“Give me a moment, Detective Lin,” the AI replied. “I’m trying to stop the fire suppression from activating and smothering you two, and I don’t even want to talk about what they’re trying to do with the electrical systems. These are clever but terrible trolls I’m dealing with.”
Jia’s gun clicked dry as she shot another drone, but her last three bullets were enough to send it crashing to the ground. She pulled out a new magazine with a frown. “I don’t have a lot of these on me. I didn’t think we’d need to shoot down cargo drones.” She barked a laugh. “Then again, I didn’t think we’d have to fight a King sentry, either.”
“I better do double the work, then.” Erik held the trigger down and swept his rifle across several targets. The constant gunfire echoed through the storage bay in a deafening cacophony. He ejected and reloaded in one smooth motion to keep up his assault.
Fighting machines was relaxing in its own way. There were no moral considerations, no worries about clever tactics, just soulless equipment waiting to be destroyed.
“At least there isn’t a company that can complain about all the property we’re destroying,” Erik offered with a chuckle.
“That’s one bright side.” Jia punctuated her sentence with more shots. “It gets kind of annoying having to fill out paperwork.”
A drone crashed into another pile of crates. The massive containers rained to the ground, their impact shaking the floor, the sound harsh even with their eardrums hurting from the gunshots.
Someone ran between rows in the distance, the motion almost a blur.
“Well, it turns out we’ve got some non-drone friends in here, after all,” Erik growled. “I bet they’re not bulletproof.” He ripped through another drone with a burst.
One of the downed drones reached out with its arms, pulling its heavy body toward the detectives.
“Oh, give me a break,” Jia complained. “What’s this supposed to be, a zombie undead drone? Do I need silver bullets?”
“Isn’t silver for werewolves?” Erik asked, confused.
“Blessed bullet?” Jia emptied her gun into the drone.
The smoking, bullet-riddled machine collapsed with a heavy thud. The rest of the drones shuddered before also falling, their arms spastic for a few seconds before going limp.
Jia blinked. “I didn’t expect that. Not that I’m complaining.” She looked back and forth. She eyed her gun as if it had fired blessed projectiles.
Another blur zoomed between crates in the distance. Whoever they were dealing with was fast.
“I’ve fought my opponent to a standstill,” Emma explained. “I can’t gain full control of the systems yet, but I can keep these trolls from using the drones and other systems against you, and I can direct you toward Tomlinson’s PNIU.”
An indicator appeared in Erik’s smart lenses. He flipped his gun to single-barrel mode. “If he’s still alive, he can give us a better idea of who we’re dealing with.”
They waited a few seconds before jogging forward side by side. Each swept back and forth with their weapon, seeking targets, the training center practice paying dividends.
Heavy footsteps sounded nearby. Erik and Jia shifted until they were back-to-back.
“Any progress on internal cameras?” Erik asked.
“That’s irrelevant at this point,” Emma replied.
“I’d like to see who is in here.” Erik fired at a shadow zooming between crates, but his bullet missed and sparked against the far wall. Whoever it was, they were near Tomlinson.
“All of the internal cameras have been disabled. Today’s trolls took extreme measures. They managed to redirect power from the building’s grid to destroy the cameras.”
Erik and Jia crept forward, keeping their formation and their three-hundred and sixty-degree view.
“Why do that?” Jia asked. “Wouldn’t it put them at a disadvantage? It’s their system.”
“They might have reason to suspect we could use it against them. They might know about Emma.” Erik’s finger twitched as they approached a dark puddle. As they moved closer, he realized it was blood.
Kevin Tomlinson lay on his back behind a crate, staring up at the ceiling. There was a gaping hole in his chest.
“So much for getting info from him,” Jia muttered.
Erik grunted. “His killer’s still here.” He spun to the side when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
Two men stood on top of crates about ten meters away. They both wore bulky body armor with odd tubing. After they leapt to the ground with ease, the truth became obvious. The dark smooth surfaces and tubes weren’t armor. Every limb in their bodies had been swapped for a cybernetic replacement. The only obvious flesh was what remained of the faces wrapped in smooth metal.
