X-Squad Pawn City

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X-Squad Pawn City Page 5

by Hannibal Adofo


  “She looked hot before. Kind of scary, but still hot. But dressed like that, she looks amazing. Where is she going?”

  “Don’t know,” Gemma said. “But I don’t like it.”

  “I heard X-1 tell her not to dress like a wanted felon, so I guess she took him seriously,” Fizz said.

  “Where did she find that dress?” asked Switch.

  “On board. The executive planes are stocked with everything, including clothing for any occasion,” Gemma said. As the grandchild of the founder of the massive Lionheart Tech, she knew something about the lifestyles and rules of the wealthiest of people.

  Fizz looked to Gemma. “You never dress that way.”

  “And I’m not about to start now,” Gemma responded.

  “It’s more than that,” Switch told them. “Something weird is going on. Bishop asked me to boot up a cube with all the information I could find about the Lord Inferno army and their present location, a dome they call Inferno City. He refused to tell me why, and I am pretty sure he’s left the plane too. X-1 is keeping his mouth shut, but I know something is up.”

  “Okay, something is going on,” Gemma said. “The question is what?”

  “You think they decided to help Whistler?” Fizz asked.

  Switch nodded. “I don’t see any other reason why Bishop would want access to the information I gathered for X-1 about Inferno City.”

  “I don’t like Seven being out there by herself,” Gemma said. “She saved me back in the vault. I owe her.”

  “You’d like it even less if you knew how many men and guns Grieves has at his disposal,” Fizz said.

  “You thinking we should go help?” Switch asked.

  “You can. But Gemma stays with me.”

  They all turned from watching Seven to see X-1 standing there.

  “I can do what I want,” Gemma said.

  “No, you cannot.”

  “Well, I don’t want to leave Seven and Bishop on their own,” Switch said.

  “I distinctly recall saying you could leave,” X-1 replied.

  “I’m going too, then,” Fizz said.

  “If they are going, I’m going,” Gemma insisted.

  “That would be foolish for all of you,” X-1 said. “Seven went to bring Bishop back, and she will either be successful or she won’t. The three of you joining her will not make much of a difference. In fact, I’m sure it will make things worse.”

  “Why did Bishop leave?” Gemma asked.

  “Personal business that I believe he would rather keep to himself. All I will say is that he, the general, and the major have a history. A treacherous one at that.”

  “He wants to kill them?” Switch asked.

  “That would be my assumption.”

  “If Seven can’t convince him to return, we could help,” Gemma said.

  “Not likely.” X-1 looked at Fizz. “You seem to like her. Do you want her to join you on a suicide mission?”

  Switch was about to say something, but he stopped and closed his mouth. He felt X-1 may have a point after all.

  “You don’t seem to mind the two of us going,” Fizz said.

  “You are expendable,” X-1 said. “She is not.”

  “Thanks for clearing that up,” Fizz said.

  “Would you prefer that I lie?” X-1 asked as he looked directly at Gemma. “Do I need to restrain you until we leave?”

  “No,” Switch said. “We’re all staying. But can you delay leaving and at least give them a chance to make it back? We are practically fueled and Seven hasn’t found him yet. We need to give them a chance.”

  “Do we really?” X-1 asked. “If they want to die here, that is their choice.”

  “Could you do it anyway?” Gemma asked. “I’ll promise to cooperate, and what will staying a few extra minutes hurt?”

  X-1 considered her question for a moment. “They have exactly one hour. That is all.”

  The three of them considered arguing for more time, but instead all nodded in agreement. From what they knew of X-1 and the nameless in general, even a small compromise was a major victory.

  X-1 turned and moved a few steps away before turning back around. “I will not be amused if any of you try and break our agreement.” He didn’t wait for a response before leaving the deck.

  “I don’t like this,” Fizz said after X-1 had left.

  Switched turned to him and said, “Don’t worry about it. What I do is best done from here anyway.”

  “What about us?”

