by Vance Huxley
Dealer let it drop, switching to making deals with Harold for the non-wool goods. The watches were accepted, at decent prices, with Dealer asking about bringing others for repair. Harold wasn’t sure exactly what parts Kharon had, or if he could repair Rolex or TAG Heuer, but promised the repairer would try.He promised to find out if Kharon would consider broken watches for spares, as part payment.While he negotiated, Patty andDavidchatted. The bodyguard finally asked if he couldtry the action and weight of Patty’s Winchester. He’d never laid hands on a real underlever. Patty’s reply surprised Harold. “Okay, but only if I can point this at you?” She pulled the Mad Max 50 out of her belt.
David gave it a long, hard look. “Deal.” He looked a little unsure. “I can’t find anyone who knows if nail varnish will help penetration. Most of them thought it would just leave gunge in the barrel.”
Dealer stopped dealing to laugh at him. “Go on, tell her what they actually said.”
The bodyguard looked embarrassed, then confessed. “Everyone told meif a long 50, especially a hardened round at short range, hits someone wearing a vest the nail varnish won’t matter.” He worked the action on the Winchester and Patty caught the round, handing it back when he asked. David inspected the flat steel end before reloading it. “A hardened 30-30 like this will probably go through anything but ceramics, and that long 50 might even get through them. We’ll never find out, because my boss is too tight to buy ceramic plates for us.”
“It wouldn’t matter. If I have to shoot you I’ll go for your head or your nuts.” Patty’s big smile might have been joking, but David visibly flinched.
He rallied, even managing a chuckle. “Head please,just in case I survive. I might get a sympathy kiss?”
“Possibly, if you survive a headshot from either of these.” Patty held out a hand and David handed her weapon back with a big smile. He lost it sharpish when Dealer looked over.
It was a sort of flirting and left Harold intrigued. Patty seemed to be finally out of that shell she’d worn when she arrived in Orchard Close. The change had startedwhen she’d killed her first scroat. Since then,as Pattyimproved her accuracy, proficiency, and head count, her confidence grew. When the male gangsters as well as Barbies startedtreating her as truly dangerous, Patty had loosened up even more. This sort of joking and teasing with a virtual stranger, a man, was a whole new step.
Harold took part of his payment inempty brass and propellant, because the cars didn’t carry enough of the right sort of clips. The Christmas orders would be paid with whatever clips Dealer could source from the list Harold supplied, and the difference made up with coupons, propellant or brass. This time Harold invested in a few genuine full metal jacket long 50 and 30-30 rounds, allegedly in case David armoured his nuts or head.
The gold had to be taken to one of the cars for testing, but then Dealer took it as well as twoof the paintings and three ornaments. The trader produced his loupe and looked at the gems, rejecting all but six, but he paid well for two of those. Harold had no idea what any of the luxury goods were worth these days but they were useless to him, certainly of less use than the protection they bought. Dealer confirmed that if someone wanted decent jewellery, he would sell as well as buy. He told them he’d try and source anything anyone asked for, modifying that to exclude anti-tank weapons or grenades after Patty asked forboth. Towards the end, in a sort of casual way, Dealer asked if he could buy videos of the football games.
“Not the swimsuit league. We don’t allow anyone to film those, and anyway they’ve covered up until spring.” Harold tried not to smile at Dealer’s expression and failed. David the guard looked at Patty and opened his mouth, but said nothing.
“No I don’t. Though I dress a bit less formally when spectating.” She smirked when Dealer glanced at her, startled.
“Who does play? Once again I’ve heard rumours, but some of your neighbours like to wind people up.” Dealer had to mean the Barbies.
“A couple of Barbies and GOFS played in the last of the swimsuit matches. Next year there might be more.” Harold remembered a comment earlier. “I might get you a video of an ordinary match. The teams includemen and women fighters from different gangs, butthere’s no swearing or violence. No animals or savages.”
That brought a sharp look from Dealer, and his guard, before Dealer’s little smile came back. “You’d get busloads of visiting fans, but you might need a machine gun for crowd control.” Dealer still looked intrigued by the idea but quickly switched subjects, getting back to trading.
