by Peter Tylee
“He stopped,” Cookie said, making perfect sense in his own mind but doing nothing to enlighten Samantha.
“Huh?” She stared blankly at him. “You’re being cryptic again.”
“The tech-head who’s been chasing me.” Cookie’s was glowering at the screen, trying to determine what his nemesis was doing. He didn’t like it when something unexpected happened. He’d been dodging the administrator’s blows for days and he still had to be careful not to trigger the multitude of traps. But the flurry of activity was gone. On its own, that wasn’t unusual, but the way it had happened was far from normal.
“One second he was here, and the next” – he made a hand movement that was reminiscent of an explosion – “he’s gone.”
“Maybe he needed to sleep,” Samantha reckoned. “He’s been busy if I’m not mistaken. Everyone needs to rest.”
Cookie drummed his overworked but itchy fingers on the table. “No. That’s not it. He didn’t disengage. He just… vanished.” It made him even more nervous about what was happening in San Francisco. “What if something bad happened?”
“What do you mean?” Samantha knew exactly what he meant but didn’t dare breathe the thought.
“Maybe Dan screwed up or something.” Cookie’s imagination readily concocted a multitude of scenarios that would spell doom for their friends.
But Samantha refused to believe it. She needed to maintain her optimism as much as she needed oxygen. “No way. There must be a thousand reasons to explain why he stopped whatever he was doing.”
Cookie looked dubiously at her. “You don’t understand. It was… it was like a forced removal. There isn’t a system administrator on the planet that would’ve done that voluntarily.”
“Yeah, but-”
“And what are the chances of that happening at the very moment Dan, Simon and Jen were entering UniForce headquarters? Surely that’s not a coincidence.” Cookie kept digging around the vicinity of the disappearance, wearily probing the data stream for possible traps. For all he knew, it was the most sophisticated trap yet. But his curiosity was too intense; he simply couldn’t pass the opportunity to glean information about what the UniForce administrator had been working on. Maybe I’ll find passwords,he thought with a feverish lick of his lips. He hadto know.
He quickly coded a program for a slingshot that would fling him off the ‘net if he trod in a digital snare and tested it twice before committing himself to the potentially baited cheese.
“What is it?” Samantha sensed his excitement.
“When he vanished he left his notes on the table, metaphorically speaking,” Cookie explained. “It could be a trap, but-”
“I know.” Samantha understood him well. “You have to find out.” She trusted him to take proper precautions and refrained from interrogating him; he hated it when people questioned his logic and procedures. Still, Samantha had to bite her lips to keep silent.
He knew what she was thinking anyway and said impatiently, “Yes, I’ve taken precautions. If I trigger a trap, I’ll be booted off the ‘net.”
“I wasn’t…”
Cookie smiled knowingly at her. “Yes you were.” He downloaded unobtrusive snippets of data until he was confident nothing would ensnare him. Gradually it formed a picture.
He gaped, his jaw slack with shock.
“What?” Samantha held her breath in sympathy.
“Oh my G-god,” Cookie stammered. “Q-quick grab a coat.”
Samantha obeyed immediately out of trust, scared by his unusual behaviour. “What’s going on?”
Cookie was disconnecting from the UniForce network and launching his maintenance programs as fast as he could. He wanted to be out of the house within 30 seconds and if that meant ditching the computer, then that’s what he’d do. But all the evidence…It pained him to imagine losing it – there was no guarantee he’d be able to get it again. He ran out of time before launching the slowest two programs and, desperate, yanked the power cord from the computer and tore the other jumbled cables from their sockets. Deliberately doing that sort of damage felt like a crime, there was no excuse for failing to shut the operating system down gracefully. But dire times…He clutched the computer to his chest and called, “You ready?”
She emerged from the bedroom, two coats under her arm. “For what?”
“We’ve gotta get out of here now,” Cookie replied, trying to recall a safe portal destination. The number…“Hang on.” He half-galloped to the lounge room and retrieved Simon’s mobile number from beside the phone. “It’s the Raven.”
