Occupied Earth Read online

  Turning toward the broken door, too loudly Blocker asked, “Who’s there?” Something in Blocker’s gut twisted. He hoped whoever was in the corridor wasn’t Hannah coming back for something.

  A voice in the hallway, a male voice, yelled, “Fuck!”

  Steve raised his weapon toward a spot on the wall about where the voice had come from.

  “No,” Blocker hissed, trying to keep his voice low. “We take him alive, we can question him.”

  Obviously, Steve didn’t like this plan, but he said nothing.

  Blocker crept to the door, his gun up. He peeked around the door, saw a wisp of long, black hair, Hannah! But he was sure the voice had been male, what the hell?

  He had the door blocked and Steve couldn’t see into the hallway. The Mahk-Ra pressed against him, trying to see over his head, but Blocker used a hip to keep him back.

  Blocker yelled, “Freeze!”

  The face became more clearly visible as the suspect looked up, and Blocker realized it was a boy, a teenage boy with hair almost exactly like Hannah’s. The kid didn’t hesitate, he turned and ran.

  His prey, younger and more limber, flew down the stairs three at a time. Blocker took off after him but not before taking a quick step backward, causing Steve to trip and fall over the leg of a chair.

  Blocker ran hard now, trying to keep up, but the kid was a whole flight of stairs ahead of him and pulling away.

  The detective figured the boy for one of Kyla’s gang of messengers, but if he was, he was on the older side. He wore a grimy T-shirt, ripped jeans and sneakers held together with duct tape around the toes, and he was fast.

  The teenager was out the front door and going left before Blocker could even get to the last landing. Turning, the detective took a calculated risk and went down the back stairs and out the rear of the building. He wasn’t going to outrun the kid, so he had to hope the young man decided to curl around the building in hopes of disappearing in the apartment buildings to the north.

  Blocker burst through the door into blinding sunshine and turned right. In three quick strides, he was at the corner of the building and pulling to a stop. He heard the kid coming and didn’t risk taking a peek.

  Listening close, his heart hammering, Blocker waited until the kid was nearly on him, then stuck out a stiff arm, clotheslining the boy, and dropping him to the ground with a hard whomp, the air exploding out of the kid’s lungs.

  Pressing his advantage, Blocker dropped on top of the boy, pinning him down. The detective knew he had only a short time before Steve would be joining them, and the Mahk-Ra would torture the kid to find out if he knew where Hannah was.

  “Let me up,” the kid shouted, struggling against the bigger man holding him down.

  “Stop fighting,” Blocker said.

  The kid fought harder.

  Where was Steve? The Mahk-Ra detective had to be on his way, didn’t he? Blocker didn’t want to hurt the kid, but the boy wouldn’t stop struggling.

  “Kid, stop!” He pinned the kid down tighter.

  “Screw you, cop!”

  “Look, I need to talk to your boss.”

  “I don’t have a boss,” the kid said, squirming harder, but running out of breath now.

  “I’m going to let you up, let you go.”

  The kid looked skeptical.

  “But I need you to tell Kyla to call me.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Blocker heard the drone in front of the building. That was why Steve wasn’t out here, he could cover more ground with the drone. Shit. They only had seconds now.

  Rising off the kid, Blocker said, “Look, just deliver the message. Let Kyla decide for herself. Tell her to call Blocker - soon!”

  Blocker heard the drone heading toward them now.

  “Go, kid, run!”

  Then the boy heard it too. He didn’t need to be told twice, he was a vapor trail headed north.

  As the drone came around the building, Blocker shouted, “Hey, kid, stop!”

  The boy didn’t even turn to look. Blocker was putting on a good show for the drone’s camera, and the kid either knew that or didn’t care. He was gone.

  Steve ran up next to him and the drone sped after the boy.

  “Stop or I’ll fire,” Blocker yelled as the drone flew past him.

