“Odds that he calls the cops on us or has us thrown out for making a mess?” I murmured to Martin.
“Just wait.”
The man was back inside of two minutes, offering a covered metal tray. He lifted it to reveal two full-faced black cloth hoods, blank save for eyeholes. I picked one up, felt it. Just cloth, no wires or suspicious lumps. My scanner didn’t scream an alarm at me, either.
“Please put them on and come with me, sir and madam.”
He’d lead us back, I assumed. Right past the bar.
“What about the people at the bar?” I asked. “They might find it a little strange.”
“Everyone at the bar is an employee, madam.” The waiter said, stone-faced.
I slipped on my mask, nodded to Martin, and slid out of the booth.
The music was as loud as I remembered it. I glanced around the room as we walked back, but the only people visible were the ones at the bar, and they didn’t even look at us. The waiter led us back past the restrooms to a plain unmarked door, and opened it without hesitation. He bowed, making an ‘after you’ gesture.
I nodded my thanks, and moved in. Martin followed, and the door shut behind us, cutting off the music. A glance around showed a storeroom, lit by a single dangling bulb. The walls were lined with cloth, and my scanner flashed a SIGNAL BLOCKED message to my glasses. Heartening, that. No way to spy on us electronically.
There were three simple steel chairs in the center of the room, set between racks and shelves of cleaning supplies and other sundries. I chose one, and folded myself into it.
After a moment a door on the other end of the room opened, and the man we were here to meet oozed in.
Five foot ten or so, a hair shorter than me. Face and head obscured by a cloth hood just like my own. A bit pudgy, but not unreasonably so, he wore a business suit similar to Martin’s.
He would have been just another man on the street, save for the hood, and the fact that I could see right through him. His body shimmered and roiled, mostly-translucent with a faint oiliness to it that suggested a chemical spill. He left slimy footprints on the concrete floor as he walked, but as I watched each one started shrinking as soon as it appeared, returning to wherever it had come from.
“Good evening,” the oozy figure said. His voice was a bit burbly. “As this is our first time doing business, I’m obliged to tell you that you are under no requirement to tell me your name.”
“Her name is Dire. Doctor Dire.” Martin said. I shot a look his way, but his face was unreadable beneath his hood. Had Martin just given up an advantage?
I thought not. He’d spent his whole life negotiating and selling illegal goods and services. I decided to have a little faith in him.
“Ah. That too is acceptable.” There was a pause, and the figure considered me. “You’re quite the busy woman, Doctor.”
I nodded. “Yes. Her time is both valuable and short, so let us skip directly to the business at hand.”
A nod, and I got the feeling he was pleased. “We’re of the same mind, then. Very well.” He took a seat, and Martin sat as well. “The job is a simple hijacking. In two days, a convoy will leave a facility belonging to Morgenstern Incorporated. It will travel west out of the city. Before it leaves the outskirts of Icon City, you and the rest of your team will retrieve a valuable piece of cargo from one of the vehicles. Is this job within your capabilities?”
Morgenstern Incorporated... the second-biggest technological firm in the city, run by the multi-billionaire Aegon Morgenstern, third and last of his line. I’d considered robbing him once, dropped the idea. For a non-metahuman, he’d accomplished much. His company was known for both philanthropy and an utter ruthlessness, particularly when it came to security. Villains had tried to steal his tech before. Some had succeeded, but never for long, and never without price.
But to express doubt would be to weaken my bargaining position. So instead, I snorted. “Did you see the six-o-clock news? That should answer your question right there.”
He nodded again. “Very well. Do you have questions?”
“Yes. What sort of security will the convoy have?”
“At least a dozen guards, spaced throughout three vehicles. Top of the line civilian weaponry, though not up to mil-spec levels. No known metahuman presence at this time. You and your team should be the only supers on the field.”
“Twice now you’ve mentioned a team,” I said. “Who are they?”
