Omega point rak-2

by Guy Haley

  Spink's hands shook just a little less, and his twitching head stilled. He smiled and nodded to himself.

  "This Lord Hog, evil, is he?"

  "He is a cannibal, a sorceror, a torturer; the very lord of pain!" intoned Spink.

  The sun dimmed outside. The ground rumbled. Iron clanked on iron. Shouts sounded. Iron file boxes fell from the shelves of the office, paper fluttering to the iron floor. Richards gripped his chair. His tea spilled on the desk.

  Spink sniffed at the air as the earthquake subsided. "And a pervert."

  "In that case," said Richards, scratching at his head, "I have a request."

  "Anything," said Spink. "Name it, and it shall be yours."

  Richards spoke solemnly. "I'm afraid I'm going to need a new hat."

  CHAPTER 13

  Bratsk

  Otto took the unconscious Cossack technician into his arms gently and put him into his seat. There was not enough space in the operations cabin to lay him down, and no matter how he arranged the man's limbs he would not sit properly, so he left him there slumped like a drunk in his chair. Untidy, thought Otto. It offended his German sense of neatness. He checked the Cossack's pulse; unenhanced humans were so fragile. He felt a kick of relief at the sluggish throb his Ky-tech eyes showed him.

  "Valdaire's run it right, no alarm," said Lehmann.

  Otto glanced around at the screens in the car, two stations, full surveillance capability. The Cossacks could lock the whole train down from here. No signs of any disturbance. The operations cabin buzzed with electrical activity, all of it unaware of the Ky-techs' presence. "Five minutes before the next scheduled walk-through," said Otto. "These Cossacks do not take many chances."

  "Up and out," said Lehmann. "Can't we just kick our way in?"

  "Valdaire can't crack the locks to the barrack car without alerting the squad inside. We're not quite done with being quiet. We go in through the door, they get to pick us off one at a time. This way, we get the drop on them."

  "Otto, Lehmann, the guards have made their passes to the ends of the train and are coming back." Valdaire spoke through their earpieces, comms channel bonded to the train's in-service entertainment systems, hidden within it. "You've got less than five. I can keep the security offline and repeating for a while longer, but you need to move now. We'll be crossing the AI Pale soon; if I do not deactivate Chloe, she'll be noticed and destroyed by the Chinese."

  "That lady scares me," said Lehmann. "Give me a gun and an honest fight, not the sneak of InfoWar."

  "What did you do with yours?" asked Otto.

  "I locked him in the toilet," said Lehmann, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "He'll live. Shall I boost you, sir?" Lehmann gave a lazy salute and raised his eyes up to the skylight.

  Lehmann laced his fingers together and Otto stepped into them. "On three," he said. "One, two, three!"

  Lehmman thrust Otto up. Otto slammed his palms flat into the skylight, popping it out of its housing. He emerged into the rush of wind to see the panel flipping over and over down the lazy curve of the train. It bounced, and disappeared into the trees.

  Otto turned his head into the wind, eyeballed the sentry gun in front of him. The machine's barrels swept past his face, panning round, looking for threats. It was operational; it just didn't see him. Lehmann was right about Valdaire.

  He hauled himself onto the swaying roof of the train. It had accelerated once it had passed the ruined town, and now it approached the centre of the demilitarised zone it was running close to 170kph. Otto moved carefully onto the roof, keeping an eye on the parapet on the barracks van behind the operations centre; less a carriage and more a fortress on wheels. There was always one man on duty up there, pacing round, no matter the weather. Otto had seconds before he returned.

  The roof was slick with moisture, the air cold, the wind snatching it from his lungs. He leant back into the skylight and hauled the bag containing Lehmann's long rifle, then Lehmann himself, up onto the roof. Together they worked their way along the top of the train to the front of the barracks van. That it was heavily armoured went in their favour; the windows were small and thick, and no one was looking out of them.

  "Two minutes," said Valdaire into their ears as the two cyborgs worked their way up the carriage. Lehmann pulled himself over the parapet. Otto watched through Lehmann's eyes as he stalked up behind the Cossack sentry and knocked him unconscious. Otto scanned the train roof for signs of detection. Seeing none, he followed onto the upper deck of the barracks van and went round the opposite side of the carriage to Lehmann.

