“Well, yes, Sir. We take payment in any form except deferred or guarantor. We do, however, offer excellent rates to those who can provide reputable references.”
“No need, Freddie. We’ll return with the cash within the hour.”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll have it ready for you. Your name is?”
“Lukas Kask, and this is Jan Farkas.”
Kaufman could see Barski grin at how quickly he spouted out the names, well aware that he had already thought this through.
“Good to meet you,” said Freddie.
He reached out and shook hands with them both.
“Listen, Freddie, we have to swing by our accountants and pick up the cash, so we’ll be back within the hour. Can you get her fuelled up and ready to go by then?”
“Certainly, Sir. Would you like any further options? We offer a fine maintenance and insurance programme.”
“No, that’ll be fine, Freddie, but we could do with a car.”
“Sure, that can be arranged, a Cadillac work for you?”
Barski pulled a face and assumed it was a joke. With most of the major car manufacturers having died off in the last century, Cadillac had become a hand built automobile maker for only the truly rich.
“That’ll be great. Just make sure it has at least five seats.”
Barski could barely believe his ears. He’d always wanted a Caddy, ever since he’d had vintage posters of them on his bedroom wall as a kid.
“Okay, you can make this happen for us?” asked Kaufman.
“Sure thing, boss. One hour, you have the cash here and you’re good to go.”
“Thank you, Freddie. We’ll be back.”
Chapter 8
Kaufman reached for the cut-off switch for his transmission to Denton and lay back in his comfy leather chair with a sigh. He peered around his new surroundings, knowing they would be short lived. The vessel was in many respects even more luxurious than the Intrepid, only substantially smaller. The craft had just three bedrooms, a bridge, dining and living room and single docking bay for a car.
The more successful and affluent criminal gangs operating across the colonies frequently used such craft to ferry goods. There were few craft in existence that could keep up with the rapid Spacerunners and none could outpace them. They were intended for wealthy owners to ferry their families with speed and comfort between the colonies and to some of the popular holiday destinations in the System.
Kaufman spun his chair around and stormed out of the room and onto the bridge. Everything on the ship was contained on one level, except the car. That was in an under slung compartment. The four companions he had selected were there and Kaminski was at the helm. With her Mars upbringing, she was far more familiar with the craft than the rest of them.
“It’s done, we’re free and clear, for a while at least. The Commander is a smart man. He’s likely already realised that we have left the ship, but he will guard our secret.”
“Sir, what information did Chambers give you?” asked Morrison.
“A single name of someone we must look up at our first opportunity.”
“You think he was really honest with you?” asked Wells.
“One thing I have learnt about men like Chambers, they are always looking to get ahead. I proved to him that I was for real and he has a lot to gain. Munoz has controlled too much of the market for too long, and now everyone wants a piece.”
“You think they’ll turn on each other so quickly?”
“These men aren’t like you and I, Cheryl. They talk of honour and allegiance, but it’s all bullshit. They’d kill their own mother for an extra slice of the pie.”
“Is he in the city, this contact?” asked Barski.
“It appears so. No matter how much crap you think goes on in LB, there’s always room for more. It’s still the largest business centre of the world, and we’d probably find tens of thousands of people to arrest if we looked hard enough.”
“We are just five officers in a metropolis, Sir. What can we do?” asked Kaminski.
“No, we are five people with the desire to do the right thing and nobody to tell us we can’t. It’s a dangerous combination. I intend to raise hell over the coming days. It’ll be a while before Munoz or Malory realise we’re in town, so let’s use that to our advantage.”
“What sort of person is this contact?” she asked.
“He’s a ‘go to’ guy for those who want to do business with Munoz. The exclusive few who can afford to.”
It wasn’t long before they were approaching Earth once again, now with the impending fear of the wall they had to climb. LB used to feel like home, but now it felt like a hellhole of savage beasts to avoid at all costs.
“It’s going to be a long week,” said Barski.
“If we make it that long,” said Morrison.
Kaufman looked down at what he was wearing, realising it was all he now owned for the coming days.
“Morrison, do you have any contacts that’ll get us some hardware? We need stuff that won’t be traced.”
“I have a few old buddies who’d probably help out, but it won’t come free.”
“That’s fine. We stick together whenever possible in the city. First port of call, we need some new outfits. Morrison, where’s your contact?”
“On the western edge of the city, Sir. It’s a real shithole but he’s a straight up guy.”
“Alright, first is to find new clothes, we’ll do it en route to your man.”
Kaufman handed out ID cards to each of them.
“These are you new identities. Do not log your old ones anywhere and only pay with cash from what we have got. Do not contact anyone you know, unless previously agreed. Do not attempt to access anything linked with your real identities.”
“Undercover work is not exactly the hands on approach I am familiar with, Sir.”
“You’ll be fine, Morrison. Let’s get this done right.”
They looked back as they approached the planet. To most of them it should have been a welcome journey home.
“I’ve never seen the city.”
“You’re not missing much, Kaminski,” replied Kaufman.
“Easy to say for a man who has seen the Solar System.”