Once again Dealer and Harold came out like Siamese twins, with Patty and David following. This time the bodyguard grinned andtook her proffered hand. Harold kept his big mouth shut.The wheelbarrow went straight to the gun repair workshop, where Harold stressed that Tessa mustn’t mention the AK to anyone. One slip and he couldn’t be sure even the GOFS wouldn’t get greedy. According to Tessa she’d rather have the poser Glock, decorated with angels swooping down instead of the more usual eagles.
Patty enlisted the Coven to organise every knitter, and abandoned her squad to knit full-time. Explaining why some outsiders’ Christmas orders, including crocheted toys, were a higher priority than any in Orchard Close wasn’t easy. Nobody outside the squad leaders could know about what Dealer sold, or why Harold wanted to meet the deadline. Patty promised she would team up with Sharyn, Tessa and Emmy, who all knew about Dealer, to find ways and means. Hopefully, even Caddi would take Christmas off and leave them to knit and sew in peace.
The extra visit sparked yet another discussion about Dealer. He must have sources outside the city, and be able to smuggle ammunition in and goods out, but who were his customers out there? The consensus settled on him being part of an organisation with a genuine manufacturing facility somewhere, churning out propellant and ammunition. His customers for traded goods must be in the other cities, unless one horrific suggestion was the real answer. Casper pointed out that if the government wanted to get all the valuables out of the cities before attacking them, Dealer seemed to be doing just that. After a stunned silence several others pointed out the government wouldn’t want to arm gangsters, because the Army would have to fight them sooner or later. Casper agreed, to everyone’s relief.
Early December
In the three years since the mayor died and the city exploded in violence, random attacks by roaming groups had almost stopped. The enclaves lived in relative peace unless another gang launched a raid or an invasion. Despite their varying lifestyles and outlook, Conan, Precinct Nineteen and Sutton Park all had the same opinion of fighting just before Christmas. They didn’t. In their own particular ways,most of the enclaves settled down to have a few easy weeks, and enjoy themselves as much as possible in a ruined city under siege. A few were more dedicated.
The General:
The General wanted a very specific early present, and wasn’t relying on Santa. Rhys had finally found the ways and means to attack the SIMS, or more particularly, to get what the General wanted afterwards. As the sun rose on the sixth of December, the forward SIMS observers reported an army approaching their positions. Nobody even bothered to ask who, because only one nearby gang had an army. The observers promptly legged it for their enclave, where a well-practiced routine swung into action. The SIMS had been expecting an attack, sooner rather than later.
Defenders moved to blockhouses set into the walls, while the non-combatants gathered at the muster points. Just in case the General had managed to get hit men inside, a squad guarded the entrance to an old concrete office block. Three floors above, men and women were still making additional rockets. Two floors above them, on the roof, teams loaded the rocket firing racks and swivelled them to test the bearings. From there they could launch the projectiles directly at any target around the entire perimeter, singly or in groups, once the defenders gave them locations.
Stevie, guarding the office block doors, received a message that the General’s troops were coming out of cover, starting their assault. As he lowered
the radio, gunfire broke out inside the building! “Julie!” Stevie’s girlfriend, Julie, worked at preparing the rockets so without another thought he charged inside and up the stairs. Behind him explosions boomed and shrapnel rattled against the concrete walls and splintered the doors. By the time Stevie reached Julie’s workplace, the shooting and screaming had died away. He glanced around the room, at the three bodies and bloodstains. Two rocket makers, Julie and Maisie, were missing. A trail of blood spots, and an automatic weapon firing on the roof, sent Stevie running up the next flight.
The blood trail kept going and so did Stevie. Even as he pounded up the last flight to the roof, gasping for breath, he heard the roar as a full flight of rockets were launched. Another salvo went off as he charged the door to the roof, but bounced off because it had been barred. “Look out, he’s got…” Something cut off Julie’s voice. Stevie got the message and dived for the floor,just in time! An automatic tore a line of holes through the door.
“Stay back. If I hear you use a radio, I’ll kill them.”
Stevie tried to place the voice and couldn’t. “You can’t get away. The only other way off the roof is the fire escape, and you can’t take captives down that.” Stevie hoped the shooter wanted captives. “Let me hear whoever you’ve got. If they’re dead I’m calling the cavalry.”
