by J M Guillen
“Tricky.” I took a drag as I thought. The transfer felt as if it only took a couple of seconds. Perhaps in that time I could get a bird’s eye view and then come back with a better idea of the lay of the land.
But.
What if it took longer? What if this asshole had enough time to radio for help after he saw the corpse of his buddy?
Also, I wasn’t done with the cigarette.
My decision got made for me when rapid bursts of automatic fire came from my distant left.
More shots answered, and I heard the roar of engines.
“Well, fuck this.” I took another drag on the cigarette and started up the FAV.
If I couldn’t come up with a way to do this quietly, maybe that option didn’t exist. I had a distinct advantage Sadhana didn’t know about, but if I didn’t hurry up and use it, what had been the point of setting this whole thing up?
I pulled out into the path ahead and opened the sandrail up.
“Wasn’t there another FAV parked over this way?” I muttered as I turned down a path that cut between two gigantic boulders and splashed through a series of murky puddles.
The sound of barking automatic fire came again.
Could that be Delacruz and Sil, trying to go on an offensive of their own? I frowned, worry nagging at my mind.
Now that I thought about it, it had been kind of an asshole move to not let Delacruz in on my plan with the Sadhana device. I’d thought that I didn’t have time to explain. Now, I realized that Sofia must be waiting for me to pick off hostiles, but she hadn’t heard any activity.
Well, I could change that.
Coming around the bend, I saw the FAV I had remembered, parked in the shade of an overhanging rock. The two gentlemen positioned there seemed stunned to see me pull up.
One of them spoke to his walkie-talkie.
“Alfonse?” I read the man’s lips as his voice crackled into my device. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“One of them hopped off their vehicle.” I did my best to sound frantic. “That’s why I’m alone. Guy killed my driver.”
Sometimes truth is the best way forward.
“Holy shit, really?” Both of the men peered around as if they expected a Facility ghost to lurch from the trees.
“The Padre sent me over. We’re supposed to start patrolling for his ass.”
“What about Lionel and Hodges?” As I pulled closer to the men, I saw them gesture up the road. “Should we get them in on it?”
“That’s the plan.” I stole closer to them. “Stop using the radio. We think that they’re listening on the frequency.”
“Makes sense.” The driver nodded. “That’s why the Padre didn’t raise us.”
“Yes.” My smile must have looked grim. That’s why.
They led the way up the road and pulled around the thick fallen trunk of a fungal tree.
I heard the sharp, shattered sound of bullets firing in the distance, answered by more gunfire.
We pulled up to the men, Lionel and Hodges I assumed, and a young black man in the driver’s seat gave us a dirty look.
“What’re you doing over here?” He eyed his partner, a man wearing patches all along his arm, and then turned back at us. “You’re supposed to be in position.”
“Right.” The driver from the first FAV pulled up right next to them.
“We got a rogue Facility asshole who hopped off the rail.” The speaker, a skinny runt with hard eyes, sat in the passenger seat. He jerked a thumb at me. “Killed Beckett.”
“No shit?” Patches spoke with a southern drawl. “What’s the play?”
“Holy—!” I widened my eyes with feigned surprise. “You hear that?” I looked up at the sky, as if I had been startled. Turning the engine off on my FAV, I hopped out and craned my head.
“I think that’s just their engine.” Patches spoke confidently, but he looked up as well.
I walked closer to them, inclining my head as if I listened to something no one else heard. I squinted, tilting my head nearly sideways.
“I want to get a better look.” I put one foot on the front of the second FAV and climbed up a little bit, trying to peer over the trees. With one hand, I pushed the button on my walkie-talkie and held it up to my mouth. “Padre, the Facility doesn’t have any fucking helicopters here, do they?”
“Helicopters!?” Patches looked at me as if I were an idiot. “What the fuck are you talking about, Alfonse?”
“Look!” I jerked my chin upward, and everyone turned, startled.
