3: Brinkman - Move Along The Platform

The tunnel buzzed like a chorus of mechanical bees.  

Luckily for Zac Brinkman, on this occasion, there were no mechanical bees, despite his scalp itching at the memory. For days after defeating Professor Swarm and his deadly cyber-hive, Zac had kept finding stray, robotic insects, hidden in the depths of his dreadlocks. He shivered, scratched his head and refocussed on the task at hand.

The sound in the tunnel had two, distinct pitches. There was a soprano buzz, emanating from the broken neon strip-lights that flickered along the ceiling. This tone was accompanied by a more menacing, baritone buzz that rose from the pit, below. The air smelt damp and acrid.

Brinkman glanced back along the tunnel. The tube station had been disused for decades, so there was no risk from approaching trains. There was an altogether different sort of threat hiding here.  

Zac hopped from the platform, into the shadows of the dead train tracks. 

He found that he was not alone. 

There were two lines of huddled figures, each hunched over a sewing machine, toiling in the darkness. Down in this position, the sound of the machines was more of a snarl than a buzz.  

None of the poor wretches looked up from their work, as Brinkman wandered between the rows. There were at least a hundred of them. From their grey pallor, glassy stares and the acidic body odour, it was obvious to Brinkman that their state had been induced by some sort of powerful narcotic. 

He examined the nearest worker. There was no reaction at all from the woman as Zac touched her cold, clammy face. The woman's hands were twisted and calloused, but moved with artistic precision. How long had she been here? 

The woman was sewing zip-up, hooded jackets, embroidered in gold with the famous, square-pulse symbol of Nihil sportswear. Brinkman could not tell if the clothes were real or counterfeit, although he was certain that the company themselves would claim the latter. Drug induced slaves in subterranean sweatshops often tarnished the image of the famous brands.

"We can't have that, can we?" thought Zac, just as a guttural voice spat out his name from the platform above.

"Brinkman!" 

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Instinctively, Zac ducked as a bullet zinged over his head. Rolling to the right, he hopped onto the nearest sewing machine and boosted himself back up, onto the platform. Zac landed, facing the assailant, whom he recognised immediately.

"Hello, Ethan," said Brinkman, knowing full well how much the man in front of him hated being called by his first name.  

Ethan Tobias Schuze was a career criminal of Brinkman's long acquaintance. Schuze preferred to be addressed by the street alias; 'Bad-E2 Schuze'. Brinkman had little interest in the affectations of pretentious thugs, and whilst he took no pleasure in hurting Ethan's feelings, he was not above using this sensitivity for a tactical advantage.

Possessing a highly customised and bizarre biology; Schuze was over eight feet tall with an absurdly inflated musculature. Angry veins were mapped across his livid, purple flesh. A black beanie hat was pulled down, obscuring his piggy eyes and his noseless face was a yellow-fanged grimace of rage. 

Schuze raised both his bulging arms, pointing two gun-barrel index fingers in Brinkman's direction. The knuckles clicked. Zac dived forward as shots rang out from the ends of Schuze's duel hollow digits. Bullets made of armour-piercing bone, coated with exothermic mucus, whizzed past Brinkman's ears and ricocheted off the tunnel walls. 

Zac knew that he needed to close the gap before Schuze fired again. He ran headlong at the gun-fingered monster, throwing everything he had behind a wild uppercut. Crying out as his fist connected with Shuze's chin, Brinkman felt the blow send shockwaves up his arm, almost popping his shoulder from its socket. It was like punching a granite cliff, but the blow served its purpose.

Ethan Shuze was dazed. He staggered backwards with a stifled groan. Brinkman had caught him off guard. Shuze needed to be shut down quickly, before he regained his senses. 

Surging forward, Brinkman delivered a swift side-kick into the creature's midsection, launching him hard into the tunnel wall. Shuze crashed through the tiles and the brickwork, half a tonne of rubble tumbling down on top of his massive frame. A gritty cloud of dust and dirt billowed into the tunnel. Brinkman coughed and winced and prayed that, in his hurry to take the creature down, he had not just brought the whole ceiling along with it. 

As the dust settled, Zac could see a pair of elephantine Nihil trainers poking out from under the pile of broken bricks. Ethan Tobias Schuze was out for the count, and the ceiling seemed to be staying where it was supposed to, despite the massive hole in the tunnel wall.

