“No, don’t. Please, stop!”
Paz slid his hand up her side. Marta slapped his face hard. “No, stop!”
He enjoyed the resistance; it added to the fun.
“Hey, ugly. Did you get tired of humping your brother’s leg?” Max slammed into Paz’s back, knocking him against the bar and freeing her.
Barely fazed by the hit, he recovered quickly and backhanded the would-be hero. Hi-risers in the vicinity hurried to make room for the brawl. The rest of the club kept dancing. Paz straddled Max’s sprawled body with payback foremost on his mind.
“Yu poca pute.” he chuckled.
He drew back to strike, but a cold hard vice apprehended his fist. Tank squeezed his biomech hand, crushing Paz’s fleshy appendage. The brute dropped to his knees.
“I don’t think so,” Tank growled.
Tears welled up in Paz’s eyes. “No, frien, dont hurd me!”
“Looks like I get to take out the trash tonight.”
Tank was unaware of the other Vega sneaking up behind him with a blade drawn. Paco lunged. Zoe intercepted the strike, disarming him, and smashing his face into the polished floor. Planting her boot heel on his neck, she cranked the arm and nailed him down.
Tank exhaled. “Thanks.”
Pavel rushed to Marta. “Are you hurt?”
Max got to his feet, rubbing his sore jaw. “Yeah, she’s alright, no thanks to you.”
Emil puffed out his chest. “Watch your mouth with me, kid.”
“Or what, old man?”
“Pretty slick move there, using your head to block his fist,” Tank teased, distracting the two firebrands.
Most of the clubbers returned to their apathy, but some found the ruckus mesmerizing. Emil felt vulnerable.
“What the hell is going on here?” demanded the voice from the back of the room, so loud everyone heard it over the music.
The crowd parted. Patti and her two bodyguards, Burke and Scar, marched through the club. She stared down the group of misfits causing chaos.
“It’s nothing,” Tank answered. “These two were just leaving.”
She looked at Zoe. “I should’ve figured you’re behind this.”
“No, it’s not her fault,” Max defended. “We — I need help.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she shouted. “Max, you are in so much troub... what the hell are you wearing?”
He forgot about the clothes. “Let me explain this. I —“
“Did you steal from lost and found again?” She already knew the answer. “Never mind — never mind! It’s not important. Whatever you’re mixed up in, so long as it involves this woman, it’s nothing good. Do you know how much trouble you’re in? They’re out there looking for you.”
Max’s downcast look admitted to his culpability. She wasn’t surprised, not in the least.
“Bag that one,” she ordered her bodyguards, referring to Emil. “We’ll turn him over ourselves. Maybe it’ll keep Cho off us.”
The two blokes went for the General. He retaliated by shoving Marta behind him and aiming his pistol at Patti. “That’s far enough. Tell your men to back off.”
The matriarch stiffened her shoulders, challenging the Romanian to shoot her. “You dare to come into my club, waving a gun around, barking orders? Who the muck do you think you are?”
He cocked the weapon. “I’m the man with a gun and an itchy trigger finger. Back off!”
Max got between them. “Hey, don’t point that at her.”
Emil cursed under his breath. The boy had just called his bluff. As the tension defused, he detected several armed men roaming through the crowd.
“Tell your other guys to back off, too,” he demanded.
“What other guys?” she snapped.
“The three apes with autos circling around us.”
Tank spotted the suspicious men. “Bounty hunters.”
“Muck us, we’re too late,” Patti cursed.
Paz laughed through the agony.
Tank squeezed his hand harder. “What’s so funny, craphead?”
The Vega looked at Max and then to Patti. “Gev us wat Cho wans and we tell em you hep us,” he offered, thinking above his mental capacity.
“No deal. You’d turn on us the first chance you get. Besides, I don’t think Cho is dumb enough to start a fight in a packed nightclub.”
“It no mat’er cuz dey muv wen shoot’ng start.”
