by John Conroe
“You should be running, Shussman. If you think those street cops are going to leave you alone, you’re crazy. You killed their fellow cops,” I yelled back.
“What you don’t understand is just how far this reaches,” he replied. “I have all the clout I need, and you have none.”
I was thinking he was maybe right when Astrid suddenly looked skyward, then yanked me down onto the ground.
There was an earthshaking impact and when I looked up, a container was lying between us and our goal, the metal seams on its ends burst by the impact on the ground.
“What the hell?” I said, looking around.
“The deck crane on the ship spun around and threw it,” Astrid said.
“What?” I looked at the deck and sure enough, one of the two deck-mounted cranes was spinning around, a container strung out at the end of the fast-moving cable.
“Just spun right around like a track athlete and flung it,” Astrid said.
“Rikki or Harper might have taken it over,” I said. “Let’s run for it. Stay on my left so they can’t shoot you.”
We took off instantly, at a dead sprint, catching Shussman’s people while they were still recovering from the ship’s catapult shot.
They started shooting just as we arrived at the fallen container, rounds ripping up the asphalt behind us.
“Here comes a second one,” she said, and I turned in time to see the next container tumble end over end through the air above us, slamming into the parking lot between us and Shussman, landing on one end before timbering down to smash into the cube stack where Shussman was cowering with his men.
It hit so hard that it shook the whole stack; in fact, one operator stumbled out from cover to avoid a falling metal box that came down from the top. I shot him, just reflex really, the weapon shuddering into my shoulder before I was even aware of my decision.
“Ajaya, run!” Astrid yelled and again I responded without thought, following her dash forward as another container crashed down almost on top of us.
“It threw it at us?” I yelled as we scrambled the last meters to cover between the gantry crane’s framework.
“No, that one fell from the crane we’re under,” she said, pointing up, where another container was being lifted off the deck.
“It can’t hit us now. We’re under its supports,” I said.
“Ajaya, would Plum Blossom take one set of equipment while Rikki has the other?” she asked.
“Holy shit,” I was all I could say, realizing she was right. Then more e-mag rounds were sparking off the gantry frame, right over our heads. Shussman might want us, but his men seemed to have differing ideas.
“I think I pissed them off with that last shot,” I said.
“Ya think?” Astrid asked, ducking lower as metal death bounced and sparked all around us. We crouched as low as we could get and scuttled toward the ship, moving through the metal supports of the dockside crane, making it to the open space between the ship and our covering forest of steel.
“Shit!” Astrid said, and I looked where she was staring. An unladen, self-driving reach stacker was coming right for us, forcing us to jump back into cover. The stacker swerved and smashed right into the nearest crane support, bouncing off the thick steel but managing to bend it a few degrees out of true while its container clamp got jumbled around the column.
“Run! While it’s tangled,” Astrid yelled, jumping out and leading by example. I raced after her as the electric motor of the zombie stacker revved into reverse and ripped backward hard enough to yank part of the clamp right off the stacker arm.
We were two-thirds of the way to the ship before it got free and started to accelerate after us. Despite our head start, it caught up, forcing us to veer away from the ship and toward the edge of the dock behind it.
Yelling from behind us made me look back, my quick glance showing Shussman’s people running under the damaged gantry crane. Two shooters stopped, raising their rifles, while another pair, one on either side, kept running. The container that fell from above obliterated the shooters before they could fire, but the side runners kept coming.
Without hesitating, Astrid ran right off the edge of the dock, feet still pumping as she fell toward the water five meters below. I jumped off right behind her, bringing my feet together and pulling in a deep breath. Then I hit the hard ocean, cold water shocking my adrenalized body.
As momentum drove me deep, I opened my eyes, turning my head till I spotted Astrid, who was floating just meters away, eyes open wide and watching me. She pointed back toward the ship’s massive screws, then started to stroke and kick toward her objective without waiting for my acknowledgement.
She seemed more buoyant than me, staying even in the water while I was still sinking. I stroked hard after her, struggling to get myself up to her level. It was really hard going, and I realized the M-43 and extra magazine were weighing me down. Astrid’s own weapon was sinking into the dark water below us, and I hurried to get the rifle sling over my head with one hand and the mag out of my pocket with the other. They fell free as I sank another two meters, but I was instantly more buoyant. Above, the sunlight lit the surface and I kicked with waterlogged shoes and pulled down hard with both cupped hands, now moving myself upward at an angle toward my girlfriend. Suddenly it went dark above me and I looked up in time to see another reach stacker plunge into the ocean right over my head, instantly sinking toward me.
