by Neil Hunter
His prime objective was Loren Brak. And if the pair of Justice cops got in his way, they would also be removed. He gestured to his remaining accomplices, and they moved to join the chase.
Cade felt a burning ache across his side. He knew he was losing blood from the bullet crease and that loss would be increased due to his exertions. But there was no stopping now. No way was he quitting.
He stumbled, scraping against the side of the house. The rough wall gouged his flesh. Cade shoved himself upright, away from the wall, and kept on running.
Brak had reached the truck. One of his gunners had slipped behind the wheel, kicking the powerful engine to life.
The gunner shielding Brak cut loose with his high-power combat rifle, pumping shot after shot in Cade’s direction. The third gunner helped Brak into the truck.
Janek tracked the guy with his SMG. The burst he fired was short, the auto weapon locking on an empty magazine. Shaking his head in frustration, the cybo dragged his handgun free and used that instead.
The gunner with the rifle was the last to climb into the truck as it lurched into motion. Janek’s shots clipped the rear fender. Doors were still flapping as the vehicle burned rubber across the concrete, heading around the house toward the open drive beyond.
Both Cade and Janek laid concentrated fire at the escaping truck. Slugs sparked off the vehicle’s toughened bodywork and blew out the rear screen.
Cade cut across the concrete, reaching a gleaming black Ford Cobra-2. The gull-wing doors sprang open as he stroked the touchpad. Leaning inside, he saw that the key was in the ignition. He dropped into the driver’s contoured leather seat. As he fired up the turbo-boosted engine, Janek slid into the passenger seat. Cade slammed the car into gear and popped the clutch. The wide tires squealed in protest. Cade spun the wheel, taking the sleek roadster in pursuit of the truck.
“On his tail, T.J.,” Janek said. “Not up his ass.”
“Watch me, partner.”
Janek locked the safety belt as the gull-wing doors sealed. He shook his head in disbelief as Cade took the Ford along the drive, out through the gates and into a slithering turn.
The truck was already way along the road, dwindling rapidly as it picked up speed.
The chase took them through the hilly country bordering the San Gabriel foothills.
“Where the hell is he going?” Janek asked. “Is he just running scared, or has he got a place to go?”
Cade shrugged. “Maybe he arranged a backup plan to save himself if things went sour here in L.A. But I really don’t know. Brak’s no fool. If he has to run, he’ll cut his losses and do it. He must have known that play was on the cards. You don’t ice your partners, grab the loot and run, without somebody getting slightly pissed off. He has to have a place somewhere where he can vanish and lie low until the heat eases off. He can afford it with all the cash he took. Plus the accounts he transferred from New York. And he still has the formula for Thunder Crystals. So he isn’t going to be strapped for cash.”
“He stays out of the light for a few months, then surfaces and starts over.”
“Wise move.”
“Only if we let him get away with it, T.J.”
“No way, partner. Not with three Justice cops dead in New York and Wexler here in L.A.”
“Paris is finished, too. I saw her take a headshot back at the house.”
“Then there’s no damn way he’s walking free.”
The truck hung a sharp right. Cade almost overshot and had to stand on the brake to bring the car around in a groaning slide. He floored the pedal, feeling the power surge, hoping to regain some ground between them and the distant truck.
“No way we can bring in backup on this one,” Janek observed. ‘This is going to be down to us, Thomas.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Janek leaned back in his seat, deciding silence was the order of the day—for the short term at least.
His gaze wandered to the rearview mirror, picking up the silver Chrysler a few hundred yards back. His interest was aroused when he recognized the car. It had been parked with the others at the rear of the traffickers’ house.
Janek allowed himself a thin smile. He knew without actually seeing the man who it was behind the wheel.
Ryker!
Someone else who refused to quit.
Up ahead the truck hit a sharp curve, and the rear end slid a little. Bouncing along the grass, the vehicle raised a cloud dust that whipped back to obscure Cade’s vision for a few seconds.
He swore under his breath, dropping his own speed and falling back.
