Liquid Cool (Liquid Cool, Book 1)

by Austin Dragon

  I had seen the light switch when I shot off the padlock to the room and flipped it on. There was Red, standing in the doorway, with his weapon hanging down to the floor. He was in silhouette, but by his labored breathing, I knew his head wound was bad—very bad. He dropped his electric rifle to the ground, and that's when I had an urge to cover, not the kid's eyes, but my own. I didn't do blood and guts; I tended to pass out from that sort of thing.

  Red Rabbit reached for his mask with his metallic arms and just...ripped it off. I stared at it for a moment, not knowing what the hell I was seeing. The silhouette was a head, but the sight of it showed the top part of a robot head and the bottom half a scrunched up human head with eyes, nose, and mouth. There was no way my shotgun had done that. There was a spark—my shotgun had done that. Red was a retard with a mechanically-augmented head.

  He jumped at me and grabbed my neck with his cybernetic arms. Instinct would have made me drop the shotgun, but I ignored instinct. It was even worse than I could imagine. His deformed head wasn't augmented by machine. His brain was part machine, and he stared at me with his freakish face and the snarl of his tiny, deformed mouth. He wanted to choke me, but all his hands did was hold my neck. I was sure the message from his brain was to crush my neck like an empty plastic cup, but the six-inch hole in the machine part of his brain-head made that impossible.

  I kicked him, and he fell over like a mannequin. Lying on the ground with his arms flailing around, his freakish face was disoriented. It was pointless to question him. Red wasn't there anymore. I could tell he didn't recognize me. He didn't know who he was or where he was. He was agitated and panicking at the same time. Even if he was put together, there was no way the police, Feds, Interpol, or anyone else would ever let me near him again. I did all I could do. I took his mobile from his jacket.

  "Lutty," I said.

  "Yes?"

  "Let's go see your Mom." I reached out to her, and she held my hand.

  We left Red there on the ground as his hysterical head-jerking and hand and leg movements became more violent with every second. He kept yelling, but not at us. His body was unplugged from reality and didn't know what else to do.

  Chapter 49

  Carol and Lutty

  ALL THAT MADNESS: FROM Mrs. Easy Chair Charlie to Mad Heights to Run-Time's to Police One to here. I learned that I was entirely too good at the violence thing. I had surprised myself. I never got to have my nap in my fluffy white sleep clothes after my super-shower. I needed a vacation because my new detective life was absolutely no joke. I also realized that I was probably not going to get a dime in cash for my time and multiple attempts on my life. How stupid was that? I had been detective, who had himself as the client—a fool.

  But there I was holding the hand of a missing little girl, exiting the bowels of some criminal den. It was surreal—dozens of police cruisers in the air, Metro and Feds, but much more than that was the media. They were swarming around us—on the ground, hovering right above us via jetpack, or hanging out of their hovervans for wide-angle filming. You would've thought I was a rock star by all the attention.

  I instinctively shielded the girl from them. She wanted nothing to do with them, and we both ignored their barrage of questions. I kept my focus on leading her through the media gauntlet to get her to my awaiting vehicle if we could even get there. I decided it was better to keep walking away from them; the direction and destination were irrelevant.

  As if on cue, our prayers were answered; police officers descended from the sky by jetpack and created a circle around us. I recognized Officers Break and Caps immediately among them and couldn't help but smile.

  "They're going to shield us, so we can get to your Mom," I said to Lutty. The girl looked up at them and smiled, too.

  But the media were not the only ghouls waiting for me. Behind them was all of the law enforcement brass. They stood there, sullen, and a few were glaring at me. I had embarrassed them, and I knew I had made enemies for life. But so what? The bastards were going to let the little girl die because of their own arbitrary rules on what should and should not be done in the cosmos of life. It's never okay for the bad to get off scot-free and allow an innocent to die in the ditch, in my book.

  With our police escort, I could watch the law enforcement higher-ups. The rain started again, and my new enemies melted into the dark downpour, but I'd be crossing paths with them again.

