The kick-ass return of Kat and Mouse
in...
A 6-Chapter Foray in Future-Noir!
by Abner Senires
About the author
******
Episode 5:
Daddy's Double-Crossing
Senior V.P.
The kick-ass return of Kat and Mouse
in...
A 6-Chapter Foray in Future-Noir!
by Abner Senires
About the author
******
Episode 5:
Daddy's Double-Crossing
Senior V.P.
"YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?" NATALIA SAID, her voice echoing in the empty
office.
"Yup," I said.
"How do you know?"
"Worked once."
"Worked once?
And you expect--"
I gave her The
Look.
"Okay, okay!"
she said, sitting back in her chair. "Don't freak."
I turned back out the palm-sized clean spot on the dirt-caked window of
the abandoned office building.
Two blocks north of us loomed the southeast towers
of Winn Town, Southside's three square mile collection of 23-story
residential housing projects. Six stories below me sat abandoned
storefronts and the occasional gutted metal hulk that would've passed
for a car in a nicer part of town.
Not here. Not in Southside.
I swallowed, fighting back the gnawing in my
gut. My stomach had been doing flip-flops since we drove in ten
minutes before. Unfinished business in the 'Zone.
But that would have to wait. I had other
things to worry about.
I looked back out through the clean spot. At
the end of the block a hundred meters away, Renaldi's BMW sat half-on,
half-off the curb at the corner of the intersection, its trunk angled
toward me. In the front seat, a pair of figures.
Good. Everything in place.
"So where--?" Natalia began.
Then I felt it. A dull thrum that rumbled up
from the floor and through my legs.
"Right on schedule," I said.
The aerodyne swung around the corner at the other
end of the block. It hovered above the intersection, level with
the tops of the other buildings along the street, two stories above
me. I could see the faint outline of the pilot in the cockpit,
lit by the dim glow of the instrument panel. Its searchlights
raked across the outside walls and finally swept up the street and
found the sedan.
The aerodyne's chaingun swung into place and howled,
spitting fire into the sedan. The car bucked under the impact,
spraying chunks of metal into the air. Then the gas tank caught
and a fireball rocketed out of the trunk with a dull whomp, flipping the car up and over.
I squinted against the flash and made a mental note
to pick up flare compensators for my optics when this was over.
The sedan fell back to the street on its roof,
flames licking the chassis. A moment later, the aerodyne dropped
altitude and started up the street toward the car.
Bingo.
The first time around, these guys assumed Mouse and
I were dead. They weren't going to make the same mistake
twice. They would make sure they had prepared for every
possibility. Of course, they'd never dealt with me.
I tugged at the window latch and yanked. It
slid open, grinding along its runner, and a blast of cold air whipped
at my face. The aerodyne passed under the window.
"Stay here," I said to Natalia. Then jumped
out.
A vertical fall is one thing.
A vertical fall onto a moving object is another.
I could hear Murphy's voice in my head: "What
the hell are you thinking?"
Murphy preferred simpler approaches. But I was
never a simple kind of gal.
I landed on top of the aerodyne in a crouch.
It shuddered under me and suddenly came to a stop. I heard a door
slide open to my left, saw a pair of gloved hands grip the edge of the
roof and a helmeted head pop up. The secman went saucer-eyed --
not everyday that a meter-ninety of dark-haired Amazon lands on the
roof of your aerodyne.
He stared. I cracked my boot into the middle
of his face. His head snapped back and I heard his scream fade as
he plummeted to the street below.
I swung into the cabin just as another helmeted,
black fatigue-clad secman went for his sidearm. Too late.
One of The Twins, Bonnie, leaped into my hand and
spat four times, thunder echoing in the enclosed space.
He crumpled in a heap against the bulkhead.
The other Twin, Clyde, sprang into my left hand as I
spun toward the cockpit. Both Twins nuzzled up against the heads
of the pilot and co-pilot.
"Hi, choom," I said. "Come here often?"
"Fucking bitch--!"
The co-pilot reached for his gun.
They never learn.
Bonnie roared again, belching fire. The
co-pilot's head sprayed gore and gray matter onto the cockpit
wall. He slumped in his seat. The pilot whimpered and threw
his hands up. The two-way radio at my belt crackled.
I slid Bonnie back into my rig, keeping Clyde
trained on the pilot, and pulled the radio out.
"Oh my god!" Natalia said. "It worked.
Those stupid mannequins
worked."
"Told you," I replied.
I don't know what Fast Eddie was still doing with a
bunch of department store mannequins. Not my business.
At least he came through for me and Mouse.
"Meet us below," I said into the radio then clicked
off and turned to the pilot.
He whimpered again. I gave him The Smile. Slightly less
threatening than The Look.
It just makes people uneasy.
"Set us down," I said.
The pilot told me everything I needed to know.
He was surprisingly cooperative.
Then again, the threat of serious bodily injury from
twin hand cannons and a scattergun pointed at your face can loosen just
about anyone's tongue.
My cellphone chirped just as he finished
talking. I motioned for Natalia to keep the shotgun trained at
him, holstered The Twins, then pulled out my phone and stepped into the
aerodyne's cabin.
