Another Abduction

One

Driving casually isn’t easy when your life is on the line. In the rearview mirror, I watched as the cop car rolled to a stop at the parking garage I’d recently left. The dull light from shop windows and streetlights showed members of the Meta-Human Watch Group throwing hands and fingers in my direction. I turned the corner as I yanked off my mask, drove a block, then turned again. My routine was clear in my head. I doubled back a few times and even drove loops around several blocks. Tinkerbelle monitored traffic cameras. There was no trace of a tail as I left Seattle proper.

I cleared the city and found myself in a rural area. The panic of being spotted by the MWG faded like the scent of bleach. There were no signs of the cop car or any other car for that matter. Just a long and empty road.

Pine Lane flashed at me from the next street sign. I was on 100th, so not in my neighborhood.

Tink’s voice flowed in my ear, You’re a little off course for home. You OK?

Yeah, I said with a heavy sigh. I’m coming off the rush of avoiding getting Dosed.

Taking the long way home will lose your tails. She sounded like an informative narrator. I heard the smile interlaced with the words. But then you might end up lost.

My earbud went quiet. The dashboard flickered and my headlights blinked. I kept up basic maintenance of my car so it wasn’t supposed to break down on a mere whim. Then it died.

Tink? My car’s dead. I slammed the gearshift into neutral and my car coasted.

There was no response.

OK. That’s not normal, I said to my steering wheel and slowed to a stop. With a modern car, nearly everything was electronic. My car wasn’t that modern, so it was mostly useless.

The wind gusted as I got out of the car. It carried the stink of some dead animal under my nose. Ugh!

Standing by my car, I glanced around. Trouble usually came in packs, and I wanted to be ready. All I saw were shadows of trees and two houses several blocks away.

I lifted the front end of my car and moved it to the side of the road, then repeated for the rear end. There weren’t any sidewalks here, so into the dampening grass my car went.

I wasn’t that far from home, so I could leap if I had to. Since this was close to the sticks, I wasn’t too worried about someone spotting me.

Just like at the parking garage, my brain said.

Shoving my costume shirt back on and fitting my mask into place, I crouched to jump. It was odd realizing there weren’t any bug or animal noises at that moment.

A shadow darted between a lone streetlight and me, and I halted my jump. The hairs on my neck danced and then stood up. I shifted to a combat stance. My ears strained for any noise. The shadow was off the ground and moving quiet. Too quiet.

Keeping my voice low, I said, Tink? If you can hear this, something is happening, only I don’t know what. I took a step towards the light, tapped my mask and activated my light enhancing lenses.

Turning in a slow circle, I spotted something along the dark wooded area off the road. The shape of it was wide with a thicker center and it tapered off to the sides. It hovered at the height of a basketball hoop twenty yards away.

Gotcha, I growled and kept my eyes focused on my target.

I had no idea what this thing was, but flying around in stealth mode can’t be good.

If this thing could kill my car and Tink’s communications, then it could hurt me. Or cause me some serious trouble. Either way, bad.

Leading with a single running step, I launched into a flat-arc jump. The wind whistled past my ears as I moved through the distance. Rotating my shoulder, I brought a fist down on the object.

It zipped off to the side, letting my swing pass by. I landed on my feet a yard or two away.

The closeness gave me a better view of the thing. It had two swept-back wings attached to an oblong, flat body. There were three glossy circles on the front of the main body and I had to strain to hear the soft hum of the device. Its wingspan would take up the entire back seat of my car. The flat black color let it blend into the shadows and scenery. Without my light enhancements, I wouldn’t have seen it. Even with them, the flying thing appeared as a lighter shadow.

What the hell is that? I asked out loud.

Lunging forward, I grabbed at both wings. I guessed it moved backward because my fingers didn’t dig into it. It was impossible to track.

Scrunching up my eyes and tightening my jaw, I shifted forward and reached again with both hands.

