by Vance Huxley
“That’s supposed to be parade dismissed, Beebi.”
“They don’t understand that, sir, and you really don’t want us to practice drill.”
“No I don’t, and I meant it about dropping the sir. I wouldn’t want anyone to realise an Area Manager is slumming here.” Guns nodded towards the Troopers. “Eventually you’ll have to find people among that lot for real infiltration, getting among the Plebs to get local news. You’ll get the spook reports but sometimes you’ll want a Trooper’s take on it all.”
“I’ve got just the right person. Innocent, innocuous, you’d never figure who it was if they served your caff.” Bobby kept the smile from his face at the sceptical look from Guns.
* * *
Guns still looked unsure when the first mission came in. “You’d better be right.” Guns muttered that quietly as he stood with Bobby watching the Troopers load their gear.
“We’ve been training for three months. If you don’t let us kill someone soon, they’ll start on each other or maybe look for targets.” Bobby frowned. “I don’t think any of us have scored an Area Manager, and I really don’t fancy the shite if we do.”
Guns ignored the implied threat to his own health. “I’ll look out for one. This mission should warm them up nicely but remember to stay invisible until the job’s done.”
“If the spooks are right, no problem.” Bobby smiled happily. “I don’t like the basteds who produce drugs anyway, so I’m really going to enjoy this.” Guns smiled as he watched them go. He knew most of the Troopers hated drug growers and drugs labs so he’d put this one on top of the heap.
* * *
Approaching the weed farm had a nasty touch of déjà vu, but only a touch. Bobby and Hood’s squad were covering the front this time, because Reaper and his rifle covered the back. Bobby stayed with Hood’s squad during the approach to cover any nerves from Magpie, and in case she let slip her sex. She seemed torn between the opportunity to shoot some basted drug grower and letting the squad down by going over the top. Bobby nudged Hood in the ribs. “Remember, check for the black cross before shooting anyone.” All the Troopers had dressed in civvies over body armour with a small black cross taped to their backs, chests and each arm.
“For the twenty-third time, I got it.” Hood glanced over at Bells, knowing exactly who the reminder had been really aimed at. “Though it feels weird, not being in uniform and not using Trooper weapons.”
“The weapons won’t make any difference to Bells, he never uses Trooper gear anyway.” At least Magpie had stayed loose enough to flick Bells about his notsi.
“Piss off Magpie. Since we’re in civvies, you could have worn a skirt and livened the place up a bit?” Bells grinned, because he knew what came next.
Sure enough, Hood butted in. “Magpie can’t, because the rest of the Basteds don’t need to know. Not yet.”
“Maybe, but I bet you’d like her to wear one.” Hood didn’t answer and Bells sniggered. Magpie glanced at Hood with a little smile before straightening her face and turning towards the target, all business again. The rest concentrated on the job, because Bobby had just activated the ten second count on their tappers. On ten the shooting and explosions started, but because all the weapons were notsi Bobby couldn’t tell how the Troopers were getting on.
“Sandman here. One man down, main door open, two squads in.” Bobby, no longer smiling, tapped an acknowledgement and kept moving forward. He’d practiced this, controlling an attack, but this would be his first real operation. He now had a bit more respect for the Supers, the few who actually planned operations instead of throwing the Troopers in. He also had a lot more idea of why sergeants tended to be a bit short-tempered when Troopers went off the plan.
“Stopper here. Movement.” Bobby acknowledged and replied with a quick reminder to Reaper he should seal the way out. Bobby really needed the top men or one of them trapped and alive so this time Reaper would kill the first man out of the emergency exit, a tunnel to the other side of the street. From the burst of firing that way the target really wanted to get through there and didn’t mind using up a few men.
Though it didn’t last long since the men died as fast as they came out. Instead the firing inside intensified, before finally dying away. “Attic here, Plan B, we’ve got steel doors.” Bobby grinned, this drug boss thought another gang had attacked so he’d forted up and would be calling for backup.
