The Last Spartan 2: DJ's Mission

by A. E. McCullough

  One of the bouncers stepped slightly forward from the rest and pointed his stun baton at him. “Okay hunter, there is no reason for this to get ugly. Just lay down your weapons and come along quietly.”

  Still hoping to diffuse situation, DJ raised his hands but with the flick of his eye, he had his armor lock onto the position of all twelve bouncers just in case he lost track of one during the impending fight.

  “What seems to be the problem dwarf…other than you being too short to reach a light switch?”

  The head bouncer grimaced at the insult but held his ground. Lowering his tone and furrowing his brow Pridgen demanded, “Your weapons. I won’t ask again.”

  DJ ignored the bouncer and calmly ran down the list of non-lethal weapons available to him on his armor’s HUD. He had five capture nets, ten tranquilizer darts, ten bean bag rounds and pepper spray on his left gauntlet. While his right gauntlet had an electroshock emitter and three shots of sticky foam that would completely incapacitate an individual.

  The longer DJ wore this armor, the more he saw Jay’s hand in tweaking out this particular suit of CSA. The retired Master Chief was a whiz at electronics and mechanical contraptions.

  Pridgen was flustered. Never had anyone ignored him, especially when surrounded. Either they gave up or tried to make a break for it but never just stand there and ignore him. He twirled his baton in circles expertly both to bolster his courage and to buy some time. Unsure of exactly what to do, he called out once more. “Last warning hunter…lay down your weapons and come along.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to ask me again. What’s the matter Oompa-Loompa? Can’t count?”

  Not only did Pridgen see ‘red’ but so did the other Jovians. Being called a dwarf was something that they took in stride. It was also normal to be the butt of short jokes, all Jovians got used to it. But being compared to the characters from the classic film of ‘Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory’ was too much.

  With a yell, all twelve bouncers attacked.

  DJ had hoped for such a reaction. He’d seen Iaido use a similar strategy too many times not to learn its worth. Granted it was twelve on one but now they were angry and would easily get in each other’s way. Waiting until almost the last second, DJ jumped straight up and engaged his boot jets. These weren’t actually strong enough to let him fly but he could hover for several seconds which would give him a wonderful angle for his attacks.

  His initial two targets were the ones closest to the exit. If things went south, he wanted an unimpeded egress. With a flick of his eye and a simple thought, he selected his weapons and fired. His first shot was a capture net. Which is a simple and yet elegant weapon. Basically it is a simple net of titanium alloy thread with weights on the ends designed to entangle an opponent. These also had a small electroshock charge built in to render captured marks unconscious. For his second attack, he chose the electroshock emitter which produced a fair sized lightning bolt trailing out of his right gauntlet to strike the hapless Jovian bouncer.

  With two down in the first few seconds of the fight, the remaining bouncers paused and looked up. Unfortunately for them, DJ was on his way down. Using the increased acceleration of the fall, DJ came down swinging. It was utter chaos. Only his armor’s AI let him keep track of the different targets. He swung and fired non-lethal weapons at anyone stupid enough to attack him. And just like in any bar fight, people who don’t know what’s going on hop in on one side or the other. Within moments, the fight was no longer contained to just DJ and the bouncers but encompassed the whole bar and threatened to spill over into the casino and dance floor.

  For a brief second, no one was attacking him which gave DJ a chance to survey the situation and it didn’t look good. It was only a matter of time before someone pulled a weapon and the killing would commence. This was threatening to become a full fledge riot and he knew he had to do something. He remembered Iaido saying something about a mob only needing a spark to turn into a riot. Which gave him an idea.

  Checking his power levels, DJ fired his jump jets again and leapt into the air. This time he forcefully turned a full circle while firing off his flamethrower which lit up the entire room. Pushing his external speakers to max volume he yelled, “ENOUGH!”

  The super loud sound reverberated through the bar, mixed with the simple but effective pyrotechnics display, caused everyone to pause.

  “This does not concern you!”

