X-Squad Pawn City (The Mods & Mayhem Series Book 2)

by Hannibal Adofo

  “We’re trapped like fucking rats in here,” Annalise said, looking around the room to four walls and no windows and an empty closet, and a knock on the wall revealed there was nothing but cement behind it. “Expect a hail of bullets at any moment.”

  Bishop said nothing, but slapped another clip into his shotgun and unloaded the whole thing into a circle on the floor. He stomped the circle with his boot until he made a hole. “Lady wants a way out. Lady gets a way out.”

  Annalise helped Ferris drop through the hole before turning around and addressing Bishop. “You coming?”

  “One sec.”

  Bishop pulled a mine from his pack and set it for motion detection before placing it next to the door.

  He dropped through the floor to join Annalise and Ferris.

  Annalise pulled out a device. “I’m calling for backup.”

  “Hold that, soldier,” Ferris ordered her. “We don’t have time to wait for backup. By the time they get here, we’ll be dead at the hands of these assholes. So let’s lock and load and go get some payback.”

  Bishop thought it wasn’t the smartest move, but, “fuck it. He was down for whatever.

  They raced to the end of the hall as an explosion went off above their heads. Someone had tripped the mine in the room. Bishop smiled at the thought of them being blown to pieces.

  The three of them burst into the hallway, running through the wreckage and flames left by the ongoing battle while firing their weapons with significant heat. They dropped four enemy soldiers before any of them realized what had happened. One turned and leveled his gun at them, but he was ripped apart by bullets before he could manage to fire a shot.

  They swept the rest of the second floor, finding nothing but more dead bodies.

  “We still have two more floors to cover. Maybe there will be more of those fuckers for us to kill,” Ferris said.

  “Sure you don’t want to get a medic?” Annalise said. “Those burns looked bad.”

  “They’ll still be bad after we clear this building,” Ferris told her, then looked at Bishop, “You up for some more, Mason?”

  Bishop smiled. “I was born ready, lieutenant.”

  “Let’s do this.”

  The third floor was clear. On the fourth, a lone woman sporting a handgun burst out of a room yelling obscenities they couldn’t understand and firing her weapon though it was useless against their armor. Annalise cut her down with a barrage of bullets and kept on moving.

  Bishop kicked in the door of the woman’s apartment and saw quick movement to his left. He spun and was about to pull the trigger, but stopped when he saw who they were.

  Huddled in the corner were five children.

  Bishop froze and lowered his weapon.

  Ferris entered the room and laid eyes on the kids then turned his sights on Bishop.

  “Why did you hold your fire, soldier?”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “Damn right I am.”

  “They’re kids.”

  “You see kids, I see future enemies of the people looking to take vengeance for the death of their mother,” Ferris said. “You wait until an armed man fires on you before you use your weapon?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Damn straight. Maybe it’s years down the road instead of seconds, but it is still only a matter of time before these ‘kids’ are shooting at you.”

  Bishop raised his weapon, but then stopped.

  “Sorry, sir. I’m not interested in the business of killing kids.”

  Ferris drew his sidearm and put it up against Bishop’s temple. “You seriously need to think long and hard about what type of business you think you’re in, son.”

  “I know my job, sir.”

  “Fuck your job, Mason,” Ferris said. “This is about much bigger things than the job. You’ve seen the same world I’ve seen; you know it needs to be cleansed of the filth. The question is, are you a man who is just doing a job or are you one of the many who will be wiped off the face of the planet? You decide.”

  Bishop didn’t answer. Didn’t want to.

  “Last chance, soldier. I gave you an order, and you need to follow it through to the letter.”

  Bishop dropped his gun on the ground.

  “Pull that trigger and I’ll end you, sir,” Annalise said as she entered the room, pointing her gun directly at Ferris.

  Ferris lowered his gun. “Congratulations, Mason. You passed.”

  “Excuse me?” Bishop said.

  “It’s important to me to see what kind of people I have. Had you slaughtered those children, I could not have had you in my unit. In fact, if you had slaughtered those children, you would have been thrown out of my unit. And you would have spent the rest of your life in prison.”

  Annalise lowered her weapon, relieved. “That was a ruse, sir? You sounded very convincing.”

  “It’s easy to sound sincere when you are,” Ferris said as he spun and put a bullet between Annalise’s eyes. She fell back like a plank. Hands stiff at her side. Eyes rolled back in her head.

  Ferris then changed direction and aimed his gun at Bishop, but Bishop knocked the gun aside, sending the shot into the wall. Bishop grabbed the gun and kicked Ferris in the knee. He elbowed him in his scorched face and then twisted his arm until Ferris dropped the gun, but even with the gun on the ground, Bishop kept twisting his arm, hoping it would break.

  He knew Ferris wouldn’t stop until it snapped.

  Ferris went for the shotgun behind his back with his left hand, forcing Bishop to stop putting pressure on his arm. Bishop grabbed the shotgun and forced it downward as Ferris fired, making a plate-sized hole in the floor.

  Bishop pulled the gun away and smacked Ferris across the temple with it. Ferris hit the floor and Bishop aimed his shotgun at him.

