“Give me the situation.”
“We got a dozen hostages and one mad bastard with a shotgun,” the lieutenant said.
It was the same story and same modus operandi I had encountered eight times in the past six months. A lone gunman with a close range weapon taking a small group of people hostage, only to make incredulous demands. I knew the cases were all linked, but the anonymity and randomness of the attacks were what bothered me most of all. Even with all my skills, I was no closer to a resolution.
“Walk me through the layout of the building. What am I working with?” I asked.
The deputy pressed a few buttons and brought up an overview of the structure and its surrounds. The deputy cleared her throat and pointed to a small alleyway on the western side.
“Access to the rear is through here. Standard service alley. Full of rats, garbage, homeless, you name it, it gathers there. Most windows are second floor and those which aren’t are barred. It’d take too long to cut through, even with the most powerful tools we have,” she said.
“How do the doors look?”
The deputy shook her head. “Reinforced steel with re-locking cores. If there are locks, they require two-factor authentication. Face or prints on top of a key. Lock picking is useless, as the chambers are specially designed to operate only at specific times.”
“That’s our way in,” I said.
“What?” the lieutenant said.
“We can override the timing on the doors. Do we have systems access?”
“Of course. We have full access to surveillance, but this guy is smart. He’s rigged the latch of each door with explosive. Windows, too,” the lieutenant replied.
Another setback and improvement. Each time I found myself called out to these situations, they were increasing in complexity. The first time was a shooter with a shotgun, and all he did was take hostages. No fancy tricks or gambits in place. It seemed every time I figured a way to gain entry, the mastermind behind these schemes adapted the plan.
“I assume we can’t move the cameras either. We tried with number six. Number seven, we were locked out,” I said.
“We have one camera we can move. Either overlooked, or hardwired outside the main system. Main lobby,” the deputy said.
She pressed some more buttons and brought up the live feed. I slid my finger along the track pad to test and sure enough, the camera panned when I gave my input. I smiled, knowing I could use this to my advantage. Then my phone rang. There was no number, but I still answered. I had a feeling I was expected to take this call.
“Hello, Detective. Do you know who I am?” a distorted voice said.
“Maybe you should refresh my memory. Maybe start by telling me your real name,” I said.
“Nice try, but it is not so easy to fool me. You know who I am. For years, you have hunted me. Craved my blood, because I am always two steps ahead of you,” the voice said.
“Don’t flatter yourself too much. I hear an ego is bad for the brain. Causes us to make mistakes.”
“Oh, the little camera stunt? Like candy from a baby. I thought I would give you a little hope. See, it is no fun to play when the prey loses all the time,” the voice said.
As we spoke, I had my team working on tracing the phone call. I was determined to find who was behind these attacks at all costs. It was harder than usual, though this was expected. I knew my adversary was gifted when it came to technology. All I had to do was hold the line.
“What’s this all about? What vendetta are you carrying?” I asked.
“Must we debase everything down to a vendetta, Detective? Is it not fine for one to sow the seeds of chaos amongst the populace for the fun? This is a sport to me. A way to have fun. Tell me, Detective, how is your wife?”
“You know nothing of my family,” I was quick to retort.
“Another lie. See, your wife tells me you value your work higher than your relationship with her. It took a lot to get her to speak, but an aluminium bat can be quite persuasive, do you agree?”
“And therein lies the truth. You aren’t the one I’m after, are you? Perhaps you’re a jealous or jilted ex-lover. A wannabe casanova. Who put you up to this?” I said.
“Oh, Detective, you wound me. Your assumptions fail to capture the gravitas of the situation. And your trace will not find anything. You tried this last time we called, remember? Oh, how I miss the safehouse you drove me out of. My best work was there, you know. Look closer at your hostages. I will wait whilst you do,” the voice said.
I signalled for some binoculars and peered between the bars of the bank window. Amongst the crowd of hostages was a familiar face. My wife. And standing over her was the balaclava clad man with a shotgun. He held a phone to his ear.
“You son of a bitch,” I said.
“See, Detective, you have no chance to outwit me. I am superior to you in every way. You were top of your class, and I was top of mine. I hoped you would have understood by now. You know who I am, and this is no game. You have no way in, and I have contingencies upon contingencies. But our time is coming to an end, you see. If you make any move, I will pull this trigger. You know my demands, Detective.”
“And none of those demands will come true. I don’t negotiate well with terrorists. Perhaps we should finish this man to man. If you aren’t a coward,” I hissed.
“Look again, Detective. I have something you should know,” the voice said.
I looked back through the binoculars at the masked figure. Something about his body shape seemed familiar and he reached up. In a swift movement, he ripped the mask off his face. I dropped the binoculars, but I still saw the laughing visage as clear as day.
I jolted awake in the padded, white cell with a loud scream. I reached around me with shaky hands and erratic movements. I had to recentre myself. How did I get here, and why was I here?
“Medication time!”
I supposed I could answer those questions after some good drugs.
Fenrir's Lair 