NOW
Fairfax Keel, Minister of Defense, glanced at his watch for what must have been the eighth time he had entered the building. His gaze drifted away from his wrist, and to the little screen in the corner of the elevator car that told him exactly what floor he was on - currently stuck at 59. He then turned to the little domed device in the exact opposite corner, bringing out the most serious scowl he could manage, and held it there.
I don’t have fucking time for this.
He was about to turn away when the lift shuddered, and began to ascend again. Keel sighed and watched as the 59 turned into a letter P, and the doors slid open. Gingerly, he put one foot out onto the varnished wood floor, and then the other, finding himself in between two paintings that adorned the white walls: one was abstract art that lacked any form of useful meaning, while the other seemed to be of a crowd of people surrounding a gallows, the body still mid-fall.
“Wait, wait, wait!” came a voice from beyond where the corridor connected to the rest of the penthouse. “I’m spinning again! Dammit!”
Keel fought the urge to groan, and made his way down to the living space. “Why the hell did it take so long to approve my floor request?” he asked, walking around another painting he was convinced was also stolen, and-
Suspended from the ceiling, trapped in layers of heavy-duty cables, was a bound man, his long, brown hair draped over most of his face. By some action - he presumed idiocy - his body had clearly gained a small amount of momentum, resulting in his entire predicament revolving around the swivel end of the carabiner that held him up. As he slowly drifted back around, Keel grabbed him by the shoulder to stop the spinning.
“Oh, thanks, I was-” The man scowled, and blew the hair out of his eyes, which widened as soon as they saw who it was. “Oh, hey! Callahan said you’d be coming.”
“Where’s everyone?”
The man shrugged. “I tried asking but they said it was none of my business.”
Hurried footsteps made Keel turn around, to see a meek woman in a scruffy suit standing there, clutching a tablet. “M-Minister Keel! We didn’t know you’d be here so early!”
“Where’s your captain, Agent Rouke?” Keel asked, returning his gaze to the bound man. “I have some questions about art choices.”
“There was another sighting on the border, so they took the glider to check it out.” Her eyes darted from Keel to the man, and then back again. “Is…everything satisfactory sir?”
He pointed at the man. “What’s this?”
“That’s Mr. Walker! Lucas Walker, like you requested. You told us to get him before he got back to the pub, correct?”
“I know who he is. What I’m asking is why is he trussed up like a damn turkey instead of being in your holding cell?”
“Uh…” Rouke seemed to shrink even further from him. “I was…practicing ways to secure targets?”
Keel sighed heavily. “You have the data?”
She held out the tablet. “All in here. The disruption was caught on satellite and flagged almost immediately.”
He took a glance at the screen, skimming over the series of images she was presenting. “Callahan told me it didn’t show much.”
“It was an exophysical disruption.”
“That I can see. Go put this up in the meeting room. I’ll need to sit down and take a proper look before I send it to…doesn’t matter.”
Rouke scurried off to where she had come from, probably more than happy that Keel had his priorities straight.
Hair brushed against his hand, and he looked down to see Lucas smiling at him. “Where the hell do you find all the personality disorders to staff these taskforces?”
“Says the captured one.”
“I’m serious. It’s like that’s a requirement at this point. My team never had this many cuckoos on it, but that was before your time. What gives?”
“They work, don’t they?”
“You would know, wouldn’t you?”
Keel made a face, and took a step away, only leaving an index finger on Lucas’ shoulder. “Your company these days isn’t much better. Mercenaries and common criminals.”
“You’re starting to sound like the Marshal. Wait, he’s under you, right? Can’t you make that dick go away? He brings my sales do-” Lucas finally realised what Keel was in a position to do, and swallowed. “Wait, wait! Don’t do it!”
“Maybe I do know.” As he took another step away, Keel pushed hard to the side, causing Lucas to begin spinning again.
“No! Oh fuck!” he shouted as he started doing rounds, courtesy of the low-friction swivel. It looked like he was trying to keep his eyes shut. “The sedative makes me queasy, please!”
Keel ignored him, ducking through the door into a darkened room and taking his place at the head of the meeting table. He took the spectacles from the pocket of his blazer, and slid them on.
Rouke stared at him from the other end, where the projected image of the map on the tablet was now magnified and much clearer to him. “Signals couldn’t go in or out. It was a dome, with the centre here.” She pointed at a dot on one of the photos that was absent of a large white circle.
“What’s there?”
“Not very clear.” She tapped on a remote to bring up another photo, this time of what looked like a fissure in the side of a cliff face, filled with rocks. Beside the open were scratch marks, clearly in some patterns, though he didn’t recognise them. “It’s going to take some time to excavate.”
“And Barrett?”
“He did write a report, but…you know how he is.”
Keel nodded. “Did Wyland at least pick up the slack?”
“He said he was still writing the report, last I checked. He doesn’t have the full story anyway. None of them do.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me.” He glanced at the door, momentarily listening to the obscenities being yelled by Lucas. “Since you strung him up I suppose it should be easy for you to get him down?”
“I…didn’t…”
Keel glared at her.
“...yeah I can get him down,” she said, defeated.
“Good. Because I have to write a report too, to the Chancellery, and I’d rather everyone else not have to read too many details.”
She nodded meekly.
“Go cut him down.” He brought out his mobile phone and snapped a picture of the image on the big screen, as Rouke inched out of the room behind him. He tapped open a messaging window and shot the photo across.
Personality disorders indeed. He pocketed his phone, and flinched as he heard Lucas crashing down onto the floor outside. Muttering curses to himself, he took a deep breath and straightened his jacket. “Mr. Walker,” he called out before he even got out the door.
Lucas, struggling with the ropes that Rouke was trying to undo on the floor, looked up. “Oh god what now?”
Keel let himself fall into one of the armchairs that was arranged around the living room, the balcony of the penthouse and the sunlight that came in through the floor-to-ceiling windows to his back. “The storm, the bodies…from the start. I want to know everything you saw.”
Lucas sighed. “That’s why you kidnapped me? Couldn’t you just come to the pub like every normal human being ever?”
“I don’t have time for this, Mr. Walker. Some very powerful people are very concerned with what’s been happening in the last couple of days. I can’t take the chance of you stalling me like with the Marshal. The UHE might not have jurisdiction at your place but that means we can’t stop them either. So I’m here to get an answer.”
There was a flash of realisation in his eyes. “You’re kidding me...is this about the banker?”
“And the others, which you might not have identified.”
Lucas finally got free of his bindings, and sat up, his hair a mess. “From the start?”
Keel crossed one leg over the other. “Yes please, from the very start.”
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