by Mel Odom
“He didn’t know anything about this.” someone said.
Then the yabos in front of Skater parted ranks, letting Conrad McKenzie pass through. As before, his outward appearance was elegant, but carried an undercurrent of potential threat, like a well-oiled pistol on display.
Skater lifted the Predator and aimed it at McKenzie. In response, every hostile gun in the car was directed at him.
“If you’re smart,” the Mafia man said, “you’ll put away your popgun before you get hurt unnecessarily.”
“You walked in here.” Skater pointed out. “Maybe we can just be dumb together this once and sort it out in hell.”
McKenzie removed his fedora. “Look, punk, you can’t hurt me. and I don’t need to hurt you.” He shrugged. “Of course. I don't need to not hurt you either.”
Skater didn’t put the gun away, but he did keep Silverstaff in front of him. playing the role to the hilt. He knew McKenzie wouldn’t want to hurt the elf if he didn’t have to.
“Silverstaff didn’t know I was coming.” McKenzie said. “I invited myself.” He took a seat near the front exit, making himself comfortable even with the gun pointed at his face. “What are you doing here?” Silverstaff demanded.
“He had your line tapped.” Skater said. “If you didn’t invite him, how else would he be here?”
“You’re smart. Skater.” McKenzie said evenly. “I like that. I guess I have you to thank for tipping the media that ReGEN wasn’t as solid as everyone wanted to believe. Of course you kind of balanced the scales with that other biz today."
Skater didn’t answer.
“We’re here, kid.” Duran whispered in his head.
Skater shifted behind Silverstaff. “Wait.” he subvocalized. “I managed to acquire a lot more stock that way.” McKenzie continued. “And with the way the prices skyrocketed today. I was able to do a lot of laundry by selling the stock to other fronts of mine. By the time my accounts quit looping all the profit involved, I’ll be sitting pretty.”
“What’s all this?” Silverstaff asked.
“He’s been buying up ReGEN stock.” Skater said. McKenzie applauded silently, like a teacher rewarding a struggling student. “I’d wondered how much you’d put together once the stock prices dropped. When they rose again today, and you told Silverstaff you’d cut a deal with Lofwyr, I figured you had most of it.”
"My team and I raided the Seahawk because of information McKenzie leaked through a sleaze named Tone.” Slater told Silverstaff. “But the files we boosted from the freighter were trashed, nothing of use on them.”
“That’s not possible.” Silverstaff said. “We downloaded those files onto the mainframe at ReGEN.”
“Not the same files.” Skater said. “He set us up, even sicced the yakuza on us by giving them the same information.”
“A little later, of course.” McKenzie said. “I knew the yaks’d crack the files soon enough and realize they'd been had. You. on the other hand, I thought were without resources. Even after you’d discovered the files were just so much drek, I never thought you’d be able to use that information. Not even to save yourselves. Apparently I was wrong.”
“Not from lack of trying.” Skater said.
“You made me think those files had been compromised.” Silverstaff said to McKenzie. “Why?”
“Because he knew you were vulnerable.” Skater said. “If you didn’t get the tissue replacement into production pronto, you’d lose everything. And in order to finance a crash program, you’d have to sell stock. If you got desperate enough and sold enough, he could make a fortune.”
McKenzie grinned at Silverstaff. “Afraid so. Me and you, we’re going to be partners for a long time. The seven thousand shares of stock on that credstick will put me over the top with fifty-three percent ownership of ReGEN.” He shifted his harsh gaze over to Skater. “Hand it over.”
Skater didn’t answer for a moment. “I do and there’s nothing to keep you from killing me.”
“There’s nothing to keep me from killing you now.” McKenzie said. “All I’ve got to do is take that credstick off your corpse.”
Releasing his hold on Silverstaff, Skater held up the credstick in his free hand. The anger was moving in him now, but he kept it in a controlled flow. “Not if I destroy it. I don’t think you’ll find Silverstaff so quick to cut another one of these.”
