. “Is everyone ok?” 

“A couple of officers wounded, but I think we’re all here,” said Jimmy, leaning back against the side of the police car. “Oh God, I thought we were done for.” 

“Detective Galanos!” shouted a familiar voice from the podium. “Sandra! Are you ok?” 

“Michael? What the hell just happened?” 

Galanos brushed herself off and felt he fear and tension if the day focus on the tall, lean figure smiling on the podium. Michael however had already turned away, smiling his sly smile into the line of cameras as the black and grey troops lined up neatly behind him.  

“This ends today’s field demonstration, ladies, gents, everything in between. I think we’ve demonstrated  that CorpSec has proven it’s worth in their field of security and counter-terrorism. In troubled times such as these, when even our dedicated police teams are overwhelmed-” 

“Hey!” shouted Galanos. 

“- there is a new force, armed with the latest weaponry and implants Nash Engineering has to offer, who can rise to the occasion anywhere in the world. That’s right, valued investors, the larger Nash Group will be deploying CorpSec for your corporate security needs in every corner of the globe. Governments might collapse under our dire economic conditions, but CorpSec will never falter.”  

“That son of a bitch,” muttered Jimmy, shaking his head. “He set us up. Set the whole thing up.” 

“The crown jewel of our new CorpSec forces is the latest in bio-engineering,” continued Ivonak confidently. “Today, we’re proud to introduce a new product we’ve named the Archetype Project. Now you’ll be hearing more about this exciting new product in the coming weeks, but for today’s demonstration this product has been used to upload combat information and muscle-memory techniques directly into the human brain without the need for implants. That’s right folks, these troops are all sharing a common set of lived experiences-” 

Galanos looked down at the shattered debris of her police car and considered whether losing Nash Industries sponsorship was worth more than hurling something heavy at Ivonak’s self-satisfied grin. However as she rolled her eyes in frustration she caught a movement near the treeline.  

A VOC solider. Military rifle. He’s a sniper. A last trump card from VOC.  

“Ivonak! Get down!” yelled Galanos, but the man in the dark suit smiled genially, still fixated on the cameras. Galanos tried to wave, but the CorpSec soldiers were still standing to perfect attention. Galanos watched the green-clad figure draw a bead in the podium, looked down at her gun and grit her teeth.  

With her free hand she reached into her pocket and felt for a tiny fragment of bone. 

The memories started to rise up over her vision, but Galanos shook the mist away and held her weapon firmly.  

Line up the target. Squeeze trigger, not pull. Perfect Shot. Each time. Every time. 

The gunfire sounded painfully loud.  

The grey CorpSec solders whipped out their assault rifles with almost inhuman precision, but Michael barked an order and the men and woman froze. 

At the edge of the presentation field, the VOC sniper grunted and slumped against a tree.  

Michael caught Galanos’s gaze and the Detective nodded.  

“That will be all, Mister Ivonak. I’ll call you later.” 

–

“So that went rather well, I thought,” remarked Ivonak, his voice whispering in Galanos’s implant as clearly as if he was sitting at her desk with her.  

“You almost died!” hissed Galanos, but stopped when she noted the other officers glancing in her direction. “What the hell were you thinking?”  

“I was thinking that I saw a good opportunity. After all, VOC stole the Archetype from me, why shouldn’t I steal their advanced combat personnel concept from them? This way I get to test out the idea, make VOC look incompetent, and show a new military application to some prospective clients.” 

Galanos sighed. Even without his presence, she could still see his boyish grin.  

“And when were you going to tell the police about this little plan if yours?” 

“Hey, the Baltimore PD had a great afternoon; they got to show their strength, take out some gun runners – or at least look like they did – and test out their new tactical gear, courtesy of Nash Industries.” 

“Goddamn it Michael, you could have told me you knew VOC was going to attack you.” 

Michael chuckled.  

“Well, I should thank you for saving me. I wasn’t expecting you to crash my presentation – but I’m glad you did.” 

That probably the closest to real gratitude that I’m going to get. Bastard.  

“So what’s the plan with this CorpSec of yours? Now that you’ve let the Archetype cat out of the bag, are all your corporate storm troopers going to get the same treatment?” 

“Pffft! Hardly. The process is still hideously expensive. No, this was just to show what Nash is capable of.” 

“And what is Nash Industries capable of, Michael? Should I be worried about my job?” 

“Sandra, if you wanted to join CorpSec, you can pick and choose your position. But your precinct is under my protection. As long as the Baltimore PD support me, they will have complete job security.” 

“But you’re setting up your own military force! What laws are you upholding? Whose authority are you acting under?” 

“Power makes its own authority, Sandra.” 

Galanos frowned as Michael ended the call, and the detective leaned back and pondered the CEO’s words.