Moving some of the rubble, Zac checked for a pulse. Schuze was alive, just knocked unconscious. Brinkman noticed that the monster's purple flesh was mottled with something that looked very much like electrical burns, sustained prior to their fight. In retrospect, Shuze had gone down relatively easily on this occasion. Whatever had caused the burns must have softened him up. 

Brinkman counted his blessings.

Dusting himself down, Zac made his way back to the broken escalator and ascended to street level. The old tube station was situated in the borough of Lovington; a now derelict area of the city. Decades ago, Lovington had been the location of Avalon's largest gasworks. Now long decommissioned, the site still housed the skeletal remains of several giant gas holders, dotted amongst the rows of crumbling administrative buildings and warehouses.

The evening was sharp and still.

Brinkman took out his phone and messaged Detective Chief Inspector Eavis. Zac thought he had better let the DCI know that one the Avalon Police Service's major investigations had just been resolved. The DCI phoned back almost immediately. "Where are you?" snapped Eavis. 

"Lovington tube station," Brinkman replied. Experience had taught Zac to never expect any word of thanks from Eavis. "I am at the entrance next to the old gasworks, Magnolia Street."

"Right,” said Eavis. “The crews are on their way. How many victims?" 

"I've not done a head count yet," said Zac. "At least a hundred. You're going to need a Mobile Pacification Cell too. I've caught the kidnapper." 

"Anyone we know?" 

"Ethan Schuze." 

Eavis sighed. "Just him?" he wondered. 

"He was the only one on site," said Brinkman. "It doesn't seem likely he would orchestrate something like this all on his own, does it?" 

"It doesn't," Eavis agreed. "Bujt I can't see Schuze giving us any names. Anyway, we're in transit." 

"I can hear the sirens already," said Brinkman. "See you shortly, Detective Chief Inspector." 

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Zac ended the call, and then he noticed that he had a voice message, from a number that he didn't recognise. He listened to the message. 

"Hello! Doctor Brinkman! It's Eddi!" 

Fast Eddi.

She burbled away, one hundred to the dozen, in much the same manner that she had during the TV interview; where she had first come to Brinkman’s attention. 

"I was very surprised and very excited to get your message! I couldn't believe it! I had to tell my mum! She was gob-smacked! My mum is such a big fan of yours! She loves you! She read your book and watches all of your documentaries every time they’re on! You are her proper favourite!" 

The message then degenerated into a hysterical laughing fit for a few seconds. Eventually, Fast Eddi regained her composure. "Honestly, my mum was so impressed that you were contacting me! She's almost started taking me seriously for change! So, anyway. That's why I'm calling. I would be glad to accept your kind offer and look forward to hearing from you at your earliest convenience! Thanks, Doctor Brinkman! Thanks! Bye-bye! Bye-bye!" 

Brinkman chuckled to himself and gently shook his head. Maybe he was going to regret sending that DM.

The police sirens were getting closer. Zac thought that he had better check on the condition of Ethan Schuze. He did not want anyone else put in danger, should the monster awaken prematurely. He ducked back down into the tube station. 

On the platform, he found that Shuze was still out cold, but the punishing drone of the sewing machines continued, unabated. Five minutes later, the police and paramedics arrived. The MPC team bought with them the custom built, titanium restraining mitts that they had used on Schuze during a previous incarceration. Brinkman helped the team clamp the criminal into the restraints. As they did so, the beast began to stir. One of the team produced a massive, pneumatic syringe and was about to sedate Schuze, when Zac urged them to pause for a moment.

"Schuze," said Brinkman. "Who are you working for? Someone pretty big if they can afford you, eh? Schuze? Can you hear me?" 

The monster lifted his head, drunkenly. "Suck your mum, Brinkman," he muttered. "I want my brief." 

"What about these burns?" Zac went on, pointing to the electrical wounds on Shuze's chest. "Someone's put a few thousand volts through you, haven't they? Who did this to you? Was this your employer?" 

Schuze hissed. 

Brinkman sighed, then nodded for the paramedic with the syringe to proceed.

Once Schuze was back to sleep, Zac carried him up to street level and helped the team secure him in the MPC. The Mobile Pacification Cell was a state of the art containment unit that Brinkman had had a hand in designing.  It was a twenty by ten by ten feet graphene-steel alloy container, tough enough that even Brinkman himself would have had problems breaking out of it. Loaded with non-lethal electric, gas and cryo anti-escape features; once inside the MPC, Ethan Tobias Schuze would be going nowhere in a hurry. 

