by Neil Hunter
The black limo was already inside the complex, rolling slowly along the dock. Cade watched it turn in at the entrance to the last warehouse in the line. He eased the Ford to the dock entrance. The security droid on the gate stepped out of its hut.
“Can I help you, sir?”
Cade showed his badge. The droid’s eyes scanned the badge, picking up the bar code. The code activated a memory chip that instructed the droid to defer to the Justice Marshal.
“Anything I can do to help, Marshal Cade?”
“No. I just need to look around. No sweat.”
The droid opened the barrier and Cade drove in. He kept his eyes open as he eased the car into a parking slot just inside the entrance. He covered the length of the dock on foot. There wasn’t much activity. Only one travel-stained freighter was moored against the quayside, and the robot dockworkers who were loading the vessel ignored Cade as he passed by. He reached the far end of the line of warehouses and saw that the huge doors had been closed. He moved around the end wall, checking the length of the massive building. There was a small access door set in the wall. Cade tried the handle and found it was unlocked. He eased the door open enough to allow him to slip through.
Once he was inside, he pressed himself against the wall, keeping to the deep shadows thrown by the stacked goods filling the interior. He cautiously threaded his way across the floor area, toward the source of the voices he could hear. It took him a couple of minutes to pin the sound down.
Peering around the edge of stacked crates, Cade spotted the black limo. It was parked in a cleared area of the floor, and a number of figures were gathered around it.
Cade recognized Barney Culver first. The cop was having an animated conversation with a tall, sandy-haired man in his early forties. The others surrounding them were all armed. The conversation between Culver and the sandy-haired man became louder. Culver looked to be getting angry.
“... give me a hard time, Tane,” the cop said forcibly. “I had to do something fast. Takagi had gotten lucky picking those names out of the computer banks. If he hadn’t come to me, this whole deal might be slipping down the tubes right now. We’re too short on time to let complications get in the way.”
“You didn’t have to start a war right in the middle of Battery Park,” Tane replied. “Jesus, Culver.”
“Look, I figured I had to take the chance to get rid of him before he could talk to Cade. The man is a Justice marshal. Like ‘em or not, they’re tough bastards. Admit it, Tane, the combat droids messed up. All they had to do was ice Takagi, then wait until Cade and his partner showed and do the same for them. Instead, we ended up with a goddamn massacre... those droids totaled and that chopper of yours shot out of the sky. So don’t blow your stack at me. You and your mercs were hired to handle this sort of thing. You gave me the contact for those droids in case of an emergency, and I used them.”
“The colonels aren’t going to be too happy about this,” Tane said tightly. “They wanted us to keep a low profile until the day. Now look. Low fuckin’ profile!”
“Don’t forget it was your damn droids who terminated the three Amosin workers when they decided they wanted out of the deal,” Culver said angrily. “Those shit-for-brains droids had to do each one exactly the same. No wonder Takagi got suspicious.”
Culver took a deep breath.
“Okay. Okay, Tane. Let’s calm down. Takagi’s dead. I’ve done what I can to lose the data in the computer banks. The main worry now is Cade. I don’t think he believed everything I told him last night. Could be he’s doing some digging right now. He has a reputation for staying with something until it breaks one way or the other.”
“Meaning he’ll be coming back to talk to you?”
“Possibly,” Culver said.
“Then we’ve got to take him out,” Tane insisted. “But this time I’ll handle it.”
“What do I do? Sit around and wait for him to come looking for me? Right now I’m the only link he has to George Takagi.”
“Get out of town for a few days. Use your rank to swing it. Hell, I don’t know. Just vanish.”
“I guess I could take the boat out for a run,” Culver said. “I’m due sometime.”
Tane nodded. “Then do it. Give me some room to work, and I’ll have this supercop, Cade, boxed and wrapped by the time you get back.”