I saw a tiny dot of white on the thing. Next, my entire body tightened, and I went weightless. My eyes were stuck open, and I saw my surroundings fly by me in slow motion, complete with my windmilling arms. I managed to get my chin to my chest before I landed on my back. Waves of dirt, grass and small rocks washed over my shoulders and chest as I plowed through the ground.

A groan pried open my pasty mouth. I opened my eyes to branches and gray, cloudy skies. The grass tickled my ears and cheeks. My whole body hurt.

Get up, Roger!

I scrambled to my feet, knocking dirt and grass from me. Looking around, I found the flying thing. I guessed it was still in the same spot, but the gouge in the grass and dirt made a path to me.

My brain kicked into high gear and assessed what had happened.

This thing killed my car, killed my coms, and had the potential to kill me.

Time to go!

With my car out of commission, I hoofed it out of there. Turning from the flying drone, I took three quick steps, then crouched. I heard the hiss, and a cloud surrounded my head. My vision blurred. I blinked rapidly to keep the tears away. The scent of a skunk mixed with dirty gym sneakers bombarded me. The bile in my throat burned, but I swallowed it down. My eyes watered and I doubled over coughing. With my jump aborted, I stumbled and struggled to keep my feet.

My head pivoted, trying to find the drone. Two twins hovered next to it. This was already bad, now it’s worse.

Wiping my mouth and nose, I looked for something to use as a weapon. These things were fast, so I either needed something faster or something too big for them to avoid.

One of the drones zipped in. I dove and rolled to one side. The zap of its lightning hit the ground where I was standing. The smell of ozone and burning grass made my nose wrinkle.

My body contorted, and I crab-walked to keep all the drones where I could see them. My heel clipped a root. One of my hands darted out to catch myself. Unfortunately, being in fight mode made me break the tree.

Two of the three drones scattered out of the way. The third wasn’t as fast. It took a few limbs to the wings. It went down when a palm-shaped branch connected with the fuselage. With a thick branch on it, the flying device couldn’t move.

Taking advantage of some luck, I galloped forward and came down with a foot. A satisfying crunch met my ears, and I grinned. Yeah! One down, two to go.

The other two dashed for the tops of the trees, u-turned and dove at me from opposite sides. My feet did what they were supposed to do: run.

I’ve seen that Hitchcock movie, and I felt like that blond woman in it when she was being chased by birds.

These things made no noise, so I couldn’t tell how close they were. My foot bit into the road edge, and I felt the asphalt give way. Taking two steps onto the pavement, I turned right and headed down the road.

I stagger-stepped and set to launch.

The searing pain in my neck sent me to the ground. I rolled tail over teakettle to a stop. When I got to my feet, I saw the damage I caused to the road.

In the dim streetlight, I saw one of the drones gaining altitude.

A quick glance showed me the second one approaching from a darker area. Dammit, I spat. Now they’re using tactics, I muttered as a shiver dashed down my spine.

Planting a foot under me, I purposely stumbled and fell to my knees. The high-flying drone changed speed and aimed right for me.

I snaked a hand up and snatched a wing. Continuing with my motion, I backhand-slammed the flying contraption into the hard asphalt. Sparks shone and I squinted behind my mask. The melodic sound of smashing metal and plastic reached my ears. Dark gashes were left in the road as it skipped twice and disappeared into the weeds.

I can pull off tactics, too, I said with a widening smile. Guardian, two. Drones, nothing.

Grabbing two larger pieces of the downed drone, I dashed a few steps in the direction of the lone drone. I chuck first one, then the other missile.

The remaining flying device danced and avoided my attacks. By the time it righted itself, I leaped into the air.

Sshshshshsckscksck…Guardian? Guardian, where are you? Tink’s voice slammed into my ear.

Here. I saw the fading spread of porch lights below me as I descended. Making contact in someone’s backyard, I sprang up again.

What the hell happened? I winced from the loudness of her voice. I can tell when you hang up on me. That was a dead signal.

I don’t know what it was. Reaching the height of my jump, the lights of cars on the interstate blazed like freshly struck match heads.

