Gene Drifters: The Clone Soldier Chronicles-Book III

by Takemoto, D. J.

  But hired killers were not, and luckily they were still locked inside that Biohazard van. When they could not exit their van they contacted headquarters to send another team, this time directly to the Aberdeen Harbor. Because despite being stuck inside their van, they saw Roxanne Smoot get into the robo-limo at the science lab loading dock, and tell the driver to take her to Aberdeen Harbor dock # 23.

  At Donner Pass rebel headquarters, Dorian watched everything on his sat-hack vids. But he was in a hurry that day, and so he failed to follow his usual commandment; never send crucial recon info via an open sat-hack; always use the more secure music code.

  By some strange twist of fate, that day out in the desert near Lone Pine, a member of the World Monetary Enterprise, the WME Mutant Culling Patrol, was outside. He was hungry, tired of regulation rations, and decided to shoot a coyote for dinner. Because the place was isolated, and because a recon satellite happened to be passing by, he picked up the signal and sent it to de-coding headquarters in Ft. Riley, Kansas.

  There was a serious delay because the decoder was playing a pornographic video game and failed to see the red flashing signal for incoming. But eventually he got the bot signal, read and decoded it, and sent it on to the Hong Kong Homeland Security Station, where it was subsequently rated as a level yellow, and thus relayed to the local Aberdeen Harbor patrol.

  By the time Dorian realized his mistake it was too late. Roxanne walked into an ambush, but not by the Homeland Security or Harbor patrol. Michael, Darcy, and Rose arrived too late. It went down bad. Here’s what happened.

  Roxanne crept out of the lab building, crab walked around the back of the Biohazard truck, and climbed into the robo-limo, which said, “Good day, esteemed customer. Where is your destination today? How would you like to purchase your ride? I take credits, chits, or vouchers. Please state your destination, and deposit the required funds.”

  “Aberdeen Harbor, please. And I’ll be paying in vouchers.” Roxanne handed the required three hundred vouchers to the robot, some of the vouchers she’d grabbed from Leo’s vault, and sat back on the plush brown leather seat. The robot thanked her, and took off on level five, careful to maintain proper speed.

  “Would you care for chit chat, information on the daily news, a run-down of the current stock markets, or music?” the robot continued.

  “Give me the daily news for Tokyo,” Roxanne answered. Three minutes later, when the engine thruster came back on and the doors unlocked, the Biohazard van followed her, but it was not necessary. The second van was already waiting at the harbor.

  While Roxanne listened to the rundown on Tokyo, the usual swelling of wage inequality percentages, the continued attempt to save parts of Tokyo from the rest of the ocean’s rise, and the squelching of a small rebellion in Mibu, she checked her stash of weapons. She still had her two knives, a small handgun loaded with six bullets, and those diamonds, although those would be weapons of a different sort. She’d remained silent during the ride, careful not to use her bot-com because audio nano-drones were apparent everywhere, even in the limo back cab. The ride took fifteen minutes, too long, due to the same Buddhist funeral procession, running mid-street down Ap Lei Chau Bridge Road for three blocks. The Biohazard van caught up with her taxi, remaining just three limos behind, and one level down.

  She arrived before Rose, Darcy, and Michael, which was unfortunate.

  At about the same time that Roxanne arrived at Aberdeen Harbor, Leo had just sent a long series of messages to every authority in Hong Kong. He had considered the Hong Kong mafia, the Triad, but nixed that option for now because they usually did not get involved in competing industrial espionage wars; it was not an economically sound strategy for them.

  “Now I understand; my competitor over at Regen-stem snatched Roxanne in exchange for ransom. Oh god, I’d even give up my Stem-wads® formula to get her back. They’ve discovered my weakness. What will I do?” Leo was speaking to no one in particular, but the only other human in the room was Bitbuns, who appeared at a loss for how to respond. Finally she said,

  “You should wait for their bot-com, and then negotiate if she’s been kidnapped. Start low, maybe they only want some chits, or, you could exchange a fake or maybe even a slightly altered formula for Roxanne. They don’t know the actual formula anyway; no one knows it except you. Wait for the kidnappers to contact you. If nothing else works, contact the Triad; they deal in kidnaps all the time. For a fee, they may be able to negotiate her release for you.” Leo turned and looked Bitbuns directly in the boobs, because he came to that level on this new Max toy.

