Under a Killing Moon

UAKM — CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Two hours later, I paid the cover charge at the front door of The Land Mine and entered the nightclub. It was still early, and there were only 20 or 30 people in the place. The cavernous dance floor was empty, despite the whirling lights and pounding music. I hoped that I could find my contact soon, before the inevitable headache set in.

I hated the music. It was probably a sign that I was getting old, but then, I’d never liked contemporary music. During my horrid teenage years, techno-rap had been all the rage.

At least most of the currently fashionable music was instrumental, which was a slight improvement. On the downside, it was heavily repetitive and seemed to avoid anything remotely resembling melody. To me, it sounded chaotic, with most of the sounds coming from percussion, and every instrument playing at a different tempo. Over the top of the incessant pounding was a steady stream of sampled and computer-generated sound effects, ranging from bits of feedback to snippets of dialogue.

I made my way to a corner and sat down on a high bar stool behind an elevated table. A bored-looking waitress with a disturbing cool sore took down my order for a tall glass of iced water and walked off without thanking me. I looked around the club and decided that I’d picked the best spot to locate my contact. The bar was on my left and would give me a good look at the faces of everyone who sat there. This was the only section of the club with seating. The other side was dominated by the vast dance floor, which was multilayered, like half an amphitheatre.

I figured that I’d find whoever I was supposed to meet in a booth or at a table like the one I sitting at. I scanned the area methodically, pausing to look closely at every face.

The table next to mine was empty, but the next one was occupied by two young woman.

One was tall and thin, with an unfortunate complexion and a skimpy red outfit that should have been much looser. The other girl was beautiful, but round. She wore a black jacket over a black turtleneck and a long black skirt. She had a lovely smile, and I found myself hoping that she wasn’t there expecting to meet someone special.

Seated at the table behind the two girls was a textbook example of a midlife crisis. The man’s hair weave looked almost real, but his outfit was unbelievable. It looked like he’d culled all his fashion sense from Miami Vice reruns. Under a light blue pinstripe jacket, a fuchsia tee shirt clung to a round belly. He stroked his moustache seductively and glanced provocatively at the two girls. To my chagrin, the girl in black took favourable notice.

Beyond the Don Johnson wanna-be, a young couple groped each other at the table in a dark corner. As they came up for air, I noticed that they had a lot in common. There were both wearing leather jackets, both had multi-coloured hair, and their faces were decorated like Christmas trees with various pins, studs and chains. The two of them had something else in common: breasts. They renewed their attack on each other, and I tried not to think what would happen if their facial jewelry got snagged.

A twenty-something young man with a goatee and glasses with oddly shaped frames sat in a booth next to the amorous couple, obviously intrigued. To his right, another young man sat alone. He seemed nervous, glancing around and running a hand through his short blonde hair.

The other booths and tables were occupied by larger groups of all shapes, sizes, ages and persuasions. The waitress arrived with my water. I sipped it, wondering how long it’d been since I’d drunk a clear beverage, and looked out toward the dance area. Several couples were joined by a scattered handful of accessible-looking exhibitionists. I checked my watch-it was five minutes to ten.

I sat at my table, sipping my free drink for another fifteen minutes. Despite my vigilance, I saw no one who even vaguely resembled the secret-agent persona I had envisioned. I decided to make a reconnaissance of the club. After circling the mammoth dance floor and making quick use of the facilities, I began peering into dark corners, but without success.

I decided to return to my corner table, but it had been homesteaded by three Middle Eastern businessman with varying amounts of facial hair. The sight of them made me think briefly of the man who’d murdered the Colonel, but I dismissed the notion and took a seat at the bar.

As I ordered a few more fingers of water, I caught the face of the young blonde man in the mirror behind the bar. His nervousness seemed to have increased, and he was wringing his hands as he looked around. He certainly didn’t fit my mental picture, but I was coming up empty and really didn’t have anything to lose. I got up from my seat and crossed the room.

As I approached, the young man looked up at me fearfully. I reached the table, stopped, and casually pulled out my pack of Luckies. I held up the pack. “You look like you could use one of these.”

The young man shook his head. “No, thanks. I don’t smoke.”