“I’m alive, Stevie.” He could hardly understand Julie through the sobbing. “Maisie is alive, but in a bad way. He’s set them all off. He’s killed us all.” The roar as the last eight rockets volleyed confirmed the launches.
“What does he want? We’ve got more rockets so wasting those doesn’t matter.” There were more on the roof, and boxes of reloads on the fourth floor.
The voice still sounded totally confident. “No you haven’t, or rather won’t have. Those rockets went up in the air, off towards the nearest Army post, so the RAF will be on the way to blow the crap out of this place. You can let me go, or wait and die with your woman.”
Stevie managed to place the voice, and couldn’t understand it because the man had lived here since the Crash. “You don’t want to die either, Keith, so why are you doing this?”
“Stand back and let me start down, because that bloody RAF plane will be on the way. There’ll be a machine gun in Julie’s back so don’t stop me.” Keith muttered to someone, then raised his voice. “I’ll explain on the way. You might even decide to join me.”
“Do it Stevie. He fired them all towards the bypass.” Julie had stopped crying.
Stevie didn’t hesitate, because they’d all seen TV pictures showing the RAF response to rockets fired at the Army. The nearest soldiers were five or six miles away but the rockets probably had enough range, and it wouldn’t matter if the missiles had missed completely. The RAF would still be coming, and their radar would already have the location nailed down. “I’m going down to the next landing. Come down slow. If you point a gun at me I’ll start shooting because there’s nothing to lose. If you hurt Julie or Maisie I’ll shoot anyway.” Stevie took the first two steps.
“Be quick, and turn off that radio. I’ll keep this automatic pointing at Julie so don’t get creative. Now move, for Christ’s sake.” By the time Stevie moved down ten steps to the first turning, the top door opened to reveal Julie. Behind her Stevie could see Maisie, slung over Keith’s shoulder. “Come on, hurry up!”
Stevie didn’t hurry too much, he kept it slow enough for a limping Julie to keep up. As he did, Keith followed but stayed safely behind her. The traitor explained, he’d sold out because one way or another the General would take their enclave. This way the RAF would destroy the building and all the rockets, and without their artillery the SIMS wouldn’t last long against the Bloods. The General would win easily and capture the workpeople, but he particularly wanted someone who could make rockets. If Keith provided a rocket maker he’d get a good position with the General, bossing the workers in another enclave.
Stevie found out he should have died with the rest at the door, when Keith’s hidden bombs went off. With nobody to stop him Keith would have hidden nearby with the women, coming out after the conquest succeeded. They negotiated as they went down the four flights of steps because Keith wanted the women, the rocket makers, and Stevie refused. Unfortunately, as Keith pointed out, without them he may as well start shooting. The General would skin him alive if he found out Keith had let them go.
Maisie’s condition settled it in the end. She’d taken a bullet and needed urgent attention, attention the General would give her because he needed her alive. According to Keith he had a recognition signal, so the attackers would spare him and any captives. If Stevie managed to kill him, the Bloods would kill Stevie and kill or gang rape both women as they rampaged through.
Keith stopped on the bottom step. “Time to decide.” Stevie stood in the doorway and braced himself. A quick glance had shown him that his squad were all dead, caught in the bomb blast. “If you come with me willingly, the General will reward you and Julie will be safe.” Both Julie and Stevie shook their heads. “Idiots. All right, you can have Julie, and maybe the two of you can get away. I keep Maisie and I’ll get her safe.” Keith’s eyes flicked upwards. “Providing we get out of this bloody building, right?”
“Do it Stevie. We’ve lost the battle anyway. Let the bastard go because at least that way Maisie might survive.” Julie glanced through the door, towards the gunfire. “We’ve got time to hide, then get to the rally point and warn them.”
“Listen to her. Drop the radio or you’ll warn everyone before I get safe. I won’t shoot you now unless I have to, because a machine gun opening up in the middle of the enclave will bring fighters in a hurry. Then they’ll stop me getting away and I’ll die when the RAF arrive. Now bloody move!” Keith pushed Julie forward just a bit, and Stevie almost went for it but the traitor had that automatic aimed right at her back.