  Officer Break gestured to an overhead police cruiser, and the hovercar descended. "Why don't we get away from the rain and reporters and get moving on the family reunion," Officer Break said. "What do you think?" he asked Lutty.

  She nodded. "I want my Mom."

  The cruiser landed, and the police pushed the pack of reporters away, who were merciless in their desperation for us to answer their questions.

  "Mr. Cruz, do you think this child kidnapping case will make you the leading detective in the city?"

  I could feel every employee of the Office of the City Clerk watching my response carefully, but that aside, I would not be goaded into a response.

  I kept my mouth shut and climbed into the cruiser after Lutty. Officer Break closed the door, and he and his partner got into the tertiary seats in the back.

  Officer Caps looked at me. "Don't get used to it," he said. "That could, of course, mean a few things when it comes to you."

  Lutty was now looking at me funny.

  "Back when I was your age, I was an intern at Metro Police. I went on ride-alongs and rode in a police cruiser a few times," I said to her.

  "Ever arrested for real?" she asked me with an askance look.

  "No way. That's for criminals."

  "Okay." She was satisfied.

  The policemen uttered none of the wisecracks that I'm sure was on the tips of their tongues.

  "What about that Rabbit man?" she asked with a look of fear.

  "He's done for, and he'll never come at you or your Mom again," I said and leaned forward to her. "What did he think you did?"

  "I ran ahead of my Mom down Alien Alley, and he thought I saw him doing something bad. But I didn't. I didn't see him, then he attacked us."

  "I know you didn't see him doing anything bad. As long as you didn't tell him what you saw, it's all over now. No one will bother you again with it. Isn't that right, officers?"

  I leaned back and watched my Ebony and Ivory "friends" squirm in their seats.

  "That's right. No one will bother you about it ever again," Officer Break answered reluctantly.

  "Your Mom will be very proud of how brave you were against that bad Rabbit man. I'll tell her all about it and how courageous you were when I rescued you. You know what courageous means?"

  She nodded.

  "That was you."

  "And when Mr. Cruz stays behind to tell your Mom how courageous you were when he rescued you, we're going to be there, standing right beside him. He's a very popular detective, and there are so many people who want to talk with him. We're going to make sure he gets to see them all," said Officer Break.

  The officers grinned at me.

  This was exactly the situation grown men who purported to be cool avoided at all costs. We arrived at the apartment tower of Carol Num, and if I thought the media reception at Red's hideout was bad, this was like tenfold the rock star-like gathering. The cruiser set down right in front of the main entrance where Carol stood—I saw the eager anticipation in her face; her eyes were already tearing up. Run-Time was on one side and there, yes, the Mayor of Metropolis, himself, on the other.

  Lutty couldn't wait to get out of the police cruiser, and as soon as it popped open, she bolted from her seat into her mother's outstretched arms.

  It was one of those Hallmark card pictures you always thought was fake—staged by actors, but here was a real one, right in front of me and everyone else on the planet who would see it. The media madness was directed at the mother and daughter, but even they had the smarts to know you don't interrupt a life moment, like this one. Carol's
arms were wrapped around her daughter's shoulders, and the daughter had her arms wrapped around her mother's waist. Both were balls of weeping energy.

  I stood there as quietly as I could, with Officers Break and Caps standing next to me, and the other two officers in the cruiser behind us. Who would break the dignity of this beautiful moment? Even the rain had the decency to stop.

  "Come on over here, Mr. Cruz," the Mayor said, his hand beckoning.

  There were moments in a person's life when time really froze. I didn't know what disturbed me more, the fact that the Mayor of the city knew exactly who I was and by name or that seemingly millions of camera crews turned to focus their attention to me in unison. My life, as the saying goes, was over as I knew it.