I shrugged and took one out for myself. “I gave the extra one to David. He seems elated.”

The young man’s eyes widened. I knew I’d found my man, though I felt a distinct twinge of disappointment. This guy wasn’t at all what I’d been expecting. I suppose I’d been anticipating a David Niven-type secret agent, sipping a martini and smoking imported cigarettes. I slid into the booth and set my cigarettes and lighter on the table.

“My name’s Murphy. I’m a friend of the Colonel’s. He couldn’t make it.”

The young man looked at me with a desperate expression his face. “Why? What happened?”

I lowered my voice. “He’s disappeared. Probably dead.”

“Oh my God.” What colour was left in his face drained away. He picked up his glass of beer and emptied it. “Who killed him?”

I flicked the ash off the end of my smoke. “Actually, I was hoping you might be able to shed some light in that area.”

The young man glanced at me nervously. “How should I know? I didn’t even know anything had happened to him.”

“So why was he supposed to meet you here?”

The young man looked at me for a moment, then started to slide out from behind the table. I grabbed his wrist and held it until he moved back. He glared at me. “Get your hand off me.”

I shook my head. “Not until you answer some questions.”

“I don’t need to tell you anything.”

I let go of his wrist, but kept my eyes locked on his.

“You’re right. You don’t… and you don’t have reason to trust me. But I was one of the last people to see the Colonel alive, and I want to find out what happened to him.”

The young man was defiant, but scared. “And how do I know you didn’t kill him?

Maybe you’re here to find out what I know before you kill me.”

He had a good point. I didn’t have anything to convince him of my good intentions except an honest face and a pure heart.

“Tell you what. I just want to know whatever you can tell me about the Colonel. If it’ll make you feel more comfortable, we can agree to meet someplace else. You tell me when and where.”

The young man stared at me for some time before speaking.

“All right. You fill me in on the Colonel, then I’ll tell you what I can.”

I looked down at the ashtray and ground out my cigarette until it quit smoking. “What’s your name?”

The young man hesitated before speaking. “Paul. Paul Dubois.”

It didn’t really matter if that was his real name. I just hated not having a name at my disposal. I proceeded to tell Dubois what I’d heard and seen regarding the Colonel’s disappearance, then went on to tell him how I’d come to be at The Land Mine. I told it as straight as possible. By the time I was finished, Dubois seemed to be buying it. That didn’t surprise me. He looked as though he wanted to find someone he could trust more than anything in the world.

When I was done talking, DuBois sat quietly, digesting what I’d told him. After several minutes, he cleared his throat and turned to me. “You know I work for?”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea. I’m a Taurus, myself.”

Dubois smiled and nodded. “Have you heard what’s happened to our organization?”

“I know about the bombing, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

Dibble shook his head solemnly. “The bombing was just the final blow. CAPRICORN has been effectively destroyed.”

“What do you mean?”

The waitress interrupted us. Dubois ordered another beer, and I asked for bourbon. I figured I could talk young man into buying my drink. When the waitress walked off, Dubois took a deep breath and continued in a quiet voice. “How much you know about CAPRICORN?”

I shrugged. “Not much. From what I understand, you guys do what you can to put hate groups out of business.”

Dubois nodded. “I joined CAPRICORN just over a year ago. I was a reader. My job was to read certain publications and find discriminatory references. Whenever I did, I’d pass the information up the ladder. If the top people felt like it was worth looking into, they’d send out agents to determine whether or not there was a major threat involved. If the discrimination was linked to a certain group or corporation, we’d send an agent to infiltrate. If there was a real problem, CAPRICORN’s goal was to bring down whoever it was, thereby limiting or eliminating their power and influence.”

Dubois paused. I nodded to show I was following him, and he went on. “I was never an agent, but I did move up from my position as a reader. My new job was in resource allocation. It required a security clearance and dealt with prepping agents who’d been assigned to infiltrate organizations. Our department would fix up the agents with everything they’d need, and then we’d receive reports from the agents and pass them along to the higher ups. It was while I was in resource allocation that I first found out what was happening.”

The waitress returned with our drinks. I didn’t even need to ask, as Dubois handed her a ten. I thanked my young friend and took a swallow of bourbon.