The idiot was right. Not confident of her wisdom, she removed Zoe’s gun from the holster, aimed it high, and fired a single shot. The club grounded to a fast halt and the clubbers stared at her with bewildered expressions. She fired another round, this time causing the crowd to dash for the exits. Two of the hidden bounty hunters didn’t stand a chance and were swept away by the stampeding mob. The last hunter aimed his weapon at her.
“Get down,” Emil yelled.
Burke protected Patti while he killed the man with a clean hit.
She looked at him with mixed impressions. “Don’t expect me to thank you.”
“We have to get out of here,” Zoe added.
Scar went to the lobby and returned seconds later. “Cho’s guys are everywhere outside.”
“Damn it,” she said. Wasting no time, she took charge. “We got work to do.”
Over the long minutes that followed, they prepared for the imminent invasion. Emil and Zoe tied the brothers back-to-back in chairs with electrical cord. Max and Tank overturned furniture to form a makeshift barricade near the steps leading from the lobby.
The bodyguards came out of a storeroom carrying bundles of rifles, pistols, and ammo. They deposited the cache on the bar top in specific rows. Why the Luma Lounge needed an arsenal was question with an answer that was relevant to this scenario. No one could accuse Patti of not planning ahead.
Picking out the biggest guns for themselves, the younger men left only the smaller weapons for everyone else. They needed the feel of something big in their hands. Content with using a submachine gun, Emil laughed at their machismo.
The prepping ended moments before the assault began. Thundering boots smashed through the lobby en route to the main area. The kids hid behind the bar. Shielded by the barricade, Tank lifted the Vegas up in front of him and Patti. Zoe, Emil, and the bodyguards sought refuge behind the columns on opposite ends of the room.
The hunters flooded in, hollering “Drop your weapons! Weapons down! Get down!”
“Don’t come any closer!” Tank barked over the racket they were making.
The hunters fanned out and assumed firing positions. Faso moved front and center. “We ain’t here for you, Patti. We just want the Russian and Max.”
Emil popped his head out. “I’m Romanian, you moron.”
“Whatever. Just give up and no one gets hurt. Patti, it don’t have to go down like this.”
“Agreed. So get the hell out of here and I’ll pretend this never happened.”
“No dice. I’ll give the order to fire. You know I will.”
“Yeah? Go ahead.”
The outnumbered good guys gave Patti a what the muck look. Zoe had a few choice words she wanted to say, but bit her tongue instead.
After time elapsed with no hair-trigger outbursts, it seemed Patti’s gambit had paid off. Faso was clueless on what to do next. The last thing he needed was to cross her, but he also couldn’t fail Cho. Either alternative could’ve gotten him killed.
“Well?” she asked.
“Well what?”
“I guess we have ourselves an impasse.”
The bounty hunters looked at one another. Impasse? No one knew what the word meant.
“A standoff — you stupid mucks.”
“Ah — yeah. I guess we do,” Faso agreed.
Twitchy fingers itched every trigger. The tension escalated as a cold chill ran up Patti’s spine, like emptiness wrapped in sheer malevolence. The initial shock settled and the terrible realization from whom it originated dawned on her.
“Oh my Go
d,” she said to herself.
Kroll floated into the club.
“You,” she greeted the latest invader.
He looked at her, almost astonished to see her associating with scum. “This is a small world. I never thought I would see you again.”
“It can’t be.”
Yet, there he stood. Max’s troubles were worse than she imagined.
“General Pavel, I am here for you only. Surrender and I promise no harm will befall your friends.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Zoe called out. “He’s lying.”
“Piss off,” Emil replied.
The assassin scanned the room, examining each participant with his mind. When he entered the club, Marta had sensed his sickening imminence and raised her head to seek out the cause. His scrutiny fell on her and he recognized her neural signature as the same mysterious pulse from the tower.
She felt him probing her mind. It wasn’t mild or inconspicuous. The sensation made her eyes and ears burn. She collapsed. Her scream sent out an invisible wave, forcing the him to break the link. He shrugged off the disorientation, realizing the girl was no aberration; she was something entirely different.
“Change of plans,” he said to Faso. “Bring the girl and Pavel to me alive. Eliminate the rest.”
