The Last Horizon (16 page)

  It was getting late and Nikki decided to get back to Cybelle and get some rest. She had taken in enough action for the night and didn’t want to push her luck.

   As she made her way through the mob and passed by the platform, she saw the DJ still spinning his magic and strutting around, but the girl she had come in with was gone.

 
T
he next morning, Scott took a taxi to the business district of downtown Fluture from his hotel and left the SS-2 in the parking garage where the valet put it the night before. He got out and walked three blocks where he hailed another cab that took him to a mall. Scott walked around and settled into a crowded café where he ordered lunch and waited as he read his SCaT Pad.

  Ten m
inutes later, a man in a tan jacket sat at the table next to him and ordered a cup of coffee. They never made eye contact or acknowledged each other’s existence. The man read his newspaper as he casually sipped his beverage and regarded bypassers. When he was done, he folded his paper, stood up, and dropped it on Scott’s table as he walked away without looking back.

  Scott unfolded t
he paper to a set of car keys. There was also a hastily written address and a license plate number for a blue sedan. He got up, paid for his meal, and headed for the parking lot.

  It took him a few minutes to find the car, but once he did, he was pleased by the banality of the vehicle.
It was the type of car that had no character and anyone seen driving it would never raise suspicion. He got in and drove south for a half hour until he arrived to an industrial area on the edge of Fluture.

 
Scott made a right onto a desolate main street that ran between a series of buildings. He slowed down and leaned forward, hunting for the address as the afternoon shadows stretched across the potholed street and loose papers caught in a breeze blew across with wafts of dust.

   The area was packed with
abandoned warehouses and factories. Some of the street numbers were clearly visible on the structures, but most of the buildings weren’t marked. Scott turned on his GPS and punched in the address as he cruised down the road. He spotted the building at the same time the GPS located it on a satellite map and started blinking. The structure was a dingy warehouse with broken windows, and the exterior walls were covered with graffiti.

  Scott
saw three cars parked in the alley next to it. He pulled in behind them, got out slowly, and walked to the front of the building. A door opened and two men stepped outside of the structure and looked at him suspiciously.

 
One had a thick mustache and wore a black tank top and jeans. His arms were sleeved with tattoos that ran up to his neck, and judging from the designs, he got them in prison. The other was heavyset and wore a gray jogging suit. He was adorned with thick gold chain necklaces and an obnoxious wrist watch that must have weighed two pounds.

  “There something we
can help you with, yhamo?” The one with a mustache asked with a low, threatening tone.

  “Perhaps. I’m here t
o see Lazarus.”

  “Wass your name, yhamo?”

  “Scott.”

  The two men looked at each other and nodded.
The heavy one went inside the building while the other stood outside with Scott and glared at him.

  A few seconds later
, the heavy one poked his head out of the door and waved him in. The building was empty and cavernous. It was dim, dusty, and the lights glowed dully overhead as Scott followed the heavyset man inside while the tattooed one walked next to him.

  There was a long table set up
against the east wall with two black cases and a duffle bag on top. Scott noticed there were two other men holding automatic weapons standing at the end of a dark hallway watching him as he crossed the floor.

  “Wait here.” The heavy one ordered as he held up his hand. The one with the mustache stood next to him with his arms crossed.

  A voice came out of the darkness. “So you’re him. The one they call Scott.”

  Scott stood silently as he looked in the direction of the two armed men where the voice came from. A man wearing a dark gray suit stepped forward
, walked over to the long table, and stood in the shadows.

 
“Come closer.” He said calmly. “I think you’ll find everything to your satisfaction.”

  “I trust that my employers have compensated you financially?” Scott asked as he approached the table.

  “They have. Procurement of these items was difficult.”

  “Lazarus?”

  “I am.” The man leaned forward and stepped out of the gloom. His face was covered with scars and pitted heavily. His nose was also missing.

“Go ahead. Take a look.”
He pointed at the items on the table.

  Scott opened the
longer flat case and surveyed nine parts of various shapes and sizes that were held tightly in place by foam cushioning. He ran his fingertips lightly over the pieces that were matted in flat black, and could tell that they were products of precision tooling and engineering.

  “May I?” Scott placed his hand on one of the components
and pulled it out of the case.

  “Try not to soil yourself.” Lazarus chuckled.

  It took less than a minute. Scott quickly picked the parts out one at a time and expertly began assembly as the others looked on. He snapped, tightened, and twisted the components and marveled at their fit as they began to take on the shape of a weapon. The others watched quietly as he scrutinized the last piece and slapped it into the receiver.

