Hunting the Hunter, Part Two
02 Jan 2022Kodeyne
Monfort stepped back, a startled look on his face. Ophelia had just planted a substantial kiss on the detective's lips."I'm not sure what I've done to be worthy of that," he said, "as pleasant as it was..."
She laid a finger on her cheek and assumed an expression of befuddlement.
"Ooh now, let me think...oh yeah, you only went and saved the lives of Alison and me."
"Commander Dixon did all the dirty work," he demurred.
"But if you hadn't told him, Ali and me would be a couple of barbeque bites floating in space right now. Teamwork, Mr. Monfort!"
They were in Monfort's modest office once again. They sat, and he poured out two tumblers of the excellent brandy he favoured.
They clinked glasses, and he sat back in his chair.
"It's good to see you, Commander, but I suspect this isn't just a social call."
"On the button as always, I see." She grinned at him and then her expression grew serious.
"It's Mikael," she said softly , "I need to find him."
Monfort narrowed his eyes. "What's happened? That you can't just contact him?"
She reached into a pocket, produced a datatab, slid it across the table. Monfort carefully picked it up and read that message.
"That is quite disturbing, to say the least...I don't suppose you know what might have happened?"
She took a deep breath and explained her theory. He nodded, eyes thoughtful.
"And I owe it to him to find where he is, and get him help. Or..." She paused, took a shaky breath , "...or end him. If needs be ."
Monfort's expression was sympathetic. "But you would rather not take that route."
She sighed. "No. He means a lot to me, Mr. Monfort. We were lovers, very briefly, but that helped us both to be able to start trusting people again. So whilst we are just friends now, the bond between us is quite profound."
Monfort sipped brandy. Ophelia could almost hear the whirr of his odd, brilliant mind at work.
"Hmm...yes...that might work..." He shook himself and met her gaze.
"Leave it with me, Commander Myshkin. I believe I can see a way to do this."
She raised her glass. "Thank you. And I think we know each other well enough to drop the formalities. Please, call me Ophelia!"
He stared at her. "My word, I'm not sure I can deal with all the surprises you are springing on me today!" He winked.
The room did not seem to contain as much equipment as it had on his last visit. Indeed, Corrosion was coiling up a cable as Monfort entered.
"Good morning to you, Mr. Monfort," said the hacker as he entered.
"And also to you." He looked around. "Calling it a day?"
“Frankly, yes. " Corrosion carefully put the cable in a box and sat down. His left hand had a noticeable tremor to it. "Pulled off a few good scores, got careless, was lucky to get away with my life and a bit of brain damage - hence the palsied hand. I've got enough money for a comfortable retirement, so that's why I'm quitting. But, since it's you, I'm up for one last challenge, as long as there's no serious cyber-intrusion involved."
Monfort nodded. "I'm looking for someone who doesn't really want to be found. So, I speculated, a program that can piggyback into communication transmissions, quietly get into the arrivals and departures records of starports, pry into unencoded messages, looking for certain parameters. And when it finds them, send them back with a location and timestamp report."
Corrosion looked pensive. "Well, there's the challenge, right enough." He grinned. " Yeah, I can do that. You know the results will take a while, of course. Weeks for the program to propagate across the bubble, and that's just on the outwards run... "
Four months, getting on for five. What came back were whispers of a white-eyed demon that single-handedly slaughtered whole settlements without even giving the inhabitants chance to set alarms off. Individuals assassinated by someone who struck from the shadows then vanished in a super-fast ship. Brawls in drinking holes frequented by the lowest of the low - many of whom came out in body bags.
Ophelia read the report that Monfort forwarded to her with a shiver. It painted a picture of a driven, merciless killer. The only connection between the incidents was that all the victims were criminals, or those associated with them.
She disembarked from Big Bad Wolf with more than a little trepidation. A little more face-to-face detective work had narrowed down the search to a Coriolis station in an anarchy system somewhat to the 'south' of the bubble, in a cluster of such lawless places. Alison had insisted on coming along; even if she hadn't, Ophelia wouldn't have brought any ship except this one.
As she prepared to leave, Ali had hugged her tightly and said, "Hey girl, don't leave me all lonesome for too long...”
She finally caught up with him in an ill-lit corridor, allowing her footsteps to clatter and echo down the metal passageway. The hunched figure ahead stopped and turned, swiftly drawing a modded laser pistol, complete with custom paint job.
"Whoever you are. Stay the hell away!"
Ophelia felt a cold stab of fear in her chest. The voice was Mikael's, but the intonation was not. Like he was drugged or drunk. She had told Alison that 'I don't think he could hurt me if he tried,' but now, faced with the reality of whatever he had become, she wasn't so sure.
Slowly, deliberately, stepped forward and stared straight into cold, ice-white eyes. The gun was lowered.
"Mikael. It's me. Ophelia." She swallowed and stood her ground as he took a step towards her.
"Destroying Angel," he said, "it is you!"
"No. It's Ophelia. It's me, Mik. You know me. "
"Destroying Angel," he repeated, "together we can be. Together we can bring justice. We can strike down the filth that people have become. The decievers, criminals, sinners; they must all be punished."
"Mikael. You're ill. Please let me help you."
"As he wanted to help you. But you refused, because you knew it would quench the fire inside."
She swallowed. "Why was she killed? The fighter pilot?"
“How do you know about that? “
“I figured it out. Why? “
"She lied to him."
"About what?"
"She was with child, after saying such a thing would not happen."
Ophelia tried not to retch. "He killed her...for that?"
"He did not kill her. I did. "
"And who, exactly, are you?"
"I am the other. "
"The other...what?"
