by Riker Kane
“My name is Shannon Pitt. I’m a detective with the Santa Fe Police Department.”
“Shit…”
Max considered for a moment the possibility the man was joking. Even with the seriousness on his face, the old man could have been playing a part.
“You’re Max Shaw.”
Max held back his surprise and kept staring blankly into the older man’s eyes.
“Now we’re not strangers.”
“What am I doing?”
Despite knowing better, Max took a step back and let the man walk into his suite. The older man looked around with his hands in his pockets.
“Detective Pitt, was it? You want a cup of coffee—”
“Sure. Extra sugar.”
Max chuckled softly, not expecting him to accept his offer. While Max prepared a cup of coffee from the brewer, he watched the older man as he walked around the suite.
“This is a nice place you got here,” Pitt said. “Better than most. How much did it cost?”
“It’s not something I’ll be able to afford for a long time but I don’t plan on living here. I’m from out of town so I figured I’d indulge myself for a couple days.”
Pitt took a seat at the kitchen counter and set the manila folder in front of him. Max stood across from him and placed the coffee down.
“Extra sugar.”
Max watched closely as the detective slowly put the ceramic to his lips. A long, slow sip was followed by him sighing in satisfaction.
“I could’ve done something to that,” Max said.
“You could have… But you wouldn’t. I know you well enough.”
Max crossed his arms. “All right. You wanna tell me what the hell this is all about? Because if you plan on arresting me for something, there’s no need to draw it out.”
“I don’t plan on arresting you, Mr. Shaw. Quite the opposite. I just wanna ask you a few questions.”
“I’ve got no reason to answer your questions. I could’ve made you call your superiors to bust my suite down. I know the law. Even in a place like Santa Fe, you’d need probable cause.”
“Smart man.” Pitt slowly took another sip of his coffee. “But again, you’re not the type of man to do that sorta thing.”
“And what kinda man am I?”
“You’ve got a service record. You’re a survivor. Rio de Janeiro…”
The detective remained as calm as he’d been this entire time with the same blank stare. Max narrowed his eyes, holding back all of the questions he had swirling around in his head.
“I suppose I shouldn’t waste your time any longer,” Pitt said.
“It’s a little too late for that…”
“What are you doing in Santa Fe?”
“I’m on vacation.”
“Vacation, huh? There are a lot of nicer places to visit besides Santa Fe.”
“Transports to Mars are hard to come by.”
“That’s one option. There are thousands of others. But I think you came to Santa Fe for a reason.”
Max decided to play along with the detective’s game, chuckling at the line of questioning. “I’ve never been here before. Figured it’d be a nice chance to relax.”
“And does relaxing involved associating with known criminals?”
Max didn’t budge, calmly watching as Pitt placed the manila folder down on the counter. The detective pulled out three sheets of paper then pushed them in front of Max. It only took a second for Max to recognize them.
“I’m sure you know who they are,” Pitt said.
Max sighed softly through his nose but didn’t respond.
Pitt reached out his index finger and pointed at the first photo with the information right next to it. “This right here is Jackson Banks. Former pro fighter and martial artist before it was outlawed. And part of the reason fighting was outlawed was because of guys like him. He was ruthless. Violent. He killed two men before the referees had a chance to stop it. Did it with his bare fists. It’s fitting he found his place spending time in the Sanctum.”
“I guess that’s why they call him Slug.” Max picked up the photo of Venom’s personal bodyguard.
“Harvey Cole, aka Lotto, doesn’t have the physical prowess of his friend here but he’s just as violent. Loot abuser. Violent offender. In and out of prison. He likes to live out his fantasies battling with his ACE. To him, it’s not just a battle. To him, it’s a matter of trying to exert his will.”
Max set the photo of Slug down and looked at the last one. He read the name next to it softly to himself. “Myra Vick…”
“Myra’s smart. A brilliant scientist. But unfortunately, she decided to use her knowledge to develop designer loot instead of advancing society. She’s not Myra anymore though. Now she’s so deep into it, she’s just Venom. Understandable. She’s got more to gain from pushing loot than anything else.”
Max looked at Pitt in disgust. “Didn’t you say you work for Santa Fe PD? Isn’t it your responsibility to make sure people like her don’t take advantage of everybody else?”
“That’s right. And that’s why I’m here.” Pitt took another sip of his coffee. “A few days ago, we got a complaint in the Ink District. Someone got assaulted in a back alley. Some loot pusher. Said he was being questioned about the Disciples. Nobody really cared to look into it, so I did. Found some surveillance footage of some guy in a black coat. Mid-twenties. Medium build.”
“If you’re gonna arrest me for beating up a pusher, then arrest me. I won’t hide from it.”
“Santa Fe PD has better things to do than try to police random street fights.”
“From what I hear, you’re not doing much policing at all.”
Max’s comment was enough to get a reaction from Pitt. A slight twitch in the older man’s eye. It was subtle but it was there. And it was enough to make Max smirk.