I would have told you that I had been swimming as hard as I could up until that moment, but I’d have been wrong. The sight of tons of industrial vehicle sinking toward me spurred me to a new level of frantic and the edge of the stacker’s clamp just brushed down my back as I kicked past it. Astrid was watching from just to the right of one of the massive ship propellers, watching me with eyes wide in fear. Something clipped my left shoe, yanking me backward, but then the shoe came off and I was free. Pressure in my chest was building for release, but I kept my mouth doggedly shut as my blonde warrior girl held out a hand to me. Slim, pale fingers clamped down on my brown hand and yanked me to her. She stared into my eyes, her expression almost frantic as she clutched me to her. Then we both kicked upward, moving toward the light overhead between the ship and the dock.
Chapter 29
Our heads came out of the water, both of us gasping for air, both of us trying to do so as quietly as possible. Overhead, the sounds of gunfire and crashing, smashing containers told a story of a continuing three-sided fight. The gap between ship and shore was shockingly narrow, maybe just a couple of meters, but we could see a little bit above us.
We were under the cantilevered crane structure for the first dockside gantry, but it was bent at a crazy angle and didn’t appear to be still working. Farther up the dock, the second dock crane was just dropping a container onto the side of the cargo ship, the metal bomb bridging the gap between the vessel and the dock. Then something spun out from the ship and slammed into the crane, shaking the ship as debris rained down, some falling into the gap and down to the ocean around us.
“We can’t go that way; the AIs are slugging it out,” Astrid said, spitting out a mouthful of water. “That way, behind us, has no cover. If anyone is still paying attention, we’ll be fish in a barrel.”
I looked around for an idea, any idea. Something hit the water behind us, something big, making huge splash, and it hit farther out than the stacker had. My first thought was an actual car or truck, driven at speed off the dock. But when I ducked my head under the water and opened my eyes to look, nothing was sinking. Something big and orange was bobbing to the surface—something with a curving, enclosed boat shape to it.
I lifted my head and turned to Astrid. “The lifeboat thingy is in the water. Whoever has the ship must have dropped it.”
She looked at me for a split second. “They’re called free-fall lifeboats and they have diesel engines!” she said, immediately starting a strong forward crawl stroke toward the back of the ship. I followed and a few seconds later, we came
around the ship’s stern and spotted the orange boat floating ten meters away. We wasted no time swimming for it, finding a set of ropes looped along the side of the boat which, up close, was quite a bit bigger than I thought it would be. Grabbing the rope loops, we pulled up to the side passenger door, which Astrid got open with a little effort. She climbed in and I hauled myself in behind her. The boat was catamaran styled and the inside had a built-in bench with passenger safety straps running all along the walls. Astrid was already in the driver’s seat and she got the engine started on the first try.
She smiled at me triumphantly until the fiberglass top and side splintered apart under a barrage of e-mag rounds. She pushed the throttle forward and drove the lifeboat toward the cargo ship as fast as it would go, veering to the left to get on the ocean side, putting the entire bulk of the ship between us and the shooters.
With a moment to breathe, I started to take stock. I still had my pistol with a partial magazine in it and a full spare. There were waterproof containers carefully stored around the interior of the lifeboat and when I screwed the top off the biggest one, I found four big handheld aerial signal flares and a bright yellow UHF radio. The batteries were good and as soon as I turned the emergency radio on, I heard a familiar voice. “AJ… Astrid Johnson… come in,” it said in mechanical tones that I would recognize anywhere.
“Rikki?”
“Affirmative. Be advised dockside facilities are not safe. Elements of both hostile human combatants and Plum Blossom-controlled assets are still active and currently engaged in conflict. In addition, NYPD officers have surrounded the container facility, but are unable to enter due to ongoing hostilities. Recommend you head twenty-one degrees north for seven hundred meters minimum before seeking shore. Acknowledge.”
“Affirmative, Rikki Tikki. We are proceeding in the direction you have indicated,” I said, exchanging a glance with Astrid, who just nodded before looking at the big compass mounted among her controls.
“Be advised that Zone Defense IRSF aircraft are inbound to attempt recovery. Strongly advise against seeking aid from those forces. Probability of compromised personnel is over eighty percent. Instead, dock emergency vessel at fifth wharf north of container facility. Suitable transport will be awaiting you. Acknowledge.”
I keyed the mike. “Affirmative.”
The radio stayed silent, Rikki being an AI of few words, so instead I turned to my driver who, even wearing dripping water and running makeup, could still take my breath away. “So all hell is breaking loose.”
“I thought it did that earlier. But the conspiracy ship is sinking, and the biggest rats are finally trying to plug the holes,” she said.
I looked around and spotted water bubbling up in a few places where the highly energetic e-mag rounds had punched all the way through the tough little boat. “Do you absolutely have to use sinking ship references?”
