Origami St.Claire No. 2

waiting for her in that alley. Otherwise Caterine wouldn’t have a direction to even go in. These tunnels, the ones I’m standing in, are seldom used and shouldn’t have even been accessible from the top. But, when one takes into account where the signal goes dead, it all starts to make a little more sense. And yet it makes no sense at all.

  Damn.

  Underneath the city-maze of tunnels that make up New Manhattan’s underground, there are even more, all built and fortified during the first two Great Wars. However, they were all believed to have been blown closed in the beginning of the Dawn Era.

  Apparently not.

  After almost an hour of following the trail to its dead end, I find myself in a large room. It was a supply hold in the Great Wars. This is where crates of supplies and vehicles waited to enter the tunnel to get to the facilities below. The room’s in bad shape. It’s obviously all blown to hell. Busted up crates litter the floor all over, along with rusted out shells of old war vehicles. Stacks of burned up crates line the walls. This is where the World Government closed the tunnel.

  But it’s not closed anymore. Before me is the gaping maw. I don’t know when the tunnel was dug out, but it was a massive effort. It’s gigantic, and likely much larger than the original tunnel. If that device went down there, Caterine surely went with it. That means they do have her. If she’s not already dead, she’ll be surrounded by people that will end my life before I can get to her.

  What the hell kind of organization could even do something like this, without Civil knowing about it?

  “CIBL.”

  Its electronic voice comes in over the comm, through a lot of static, “It is not wise to proceed, St.Claire.”

  “Pull from my database for any organizations that may have been heavily active in New Manhattan in the past ten, twenty years, and cross-reference with the Civil database of all known terrorist organizations. Then get the sensor readings from just before the black out, and just after.”

  “Most of that will be illegal, St.Claire. And detective Sillas has yet to return to Civil HQ.”

  “All of it’s illegal, CIBL. Including checking on Franko Sillas. Just do it.”

  “Shall I notify Maggie?”

  “No. I’ll be back before too long. But notify Civil about this place if I’m not back within the next five hours.” I hang up on CIBL and start my trek down. I would notify Civil now, but they would shut me out of my case.

  + + + + + +

  The tunnel dug by whoever took Caterine went on for miles, at a steady decline. In spots it became muddy, as the ceiling of the tunnel leaked. Thankfully, I did still have my umbrella, even though I didn’t really need it above ground. The tunnel ends in another giant room. This is where they started digging from. There are a few huge drillers in the room, and a couple large tunnels branch out on either side. Under cover, I scope the area out. No one is around. Directly ahead, across the room, a building is built into the face of the wall.

  That looks promising.

  But it’s not. It’s empty, save for relics from over a hundred years ago. Everything’s covered in dust, or rather dirt from the excavation. Whatever plans they have for those tunnels, they haven’t decided to use them yet. They didn’t even bother posting guards.

  I’m in the last room of the building. Obviously, I need to go a lot deeper into this ancient manmade cavern. Outside of the building, on the other side, is a level chamber. It doesn’t descend like the previous tunnel, and it was carefully crafted. Rows of pillars keep it from caving in, and have for hundreds of years. I wonder how deep I am now, under New Manhattan. Nothing works. The comm can’t connect to the net, and there are no sensors that I can get info from. I look back at the building. Its design is more ornate on this side. Above the main door is a plaque. It reads:

  We will take the world back. 2239.

  That’s soon after the Third Great War started. The war for reclamation. However, I doubt that this facility, and anything ahead of me, were operated by the reclamation forces that became the World Government, after the Third Great War. No. The feel of this place, the stench of it, it was likely a fall back base for those that took power in the Second Great War. And that’s not an omen of good fortune, considering that what lies ahead may be a base for a group with similar goals. Why else bring Caterine down here? Why rebuild the tunnels under New Manhattan? Or build new ones?

  What is going on here?

  I close my eyes and wonder if Caterine is still alive. I truly wonder if I will see her and her legs again.

  What kind of enemy am I facing?

