No Graves for Heroes by Jason Winn

Author:Jason Winn [Winn, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Eagle’s Debt Saga, Book 1
Publisher: Jason Winn
Published: 2019-11-06T16:00:00+00:00

The Columbia was an American-themed series of hotels, casinos, and malls. There was even an amusement park with people dressed up as cartoon animals. Axel blew through the lobby and made for the tallest condominium tower. The kids apparently had been staying in the penthouse for the last few months.

The staff dressed as impressions of cowboys, gangsters, or baseball players. Iconography of American presidents mixed with sports celebrities in the style of Norman Rockwell played on wall monitors. All the furniture seemed to be covered in stars or stripes. The entire spectacle felt familiar and alien at the same time. Axel was slightly comforted by seeing reminders of a home he never knew, but at the same time uneasy at how nothing seemed accurate, like a movie slightly out of focus. Icons of lost American brands adorned a wall—McDonald’s, Exxon, Universal. These had all gone out of business decades before he was born, crushed by the multinationals, yet here they were as art in a hallway.

What did a Large Mac taste like? he wondered.

At the elevator, he produced the phone Javelin provided. The screen lit up with a scan code. He pressed the screen against the penthouse level on the floor options. The unlock chime sounded and the doors opened. Axel got in and shot up to the top floor.

Right before the doors opened, he racked a round into his pistol and clicked off the safety. The composite metal of the pistol triggered the killer’s resolve deep inside him. His senses sharpened. He’d considered injecting himself with Highjack before this, but reasoned he might need it for later if things went south.

The doors opened and Axel eased into the penthouse foyer. He heard a media stream in another room—a man and woman talking. No one called out to see who had just come off the elevator. There were no footsteps.

Probably passed out in front of the tube.

With the speed and efficiency of a special operator, he started checking the rooms. Clothes and shopping bags lay everywhere. But no overturned furniture. The shelves were tidy with rows of books and expensive toy figurines. The air was cold and smelled of stale food and beer. A check of the bedrooms revealed messy beds and full closets. The dressers were closed, clothes stuffed into drawers.

Axel went back to the foyer and started a second sweep, looking for blood stains or signs of a struggle. Nothing.

“Bonjour, qui est la?” said a woman’s voice.

Axel whipped around, instinctively pointing his pistol toward the voice. His heart jumped into his throat. How could someone have surprised him?

It was a wall monitor the size of a poster with the smiling face of Ravel Rudeaux looking at him. She was young and beautiful, with long carefree locks of brown hair and freckles across her nose.

“Mademoiselle Rudeaux?” he asked with all the politeness he could muster. Seeing his target was both exhilarating and frustrating. A camera must have caught him. At least she was alive.

“Oui,” she replied.

Axel ripped his phone from his pocket and tried to pull up his translation software.

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