Chapter 17

Pov Calla

Fuck this! A fucking eviction notice!

It’s been two days since the operation ‘myveryownarmory’ and I was so excited to get the first letter of my life. And it turns out to be an eviction notice.

Turns out, Theo wasn’t too keen on paying his taxes and loan, so now the bank is doing some ‘foreclosure’ whatever that means. But if I were to believe the letter I got, it means that I have one month to leave the apartment with all my stuff.

I did have the option of paying rent to them, instead of Theo. But they wouldn’t accept cash, and wanted something called insurance. The letter also mentioned that they have to check my credit score, whatever that is, and in order to do that they need my social security number, whatever that is.

And just when I thought I can stop paying rent for good if I stay here.

I’m pissed.

During these two days I haven’t done much. I’ve been spending my time to check my new weaponry and to get familiar with the models I haven’t seen before. And also I’ve been using the internet to teach my self the mechanics of a motorcycle, or more importantly, how to drive one.

I cannot wait for my first cruise!

*Knock Knock Knock*

Huh? Someone’s at the door?

Yay! My first visitors! I rush to the door wondering who it is but as my steps take me nearer to it, my pace starts to slow.

Who it is indeed? Nobody should have any reason to come knocking at my door. Damn, could it be some Theo’s buddies that have come looking for him, or worst, my armory?

I have organized my weapons on my bed, left to right, the longest ones being on the left. And the pistols are in alphabetical order according to their models next to the bed. I was bored, sue me.

I make sure that none of the weapons are visible from the door. I throw some grenades from the table that is straight ahead from the door to the armchair and make sure the shotgun behind the door isn’t going to fall down when I open it.

I grab my pistol and don’t bother with the suppresser.

*Knock knock knock* They knocked again. What’s their hurry?

“Who is it?” I yell through the door and move closer while keeping my pistol ready.

“MPDC ma’am. Open up”

The what now?

“Empeedeecee?” I ask them for some clarification. Am I supposed to know what that mumble jumble means? And ma’am, do I sound that old?

“The police! Open up!” They answer.

I look through the eyehole and see that there is a man holding a small metallic thingy in the shape of a shield with a dome shaped house and some text carved on it.

Is that supposed to prove their identity? They still could be Theo’s friends looking for Theo or my weapons. And if he really is a cop I think it’s bad too.

The man claiming to be a police is black, with shorthair and small, well-kept beard. He is about 180cm tall so I aim my pistol a little higher behind the door as I open it, just a little.

Pov

detective Anthony Simmons

I just checked the apartment of one of the deceased from the Aryan Nations shootout. There weren’t anything of note in there except a pistol. According to our database he owned the apartment next to his and is renting it.

I decided to ask the tenant few questions about the owner of the apartment and if the tenant has heard or seen anything that might help us with the case. It’s a long shot, but every stone must be turned in order to get to the bottom of this.

A girls or woman’s voice behind the door asked who I am. I think it’s a girl after all, as she didn’t know what MPDC meant.

She sure is taking her sweet time to open up. I heard some rummaging when I first knocked so perhaps she was undressed or something. It’s a school day though, maybe she is skipping class. Well that wouldn’t be a surprise considering the neighborhood we are at.

She carefully opens the door slightly, only for 10 inches.

“What?” She says.

She is about 5 feet, three inches tall, has a blond hair and crystal blue eyes.

And I was right, she wasn’t dressed, and neither is she now. She is wearing black sport bra and briefs from what I can see. But it’s not her underwear that draws my attention. No, what draws my attention is the multitude of what looks to be knife scars, a few gunshot wounds and some burn marks that covers her torso.

She has a faint scar also on her forehead, above her left eye and she has bandages wrapped around her left arm.

“Can I come in?” I ask, cursing in my mind that we didn’t get search permits to the deceased’s property but only for the apartment he lived in.

“No.” She immediately answers.

“Are your parents’ home?” I ask with little hope. I have a feeling that my long shot paid of unexpectedly well.

“No.” She answers once again.

“I’m going to need to see some ID.” I say, hoping she can’t provide it so I can take this investigation forward right here and now.

“Hold on.”

*WHAM*

She practically slams the door to my face!

I wait for a while, thinking what to do if she has ID. I should probably call Joshua and tell him to get me the search warrant and some reinforcements. I’m not about to underestimate my suspect, because that could end badly for me.

I shiver as I remember the scene in the Aryan Nations hideout. Five men shot to death, two men blasted in to goo, and one man who had both gunshot wounds and was in the blast radius. Even during my time undercover with the drug rings I didn’t see something as gruesome as that.

It reminded me of my time in the marine corp.

It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes to get the warrant as it’s still office hours and we have good reason to do it.

The door opens once again and she gives me a Swedish passport. Damn. Sweden belongs to the Visa Waiver Program and she can stay here up to ninety days with it. I need the search warrant after all.