Samantha paled. “What about him?”
“He’s here. Now.” Cookie dialled the only number he could remember on the portal. “He’s watching us.”
“How do you know that?” Samantha demanded.
“They hacked into his head.” Cookie pushed Samantha inside the white circle. “He’s a cyborg, remember? It’s just a computer. You can hack them.” He pressed the engage button and Samantha flashed away. Then Cookie performed a similar service for himself and the house lay empty.
*
There he goes.It had turned out to be Natasha Glinski’s toughest assignment. How did one seduce a cyborg? Someone so mechanical he’d lost all sex drive? She’d done her research. The Raven hadn’t had an impulsive sexual encounter since doctors had integrated a computer with his brain. She distastefully curled her lips at the thought. Natasha dreaded any kind of surgical procedure, let alone one that would merge her with a machine. The Raven simply didn’t give in to his human urges; he had the capacity to switch them off. Amazing.She had to admire his self-control. A bit robotic though.She shrunk from the thought of losing her spontaneity. That’s what makes me human.
She’d been unobtrusively watching him in his stench-pot hidey-hole for the better part of a day. Finding him had proved easy, he’d never even attempted to mask his microchip signature. A mistake,she thought disapprovingly. An amateurish mistake.Natasha used disposable personas and never engaged in assignment-work with her own chip, it was just too dangerous. But then, he’s just a bounty hunter,not a real assassin.She’d purchased the information from PortaNet. Virtually anything was available on the black market for the right price. Marketing companies exploited the information trade all the time, though they were more likely to catalogue trends rather than individual movements. Finding specific information was harder, but thousands of PortaNet employees had access to the corporate database and PortaNet didn’t pay them well enough to immunise the data from bribes. Natasha had her own contact, and used him frequently.
She watched the shadowy figure emerge from the house and started walking, timing her stride to intercept him on the overgrown footpath. The weeds were knee-high, the only evidence of the path being a thinner patch running parallel with the street. The parched, prickly plants rustled under her feet and she hunched over as far as her spine would permit. She wanted to pass as one of the seedy, dishevelled residents. Nobody in the suburb was homeless, though very few technically owned the house they lived in. The exodus from the city had resulted in a surplus of empty housing. So there were no street-bums, only abandoned-building-bums. But Natasha’s thick coat was wretched enough to appease anybody’s expectations for a western-Sydney resident. And she’d taken pains to appear feminine. People never expected a woman to pose a threat. Men were dangerous and women were not – or so most people thought.
A stale, refuse-reeking zephyr rippled over her skin. She’d committed herself now; she couldn’t turn back without risking the Raven’s suspicion. And she had a good idea what he’d do if he became suspicious.
Twenty metres.She wondered how close she should get. How close he’ll let me get…
Ten metres.She thought she could probably take the shot from there, but would feel more confident at five metres and kept walking without deviating from the overgrown path. She imperceptibly picked up the pace of her hunched shuffle to ensure the Raven wouldn’t slip past beyond reach.
Within four metres,
the Raven hesitated and instinctively reached for his weapon, a Redback-PX7 if Natasha’s information had been accurate. Now!All the pent up energy in her body sprung into action and she flicked her gun to head-hight and squeezed the trigger. The hiss of escaping gasses and a metallic twang accompanied her bullet as it entered the Raven’s forehead, punctured his skull, and struck his computer.
He fell.
And that’s number fifteen.Natasha chalked another success to her growing tally.
*
Esteban couldn’t believe his eyes. It didn’t make sense. Surely that was the Raven. Who else could it be?But that would mean…The assassin’s a woman?That conclusion didn’t connect in his head. It simply wouldn’t compute. Esteban had falsely believed the realm of assassins was sacred to men. After all, Shadow had an impressive record, so surely it had to be a man! Yet he could find no other explanation for what he’d witnessed.
That’s a woman.He was certain of that. She was slender and lithe. When she twisted her head in the trickling moonlight, he even grudgingly admitted she was sexy.