* * *
They stepped out onto the LB base and were greeted by yet another news story attempting to grind them into the dust. In an interview with a news agency, Senator Malory was publically asking about the necessity and effectiveness of the IBI.
“I simply do not understand why this vastly over cost organisation is chasing a ghost. Money Munoz is an urban myth and an excuse that inept authorities use to justify their lack of progress in high profile cases...”
“He’s really getting his teeth into us,” said Kaminski.
“and what of the appointed head of the IBI, Commander Denton?” asked the interviewer.
“Denton was Senator Wilks’ decision. I can see why at the time he may have been seen as fit for the job, but I am failing to see how his employment can now be justified. I believe Mr Denton has taken the organisation on a tangent that can only waste public money and squander resources, for no result.”
“Shit, we’ve got to move fast,” said Barski.
“I’ve heard enough. Let’s move!”
Kaufman stepped up to the hull of the ship and opened a control panel. He flipped a switch and the loading bay dropped smoothly to the surface, revealing the Cadillac. It had a vast chrome grille, twice the size of their Ford’s. The wings swept back across half the length of the vehicle and the windscreen was split in half with a chrome divider. The bodywork was a deep gloss black.
“Damn,” said Barski.
“Hardly a subtle vehicle,” said Wells.
“Far from it. Cops always travel in the same vehicles. Who would ever expect us to be in such a luxury vehicle? We will be hiding in plain sight.”
“I’m driving!”
“Okay, Barski, get in. We’ve got work to do.”
Two h
ours later they were pulling up outside an old derelict factory on the city’s boundaries. Redevelopment had not reached that part of town and few were keen to turf out the people who lived there. It suited many to leave them in squalor. The company sign of the factory could just be made out through the rust and dirt. It was a car manufacturer that went out of business ten years before.
“My buddy, Hex, worked in this factory till it closed down, as did his father before him. I grew up with the guy. When he finished his service in the Marines, he came here and moved in. I suppose he had nowhere else to go. We always said we would go into business together, but my sentence put a hold on that,” said Morrison.
“You think he’ll still be welcoming?” asked Kaufman.
“Sure, as long as we don’t bring trouble to his door.”
Kaufman caught a glimpse of movement and turned to see a wall-mounted sentry gun tracking their car.
“Yeah, Hex always was a careful one. No sudden moves, don’t flash any badges and most definitely do not draw any weapons,” Morrison said.
Barski drew up to the front of the building.
“I don’t like this at all, Eric. How do we know we can trust this guy?”
“We don’t, but if Morrison vouches for him then we will have to. We have enough enemies right now, so let’s not make another one.”
They carefully climbed out of the vehicle. Kaufman could see multiple cameras and two mounted guns were watching them. They walked slowly, eyeing up their surroundings. Morrison strode right up to the entrance doorway. One camera was trained on the door, so he looked up.
“Hey, Hex! It’s me, Morrison.”
There was no reply. Kaufman could see that Morrison was worried. Perhaps he had got it wrong, and now they were in the firing line. Then a loud grind rang out as bolts were drawn back and the door slid open. A man in an old combat jacket ran at Morrison. Kaufman’s hand quickly reached for his handgun, but the man embraced Morrison and lifted him off his feet.
“You’re out!” he shouted.
He put Morrison back down. Hex was a rough looking man, yet still in good shape with rough stubble and a bedraggled look. He wore a handgun on his leg and a brace of spare magazines on the other. Kaufman could just make out the body armour beneath his shirt.
“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you anytime soon!” shouted Hex.
“Me neither, how’ve you been?” asked Morrison.
The man’s smile turned to a suspicious grimace as he peered around at Kaufman and the others.
“Who are your friends here?”
“Hex, this is the man who got me out on the agreement that I worked for him. Meet Captain Eric Kaufman.”
“IBI, holy shit,” he looked back at his old friend. “You’re the last man I’d have expected to see in the Bureau. Is this a social call or you got something on me?”
“Quite honestly, we need your help. Morrison thought you would come through for us,” Kaufman said.
“Help from me? Shit, this sounds good. Let’s take this inside. I don’t like being in the open for too long. And get that car inside, or you’ll draw all kinds of attention around here.”
Hex strolled back through the door. A moment later a large shutter juddered and lifted. They could see old car shells still lined up inside the factory. Kaufman turned to Barski and nodded for him to do as instructed. Once the car was inside the shutters quickly rolled back down. Hex led the team up an old iron stairwell to what was the foreman’s office. It was a long and broad room that had been converted into his living space. Weapons and ammunition boxes were stacked tall in one corner.
In another corner was a computer setup with eleven monitors. They were mostly set to the security cameras located in and around the facility. Hex did not appear to be a poor man. A large projection screen and sofas occupied the centre of the room. He beckoned for them to sit with him.
“So, the IBI needs my help. Not that I can say I would be keen to help under normal circumstances, but when a buddy is in need and all that.”
“Morrison speaks highly of you and I will therefore trust you. The truth is, this is an off the book mission. You’re a clued up guy, so you must know we’ve got big problems right now.”
