Jett's holoband flashed when he approached the doorway. The sensor blinked, allowing him entry into the building. He peered down the dimly illuminated stairwell.
"Can't tell who's in here or how many."
Incognito's voice buzzed over the line. "Remember your training. Use the sweepers."
"Right." Jett tapped the panel, activating the scanning probes. Two small, pyramid-shaped sensors fired from his gauntlets, floating through the air. They zipped down the stairwell into the darkness, scanning the building as they traveled. The volumetric readings were transferred to Jett's g-span display, which projected the data into a three-dimensional model, slowly mapping out the entire complex.
Jett sat on the top stair, waiting for the sweepers to finish. "So. You must have worked with Wayne Thomas."
"I don't know who that person is."
"Okay. Vigil, then."
"That's better. Never use legal names, especially not over a com line. There are…listeners."
"Listeners?"
"Sentries. Spies in the employ of the Haven Secret Service Corp, or HSSC for short. They are everywhere, and they are nowhere. They listen, record, and report. This line is clean, but get in the practice of being careful what you say. No matter where you are."
"I…didn't know."
"You're new here. You'll learn. Haven Core tolerates the existence of Neo York, but that doesn't mean they wish us well. Remember that."
"What do they have against the city?"
"Neo York exists outside of United Havens law. You slept through the destruction, but in the aftermath, the United States weren't so united anymore. Large states like California and Texas declared their independence. Smaller states out west like New Mexico and Arizona were swallowed by the Mexican States of America. Most of the Heartland states were wiped out, leaving the territory open to new native tribes and outlaws. And the South rose again, winning their independence with little resistance. United Havens consists mostly of the colonial and Commonwealth states, governed by Haven One in DC. The UH likes to keep things insular. As far as they're concerned, civilization doesn't exist outside of their well-regulated Haven states. Ungoverned territories like Neo York remind them of their inability to control things. "
"That's not what the Havens were designed for. They were supposed to preserve the best of humanity, not imprison them."
"Things don't always go the way they're planned. Just be careful, is what I'm saying. The HSSC doesn't poke their nose in York business often, but when they do, it gets messy."
Jett glanced at his display. "Looks like the sweepers are finished." He studied the holographic diagram. "Place looks empty on the top floors, save for a few roving guards." He pointed to the red-outlined moving dots. Most of the activity is on the main warehouse floor."
"That's where Kane will be."
"Okay, I'm moving in."
Jett descended the stairs, pausing only to knock out the guards along the way with a tranquilizer or a well-timed electrical pulse from his g-spans. He made it to the main floor undetected, leaving several unconscious bodies behind. Gazing down from a guardrail on the upper level, he had a clear view of the operation.
Contraband weapons were assembled on lines, packed in boxes, and loaded onto waiting trucks. Railguns, bioguns, and standard military firearms were processed like meat in a factory by at least twenty workers. Six armed guards watched the operation at different stations. Jett caught sight of Kane, standing in front of an office door with his muscular arms folded. Green dragons sparkled on his skin.
"C'mon, speed up. Boss wants shipment yesterday. Move your sorry asses."
Jett, crept closer, careful to remain unseen.
Incognito's voice buzzed over. "This is it. Use the railgun, take the target out. You can be gone before the rest of them know what happened."
"What, and leave all these weapons? They'll be out in the streets, in the hands of killers. Can't let that happen."
"That's not what you're here for, Jett. You're not ready for this kind of a hit."
"I'm not leaving with this place still in operation. You can help, or you can sign off. Either way, I'm going in."
Incognito was silent for a moment. "Fine. Use the banshees. I've hacked into the electrical controls so I can use the lights to disorient them. Focus on the main objective and try not to get killed."
"Roger that." Jet fired sticky disks from his g-spans, aiming at columns around the warehouse. "Activate banshees."
The warehouse exploded in high-pitched shrieks. The sonic force shattered the glass on several vehicles. The workers screamed, clutching their ears and running for the exits. The guards fared no better, holding their heads as they frantically tried to pinpoint the source of the noise. After five seconds the wailing ceased, but the damage was done.