Culver nodded. He climbed back in the limo, and two of the gunmen joined him, one getting behind the wheel. Someone raised the warehouse door, and the limo backed out. The door slid shut again with an oiled rattle.
The man named Tane took a portable telephone from one of his gunmen. He tapped in a number, waiting for it to connect.
“Colonel, it’s me, Tane. Yeah. We just finished speaking. What do I think? I don’t trust him, sir. I didn’t like the way he handled the Takagi affair. It could have been done a lot quieter. That’s the trouble when you deal with the civilians, sir. They don’t have the military mind to back them up. I’m going to handle things myself from now on, Culver? You could be right, sir. We can survive without him. We have other solid connections within the police department.”
“Whatever you say, sir. Consider it done. And the other matter is being organized right now. We’ll have everything in place in time. Right, sir. I’ll be in touch.”
Tane cut the connection and handed the phone back to his man. “Okay, let’s get things rolling. Someone’s going into early retirement, and we’re going to help him along the way.”
“So long, Culver!” someone said, raising a grim chuckle from the assembled gunmen.
The automatic door opened. A sleek Chrysler Centaur MK 4 with a turbo-boosted engine rolled out of the warehouse shadows. Tane and two of his men climbed in. The gleaming car nosed its silent way out of the warehouse, and the door dropped behind it.
Cade watched the remaining two mercs. They stood talking for a moment, then made their way to an office where they sat down and opened cans of beer.
Business was heating up. Cade decided it was time to do some pushing of his own. He worked his way to the rear of the office. The main wall and one side had glass panels, allowing supervision over the main warehouse area. The door was in the end wall, which had solid construction. Cade was covered right up to the moment he opened the door and entered the structure. Pressed up against the door, he could hear the muted tones of the pair inside. He pulled the .357 auto-pistol, easing off the safety. Reaching for the handle of the door, Cade gripped his weapon, mentally picturing the position of the two gunmen at the table.
Then he pressed the handle, shoved open the door and went in fast.
They were both still at the table. The one facing Cade had a beer can raised to his lips. The other was halfway out of his seat, already turning as he moved to carry out some errand.
He saw Cade before his partner and reacted the moment he spotted the Magnum.
Cade recognized the look in the man’s eyes and knew damn well that the idiot was going to go for his gun.
He threw up his left hand in warning. “Don’t try...”he yelled, knowing the guy wasn’t going to pay any attention. He saw the man’s fingers curl around the butt of the gun holstered under his left arm, and tracked the .357 around, pulling the trigger
The powerful slug hit the target high in the chest on the left side. It shredded flesh and muscle as it tunneled through and blew a spongy hole as it exited. The shot man fell back across the table, scattering everything in sight, then rolled off the edge and crashed to the floor in a heap. Blood spattered the face of his partner as he scrambled back from the table in panic. His beer can flew from nerveless fingers, and his legs got tangled up in his seat. He stumbled back, yelling in surprise, balance all gone to hell, and fell against the glass panel behind him. It shattered and he was suddenly engulfed in a shower of broken glass.
Cade reached the table, shoving it aside. He reached down and scooped the shot man’s gun from its holster, then turned to jam the muzzle of the Magnum into the face of the other m
an as he raised his head.
“Take the gun out,” Cade snapped. “Do it slowly, because I’ve already got the feeling I want to shoot someone else today and you’re at the top of my list.”
The man did as he was told. He was shaken by what had happened. His face smarted badly from numerous glass cuts, and he didn’t like the hard gleam in Cade’s eyes.
Cade took the proffered gun. “On your feet,” he said, backing away from the man. “Get your buddy into a chair.”
“Jesus,” the man moaned. “He’s bleeding all over the place.”
“What do you expect when he got shot? You always partner idiots, or are you naturally unlucky?”
Cade checked the office for a phone and spotted one on the wall. Keeping the pair under his gun, he picked up the receiver. He punched in the office number and waited until Janek’s face appeared on the vid-screen.