She looked where I was looking and snorted. “We’re fine. Take more than a few little holes to sink this thing. We’re almost there; look,” she said, pointing out the little cockpit window.
I looked. We were passing the third wharf and I could see the fifth one coming into view up ahead. Unlike the other four, which were very industrial looking in a nautical shipping kind of way, this one was flat and park-like. So park-like that after a few seconds of looking at it, I realized it was, in fact, part of the Brooklyn Bridge Park.
We got closer and closer, Astrid steering us into the nearest docking berth. Sudden motion on the shoreline caught my eye. A massive metal vehicle came roaring around the path and onto the quay. Low-slung and armored, it had eight big wheels, was painted all black, and sported a squared-off housing on its roof that I happened to know contained a remotely operated GE M-134 minigun.
“Is that…” I asked.
“Ours? Yeah. How it got here, I have no idea,” she replied, pulling the lifeboat up to the wharf like she’d been doing it all her life. I grabbed the side of the wharf while she killed the engine and stepped out onto the concrete dock. She tied up the boat and then I jumped to the dock beside her.
Chapter 30
We hadn’t more than stepped onto the quay when I heard the squeal of tires back at the shoreline somewhere behind us. “Run!” I yelled to Astrid. She didn’t hesitate, just bolted straight ahead, racing for the safety of her family’s armored vehicle.
She ran up the rear cargo ramp, her brother JJ standing in the opening, waving us in. I was just behind her but took a second to glance over my shoulder. Two more black SUVs were racing around from the front of the massive warehouse on the next wharf over, heading for the Brooklyn Bridge Park. Then I was ducking into the LAV, JJ clapping me on the shoulder as he hit the control to raise the ramp.
By the time I got fully into the vehicle, Astrid was already sliding into the driver’s seat just recently vacated by her father. Martin was seated at the operator’s station for the Zaman sensor suite, the wall in front of him filled with screens. “Incoming hostiles,” he reported as Lt. Colonel Brad Johnson, Retired, stepped up behind him. “Do I activate the Ping?” Martin asked.
“Here in the city? No way,” Brad said with the brusque voice I was so familiar with. “But you can warm up the Finya.”
“Should I load tear gas?” JJ asked, moving past me toward his brother and father. Brad glanced at him but instead noticed me standing there.
“Take a seat, Ajaya, and strap in. This will get bumpy,” Brad said in an even tone.
“Moving,” Astrid said from up front and instantly put the big vehicle into motion. Had I not sat down at Brad’s words, I’m fairly certain I would have fallen right off my feet at the sudden lurch of the vehicle.
JJ and his father barely noticed, both counterbalancing automatically, like sailors on a rough sea.
“Two large-model SUVs coming fast. Thermal indicates five bodies in the first, six in the second,” Martin reported.
“Load four Sad-Eyes and two Warm Welcomes,” Brad told JJ, who instantly moved forward. He opened a panel in the ceiling, then pulled down a large boxy metal container. Squatting down to work, his body automatically rocked with the motion of the LAV as his sister twisted and turned the big vehicle through city streets. From another, lower compartment, he pulled out four stubby 37mm grenades, then two more from a separate compartment. Carefully placing each inside the metal container, he then stood up and replaced it in the ceiling before shutting the panel.
“Finya loaded, four tear gas and two flashbangs,” he reported.
“Dad, where do I go?” Astrid asked loudly from the front.
Brad studied one of the displays in front of Martin for a moment. “Head south and make for one of the northbound on-ramps to I-278,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the big electric motors. “Martin, keep me informed. JJ, see to Ajaya. I’ve got some calls to make,” he said, taking seat at the commander’s station and putting on a headset.
JJ came over and checked my safety harness, then sat next to me and handed me a headset from the wall. “How ya doing, Ajaya?” he asked, speaking through his own wireless headset. The vehicle was pretty loud and the headset made conversing a lot easier.
I glanced around the interior, seeing Brad now talking to someone via his headset, Astrid navigating the streets of Brooklyn in an armed LAV, and Martin monitoring our pursuers from his station.
“Fine, I guess, all things considered. Little hairy there for a bit, though. How is it that you all just happened to be here, now, with this?” I asked, tapping the metal bench of the vehicle.
He shrugged. “We got a call from your friend Harper yesterday. I answered it and I didn’t think it was her, not at first. But she told me stuff about you that only someone who really knows you would know. So then I put her on speaker with Dad. She said she thought it would be a really, really good idea if we were in the city today with our favorite ride. She wasn’t absolutely sure, but she felt like something was brewing among the people she’d been tracking, the ones who ultimately ca
used the original drone attack. We had quite a conversation. She’s really smart, you know.”