Renaldi.
"The Marina," he said. "Pier 42."
"We'll be there," I said and hung up.
Then I picked up the equipment-filled duffle bag I'd
found next to the body of the secman in the cabin.
"What now?" Natalia asked.
"We take the aerodyne."
Natalia nodded then gestured to the pilot.
"What about him?"
I thought a moment.
Through the cockpit windows, Winn Town stared back
at me. About as inviting as a trip to the bowels of hell.
I drew Bonnie and aimed it at the pilot's
head. He recoiled.
"You're going for a walk," I said. "But first, take
off your clothes."
"What!" he sputtered.
I shot him The
Look.
He peeled off his uniform. Natalia and I finished prepping with less than a
minute to spare.
Now, under a blanket of shadows atop a Marina
warehouse, we watched as two black ChrysFord luxury sedans parked at
angles next to a long row of rust-colored metal shipping containers in
front of Pier 42. The doors of the first sedan opened and a man
in a gray suit emerged. The contactman.
The sedan's driver and a second man followed Gray
Suit out of the car. Both wore dark suits.
Two more got out of the second sedan, also wearing
dark suits. Muscle. Kelly's men. Not impressed.
Not after what I'd seen so far.
A few seconds later, a silver Mitsubishi sedan
pulled up and Renaldi stepped out. I heard a gasp beside
me. I looked.
Natalia had clapped a hand to her mouth, eyes
wide. I put a finger to my lips.
She mouthed, "Sorry."
I nodded, glanced toward the pier, then turned to a
duffel bag sitting next to me, something I'd lifted from the
aerodyne. I reached in and pulled out a parabolic mike. I
aimed it at the gathering below and pulled on the earphones. I'd
be taking my cue from whatever happened below but I needed to hear what
was going on.
In this biz, timing counts.
As Renaldi started toward Gray Suit, the three
muscle spread out. One stepped back behind Gray Suit and stood to
one side. The other two flanked Renaldi. Their jackets were
unbuttoned. Ready to draw.
When Renaldi got within three meters of Gray Suit,
he said, "Far enough, Mr. Renaldi."
Renaldi stopped. "Let's get this over with."
"Payment first."
"Where's my daughter?"
"She's safe."
"Show me."
"I assure you, Mr. Renaldi. She's safe--"
"Show me,"
he boomed. His voice echoed off the shipping containers.
Gray Suit looked at him for a long moment, then
glanced toward the second sedan.
The car's back door opened and Kelly stepped
out. She yanked a blindfolded Mouse after her, a hand gripping my
partner's right arm. Just as I thought.
"Not very trusting, are we, Phillipe?" Kelly said.
"Deborah?" said Renaldi, surprise in his voice.
Kelly pushed Mouse in front of her, still holding
her right arm, and the two of them joined the others. "Here's the
little brat," Kelly said. "Satisfied?"
Beside me, Natalia sucked air in through clenched
teeth.
"What's going on, Deborah?" Renaldi said.
"The money," Kelly said.
"I demand an explanation."
Gray Suit unbuttoned his coat, drew it back,
exposing a pistol in a crossdraw holster.
"The money,"
Kelly said again.
Renaldi nodded and reached into his jacket...
"Slowly," Gray Suit said.
Renaldi pulled out a creditchip and held it up
between his thumb and forefinger.
"Put it on the ground," Kelly said, "and take two
steps back." Renaldi complied. Kelly nodded to Gray Suit.
He walked to the chip, picked it up, then pulled a
chipreader from inside his coat. He swiped the chip and studied
the display. "Ten mil," he said to Kelly.
Kelly smiled. "Thanks, Phillipe. You're
a doll."
"You've got your damn money," Renaldi said.
"Now let my daughter go."
"Of course, of course," Kelly said, stepped to one
side of Mouse, and kicked her in the back of the legs. Mouse
yelped and dropped to her knees. At the same time, Kelly drew a
semi-auto from inside her coat and shoved the muzzle against Mouse's
temple.
"What are you
doing?" Renaldi asked.
"Nice try, Phillipe," Kelly said. "Thought you
could pull a fast one on me?"
"What are you talking about?"
"This little bitch isn't your daughter.
Biometrics don't match." She cocked the hammer. "You set me
up, you bastard."
Shit.
I dropped the parabolic and ripped the headphones
off as Natalia clipped a line to an anchor bolted into the warehouse
roof.
I raised the grapnel launcher and fired the line at
the shipping container behind the tableau. The spear point hit
home with a clang and the
line went taut.
Everyone below turned toward the sound.
I reached for the handle of the speed pulley and
caught a glimpse of Mouse ripping the blindfold off, and bolting toward
Renaldi, her trenchcoat flapping out behind her.
A subvocalized command flooded my body with
adrenaline stimulators and the world slid into slo-mo.
I drew Bonnie from my shoulder rig and jumped off
the roof...***
***
Back
to Episode 4 :
Daddy's Business
On to Episode 6 : Senior V.P.
Goes Bye-Bye
Babysitting Blues is copyright by Abner Senires. It may not be copied without permission of the author except for purposes of reviews. (Though you can print it out to read it, natch.)