Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Bubblegum Avatar #2 – "Born to be Killed" ❯ Chapter 13 - “Operation Mincemeat” ( Chapter 13 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
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Chapter 13 - “Operation Mincemeat”

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Besides the low hum of the truck’s engine, there wasn’t much in the way of sound in the compartment. Craig was the last one to reach the truck, covering the other four from any possible pursuit. As soon as the door closed behind him, Mackie put the truck in gear and headed home. The other four field Sabers had already removed their helmets, showing their expressions to be one of disappointment and relief. Nene, Linna and Priss had claimed chairs scattered around the compartment, while Sylia stood, watching Craig as he walked toward them.

In the low light of the compartment, Craig’s suit looked like something that had escaped from a junkyard. Dents and pits dotted the armor, along with scratches and other marks. Compared to him, the other Sabers’ hardsuits looked untouched.

Linna shot to her feet. “My god!” She said. “Are you all right?”
Craig, his helmet still on, looked at her. “No, I’m not all right,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I had several boomers try and kill me, I had a solar array dropped on top of me, I –“

”You can complain later,” Sylia said. “Take off your helmet. I want to see how badly you’re hurt.”

The looks changed to shock and surprise after Craig removed his helmet. The cut on his forehead was deep and still bleeding slightly. Dried blood covered the left side of his face, and mixed with his sweat, made him look like a savage of some sort. “What?” he asked, glancing around them.

“You’d better look in a mirror,” Priss said. “You look like hell.”

“Sit,” said Sylia, directing Craig towards a chair..

“I’m all right,” Craig said. “I-“

”Sit!” the other four Sabers said at once.

“Oh,” Craig replied, then sat down. Nene handed Sylia a small first aid kit. The leader removed some items and began working on Craig’s face.

“Well, that mission went to shit in a hurry,” Priss said.

“It was like they were waiting for us,” Linna said.

“They were,” Craig said, then grimaced as Sylia used a disinfectant to clean the gash. “Hey, Mackie! Any signs of pursuit?”

“Nothing I can see!” the teen replied. “But I’m going to take the long way home, just in case!”

“It appears Largo is still having an influence on Mason,” Sylia said. “Take off your hardsuit,” she said to Craig.

“Can’t it wait?” Craig asked.

“No. I want to see how badly bruised you are.”

“Bad enough.”

“That’s not good enough. You had an solar array fall on you, thrown across that rooftop at least twice, not to mention being hit by shrapnel, as you have been so far eager to complain about. You may have internal bleeding.”

“You mean right here and now? In front of all of you?”

“It’ll make a change,” said Priss with a grin.

“All right, but I’m not doing this willingly.”

“I don’t care,” Sylia replied. “If you want some semblance of privacy, go to the back of the compartment.”

He stood, walked back to the compartment and unsealed the hardsuit. “Someone tape Linna’s mouth shut so she doesn’t drool.”

“I don’t drool!” Linna shouted. Priss and Nene giggled, while Sylia managed to look slightly amused.

The torso halves separated, allowing Craig to step out of the hardsuit. Sylia walked back to him. “Turn around and remove the innersuit to your waist.”

After giving the other three a warning glance, Craig did so, tensing at the sounds of surprise and shock. “How bad, Boss?” he asked.

“Bad enough,” Sylia replied.

“Your back looks like an abstract painting,” Linna said. “All reds and blues.”

“Does it hurt?” Nene asked.

“It’s beginning to,” Craig admitted. “It’s – YOW!!!!”

The yell came as Sylia started to spread some cream across his back He spun, wincing as he did so. “That hurt!” he yelled at Sylia.

“I gathered that,” Sylia replied dryly. She held up the jar of medical cream. “Now, are you going to turn around, or are you going to continue giving all of us a free show?” A shower of catcalls and hoots from the other Sabers left no doubt about what she meant.

Craig spun away again, wincing once more. “Will you hurry up?” he hissed.

