Web of Extinction

by John Conroe

  “I do know, firsthand. So she only had a hunch, yet she never warned me?”

  “She said that if she warned you every time she thinks things are bad, you’d either never get anything done or you’d label her as the girl who cried wolf.”

  “But she felt it was a big enough threat to have you move the LAV down here to the city?” I asked.

  He smiled. “That’s the thing. See, we were already planning to bring the old war wagon down to get some work done. Dad’s been putting it off, but we decided a week ago that it had to get done before, you know, everything goes to shit. Anyway, she knew we were coming down, at least to Connecticut, where our heavy fabricator guy is. So she told us we should maybe test drive the old girl here in Brooklyn, today. Then about an hour ago, she came right into our communications suite and told us you two were in real trouble.”

  “So she hacked your personal computers to get your schedules, called you, and talked you into some kind of standby status, then busted into your vehicle’s secure communication network to tell you it was going down?” I asked.

  “Exactly. Pretty cool, huh?” he asked, clearly impressed.

  “Not shocking at all. You haven’t met her yet, have you?”

  “No. But I really want to. Will you introduce me?” he asked, looking just a tiny bit uncertain. Guy was a national heartthrob and here he was nervous about Harper. “Sure,” I said, feeling a tiny twinge of something.

  “Cool,” he said, sitting back and smiling.

  I sat back as well, analyzing that little burst of emotion I had felt. Jealousy? Not really—I was with Astrid, the person I’ve wanted to be with all my life. But it felt a little like jealousy. Or was it envy? Perhaps that was it. Harper was an amazing person, so smart and extremely loyal to the very few people she called friend. But it was more complicated than that. It was a tiny bit of misgiving too, like maybe I should be careful introducing JJ, who had had a lot of girlfriends, to Harper, who hadn’t had a single boyfriend. Yeah, something like that, maybe mixed with envy that JJ might have a shot. The vehicle rocked hard to one side and I rolled with it, tight in my harness. But Harper was extraordinarily smart, extremely wary, and not very trusting. She could handle herself, even with a womanizer like JJ. Hell, she was way, way smarter than he was, and when I thought about it honestly, he wasn’t truly a real womanizer, not really. Women threw themselves into his path and he dated some of them. But none of them had lasted. Beyond that, he was a pretty good guy who always treated me decently, as opposed to Martin, who’d been a douche most of the time I had known him. Martin had been better in the last few months, but I wasn’t going to spend any time hanging out with the guy. On the other hand, I could see having a beer with JJ.

  “SUVs are closing the distance.” Martin’s voice came through the headset. Ah, open team channel. Hadn’t known that. Glad I didn’t say anything wrong, like something about Martin being an asshat.

  “Be advised there are additional vehicles operated by employees of Calvin Shussman setting up at a construction site ahead of your current path of travel,” a new voice suddenly said over the LAV system. Martin, Brad, and JJ all turned to me, questions on their faces.

  “Thank you, Rikki. Can you provide updates as we get closer, or insights from their communications?”

  “Of course, AJ.”

  “Rikki saved us back at the container terminal,” Astrid said over the comm. Actually, I think he took out the sniper using the Redhawks but I wasn’t sure of that and didn’t want to dwell on what it would mean if he had. At least not yet. And I sure wasn’t going to announce it to the Johnsons.

  “Well, if they think four or five dinky cars are going to stop us, then they’re idiots,” Martin said.

  “AJ, based upon orders from Calvin Shussman, who is apparently in one of the two SUVs behind you, the rules of engagement are not to fire directly upon the LAV, at least until the Johnsons fire upon them first.”

  “Rikki, are any news drones in the area?” I asked.

  “Hundreds. The fight at the docks has been reported by citizens two hundred fourteen times in the last hour and counting. Every major news agency has multiple UAVs searching for signs of the conflict or chase.”

  “Rikki, what is the probability that Shussman wants this LAV to open fire on his forces first?”

  “Close to ninety-nine percent.”

  “Trying to control public opinion before word gets out that he is one of the architects of the drone attack,” Brad said. “Make us out to be the rogues endangering the public. I’ve spoken to the mayor and police commissioner. They are both facing crazy pressure from federal sources to not interfere in this attack, despite it being all-out warfare in the streets of the city.”

  “Are they going to cave, Dad?” Astrid asked.

  “I don’t see how they can,” he said. “Too many eyes are watching armed men running around with military weapons trying to kill Ajaya and you. Plus, I’ve contacted Trinity. We still have cameras mounted on board. They went live five minutes ago.”

  Now I was really glad I hadn’t said anything off-key. We were suddenly a live episode of Zone War: Part Two.

  Brad suddenly touched his headphones, listening to someone else. Then he turned back my way. “So they just attacked you at the cruise ship ceremony?” he asked.

  Yup, the show was running.