  The kid was almost to a building now. Blocker fired at the same instant that Steve made the drone dive to get a better angle and fired the drone’s machine gun. It was probably just bad luck that Blocker’s shot struck the tail of the drone and sent it momentarily off course. The drone’s shots went harmlessly into the air, missing the boy. By the time the drone righted itself, Blocker knew it would never catch the kid. One of Kyla’s kids who lived to be a teenager, like this boy, knew how to evade a drone once he had that big a head start. Blocker was sure the kid would be fine, but the question was, would he deliver the message? And, if he did, would Kyla call him?

  Steve turned to him, and though his partner’s anger was apparent, the Mahk-Ra managed to keep his voice even. “You shot my drone, Earther.”

  “Earther” was a term of derision to Steve and though he used it for most people he only used toward Blocker when he was pissed. Blocker suppressed a smile.

  “Sorry, but you’re the one who dove it into my line of fire.”

  Watching the monitor, Steve used the joysticks to fly the drone between the apartment buildings to the north.

  “Seems to be working fine,” Blocker said, careful to keep any trace of humor out of his voice.

  “The steering is off by at least 8.34 degrees.”

  “That’s not that much.”

  Steve shot him a look. “The boy has disappeared, perhaps we should call in a team to sweep all those apartments until we find him.”

  “That’s going to take a lot of time,” Blocker said. “I thought we were after Hannah Perez, not some anonymous kid.”

  “He is our best lead.”

  “What are the odds of that lead panning out?”

  “Less than twenty percent,” Steve admitted. “Do you have a better plan?”

  “Yeah,” Blocker said, turning toward their car and having no idea what the hell his better idea would turn out to be.

  He was sure Hannah was innocent, but the clock was running and Colonel Stanis-Ra wasn’t going to cut them any slack on his twenty-four hour order for bringing in the killer. Blocker wondered if turning in Hannah would be the only way to save the city. The plan to frame the Red Spear, Hannah in particular, was a brilliant one. Get them to not only apprehend the wrong person, but someone who would never be believed, no matter how much she protested her innocence, and was part of an organization the Mahk-Ra was out to destroy anyway.

  That was when it hit him. Who stood to gain the most from the death of Aquinas-ra and the capture of one of the Mahk-Ras’ biggest enemies? Only the Mahk-Ra would benefit, and of all of them, whoever took over for Aquinas-ra was the most likely suspect. But who would that be?

  “Wait,” Steve said. “The drone is not back yet.”

  Blocker kept walking while the Mahk-Ra recalled the machine. The whole way to the front of the building, Blocker’s mind raced as he tried to think of anything that could serve as enough of a lead to mollify Steve. Even as he considered that, he tried to figure out which Mahk-Ra would have the most to gain from Aquinas’s death. Only in finding the real shooter, and whoever was behind the frame, could he hope to save both Hannah and the city.

  He unlocked the trunk, and when Steve got back to the car, the drone settled down into it. Blocker closed the lid while Steve reattached the remote to his belt.

  “So, you were saying?” Steve asked.

  Going around to the passenger side, Blocker said, “We figured she wouldn’t be here.”

  “You figured.”

  “Either way, she wasn’t here.”

  “So, our next stop is?”

  They were already driving back toward the main north-south drag, Brady Street.

  Gra
sping at anything, Blocker said, “You remember that strip bar over on the west side?”

  Steve was nodding now. “The one where the Red Spear used to meet.”

  “Worth a shot?” Blocker asked, wanting the Mahk-Ra to feel like he was in charge.

  “Did not the Perez woman work there for a time?”

  “Bartender, not a stripper.”

  “Then yes, it is as you say, ‘worth a shot.’”

  The strip club, a long cement bunker called Boobies, wasn’t as classy as its name. It aspired to seedy, but couldn’t rise even that high. A canvas tarp had been pulled across the front window, and the stage was the size of a porta-potty without the door, but with the odor.

  Blocker let the Mahk-Ra lead the way. The alien detective would put everyone in the joint on their guard. Nobody would probably talk anyway, but with Steve leading the way, their silence was virtually assured.

  By letting Steve deal with the few customers, the only bartender, and a couple of lonely strippers, Blocker bought himself a little bit of freedom, just in case Kyla got his message and decided to call.

