Liquid Cool: The Cyberpunk Detective Series (41 page)

BOOK: Liquid Cool: The Cyberpunk Detective Series
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But there was this cloud over me. Would gangs really want to hurt me? I was in Flash's hover-limo. No one in the public knew I was inside, so at least for the day, I should be safe. Then Flash told me that the hover-limo was bullet and laser-proof. Good.

 

 

Flash and I realized that if we flew up in the hover-limo and I got out, that it wouldn't take long for the media and everyone else to know how I was traveling around the city. Everyone was looking for my red Ford Pony, not a Let It Ride hover-limo. We did a combat-drop two miles away--he dove above the ground, I jumped out with a black hooded slicker over my clothes, and he flew away.

I walked through the rain towards my office with my head down and my hands in my pockets, but neither hand was empty. I had my main piece in my right hand and my back-up piece in the other. I had been shot at so many times, that I was betting on it happening today. Surprisingly, I wasn't as nervous about walking through the streets without any bodyguards. It was raining hard and I blended in with the crowds.

Across from my office tower
was another tower t
hat was fifty stories taller. I stood on the roof wearing Punch Judy's jet-pack, started it up, and let it lift me up, hovering. I was up and over. On the roof of my building I could see the army of sidewalk johnnies. One of them pointed at me as I flew near and then they all were looking. I could tell they were Phishy's people--all of them were wearing fedoras. Good grief! Now Phishy the franchiser would have everyone wearing my trademark fedora.

I landed, removed the jet-pack with their help, and quickly made it to the roof-top exits, with a bunch of johnnies following me.

"They're waiting," she said to me as I walked through the door.

"My high-level clients?"

"Take advantage of the pandemonium. Get all the paying clients in now. I've been offering a free official Liquid Cool t-shirt for all new clients."

I threw the jet-pack and my slicker on the floor. "I don't want to hear about it. Take care of these for me."

My sidewalk johnny escorts were shooed back out of the office by PJ as she closed the door. I walked in and opened my office door.

Him!

I instinctively drew my piece and pointed at his head. The seven other police officers around him drew their guns and pointed them at me.

"No, boss!" PJ yelled. "This is your client!"

"What? He's my client?"

"Yes."

I looked at him again.

"Lower your weapons," Police Chief Hub directed.

His men complied and I did the same.

 

 

"I could have shot you!" I yelled.

"I couldn't say his name on the open video-phone," PJ said. "He has the entire cop police force looking for him."

"And you invite him into my office?"

"I didn't invite. He came."

"Why didn't you tell him to leave?"

"He wouldn't leave!"

"Why didn't you throw him out? You have two bionic arms. Use them!"

I realized why she let him stay.

"How much?" I asked.

"What?"

"How much did he pay?"

"He paid the standard retainer and I gave him a free T-shirt."

I threw up my hands.

"Do I get to talk now?" Chief Hub asked.

"I'm not talking to you. And I'm not going to even be seen with you."

"I think if you let me talk, you will change your mind."

"Who are these other officers with you? I thought the rank-and-file want you in the meat morgue."

"They do, thanks to you. These are my sons."

"Your sons. You have seven sons."

"I do. All law enforcement."

"How lucky for you. Wait, weren't you shot? They said you were in the hospital."

"I was shot, thanks to you. But it was a minor wound and we used the incident to craft a cover story that was a lot worse, including I was bedridden, so I could move around freely."

"How's your boss doing?" I asked with a sneer.

"My boss isn't doing too well either, thanks to you. But he's not talking to me and I'm not talking to him, ever since he brought in those Up-Top bottom-feeders. Am I going to be allowed to talk about what I came to talk about?"

"Aren't we talking?"

"Not what I came to talk about."

"Then do so and leave. I have to go visit the widows and widowers of fallen cops."

"You're a real jerk muncher!" one of his sons yelled, pointing at me. "My dad had nothing to do with police getting killed, you lying skell."

"I'm on the side of the cops, what about you?"

Chief Hub held back his oldest son. "Stop it! All of you, wait in the hallway. I'll be out in a minute."

"He's not worth it," the son yelled. "Let him get killed."

"If he gets killed, then how will I clear my name? All people will remember is his lying prime-time interview."

Chief Hub pushed all his sons out of the offices and closed the door.

"Who's going to kill me?" I asked.

"Yes, who?" PJ asked. "If it's you, then I want my free T-shirt back."

"For such a clever guy, Mr. Cruz, you're a dummy. You're a marked man, Mr. Cruz. Metropolis is on the brink of collapse. Who wants that?"

"Your Up-Top friends," I answered.

"They are not my friends! They're the Mayor's friends. Weren't you listening? I'm not on speaking terms with the Mayor anymore. No, Mr. Cruz. The gangs want the chaos to continue so they can carve up Metropolis into nice manageable slices. It's the gangs."

"Yeah, I've heard that already. I'm already ahead of you, as usual, so you can go."

"No," the Chief said and folded his arms.

"What? I told you to get out of my office."

"Mr. Cruz, I'm giving you 24-hour security until this crisis is over."

"What, you and your seven sons?"

"My seven sons, me, and the cops from Internal Affairs."

I laughed. "Internal Affairs?"

"They're police too."

"But police don't think so. What are you trying to do? Ruin my rep with the real rank-and-file. No, I'm not talking any kind of security from you."

"Then who? These sidewalk johnny jokers you have around you like flies? When the gangs come, what will they do? Throw a hat at them? None of them are armed. Gangs, Mr. Cruz, are."

"I'll figure something out."

"What, you and your personal cyborg?"