  As his short hover ended, DJ boldly walked toward the biggest patron who had joined in the fight. He kept his volume loud as he pointed his left gauntlet, the one everyone had seen the fire come from, at the bruiser.

  “This is a matter covered by intergalactic law and the treaty of 2201 concerning a simple bounty pickup. Anyone who interferes is subject to immediate capture and incarceration. And I’m authorized to use any force, up to and including lethal force, to affect my capture. Do we understand each other?”

  The patron nodded his head.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you? Are we good?”

  Raising his hands, the brute took a step back. “Not my problem, dude.”

  DJ turned and looked at the rest of the patrons. Most wouldn’t even look at him as they miraculously had somewhere better to be. Ignoring the rest, DJ moved toward the downed bouncers when an alarm went off on his HUD. A weapon had cleared its holster somewhere behind him. Diving forward, he tried to do one of the forward rolls he’d seen Iaido use time and time again. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as skilled or graceful as the deadly Myrmidon and just managed to kind of barrel roll to the side.

  Drawing both of his Graver Mk7s, he scanned the area toward the bar for the threat and didn’t find one. He did find Jagger Jax holding a stun baton standing over top the unconscious bar patron he’d shamed into speaking. Replacing both of his weapons, DJ moved back to stand next to the ex-thief. “Thanks.”

  Jagger Jax just smiled as he placed the baton on the back of the unconscious patron’s neck and triggered another jolt. “Don’t mention it.” Jax flicked the dropped Graver Mk3 to the side with the stun baton. “He was going to shoot you in the back. I don’t like cowards.”

  DJ leaned down and rolled the patron onto his back. Scanning his face, he contacted Aeolus.

  Seconds later, his ship’s AI responded. “How may I be of service sir?”

  “I’m sending you an image. Run him for warrants.”

  “Right away sir.” There was a brief pause before the Aetós’s AI responded. “That is one Harry Fisher. He has quite a rap sheet if I might say sir. Mostly petty larceny and burglaries but he does have three counts of arson on his record. He is currently out on bail awaiting trial on Terra concerning a string of robberies where a homeowner was killed during one of the crimes.”

  “Any bounties?”

  “Aye sir. If he is here on Titan, then he has officially jumped bail and the credits placed for bail are now considered a bounty.”

  DJ nodded. “How much?”

  “Twenty-five thousand credits, sir.”

  DJ rolled the subject onto his stomach and bound his hands with cuffs. “He’s wanted for robbery and murder back on Earth.”

  Jax nodded. “Which explains why he was willing to take a shot at you, he thought you were here for him.”

  “I wasn’t but I won’t pass up the credits.” The beginnings of an idea popped into his head and DJ looked up at the ex-thief. “You looking for work?”

  Jax shrugged. “Could be, I don’t have anywhere better to be at the moment.”

  Before DJ could respond, Jagger Jax began to shake and quiver before falling to the side, stunned. Pridgen stepped up and put one foot on the unconscious ex-thief. He stood there with a stun baton in each hand and grinned. “This isn’t over between us.”

  “Yes it is.” DJ calmly raised his right gauntlet and fired a sticky foam round which struck the dwarf bouncer center mass.

  Sticky foam was an ingenious device. Technically it is considered an incapacitate form of less-t
han-lethal force. It consists of various tacky and/or tenacious materials carried in a compressed form until fired with a propellant. Once the content of the shell is exposed to oxygen, it expands to nearly five-hundred times its compressed size, thoroughly entangling whatever it hit. Ten seconds later the foam dries to form a hard cocoon-like shell. The downside to the sticky foam is that once entangled, that subject is stuck in the material until a solvent is used to dissolve the foam.

  DJ stared down at the ensnared Jovian. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone could you? Stupid dwarf.” Looking around he spied the two exotic dancers. “Lashandra, you will lead me to Mocha’s office.” Seeing her hesitate he added, “Now!”

