Bad Rock Beat Down (The Milky Way Repo Series Book 2)

by Michael Prelee

  Morris frowned for a moment and then got it. “You want to use them to move the stuff? Have them take Bone Daddy’s place in the distribution pipeline?”

  Dodger’s head bobbed up and down, like a ball on a spring. “Yeah. Think about it. Those repo guys can probably get in and out of all kinds of places without going through customs inspections because they got authorization to be there. Freight haulers can get licensed ahead of time and skip all the inspections and crap.” He nodded at the dark monitor. “I bet they got something like that.”

  “That could work,” Morris said, “if you could get them to do it. What makes you think they’ll be up for it?”

  Dodger smiled with yellow teeth. “Credits. We just have to make it worth their while. The reward has to be worth the risk. Why don’t you run a background check on them and see what their finances look like. Check all the other stuff too, see if there’s anything we can exploit.”

  Morris nodded and smiled. “It’s already done,” he said as he pulled up a file. “I started checking them out when Turtle called in this morning.” He swiped his hand across the display in front of him and Dodger’s workstation beeped and came to life. “There’s the file. I think there’s some interesting data there.”

  Dodger opened the file. “Good work. Why don’t you go get yourself a lap dance while I go through this. Get one for Cheech, too. We had a hot little redhead in here that got scanned last week. Check her out.”

  Chapter 10

  Donald Kinty steered a hover truck down a two-lane road, bordered with metal fencing, toward the south gate of the starship storage yard, just east of Go City. Kenneth Bonto, another member of his crew sat beside him in the passenger seat and said, “You think Atomic Jack will be okay with this?”

  “What? Grabbing the Diamond K?” Kinty said. He put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. “He’s going to be ecstatic. Think of the finder’s fee on this job. Besides, he’s out of town, right? He left me in charge and I say we go get this stuff.”

  “You say ‘out of town’ like he’s taking a vacation instead of in a Swiss hospital getting another treatment for the radiation poisoning.”

  Kinty shrugged. “Well, that’s pretty far out of town. Listen, don’t worry. We go in, grab this stuff and get out. When he gets back, he’ll be glad we earned a little extra.”

  “I guess.”

  They came to the gate and he turned in. A guard, with curly red hair in a small shack, slid his window open and waved at them. Kinty lowered his window and a blast of hot air hit him. A little air conditioning unit atop the guard shack rattled to life in a futile attempt to beat back the heat. He raised his voice to talk over it.

  “Hey, Murphy.”

  The guard nodded. “Kinty. What’s up?”

  “Just need a look at one of your ships,” Kinty said. “The Hell’s Breath?”

  The guard consulted a mobi and pointed straight ahead. “Pad sixteen. Go straight ahead and then take the first right. It’s down three spots on the right.”

  “Thanks. Has it been wrapped?”

  “I don’t think so.” He checked the mobi again for confirmation. “The notes on it say it’s still waiting for inspection and then it’s going through a refit. Looks like a repo job.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear. Thanks, Murph.” He handed him a card and a credit voucher. “Give me a call if anyone comes through.”

  “Will do.” The guard tapped a control and the gate rolled open, then he slid his window closed to let the air conditioner catch up. Kinty pulled through the gate and followed the guard’s directions. His crew kept Murphy on the take so they could access the storage yard whenever they needed to. The landing pads spread out across the flat desert. Most held small starships in long-term or short-term storage, just waiting for the day they would be put back into service. The ships all had white polymer shrink wrap to guard against corrosion and blowing sand. Kinty turned the corner and spotted their target. He pulled up next to the landing pad.

  “That looks like a huge pile of shit,” Bonto said. He lit up a cigarette and smoke curled out of his mouth. “Who does it belong to again?”

  “Right now, the bank owns it. Those Milky Way Repo morons grabbed it from some band out on Mars and returned it here.” He pointed to the side of the ship with the band name on it. “Before that it belonged to Bone Daddy and the Voodoo Choir.” He shut the truck down, and it settled to the ground on stubby landing gear.