“Then we got another report,” Pitt said. “Another pusher said he was trying to have some fun at a place called Neon Claws.”
“It’s a lot of fun. You should check it out.”
“Said some guy lumped him up in a private room and asked him about the Disciples.”
“Lemme guess. You reviewed the surveillance footage and saw me.”
“I’m the only one who saw it. It’s curious… I figured you were just a guy from out of town who got into a couple of scraps. Then I find out there’s some guy who fits your description making a name for himself at the Vicious Sanctum. And now he’s associating with these three people right here.”
The detective got up from his seat. His hands behind his back, he began slowly pacing back and forth.
“I got to thinking. There’s only one of two possibilities. Either this man is trying to get in good with the Disciples. And there’s a good possibility of that. A capable battler investing his winnings in loot could make some serious credits.”
“Or?”
“Or he, for some reason, is trying to get close to the Disciples because he doesn’t like them.”
“And why do you figure that, Detective Pitt?”
The detective stopped. His eyes focused on the floor, he contemplated his thoughts for a second before looking back up. “A man like you who survived Rio… I don’t think you’re foolish enough to throw away your life by getting involved with the Disciples. I believe you have good reason for doing what you’re doing.”
“All right then. Now you have to tell me what you’re doing here.”
The older man took a seat back at the counter and leaned forward. “I don’t think you realize just how serious your situation is.”
“Enlighten me.”
“The Disciples are just cronies. Foot soldiers at the bottom of a hierarchy spread across the Cobalt District. The people at the top. These people…” He tapped the photos. “These people are the GODs.”
“GODs?”
“They call themselves the Gears of Destruction. The most important cogs in a machine running the biggest loot grind in all of Santa Fe.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Because I’ve been running a small investigation for the Santa Fe PD.”
“Last I was told, Santa Fe PD aren’t exactly the ones to trust.”
“Which is why it’s a small investigation.” Pitt sighed a deep breath, seemingly more relaxed than he’d been this entire time. “The District Attorney is building a case against the GODs. They want a mountain of evidence. Assault and battery. Thievery. Loot distribution. Extortion and coercion. The works. They get enough charges, there’s no way they’ll be able to walk.”
“It shouldn’t be that hard. You know who they are. Just keep tabs on them and eventually you’ll have the evidence you’re looking for.”
“We don’t know who they are.”
Max shook his head in confusion and pointed at the photos. “They’re right here. You know that better than I do.”
“Vick, Cole and Banks. That’s three of the GODs. There’s one missing.”
Max put his hands up. “Wait a second. There’s four of them running the Disciples? How do you know that?”
“This investigation has gone on a long time. Sometimes the Disciples slip. And when they slip, they’ll do anything to get free. All evidence suggests there’s one more person. That’s where you come in.”
Max leaned against the counter and stared at the three photos while Pitt continued.
“You have to get closer. You have to find out who the fourth GOD is.”
“And then what?”
“Then we’ll be able to track them down. We can get them under surveillance. Once we have enough evidence, we can press charges.”
“Why don’t you just bring in the three you already have?”
“Because as long as one of them is still out there, what’s happening in this city won’t stop. I figure the one who’s keeping their identity such a big secret is the one running things.”
Max considered everything he was told. There was so much information to process and he wasn’t completely sure it was the truth.
“Why should I trust you?” Max asked.
“You’ve got good reason not to. And if you don’t, I can’t say I blame you. Santa Fe’s got a hell of a reputation. But we’re not all bad. This whole world might be going to shit but if we want to save it, we have to start with our own neighborhoods.”
Pitt took the photos and stuffed them back into his folder. He placed a small card down on the counter before leaving without another word.
Max stared at the card and saw Detective Pitt’s information scribbled upon it. He thought about it for a moment before grabbing his AllDevice and making a call.
“Hudson… We need to talk.”
~ ~ ~
Hudson leaned back on the sofa, his belly full as he smacked his lips. The aroma of fruits and supplemented meats filled the suite. Despite how much he’d eaten, his satisfaction wasn’t enough to take his mind off everything he just heard.
“Shit… You believe him?”
Max sat across from him, staring out the window. The view of the Cobalt District didn’t look much different from night, as clouds had already gathered to hide the sun’s brief appearance.
“He knew my name. He knew my background. All of the information on the Disciples was verified.”
“Could be faking it. Maybe he’s working for the Disciples. Trying to test you out and see if you’d rat ‘em out.”
“That’s a possibility. We have to leave everything on the table.”
“So what do we do now?”
Max turned back to him. “Plan doesn’t change. We came back here because of what happened to Sammy. We find exactly who’s responsible for it.”
“Hundreds of Disciples all over the city.”
“We start at the top and work our way down. All I gotta do is get Venom to trust me.”
“You said there was someone else. Another GOD. You got any idea who it is?”
“Could be anybody.”
“Wait a second… Didn’t you say you talked to a broker before? A broker who warned you about the Disciples?”