Deftly, while they gazed overhead, I pulled the pins on both of the grenades in my bandolier.
Confused, the men scanned the sky, and then glared back at me as if I were the world’s biggest fool.
I hurled myself forward, landing on the hoods of both FAVs.
“What the fu—?”
Five men, along with three FAVs, were consumed in the fiery wrath of an explosion.
It didn’t even hurt.
2
Moments later, I blinked, gazing down on the small valley and saw that everything had devolved into chaos.
“All according to my master plan.” I couldn’t help being a touch proud, especially about something I had just pulled out of my ass.
The two remaining rails kicked frantically into movement in an attempt to figure out what the hell had happened.
“It was a helicopter, guys.” I chuckled. “Damn invisible Facility helicopters.”
That had to be the cream on top. I couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of the Padre receiving a message from his men about a Facility helicopter, only to be followed by a massive explosion.
Across the field, a Sadhana FAV thundered on the heels of Sil and Delacruz.
Sofia rode backward in shotgun, her Calico in hand. She squeezed off a few rounds, forcing their pursuers to one side, where they jerked onto two tires while trying to avoid a gargantuan stone.
“Ha!” I grinned wildly, pleased to see Delacruz still held her own, even through cataclysmic pain.
“Who’s next?” I toggled my optics and used the binocular vision to look for my next opportunity to sow the seeds of discord.
Delacruz screamed, a sharp, agonizing sound.
Hurriedly, I looked back to them. A moment ago she had been capable of sitting up and firing the Calico, but as I watched, she collapsed back into the passenger seat and convulsed in what looked like epileptic fits.
“What the fuck!?” I didn’t think anyone had shot her. I expanded the visual on my optics and pulled back a little, trying to get a wider view.
“If there’s an Irrat pulling some kind of crazy shenanigans…”
The closest Sadhana rail to Delacruz and Sil had parked on a small rise, watching them. Almost as high above the valley as me, the passengers used the higher ground to keep tabs on my friends.
The passenger trained his scope on Delacruz but merely watched her intently as he continually tinkered with something he held on his lap.
When his driver said something to him, the man lowered his scope and turned to answer, giving me a perfect profile.
I smiled when I realized who I’d found.
“Why, hello there.” I sat up, trying to get a better view. As I confirmed his identity, I remembered Sofia’s request to kill the Padre.
She screamed again.
“Of fucking course.” I ground my teeth. It made sense. The Padre had given the command to take her alive. The idea that he held the technological gizmo that tracked us, and also caused Delacruz’s pain…
“She’s right.” I breathed the words softly. “You are a ben-day-hoe.”
I took Spanish in the ninth grade.
In an instant, I knew where I belonged. I scrunched down, lying low against the cool stone arch and, while staring at the Padre, pressed the button on my arm.
CLICK.
“—just take them whenever we want.” The man next to me had a square jaw and reflective sunglasses. “I don’t understand why we’re w
asting time. It’s not as if a couple of Assets and a mongrel are going to change what’s happening at the Breach.”
“If you needed to understand, you would.” I smiled at him.
Then I gazed down at the device in my lap.
Could this really be the cause of all of Delacruz’s problems? Boxy and thin, the device felt unusually heavy. It wasn’t terribly large, only the size of a paperback book. The top portion held a WWII-era green radar display.
My hand rested on a dial to one side with a label that read Correction, which had been set to eight. On the other side a sliding lever had a silver knob at the top. The word ‘Mag-lock’ ran next to it in large letters.
I growled internally at not being able to see my allies or their rail just now. I really wanted a visual on Delacruz before I began fiddling with this thing.
“I’m just saying, I get that Daisuke is a careful man, but things at the Breach will be all sewed up soon, no matter how long we keep playing fuck around with these Assets.”
“Playing fuck around?” I couldn’t help the tiniest grin. As far as I knew, that term happened to be a Wyatt Guthrie original.
