One determined and pissed off Operative, one talented girl and one snarling cheetah can make a hell of a hole in border control. The Free Staters saw me coming at a dead run and just got out of the way. The Roman border guards – well, I'll send flowers to the hospital later. I was in something of a hurry. Commandeer the border guard's gas jeep, shout at them in passing to clear the corridors to medical, and we were doing 95 before we hit the down ramp.
The transit corridors are wide enough for a vehicle, if it is driven slowly and with the usual respect for life, limb and pedestrians. Rounding a bend on two wheels is actively frowned upon. An aged monk, Shinto by the exceptionally brief glimpse I got of his robes, leapt frantically out of the way, then proceeded to give me a master class in the art of invective until we were out of hearing. Quite a ways, considering the volume he was shouting at.
Note to self – recover the security logs for this corridor. That performance needs to be preserved and passed on. Seraphina, hands busy trying to hold a hundred kilos of upset hunting cat, sways with the movement of the Jeep. Another corner. Crash down two gears, power round the bend in a controlled skid. Reach and grab her to stop her falling out and becoming a vaguely person shaped smear on the wall. Accelerate hard and change up. Corridor lights are flashing, it is rapidly clearing. Accelerate harder. Medical dead ahead, fifteen hundred metres. Dammit, the access hatch is closing! Squeak through with the loss of some paint and a few unimportant bits and pieces of jeep. Brake hard. We still hit the wall, but not hard enough to bounce. Much. Scramble out and race for the main door to Medical, Flash well out in front, Seraphina a couple of metres behind me. Laughing like a loon.
I am known well enough here that only a few panicked shouts go up as we race past, heading straight for Enhancement. Three turns, down two levels, taking the stairs three at a time. Seraphina running easily beside me. This will bear investigating – later. We storm into the lobby outside the Enhancement decontamination lock and come to a halt in a flurry of limbs, fur and tail. A fully armed and armored security squad will make anyone stop quickly. Quick check of name tags. No one I know.
“Sergeant. Where is Captain Flores?” Always ask the Sarge. They know stuff.
“Inside, Operative Stevens.” Through the full helmet of his armor, his voice comes out flat and harsh. I move towards the door. “No one is to enter without the Captain's permission. Not even you, Sir.”
Damn. A clatter in the corridor behind us, as a Guard Squad races up, guns at high port.
“YOU!” the corporal leading the charge bellows. “On the ground, NOW!” I roll my eyes at the sergeant and am certain I hear a faint sigh of disgust through his respirator. Kick into full hunting mode, spin and leap. Before any of either squad can move, I have one hand delicately encircling the corporal's throat, with my other hand poised just above his eyes. Delicately, as all my claws are fully extended.
“When I want you to speak, I will tell you. When I want you to move, I will tell you. When I want your opinion, I will tell your bosses bosses boss to report it to me at MY convenience. Now shut the fuck up. The rest of you men, stand down. NOW.” They do, some reluctantly, some shamefaced.
“His name is Hicks.”A faint tendril of thought, still bubbling with suppressed laughter, in my mind.
“Now, Private Hicks. What seems to be the problem?”
“It's Corporal, Sir”
“Was Corporal. Spit it out. What's got your panties in a bunch.” Some of his squad vainly attempt to hide smiles. Recognise one of them. We shoot together regularly, hit the nightspots occasionally.
“We received a report to chase and apprehend a lunatic with a woman and big cat who broke into the Free State, stole a Jeep and tried to commit vehicular manslaughter of a monk, Sir.” Sweating freely now, one of my claws caught his neck when he moved. Not much blood, yet at least.
“Dumbass. Did you think to check the transit corridor monitors? My implants were broadcasting on all frequencies. And you bring an unarmoured squad into a facility under lock down? Or do you think I picked these claws up at a fucking gift shop?” I casually toss him into the wall. “Vasquez – take over. Get your squad out of here, and drop that idiot into the brig on your way past. I'll be down to press charges later.”
“Very good, Sir. Who is she?” Gesturing at Seraphina. Oh. Damn.
“Well above your pay grade, Vasquez. Do you really want to know?” Force my voice to stay even.
“No, Sir. I happen to have a visitors badge with me. May I ask that the lady puts it on, to prevent further alarms.” He winks. Vasquez always has a visitors badge somewhere on his person. His appetite for good looking young men is legendary. Tosses it to Seraphina, who pins it to her blouse.
“Thank you. That is most kind. See you at the range Sunday?”
He gives a sketchy salute. “Shall do, or at the club later. Your last score was pure luck, you know that, right?” Salute him back. Two hand motions and his squad is heading back the way it came.