So much red tape. Bureaucracy will be the end of us all.

“So, Erica..” I plan to question her about her previous landlord but something feels wrong, so I pause for a bit as I hand her her passport back.

“Huh, who?” She says

“…”

She doesn’t even know the name on the passport…

“You, according to your passport.” I say while raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, oh yes. That’s me. Erica. hehe.” She says as she nervously laughs and with her right hand she opens the passport and checks the name before continuing.

“Erica Grahn. Yep.”

I can feel the vein about to burst on my forehead right about now. And the worst thing is I still can’t arrest her or legally search the apartment as I don’t have any proof this is the same girl from the security footage.

I almost involuntarily take a small step towards her door as I want to take her in custody but as I move my right leg one inch forward…

*click*

…I hear something that sounds awfully like a pistol’s hammer being pulled to the loaded position from behind the door.

*gulp*

I swallow.

We are directly looking at each other’s eyes. She doesn’t say it but I get the feeling that if I move any closer she will redecorate the wall behind me with me.

Now I know what the feeling of wrongness I felt was. It’s her left arm that has the bandage on. It has been raised in an unnatural angle and hidden behind the door the whole time, even before she brought me ‘her’ passport.

“I think that is all for now. We’ll be in touch.” I say to her when backing away from the door. I need to call Joshua right away.

Pov Calla

I think that went well. I doubt he suspected anything. After all I have been getting better with small talk and social situations, not to mention I’m the master of disguise. I can rest at ease, but just to be on the safe side I press my ear against the door and listen.

I filter out every other noise, except the steps of the police man that is heading for the stairs of the building. Alleged policeman.

I zone out the talking of my neighbors, the music that is playing in the apartment above mine. The trucks that are driving on the street, the barking dog from the courtyard and the weird bubbly noise that comes from downstairs always followed by an earthy smell.

“…I found her. Get the search permit for Theodore’s property and send reinforcements…. All of them… be quick… when you come, don’t use the sirens, no need to alarm her…”

Well fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

I really thought I was getting better.

It seems my eviction just got hastened. I think I have ten minutes at most to make myself scarce.

I quickly put on the dark gray capris, the white t-shirt and my light beige parka. I once again hide my hair in my ‘boy cap for women’. Still as illogical as ever. And I wear my round sunglasses.

I start by grabbing my weaponry and stuffing it into my duffel bag. I pull the bed out and grab the backbag that has my money along with the ID’s and spare phones. The bagback opens by accident and some of the stuff drops out.

I quickly grab the money and the three phones. And stuff it back to the bag. I grab the ID’s that fit my age, as there are only two of them, and don’t bother fishing the rest of the ID’s from under the bed.

I put the backbag on and throw the shoulder back in to the duffel bag with my pad and the trackers I recovered from the bikes.

I think I have everything now.

Oh right. I grab my clothes that I used in my operations and put them to the duffel bag also.

Just one more thing and I’m ready to go.

I heard that the ‘police’ man’s steps stopped when he got down the stairs so I suspect he is waiting there for the reinforcements. That means I can’t get out through the front, nor the back door.

I run to the fridge and take my chocolate bars and stuff them to my pockets. It has already been about five minutes.

I grab my blanket and tie its other end to the duffel bag. I open the window and start lowering it to the courtyard.

Few heads turn to my direction but they belong to the sick happy persons so I don’t really care.

As the bag is only a little more than a meter above ground I drop it and jump after it. I don’t waste time climbing this time, so I just fall down. It hurts, but nothing I can’t take and the drop doesn’t break anything.

With quick steps, I get to the road and start walking. It seems that the ‘police’ man has yet to notice my perfect escape. I look behind me at the dirty street and see that a dozen police cars heads for my apartment.

I guess he wasn’t lying about being a cop.

They all drive to the courtyard and gets out of the cars. I turn my head forward, not daring to stare at them. But I listen. I listen as the door is opened and they get inside while some of them stay on the yard.

As I walk the shabby street filled with trash and sickly people I hear the faint sound of a door kicked in. Now they have probably noticed my great escape so I should make haste.

I have a plan.

I use the same route I used when I completed operation ‘Ireallywanteda.50calbutgotstuckwith.308cal’ but this time I will walk the metro’s maintenance tunnel towards the center of the city.

I have a secondary location in mind. It’s the abandoned office building, that’s opposite of the safehouse I intend to stalk. I was going to use it as only a hiding place when preparing for the operation but now I will use it as a hideout.

It will become my new base of operations.

I come to a T-junction, about fifty meters away from my apartment building. The crossing street is the same kind of a shabby and dirty street like this one. It’s lined with similar rundown apartment buildings like mine but there are more people on this one.

Some of them look sickly, some of them don’t. They stand on the sidewalks while talking and laughing. They do not pay much attention to me.