  “Man, it’s going to be hotter than hell in there,” Bonto said. “I bet they don’t have the environmental controls cycling.”

  “Doesn’t look like it. Come on, let’s get it done.”

  They exited the truck and walked toward the rear of the ship. Kinty ducked into the little bit of shade provided by the stabilizer and found the ramp controls. He plugged in a small device and watched the lights on the display swirl as it hammered the lock with a brute force attack. A moment later the ramp dropped slowly to the ground. Bonto walked up the ramp and Kinty followed after retrieving his device from the ramp controls. He found light switches along one wall and lit up the cargo bay.

  Bonto kicked a pile of clothes out of the way and shoved a storage container out of the middle of the small bay. “Well this is a mess.”

  “According to Turtle, we only need one thing. He said our item is a pallet full of dope and it should be wrapped up.”

  “That’s your nephew, right?”

  “Yeah, my sister’s kid. He’s part of a crew out on Bad Rock working for a guy named Dodger.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “Turtle says he’s an asshole. Have you heard of Diamond K?” Kinty went through the storage areas, pulling aside tarps and moving containers full of stage gear out of his way.

  “Yeah, sure. Speed variant.”

  Kinty took a long step over an open black case that had foam cut outs in it shaped like large speakers. “That’s the stuff. Well, this guy Dodger makes it out on Bad Rock and he had the bright idea to use this Bone Daddy as a distributor because he tours the asteroid belt and other settlements.”

  Bonto laughed and shook his head. “Really? He gave a rock band access to an almost unlimited amount of drugs? Dumbass.”

  Kinty spotted a tarp covering something in the corner and he worked his way over to it. He pulled the cord holding the tarp loose and lifted it up. He let out a low whistle. “Found it.”

  Bonto worked his way over to him. “That is a lot of dope.” He ran his hands over the plastic wrap and found a tear. “Looks like someone got into it.”

  Kinty shrugged. “Like you said, they’re a rock band.”

  “How come this hasn’t been found by customs yet?”

  “The way I understand it, those repo guys don’t stop up in orbit for the inspection. The bank or whoever owns it has two weeks to get the inspection done once it lands.” A quick glance at the cargo bay showed him they had a pretty straight shot to the ramp. “Why don’t you move some of this crap out of the way and I’ll get the loader from the truck? I’d like to get out of here sooner rather than later.” He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

  “Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

  Kinty walked back out to the truck and raised the roll up door. He lowered the ramp hidden under the cargo box and walked up inside to grab the anti-gravity lifter. A quick look around when he exited the truck showed them to be alone He went back into the Hell’s Breath. Bonto had the bay cleaned up enough for him to drag the pallet to the ramp.

  “Is this all we need?” Bonto said.

  “It’s all Turtle mentioned. Why?”

  Bonto nodded his head upward. “There might be some other stuff we could grab. Make this little side trip pay off a bit.”

  Kinty considered it. “Why not?”

  They found the stairs and climbed them up to the main deck. Kinty found the
light switches and lit up the cabin. His mouth dropped open at the mess.

  “Holy shit. Have you ever seen anything like this?”

  Bonto nudged some dirty clothing away with the toe of his boot. “Just drug houses like that joint over on Sixth. You know, forget I said anything. I don’t want anything out of this mess. I’ve got better things to do than pick through garbage.”

  “Yeah,” Kinty said, holding up a torn leopard skin thong. “This is repugnant.”

  They went back down to the cargo bay and Bonto cinched the tarp tight over the pallet before Kinty attached the lifter. The load floated about ten centimeters off the deck. Kinty gave a tug and the pallet moved with him toward the loading ramp.

  “You think any of this sound gear could be worth anything?” Bonto said.

  Kinty nodded. “We could probably get a few bucks for it. Let’s get this loaded and we’ll come back.”