“Sandman, use the door-knocker. Try not to kill them all.” Though if the spook had been right the boss, known as Smoke, wouldn’t be near the steel door. Bobby headed through the building followed by his old squad. He felt relieved because Magpie had broken her cherry without hesitation, though emptying the revolver into the man was a bit over the top. She might calm down now. Though she’d not used a knife yet and that caused some people real trouble the first time.
“I always wanted one of those.”
“Button it, Bells.” Bobby grinned because he sympathised. They’d all love to have a go with the armour piercing rifle, the door-knocker. Sandman got to use it because he’d used the cannon in an armoured car and calling the weapon a rifle really stretched the description. The boom and sharp explosion from deeper in the building underlined the difference. Another boom and crack followed.
“Sandman here. Hinges gone one side. Doors still up so I’ll take out the other hinges.”
“Wait, Sandman, I’m nearly there.” Bobby paused on his way through a room full of tall, luxuriant greenery. Genetically altered Hemp, super-strong and viciously addictive and the drug of choice for Plebs who couldn’t take the reality of life any more. At the far end a dozen men and women dressed only in their underwear sat with their hands on their heads. “Who are they?”
“Plebs. They work like this so they can’t steal product. Do we top them?” Sudden frowned. “They weren’t armed.”
“Keep them for now. Keep any gang prisoners separate, and don’t top them yet.” Bobby grinned. “Just in case their bosses cark it before we can chat.”
“Oke.”
Bobby came up behind Sandman and inspected the steel double doors. The hinges on one side were twisted metal but although the door sagged, it stayed upright. Bobby raised his voice. “Just remember, you bledrin Homers, aimed shots. Don’t shoot the boss and stop after the first volley.” He paused. “That means you Bells.” A ripple of laughter answered but Bells kept quiet. Bobby continued in a quieter voice. “Take the hinges Sandman, and be ready if there’s anyone cute waiting behind a steel plate when it drops. Do it now.”
The door dropped with a crash as the last hinge gave way, and a short firefight killed the five armed men waiting behind it. One had steel protection but Sandman blew a hole clean through the metal, and him. “Can we keep this?” Sandman patted the weapon hopefully.
“We’ll see.” Bobby used his bullhorn, an odd name for the tiny electronic amplifier, to contact whoever still hid behind that door. “Give it up, Smoke. We’re moving in and it can be over more bodies if you want.” He paused. “We’ll have jobs for men who know the contacts and the business.”
A defiant voice answered. “Not for the boss though.”
“You can have a job, but not as boss. Your choice. You’ve tried your radio and landline and they’re down, and your rathole is blocked.” Bobby laughed into the speaker. “If you’d rather cark it I’ll bet one of yours will do the job for me, just to live.”
“Wait!” Smoke must think that likely. “Give me a couple of minutes to talk to my partners.”
“Two, that’s all. If you burn product or records, you’ll die slow and nasty.” The Basteds settled in, weapons ready. Behind a second door, not armoured because there were already several holes in the timber, voices were raised in argument. Three shots rang out in a quick tattoo. “Hold it!” Bobby got it out in time and several Troopers lowered their weapons, looking a bit sheepish.
The defiance had gone when the voice spoke again. “We’re coming out. You won’t kill us, right?”
>
“I won’t touch you if you’re helpful. Open up.” The door creaked open and two men came out, followed by two more who wore some body armour but carried no weapons. “Strip down and kneel.” As they did Attic’s squad went past them and into the room, weapons ready.
Moments later, while the men were still stripping, Attic used the tapper to report. “One dead, no damage.” Bobby didn’t reply. He gestured for Bells to pull the boss away from the others once he’d got down to skivvies.
* * *
“Who are you, what gang?” The man who claimed to be Smoke frowned. “Your accents are wrong. If you’ve come in from outside, you’ve made a big mistake.”
That seemed a curious response, since most of this gang were either dead or captives. “My name is Beebi, and these are my Basteds. Now why is this a mistake? I’ve got the growing sheds, and enough of your men already started giving up contacts and prices to get the business rolling again.” Bobby grinned. “Well?”
“There’s five of us, five gangs and we work together. The fix is in which means we’ve got the Plebs and the Troopers stitched. You need me or the rest won’t accept a new player.” Smoke looked around all the men present. “Without me the others will come down on you and wipe your Basteds out.”