“They aren’t just Tin Men.” Jia shuddered in revulsion. “They’re total conversions.”
Erik flipped his gun back to four-barrel mode. “You two really want to do this? Your little stunt with the drones failed, and I’m half-convinced you might know about something that really made me mad.”
“We’ve heard a lot about you, Detective Blackwell,” one of the men replied, his voice hollow and lifeless. His eyes were solid black. He raised his right arm, and a long, sharp blade popped out of his wrist. “And your partner. You’ve achieved impressive victories in your short time on the police force.”
Erik shrugged. “We take a dim view of people trying to kill others, is all.” He recognized the voice from the earlier conversation with Tomlinson.
“You have one cybernetic limb,” the Tin Man observed. His expression remained lifeless. “You didn’t use disruptor rounds earlier against the drones, which means you lack them. You cannot win against us. You’re just an inferior specimen clinging to your flesh.”
The other Tin Man jumped atop a nearby crate, his eyes glowing red. He clenched his metallic fingers into fists.
Jia scoffed. “You think we’re going to give up because of that speech?”
The Tin Man shook his head. “No, I think you’re going to die.”
He charged.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Erik jumped to the side and squeezed off a burst.
Bullets bounced off the armored chest of the cyborg, but the Tin Man grunted as one ripped into exposed tubing, red blood mixing with blue fluid. The Tin Man changed direction and rushed toward the narrow space between two crate towers.
He took a few more rounds from Erik, but the attacks didn’t slow the cyborg.
Jia didn’t hesitate and fired at the exposed head of the other Tin Man. He anticipated the shot, racing behind a crate. The bullets narrowly missed, striking his cover. She fired a few more rounds near the crate.
Her target didn’t pop back around.
The first Tin Man grabbed the top of a crate to yank himself up. Erik nailed the killer with a few more shots, but they didn’t do much damage as the Tin Man pulled himself to his feet and then jumped backward, disappearing into the shadowy spaces between crates.
“Got a little cocky, huh?” Erik shouted, eyes roving. “I don’t seem to be dead, Tin Man, and now you and your friend are the ones hiding. If you’re so tough, why are you hiding?”
Jia kept her weapon aimed at the crate concealing her earlier opponent. Neither Tin Man had fired at the detectives, which suggested they lacked guns. That gave Erik and Jia a small advantage, but that didn’t do much to slow her racing heart. If either cyborg landed a single hit, it would be enough to finish a normal human.
Just give me one decent shot, Jia thought. They’re tough, not invulnerable.
The crates rattled on both sides as the Tin Men ran and jumped from crate to crate, their outlines barely visible in the darkened storage bay. Erik held down his trigger to send a river of bullets toward the first cyborg. A few sparks danced as he struck his target, but unlike after his first attack, the enemy didn’t react.
Jia didn’t fire at Erik’s target. She concentrated on following the shadow of the second m
an as the two cyborgs continued to circle them above the piled crates. The cyborgs moved farther out with each loud, thudding step.
“If we split up, they might double up on one of us.” Jia sucked in a breath. “It’s annoying dealing with someone who is almost completely bulletproof.” She didn’t want to admit that she would have liked a rocket or grenade.
“No worse than a lot of bots we’ve dealt with.” Erik shrugged and reloaded, eyes constantly roving. “And we’ve got them on the defensive.” He nodded to Jia, then jogged toward a rattling crate tower. “I’m betting these guys are used to not having people put up much of a fight. Let’s finish this so we can go to the station and complain about all the reports we’re going to have to fill out because we had to shoot a suspect.”
“I’ve almost achieved control of the system,” Emma reported. “You just need to hold out for a few more minutes.”
Erik grunted and continued his jog. “This will be over by then.”