  “Let me figure out what to do,” Switch said. “I’ll see if I can hack into any surveillance this place has and get a bead on a location. When I do, we’re going after them, whether X-1 wants us to or not.”

  15

  Bishop thought he might have made a mistake. He should have gone to Switch, or at least done some research himself before climbing down from the observation deck and setting out on a solo mission. He had no idea how to even find Whistler, and all he knew about Ferris and Grieves was that they were somewhere in the city.

  Maybe.

  Could be.

  He wasn’t sure.

  Problem was, if he’d told Switch and the others of his plans, they would’ve tried to stop him or insist on coming along, and that he couldn’t risk.

  Benji’s Boobs and Booze was the kind of place where a guy walking in with a massive multi-firearm held by a magnetic holster on his back would hardly draw a second look. Bishop’s black suit, white shirt and tie garnered more attention from patrons than the belt of ammunition slung over his shoulder.

  The fact was that he looked like one of the nameless.

  The same nameless who, while not law enforcement, were not looked upon as allies to the criminal underground. Who were used as bounty hunters to kill or capture corporate thieves, specifically those who would kidnap high-ranking executives.

  Bishop elbowed his way up to the bar and wasted no time. “I’m looking for Whistler.”

  “What’s that? A drink? What’s in it? I can make just about anything,” the bartender said. He was a blond pretty boy with his shirt off and oiled-up skin showing off his eight-pack abs.

  “No, it’s not a drink.”

  “Then you need to move along. The stools here are for drinking customers only.”

  “You have any beer?”

  The bartender nodded and poured the beer. He had a quick conversation with a customer at the other end of the bar. Bishop couldn’t pick up what they were saying.

  The bartender set the beer down. Bishop paid him. “Whistler?”

  “He ain’t here.”

  “You know where I can find him?”

  Bishop felt a heavy hand on his shoulder before the bartender answered. The fingers were massive and gnarled. Bishop turned around to find himself looking in the face of an unnaturally enormous human being. He was a good seven feet tall, and ripped like a professional bodybuilder.

  “What do you want with Whistler?” the big man asked.

  “We have mutual friends,” Bishop told him.

  The big man looked at Bishop a while before nodding. “I can take you to him, but it won’t be free. A hundred standard, money upfront.”

  Bishop turned back to his beer and downed it in one gulp. “I’ll pay you after.”

  “Don’t trust me?”

  “Nope,” Bishop said, turning around and pointing to the door. “You going to lead the way?”

  “Yeah. You one of those nameless dudes? What’s your number?”

  “I got a name. Not a number.”

  The big man nodded. “Then what’s your name?”

  “Nah, you tell me yours first?”

  “They call me Sly.”

  He waited a beat for Bishop to reciprocate, and when Bishop said nothing, he turned and headed for the door. No working through the crowd for Sly, because as he walked, people moved out of the way on their own. Bishop tensed when they reached the exit and the big man reached into his pants, but he just pulled out a cube controller. Sl
y examined the face of the cube for a second and then kept moving out the door.

  …

  Pawn City was a maze of abandoned buildings, though many had makeshift storefronts as smugglers looked to move goods. Most came here looking to make specific deals with specific people, but with everyone in the black-market business, one way or another, there was always a buyer around if someone brought something of interest. That was why the storefronts were steadily bustling.

  Sly led Bishop past them all and turned down a half-empty road. The big man stopped and pointed down an isolated alleyway.

  “Down there?” Bishop asked.

  “Yeah—with all the shit going down, he don’t like to advertise where he is staying.”

  Bishop nodded. “Lead the way.”

  Sly walked ahead, and Bishop followed. They’d only gone a few steps before Sly took the cube out of his pocket and manipulated the top with his thumb. He then stopped and put the cube on the ground.

  “What are you doing?”

  Sly answered by throwing a right hook at Bishop’s head.

