Hunting Mink

by Niall Teasdale

  ‘Huh, I wish.’

  ‘Well… whatever. Hey, you any idea why the local dealers are so thin on the ground?’

  Sally sounded a little insulted when she replied. ‘I don’t do that shit. Four years clean, Damian. You know that.’

  ‘Just thought you might have heard something.’

  ‘Couple of clients have bitched about supply drying up. Mink took out a lab around here.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Inman said, ‘I was called out to it. It’s just not like the Kings to slow down their operations like this. Not for the loss of one lab.’ So, Inman had noticed it too.

  ‘No idea. I try to stay off their radar as much as possible.’

  ‘I know. That’s why I’m thanking you for the shipment information. Be careful, Sally. Any sign of trouble, you know how to contact me.’

  ‘I know.’

  Mink heard footsteps moving away and then spotted Inman as he crossed Stockton, continuing east along Pacific. A shipment out of Pier 80, and Mink was pretty sure what kind of shipment. It was a large area for one man to cover and Inman was probably planning to do the work himself: it avoided complications with the TAATF. Well, maybe he did not have to do it entirely on his own…

  New Millennium City, MD, 10th August.

  ‘You know I could get a taxi out here, right?’ June said as Penny walked her to the departure gate at Starblaze International.

  ‘I like seeing you off,’ Penny replied. ‘Plus, I bought the car and I barely use it.’ Having their own vehicle had seemed like a good idea, but it spent most of its time gathering fallen leaves outside the house.

  ‘Maybe if you’d bought something with a little pizazz we’d use it more.’

  ‘Oh yeah. I can just see me driving around in a Ferrari. Anyway, I think my little runabout is cute. When you get rich, you can buy something with all the pizazz you want.’

  ‘Huh. Working on it.’

  Penny nodded. ‘This job’s paying pretty well, right?’

  ‘Uh-huh. This one’s top-scale. I lucked out.’

  ‘No you didn’t, they did. Now get a move on or you’ll miss your flight.’

  June smiled down at her friend. ‘You’re beautiful, you know that? Always saying the right thing.’

  ‘I’m just–’ Penny was cut off as June’s lips met hers. Penny’s eyes widened: it was not a chaste little peck. June’s tongue flicked out, parting Penny’s lips and sending a warm thrill through her body.

  ‘Just beautiful,’ June whispered, and then she was striding away, leaving Penny to watch her retreating back.

  San Francisco, CA.

  Pier 80 was not the easiest place to keep an eye on. There was no container shipping from here, but it was a big open space with a crane that could handle the large metal boxes, and companies barged individual units in, storing them on the site before they were moved out by land. That meant that there was not a huge amount of cover, but you could not simply pick a spot and watch the entire area.

  So Damian was forced to keep moving. He did most of that at a shuffle, playing the down-on-his-luck vet in the army jacket looking for somewhere to spend the night. At eleven p.m. on a Sunday, it was not like there was anyone around to really pay attention. Saturday night had been a bust, so if Sally was right, tonight was going to be the night. Except…

  He had gone to the trouble of checking on Sally after giving up on the docks. He had heard something when he had spoken to her. Someone, or maybe something, had been above them. When he had checked back from a safe distance, there had been no one visible on the sign which had been over their heads, but he had heard something. Maybe, if it had been someone, they had been listening. Sally had not been touched, so the listener was probably not with the Kings. Unless this was a setup and Sally had sold him out.

