Black Knights, Steel Hearts:
Chapters 11 - 15
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The Bubble Gum Crisis OVA's (which this story is based on) are copyrighted
by Artmic Inc. and Youmex, Inc. I am just borrowing the characters for a little
while for non-monetary reasons. Serious CandC will be accepted, out-and-out
flames will result in a Boomer or two being sent after you, once they get around
to building them.
Please, enjoy my take on the Bubble Gum Crisis universe . . .
Chapter 11
Warehouse #41526584
Yokohama District
December 22, 2035
1:14am
"Where the hell have you been?" shouted Marcus Jackson when Knight One dropped easily from
the skylight to the floor of the warehouse.
Despite the lateness of the hour, the warehouse was ablaze with lights. Technicians were
supervising a couple of Knights into their hardsuits. Several other Knights were already suited
up, and ready for action. There was a somewhat controlled chaos in effect, and Greg was pleased
to see that everything was running well.
He raised the visor of his Knight One hardsuit, and gave Marcus a hard stare. "We've got
trouble."
"Tell me about it!" Marcus was furious. He was still in street clothes, not wanting to
waste the time to suit up unless he had to. "We lost three of our street operatives in the last
two hours. Hit teams nailed them, plus anyone standing too close to them at the time."
"I thought as much."
"What the hell is that suppose to mean?"
"I help take out the fourth hit team over in District Six less then an hour ago."
"Did they get our man?"
Greg removed the helmet. "No. Fargo got two of them, his contact with the Knight Sabers got
one, and I took out the Boomer leader."
"The team leader was a Boomer?"
Greg nodded. "And I'll bet that the other hit teams are also led by Boomers."
"No bet. What do we do now?"
"Call the rest of our operatives, and tell them to lay low for twelve hours. If they need
someplace to hide, tell them to come to MALCORP headquarters."
"Aren't we risking our own people by shielding them?"
"They are our own people, even if they are freelancers. I don't leave my people to twist in
the wind, you know that."
"I know that. But I'm convinced that the bad guys want us to do something like that. Aren't
we putting all our eggs into one basket?"
"I'll be surprised if any of them accept the offer. These are people of the street, Marcus.
They see what's happening, and I'll bet that each of them has a bolthole in case of trouble."
Greg strode over to a table sitting near the office. "Anything new on Janie?"
"No. And having to pull in our people isn't going to help."
"What's the status on the Rattlesnakes?"
"They're enroute. ETA thirty minutes. Figure another thirty to get them in here, armed and
ready for combat."
Greg nodded. "Where's Leon and Jeena?"
"Jeena's at MALCORP HQ. Leon's running down a possible lead."
"Call them in also. I want them here before two-thirty."
"Here? Is that smart?"
"Both Leon and Jeena know this city, and both know how to fight Boomers. And I'm sure Leon
knows more about the Knight Sabers then he's let on."
Marcus's face showed doubt. "We're clutching at straws here, aren't we?"
"We're running out of time. Janie becomes a liability once she's told them everything. The
fact they're coming after our people means that they don't have the complete plans for the
shield yet." He looked at the map tacked to the top of the table. "When you contact our people,
I want everything they collected on this job - facts, rumors, gossip, hearsay, or anything else.
They might be a lead in there somewhere."
"A weak hope, Greg."
"I know," replied Greg, not looking up from the map. "But it's the only one we have right
now."
Ri-san Bar
District 6
December 22, 2035
1:24am
The first thing that struck Leon was the smell of stale beer, followed by the stench of
unwashed bodies. He fought the natural instinct to wrinkle his nose in disgust, and scanned the
room for Skeeter.
He spotted his man at a back table, sitting alone and watching the people around him with
more then detached interest. The bar was filled with people, mostly locals who eaked out a
living doing jobs that were too cheap for Boomers to do. A few had the hard look of gang
members, while of couple of others looked as if they were Yakuza. The few looks he got were cold
and very unfriendly.
He ignored the stares, and started through the throng towards Skeeter. Besides a few sharp
elbows to the ribs and arms, he made it through in one piece. Once clear of the mass, he found
himself standing a meter away from Skeeter's table.
Skeeter Karns was a giant, well over two meters tall, and heavily muscled. The gray T-shirt
and bluejeans made him look like a bouncer, rather then the head of the local gangs. His hair
was cut close to the skull, his skin the color of old hickory, while his features were thick and
brooding, making him look like an imbecile. But his dark green eyes showed more then simple
intelligence.
"Leon," he said quietly, despite the noise.
Leon sat down across from him. "How's it going?"
The giant shrugged. "About as well as can be expected these days."
"I need some information."
"I don't give out information on my people, Inspector."
Leon shook his head. "Not your people. I need information on who kidnapped a fourteen-year-
old from her home in the United States and brought her here."
A thick eyebrow went up. "Since when did ADP get involved in the Janie VanDell case?"
"They're not. I'm doing some freelance work for MALCORP."
"Be careful Leon. MALCORP has lost several of their street people in the last several
hours, and I don't mean simple misplacement. Someone's headhunting, and MALCORP's people are the
heads they're hunting."
Leon nodded. "Thanks for the warning, Skeeter. What's the word on the street?"
The giant closed his eyes. "Whoever it is, it's not GENOM. Word is Quincy's ordered an
internal investigation of their own people to make sure it's not a rouge operation. There's a
lot of coded traffic between GENOM Tower and the other GENOM locations, asking for reports on
lost or destroyed Boomers for the last several years. One of Quincy's new Special Assistants, a
gentleman by the name of Faust, is handling the case."
"What about the other Megacorps?"
"Nothing obvious. What's the interest in a fourteen-year-old?"
Leon sighed. "Promise this goes no further?"
Skeeter nodded. "MALCORP's people on the street had no idea why Janie was taken."
Leon filled Skeeter in quickly, starting with the girl's kidnapping. The giant nodded
slowly, listening quietly to the report. When Leon had finished, Skeeter made a fist and stared
at the table, deciding if it was worth the effort to smash. After several seconds, the huge fist
relaxed into an open hand.