  "One minute," said Valdaire. "Come on, guys, the patrol is due back in the operations cabin any second now."

  As one, Otto and Lehmann punched their augmented fists through the sides of the armoured wagon. Faint shouts could be heard from within. An alarm sounded as Otto and Lehmann tossed in a pair of grenades each. Wisps of gas rose up from the holes they'd made, followed by the crack of EMP. The lights in the cabin went out, the alarm in there cutting out also. The shouting became coughs.

  Otto ran to the door leading to the roof. A Cossack was coming through the hatch, carbine ready. Otto slammed him with his forearm, sending him back into two others following behind. He yanked the door shut, mangling its mechanism with his hands. They dripped blood onto the deck

  A couple of rounds came through the holes they'd made.

  "Just in time, Klein," said Valdaire. "Only two of the men in there got their breathing units on; they're trapped. You've taken out a total of seventeen so far. That leaves another eleven still on the train. Chures has collared two and disarmed them." As she spoke, information downloaded into his mind, showing him the locations of the remaining Cossacks.

  "Chures has two, two are trapped, seven are loose?" asked Otto, shouting over the rush of the wind.

  "Confirmed. No fatalities. I'm going to have to shut Chloe off soon. We're approaching the outlying bastions of the Great Firewall. I've deactivated the train's automated defence systems, but you're on your own now. We've about ten minutes before other Cossack border units get here. We'll meet you at the transport car."

  "Be careful!" shouted Otto. "We have no idea how many of Kaplinski's men are aboard the train. Lehmann, stay here, cover the train roof. I'm going back down. I'll signal you when I have the transport."

  Lehmann's icon flashed in his iHUD. Affirmative. He unzipped his bag and started to assemble his gun.

  Otto left his gear with Lehmann, pulled his pistol and ran, the need for stealth gone, toward the transport cars behind the barracks van. The first held horses for each of the Cossacks. It was not merely tradition; out in the wilds they were still the most efficient means of transport. He ran swiftly over the roof of the stable, enhanced senses picking up the movement of the animals within. He leapt from the top onto the flatbed behind, landing between two rows of four airbikes locked into stands. A tall autoturret stood in the middle. Past it, at the far end of the flatbed, was what he'd come for; a Szyminksi-Braun SSATV1123a "Stelsco", a six-wheeled, all-terrain stealth scouting vehicle, fast and armed, made by the same company as had altered Otto, clamped into a travel cradle.

  He strode toward it, his near-I adjutant seeking entry to its systems. It found a keyhole and engaged, pouring out a parcel of hackware Valdaire had provided him with.

  Here they come! thought out Lehmann. Otto watched on his squad feed as four Cossacks came down the train on bounding overwatch.

  Try not to kill them, thought Otto.

  I'll do my best, said Lehmann, opening fire. He kept his bursts short and accurate, playing fire over the roof of the armoured train, driving the Cossacks back until they found sanctuary in a gap between the carriages.

  Where are the other three?

  No idea, thought Otto. I have no tactical overview now Chloe is offline. Keep an eye on the men below — the gas will be wearing off soon.

  From Lehmann's ears he heard the sound of hammering on the interior of the barracks van. Now you tell me, he thought.<
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  There were twelve elements to the Stelsco system's lock, a Chance Key. Twelve red dots in his mind that could be anything, images, snatches of song, complex equations. He felt his mentaug struggle as it applied the full force of Valdaire's 'ware to the task. Chloe would have been better suited to this operation, but AI were almost immediately detected in Sinocyberspace and were extirpated without mercy. Ever since the Five crisis the Chinese had had a genocidal ban on thinking machines, and Chloe was well over the line of the Chinese definition of such.

  Eight and a half minutes. They were running out of time.

  He approached the Stelsco, evaluating if he could rip the cradle's locking bars away by force. His earpiece crackled. Valdaire.

  "Otto, we've got a problem!"

  And then Sakaday stepped round the Stelsco and pointed a gun at Otto's head. "Been a long time, Klein."

  Fucking stupid plan, Otto, said Kaplinski over the MT. Now stand down and help me find Waldo, or I swear to God I will tear your little friend's arms off.