  Picking up the unconscious form of Jagger Jax, DJ threw him over his shoulder. Then he grabbed the bound forms of Pridgen and the criminal Fisher and followed the retreating dancers into the dark corridors of the casino.

  * * * * *

  As Jennifer and Ryan stepped out from the corner of the bar, she turned to her companion and asked, “Tell me you got that. Right?”

  Ryan’s grin spoke volumes but she wasn’t comforted until he said it. “I got it, I got it.”

  “Oh my god. How’d we get so lucky again?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Good karma?”

  “Whatever. I’m not gonna knock it. We need to get back to the hotel and do some research and editing before we transmit this.”

  “Whatever you say, I’m just along for the ride.”

  Jennifer knew that wasn’t true. They might have been thrown together by chance but they made a formidable team. After all, it had been Ryan’s idea to check out the casino Mocha Delights tonight. She had wanted to sneak into the factory and do some snooping. But one thing she had learned over the last eight months about her laid back holo-recorder, when Ryan suggests something….listen. It always seemed to pan out.

  Grabbing his arm, she headed towards the door. “Come on. We have work to do.”

  Chapter 8

  Councilor Carpenter silently adjusted her position in the high backed chair as she continued to pore over the files provided to her by the Sheriff. The one thing she could say about their record keeper, they tracked everything. However, they were the least organized files she had ever seen. Glancing down at her chronometer, she realized that she had been at this for over three hours. No wonder her back and neck ached.

  Looking briefly over her shoulder, she was comforted by the twin forms in coal black SWAT armor standing right behind her. Only occasionally did either of the two police officers move but then, she trusted that they knew their jobs which allowed her to concentrate on hers. Turning her attention back to the files, she kept scrolling and reading. Sooner or later she would find a discrepancy. There was always a discrepancy.

  For the SWAT officers, this was just another stake out. By wearing their TAC armor, they had ready access to food and drink. Nothing tasty but good enough for long hours of guard duty and the built in waste facilities meant they didn’t have to worry about those awkward call of nature moments either. In addition, the tac-net served as a closed circuit communications that was virtually unbreakable. Right now, the two SWAT officers were using the advanced technology of their suits to play chess.

  Moving his black knight into position Spike said, “Check.”

  “Dammit Spike, why’d you do that?”

  “Because you left your king exposed…again.”

  Sponge Bob scanned his options. None were any better than the rest so he did what he always did when confused or confronted with a problem, he attacked. Moving his bishop, he took his friend’s knight. “That’s mine now.”

  Spike couldn’t contain his grin even though his buddy couldn’t see it. “Checkmate,” he said as he slid his queen over to take the offending bishop.

  Whatever expletives Sponge Bob was going to use was forgotten as Sheriff Kassinger entered the small office he had set aside for their use. The subtle shift in their stances was enough to signal to the Councilor that they were on guard and on alert. Teana Carpenter, High Council Member and retired FSA agent, stood slowly and stretched. “Well, it seems that everything is in order.”

  Sheriff Kassinger grinned and sat his considerable frame in a nearby chair. “Of course, we are very meticulous in our records. One never knows what the government will be looking for during an audit.”

  “That is a good policy to have. I will inform the President that everything is in order, however you realize that we must tour and inspect the facility. To do any less would be a huge breach of protocol.”

  “Of course, I expected no less. I’ve made arraignments for a shuttle to pick you up tomorrow morning at eight-hundred hours, local time.”

  “Until then.” Councilor Carpenter nodded her head good-bye and turned to leave. Without a word, she knew her ever present bodyguards would be one step behind her. Once in the hall, she switched on her sub-vocal mic and earpiece; both were cybernetic implants that would allow her to discreetly communicate with the SWAT officers. “What is your take on the Sherriff?”

  Spike answered first. “He’s hiding something.”

  Sponge Bob snorted and snapped, “Ya think!”

  “You’re right, he is hiding something. He’s every bit a politician as I am and politicians are always hiding something.”

  Sponge Bob countered. “I don’t think he would agree with that accusation. He’s a veteran.”

