Landfall (The Reach, Book 2)

by Mark R. Healy

  Talia fumbled for something at her back but couldn’t seem to reach it.

  Now Knile stepped forward and joined Roman just inside the gate. The Enforcers were oblivious to what was going on outside, having eyes only for the radioactive barrels in front of them.

  “What are you two fucksticks doing?” the sergeant said, gripping Knile by the shoulder and turning him around. “I said get–”

  Knile saw the man lifting Talia into a headlock, then a second appeared and clasped his hands around her flailing legs.

  She’s not going to make it.

  Knile responded instinctively, shouldering his way past the Enforcers and then pushing his way through the crowd outside. He ripped the gas mask from his head and dropped it in the dust, then turned to call back to Roman.

  The boy was already following hot on his heels.

  As they reached the two men struggling with Talia, Knile launched himself at the first, a large man with a bald head and a bronze ring in his left ear. With the thug’s attention on Talia, Knile managed to get the drop on him, and he caught him just under the ribcage with a savage blow that knocked him aside. With her legs free, Talia regained some of her equilibrium, and she managed to swing the man at her back to one side. Roman reached the fracas and thrust out a foot, catching the man between the legs and causing him to grunt in pain and drop to the ground. Talia swivelled nimbly on one foot and lashed out with her boot, connecting with the man’s jaw. There was a loud crack and he ended up face down in the dust, unmoving.

  The bald man was getting to his feet, pistol drawn, but Knile came at him again and shouldered him, knocking the gun out of his hand. Knile tried to take a swing at the man, but his movements felt awkward and restricted in the hazmat suit, like he was submersed in water, and there was no power in the blow. The bald man struck back, delivering a glancing blow to Knile’s head that knocked him onto the ground. The man raised his fist, lining Knile up for another blow, but before he could make it, Talia’s boot came from nowhere and smashed into his cheekbone, sending him sprawling on all fours with blood pouring from his face.

  Knile looked up to see Talia standing over him, her hand outstretched.

  “Who’s saving who here?” She grinned down at him, breathing heavily through her respirator.

  Knile took her hand and got to his feet, offering her a nod of thanks.

  “We’re saving you,” he said, gingerly touching his face. He turned back to the bald man, but suddenly Roman appeared at their side.

  “Enforcers,” he gasped. “They’re coming.”

  Knile looked back at the crowd, and sure enough, no less than five Enforcers were heading their way to investigate what was going on.

  Knile’s mind whirred at a frenetic pace, desperately searching for an angle he could use to talk their way out of this mess, but he couldn’t think of one. The Enforcers would want to know what had happened and who had been involved, and why the waste disposal men had suddenly abandoned their job to help a strange woman outside the gates.

  There would be no explanation for that, and no way to sneak Talia through. The game was up.

  “We have to run,” Knile said, stripping rapidly out of his hazmat suit. Roman took only a fraction of a second to respond before doing the same.

  “You guys should go back,” Talia said, aggrieved. “Just leave me out here.”

  “No,” Knile said sharply, shrugging his legs out of the suit. “We’re in this together now. We’ll come back tomorrow, or next week, or whatever it takes. If we try to go back now we’ll be arrested.”

  They were already beginning to run as Roman discarded the last of his suit. A revolver lay in the dust, and Talia reached down and scooped it up as she went past.

  Then they were jostling their way through the crowd with the sound of the Enforcers’ voices at their backs.

  21

  Eryk Capper stood inside the dilapidated Enforcer barracks, a place that had been long deserted but which still retained the stink of the men in black who had once occupied the space within its walls. It was as if the essence of them had somehow leached into the water-stained gyprock and now clung there doggedly, refusing to shift despite the passage of time and the rents in the ceiling through which the outside air wafted down.

  It was not an entirely pleasant place in which to wait, but it was quiet and deserted, and it was neutral ground. That was all that mattered.

