2 Change in Management

by RJ Johnson

  Lumpy glanced at his boss who waved his hand towards him. Lumpy set the diminutive Emeline down gently.

  “Now…” Meade drawled, “Back away.”

  None of the men in the room moved. They were all staring at him.

  “I know I ain’t that hard to understand,” Meade said, “Put your weapons down on the ground and back away slowly.”

  “Or else?” Laszlo challenged. “You aren’t exactly in a position to negotiate.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Meade said, confident.

  His confidence melted away the second he heard the whine of a gauss rifle spin up behind him.

  “Place your weapon on the ground Mr. Meade,” the voice came from the source of the gauss rifle and he slowly turned his head. It was William Hugh, the Ambassador’s chief of security.

  “Hugh, I never figured you for someone to throw their lot in with a guy like Laszlo.” Meade said slowly. He released the grip of his pistol and let the pistol fall upside down and away from him. Lumpy moved slowly over to him to collect it.

  Meade glared at Lumpy. “I’ll be taking that back.”

  Lumpy grunted and stuck the pistol into his waistband. Meade raised his hands over his head and folded them neatly on top of his hat.

  “So what now Laszlo?” Meade asked. “You’ll have to kill me to get anything.”

  Laszlo laughed, “You’re hardly important enough to have DNA coded security for your ArmBar.”

  Meade grinned, “Maybe I’m not. But my father certainly was, and this was his rig. And my friend over there was kind enough to rekey it to my own DNA.”

  “Always happy to be of service Meade,” Emeline said.

  Laszlo’s face fell and he snapped, “Unlock it now, or Hugh will do it for you, and I guarantee you won’t like how he does it.”

  Meade quickly punched a button and his ArmBar began to whine loudly. The five men surrounding him quickly backed away. They knew what that sound meant. Meade’s ArmBar was going into a power feedback loop and if he didn’t stop it, the energy unleashed would be enough to kill them all, packed as they were into the small space.

  “We got ourselves a stand-off boys,” Meade said, the smirk returning to his face.

  Laszlo sighed, “I am getting so tired of this.” He grabbed Emeline and placed his gauss pistol next to her head. “I am going to count to ten. If you do not deactivate your ArmBar and return the information you stole from me, your pretty little bartender’s brains will be the fresh coating of paint this bar so desperately needs.”

  Emeline struggled against the powerful warlord’s grip, but she looked up in defiance and mouthed to Meade: Don’t you do it.

  Meade was stuck, he couldn’t let Laszlo get the infodump back before he knew what was on it.

  “You hear that Em?” Meade said, his left eyebrow arched, “he’s calling your bar dingy.”

  “I feel like the atmosphere keeps undesirables like him out. Glad to see it’s working so far,” she replied and nodded. She closed her eyes and Meade grit his teeth while his body tensed, ready to make the next move.

  Suddenly the door to the Last Ditch opened and the kid Meade had enlisted to spy for him came in running shouting for him, “They’re coming! The Coalition is com…” the kid didn’t even get to finish his sentence before he saw what was going on. The second he realized everyone was pointing guns at each other, his eyes became as wide as saucers and he darted out the door quick as he had come in, stumbling on the way out.

  That was all the distraction he needed. Meade grasped the butt of his grandfather’s pistol, yanking it out of Lumpy’s waistband. He swung the pistol and connected solidly with Hugh’s temple. The Coalition officer went down without so much as a grunt.

  At the same time, Emeline grabbed Laszlo’s arm and yanked, using the leverage to launch her body up. She kicked her heels and hit Lumpy square in the jaw. She never stopped moving as the leverage created twisted Laszlo’s forearm and he cried out in pain. Meade darted forward and finished what she started by landing a solid punch into the mammoth security guard’s jaw.

  Lumpy cried out in rage and moved to intercept Meade. The other three goons Laszlo brought along aimed their pistols at Meade and fired, the gauss rounds barely missing him as the rounds flew white hot over his head.