"You're telling me the truth?" he asked slowly. "That child was kidnapped and brought here
to retrieve plans for a lousy piece of equipment?"
"I am." Leon held up a hand. "Look, I know how you feel about kids. Everyone who lives down
here knows who was behind that new wing for the orphanage. Whoever took her doesn't share you
concern for kids."
Skeeter nodded, his face looking like a thundercloud. "I don't like people like that."
"I know. I also know that whoever took her is going to need a certain type of specialist to
retrieve that data. That's why I came to you. I need to know if anyone has recently come into
town, and who hired them."
"The best interrogation specialist in the city right now is a Doctor Yin Zin-Choon,"
Skeeter said in a cold hard voice. "He came into the city late last week. I heard that the Japan
branch of Gulf and Bradley hired him."
"Who's the current G and B Japan head?"
"Carlton Bradley. He's ruthless enough to behind something like this. His sister Cora is a
borderline psychotic. Together, they're serious trouble." He was silent for a minute, then
leaned forward. He said in a low voice, "Word is they've been gearing up for a shadow war
against Quincy and GENOM without the G and B Board of Directors' blessing. If they wanted an ace
in the hole, a force of Boomers with a force shield is one heck of an Ace."
"Makes sense. Too much damn sense." Leon stood. "Thanks Skeeter, I owe you one."
Skeeter glared at him. "If you nail the slug who's behind this, I'll considered us even."
Outside Niko's Pool Hall
District 6
December 22, 2035
1:58am
Daley Wong got out of the police car slowly, feeling the effects of only six hours sleep in
the last thirty-six. I hate this job.
The area surrounding him was alive with police, fire, and rescue personnel. Something
covered with a sheet lay in the middle of the street. From the shape outlined under the bright
yellow plastic, Daley knew it was a body. On the far side of the street, firefighters were in
the process of putting the last glowing embers of a large fire that had consumed most of the
first floor of an abandoned building.
He tried to stifle a yawn, failed, and looked around for the senior detective. He spotted
the man talking to a small group of N-policemen near the shattered door of a poolhall. He strode
over causally and waited until the discussion broke up.
"OK, Rubin," said Daley, not bothering to stifle another yawn. "What have you got that so
important that you interrupt my beauty sleep?"
Lieutenant Rubin Mindoro was a short, compact man with deeply tanned skin, sharp features,
and an annoying cheerfulness that grated on Daley's nerves most of this time. When he turned and
smiled at Daley, the ADP inspector felt his temples start to throb.
"You'll like this, Daley," he said optimistically. "It's right up ADP's alley too."
"What have you got?"
"Three bodies, all male. Two inside Niko's poolhall here." He motioned to the shattered
door near where he was standing, then pointed to the sheet covered body out in the street. "And
one there. All three known thugs, all three carrying serious firepower, and all three as dead as
my hopes of dating Vision."
"So?"
He motioned to the burnt out doorway across the street. "We have a fourth set of remains
scattered across the street over there. The remains are not human."
"Boomer?"
Rubin nodded gleefully. "You got it. There's not much left of it, but it looks like it was
a C-Class, armed like the other three."
"But Boomers don't usually explode unless they have help."
"This one had help, in the shape of a compact missile with a armor piercing warhead."
"Oh?"
"And none of the other bodies happen to have a rocket launcher lying around when we found
them."
"Looks like they were on the loosing side."
"I can see why they promoted you, Daley. Nothing escape your eagle eyes."
"Can the good cheer, Rubin," growled Daley. "What do you have on the winners?"
"Less then we have on the losers. We know there was more then one, They are better then
average shots, and they have a rocket launcher. That's about it." Rubin thought for a moment,
then said, "We had some early reports of a Boomer, or someone in a hardsuit, heading west via
the rooftop. We tried tracking down something more solid, but no dice. Our boy disappeared like
a ghost in the rooftops."
"What do the people in the poolhall say?"
"According to the owner, he closed up at ten o'clock. He has no idea what happened."
"Of course, you don't believe him."
"Of course not. But he's not going to give us anything unless we beat it out of him."
A low buzz interrupted the conversation. Rubin reached for his phone, pulled it out and
said, "Mindoro here. It's your dime."
He listened for several minutes, giving Daley the opportunity to walk over and look inside
the pool hall. The place was a shambles, the result of what look like a small war. Several of
the pool tables were torn apart by bullets, as well as most of the lamps and mirrors. A pair of
plastic sheets covered the forms of the two victims, or rather the losers.
"Daley!" shouted Rubin. "We got more problems!"
"What?"
"This wasn't the only attack tonight." Rubin had lost his cheerfulness. "There were three
other attacks, and there were more successful then this one was. MO was the same - two man hit
team, with a two man backup. Time to go down about the same time, too."
"Who were the victims?"
"A trio of freelancers, plus maybe another dozen people who were at the wrong place at the
wrong time. These guys weren't too careful about who was near their target. But their victims
didn't go quietly - the morgue has a couple of extra stiffs who made the same mistakes these
boys made."
"Any idea who the freelancers were working for?"
Rubin shook his head. "But there's been rumblings on the street involving some big name
corps."
"Damn. If this is a Corpwar, we're way out of our league. What ever happen to the easy
cases?"
"Disappeared about the same time as the Dodo bird." Rubin managed to look more cheerful.
"I'll send the Boomer pieces over to the ADP lab for the technerds to sift through."
"Thanks. I'll put two ADP Tac teams on standby in case our friends go for a second round."
"I'm not as worried about the hit teams as I am about the winners of this fight. You don't
find people carrying around rocket launchers everyday."
Daley looked at him. "Unless they're a Boomer, or a person in a hardsuit."
"Our ghost?"
The redhead shrugged. "Seems like it. Hell of a coincidence if your rooftop ghost had
nothing to do with this."
"Maybe the Knight Sabers were here."
"I don't think so." Daley ticked off his points finger by finger. "First, the Knight Sabers
work as a team - they don't do solo work. Second, they don't make it a habit of carrying rocket
launchers. Third, Knight Sabers don't go around killing people, even these lowlives."