  “You mind telling me what the hell is going on here, soldier?”

  Bishop kept the shotgun on Ferris and looked up to see another lieutenant, Grieves, standing at the doorway.

  “He killed Annalise,” Bishop said.

  Grieves pointed at the body on the floor. “That Annalise?”

  Bishop nodded.

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He wanted me to kill children, I refused, and she backed me up,” Bishop said.

  Grieves pointed to the kids still huddled in the corner. “These children?”

  “Yes.”

  “These children right here?”

  Bishop hesitated and swallowed a lump in his throat. Something was wrong. He could feel it. “Yes, sir.”

  Grieves brought up the machine gun held magnetically to his side and sprayed the kids with bullets, killing them all.

  Bishop swung the shotgun toward Grieves, but took a burst in the chest for his trouble. The armor took the brunt of the blow, but the impact still threw him backward.

  He looked up to see both Grieves and Ferris pointing their guns down at him.

  “How unfortunate,” Ferris said. “I thought you might make a worthy follower for the Lord Inferno.”

  Other voices filled the room before they could finish Bishop off. A captain entered the room and asked what the hell was going on.

  “This man went rogue, started killing children,” Ferris said. “Private Loman tried to stop him, and he killed her too.”

  “So you were about to kill him and you ended up on the floor,” the captain said. “You were bested and you’re the superior officer?”

  “Sir, this soldier’s a savage and…well, just look at him. He’s big as a house.”

  The captain turned and gave Bishop a look he was all too familiar with. He knew this could only go one place from here.

  Bishop raised his hands in surrender.

  There was a long pause while the captain thought about it, and eventually he said, “Arrest this man.”

  …

  Months later, while awaiting trial, Bishop thought a lot about avenging Annalise and the children that were slain by Lieutenant Ferris. He had a lot of
time to think about it; his counsel was good and Bishop’s previous record was excellent. Forensics was able to prove the bullets that killed the children didn’t come from Bishop’s gun, and nor did the bullet in Annalise’s brain. So his sentence was reduced to a charge of assaulting a superior officer.

  It could have been the men who tried to kill him in the brig were sent by Ferris and Grieves, and they were followers of the Lord Inferno, or it could’ve been they got some half-assed informant that made them think that Bishop was a convicted child killer.

  The result was that Bishop was forced to kill them both.

  …

  The plane was coming in for a landing. The feeling was subtle, as the plane was well built, but his senses at this point were on fire. Bishop rose from his bed and made his way to the armory, feeling all kinds of motivated to finish the job that he had started. He’d be faster on the trigger this time. There wouldn’t be any officers to tell him to stand down or to stop him. He’d be a man on a mission to right what was wronged.

  Ferris and Grieves would have to die.

  8

  It was inevitable at a stop for smugglers, thieves, and outlaws on the run that someone would eventually open a brothel to entertain them.

  That person was a short, stocky, and pig-nosed man named Benji Maddox, the proprietor of Benji’s Boobs and Booze or for short and for the sake of the sign Benji’s B&B.

  Benji was a onetime gangster turned legitimate businessman who had no problem going back to his roots if ever the need arose.

  He had regular deliveries, smugglers and thieves whose only business in Pawn City was bringing Benji his supplies. He also had the best-looking people working the many hovering stages, in all shapes and sizes to satisfy the tastes of anyone. Unlike some, he avoided sex slaves and had no ties to human trafficking. He treated his people fairly, and they were loyal in return. Of course, if they were not, he could be as ruthless as anyone.

  He employed a small group of very large men. Stimmers to keep everyone in line when things got out of control.

  One of the stimmers, nearly seven feet of solid muscle named Sly, let Whistler, along with VP-23, in the door and escorted him to a table near the stage where Benji’s girls were performing. Business was booming, as usual, with camaraderie and excitement and lots and lots of booze.

  Benji and Whistler sat across from each other at a table.

  “I’m curious. Why wouldn’t you name this place something more exciting than Benji’s Boobs and Booze? Something like Titties and Tequila would be nice.”

  Benji held a deadpan expression. “I don’t sell what I don’t drink. And tequila ain’t my thing. Besides, they charge by the letter for the sign outside. And I ain’t paying for anybody’s titties, real or fake.”

  “Good a reason as any, I guess.”

  “So tell me. What brings you here, Whistler?” Benji asked.

  “I have a thing for overpriced, watered-down whiskey.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I assume you heard about what happened,” Whistler said.

  “Yeah, and I saw the aftermath of the attack. I heard a shipment of fuel cells was jacked as well. Sucks for you.”

  “Could suck for all of us.”

  “Maybe. You remember when that fool Collins tried to put me out of business?”

  “Hard to forget.”

  “Damn right. Things got ugly. You remember how you had my back?”

  The question put a smile on Whistler’s face.

  “Oh, right, of course you don’t, because you did jack shit,” Benji said. “But I’m not even mad about it. In this town, we’re all better off when we all mind our own business. You get that?”

  “I do.”

  “Then why are you here? Need a woman? I hear you lost yours.”

  “I didn’t lose her. Asshole shot her in the face,” Whistler said.