“Sure he would. I’ve got his wife. I’ve got you. He does what I tell him to, he gets to live.” McKenzie paused. “Just like you. Getting the credstick tonight will be convenient, nothing more.”
“That’s why you’re here,” Skater said, “because it’s convenient?”
“I’m here because it’s about time both of you learned who the frag you’re dealing with.” McKenzie softened his voice, then laughed. “We’ve been pretty good partners until now, Skater. I don’t want to have to kill you.”
Skater knew it was a lie. He and the rest of the team represented loose ends. He wrapped his free arm around Silverstaff’s neck, then screwed the muzzle into the man’s temple again. “I give you the credstick, but I keep Silverstaff. Until we’re safely off the train. If Silverstaff turns up dead, things at ReGEN are going to be up for grabs for a long time, no matter how much stock you think you own.”
Mckenzie nodded. “Deal.”
Skater flipped him the credstick and it turned through the air until one of McKenzie’s big hands snatched it.
36
Skater watched McKenzie intently, knowing things would happen fast now.
McKenzie held the credstick up in his fingers. “Gaberyl.”
A slim young man came forward, a deck in a protective case under his arm. He was all in black and wore sunglasses despite the hour. His hair was cut short enough to show the S&M tattooing on his head. Long, silvery earrings hung nearly to his shoulders. He took the credstick from McKenzie and plugged his deck into the emergency com. Then he slotted the credstick. Seconds later, he was jacked in.
“Broad Street station’s coming up fragging fast.” Duran cautioned over the commlink.
“Null sweat.” Wheeler said. “One of McKenzie’s people just slapped an override program into the monorail’s dog-brain. We’re going to bypass the station. It happens sometimes anyway. But it don’t matter, because when I jump into that dog-brain, it knows who’s boss.”
McKenzie’s decker blinked his eyes open and looked at his boss. “It’s there, but I’m going to need a DNA scan to get in.”
Skater knew the decker had read the false programs Archangel had loaded onto the credstick to lure him in. They were surface view only. She and her other nasty surprises lay in wait in cyberspace.
The windows outside the monorail car grew dark as the tram shot through the station, pushing back the wave of passengers waiting to board. Skater knew those already on board were surely starting to get nervous, and some might complicate things by becoming violent themselves. He slipped a claspknife from his pocket, opened it, and ran the blade along his arm, picking up skin cells. He handed the knife to the decker. Trey was at his back, tense and ready.
Gaberyl passed the skin sample under the deck’s built-in cellular scanner. “Here goes.” he said, jacking back into the deck.
Things started to go wrong for the decker at once. First he began to shudder loosely like a man overcome with palsy, then he dropped to his knees, his deck crashing to the floor but still connected to his datajack. Blood poured from his ears.
McKenzie turned his hot gaze on Skater. “Kill those fraggers!” he roared to his men. “Kill them now!”
“Get down!” Skater shouted, pushing Silverstaff down with his free arm as he opened fire with the other hand. Two of his bullets caught McKenzie in the chest, but were stopped by the Kevlar woven into the suit. After that, he was covered by a wall of his yabos and Skater couldn’t get a clear shot.
Trey had shoved Ariadne Silverstaff down as well, and was shielding her with his Kevlar cloak.
“Skater!” Elvis called
.
“Do it!” Skater said. He fired the Predator dry, even as he felt bullets thud against the Kevlar under his jumpsuit, hitting hard from some ten meters away. Silverstaff crawled to his wife and pulled her behind one of the seats, bleeding from a neck wound.
For a few seconds, McKenzie’s men were slow to react, crammed into too little space and trying to move too fast, getting in each other’s way. That would change in heartbeats, though, as the quick separated from the dead.
Skater knew he’d put at least three of the yabos down with mortal wounds. Seven of them were still moving. Two of them opened the emergency door and shoved McKenzie through, going with him. Skater wanted to pursue, but he knew that would be suicide.