“Like hell I will. Boss Cho wants the boy alive so he can kill him himself.”
The brute didn’t understand the proper chain of command, so Kroll wasn’t going to hold the insubordination against him. There were easier ways to coerce stubborn humans.
“I will triple the reward,” he offered.
Faso’s loyal convictions vanished with the right price. Boss Cho would just have to forgive the disobedience. He signaled to his men, “Okay, you heard the man! Get the girl and the Russian; take out everyone else!”
For the Vegas, caught in the line of fire, it was the end for them. Paz begged, “Dont kel us!”
Faso shrugged. “Sorry, bros. The money’s too good to pass up.”
As bullets sliced the air, Tank pulled the brothers on top of himself and Patti. The first volley killed Burke. Emil and Scar crouched behind the pillars and returned gunfire. Zoe dodged in-and-out, taking three of Faso’s men permanently out of the fight with lightning fast headshots.
The violence escalated as the hunters lobbed explosive charges willy-nilly. Splintered wood and shattered glass polluted the air.
Faso ran along the line, slapping his men. “Pendejos! Watch your fire! We want those two alive!”
Kroll used his ora to form a field around his body, deflecting bullets and shrapnel. At his leisure, he blasted streams of intense energy at those standing in his way.
Tank tossed the brothers aside to evade the Zolarian’s attacks. Protecting Patti with his massive frame, they took shelter under the staircase.
Faso crawled to the Vegas and with a flick of a knife, cut them loose. Paz slugged him. “Yu poco mere!”
“Hey, you want five percent or not?” Faso asked, wiping blood from his busted lip.
“Seven,” he countered.
“Four.”
“Deal,” the dullard accepted.
Cho’s lieutenant smirked as he armed the two buffoons. With bygones settled, Paz and Paco joined the fight.
Under cover-fire from Zoe, Emil rolled to Burke’s body and grabbed the big gun from the man’s dead hands. But, before he could get to his feet and use it, Faso tackled him and they wrestled for control of the weapon.
The younger man growled and spewed his stinking breath in the General’s face. “You’re mine, old man.”
The stench coming from the hunter’s mouth was unbearable. Emil kneed the groin and beat him senseless with crushing head-butts. Rolling to the side, he shot Faso through the sternum, propelling the thug several meters away.
“Think again, kid,” Emil quipped.
On his feet, he opened full auto-fire, mowing down the enemy with hundreds of rounds. He advanced, unaware that the crimson ora was no longer snug in his pocket, but on the floor next to the bar.
Broken glass from exploding bottles showered on Max and Marta’s heads. He tried to cover her, but in a panic, she scurried from him. She only stopped when she got to the end and there was nowhere else to go.
There she saw the shimmering crystal. It sang to her, producing an elemental memory. A visceral curiosity overruled her fear and she seized the object. Then the world became eerily silent, devoid of bloodshed and angry combatants committing violence.
For almost everyone else, the fight went on without the slightest detection. But, for Kroll and Patti, a high pitch frequency drowned out the gunfire and explosions. Both of them looked for the girl.
Max scurried to her. The hand holding the crystal twitched hysterically from an unseen burn.
“Hey, wake up,” he called as he patted her cheeks. “No, don’t do this now. Wake up!”
Isolated inside a different realm, she couldn’t hear him. In the air above her, an apparition descended. Sensing a relation to its warmth, she reached to touch it. The figure of pure light extended for her as well. As their fingertips were about to become one, a force yanked Marta back to reality.
She looked at Max, who was yelling at her with silent words. He had pried the ora from her rigid fingers and now held it in his hand. While she regained consciousness, he tucked the crystal in his pocket.
“Come on. Get up.”
Kroll appeared at the end of the bar. Max didn’t wait for Marta to recover; he started dragging her in the opposite direction. The demon would’ve had them, if not for Zoe firing on him, forcing him to abandon pursuit. The diversion was enough for the kids to get away and disappear down the service hall.