Rubin nodded. "And fourth, the Knight Sabers don't use weapons that need nine and ten
millimeter pistol rounds."
Daley arched an eyebrow. "You're a sadistic bastard, Rubin. You know the Knight Sabers
weren't behind this."
Rubin grinned. "But it's nice having my opinions backed up by an senior ADP official. Makes
my job easier."
Daley sighed. "Anything else?"
"Nope. You better get those Tac teams ready to roll. I think this was only round one of
what could be a real nasty slugging match."
"And were stuck in the middle. Wonderful."
"Come on Daley, this is what they're paying you and Leon the big bucks for."
"In that case, I want a raise."
Rubin laughed. "That's the sprit. Speaking of which, where is your partner?"
"On vacation."
"Pick a hell of a time to take it."
"You're telling me." Daley turned and walked away. "I'd better get going before round two
gets underway."
As he climbed back into his car, Daley had only one thought. Damn it Leon! Where the
hell are you?
Chapter 12
Tinsel City
December 22, 2035
2:37am
This area of the MegaTokyo central district was a maze of bars, nightclubs, restaurants,
strip joints, and other businesses that thrived at night. It was strictly an adult's playground,
where those who had the money could find someone to supply pleasure.
So, the sight of a young girl running through the late night crowds was more then an usual
event. It was shocking, even to those who made their living off the need for pleasure. What was
even more disturbing was the pair of large men in business suits who were pursuing the girl.
While the girl slipped and dodged with some skill through the crowd, her pursers were less
conscientious, shoving everyone between them and their quarry out of the way.
The girl looked to be in her early teens, with long brown hair and an expression of pure
terror on her lovely face. The clothes she wore, a dress and blouse reminiscent of a school
uniform, were torn and stained. She didn't bother to scream or to seek help in one of the
businesses, but continued to run through the crowd.
Her pursers were gaining, their tactic of bulldozing though the crowd more successful then
the girl's. Finally, the girl tripped on a protruding slab of concrete, and fell heavily. Before
she could scramble away, the two men reached her.
As one, they reached down and grabbed the girl by her arms. For the first time, she
screamed. The two men ignored her cries, and hauled her to her feet. Still screaming, the girl
struggled, but the men didn't release their hold. Without a word, they turned and started to
drag the girl back in the direction they had come.
A police officer spotted the incident, and pushed his way though the crowd toward the trio.
"Hold it!" he shouted, drawing his sidearm from its holster. "You two! Freeze right there! I want -"
The trio stopped. One of the men holding the girl calmly drew a large caliber pistol from
under his jacket and shot the police officer several times. As the officer fell, the man shot
several of the onlookers. As the crowd scattered in confusion and terror, the two men continued
to drag the girl towards a car idling on a sidestreet, with its rear door open. The girl
continued to scream and fight, but the men ignore her.
One man climbed into the back seat, dragging the girl in after him. At the same time, the
other man watched for any signs of pursuit. Satisfied there was none, the second man waved to a
car idling twenty meters up the street before he joined the first man in the back seat. The door
closed, and the car pulled out into the traffic, followed by the second car.
They quickly disappeared into the heavy traffic, leaving a horror scene behind them.
Gulf and Bradley - Japan Headquarters
MegaTokyo, Japan
December 22, 2035
2:41am
Carlton Bradley watched the small blinking lights on the large map as the two cars drove
away from Tinsel City, heading towards the Coastal highway. Cora stood next to him, her eyes
bright with excitement as she watched her plan go into motion. Ozu stood behind them, his face
impassive as he watched the blinking lights.
A tech looked up from his console. "First phase of the operation has been completed. Decoy
team has left the area."
Another tech called out from another station. "Police report that the Boomers killed four
people, wounded five more. One of the dead is a N-policeman."
Cora smiled. "Excellent," she purred, looking at her brother. "Better then I'd hoped for."
"Really?" asked Carlton mildly.
"Of course, Brother dear. A dead policeman will definitely keep the ADP's communication
requencies humming. It'll help draw out our enemies that much quicker." She then turned back to
the screen and said, "Where are response teams Able and Baker at this minute?"
A tech pushed a button, and two more lights appeared on the board, one some distance in
front of the two cars, the other trailing. "Team Able is two point three kilometers in front of
the decoy team. Team Baker is three point one kilometers behind the decoy team."
Cora nodded. "Communications, I want both response teams to move closer to the decoy team.
No more then one and a half kilometers from the decoy team, no closer then a kilometer. Remind
them that they are not to move in unless I give the word."
"Orders transmitted." There was a pause, then "Response teams are complying with the
orders."
Cora shuddered with delight. "Now, we wait, dear Brother."
Coastal Highway
District 6
December 22, 2035
2:54am
Priss was beyond disgusted; she was really angry now. Angry, and more then a little
worried. No one had seen Leon in nearly eighteen hours, and she knew that was unusual for him.
She even tried to track down Skeeter, one of Leon's main underworld contacts, but the big guy
had faded into the background.
After striking out at Skeeter's normal hangout, Priss decided to call it a night. She was
too tired to continue, plus she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. So, she was headed
back to her trailer for several hours of slumber.
The blast of an air horn behind her startled her. She quickly pulled over, just as a large
semi barrelled through where she had been scant seconds before. The passing wave of air came
close to knocking her off her bike, and she stayed on by the skin of her teeth. She slowed down
and glared at the receding lights of the truck.
What is that guy's problem? she thought angrily. And where the hell is he going
in such a hurry? She glanced behind her, looking for any signs of pursuit, police, or
otherwise. The only other vehicles in sight were a pair of dark cars coming up fast. Another
tractor trailer a kilometer behind the cars paced them.
Under her helmet, Priss frowned. Something's going on. I can feel it. But what?
She drifted over to the far lane, giving the cars and truck a clear lane. Opening the
throttle, she sped up, keeping her speed just below that of the approaching vehicles. She
watched the cars slowly overtake her in the bike's rear view mirror.
They were typical company cars - nondescript, dark gray in color, with tinted windows.