“Do me a favor,” Cade said. “Get a cleanup team down to me right away. Got a couple of perps here for the lockup. One needs a med-droid. Gunshot wound.”
“Wouldn’t be from a .357 Magnum, would it?” the cybo asked. “T. J., I wish you’d curb your violent tendencies.”
“Just start the ball rolling, Janek, and get down here with them.” Cade gave the warehouse’s telephone number, knowing that Janek would have the location within a couple of minutes.
“Don’t go away, T. J.,” Janek said dryly.
Cade finished the call and turned his full attention back to his prisoners.
“Be a while before the cavalry arrives, boys. So we’ve got time to have a nice get-acquainted chat.”
Chapter Four
Janek had filed away all the information Cade had passed along. The cybo’s electronic brain was capable of amassing endless details, all of which he could recall at a moment’s notice. Even as he absorbed the information, his data store was checking to see if he already had details on any of the names and locations.
“Sorry, T. J., I don’t seem to have anything on the names you gave me.”
“You can check them with Washington Central when we get back.”
“What did you learn from those two?” Janek asked, referring to the prisoners.
“Nothing,” Cade said. “One thing I figured out for myself. They’re not the local hired guns I thought they were. Those are different. These are hard-nosed types. I’d say mercs. Didn’t blink an eye when I questioned them. Knew exactly how to behave.”
“Keeps coming back at us,” Janek said. “Combat droids. Military helicopter. Now mercs.”
“And this guy Tane. He had a telephone conversation with someone he kept calling ‘Colonel.’”
“So where to now?” Janek asked.
“Barney Culver,” Cade said. “Before his ex-buddies dump him.”
They walked out of the warehouse. A cleanup team from the department had the area cordoned off. On Cade’s instruction the two prisoners were being moved to a Justice Department secure facility. Once there, they would be totally isolated. A stakeout team would stay behind, out of sight, and monitor any visitors to the warehouse. A preliminary check of the warehouse contents had uncovered a cache of military auto-rifles and handguns. Janek had memorized code numbers for future checking.
“Let’s find the car and get out of here,” Cade said. “I want you to plug yourself into the office computer. Try and get a location for this boat Culver owns.”
Minutes later, as Cade pushed his way through the traffic, Janek connected himself by means of the car-phone modem to the terminal back at their office. Through the sensitive fingertips of his hand, the cybo was able to communicate directly with the data banks. It was a useful facility, saving time and effort, and was only one of his inbuilt functions.
“Culver owns a forty-foot power cruiser called The Good Life. Moors it at the Sag Harbor Marina on Long Island.”
Cade made a mental route change. He stepped on the gas pedal and sent the vehicle surging forward, hitting the button that activated the built-in siren and set the lights flashing. Drivers began to grudgingly give way under Cade’s relentless onslaught. He fought his way through until he was able to pick up East Thirty-fourth Street, then hammered the Ford up to its maximum speed, weaving in and out of the traffic.
Janek took one look at the rising speedometer needle and tightened his seatbelt. He leaned back in the padded seat and tuned in to the twenty-four-hour jazz station, trying to ignore the blur of vehicles Cade was passing.
As his awareness of human sensation and emotional response developed, the cybo often saw the sense in retaining his robotic indifference to such things as understanding danger or risk, or placing himself in the hands of a reckless human. A pure robot would sit and accept without question that his human partner was driving like a suicide pilot. Janek was unable to do that now. He couldn’t show it physically, but in all other aspects he was sweating.
Cade slowed as he approached the Queens Midtown Tunnel and hung a sharp left. He held the siren as he pushed through the tunnel, emerging on the Long Island Expressway, which cut across Queens and Nassau County, and then through to Long Island itself.
There was only thin traffic heading out toward the far end of the island. The interstate highway stretched ahead of Cade, fading in the distance. Heat waves shimmered on the gleaming surface.
