Authors: Michael Z. Williamson
Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Space Opera, #Adventure, #Fiction
“You started here?”
“I’ve never taken a job here and won’t, but yes.”
I pondered killing him right now. I could . . .
“You seem to have healed well,” he said.
I said nothing. No small talk.
Eventually he said, “I’d pull into one of these clearings and hide the car. We’re within a few Ks.”
I found one and did so. Shadows moved eerily in the headlights.
He made me get out first, lay the pack on the hood, and he went through it.
“Fair enough,” he said. “We go that way about three Ks. We can meet on the southeast corner, about two hundred meters out.”
He grabbed his own bag. He had another chameleon suit, and an attachable pistol and knife.
“I only have the one suit,” he said.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I have something better.”
“Oh? What?”
“Me.”
I dodged and slipped into the shadows and left him to wonder.
Three Ks doesn’t take long, but I had to shift about and change movement so I wouldn’t sound like a person on any monitors. I kept an eye out for wires, cameras, other sensors in any frequency I could find. I also relied on my senses. Gadgets are tools. People are weapons.
They did have a few cams set up, in game runs. I wondered if those were for hunting or security, or both. I kept an eye out for spookable game. Earth deer had been introduced here, and there were local forms that filled the same niche. There were also local predators. There was nothing I could do if I met a ripper, but they tended to stick further north and inland. This was the edge of their range.
I reached the point he’d designated, and found a spot to wait, and listen. That gave me time to doubt him all over again. Was this a setup? No reason for it. He could have killed me in the car. Still.
I heard a faint rustle, and placed it to the east. I’d deduced it was him when I heard a faint whistle. It was a pattern we’d used in training. I raised my hand and waved.
I heard delicate rustling, saw a faint shimmer, then I felt him move in. He had the chameleon open just enough to vent heat without breaking visual camo.
He said, “You move well.”
I said nothing. I wasn’t going to make noise I didn’t have to, nor explain that I was old and out of practice, but had been in better practice for years before he joined for that one mission.
He said, “If we move in we’ll see the perimeter. It’s about a hundred meters out from the house. They’ve got guards up.”
“Noted. What do you suggest?”
“We take them out when we get a chance. Inside, I know the general layout. They’ll want her as a hostage. They won’t kill her until after you’re dead.”
“I’m not taking that bet.”
“Neither am I. I’ll take the other corner. They’re expecting me to call before the third div shuttle.”
“So we’ve got a div to penetrate.”
“I think so.”
“Okay. I’ll move on your sign as soon as we have an opening. You lead inside. I’ll be right behind.”
“Sounds simple.”
“It always does.”
He said nothing else, but slipped away. He was quieter than I expected.
I slunk in slower and lower one limb at a time until I was on hands and knees, delicately placed. Once I saw the clearing I went prone and shimmied slowly, resembling a snake. It shouldn’t sound like a person, and I moved slow enough there shouldn’t be any disruptive noise. got right to the edge, then pulled some leaves over my head to kill my outline and reflection.
There were two guards at the front door. I faced them from the side. Beyond them was a long driveway, bricked and paved and with beautiful borders. Timurhin liked his style. Shame he didn’t have the culture to go with it. I assumed there were more guards at the gate, but maybe not.
Just in from me was a sensor wire, and I could see beams faintly in the dust. Had they been thinking better, this place would be a walled prison. They apparently had little enough respect for Randall they thought he’d bring me in, and that I’d go along. Either that or they figured I’d have killed him and then they’d contact me for further deals. Staying alive might be as easy as me proving he was dead and bowing out. But, as I said, the problem was I had no way to trust them.
The guards checked in periodically, and they had an officer of the watch as well. What I wanted to do was catch the officer with these two, and dispose of all three at once. If he was late elsewhere, they’d be suspicious, but it would take time for worry to propagate. If he found someone down or missing, it would be an instant alarm. I needed him gone.
I settled down to wait. It would be a little while longer. At least they didn’t have any visible IR or thermal filters. They relied on the lights around the property, and presumably the sensors in the woods I’d carefully passed by.
The good came with the bad. The watch officer arrived with their shift replacement. There were now five of them. After that, it would be some time before he returned.
