by Steve Rzasa
They approached the tower on foot. Aldo found an access panel on one side. He didn’t touch anything with his hands. Instead, he used his autonomous scanner. It hovered by his side and cut apart the panel with a tiny laser torch that hissed like a snake.
“Okay. This isn’t as bad as I thought.” Aldo peered inside. He tapped on his implant. The scanner shone white light from its underside. “Hmm. Yeah, much better.”
“Better than what?”
“Better than there being an EMP in place or something else to fry it if we mess with it.”
“Can you hook us in?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Because I want to see every signal they send. I want to know where they are and what they’re doing.”
“You got it. Give me an hour, maybe two, and we’ll be set.”
An owl hooted in the treetops nearby. An answering hoot came from far off.
“What do you need?”
“Tools from under my seat. The whole batch.” Aldo tapped in more commands. The scanner extended spindly arms into the guts of the panel. Nothing in the mess of wires and modules was familiar.
Rome retrieved the tools from the car, and brought Aldo the entire mess in a satchel that was bent and twisted from being perpetually jammed under his seat. He leaned against the fender and watched Aldo work, guiding the scanner, removing and crossing wires, and occasionally shoving the scanner aside so he could do something himself.
“Rome.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re, uh, creeping me out. Why don’t you rest? Bet you’ve slept way less than me.”
Rome rubbed his head and was startled when he felt bald scalp—not a trace of his hair save for tiny bristles. He forgot. “Good plan.”
“I know, right? Don’t want you shooting me or… say… anymore cars. Bad enough you do that when you’re rested.” Aldo dug a folded pouch of hazy gray material from his jacket. He scooped out dried cranberries and crammed them into his mouth. “C’mon.”
“You’re the boss, Technician.”
“Mmph.”
Rome swiveled his seat around until it faced the rear of the Halcyon and laid it into a sleeping position. He expanded the foam headrest to a more comfortable pillow size and zipped his coat. Within a few seconds of relaxing, the jacket adjusted its ambient temperature to better enable sleep.
He drifted off to the conversation of the owls, interrupted only by Aldo’s soft cursing.
~
The transport truck ripped away from him, dragging him out of the car and into midair. His shoes skidded on the pavement. Pain shot through his legs.
Sara held out her hand and yelled.
The man behind her aimed a gun, and fired…
Rome jolted. The sound was deafening.
“Hey!”
Again, the noise. This time it was subdued. Aldo rapped on the door’s frame. It must have been what triggered the gunfire in his dream.
Rome rubbed at bleary eyes. “What? What time is it?”
“Six-thirty.” Aldo had deep circles under his own eyes, but his grin was manic. “I’ve got them.”
“You what?” Rome adjusted his seat upright. He started the engine and activated all systems.
Aldo already climbed into his seat. “They’re coming up the Ninety, like we did, along the Lakes. Got their coordinates and everything. I’m shadowing their signal.”
“Shadowing. You mean they’re using their signal to override someone’s nav system.”
“Just like we saw when they went after the Sartorian lady.”
“How far out are they?”
“Maybe an hour. Less, if you floor it.”
Rome put the car into a tight K-turn, missing an oak by a hand’s breath. They took off, bouncing down the access road.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE NINETY ALONG THE LAKES’ shore was crammed full of vehicles. Maneuvering would be a challenge this close together, especially undetected.
“There is no way we are not getting spotted the second you put it back into manual,” Aldo said.
“Tell me about it.” They moved at a decent 90 miles per hour clip and blended well with the surrounding traffic. Rome knew Aldo was right. The autonomous vehicles would detect a vehicle moving under manual guidance and immediately steer clear of it while contacting all adjacent cars with a safety warning. That safety warning would travel up and down the lanes faster than the wildfires that swept the plains every summer.
Rome drummed his fingers faster. It was a risk he was willing to take.
“They’re five miles ahead of us. No sign of them on sensors, but the signal’s coming in loud and clear.”
