“If you don't mind, English only.”
Shen blinked, then looked to Kevin. “You have just saved the leader of the Tongs of San Francisco. We are not going to poison you.”
“Never said you were,” the spy answered. “But no offense, from what I've heard of this town, I'd much rather not take the chance.”
Kevin's Asian counterpart—this guy had “spymaster” written all over him—gave a small nod. “How long have you been in the city?”
Kevin glanced at his watch. “Maybe three hours.”
“You learn quickly.” Shen Lo kept eye contact with Kevin the entire time. “Tell me, do you know what you did when you arrived?”
“Well, Children of Thanatos, death cult, guy mentioned a St. Jack and Mercy killings.”
“And when you talked to the last one; what he called you?”
“Yes...Angel-Servant.” Kevin half-frowned. “Still wondering what the hell that's about.”
“They worship the Angel of Death. They think you are a servant to Azrael.”
Kevin closed his eyes, and then rubbed his temple. “Oh great.”
“You see,” Shen told him, “that is why you should trust me.”
Kevin stopped thinking for a moment, and then looked at Shen with enough skepticism for the San Franciscan to even doubt himself. “Excuse me?”
Shen grinned. “The Children of Thanatos are protective of those they consider Angel-Servants. They patrol the area surrounding the former University of San Francisco campus because that is where the Assassin's Guild used to be...where the last Assassin still resides.”
Kevin blinked. “There's one left? I only know a little bit about the entire assault. The local businesses had taken over the city, and not the pleasant ones.”
Lo nodded. “That is true. The Corporations had come to the conclusion that there was nothing to be gained from San Francisco in the long term. They would suck it dry and leave. For some reasons, they thought the Assassins were going to make a move on them, and they co-opted Mercenaries into joining in a raid on the Guild Hall. Somehow, Kyle Elsen survived.”
“Elsen? Can't say I’ve heard the name.”
Lo's black eye twinkled while the brown one stayed out of the light. “Hope you avoid it.”
“Okay, so the death cultists are protective of this guy, and they even patrol where he hangs his hat. So...what...?” Kevin raised a brow. The conversation between Shen Lo and the old man had taken far longer than just a quick description of what happened. And Lo had talked too long for a quick question here and there. “Wait a second. If the Children protect their 'Angel-Servants,' and they think that I'm one of them, then...”
“Then the Tongs graciously invite you, Kevin Anderson, to reside in Chinatown.”
*
Kevin picked out a place where Chinatown met the border of Nob Hill. The apartment building was at the most seven stories, and he made certain to be on the top floor.
He looked down the narrow hallway and frowned. It was bare and barren, and far too narrow for his taste. “I want the floor.”
Shen Lo looked at Kevin like he had five heads. “The entire floor? Why?”
The spy looked right at him. “I'm going to rig enough booby traps to take out anyone dumb enough to come after me. You don't want anyone on the same floor with me if a firefight breaks out.”
Lo sighed, and nodded. “As you wish.”
“If it were as I wish, I'd be...” He closed his eyes. He was getting tired. “Listen, I'm going to need a shopping list of things to make my booby traps.”
“Make your own? What do you intend to make?”
“Motion sensors, Tesla coils, Claymore mines, a laser grid, maybe an EMP generator, a pain field, and I'm going to turn all of the light bulbs up here into explosive devices.” Kevin smiled. “I'm not just another pretty face. And I damn well expect my degree in engineering to come in handy. Now, where's the room?”
Shen pointed, and Kevin let him go first. The apartment was a loft. It looked like a studio apartment, with an open, linear design. The door opened up into a sparsely furnished living room, with an armchair and a couch. To the right was a small dining room table and a kitchen space slightly closed off by the counter.
“We can have more furnishings brought in, if you so desire.”
Kevin smiled and shook his head. “What am I going to do? Have people over for dinner and walk them through the booby traps? Besides, I don't know anyone here.”
Shen's tone was dry. “Perhaps you should work on that.”
