Breakaway: A Cassandra Kresnov Novel (v1.1) (30 page)

"Oh shit," she muttered to empty air as the pain got worse, "I'm going to get you, you little prick. I'm really going to get you ...

More voices, getting closer, and she staggered back to her feet, desperately ignoring the pain as she staggered toward her pistol, lying on the floor amid stacks of crates and boxes. He evidently knew something about the CSA, too, in abandoning the weapon-no physical ID locks, but they did come with inbuilt trackers that could only be activated by an uplink signal from the wearer or their partner, and thank God for the latter provision in light of the SIB ...

She squatted, wincing in pain, picked up the pistol, checked and safetied it by reflex, in case the GI had subtly broken or bent some important mechanism. Discovered otherwise, everything appeared to work. Every movement hurt. Stabs of pain shot through her stomach ... combat reflex was wearing off, and when that happened, the pain came back.

"CSA!" she yelled, as footsteps rushed the doorway, training her weapon on the opening. The footsteps stopped prudently short, perhaps recalling the last time she'd announced those three letters. "If I see any weapons, I'll shoot first this time!"

"This is our fucking premises, you bitch!" came the harsh reply. "Private property. Do you snake morons even know what that means?" Snake ... derogatory street slang for CSA, she remembered. It was the first time she'd heard it directed at herself.

"Civil emergency!" she retorted, loudly enough to carry well beyond the immediate corridor. "Do you know what that means? It means you point a gun at me, I'll blow your fucking head off!"

Rushdial ... click-"Ari, I got a s t a n d - o f f here, I h o p e you've been f o l - l o w i n g what's going on ... "

"How d'we know you're even CSA? Where'd the guy go, huh? How d'we know your e-ID's not fake? You could be working with him!"

"Ten seconds, Sandy, I'm nearly there." He sounded out of breathimpossible he hadn't realised he'd gone the wrong way, if the GGs had detected that transmission burst, then surely Ari had. He'd probably reversed the elevator and come straight back down on override express.

On the surrounding net, police and CSA active barriers probed the electronic premises, erecting security barriers. Closing transmissions told of approaching vehicles, ground and airborne. Chatter asked for identification, situation ... Ari's codes, then, responding calmly, covering for her ... Pause from the corridor. Sounds echoed on full hearing enhancement, heavy breathing, feet shuffling, the electronic code of interlinked transmission and soft, muffled conversation ... the guys who'd leapt from the car were either from this particular gang, she realised, or from another gang with ties to this Yakuza bunch. She knew such ties existed, gangs here were about profit more than anything, mutual beneficial business relationships were the norm. They'd been cruising, seen their target fortuitously strolling toward friendly premises, and sprung an improvised trap to drive him inside. Bad move, as it turned out. Probably they hadn't known precisely what he was. They should have figured, considering his League codes ... and she remembered Ari saying the GGs weren't known for their criminal genius ...

"Sandy, can you get out the rear window?"

"Yes." A faint stab of midriff pain through the combat calm. "Why?"

"SIB on the way, among others, if we leave now we can claim hot pursuit ... he did go out the rear window, didn't he?"

"Yes." Ari had very good links indeed if he could track that. "I'll meet you out back. What about these guys?"

"I think I just convinced them. This place is as good as surrounded, they're not going anywhere. "

Zaiko, the next thought occurred to her. Hotbed of activity. Underground and mafia groups in close proximity. A techno haven. No doubt such proximity had been useful in the past, all such underground activity thrived on access to illegal technologies-the GGs for profit, Ari's underground friends for reasons of ideology and lifestyle. Now relations between the two groups seemed a case of familiarity breeding contempt. Another thing Ari hadn't precisely laid out for her.

She walked backward to the window, pistol not wavering from the doorway. Eased herself up onto the ledge, one-handed. Stomach mus- Iles refused to cooperate, shot uncontrollable pain and cramp through her back and legs. She hissed, softly, grabbed the overhead sill with her free hand, pistol still levelled, and glanced under her arm and down. A short space of backyard/garden, high-walled and green. A driving lane beyond that, with a heavy-locked gate for people access. Five storeys, straight down. Shit. This was going to hurt. The garden grass looked a little softer, so she got her feet on the ledge beneath her, and jumped gently outward.

Fell, turning as she went, extending her legs and tensing for impact. Her body not cooperating-that didn't feel right. The drop lasted a long time.

The impact smashed her knees up into her chest, which wasn't supposed to happen, the stunning shock ripped right through her body. Curled up on her knees, she fell slowly onto her side, gasping, in shock more than pain.

"Sandy!" Footsteps running from nearby, and a hand grabbed her arm ... dangerous, in her present state, but she withheld a reflex shove with effort. "Jesus, are you ... damn, you're shot. How ...

"I'm okay." Hoarsely, struggling upright with his assistance. Her legs nearly failed to cooperate, she felt weak and trembling all over. Pressed her free hand to her stomach ... there wasn't much in the way of capillaries between the hard stomach muscle and surface dermal layer, and GIs required very little blood compared to humans, but losing large quantities was still not a good idea. The shirt felt very wet beneath her hand, and she knew the jump hadn't helped. "Where's the car?"

"It's coming, I called it as soon as I got that transmission ..." Leading her by the arm, pausing briefly as his linkup codes overrode the rear gate, and swung it open. "... what happened? Lucky shot?"

"No." Ari, it seemed, had a very high opinion of her martial capabilities. She wondered vaguely if he were disappointed. "GI." Out into the laneway-high-walled to the sides and a long walk to either exit. Ari leaned her against the side wall, his own hand pressed over her own. She breathed deeply, pain returning as the combat reflex diminished, trying to loosen her diaphragm as breathing became awkward. "Smart one. Damn smart."

