Interlude – A Roaming Raccoon’s Reasonable Relationships [Part Five]

Interlude – A Roaming Raccoon’s Reasonable Relationships [Part Five]

Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong, and all at once too.

The info that Jerusalem had picked up pointed to part of the city that was way, way off on the edges.

It was still within the walls that they’d put up last week, but only barely. A fully-industrial sector that was impossible to fly over. There were literally thousands of smokestacks and chimneys all squeezed in together over large, brown and black buildings that were all function and no form.

Coco said that no one sane lived in this part of the city, and Rac believed her. She’d spent most of her life living in the undercity of New Montreal, where a lot of smaller factories and assembly plants were tucked away. She’d met some workers, usually maintenance people for the droids that worked the lines, so she picked a few things up, if only by osmosis.

The factories under the city didn’t make things from nothing. Instead, they received refined, already-processed materials, and turned those into stuff.

A factory making toys would receive blocks of plastic, metal ingots, and stacks of processed and recycled rubbers from elsewhere, then the factory would turn that into an end product.

Those materials came from here. The chemical heart of New Montreal.

The things brought into this part of the city were all precursor chemicals. Petrochems, monomers, polymers, plant extracts, unprocessed minerals and metal, heaps of auto-sorted recyclable goods. They were trucked in by the metric shitload then synthesised or broken apart, boxed, and shipped out to some other dreary, dank place.

The stolen gear was hiding in a warehouse, smack in the middle of the industrial sector.

As it turned out, the ‘ground’ level was actually about four levels off the actual ground. There wasn’t an undercity here. Everything was on solid Earth, but at the same time, the entire industrial landscape was above a thick multi-levelled platform, with interior roads, warehouses, factories, and plants all over. Only the plants that needed more vertical room poked out above the rest.

They’d started by looking at a few incomprehensible maps that Spider drew up. The underground here was a maze of passages and corridors and interconnected spaces. The 3D mapping software didn’t have the guts to lay it all out, but Rac got the broad strokes. She’d lived in a place just like this, it wasn’t so hard to orient herself.

The plan, once they’d figured out where to hit, was simple enough.

The goods would have to be moved eventually, and they happened to be in a large warehouse with only one exit. Attacking the warehouse was… not a good idea. There were PMCs hired to protect it. So, they’d hit whatever transport left the place.

That meant parking a floor below the target warehouse, then breaking into another warehouse a floor lower, cutting through the ceiling, and hoisting themselves up through the floor.

In the end, Rac, Garter, Spider and Coco were all hiding in the warehouse right across the road from the one with the prosthetics.

The plan was nice and simple, and of course, it went to shit within about two hours.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Garter swore under his breath. He’d stuck his head out from cover for just a split second and three rounds had zipped by.

Rac had just discovered, a few minutes prior, that when a bullet hissed, it was close, and when it made a snap, that meant she’d almost lost her head.

Garter leaned against their cover, which was a large cement barricade that was absorbing a fair bit of damage at the moment, and started to reload his gun. “We can’t stick around here,” he said.

“Can’t exactly leave, now can we?” Coco shot back. She was cradling her leg, which was pissing hydraulic fluid and a bit of blood all over.

She was grounded, just like the rest of them. The only one with a good idea of what was happening on the other side of the barrier was Spider, and he didn’t look ready to move either.

About two hours into their wait, six trucks had rocked up out of nowhere and mercs started rushing their target. The news, it seemed, had gotten out.

Garter had Spider open the door to their warehouse, which predictably had led to the mercs opening fire at Rac and her team.

Then the PMCs guarding the prosthetics joined in on the fun.

This wasn’t some low-budget rent-a-cop outfit. These were professionals. Of the ‘oh shit, oh fuck’ variety.

They’d opened up the large doors of the warehouse, revealing a few APCs with roof-mounted guns that had torn into the merc’s technicals.

The firefight was almost entirely one-sided. For about ten long minutes.

Then more mercenaries had shown up. These ones better equipped, with armoured vehicles of their own, deployable cover, remote-firing guns, and all sorts of gadgets.

The whole thing had devolved from there.

Now there was a three-way fight, sorta. Mercs were opening up on mercs, but mostly they were fighting the PMCs.

Spider: Fuck.

Rac blinked. That had been the first thing Jerusalem had said in a while. At first he was mostly keeping them appraised while they kept their heads down. The mission had gone tits up, and Rac for one wanted nothing more than to leave, but their path out was blocked. They had empty space to their left and right, and were across the street from the PMCs. Any fire shot at the mercs flew in their direction.

“What’s wrong?” Garter asked.

Spider: Mecha.

“What?”

There was a loud explosion, and Rac winced as a wash of hot air and dust burst past them.

She blinked, then did something she knew, consciously, was stupid. She glanced over the top of the barricade.

There were now three all-black mechanised tanks in the middle of the street. Big things, standing on four articulated legs that ended with threads like a tank’s. Their top halves were boxy and armoured, and covered in guns.

“Where the fuck did those come from?” Coco asked.

The mechs opened up on the mercs, answering that question.

The mercs returned fire with some haste, and the mecha flowed to one side, taking cover behind the burning wrecks of a few vans and an old six-wheeled APC.

“We are so fucking fucked,” Garter swore.

Rac didn’t like it. He was usually so cool and composed. Now it almost looked like he wanted to cry.

Spider: Dear Mom,

Spider: I know I wasn’t always the best son

Spider: But sometimes you were a shit mom

Spider: My will sends all of my money to Aunt Katia. I know you hate her.

Spider: Fuck you

Spider: PS: I’m dead.

“Is that your fucking obituary?!” Rac shouted.

Jerusalem raised his arms in a sort of ‘what do you expect me to do’ gesture.

Rac grit her teeth. She was dead. Was going to die. Caught in the crossfire of a street war she was totally unequipped for.

And here she’d thought she was hot shit with her cool bullet-proof skinsuit and bigass shotgun.

She didn’t need a shotgun, she needed… the kind of shit Samurai had. