For Love of the Hunt
By Harris, Mitch, Shaine, and Shatterclaw. Individual rating:
PG-13.
"Shaine, Vicki, get into your suits. There's trouble downtown."
Shaine bit her lip but didn't say anything. Crimson was pushing himself too hard considering that he still had a hypercast on his leg...but she wasn't going to say a word about it... He could barely walk, but Saki and Jinks weren't there to scold him, and Belladonna wasn't around to tell on him.
Shaine was most certainly not going to be the one to tell on him.
Crimson pulled out what looked like a pair of wings attached to an engine, and Vicki helped him put the device on the back of his hardsuit. Then they hit the tubes.
A few short hops later, the three stood on top of a low building overlooking an alley. Inside the alley was an unarmored man fighting a Boomer with a sword.
"What the..." Shaine gasped in amazement.
"He's tough," Crimson said appreciatively, floating just above the roof. "Not too smart, but tough..."
The man stood over the stunned Boomer with his laser sword glowing in his hands. The sword flashed downward, slicing the Boomer's chest open and exposing the core.
"Get some readings, Freefall."
"It's totally fucked up...the Boomer was paralyzed by something.
"That's not possible...is it?"
"EMP?"
"Doesn't look like it."
He then lowered the sword, which ceased glowing as the energy dissipated, and reached into his coat to take out a handgun. He aimed down at the core and fired a round into it.
"No, it doesn't...we worked for a few years on getting our EMP's that small. Anything on the Boomer?"
"Well, it's nothing the government has either, I can tell you that..." Shaine checked her databases. "It looks like another batch of the ones they're tracking, from Tokyo. It's recovering, I think, but the core's getting pulped. Fat lot of good that does it now."
Standing over his kill, the man put his gun back into its holster. Then he reached into his coat again for a pack of cigarettes. He lit up, then turned around slowly and reached for his Desert Eagle.
"Shit! I think he heard us!"
"Vicki, can you shadow dance with him?"
"Please." She jumped down into the alley. "I keep up with you, don't I?"
The man stepped back a few feet as he saw the swirl of dust around Vicki's cloak. He felt, more than saw, that he was not alone...but it was impossible to say what had caused the dust cloud. Vicki ran toward him, leapt up onto the wall and kicked off from it, sailing over her head and gently touching him on the shoulder before landing behind him.
He could see a faint outline now, but nothing clear. He jumped forward, spinning around and firing without hesitation. Damn it...another Boomer?
Vicki rebounded off of a wall again, landing on a dumpster. It made a loud gonging noise.
Shaine tensed and leaned forward a little.
"Wait for it...this is a test, not a gang fight."
Vicki turned off her cloak, and the man could see a black-curved hardsuit beneath the trenchcoat. He aimed at her head, not particularly curious as to whether she was a Boomer or something else. At the moment, all that mattered was that she was prey...and that she was interesting prey.
A dagger shot forth from her hand, aimed toward his gun. He dodged left, firing at her. The shots were a little wide, and the gun was still flipped out of his hand.
It landed nearby but he decided not to go for it. He reached instead for the Glock on his right leg, pulling it out.
The thing in the black armor pantomimed tipping its hat to him.
He fired again, concentrating on her position and where she would be forced to dodge in order to avoid being hit.
"Damn it, the little punk nailed me!"
"Your turn, Freefall. Nothing fancy."
The Boomer hunter was momentarily surprised by the appearance of another hardsuited figure, this one much smaller than the first. She brought up her right arm unflinchingly as the larger one leapt out of the way. He was sure he'd hit her in the leg.
Vicki seemed to fall into a handstand, then disappeared.
"So you think you're special, huh?" the little one asked. He held his fire, staring at her curiously. "How'd you like to play with the big boys and girls? It's a lot better going after the Boomers with at least some armor, you know."
"Yeah, you might live long enough for someone to thank you!" Vicki added, gliding down from the roof again.
Shaine stepped forward, her voice lowered seductively. "Do you hate Genom as much as I do?" Her short, low laughter carried over the suit's external comm.
The man shook his head, kneeling and putting his Glock away. "Obviously I'm outnumbered..." He walked over to the Desert Eagle and picked it up, not even listening. He turned, looking at them again, as he put it away.
"Sure, we save the guy from lung cancer and this is how he thanks us? Whatcha think, Shaine? Should we let him in?"
"Yeah."
"Um...Crim?"
"I like him, Boss, but damn is he dumb..."
"He is the way I once was. ...Well, all right, he is a little dumber."
"A little, Boss?"
"A little," Crimson repeated firmly.
Vicki put her arm on Shaine's shoulder, and Shaine removed her helmet, smiling at the Boomer hunter. Vicki looked at her in alarm.
"Shaine, no!" Crimson hissed. "That's too risky!"
"So why haven't you killed me?" The man walked toward them, seeing his half-lit cigarette on the ground. He picked it up. "And you made me drop this..." He stared back at them, his eyes cold and emotionless.
"I'd rather kill Boomers," Shaine replied. "Are you going to make us do it?"
"Do what you want. You have the upper hand, but hesitation will get you killed."
A soft rumbling, like thunder, issued from overhead. The man puffed on his cigarette, gazing upward. He saw Crimson decloak, the wings on the glider spread open. The third Raven looked like an avenging angel.
"You fight well," Crimson said. "What is your name?"
"You don't need to know that.
"What is it you want? If you're not going to kill me then I think I'd better get back to work. I still have twelve Boomers to kill on this contract." It was an exaggeration, but the armored strangers would never know that. He tossed the cigarrette to the ground and walked away.
"Dang, he's cute..."
"You're not gonna get any arguments from me on that one." Shaine subvocalized the response so that her comm system would pick it up without letting him hear.
The man stopped suddenly. "Are you going after Genom?"
"Yes."
He turned to look at Crimson after that. "I'm still alive...so what is it you want?"
"Genom Chicago turned into a smoking crater in the ground," Shaine replied swiftly. "But, then, I'm just speaking for me. Not the group."
"And why do you seek an end to Genom's favorite children?" Crim countered softly.
"Is that really your concern? It's better than hunting you, isn't it?" He scowled. "I have my reasons. Leave it at that."
"There has been a great injustice done upon this city," Crimson said, finally answering his question. "I wish to put right what once went wrong...
"You fight well but you risk your life."
"Do I really risk my life? I'm still alive...and intend to stay that way."
"There's a big difference between a cyberdroid and a combat model. You did well against a waitress, but it didn't have what it needed to fight back and they're not all that easy."
"Maybe not...but that's what makes it interesting."
Crimson laughed. "Try it without the weapons."
"Try it without yours...?"
"Fair enough!" Crimson seemed excited. "Meet me in the park at eight. We'll see then."
A card imprinted with a feather landed at the hunter's feet, doubtless containing directions to the park.
"Why?"
"Why not? You kill Boomers that have gone rogue, I kill the cancer that is Genom. We may not see it, but we're on the same side."
"And the purpose of this meeting?"
"As you said, we will fight without weapons. This park has been known to house Boomeroids who rape young women. I've seen two of them, and under the law they're fair game."
"So no weapons. Just me and you? Or all of us here?"
"Yes, hand-to-hand, just the two of us. The others will make certain it stays a fair fight..."
"How many Boomeroids?"
"At least two, up to four if the reports are right."
"Well. Why wait? I'm ready now."
"You accept?"
"If we go now."
"If we go now, we will have no way of making sure that there is no interference."
"You have these other two in their armor. That should be enough."
"They have to fly back to their nests. Tomorrow night. Eight."
"There should be nothing to worry about. Now is as good a time as any.
Crimson shook his head, and Shaine spoke up: "If you do join up...you're going to have to learn how to listen."
"There is a time and a place. Plus you have those twelve Boomers to attend to...and I also have my duties. Tomorrow at eight."
"Well, then...those four will help take care of the number..."
"Cut out a tumor and the cancer may grow back. Repair the genes that cause the cancer, and you destroy it altogether."
The man began to walk away again. "Be there at eight. If you're not around by the time I get there, I start without you."
"Don't worry. You won't be so lucky."
As the Ravens cloaked and left, he walked over to a false laying near the dumpster and retrieved the sniper rifle inside. "One more appointment..." he muttered.
///
The next night, James Michael Harris was sure to arrive early. He found a tall tree and climbed up into it, then watched the people walk by. There was a large group of girls, then a Hispanic woman with red and white hair...
It was nearly eight. Four men in trenchcoats, heavily cybered from the look of it, drifted by the far edge of the park. A man wearing a cast on one leg walked toward them. He was dark-skinned, and pretty well built.
The four men tore off their coats and charged the fifth. Harris dropped out of the tree and started running toward them.
///
"...report of four Boomeroids attacking a man in the park..."
Mitch Wolfstone's head came up. He scrambled to get his coat and lock the lab up.
Time to go Raven-hunting.
///
Crimson seemed to be keeping the first pair of Boomeroids down. As Wolfstone entered the park, Harris was watching the third one, who was swinging a chain over his head. Harris studied the movements of the chain carefully, searching for an opening, then moved in to a side kick toward the man's chest.
Harris stepped in quickly, punching it in the chest. It didn't seem to have much of effect...felt like he'd hit something hard, almost metal. Harris brought his fist back, wincing, as the Boomeroid tried to sweep him. Harris hopped out of the way, but the Boomeroid hit his foot and set him off balance.
The third Boomeroid staggered, and Harris followed up with a punch at his face. The Boomeroid's nose gushed a black fluid. The fourth one tried to grab him from behind. Harris pivoted, swinging his left foot at the Boomeroid.
Mitch pulled out his service revolver, almost out of instinct. He knew it wouldn't make any difference against a Boomeroid. But perhaps the microwave jammer...
Meanwhile, Crimson didn't seem to be faring much better. The first pair of Boomeroids had knocked him to the ground, but he managed to flip one on top of the other. He got up, but one hit his kneecap. Leaping forward, he rolled away from them.
The third Boomeroid, the first one to attack Harris, opened its jaws and bellowed out a huge laugh as Harris stepped back to see both of his opponents at once.
"This is getting us nowhere. You can't kill them without some kind of weapon..."
The Boomeroid's mouth glowed bright. Harris felt himself being pushed to the ground as a beam of light shot past his head. He pulled out his Desert Eagle, not wasting any more time.
"All right, time to end this. Need a weapon?"
"No, I've got mine." Crimson pulled two Desert Eagles from his belt.
Both started firing, and dropped two of the Boomeroids right away. Harris emptied the last few shots in the chamber at his second opponent's chest as well.
The Boomeroid staggered, and spat out the bullets. "Going to eat your brains!" It charged.
Having emptied the DE, Harris dropped it quickly and reached for the laser sword on his hip. It flared to life and prepared to defend against the Boomeroid.
Mitch shot down Crimson's second Boomeroid, leaving a smoking heap of flesh and synthflesh standing at the Raven's feet.
Harris's Boomeroid was only a foot away, and didn't seem to be slowing down. He stepped aside at the last moment, holding the sword tight so that the Boomeroid would impale itself. Wolfstone fired again, and the Boomeroid collapsed.
///
Wolfstone walked up to the bodies, a stunned expression on his face.
"Greetings!"
His head snapped up at Crimson's words. "I want answers - now!"
A figure stepped out of the bushes, aiming a Miyako at Wolfstone's chest. "I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you," Shaine Kohl said.
"Are you human?" Wolfstone asked.
"These Boomeroids are wanted for murder in six states. Congratulations, Officer. You're a hero."
Wolfstone started, then felt the barrel of the Miyako at his back. "No sudden moves, ADP. Drop the weapons."
He reluctantly set down the gun and the jammer. "Who are you?"
Harris stared at the three, then put his guns back in their holsters and went to pick up the emptied Desert Eagle.
"I know you don't like Boomers..."
"You know my partner already," Crimson said.
"Are you Genom?"
"Hell, no!" Shaine gasped. She seemed geniunely offended.
"Now...may I ask what you are doing here, Officer? It's a bit far from the lab..."
"I got a hot tip."
"Ah, and what was that weapon you fired?"
"Are you the Ravens?"
Having been forgotten, Harris decided that it was time to leave.
"Ah ah aaaah, Mr. Smith...you can't go just yet."
"Yeah, the party's just getting started!" Shaine smiled.
"Uh huh...and how do you gentlemen feel about jail time?"
Harris stopped. "I have no reason to be here. I'm legal."
"I want some answers!" Wolfstone demanded.
"Funny, man..." Shaine dug in a bit harder with the barrel of her gun. "You didn't want to give any before. Why should we give any now?"
"Infringing on a U.S. Marshall's case...killing the perps...I believe that's ten to twenty. I'm sorry, Officer, Mr. Smith... You're going to have to come with me."
Shaine grabbed Wolfstone's arm. It was a laughable gesture considering the ten inch difference in their height, but the ADP officer wasn't going to fight her while she had the Miyako on him.
Crim pulled out his cell phone. "Yes, yes, we lost them...seems an ADP got trigger happy..."
"Excuse me." Harris pulled some papers out of his coat. "These will verify everything."
"Yes, they're toasted. Pickup in ten." Crimson closed the phone.
Soon a large van pulled up. "Inside, ADP."
"Just be careful with the jammer!" Wolfstone begged. He stepped inside, then crossed his arms and sat down.
Shaine sat down across from him and patted the seat next to her. "C'mere, Mr. Jones."
Harris sighed, put the papers aside, and took a seat next to her.
The van had heavily tinted windows, and the driver was behind mirrored glass. The van began moving.
"What's your name?" Crimson asked.
"My name is my own. Call me Jones for now."