As the dust cleared, he spotted the truck vanishing over the crest of a rise. Cade stamped on the gas pedal, and the Ford went up the slope with the slickness of a shuttle craft leaving a launching ramp. The wheels left the ground as it cleared the crest, bottoming out as it came back down to earth.
“Thomas, what the fuck are you trying to do?” Janek yelled, completely losing his usual restraint.
“Relax,” Cade said, grinning.
“Relax! T.J., you’re a menace when you get behind a wheel.”
“Doing the job, partner, that’s all.”
“So’s Ryker,” Janek said evenly.
“Say what?”
“Ryker. He’s on our tail.”
Cade checked the mirror. “Hell! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just did.”
“Great timing, partner.”
Janek checked his weapons. “Get me in range, and I’ll try and take out one of their tires,” the cyborg suggested.
Cade pumped more gas to the engine. He felt it leap forward and realized the vehicle-to-vehicle gap was closing.
They were pushing higher into the hills now. There wasn’t much traffic around. The narrow highway cut a tortuous path around the rolling slopes. Cade swung back and forth, trying to get alongside the truck, but the driver behind the wheel kept him at bay by countering Cade’s moves.
“Smart son of a bitch.”
“Long straight coming up,” Janek said. “Go for it.”
Cade leaned on the pedal, bringing them close up to the truck’s rear.
Cocking the SMG, Janek powered his window down and leaned out.
“Now,T.J.!”
Cade swung around the truck’s rear, catching the driver out and holding the Ford alongside.
Janek leaned farther out, aiming the SMG at the truck’s rear wheel. He loosed off a short burst into the tire, shredding the thick rubber.
“Back off!” he yelled to Cade, pulling back into the car.
Cade slackened off the gas pedal, touching the brake and allowing the Ford to drop back.
The truck sank onto the rim of the blown tire. A thick stream of orange sparks leaped up from the road. The heavy vehicle began to slew from side to side as the driver fought the wheel.
“Ryker coming up!” Janek yelled.
Cade glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the silver Chrysler looming large. His drop in speed had closed the gap, bringing Ryker closer than anticipated.
The cars made contact, metal and plastic burning against each other. Bits flew into the air.
Cade felt the car shudder. He touched the gas pedal, pulling ahead again, but he was forced to brake again almost immediately as he saw the fishtailing truck directly ahead.
“Damn!”
They were trapped between the truck and Ryker’s Chrysler, with nowhere to go. A high bank lay on the right and a steep slope on the left.
Janek twisted around and climbed into the rear seat. Clenching his fist, he punched out the rear window.
Poking the SMG through the gap, the cyborg sprayed the pursuing vehicle, caving in the windshield. The Chrysler dropped back, swerving violently, and gouged the earthy bank as it slowed in a series of jerky bumps.
Touching the brake again, Cade eased away from the truck. The driver appeared to have regained some control despite the burst tire. He pulled it around a sharp curve, compensating
for the drift, and as the road straightened, poured on the power.
A signboard flashed by, too quickly for Cade to read.
“You catch that?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Of course, T.J., it’s my advantage over you. Better vision. Faster reflexes.”
“And I have a lower boredom level, so give,” Cade snapped.
“Half mile ahead there’s a turning for a feeder road. It leads to a small landing field.”
“Damn it, I knew he wasn’t just running blind.”
“Meaning?”
“Brak’s going to break for that field. He’s got a craft of some kind waiting there for him. Cruiser maybe. Strato-jumper. Anything to get him out of here so he can vanish.”
“Sounds logical.”
“Logic, my ass. The guy’s a survivor, Janek. I’ll bet my next salary check he had this arranged months ago. While he was setting up his deals. Brak had to know he’d catch hell when this broke, so he took out insurance.”
The hard-running truck turned onto the feeder road, trailing smoke and sparks. It bumped and lurched along the narrow strip, with Cade in close pursuit.
“There’s somebody at the tailgate door,” Janek warned.