  Unfortunately, my pondering has led me to put down my guard. I don’t see her at first when she rushes me from behind the first set of pillars. She comes at me hard and fast and takes me down. I lose my umbrella when she tackles me.

  We grapple on the ground, before I am able to throw her off. She gets up quickly. So do I. She rushes me, attacking effectively, making every punch and kick count. But I am still able to block all her moves. She doesn’t land a single hit. I let her gain ground, because it doesn’t matter if I lose any. And moving back softens the blows. I see the Civil Special Unit Uniform she’s wearing and know that this woman, this girl, isn’t my enemy. So I hold back. She can’t seriously be older than Maggie, who’s only eighteen. But her uniform and the fighting skill that this girl possesses makes it unmistakable. She is literally on one of NMCPF’s elite special units. Judging by the insignia, a crow with spread wings clutching a sword in its feet, it’s Special Unit 7. She’s good, too good for her age. She breaks through my defenses, lands a blow in my chest, blocks my right with her left and lands another blow in my jaw, then flips me onto the ground.

  Now it makes sense. She’s a CE. And a well-designed one at that. But to be so young…

  I still got to hold back a little, but I also just can’t let her mop the floor with me.

  I jump to my feet and face her. I let her attack again. This time, I flip her. She lands hard on her back, but jumps right back up. As soon as she rises, I hit her hard in her chest sending her right back down. Immediately, she rushes me. She fights with a cool, even head. We trade blow after blow. Each of us blocks most of the attacks and only lets a few hits through our defenses.

  But she’s just getting in my way. Eventually, I land with my back to a pillar. Time to end this tiff. I let down my guard and she lands a few good hits. Thinking she has me, she throws a punch with most of her weight and power behind it. I grab her arm and use her own momentum against her, throwing her hard against the pillar. It sure as hell knocks the wind out of her. Then I grab her by the throat and lift her off the ground, bracing her against the pillar.

  “Enough of this!” I yell at her, as she tries to break free of my grip. As she continues to fight, I tighten my grip a little, just to show her I’m serious.

  After a little while longer, she stops struggling. In a tone that’s more than just a little bit whiney, she breathes out, “Fine. You win. Enough, enough. Let go.”

  I let go and she drops in a heap on the ground. I stand over her, as she catches her breathe. “You’re a type nine,” I say to her. She looks up with shock in her eyes, still catching her breath. “And you’re good. But just not good enough to beat me,” I say. Then I turn my back to her as I walk away.

  A type nine is a fully cybernetically enhanced human. The entire body, starting with the bones, is converted into foreign-alloy endoskeleton. The process is one of the most painful things someone can go through. Many people on whom the process is attempted still die. And it only gets worse from there, with the pain and the potential death. That’s why only the World Military is allowed to carry out such conversions, and only on volunteers.

  But this girl…

  Her youth is one of the only reasons why I bested her.

  She braces against the pillar as she stands up. And retrieve my umbrella, before turning back to her. I mig
ht need it later. As I pick it up, I hear her ask, “What did you do with her?”

  So that’s what that whole thing was about. Caterine.

  Looking at her, I reply, “You could have just asked that, instead of attacking me. And to answer your question: I did nothing with her. Except let her leave.”

  “She went to you last night. Then she disappeared. And now I followed you all the down here from the scene of her husband’s murder.” Interesting. She might be better than I thought; if I only noticed her when she wanted me to. Hell, she might have held back herself. “I may be new to being a cop, but you sure look guilty to me. Did you build those tunnels?” And in a childlike manner, she states matter-of-factly, “They’re not supposed to be there, you know.”

  I plant the tip of my umbrella firmly onto the concrete floor below and rest on it with both hands. Then I cock my head to the left and sigh. She knows that I didn’t build the tunnel. It’s almost like having Maggie down here with me. But with her skill, this girl will likely be an asset in a fight. If one comes up.

  “So you didn’t build it. So what. You knew where it was. You went straight here,” She says, taking a couple steps forward. “Where’s Caterine?”

  I take my umbrella in my right hand and point it straight down the chamber. “She’s down there, and very possibly already dead,” I reply, very