Ozark Mountains

The Cabin

It was not a nightmare that woke up Elizabeth this time, it was the rhythmical beat of Michael’s heart. Her head was resting on his chest, riding the waves of his breathing. She was facing the window and could see outside; the distant light of countless stars created a tapestry in the sky. That light had traveled millions of years, a statement of immeasurable distances and the staggering vastness of outer space. That space called out to him… that is where he wanted to go.

Being a city girl, she rarely caught the sight of the sky filled with stars since light pollution in the city made that almost impossible. Here, away from everybody, it was an extraordinary sight.

Her life had made so many sharp turns in such a short time; not so long ago, she was only focused on exacting revenge, before dying. Now, the world was filled with infinite possibilities, and it was all thanks to this man beside her. She had a renewed purpose in her life, combined with the deep-seated drive to make his plans into reality.

Last night she had finally decided to make the first move, and a few drinks helped to strengthen her resolve. If she had waited for Michael to do something, it would be some time before anything happened; he was always so busy, planning and doing things, that he left almost no room for his personal life. That was one of the reasons she found him so attractive, that fervent drive of his.

It was surprising even to her, how much she believed in him. Even when locked up inside that cell with her sister, she did not lose hope that Michael would come to save them. That idiot Basim boasted in front of her cell, how they would be punished for the deaths of his men. He told her they would end up in one of the Albanian gang’s whorehouses, to serve the customers until their bodies were used up and riddled with diseases. Even then, she was not frightened one bit.

When Michael finally arrived, her heart was so full of joy, she actually kissed him. Being so impulsive was a new and liberating experience for her.

It was still too early to get out of bed, and she wanted Michael to have as much sleep as he could.

That metronome beat of his heart was so soothing, making her drift back to sleep again.

***

Michael woke up early, he couldn’t really sleep for long with so many things going through his mind… the plans for the future were even haunting his dreams.

He carefully got out of bed and quietly sneaked out of the room, trying not to wake up Elizabeth, who was so peacefully sleeping.

After brewing and enjoying a fresh cup of coffee, he decided it was time for the rest of his guests to wake up, and there was a certain way to achieve that without making any noise.

Cooking always made him feel calm, the repetitive actions were a sort of meditation. He remembered that there was a time when he would have trouble frying an egg, but after spending a month in an Army kitchen, punishment for something he did not even remember anymore, he learned to appreciate it. It was a very useful skill for a bachelor to have, especially since his last girlfriend thought that cooking meant picking up the phone and ordering food.

The smell of bacon, pancakes, and eggs was like a siren’s call to everyone inside. One by one they all appeared, acting as bloodhounds on a trail towards their prey.

Michael was wondering if it was the upgrades or regular hunger that made them eat every single morsel of food he put on the table. By the time they were finished, the dishes appeared as if they were already washed. If he continued to feed them regularly, they would eat him out of the house.

It was quite disturbing seeing Tyron giving him that hungry puppy expression, just to get that last piece of bacon. On the other side, Al was licking his plate clean.

Even Max had joined them, eating the same things they were, except his plate and food were holographic. He explained that he was trying to emulate the texture and the taste of the food, and was in fact very close to how he remembered it.

“I’m heading out, after one more cup of coffee, there are some people I need to talk to,” Jack said while pushing his empty plate, and rubbing his full stomach.

“Okay, Max, make sure that one transporter is at Jack’s disposal and make arrangements for car rentals close to the places he needs to go to. Landing a flying saucer in people’s backyards can be a little awkward.”

“The transporter 002 is ready to go, it will be outside in a few minutes.”

Jack looked at them with raised eyebrows, “well, that will be different.”

“It can get you much faster where you need to go, and there is no reason not to use it. I can assign it permanently to you since the third one is almost finished,” Max said to Jack.

They all watched as Jack climbed into a transporter a few minutes later. He waved at them before the door closed and the silent aircraft levitated for a second before it started up and disappeared from their view.

“Michael, you should transfer all the gold and money into your pickup, it needs to be delivered to the armored truck in a few hours, I will supply the coordinates,” Max said.

“All right… Tyron, take Pete and Al for the delivery. I will help you load it up.”

Packing everything into an SUV was not an easy task, not because of the extreme weight of the gold, but owing to the fact that money was so bulky. They had to use the first transporter to transfer it from the access shaft to the cabin, and then they packed it all into the pickup.

After the guys left, Michael grabbed a beer and sat on the porch, waiting for his father to arrive.

Fifteen minutes later, his old man parked in front of the cabin; Michael could see him coming from a few miles away by using satellite surveillance he accessed on his CEI.

“Hey, son, how have you been?” The older man asked as he exited the car. He looked so much better than the last time Michael saw him. His skin has lost that pallid and tired looking shade, and there was a far more energetic spring in his step.