  Capper glanced back at his men, who were spread across the room in roughly equal spacing several steps apart. Crumb was nearest, looking even more haggard and unhealthy than usual. The man had searched for the escapee longer and harder than anyone else, and Capper knew why. It was Crumb who had vouched for the kid, Winny, when he had joined the crew. Crumb had assured them all that, although he was young, the kid would do a good job.

  And then Winny had failed in the most spectacular fashion possible, allowing a woman who had been bound and subdued to escape. It was a task that had been impossible to mess up, and somehow Winny had done just that.

  Crumb flicked his eyes nervously over to Capper, aware of the other man’s scrutiny. He swallowed visibly and looked away again.

  Capper knew what was going on in his head. He was wondering if he was going to be punished for Winny’s failures.

  Perhaps you are, old friend, Capper thought.

  Past Crumb were two of Capper’s other men, Schulz and Merryweather, both reliable and dependable men. Men who would have been far better suited to watching over the woman had they not been on other assignments at the time.

  Then, over by the wall stood Winny. He skulked there, bruised and battered amongst the shadows, looking for all the world as though he wanted nothing more than to melt into the gloom and disappear. He had not once met Capper’s eyes after the incident with Talia, and now as he tried to avoid attention in the corner of the room it became obvious that he knew he was being observed. His eyes darted back and forth across the floor, and he scratched at his scalp with a trembling hand.

  Capper glared at him for a few moments longer and then turned away again.

  Capper wrinkled his nose in disgust, not just at Winny, but at the putrid Enforcer stench that was gnawing away at his already frayed patience. He wondered now whether he should have chosen somewhere else for the meeting, somewhere more salubrious and less likely to cause aggravation.

  He sighed. It was too late for regrets now, he supposed. Better to just get it over and done with and get moving again.

  Down the long hallway, he could see them coming.

  On the right was a tall, muscular man with dark, close-set eyes and a receding hairline. He walked in large, confident strides, an impatient look on his face. On the left was a woman who was very much his opposite. She was of Asian descent, short and wiry with long black hair, dressed in a black jacket and slacks. Behind each of them trailed a cluster of four or five men, rough-looking types carrying a mixture of guns and surly expressions.

  Just the kind of people Capper wanted.

  He turned and placed his tool bag on the bench next to him, taking a moment to run his fingers along its worn leather edges. He smiled fondly to himself. The bag was more than just his constant companion and his talisman. It was a family heirloom of sorts. His father had used this same tool bag for twenty-seven years, carrying it to an honest man’s job every day without fail until the day he died, sick and hungry and no richer than the first morning he had hefted the bag and stepped out of his door as a young man. His father before him had done the same, two proper men leading two proper lives, unquestioning and determined and yet ultimately failures to themselves and their families.

  Eryk Capper would not follow the same path. He had vowed from the beginning that he would carry the tool bag in their memory, this symbol of their wasted lives, as a constant reminder of what it meant to fail.

  But he would not waste his time and energy on any sort of honourable vocation.

  Capper was not prepared to die poor and hungry as his forefather
s had done. He would make a success of his life, even if that meant doing unspeakable things – things that he might one day look back upon with disgust, but which would ultimately deliver him the wealth and power that he craved.

  After all, if there was one thing he had learned from the tattered fragments of his father’s life, it was the knowledge that this world did not reward the honest man. There was only one way to achieve success, and that was by seizing the opportunities that came one’s way when they presented themselves and following through until the job was done.

  Capper’s opportunity had finally arrived. It was here. It was now. The bounty that this whore, Talia, had dangled in front of his face could not be ignored. Capper had taken the first steps along the path by capturing her, and now he had faltered, allowing the woman to escape. He had to find his way back in the right direction, and once on the path again, he had to follow through to the bitter end.

  “Nice party,” the tall man said dryly as the newcomers came to a halt a short distance away. The others fanned out behind him and arranged themselves around the room. “Could use more strippers, I guess.”