Something in the back of Priss's mind whispered that there was something wrong here, but she
couldn't consciously pinpoint the source of her uneasiness. She watched them pass, and her
uneasiness grew.
She heard the sound of a motor, and she looked up and behind her. An ADP vehicle, a one man
patrol chopper, was approaching the highway from the direction where the cars had come from.
Coming in fast and low.
It shot over the cars at a high rate of speed, then pulled up and away. Priss slowed and
watched the chopper turn and come back towards the two cars, flying higher
and slower this time.
Hot dog, thought Priss sourly. Why don't you-
A sunroof in the first car opened and a man in a business suit stood up inside the car.
Priss's experienced eye told her that the man wasn't human, but a Boomer in disguise. She cursed
to herself when she'd realized the Boomer held a rocker launcher, and was aiming it at the
oncoming chopper.
The pilot must have seen the rocket launcher at the same instance, because he pulled up
quickly, trying to put distance between him and the rocket launcher. Despite the car's speed,
the man in the car tracked the chopper with cool precision, waiting for the right moment.
As the chopper reached for altitude the man fired the rocket launcher. The rocket sped
away, its engine lighting up the night. The chopper tried to twist away from the rocket, but the
missile readjusted its track and closed in on the ADP vehicle. Priss saw several small canisters
fall from the chopper, and explode with a shower of glittering strips. The rocket ignored the
chaff, and pass through the strips and closed in on the chopper.
The explosion lit up the night in a way a simple rocket engine couldn't. A blossom of fire
and smoke opened several hundred feet above the city. The wreaked chopper plunged to earth,
leaving a trail of fire and debris in its wake.
Priss tore her gaze from the dying chopper just in time to see the two cars speed up and
pull away from her. She lowered herself onto her bike to present as small a target as she could,
in case someone in the cars decided she was next.
Son of a Bitch, she thought. I've got to alert Sylia.
She reached for the small pager Sylia insisted they Knight Sabers all wear and activated
it. Hopefully, Sylia would realize something was wrong, and act accordingly. In any event, Priss
had to keep trailing the two cars, and hope for backup soon.
Chapter 13
Sylia's Apartment
December 22, 2035
2:56am
Sylia stood at the window of her apartment, an almost full cup of coffee in her hands.
Outside, the city was almost asleep, a slumbering giant in the darkness. She watched the lights
of the few cars that were on the street, her thoughts on a street she'd been on less then four
hours ago.
She couldn't sleep. The entire incident replayed itself in her mind repeatedly....
...Without thought, she turned and started tracking the closer of the two figures running
towards her. They had appeared from an alley half a block down the street. In the dim light, all
Sylia could make out was they both males, wore the worn clothing of street people, and carried
assault rifles.
The N-Police on some type of raid? she thought. Where are the sirens, and the
uniformed officers?
"AD Police!" she yelled at them. "Identify yourself!"
The nearer figure stopped fifty meters away, snapped the assault rifle he carried to his
shoulder and opened fire. The muzzle vomited flame, and a high pitched ripping sound started.
Damn! That answers my question! Sylia dropped to one knee and fired twice, the flat
crack of her pistol startling in the once silent night. Her target folded over and collapsed,
the rifle falling out of his hand and clattering on the street. Without pause, Sylia started
tracking the other target. Before she could fire, the figure threw himself into a darken
doorway thirty meters down the street from her....
She shivered, and sipped the lukewarm coffee. What's wrong with me? she thought
savagely. The bastard tried to kill me! Why am I wondering if I did the right thing? Or am I
wondering how I managed to kill him without thinking about it?
She turned to look at the envelope Fargo had given her. It laid opened on the table behind
her, forgotten for the last half hour. The contents consisted of a single sheet of paper, neatly
typed. She picked it up and read it again.
Knight Sabers,
Forgive this clumsy way of contacting you, but it is necessary for everyone
concerned. I am the leader of a group like yours, a mercenary team with access
to hardsuits. Business has forced us to come to MegaTokyo. Be assured that you
are not our target in any way, shape, or form. We also do not knowingly work for
GENOM, and never will.
Also, be assured that the object we are here to retrieve is the property of
our employers, that was stolen from them several days ago, and we have every right
to reclaim the object for our employers. I will personally guarantee the object
in question will never be directed towards you. In fact, if we do not retrieve the
object, it could affect the future efforts of your team in this city.
Thank you for your time and trouble,
Knight One, The Black Knights.
She shook her head slowly as she put it down on the table. The letter read as part business
letter, part challenge, and part plea not to interfere. From what she'd learned over the last
day or so, it appeared that MALCORP didn't trust the Knight Sabers. Yet, someone knew enough to
find her regular contact, pass along the letter, then follow him to the meeting site.
She went over to the couch, and sat down. Somehow, Knight One knew her name. She replayed
the conversation in the pool hall in her mind, trying to remember if Fargo mentioned her name at
any time. Their entire conversation might have been overheard, with the Knight doing the
listening.
After several minutes, she frowned. Fargo hadn't used her name at anytime during the
meeting. The only time he'd use it was after the meeting, when he'd charged out of the poolhall
- after Knight One had called her by namme twice.
She thought about the conversation the three had after the Knight had landed in front of
them. Strange, the Knight didn't say her name after Fargo came out into the street, referring to
her only as Fargo's `contact'. As if the Knight didn't want Fargo to know what had happened.
She closed her eyes and tried to put it altogether. On the table in front of her, a small
light on her Knight Saber transmitter was blinking on and off rapidly.
Warehouse #41526584
Yokohama District
December 22, 2035
2:55am
Leon looked the warehouse dubiously as Jeena stopped the car near the small entrance door.
"Nice place."
"Don't blame me," replied Jeena, as she turned off the engine. "All Mr. Mallory told me was
find you and bring you here. I'm as much in the dark on what he wants as you are."
They both got out of the car. Leon pulled out his pistol and double checked the cylinder.
Jeena did the same, each taking a small comfort in the ritual.
"Ready, Partner?" asked Leon.
"I'm always ready."