“Stay down, kid.” Duran said calmly over the commlink. “The calvary’s here.”
Skater rolled behind a seat opposite Silverstaff and Ariadne. They had their arms around each other, one trying to protect the other. Bullets from Mafia guns ripped into the padding and sent the thin foam into the air in streamers.
Then the windows on both sides of the monorail car came apart and a blaze of gunfire followed. Elvis and Duran hung from webbing on either side of the car with the muzzles of their shotguns pointed at the pack of men standing in front of the exit through which McKenzie had just passed. They fired as quickly as the semiautos would reload, emptying the magazine tubes. The muzzle flashes lit up the interior of the car as pellets left scars on the walls. The din rendered everyone deaf while it lasted.
Dumping the empty clip from his pistol and reloading, Skater turned his attention to Trey’s end of the car. Nothing human was going to survive the hellish onslaught Duran and Elvis had unleashed at the front end.
A Mafia yabo broke cover and tried to open the emergency exit.
Taking deliberate aim, his ears still ringing from the shotgun noise, Skater shot the man through the head and watched the corpse drop.
Trey gestured toward another. A second later, the man was swept off his feet by an invisible force and smashed against the wall. When he fell, he didn’t move again.
Trey turned, his hands empty and ready to deal more magic. “We’re alive.” he said with a crooked grin. “I didn’t really expect that.”
“Neither did they.” Skater said, nodding at the dead and unconscious men the mage’s spells had left in their wake. He glanced back at Silverstaff and his wife. “Time to get you clear of this.”
Silverstaff didn’t look any too happy that his welfare depended on the runners, but he got his wife up and moving.
Skater watched through the broken windows of the car as Elvis and Duran tried to climb back to the top. The monorail was clattering along the single track below, the line of cars picking up the wind now and shaking from side to side. The ork and the troll were both having trouble getting back to the top. They hung at the side of the car like fat fruit waiting to be picked off.
In the car behind them, Skater saw more Mafia guns swarming at the door. He opened his arms wide and slammed into the Silverstaffs, driving them back against the wall as a hail of gunfire ripped through the car’s interior.
“Wheeler.” Skater called over the commlink. “Can we lose the car behind us?”
“I’m working on it.”
The door to the car in front of them opened suddenly and a man dived through, a machine pistol in his fist. He rolled, bringing the weapon up in a semicircle that swept a new line of holes across the ceiling of the car.
Skater fired from almost point-blank range, putting two bullets into the man’s face as he tried to correct his aim. He looked through the broken window facing the car behind them, then fired another trio of shots that took out another gunner walking the connections between the cars.
The Mafia soldier shouted something when he got hit, then toppled from the connection and screamed louder as he started the long, four-story-fall to the streets.
“It’s not the fall that kills you.” Trey yelled across the car on the other side of the door. “It’s that sudden stop at the end.”
Skater kept watch, wondering how long before someone realized a grenade lobbed into the car would make all the difference in the world. He accessed the commlink. “Wheeler.”
“I’m done.” the dwarf replied. “Stand by. I’ve had to override the emergency relays. It’s not going to be pretty, but it should work.”
“Bloody frag.” Trey said. “Somebody brought a rocket launcher as a party favor.”
“Son of a slitch.” Duran said with real feeling over the commlink.
Skater peered around the edge of the window frame and saw it was true. The Mafia gunners had pulled back from the front of the next car, giving the one with the collapsible M79B1 LAW rocket launcher over his shoulder room to fire the weapon.
The LAW was a telescoping length of sudden death, its wide maw gaping at them. It wasn’t designed to be used at such close quarters, but the warhead didn’t know that.
Skater shoved the Predator’s snout through the window and aimed the whole rest of the clip at the coupling linking the two cars. Ejected brass caught the moonlight and the wind, then disappeared instantly.
