Dane Curse (10 page)

Chapter 18

“Bastard!” Director Humphries screamed as he fell backwards down the mountain towards the rocky shore below.

I stepped off, and went after him.

With your arms out, and flapping against the wind like Humphries’ were, a human body will fall at about 120 miles per hour, but pull them back at your sides like me and you can hit 200. I hoped it would be fast enough.

Humphries twisted through the air as I followed him down. The wind roared in my ears. I strained to keep my eyes open. A jagged chunk of rock flew past, missing him by inches. It struck my shoulder. The stone exploded as I burst through. The impact slowed me, and my target pulled further away. The ocean’s mist was already wet on my face. I only had a few seconds left.

I pulled in tighter, trying to get as streamlined as possible. Humphries twisted in the air, his coat flapping behind him. I reached out. The cloth from his jacket grazed my fingers. I clamped down with everything I had.

Too late. My hand was empty. The ocean salt was now stinging my eyes. I stretched as far as I could. And I got a finger around his jacket. I grabbed, and pulled him to me. Slinging one arm under his shoulder, I thrust the other into the cliff, and my fingers dug into the oncoming rock like a plow through warm soil. We were still moving fast though. So I pushed in deeper. My hand caught like an anchor, and we swung down into the rock face. I cradled Humphries as we hit.

Together we slid down the mountain with a small army of pebbles in our wake. And we began to slow. I held him tight, and finally, thankfully, we came to a stop. I looked down. We were less than ten feet from the water, and a forest of sharp rocks that made a croc’s mouth look like soft serve.

The director’s heart hammered through his suit. It was almost as fast as mine. Grabbing his shirt I spun him around so we were face-to-face. “Please don’t drop me… I didn’t do anything, I swear.” He was taking deep gulps of air. “It’s true … I was angry that Pinnacle wasn’t helping with the expansion, but I didn’t hurt him! I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I’m just as upset about his disappearance as you.”

“Then why have you been telling everyone that he’s on some covert assignment?”

“It was all Glory’s idea.”

“Glory’s idea? You mean Glory Anna?”

“Yes… but it was smart… I agreed.”

“Why?”

“If people think Pinnacle vanished they’d panic. Overnight crime would double. It would be chaos. Neither I nor Team Supreme could stop it.” Humphries closed his eyes and swallowed. His breathing slowed. “However, if we told them he was sure to return soon everyone would remain calm, and it would buy us the time we needed to find him.”

Damn. I believed that. “What about the collars, have any gone missing?”

“A collar?” He looked unsure about the question. “Why would anyone use a collar? Even if you doubled them up they wouldn’t work on Pinnacle. He’s too strong, it-”

I shook him and said, “Answer me, are any missing?”

“No, none. All requests for collars go through me. They’re all accounted for.”

I looked into his eyes. And damn it, I believed that too.

Time to scratch the SPECs off of my list.

“Alright then, let’s get moving.” I threw Humphries over my shoulder, and carried him up the cliff like a sack of potatoes. When we got to the top I tossed him in the back of the car, and headed towards town. I expected him to be a wreck for the rest of the ride, but less than a mile down the road he had straightened his hair, smoothed down his clothes, and looked calm.

He may have cracked, but I couldn’t help still thinking that he was one tough nut.

#

I dropped Humphries off about four blocks from his office. He opened the door, but stopped before he got out. “So where’s Jeff?”

“Nice to know you care,” I said. “He’s safe. Unconscious, but safe. I left him in his car back in the Foothills.” I turned around and looked at him. “And don’t go too hard on the kid. You’d be amazed at how sloppy people get when they haven’t done field work in a while.”

The old man got out, and slammed the door. I pulled away looking through my rearview mirror. Humphries was jabbering on his cell phone, no doubt reporting Jane’s appearance, plate number, and location to his men. It wouldn’t do him any good. I turned the corner, flipped a switch, and in two blocks my license plate had a fresh face, while the body of the car shifted back to standard Jalopy, only now she was fire engine red. Looking like that I could double back, drive right by the director, and his sharp eagle eyes wouldn’t give me a second glance.

I kissed my hand and slapped the dash.