"Fine," said a voice from the darkness nearby. "Now, if you're finish acting like cowboys,
Mr. Mallory wants to see you right this minute."
Two forms loomed out of the shadows. The low light glinted off burnished black armor with
dark gold highlights. A small insignia - a black knight's head on a gold shield - was on the
hardsuit's right breast.
Leon found himself reaching for his pistol before one of the newcomers raised a hand.
"Don't bother, Inspector," said the same voice who had spoken from the darkness. It was a female
voice, but electronically distorted to disguised it. "Your firearm would not be effective
against these hardsuits."
Leon slowly brought his empty hand out of his coat. "The Black Knights?"
The Knight nodded. "I see you've heard of us."
"I make it a point of knowing all the major mercenary outfits. You're working for MALCORP?"
"At the current time. This way."
With the spokesperson leading the way, the four of them entered the warehouse through a
door hidden in the shadows. Inside, there was a great deal of activity, as at least dozen people
were working on reading for something. Leon saw several other hardsuited members of the Black
Knights moving around,while a couple of others were being assisted by technicians wearing gray
overalls. Several more were sitting at several tables loaded with electronic equipment. Still
other technicians were working on a trio of ugly looking helicopters. A small group of grim
looking people were standing around a small table placed just outside the warehouse's office.
Greg Mallory looked up as Leon and the others approached them. "You finally got my
message?"
Leon nodded. "I turn up a possible lead on Janie just before Jeena found me."
"It took me some time to find him," said Jeena causally. "I'd forgotten how many places
there are down in that neck of the woods."
Mallory was dressed in a gray jumpsuit, with a holstered pistol on a belt around his hip.
"No time for beating around the bush. What have you got?"
"One of my sources told me that Gulf and Bradley Japan brought in a Doctor Yin Zin-Choon
late last week. He's a specialist in informational retrieval."
"I've heard of him. What else?"
"That the local head of G and B is itching for a fight against GENOM."
"Carlton Bradley?"
"And his sister too."
"Damn." Mallory looked down at the table. "Someone's been moving against the freelancers
MALCORP hired to find Janie."
Leon nodded. "That's what my contact told me. I -"
"Sir!" shouted a technician sitting at one of the tables. "There's been an incident in
Tinsel City. At least five people dead, and there's reports that it all started with two guys
chasing a girl matching Janie VanDell's description."
Mallory's head turned towards the technician. "I want confirmation as soon as possible." He
looked at one of the men standing around the table. "How long until the Rattlesnakes are ready?"
"Ten minutes."
"You have five."
The man nodded and sprinted off towards the helicopters, his voice sharp and demanding. The
technician monitoring the Police communications spoke up again. "The report is confirmed, sir.
Also, the ADP just had one of their patrol chopper shot out of the sky. He was tracking two cars
that matched the description of the ones seen in Tinsel City."
"Last know locations of the cars?"
"Coastal Highway, District Six."
"Less then ten kilometers away by air," muttered Mallory, looking down at the map before
him. He turned and shouted "All Knights! Suit up and get ready to move out!"
The small knot of people around him dissolved as they moved away from the table. Mallory
unhooked the gun belt around his waist and placed it on the table. He looked up at Leon and
Jeena while he started unzipping the jumpsuit. "Either one of you have gunnery experience?"
"We both do," said Jeena quickly. "Aerial and ground."
"Good. Rattler Two and Three need experienced gunners. It seems our regular gunners both
come down with a bad case of food poisoning. Go over and get a quick rundown on the weapon systems."
Jeena nodded, and strode off. Leon stood and watched his new boss. Mallory finished strip-
ping off the jumpsuit. He was wearing a tight fitting suit that Leon reconized as innerwear
for a hardsuit pilot. "You're going out with the Knights?" he asked.
"No, I'm going to lead the Knights out there," said Mallory defiantly. "And I know what I'm
doing. Who do you think formed the Black Knights to begin with?" He motioned with his head
towards the helicopters. "You'd better get going. It's an even bet this entire event is a trap
designed to draw us out into the open. If so, we're going to need everyone to survive this."
Leon nodded and jogged towards the Rattlesnakes.
Chapter 14
Above District 6
December 22, 2035
3:15am
The Knight Wing was flying high and fast, passing through the air above MegaToyko like a
giant bat. Mackie was in the pilot's seat, guiding the aircraft towards the target. Linna,
Sylia, and Nene in the cargo bay, making their last system checks. There was an air of tension,
mostly because of Priss's distress signal, but in part because of the chatter on the ADP
channels. It wasn't clear what was happening yet, but the ADP had already lost a patrol chopper,
which meant trouble.
Sylia had her visor up, but her thoughts were still scattered. Back at her apartment, it
had taken several seconds for the low tone of the emergency beacon to register before she res-
ponded. But, once she did, she allowed the training and familiarity to take over.
She glanced at Linna. She'd been the first to arrive, just as Sylia had bought all the
hardsuits on line. There hadn't been any conversation between the two of them as they suited up,
for which Sylia was grateful. She still felt unfocused, and she needed every minute before they
reached the area to pull herself together.
"ADP's bring up three more patrol choppers to track the vehicles," said Nene from the
communications console. She and Mackie had arrive together ten minutes after Linna. With their
clothes in disarray, they tried to maintain a disinterest in each other, but only succeeded in
looking equal parts guilty, angry, and nervous. If the situation hadn't been so serious, Sylia
might have smiled about it.
"Nine minutes to Priss's tracker, Sis," said Mackie. "It looks like she's still on the
Coastal highway."
"Understood, Mackie," replied Sylia, her voice distorted by the hardsuit she was wearing.
"As soon as we get there, I want you to hold position and give Priss a chance to get aboard and
suit up."
"Is that wise?" came the reply. "I haven't been in this cockpit for over a year. If things
get hairy, you might be out one Knight Wing and one brother."
"It's either that, or you suit up with us, and carry Priss's hardsuit down to her."
"All right, but don't expect more then covering fire from me."
"I won't expect to lead the charge - that's Priss's job. Once Priss joins up with us, I
want you to stand off and wait for my signal." She turned to Nene. "We should be close enough to
Priss to contact her. Find out exactly what we're flying into to."