Sylia continued applying the cream across his back, careful not to press too hard. “Tonight was a failure, but we have a chance to find Irene in the morning.”

“How’s that?” Linna asked.

“The crowd outside the laboratory,” Sylia replied. “She will be there, because she doesn’t know that Jeremy wasn’t there.”

“But Mason is going to be looking for her,” Craig said. “He has to know that Jeremy had a fiancee.”

“Craig’s right,” Linna said, her expression one of concern. “He won’t do anything to her there, but he’ll make sure she won’t live long after that.”

“That’s why you and Priss will be in the crowd,” Sylia replied. She stopped rubbing Craig’s back. “You can cover your torso now.”

“Thanks,” Craig replied, slipping the innersuit back on. “What about me?”

“You and Nene will be in reserve, and act as spotters for Linna and Priss. You’ll use the office when you followed Jeremy.”

Craig nodded. “What time?”

“I want you there by six. am, before the crowd forms.”

“Oh great, three hours of sleep. I am so thrilled.”

Sylia sighed.“You can all sleep over at my place.”

“Dibs on the couch!”

“I guess Nene and I can share the guest room,” Linna said.

Craig gave the three of them a look of distaste. “Does that mean Priss has to sleep out in the living room? She snores.”

Priss shot out of her chair. “I DO NOT SNORE!”

Sylia sighed again. “Enough teasing, Craig, or you can sleep in the hardsuit room. Priss, sit down.”

Priss sat, but she glared daggers at Craig. Sylia looked at Craig. “As for snoring, you have no room to speak. I was actually considering adding soundproofing to the guest bedroom before you moved out.”

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad!’ Craig said.

“Yes you are,” said the other three replied in chorus.

Craig glared at them. “How long did you practice that?” he demanded.

“There was no need to,” Nene replied with an innocent look. “You’re a loud snorer.”

Craig opened his mouth to reply, but Sylia said, “Priss can sleep in the guest room on a cot. With the door closed, it should be enough to allow all of to get some rest. For now, everyone sit down and try to relax for a while.”

Linna and Craig retook their chairs, but Sylia remained standing. Craig looked at her, waited a minute, then said, “Why do you sit down Boss?”

“I prefer standing,” Sylia replied. “Besides, all the seats are occupied.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Craig replied as he stood again. “You sit here. I’ll go join Mackie up front and make sure he’s watching the road and not you changing.”

“There’s no reaso–“ Sylia bean.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Craig replied again, giving her a baneful look. “If I can’t be the stoic hero type, you can’t be one either. So sit down and relax, will you? You’re making me nervous.”

“I am all right,” Sylia replied.

“Well, I’m not. So sit down and stop pretending you’re not human.”

“And if I say no?”

Craig frowned. “I haven’t thought about that,” he admitted, “but when I do, you’ll wish you’d sat down.”

“I’m not the one with the bruised back,” Sylia replied, folding her arms.

“No, I am. But you’re the boss, and you should learn to relax more.”

“I am relaxed.”

“If you were any more ‘relaxed’, you could power your hardsuit for an entire year.”

Sylia pointed at the empty chair. “Sit,” she said.

Craig grinned. “You first.”

“You’re being childish.”

“So sue me.”

“Come on Sylia,” said Priss. “Sit down before Craig actually does come up with something.”

Sylia gave them all a cool look. “I refuse to –“

Craig grabbed Sylia under her armpits and carried her, hardsuit and all, over to the chair before depositing her in it. “Now it’s settled,” he said. “I’m going up front and talk to Mackie. Ladies.”

Sylia gave him a baneful glare, but Craig ignored her and went up to the front cabin. No one said anything, but the others noted that Sylia stayed in the chair for the entire trip back to the Lady633 building.

*****


It was a little after six AM when a pair of bleary-eyed individuals entered the office Craig had used for a couple of days to watch Jeremy Kwan. There wasn’t much to the office – two rooms, with a small bathroom. It was furnished, but most of the furniture looked like it predated the Second Kanto Earthquake. A pair of monitors on one of the desks and the small number of cables running to and fro around the office were brand new and very high-tech.