“Other discriminating professionals, similar to yourself. You’ll understand if I don’t give names until you’ve accepted the job.”
“Only fair,” I mused. “Nature of the cargo?”
“We’re paying for discretion and confidentiality. The cargo is in a container that should remain sealed, for your own safety, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”
I didn’t like that, but I let it pass.
“Where is it to be delivered, after we secure it?”
“You will be given a phone number. After the cargo is secured, call the number and we’ll give you an address for the hand-off. That’s when you’ll receive the rest of your payment.”
Seemed like a good idea, though it did put a fair amount of power in their court. Whoever this man was working for, they were maximizing plausible deniability and minimizing risk. I drew my mind back to matters at hand.
“Ah yes, payment. What did you have in mind, for Dire’s time and trouble?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
That... was quite a bit more than the small amounts I’d made with my weekly bank-hacks. I’d been unable to dip too far, due to the priority of avoiding detection. Two-hundred thousand was a good couple of month’s work. It wasn’t all of what I needed, of course, but it was a good start. I opened my mouth to accept the offer—
“Five hundred thousand,” Martin said.
What?
“Please,” the businessman said. “Don’t waste my time.”
“You’re wasting hers,” Martin said. “Two hundred thousand is chump change.”
“For a power-armored mercenary without power armor? I’m being kind, here.”
“Oh, she has armor.” I said. “It will be used on the job. If you can meet her price.”
“And yet I saw a suit being hauled out of the Courthouse on a forklift, on the evening news. The MRB likely has it now, Doctor.”
I let out a cold chuckle. “What they have is a charred husk. After completing her mission, Dire utilized the escape teleporter, and the armor bricked itself as designed.”
Half-lie, half-truth. I didn’t want anyone else finding out the armor had been a drone, but it had been rigged with a non-explosive self-destruct in the form of EMP charges. Enough time away from my virtual harness’ signal, and the charges were programmed to detonate and destroy the electronics. I’d set the limit to three minutes away from the signal. I had no doubt that it had wiped, as planned.
“An impressive feat, if true,” the businessman said. “If you have another suit to bring to the table, I could see increasing the fee... but if we’re taking into consideration the day’s actions, there’s also the issue that you’re somewhat hot property. The FBI and Icon City’s other authorities and heroes are looking for you, Doctor. I’m afraid I couldn’t offer more than... Two-hundred and fifty thousand.”
“Four hundred thousand,” Martin said. “Job like this is high-profile, and Morgenstern’s got pull. Yeah she’s hot, but the sort of risky shit you’re offering would just make her hotter. Since it would end with the authorities on our asses anyway, your worries are kind of moot.”
“It’s not the hunt afterward that I’m concerned about, it’s the possibility of authorities interfering during the mission. Especially if you exhibit the same sort of head-on tactics that you did during your assault on the courthouse. Three-hundred thousand is the highest I can reasonably go, here.”
“Yeah, funny thing ’bout that,” Martin said. “You want it hit before it leaves the outskirts, and you say there ain’t no
confirmed metahuman presence, but this is Icon City. Shit like this, you’re gonna get heroes. So we’re gonna go up against heroes, and next to that, who the fuck cares about the authorities? So we already got one guaranteed super-fight on our hands with this. You know it, I know it, and Dire here? She knew it before she walked in the damn door. Supergenius, man. You ain’t just getting a suit of power armor that can wreck a tank in a fistfight, you’re getting a brain makes Einstein holler in his grave.”
The suit actually didn’t have the strength to punch out a tank, but instinct told me that now was not the time to correct Martin.
The businessman folded his arms, considered us for a minute, then nodded. “Three-hundred and fifty-thousand. Take it or leave it.”
Martin looked to me, I looked to him, and nodded. “Dire finds that acceptable for the task requested.”
