Ragnarok (18 page)

As he headed for W team, Wart linked in.

“Leave us and get to the pit. We'll find another way home.”

Veikko didn't ask any questions, he set the pogo to land by the med bay and let it take over. As soon as he left Ukiyo's weather, the flight got rough, painful, and sickening, but they didn't turn on the manual controls to ease the flight. They just strapped in and set the autopilot for speed, no matter how nasty the trip.

Wunjo rendezvoused in a small Thai restaurant on the opposite side of Ukiyo from the action, where dozens of fire drones extinguished the canopy.

“Terrible business, that fire,” said the waiter. “They say severed heads were rolling down the streets, dozens of Yakuza killed, buildings falling down.”

W team averted their eyes. The waiter continued, “Almost the worst incident this week.”

 

 

“I'
M
NOT
angry,” explained Wulfgar. “I'm disappointed.”

Somehow Red thought that was worse. Red Boots, he reminded himself. And the man before him was Little Boots, not Wulfgar. He wasn't supposed to know that name. In fact he was certain that if W—Little Boots knew that he'd heard it, he'd be dead, and there would be a new Red Boots.

“So you really have no idea where Yellow Boots is?”

“N-no, sir.”

“The reason that troubles me, Red Boots, is that he's exactly where he's supposed to be.”

“Sir?”

“Yellow Boots checked into Rüveyde Hanim exactly as he was supposed to in case he was found out.”

Red had nothing to say. That meant everything was okay. Somehow, Yellow had escaped the Yakuza and made it to his check-in point. Made it there fast. Maybe all wasn't lost?

“Do you know why that troubles me?”

Red was seconds from dying, he knew it. Little Boots could surely see him sweating. He must have known, but he wasn't letting on. He suspected Red of lying, or incompetence, and he couldn't prove a thing against either. He wasn't lying, but he had been terribly incompetent, unable to find Yellow Boots in the chaos at Ukiyo. Knocked out in the fight and awake only after the action stopped.

He had nothing to say to the man's piercing gaze. Little Boots stroked his fierce metal jaw and exhaled. Disappointed.

“It troubles me because you didn't fly him there. Which means someone did, and according to Yellow Boots, it was a woman.”

Red stood motionless. There were no women, not a single one in the Wolf Gang. How could one even know—

“Are you afraid of something, Red?”

He was so afraid he couldn't speak. He froze up.

“Look, Red. Martin, your name is Martin, right? I'm not going to bite your head off. I'm not even going to fire you. I just need to find out how Yellow Boots got to the safe house without you. I need to find out who now knows the location of our safe house in Türkiye.

 

 

V
IOLET
WOKE
up feeling euphoric and tingly. She was lying on a table, above her the sickly green med bay lights. She ran through her last memories: fighting a Yakuza woman, dying at Ukiyo, mission inconclusive when she died.

She looked over her body. Dozens of healing cuts and two robotic arms digging into her belly to fix the organs. She couldn't feel anything in the area. She was under extreme analgia fields. For the better, she recognized. She had no desire to feel her duodenum getting sealed up.

“She's up,” called Varg. “Hey, Vi. I hope you don't mind, we all watched your fight with the Yak while you were out, well done!”

She couldn't speak.

“Mission?” she linked.

“Got Masamune's head right here. H is hacking it now. Vibs
dropped the spy off in Türkiye, and W headed over to watch him.
Marks at 88 percent. You got a 99.8 percent for your sword fight.”

“Nice,” linked Violet as she let her head fall back and allowed sleep to carry her away.

The next day, Masamune's intel belonged to Valhalla, and V team was reassembled to read it.

“The Yakuza are planning to bring the liquid components of the Ares Project back to Earth. They're working for Pelamus Pluturus, a pirate responsible for the destruction of the YUP. Pluturus can have only one plan in mind—to take over Valhalla and reintegrate the Ares Project in order to flood the globe.”

Alf stopped speaking and sighed.

“E Team will see that the Yakuza are not able to bring the Ares home. This is obviously our top priority for the time being. Valknut, we need you to follow the spy that Vibeke delivered to Türkiye. If forces are working in opposition to the Yakuza, we need to know who they are and what they plan to do.”