  Bishop had kept his distance, but Sly’s long arms made up the gap faster than he had expected. He blocked the blow, but it was like taking a steel girder to his forearms. It still moved him backward quite a few inches.

  “They wanted to watch,” Sly said as he moved forward.

  Bishop sat up and drew the multi-firearm from behind his back, but Sly’s boot connected to the thick rectangle rifle, knocking it from his grip. Bishop leaned back and threw a kick of his own, putting his heel right into Sly’s groin.

  The blow didn’t do much, but it delayed the stomping Sly planned to put on Bishop for an extra second, allowing Bishop to roll out of the way.

  Bishop rolled toward Sly instead of away and pressed his forearm to the big man’s thigh.

  He said, “Electrify,” and the black nameless suit sent what should be a fatal charge of electricity into Sly.

  Sly grunted, but other than that, he took it better than Bishop had hoped. Bishop rolled to his feet and put his arms up in time to take another punch to his forearms. This time he flew into the wall at the side of the alley. He kept on his feet and ducked a punch that put Sly’s fist through the wall.

  Bishop went for the LH-17 handgun holstered under his shoulder. He had the weapon in hand, but Sly grabbed his wrist preventing Bishop’s ability to shoot him. He tried as best as he could to crush the bones in his wrist.

  “Extreme external heat,” Bishop commanded the suit.

  The outside of the sleeve heated up and Sly’s skin began to smoke and sizzle. Instead of just letting go, as Bishop had hoped, Sly turned and tossed Bishop across the alley, bouncing him off the wall.

  Bishop got a face full of Pawn City dust as he ricocheted off the building. On impact, the gun came loose from his grip. He was down to just his fists. He had used up most of the suit’s energy stores. There was nowhere to recharge, and he didn’t have time to do it.

  Sly moved in, getting ready to stomp Bishop into dust.

  “What the hell are you doing, Sly?”

  Sly stopped moving forward and looked down the mouth of the alley to see Dean.

  “Just taking care of some personal business.”

  “Benji is looking for you. We got some problems downstairs,” Dean said, pointing at the cube on the ground. “I’ve been sending you messages.”

  “Like I said, personal business.”

  Sly turned back to where Bishop had fallen. He was still down, but on his back instead of his belly, and the gun was back in his grip.

  Bishop put the first two shots in Sly’s groin and then emptied the clip into his face.

  Sly stumbled and tried to hold his shredded face together as Bishop rolled to his feet and scooped up the multi-firearm he had lost in the dirt.

  Sly’s thick, stim-enhanced skull kept the slugs from Bishop’s gun from penetrating his brain. He was hurting and half blind, but he was still on his feet and looking to do damage.

  Bishop stepped back and said, “Grenade,” and a thick barrel emerged from the bottom corner of the multi-firearm.

  Bishop launched himself backward as he pulled the trigger and sent a cylindrical explosive rocketing into Sly’s gut. Bishop landed on his back as the grenade detonated, and pieces of Sly came down in the alley like a flash of flesh colored hail.

  Dean took a few steps toward Bishop, but froze in his tracks as he saw the wrong end of the multi-firearm pointing at his face. Dean took a step back and raised his hands above his head.

  “I heard them multi-guns jam a lot.”

  “Not this one.”

  “Don’t get trigger happy on me now. I was just making conversation. Whatever was between you and Sly has nothing to do with me. He and I ain’t ever been buddies.”

  “I have never seen the fucker before in my life.”

  Dean wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I’m looking for Whistler.”

  “You going to kill him too?” Dean asked.

  “No, I’m here to help him, but…”

  “Yeah…you might want to take a shower, get some clean clothes. Sly’s goo is all over you, man.”

  “Uh-huh.” Bishop shook his head free of Sly’s insides. “Remove external matter.” The rest was repelled from his suit.

  “Bro, that’s kind of awesome.”

  Bishop grunted. “Back to Whistler.”

  “I don’t know where he is.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I don’t know what Sly told you, but we work for Benji.”