“Just fine dad, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Michael answered while patting his father on the back.

Elizabeth exited the house; bright rays of the morning sun making her look radiant.

“Dad, this is my girlfriend, Elizabeth.”

“I’m so glad to meet you, Mr. Freeman, your son has told me so much about you,” she said and shook his hand.

“Please call me Robert. Well, he didn’t tell me anything about you, and seeing you I can understand why. You’re quite beautiful my dear.”

“Thank you, Mr. F… Robert,” she smiled and blushed.

Anna and Alice also came out to meet Michael’s father, and they all stayed on the porch for a while, getting to know each other. Knowing what he was about to tell him they excused themselves and left them alone.

“I’ve been feeling much better lately, it’s very strange.” Robert Freeman said, looking at the beautiful valley.

“I knew you would and I can explain why.” Michael looked into his father's eyes and saw the confusion in them. “But first, I need you to take a walk through the woods with me, there is something there I want you to see.”

Still confused, but willing to trust his son, his father followed Michael all the way to the ship’s entrance. On the way, Michael told him the full story. From the moment he fell down the entrance shaft, all the way to the various upgrades they all received.

Robert Freeman did not say much, as Michael expected. He was an empirical man and without seeing any solid proof, it would be hard for him to completely believe anything.

“There was one strange thing about our last encounter. I did not notice at the time, but something kept bugging me… your limp, it is gone.”

“Yeah, that’s just one of the benefits of the AutoDoc, it heals all wounds. Dad… it can also remove your tumor.”

His father noncommittally nodded, still not convinced.

All that changed, once they lowered themselves through the entrance shaft, and stood inside the ship.

“This is amazing, and part of me is wondering if I’m dreaming,” the older man said, touching the walls with his hand as if making sure that he wasn’t hallucinating.

“It’s real, Dad.”

His father stood in the main cabin; his face full of wonder.

“And your AI… Max?”

“Well, he’s not mine, I consider him his own person. You can talk to him yourself if you want.”

“Max?” His father called, looking upward.

Slowly, not to startle the old man, Max’s hologram materialized in front of them.

“Yes dad, I’m here.”

Robert Freeman stood there, in a state of shock for a moment, but then he composed himself and said, “I guess you’re my son too, aren’t you?”

“I consider you my father, even if I’m not biological anymore, I still have memories of my old life.”

“Isn’t it confusing, I mean you two… being the same?”

“We are not the same, not from the moment we... doubled? I am quite a different person now, but I’d like to think of myself as still being human, a different kind of human, but one nonetheless.”

“Then I guess you’re still my son, the other one… this is getting a little confusing, but I always thought it would be cool to have twins,” he said and laughed at his own joke.

“Dad, you will need the treatment in the AutoDoc, for at least a day. Dealing with a human brain is always a delicate thing, but I assure you, it’s perfectly safe.”

“That's fine, I trust you.”

A little while later Michael watched as his father lay on the AutoDoc platform.

“See you when you wake up,” he said to him.

“See you soon son… sons.”

With that, he smiled at the two people standing in front of the bed, one made of flesh and blood and the other out of photons. Robert Freeman then closed his eyes and fell asleep.

***

Michael was sitting at his old desk making a list of all the possible candidates he could recommend. Even he was surprised by how many people he could vouch for, from all the years in the service.

Tyron and the others had returned from their trip, gold and money were safely transferred to the bank’s armored truck, which was one less thing he needed to worry about. With Max controlling it, their operation should continue to run much smoother.

Max’s presence in his CEI focused his mind on the present. With the new upgrades, it was similar to call waiting, the little icon in the corner of his vision informed him that Max was trying to contact him. It was the same with everyone who had CEI now, and they had great fun playing with this function at first. Nothing spectacular in this age of electronic advancements, but having it directly inside your mind was a bit different, or as Al defined it, “So freaking cool.” Michael mentally clicked the icon, acknowledging the connection.

“We have a situation developing,” Max said without any preamble.

“All right, I’ll bite, how serious is it?”

“Somewhat stable at the moment but with the potential to get really complicated soon. As a matter of precaution, I started keeping tabs on everybody that is connected to you, and those close to you. Using phones, satellites, and cameras available; nothing too intrusive, but quite thorough.”

“I have no problem with that … thanks, I guess.” Michael said, still not sure where Max was going with all this. “What is this all about?”

“Tyron’s brother, Terry.”

Michael remembered the boy as a young and well-behaved kid, doing some quick calculations in his head he realized that the kid wasn’t so little anymore. Whatever it was, he could feel it wouldn’t be good; Tyron was way overprotective when his family was involved.