Bobby thought about that for a few moments, then chuckled, “Luck with that. So who are the other four?”
“No chance. They’ll skin me if I give them up.” Smoke looked back towards the body in his hideout. “He belongs to one of them and didn’t want to surrender. The rest won’t even talk to you unless I introduce you.”
“Which is why you killed him. Never mind, just give me the names, locations, gang numbers, anything you know about their operation.” Bobby chuckled again. “All the good stuff.”
“Aren’t you listening? You need me to introduce you, or it won’t work.” Smoke stared from one to the other.
Bobby sighed and glanced at the disguised Troopers. “Who wants to start cutting?”
“That’s the boss isn’t it?”
Bobby turned, startled both by the voice and the sheer venom in it. “Yes.”
Venom that showed on Magpie’s face. “Then I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?” Bobby daren’t say more because most of the Troopers thought Magpie had been a Timer or Trooper for at least ten years.
Magpie glared at Smoke, a knife already in her hand. “A bunch of shites hopped up on chemicals robbed my sister. They didn’t rape her, but they beat her half to death. She couldn’t work, so she lost her medical benefits, and in the end some arse gave her weed to kill the pain and memories.” Magpie spat towards Smoke. “She ended up on the street to pay for the habit, and that killed my parents. I dreamed of getting someone like this on his own, and now I’ve even learned how to use a knife properly.”
Bobby looked over at Sandman. “Bring in any prisoners who might know something we need. By the time he bleeds out, they’ll want to tell us their granny’s birthmarks.” Bobby nodded to Magpie, still wondering if she’d really do it. “Start cutting, but he’s got to be able to speak.” As she started forward Hood and Bells grabbed Smoke’s arms and pinned him. Bobby smiled at him. “Start talking.”
“You said you wouldn’t touch me!”
Bobby’s smile never faltered. “I won’t, he will. Talk.”
“You’ll kill me anyway.” The words were defiant, the tone sounded like begging for a way out.
“Yes, but nice and clean.”
Magpie’s grin wasn’t a pretty sight. “You’ll want me to cut your throat after. Otherwise you’ll beg someone to sell you a lot of weed. For the pain and memories.”
Pure shock stopped Smoke from replying, then he screamed as Magpie made her first cut. That settled any doubt about Magpie and blood because she stuck the knife deep in his bicep and twisted. “Stop him! What do you want to know?”
“I don’t know. Tell me everything I might want to hear. Who the fixer is would be good, but anything else.” Bobby paused while Smoke screamed again. “He’ll stop cutting once I’m satisfied.” Behind Sandman five men were dragged in and forced to kneel and watch. Every time they tried to look away a Trooper slapped their faces forward again. Only one actually lost his lunch, but they all grew paler as Smoke eventually babbled everything he knew.
* * *
“Cut his throat, Magpie. He’s not making sense any more.” Bobby gestured towards the five kneeling men and the three who’d come out of the hideout with Smoke. “Do you want another, or are you done?”
Magpie’s voice came out as barely a whisper. “Enough thanks.” She cut Smoke’s throat. “Let someone else have a go.”
“Wash up and have a drink.” Bobby looked at Hood and jerked his head, and the sniper followed Magpie. She looked rough, probably just coming out of rage and realising what she’d done. Bobby looked over the eight gangsters. “Smoke told me a lot but you’ll all know a bit more. Tell me, every tiny thing, or you end up like Smoke. Sandman, I need another cutter.”
“I’ll do it.” Siflis grinned, and he really did look an evil little basted when he wanted to. “I reckon I can improve on what Magpie did.” The eight men all began talking at once. Fifteen minutes later they were all laid on the floor with their throats cut nice and clean because none seemed to hold back.
“Why did you need all that info, Beebi? The spooks will have a lot of it, and none had the name of the fixer, the contact in the local Troopers.” Sandman frowned. “The mission is to shut down the drug producer. Even if you give all the info about the others to the local Troopers, someone will warn the gangs or that sort of evidence won’t hold up in court.”