"How smart?" Thoughts racing at lightning speed through his dark eyes, a thick eyebrow furrowing. "Better than ... than what, a 35?"

"Ari, I have no idea." Breathlessly, half doubled over, backside to the wall, his hand steadying on her shoulder. "But he sure wasn't any reg. I think that whole job downstairs wasn't a five person team at all, I think it was just him." Remembering the speed, the dark shape flying down the corridor. Not as good as her, that was sure. But good enough.

"Damn League special delivery," Ari muttered, eyes even more intent. Thinking fast. That wasn't good. But she was too dazed to probe further. Sirens from the street out front, local cops first on the scene. "How bad is it?" Attention switching abruptly back to her, looking very concerned. "I mean, it didn't penetrate, did it?"

"No. Muscles stop anything low-calibre. But it beats the shit out of them." She tried straightening, and found that she could, barely. "I'm okay. Didn't realise those damn CSA toys packed such a punch. He'll be limping too, at least."

"You hit him?"

"Yeah, about three times in the thighs. Won't bother him so much, thigh muscles are isolated."

Ari stared. "Hang on ... if he's a GI ..." gesticulating with one puzzled hand, "... and he got enough time to hit you twice in the stomach ... he wasn't trying to kill you?"

"No."

"Then what ... ?" He was interrupted by a low, sleek vehicle that turned into the far end of the laneway, accelerating to zoom quickly toward them-police cruiser, blue with flashing lights. And she caught a sense of Ari's brief burst-transmission in that direction.

"Tell you later," she said, straightening a bit more to avoid unwanted questions from the police, zipping her jacket to hide the blood. The police car pulled up quickly beside them, two blue-uniformed officers climbing quickly out.

"You two all right?" one asked.

"Fine," said Ari, "you better get in there, we've got a lead on the guy that got away, we're going after him."

"You need backup?"

"No. Careful with those fools in there. They were expecting guests, they're armed but they seem willing to reason with emergency legislation ... but be fucking careful, and don't put your guns away for anything. Got it?"

"Got it." A can-do nod from both police as another two cruisers appeared up the end of the lane, closing fast. Then Ari's car, driving on auto.

"Come on." With a surreptitious hand on Sandy's shoulder, Ari led the way past the two police cars as they pulled up behind the first, then his own car pulled up, doors opening, and they climbed inside. Ari did a fast uplink to the navcomp and the car backed out the way it had come. Sandy half-collapsed in the chair, pressing hard with her hand and wincing in acute discomfort.

"What's up with those guys, anyway?" she asked, to deflect further questions as he glanced worriedly across at her.

"The thugs?"

"Yeah." With a hiss, shifting position carefully.

"Umm ..." He shrugged. "... just crims. Like crims anywhere, I suppose."

"They're allowed to carry guns around like that?" Incredulously. "Why don't you arrest them? I thought firearm possession was mostly illegal?"

The car reached the end of the lane and pulled out into a gap in the traffic, several more police cruisers waiting for them at the end, lights flashing. And accelerated away. Ari shrugged again.

"They work there. You'll never find weapons there normally, they always get tip-offs and hide them, and there's too much red tape in getting search warrants. Law gets sick of trying eventually and tries to bust them for something else." Damn infotech society, Sandy thought sourly. Everyone seemed to know what everyone else was doing. "Besides, they have their uses, we overlook the odd bit of black mar- keteering in exchange for information on the big boys or bad crims. We have inside sources, keep the small stuff contained and nail the big stuff to the wall. Priorities, you know."

Sandy gave him a dubious sideways glance.

"That works?"

Ari glanced back. "You're really going to have to get more precise with this vague terminology, Sandy ... I mean, um, works, for example, has multiple possible translations available within the, um, broader law enforcement lexicon." Sandy just gazed at him, unblinkingly. Ari coughed. "We keep the small stuff contained, generally, and nail the big stuff. Generally."

"I'm pleased to hear that. Generally." The car paused at a traffic light. It seemed a pointless inconvenience, in the circumstances. She wished Ari had an aircar.

"So what do you make of this GI?" A little tentatively, Sandy thought.

"The prick shot me." She was not, she felt, in the right mood to discuss it presently. "I'm not happy about it."

Ari blinked. "Well, logically, I'd imagine that might follow. What'd he look like?"

"Black. Where are we going?"

"Oh, um, I figured we didn't want a hospital since the SIB might track that ... and they probably couldn't help much, anyway ... so I thought a friend's place, just to patch you up. So ... African-black? Or Indian-black?"

"African ... Fucking Norwegian-black, I don't know. Which friend's place?"

"You wouldn't recognise the name."

Jesus. She was losing her temper now. That rarely happened. Being shot with her own weapon infuriated her. The way it had happened doubly infuriated her. The fools with their guns who hadn't believed she was CSA infuriated her. The fact that there were GIs in Tanusha again, breaking into places and stealing their databases ... oh, that was it, she could feel the anger surging, at that single thought.

"Fucking GIs," she muttered into Ari's continuing silence, as the lights went green and the car accelerated once more. "I hate fucking GIs."

Ari gave her another, tentative sideways look. "Surely you don't mean that?"

Sandy stared out the windows, and fumed. Silence was her only answer.

he awoke. Lay for a moment, in the darkened room, listening. Distant air traffic. Bustling city sound, faint and dreamy. Omnipresent. Like the sigh of a gentle breeze through forest leaves. A lazy, reflex hearing-shift, to finer detail. The whine of a maglev line. An aircar, a gentle throbbing pulse on some nearby skylane. Nearer sound ... music, and drums. From somewhere outside, neither close nor distant. The suggestion of laughter, and cheering voices, rising in faint waves above the city's gentle murmur.