Harris looked at Shaine, who was holding her gun all too casually. It dangled from her left hand in a fashion that reminded him of the way Rachael held her cigar in the movie Blade Runner. "These two really need a lesson in manners, Boss."
"Drop the gun, girl. I show my manners."
"Hah."
"Put it away, Shaine. They can try to shoot their way out of here, but they won't get very far."
Shaine reluctantly slipped the Miyako back into her jacket.
"So. Do the two of you mind answering some questions?"
"Ask away," Harris said.
"Your names, first and foremost?"
"You don't need to know my name."
"Okay. You two want to play hardball? Fine.
"You are James Harris, a man with a questionable work background, and you are Mitch Wolfstone, an AD Police labcoat. You were both in the park looking for a myth that most don't even believe in."
Harris pulled a Glock from a holster on his leg, aiming at Crimson. "How do you know all that?"
"Oh, please. I cracked Majestic 13's outer layer when I was thirteen." Shaine rolled her eyes.
"You...Wolfstone, was it? Were given a tip because..." Crimson looked at the gun, seeming bored. "Because James - may I call you Jim? - used to work for the same people as you do.
"They like to give information to the right people. I happen to be the wrong person."
Crimson smiled. "You can shoot me now, Jim, but it won't help you."
Harris sighed and put the gun down.
"What do you two truly want out of life?"
"To get rid of these rogue Boomers."
"And how do you plan to do that, Mitch?"
"That's why I joined the ADP."
"A police funded by Genom and crooked officials. Interesting."
Harris pulled out his cigarettes, and lit one. "What I want out of life is no concern. What I'm doing now is all that matters."
"Ah. Living on the edge, Jim? What happens when your bosses forget how useful you are?"
He flicked the ash at Crimson's feet. "I find another boss. Get to the point.
"There was a reason you let me live last night. There is a reason I am alive now. Get to that reason, or kill me. Very simple."
"Yes. Both of you are being wasted in your current jobs. You, Mr. Wolfstone, have found a way to fire-cook Boomers. Genom will kill you for that alone." He didn't mention Harris's black box from the previous night. "And Jim...we may truly be here to die. Majestic 13 isn't happy with your work as of late.
"I am offering you both a new line of work, one that will put your skills to their fullest test."
Harris dropped the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it. "How much?"
"Eighty thousand a year to start with, plus bonuses."
"And the IRS doesn't touch a penny," Shaine added.
"Eighty thousand a year is reasonable. What else?"
Crimson grinned. "I'm offering you a job, Mr. Harris. What more would you like? Our health and dental plan is top-notch."
"Alternative medicine coverage...401K..."
Harris took out his sword. "It's hard getting this worked on."
"Yes, let me guess: too much weight, not enough power?"
"Yes."
"I'm sure we can find a labcoat to help you with it. But there are a few rules, of course." He began to repeat the rules as he had to Shaine less than a week ago.
"What is this all about?"
"It's about destroying Genom, Mr. Wolfstone," Shaine snapped.
"I never liked that company. I've lost good friends to rogue Boomers."
"I lost my family because of them."
"The fourth rule..." Harris said.
"What about number four, Jim?"
"It limits me...what happens if I get a better offer?"
"There is no better offer, Jim. Genom can't match us. M-13 would like to, but they find it easier to kill."
"What about my current contract? I want to be compensated."
"In what form? Other than your sword, of course."
"The sword, yes...and to know why the hell I've been offered this chance."
"You're tough - damned tough - but you need extra training."
"It'd be a pity to let you go to waste," Shaine sighed, gazing longingly at Harris.
"You have also been recommended by an old friend, one who would like to see you live."
"One last thing. You say no seceding... Well, I'll be blunt. I want a guarantee that if it's justified and I have need, I can leave."
"You can leave, Jim."
"Without being killed."
"Jim, in your line of work, I don't have to worry about you."
"And why is that?"
"M-13 wants you to go on a suicide mission. I know; I had my people do some checking."
"I guess I'm in, then."
"Do you want to see your orders? Or may I just repeat them to you?"
"I don't care. Just tell me."
Crimson took out a plain white envelope and removed a piece of paper from it. "Find and kill the man known as Crimson," he read.
"So you were my next target."
"I was your last target. You see, I have some help..." The van had stopped, and the door opened. Outside were five Ravens with weapons pointed at the van.
"I see."
"We don't take kindly to folks shooting at the Boss..."
"Ah, the welcoming wagon!" Wolfstone said.
"Fortunate I didn't have the orders earlier..."
"As you can see, you may have gotten me, but you wouldn't have gotten past them.
"Welcome to the Raven's Nest."