“Heh,” Spy said, a breath of amusement. Without waiting for me to agree, she leaped off the quad and into the dark. I saw through Spy’s ESP and night-vision, the world lower, close to the ground, everything bright and greenish.
She entered the shop, the world both dark and too bright where the men’s headband lights flashed. She paused in theshadows. The men had broken the glass cases, and if Anse kept his diamonds in the cases and not in a safe, then they had been stolen. The two men had shoved aside the back wall to reveal the safe. They were setting explosives.
Mateo cursed. “Shining? The one I wounded has unlocked the container where the prisoners were being kept. Hell. He has weapons.”
Bengal laughed. “It’s on, baby.” To me he added, “You go play with the cat. Me and your boy Mateo’ll go kill some dark riders.”
“Don’t ruin that cybot arm,” I said. “It cost me an arm and a leg.”
Bengal hooted and adjusted his suit, lifted his massive weapon from its temporary mount, and set off at a dead run for the container, saying, “Mateo, open fire. I’m coming up on your five.”
“Roger that.”
For a half second the sound of Mateo’s weaponry on full auto slipped past the helmet’s sound protectors and blasted my ears. I hardened my suit against small arms fire, skirted behind the overgrown shrubs, and up to the pawnshop’s open door. I was leaving behind Cupcake’s Meatchopper and quad. I needed a guard dog. I laughed silently. The cats would eat it.
Boots crunching softly on shattered glass, I slipped into the shadows inside the broken mangled door and to the right, away from the windows. I had two blasters, an old nine mil S&W, and built into my armored sleeve, the new toy based on a .308 Winchester holding three rounds. The recoil, even with my suit auto adjusting to fire, would be brutal. And I’d be lucky not to shoot off my own hand.
I stopped in a deeper shadow, seeing both lights in one space, probably still at the safe.Spy, I thought.Where are you?
She slithered through shadows, up to me, and wound once around my feet. She sat and looked up at me as if to say, “What’s next?”
I thought about the safe. About what was in it that might be so important the dark riders would leave behind their own people to come here. They had to know by now that things had gone horribly wrong at the church.
“Well, well, well,” a voice with a heavy New York accent said from the front.
“Holy shit. No wonder the commander wanted the contents of the safe,” another man said.
“Incoming riders,” Jolene said. “Shining, Mateo, ARVAC cams show six riders in armor, all matching dark rider bikes and uniforms.”
My helmet was closed, the two men couldn’t hear me. “Their commander sent backup, like a second string, if the first string ran into trouble. What’s the ETA of the Logan militia and Anse’s people?”
“They’re leaving the site where Cupcake was hit, Shining Sugah. They can’t move fast. The roads will joggle the bed of the truck and therefore the med-bay.”
“Send an alert. Anyone not in that truck get here fast. Wait. Two outriders remain as escort,” I amended.
“Roger that.”
Stepping silently over and past Spy, I got a good look at the men. Helmets ratcheted back. No gloves. Shielding off. Weak points for weapons of all kinds. I tapped on my external helmet speakers and braced my Dragon Scale armor to anti-recoil. With the Winchester set to auto aim, I pulled my right hand back, open, and out of the way as if saying “hi” or “stop”.
I said, “Howdy boys.”
Both of them turned to me, reaching for weapons. My nanobots made it look as if they moved in slow motion. I openedfire with the nine mil. In the same moment, I fired the .308 Winchester. Even with anti-recoil activated it kicked my arm to the side, knocking my aim off.
Tall and Bronx-y fell, one hand and his mid-chest pierced by a single .308 round. The second shot went wild. Shorter guy scuttled away as I fired. He took at least one nine mil round to his right shoulder armor. The round didn’t damage him. However, he slipped on broken glass and his feet flew out from under him. His head slammed into the safe. He was out cold.
Bent double, I stepped over and ripped shorter guy’s weapons from him. Made sure he was out, but breathing. I needed him. Tall and Bronx-y was dead. Putting away my weapons, I bent low and checked for ID. Nada. I deactivated their armor and ripped open both men’s shirts to reveal the military and dragon tattoo. Black ops. Former military, for sure.
I shined a light into the safe. “Bloody blasted hell,” I whispered.
“Shining Sugah,” Jolene said, seeing what I was seeing. “Gomez is not a happy camper.”
Outside in the streets, Mateo and Bengal opened fire. I didn’t react, but my suit muted the gunfire and hardened against penetration by wayward shots.
There was a hat rack to the side of the safe with scarves, hats, and totes on it. I removed all the totes, most with dogs faces or sparkles or bright flowers on them, and knelt in front of the safe. Removed the equipment. Stuffed my findings into the totes. I took anything that looked like space or alien tech and a few things that didn’t.
Anse had a lot of explaining to do. Possibly so did Mateo. He and Jolene had worked awfully hard creating his cushy ride so he could join me.
Though I didn’t want to think of Mateo keeping secrets, as a spaceship captain he had no choice. The number and locationof downed earth ships or Bug alien ships would be something he and Jolene would keep from me unless they had a real good reason to share. Exactly how many Bug alien spaceships had the USSS SunStar been facing when it went down? I realized I had no idea what had really happened in that last battle.