“You know what I mean, Padre. I’m just saying…”
But I didn’t care about his braying, because at that moment Sil came careening into view, three FAVs directly on her six.
They whooped like drunken frat boys as they bounced over the rise behind her.
Delacruz slumped over in the seat. For a moment, the sight felt like icy shards in my mind, before I realized the truth:
Passed out, not dead.
I hoped, anyway. After all, I had just watched Sofia alert enough to force one of the rails to slam into a boulder, and immediately after—
She had screamed with pain. This asshole had amped it up, somehow, giving her a ‘fuck you’ as payback for being strong enough to power through his sadistic little game.
“—if you’re ready?” Square Jaw turned to me, obviously expecting an answer.
“Oh. One moment.”
I glanced back down at the device in my hand, and my gaze fell again on the dial labeled Correction. Then I turned it all the way to zero.
Almost immediately, Delacruz sat up straight, peering around in shock and relief. Laughing, she turned to Sil, a smile wide on her face. Then, she reached for her Calico.
“What the fuck?” Square Jaw peered at me again. “Not the time to be fucking around, Padre.”
Without answering him, I grasped the sliding Mag-lock lever and wrenched it to the bottom. If there were a chance, any chance at all, that this little thing could release the spiteful charm bracelet from her, I intended to play that hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” Uncomprehending disbelief laced his voice, but I paid him no heed. Instead, I peered out over the small valley, trying to get a glimpse of Delacruz.
Nothing. They were well out of view.
“Padre?” My driver’s voice dripped with angry suspicion and concern. “What is my first name?”
I stared at the man for a long moment, thinking. The Padre had no weapons at hand, nothing I could use to defend myself.
“Well.” I smiled. Then, instead of answering, I raised the device I held over my head and smashed it, again and again, against a metal siderail of the FAV.
“Motherfucker!” The goon’s eyes widened. He reached into a niche in the FAV’s rollcage and pulled out a small black object.
“Stop!” I reached for him, hoping that perhaps I could gouge out his eyes, choke him, something, anything.
But the man detonated the dampening grenade before I so much as brushed his skin.
WHUM. Shudders of sweet Rationality crashed against me, like the waves of a gentle sea. Cast out of the Padre’s body, I hurled back into my own.
However, this didn’t disturb me in the least.
Delacruz? Tell me you’re green.
Michael? I felt the profound relief in her link, something akin to joy. The damn thing came off! She wept. Did you do this?
For a moment I couldn’t even respond. The grin on my face almost split my cheeks in two.
Bishop?
I’ll take credit later, when we’re in a bar back home. I’ll tell the stories and you’ll buy the drinks.
I promise to listen and be amazed. She beamed, and not her sarcastic, snarky grin; I felt genuine relief and gratitude flood the link. Seriously, that was awful. She paused. I was about ready to go all primary protocol if we didn’t get that figured out.
Save it for the bar. I winked, knowing that she felt it over the link. In the meantime, we still have work to do.
What’s the play?
Whelp, I peered over the rise, looking for the Sadhana FAVs, specifically, the Padre’s. I’ve got some friends whom I’d like to join the party. There’s a Liaison, a Preceptor, and an Artisan that’re pretty damn nice to have around in a firefight.
A combat Artisan? That sounds like something to see.
He’s one-of-a-kind. I’m only telling you this because it would be nice if, wherever you set the end aperture, the man could have some high ground.
Roger that. Get them ready.
I linked my three all-but-abandoned cadre members and smiled the devil’s grin. You folks know anyone who’d like to get the hell out of here?
Um, yeah, fucko. Wyatt’s wide smile burst into my mind. You got a ride for us, pretty boy?
I do. My smile faded as I saw the Padre swinging around toward me, weapon held high. But you’d better be ready. You’re not exactly headed to the nice side of town.
Roger that, Johnny Stallion.
For the briefest moment, I thought that perhaps I’d be better off if I left him where he was.