I knew my next logical step would be to look into the death threat, but with no earthly way to identify the author I was out of luck. Lynchpin might be disappointed, but there was a much better place to get information, and I pointed Jane in that direction.

On my way there I got a call on the comms unit.

“Hello?” I said.

“What are you up to?”

“Widow. Is ‘hello’ not in your vocabulary?”

“It is. But that’s two syllables I don’t have time for right now. Mrs. Freeman just called again. She’s worried about the Kapowitzer. Are you stopping by her place today?”

“Don’t see why I would.” I weaved through some commuters and gave them a taste of my horn. “I figure tomorrow at the soonest. And even that’s a long shot.”

“What’s going on? You’ve never turned down a client in need.”

“I told you, I can’t talk about it.”

I practically felt Widow’s sigh. “Well then, can you tell me where you’re going?”

“Yeah,” I said. “To see about some ammo.”

Chapter 19

Nobody was better than Professor Varius when it came to energy and tech, but so far those areas had bore no fruit. I liked the Azures he showed me, but when I asked about other bullets he dismissed the idea out of hand. Some might mistake that for confidence, but I know a blind spot when I see one, so I decided to visit a guy who knew more about conventional weaponry.

Twiddle was sort of a Gold Coast legend, though tragedy might be a better term. Back when cybernetics were all the rage he had his arms replaced with implants to increase their speed and strength, but the hacks that worked on him didn’t do either. Instead, the arms he got were barely as good as the ones he had before, only metal, except now they have a glitch that keeps them constantly moving which, if you were a sniper like Twiddle, can really harm your professional life. He’s tried having them switched out, but something about the connectors fused to the nerves so they can’t be replaced. Now all he does is run his shop, Gun Guys, but he’s still the best person when it comes to projectiles that got the most moxie.

When I walked in he was sitting behind the counter. He wore light blue overalls, and both silver hands were resting on his growing stomach, thumbs moving over one another slow but steady.

“Hey Twiddle,” I said.

“Dane, how are you?” He smiled wide and shook my hand with both of his. “Glad to see you’re still out and about. You need some ammo for the Thumper?”

“Nope, Rico’s gut is all filled up. Actually, I’m in the market for something new. Something with stopping power.”

“Looking for a little kick-a-poo, huh?” Twiddle pointed at Lois. “Have you tried that mammoth swinging on your chest there?”

“She’s a bit out of date. I’m thinking about a projectile,” I said. “You got anything like that?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, “but before we go on, why are you really asking?”

“Like I said, I want something new.”

“So you’re sticking with that?” Twiddle threw back his head and laughed. “As long as we’ve been friends you and the word new have never met in the same sentence.”

“What, I can’t trade up?”

Twiddle shrugged. “Some buy to collect, others to impress, but guys like you mate for life. When you finally check in at Hotel Ayers it’ll be with a Kapowitzer in one fist and a Thumper in the other. But if I’m wrong I’ll be happy to take Lois off your hands. Give you a good price too.”

“You’d buy my Kapowitzer? I would think an assassin wouldn’t want a pistol that leaves a signature.”

“Sniper is the preferred term. And since I’m not in that game anymore I don’t care. I’ve always wanted to own one. Are you selling?”

I glanced around the store. “Maybe.”

Twiddle bent over the counter with fire in his eyes. “Don’t mess with me, would you really?”

“Never mind,” I waved him away. “It was a passing fancy.”

Twiddle resumed his easy lean. “That wasn’t a nice thing to do to a friend. So you’re here about a case then? That’s fine too. I guess. But before we proceed the standard rules apply.”

“Tell no one what I see.”

“Don’t take that lightly. What I’m going to show you today, it’s tippy top secret. Understand?”

“Have I ever spilled bean one?” I asked.

“You have not.” He gave me a lingering look. “Ok then, let’s take a walk to the Harmory.”

Twiddle hopped off his stool, and motioned for me to follow. We walked past the firing range, through the door in the back, down one long flight of stairs, and into a room that was the size of a warehouse. It was cold, and filled from top to bottom and all parts between with piles of different sized crates, each one with a table in front of it displaying a weapon that represented its contents.