Nene frowned in the doorway as she saw the new equipment. “What’s this for?” she asked Craig.

“What?” Craig grunted.

“The monitors on the desk.”

“Oh, them.” He shuffled in, a bag with the logo of a fast food company in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. “I couldn’t stand in the window all day watching the building – certain nasty people will notice and start asking questions. It would also be tiring and boring to the extreme. So, Sylia had someone patch these monitors into the building’s outside security cameras. With a little adjustment, I can watch the building the entire day without showing myself.”

“Oh.” Nene looked at the name painted on the glass partition of the door. It read: RUFUS T. FIREFLY, ATTORNEY AT LAW. “Is this another of your alternate identities?” she asked as she closed the door.

“No, it’s a poor attempt at a joke,” Craig replied. “Ever hear of the Marx Brothers?”

“No.”

Craig smiled as he sat down in the chair in front of the monitors. “Hail Freedoina!” he said.

Nene looked at him in complete confusion. “Huh?”

“I’ll explain it later.” He leaned forward and turned the monitors on. “Let’s see what we can see.” As the monitor came on, he reached into the bag he carried and pulled out something wrapped in foil. “Want one?’ He asked, holding the wrapped item towards Nene.

“Er...no,” she replied. “That’s...er, I have to watch my weight.”

Craig raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Suit yourself.” He unwrapped the sandwich and stated eating it. Suddenly, he put the sandwich down and rubbed his temples, his face etched in pain.

“What’s wrong?” Nene asked.

“Headache,” Craig replied. “Not enough sleep.” He reached into a jacket pocket and withdrew a small bottle. He held up the bottle so Nene could see it. “Aspirin.” He dropped three of the tablets into his palm and popped them into his mouth. He followed it with a long pull of tea and leaned back in his chair. “I hope this doesn’t take long,” he muttered

Nene found another chair and sat down, ignoring the squeals from the chair. “I hope so too,” she replied.

*****

The crowd started forming half an hour after Craig and Nene arrived. There was already a number of ADP vehicles parked around the entrance of the main building, and it didn’t take long for word to spread. It started with a couple of worried family members, who were turned away by the ADP police officers near the foot of the stairs. They were joined by several other family members, then a few curious onlooker joined then, then a couple of reporters showed up. This attracted more people and reporters, and soon the crowd was over a hundred and still climbing.

“White to team,” Sylia said in a crisp voice. She and Mackie were in a van parked half a block away from the lab, acting both as commander and reserve in case things went to Hell in a hurry. “Sound off.”

“Blue’s ready.”

“Green is in position.”

“Black’s ready,” said Craig, trying hard not to yawn.

“Pink’s ready,” said Nene.

“Now we wait and watch,” said Sylia.

*****

Leon surveyed the destroyed lab with disgust. Behind the dark lenses of the sunglasses, he took in the entire room.

The call had come several hours before, but it had taken the fire department two hours to declare the area safe for anyone else to enter. The bodies had already been moved from the room to a makeshift morgue upstairs, but there was still a sickening smell of burnt flesh in the air. Debris was everywhere, most in unrecognizable shapes. Several ADP troopers were gingerly inspecting the damage, looking for any conspicuous signs of a crime.

Off to one side, two GENOM reps were talking to Daley. Leon listened as he looked around the scene of the ‘accident’. “No, you’re wrong,” the man in the brown suit was saying to Daley, “we’re with the appliance department.”

Right, Leon thought, Must have been one hell of a toaster that exploded.

“And besides,” the man continued, “A patrol section came right away and kept us out.”

Daley didn’t looked convinced. He kicked the remains of a chair to one side as he said, “If you’re covering something up, it won’t do any good.”

The other GENOM rep said, “But it’s under the jurisdiction of the R & D department. It... it’s got nothing to do with us, really.”

Leon turned and stepped between the two GENOM reps. “As witnesses, you’re useless!” he snarled, “All right, get lost!”