Jia fell in behind him, alternating her aim between sides but not firing. She didn’t want to waste bullets on armor. This battle might come down to a single round. The crates stopped rattling, and a resounding thud followed. It sounded like it had come from close to the floor.
Erik slowed to a walk and tilted his head to the side. Jia nodded and stepped away from him, sweeping in front with her pistol. If their enemies had taken to the floor, they might have given up on trying to separate the detectives.
That wouldn’t stop the Tin Men from both attacking one target.
She thought back to what Erik had just said. They might be armored cyborg monstrosities who had given up almost the entirety of their humanity, but they were also running. People didn’t flee when they felt they had the upper hand, and the enemies had weak points, including their faces.
Even a Tin Man with little flesh left couldn’t survive multiple rounds to the head.
All the time at the range and training with Erik had given Jia a steady hand, and she was about to show these Tin Men why the two detectives had earned their reputation against both gangsters and terrorists.
The first Tin Man ripped out of a hiding place a few meters ahead and zoomed toward new cover on the opposite side. The second man appeared from the same direction with a mighty jump. Erik pelted the first man with another burst before the Tin Man disappeared behind crates. The second man flew toward Erik with his metal fist cocked back, smug triumph on his face. Jia fired at him, but the rounds bounced off his chest and armored neck. She hissed in irritation.
Erik shifted his rifle and jerked back from his opponent. The point-blank burst sparked off the target’s chest as the Tin Man landed, yanked the TR-7 out of Erik’s hand, and tossed it to the floor. He threw a punch at Erik, and the detective threw up his left arm and blocked the blow. The hit stung, and if it were his other arm, he was sure it would have been agony.
“Surprise!” Erik grinned.
The Tin Man blinked. The detective pushed the man’s arm back and rushed forward to head-butt the Tin Man’s exposed forehead. Erik grunted and staggered back, but followed up with a quick right to the face before swinging his left arm. The thin layer of skin covering the cybernetic hand tore as it crashed into the Tin Man’s head and sent him to the floor.
Despite her pounding heart, Jia ignored the melee and kept her gun pointed at the crate hiding the other man. Erik could handle himself, even if he had just proven he wasn’t as hardheaded as he thought. The criminal’s compatriot was still out there, waiting for his chance to stab her partner in the back or rip her head off.
Erik shook out his bloodied hand and wrinkled his forehead. “You’re right, Jia. It’s a full conversion, even underneath. Artificial skulls.”
Jia shuddered at the revelation. Was a man human anymore when he was nothing more than a brain wrapped in metal and polymers?
The Tin Man hopped to his feet, his face bloodied. “You’re not a total fool, Detective Blackwell, but one replacement limb won’t be enough for you to win against me now that I know what you are.”
Erik smiled. “A cop?”
“You’re unarmed.”
“But you’re still not in my face. Wonder why that is?”
Jia jerked her gun toward a sudden movement. The other Tin Man crashed into a crate, launching it. His partner jumped back with a laugh as the huge container tumbled toward Erik.
He flung himself toward his TR-7. Jia focused on the falling first Tin Man. He might be fast and strong, but unless he’d had thrusters installed in his legs, he wasn’t immune to gravity. She had a window of seconds to take him down.
The Tin Man smiled as Jia aimed her pistol at him. A shot to the face wouldn’t do much other than hurt him if he had an artificial skull protecting his brain, not with the rounds she had in her gun. She held her breath, concentrating on the falling cybernetic criminal in front of her. Erik rolled as he landed and snatched up his TR-7, but she continued staring at her target, lowering her gun farther than he was falling and waiting for her chance. His partner rushed around the tumbling crate toward Erik. Everything receded into the background.
There was nothing but her pounding heart, her gun, and the criminal.
The falling Tin Man hit the floor and crouched, and Jia took her shot. His smile began to transform into a smirk as a bullet flew from her barrel toward his face. A single pistol bullet wasn’t a match for his armor, but Jia knew the armor wasn’t everywhere. Even if he had replaced other parts, there would be weak spots. The bullet ripped through his eye but didn’t come out the back.