The sound of screeching metal screamed just before the whoosh of the rocket launcher, and Skater hoped the blown coupling had thrown the LAW-operator off balance even as he fired the thing.
He got his wish. Instead of smashing into the rear of the monorail car or plowing through the door into the interior, the warhead exploded against the car’s undercarriage. Smoke and fire belched out from under the car, and the shock waves of the detonation shivered the length of the compartment.
Skater forced himself up from the floor where he’d fallen. He stared at the huge rip that had opened up only centimeters from where he’d been, followed the line of it for meters till it ended nearly halfway down the car.
Through the half-meter-wide tear given birth by the explosive, he could see the rail the car was running along. The ringing in his ears didn’t die down and the smoke only got worse. When he saw the phosphorous-based flames clinging to the undercarriage, he understood why. The heat gathered intensity, becoming a live thing that whipped through the car’s interior.
On either side of the monorail track, Skater saw the glow of neon adverts lighting up the sprawl below. The monorail lurched, and the split in the flooring grew even wider. Bullets continued to pound the rear of the car.
“Drek, Wheeler.” Skater said as he tried to crouch down and press the magazine release on the Predator. He got it on the second attempt and the rectangle of metal clunked to the floor, slid toward his feet, then abruptly changed course and skittered through the widening hole at the side of the car. “I thought you were getting rid of the car.”
“I cut it loose.” the dwarf said. “Fragging explosion must have jammed the coupling releases.”
Skater risked a glance out the window, and a rifle bullet nearly took his head off. Still, the momentary glance he got showed him that the coupling was barely hanging together. He brought his hand over the edge of the window and sighted from the point, banging out shot after shot to offer the mage cover. He accessed the headlink. “Elvis, Duran, you still with us?”
“We’re on top of the car,” came the ork’s voice, “but those fraggers have us pinned down. We’ve also got some company coming from the troops in the car ahead of us.”
Skater knew he was more than halfway through the clip even though he couldn’t remember exactly how many shots he’d fired. So far none seemed to have done much harm.
Tavis Silverstaff left his wife’s side long enough to retrieve the machine pistol from a dead man, kept in place by a blood-stained sling.
“I hope you’ve got a clear idea of who the enemy is here.” Skater said. “Because if I have to, I’ll drop you.” He turned the Predator on the elf.
“You and McKenzie can fight all you want.” the elf said. “I’m getting my wife out of here.”
Skater nodded. A shimmering wave of force left Trey’s hand just as the Preda
tor’s slide blew back empty and locked. His breath burned his lungs as it carried in the smoke and the searing heat.
With a loud bamf, flames jumped up through the hole in the car and started to spread. At the same time, the shimmering force slammed into the car behind them and finished shearing the couplings. The car immediately dropped behind.
But the redistribution of the weight caused the rear of the car Skater and the team were in to come free of the monorail. It swayed sickeningly, bouncing up and down and from side to side as the monorail engine kept pulling it along.
Skater glanced through the view afforded by the hole. The flames alternately reached for the ceiling of the car and were sucked back outside. He saw the street four stories down, then they were over a short building, then an alley where a wrecker with flashing red and blue lights was picking up a derelict car that had been turned into someone’s graffiti piece de resistance.
“We can’t stay here.” Trey said.
The monorail car swung wildly back the other way, snapping like an amusement park ride.
Skater glanced at Archangel. She lay slumped between the seats, still jacked into the deck. He could detect the rise and fall of her breasts.
“She’s still jacked in.” Skater said. “And we need her there. I’ll stay with her while the rest of you get out of here.”
Trey seemed on the verge of making some objection, but then simply nodded.
The monorail seemed to gain speed now that the last four cars were no longer with it. They turned a corner, and the warped car listed hard to Skater’s right and stayed there, canted at a thirty-degree angle or more and turned diagonal across the track. He saw sparks through the hole in the floor and knew that the car was rubbing up against the monorail itself.