Cade saw the tailgate door flip open. It was pulled upward by the slipstream from the speeding vehicle. A figure was hunched in the shadow of the passenger compartment. Janek leaned over the seat, focusing on the guy’s activities.
“Grenade!” he yelled.
The small, spherical object flew from the truck, hit the road and bounced. It seemed to be coming directly at the windshield. Cade yanked hard on the wheel, swinging away.
There was a bright flash, and the grenade exploded with a sharp crash. The windows along the left side were blown in, showering the interior with glass particles. Cade felt the sharp bite of glass sting his face.
From behind he heard Janek being thrown across the rear seat, crashing against the interior panel.
“You okay?” he called over his shoulder.
For a moment Janek didn’t speak. Then he gave a low croaking sound. After a few seconds his voice returned to normal. “As you would say, T.J., the son of a bitch got me.”
Janek’s left arm slid over the seat. His jacket and shirt had been blown off his arm, and his syntho-flesh was shredded, exposing his titanium-steel limb.
“Keep your eye on that sucker,” Janek said.
He retrieved his SMG and swung it out the window, leaning out precariously. Cade eased over to the side of the road, giving Janek the target acquisition space he needed.
“Bastard’s got another,” Cade said.
Janek raised the SMG, aiming and triggering a burst that punctured the grenade thrower’s chest. The guy slumped, then toppled over the lower tailgate, flopping onto the road. Cade had no time to avoid him. The Ford bounced over the body, dragging it for a few yards. Seconds after they rolled clear, the grenade exploded, throwing dirt and stone chips over the car’s rear.
The truck swerved through the open gates of the field. A security droid stepped out, waving its arms as it tried to flag the vehicle down. The front of the truck struck the droid and sent it flying, and the truck cut across the landing field’s concrete apron.
Checking the way ahead, Cade pushed the Ford in pursuit. The truck seemed to be heading for a sleek blue-and-scarlet strato-jumper parked in the corner of the small airfield.
As Cade rolled through the gates, he picked up the shape of Ryker’s Chrysler behind him, coming up fast.
The strato-jumper was a twenty-five-foot craft. One of the new breed of flyers designed for swift, long-distance travel, it was shaped like a sleek, narrow wedge with a needle nose. Strato-jumpers operated by using high-power rocket engines that pushed them into the stratosphere, where they cruised before reentering and gliding down to computer-tracked landing coordinates.
“That jumper is ready to go,” Janek said.
Pale vapor was drifting from the craft’s exhaust ports, showing that the powerful engines had been put on warm-up.
“Brak must have called ahead,” Cade grumbled, trying to up their speed. “He doesn’t waste a damn minute.”
The limping truck skidded as it reached the strato-jumper. Before it came to rest, the doors sprang open. Loren Brak, carrying a pair of lightweight alloy cases, ran for the craft’s open hatch. One of his gunners followed, protecting Brak’s rear, while the remaining gunner leaned across the truck’s hood and opened up with an auto rifle. The powerful combat weapon cracked viciously, laying a steady volley of shots into the Ford.
“Son of a bitch!” Cade yelled. He swung the Ford around and aimed it at the truck. It struck head-on, shoving the truck across the concrete and knocking the gunner off his feet.
“Get Brak,” Cade said, struggling to open his jammed door. “I’ll handle Ryker.”
Janek sprang out, his legs moving in a blur as he ran for the strato-jumper.
The craft was already moving on its launch dolly as the automatic control eased it toward the runway strip.
Brak and his protector had vanished inside, and the hatch was starting to close.
Janek didn’t hesitate.
He poured on the power, angling his line of travel as he closed in on the strato-jumper.
Cade, kicking open his jammed door, emerged in time to see his cyborg partner take a flying leap through the hatch before it closed.
Moments later the strato-jumper locked onto the runway strip. There was a deep-seated roar from the rocket engines. A plume of flame and smoke erupted from the exhaust ports. The jumper gathered itself then vanished along the strip, picking up speed with a terrifying roar. It parted company with the launch dolly and burned its way toward the stratosphere, vanishing from sight in the clear blue California sky.