  Emeline grabbed a barstool and swung it at his attackers, knocking the pistols out of their grip. She followed that up with a sliding kick to the first man’s knee. She then switched to her knees and used the remaining momentum to move forward slamming a precise palm strike into the last goon’s crotch. The wind went out of the man as he leaned forward in pain. Emeline jumped quickly to her feet and landed a huge uppercut onto his jaw. The man flew up and over some tables, landing on them breaking them down to the ground. She whirled around to face Meade, barely breathing heavy.

  “You owe me a new table Meade,” she hissed.

  Laszlo, holding his face, chuckled as Meade aimed his pistol at his head.

  “I think the odds have evened up considerably don’t you?” Meade asked.

  “You fools,” Laszlo said, checking his fingers for his blood. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me?” Meade challenged.

  “I don’t know who you’re working for,” Laszlo said in a dark tone, “But, Cassandra will be mine, and nothing can stop me.”

  Meade was confused, “Who the hell is Cassandra?”

  Laszlo was struck, and he laughed, smiling broadly, “So, you really don’t know,” he laughed again, nearly in hysterics, until he started shouting like a madman. “You’re out of your league Runabout. I’ll give you one chance to surrender and get ready for a long stay in Enzeli.”

  The sirens outside began wailing and Laszlo grinned, and his voice became cold, “Those odds you were speaking of? They just changed again.”

  Emily looked at Meade in panic. “I think it time we got the hell outta dodge, don’t you?”

  “Out the back,” Meade said firmly and she nodded. He covered Laszlo while they backed out of the room. Meade was struck by the look Laszlo gave him before he moved out the door. Laszlo wasn’t looking at him in fear, or rage, but instead, it was the same sort of look a cat got when it found something new to play with.

  It was unsettling to say the least.

  Meade and Emeline moved out of the front room of her bar and back to the storeroom. Meade slammed the door leading out to the bar shut. He grabbed a nearby crowbar and wedged it underneath the doorframe to keep anyone from busting in before they got out. At the same time, Emeline was moving large kegs out of the way from the back of the room. He finished locking down the door and he turned to help her.

  “Push a few of these against the door,” Emeline ordered.

  Meade hurried to move some more kegs of the stacked kegs of beer to barricade against the door when they heard the Coalition MPs flood inside her bar. The MPs started banging against the door to the storeroom and Meade slammed his body up against the frame.

  Emeline moved some more kegs and furniture over by the door and grabbed what looked like a miniature fire extinguisher. Emeline began spraying it against the cracks in the door to seal and glue it shut. It was Durablast which was generally used to fill in tiny cracks from meteor strikes on spacecraft,

  The metal door was quickly sealed and Emeline ditched the durablast container once it was empty, “That ought to hold ‘em for a few minutes.”

  The pounding continued and she pointed to a large book case, typing quickly on her ArmBar, “Pull that out from against the wall.”

  Meade did as he was instructed and moved to the opposite side of the room. He pulled the bookcase firmly, expecting it to be heavy and not want to move easily. Instead, it swung open on hinges and he fell to the ground, head over ass.

  Emeline paused at the doorframe her body outlined by the dim light of the tunnel behind and grimaced, “You coming or you gonna nap all day?”

  “Pardon
me for not being the graceful one,” Meade said exasperated. He got up and grabbed his hat, placed it back on his head and followed Emeline out the door. He pulled the bookcase closed behind him and was rewarded with a click.

  Chapter Eight

  He hated being underground New Plymouth like this. He really, really hated it.

  The dark tunnel extended out in front of him for what looked like kilometers. He ducked and grumbled as red dust fell from the ceiling, following Emeline through the tunnels that snaked behind the cities carved into the Valles Marineris walls.

  There wasn’t much appealing to Meade to living like a rat in the ground. But many people had made their living just like this for decades on Mars. In fact, his parents used to talk about living in the underground tunnels while he was growing up. It was their way of a constantly reminding him of how good he had it, especially when things weren’t so great in reality.

  Meade brushed aside the memories and followed Emeline’s ArmBar light. He hoped she knew where she was going. He knew about the secret exit, but had never bothered to go on a tour. Didn’t seem necessary at the time.