He shrugged away his irritation. He never thought a woman would be good enough to kill the Raven. But there he was, on the ground with a bullet in his most precious instrument.
Esteban, festering with irritation, continued to the house and skirted to the back. He knew the assassin wasn’t interested in the house; he’d only contracted her to deal with the Raven. And now that he’s dead, the house is all mine.Esteban cheerfully used explosives to blow a window from its frame. The charge detonated quietly, focussing its destructive force and resultant soundwave directly toward the glass by using an ingeniously modified shell. Shattering glass clamoured into the barren night.
He quickly attached the second device and shattered the inside panel before laying his jacket over the shards and climbing through, pistol ready. Everybody in the house was going to die. He’d made up his mind to shoot first and ask questions later. Dan would’ve returned the favour if he’d been there. Someone who blew the windows out obviously wasn’t coming for a cup of tea.
He scowled. Where the fuck are you?It was empty. A disgusted expression of ill humour added to his scowl when he realised the house was deserted. It was just one more abandoned house in a suburb full of useless abandoned houses.
Slices of cold pizza festered on the table and the lights were still on. They must’ve left in a hurry.The bedroom and bathroom were filled with person effects. Expensive perfume wasn’t something many women would deliberately leave behind. Nor is underwear.He thoroughly searched the house, looking in cupboards and under beds to rule out the possibility they were merely hiding. The manhole cover to the roof space had been welded shut, so they couldn’t have been cowering up there.
“Fuck!” Esteban screamed.
He used the portal and returned to San Francisco in three hops. He hated the slowdown of international terminals. And he hated customs. He loathed their suspicion and their questions. Why the fuck should I have to answer?
Back in his office, he scrounged on his computer for a hint of where they’d fled. The first profile he tested was Tedman Kennedy and after failing to turn anything up under that, he scanned every one of Jen’s chips – he’d copied the signatures from them all. Half way through, his left eyebrow arched high on his forehead. You’re kidding…“Fuck me, she’s in the building.” And he doubted she was alone.
*
“Tell me, what do you want?” Jackie demanded, believing she was doing a good job of hiding her nervousness.
Dan sadly shook his head. “I want something you can’t possibly give me. I want something nobodycan give me. Not even God, if he exists.”
Jen noticed the anguish in Dan’s words and recognised that he’d never master his grief at his wife’s murder. Unless…She wondered what would be possible if Dan won all his battles and slaughtered all his demons. Maybe then we could…
Jackie was no longer sure she wanted to know. “So… what’s that?”
“You may not remember something as trivialas this, but a UniForce assassin murdered my wife.”
That explained a lot. She suddenly understood why Dan had turned against them. He’d been a model bounty hunter until recently. Which means he only recently found out.Jackie tried to look surprised, as though she hadn’t known, but she’d read the details from his file. “Oh, that’s terrible.” She almost sounded apologetic, but her eyes betrayed her. “I’m so sorry… I had no idea.”
Dan’s trigger finger started to shake. “Don’t patronise me.”
Jackie made another concerted effort to look disturbed by the news. “I’m not. I’m truly sorry that happened to you. I know what it’s like to lose someone you care about.” It was bullshit. She had no clue. She’d severed herself from everyone she’d ever cared about so she couldn’t feel the hurt of abandonment. It was a lonely way to live, but she’d brought it upon herself.
“Everyoneyou assassinate has people that care about them,” Dan retorted hotly.
Jackie had never thought about it. To her they were just money in the bank and one more problem solved. The notion that a ‘problem’ had family and friends was an alien concept to her capitalist brain. Consequently, she couldn’t contain her remorselessness for long and it saturated her tone when she said, “I didn’t kill her.”
“Maybe not, but you allowed it to happen. You profited from it. That makes you just as guilty as the assassins and the people who paid for it.” Dan’s words were level and calm despite the passionate heat he felt beneath his collar. He was on the verge of snapping. He hadn’t been psychologically prepared to meet someone so coldly callous and ignorant of her guilt.