Kevin craned his neck over to look at him. “You're nuts, right? After everything you've told me about this city? After the things I've heard about this city? Be honest, do I look that stupid?” He sighed. “I'm going to take a wild guess there's something you're not telling me.”
"Well, we are having a slight problem with the Brokers moving into the area. To start with, they've hired Mercenaries…"
He sighed. “I'll see what I can do. Where do they hang out?"
Chapter 18: Things Fall Apart
April 20th, 2093
“My name is Kevin Anderson,” the bland looking man told the mercenary. “And this is going to be the worst day of your life.”
After a once over, the mercenary laughed. “Yeah, sure, pal. Go play with someone else.”
Kevin raised a brow and gave a little smile. “You have ten seconds to change your attitude, my friend; otherwise you're going to be in a world of serious trouble.”
He slid off the bar stool and undid his holster strap. “Listen, pal, you must not be from around here. I'm a Merc, I don't have to be bothered with scum like you.”
The smile became lopsided. “You're right, I just arrived. However, here's what's going to happen. You're going to leave Chinatown, stop working for the local drug Brokers, and give them a message to stop moving into Chinatown.” He paused, then said, “Oh, I'm sorry, I misspoke. You weren't going to tell them the message. You're going to be the message.”
Of the six other Mercenaries in the bar, Kevin had approached the biggest, the most heavily armed, and the only one with body armor. “Wow, did you pick the wrong target.”
He shook his head. “No. You see, I know you. I know how you've terrorized this area for some time now. And there's a little girl near Nob Hill who swears that you raped her.” The man's eyes went flat and his voice went just as cold. “You're the perfect target.”
The mercenary drew down on him. Kevin sidestepped left, knocked the gun aside and drove it against the mercenary's chest, then twisted it out of his hand. Kevin hammered the butt of the gun into the merc's nose, shattering it. He raised a gun to chest level, and then emptied the magazine into the merc's armored chest plate, knocking him back.
A woman merc grabbed her weapon, but Kevin hurled the empty gun like a throwing star, and the butt hit her right between the eyes. He twisted and rammed a palm into the first merc's forehead, taking out his equilibrium. The guy turned, slapping both hands onto the bar top to keep his balance.
Kevin grabbed a stein of beer from the nearest table and threw it in on the merc's suit, hoping to burn out any Taser. Kevin swung the stein down for a head shot, but the merc blocked it, grabbed his wrist, then slammed him up against the bar, kneeing him once in the kidneys.
Kevin slipped a foot behind the mercenary, around the Achilles tendon on his base leg, and pulled. The mercenary used his hold of Kevin to keep from falling. But Kevin pivoted around and out of the grip, and drove an elbow into his face, followed by a hammer-blow and a series of punches delivered to his underbelly. The mercenary slammed down a blow to the side of Kevin's head.
Kevin spun across the room, the mercenary in hot pursuit. He grabbed a chair for support…then spun back, chair in hand, and smashed it across the mercenary's chest. He pulled back with the remaining chair legs, holding them like twin batons.
The mercenary paused, and then tapped his control gauntlets, ejecting razor sharp blades from the gloves. He slashed at Kevin with
both sets of blades, and Kevin fell back, literally on his ass, and then slammed both feet into the mercenary's knees.
Kevin rolled out of the way as the other fell forward, and the ex-spy came to his feet. He spotted another mercenary pulling a gun, and Kevin hurled a chair leg into his throat. Kevin leapt to the side, rolling to his feet by the bar. At which point, the bartender pulled a shotgun.
Kevin tilted out of the line of fire, caught the stock of the gun with his right hand, pushing it off line and pulled it out of the bartender's grasp. He leapt over the bar, slamming the bartender down with a boot.
He came back with the shotgun in front of him. “Anyone else want to bother me today?”
The remaining four mercenaries had their guns drawn and ready, but they hadn't fired.
“Kill him!” the first ordered them.