W team linked in from Türkiye.

“The spy seems to be named Mehmet Aga, or at least that's what he told the medic. He used a public medic near the safe house for his microwave burns. We hacked the funds he spent, and they came from a small account opened from Hashima Island, an old mine and tourist trap.”

“V,” said Alf, “I want you to join W team in Türkiye and follow Aga wherever he goes. If Aga leaves the planet, V will follow. W will monitor the gang's earthly assets in Istanbul. L team will check out Hashima. Any other matters?”

Nobody spoke.

“Very well. Head to the pogos, and Don't Fuck Shit Up.”

 

 

V
TEAM
arrived at W's roost across from Aga's safe house. Wart filled them in on recent events.

“He met with a man in a black rubber business suit. The man called him ‘Yellow Boots.' The man in black called himself ‘Red Boots.' He seems to have been Aga's actual escape from Ukiyo before Vibs picked him up. We hacked back to Ukiyo and found he was knocked out in the first volley during the meeting. He informed Aga that Vibs was not his intended flight to Türkiye, but neither seems to know what to make of it. Red Boots informed Aga that ‘Little Boots' was very upset.”

“Little Boots? What's with the boots?”

“Well, that seems to be the designator for a rank in the gang. The ‘Wolf' Gang.”

“Wolf?” asked Violet.

“The Wolf Gang. Caught it when Red told Yellow off about trusting a female pilot when there are no women in the gang.”

“What else?” Violet pressed.

Weather explained, “Nothing else. Aga sticks to the safe house, no visitors except for a hooker and pizza delivery. I checked out the prostitute, looks genuine. Walter checked the pizza out for messages or contacts and came up dry.”

“More greasy than dry.”

“Where did Red go?”

“Headed to Ukiyo, Widget's on him there.”

Widget linked in, “He eats, he sleeps, he wanders. Harassed a shop owner about fumbling a deal but hasn't given any info on the gang.”

“So what's the call, V?”

Veikko thought for a moment. He looked to Violet. Violet was agitated. The mention of a Wolf Gang had her mind racing. Likelihoods and chances. She told herself there was no chance it was Wulfgar. He'd not name a new gang anything so obvious if he were alive. All signs pointed to dead. No, it was just a gang. She shook her head as if to say she didn't consider it a possibility. But her mind still raced.

“We infiltrate,” decided Veikko. “I'll pose—”

“I wouldn't,” said Wart. “He and Red exchanged some serious coding when they met. Nothing we can even guess at.”

“Hmm. Well, I'd like to monitor a bit closer than this, maybe bore the guy. Any ideas?”

Varg asked, “How often with the prostitutes?”

“Just one so far,” said Wart, “but he put the call out on the local Craig, unsecured.”

“Let's meet him there,” said Veikko.

It was only two hours before Aga sent out an unprotected link to the Craig. He headed straight for the escort section and started looking over the available women. Violet, Weather, and Widget all posted their likenesses, Vibeke being recognizable. Veikko operated a covert hack into the four other available avatars and exchanged their likenesses for Larry, Moe, Curly, and Shemp to ensure he selected a Valkyrie.

After a brief study, Aga selected Violet and Weather and gave them a bathhouse address along with 750 euros each. All signed off.

“Oh my goodness, I've got nothing to wear,” Weather realized. They'd have to stop by a clothing store on the way. As they selected appropriately inappropriate robes, they tended to another matter.

“We need working girl names,” said Violet. “The Craig numbers won't do in person.”

“What kind of names do they have?”

“I don't know, sexy names, I suppose? Like Jasmine or Jade?”

“I don't feel like a Jasmine or Jade,” said Weather. “How about Violet and Heather?”

“Sounds good, I'll be Heather.”

They chose a matching pair of revealing robes and left their Thaco armor with the boys. Weather concealed a cerebral bore in her new handbag and both kept their Tikaris securely chested. Microwaves were deemed too bulky and left behind.

They went to the bathhouse and met the doorman.