“Well, it looks like Tyron’s younger brother managed to get himself in deep, deep trouble. Tyron has been sending money to his mother, especially for his brother’s education. Unfortunately, the kid got himself involved with a bad crowd, skipping school and doing a little shoplifting, which is not so unusual for teenagers but this time the events took a really bad turn. One of his new friends is a budding young drug dealer, and he asked Terry to keep his stash for a few days. Being a good friend, he agreed.”

“That’s just asking for trouble,” Michael commented.

“Exactly, the issue is that two days after that he saw a police car parked in front of his house, and got so spooked he flushed the drugs down the toilet. The irony is that the cops were going to his neighbor’s house. He told his friend what happened, and said he was sorry. A little bit naive if you ask me. However, the drugs were not really his friend’s, they belonged to a gang he was a member of. Of course, ‘the friend’ ratted him out immediately.”

“And drug-dealing gangs are not famous for forgive and forget behavior,” Michael said while trying to figure out how to break the news to Tyron.

“It doesn’t really fit with their business plan. Since Terry cannot pay back the value of the drugs, they decided to make an example out of him, with a 9 mm into his head, and it is going down tonight. They plan to hit his house, and as his mother is there, they will kill her too.”

“Max, how did you manage to put all this together?” Michael asked shaking his head.

“The kid has no sense of operational security; by reading his messages you can figure out the broad strokes of the entire chain of events. From his friend's phone, I got the numbers of the rest of the gang members. Do you realize that every phone is basically a listening device? If you got the skills, you can listen to anybody… twenty-four seven.”

“Well, that’s a scary thought. Tell the guys to meet me in the kitchen, we have an operation to plan.”

The planning part was sidetracked by a livid older brother, who had an almost irresistible impulse to go immediately and rip some heads off, and with his increased strength, that was an actual possibility. Regardless, the rest of the team managed to calm him down to a level where he could think logically again.

It was decided that Tyron, Pete, Al, and Michael would go to the gang’s headquarters in civilian clothes, and Alice will act as sniper overwatch in case things go south. Meanwhile, Elizabeth would go to Tyron’s mother’s house and use the family’s car to get her and the young Terry away from the premises.

If the gang leaders were willing to talk, the entire thing would be settled peacefully; in case they decided that was not a possibility… the team was more than happy to oblige.

The first part of the plan went like a charm, Tyron called his mother, and she agreed to take her son and go with Elizabeth. The second part, involving a reasonable and peaceful conversation with a drug-running gang… was a completely different matter.

The house they were using as their headquarters had seen far better days, it was an old two-story brownstone with a chain-link fence in a bad neighborhood. Two teenagers, acting as sentries, were far too obvious and easy to spot, especially if you have your own personal satellite, watching from above. Since the plan didn’t call for creating a bloodbath out of these negotiations, it was far too easy to stealthily approach them and knock them out. Each of the young punks had a gun tucked in his belt, which was promptly confiscated.

As far as these types of operations were concerned, it was a walk in the park. Their way of securing the perimeter was laughable, and two guards at the door were more interested in getting high than watching if someone was approaching; that is the reason why they were going to have one hell of a headache when they eventually regained consciousness.

It seemed that every idiot with a gun thought that with that piece of metal, he was automatically given authority over others. Arguably, it was true to a point; you can scare civilians easily; but if your paths cross with someone with training and skills, then a rude awakening tends to happen.

The loud music from the back of the house told the team that the gang was having a party. As Max explained, the gang's plan for tonight’s attack on Terry needed an alibi. Hence, the party where everyone would testify that the members who were chosen to perform the executions were present. Climbing the fire stairs and finding the main office was too easy. Max’s intel was a game-changer, even before they entered the house a 3-D diagram projected on their HUDs showed them where everybody was.

Michael and the team were armed with concealed handguns, and their new speed ensured that if something were to happen, those weapons would be in their hands within a split second. So they didn’t break down the door, they just opened it and entered.

The people inside didn’t expect four big and unknown man to enter. Make that, one colossally big, scary-looking giant, and three others that were in his shadow. One man was sitting behind a big metal desk and the rest were lounging on an old couch.

Nobody said anything; the room was in complete silence until Al asked, “Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?”

Michael asked himself if Al had any sort of filter or simply said everything that came to his mind in a moment.

“Who the hell are you?” The gang leader snapped at them.

The three guys on the couch were young, barely in their 20s. Their leader was around forty, looking older and a lot meaner. Tattoos covered most of his skin, not even good ones—amateur work. Besides, so many piercings were all over his face, Michael wondered if the guy had developed a magnet phobia yet. On the spot, he decided to call him Pincushion.

As agreed, Tyron would do all the talking since he was personally involved. “It would seem that my family owes you some money, I came to pay it back,” he said and pulled a big wad of bills from his front pocket and tossed it on the table.

“Yeah, and who’s your family?” The Pincushion asked with a mean smirk, while his hands were reaching for the money.

