Fear Itself

The van was crowded. It was hot, and it smelled putrid, something like rotten eggs. Sulfur stink was what Dr. Larson called it, and he actually laughed like it was funny. I didn’t think it was funny. I was the one who had to ride around in the back of the thing for twenty minutes with the dreaded “sulfur stink.” It definitely wasn’t pleasant. Rotten eggs, definitely… but there was an undertone of ammonia, so much so that I could feel a headache coming on. We rumbled along. Larson was a decent driver, but the roads of West London were bumpy, and there were no seats in the back of the van. I held steadfast to Avery to keep myself from falling on anyone else.

Eventually, we stopped. We were right outside the back of warehouse, at least was what Larson said. There wasn’t much to be seen from the two small windows in the back of the van.

“Great,” Alex said, finally breaking the silence. “About ten minutes to spare.” He tugged a black bag from between the seats currently occupied by Dr. Larson and Garrett. “Before we head in, we’re to go over a few things. Remember, there are security cameras placed within. While Garrett takes out security, remember, no employees, we want the civilians safe if we can, our first duty is to cover the cameras by the safe. Sam and I were concerned that trying to cover the cameras in the further corners would take up too much time and compromise the mission. Dean is inside trying to silently disable what he can and scope out anything we haven’t already accounted for. That being said, should the cameras detect our presence, and that will only happen if the cameras aren’t covered enough or one of steps into an open angle, we will be dealing a very limited amount of time. So the key here is to work quickly and get out.”

I sat quietly, watching as Alex opened the bag and tossed us all ski masks. “Put these on,” he instructed. “They should delay the cameras from recognizing us.” I inspected my mine, slipping my hand inside and playing with it.

“How do you know the cameras recognize us?” I asked, still focused on the mask.

“I don’t really know the mechanics of it,” Alex confessed. “But I do know that once they’ve spotted someone who isn’t supposed to be there, they make this dreadful, buzzy whining sound.”

“The camera functions as a computer,” Garrett piped up, voice cold and blank, clearly American. “It focuses on individuals in the room, and based on visuals, often something as specific as your body structure, even just your eyes, it runs whatever it can get through a database of all the citizens in London. If it can’t find you in London, it starts searching elsewhere.” He paused to clear his throat. “It sounds like a lot of work, but it does all of this in about thirty seconds, and it pulls up your records… which we all have. The League keeps them from birth until death, then they shred them up. But they’ve got everything on them. Age, name, birthday… social status, marital status… anything they might ever want to know is on that record, and when they find a West Londoner strolling about East London facilities, they consider that trespassing… that’s why the cameras go nuts.”

“How do you know that?” I looked in Garrett’s direction, but he didn’t look back.

He simply muttered, “Because I was with Conor Kennedy when he had the idea.”

“Careful of the militia,” Alex interjected. “The cameras will have them charging in, so save your bullets just in case. The only one shooting when we enter should be Garrett. The rest of us should save all ammunition in case they do storm the warehouse and try to take us out. Be prepared for a firestorm.”

I looked down at the gun sitting in my lap, and somehow, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to use it… even if I had to. While I was staring, I hardly noticed Alex shift positions to sit next to me with the backpack. Avery leaned forward a little, watching him cautiously. Alex never left his sights.

“Not that I’m condoning your presence, here, but,” Alex began to say with a sigh as he dug through the back some more. He pulled out a small device, small and square, just a bunch of uncovered circuit board. “I’m assuming you’ve got some basic programming skills.” I nodded. I had read enough books on computers and technology to have the basic skills. Obviously, there had never been a chance for me to apply it… but still. “Good, then this will make the job easy for you.” I took the device from his hand to examine it as he continued to explain. “Dean has already scoped this place out, and it’s a card-locked safe. Basically, anyone with an ID card get into the safe. Unfortunately, nobody with card access is going to be in the warehouse today. Inside of the lock is a DC socket that charges the battery in the control panel.”