He howled in pain and slapped a hand over his face. All those modifications, but he wasn’t free of human frailties.
Erik fired a full four-barrel burst into the other Tin Man’s face. Sometimes, like Jia, a person needed accuracy and careful aim, and sometimes a person just needed to throw enough bullets at a problem to make it go away.
The charging Tin Man groaned as a dozen high-velocity bullets ripped into his face. He tumbled forward and landed with a loud clang.
Jia’s target fell to one knee, gritting his teeth. He snapped up his head, still active despite his grievous wound.
“Can’t you have the decency to at least die like a normal person, you monster?” she asked.
“You…will…not…win,” the man snarled. “You are inferior. We are not.”
Unfortunately for him, now that he wasn’t moving, he was an easy target for a trained markswoman. Jia put three rounds into his other eye. He fell on his back, twitching.
The Tin Man’s partner managed to make it to his feet, swaying. Erik’s attack had turned his face into a mangled mass of flesh and exposed metal and tubing underneath, a living nightmare. Red and blue fluid mixed together as they dripped on the floor. He howled in defiance and charged Erik. Another burst from the TR-7 into his face finished him off. He spun before falling face-first.
Both bodies continued to twitch for several seconds before seizing simultaneously and going rigid.
Jia took a few deep breaths, her breathing ragged. “That was different.”
Erik shrugged, taking deep breaths himself. “They’re dead. We’re not. That’s what’s important.”
“Run directly toward Tomlinson’s body, but keep going until you hit a wall,” Emma ordered.
Erik and Jia didn’t wait for an explanation. They both sprinted, ejecting their magazines and reloading since they were unsure of what new threat Emma had detected. A hiss sounded in the distance, nearly drowned out by their heavy footsteps and ragged breathing.
“Keep going,” Emma goaded. “I believe someone is attempting to escape or dispose of evidence. Someone just opened a garbage vent. It was a low-priority system, and I wasn’t paying much attention to it.” She sounded apologetic. That was almost as rare as running into a full-conversion Tin Man.
Jia’s lungs burned. She charged forward with Erik at her side. They passed Tomlinson’s corpse as they rushed through the narrow passage between crates. The far wall grew closer with e
ach step, but they didn’t see the outline of anyone. No one fired a gun or threw a grenade at them.
No out-of-control drones dive-bombed them.
Their sprint finally brought them to the wall and a large, open circular vent. It could easily accommodate a fat man if he were insane enough to jump into a tower garbage vent. A guaranteed death awaited a normal person, but a Tin Man might be able to get away with it. Even then, it would depend on a lot of factors going their way.
Jia frowned. “You don’t have tracking on anyone else?”
“That’s not yet available,” Emma replied. “I estimate about sixty seconds.”
The detectives scanned the area for enemies but found no one. Erik approached the vent with a curious look and stuck the barrel of his TR-7 in, angled the weapon down, and fired a burst. Dings echoed up from the bowels of the vent.
He grunted. “I didn’t think it’d be that easy, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. I probably just jacked up the system.”
“That’s an easy fix for a drone.” Jia frowned. “But it had to be someone, right? Even if they threw something, that means someone needed to be there to do it.”
Erik nodded. “That makes the most sense.”
Jia glared in the direction of the dead cyborgs. “Then the Tin Men were just distractions?”
Erik shook his head. “Nope. I think they were supposed to kill us, and I recognized the voice of one, but they didn’t do their homework.” He tapped his left arm with his rifle. “If this were normal, that guy would have snapped it in half and been able to finish me off. Then it would have been two on one, and they would have killed you.” He stared at the vent, a determined look in his eye. “At least, that’s what they thought. That was another mistaken assumption.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know what it feels like to lose your arm, and I know you can still shoot a gun when that happens. There’s no way I was going to let them take you down.” A jolly smile took over his face. “But it doesn’t matter. We need to go get their friend.” Erik narrowed his eyes at the vent.
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