"My name is Punch Judy! And I'm about to punch you in the head, stupid man!"

"You can go now," I said to him.

"You don't seem to get it, Mr. Cruz. One of the top animal gangs in the city has a contract out on you."

"What?"

"You know what a contract is?"

"Stop being offensive. What are you talking about?"

"Monkey Baker has a contract out on you. That means any...any gang member can collect on it."

"Who or what is Monkey Baker?"

"I know you are quite familiar with his crime organization. Monkey Baker runs the Animal Farm crime syndicate."

"I thought--"

"You thought Red Rabbit did, Mr. Cruz? The gang member you killed or left for dead. No, Mr. Cruz, he didn't run it. You have no one to blame but yourself. You went on national TV and announced to the world that one of the top leaders in his organization was on the payroll of the cops. In the gang world, that's the same as saying he is, too. He has to kill you or every gang will kill him."

I felt really queasy in my stomach all of a sudden.

"What's it going to be, Mr. Cruz? You want to do your perp walk alone or could you use some police protection? I don't care what you say because we're protecting you. You and I shackled ankle-to-ankle from this moment forward, you punk. You think I'm going to let you destroy 40 years of my police career without a fight? You will clear me in the eyes on my people."

"Okay," I said. "We start now. I have a hover-limo waiting. Let's go pay our respects to the men and women who are convinced you got their loved ones killed." I could see the toughness in Chief's Hub's face soften. "What's wrong? Not so eager to do your unwelcome police protection?"

"My son is right. I should let Monkey Baker have you. If I didn't care more about this city than I hate you, I would."

"Good, because I hate you too, you pompous bastard. Maybe I'll get to see some real cops shoot you again."

"Maybe I'll get lucky and get to see some gang skell punk shoot you. I hear you have quite the problem with strange people shooting at you."

"Yeah, they don't like my hat. Maybe they'll try to shoot me and hit you instead."

It would have gone on forever, but a smiling PJ said, "Can you two continue your conversation outside? I have a business to run."

We left and I later learned that there was another "high-level" client she wanted me to call but had forgot to mention the messages were on my desk. It didn't matter. The calls or meetings wouldn't have made a bit of difference for what came next.

 

 

On reflection, my combat-drop strategy was majorly flawed. It worked for Flash to drop me off, but what about leaving the building? Out into the rain we went--me, Chief Hub, and his seven sons. We could hide all we wanted with our hooded dark slickers, but there was all kinds of ways or people to identify you if they really wanted to. All we heard was...

"Hey, Cruz!"

I recognized the voice. I looked up and saw the Hippo waving and smiling without his animal mask, but with the black airbrushed eye sockets. He walked to me and I walked to him. It may have been centuries old but I saw the Godfather when I was a kid with my Pops. I reached him and flicked my wrist.

Pop!

Before he went down, I saw the flash of anger on his face as he realized that he wasn't going to be able to assassinate me so easily. The cyborg fell back and crashed to the ground. He yelled out from the burning hole in his chest. Then we saw them. These Hippos, all with their masks on, came out from the shadows with guns blazing.

Civilians scattered as the gang members took positions at one end of the street and we took cover where we could--close to the tower walls and low. Thank goodness for the rain and the steam from the vents. Hub took his position in front of me and returned fire like a maniac; I heard two Hippos cry out. His sons followed his lead, but two of his sons ran off. Based on what I was seeing, this was not a coward family and no cop in this city, even a scumbag like Hub, would run away like a scaredy-cat against criminals, no matter how out-gunned. I hoped they had a hover-car somewhere with laser machine guns in the trunk.

I looked up again and this time I saw it. People were jumping out of a hover-car onto the buildings. The Hippos had the firepower to hold us, but not overpower us. They were buying time.

"They're stalling for time," I yelled at Hub.

"So are we," he answered back and continued firing.

There are times when you see things that you've never seen before and it takes days to process it. The sky traffic above us just stopped and hover-cars began to descend to the ground. We heard doors opening and saw them. In all my years, I had never seen an entire sky lane of traffic stop and drop like that. The gunfire from the hover-cars almost cut us to pieces right there. It was a miracle that we weren't killed outright and that none of the bullets, laser beams, or laser rounds hit us. We scrambled back as fast as we could into what shadows there were.

Hover-car after hover-car landed and out came the animal gangs-- Jackals, Pigs, Lions, Unicorns, Snakes, Toads, Lizards, and others I couldn't make out. One hover-car zipped to a stop right above us with the door already open and a Monkey at a side mounted machine gun. I didn't hesitate and shot him right in the head. He fell over and crashed the ten feet to the ground. Another Monkey pushed two others out of the way and jumped onto the machine gun turret.
He was dressed differently than the others--they were all in chocolate brown suits; he was in a bright, white-silver one and tie.
Was this Monkey Baker, the head of the Animal Farm Syndicate?

I shot at him too, but hit only the turret. An explosion of gunfire erupted from behind me. I physically jumped, startled, and looked back. Chief Hub had a compact machine-gun in his hands. At least the scumbag was prepared. I looked back to see who I suspected was Monkey Baker strafed by bullets jump back into the hover-car, another Monkey fell out to crash to the ground, and then the vehicle blasted off and away.

One often played Cowboys and Indians as a kid with sonic toy guns or colored paint shooters. Everyone always wanted to be the Cowboys to defeat the Indians. This wasn't that. This was the Battle of Little Big Horn and I was General Custer and that meant I was about to get killed badly with all my men. The barrage of lighted gunfire from these deranged animal masked gang members was overwhelming. We were encircled by neon signs and neon bullets coming at us every which way. There were just too many of them.

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