  “How much further?” Meade asked, shining his ArmBar light ahead of him.

  “Only a few hundred meters and then it splits off into five different tunnels, each of which also split off into five more. It’s a maze down there, they’ll never find their way out.” Emeline looked back at him. “I say we split up.”

  He shook his head emphatically, “Absolutely not. No.”

  “It makes sense Meade,” she chided him. “Gives us twice the chance to escape and get back to Sarah with whatever the hell is on that ArmBar of yours.”

  She paused and cocked her head looking back at him, “I assume that’s what they came looking for anyway.”

  “That’s what they were looking for,” Meade admitted. “I got it, but I couldn’t tell ya what’s on it. It was a base copy of his ArmBar so it’s not only secure coded with Laszlo’s DNA, but it’s also got some heavy duty Coalition encryption I’ve never seen before.”

  Emeline paused and considered, “I don’t know about Laszlo’s DNA, but I do think I know someone who can help break those Coalition Codes.”

  “Do I want to know who?” Meade asked.

  “Grayborn,” Emeline said.

  Meade’s expression turned dour, “How the hell would he be able to help?”

  “People don’t think I hear things when I bartend, but I do,” Emeline said mysteriously. “It ain’t even eavesdropping exactly. Kansas is with the MiMs.”

  Meade laughed and shook his head, “He’s an Independence movement guy? I’d pegged him for being smarter than that.”

  “There’s plenty of folk who think that the Coalition gives the Martian colonists a raw deal,” Emeline said. “You know that.”

  “I also know what the Coalition is capable of, and the kind of firepower they have. MiM’s live in a fantasy world that hasn’t existed for centuries,” Meade snorted.

  “It ain’t like we got a lot of options.

  Meade sighed, “What can he do to help?”

  “They got a server farm they use to decode Coalition comm traffic,” Emeline said, ducking under a low hanging rock.

  “And just how the hell do you know that?” Meade demanded.

  “I helped build it,” Emeline said.

  Meade was taken aback, “You’re a MiM now too?”

  “Not exactly,” she admitted. “Kansas caught me eavesdropping on him during a meeting he was having and instead of putting me in a box, he recruited me to help him set up the server farm. He knew I was good with a compiler, I needed cash, it seemed like an easy gig, so I agreed.”

  Meade shook his head, of all the people in the world, he never expected Emeline to go along with the Martian Independence Movement. Her father had been a National Directive Coalition Man. National Directive Personal were the best of the best and some of the highest decorated soldiers in their ranks.

  “I’m surprised you’re still up and walking around.”

  “He’s not a bad man Jim,” Emeline said rebuking him. “He’s looking to make everyone’s life better and you don’t do that by killing the person who helped them set up their server farm.”

  “You don’t know…”

  “It’s called trust Jim,” Emeline said, her eyes narrowing. “Not everyone is like you, you know.”

  Meade lowered his head and grumbled. She might have a point, Meade did have a tough time trusting people, so he supposed if Emeline said Kansas Grayborn was all right by her, then he was all right by Meade.

  “How big is the server farm?” Meade asked, resigning himself. “Can it break the encryption on the file?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Emeline puffed out her chest in pride, “When I built it, it was powerful enough to take down the latest and greatest Coalition codes.”

  Meade grinned, “I always knew you were talented Em, I just never counted on anything you knew actually helping me out at any point.”

  “Christ, you’re an asshole.”

  “Don’t tell anyone,” Meade said. “Wouldn’t want it to ruin my rep.”

  They continued down the cramped hallway when they heard a crash behind them. They glanced at each other and Emeline’s eyes widened.

  “They found the hallway,” Meade snapped, “Run!”

  They ran down the twisting and turning tunnel moving into the belly of the mountain. Meade heard the sounds and shouts of the Coalition MPs who were filling the tunnel and barking orders at each other. They had picked up their trail. The MPs’ scanners allowed them to follow their scent signature through the musty hallway fairly easily.