  “You sure?”

  “Hell do you mean am I sure?”

  “Word on the street is that some crispy critter dragged her out the building seconds before it blew up,” Benji said. “Word is she’s very much alive.”

  Whistler opened his mouth to protest, but the fact was that all he had was Ferris’ word that Darlene was dead. He didn’t have significant proof. So that was true. What Benji said was making sense.

  “You say that everyone minds their own business in this town, but someone had to have told the general where to find me,” Whistler said.

  “How big a secret could it really be?”

  “For locals, not so much. But for the ones who are passing through, it’s still a secret. There are no signs, and nor do I advertise it. Even if I invited people to come, which I never do, I move around so much it would be virtually impossible to find.”

  “Is that an accusation?” Benji asked.

  “No one lives here on a permanent basis outside of you and your people.”

  “Damn that. I don’t get mixed up in anyone else’s shit in Pawn City. No way I’m helping some so-called general of some stupid ass cult screw you over.”

  “I’m not saying that you would, but you do employ a fair amount of people. Some who might not give a second thought to screwing me over.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that, but what do you want me to do about it?”

  “Nothing. Just let me know if you come across something,” Whistler said. “I’ll do the rest.”

  “I’ll think about it. You’re asking for a lot.”

  “Am I? You’re a businessman, one who depends on Pawn City to operate.”

  “No shit,” Benji said. “You make the trip all the way over here just to point out the obvious?”

  “Grieves isn’t just a threat to me; he threatens all the businesses in Pawn City. It’s good you could fend off Collins, but if you hadn’t, it would still have been business as usual for people passing through and looking for entertainment. Greives isn’t looking to take things over; he’s looking to burn Pawn City to the ground. And that includes Benji’s B&B.”

  “Well, sure, it seems that way to you.”

  “You have a girl working named Felicity?” Whistler asked.

  “Yeah, but I don’t think she’s your type.”

  “She’s anybody’s type for the right price.”

  “Can’t argue with that. What about her?” Benji asked.

  “Ask her about Lord Inferno. Let me know if these assholes are looking to take things over or burn the city to the ground, like I suspect.”

  “Why her?”

  “She was a believer once.”

  Benji was about to ask how Whistler knew this, but after a moment’s thought, he said, “Huh. So, she was your type.”

  “Felicity has been in Pawn City longer than Darlene, and I’ve been here longer than any of them.”

  “You really think the general wants to destroy Pawn City?”

  “If he had his way, he’d set the world on fire. Considering the likelihood of that is pretty slim, he’ll settle for us instead.”

  “You mean you.”

  “No, I mean us.”

  Benji took a sip of his drink.

  Whistler felt the cube in his jacket pocket buzz. He took it out and held it low so only he could see the hologram message.

  “I have to go,” he said. “Talk to Felicity.”

  Whistler left the brothel hoping the group of outlaws Silas had sent would be more help than Benji seemed to be. He would almost chalk the visit up as a wash.

  Benji stayed seated at the table, watching one of his employees gyrate naked on the stage while he sipped his watered-down whiskey. He almost didn’t want it, but downed it anyway.

  He saw Sly still lurking about, and called him over.

  “You know Felicity?” Benji asked.

  “Yeah, what about her?”

  “I’d like to talk to her. Bring her to me.”

  Sly moved off to find her. He returned ten minutes later without Felicity, saying, “She’s with a client.”

  Benji nodded. He had fo
rbidden anyone from interrupting when a girl had a client, and he was not about to break the rule himself. “Have her come see me when she’s done.”

  He knocked back the rest of his watered-down drink. He’d never think of his liquor quite the same.

  9

  As Grieves expected after a night of contemplation, Darlene chose to sit in front of hologram being the sexual plaything for a group of young soldiers. She still refused to talk, which for the time being was fine. The fact was that he didn’t have much for her to do just yet.

  Even with his second-rate cyber-team, he’d been able to monitor the comings and goings of key residents of Pawn City, helped by spies on the ground secured long before he made his first move on Whistler. Traffic was slow, but not nonexistent. So far, no information that he needed had come in. When it did, however, his plan was to have Whistler hand it over.

  While he couldn’t imagine having anything on board he wanted, the landing of a Lionheart Executive Plane caught his attention. This was not the kind of plane that would normally land at Pawn City. A fully loaded aircraft such as that rarely went anywhere but from one corporate headquarters to another.

  He went to one of his intelligence men, since Darlene couldn’t be trusted at the moment. “Have one of our assets find out what’s onboard that plane.”

  The man nodded. “Hold on. He just sent a message.”

  “About the plane?”

  “No. He said Whistler met with Benji.”

  “The brothel owner?”

  “Yes. Our source believes he was asking Benji for help.”

  “Is that little pimp going to give it?”

  “My source says no. He also said Whistler got a message and left in a hurry. Apparently, he was headed in the direction of the landing strip.”

  “He’s meeting with the plane?” Grieves asked.

  “Looks that way.”

  “Find out who or what is on that plane immediately. From what I understand, Whistler has never made it a habit to meet people at the airstrip. Has he?” he asked Darlene.