Above From Below: Part 2

Above From Below: Part 1

Part 2

From the window of his dark, barely powered, second-floor office, Rick Steele stared into the even more dismal outdoors, a cigarette hanging from beneath his unshaven lip. The humidity in the air was thick, and Rick felt beads of sweat running down from his temples. His shirt was shadowed by sweat, even in the dimly lit office space. As he blew the smoke out of the open window, watching the drops bounce off the several inches of flood waters covering the street below, the buzzing alarm from his phone told him it was time to leave.

There was a time when Rick would be the last one out of the office and the first one to get there. That time had gone by the wayside with the death of his half-brother, Nico Gonzalez. Nico’s death hit him hard, but his mother hadn’t been the same since. A stroke, the doctors called, but Rick knew better. No parent should have to suffer burying their children. With Luca gone, one of the many victims of the war in Iran, and then Nico, Rick’s mom couldn’t deal with the stress and knowing what Rick did for a living made it too much.

The station was barren. Most of the other operations unit guys were gone for the day. All of the patrol squad had been on the streets, mostly acting as traffic control to keep people out of the flooded zones. The entire area along the riverfront was underwater. It had been for the better part of a year, with there never being less than six or seven inches, and sometimes more than a foot of standing water. Today was a good day, since there was less than six inches to trudge through if you were on foot.

Walking into the rainy weather, Rick tucked the collar of his jacket against his neck, zipping it snugly against his body. He stood on the front steps of the station, dreading the walk to the lot. It took longer in the floodwaters, as the great flood of 2028 slowed life along the Mississippi River to a crawl.

A 2020 Expedition in the lot, assigned to Rick, was one of the few vehicles capable of moving in such conditions. The snorkel on the front kept the engine from flooding out, which was a regular occurrence in the squads. It was what kept Rick and the operations unit busy. Patrol officers handled calls in the western half of the city. Rick and the operations team handled the calls near the downtown area and along the river from city limit to city limit.

Rolling into the flooded street, Rick headed toward Mac’s Place. It wasn’t much, and was barely open, due to the weather, but Mackenzie Davis was an old friend, and she served sandwiches to the guys who were willing to come in despite the extreme conditions they were all living under. As Rick drove, he listened to an old Motorhead playlist, slowly trudging through the floodwaters. The music didn’t keep him from noticing he wasn’t the only one on the roads; a heavy transport vehicle was rapidly catching up to him.

He reached to his hip, wrapping his hand around the nineteen-eleven holstered beneath his shirt. Rick pulled it, pressed it, and set it on his leg. As the rains turned from a steady downpour to a raging storm, lightning struck, and thunder shook the earth. The music pounded as he turned a corner, heading toward the river. Surely, thought Rick, nobody was going to follow him. He slowed to a crawl, letting the military-grade, tan Humvee catch up. When it did, it turned to follow him.

Parking and crawling out the passenger side door, Rick took up a position of concealment and patiently waited. As the Humvee closed in, Rick noticed the flags on the front fenders. He stepped out, his hands behind his back, still gripping the handle of the pistol. The Humvee slowed to a stop, and the soldier in the passenger seat rolled down the window.

“Rick Steele,” the soldier called out, stepping out of the oversized vehicle.

Rick tucked his gun, feeling that the danger had subsided. He shook his head and admitted that it was him.

“I’m Major Andrea Kohl. I’m here because of the inquiries you keep making into the death of one Nico Gonzalez,” she explained.

“My brother.”

The major nodded her head. She asked Rick if he would join them inside the Humvee to get out of the rain. The way they approached left Rick with a still uneasy feeling. He didn’t trust military types, particularly ones conducting business on their home turf.

“I’ll pass,” he told her.

“Can we talk at yours?” she asked.

“What’s this about?” he demanded.

“Do you want to know why your brother’s death went uninvestigated by civilian authorities?" she asked, reaching into the Humvee and pulling out a thick file marked 'Classified.'