"Right!"
"Are you all right, Sylia?" asked Linna. "You sound nervous."
Sylia didn't look at her. She didn't want to show any signs of weakness in front of her
team mates.
"Sylia!" called Nene. "I've got Priss!"
"Let me speak to her."
"Patching you through."
"Priss, this is Sylia. What's happening?"
Priss's voice sounded distracted and distant. //There's two cars heading southeast at a
high rate of speed. There's at least one Boomer in the first car - it took out an ADP patrol
chopper. And - damn!// There were sounds of explosions in the background, followed by a long
stream of curses from Priss.
"What happened?" Sylia asked coolly, feeling the mask she wore as team leader slip into
place.
//Those SOB's just starting firing at me!//
"Are you all right?"
//So far - got to go - just hurry up, will you?//
"Just hang on," replied Sylia, the command mask firmly in place now. "ETA is eight
minutes."
//Make it as soon as possible, OK? Priss out.//
"Sylia!" said Nene, looking up from the console. "There's reports on the ADP channels that
the occupants of the two cars Priss is following were involved in an incident in Tinsel City.
They killed several people, including a N-policeman, and kidnapped a girl off the street. Their
description sound like Boomers in human form."
"Sis," cut in Mackie. "I-radar's picking up three objects coming in from the southwest,
moving in low and fast."
"Any ID on them?"
"None. But whoever they are, they're not ADP. I'm picking up targeting systems and heavy
ECM jamming from them."
"Nene, see if you can burn through their ECM and get an ID on them. Mackie, What's their
ETA to Priss's location?"
"Five minutes. Do you want me to increase speed?"
"Go ahead. Linna, get the Motoslaves ready. We might need their firepower on the ground."
"Right."
Above District 6
December 22, 2035
3:17pm
From the gunner's seat of Rattler Two, Leon watched the city pass around and below them.
I don't believe this, he thought. I must be breaking several dozen laws just by
sitting here. And you know something, right now, I don't give a damn.
"What was that?" asked Rattler Two's pilot, a hard faced man who'd introduced himself only
as Trask. He was sitting behind and slightly above Leon. "I didn't quite catch that."
"Nothing." He flipped over to the main frequency the force was using. While he listened in
the snatches of conversation, he looked down at the gunnery controls. These Rattlesnakes were
ugly looking, but they didn't skimp on firepower. Based on the old Soviet Hind Helicopters of
the last century, these airships were flying tanks.
A single 25mm rotary cannon in a flex mount located just under the gunship's nose was tied
directly into his helmet. All he had to do was look in the direction he wanted, and the cannon
followed. On a pair of stubby pylons that jutted from just behind the cockpit, the rest of the
craft's firepower sat. Each pylon had a 60mm recoilless rifle inboard, then a drum launcher
with forty HE rockets, and on the outboard, a pair of twin purpose air to air/air to ground
missiles.
Behind the pylons, a cargo compartment big enough for six people was accessible by a large
door on each side of the fuselage. Right now, two of the helicopter compartments were occupied
by three hardsuited Knights, while the lead Rattlesnake carried Mallory and three others.
"ETA in three minutes," said the pilot of Rattler One. "Gunners, We are now in a free fire
zone. Stand by on weapons."
"Gunner One here, standing by."
"Gunner Two," said Leon calmly. "Standing by."
Jeena's voice held a faint trace of amusement as she said, "Gunner Three, standing by."
"All Rattlers," interrupted a new voice. "This is Nest One. Be advised that we have a
possible contact coming in from the Northeast."
"Nest One, this is Knight One. Can you confirm contact?"
"Negative, Knight One. Too much ground clutter."
"Understood. Rattler Two, increase altitude, and see if you can get above the ground
clutter."
"Roger, Knight One," replied the pilot, and Leon felt the helicopter begin to climb
quickly. In less then thirty seconds, the helicopter climbed two thousand feet, then leveled
off.
"Rattler Two here," said Trask. "Contact is confirmed. Computer is trying to ID it right
now." After several seconds, Trask said, "Computer can't match contact's profile with anything
in it's memory."
"Knight One to Gunner Two. Can you ID the contact?"
Leon looked at a small screen on the left side of the gunner's station. The screen showed a
lean, twin engine VTOL that Leon knew at once. Damn! They would have to show up now!
"Gunner Two to Knight One. Affirmative on the ID. Be advised the contact is the Knight
Sabers. That's their aircraft, the KnightWing."
"Understood, Gunner Two. Maintain watch on the contact." Mallory's voice was crisp, but
Leon heard some of the tension in his voice. "All Rattlers, This is Knight One. The contact is
to be considered neutral, I repeat, the contact is to be considered neutral. According to our
local expert, it's the Knight Sabers. Neither their aircraft or any of it's occupants will not
be fired on unless they fires at us, or I use an Omega command. Verbal response, please."
For several seconds, the airwaves were full of "Roger," "Understood," and the occasional
"Clear". Leon asked the pilot. "What's an Omega command?"
"Pray you never find out," replied Trask brusquely. "ETA to landing sight is one minute.
Leon glanced out the window, and saw the highway several thousand feet below and off to his
right. He saw two cars, one behind the other, moving rapidly towards them. Every few seconds,
there was a series of flashes from rear of the cars. Shit! They're firing at something!
He shifted his gaze in the direction they fire was heading, and he felt his stomach lurch as he
saw the figure on a motorcycle a hundred meters behind the cars. Priss!
He knew it was her as soon as he saw her. Only someone with plenty of experience riding
motorcycles at high speed, or suicidal, or both, would be trying to weave and bob through
gunfire and explosions. Get the hell out of there, he thought. Leave these guys to
us.
Us? When do you become part of this outfit? a dry voice reminded him. You're
along because you know the city, plus you're an experience gunner. Nothing more.
"Gunner Two to Knight One. There appears to be a running gun battle between the targets and
someone else."
