5
Thumper preceded me out into the hall as I swept her
to the left, fully expecting what I was half-hoping to not find. And there they were, Sashe’s Close Security,
pistols aimed and barking. I didn’t
have to think about firing Thumper. By
that point in life it was automatic.
Too bad there were slugs hammering me in the chest and ribs as I pulled
the trigger.
My shot went wild, burying itself somewhere in the
wall or ceiling as I was staggered back by the impacts against my armored
jacket. Oh yeah, didn’t I mention
that? The heavy jacket and pants I’d
changed into while talking to Mhik and Ahni were armored. That’s why they were in the bag with the
spare clips for Thumper, comp-shades, my illegal splice card and four
concussion grenades. And you have no
idea how glad I was at that moment that I’d decided to bring the damn bag with
me. I was still staggering as I heard
their pistols bark again.
I turned and ran for all I was I was worth.
The pistols barked a few more times as I tore ass
down the carpeted hallway, adrenaline and a happy snarl singing in my
veins. Like I said, I’d only been half
hoping not to see them there. The other
half of me had been swimming in my new hate-pool and very much looking forward
to it.
It only took me a few seconds to get to where I was
furiously sprinting – the door leading into the stairwell. I heard one of them yell “Shit!” as I
barreled through the door. I didn’t
slow down for the stairs and made it to the next floor before hearing them
thunder into the stairwell.
“Which way,” one of them started before I let them
know where I was.
“Fuck!” I yelled before tearing the door to my right
open and jumping into the hall. I kept
the door open a sliver as I holstered Thumper.
I listened to Sashe’s team’s progress and reached into the bag. I pulled out a grenade, popped the safety
and started the short-count. They’d be
close enough when it was time.
Four, three, two, I counted as my pursuers
pounded down the stairs, and, I yanked the door open and tossed the
primed grenade towards them in a short arc.
Then I threw myself back around the corner and sprinted the hell away
from that door. I wasn’t worried about
catching much of the blast myself. The
comparatively vast open space of the stairwell would allow the concussive force
to dissipate too quickly to do any real damage to anyone on the other side of a
wall. But you do not fuck about when
it comes to explosives. People who do
that tend to not have the full inventory of parts for long. So I moved.
When I heard the crump of the grenade going
off I looped back to the stairwell. I
didn’t have to worry about getting the door open as the grenade had taken it
off the hinges. Didn’t disperse as
much as I thought it would, I mused as I stepped over to the bodies of my
former pursuers. Shrugging, I bent down
and started stripping them of their gear.
I didn’t bother going through their pockets, just stripped them of their
equipment belts and the serious gear.
The pistols I found a few feet away.
One went into the bag.
I zipped up the bag and slung it over my shoulder
and across my back. Then I methodically
dropped the clip from the pistol I had kept in my hand, weight-checking it for
ammo. The pistol’s ex-owner had changed
mags before tearing down the stairs.
Good. I nodded, slapped the clip
back in and checked the chamber. I
chuckled as I jacked the slide, seating a round in the chamber.
Time to let ‘em all know just what I think of
this shit. I turned to glare up into the corners where
the walls and ceiling met. That was
where the cameras were. Not where they
would be, but where they were. Every
stairwell and hallway under the dome was plugged for sight and sound. You learn that sort of thing in my line of
work.
I glared at the cameras. “Not much of a psych retrieval, fuckers. Your bitches were packing slugs, not
tranqs.” Then I turned to the still
forms on the floor and put two of those slugs into each of their already
bleeding skulls.
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