The businessman nodded. “Very well, then.” He reached up under his hood, and withdrew a memory stick. “You’ll find the details of the convoy and the cargo here, along with contact numbers for myself and also for the rest of your teammates. Also included is the account number and access code for your down payment. With your negotiation, the down payment will be... roughly seven percent. A bit less. Give me an hour and I’ll notify your teammates of your name, advertised capabilities, and contact number. I assume you have one?”
I recited the number for one of my burner phones. He recited it back, and offered the stick. “Thank you, Doctor. I wish you luck with this venture.”
I took it and handed it to Martin without looking. “And she wishes you luck with yours, whatever they may be.”
He turned and left without another word, and I took that as my cue to do the same. As I opened the door, we were met again by the waiter, who offered the metal tray in one hand. “Your masks, please?”
I waited until the other door shut behind me and the businessman was gone, before removing mine and placing it on the tray. Martin did the same, and the man covered them, smiled, and set the lid on the tray with a ‘clink’. “Thank you for your patronage,” he said, bowing and gesturing towards the door.
I offered a tight smile, before following the unspoken request to depart. Martin lagged behind, and shot me a look before we hit the door. “Uh, about what we discussed...”
“Still want her to bring the car around?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“All right. Wait here.”
Night had fallen over Barside when I departed, and the crowds were mainly indoors, getting merrily inebriated and tucking into dinner. My stomach rumbled as it reminded me that I hadn’t eaten, and I gritted my teeth and ignored it. I’d gone hungry for days while I was on the run, recovering from my ordeal in the WEB base and trying to lose myself in the chaos that followed the aftermath of Y2K. This was a minor setback compared to the troubles that I’d already fought through.
Every day I survived and was free, was another day that I grew stronger. Every day that I won and achieved small goals, was a step toward my larger goal. I had time and I had patience, and I was smart enough to use both of these advantages to their full potential.
And now I had somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty grand awaiting me, with fourteen times that if I completed the job successfully. I needed to talk over the ramifications of this job with Martin. I had questions that would have been imprudent to ask within the restaurant.
It was evidently peak hour for Barside, as the parking garage signs declared it full. The elevator in the parking garage took me up to the appropriate floor, as I mused on the day’s events. It had been exhausting, to tell the truth. I was looking forward to getting back to the lair and soaking in the hot tub for a while. Perhaps Martin would join me? The shows I had watched indicated that was a social thing to do. Although, half of them seemed to use it as a romantic driver, particularly when only two people were involved. I didn’t know if I wanted to pursue that option with Martin. Honestly, catching up with the rest of humanity in regards to popular culture and social customs was more of a chore than I’d expected. Initiating a romance, even if he was willing, would be more of a strain then I wanted to take on at this time. I was smart enough to realize that there were so, so many ways it could go wrong, and that super-genius or no, if I messed it up, then the consequences could be catastrophic.
No. Better off friends. Friends I knew, friends I could do. Lovers were an unknown quantity.
Pity, though. From the little I’d seen when he changed there was a pretty good body under those clothes, and my biology insisted on informing me that mating was a thing I should be doing. Ah well. Save that experiment for when I had a more secure base, and enough social contacts that I could afford to lose one.
A final nod as I reached my decision, and the elevator doors hummed open. The lights were out, and I found that strange.
Puzzlement turned to panic, as someone tried to shoot me.
CHAPTER 4: BULLETS AND BASTARDS
“Weird as the costume life is, sometimes you gotta take a step back and realize that not everything you run into is about you. Sometimes shit just happens, man.”
--Ballista, Independent hero active within Icon City from 1999-2008
CRACK!
A flare of light in the darkened garage showed muzzle flash from the second shot. I realized that I was in a lit box in the middle of the dark, and my luck couldn’t hold forever so I dove out of the elevator, heading low. The bullet clipped a car to my left, sent up sparks, followed in a microsecond by a second CRACK, and I was on the ground and scrabbling out of the light. I moved low and fast, briefcase tangled in my skirt before I slid it across the ground under a car, and half-crawled, half-skittered after it.