I once again turn to look around and get startled as I see the police have already come back outside. The black policeman that came to my door is looking at the street to both ways.

I think he spotted me as he points at me and the uniformed policemen start running.

Damn.

But if there is one thing I have learned is that people like money. I don’t know if I can bribe the police, but I do know I can cause a distraction.

I grab a handful of bills from my bag and throw them upwards. The people on the street gasp as they notice what I did and the sickly looking persons rush to the money, obstructing the view of the policemen. This is what I hoped for. That they don’t see which way I turn.

I start running to the left but a group of the healthier people that was watching the situation seems to be blocking my way.

I anticipated this would happen. People like money after all. I remember the scene in Paris when the two Frenchmen robbed the couple just before I robbed them.

As I run towards them they seem confused. I guess they expected me to turn around or stop and look scared.

It’s hard to run with the duffel bag in tow but I have no choice, I’m not about to abandon the armory I worked so hard to gather.

With my left hand I support the weight of the duffel bag and with my right I take the pistol that is tucked away in my pants.

*BAM*

I shoot near the legs of the group who is trying to block me. They get the message as I point the gun to them, and the people busy collecting the money starts to panic by the sound of the shot.

The group that was obstructing me makes way, as I walk by them, still aiming towards them.

I don’t see the police yet from behind the panicking people but they can’t be far. I run for a few dozen of meters before turning to an alley on the right.

I run through the dark alley surrounded by concrete walls filled with graffiti. I come to the backyard of some big building that’s purpose remains unknown to me and keep heading straight. My destination is only a few blocks away.

I keep to the alleys, avoiding the roads. Every now and then I see a police car and I have to hide behind some dumpster or a corner.

After what feels like an eternity of dodging and running I arrive at the manhole cover I used few days ago and open it with great effort. The cover is heavy but I have done it once, I can do it again. The hardest part is getting a good grip but I manage fine with the help of my knife.

It’s difficult to descend the stairs with the duffel bag but I don’t want to drop it. As I’m at the bottom I start walking towards the center of the city.

While walking in the narrow maintenance corridor with pipes and cables running above me, I think. Now one of the policemen knows what I look like. Should I kill him?

I remember my trainers telling me that if I kill policemen during ops I should leave the city as the department tends to take it personally and use all its resources to hunt down the assailant.

I’m confident that I could hide from them but it complicates things as I still have things to do in this city.

And I have a feeling Linda wouldn’t approve me killing cops.

I think I avoid it as long as it’s possible.

But now I really think that I should be more prepared in the future for things like this. The police use surveillance cameras so I think I could do the same in my new base. Just have to find a place that sells them.

I’m pretty good at circumventing different kinds of security systems but this will be my first time building one. It could be fun.

Pov

detective Anthony Simmons

“Shit!” I cannot help but to yell.

We were so close but we lost her.

After she threw money to the air we lost visual. Some of the local gangbangers she threatened pointed us the direction she ran but we couldn’t find any sign of her. Our squad cars started canvasing the area but she avoided them perfectly.

We even created checkpoints and roadblocks but it’s like she vanished into thin air. The patrolmen are still trying to look for her as we still keep the perimeter up on the off chance she hid somewhere rather than ran. They are going door to door at this point but I think she already got out.

I’m with my partner in her apartment looking to find anything to point us where she would be headed.

“Look at this.” My partner says as he lifts a pistol from between the seat cushions.

“She left in a hurry but I’m still amazed how well she managed to grab her stuff.” I muse out loud.

Well she probably didn’t have much stuff to begin with.

I notice how the bed is slightly sideways. I pull the bed away from the wall and notice that there is a cut to its side. I try with my hand but it doesn’t seem there is anything in the stash. I see something on the floor under the bed and crouch down.

There are three ID’s under the bed, two belonging to males and one of an older woman. But in each of the ID’s there isn’t a picture. It’s left blank. Her ID was probably the same way before she glued the photo to it in which she looks like a condemned serial killer.

Though that description could be accurate. I really don’t know enough about her as of yet.

“Who on earth is she?” Joshua says, probably just thinking out loud.

“I have no idea. Her face looked pretty normal aside for the faint scar on her forehead but hear body was filled with scars.”

“We should but an APB out. We don’t have a picture but at least we managed to burn one of her aliases.” Joshua says.

He is right that we burned one of her aliases but I highly doubt she will use it again. And we will have some kind of picture after I have a sat down with a sketch artist.

“So let’s go over it again. She rented an apartment here eleven days ago according to the neighbor. The neighbors barely ever saw the girl. Just a few times when she went out. And let’s be honest, we can’t get any reliable eyewitness reports in this part of town. It’s mostly gangbangers, dealers and junkies. Then she plans and executes an ambush to some unknown men in the park, killing five of them. We don’t know if there were more.” I voice what we know about her and Joshua continues from there:

“Right. In the night of the same day she executes the ambush she attack the Aryan Nations, which just so happens, that one of their members is the owner of her apartment. She kills all the members who are at least present in the hide out and steals some of their weapons.”