  I felt a slight nudge to my back—it was Officer Break—and I slowly trudged over to the mother and daughter. Carol opened her weepy eyes to notice me and she smiled. Lutty lifted her head from her mother's chest to look at me too. They pulled me in, and there I was, locked in their embrace. Exactly what I didn't want to happen happened, as the emotions got me. Now, I was fighting my own facial muscles to keep from bawling like a little baby. The war of the tears was over and flowed down my face.

  The media ate up the images.

  Of course, the Mayor stepped to us and placed his hand on my shoulder. Why my shoulder? Why not the mother? Unhand me, man, and be off with you, I said to myself. This was Carol's and Lutty's moment. No one and no force could spoil it. The moment was theirs; I was just along for the ride.

  Chapter 50

  Deputy Doohickey

  MAYOR LIKEGATE HAD been Metropolis' mayor for five years and had just started his second term. The typical slickster-in-a-suit—black hair, clean-shaven—but he seemed popular. I didn't know politics, care about it, or had any intention of caring about it ever, like most Metropolitans. But I recognized power, and the Mayor was every bit a power-player like any megacorp CEO.

  I found myself being posed by his staff as he shook my hand for photos and stood next to me as Carol hugged me for photos. Now, we had entered the silly season. Carol was as uncomfortable by the whole thing as I was, but just like me, she went with it. Thank God for Run-Time, because after a few minutes, his people came in and whisked Carol and daughter away. Media tried to follow them, but Let It Ride security was already in place and stopped the reporters and their camera crews in their tracks.

  The Mayor was in front of me, again, with his entourage of staffers and aides.

  "Mr. Cruz, you've done the great city of Metropolis a great service by finding that little girl. The city won't forget what you did," he said to me as he shook my hand again.

  Thank goodness politicians had a short attention span. The Mayor and his entourage were off, into their government hoverlimos and in the sky in mere minutes. The media was following his lead and scattered. Both parties got what they wanted—photos and video footage.

  I looked around and realized all the police were already gone, even my "friends" Ebony and Ivory. Run-Time walked up to me, smiling, with another man following. Run-Time gave me a long handshake.

  "You did it," he said, smiling.

  "I did."

  Run-Time kept nodding his head. "This is Mr. Frame. He's one of the Mayor's deputies. You two should get to know each other."

  The man stepped forward and shook my hand, too. For a slim man, he had the grip of a Mexican wrestler.

  "Mr. Run-Time has been telling me about your progress. Looks like your Easy Chair Charlie case is all wrapped up."

  "Oh, you know about Easy Chair Charlie, too?" I said. "Why do you say that?"

  "Well, whether voluntarily or not, this Easy Chair Charlie and the criminal Red were working together in the Sweet Street shootout. The little girl saw them together, or the criminal Red alone, and he kidnapped her."

  "Wow, that is a very snazzy encapsulation of the case," I said.

  "I try to," the deputy said, smiling.

  "Sounds like your case is wrapped up neatly and solved."

  "My case?" the deputy asked. "What do you mean my case? Your case is solved."

  "My case isn't solved," I answered. "The case of the missing little girl is solved. The case of the Red Rabbit is solved. But my case of Easy Chair Charlie is not solved."

  "How do you mean?" the deputy asked. "The criminal kidnapped the girl, and he was the one who got Easy Chair Charlie shot by the police."

  "You know what my problem is right now?"

  "What, Mr. Cruz?"

  "Why does the deputy of the largest supercity in the world know with such granular detail about the case of some newbie detective consultant? How many detectives must there be in this city? How many kidnap victims must there be who are little girls? But you know mine so intimately. Why is that? Don't answer. The criminal Red didn't get Easy Chair Charlie to shoot up Sweet Street. Red murdered Easy Chair Charlie. He just found a unique way to do it, using cops. But Red wasn't acting on his own. He was hired. The thug who tried to kill me outside of my own place was hired. The thug who barged into my office to kill me was hired. Like I said, Mr. Frame, your case is solved. Mine is far from over."