Waiting. Worst part of the job. Call up the defence plan. Fully armoured squads on all entrances, a Guard medic team in to watch the patients. Call the sergeant over and arrange for crawlers in the ductwork above and below the Enhancement wing, just in case. Nasty bit of tech, crawlers. Mobile, multi legged mines about the size of a big spider, that burrow into you before they explode.
A gentle sigh of air as the airlock opens. I'd recognise Margareta anywhere, even in full armour. Officially the guard has a height requirement for the men and women who enrol there. She is a full seven centimetres below the height requirement. Not exactly sure, but I assume she ripped the arms off the recruiter who tried to tell her she was too short, and no one has dared mention it since. She stalks over. She usually does that aggressive walk around me, seeing as I tend to put her husband in harms way, but this time it is not aimed at me.
“Suilien and Reeves are fine. Mortimer – well, he'll be lucky to be a cripple, but we caught it in time. N'gomo was dead when we got here. Massive power surge to his optical implants. Burnt out his brain” She gestures wearily, and strips off her helmet. Makes the shorthand gesture those with implants use to say we have seen from a distance. “Sorry about that idiot, Hicks. His family has pull.”
I grunt and make a dismissive gesture. Hicks is irrelevant. Two Zeros dead or disabled, now that is going to be a problem. I give a quick wave at Seraphina. “Captain Flores, Seraphina Martis. Consultant I have brought in. I'll need her to have access to every member of staff in this wing.”
Margareta examines Seraphina for a minute, then surprises me by giving an elaborate bow. “You are most welcome to me, Lady. My hearth, my home and my arms are yours to command.”
“Commands, I have none. But request that we do this task quickly, that suffering may be prevented.” A formula, one I don't fully recognise. As we enter the Enhancement complex, I lag slightly behind and pull up the text of her response on my implant and set it to search mode. It can take a while.
The staff of the Centre are gathered in the canteen. Technicians, nurses, doctors, physio and psychotherapists, janitors, porters. All looking nervous and pissed off at being under guard. Stop inside the doorway. The director, a fussy little man, though a damned fine surgeon, bustles up.
“Felix, you must make them see, we need to get back to work. They have no authority t...”
“Doctor.” Raise my voice so they all can hear. Mildly surprised it doesn't liquefy the air around us. “There are hundreds of thousands of people, even within the Free State, that are perfectly capable of replacing each and every one of you. There were precisely five demon hunters in all of human space. There are now three. And you are responsible for the loss of a good man, and the crippling of a good woman. Do not speak to me of authority.”
“The council shal...”
“On matters pertaining to Hunters, the council answers to me. Not the other way round. Now, everyone. SIT.” They scramble to obey. Unlike most of the people in the Free State, these guys know exactly what I am capable of. Both physically and emotionally.“All personnel will be checked now. The guards have been instructed to shoot to kill at any unwarranted movement. So, I'd strongly suggest you don't move.”
Tap into tactical command net. “Flores, have them shoot to disable, unless Seraphina is under direct threat.”
“Wilco, you asshole, I would have anyway. You have a way to speak to her? Tell her to scratch her nose by anyone suspicious. Now get out of my command net.”
I get no respect. Pass Flores' request on to Seraphina. She is checking each person, being careful to stay out of the line of fire. Sort of situational awareness that most combat troops don't have. Flash patrolling with her, fixing each person in turn with her flat, yellow stare. Occasional scratch or her nose or ear. Nose for Flores. Ear for ones of interest to us. Flores is noting the scratches. She clicks her link open.
“What do you want doing with the ear scratches?”
“Full monitoring, but don't sweat them. Sorry I can't tell you what is going on right now, Margareta, but am not sure exactly how secure this channel is. And use interrogators you trust personally.” She looks slightly startled at the thought. Then merely thoughtful.
“You leading my man into trouble again?”
“Not if I can help it. Have too few friends to be casual with them. But, yeah, he knows about it.”
“I'm in. You are a hard man. You have to be. Besides, you need someone to wipe your nose and cover your ass.”
Seraphina finished her round of the staff. Quickly and efficiently, the Guards gathered up those who had received the nose scratching and herded them out. Mostly service staff. Look at the remaining service staff, all looking very frightened at seeing friends taken away.
“Sorry folks. Even here, there are demon threats. For the next few days, the Guard will be dealing with all service work in here, so go home. You are all clear. And we will heal your friends if we can. Doctors, nurses, you will simply have to get used to guards being present while the current Zeros are being enhanced. We cannot afford to risk them. Not now. And do your best for Mortimer, please.” They nod slowly. They will be much more careful now. Hopefully not too careful. I need Suilien and Reeves functional soonest.
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