  “As in Benji’s B&B?”

  “Yeah,” Dean said. “We—or, well, now I work security. Given all the shit that’s been going down, I’ll bet Benji’s gonna want to talk to you.”

  “Does Benji know where Whistler is?”

  “I don’t know, but if anyone can find him, Benji can.”

  “Take me to him.”

  “All right. You mind if I take his cube?”

  Bishop nodded and motioned with the gun.

  Dean picked up the cube and examined it for a second before running his thumb across the top. “He was broadcasting your little death match to somebody.”

  “Who?” Bishop asked, even though he had a good idea who it was.

  “Don’t know. Cube’s locked.”

  “Benji got someone who can open it?”

  “No, not much need for that in a brothel. But Whistler might. And if anyone can find him—”

  “Benji can,” Bishop said. “Yeah, yeah. All right, let’s go.”

  “You mind pointing that thing somewhere else while we go?” Dean asked.

  “Yeah.” Bishop kept the gun trained on him.

  “I’m helping you here, man.”

  “That’s exactly what your friend Sly said, and we both know what happened with him.”

  16

  They watched as the plan began to unfold. Grieves made Darlene stand witness. She, Ferris, a few of their officers, and King the hybrid lion had gathered in the makeshift intelligence center. They watched as the man who had exited the plane was being led into a trap by Grieves’ inside man.

  He transmitted the feed direct from Pawn City via his cube.

  Outside, one of the techs had set it up to broadcast in the center so the entire city could view it as entertainment. Grieves was that confident in the plan.

  Darlene didn’t know the well-dressed man with the dark skin and broad shoulders, but it was clear Ferris and Grieves did. It was also clear they didn’t like him very much. As the first punch was thrown by their inside man, she could see the elation on their faces.

  She could also see the concern start to grow within a few minutes when their inside man couldn’t finish the man in the suit. Grieves and Ferris were yelling at the images on the screen when their inside man started to lose the upper hand altogether.

  It was over before they knew it.

  Their man went down.

  Darlene was the only one in the room who felt good ab
out the result. She had to resist the urge to cheer when the huge stimmer who was spying for the general took a grenade to the gut. The joy that she felt could not be expressed.

  Grieves turned to leave the room in a huff, but Ferris stopped him.

  “He’s still broadcasting.”

  “And?”

  Ferris had no answer for that, but he stayed and watched anyway.

  After Dean shut down the cube, Ferris smirked.

  “As ever, the Lord Inferno provides,” he said. “At least we know where he’s going. Do we still have assets inside?”

  “Just a few paid informants,” Grieves said. “But no one like Sly, no one I trust to take out Mason.”

  “I’ll kill Mason myself. Or, better yet, I’ll bring him back to Inferno City and we can all take a turn at him before we kill him,” Ferris said. “Have the asset open the door we used to hit Whistler. I’ll take my team and extract him from Benji’s.”

  “Count me in,” Grieves demanded.

  “It’s better we stay apart for this mission. I’ll bring him back if I can.”

  Grieves nodded.

  Ferris turned to one of his officers. “Assemble our best quick-strike team. We will be going in hard.”

  “Seems excessive for one man—” the officer began.

  “I don’t recall asking you for your opinion. Just get it done and be quick about it. We need to get going as soon as possible. We don’t know how long Mason will be at Benji’s.”

  The officer nodded and headed out of the room.

  “It does seem excessive,” Grieves said. “A team of five good men could get it done.”

  “Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. Besides, this is twice he’s managed to keep himself alive despite our best efforts. There will not be a third time.”

  Grieves nodded, and Ferris moved briskly to join the strike team his officer was assembling.

  Grieves looked at Darlene. “It’s a shame that I don’t trust you yet. You could be of assistance.”

  Darlene stayed silent. It seemed to be her best weapon.

  He looked at the others. “Back to work. And have someone take her back to her quarters. She is to remain locked up until this operation is over.”

 

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