"I see it," replied Mallory. "White team, stand -"
"Blue Leader to Knight One," growled a new voice. "Check out the two semis on the highway,
the one about a kilometer ahead of our targets, and the one about the same distance behind."
Leon tore his gaze away from Priss, and spotted the two tractor trailers just as Mallory
said, "I see them. They don't seem too concerned about the gunfight, do they?"
"They don't. They could be blind, or just stupid, but I doubt it. Remind you of MegaNew
York?"
"Hell, yes. You want to bet their cargo is BU-12's?"
"Knight One, this is Red Four. I just scanned those trailers, and I'm picking up a huge
amount of eletromagnetic disturbances from them - just like a bunch of Boomers getting ready to
go into combat."
"No bet," said Blue Leader. "This is a trap all right. How do you want to play it?"
"We spring the trap, but not the way they want us to. Blue team, the rear semi is your
target. White team, the forward semi. I want them stopped, any way possible. Use the Rattlers
for fire support, and don't worry about sparing ordnance - ammo is easy to replace, people
aren't. Red team has the cars. Red Four, try and contact the Knight Sabers. Let me know when you
do make contact with them. Any questions?"
There were none. "All right Knights," said Mallory briskly. "Let's go to work."
Chapter 15
Highway 17
District 6
December 22, 2035
3:18am
"Sylia!"
The Knight Saber's leader looked up from the map and looked at Nene. "Yes?"
"I'm getting a signal from someone asking for the Knight Sabers. He claims to be one of the
Black Knights."
"Location?"
"It's from one of the unknown contacts."
"Sis!" shouted Mackie from the cockpit. "I can see several explosions on the highway, right
near where Priss is suppose to be!"
"Nene, patch the Black Knight through. ETA to drop area?"
"Four minutes."
"Are the Motorslaves ready, Linna?"
From the back of the compartment, the green hardsuit waved an arm. "As ready as they can
be."
"Patching the Knight through now, Sylia."
Sylia nodded. "This is White Saber. Who is this?"
For several seconds there was silence, the a voice said, //This is Red Four, of the Black
Knights.// The voice was clipped and the electronic distortion robbed the voice of most of its
emotion. //Be advised that the current situation you are flying toward is a trap, I repeat, a
trap. Knight One is advising that you stand off and stand by.//
"Negative, Red Four," said Sylia coldly. "I don't take orders from Knight One."
//White Saber, this is Knight One,// said a familiar voice. //This entire incident below is
a trap of some sort. My team is in the process of springing it, so I advise you to stand off for
the time being.//
"Negative, Knight One. This is our city, not yours. We are not going to stand by."
Sylia thought she heard Knight One mutter a curse, then said, //All right, White Saber.
Since you won't stand off, you might as well join the party. I recommend that you come in behind
the cars. Do you see the tractor trailers in front and behind the cars?//
"I see them sis," said Mackie over the internal line. "Looks like the Knights are
going after them too."
"We see them, Knight One," said Sylia.
//Be careful of them. Their cargo are BU-12B combat Boomers, getting ready to spring the
trap.//
"We are well versed in Boomer combat, Knight One."
//I never said you weren't. Just be careful, OK?//
"Understood, Knight One. We will be. I suggest we keep this channel as our line of
communications between you and me."
//Understood, White Saber. I'll alert my people that you're coming in. See you
when you get down here.//
"Understood, Knight One. White Saber out." Sylia took several seconds to add the new
frequency to her comm unit, then turned to Nene. "Contact Priss, and tell her what's happening.
Mackie, Linna, get ready to for a hot landing zone."
Sylia heard the Knight Wing's powerful weapons deploy, and lock into place. She thought for
a second that maybe she'd was pushing things a bit, but she dismissed the idea. I've never
let anyone fight my battles before. I won't start now.
Priss twisted her bike hard to the right to avoid another explosion that threw up concrete
and bits of shrapnel. Where the hell are you Sylia? she thought savagely, as she twisted
the bike to the left to present an elusive a target as she could.
She hated this one sided fight. There were at least two Boomers firing at her from the rear
car, and there was almost nothing she could do to stop them. As much as she wanted to, she
couldn't just pull out her pistol and return fire. She didn't dare to remove either hand from
the bike's handles at this speed. Slowing down was also out, as that would present the Boomers
with a better target. And besides, she doubted that her firearm would be able to hit a Boomer's
vital spot at this range anyway.
But the thought of backing off the pursuit until the Knight Wing arrived only briefly
crossed her mind. She was angry now. Angry at the band for dumping her, enraged at Leon for
disappearing off the face of the earth, and mad at Sylia for not being here yet. Finally, she
was furious at the Boomers in front of her for showing themselves when she was around. There was
no way in hell that she was going to show a group of Boomers anything but a snarl and the muzzle
bore of the largest weapon she could carry.
She eased off the bike's accelerator slightly, putting twenty more meters between her and
the cars. She started drifting to her right, trying to put herself in a more difficult location
for the Boomers to get a shot at her. If Sylia and the others don't show up soon, I'll -
Something large and loud roared out of the night, passing over her head, heading in the
opposite direction. A high pitched whine, like the cry of a fantastic beast, echoed in her
helmet. She snapped her head around to track whatever it was, but all she could make out was a
black shape heading away from her very fast in the night sky.
She turned back to locate the cars, when the highway in front of the two vehicles exploded
in a mass of flame, smoke, and noise. Both cars came to a hard stop, the screaming of their
brakes almost drowned out by the roar of flames. Priss applied her own brakes hard, sluing the
cycle in a half circle to a stop.
Beyond the cars, something large and black hung five meters above the roadway, smoke from
the explosion swirling around it like a halo. This time, Priss could hear the whine, and feel it
in the concrete beneath her feet. Whatever it was, it wasn't the Knight Wing. She flipped up her
visor to get a better look at the object.
After several seconds of hard staring, Priss realized what it was. A helicopter?she
thought, an uncomfortable feeling at the back of her neck. Not ADP's, that for sure. But
whose?
Despite the shadows Priss watched four shadowy figures drop from the helicopter into the
smoke. The car doors quickly opened, and Boomers stepped out and started shedding their human
disguises in preparation for battle.