  Lehmann was taking fire from the Cossacks guarding the train, forcing him to duck in between his own bursts.

  Sakaday grinned wide.

  In Otto's head, a chime sounded; the Chance Key. One dot green. Eleven to go. He had to buy some time.

  "He got you, Valdaire?" asked Otto. Static replied, the radio jammed.

  I have her, Klein, thought Kaplinski. Stand down.

  Then let me speak to her.

  I have her, repeated Kaplinski.

  You're bluffing, thought out Otto. And maybe he's not, he added to himself.

  He launched himself at Sakaday anyway. What choice did he have?

  Chures bundled Valdaire into a compartment as bullets hissed down the corridor. A man in grey, one of Kaplinski's goons, held a gun out in front of him. Chures dropped to the floor and a scream sounded from behind him as a bullet meant for him caught another. A weapon discharged loudly, ricocheting off the bulletproof external window and shattering compartment glass. More screams. A door crashed open, wild firing. The man in grey shot over Chures, dropping someone else.

  "We're crossing the demarcation line. Chloe's going off!" shouted Valdaire. "Three… two… one…"

  The man drew a bead on Chures, a savage glee on his face.

  "Disengaging! We're over the line" shouted Valdaire.

  The train juddered as its AI driver shut down, to be replaced with a People's Dynasty approved human operator. The ride became correspondingly rougher.

  The man in grey's shot went wild as the train lurched. Chures recovered quickly, and put a bullet through his heart.

  Chures got up. Behind him a dead Cossack sprawled, blood pooling on the expensive carpet, its absorption facility overwhelmed by the amount. A passenger, a pumped-up Russian with a machine pistol, lay bleeding and whimpering by him, skin white. Chures walked to the man in grey. He lay with eyes open. Chures spat on him. " Puta," he said. He recognised the man. He squatted down, checked him over. Not full Ky-tech like Klein.

  Valdaire came out of the compartment, checking and rechecking Chloe. Happy she was asleep, she put the phone away and pulled out her own gun. "Is he dead?"

  "Yes. These ones are lightly augmented. They die easily enough."

  Valdaire looked uncomfortable.

  "Do not feel sorry for him, Senora. These pendejos almost trapped me in Colorado the day before I found you. One of them caught me in a goods yard, but a half metre of timber put him down. I have them to thank for this." He indicated the yellowing bruises on his face.

  "Doesn't mean he deserved to die, Chures."

  Chures looked at her hard. She was a soldier, she protested her dislike of violence, but she held her gun comfortably enough. "Come on."

  Otto closed the distance between him and Sakaday with a standing leap of four metres. Sakaday's eyes widened, and Otto's iHUD saw his pulse rate skyrocket. His adjutant predicted likely firing patterns from the mercenary and Otto moved accordingly, turning in the air as he came. Sakaday was fast, getting off four rounds. Pain streaked across Otto's bicep as one clipped him. Then Otto made contact, slapping the gun aside, grabbing the mercenary's wrist and pulling himself fast onto the Nigerian, dragging the other cyborg's arm out and exposing his chin to a blow from Otto's elbow.

  Sakaday was younger than Otto, his biologicals fitter and his bionic components more modern, not yet at war with his birth body. Electoos glinted like golden serpents on his rich brown skin. He was not as heavily specced, but he was fast. He caught Otto's elbow as they fell and pushed it up and away. Simultaneously he jerked his arm, still in the vice of Otto's fist. Otto was forced backwards, releasing Sakaday's wrist. Sakaday was staggered by the momentum of Otto's leap. Otto crashed into a clamped airbike, wrecking it. Both recovered quickly.

  Sakaday looked at the wreckage. The train wavered from side to side violently. The AI driver had capacity to govern its smart bogies, constant adjustments compensating for the ancient track. With the train into the DMZ, the AI was off and they were running dumb. Sakaday drew a knife as Otto pulled himself to his feet.

  Otto shook his head and spat a rope of bloody saliva from his mouth. He smiled.

  "What are you doing? What are you doing?" shouted Sakaday. He slapped his chest and held his arms wide. "You are a crazy man." His accent was richly African. "Heh? Heh? Klein, surrender now. Kaplinski wants you alive. Stop!"