  The bartender had never heard of Hannah, and the customers around the bar weren’t going to admit to knowing anyone on the planet whether the interrogator was a Mahk-Ra or not.

  Blocker checked his watch for the fourth time since they entered, exactly six minutes later than the last time. The cell phone in his pocket vibrated.

  To Steve, he said, “Going to the john.”

  His partner nodded, and Blocker strode toward the men’s, trying not to walk too fast as the phone vibrated again. Once inside, he passed the three vacant urinals, checked the two stalls to ensure his privacy, then locked himself in the larger one before finally pulling out the phone.

  He clicked the button, said, “Blocker.”

  “I heard you wanted to talk to me,” said the seductive voice on the other end, Kyla.

  “Yeah,” Blocker said. “Our friends will want someone to pay for what happened this morning.”

  There was silence on the other end. Blocker kept his ears open to anyone coming into the bathroom, too.

  “If not the real killer, then Hannah, and if not her, the whole fucking town, maybe.”

  Her voice arctic, Kyla said, “I’m not giving you Hannah.”

  “And I’m not asking for her. I do want to know if you have any idea who the shooter was, though.”

  Another long silence, another glance at the door hoping no one, especially his partner, came into the men’s room. As the silence dragged on, Blocker tried to pick up sounds outside the bathroom. He knew he didn’t have a lot of time. When she still didn’t speak, he said, “Look, Kyla, everything you’ve worked for, this asshole is going to destroy it. Are you going to stand by and let that happen?”

  After a pause long enough for him to wonder if she was still there, she said, “No.”

  Speaking in a rush now, he said, “The evidence all points to Hannah.”

  “She didn’t do it,” Kyla said, her voice rising.

  “I know,” he said, his own voice rising, plowing over hers. “Just listen, will you? I may only have seconds. It’s a frame. I know it, but the Mahk-Ra are convinced that because the evidence ties to Hannah, and she’s Red Spear, that means she’s guilty. If they don’t find her, or if we don’t find the real killer, they may torch the whole fucking town, understand?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m tied up with my partner chasing Hannah. I need you to find the trigger man.”

  “Why would I help you?”

  “Because fighting back isn’t just about killing Mahk-Ra’s, it’s about saving human lives and you can maybe help me save the whole city.”

  That shut her up.

  “I think a Mahk-Ra is behind this,” he said. “One of them that wanted Aquinas out of the way.”

  “Bullshit. Mahk-Ra don’t kill their own. It’s not how they’re wired, they don’t kill for personal gain.”

  It was all falling into place for him now. “They have been studying us for years, decades, maybe they’re learning from us.”

  “The bad as well as the good,” Kyla said, seeing where he was going.

  “But without whoever pulled the trigger, I’ve got nowhere to go, even if I do figure out who built the frame.”

  “I’ll see what I can...”

  The men’s room door opened and Blocker interrupted her. “I’ll come help you look for the puppy as soon as I can get away.” He clicked off.

  “Are you still in here, Blocker?” Steve asked, his voice booming off the hard tile walls.

  “Can’t a guy have a minute?” Blocker asked without opening the stall door.

  “You have been in here for well over that duration of time, and who were you talking to?”

  “A woman, the same one from this morning. I’m trying to get lucky, but she’s all wrapped up in her missing dog.”

  “Bogie?” Steve asked.

  Blocker flushed the toilet, to keep up the illusion, before coming out of the stall. “Yes,” Blocker said. “Fucking Bogie.”

  “Your species and your insatiable sex drive,” Steve said, shaking his head. “No discipline.”

  Blocker moved to the sink to wash his hands. “Getting laid is more fun than discipline.”

  “The mindset that made it easy for us to conquer you. No discipline.” Steve opened the door and the music from the strip club blared in. “I have a lead on Hannah Perez’s whereabouts. We have to go.”

  Blocker fell in step, well, as best he could with a partner a foot taller.

  When they were outside, and Blocker’s ears were no longer being assaulted by the music from the club, he asked, “Where is she?”

  “One of the dancers said Perez had a boyfriend that lives on Marquette Street.”