It wasn’t ideal, but it did offer the chance to take out five hostiles at once.
There were two main strategies I could use. Either wander up, looking helpless, or full frontal charge. The first wouldn’t work. Out here, they’d assume something was wrong and alert on a stranger. Then they’d probably recognize me.
So I Boosted. As soon as I felt the ripple, I dropped into a sprint. I leapt clean and high over the perimeter sensors.
I came in on a long curve. Eventually they saw the movement, looked confused at the speed and my odd silhouette, IDed me as human and an attacker, and by then I was within ten meters. I dodged twice. They fired and missed, though not by much, then I was on them.
I hit the first one in the throat with my thumb, turning up under the jaw with a hand heel strike. His head snapped back and he dropped. I caught the second with a V of my thumb and fingers into his throat. He turned horizontal and fell, and I stomped on his face as I dove at the third. En route I snagged the gun from the one I’d just smeared.
I caught him, the watch officer, shoulder first in the chest, throwing his arms back, then driving my knee so his balls reached his stomach. I shoved the pistol muzzle in his kidney and shot, the report damped to a wet thump, like it would in mud.
I stood up with his rapidly dying body in front of me, casually pointed at the fourth and shot him in the face. The other turned to run but hadn’t moved a step—I was that fast—and I shot him in the base of the spine, then in the base of the skull. I dropped the meat shield and scanned for incoming. Safe for the moment.
In two more seconds I had another pistol, a knife and a shotgun; an Alesis. I scanned again, rummaged and found a wrist phone and a key coder on the shift leader. I decided the shotgun was too bulky, and tossed it into the brush. Two pistols would do me.
A shuffling shadow was Randall. Barely visible, he nodded and went past me, snagging the coder as he went.
Beyond the recovery breathing from the exertion, I had to avoid hyperventilating in panic. Logic and tactics said they’d use my daughter against me. However, there was a slim but real chance they’d just kill her.
My bet was they wouldn’t consider that until they knew other options were exhausted. The noise outside was disturbing, but not overly loud. They had modern, quiet guns.
So I had to clear this building fast, while my temporary ally was ahead.
I heard a crackle and smiled. They had the same cracker he’d used on me, and his chameleon was defunct. Of course, that meant he had to undress from it.
He’d closed the door behind him, but I heard some action. I pulled it open, slipped inside, closed it and sought a cubby. I found one, but it had a tabled vase in it. Across from that was a recess for shoes and coats. I slid into that. The house had tile everywhere, nice wood, granite edging.
This was a very nice place, and why shouldn’t a major underworld figure have a nice cottage on Grainne, where no one would actively bother with him, and he had ready access to banks and travel?
Randall had dumped the chameleon in a heap. I heard combat in the back and headed that way, nerves naked for threats, pistol in each hand.
I passed one corpse and one almost. He’d smashed them, not shot them. I didn’t think it made much difference now. I saw movement, and a head protruded from a doorway.
“Don’t sh—” he said as I shot him. It looked as if he’d already been wounded. My shot ended his pain forever.
It was anticlimactic for now. Five down outside, four down inside, and a boobytrap on the wall near the kitchen shot to hell. Randall was good, no doubt about it.
Then there was a rush as four more goons poured through a door with subguns. They shouted and screamed, both to distract me and in fear. They weren’t sure of their odds.
I Boosted, dropped, rolled, shot, rolled again, sprung hard enough I broke the leg on a table as I went through it, got one guy in the shin and he tumbled screaming, his buddies piling on top of him. The CNS on top of the stims and fatigue just burned me into a nauseated frenzy. I paused in my accelerated race enough to pick my targets. Two shots, two heads erupted spattering mist, and I bounced behind a chair that didn’t stop the bullets the two tangled survivors fired at me, but I wasn’t there when they did. I caught one obliquely in his gun arm, realized it was the same one I’d legshot earlier. They tried to aim, tangled in each other and I shot again, then twice more.
My ribs hurt like hell where I’d gone through the table, but I was intact otherwise.
Then I heard a muffled noise.