  The deputy's face looked like I had gut-kicked him. Yeah, Deputy Doohickey, as I called him, was not happy, which meant his boss would not be happy, which meant this whole mess was tied to the Mayor's office, which meant that Run-Time knew much more, which meant some serious trouble was coming for me.

  Chapter 51

  Punch Judy

  I WENT INTO MY OFFICE and saw her interior design handy work had turned the reception-waiting area into a shrine...to me. There were pictures, already framed, hanging on the wall of me with Carol, me with both Carol and her daughter, and me with the Mayor. My first reaction was not a positive one, but then, I looked at PJ with an approving nod. I could see many a future client waiting for an appointment and staring at those pictures. I had to be a legit detective, they'd say. I was shaking hands with the mayor of the damn city, no less.

  "You're faster than hyper-space," I said, turning away from the pictures to glance back at her, smiling, behind her reception area.

  "I downloaded those pictures while you were still on the TV screen."

  "You and Phishy are something. In fact, get Phishy in here. I need more ammo."

  "More shootouts with bad guys."

  "You can say that. Tell Phishy I don't want replacement ammo. I want extra ammo."

  "And they say I have the criminal streak. Are you expecting more visitors?"

  I pointed to her newly hung pictures on the wall. "What do you think?"

  "Don't want you shooting our potential clients. You're going to have more clients than you can handle. Don't shoot any of them!"

  "I'm not going to shoot the clients, just the criminals. We haven't seen all the bad guys involved in this case, yet. Not by a long shot."

  "Good, because I need to get paid. Okay, I'll call Phishy."

  "That's what I need."

  I walked into my office after I pushed open the door. I closed it immediately. At the desk, PJ had all my messages in priority order. The ones that would be the quickest to solve first and, therefore, the quickest potential payment. But those were always the most boring and of no interest to me. As I scanned the printed message from her electronic notepad, I realized something, and touched one of the messages. The message I touched wasn't one message; it was a stack of messages, one under the other. I didn't have five-by-five rows of messages. I had five stacks of messages by five stacks of messages. Not twenty-five, but much, much more. This was insane. I'd need to hire someone else just to read all these messages.

  I got up from my desk, opened the door, and walked to PJ's desk. Her silly French-language punk music was playing and there she was sitting, with her feet on her desk, waiting for me. She stood up and handed me three folders. I opened one and inside were more messages, and it was only one folder! I couldn't believe it.

  "They all came in within the last hour," she said.

  I shook
my head.

  "Don't answer the phone anymore for today. Let the voice recorder catch them all."

  "The one we have doesn't have the disk space."

  "Go out and buy one that we need then. Then come back here," I said and threw the folder back on her desk, "and figure out a better way to prioritize."

  "That's what I did."

  "Do you want me sitting at my desk going through messages all day or out solving cases? Which do want?"

  "You need to hire another secretary."

  "No."

  "A part-time assistant."

  "No. You are my only employee. In fact, you're making more than me."

  "Cruz, you're a famous detective, now. I can't man the front area, answer the phones, and prioritize messages. Impossible. How am I supposed to do all that? I need help!"

  I covered my ears, so I couldn't hear her voice anymore and said, "Call Phishy. Ammo." Then I walked back into my office. "Front of the office is your job. That's why I hired you. Detective work is my job. Your job allows me to do my job or no money."

  I reflexively dove for the floor as the hovercar outside my window beamed a bright light into my office.

  Chapter 52

  Phishy

  IT COULD HAVE BEEN reporters, but I was taking no chances. I stood at my desk, loading the bullets into my magazine. PJ was sitting on one of my inner office lounge area chairs, loading up her two shotguns.

  I may have had guns now and had a natural aptitude for shooting, but I was no gun person. And PJ was an ex-posh gang member, so she definitely wasn't a gun person. You didn't take good ammo out of your weapon and then load up new ammo, just because new boxes of ammo came in. But we did it anyway, because it's "fresh" ammo straight out of the box, right?

  Phishy glanced back and forth between us as if he were watching a tennis match.