I’ve always been impressed with how much mayhem he stores, and Twiddle led me through it all, talking over his shoulder the whole time. “So you want to know which mules kick the hardest these days. For that we’ll first visit nah.”

“Nah?” I asked. “You change your mind?”

“Funny,” Twiddle said. “No, N-A-H. New Army Hardware. This way.”

“New Army? Never heard of them.”

“It’s not really their name, just something I call them because I have to call them something. They’re an outfitter working in South America, and their wares are primo choice.”

“Any of them stronger than an Azure?”

“I’ll tell you, the Sindicate’s producing those, and I’m more than happy to carry them, but I’ve got a few that can outperform the blue beauties. Here’s one now.” Twiddle picked up a devious looking black rifle, and held it out. “This is the Barracuda. Two meters of rail gun that can put a hole in a rhino from nose to nuts, and I believe was responsible for that recent incident, the one that’s being kept hush-hush. I know you’ve heard about it.”

Every muscle in my body locked tight. I took my eyes off the weapon, and put them on Twiddle. “What do you mean?”

“That thing in Africa. The French lost a fighter jet over Somalia, but there was nobody up there with him, and no surface to air nothing. I’m willing to bet that one of these babies torqued him up nicely.”

“Oh that.” I returned my attention to the gun. “Is it more powerful than an Azure?”

“The bullet? No. But the way the rifle shoots it? Yeah.”

“And it doesn’t need Blue Blood to-”

“Trajectory my friend. When we’re talking punching power speed is king while the acid is flaccid.”

“Check.” The Prof might not agree. “It’s pretty sweet, what else you got?”

“Pretty sweet, what else you got?” Twiddle shook his head. “Yeah, ok. So the next bachelorette,” he led us to some other stock a few feet away, “is the TAY-80. It’s projectile-less. Only fires energy blasts, but they’re concentrated tight enough to burn through, well, almost anything. And by anything I mean metal, concrete, battleships, small moons… The capsules that provide the juice are a one and done deal so ammo is in short supply, and I mean very short supply. Kind of a hassle for now.”

Twiddle pulled it out to give me a closer look. It was a beautiful weapon, shoulder mounted and silver with rounded edges and that heavy feel that belies quality craftsmanship, but there were no burn marks on Pinnacle’s body. “Pass. Intriguing, but not my style. Anything else?”

He shook his head “You know, you don’t impress easy. I’m showing you stuff that any US Marine would give a night with their mother for, and all I’m getting is yawns.”

I shrugged. “Sorry, I guess I’m particular.”

Twiddle nodded, and stroked his chin. “I do have one more, and I got a feeling it’ll interest you, but…”

“But what?”

“Ok, the thing is these last two, I don’t like the thought of you chatting to your Agent buddy about them, but this one, you can’t mention it to anyone. Only a handful of people in the world even know it exists.”

“Come on, we’ve gone this far.”

He smiled. “You know, I do want to talk to someone about it, the thing’s amazing.” He looked at the back wall. “Ok, come on, let’s throw caution to the wind.”

Twiddle led me to a small room in the back. The only thing inside was a plain wooden crate. It was already open, and filled to the top with straw. He walked to it, reached in, and pulled out a bright red rifle. “I present to you the Kaos.” It was very thin, and longer than any I’d seen before. Maybe it was the festive color, or maybe it was because the gun was so slim, but it didn’t look as impressive as the last two, yet he cradled it like a bundled baby. “This is the most powerful, most lethal hero killing machine I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what mad genius built it, but this thing’s got more power than you can safely hold in your hand.”

“Ok,” I said, “but before we go on tell me, how does it stack up to the Sky Hammer?”

Twiddle’s face dropped. “Varius’s old canon? They’re not in the same category.”

“What are you talking about? That thing’s knocked Pinnacle out of the sky.”

“Yeah, but he got back up, didn’t he? Listen, I’m not putting down the Prof, he was the best. The best. But that was back in the day, and that day’s not this day, understand? You could probably handle an energy cannon like The Hammer without dying. I’m sure it’d be months until you lost the sunburn, but the Kaos here slings slugs at a velocity that would break your skin easy. No muss or fuss, just a clean hole right through you.” He made an ‘O’ with his hand.

“It’s that good, huh?”