“Whoever fires first,” Kevin called out, “I can tell you this: at least two more of you are going to die before this is over. Either you can all leave, losing a paycheck and a scummy CO, or you can take your chances on who gets to die next."
There was a brief silence as civilians fled the bar. Kevin sighed loudly. “How about we try it this way,” he shouted. He dropped behind the bar and fired twice from the shotgun, blasting at the alcoholic inventory. There was a flick from a Zippo lighter, and the flames erupted from behind the bar. At which point, everyone fled.
Kevin looked down at the disabled mercenary. “Hi, there,” he said, smiling above him as the flames framed him like a devil. He leveled the shotgun at the shattered knees and fired.
“By the way,” Kevin muttered, “I really like your suit.”
Kevin had dragged the last Merc outside, kicking him off the curb and into the street. He looked around the crowd that had gathered to stare at the flames.
Oh well, I might as well make introductions. He brandished the shotgun, just to make sure no one got any ideas. “I’m Kevin Anderson. I'm new. The people of Chinatown have seen fit to adopt me, so here’s how things are gonna be. Chinatown is open to any and all comers, as long as you play nice, and don't screw around. You cause trouble, you make a scene, then I don’t give a damn who you are, who your friends are, or what resources you have, I will hunt you down, I will find you, and then I will feed you to the Children of Thanatos. If you are Mercenary, Broker, Dealer, I don’t care. You will die. If you have any complaints, I suggest that you lodge them with someone who cares. At the moment, I should note that I'm the one who's very cranky and very armed.”
He smiled and raised his other hand, holding an incendiary grenade that had up until a few moments ago been on the belt of one of their associates. One the Mercenaries knew it had enough power to vaporize the surrounding six meters. The pin was out of the grenade and dangling from his pinky. “You're dismissed. I request you all drop your weapons on the ground and walk away. Do it now.”
Five minutes later there was a small pile of weapons on the street, alone with Anderson.
He smiled. “I think I'm going to like this town.”
*
Major Antonio Rohaz smiled as he read the report, and then tapped his intercom. “Agatha, tell the Brokers we're pulling back from Chinatown until further notice.”
Rohaz sat back in his chair, sliding a cigar into his mouth and lighting it. Once it was good and truly lit, he smiled. He was starting to realize what his daughter saw in this man. He was certainly...innovative, and he was either cunning and fearless, or just plain insane. Certainly, this was someone he could use in the Mercenaries, but...
Do I really want someone with that big a death wish? Even if he doesn't have a death wish, he's not exactly the type to play well with others. And even if he were sane, would I really want to bring him in so soon after he was a target? And Mandy...trying to keep Mandy away from him would be like trying to pry molecules of the ocean away from each other with a crowbar. And once that happened… No, I think it's time to just let Kevin be Kevin.
Chapter 19: The Center Cannot Hold
April 21st, 2093
Kevin looked intensely at the circuit board, wondering what had gone wrong. “I think it's the grounding wire to the chassis. Could you hand me the forceps?” It appeared in his hand as he went back to work, plugging the wire in firmly. “That should do it.”
Shen Lo looked over the dining room table again with the various parts and tools. It looked like Anderson was assembling his own car battery. He said so.
“Technically, you're right,” Kevin replied. “This is a high-energy pulsar; a fancy car battery. However, it plugs into this.” He pointed, and then followed the wire down to a device on the floor. It looked like a tube with a metal base. “A mass accelerator. It's why I told you to call ahead. Remember when I said I'd be making claymore mines? Well, this is better.”
“Ah,” Shen said, and then paused. “What is it again?”
Kevin smiled and leaned back on his workbench. “Essentially, you put a projectile on the coil inside the accelerator. I take the energy from the pulsar, run it through a capacitor, and it discharges into the coil, and you get a high current pulse. It runs into both the coil and the metallic projectile, and it magnetizes both of them—and since magnets repulse each other, the projectile pushes off of the fixed coil, and takes flight. And figure the kinetic energy, the speed and power, goes up by a factor of nine every time you go up two thousand volts. Mine is set for five thousand. If it turns into something for continuous use, I'll need to replace the coil, but I can't imagine needing to defend the floor too many times before people get the hint.”