“Pinpoint it for me.”
“Can’t yet. But I got something better.” Aldo pulled a list from thin air—a glowing sheet of text that filled the space between his knees and the dash. “Voilá. Roster of possible targets for our merry bandits—same one I pulled Sartorian’s name from. Uploading it into the nav system.”
“Right. If we find a target in the vicinity of the signal—”
“Then we find our magical disappearing truck.” Aldo snapped his fingers and pantomimed shooting Rome.
Rome rolled his eyes.
Within a half a minute, more than two dozen red outlines draped themselves over cars in the stretch of three-lane roadway ahead of them. The glare from the morning sun shot up over trees, bathing everything in a sharp-edged light. Rome squinted. He tapped the controls for the window dimmers, darkening them further.
“Okay. Got three possibles within a quarter mile of the signal area.”
“Give me the center of that signal area.”
“It’s hazy,” Aldo said. “Can’t be more precise than that quarter mile.”
“Better than nothing.”
Three cars pulsed red while the rest of the thieves’ potential targets faded to yellow.
Rome frowned.
There were six gaps in the traffic large enough to accommodate the truck. Without the more advanced sensors Marcy used to operate—and that would definitely tip off the Halcyon’s presence as a pursuit car to FTZ Security—he relied on anything else he could get. “Program nav. Get us into that first gap.”
“You’re kidding.” Aldo stared at him. “We go in there and the truck’s there, you know what will happen?”
“The proximity sensors won’t pick it up and we’ll ram it.”
“Oh. You do know.”
Rome nodded.
“And… that’s your plan.”
“Dammit, Aldo! Just do it!”
“Okay, all right!” Aldo entered new coordinates, smacking the surface of his comp panel with such frustration that Rome was certain it was meant for him and not the device.
The Halcyon switched lanes—staying within traffic laws—and nudged toward the gap behind the rumbling freighter.
Rome’s stomach churned. If they hit it too fast…
Nothing.
Aldo exhaled. “Wow. No stress there.”
“Quit whining.” Rome ignored the thunderous beat of his heart. It was a gamble. “Line up the next one.”
He heard a hissing noise. Spray spattered the windshield. Water?
Rome craned his neck. They entered a stretch of the Ninety that appeared to have been rained upon recently. The freighter must have hit a puddle. There were several shallow ones scattered across the highway.
Perfect.
“What’re you—”
“Hang on.” Rome leaned forward.
Up ahead, a huge puddle stretched across the two outer lanes. A freighter splashed through it, followed by a Famtrac, and one of the luxury cars Aldo had highlighted. Then water sprayed up for no apparent reason.
“That’s it.” Rome switched control to manual. “Mark the coordinates.”
“Got it, got it.” Aldo swiped frantically at his displays as the straps cinched around him and Rome. “Okay, bringing up the specs from our last oh-so-friendly encounter.”
A wireframe of b
lue appeared on the windshield, filling the gap in traffic with the digital representation of where Rome’s guess overlapped Aldo’s signal trace.
Rome grinned. Gotcha.
Cars peeled off around them as he accelerated. A raft of safety warnings skittered across the dash. The luxury sedan, a black Monaco SR with silver trim and burnished gold windows, drove along the center lane as if the automaton in charge hadn’t a care in the world.
The gap in traffic aligned to the Monaco’s right. Air currents rippled.
“Charging the EMP,” Aldo said.
Rome let the targeting reticle drift over the wireframe outline of the thieves’ truck. The EMP would take too long to fully charge. The best chance he had was to fire off at 30 percent and hope it knocked out a critical system. Then what… magnetic grapples? The truck outweighed the Halcyon. They’d get dragged along.
The truck suddenly solidified as a black lump on the highway. The Monaco attempted to brake and switch lanes—at least, that’s what it looked like to Rome. He labeled it an “attempt” because the Monaco swerved back to its original position.