I was out of the light, and behind cover. I breathed hard, reached under the car, and pulled the briefcase back to me as the echoes of the shot faded in the garage. They faded quickly. Silenced? Yes. That sounded likely. Silenced pistols.
Voices rose, angry and male, but I ignored them for the moment as I cracked open the briefcase, and reached inside until my fingers touched ceramic-steel. I withdrew my find, pulled my glasses off with my free hand, and jammed my mask over my face.
Pneumatics tickled as it locked into place, and darkness turned to light as the operating system hummed to life.
Hot panic ebbed, replaced by cold rage.
I didn’t know who, but someone was going to pay for this.
I considered the array of gadgets in the case. The scanner was still going, since I’d neglected to turn it off. Might as well leave it on, if they were using a tactical net then that would give me options there. After another thought, I withdrew the universal remote, my pistol, two magazines, and a flashpak. I considered the taser, then shook my head and shut the case, slid it back under the car.
Whoever they were, they’d opened with lethal force, a violation of the unwritten rules that limited wasteful escalation by heroes and villains. In this case, my use of lethal force would be acceptable; it was basically self-defense.
My mask informed me that it was at 100% synchronization, and I glanced up. Still a darkened parking garage, but I could see it clearly, as if my mask was invisible. This was due to the sensors on the outside of the mask recording the world around it, and displaying it on every visible surface inside. The net effect was to render the mask translucent to my vision. But that wasn’t the reason I’d masked up.
“Nightvision,” I whispered, and the garage went from shadowy and full of ill-defined shapes, to clear as day, with only a hint of greenshift.
“You get her?” A voice said, off to my right. “I don’t know how the fuck she called that elevator without you spotting it.” A male voice, perhaps a hundred feet from me. I crouched down, looked under the cars.
“Hey, I was watching!” Sounded younger than the first one. I saw motion, what looked like two sets of legs, and decent shoes. “Don’t fucking imply—”
“Shut it. Vince, you took the shot. Go over there and confirm.” A third voice, out of my sight. Behin
d one of the pillars, or the other row of cars? Maybe. Couldn’t rule out the ramp’s slope cutting him out of my sight, either.
So. Three people, presumably all armed. Upslope from me, sheltered by the grade and a plethora of objects usable as cover.
Not for the first time, I regretted the loss of my first power armored suit, and the pocket-sized forcefield generator that my old self had built. That thing could stop about twenty bullets before the charge was drained, and it had stopped far more when I’d wired it into the suit’s generator core. With it, taking out three hostiles would be a snap. But the components to replicate that model were rare, and impossible to get without a lot of money and the right connections. I hadn’t been able to build a replacement, not with the decoy suit and the true armor taking the bulk of my funds. The best I could do was a toaster-sized component that required a ton of power to operate, and worked half as well.
Clicking sounds, and a white disk appeared on the ground, and danced downslope. A flashlight beam, by the looks of it. So I had nightvision and they didn’t? Good to know.
I removed my shoes, set them next to the briefcase. Stealth and offense, those would be the best way to proceed. Still, three of them were bad odds, and the first shot would give away my position.
Unless...
The sound of footsteps, as the flashlight swept down the center aisle to the elevator, danced to either side, skirting me by six feet. “No bloodstains,” young voice said.
I gripped my gun in my right hand, pulled out the universal remote with my left, and pointed it upslope, waving it around until the words COMPATIBLE VEHICLE appeared in my HUD. I maneuvered the cursor over via the thumbswitch, until the CAR ALARM option was highlighted, and took a deep breath. One good distraction, then I could pop out, kill the young one and relocate, moving while the noise and lights covered my actions. Then I’d need to hunt down the others, get sight on them quickly and shoot first. Simple.
I took another breath for courage, lowered my thumb to the button—
Gunshots, from below. More silenced pistols, and the dull thunder of a shotgun, quite unsilenced.
DIRE : SEED (The Dire Saga Book 2) Page 5
