Death's Twilight

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  JFK Airport, Eastern UT, December 7, 2308 06:12:12 (T-Minus 05:23:47:48)

  Slade stood in the line of people waiting to check out through customs. As he slowly moved closer to the desk, he continually scanned the crowds for the woman he had seen in Kiev. She would still be after him, and although he had not seen her since Kiev, there was no doubt about it. Being at JFK International airport, there was quite a risk of running into someone he knew with its one hundred and twenty-seven thousand daily passengers. He checked his chronometer. Almost a day had passed since Herman had died, and she had been after him within six hours. iCorps was on the ball, and they wanted Slade's head. After three flights and almost twenty-four consecutive hours in the air, he was almost home. Willing to take no chances this close to home, he patiently waited with the thirty or so others as the officials diligently worked to process the individuals entering The UT.

  He looked up to see the official beckoning him forward. He stepped quickly to the desk.

  "Purpose for being in the territory?"

  "I'm travelling to the Eastern UT on business." Slade said in Kozel's voice.

  "ID, sir?"

  Slade handed over Kozel's ID card, making sure that the guard noticed his iCorps logo on his coat. The guard visually matched Slade to the card, and then scanned the card into the computer. He paused, looking up at Slade.

  "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step out of line, and come with me please."

  Slade was confused. The card had worked in Kiev, Paris and Toronto. Had they caught on to him finally?

  "Is there a problem?" Slade asked, looking around quickly. He didn't notice anyone coming for him, but it was best to be prepared.

  "Please come with me."

  The guard indicated a door marked Authorized Personnel Only. Slade wasn't sure he wanted to go with the guard, but at this point, it appeared he had no choice. He followed the guard through the door, and down a white hallway to a black door with a silver plate. The plate read Holding # 1. The guard unlocked the door and ushered Slade inside.

  "Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee, some water?"

  Slade shook his head. "I'm fine, thank you."

  The guard nodded, and left the room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as the door clicked shut, Slade grabbed the handle, twisting it in an attempt to open the door. It was locked. He pulled again and again, trying in vain to open the lock. He looked frantically around the room for an escape, but there was none. Void of a window or any other aperture, the room contained a stool, a desk that was bolted to the wall, and a communication terminal.

  Slade went immediately to the terminal, pulling it forward and down. He reached behind it, feeling for the opening that housed the memory chip. Finding it, he removed the chip, and placed it between his teeth. He then twisted his chronometer free from its base, and removed the memory chip from underneath the glowing display. Swapping chips, he replaced the terminal on the wall just as the door opened.

  "Problem, son?"

  A tall man walked into the room. He had jet black hair, and eyes to match. As Slade looked closer, he realized that his eyes were so black that you couldn't differentiate between the iris and the pupil. The man was slender, but built, and carried a Boom Stick in a sheath on his left side.

  "Trying to make a call. Terminal's not working."

  "It works when we allow it to work."

  "Can you tell me why I'm in here?"

  "To put it simply. You're dead." Slade felt a chill penetrate to his core.

  "I'm sorry? Dead?"

  "Yes, Officer Kozel, you are dead. This afternoon about one pm, Kiev local time. And yet here you are. Can you explain this amazing phenomenon?"

  "I don't under-"

  "Or perhaps, you would like to explain why you murdered Officer Kozel, Emissary 0247893."

  Slade froze. How did they figure me out? Retinal scans, of course! He mentally slapped himself for being so short-sighted. Slade stood straight, assessing the man. What would be his first move? He didn't recognize him from The College, so he probably was only hired help. And the woman was clearly the Emissary after him. Had iCorps sent two?

  Slade relaxed his control on his sub dermal tattoo. Slowly, the image of Kozel faded, and Slade's true form emerged. The man watched with amazement, interested and frightened at the same time.

  "I have no idea what you are talking about. The last time I saw Kozel, he was heading home to his wife and kids."

  "Evidence, including retinal scans, places you at Officer Kozel's residence sixty minutes before his murder."

  "That's impossible! I've been travelling for over twelve hours! Use your head. I can't be in two places at once."

  "Kozel was. At home, and flying around the world."

  "I'm telling you I didn't kill Kozel. He helped me! There is more at play here! Did your sources tell you about Randy Herman and the Principal of Crimea smuggling adolescents into the territory to bolster their population?"

  "That doesn't concern me at the moment. The murder of Dmytro Kozel does."

  "And I'm telling you I know nothing about it!"

  "We'll see."

  The man turned to exit the room. Slade ripped the communication terminal from the wall and flung it at the man's back. It connected square between the shoulder blades, sending the man off balance. Slade lunged forward, grabbing the man's Boom Stick and releasing its energy into the man in one fluid movement. The guard hit the floor, frozen. There was a knock at the door.

  "Everything ok in there?" A voice from the other side of the door.

  "Fine." Slade answered. He quickly took advantage of the man's condition, undressing him, and swapping their outfits. Studying the man closely, he used his tattoo to alter his appearance once again. He propped the man up on the stool, leaning him back against the wall for support. Slade banged on the door twice, and it opened, swinging in toward him. The guard in the hall looked at Slade, then glanced at the unconscious man on the stool. He did a double-take, seeing the same face on both men.

  "Marcel?" He asked, pointing to the man on the stool.

  "Yep." Slade replied flatly.

  He reached out with quick reflexes, grabbing the guard's tie with his right hand, and pulling the guard toward him. As the guard was pulled through the doorway, Slade used his left hand to bring the door around, slamming it into the guard's head, knocking him unconscious. The man fell to the ground in a tangle of keys and limbs. Slade relieved the guard of his keys and stole into the hallway, letting the door shut with a click behind him.