  The idea that she had a boyfriend tugged at something in his gut. That thought bothered him more than they might actually be closing in on her.

  Blocker went back to what he was thinking about when he was talking to Kyla, the Mahk-Ras’ learning from the Earthers. “Which Mahk-Ra stands to gain the most from Aquinas’s death?”

  Steve blew out a long breath. “We have evidence. We have a suspect. Besides, what you’re thinking, that is not the way of the Mahk-Ra.”

  “Humor me.”

  After only a second’s consideration, Steve said, “Stanis-Ra is next in line, why?”

  “Because he was the one that kept us from going to the sniper’s nest.”

  “Because we already had evidence to follow.”

  “Okay, but the only evidence was the casing. Where is the rifle? How did someone get it in and out without anyone noticing? Why didn’t we see the security recordings?”

  “We may have overlooked those things, yes, but we had a trail to follow.”

  “We’ve been at this all day and most of the night and no one has called us with any information on either thing. You don’t think that’s weird?”

  The Mahk-Ra went silent, and Blocker let him mull all that over as his cell twitched, which meant a text had come in. Blocker took a quick look.

  The “boyfriend” knows the trigger man.

  The dancer is with us.

  Be careful, might want to keep you alive. K

  So, he had been right and he was a step closer to having the killer in his sights, if he trusted Kyla. Big “if.” She had trusted him, though. He needed to figure out how to spring the idea on Steve, and that wouldn’t be that simple.

  To make matters worse, they were pulling up in front of the house now. Assuming that Kyla’s setup was complete and Hannah wasn’t here, the only thing they needed to do was get Hannah’s boyfriend to tell them what really happened. He wondered why Kyla had put the word “boyfriend” in quotation marks. Was this a setup, too?

  “What’s the guy’s name?” Blocker asked.

  “Richie Panten. He’s an informant.”

  “Informing about what?” Blocker asked.

  “Red Spear activity.”


  Blocker knew the guy. He was an asshole and had about as much to do with Red Spear as Steve did. Now he knew Kyla was on the up and up, Hannah wouldn’t date Panten if he was the only man on the planet. Panten might have tried to inform on Red Spear, and now Kyla was getting her revenge, and saving Hannah at the same time.

  Steve was out of the car now and Blocker was struggling to keep up. Steve had the drone out of the trunk and in the air before Blocker caught up.

  Night had settled in and the streetlights weren’t much help. A splinter of light leaked out the edge of the blinds on the living room window of Panten’s house, but the rest seemed dark.

  “I’ll go around back and find a way for the drone to get inside. Wait here, and if he comes out the front, he’s yours,” Steve said.

  “Yeah, got it,” Blocker said. He had no intention of obeying his partner but he put on a good show until Steve rounded the corner of the house and was out of sight.

  Instantly, Blocker tiptoed to the front door, gingerly opened the screen and silently turned the knob of the inside door. It turned, unlocked.

  Blocker let out a breath as quietly as he could, then slipped his Glock from its holster. Holding it at his side, he eased the door open an inch. Through the gap he could see Panten sitting on a filthy couch in his skivvies, his greasy hair hanging to his shoulders, his skinny, bare chest sprouting maybe three curly hairs. The room stunk of sweat and the joint that hung loosely from the loser’s lip.

  Before Blocker could get into the room, the drone appeared from somewhere in the back of the house, causing Panten to sit straight up, his hand going behind the cushion.

  The drone’s mechanical voice said, “Richard Panten, you are under arrest. Freeze!”

  Panten didn’t. He rose, lurching a little, gun in hand. The drone fired, the sofa cushion where Panten’s head had been exploded in a cloud of puffy crap. Even before the fluff had reached the floor, the drone was turning for a second shot.

  The stoned Panten didn’t stand a chance as he tried to bring his pistol, a .357, to bear on the drone.

  Panten’s back was to him and Blocker saw his chance. He came in hard and fast and clubbed Panten over the head with his Glock. The guy went down just as the drone’s second shot buried itself in the wall next to Blocker’s head.