  Rocks sparked over Meade’s head as the MPs fired at them. Meade turned and fired back with the pistol, the shots pinging through the cramped hallway walls.

  “Jesus that’s loud!” Emeline said. “You really need to get a growler attachment for your ArmBar.”

  “I like the classics, what can I say?” Meade replied, squeezing off a few more shots at the oncoming MPs.

  They reached the fork where the tunnel split into five different exits. Emeline turned to him and pushed him towards the third from the left.

  “This will take you back towards the Coalition HQ.”

  “What?” Meade asked. “Why would I go into the lion’s den?”

  “Because that bitch might have set you up,” Emeline said, her eyes flashing, “And you need to go find out exactly what the hell is on that goddamn thing before we all end up in a ditch. Now go, we split up, we’re more likely to get away.”

  Meade looked at her and thought about his situation. The shouts behind them got louder and closer and suddenly he realized that he had no choice. He had barely escaped with his life once already today. He couldn’t let them have another crack at him so soon.

  “There’s no time for you to think about this Meade,” Emeline said, her voice much softer this time. “I know what I’m doing. Two lefts, a right and then two more lefts, that’ll lead you out. Go now. We don’t have any more time.”

  “No…”

  “Goddammit Meade!” Emeline snapped, “Two lefts, a right and two more lefts, repeat it back.”

  Meade let out a huge breath and he nodded. She nodded back and darted into the tunnel opposite.

  Meade’s face fell and he moved quickly towards the tunnel Emeline had shown him. He pushed his way through, slamming his fist in rage against the exit, moving silently down the mine and towards the exit.

  He moved quickly down the tunnel throwing up handfuls of dirt at random points to mask his tracks and hopefully interfere with the Coalition’s scanners. After what felt like a few dozen kilometers (but was probably only a few hundred meters), he found himself at the exit out to New Plymouth.

  Once outside, he moved cautiously to the edge of the alley to see Laszlo escorting Emeline out the front. A set of Coalition MPs met Laszlo at the entrance and he waved them off. Lumpy followed Laszlo out of the door and into a luxury Aerocycle waiting
outside. Lumpy closed the door behind Laszlo and Emeline who was now restrained.

  The Coalition MPs began to fan out around the Last Ditch, and Meade bit his lip. He had to move. Wherever they were taking Emeline they would be sure to contact him when they wanted to meet and exchange the info. All he needed to do was find out what was on the damn thing.

  Chapter Nine

  Meade stood watching outside the Coalition barracks where Sarah told him he could find her after he completed his mission for her.

  He watched the Coalition MPs shuffle in and out of the building, some heading for their night shift, while others were returning home from their shift keeping the peace around New Plymouth. Meade knew he couldn’t sit outside the headquarters long without being spotted by someone who would recognize his mug from the wanted poster currently plastered all over the city.

  He saw Sarah leave the front of the barracks. She was shoulder checked by a larger Coalition MP who stared her down. Her eyes darted towards the towering MP guarding the entrance who was pretending not to notice her treatment. Because of her father’s legal troubles, they were treating her no better than as if she had betrayed the Coalition herself. After the events of the last day or so, Meade wasn’t so sure if he still felt sorry for her. Sarah had gotten him in deep with something that was much larger than a simple hack job and he wanted to know what it was.

  She moved through the crowded streets and Meade began to follow her from a respectable distance doing his best not to lose her. He pulled his hat low over his eyes and blended in with the crowd. Most of the moles and Coalition MPs didn’t even look up at him, intent on staring at their ArmBar readouts while they caught up on the day’s news from their friends, family and the wireless news services. Most of the MPs were getting off shift and were so distracted by their screens, they wouldn’t have noticed if the Consortium Elders were walking right next to them.

  Still, Meade made sure to move cautiously through the crowd, keeping his head low and eyes on Sarah. He wished he had some of that Camotech used by the terrorists who brought down Captain Gonzalez’s transport. It’d make his job of moving through the masses without being spotted much easier. But, so long he didn’t bother them, they wouldn’t bother him. He was just another Runabout so far as they were concerned.