  “You are a genius, whatever your name is. You’re hired. Report to Human Resources as my newest assistant, as a level 3. Tell them to contact me if they have any questions. Oh, and check with costuming for something more appropriate.” Bitbuns was currently attired in one of Max’s signature red and white polka dot robes. She left the room with a smile, not because she wanted the job, but because she had succeeded at her mission assignment. The Master would be pleased.

  Max was at his penthouse during the search for Roxanne, busy hatching evil plans. He’d tuned in to the Homeland Security wave while taking his limo home for that much needed rest. The news forced some adrenaline past the plaques in a major artery. At first he thought Roxanne had slipped away from Leo’s building. But now he knew where she was heading. He took out his com and contacted his hit squad, in the Biohazard van.

  “This is Max. Are you hearing the reports? Well yes, she’s probably heading to Aberdeen Harbor. Don’t let her get away. Oh good, you’re following her, excellent. But I don’t want one of your usual scenes, too messy. Just kidnap her and do the job after, away from the press. We don’t want the press involved. They always make such a deal of lower level killings.” Max was speaking to his hired guns, also tuned in to the police wave. Everyone did it, but especially corporate legals and the Triad.

  While approaching Aberdeen Harbor, Roxanne was thinking how to obtain a more appropriate costume, or disguise. Her appearance wasn’t exactly unknown, due to Leo having splashed her bounty poster all over Hong Kong. She grabbed a blanket from the limo while the com voice warned her repeatedly that stealing from a robo-limo was in violation of the WME Inc. ownership codes, and that she’d be visited by the Property Police if the blanket was not returned.

  “Will you sell this to me as a souvenir? How many vouchers do you want?” Roxanne asked the robot driver. “The blanket, with its official Haul Ass Limo logo, sells at three hundred and fifty-two vouchers. Please deposit now.” Roxanne paid for her souvenir, wrapping it around her shoulders and over her head, in an attempt to hide her signature face. She stepped from the limo wrapped in a red blanket, and looking like someone very cold, oddly on a sultry Hong Kong sort of day.

  Roxanne was immediately set upon by five tall females in dark business suits, white shirts, and skinny black ties, wearing felt fedoras. As she fell unconscious from a ketamine dart and they hauled her into that other van, also marked Biohazards, she thought her attackers were either the Hong Kong Triad mafia or Mormons, and in either case she could be in deep doo-doo.

  “The mafia has her? Are you sure? I mean, what would the Triad want with Roxanne Smoot? They never get involved in espionage wars. Do you think they were hired by my competitors?” Leo had returned to his penthouse, and was speaking to the chief of police of Hong Kong, who had come to Leo’s Opus office in person, because Leo was his main campaign donor.

  “Mr. Songtain sir, we have no idea if the Triad is involved, but have spoken to their Don, who claims it wasn’t them. She’s checking this out with her underlings as we speak; she thinks it’s a maverick disgruntled offshoot of the clan. We’ll know in several hours.”

  “Oh, please find her. Make sure she is unharmed. Tell the Triad I’ll pay!” Leo whined. Now he knew she had not left him on her own volition; she had been kidnapped right out of that ladies room in his own building, possibly by the Triad. He was sure that was why they’d shot that assistan
t with a dart. They didn’t want to kill anyone; they only wanted money. It had Triad written all over it.

  The police chief knew of Leo’s obsession with Roxanne Smoot; had even helped put up all those bounty posters. If he could be the one to retrieve the Roxanne Smoot for Leo, he’d get as much money as he needed for re-election. By his reckoning, the chief would need about one billion gold vouchers to buy the election. It was so much simpler than last century politics, which actually depended on citizen votes; how Neanderthal! Thank god for that ancient Supreme Court decision. I mean, why not consider Incs as people?

  As the chief of police was planning out his election budget strategy, his bot-com chimed with a message…Roxanne Smoot had been grabbed up by a group of Fedora-clad thugs-lettes at the Aberdeen Harbor. He excused himself and took off for the scene of the crime, as Segev and his canine co-workers likewise arrived at the same scene.