  Damian moved on, stretching his senses for any indication of trouble, or his target for the night.

  ~~~

  Through the night-sight scope, the sniper could see the man in the heavy jacket, but not much in the way of detail thanks to the green the instrument painted everything in. His orders were to watch but only take action if a random endangered the operation, or Mink showed up. Mink had interrupted shipments before and everyone in the organisation had been instructed to take any opportunity to eliminate her now. Of course, there was no sign of her. There probably would not be any sign of her until she–

  ‘Looking for me?’

  The voice came from behind him, and the sniper turned, bringing his rifle around and just knowing that he was out of luck. His weapon was stopped by one of her arms and then the base of her fist smashed into his nose. Disoriented and stunned, he put up no resistance as she clamped an arm around his throat and tightened her grip, blocking off the flow of blood to his brain for just the right amount of time…

  Mink picked up the sniper’s rifle, lifting it to her eye to look out across the flat expanse of the pier. It took her a second to spot Inman, but she spotted him. He had hidden his hair beneath a woollen cap and tonight’s jeans looked scruffier than the last pair, but the jacket was the same.

  The night before, the two of them had been more or less alone on the pier. Mink had watched over him, and the dock, for a couple of hours before deciding that nothing was going to happen. Tonight there was a sniper on duty which meant Inman was going to either get lucky or very unlucky.

  Mink stripped the bolt and magazine from the rifle and heaved both out into the nearby channel. Then she laid the gun down beside its unconscious owner, stole his radio, and slipped over the side of the building.

  ~~~

  Damian frowned, squinting out over the water from the cover of a couple of containers. There were lights out on the water: what looked like the running lights of a boat. There was also a full moon and it did not take long for the shape to resolve. It was a ship, not a huge one, but big enough to be ocean-going. Damian had always had good night vision. From the age of about twelve it had just got better and that was clearly a ship out there, trying its best to be inconspicuous.

  Okay, so this was probably it. Maybe they were just coming in late after a trip around the bay, but that seemed pretty unlikely. As the ship got closer and Damian spotted men on the forward deck holding what might have been assault rifles, he decided that this was definitely it, and that it was going to be far more trouble than he had thought.

  ~~~

  The radio Mink was carrying hissed and then a voice said, ‘Watchtower, this is Sea Otter. Everything clear? Over.’

  She waited a second to be sure no one was going to answer and then pressed the transmit key. ‘All clear. Over.’ She was pretty good at changing her voice. Affecting masculine tones was not that hard, but she had not heard the sniper speak, so she scraped a thumb over the microphone as she spoke. Apparently it had the desired effect.

  ‘Get your radio checked, Watchtower. Docking in three. You’re clear to proceed, Chain Gang. Over.’

  ‘Chain Gang proceeding to rendezvous. Out.’ The third voice was presumably the delivery team. Mink looked back toward the gates of the pier and a few seconds later, she spotted a truck driving up. Behind it was a black SUV, and you could never trust a black SUV in a situation like this.

  Mink was betting that Inman had not counted on a large number of troops guarding the shipment. Would he try calling in reinforcements? Given his distrust of the TAATF and the probability that they would be called in to handle the situation if the detective did make the call, it seemed likely he would try to deal with this alone.

  Dropping off the container she had been perched on, Mink moved quickly to the south side of the pier, holding behind a metal box until the van drove past. She moved fast, keeping low, as the SUV followed it. Three quick steps out of the shadows and then her dart snapped out, punching through the sidewall of one of the car’s rear tyres. She pulled her weapon back in and was retreating before the echoes of the explosion had settled.

  ‘Chain Gang Two here. Lost a damn tyre. Over.’ Mink smiled at the radio.
>
  ‘Chain Gang One, continue. We’re seeing nothing. Over.’ That was ‘Sea Otter,’ the ship. The tyre blowout would keep the guards at the far end for a little while, but when Inman moved that was likely to change.

  ‘On our way. Out,’ the guy in the van announced.

  Given the tactical situation, Mink switched frequencies on the radio and pressed the transmit key. It was time to call in a friend.

  ~~~

  Damian heard the bang and drew his SIG, and then realised that the sound had not had the characteristic signature of a gunshot. A tyre blowout: someone had got unlucky. But a few seconds later, he saw a box van rolling up beside where the ship was settling itself at the dockside.

  He moved, cutting back between the containers to let him come at the van from the rear. There were men with guns on the ship and now, looking back down the dock, he could see an SUV with men around it about eight hundred yards away. They would have guns too. The situation was ‘tactically disadvantageous.’ Well… Well, if he had to shoot, he would have to do it fast and not miss.

  Damian moved as the two men from the truck opened up the back. As soon as the doors opened, he heard muffled sounds and one of the men said, ‘Shut the fuck up!’ Damian spotted the cargo a second later, made sure he was coming around at an angle which kept the truck between himself and the ship, and stopped, raising his pistol and his badge at the same time.

