The Arena: The Awakening (1) (3 page)

“
Ha! Nothing’s changed here then”
Hank thought to himself with a half grin on his face.

Hank had sounded the horn a couple of times but there was no reply. Taking the initiative, he went to the garage side door and went inside looking for Fitz. It had been a couple of years since they had last seen each other, but they were old friends and Hank knew they would always pick up from where they left off.

“
FITZ?
” shouted Hank.

An unintelligible reply came from across the workshop from behind what looked like a dismantled Cadillac.

“I knew I would find you here under another pile of crap” Hank said in a jovial tone.

“What are you talking about pal? This is going to be a dream machine when I’m finished with it” replied Fitz as he turned down the volume on the stereo.

“What is it, a seventy-two Eldorado?” asked Hank.

“Yep, in body only” replied Fitz. “Picture her with a triple black paint scheme, custom cream interior and a brand new souped-up motor. That should shock a few people when I pull away on a green light!” After a brief pause for Fitz to wipe off the worst of the oil and grease, the two men eagerly shook hands.

“Damn good to see you buddy. Sorry to turn up unannounced but I need to tap into that oversized head of yours.”

“Sounds important” said Fitz, wishing Hank were there for a social visit and not work.

“I need you to take a look at these ballistics reports and tell me what you think” said Hank, passing him the pile of papers. He looked around the garage at all the various mechanical projects, giving Fitz all the time he needed to read the reports. After a few minutes, Fitz closed the reports and sighed.

“I think you’ve got a serious problem with this one”. Fitz had worked for the ballistics division of the National Security Agency prior to his retirement, and his concerned expression worried Hank.

“We trialled this a few years go in the Agency but couldn’t get it to work. Creating the bullet so it had no rifling marks wasn’t a problem but getting it to shatter on impact was. Also, the chemical make-up of gunpowder would damage the end of the bullet and reduce accuracy dramatically. We tried different types of explosive compound, the last one being a two compound epoxy-type resin. It showed promise but budget restraints put an end to it all. Are these reports correct in that someone has actually made this work?”

“Yes” replied Hank. “It’s been used at least three times now and I’ve been asked by the Bureau to find out by who.”

“Best of luck with that my friend,” replied Fitz quietly. “Whoever has the finance and expertise to pull this development off, probably isn’t someone you want to be investigating.” Hank’s confused expression made Fitz clarify.

“It has to be one of the agencies Hank. This isn’t some backwater weapons maker. This is seriously advanced research, with big funding”. Fitz’s tone became more urgent. “If you’ve been handed these by the Bureau to investigate, you can be damn sure you’re not alone in your investigation. Somebody, somewhere, is watching you!” Hank suspected his friend was right, and shook his hand before leaving.

“Perhaps luck is all I need Fitz. I’ve got to have some sometime. I promise my next visit will be a social one”.

Chapter 5

The Mission

As she looked through the 'scope on top of her rifle, Mia muttered under her breath “Wind, four miles an hour at one thousand and fifty yards, adjust two clicks to compensate”.

With her right hand, she slid back the bolt on her rifle with a hefty '
clunk'
. On the floor to her right, she picked up one of the three rounds she had in her arsenal. To the layman, these would look more like science fiction ammunition than normal rounds. They were transparent and were in three separate parts. The main cartridge of the round was filled with a green fluid one side and yellow in the other. The main bullet was black instead of the usual copper or lead. As Mia slid the bullet into the chamber of the rifle, it made a chinking sound similar to that of two champagne glasses being clinked together during a toast.

'
Clunk, Click!
''

She threw the bolt forward securing the bullet in the chamber and then took a deep breath and refocused down her 'scope. She could see her target’s vehicle arrive at the entrance to the apartment block at the other side of Boston Common from where she was positioned. She could see the flags on the front of his vehicle blowing in the wind.

“Wind, six miles an hour, one thousand and forty-seven yards, one click to compensate” she said to herself.

There was a very brief pause and then a crackled radio transmission:
“Mia, green light to proceed when ready”.

Mia took a deep breath, focused then exhaled half of the breath.

'
Click!'

The firing pin of the rifle moved forward as Mia squeezed the trigger. Through the 'scope of the rifle, she could see her target standing stationary at the side of the car that dropped him off. He was a well-dressed man wearing a suit that was obviously hand made. His hair was well groomed and he was wearing a pair of sunglasses. From the
'Click'
of the firing pin to the man's head virtually removing itself from his body felt like forever when, in fact, it was less than two seconds. The explosive power of the two fluids in the round were silent as they detonated. The clear structure of the round disintegrated, with the green and yellow fluid saving the firer from having to eject the
cartridge from the chamber. The man's body dropped to the floor almost instantly after impact. Through the scope she could see a lot of commotion below. The car driver, doorman to the building, pedestrians in the street, all rushed towards the body of the now deceased man.

“Objective complete, subject down”
whispered Mia.

“
Copied that. Return to the Arena within six hours for debrief.”
crackled another radio transmission.

With that, Mia started to dismantle her equipment. She started by systematically stripping her rifle down to its component parts. Silencer, tripod, barrel, body, bolt, stock, it all came apart. She placed each part into the custom designed suitcase. The last things to be put in were the two remaining rounds. They were first placed into a custom round carrier before being put in the case. Once everything was packed away and ready to go, Mia went to the room's bathroom, straightened herself up and dusted down her clothes. Lying on a table for three hours is extremely uncomfortable and will play havoc with your outfit.

Mia left the room taking both her suitcase and handbag and headed to the elevator in the hallway. Once in the elevator, she again checked herself out in the mirror inside.

“You can do this. You’ve done this before,” she said out loud while staring at herself.