  “Yeah. First they got our security team called away,” I said, recognizing a production cue when I heard one. “They’ve got people high in the military who outrank local Zone Defense. Then a sniper started shooting at the cruise security team and the NYPD cops on hand. Killed them outright. We fled, egressed to the container yard. I think Rikki placed a copy of himself inside the container ship AI, which was still active for some reason, and Plum Blossom took over the dockside system. They fought each other and Shussman’s people while we concentrated on getting away. Then you picked us up. Shussman tried to get me to give myself up. I think he wants me to leverage Harper, who has real evidence against him.”

  “Last-ditch effort,” Brad said. “Might even have worked.”

  “Nah, he doesn’t know Harper. She’d never negotiate with him. I think she would have released everything immediately. In fact, I still think she might,” I said. “Not sure what she would still be waiting on?”

  “Maybe a full audience?” JJ asked, turning and pointing to a camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling.

  “AJ, you are rapidly approaching a convergence point with the hostile teams. Be advised that based upon communications I have intercepted, at least one team waiting for you is equipped with anti-armor weapons,” Rikki suddenly interjected. “Additionally, they are positioning heavy construction equipment and concrete barriers to contain your vehicle.”

  “Do you have access to a video feed?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  The largest monitor on Martin’s panel suddenly changed to a live feed from a news drone, a reporter speaking on air to her anchors in the local station. Martin turned around, eyes wide, hands moving away from his controls to show it was nothing he had done.

  “Lindsey, according to our sources, security forces from Zeus Global are attempting to stop the fugitives responsible for attacking police and cruise line personnel—Ajaya Gurung and the entire Team Johnson family,” the onsite reporter said.

  “Tara, are you aware that Zone War is transmitting live from inside the Johnsons’ armored vehicle and that they indicate that Zeus Global personnel are the true attackers?” the anchor replied.

  “Ah, no. No I was not aware of that. Lindsey, what are they doing now?”

  “Apparently, watching your broadcast from inside their LAV. The production company has, according to the producers, muted their conversation so as not to give away their strategy.”

  “Lindsey, are they still on I-278 or did they get off?” Tara the reporter asked.

  “Tara, they are continuing to approach the blockade point, not slowing down, and are bypassing all the off-ram
ps.”

  “Okay, you heard the lady,” Brad said. “Time to plan our attack. If we’re going to get hacked by that AI of yours, Ajaya, we’re damned well going to use it.”

  “No wonder you ruled the Zone,” JJ said, grinning. “Having Rikki on your side is a major game changer.”

  “Yes, yes, it is,” I agreed.

  Chapter 31

  Shussman’s people were set up right on I-278. They must have blocked onloading traffic farther behind us on the highway because there wasn’t a single car on either side when I looked through the tiny armored windows. I was up front, standing on a slightly raised platform, holding a a Barret Light Fifty anti-material rifle whose barrel poked out the right-hand firing port. To my left, JJ also stood on a raised platform, his 11mm e-mag rifle pointing out the left-hand firing port. But while he faced forward, I faced the rear of the vehicle. The firing port turrets could turn three hundred and sixty degrees. In front of us were two new black SUVs, a black pickup truck with a blue tarp across the back, a robotic excavator, and two big self-driving dump trucks. Molded concrete construction barricades blocked off the entire width of the road ahead. My view showed just the two ominous black SUVs holding a steady position seventy-two meters behind us.

  Martin was still watching his sensor screens and Brad was back in the commander’s chair, but neither of them were touching any controls. Sitting just ahead of JJ and me, Astrid slowed the heavy vehicle down as we closed on the concrete barricade and the men crouched down behind it.

  The LAV came to a gradual stop and for a long moment, nothing happened.

  “AJAYA GURUNG, ASTRID JOHNSON, BRAD JOHNSON, JEFFREY JAMES JOHNSON, AND MARTIN JOHNSON. POWER OFF YOUR VEHICLE AND SURRENDER YOURSELVES,” a bullhorn bellowed from behind us, Calvin Shussman’s voice in god mode.

  Overhead, in a veritable cloud of machinery, countless news drones hovered or flew tight circles around the confrontation.

  Brad reached forward and touched a button on his panel. “CALVIN SHUSSMAN, DROP YOUR WEAPONS. YOUR ASSAULT ON CIVILIAN AND LAW ENFORCEMENT PERSONNEL IS OVER. AS I SPEAK, OVERWHELMING VIDEO, AUDIO, AND EMAIL EVIDENCE IMPLICATING YOU IN THE DRONE NIGHT ATTACK CONSPIRACY IS DISSEMINATING TO THE WORLD VIA THE INTERNET.”

  If I turned my head, I could watch the screen at Brad’s station, while JJ could do the same with his brother’s monitor. The rear camera on the LAV currently showed the same image I was watching through my high-powered rifle scope.

