Razor Burn

by O. J. Anderson

Table of Contents
Chapter 15, Chapter 16,
Chapter 17, Chapter 18
appear in this issue.

Chapter 19

The four-wheel-drive security vehicle slowly traces the fenced perimeter of the compound. The spotlight stops on a two-man foot patrol with canine unit near Tower 7. The foot patrol waves, then keeps moving.

* * *

The packaging facility is brightly lighted and now operating at full capacity. Thaddeus and Erskine walk quickly past the production line where hundreds of tiny liquid-filled bottles are being stamped with their new red and yellow Blast-O-Aspirin labels. At another end of the facility the tiny bottles are placed into boxes, taped shut, and loaded onto pallets. Then it’s off to the shipping building where they will be loaded onto trucks by forklift.

The foreman checks his shipping manifest, then slaps his clipboard on a nearby forklift. He yells, “Let’s go! Let’s go!”

* * *

Leon escorts Kate into the glass-walled containment area of the laboratory. He shoves her down into a rolling desk chair and tapes her to it. Once she is secured, he positions her in the center of the containment area so that she is facing the glass entry door. Leon removes the frag grenade clipped to his belt and shows it to her.

“See this? This is going under your chair. If you move, the last things you will ever see are your legs flying up in front of your face.”

He pulls the pin, showing it to her for a moment so that she comprehends the full magnitude of the situation. Then he carefully places the grenade between the floor and the legs of the chair.

With Kate boobytrapped, Leon goes to the far side of the containment area and disconnects an emergency eyewash station. He removes the gallon-sized tank of water, the hose, and the goggle-shaped funnel, taking all of them to the doorway.

From his pocket Leon takes a small glass vial, opens it, and pours its contents into the reservoir of the eye-wash unit. He then rigs the modified eye-wash system above the entry door like a summer camp prank so that anyone who enters the containment area will doused with the contaminated water.

“There,” he says, “all set to go. But before I leave, is there anything I can get you? Maybe a cold beverage or a popsickle?” Leon waits for a response.

Kate mumbles something unintelligible under the tape.

“No? You’re fine? Okay. I guess this is goodbye then.” Leon bends and licks Kate’s cheek.

Moaning, she tries to pull away.

Leon then hurries off to the rear of the containment area and punches a code into the keypad by the electronic sliding door. The door opens with a whoosh. It leads to a restricted area filled with glass booths large enough for humans. Once the door closes, Leon unholsters his pistol and fires two shots at the keypad, disabling the door so that there is now only one way in and out of the containment area.

* * *

Razor’s truck hauls ass down Route 1 heading for the Bikharmer compound. Carl is in the passenger seat inserting a magazine into the MP5 sub-machinegun. He pulls the bolt to the rear, then lets it slam forward, chambering a round. Carl hands the weapon to Doug, sitting behind them in the jump seat.

“It’s on safe,” Doug tells him.

The radio squawks to life. “Razor Burn, this is Hawk 1. Come in Razor Burn.”

“Go ahead, Hawk 1.”

The UH-1 helicopter gunship glides into position two hundred feet above the truck. The pilot radios down, “I heard there was going to be an ass-kicking party tonight. Thought I might crash it.”

“You heard right, Hawk 1. Only, this party’s bring your own boot.”

“Roger that. But all I’ve got is this twenty mike mike cannon and three inch rockets.”

“Those’ll do,” Razor says. “Welcome.”

* * *

Thaddeus Bikharmer sits behind his son’s desk lighting a cigar. Erskine stands in front of the desk biting his nails and wondering if this would be a bad time to make a move for his strategic reserve of Ho-Hos and Ding-Dongs stored in the costume closet.

“We’ll have the drivers stash the product all over the city,” Thaddeus says. “Near water sources, food, wherever it can do the most damage in the least amount of time.”

“But, Father, the antidote. It isn’t ready. We can’t go ahead...”

“Wake up, boy. Don’t you see what’s going on? It’s over. It’s all over! They’re on to us. The gig is up, boy!”

Surprised by the admission, Erskine asks him, “Then why are you...?”