My car stalled and I couldn’t reach you, I told her the rest on my way home, finishing when I closed and locked my back door.

Drones flying around and attacking people can’t be good, Tinkerbelle said in my ear, her voice softer after my explanation. From your description, it sounds like they could be military grade.

That makes sense, I responded. McChord and Fort Lewis are in the area, plus Whidbey Island, but why would military grade drones be flying through a civilian populace?

That’s the million-dollar question. There was the sound of rapid tapping and she made a humming noise. I’ll get back to you.

The line went dead. If I hadn’t known better, I would say there was a drone outside my window. That was how Tinkerbelle worked. Latch onto a problem and solve it. This particular problem would not reveal answers soon, so she would have to dive deep to find them. She lived for this.

I, on the other hand, needed some food and sleep. With the slow patrols, I actually had time to plan for better meals. Pinching my earbud out, I stepped into my kitchen. In the fridge, I pulled the last of the lasagna and craft beer out for dinner. After wolfing it down, I tossed my uniform into the laundry basket. It could wait until morning; sleep couldn’t.

Two

The next morning my alarm sounded at its normal time. I got up, dressed in my workout clothes, and walked out to my garage. Something looked odd the moment I opened the door. My car wasn’t there. Then it dawned on me.

Dammit! I had left my car at the scene of the attack.

I contemplated swapping out my gym clothes for my costume but changed my mind. Instead, I flung my bag over my shoulder, stepped into my backyard, and jumped. In the pre-dawn hours I didn’t see any headlights for quite some time. When I did, it was just a single car speeding to get somewhere.

I remembered Pine and 100th, so that was my general direction. Maybe it was the cool misting morning air. Or more likely, my routine being thrown into mild chaos but my sense of direction was off. After backtracking twice, I landed close to where I left my car. A quarter mile walk made for a good warm up.

Rolling my eyes over the area, I didn’t see any remains of the two drones. The tree was there, and still horizontal. The hole contrasted with well worn soil around it. Walking on the road, I noted the faded scorch marks and covered over gouges. Whoever, or whatever, had cleaned up did a decent job. If I didn’t know that there were holes and gouges, I might not have seen them. Plus, a normal person would be driving. The clean-up crew hadn’t gotten all of them, but that just added to the effect, in my opinion. Professionals all the way.

My car wasn’t touched, which I hoped was a good sign. Getting in, I squeezed my eyes shut and cranked the key. The engine turned over the first time. As I drove off, my brain buzzed.

Using my left hand, I scanned under the steering column. Next, my fingers went over my door, under my seat, then back to the wheel. I switched hands, and scanned the rest of the dash. There were no unusual bumps, cuts, or anything else.

There could be a tracker on my car, I squeezed through clenched teeth. My head scanned the signs and contours of the road. I checked and re-checked the mirrors. Even my blind spot got extra attention.

Parking at the first park-n-ride I found, I scanned my car. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, which didn’t set my mind at ease. Those drones were high-tech. If there was a tracer, I might not even notice it.

Getting back in the car, I picked up my visual scanning again. In a regular pattern, I checked both blind spots and all mirrors. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so I drove to the gym.

Working out with several hundred pounds is an excellent way of venting your frustrations. Not to mention turning you into a sweaty mess.

After my gym visit, I threw on the news. The top story was that Seattle was a testing ground for new police drones.

If that ain’t a sign, I must be blind.

The news piece stated that Strategic Tactical Operations, Inc. developed the drones. The drones are supposed to aid the police. Fly overhead in high-speed car chases, foot chases, and other types of surveillance activities. Normally, I would take this as a fluff piece. After my encounter last night there wasn’t anything fluffy about those drones.

I snatched my cable box remote. My thumb tapped the record button for the DVR. Next, I grabbed a pad of paper and pen. Taking notes was a way for me to get stuff out of my head and in front of me. I copied several things down. The spokesperson for SPD was Randall Savage, someone I had dealt with in the past. The spokesperson for STO was Tabitha Winters.