As the metal box was sealed and the transport chopper winched it away, Zac spied DCI Eavis coordinating the scene at the entrance of the station. 

"Brinkman," said Eavis, between puffs on his cigarette. A bearded, bald man, five years off from retirement age, Eavis was a copper of the old school. Deeply sceptical of Brinkman's role in protecting the inhabitants of the City of Avalon; the Detective Chief Inspector only ever grudgingly accepted Zac’s assistance. Brinkman respected the DCI as far as he was able. The feeling was not reciprocated, although Eavis rarely displayed this fact.

"What put you onto this site, then?" asked Eavis.

"An educated guess," said Zac. "This area is often used for illegal raves. The police turn a blind eye, as it's out of the way. No neighbours to complain about the noise. A few of the victims were last seen at various different events here. Then, I also noticed a spike in the local electric grid, which was odd given there's supposedly nothing here. One thing led to another and here we are." 

Eavis sighed, "That's actual bloody police-work, that. You should come and work for me." 

Brinkman wondered if, one day, he should call Eavis’ bluff and accept the fake job offer, "I’ve too much on. But, I am always available, if the city ever needs my help." 

"Was that 999 call anything to do with you?" said the Inspector.

“I didn’t call 999,” said Zac.

"There was an anonymous 999 call, ten minutes before you called me. A sighting of someone fitting the description of Ethan Schuze on the Cobwood Bridge. Miles away from here, I know. How did he get over to this part of town so quick?”

 “I suppose it could just be a mistake,” said Brinkman. “But that's a bit too much of a coincidence, isn't it?" 

"Just a bit," said Eavis, dropping the stub of his cigarette on the ground and grinding it under his boot. “I’ll need you to make a statement.”

"We may need your assistance with something else, Doctor Brinkman," said a female voice from behind them. Zac turned and found Doctor Ummah Bibi standing with a grave expression on her face. Doctor Bibi was the medical consultant to the Avalon Police Service. She and Zac had worked on several different cases together. A short, middle-aged woman of Bangladeshi heritage; her hair hung in a silver bob, with owlish spectacles framing her face.   

"I think we may have a bit of a problem releasing the workers," she said 

"What sort of problem?" 

"I think that if we release them," said Doctor Bibi, "We may kill them." 

Back on the station platform, paramedics were studying the zombified workers, taking blood samples and discussing how best to proceed. Doctor Bibi showed Eavis and Brinkman the nature of the problem. Technicians had set up floodlights on the train tracks and were huddled, studying the control panel of a unit set into the underside of the platform.  Brinkman crouched to examine the unit. There were a series of pipes and cables connecting the box to a bundle of six, green canisters. The canisters were the size of large fire extinguishers. 

"This unit is administering whatever-it-is that is keeping them in their suggestive state," Doctor Bibi explained. "There is a line connected to each of their ankles. Now, the problem is that, whatever-it-is is also keeping them alive. If we disengage them, they will most likely die." 

"So, we need to sedate them, individually?" asked Brinkman.

Doctor Bibi shook her head, "We don't know enough about what this is. We've taken blood samples and have sent them back to the lab for analysis.  But we also have another issue. There is an anti-tamper mechanism on the unit. If we interfere in any way with the machine, or even with the blood chemistry of anyone attached to the machine, it looks like it will destroy itself and anyone attached to it." 

"So, we need to release everyone, simultaneously, whilst also administering a sedative, that we don't have," said Eavis, "Great." 

Zac moved closer to examine the mechanism. There was an LED readout and a touchscreen display. It all seemed pretty straightforward to him. "Doctor Bibi," said Brinkman. "Roughly how soon before the lab can have a safe sedative ready?" 

The Doctor puffed out her cheeks, "An hour, maybe less." 

"I think we can cobble together a delivery system, similar to this, in that sort of timescale," said Zac. "With the right equipment. Once we've done that; then, all we have to do is swap them over from the whatever-it-is to our sedative. Everyone goes to sleep and we can ferry them to hospital." 

"That's 'all we have to do'?" said Eavis. "I know you're fast, Brinkman. But even you aren't fast enough to swap over all these people at once."

Zac stood up, scratched his chin and turned to Eavis. 

"You're right, Detective Chief Inspector," he said. "I’m certainly not fast enough. But, I think I may know someone who is."

Chapter 4 in two weeks!

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