“Right,” I replied. “And the DC socket charges the lock battery.”

“Correct, but it also holds the 32 digit security key to opening the door.” He tugged at the end of the box, pulling out three small, gold pegs. “These will extend up to a foot. All you need to do is plug this into the bottom of the panel and press this red button,” he told me, showing me with his fingers what to be looking at. “This will extract the data you need. Then, to open the safe, just hit the green button to the send data back into the panel. Viola, door opened.”

“Awesome,” I murmured in awe, staring at the thing. I had never been able to hold a piece of technology like this in my hands. Not that it was awe-strikingly beautiful or anything. It was really just raw wiring and circuits. Avery’s phone, by my standards, was quite aesthetically pleasing. It was white, made of what looked like glass and some aluminum. Granted, Avery’s screen was cracked. I had yet to scold him about mistreating such a gem, but I didn’t think it would get me anywhere.

Alex’s head turned just in time to see Dean walked out the door. He tapped twice on the van. That was the signal we were good to go. I pulled the ski mask over my head as Alex quietly hushed us and opened the back of the van. We jumped out, grasping our guns. I had a hand gun, just a small little thing because I couldn’t handle anything larger. Garret and Alex both wielded assault rifles, the largest guns I had seen to date. They were black, cold, shiny metal and no doubt would be used to kill people inside. I was trying to ignore that fact because I didn’t like it. Avery had a handgun, different than mine, he said. His was semiautomatic. I didn’t know what that meant, but it was different, probably more powerful. We all wore the masks, and we all wore black, supposedly to hide our identities. Honestly, I think Dean only told us to wear black because it made us look cool.

We approached the door, waiting for directions, waiting for Alex to say something. I suppose he spaced out, and I turned quick enough to catch Avery slam his palm into the back of Alex’s head to bring him back to reality. “Honestly, mate?” Alex groaned, rubbing the afflicted area.

“Not the time,” Avery grumbled.

“For what? I asked, glancing between the two of them.

In unison, the two simply replied, “Nothing.” How strange.

“Alright,” Alex whispered, looking to Garrett and giving him the nod in. After just a few seconds, Alex rushed in afterwards, jumping to reach the camera on the first corner and sticking a circular, white sticker over the lens. He rushed over to the other side, racing behind Garrett, who was opening fire upon the wave of security attempting to take him down (and failing, judging by the blood on the floor), to do the same to other camera. He quickly waved me in, and I rushed immediately toward the large safe in the center. Alex and Garrett stood atop two steps, looking down at frightened employees.

“Get on the ground!” Alex screamed rather forcefully, holding his gun like he was willing to shoot. Garrett had already shot, so it was safe to say the employees were already terrified. “Where we can see you!”

They crawled out, laying on the ground amidst boxes and boxes of what we could assume were fire arms, but what we wanted was contained within the safe. With a nudge from Avery’s elbow, I quickly remembered that everyone was waiting on me, so I crouched right under the control panel on the enormous vault door, attached the adapters to the bottom of the control panel, and watched as tiny blue numbers whirled around the tiny black screen on the device.

Garrett began to walk around amongst the hostages. I never knew why this was, and even though Alex audibly asked, “What are you doing?” Garrett never answered him. Nobody made a noise until that awful, buzzing, whirring siren sounded, the very same one that Alex mentioned before. I wanted to cover my ears with my hands and block it out, but I couldn’t. I had to hold the circuit box. I had to get my job done, but that sound was dreadful. “Take them out!” Alex called to him. There were no militia here yet, but four shots were fired: one for each Karpov employee lying on the floor. They didn’t even scream. Alex doubled back a bit and stood in front of me. “Look alive, T,” he warned, shoving in a new clip and cocking his gun. “It’s about to a bloodbath in here.”