“Done.” He’d already realised, too late, that he should have held the transmit down from the beginning. Stevie scooted the radio along the floor, before stepping backwards out the door. A quick glance showed that nobody had come to investigate, but explosions and gunfire along the walls explained why.
“Here, now bugger off.” Julie staggered forward. Stevie finally had his shot but that automatic might still get both of them, especially Julie, and Maisie would definitely die. He put an arm round Julie, pulling her outside and sideways.
“Grab a gun. We’ll get him as he comes out.”
“Too late. That’ll just kill Maisie because he’s right, we can’t save her. She still might bleed out before he gets her safe.” Julie bent, awkwardly because of her injured leg, snatching up weapons and ammunition. “Come on, move or we’ll be blown to bits anyway. We’ll tell someone when the RAF have gone.” She limped as fast as possible towards one of the buildings. “There’s a cellar in here.” Stevie gave up, snatching up more weapons and ammo before running after her. He found Julie inside, struggling with the trapdoor to the cellar. Her arm had never healed properly after the attack by the MiB, which is why she’d ended up as a rocket maker.
Even down in the cellar the pair heard the rockets or bombs hitting, again and again. After what seemed like a lifetime, possibly five minutes, the noise died away so Stevie heaved on the trapdoor. Daylight and the stench of smoke streamed in because the front of the house had gone, blown away. The missiles or bombs had torn chunks out of the concrete office block, leaving fires that still raged through what was left.The RAF hadn’t been precise, most of the nearby buildings were in ruins or burning. The pair clambered out, heading for the nearest rally point.
As they arrived, the big doors opened and a van sheathed in steel plates started out. The driver leant out of the window. “Just in time. Bug-out. The RAF blew up the bloody rockets and the Bloods are over the walls.” Neither Stevie nor Julie even tried to explain, not yet. There’d be plenty of time if they all lived. The driver did a double-take at the number of weapons the pair had snatched up. “You’ve got extra guns so I want
you both in the last vehicle as rear guards.” Stevie nodded, all the SIMS knew about bug-out. If any attacker breached the walls in numbers, the non-combatants and a core of fighters would punch out of the unengaged side. They’d make for the nearest halfway civilised enclave, in this case the Professor’s, through the two gangs to the north.
“What about the fighters in the blockhouses?” There were vehicles placed so those could join the bug-out as rearguard.
“Hardly any of their vehicles will start, and it’s the same in all five places. We’ve been stitched. The blockhouses are going to buy us as much time as possible.” The couple nodded, heading for the last vehicle.
*
Across the cleared strip outside the walls of the SIMS enclave, the General smacked a fist into his palm. “The Bloods are among the buildings. Got them! Rhys, that Keith gave you their names and the radio channels. Call those blockhouses and give them the choice. Surrender everything and everyone now, and live.” He smirked. “Or any who survive the rape and pillage will live, because the Bloods are over the wall and God himself can’t stop them now.”
Rhys spoke several times, to different people, then cursed quietly. “They said no, and not very politely. The stupid sods mean it.”
“Shit! I wanted to get Julius’s men through the enclave and after the runners, the bug-out. Our road block will only hold for a while.” The General sighed in resignation. “All right, get Patton and Julius on the radio. We’ll get enough Bloods under control to help the steady troops, and take the bloody blockhouses one at a time. Fucking heroes, I hate the stupid shits.”
*
Three tries later the swearing in the General’s HQ reached a crescendo. Twice his men had launched an attack, but supporting fire from the adjacent blockhouses broke the assault. There were even a few rockets, a nasty surprise because his info claimed the launchers were all in the block of flats. The third time, one of his men got a bomb through a loophole whichsilenced most of the fire from one strongpoint. The General threw everything against the next blockhouse in line. Without the flanking fire from the burning blockhouse, the Bloods finally swarmed over their target in numbers. Just briefly, until the ground around the fortification erupted in flame, smoke and flying scrap metal! The Bloods were fighting mad by then, so even that didn’t break them.They swarmed over the blockhouse and this time they got inside.