“Is that your only defense?” Shen asked.
Kevin shook his head. “Do you know how to explode a wire?”
Lo frowned thoughtfully. “Considering that you have the battery, I assume it has something to do with electricity?”
He nodded. “All it takes is dumping energy into the wire; again, from a capacitor. It can equal the blast from your standard high explosive. The velocity can be thousands of meters per second, and create high-speed microparticles and electrical currents in the megawatts in less than a second. You know what happens then?”
Lo cocked his head. “Isn't that what causes an electromagnetic pulse?”
The spy grinned. “You betcha. One good EMP and anyone with fancy electronics who tries to whack me won’t like it much. I've hooked up a lot of these systems to laser trip wires. I'm not even going to go into the laser microphone, pinhole cameras, that sort of thing.”
“Remind me not to put you in league with the Hacker's Union.”
Kevin blinked. “The what?”
Shen smiled. “Ah, that is one segment of the community that you have not been introduced to. They run San Francisco.”
The Exile stopped and looked over his shoulder at his Chinatown contact. “Funny, I didn't think that any one group ran San Francisco.”
Shen dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Not like a government, no, but the Hacker's Union runs the utilities, such as the power, what plumbing is available, etc. They could feasibly shut down the entire city. However, from what we can tell, they have some of the brightest minds in the world, and possibly technology to compete with the East Coast.”
Kevin rolled his eyes. “Wonderful. I can only imagine why they're here—probably one part privacy, two parts megalomania.”
Lo chuckled gently. “True. The leader, Omar Zephyr, seems intent on playing with the Corporation heads whenever he can. They have offices in the heart of Chinatown.”
The Exile sighed, shook his head, and turned back to the next project. “More politics. Joy. Now, did you come here to see me about something in particular?”
Shen cleared his throat. “I wanted to discuss your rather...dramatic...introduction to the world yesterday. The incident with the Mercenaries could have...unpleasant consequences.”
The Exile muttered under his breath. “Buddy, you don't know from unpleasant consequences.”
“You have deliberately gone out of your way to antagonize both the Broke
rs and the Mercenaries,” Shen told him, his voice low and soft, with a rising thread of anger. “If either one decided to launch a full assault on Chinatown, your precious Children of Thanatos will be no protection. What would you intend to do about that?”
“Well, you haven't finished my shopping list.” Kevin smiled. “Where's my hunting rifle?”
*
Kaye Wellering was a five-foot-two green-eyed redhead, and possibly the most dangerous human being in a city full of dangerous human beings.
Despite all images (most of them computer generated) and rumors (spread by her) to the contrary, she was the President of the Hacker's Union. When anyone outside the Union met with her, it was a lowly “secretary” acting as a gofer for the great and powerful Hacker President Omar Zephyr. So she never needed a bodyguard, and Chinatown was the most secure neighborhood that wasn't controlled by the Corporate Raiders.
Which is why it became annoying when the two thugs pulled knives on her.
Kaye narrowed her eyes at the muggers. Someone was going to be hurt by the end of this, and she was deciding who to hurt more when one of the two men fell over for no reason that she could tell. The second mugger blinked and watched as his friend tumbled over. He was frozen for a whole moment when a neat little hole appeared in his temple.
The sound of the two gunshots breaking the sonic barrier only reached Kaye's ears after both bodies hit the street.
Kaye Wellering blinked, looked up, and thought, What the Hell was that?
*
Kevin Anderson chambered another round into the hunting rifle and settled it down next to his book. The laser microphone he had constructed continued to slowly rotate, delivering all sounds to the ear bud in his right ear. It had been set for a two-kilometer radius, and acted as passive sonar.
Codename: Winterborn (The Last Survivors Book 1) Page 20