She was saying it as if she needed convincing. She had gotten on at the fifteenth floor and it took what seemed like forever to get to the foyer. '
Bing
', the doors opened and she walked confidently to the reception desk. The click of her high heels alerted the receptionist of her presence.

“Can I help you ma’am?” enquired the clerk.

“Yes” replied Mia “My name is Laura Richards, I checked in this morning for an overnight stay but I’ve received bad news from a family member and need to return home, so I need to check out.”

“No problem at all Ma’am, if you bear with me, I’ll just check you out on the system. Do you have the card you made your booking on?” asked the clerk.

Mia went into her purse and pulled out the credit card in the name of Laura Richards. The clerk indicated that she swipe it through the machine on the desk, which she did and, once the transaction was complete, the clerk handed her a checkout slip.

He said, “We hope you enjoyed your stay and that everything is all right back home. We haven’t billed you for your stay and hope you’ll use us on your next trip”.

“Thank you, I will” replied Mia before turning and walking out of the building. Mia never skipped a beat throughout the whole process. Her heart rate remained the same even though she was lying. There was no perspiring, no mix-up of words, nothing. She had completed her task with pinpoint precision. She just had to get back to base without any issues.

Mia had parked her car in an underground parking lot about six blocks away from her hotel. This put her deep into the Chinatown area. Wheeling her suitcase all the way, it only took Mia thirty minutes to get to the lot. Once she reached her car, she placed her suitcase into the trunk and then looked around to check if there were any security cameras. Once she was happy that there weren’t, she unzipped a compartment on the bottom of the suitcase. From it she pulled out two number plates and a small cordless electric screwdriver. She switched both front and rear plates and got in.

“I forget what a nice place to be this actually is” she said to herself out loud.

Her car was a black Mercedes AMG 63 with privacy glass and full leather interior. The softness of the seat wrapped around her like a security blanket. With the press of a button, the German engineered V8 purred into life and within seconds she was heading to the exit. Before pulling up to the barrier, Mia retrieved a set of large glamorous sunglasses from the glove-box of the car and put them on. She had noted on the way in that the exit ticket machine had a small pinhole camera attached just underneath the LCD display. As she pulled up to the machine, her window was already down and in putting her pre-paid ticket into the machine, used her arm to quickly block the view of the lens of the camera. She held it there until the barrier rose and then floored it out of view. The camera only picked up a blur. She was now on the road back to the Arena.

The trip was arduous at best. The traffic was heavy and, despite all the driving techniques she was trained in, she could only go as fast as the vehicle in front. Sunset was beautiful that evening and as Mia headed south on the New Jersey Turnpike, she spotted the turn-off for Newark International Airport. As she pulled off, she headed for an industrial estate on the West side. Once there, she pulled into a fast food outlet parking lot where she knew had no CCTV system. She parked out of view at the far end, went in, grabbed a cup of coffee and stretched her legs. As she waited to get her coffee, she checked her watch and saw that she had three hours left to get to the Arena. She was confident she would still make it with time to spare. What she wasn’t expecting was that, through the glass of the food outlet, she could see two guys loitering around her car. She grabbed her coffee and walked casually towards the car. As she approached, she could see that they were still there and trying fruitlessly to get into the driver’s door.

“EXCUSE ME FELLAS ” she shouted at them. “NEED SOME HELP WITH THAT?”

“Yeh” one of them replied “I need the keys to your car”. With that, he pulled a knife out of the waistband of his trousers.

“Don’t you know that little girls shouldn’t be out after dark in places like this” laughed one of the men as he approached her.

“Don’t worry” she replied, “I’m sure I’ll be fine with you fellas.”

She placed her coffee cup on the ground and walked towards the first male. He lunged at her with the knife but, without him even seeing her move, Mia struck him as hard as she could in the windpipe. It was like being hit with an iron bar! Struggling for breath, the man dropped to his knees and fell face-first onto the hard tarmac. She looked at the next male who was still by the driver’s door. Mia looked him straight in the face. The sense of panic she could feel emanating from him was almost laughable.

With a smirk on her face, Mia said to him “I hope you’ve not damaged my car. I will be
very
unhappy if you have.”

In a panic, the male lunged towards her and shouted “Give me the keys you b….”.

Before he could finish the sentence, Mia caught his arm and twisted it around and up his back. As he bent over in agony, she delivered a perfect knee-strike to his face, smashing his nasal bone straight into his skull. She let him go and he slumped to the floor. Without acknowledging that anything had actually happened, Mia walked over, picked up her cup of coffee from the floor and took a sip. She looked around at the two men lying on the floor and then around the rest of the parking lot. She was still alone. No one had seen anything. She went to the rear of her car again and opened the trunk. From the same place as the others, Mia retrieved another set of number plates and attached them to the car. She put her coffee into the cup-holder in the car and headed off out of the estate back towards the turnpike. Just before she got to the turnpike, on the opposite side of the road, she was passed by two police cars with lights flashing and sirens blaring, heading in the direction of the fast food outlet. As the lights disappeared in the distance in her rear view mirror, she smiled to herself and headed onto the turnpike and south towards Washington DC.

The traffic had lightened up so Mia managed to hit a bit of speed on the way down. She arrived in DC with thirty minutes to spare. She parked a block away from the Arena in another underground parking lot, which specialised in long term parking. She retrieved her suitcase from the boot, grabbed her handbag and headed towards the Arena building. It only took her a few minutes to get there but instead of going in the front door, she went in the side entrance. Once inside, she got into a small service elevator and punched in the numbers 9, 0, 3 and 8 into the keypad. The elevator once again went down, and then started moving sideways. When it stopped, the door opened and she walked into the clean sterile area and was instantly surrounded by doctors and nurses. Through the cluster of medical staff, a tall man approached. Mia knew him as Doctor Cooper.