  “Perhaps next time,” Capper said.

  “Why the fuck are we here?” the woman said. She cast a sidelong glance at the tall man beside her. “I don’t like being in the same neighbourhood as Rotolo. He stinks like rotten fish.”

  Rotolo grinned down at her. “Maybe you’d like to strip for us, Diao-Chan, provide our entertainment. That’s assuming you’ve got something worth seeing under that jacket.”

  “I got more than you can handle, baichi,” she said acidly.

  “Please,” Capper said, raising his hands. “I know that none of us here get along. We’re not here as friends.”

  Diao-Chan snorted. “Nice way to put it. One of your guys killed Dongfeng last month. We ain’t even for that yet, man.”

  “That man disobeyed orders,” Capper said. “He was disciplined appropriately.”

  “So what the hell does that mean?” she spat.

  “Have you seen him walking around since the incident?”

  Diao-Chan smirked and raised her eyebrows. “You do that to your own men?”

  “Once they disappoint me,” Capper said, “they are no longer my men. They simply become meat for the grinder.”

  “Scary shit,” Rotolo said patronisingly. “Get on with it, Capper. What gives with this truce you’re talking about?”

  “I have an opportunity.”

  “An opportunity?” Rotolo said.

  “Yes. A job that might well be unprecedented for the likes of us.”

  “And you’re going to share it with us?” Rotolo said sardonically. “Bullshit.”

  Capper frowned, irked by the man’s attitude. “I’m not doing this because I want us to be buddies, Rotolo. I’m not doing it because I like giving away creds.”

  “So what’s the deal?” Diao-Chan said.

  “I fear this job is too big for me and my crew alone. I fear that if I try to take it myself, I’ll lose it.” He spread his hands. “Better to share a portion of the spoils than to lose it all, is it not?”

  “So what’s the gig?” Rotolo said. “You bustin’ open the whole damn Reach or something?”

  “No, something a little closer to home.” Capper held out his hand and Crumb slipped him a tablet with the blurry image of a blonde woman frozen on the screen. “This is Talia Anders. She’s a long time resident of Link who I believe is part of a large operation over in Grove. She was observed by Crumb entering there without an ID check several days ago.”

  “Grove?” Rotolo said. “Is that what this about?” He took a step forward. “Have you seen the security over there? The place is a fortress.”

  “That’s what I’m getting at. She got in there and somehow bypassed security. My intention is to discover how she did it, then use that information to gain entry.”

  “This is stupid,” Diao-Chan said. “She probably just knew the guy on the gate.”

  “The guards aren’t permitted to make exceptions. That could only be done by someone near the top of the hierarchy, such as Giroux, but Crumb didn’t see him there.”

  “No, sir,” Crumb chimed in. “No Giroux in sight.”

  “We had her in our possession until recently,” Capper said. He was embarrassed by the implication that she’d been lost, and continued on quickly. “She told us that she was Giroux’s personal whore, and that she used a password to get inside. The information turned out to be incorrect.”

  “Well, that explains it,” Diao-Chan said. “She gets a pass because she’s suckin’ dicks in Grove. End of story.”

  Capper scowled, annoyed by her tone of voice, but also by the thought that what she was saying might be true. Maybe Capper was making more out of this because he wanted to see an opportunity where none really existed.

  “No,” Capper said, pushing the thought away. “She’s part of a bigger operation. I know it.”

  “So what’s this operation?” Rotolo said. “I agree with shorty here for once. To me this sounds like one loose bitch who’s been given a free pass to come and go as she pleases.”

  Capper shook his head. “No, there’s more than that. My men followed her when she escaped. She travelled across the city and ended up at the Reach, eventually meeting up with accomplices from inside the Reach itself. Men wearing some sort of protective clothing.”

  Rotolo looked at him quizzically. “What the fuck?”