"Disco time," Incognito said.
The lights flickered rapidly, creating a disorienting effect of jerky movements between flashes of light and dark. Neither the lights nor sound affected Jett, protected by his helmet. He rose up, aiming the railgun. Clicking the auto target illuminated each vehicle, conveyor belt, and weapon stockpile in red. One pull of the trigger directed the gun to fire continuously until every target was hit. The rifle hummed with each charge, discharging shots with a sizzling sound. The rounds exploded on impact, blooming fire and debris throughout the depot.
Jett leaped over the railing, planting his boots directly into Kane's shoulders and bowling the big man over. They both tumbled down the short aluminum steps and landed a few feet away from each other. Jett sprang back up, firing a pulse blast at the nearest guard, who skidded across the slick floor several yards before hitting a wall. A second blast took down another. The rest of the security crew followed the workers out the exit.
Something like heavy punches to the back slammed into Jett, knocking him down. He stifled a groan, using the pulse blasters from his g-spans to launch himself upright. A second barrage struck where he had just been, ricocheting off the concrete. Kane knelt behind a pile of burning crates, firing volleys Jett's direction. He had donned a combat helmet with a lowered visor, protecting him from the flicker vertigo. The entire warehouse seared in flames, but Kane didn't seem to care. Shadows danced across his sweat-drenched frame as he continued firing.
Jett ducked behind a concrete pillar, grateful that he wore the trench coat as suggested. His back felt like it had been beaten with hammers, but it was better than being perforated by bullets. He hunched down as chunks of debris showered from Kane's continuous shooting. Jett placed a hand to his headset. "Can you shut the lights completely down?"
"I can."
"Blind him."
The lights clicked off with a groan, leaving a bright afterglow in their absence. Jett sprang from his shelter, rolling to the side as Kane continued to fire sightlessly.
Raising the railgun, Jett lined the scope directly at Kane.
Incognito buzzed in his ear. "What are you waiting for? Take the shot!"
Jett pulled the rifle to the side and fired. The nearby stack of crates exploded, crushing Kane under their weight.
"You can turn the lights back on."
Jett strolled over to where Kane lay pinned. He stood over him, aiming his rifle at Kane's face.
"Remember me?"
Kane spat blood at Jett's feet. "Remember you. In the alley. Vigil. Thought I killed you."
"I'm feeling pretty good for a dead man."
"What you want? Me to beg?" Kane snatched the helmet from his head. Blood fanned across his face, but he glared at Jett with glistening eyes. "Go ahead and pull trigger. Think I'm scared of hell? Every day is hell, mofo. Do it. Do it."
The flames created ripples of light that played across Kane's profile. For an instant his features seemed to change, altering into Jett's own face staring back at him.
"Do it!"
Raise hell, die well.
Jett took a startled step back, shaking his head. He raised his g-span and fired a shock charge from the gauntlet. Kane's body rocked and
went limp.
Incognito angrily clicked over the com. "What are you doing, Jett? You were supposed to take him out permanently."
Jett walked past fallen guards toward the exit. He saw the emergency panel and approached it.
"If you let this punk live, Wayne will have died for nothing. You hear me, Jett?"
Jett opened the panel and turned the system back on. The fire suppression jets immediately activated, spraying cloudy streams of dry chemicals. Jett walked out of the warehouse in a cloud of billowing smoke as the flames were snuffed out.
"Jett. The job's not done. You owe it to Wayne, remember? You made a promise at his grave."
Jett deactivated the helmet, removing the headgear as the panels slid back. "I promised to get the guy that got Wayne. But on my terms. Not yours."
Incognito's voice was still audible, a mosquito voice buzzing from the headgear. "Jett? Jett!"
Jett thrust the headgear in his jacket and tucked the railgun under his arm. Sirens wailed, lights flashed from the sky as drones lowered to survey the incident. Jett pulled his knit hat on and lowered his head, sticking to the shadows as he picked up his pace.