“You were saying that something was happening.”

Dubois took a quick sip of beer. “Our agents were being taken out, one by one.

Overnight. Within the space of a month, practically all the reports had quit coming in.

We sent out recons to find out what had happened, and then they started disappearing.

After six weeks, 90 per cent of CAPRICORNs personneI was dead or missing.

CAPRICORN just didn’t operate in the US… it was worldwide. We had thousands of agents, from Moscow to Santiago. Now, as far as we knew, only those of us in the home office were left. There was a meeting the day before the bombing, and everyone who attend was given final orders. I don’t know what kind of orders the others got, but mine were to meet Colonel O’Brien here and get a package from him.

“How was the Colonel involved with CAPRICORN?”

“I’m not sure. He could’ve been on the Supervising Committee. We never knew any of the committee members names.”

“Any idea what was supposed to be in the package?”

Dubois shook his head. “No. And he was going to tell me what to do with the package when he gave it to me.”

I sat back and let Dubois take a drink. So, the Colonel had a package. That would explain what his killer had been looking for. But he hadn’t found it, at least not in the Colonel’s office. And the police hadn’t found anything. Where was it? A thought occurred to me. I pulled the blue index card from my coat and handed it to Dubois. “This mean anything to you?”

DuBois looked the card over carefully, sounding out the letters and numbers silently.

After a minute, he handed it back. “It doesn’t mean anything to me. What is it?”

“Hell if I know. I got it anonymously in the mail. I think it might be related somehow to his disappearance. I figured it might be a code, like the one I broke to find you.”

Dubois shook his head. “CAPRICORN usually kept communications direct. If that wasn’t possible, we’d use messages in newspaper personal ads.”

I nodded and took another sip of bourbon. Another question popped into my head.

“What do you know about something called the Winter Chip?”

Dubois almost choked on his beer. He set the glass down and wiped his mouth. His voice fell to a hoarse whisper. “How do you know about the Winter Chip?”

“The Colonel said something about it on the disc I recovered from his office. I think it was what his attacker was looking for. Maybe the Winter Chip was going to be in the package the Colonel was supposed to deliver.”

Dubois was silent for some time. With some resolve, he turned back to me. “Look, I don’t know that much about all this, but, since you know about the Winter Chip, I’ll tell you what I do know.”

I stuck an unlit cigarette between my lips and motioned for him to continue.

“Some of the most accomplished computer scientists in the world were working on some top secret project for CAPRICORN. I only heard rumours, but apparently they were working on something they called the Winter Chip. I don’t know what it was, or what its purpose was. I can only tell you that it supposedly had something to do with our fight against the Crusade for Genetic Purity. Working in the Resource Allocation department, I knew that we’d sent dozens of agents to infiltrate the crusade. Word was, one of the agents had gotten in early and worked himself into a high position. I don’t know if he was rooted out with the other agents, but my job was to get the package from the Colonel and leave it some place where this undercover agent could pick it up. What he was going to do with it, I don’t know.”

I looked at my cigarette. It had burned halfway down without me taking a single drag.

“You have no idea who this agent is?”

“I don’t. But I did find out something about the mole, as we called him. He’d been undercover for months before I got promoted. Just after I started work at my new position, the higher-ups requested that all of the mole’s reports be sent directly to them.

But I did get a peek at one report before the order came down. It mentioned something about a plan being developed in the Crusade, some sort of eugenic cleansing that would be used to destroy the Mutants. I also remember reading something about Reverend Sheppard. The agents said that Sheppard wasn’t the real leader of the Crusade, that it was someone known as Phoenix. There was also a reference to a Chameleon. The only other name mentioned was a professor. Perriman. I think that was the name.”

I pulled the Colonel’s small notebook out of my pocket and jotted down the names Phoenix, Chameleon, and Professor Perriman. When I finished, I glanced at Dubois.

“So, what do you do now?”

Dubois shook his head and looked into his beer. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to sleep since the bombing. I want to go back to LA and see if any others survived, but I’m afraid if I do, someone’ll find me and I’ll disappear, just like the agents.“He looked up, hopefully. “What do you think I should do?”

I’d been in some dangerous spots before, but had never run for my life, so I couldn’t really empathize with him. He was terrified, and probably with good reason.