  “I don’t know exactly what she’s messed up in, but it’s big,” Capper said. “I think she’s the ticket to a very, very large score.”

  “So where do we come into this?” Diao-Chan said.

  “I need more bodies on the ground,” Capper said. “I only have a handful of men. I need more eyes out there on the street looking for her. Once she leads us to wherever she’s going, I expect there will be some defences.”

  Rotolo rubbed wearily at his face. “So we’re supposed to just drop everything and go hunting some bitch that we know nothing about, and then hope like hell this two-bit whore has a gold mine shoved up her ass? Is that it?”

  “This is an opportunity–”

  “It’s a crock of horse shit, is what it is,” Rotolo said. He turned and waved at his men. “I’ve heard enough. We’re out. Don’t call me with any more ‘offers’, Capper. I have better things to do with my time.”

  Capper watched them leave, disconcerted at being cast aside so easily and trying not to show it, all too aware that Diao-Chan was watching him closely. As Rotolo’s men cleared the room, Capper turned back to her and the five men behind her.

  “And what about you?” he said. “I’ve made my offer.”

  “If I had any sense, I’d follow that bloated hippo right out of this place and never look back.” She raised her eyes to the patch of sky that glinted through the hole in the roof, and the tension seemed to drain out of her face. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, now seemingly calm. “But the spirits told me that there would be a great gift sent to me in the days before the next rains,” she said. “Something that would come in the guise of a lamb, but underneath had the form of a golden dragon. Something that would change my life.” She chewed on her lip. “I wonder if this is it.”

  “I don’t know your spirits,” Capper admitted, “but perhaps you are right.”

  She sighed. “Are you sure about this?” she said.

  “It’s a hunch, but I think it’s worth the risk.” He watched her carefully. “You and your crew, you’re doing it tough out there, aren’t you?”

  She blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his directness.

  “Uh…”

  “We are as well.” Capper glanced back at his men. “We need this. Perhaps it’s a long shot, but I think it’s a chance worth taking.”

  Diao-Chan nodded. “All right, we’re in.”

  “Good.”

  “But tell me,” Diao-Chan said, staring at him, evaluating, “what’s got you so wound up about her? What do you
really want her for, and why are you prepared to drop everything to get her?”

  “When was the last time you had a chance at a big score? Something huge?”

  “A while.”

  “Exactly. These opportunities don’t come around often. Not in recent times. If we don’t take it with both hands, someone like Rotolo will come along and take it from under our noses.”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  But there was another answer in his head that was perhaps even more compelling, one that had been eating away at him night and day since he’d first discovered that she’d escaped.

  Because that bitch made me look like a fool, he thought. And no one gets away with that.

  Diao-Chan was staring at him oddly, and Capper realised that he had been grinding his teeth. He could only imagine the look of fury that must have passed over his face as he’d thought of Talia.

  He hoped Diao-Chan had not realised that a huge part of his quest to recapture Talia was purely personal. He wanted revenge on her for making him look foolish in front of his own men.

  He needed an outlet for his rage.

  With that thought in mind he turned back to his tool bag.

  “Winny!” he barked. “Come here.”

  Capper drew out a box cutter and extended the rusted blade, turning it over in his hands and watching the light from above play off the metal. Winny wound his way forward, past Crumb and the others, and Capper turned to face him.

  “Winny has something to tell us,” Capper announced as the young man stepped uncertainly into the circle of thugs. “Don’t you, Winny?”

  “I do?” he said uncertainly.

  “Yes. Tell us about this woman. Tell us what you’ve learned.”

  Winny nodded. “Sh-she’s tricky,” he stammered. “She has a deceptive way–”

  “No, no, no,” Capper said. “That’s not what I want to hear.” He lifted the knife. “Allow me to help you find the right words.”

  Crumb reached out and gripped Winny by the hair, wrenching his head back as two other men held his arms fast. Capper moved forward, calm and focussed and with the knife poised in his fingers.