A car squealed to a stop on the street ahead of him. Jett froze and reached for the railgun when the door slid upward.
No one was inside.
His holoband vibrated. Jett took the call.
Incognito's voice was strained. "Auto-cab. Get inside and go home, Jett. I don't think we'll be talking again." The call clicked off.
Jett got in the cab. It squealed off and drove down the wounded streets, jolting with every crack and pothole. Jett ignored it. His mind was far away, flung across time to the last ride of the Hellrazors and the dying of the world.
Chapter 8
Agent Ronnie Banks walked onto the grounds of another disaster. Warehouse in the Grindbox district. Smoke wafted from windows as if the place had been set on fire. She prayed that her morning wouldn't start with the sight of charred bodies. It would really spoil her appetite for breakfast.
She glanced around the neighborhood. "If we get warrants to check these warehouses, how many do you think are housing contraband?"
"Seventy-eight percent," Isaac said as he scanned the vicinity. His mechanical eyes recorded everything he saw, providing complete and accurate records for their cases.
"Really? I'd have guessed higher. Why only sixty-eight?"
"Because thirty-two percent of these buildings are abandoned."
She laughed. "Figures."
Sauntering over to the local RCE crew, she tapped the shoulder of the man giving orders. He glanced down at her with a wry grin.
"Agent Banks. Still fighting the good fight."
"Always, Captain Hardy. Mind telling me why you woke me from my beauty sleep? You boys can't handle a simple warehouse fire?"
"Thought you might be interested in this one. Saw you had a biogun incident in the Warrens a few nights ago."
"Yeah. Questioned a few toughs, but you know how that went."
He chuckled. "No squeal, no deal."
"You got it. Back on the streets in forty-eight hours."
"SAUL strikes again."
"You know it. I kinda think it might have been a bad idea to let a System-Assigned Unilateral Lawyer handle criminal cases."
"I'll take that understatement with a side order of contempt, Agent. But you know how it goes. The moment you complain, they trot out the numbers about how their artificial intelligent defense system has reduced the number of false convictions to nearly zero."
"Yeah, but it also puts a ton of toughs back out on the streets. Where's the justice in that?"
"You're preaching to the choir, sis. But before you reform the justice system, here's the deal with this scene: contraband firearms warehouse goes boom for no reason. We get here in time to arrest a number of scab workers and some low to mid-level toughs, including Mr. Jackson there."
He jerked a thumb at Kane, who was splayed down on his stomach with a pair of bored RCE troopers standing over him. He was cut, bruised, and covered with first-degree burns, but still managed to snarl and curse at the officers.
The rest of the soot-covered suspects were more subdued, lined up by the armored vans with their heads down.
Ronnie glanced at Isaac. "You wanna get the small fries?"
"Do I ever have a choice?"
"Sure you do. I mean, you will. One day." Ronnie walked over to Kane with a broad grin on her face. "Well, well. Virgil Kane, gift-wrapped and delivered, and it's not even Christmas. I'm told your DNA is all over this building and its contents, Virgil. Gun-running scores a one-way bid to Mars, and you just got caught red-handed. Hope you packed a toothbrush."
He craned his neck to glare up at her. "Shove it, pig. I got framed."
She motioned for the officers to set him up. "Yeah, I bet you did. A lot of high-profile weapons just went to slag up in there. What happened, rival gang clean you out?"
"No squeal, jade. Call a SAUL. Be out in twenty-four."
"I don't think so. Not with your record, and not with ironclad charges against you. Tell you what I can do, though. Cut you loose."
He gave her a wary glance. "Let me go?"
"Sure. The way I see it, your boss is gonna be pretty upset at your screw-up. Those firearms add to a pretty substantial loss. Someone has to pay for that. I'm thinking that person is gonna be you. So when the move is made, we can find out who the hitter is and keep moving up the food chain. You might not survive the process, but you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, right?"
His eyes darted back and forth. "I got rights."