I think we're in trouble.
Leon watched the semi slow as the Rattlesnake approached it. His hands tightened on the
joystick as he waited for the HUD to line up on the trailer. He heard Mallory order Rattler one
to fire in front of the cars, and heard faintly the explosions a kilometer behind him. Now,
it's our turn.
"Pilot, Drop us lower," said Blue Leader from the cargo compartment. "We'll hit them from
the ground. Gunner, you can fire whenever you're ready."
"Understood," replied Leon. Just then, the HUD beeped a target lock. Leon opened fire.
Two 60mm shells slammed into the front of the truck, shattering the engine, and sending
smoke and flame into the night air. Fifty meters from the helicopter, the truck came to a
complete stop, like it had hit an invisible brick wall. As it did so, the trailer exploded like
fragile glass, and a least half a dozen Boomers came swarming out of the trailers remains.
Three Boomers activated their thrusters and sprang at the Rattlesnake, while the others ran
towards the cars. Leon cursed as he saw they were BU-12s - Boomers designed solely for use in
combat. Three arms came up, and all three fired.
Trask hissed a curse, and banked the Rattlesnake hard to the left. Three streams of machine
gun bullets passed the airspace where the helicopter had just been. Leon locked on one of the
Boomers and opened fired with the 25mm rotary cannon. The Boomer suddenly lost most of its head,
shoulders, and upper chest to a dozen rounds of depleted uranium. It dropped like a rock to the
roadway below, and exploded.
"Blue team down," called out Blue Leader. Leon's head snapped down to see three black-and-
gold hardsuits moving to intercept the Boomers still on the ground. He hadn't even known they
had jumped until that second. Good Luck, he thought, then started looking for the other
two Boomers.
"Three o'clock!" shouted Trask. Leon looked right just in time to see one of the Boomers
sink a claw into the pylon between the air to air missiles and the rocket drum. It raised the
other arm to fire into the cockpit, and he found himself staring down the barrel of the machine
gun. Immediately, he tightened his finger on the rotary cannon's trigger, but nothing happened.
"I can't shoot him!" Leon yelled.
"Damn safety interlock," snarled Trask. He slammed the chopper hard over to the right,
trying to shake the Boomer off. But the Boomer hung on, even though its return fire missed the
cockpit by centimeters.
"Ill worry about our passenger," snarled Trask. "Find that other Boomer before it nail
us."
"Understood." Leon started looking, but the flames, smoke and explosions were making the
job difficult.
The chopper suddenly lost height and slued to the right. Had Leon not been securely
strapped in, he would have gone crashing into the windshield. As it was, his helmet saved him
from a concussion, though his vision was blurred for several seconds. By the time it cleared,
Leon saw the ground rushing up at him very quickly. This has not been my day!
With a loud groan, Trask yanked up hard on the joystick. The Rattlesnake bounced hard on
the roadway, then shot up into the air again, the rotors clawing for air. Leon looked at where
the BU-12 had been holding on, and mouthed a curse. The Boomer was still there, somewhat
battered by the touch-and-go tactic, but still functional.
He shouted, "Its still there!"
"I can't shake him!" bellowed Trask. The chopper continued to twist and weave, but the
Boomer simple hung on.
"Can you hold this ship steady for three seconds?" asked Leon, reaching for his pistol.
"And have that thing plaster us?"
"Not if I get it first." He checked the pistol cylinder. "On three." His right hand reached
over to pull open a sliding panel in the helicopter's canopy. "One." He pulled open the panel,
and a thin rush of cold air entered the cockpit. He raised his visor. "Two." He poked the muzzle
of his Rugar Redhawk through the narrow hole, and leaned forward to stare down the barrel at his
target. The Boomer was too busy just hanging on to notice the new danger yet.
"Three." As soon as the helicopter straightened out and flew straight, Leon fired as fast
as he could pull the trigger. Four .44 magnum bullets crashed into the Boomer's right wrist,
where the armor was thinnest. Greatly weakened by the sledgehammer blows, the joint snapped with
an audible crack. The Boomer dropped away from the helicopter into the war zone below, its claw
still attached to the pylon.
"About time!" shouted Trask, sounding relieved. "Stand by to trash that sucker with some
rockets!" He swung the Rattlesnake around quickly, and put the chopper into a shallow dive. Leon
ropped the still smoking pistol into his lap, and turn the switches controlling the rocket drums
on. Two green lights told him they were ready to fire. Just then, Leon saw the Boomer in his
sights.
The Boomer had fallen at least two hundred feet from the chopper to the hard surface of the
roadway, near the bonfire that had been the semi. Had it been human, the fall would have killed
it instantly. But it wasn't a human.
The fall had seriously damaged it, though. As Leon lined up his shot, he could see it was
still struggling to stand, despite the fact it was leaking several different fluids. Let's
see how you like THIS. His finger tightened on the trigger for the rockets.
A dozen HE rockets shot from the Rattlesnake and left a trail of smoke and flame as they
bore in on the damaged Boomer. They hit in and around the cyberdroid almost at the same time,
the series of loud discharges sounding like one long rolling thunderclap. The series of
explosions shattered the Boomer like an eggshell under the impact of a sledgehammer. Before the
chopper pulled up into the night sky, Leon saw the flaming wreckage scattered across several
meters of roadway.
"That's two," muttered Trask. "Where's number three?"
Just then, Leon spotted a familiar shape in the night sky five hundred meters away. The
Knight Wing had arrived. As he watched, the VTOL hovered just above the roadway, and three well-
known hardsuits dropped to the surface. Four other figures dropped from the VTOL, much larger
then the first three, and opened fire on the closest Boomers. The Knight Sabers are here!
Trask saw them too. "Rattler Two to All Knights. The Knight Sabers are on the ground near
Red Team's location."
"Understood Rattler Two," replied Mallory.
Leon saw something glint in the night sky. "Here comes number three," he said quickly, all
thought about the Knight Sabers forgotten. "Two O'clock high."
"I see him," said Trask. "Let's see if this Buma can dance any better then the others."