“Affirmative,” Twiddle said. “This thing could perforate Glory Anna, its bullets are faster than Doctor Velocity. I’m telling you this gun could even put a hole in Pinnacle. Whenever he gets back.”

“What?” My jaw went slack. I stared at Twiddle, but all I could see was the rifle he held. I reached towards it. “How’s that possible?”

Twiddle pushed my hand away. “With these, MAGMAs.” He cleared the rifle’s chamber, and a red bullet flew out at me.

I snatched it from the air and studied its design. The MAGMA was unlike any other bullet I’ve seen. It was very long and very thin, and had tiny stripes running from end to end. “How does it work?” I asked.

Twiddle smiled. “Brace yourself because it’s next level cool. So projectiles get blasted out of a barrel due to propellant, or the force exerted behind them. They travel around three thousand feet per second, give or take depending on the explosion and the bullet’s shape and size and weight.”

“Got it,” I said, remembering the Prof’s tutorial, “but increasing the speed would mean more explosives which would destroy the gun.”

Twiddle smiled. “May I continue?”

“By all means.”

“Thanks. So the thing is there’s muzzle velocity, the speed the bullet moves rights as it leaves the barrel, and there’s the speed after. Once the bullet’s out and free it starts to slow because of air pressure and gravity and what not. Oxygen has mass, even though we don’t feel it, but something moving so fast can’t help but experience it differently than we do.”

I nodded. “Like when you jump into a pool off the high dive instead of the edge.”

“Exactly. Well, all that slows the bullet, limiting its effective range resulting in the inevitable stop. Every projectile has that problem. Every one. Except-”

“Except these,” I said, looking at the MAGMAs with new eyes.

“Except these. MAGMAS. Multi-Accelerant Generating Momentum Ammunition. The only bullet that gains strength with distance. See those stripes? They’re explosive propellants stacked up behind the slug so when you shoot it fires off with normal speed, just like a normal bullet, but once it’s out of the barrel the next charge goes off, and fires it forward, faster than before. Then another one goes off. Then another, and another, and soon the thing is speeding at… well I don’t know the official top speed but it’s been tested on objects that match the tensile strength of Glory Anna, and it’s blown straight through them. That’s why I say it could punch through Pinnacle.”

“Definitely?”

“Well, maybe not all the way through him, but it would definitely break skin. The real trick would be getting him to stand still long enough for the bullet to reach him though. But even if you could do that it would still take a better marksman than I ever was because the distance required to get it up to the necessary speed would be something like,” Twiddle looked down at his hands where the fingers danced a jig. “Over two miles. And at that distance you’re dealing not just with gravity and atmosphere, but with the curve of the earth and its rotation.”

I took the rifle from Twiddle’s hands and studied it. This had to be the murder weapon. “How much do they cost?”

“More scratch than a litter of Hemingway cats.”

“Has anybody bought one?”

“One? No. My buyer purchased them all. They picked up one last week, and must’ve loved how it performed because they bought the whole lot. I’m actually thinking about retiring down in sunny Saint Luthor’s.” The man was all smiles.

“You did that well, huh?” I said. “Not a lot of people could afford that kind of loot. Must be someone well heeled.”

“Dane,” Twiddle said, “you itching to ask me something?”

I had never pushed him to answer outright questions about his clients, but if there was a time to overturn precedent now was it. “Who bought them?”

Twiddle shook his head. “I can’t say.”

I felt the weight of the gun. I could bend it in half, easy. And if I destroyed this rifle, then threatened to do the whole box, Twiddle would probably tell me everything I wanted to know. But then he and I wouldn’t be friends anymore, and I could never ask him for a favor again. “You’ll have to.”

“I can’t.”

My palms got wet as their grip tightened. “Can’t, or won’t?”

“Can’t. The courier who picked it up was masked. And the purchase was made through one of my regular client codes. I have no idea who the real buyer is, only that I can trust them.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Twiddle took a deep breath. “I’ll only tell you because I can’t really tell you, got it? Most of my usual customers are small time so we do sales face-to-face, but others, like large organizations that have more to lose, they use shell companies and codes. That way I know it’s kosher, but can’t testify against an individual directly if I’m caught.”