The left side of the truck opened. Its docking collar extended and latched down to its top.
Rome saw his last option.
“Charged to 25 percent—ah, Rome?”
“Get ready to control the car from your comp panel.” Rome accelerated, coming up in the center lane behind the Monaco. It was only a few hundred feet away.
“What’s the plan?”
Sparks and smoke sprayed off the top of the Monaco as the thieves cut into the passenger compartment. The docking collar bounced, hanging between the two vehicles. Its bottom was less than four feet off the road.
Rome eased the Halcyon until she straddled the delineator stripe between the center and right lanes. He lined up with the collar as best he could. Then he gave it speed.
“Look out!” Aldo braced himself. “Rome!”
In the seconds before the dark gray ribbed surface of the docking collar filled the windshield, Rome had time for a fleeting thought: This might have been a bad idea.
The Halcyon ripped through part of the material, which turned out to be reinforced fabric. The shredding sound was worse than the cries of a wounded animal. They were stuck between the two vehicles, hurtling down the highway at 100 miles per hour. The destroyed section of the collar banged at the sides of the Halcyon.
“Oh, man!” Aldo yelped. “I think they’re pissed.”
To the right, a figure in a full stealth suit aimed a J20 rifle at Aldo’s window. To the left, a female shape in a similar suit whipped around. A slender knife blade shivered in one hand, and a tiny plasma torch glowed purple-pink in her other.
Beyond her, Rome saw a well-dressed man yelling. A woman and a child—a little girl with short red hair—held onto each other, locked in place by their restraints. All three wore short sleeves. The lights on their implants were plainly visible.
“Take it!” Rome opened the window. Wind blasted in and fabric slapped his arm.
“Okay, okay!” The Halcyon momentarily swerved as Aldo gained control through the comp panel’s link. The steering column melted back into the dash.
Rome grabbed the window frame and hauled himself into the tattered remains of the docking collar. A narrow track bottom center was sturdy enough to stand on. Good thing. A runaway dirt bike would have been more stable than this thing bouncing around. Rome staggered forward and launched himself at the woman.
Sara. He knew as he collided with her, even before he ripped off her mask. It was the smell of her hair and the way her body moved as she twisted out of his grasp.
There was a flash of light—metal.
Rome jerked away. The knife blade tore a gash along his jacket. He bounced on the interior wall of the docking tube. It shuddered.
Sara fell to her knees, but didn’t lose the knife. This time she jabbed out with it, like a swordsman thrusting for the kill.
Rome moved closer and grabbed her arm with both hands as the blade shot past. He slammed her arm down on his bended leg. Her scream was muted by the wind roaring around them and the car engines adding to the cacophony, but it must have been enough pain because the knife disappeared, lost on the blur of pavement visible through a rip in the collar.
“Rome! Your six!”
He spun. The figure inside the opposite end of the docking collar opened fire with the J20.
Rome dove into Sara. They tumbled out the end of the tube where Rome found his face suddenly jammed between Sara’s jumpsuit and plush gray leather.
“Get out! Get the hell out of my car!” The man facing them was pale, balding, and dressed in a shirt and pants Rome knew had to cost far too much to be practical. How was he still bald if he could afford that? Didn’t have enough for gene therapy?
“Sir, calm down. I’m a pursuit driver. My job to stop these guys.” It would have been a more impressive proclamation if he wasn’t extracting his face from beneath Sara’s arm.
He checked her—eyes glassy, unfocused, breathing shallow. Gasping. The wind knocked out of her, probably.
The ceiling of the car shredded under the impact of the J20 rounds. Black and gray materials sprayed all over. The man shouted obscenities. His wife and child screamed.
“Rome! He’s coming down the tube!”
“Then something about it!” Dammit! Why wouldn’t all these people shut up for five seconds so he could think?