  Michael arrived at Aberdeen Harbor just in time to witness several black-suited females tossing Roxanne into the back of a white Biohazard van. Rose went berserk; she had to be restrained by Michael who put one hand on her neck at a specific pressure point, thus rendering Rose temporarily immobile.

  “Not now, Rose…too many, too public. Follow them, both of you. Bot-com as soon as you find out where they’re heading. I can’t run your speed, but I’ll be right behind you. Do not attack them. They may harm Roxanne.” Michael released his pressure on Rose’s neck, and she and Darcy took off at a full-dog run, racing through traffic, taking short cuts through department stores and shops along the way, to keep up with the van, which was heading towards a private estate outside of Hong Kong.

  Segev ran to the submersible, where one of the rebels handed him a direct com line to Dorian. After he left Dorian a message, he hailed a hover-taxi and instructed the robot to follow the van in front, but the limo refused to take itself any further than within a mile radius of the Triad compound. Homeland Security had deemed it a no-fly zone, so he had to hoof it for the final mile, where Rose and Darcy were waiting, hiding behind a bush near the back entry station. Michael again tried to reach Dorian to inform him of the development.

  But Dorian was not answering. He was currently racing for time, to secure his com system before the satellite worked backwards and identified the rebel headquarters as the source of the signal.

  “Dina, the codes have been compromised; we can’t use them until I’ve checked for viruses. Some desert culling soldier intercepted my waves, out at Lone Pine, and he sent them on to Hong Kong Homeland Security. I am attempting to music code our offsite rebels to do damage control. But, I fear it may be too late for Roxanne and Michael Segev,” Dorian told his wife, who had just entered the music code room.

  “Segev will take care of himself. And speaking of Segev, he’s on com,” Dina answered from her control station across from Dorian. They were both trying to undo damage from the intercept. Once a satellite picks up a rogue signal, one not WME-originated, it will attempt to back send through channels to find the source. Then, an army of laser drones will descend upon the place and destroy everything within a ten mile radius.

  “Don’t answer Segev. Wait until he uses the music code system. Good; it’s done. I’ve re-waved through a false end out of Beatrice, Nebraska. As we speak, several hundred of those laser drones and another hundred culling patrollers are approaching the town.” Dorian wiped the sweat from his face, and got up to get cups of hot chocolate for him and Dina. It was not just his favorite drink; he needed the extra sugar for the energy, to recharge his bio-digitals with ATP.

  “Well, they won’t find anyone in Beatrice, Nebraska. You know that. We evacuated the place last year after that anthrax outbreak. They’re all over in Lincoln now,” Dina replied as she continued to send music codes off to New Zealand, Eldridge at bubble-stop #4, to Gimlet and Chad Yac at #5, and finally to the only other place she could think of who’d have a stake in kidnapping Roxanne, or in selling rebel access codes, the Triad. BINGO!

  24

  IN FACT, IT WAS BINGO NIGHT AT TRIAD HEADQUARTERS, and Ching Shih, head of the Hong Kong Triad Official Mafia Economic Enhancement Program had just won an ancient Tupperware® set. They were quite valuable, really; they were used as food and drinking containers, to store things, and as exchange items on the Blacks. Plus, they never, ever broke down. It was rumored they could still be found intact at archeological dig sites in the old dumps in the North American zone.

  Shih, who named herself after that famous Chinese pirate, looked up from her bingo card as three of her senior lieutenants entered the gaming hall. “What is it?” she asked, in her unusually low voice. Ching Shih hated to be interrupted during a bingo game, especially when she was winning.

  “We got her, my Dragon Master. We got Roxanne Smoot, the real thing. We nabbed her right before she reached the Aberdeen Harbor. It was not possible to utilize the client’s plan, to assassinate her at the Songtain Building. We had a malfunction with the van. The thruster jammed and the doors locked. The mechanic is checking it out as we speak. He’ll have a full report by tomorrow morning. We had to send in a second team. You will want to add that cost to the client’s final bill.” The first lieutenant bowed to his superior.