“No shit! The powers that be are gunning for your asses.”
“Well, it’s a lot worse than you have seen. What we need are guns and ammunition. It needs to be a cash deal with no records and no traceable weapons,” said Kaufman.
“Wow, you really did come to the right place. Anything you need, I’ve got.”
“I am not going to lie to you. We are tangling with some very dangerous people, so helping us could put you in danger.”
“These people, they bad dudes?”
Morrison nodded. It was all the clarification that Hex needed.
“Not to be rude, but we’re also on a limited timescale.”
“Well, no troubles. You just had to say, Captain.”
He leapt up and rushed over to the nearest piles of boxes. He lifted off the lids and pulled out a carbine; it was brand new and in a military marked crate.
“Latest STU100. Hundred round mags, and will put a hole in most body armours. It’s accurate up to six hundred metres and reliable as hell.”
Kaufman looked to Morrison who nodded.
“Is this the kind of thing you’re after?” asked Hex.
“More than we could have hoped for. We’ll take five, and three thousand rounds of ammo if you’ve got it,” said Kaufman.
“No problem. I’ve also got non-lethal ammo for them. Give enough volts at a hundred metres to put you down for a few hours.”
“Alright, we’ll take a pile of that as well. Also flash grenades and some extra sidearm ammunition.”
“You got it, boss.”
Ten minutes later they had everything they needed loaded into the Caddy. It was the first good turn they’d had since it had all begun. Hex gave them a great price that was far less than Kaufman expected.
“You sure about this?” he asked.
“You just keep my boy here safe, and remember me sometime in the future. I do alright here, but it ain’t gonna last forever. Got to get out someday.”
“I hear you. Thanks, for everything.”
He shook Kaufman’s hand and hugged his old buddy. Kaufman knew they were breaking no end of laws, but also that the ends justified the means. They rolled out of the building just twenty minutes after arriving.
“He’s a good man,” said Kaufman.
“One of the best. All he wanted to do was come back here and carry on with a simple life, but the city had different ideas,” replied Morrison.
They were silent as Kaufman punched in the co-ordinates for Barski to follow.
“You all knew this time was coming. We are going to see the one name we have that could lead us to Munoz. He will not easily talk.”
“What are you saying, Sir?” asked Wells.
Kaufman sighed.
“I’m saying that the time for playing by the book is over. The rules are out here. We do whatever we have to. This guy we’re going to see is scum. His goons are murderers and cop killers. We aren’t going in to ask questions. We’re going in with force to get what we need.”
“You want to assault the place?”
“Damn right, Kaminski! It’s an office complex with minimal guards. Munoz’s people have gotten used to be untouchable, and their complacency will be their downfall. We hit them hard and fast.”
“ROE, Sir?” asked Wells.
“Do not fire at unarmed targets or anyone willing to lay down their arms. That’s it.”
“We start shooting and we’ll draw a ton of attention.”
“Not in this part of town, Wells. The gangsters round here sort out their own problems, and nobody wants the cops involved. Just follow my lead,” said Kaufman.
Barski grinned. He had some idea of what was coming.
“Shit, Sir! You want to see this,” said Morrison.
He was looking at
a news channel on his datapad and pointed to the main screen on the dash. A photo of Denton was displayed as the reader continued.
“...the Senators feel that Mr Denton is no longer fit to serve as Head of the Interplanetary Bureau of Intelligence. They have asked for his immediate resignation, a pressure which no man can resist. Despite the IBI’s many successes since its foundation just six months ago, their recent missions have been marred by failure and death. We have just had word that Commander Denton is making a public announcement as we speak.”
The screen flickered and cut to a view of a podium setup within the IBI office from where Denton made his press conferences.
“Ladies and Gentlemen. I would like to thank you all for being here this afternoon. As the first leader of the IBI, I can justifiably be proud of the many great achievements we have made in the few months we have been in existence. Let us not forget the world we lived in before the IBI became operational. However, following recent events, and the vote of no confidence from the Senators, I have no choice but to step down as Head of the IBI and issue my immediate resignation...”
“Shit!” shouted Kaufman.
He threw his hat down into his lap. The rest of the crew were still stunned by the news.
“Barski, turn us around. We have to get to Denton before he leaves The Spire.”
“Sir? What the hell are you thinking? Everyone in The Spire wants your head on a spike. It’s the last place we should be,” said Barski.
“He’s right. We have a job to do,” said Morrison.
“We all know that Denton isn’t just being fired. He’s being fed to the wolves. The second he loses the protection of the organisation he’s a dead man,” said Kaufman.
Kaminski nodded.
“I agree. I have yet to meet the Commander, but we cannot let one of our own go down without a fight,” she said.
Barski scoffed as he spun the wheel around and planted his foot to the floor. He knew as the others did that they had to help their fallen leader. They tore through the city towards The Spire. The cops didn’t dare stop them. They knew it was not worth causing trouble with anyone wealthy enough to own such a car, so they let them get away with most things short of murder.
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