Tabitha had old-fashioned good looks. I couldn’t see any signs of make-up. Her eyes were clear and the smile she held was just shy of plastic. She never twitched, fidgeted, or looked down.

A face shot was up on the screen with Tabitha dead center. She answered the questions the news reporter asked. According to Tabby, these things were safe and versatile. The drones are more effective than a beat patrolman. They don’t get tired, can’t be bribed, stay in shape, and their memory is infallible. We project a higher percentage of arrests will stick when the courts prosecute.

Randall flushed beet red and his eyes narrowed as he shook his head. It looked like his cheeks were playing tug-o-war with his lips. He went on to say that the drones would aid the police officers. Their focus was on gathering evidence. This would lead to better arrests and detainment of felons. His statement sounded rehearsed and wooden, but his body movements gave away his true feelings.

Randall’s craggy face had a small trickle of sweat on the side. His eyes kept darting to something off camera and he licked his lips. I noticed the twitch of his shoulders and a hand appeared as he talked. When he wasn’t talking, the pulse of his jaw flexing showed.

Randall finished talking and stepped out of frame. The camera moved to encompass the reporter’s head and shoulders. The reporter jerked his face back to the camera. After an eye blink, he schooled his face. Now back to the studio, Candace.

My earbud made the satisfying quiet ding as I slid it into my ear.

Yeah, I have it up too, Tinkerbelle said. She might have yawned, or sighed.

So you do sleep with it on, I chuckled.

Nope. No sleep. Tink’s voice carried that edge in her tone that she gets on the tougher research challenges. It’s clipped, fast, and direct.

OK. What are you running into? My teeth crunched on some toast and I slurped my coffee.

I’m not sure. A heavy breath sounded in my ear. I found the company’s website. When I access the server, I get stymied. A search for a Tabitha Winters gets a ton of hits. I search for a Tabitha Winters in Seattle, the return is narrowed. When I add Strategic Tactical Operations something odd happens. I get no hits. The search times out, no errors. Regardless of the engine I use. I compiled my own, same thing. Finding the server required a bot searching by IP address. I didn’t find it on the internet server lists. Knocking on that door I am greeted with silence. And don’t forget-

Whoa. Slow down there. This was way over my head. So there is something giving you trouble. Do you think you can overcome this obstacle?

Yeah, she said. I’m already on it. I have a couple of bots working as we speak. I had to-

You got it, I’m sure. Let me know if you need something smashed. I’m good at that. There are a few things I can check on, but they use the archaic method of talking to someone. I’ll let you know what I find.

OK. That works, her voice slowed. Oh, by the way, I have my patches to a point where the let down isn’t so bad. You still crash, but you aren’t incapacitated.

Good. I hope never to use them again.

Tink’s stimulant patches got me out of a heavy predicament. Sort of. I used two a month ago. They helped me force a dragon out of town. Afterwards, I was left paralyzed and at the mercy of a psychopath. Those patches were not high on my list.

I pulled the earbud out of my ear. The spot on the back of my wrist itched. Those things could have killed me, now she’s perfecting them. Good for her, not so good for me.

The train closed its doors behind me and I snagged a handle as it lurch-started for downtown. For some reason, the Gray Fog came to my mind. I teamed up with him when I first started. He taught me the legwork behind an investigation. Even back then, there were easier ways, but his biggest leads came from doing it the old-fashioned way.

I pulled out my cell and searched for a number. Finding it, I sent a text.

Jason, this is Roger. Your dad used to do a lot of legwork. How would he do a background?

It wasn’t long before my phone vibrated.

Roger, you know I’m not allowed to do that kind of work. But you didn’t ask me to. Dad, on the other hand, would get a birth certificate from the records office. Paper, not electronic.

The Gray Fog’s real name was Allen Kensington. He trained a lot of us Meta-Human heroes in the beginning. At least he would show us the value of being sure of our information. He used brains over brawn and was never defeated.

Until he got married and had a son.

Allen poured everything he knew into that kid. Because of that, Jason graduated high school two years early. Jason also completed four years of college in half the