  Shussman was talking on a phone, the bullhorn hanging from his right hand at his side. He gestured violently with the horn, clearly yelling into the phone. Finally, in a fit of rage, he threw the phone down and turned to one of his men, yelling some more.

  With a shrug, the tactically attired operator lifted a long, slender tube from the back cargo area of one of the SUVs.

  “Russian Rasputin Mark 4 anti-armor, triple warhead,” Martin announced casually.

  “Hmm,” Brad acknowledged, pausing to take a sip of coffee from a stainless-steel mug.

  “Dad, guy in the front group just pulled the tarp off the back of that truck. Looks like a HJ-12 Chinese Red Arrow,” Astrid reported.

  “Good missile. Old but good,” JJ said. “I have a bead on the guy in front.”

  “I’m clear on the Rasputin,” I said, thumbing my safety to off.

  “Hold tight, both of you. Let’s see how this plays out,” Brad said. “Ajaya, your buddy is still on this, right?”

  “Affirmative, Colonel Johnson. As you might say… I have this,” Rikki said through our headsets and, if our information was correct, live out into the rest of the world.

  The hired killer in my sights lifted the heavy missile onto his shoulder and tucked his head down against the sight. Almost instantly, I heard an electrical hum and buzz on the roof of the LAV almost over my head.

  “He’s fir—” I got out, and then flame gushed from the front of the missile. Immediately there came a ripping buzz from overhead and fire exploded all over the ground, air, and space in front of the shooter. Simultaneously, behind me and outside the armored vehicle, I heard and felt a single massive thump that shook the ground. “Oh yeah!” JJ yelled.

  I looked away from the rifle scope, the glare too strong to look at, turning my head to watch Brad’s monitor. Split screens showed me the rearward missile shooter rolling around on the ground, his body engulfed in flames while the other monitor showed the back of the pickup smashed flat by the massive excavator bucket.

  “Both anti-armor threats nullified,” Rikki reported.

  Shussman was freaking out, yelling desperately at his people while moving for one of the two vehicles. I put the crosshairs on the hood of the left-hand car and fired, immediately moving the rifle to the hood of the second one and sending one more heavy round downrange.

  Both vehicles’ hoods exploded upward as the big .50 caliber bullets easily penetrated the battery compartments, the front electric motors, and the heavy lead shielding that protected the passengers’ internal organs from excessive electromagnetic energy. People scrambled to get away from the cars and Shussman, himself, dove for the ground, hands covering the back of his head.

  Above me, I heard the M-134 mini gun turn around on its gimbal mount, the spinning of the barrels loud enough to hear through the armor. Immediately, the shooters at the barricades dropped their weapons and went hands up.

  Mere moments later, about a thousand cop cars careened into the space around us while a swarm of law enforcement drones swept into the sky above, forcing the news UAVs to pull back.

  At that point, one of the big self-driver dump trucks suddenly started rolling forward, driving over and crushing one of the SUVs as it headed for us. The massive excavator lifted its bucket off the crushed pickup and knocked the truck over onto its side. The action was over.

  Chapter 32

  The cleanup was tedious. First we had to stand down the LAV, which actually meant having Rikki shut down the Ping weapons control unit he had taken over, as well as turning off the excavator.

  City facilities personnel climbed into the cab of the still-running dump truck and shut it down.

  Then we were all taken to police headquarters, where we were separated and interrogated for hours. Sarah Jarit got there in minutes flat, but even she couldn’t speed up the pace of the investigation. Brad Johnson had his own law firm on hand, so each of the Johnson clan was well represented.

  “Okay, Ajaya, let’s go through it again,” my new personal nemesis, Detective Ophelia Satterly said.

  “Is this really necessary, Detective?” Sarah interjected. “You’ve been through it with my client seven times by my count. He’s been assaulted and shot at all day long. He’s exhausted, hungry, and needs more nutrition than a stale cinnamon bun and burnt coffee.”

  “We gave him bottled water too,” Satterly’s partner, Thad Affrond, said defensively.

  Satterly, who was clearly in charge, looked from her partner to me and then to Sarah. She actually appeared to be considering it. “Alright. We have enough for the moment. But don’t go far, Mr. Gurung. This investigation isn’t over.”

  Too tired to open my mouth, I just gave her a little nod. Then Sarah was leading me out of the interrogation room and down to the police garage, where she had parked.

  “You’re not saying anything?” my attorney noted as we climbed into her car.

  “Too tired. And really, what’s there to say? We defended ourselves as best we could.”

  “Well, Ajaya, in this case, it is just how well you both defended yourselves that is part of the issue. And don’t forget, multiple NYPD officers died or were wounded in that attack. The department is up in arms, particularly because it was held back from responding by the feds. And none of this even touches what’s been happening outside the station’s walls.”