  Scott grinned as he examined the
fully assembled Trinity M341 SWS Rifle with flash and sound suppressor; the rifle’s overall length was only thirty-two inches. Thirty-two inches of high-powered velocity capable of delivering death with surgical precision. He snapped the bolt back to check the action, then peered down the scope that had an anti-glare, infrared lens. The barrel was fourteen inches long with a vented heat shield. He held the weapon up and checked it’s weight and balance. This thing was a demon. “I am become death.” Scott thought to himself.

  “
You have six rounds.” Lazarus said coldly. “Two armor-piercing hollow points, and four explosive--as you requested. I also got you the Kirsten Automatic Pistol with four-thirty round clips, and four Pyrogen fragmentation grenades.” Lazarus slid the smaller case to Scott.

 
Scott disassembled the rifle and carefully put the parts back into the case. He reached for the Kirsten Auto and flicked the selector switch as he wrapped his fingers around the grip and pulled back the magazine catch spring and let it slap back into position.

“And last, but not least,” Lazarus picked up a small duffle bag and set it in front of Scott. “there’s six ounces of Black Swan with a transmitter and three detonation receiver rings wrapped in the ghillie suit along with the frags, a range finder, and an area map of Sertina’s Pass.”

  Scott set the Kirsten
Auto on the table, unzipped the bag, and unrolled the ghillie suit to inspect the items. “Excellent.” He said dryly as he set the Kirsten and spare clips next to the range finder and detonation rings, rolled everything back up, and stuffed them back into the duffle. “Thank you, Lazarus. You are a great asset to this process.”

  “
So, you never saw me, you don’t know my name, and this meeting and conversation never took place. Understood?”

  “Goes without saying
.”

  Lazarus turned to his men. “Let’s go.” They surrounded him as they filed through the corridor. Lazarus
paused, turned around, and looked at Scott. “Whatever it is you’re here to do,” Lazarus said grimly as one of his bodyguards stood next to him and stared coldly at Scott, “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing it in the headlines.”

  Scott nodded stoically at him and they disappeared into the darkness.
He watched them get into their cars and drive down the street where they took a left and vanished from sight. He sighed as he grabbed the case and shouldered the duffle bag; he had a few more things to do in the city, then had to go back to Cybelle to tie up a couple of loose ends.

 
I
adjusted my fedora as I walked around the Zephyr and assessed the overall damage to my ship. Doolie had already set up a work station and the larger RAM panels that sustained the most damage had been stripped off and stacked neatly on a forklift.

 
There was a six-man crew of mechanics and technicians working on different parts of the ship; one of them was on a lift clamping off the control surface on the vertical rudder that was torn to shreds, and the others were either working on damaged wiring or replacing minor components on the Zephyr.

 
A couple of welding drones were in the process of reworking the omni-strut panel mounts that got torqued from the attack, and Doolie was doing the final testing and inspections on the quality of the work.

“Well good morning Nikki.”
Doolie removed his face shield and ducked under one of the ventral fins.

“I can’
t believe how fast you guys move on getting things done.”

“
We started last night after you left for the city.”

“You
mean you haven’t slept yet?”

“
Nope, we have direct orders from the man himself to do whatever it takes to get your ship repaired.”

“Do you have all the parts you need to make t
he Zephyr space worthy?”

“I believe so
. We still have to replace some sensors before putting on the new panels, but I’m happy with what we’ve accomplished so far. Some of the fiber optics got cooked, but it’s no big deal, the techs are re-pulling them.”

“Thanks
Doolie, I appreciate how hard you and your crew have been working.”

“No problem. It’s what we do. I took a look at the major systems and avionic controls and everything checks out. That rudder is beat to shit though.”

“It sure is.”
I stepped back to let one of the drones roll by.

“
The subsystems in this baby are in excellent shape. I see you’ve got a lot of aftermarket parts and systems in your ship.”

“I’ve had quite a bit of work done, and I did a lot of the system bashing myself.”

“Nice.” Doolie nodded admiringly. “I don’t see magnetic hyper-drive cores very often, yet alone get the chance to work on them, so this is a nice break in routine.”

“Is this going to cause problems?”

“Nothing we can’t handle. We’ll even replace the ceramic detonation ring on the docking collar.” Doolie cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

“Pirates tried to hijack us
just outside of Tal-Seti. It got nasty and we got into it pretty bad with them.”

“They still out there?”

“No, we managed to take care of them.”

Doolie
rubbed his chin and squinted. “You know, Jase has been down here three times to see how the repairs are going. He’s rarely at port for anything, but he wants your vessel operational as soon as possible.”

“Can’t wait to get rid of me already?”

“No, nothing like that young lady. I’m assuming he and Mr. Charon are pleased with the quality of the merchandise and your ability to make the schedule. From the way Jase talks, looks like I’ll be seeing more of you around here.”