  ‘SFPD! You are under arrest for–’

  One of the two turned, swinging a pistol around as he did so. Damian fired, punching a hole in the man’s chest. Damian snapped his pistol back to aim at the other man, but he was raising his hands… and grinning.

  ‘You’re toast, man. You’re gonna be another corpse in the bay.’

  Damian risked a glance back over his shoulder and, sure enough, the gunshot had drawn the attention of the guards in the SUV. He looked back and saw the pistol being drawn, and briefly wondered whether he could aim and shoot in time. And then both criminal and cop were frowning as something bounced across the tarmac between them: a cylinder which flared brightly at one end before disgorging huge amounts of thick, white smoke.

  It seemed to take less than a second before the entire area was swallowed in the white cloud, and Damian’s senses cut over into ‘backup mode.’ Without his eyes to give reference, his other senses worked overtime. He figured it was something akin to what blind people did, but… not. He knew that he was not alone with the smuggler. Someone else was there, moving fast. The man let out a screech of pain and fell, and Damian moved toward the sound, his senses straining. He felt something move beside him and put out a hand which contacted skin.

  ‘Keep down.’ The voice was feminine, low, kind of sexy which, given the circumstances, was not an appropriate thought. ‘They won’t risk damaging the cargo. Let’s just hope the smoke lasts until the cavalry arrives.’

  ‘Cavalry?’ Damian asked. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’d have thought that would be obvious. Shut up, they’re coming.’

  Damian turned his attention to the direction the SUV had come from as a male voice said, ‘You see them?’

  ‘No. Definitely saw her run in there.’

  ‘We off her, Jade Flame will give us the fucking moon!’

  ‘Right, but we have to get her first.’ Something disturbed the smoke, shifted the air. A man… Two men moving into the cloud. A third joined them, then a fourth.

  Damian felt the body beside him move, darting forward into the smoke. When she took one of them out, with a chokehold Damian thought, it was quick, quiet, and none of the others noticed, but they were closing on the back of the truck. Another of them went down before they could get close. Then Damian drove his fist up, lifting from his crouch to smack a gunman in the face. The man let out a yelp of pain, but it was Damian’s turn with the chokehold. Judo was not exactly one of his best skills, but the man was surprised and hurt, and he made a good shield since the smoke was starting to clear and the last of them was turning around.

  And now there was enough light and clarity for Damian to see a weighted, silver cord wrap around the man’s neck. The man let out a strangled cry as he was yanked sideways, his rifle falling from his hands. And she was there, bracing herself against his back as she tightened the noose around her victim’s neck until he fell to the ground, unconscious.

  She was tall, maybe an inch shorter than Damian. Long, long legs were clad in chocolate-coloured thigh-high boots with six inches of steel high heels on them. The legs rose into wide hips which narrowed into a slim waist. Her chest was quite broad for her build, but you did not notice that immediately, if you were of a certain inclination, because you were probably more aware of her quite substantial, firm breasts. She wore a one-piece suit, high hipped with a halterneck, in the same chocolate shade as her boots, but with a copper band around the wide vent at the front which left a lot of chest and abdomen on display, along with the inner third of each breast. Damian imagined it was distracting for a lot of men, including him if he wanted to be honest. The vent, along with her arms, bare aside from some ancient-looking leather-and-bronze bracers, showed off a lot of tight muscle. Not unsurprising considering all the stories about this woman.

  The stories said she was beautiful, but Damian had always figured it was exaggeration, or selective memory, or… There was a savage beauty about her as she dropped a thug at her feet and freed the weapon she had used to strangle him. She had a lot of angles to her features, a sharp jawline leading to quite a small chin. There were high, narrow cheekbones and a fairly small nose with a very slight hook to it. Her eyes were the colour of aged whiskey, almost amber, and they were surrounded by her characteristic mask which seemed like it was painted onto her skin, black overlaid with a pattern of burnished copper, like lace or fractals. She had full lips, the upper one painted a dark brown, the lower one paler, and her hair was a jet-black feather-like cap, cut close to her head.