The two men, an expression of fear and relief on their faces, quickly left. Back to business, Leon though, then turned toward the ADP troopers going through the wreckage. “Hey!” he shouted, “Someone get the guys in the patrol section and the research department.” One of the troopers waved in acknowledgment and left the lab. “And get everything in this room identified!”

“You know GENOM’s not going to let us find anything,” Daley said.

“Well, the might slip up this time,” Leon replied.

“You don’t think this was an accident, do you?”

“Nope and neither do you.”

“Well, the explosions do seem to be evenly distributed,” Daley replied, glancing around the room. “A little too evenly, if you ask me. Also, there seems to be something missing, but I don’t know what.”

“My thoughts exactly. Can you think of a single appliance that would do this much damage if it exploded?”

“Nope.”

“Then what is GENOM hiding? And why hide it here in a subsidiary that makes appliances?”

“Because it’s something GENOM don’t want people to know about,” said Daley.

“Exactly. And what sort of things does GENOM not want people to know about?”

“Boomers?”

“Not just any boomers,” Leon said, “but combat boomers.”

“Well, they certainly made a mistake somewhere.”

“But I don’t think it was a mistake. I think they made sure this project stayed a secret.”

“Fifteen lives is a bit steep for a boomer design.”

“Not if you’re GENOM. Let’s look around a bit more. Maybe there’s something somewhere else that can shed light on this.”

*****

“Well, well,” Craig said sourly. “Look what just slithered out of the woodwork.” He pointed to the screen.

“Mason?” Nene asked as she peered at the screen.

“Yep and his bunch of boomer bimbos.”

Mason had just walked to the top of the stairs, trailed by three women in matching outfits of black trimmed with white and red. Nene looked at the women. “They don’t look like boomers, do they?”

“They are.” Craig replied. “Killing machines, every one of them.” He touched a control and the camera started moving around. “Now, where is she?” he muttered.

“I see her!” Nene called out, pointing at the screen.

“Where?” Craig demanded.

“Near the steps, off to the right of the screen.”

Craig looked in the direction Nene indicated and saw Irene, moving through the crowd with dogged determination. “Black to Green and Blue. We’ve spotted her, moving towards the stairs to the right of the slimebucket.”

“We see her,” Linna said.

“So does Mason,” Priss said. Sure enough, Mason was staring at Irene the same way a cat stares at a charging mouse. The young woman didn’t hesitate as she charged up the stairs at the Special assistant and his entourage. Both Priss and Linna were angling in on Irene, but she was too far ahead. She stopped on the step below Mason and from her body language, she was yelling at him.. Mason held up a hand to stop his boomer assistants from advancing.

“Where are you guys?” Craig muttered.

Suddenly, one of the boomers, the one with purple hair stepped forward and backhanded Irene. The girl fell back, sliding down several steps.

“Priss and Linna are moving in!” Nene shouted. Craig looked at where the redhead was pointing, and grimaced as the singer nailed one of the AD troopers with a knee between the legs. As the man dropped, Linna and Priss raced up the stairs.

“Remember, Blue,” said Sylia. “Those women are boomers. Do NOT try and slap them.”

“I remembered,” Priss snarled. They reached the still stunned Irene.

“Nene,” Craig said sharply, his eyes never leaving the screen. “Do you have Mason’s new cell phone number?”

“Yes, but –“

”I need it now!”

Nene pulled out a small electronic pad and tapped a couple of buttons. “Here it is,” she said,. Passing the pad over to Craig, but why –“

Craig had drown out a cell phone of his own and snatched the pad from Nene’s hand. “We need a distraction while Priss and Linna grab Irene. I can distract Mason and maybe embarrass him on TV too.”

“How are you going to avoid him tracing the call?”

“It’s a satellite phone,” Craig replied, reading the number off the pad. “It’s set to bounce off a dozen satellite between me and Der slimeball with less then a second delay. If he somehow manages to trace it, we’ll be long gone from here.”