3
The moment that Sofia brought in the rest of our cadre, Sadhana’s chances took a decidedly southern turn.
A pity, really.
Please don’t judge us because of Bishop, Delacruz. Wyatt kept a stoic face as he linked and tapped at the Tangler’s interface.
Too late. Sofia teased back. I’ve never met an Asset whom I suspected wasn’t housebroken before.
Michael is not…? Anya glanced at Wyatt, a touch of confusion on her face.
The large man only smiled and shook his head.
A furious point-three seconds passed where everyone with an active Crown initiated handshake protocols, and data regarding identity, capabilities and recent phaneric records flew back and forth. Facility standard in a hot zone, our systems meshed and shared data, and once it was done…
Time to get down to business.
It’s proof that there cannot be a just and loving God. Wyatt groused to me, in a private link. You get to tear around on dune buggies, while the princess and I are stuck halfway across this hellscape doing hours of axiomatic trigonometry. It’s injustice; that’s what it is.
I feel so bad for you. I had to laugh. Wyatt was a little irritated, but relieved at reuniting with my cadre, I didn’t mind his bitching.
I’ll just have to make up for lost time.
WHUF! WHUF! He laid down two spikes, squarely in front an FAV as it careened through the labyrinth of black stone.
Delacruz had done a fine job of placing Wyatt, setting our three allies on high ground very similar to my own.
The two Sadhana operatives drove straight through Wyatt’s trap and immediately began to weave, slewing around as if drunk.
Abruptly they fell unconscious. Their rail swerved to the left and continued for another ten meters or so before rolling to a sputtering halt.
Very nice. I didn’t have to feign being impressed. How’d you come up with that one?
Stone. We got to talking about his work and how important it was to be subtle.
Did you? Even the thought of Stone seemed welcome after the isolation of the last few hours.
Those spikes just transmuted all the oxygen molecules around them into a little knockout agent called desflurane gas. The moment they drove past my little snare, even the oxygen in their lungs
and brain became sleeping gas.
Wow. The elegant solution wasted no time and left the operatives’ FAV completely functional. I liked it.
Yeah. Energetically expensive though. I won’t be doing that one a lot.
Wyatt wasn’t the only one who gleefully took the opportunity for some payback. Now that Delacruz had Crown function, she had slapped the augment on the back of her head and was making up for lost time.
“What?” One of them cried as they barreled into an aperture that had appeared in front of them.
“[Tag, asshole!]” Delacruz’s Spanish curse felt vengeful in my Crown.
Sofia opened fire as they appeared in front of her, driving straight into her line of fire.
The men barreled out one of her apertures, nauseous and drunk, thanks to the bent and broken spatial dimensions of this place.
As she picked them off, I thought that, in this case, the aberrant vectors’ effects on her porting weren’t a bug but a feature.
A thing of beauty.
“[Come to momma!]” she cackled as two more operatives suddenly found themselves squarely in front of her and her Calico, instead of fifty meters away.
I don’t see the Padre. I linked to everyone on the field, hoping I could get a fix on the asshole. Anybody?
As far as I can see, we have cleared the area of Sadhana operatives. Anya’s link held a tiny undercurrent of smug satisfaction. Asset Delacruz has nullified the targets she has engaged. Asset Guthrie’s opponents also appear defeated.
But that asshole made away? Delacruz fumed. Bishop, didn’t I tell you to kill that guy?
I liked it better when you were grateful, I linked back.
Let’s coordinate. Stone’s link crystalized in my mind. I hated the silky smoothness of it, how I automatically felt inclined to do as he suggested.
Dammit. I took a breath.
The problem wasn’t him. Not really. Perhaps the Designates had included something in his neuralware to simply make him into a charismatic, natural leader or perhaps it was simply part of the Liaison package to have an uncommonly optimistic, friendly nature.
It just felt… overwrought to me.
We need to organize a game plan. He linked again. I suggest meeting here. He placed a reticule within my visual range.