“Do you have any family?”

“Yeah. Back in Des Moines. My mom and sister live there.”

The mention of kinfolk seemed to calm Dubois. It seemed like a trip home would be just the thing.

“Why don’t you fly home for few weeks? Or the rest of your life? You’ll probably never feel safe in LA again. And what do you have to go back to?”

Dubois nodded, slowly at first, then emphatically. “You’re right. That’s what I’ll do.“He looked up at me. “Thanks a lot, Murphy.”

He finished his beer and was starting to move out of the booth when he paused. “What are you going to do?”

I thought about it. “Well, I guess I’ll see if I can find this package the Colonel was going to bring tonight. Then, I’ll see what I can do about finding the CAPRICORN mole.

Maybe through his Professor Perriman.”

Dubois slid out of the booth, stood up and extended his hand. “Good luck. It was good to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

He grabbed his coat and walked around the corner to the front door. With my arm on the back of the booth seat, I turned and looked out the window behind me. After a moment, I saw Dubois leave the club and cross the street. I was just about to turn back to the few remaining drops of bourbon in my tumbler, when I saw three dark figures converge on him. The attackers weren’t street kids, they were professionals. As they grabbed him, a speeder landed nearby, and they forced him inside. At the same instant, two grim-faced men in suits with matching bulges under their left arms approached the front door of the club.

I didn’t bother to finish the bourbon. I bolted from my seat, trying to remember if I’d seen a back door during my earlier reconnaissance. I couldn’t recall. A quick glance out the window told me that the men in suits had entered the club. They’d be on top of me in seconds.

I looked desperately around the room and saw the full figured girl in black, sitting alone.

I hurried over to her table and sat down. “Hello there.”

She looked at me, surprised, but not unpleasantly. “High. I’m Teri.”

I shook her hand, my eyes trained on the mirror behind her. The two men in suits had just stepped around the corner and were carefully surveying the area. Teri moved her head a little to make eye contact with me. “What’s your name?”

I pried my eyes away from the mirror and looked into Teri’s lovely face. “Tex. Listen, I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, but I noticed you earlier, and I thought you might like to dance.”

Teri smiled as I glanced back at the mirror. The men had started across the room. What the hell was I going to do?

“I’m really not much of a dancer. Why don’t you just tell me about yourself? I think talking is much more fun than dancing.”

The two men were twenty feet away and getting closer. I tensed up. They weren’t going to get me without a fight. Suddenly, they turned and moved quickly in the direction of the bar. As I breathed a sigh of relief, I heard the sound of shattering glass. I spun around to see one man with his gun to the throat of the waitress. The other man was holding off several employees, identification in one hand and a gun in the other. As the waitress struggled against her abductor, a shot rang out, and the sounds of screaming joined in with the pulsating music. I jumped up from the table and ran to the door, arriving just ahead of the panicking mob.

Bursting out of the logjam at the front door, I raced to my speeder and lifted off. As I rose above the bedlam, I looked down and saw the doors of The Land Mine vomiting hordes of terrified bystanders.

As I sped through the night, jumbled thoughts rattled around my head. Who had grabbed Dubois? Were the men in suits in league with the people who had abducted Dubois, or was it just a monumental coincidence of timing? I doubted it. From everything Dubois had told me, the people who’d suddenly shown up were probably affiliated with the nameless group that had destroyed CAPRICORN. Dubois was one of the last embers remaining from a nearly extinguished brush fire. These people had tracked him down and stamped him out. But why had they gone after the waitress? Maybe she’d been involved, too.

Fifteen minutes later, I descended on Chandler Avenue. Several speeders were parked at the kerb in front of the Ritz, so I set down halfway between the Ritz and the Brew & Stew. I got out of the speeder, locked it up, and started walking towards my office. As I in passed one of the parked speeders, I heard the whirring sound of a window going down and then a female voice. “Excuse me.”

I stopped and turned to find a beautiful woman looking up at me. Her skin was very fair, and her green eyes stood out, even in the dim light from the street lamps. Her red hair was bobbed and framed her face perfectly. But what really caught my eye was the gun pointed at my chest.

“Get in.”