“I think the Aryan Nations just happened to be close when she wanted weapons. Or they did something to her that made her angry. But after raiding their hideout one could believe that she would leave the apartment so why didn’t she?” I interrupt him.

“Perhaps she was going to but something stopped her.” Joshua says.

That is possible but what could have stopped her leaving. I think It’s not as simple as that.

“But the real question is who the men she ambushed are. We didn’t get anything from the phone that the deceased in the park was holding. She used that phone to make the ambush I think. There were only two numbers on the phone, both of them are no longer usable.” I say.

“According to the tech guys the phone’s serial number showed that it was bought in Paris. Nothing else can be found from it.” Joshua finishes.

This would all be more believable if she were older but she is just a young girl, fifteen or sixteen maybe. That young girl killed thirteen people in the span of a day. She escaped both crime scenes undetected and vanished from us just when we tried to catch her.

“Let’s have the forensics check this place out. I’ll go to the station to have her picture sketched but you know how those are.” I say to Joshua while starting to move out.

“Yeah. I don’t remember a single instance when we have caught a suspect using those.” He answers and starts dialing his phone, calling to the forensics team.

I hate chasing underage kids down, and none of them have ever proved to be this elusive and effective before.

Pov Linda

My plane lands in an hour to DC. Brian has kept me updated about the police investigation as it goes so I know that Calla is on the run. They apparently found her apartment and she ran, but I don’t know anything else as of yet, because they haven’t added the files to their database yet.

We will probably contact the local authorities for cooperation as United States belongs to the countries that founded the J.A.T.F. we have some pull over there, but I still would like to keep this in house.

Brian is still in charge of the investigation and general Raven hasn’t shown any great interest to it, aside from the normal reports we have to make for him.

Although Brian is in charge, he respects my wishes on how to proceed. I will contact the police department and ask to be included in the investigation. The investigation will most likely remain under their jurisdiction, and as long I don’t make noise about it, the C.I.A. shouldn’t show much interest in it.

I will help with the search where I can but I will also try to hinder it if I see it as necessary. I don’t know if they are pursuing Calla as a murderer or an operator but I will not let her go to jail. It’s not like a prison could even hold her.

Our goal is to bring Calla back to the Omega quietly and help her figure out who her true enemies are. I suspect that her goals align with ours since we investigated Al-Aman before and tried to figure out if there’s something more to it. At least I think she is going after them.

The organization behind it could be one of the sources of unrest over the world and the increasing conflicts the terrorist organization are causing.

Every year we manage to wipe one or two organizations down but they keep forming new ones. It does feel like somebody is trying to start something big, using them as puppets.

Pov Calla

After I got to the tunnel I didn’t have any more problems. At some point they are going to figure out that I used them as an escape and start monitoring them more closely.

I walk the street of the safehouse.

There are ten to fifteen storey buildings on both sides of the road, mostly for residential use but there are some offices on the lower levels.

The street has a new asphalt pavement and the area is nothing like the one around my previous apartment. The street is well lit and there are no gaps between the buildings so there are no dark alleys to hide.

I have already walked this street many times so I know the positions of the three security cameras that the lower level offices have that point towards the street.

The buildings have balconies and large windows. The building I’m headed is a twelve storey building with only offices. That is the only building on this street that isn’t that well-kept, but it isn’t too shabby either to stick out.

There is a notice on its door that it’s scheduled for renovations in 20XX, that’s two years from now so it gives me plenty of time to finish my business in here. The whole building is abandoned offices and empty corridors from the looks of it.

Opposite of that building is the address of the safehouse, the reason why I’m in this country in the first place. I will not try to break in until I have monitored it for long enough.

This is the capital of the United States, so it could be very well used in secret meetings or such. I call it a safehouse but it’s actually just a big apartment on the eleventh floor. I have not yet seen its interior but I’m sure there will be a good vantage point in the offices.

The police is surely looking for me now so I intent to lay low for a while and just watch the safehouse.

When I first checked the address I did a walk by. I entered the building and walked once by its door. Although subtle, the door for reinforced and it had electronic lock. I cannot pick that without the prober equipment, which I don’t have.

I also want to plant a bug in it, which also I don’t have, so I need to find some place to get the right equipment. This would be so much easier if I had the help of some tech expert but alas, I’m alone.

So for the next days I will be making some sort of security system for my new base, trying to secure the right equipment to get inside the safehouse undetected and leave the same way after planting a bug, then it’s just surveillance.

I’ll use the time I have in hand to get more familiar with computers and electronics, and to see if I can find myself some mode of transportation. And the .50cal if I happen to come across one.