  Kinty used the lifter to spin the pallet around so he could push it down the ramp. Bonto followed, talking about how much he thought they could get for the amps and speakers still in the cargo bay.

  “Boy, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  The voice startled Kinty so much he almost let go of the lifter. He saw two Customs officials standing next to a marked vehicle, one white, one Hispanic. Both of them had hands on their guns but no one had drawn yet. The white one came around the passenger side door but kept the front of their vehicle between himself and Kinty.

  “You just put that pallet down at the base of the ramp and you,” he said pointing at Bonto, “get your hands up.”

  Kinty watched Bonto raise his hands and he maneuvered the pallet to the base of the ramp. Bonto threw him a wink and Kinty spoke up.

  “What can we do for you officers?”

  “For starters, you can get them hands up and step away from the pallet. Come on now, do what I tell you.”

  Kinty raised his hands and stood still. “No problem, officer. Our boss told us to come out here and unload some of this stuff. We don’t want any trouble. I got his number right here, if you want to speak with him.”

  The officer doing all the talking stepped around from behind their vehicle and walked toward Kinty and the pallet. His partner kept an eye on Bonto. “I’m Carlton. That’s Gutierrez,” he said nodding toward the other officer. “What have you all got in here?”

  Kinty shook his head. “I really don’t know. Like I said, the boss just said to unload the ship so we came on out here with the truck and started pulling stuff off.”

  The Customs officer stole a look into the back of the truck. “Must have just got started because I don’t see anything else back there.”

  Kinty nodded. “That’s right.”

  The officer put his hands on his gun belt and eyed him. “Why don’t you lift the tarp and we’ll all see what your boss wants.”

  “Don’t you need a warrant?”

  The officer narrowed his eyes. “We’re with Customs. Until that ship gets inspected we don’t need a warrant. Now, lift the tarp.”

  “Oh sure, I got you,” Kinty said. “I’ll have to bend down here to loosen up this cord.”

  The officer adjusted his hat. “Well, get to it. The sun isn’t getting any cooler.”

  Kinty bent down behind the pallet and shoved hard. It slid forward and he switched off the power to the lift, dropping the load onto one of Carlton’s feet. The officer howled in pain and Gutierrez drew his weapon, as his partner screamed.

  Bonto moved sideways, away from the commotion and got to his gun. He pulled and got a shot off at the Hispanic officer, catching him in the chest. The man in the Custom’s uniform screamed and dropped to the ground. Bonto turned back to Kinty and the other Custom’s officer.

  Kinty ducked, trying to keep as much cover between him and the officer as possible. He moved carefully around the pallet, wary of the yowling officer with the crushed foot. The officer had a grip on the tarp with his left hand to hold himself upright. Kinty saw blood seeping into the packed sand from the corner of the plastic pallet. The base of the pallet had caught the officer across the arch of his right foot and had him stuck fast. He noticed the officer’s hat lying in the dirt and saw a gun rising in his right hand. The cop snapped off a shot that went wide of Kinty’s head and he ducked.

  The Custom’s officer groaned in pain again and Kinty heard more shots. Several hit the sand next to him but the cop couldn’t get the angle right. He heard one final shot and the officer screamed and fell to the desert floor.

  Kinty stood up and saw Bonto standing nearby with a smoking pistol. “Thanks.” He pointed at the officer lying on the ground. “Did you see that tough sonofabitch shooting at me?”

  “Yeah, but you had a good idea trapping him with the pallet.”

  Kinty could feel the adrenaline surge starting to subside now that the action was over and he let out a deep breath. Then Bonto’s head evaporated in a pink and red cloud.

  Kinty stepped back in shock and another shot threw him backward onto the concrete pad. His hands went to his lower abdomen and came away stained bright red with blood. He gasped for air and stared into the bright sunlight. A shadow fell across him, and he saw Gutierrez staring down at him. The officer kicked his gun away and bent down to grab his face in a tight grip.