“You’d better contact the local law,” Cade suggested. “Get us clearance. I don’t want some eager patrolman flagging us down.”
Janek picked up the phone and isolated the area frequencies. He identified himself and the vehicle, then proceeded to request assistance from the zone controller.
“What’s it all about, Marshal Janek?” came the voice of the controller.
“We have reason to believe there could be a homicide attempt taking place. Until we’re able to pinpoint the target, we need a free hand.”
“I want to cooperate, Marshal Janek,” the controller wavered, “but...”
Cade reached out and took the handset.
“T. J. Cade, Justice Department. Who are you?”
“Deputy Stillman.”
“Just keep your people out of the way, Stillman. I’m not asking, I’m telling. This is Justice Department business, and it takes priority over local jurisdiction. Got it? Just let your people know.”
Janek took the handset back. He dropped it on its cradle.
“There was no need...” he began.
“I don’t know who else is involved in this,” Cade said. “What am I supposed to do? Alert every cop between here and Grand Bahama. All we need is the wrong one, and we’ve blown it.”
“I guess you’re right,” Janek conceded reluctantly.
“No guesses about it.”
At the intersection with County 111, Cade left the expressway, cutting through to where he could pick up State Highway 27. He was able to follow this all the way through to Bridgehampton. From there it was an easy change to the local road that took them directly to Sag Harbor. Cade kept his foot to the floor all the way, burning past every other vehicle on the highway, including the local police cruisers.
“You obviously made an impact on Stillman,” Janek remarked, noting the way the cruisers ignored their passing.
“I hope that’s what it means,” Cade growled.
Cade slowed the cruiser as he entered Sag Harbor. The picturesque former whaling port had stayed quite true to its origins, and, beyond its concession to android labor and the electronic conveniences of the new age, stubbornly refused to be dragged any further into the twenty-first century. The old customs house, the first in New York, was still in evidence. Following the illuminated signs, Cade drove through to the harbor, then took the road along to the extended marina.
“I could spend some time here,” Janek observed. He was taking in the surroundings with great interest. “The ocean has a very soothing effect, T. J.”
“Maybe they knocked you together out of old submarine parts,” Cade suggested.
“You’re a cynical son of a bitch,” the cybo rep
lied tautly.
Cade chuckled to himself.
“Stop here,” Janek said.
He climbed out of the vehicle and stood at the rail, looking out across the water.
“Culver’s boat,” he said, pointing across the harbor.
Cade squinted his eyes against the hard glare of the sun. The light reflecting off the water blurred his vision.
“There. Heading out toward the point,” Janek said.
“Damn!” Cade said. “We missed him.”
“I think someone is following him out,” Janek said. “There’s a powerboat in his wake.”
“Bring the SPAS,” Cade said.
He started down the ramp leading to the quayside. He was heading for the powerboat rentals dock. The droid in charge, clad in seaman’s thick wool jersey and wearing a battered fisherman’s cap, glanced up, beaming in earnest jollity.
“And what’ll it be?” it asked in rolling tones.
Cade stuck his badge under the droid’s nose. The android registered the bar code and responded immediately.
“Yes, Marshal?”
“Your fastest boat,” Cade said.
“There,” the droid said. “The Arrow.”
Cade and Janek scrambled aboard the craft. Passing the SPAS combat shotgun to his partner, the cybo took the controls and fired up the powerful turbo engine. He engaged the forward gear, and the long, sleek craft leaped forward, trailing a spume of white froth in its wake. Janek settled comfortably into the synthetic leather seat, snapping the safety belt around his waist as he powered the boat up to maximum speed. Next to him, Cade was checking the SPAS’s loads, cocking the weapon in readiness.
The powerboat trailing Culver’s craft maintained its distance. Looking beyond the pair of vessels, Cade saw the cutoff point approaching. Once beyond the natural spit of land jutting out from the coast, they would be in the open water of Gardiners Bay. The ideal place to make a hit.