Old finger jabbing at the boy. He shouts, “Because this city is not going to forget the name Thaddeus Bikharmer. That’s why. Never!” He stands and leers angrily at his son. “You wouldn’t understand, boy. How could you? I gave you everything. Sent you to the best schools, dressed you in the finest clothes. No, you couldn’t understand what it’s like to live your life in the shadows, hoping nobody finds you so they don’t pin you down and spit in your eyes or kick your shins because they think it’s funny to watch you hop around in pain. Ever been stuffed inside a trash can? Huh? No, of course you haven’t. I made sure of it. I did everything I could to ensure that you turned out okay. That you would be the man who carried my name after I was gone. But, I guess I failed.”

“What? What do you mean, Father?”

Thaddeus sits down again. “Oh come on, boy. Do you really think I don’t know what you do in here at night? All that music and dancing and the cheap wine. And the cake.”

Face reddening. Erskine lowers his head in shame. “Uh...”

“Not only did you fail to produce any grandchildren for me, but you practically destroyed my company single-handedly. It still amazes me after all I spent on your education that you have no apparent talent for business, or anything else for that matter. You have no recognizable common sense, and not one shred of leadership or financial acumen.” Thaddeus lets go a long sigh, like a boy who just realized that his dog isn’t coming home ever again.

Slowly he rises and walks around the desk to his slumping son. “But you know what? It’s okay, boy. I’m not mad at you any more. No, I’m not mad. This will all work out just the same in the end. You actually did me a favor, in your own clumsy, idiotic way.”

Upon hearing these words, Erskine can’t help but smile at his father.

Thaddeus continues: “This city is going to pay for what it’s done to me. It made me what I am, now it has to pay the price. Just tell me one thing, boy. Are you with me? Are you with me, boy?”

Erskine nods.

He asks again, “Are you with me?”

“Yes, Father. I am with you.”

“Good.”

An explosion outside the office window, cracking it. The sound of intense gunfire follows.

* * *

Razor fires a burst over the hood of the truck. Doug, to his right, crouches by the door. Carl is touching off semi-auto 5.56 near the tailgate. Automatic fire from the Security Force tears through the windshield and body panels. Razor can tell these guys are pretty good by the way they launched into a strong volley of fire at the outset of the battle, then settled into a controlled alternating fire pattern.

The gunship flies overhead firing rockets and blowing an entry hole in the fence. Bright orange muzzle flashes multiply in number from inside the compound as the Security Force reinforces itself.

* * *

From the office window, Thaddeus and Erskine watch the plumes of fire off in the distance.

“Damn!” Thaddeus shouts. “It’s that big baboon again. I know it.”

Erskine, now fully on board with the plan to poison the city in order to avenge his father’s crappy childhood, pumps his fist in the air. “Damn cops!” he yells. “What about the trucks?”

“Bah,” Thaddeus scowls. “They’ll never get past my Security Force.”

They watch as the gunship passes over their headquarters building firing the twenty millimeter cannon at his force. Two rockets cut loose from the side pods of the gunship and destroy one of the SF vehicles.

Thaddeus slaps his palm against the window. “They’re not going to stop me. Nothing is going to stop me!”

“What do we do, Father?”

Running a finger across his forehead, Thaddeus is seemingly without an answer, or maybe just contemplating something, like how drastic a measure he is willing to take at this point. After another cone of fire rips out from the nose of the gunship, dropping a few more of his SF personnel, he makes up his mind.

Thaddeus reaches into his coat pocket and removes a small bottle of Blast-O-Aspirin. He flips off the cap with his thumb and tells Erskine, “We do what needs to be done, boy.” Staring his son dead in the eye, Thaddeus raises the bottle to his mouth and pumps it three times. Then he hands the bottle to Erskine.

Taking the bottle, Erskine considers what his father is asking him to do. After much deliberation, he finally says, “The kids used to call me foreskin. They would throw me into the locker room shower after school because they said I carried a lot of germs. Ironic, huh?”

Erskine pumps the aspirin into his mouth three times.

His father says, “Now it is.” He takes his boy by the shoulders. “You must get out of here alive. Let them arrest you if you can. Just make sure you get back to the city.”

“Yes, Father. I will. I’ll show them. All of them.”

“That’s my boy.”

To be continued...