Simon edged forward. He didn’t like the tone the conversation was taking. This wasn’t part of the plan.He looked cautiously at his friend and wondered how stable he was. What if he kills them?He tried to throw water on the crisis by saying, “Let’s talk about a deal.”
Unfortunately, his water only made steam.
“She doesn’t have anything I want,” Dan said nastily. “And as for you Michele, I guess you’re too cowardly to commit suicide and you need my help to do it.”
Michele shook her head, paling. “No.”
“Then you must be fucking stupid. And stupid people shouldn’t breed, so how about I solve that problem right now?”
“Dan?” Jen stepped up to him and brushed her fingers along his arm. This was a side to him she hadn’t seen. She hadn’t even sensed it. And it scared her. “What’re you doing?”
“Nothing they wouldn’t do to us if they had the guns.” Dan spoke the truth. They’d all be corpses if Jackie and Michele had weapons.
“I don’t want to,” Jen said, speaking with the innocence of a child. She didn’t want anyone’s blood on her hands. The men Dan had slain in combat were different; that was justified. But this? Where would it stop?
Jackie, meanwhile, had decided it was time to bargain for her life. And she knew, or thought she knew, what Dan wanted most. “I can give you Esteban.”
“Oh can you?” Esteban asked with a hyena’s grin on his unshaven face. He’d stepped quietly into the office without anyone noticing. “If you even twitch I’ll kill you.”
Dan cursed his stupidity. He hadn’t obeyed the number one rule of combat: protect your back. And now we’re going to pay for it.
“Drop them,” Esteban commanded in a voice few would trifle with.
Simon and Dan shared a desperate thought. If they acted simultaneously, their chances were good. Esteban couldn’t kill them both in time to save his life. Or could he? A seed of doubt rested nigglingly in their minds.
“You, black guy,” Esteban snarled. “My gun’s pointed at you. So how about it, Sutherland? If you try anything, your friend will definitely die. Can you do it? Can you kill him?”
No,Dan thought. I can’t.Simon had risked and given too much already. He tossed his Colt to the ground.
“You too big fella.” Esteban walked slowly forward. “You’ve got no ho
pe now. You’re not that fast.”
Simon cast his cannon aside, careful to keep it close so that he could retrieve it easily if he dove to his left.
“So what now?” Dan asked, slowly turning to face the bane of his life.
Esteban stooped to pick up Dan’s Colt and then retrieved Simon’s cannon, severing any hope they had of armed resistance. He turned to Jackie. “Are you all right?”
Jackie was breathing easier. She nodded and said, “Good job.”
Esteban huffed at her. “Then to answer your question Sutherland, now I kill the bitch who was selling me out.” He switched to Dan’s Colt, refined his aim, and squeezed the trigger twice, splattering Jackie’s brains over her office.
Michele screamed, her eyes bulging wide with the fear that she would meet the same fate. She was dense, but she knew Esteban would want no witnesses for his crime. “As for you Michele…”
“Oh, no… No, please. I’m not ready.” She was crying with the suspense. She knew what came next.
“I’m afraid you’re just too fucking stupid to live.” He smiled wickedly. “You see, these three burst in, made it past security – which, quite frankly, is rat shit – and killed Jackie.” He shrugged mock-apologetically. “The only problem is I can’t have dumb witnesses. You’re too stupid to remember something simple like that.”
“But what about…”
“Yeah, you suck good dick.” He shrugged again, this time with indifference. “I’ll just have to find someone else.” He fired twice more and Michele’s head exploded like a melon, providing a fresh coat of grey and red paint for the walls. “That’s really funny,” Esteban laughed.
Nobody else understood the joke.
“Well, you see,” he began explaining unbidden. “I honestly didn’t think she had any brains. This comes as a surprise.” The sight of so much blood turned him on. That corner of his sexual drive disgusted him, but didn’t stop him from wanting to rape Jen.