  Damian had never really seen her before, except in the few, usually blurry, pictures in the newspapers. But there she was, in the flesh: Mink. She moved, stepping closer and into the shelter of the truck. ‘Come on, big guy,’ she muttered. ‘This is going to get dicey real soon now…’

  ‘Who are you–’ Damian began, and then there was a sound like a thunderclap and a lot of shouting.

  ‘There he is,’ Mink said, grinning. ‘Knew I could count on him.’ She turned, stepping around the truck, and her dart flicked out before she continued.

  When Damian followed, he noticed the fallen gunman lying beside the cab of the truck, and then his attention was drawn to the ship where a gleaming, silver man was marching across the deck, dropping men in their tracks with a touch. ‘Isn’t that…?’

  ‘Ultramech,’ Mink said. ‘No one better to have handy when you’ve decided to take on an army singlehanded.’ Her dart shot out again, the cord wrapping around the neck of a smuggler who seemed unsure of where to shoot. She pulled and he was wrenched over to her, and she slammed the back of his head into the front of the truck. ‘I think we can let the silver guy handle the ship. There are far more important things to take care of.’ She walked back, past Damian, heading for the back of the van.

  ‘How did you… I mean, you don’t work with–’

  ‘The Stars? No. Lament doesn’t like me very much, which is fine, because it’s mutual. I get on fine with the others. I called Ultramech, told him what was going on, and… Let’s just say he doesn’t like this kind of thing very much.’ Arriving at the back of the truck, Mink looked inside and sighed. Twelve bound and gagged women looked back at her and Damian.

  ~~~

  Mink cut the last of the women free from the baton on the side of the truck where they had been tied. ‘There you go. Now, sit still. I know you don’t want this, but you’re going to need to talk to the cops.’

  There was a sort of electronic whine from the rear of the van and then, ‘The smugglers on the ship have been incapacitated.’ Ultramech spoke with a slightly flat but moderately plea
sant voice which did not sound synthesised at all. ‘Unfortunately, the vessel sustained some damage and is sinking. I will contact FTI in the morning regarding its salvage.’

  Mink gave the robot a smile. ‘Thanks, Ultramech. As usual, a job well done.’ He was, basically, a very tall, well-built, bald Ken doll in shiny chrome with glowing blue eyes as well as various glowing blue components showing through various gaps in his armoured chassis. The gaps mattered little as he was also equipped with a quite effective force field.

  ‘Thank you for bringing me in on this one, Mink. I find this kind of activity particularly reprehensible.’ Ultramech’s eyes shifted to Damian. ‘Detective Inman, I believe you were responsible for the discovery of this enterprise.’

  Damian flicked a glance at Mink. ‘Yeah, I guess I was. I’m not sure how I got the help…’

  ‘Little bird told me,’ Mink replied.

  ‘And a much larger Mink informed me,’ Ultramech went on. ‘I have taken the liberty of informing the police department of the situation and requested the attendance of victim support personnel.’ He paused and then added, ‘And Lament is asking why I blasted out of the base at such high speed.’

  Mink gave a small grimace. ‘Two reasons for me to get the Hell out of Dodge then. You two can handle this, right?’ She pointed at Ultramech. ‘You’ll want to stick around and make sure this is handled properly. Trafficking like this falls under federal statute, so make sure the FBI is brought in, not just the TAATF.’

  ‘Understood, Mink.’

  Mink nodded and then held out her hand to Damian. ‘Detective. Not, perhaps, the best thought-out intervention ever, but if you hadn’t uncovered this, I wouldn’t have known and Ultramech would still be on Alcatraz Island. Well done.’

  Damian looked down at her hand and took it. Mink saw his eyes widen a little. ‘Thanks, I guess,’ he said.

  ‘You seem surprised.’

  ‘Uh, well, you have a reputation for… not playing well with others.’

  Mink smiled. ‘There are a lot of stories about me. Some of them are even true. I’ll see you around.’ She let go of his hand and went to the back of the truck, dropping lightly to the ground. ‘Thanks, big guy. I owe you one. You can tell Lament now.’ And then she was off, running away through the containers and thinking about Damian Inman.