Chapter Fifteen
Janek lost his grip on the SMG as he went through the hatchway. There wasn’t a thing he could do about it. He hit the compartment floor, tucking his shoulder in and rolling. His forward momentum carried him across the compartment, and he crashed against the padded bulkhead. He quickly scrambled to his feet.
He’d expected armed response from Brak and his gunner, possibly more if the drug trafficker had extra heavies inside the strato-jumper.
He hadn’t expected an android protector.
As Janek climbed to his feet, he saw something move to his left. Turning that way, he was met by a hard backhand across the side of his head. The blow sent him reeling. Janek felt his circuits fade for a moment. He picked up movement again. This time he ducked under the slashing arm of his attacker.
He lunged for his opponent. The moment he came up against the dull black casing, he realized this was no human bodyguard. Brak had hired a minder droid. The classification for the model was personal-protection droid and, correctly programmed, they were ideal bodyguards. But many illegal models had been created, their internal program circuits altered. The droids had become muscle for the likes of Brak, men who wanted more than a droid willing to protect. These droids would kill to order and maim as a matter of course. They were tough, resilient and brutal.
Janek dug his feet hard against the compartment deck and shoved, driving the droid off balance. He heard the droid’s grunt of surprise. It hadn’t expected a cyborg adversary. Given a few moments, it would adjust its defensive mode to take into account the fact it was dealing with something more than a weak human.
Janek didn’t intend giving the droid that chance. He jammed the heel of his right hand under the droid’s broad jaw and shoved hard. The droid gave a squawk as its neck reached the extreme limit of flexibility. Janek kept pushing. He heard the soft snap of the droid’s central circuit cord, which was embedded in the tubular coil that ran from neck to waist—the droid’s “spine.” The droid immediately went limp.
Shoving the robot aside, Janek glanced around the compartment. He wasn’t alone. Brak had vanished through the hatch that led to the control cabin. Between Janek and the trafficker was Brak’s sole surviving
protector, armed and obviously ready to use his weapon.
The strato-jumper, already on the move as Janek had made his entrance, gave a powerful surge. Pressure built up suddenly as the craft leaped along the runway strip. Janek was slammed back against the bulkhead. He watched the gunner stumble, unable to cope with the incredible acceleration. He should have been strapped into one of the launch couches. As the stumbling figure slid toward him across the compartment, Janek simply waited.
The protector tried to lift his weapon but couldn’t overcome the pressure that was adding to his body weight.
Janek had no problems. He simply pumped up his servo circuit, reaching out with a clenched fist. It slammed across the oncoming man’s jaw with unyielding force, snapping his head back, blood spraying in thick droplets from the crushed lips. The gunner released his weapon, which Janek grabbed, and slid into the bulkhead. From there the gunner rolled to the floor, ending up as an inert bundle.
Janek pressed himself against the bulkhead until the strato-jumper leveled out at cruising altitude. Speed dropped and the pressure lessened.
Unloading the combat rifle and pocketing the magazine, he crossed the compartment and opened the hatch to the control cabin.
“You handle that—” Loren Brak began.
Then he realized that the figure coming in through the hatch wasn’t his protector.
“You!” Brak yelled, grabbing for the autopistol holstered under his shoulder. “Do I have to get rid of you myself?”
The dark-haired pilot, the only other person in the control cabin, rounded on Brak. “Not in here! Not a frigging gun, for Christ’s sake.”
Brak ignored him. The trafficker’s grand plan had been thwarted right from the moment Cade and Janek were assigned to the investigation. They had followed him across the country, from east to west, breaking up his organization. Nothing seemed to stop them. Like a pair of avenging angels, Cade and Janek had trailed him all the way. Even now one had followed him on board the strato-jumper.
The autopistol angled up, the muzzle lining up on Janek’s face, wavering between his eyes. There was a split second before Brak made the unconscious decision to go for the cyborg’s right eyepiece.