"Yeah, you got rights. The right to pay the price for your actions. I don't care about you, Virgil. You're just another gear in the clockwork. You die, another gear takes your place." She knelt so she could look him directly in the eye. "And you will die if you don't start squealing like a newborn piglet. I don't care about your street code; I don't care about your tough-guy attitude. When your cold, mangled body washes up somewhere, I might be there to mop up the mess. But I won't bother to care. And neither will anyone else."
He swallowed, dropping his eyes. "Get me off the radar, I talk. Lock house, jade. ASAP."
"Virgil Kane, you got yourself a deal." She gestured to the officers. "Let's get him to a safehouse, gentlemen."
She watched as he was lifted up and escorted to a waiting police floater. Isaac joined her a few seconds later.
"Think he'll talk?"
"I don't think he has a choice. We might catch a break here, Isaac."
"Well, while you were making friends, I was doing some real RCE work. Most of the workers are your usual scabs. Just trying to make some v-notes; didn't know anything, wasn't told anything. But a couple of the guards opened up a bit."
Ronnie smiled. "Look at you, being relatable."
"It's strange how people are. They see me as a robot; they open up to me. Faster than they would a human."
"Don't talk like you're something else, Isaac. Anyone talk about what happened?"
"Sounds like a single assailant was responsible. Shut down the system, so no security records. Systematically took out the guards from the rooftop down, then used a combination of sonic and light disorientation, and some high-tech pulse weapons. Most of the major damage was done by railgun. Looked to be the same type they manufactured here."
"Must have gotten it off one of the guards. Guy sounds like a major player. What hitters do we know with that kind of M.O.?
"I don't think it was a hitman at all."
Ronnie gestured to the damage. "Seriously?"
"Think about it. Not a single person was killed. The major damage was concentrated on the caches of weapons."
"Rival hit, then. Another gang wanted to take out his competition."
"Perhaps."
Ronnie's exasperated stare reflected off of Isaac's metallic face. "Perhaps? What does that mean?"
"It's very strange. I can't think of anyone in the business who cares about coll
ateral damage. The use of non-lethal force to subdue when one can just as easily kill doesn't add up."
Ronnie sighed. "So what's your working theory on the situation?"
"I'm still running algorithms."
"Yeah, well you do that. Meantime, I have a perp to interrogate. And for once, I think this one might actually live long enough to tell up who he's working for."
An explosion rocked the vicinity, sending the RCE ducking for cover. Isaac snatched Ronnie off her feet, carrying her under his arm as he darted across the street, dodging the metallic debris that rained down. Ronnie twisted around, eyes widening. The remains of the armored floater slammed into the concrete, wreathed in smoke and flame.
Ⓥ
" Good evening. You're with Cam Danvers on another NYN news Fast Break. In tonight's breaking news, a police transport vehicle was viciously attacked, leaving two officers and a suspect in their custody dead. The suspect was Virgil Kane, a repeat offender with a string of prior charges including armed assault. The attack is reportedly another reprogrammed drone strike, giving rise to the outcry over the use of armed drones by the Neo York RCE. We have reporter Jeff Stevens at the scene of the chaos…"
Ronnie groaned, burying her face in her hands. "This is unbelievable." She clicked the picjector off. Her office darkened to a level appropriate for her mood, casting her meager furnishings in shadow.
"No one caught a peep of the shooter. Don't know if it was one hitman or a dozen. We're down to nothing to show for the whole thing."
Isaac gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Look at the bright side. At least you weren't a part of the convoy."
"Gee, thanks. Two shields down, and I'm supposed to feel good that one of them wasn't me?"
"Live to fight another day, kiddo."
"How can you say that? After everything you've been through?"
"It's either that or pull the plug." Isaac smiled. "You'll feel better in the morning."
She lifted her head. "Yeah. Gotta fight the good fight."
"Go home, Agent. I'll file the report." He left, shutting the door behind him.
Ronnie leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I am home."
Knight in Cyber Armor Page 8