  “You so much as twitch and I’ll send you to meet up with your friend. You understand me?”

  Kinty nodded and then he screamed as the full force of the pain finally hit him. Gutierrez rifled through his clothes, searching for more weapons, then, mercifully, he passed out.

  — «» —

  Carlton woke up in the hospital and stared at the ceiling, trying to get his bearings. He rolled his head to the side and saw Sergeant McNamara sitting in a chair reading something on her mobi. She smiled.

  “How are you feeling?” She said.

  He started to talk and his voice croaked. McNamara held up a finger. “One second, the doctor said your throat may be sore.” She poured a cup of water from a pitcher and handed it to him. He sucked it through a straw and it tasted better than anything he’d ever had. He cleared his throat.

  “Gutierrez?”

  She nodded and smiled. “He’s fine. Caught a bullet in his vest and he’s got a hell of a bruise but he’ll be all right.” She glanced down at the foot of his bed. His gaze followed to see his elevated and bandaged right leg. He tried to wiggle his toes but didn’t feel anything. He glanced back at McNamara and she held up a hand. “Hold on,” she said. “Let me get the doctor in here.”

  She returned a moment later with a young doctor dressed in a brilliant white coat. He swiped a finger over his mobi as he went over the injuries. The doctor said most of his right foot had been partially amputated due to the injury from the pallet. He shouldn’t worry, though. They could grow him a new one, good as new. With a smile and a reassuring pat on the arm, he left the room.

  Gutierrez came in next and pulled up a chair next to the bed. He wore a white t-shirt and gray workout pants.

  “Tough break, man. Sorry about your foot.”

  Carlton swallowed. “The doc says I’ll be down for three months while they put it back together.”

  “Would have been worse if we hadn’t been wearing our vests.”

  Carlton let out a deep breath. “I guess so. I didn’t even think of that. They shot me too, didn’t they?”

  “Yeah, you’ll feel it later when the pain meds wear off. The same bastard that shot me got you in the left side. You’ll want to be careful and not move too much. Your rib cage pretty much looks like this.” He slowly lifted his t-shirt and Carlton saw an ugly purple and red bruise on the left side of Gutierrez’s chest.

  “Holy shit. What were those guys after?”

  Gutierrez’s face got more somber. “Diamond K. A whole pallet’s worth, all bagged up and ready for sale on the street. It’s wo
rth millions.”

  Carlton let out a low whistle. “So they were distributing it with that ship?”

  Gutierrez nodded. “That’s what we think. Obviously those two guys tried to unload it from the ship prior to the inspection. We’ll know more in a day or so after we talk to Bone Daddy, the singer who owned the ship.”

  “We got him?”

  “Yeah, Protective Services on Mars already had him on a vagrancy charge. They’re sticking him on a flight back here so we can question him.”

  Carlton grimaced. “Well, good bust or not, I wish I hadn’t lost my damn foot.”

  Gutierrez gave him a little smile. “I know buddy, but at least it’s only your foot being regrown.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That asshole who dropped the pallet on you? When you went down you took a shot at him and blew his pecker clean off.” Gutierrez gave him a wicked smile. “He’s on the next floor down recovering.”

  “No way.”

  Gutierrez nodded and kept grinning. “Look at it this way. You’ll get three months of desk duty and a new foot. He’s got to wait for the Department of Corrections to decide if they want to pay for a new johnson.”

  Carlton nodded. “I guess things could be worse.”

  Chapter 11

  Nathan, Cole and Duncan stood under the canopy that housed Eldridge’s work station and the table where they had eaten lunch. Ari supervised some ‘bots at a pile, in the distance, while Eldridge repaired a ‘bot at his workbench. Cole threw a small rock and it bounced along the ground, scaring a small lizard from its hiding spot behind a boulder.

  Nathan heard Eldridge say, “Oh what now?”

  All three of them turned and saw a float truck inbound to the camp. Nathan stood up straight. Cole and Duncan joined him.