  Even as they climbed into the waiting skimmer, Councilor Carpenter replied. “He might not agree but that doesn’t make it any less true. I make a living reading people and from what I see, whatever he is hiding it’s a doozy.”

  Spike tended to agree with her. He’d worked his way up to SWAT by walking the streets of New Atlanta as a beat cop. His instincts screamed that the Sheriff was lying about something. But one question outweighed all others, how would it affect the Coalition?

  * * * * *

  As the two Coalition officers waited in the headquarters of the Saturn Sheriffs, Commander Cline slowly moved around the office and took in the sights.

  The office itself was impressive. It occupied the whole back section of the building with its own bathroom and emergency exit. The two side walls were lined with old fashion filing cabinets over which hung numerous plaques, pictures and awards. The wall in front of the desk was made of half-inch thick glass. The desk was oak and neatly arranged. But it was the back wall, the one anyone would be facing when sitting in the office talking to the Sheriff which captivated his attention.

  Cmdr.. Cline moved behind the desk to get a better look as one of the two deputies which acted as his escort moved closer to flank him but didn’t stop him. This wall was a collection of military awards, medals, pictures and memorabilia. He only glanced at the Coalition awards; Silver Star, Purple Heart and numerous other pins denoting what segments of the war he’d served in.

  No, Cmdr.. Cline’s attention was on the collection of Nazi Germany souvenirs.

  There were knives, medals, one dented Nazi helmet and a neatly pressed black SS uniform. All these rare antiquities were protected from the elements behind glass. But what really intrigued him was that all the memorabilia was placed strategically around two pictures. The first was an old black and white photograph in a worn wooden frame. If it was an original, Cline guessed to be over two-hundred years old, probably closer to two-fifty. The second was a war poster. It was slightly faded but he could still make out the colors. Two soldiers, one in green with a helmet and the other in brown with a hat, both were carrying the Nazi flag; solid red with a white circle in the center with a black swastika in the middle. Over top written in German was: ‘EIN KAMPF, EIN SIEG!’

  “One struggle, one victory,” said a deep voice from behind him.

  Cmdr.. Cline slowly turned around to find Sheriff Kassinger standing there. Even though he’d heard a lot about the man, this was their first meeting and the two warriors immediately sized each other up.

  The Sheriff was probably a couple inches shorter th
an the Coalition Commander but outweighed him by a good hundred pounds. They both had dark hair greying at the temples but where Cline was clean shaven, Kassinger had day old growth of a beard and a thick bushy mustache. The black uniform of the Saturn Sheriff with its red highlights and silver six pointed star looked spectacular on the Sheriff and it was tailored perfect to fit his sizable frame. Uniforms never seemed to fit Cmdr.. Cline right; either they were too baggy or too tight.

  As Sheriff Kassinger moved around his desk, Cline noticed that he walked with a very pronounced limp, evidently a holdover from his time in the Fleet.

  Alex moved back around the desk to his own chair. “Sheriff Kassinger it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard a lot about you.”

  “Captain Cline, I mean Commander. I’m sorry about that. It seems that our dossiers of Coalition officers must be outdated.”

  He didn’t believe a single word of that. The Sheriff had intentionally called him by his former rank to try and rile him up. Alex wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

  “It’s okay. I’ll get my rank back eventually. You aren’t the first to call me by my old rank, only the most recent.”

  Kassinger smiled at his remark but Alex noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes. As a matter of fact, he had a mental image of a cat about to pounce on its dinner when the Sheriff smiled. It wasn’t comforting.

  The Sheriff looked around the room. “I was told that you had a young lieutenant with you.”

  Cmdr. Cline pointed to the far side of the Sheriff’s headquarters. They could just barely see the blonde hair of Lt. Evans as she was surrounded by about five deputies. She was smiling and laughing as if someone had just told a joke. Even as they watched, one of the deputies moved in close and, not too subtly, groped her buttocks. Instead of getting mad, Virginia playfully slapped his hand away and stepped to the side.