“You should know that, weren’t you preparing to attack my house tonight and kill everybody. I am Terry’s brother.” Tyron said with absolutely no expression on his face.

The Pincushion’s eyes opened wide, looking at Tyron with alarm.

Michael could see one of the three gangbangers moving his hand behind his back. He looked him in the eye, and said one word, “don’t.” That was enough, the young punk returned his hand to its previous position. Uncertainty and fear in his eyes.

It would seem that at that point Pincushion had enough, he got up from his chair with an angry look on his face, trying to look menacing. Well, he should get a gold star for the effort, not that it worked.

“You think you can bust in my house, throw some money, and make everything good between us. You think you can show me disrespect and live to talk about it!” he was working himself into a rage, and by the size of his pupils, he was obviously using his own merchandise.

He went around the table focused on Tyron, his right hand reaching behind his waist.

“After I’m finished with you, I’m going to that house, kill that kid, and rape –” In all likelihood, the Pincushion wanted to say more, but talking became something he was no longer able to do. He was pulling out a gun, presumably to use it on Tyron, which was a mistake. Since his last words had equaled his life expectancy to that of a mayfly.

Using his superior strength, speed, and reflexes, Tyron snatched the gun from Pincushion’s hand and shoved it down his throat.

One of the cardinal rules the team had was to never say anything bad about Tyron’s mother, not even in the form of a joke. Consequences of that could be disproportional, something Al experienced firsthand when he made a joke about her, many years ago. He was found duct-taped in the morning, inside the base commander’s car… naked. At some point during the night, he needed to go to the bathroom… so he did. The base commander was not amused, and Al had to clean the entire car with the toothbrush. In any case, ever since that day, Al referred to Tyron’s mother with the utmost respect. Not to mention that when he visited her home, it was always ma’am this and ma’am that.

Michael surmised that it would always be a mystery how the Pincushion actually died. Was it the fact that the gun barrel entered so far into his mouth, only part of the hand-grip remained outside; the length of that barrel and the angle of insertion ensured it entered his brain. Then again, a human neck was not designed to bend that far back, and the force Tyron used exceeded its bending limits.

Pincushion’s body crumbled to the floor.

Al shook his head and murmured, “He was a Darwin awards contestant if I ever saw one.”

Michael turned towards the three remaining gang members and set his eyes on the one who tried to pull the gun earlier.

“Now Billy, are you ready to make a decision that will decide the path your life is going to take?”

Max has already collected all the information about each gang member. Billy was Pincushion’s deputy, a second in command of their ruthless but amateur operation, and was now running the show, with their leader gone.

“We have no beef with you man, just leave us alone,” the young punk replied in a trembling voice.

Michael nodded. “If you, or any of your friends, so much as look at Terry or his mother on the street. We will come back, and end every one of you. And remember Billy, we are always watching.”

Billy nodded his head, his eyes still glued to the dead body on the floor.

The team exited the room, keeping an eye on three frightened men, there was no reason to be careless now. In a few minutes, they were at the place where Max parked the transporter.

“Max, are you still monitoring them?” Michael asked.

“Yes, I think they’re still in shock.”

“Connect me to all of their cell phones simultaneously, and activate the speakers.”

Max did, and Michael spoke aloud, “Remember Billy, we are always watching. Now dispose of that body and change your line of work, you’ll last longer.” He mentally terminated the connection.

“Boss, that was mean, you’re going to traumatize them,” Al whispered with a false sense of concern.

“And now they’re freaked out, looking at their phones like they are possessed.”

“Keep monitoring them Max, if they want to try something, we should know in advance.”

Alice was already waiting for them inside the transporter, her assistance was not needed this time, but as Pete said, “Better safe than sorry.”

Tyron was left on the roof of the hotel where Elizabeth brought his family; he would try to convince his mother to move into the far better neighborhood. Money was not a problem, and there was a private school where Terry could go. Michael didn’t think there was any more danger from the gang, but there was a slight possibility, and the lives of Tyron’s family were too precious for such a gamble. The big man would stay with them until they decided what to do next and he still had to have a stern conversation with his little brother. As for the rest of the team, they picked up Elizabeth and returned to the cabin, all the while having to listen to excited Al, retelling Tyron’s gun repurposing move.

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Trending list update:

Thanks to you, TSL managed to reach the third place on the trending list, ahead of some very popular stories (with more than 1k followers). And...within an hour it was carpet-bombed with a barrage of 0.5 ratings. I was looking at the statistics at the time, and it was fascinating to watch. As much as a car crash, or a house fire is fascinating... in a weird, macabre way.

Well...what can I do except to laugh it off.

As I said, you keep reading—and I'll keep writing.

Igi

"Mockery and derision have their place. Usually, it's on the far side of the airlock."

Schlock Mercenary maxim.

:)

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