She spent the entire magazine and when she paused to reload, Kroll hurled a gust, catapulting her across the room. The wave traveled and smashed through the staircase. Patti and Tank vaulted to safety just as the support beams collapsed. Falling debris crushed two bounty hunters and half buried Zoe. Fire erupted and spread fast because of the alcohol soaked wood, consuming most of the second level.
With Cho’s men either dead or wounded, the Vegas ditched the lost fight and ran out the front. Emil, Tank, and Scar picked off the few holdouts.
Patti Luma staggered into the middle of her nightclub. Everything she had built with her life’s blood was burning.
“We got to go,” Tank shouted.
She didn’t want to move, but a single thought reclaimed her focus. “Where’s Max?”
“He got out with the girl. We’ll find him, but I got to get you out of here first.”
She pointed to Zoe. “Grab her.”
He pulled the cataleptic woman from the rubble and threw her over his shoulder. As they raced to the front, Patti turned back to the Romanian, who was frantically searching for the missing ora. She would have preferred to leave him behind.
“You coming or what?”
With the ceiling crashing down around him, he gave up and joined them as they ran for their lives.
Boss Cho, stunned to see the old woman alive, braced for her wrath. Tank and Scar escorted her straight toward his ground-limo. Much to his confused relief, she ignored him. The Vegas retreated, letting Patti’s men commandeer the car. Tank laid Zoe in the backseat. Emil climbed in next to her.
“I swear, this is not what I wanted,” the gangster insisted.
She looked through him and he shrank like a scolded dog. “You let my place burn; I’m taking your ride. Consider it your down payment.”
Patti boarded the limo. The fancy car drove away, leaving Cho alone with the flaming Luma Lounge to serve as a testament to his rapacious ambition.
Chapter 16
Hiding out
Max and Marta ran down the narrow passage. The lights flickered, creating a strobe effect which pushed their anxiety to a fever pitch.
They got to the door and he struggled to free the wedged crossbar. The Zolarian’s fiery silhouette found them. She held on to her protector, digging her fingers i
nto his arm.
Max didn’t dare look; he focused on the task at hand. The bar dislodged with one strenuous tug, but it was too late. As he turned to fight, a blast pushed him into the wall.
Defenseless, Marta confronted the threat. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel his eyes examining her, seeking to learn who or what she was. He made his move and she screamed, shattering the electrical lights along the length of the hallway with its intensity. The shadow man fell, protecting his ears from the fierce shriek.
Handling the crossbar like a mace, Max rose up behind him and swung. It hit with a loud thump against the villain’s head. Kroll went over and didn’t get back up.
Together they burst through the door and out into the alley. Assuming there would be a dozen bounty hunters waiting, he came out swinging the bar. Fortune was theirs; the alley was deserted. The next problem — transportation; they couldn’t hope to escape on foot. By providence, there was a mint condition Trezor Talon parked along the wall. He tossed the weapon and went for the motorbike.
Talons were renowned for their speed, but they had one supreme drawback — a third-rate security system. He deactivated the antitheft device with one hooked finger. Straddling the bike’s seat, he pounded the kick-start. The engine roared.
“Come on.”
She got on and held him tight. He gunned the bike and they zipped toward the street. In a flash, a K9E leapt from the darkness and almost snagged them with its metallic jaws. Alerted by the commotion, four more drones joined the first one in giving chase.
Max drove the cluttered streets, dodging obstacles at breakneck haste. No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake the lead robot. It snapped its lockjaw, vying to catch anything that would stop the bike. He pressed the throttle back to the point of breaking the polymer grip, but he wasn’t able to gain distance.
The chase cleared the lower streets and detoured up a ramp leading to the Lo-5’s mid-levels, where the elevated stages were cleaner and less cluttered. The engine’s roar resonated, as did the clicking of twenty metal claws scratching the walkways.
The leader got within a meter from the back tire. A long scaffold blocked the road ahead. Max through the new hindrance. Three of the robots separated and pursued from different vantages. The other two were farther behind. The leader rammed through, demolishing the scaffold’s foundation and slowing its pace. Metal bars showered with an awful clanging onto one of the trailing robots.
Brigends (The Final War Series Book 1) Page 13