“How much do you like drug producers, Sandman? Not the dealers, the producers. Smoke told me this is only a fifth of the organisation, loosely speaking, and Guns said shut off the production from this gang. It crossed my mind our orders could be taken as meaning shut the rest down as well.” Bobby sighed. “It’ll likely mean losing men, but this place cost one and training cost us two. Well?” Sandman, Siflis, Bells, and Attic began to smile, as did the five Troopers who’d brought in the captives.
Attic answered for them. “We all grew up in Pleb housing, and we all know a story something like Magpie’s. I’d rather cark it busting a drug grower than training.”
“Pick a couple of wounded men to hold the Pleb workers here, and then top all the gang members. Let the workers loot the place but don’t let them go until I pass the word. Tell the men to burn the place before leaving, and to make sure the ultimate CEO himself can’t put it out.” Bobby headed for the door. “Get the other Corps, we’ve got a bit more planning to do.”
* * *
Nearly six hours later dusk had started to lengthen the shadows as Bobby stuffed the contents of the fifth safe into a bag. “Send the message to the other four locations. Let the Plebs go, torch the place, then head for the rendezvous.”
“Sarge? We’ve got radio traffic. Sounds like Troopers and they’re coming here in a hurry.” Attic waved an arm around at the Troopers, still dressed in civvies. “They’ll open up on us.”
“There must have been another panic button. That or someone reported the firefight.” Bobby raised his voice. “Hood, Reaper, get your squads out to let us know when their scouts arrive. Don’t kill them, just report. Get into uniform once you’re out of sight but save the Pleb gear to wear again later.”
“On it.” The two squads left at the run. Bobby noted with relief that Magpie looked a lot better now. She’d been rocky for an hour or so and according to Hood had barfed, but where nobody saw her. Two more men had barfed during the cutting in the other drug factories, because several of the Troopers had issues with drug suppliers and were enthusiastic with their carving.
Bobby turned to the rest. “Everyone but those guarding Plebs get into uniform and get set at the front. Do not shoot when the Troopers arrive unless it goes viral then kill them all, quick. Sandman, bring that bledrin cannon.” Bobby headed for the remains of the fro
nt entrance, peeling off the civvie gear as he went. Attic threw him a pack with his Trooper jacket and a Trooper sergeant’s shotgun. Other Troopers were pulling flechette carbins from the small electric van they’d found in the second target and commandeered, though they all kept their notsi as well.
A few minutes later Bobby’s buzzer vibrated. “One armoured troop carrier. Heavy machine gun.” Crusty, the other scout, kept it short but that’s all Bobby needed to know.
He raised his voice to let the men know as well. “Sandman, we’ve got an armoured troop carrier with a machine gun turret so find a good spot for that cannon. The rest of you, it’s only a score of Troopers. Even if a Super has roused his ass, do not shoot him.” Silence fell and they could all hear engines, then those stopped.
Siflis reported in. “Armour stopped. Sergeant in charge. Sniper and scout squad moving out.”
“Tell me where they settle in. Hood, put your sights on the sniper but don’t kill him.” Silence fell again for several minutes.
“Crusty. Eleven-ten from you, two floors up.”
“Oke. Hood?”
“Reaper. I’ve got the sniper. Holding for your word.”
“Hood, watching the armour in case they send another squad out.”
“Oke.” Bobby stepped out into the open, his Trooper sergeant’s stripes in clear view and his shotgun swinging from the sling. He opened his arms wide and faced the right direction, but even knowing where the incoming squad were he couldn’t spot them. “Which window?”
“Left, from your direction.”
Bobby brought one open hand round to point at the window. “Attic, tell them.”
The bullhorn blared. “Trooper scout squad, we see you. Send your sergeant to talk. Do not make any aggressive move.” Voices murmured behind Bobby, and then Attic’s voice, kept low.
“Radio says they’re reporting back.” The radio definitely came under notsi equipment. Guns had produced it with a strict warning that nobody could be allowed to capture the receiver intact. Trooper radios only worked on pre-set frequencies and needed a Super’s codes to change over. Beebi’s Basteds had one that received all Trooper channels. It lit up to tell them when someone nearby sent a message to anyone, and allowed the radioman to listen in.