  “And where is this prisoner now? Has she been secured?” Shih asked, sipping her oolong tea.

  “The prisoner is out back, hogtied, and knocked out in the back of the van. What do you want us to do with her?” the second in command, the Vanguard asked, with deference.

  “Put her in the holding cell until my game is over,” Shih replied, examining her Vanguard with her one good, dark green eye, and then with the opaque eye, the one that moved all around when she focused. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Ching Shih had not won her position as Dragon Master of the Triad by her looks. Indeed, one might kindly say she’d greatly benefit from a visit to one of Leo’s Stem-Worm® Inc R&Rs, for a facial rectification protocol. She stood at just under six feet tall, was made of solid and mostly tattooed muscle, but the neck ended in the worst version of a head (and face), ever seen in the modern, post-regen world. What with facial implants and all, most got modified. But Shih preferred herself just the way she was, which made it all the more terrifying.

  “What do you want me to do if she comes to? I mean she does have that effect on males,” the lieutenant asked, trying to avoid eye contact.” “Just get some of the females to guard her. Now get out of here, or you’ll break my winning streak.” Ching Shih dismissed her guard with the hand missing two fingers, and smiled, showing more metal than one of those digi-dogs used in the currently popular robot greyhound racing league. She ran the back of her hand over her continuously runny nose, then wiped it on her sleeve, and hoped she’d win the next bingo prize, a light-weight hand-held DIY appendectomy device.

  Back at Donner Pass, Dorian had been tracking Roxanne into Triad territory. “She’s heading for Ching Shih’s place. It’s the Triad,” Dorian music coded to Michael, who, when he saw Roxanne being taken by what he supposed was Mafioso, got out his harmonica and headed for another nearby underground rebel hide-out, just down the alley from the Aberdeen boat dock, and right before he hailed that cab to the Triad compound. “So, a sat picked up the signal; how much damage?” Michael got to the point.

  “We’ve fixed it, Michael. The damage will occur to an uninhabited town in Nebraska. I’ll go into it later.” Dina was on the music code, and she and Michael Segev did not get along. Dorian was still in the other room, cross-checking the control command center for possible infiltration by viruses.

  “So, it will be a drone sandwich for Nebraska. Lucky you fixed it in time. I’ll retrieve Roxanne for you, Dina. But, I don’t have time for any more of your mistakes.” Michael Segev offed the music transmission before Dina could scream obscenities at him, which would have sounded really strange when sent via a keyboard playing Mozart.

  In one of the official Triad holding cells, Roxanne awoke with a smashing headache, knowing immediately it was ketamine. She swo
re at herself for getting captured. “Shit, where am I?” She reached for the bot-com in her boot, but noticed it was missing, along with her knives, her whip, and even the little pistol she’d kept in the sole of her left boot. The diamonds had been missed. Someone would catch hell from Ching Shih for that little oversight.

  “Maybe I can use them to buy my way out of here,” Roxanne mumbled to herself. She had an idea where she was. Before she lost consciousness, Roxanne spied Michael Segev with Rose and another unidentified canine in the alley near where the Triad goons nabbed her. She was at the Triad compound, outside of Hong Kong. And Segev would arrive anytime. Things would get terminally messy.

  “She’s awake, Master. Should I bring her out, or do you want to watch her through the glass while I kill her?” One of the all-female guards stood outside the cell, watching Roxanne through the one-way window.

  “Leave her in there for another hour. I’ve got to check something out first. Whatever you do, don’t let any of the men in there. Keep this place buttoned up. Nobody but me gets in. You got that?” Ching Shih ordered the Red Pole, one of the enforcers, then left to return to her office.

  “I’ve got to check some things out. First, what was Roxanne Smoot doing at Aberdeen Harbor when everyone knows Leo Songtain’s got a bounty on her, second, was she followed by anyone, and third, where can we get the biggest return on our investment? Find out those things for me, now.” Shih was speaking to her first in command this time. He was a hulk of a man, from ancient Mandingo heritage, and you did not cross him. He’d worked for Shih for twenty years; it was rumored they were lovers, although when drunk enough, and if not overheard, some of the other Triad members joked he’d have to put a bag on her head to get it up.