Nene nodded, then spoke into her radio. “Blue and Green, this is Pink. Black is going to distract the Bishop while you two grab the Queen.”

Craig hurriedly punched in the numbers into the portable phone. It rang three times before a female voice answered. On the screen, Craig noticed that one of the female boomer assistants, the one with white hair, was talking on a portable phone.

“Yes?” the female asked.

“Hey honey,” Craig said, “I need to talk to your boss, the weasel with the slicked back hair, the shifty eyes and the lack of balls.”

“Who?”

“Mister Brian Mason, the mobile oil slick that’s your boss.”

“I’m sorry, but –“

“Look replicant,” Craig said sharply, “tell him its Bert Van Vliet here, and I still think he’s a big fucking baby.” Craig watched as the Boomer stepped over to Mason and whispered in his ear. Mason snatched the phone out of her hand.

“Mister Van Vliet,” Mason hissed.

“That’s me,” Craig replied cheerfully. “Kill anyone lately? Oh, wait a minute, you went and killed an entire lab full of people last night, didn’t you?”

On the TV screen, Mason’s jaw tightened. “What do you want?”

“Well, I’m sitting in my underground bunker here in China, watching you strut around like a neutered rooster, so I decided to give you a call.”

“I have no time for you foolishness,” Mason growled.

Nene nudged him and pointed at the screen. Leon had walked out of the building and towards Mason, only to be intercepted by one of the female boomers. Craig nodded and smiled.

“Well,” he continued cheerfully, “you have so much of your own foolishness, you don’t need any of mine. By the way, what’s with the three female boomers? Tired of being laughed at in the bedroom by human women?”

“You Son of a Bitch!” Mason yelled. Even at this distance, Craig could see an interested look on Leon’s face as he watched the highly agitated Special assistant.

“At least mine can walk around, your’s slithers,” Craig shot back..” Is it true that even sexaroids turn you down because your package is extra small?”

Mason’s hand tighten around the phone as if he was going to crush it. “You are a dead man,” he said slowly.

“In sixty years maybe. But I’ll outlast you. I figure another couple of years, at most, you’ll drop dead from a massive heart attack. GENOM will give you a nice funeral, then forget all about you while they’re still shoveling dirt onto your coffin. Why don’t you take a vacation? I hear Mars is nice this time of year.”

“What do you want?”

“Beside wanting you dead? Money, power, my own harem of playmates, the usual stuff.” Craig’s voice went from jovial to cold in a blink of an eye. “But I wanted to call you and tell you that one day, when you least expect it, we will meet again. In the meantime, I will be watching you, and I will make sure you know that I’ve been around. I will say that you have to be very careful from now on, because not all my mementos will be whoopee cushions.”

“I will take great pleasure in your death.”

“You haven’t said anything original yet, snooky,“ Craig replied, switching back to jovial. “Well, I’d better get going. I have some things I need to do. I do have two words of advice before I go. The first is don’t make threats when there’s a police officer within hearing distance. Second, don’t trust Largo. He’s the result of one of your other selves, and your counterpart didn’t survive the mistakes he made when he created Largo, and neither will you. Good-bye.” Craig disconnected the call and put the phone away. He went limp. “Did they get her?” he asked, not looking up at the monitors..

“Yes,” Nene replied. “Linna took her away while Priss followed. They’re taking her to the safe house right now.”

“Right. We’ll wait ten minutes, then slip out the side door and –“

”White to Black,” Sylia snapped. “What the hell did you just do?”

“Hi White,” Craig said. “What’s up?”

“What did you do to Mason?”

“Oh. How did you hear about that?”

“Because I can see that Mason is extremely pissed, and you’re the only one I know who can do that.” On the monitor, Mason was stalking into the building., the three female boomers following. From his posture, Craig could see Mason’s tension and anger. Leon watched them walk inside, a grin on his face.

“It’s a talent.”

“That’s not funny!” Sylia snapped.