“We're here for Mehmet,” said Violet.

“Last door on the left,” he replied and let them in.

It was hot and humid even in the small foyer. A hall stretched off to the left, and they followed it to the end. The heat was even worse, as though there were a fire behind the door. Weather knocked. No response. She tried the knob, and it opened, vomiting steam out into the hall. They removed their shoes and walked in.

“Welcome, welcome, ladies,” said a figure shrouded in mist.

“Hello, Mehmet,” Violet tried to say in a flirtatious voice. She in fact had no idea how to sound flirtatious and sounded drunk.

“Come closer, let me see what I bought!”

They walked up to him and saw him clearly. The big potbelly wasn't the problem. He was hairy. Absurdly hairy. Nearly everyone Violet had met until that moment had been depilated and given a haircut, then taken Alopigaid and grown no more. Even Vibeke used the stuff everywhere but her scalp. Mehmet appeared to have not only a thicket of curly black hair covering every part of his body but a tuft of the stuff on his upper lip. Violet had never been so revolted. It took all her training not to gag at the sight of his furry form.

Weather seemed to take the sight better and spoke first. “So what can we do for you tonight?”

“Hmmm,” he purred, “come closer, you, the blonde one.” He pointed to Violet.

Swallowing her disgust, she walked up to him and knelt down centimeters from his lap. She let her robe slip halfway off her right shoulder.

“You're very pretty girl. Very pretty. Do you like pretty things?”

What kind of idiot question was that, she wondered. Concealing her ongoing repulsion to the man, she nodded slowly.

“Would you like to see something pretty?”

Oh dear God,
she thought. She knew what he was talking about and knew the things were the least pretty parts humans had. She turned her cringe into a smile and nodded. He began to loosen his towel and stand up.

He fell back down to the bench with the bore on his forehead.

“Thank fucking Odin,” Violet shouted. “You couldn't have done that sooner?”

“I did it as soon as he wasn't looking at me!”

“I was down there for half an hour! I almost saw his… his… willy!”

“Well, you didn't, shall we get on with the hack?”

“It would've had hair, Weather. I'd be traumatized for bloody life.”

“Shush, let's get on with it.”

Weather stood guard as Violet immersed herself in the bore. The first thing she saw was heavy hack armor. She linked to Alopex to solve it and move in.

His brain was dimly lit and loosely partitioned. Once inside she only had to skip over the barriers from functions to memories to active thoughts. He didn't have much in the way of active thoughts, all were related to his grotesquely hairy member and Violet kneeling before him.

Preconscious zones had more to them. Violet deleted the sexual aspirations and sent the rest as a brain dump back to Valhalla for analysis, then started looking around herself, monitoring the info stream and origin pool. She saw the faces of the other Boots men, some absurdly buffed out henchmen in armor. Black armor, familiar black armor. She'd seen it before.

A second later she'd have recognized them from Wulfgar's rescue. The men with the high powered wraparound microwaves who took his body after it was crushed. But before that, she saw his face. Or at least half of it. Wulfgar Kray with a metal jaw. And a deranged look in his eyes.

Death had changed him. He was still composed, but the insanity that took over when he bit off her hand was closer to the surface. Present right behind his eyes, seeping out. She thought briefly that she'd killed the man and left the monster. It was frightening, genuinely scary in a way she had to actively think to control. She was face-to-face with Little Boots. His image flickered out of the origin pool and on to Valhalla.

They would know. She'd found Wulfgar again. She was suddenly delighted. She'd found him, and she was on the team actively working his new gang. She would get to take him down.

Violet heard a scream. She unlinked herself immediately and turned to see Weather clutching her face. She saw blood coming from under her hands.

Violet ejected her Tikari and told it to kill. She didn't know who was in the room yet, but she sensed their shadows in the mist. She trusted it to avoid Weather and herself and find whatever target had attacked. She grabbed Weather and pulled her down to the floor, then entered her Tikari.

She came to its eyes just as it sliced through a man's neck. It targeted the next man, and she saw his microwave pointing at her—at her Tikari. She flew down toward his stomach and ran him through.