It was very faint, but after a decade of exposure, I knew that was my daughter. Tiny hints of noise in familiar patterns were a clear ID, better than any image.
I kicked Boost again, and wondered how long I could do this. I was eating up my own adrenaline, cortisol and glycogen, in addition to the bonus levels the bioplant provided.
Still, I’d IDed the sound and location. I had one full pistol and one with two shots I decided to stuff into a pocket. I didn’t have time to disarm the corpses but I wasn’t leaving this one around.
I estimated the room size below based on echoes and reflections, liked what I came up with, and went in full bore.
I ripped down the stairs in two jumps, into the room and saw bodies. Most were down. Two were up. It was evenly lit by long light tubes. There was a couch, a vid and a small fridge. Clearly, this was set up as a prison, with this as the guard room.
Randall had reached Chel first. She’d been locked in a bare bathroom in the corner I could see through a heavy reinforced door. She had some bruising. He’d stunned her and dragged her out.
He was behind her, had her in a hard arch that immobilized her, and I could just see his eyes over her. I could make that shot, maybe, but it probably wouldn’t kill him fast enough.
My heart turned to a lump of cold stone.
“Thank you, Kimbo.” I met his eyes. I deliberately did not meet hers. I tried to send a psychic message as I faced him.
No, girl, this does not involve you. This is between him and me. And please, please don’t try to help. Please.
His voice was muffled around her. He said, “You’re welcome. Now please ensure the vehicle is handy. I parked it a hundred meters south of the drive.” Right. They thought they could trust him. I thought I could. He’d driven that three kilometers and waited, hoping I’d either kill the goons for him or die in the process.
He said, “Your daughter and I have a trip to make. I’ll release her once I’m at the jump point unharmed”
“I can’t do that.”
His eyes crinkled in a smile I couldn’t see. It was creepy. “Yet you must. I have life and death control here. I have a deadman switch on me and a small charge against her shoulder.” He raised his gun but didn’t shoot.
I forced my voice to be steady as I said, “That means I kill you.” Would he really? I thought kids were off limits. They had been so far. But this case was special . . .
“If you kill me, you have to jump on her to save her life, with her left torso pulverized. She’s my insurance. The best insurance possible.” Then he did shoot twice, and I cartwheeled for cover, but there was no cover. I made it behind the couch, it was concealment at least. I kept the stairs guarded. He wasn’t leaving if I had anything to say about it.
Even without looking at her, I could tell she was trembling in utter fear. I was scared too. I was also pissed off. This was so crude, so inelegant. He really had nothing left besides kidnapping.
I needed to piss him off in return, enrage him to illogic, and then move before he did try to harm her. I hit Boost again. I paused for a moment as my vision blurred and steadied, the rush tingling, burning hotly through me.
Then I said, “So, is that what happened with Deni and Tyler? You left them to cover for you?”
Oh, that hit him. And he wasn’t about to say Deni had . . . killed herself while he hung back. I had him pegged. Brave, but very bothered about perceptions. Nothing wrong with that, but it was a slight, very slight emotional weakness and I was going for it. He shook in rage. Emotional response. I was winning.
He didn’t shout, but his voice did quaver. “I fought, goddam you. I didn’t leave until I had your daughter hid. You owe me.”
“Thanks for that. Now you rig her as a shield. I think we’re even.” I stood slowly, tossed in a twitch of the corner of my mouth. I couldn’t manage a real smile.
He said, “Pity she didn’t mean more to you earlier.” It was an attempt to probe me.
I said nothing, just made a sniff of disdain. He lightened his grip slightly, but I had to believe him about that charge. I could see the tape on her shoulder. I begged for her not to mess with it. If Silver could catch up, I’d have more room. She might disarm it.
He kept talking. Good. “I could have let everyone die. Deni was first. Don’t you care? Even about her? She caught them on the stairs and made a mess.”
I nodded marginally. “I saw the mess. Not bad, really.”
He continued. “I was up top by then, hid the baby and went down the wall. I figured I was dead. Earth screwed us big time, I have no problem making them pay.”
“So what do you want?”
“To be left alone. I’m not taking missions here, no threat to anyone.” He said it in a reasonable, bargaining tone.