“Irving… He could be in on it. Anything’s possible. I gotta get the last person out in the open. Gotta get enough of Venom’s trust for her to tell me the truth…”
The two contemplated their next move. Max tried his best to ignore the frustration bubbling inside of him.
“You’ve got an ACE,” Hudson said. “Too bad you can’t use that to figure out who we’re dealing with…”
Max looked at the metal device resting on the coffee table. He kept staring at it when an idea suddenly popped into his head.
“Maybe there is a way,” Max said. “We’re going about this the wrong way.”
“How do you figure?”
“We’re looking for someone. No… We’ve gotta make them look for us.”
Max smirked as he played the idea in his head. It wasn’t enough to make Hudson smile but he still nodded in agreement.
“It’s your call, Max. You do what you gotta do.”
Chapter 18
Max stared at the platinum-blond sitting across from him. He only just noticed the tattoos lining the insides of her fingers as she tapped them together. She looked little different from the other times he’d seen her, her clothes revealing just enough of her pale skin though Slug was prepared to handle anybody who stared for too long. Her eyes locked on Max, Venom had her usual look of disdain but he was used to it at this point.
Venom’s suite wasn’t any more inviting. The lights were dim. The furnishings were sparse despite the space. Even the smell was something comparable to what Max experienced at Barb Wire.
He didn’t mind any of it. Not even Slug trying to stare a hole through him was enough to make him shift in his seat.
“I’ve been contemplating your next battle,” Venom said. “The brokers are intrigued by you. An outsider who’s proving himself capable.”
“It’d help if you gave me better competition,” Max said.
“They agree. You were an unknown. An underdog who people weren’t interested in betting on. The lines are still in your favor but we could just as easily move them back with the right challenge. Tell me, Max. How much of a challenge are you up to?”
Max didn’t hesitate. “I’ll fight anybody.”
A smirk came across her lips. The undoubted deviousness she was up to was enough to make Max hold back a laugh.
“I’m glad you feel that way.” Venom got up from her seat and moved over to the window. “We have interest in expanding our operation to the Sharp District.”
“What about the Ink District?”
“We’re trying to move all over Santa Fe.”
“Trying?”
“The Sharp District is a more delicate situation. Santa Fe PD is sitting on its hands like it always does. The right pockets are stuffed to make sure they stay quiet. That means the dealers in the Sharp District are free to do whatever they want. They’re reaping the benefits from the hard work we put into it. We’re going to make them pay.”
Venom stayed grinning as she looked out the window toward the cloudy sky.
“I suppose I have something to do with this,” Max said.
“Indeed. But it won’t be a simple matter of going to the Sharp District and beating up the dealers you come across. The pushers there are so scattered, it’s too much of a job for one person to handle. No, I have a more important task for you.” She turned back around and leaned forward across her desk. “You’re gonna intimidate all of them in your next fight.”
“I’m listening…”
“There are battles in the Sharp District. They’re not as refined, shall we say, as the battles in the Sanctum. These people fight in the streets. Not all of them uses ACEs. The only thing that stops them from being complete barbarism are the harnesses so no deaths are permanent. And even then, it’s a race to get the losers to a regenerator.”
“Street fighters don’t know what they’re doing. They’re reckless. Sloppy.”
&n
bsp; “All the more reason I have so much confidence in you. But there’s one group in particular who’s caught the bettor’s eyes. A duo who goes by the name of Nightblade and Emeril.”
Max scrunched his face in confusion. “That… doesn’t sound very intimidating.”
“Don’t judge them by their names alone. Nightblade isn’t unlike your android companion. He’s just as capable with a sword. Emeril knows how to use his ACE. They wouldn’t be so highly touted if they didn’t know what they were doing.”
“Nightblade and Emeril… I’ll beat ‘em.”
“Good. Because the battle is already scheduled two nights from now. Nightblade and Emeril have a lot of momentum, so the odds are against you. That means a bet on you means some good creds in addition to the win bonus from Reincarnation sanctioning the bout.”
“Now or never…”
Max looked Venom in the eye, biting his tongue as he waited for just the right moment. He stared long enough to make her furrow her brow.
“What?” she said. “What is it?”
“The credits are fine. But I know the credits from our arrangement are bigger than any win or Execution bonus.”
Venom moved back into her seat and sighed. “We’ve been over this.”
“I want more.”
“You’re fortunate you’re already getting three-percent.”
“I deserve more.”
“Deserve?” She arched an eyebrow. Her lips twitched like she was trying to hold back. “What makes you think—”
“You said it yourself. The Disciples are trying to move into the Sharp District. I beat Nightblade and Emeril, I get a bigger cut. Keep the win bonus. Keep whatever credits you’re betting on me. That’s what I want.”
Max held his position, his jaw clenched as he stared at her. The blond looked at Slug but the big man didn’t offer anything more than his silence.
“C’mon…”
The gears were grinding in her head. That much was clear to Max. And he was determined not to leave until she gave him what he wanted.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were up to something,” she said. “But a bigger cut of the loot is more credits than anything you can win in the arena. All right. I’ll give you a bigger percentage. Five.”