"I am the other," he repeated. Then with three quick steps, he was right in front of her, fists darting towards her face. She reacted, automatically blocking the incoming blows. Her adrenaline started to rise. His - its - eyes were fixed on hers.
"That's it, " he hissed, "Fight back. Open the darkness inside. Let her out."
She realised her original hypothesis had been correct; he wasn't really trying to hurt her. He was trying to provoke her.
Ophelia gritted her teeth, as his strikes became more rapid. She parried but tried not to attack back.
"Fuck you, whatever you are!" she spat. A crooked grin crossed his face.
“Anger, that's good. Be angry. Let her come. Let the Destroying Angel come forth." He dodged her block and slammed a fist into her ribs.
Pain radiated out, and she gasped as a moment of dizziness caught her by surprise.
"Don't resist...you know this is the path you must take. She wants it. Come to me, Angel!"
Ophelia groaned as the moments of shadow in her mind became more frequent.
Help me. Somebody please help me.
She ducked and landed a kick in his left shin. Any more of this and the Destroying Angel would indeed be unleashed.
And a face swam up in her mind. A solemn, freckled face, pretty and framed by thick black curls.
"Hey girl, don't leave me all lonesome for too long..."
She thought of Alison, waiting and fretting back on the Corvette, and her resolve suddenly became like steel. She seized a fragment of her inner darkness then shoved the rest back where it belonged. Feinted and then sprang up, hitting him in the chest with both feet. He crashed backwards, and she followed up with a kick to the head.
Stood over him and drew her Karma P-15, staring straight down the sights at his forehead.
"Cody..." the voice was weak and quavering - but she knew immediately that it wasn't 'the other'.
"Mik?"
"Help me, Cody. Please."
"Mik...in any way I can..."
He looked up at her. "Pull the trigger, Ophelia."
She hesitated.
"Pull the fucking trigger!"
Remembered Mikael as he had been. A lover. A friend. A saviour.
She let out a sob as her trigger finger relaxed. "I can't."
He convulsed suddenly and collapsed to the floor.
"Then run. Before it comes back." She lowered the pistol.
"RUN! "
She holstered the gun, turned and fled. An inhuman shriek echoed down the corridors behind her. "Aiiiiiinnnnnnngellllllllllll......"
She slowed down as she began to encounter people again, getting her breath under control. Called the ship. "Ali, whatever you're doing, stop. Get everything stowed; we leave as soon as I get on board."
Ophelia’s face was ashen as she embarked. Alison stared and began to speak, only for her hand to be seized and more or less towed to the bridge. Ophelia pointed at the co-pilot’s position and assumed her own seat, swiftly hitting controls. Ali sat, feeling the faint click of magnetic restraints securing her.
They launched and jumped, jumped and jumped, scooping fuel as they went. Only once they had travelled maybe two hundred LY did Ophelia locate the nearest station and dock. As soon as the Corvette was descending into the hanger, she bolted from the bridge. Alison hurried after her. Even so, Ophelia was downing a second glass of whiskey by the time she got to the galley. Before she could pour a third, Ali smartly grabbed the bottle.
“Give me that!“ Ophelia cried, reaching out. Alison stepped back from the table.
“Not until you tell me what happened.”
Haltingly, Ophelia related the encounter with Mikael, finally slamming her fists onto the table.
“And I couldn’t help him – I couldn’t free him – because I’m such a worthless, sentimental cow! “
“Stop that, ‘Lia... “ Alison felt alarm rising, sensing the warning signs. Ophelia smacked her head into the tabletop.
“I’m so useless! I’m the one who should be dead! “
Oh crap, thought Alison. Painfully aware that Ophelia still had a gun on her hip and her knife, Ali thumped the bottle on the countertop and swung round the table, diving at the other woman and tackling her to the floor. The magnetic feet of the chair came away from the deck with the impact and they ended up in a tangle of limbs. Frantically, Alison grabbed the pistol and spun it away. Then she grappled with the distraught Ophelia, locking hands around her chest and pinning her arms. Wrapped her legs around the other's kicking limbs.
They struggled for several minutes; Alison knew Ophelia was stronger than her, but grimly held on.
“Ophelia! Listen to me! “ There was no response. “Ophelia! “ The resistance suddenly went out of the agitated woman, and there was a moment of stillness, punctuated by breathless gasps.
“Listen to me, Ophelia. Are you listening? “
The faintest of nods.
“So you spoke to Mikael? Not the other thing? “
Nod.
“So he is still in there. If you’d shot him, sure, he'd be free. But you would know he was in there and could have been saved, and that would have tortured you for the rest of your life. So you did the right thing. Okay? “
Alison slowly released Ophelia, who flopped across the floor. Muscles shaking, Alison slowly hauled herself up and let out a shuddering breath. Squatted down and heaved the unresisting body to its feet. Manoeuvred them into the cabin and carefully lowered Ophelia onto the bed. Got her out of her clothes, and into pyjamas, rolled her under the duvet and watched as she silently screwed herself into a foetal ball.
Returning to the galley, Ali poured herself a stiff measure of whiskey and tossed it back, before putting the bottle away, straightening the toppled chair and carefully retrieving the pistol.
Exhausted by events, it wasn’t long before she too crawled into the sanctuary of the bed. She could feel Ophelia trembling beside her. Rolling over, she cuddled up and began to sing softly. It was an ancient Gaelic lullaby, passed down through generations of her family. Alison had no idea what the words meant, only that they were beautiful and soothing. Eventually, Ophelia relaxed into sleep and Ali sighed, stroked the blonde hair and let herself drift off too.