Gunfire of a different pitch broke out behind him. Rome saw Aldo shoot at their assailant. The man was on the other side of the Halcyon, facing back the way he’d come from the truck. Aldo made good use of the Halcyon’s bullet-resistant glass as it blocked the man’s shots, but the increased spider webbing told Rome the windshield couldn’t stand much more from the fully automatic weapon.
“My knife.” Sara winced and pushed Rome off.
He thwacked his head against the dash. Pain lanced down his neck. That would hurt worse, come morning. “Sara, get off! Your knife’s in the wind.”
“In the wind?”
“Get. Up.” Rome heaved her into the lap of the car owner. “Hold her there.”
“What are you talking about?”
Rome launched off the dash, aiming for the middle of the assailant’s backside. His target turned just as he closed the distance.
Rome kept his head down and arms folded. He knocked the man over. They sprawled across the Halcyon’s windshield.
The J20 spun off and onto the road. That was a plus, but Rome didn’t dwell on it. He was busy, scrabbling for purchase on the windshield. Might as well have been grabbing the water rushing over Niagara Falls.
The man in the stealth suit latched onto Rome, half in the tube and half out. For a brief, bewildered second, he wondered why the guy was trying to save him. That was before the man punched him.
A hand caught hold of his jacket, wrenching him away from the pavement. Rome’s legs slapped against the Halcyon as he held onto the open window frame.
“Hang on!” Aldo shouted.
With Aldo holding his arm by the sleeve, and the man pounding on him with his fist, Rome was torn by pain from both sides. He freed his right hand and dug around in his pocket.
“Give me the other hand!”
Rome found Thad’s knife. He triggered the blade, swept it up, and buried it up to the hilt in the man’s knuckles. The guy screamed and immediately forgot he hung on with his other, uninjured hand to the interior of the docking collar. Rome pulled back on the knife as hard as he could and sent him headfirst onto the road below. There was a burst of crimson and the guy was gone.
“Hot damn!” Aldo’s eyes bulged. “Did you see that?”
“Yes!” Rome hollered. “Pull me up!”
Aldo tugged on Rome’s arm until he could get a hold with both hands. Rome dragged himself up, bracing himself on the frame with his knee. “Give me the 20.”
Aldo passed him the gun.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Rome ordered.
&nbs
p; Sara was still groggy and the passengers still yelling. He looped an arm around her waist. “Call emergency services. They should have police waiting for you at the nearest exit.”
“Are you insane?” the man yelped. “I’ve been on the line with FTZ Security!”
Rome dragged Sara back to the car.
“You need help?” Aldo asked.
“That depends on traffic. Why the hell aren’t you driving?” He eased Sara through the window.
Aldo caught her boots and directed her into the back seat. “Um, I am, or the comp panel is. And it doesn’t matter because we haven’t had any traffic around since this fiasco started! Also, FTZ Security’s coming up the lane behind us.”
“Which lane?”
“All three.”
Rome got into his seat. He propped his own J20 out the window. “Watch your ears.” He fired at the tattered remnants of the docking collar until it broke completely free of the passenger car. The stealth truck rumbled off, its body shimmering as it started its disappearing act. Shredded tube material scattered across the highway.
“I blocked them out of the car’s nav system,” Aldo said. “No way they’re getting back in. Judging by the way their comp reacted, I think they were a tad surprised.”
“Good work.”
The car drifted into the median of the highway.
Safe.
Rome exhaled.
However, the rear view showed three FTZ Security cars—all Halcyons—accelerating behind them. No Thad, though.
“Let’s get going.” Rome glanced over his shoulder at Sara. “I got what we came for. Secure her.”
Aldo clamped magcuffs on her wrists and seat restraints secured around her body quick enough that he was back in his own restraints before she came fully to her senses.
“What? Rome! Get me back there!” Sara squirmed. “My crew needs me!”
“Your crew’s the least of your worries.”
“Jorge can’t explain to our boss why Robert and I are gone. He’ll…”