  Good, thought Otto, he didn't think he was going to have to fight me. "So I can work with a rapist and killer like you, Sakaday? I don't think so," said Otto. A second green light pinged in his mind, rapidly followed by a third. He ran again at Sakaday.

  They grappled like animals. Their enhancements included many safeguards against standard melee techniques. Many moves that would put a normal man out of a fight by destroying joints or snapping limbs did not work on Ky-tech. When fighting one another, they were trained to utilise a brutal blend of martial arts, based primarily on military combat disciplines like Defendu and Krav Maga, but incorporating martial arts like Aikido, primarily those that involved the redirection of mass and energy, forever trying to put one another off balance.

  That was the idea behind their training, but mostly they just punched the shit out of each other using their massively enhanced strength.

  Otto pinned Sakaday's arms by his side, preventing him from bringing his monomolecular knife to bear, and headbutted him three times in the face. Sakaday twisted back and forth, trying to avoid Otto's bludgeoning skull. He caught two blows on his cheeks and the third cracked his nose.

  A fourth green light. Otto's adjutant was working faster, bandwidth freed up by the deactivation of train AI, allowing it to search the Grid rapidly for Chance Key matches. Lucky for him the USNA and the EU wouldn't sell high-end quantum cyphering to the Russians.

  Sakaday snapped his teeth towards Otto, drew himself down and in, then flung his arms out. Unable to break Otto's hold, he got enough room to hook his feet behind Otto's calves and send them both tumbling to the floor. Otto's hold jarred loose, allowing Sakaday to roll free. Lying on his back, Otto chopped down with his forearm, aiming for the African's throat. Sakaday evaded, Otto's arm leaving a long dent in the metal. Otto followed the momentum of his strike, rolling himself over, flipping his legs out and round, tangling Sakaday's knife hand and kicking the weapon free. Otto's legs spun. He pushed with his arms and landed on his feet.

  Sakaday scowled at him, blood trickling from his nose. "You are fighting well for an old man."

  They circled one another round the autoturret, the train swaying under them.

  "You fight like a girl, Sakaday. I suppose that is all you have fought against, women, you and your unit, murdering and raping civilians."

  Sakaday shrugged. Otto cursed inwardly. Things would be better if he were fighting Kaplinski, or some shit like Tufa. He needed a talker. Kaplinski he could goad, he was a self-justifier. Kaplinski would rant on until Christmas. Sakaday never said much. He just killed and laughed while he did it.


  It was so much easier with talkers.

  A fifth green light. Then a sixth.

  Come on! He thought, urging his adjutant on. The mentaug's information flow stuttered with effort, but the remaining six lights remained stubbornly red.

  He was going to have to fight some more.

  Verdammt, his shoulder hurt. He rotated it, snarled at the pain, and charged back into the fray.

  Chures dropped another man in grey. There were a lot of them, so many that their clothes must have had camo-functions, only morphing into their anonymous uniform as the conflict began. It was obvious tech, if you were looking for it. Anywhere else such adaptive garb would have been cause for high suspicion, but this was Russia, where questions of that kind were answered by bullets, or silenced with cash.

  The men were coming fast, too eagerly, and Chures wondered what the hell Kaplinski had promised them to get them to attack so recklessly.

  "These idiots are behaving like zealots, not mercenaries," he said under his breath. His uplinks gave him no clue as to their identity, the same masking techniques as effective here as they had been when they'd taken him on in Colorado and when they'd killed Qifang 2 back in Morden.

  Gunfire blazed the length of the train. Many of the passengers were armed, and the few Cossacks remaining at liberty had identified the men in grey as the threat. For the time being, he and Valdaire would look just like another gung-ho pair engaging hostile elements on the train; it had happened before.

  "How long until the Cossacks work out the complexity of the situation?" he shouted back to Valdaire. She shrugged; there was no way of knowing, now that Chloe was off. She covered the corridor behind them. Chures refrained then from asking her how many men in grey there were.

  "There's a firefight still going on in the carriage two down from ours. Cossacks, I think. Nothing coming our way."

  Chures breathed out, forcing the tension from his muscles. He changed the magazine in his gun; there were only two bullets left in his current clip. "The only thing we can do is go forward."