“Look White,” said Craig carefully. “You saw that the Queen was yapping at Brian the Hutt. Green and Blue needed a distraction, and I gave them one. Mason was more concerned about me then he was the Queen. Short of standing at the window and mooning him, I didn’t have many choices at my fingertips. We didn’t need him thinking straight right then.”

“You had better get out of there now,” Sylia said. “There’s no telling what Mason will do next.”

“Maybe he’ll fall over dead in a fit of anger,” Craig suggested.

“I doubt that. Get going. I want both of you at the safehouse before the others arrive.”

“What about the equipment?”

“Someone else will take care of it.”

“Right, we’re on our way.” He stood and motioned to Nene. “You heard the boss, let’s roll.”

*****

In an office four floors above the scene outside, Largo watched the crowd below with some interest. Mason had gone out to leave, only to be confronted by a young woman. For a moment, he wonder if Mason had recognized the girl as Irene Chang, but he was more concerned with the phone call the special assistant had received. Whoever it was, they had made Mason angry.

Just then, Mason slammed the office door open and strode in, his face a mask of fury. Largo turned from the window. “What happened?” he asked in a flat tone. As much as he wanted to show his amusement, instinct told him that anything resembling humor at this time would not be a good idea.

“That son of a bitch Van Vliet just called me!” Mason snarled. “He taunted me!”

“So that’s what you were doing on the phone. I couldn’t tell exactly what happened from here.”

Mason strode over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of alcohol. “Any progress on finding him?” he growled as he poured a drink.

“No. The lack of a definite description is making it very difficult to track him down.”

“I don’t care.” Mason downed the contents of the glass in one shot.

“You may care about that girl you assistant slapped. That was Irene Chang.”

Mason spun. “Kwan’s whore?” he snapped.

“His fiancee,” Largo replied mildly.

“I don’t care who the fuck she is,” Mason snapped. “I want her found and killed.”

“As to the finding part,” Largo replied, “one of my aides is following them even as we speak.”

Mason gave him a cold stare. “I want my boomer to take care of killing her.”

“Of course, but I want to keep my aide there as a backup.”

“Agreed, but it is to act only if my boomer fails to do the job.”

“Of course. Tonight?”

“Yes!”

“As soon as my aide reports in, I will pass along the information.”

“Good.”

The phone rang. Largo picked up the receiver. “Yes? . . . .I see, one moment, please.” He looked at Mason. “Inspector McNichol wishes to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to him!”

Largo said into the phone, “I’m sorry, but Mister Mason is a bit busy to see anyone right now. . . .I don’t know when he will be available. . . . I suggest you make an appointment with his secretary. . . . Yes, it was a terrible accident. . . . I am Mister Largo . . . .Thank you Inspector. Good-bye.” He hung up the phone. “Is there anything else?’ he asked Mason.

“That’s it for now.”

“Very well.” Largo kept his features from showing any emotion until he reached the elevator. Once inside the car, he allowed a frown to show. That fool, he thought. He is becoming more unstable each passing day. I may have to move earlier than I wanted to. No matter. I’ll wait for a little longer, and see if Mason can eliminate the Knight Sabers on his own. In the meanwhile, the Chang girl is still a danger, but also a possible lead into Kwan’s disappearance. If I play my hand right, I can get both of them....

*****

“Any luck?” Daley asked Leon as the tall Inspector walked over to where he was standing.

“Nope. I talked to a Mister Largo, and he said that Mister Mason is, and I quote, ‘a bit busy to see anyone right now.’”

Daley looked at the crowd at the base of the steps. “He did seem to be a bit upset at that phone call.”

“Upset? Mason threaten the person he was talking to at least twice and whoever it was didn’t seem to make his day in any case.”

“Somebody has a death wish.”

“Tell me about it.”

Daley fished around in his pockets for a cigarette. “What do we do now?”

“We continue until we’re pulled off this case.”

“That won’t be long.”

“I know.” Leon took a deep breath. “But maybe we’ll be lucky.”