Within minutes, militia stormed the building, bashing in through the front doors and smashing through the window. “Take no prisoners, boys!” Alex shouted, and I heard Avery clear his throat beside me. The pressure was on, and if I wasn’t already sweating bullets, I certainly was now. Gun fire sounded, but I wasn’t sure if it was coming from Garrett or from the on-coming militia. Suddenly, the sound of shooting erupted from all sides, both from Alex and from Avery (who I was sure was enjoying this much more than I was). At first, the numbers were just buzzing, and I was safe. As soon as it blinked with the word ‘END’ across the screen, I quickly mashed my finger down on the green button. The numbers began whirring again. “You almost done?” Alex shouted over the siren sounds.

“Yeah,” I yelled back at him.

He nodded, and he proceeded to scream down to Garrett, “Take out the cameras!” And down they went. Just then, the van backed in, straight through the door we just entered through. Larson jumped out of the car, gun in hand, taking out a few militiamen in the process. He nudged Alex, allowing him to charge forward into the fire with Garrett. The sirens stopped, and only the sound of flying bullets prevailed, only interrupted by the sudden grunts of the ones who got hit.

“Why didn’t we just do that in the first place?” Dr. Larson shouted, still firing precise shots at any on-coming militia as I manned the machinery.

“Because Sam don’t like to cause ‘unnecessary damage,’” Avery grumbled back as he reloaded his gun.

“Done!” I shouted as the machine beeped, and a loud clang came from the vault door that soon began to creep open.

“Fantastic!” Dr. Larson exclaimed, quickly shoving his gun in the waistband of his pants and charging into the vault. Almost right on cue, another man rolled in, a big, bulkier man, also wearing a mask and wielding a powerful-looking firearm. The first thing he did was take cover behind a stack of crates, only poking a bit of his torso out to fire rounds in rapid succession at militiamen, and they were dropping like flies. Only a few remained, and Dr. Larson had already begun loading the van.

The man who just rolled in gave me a wink. “Good work, Blondie,” he chuckled, and I couldn’t help but grin. Suddenly, Avery had grabbed me by the collar and tugged me a few feet back as Dean shot the man who almost killed me square in the head.

Avery threw me to the center of a circle comprised of Alex, Garrett, and himself. Dean started to help Dr. Larson load the back of the van with crates. “Down,” Avery commanded gruffly. “Hand me your gun.” And I did. I dropped to my knees and covered my head with arms. I don’t know why I did that. My arms weren’t really going to do much to shield me from military grade bullets, but at least I could the guns firing in the hands of my friends. Somehow, I felt safe.

I don’t know how much time passed that we were like that. Everything slowed down; maybe that was the fear. “Heads up!” Dean called as he tossed something around. It landed with a thud by my feet. It was a small black thing. It was beeping. Quickly, Avery grabbed me by the arm and dragged me with so much force I practically hovered above the two stairs just as the final beep sounded, and everything turned to chaos.

The round, black object exploded with so much force that the surrounding crates shattered and chunks of wood flew. Smoke barreled throughout, knocking me over, clear into someone else. We both landed with grunts. In a brief, thin layer of the shrouding smoke, I caught a glimpse of chestnut eyes, and he laughed. “Tali,” Alex chuckled, sputtering a cough. “Would you mind getting off?”

I barely had a chance to answer, laugh, or even grin because Avery tore me off of the floor and pulled me with him into the back of the truck. We sat squashed among the crates as Dr. Larson revved the engine and pulled away from the warehouse. We struggled to keep the crates from shifting and falling on us, but we were laughing. We were breathless and sweaty and shaking off fear, but we were laughing. Alex even elbowed me, leaned in, and whispered, “I was wrong. Good work in there.” Dean leaned over and ruffed up my hair with his fist.

“Told you she’d be fine,” he laughed. Exactly. I was fine. Everything was fine. People had died in there, and here we were, laughing. For a second, I stopped to question my feelings, but I saw the beaming smiles on friends, and something told me that we had done the right thing, the good thing… and perhaps even the just thing.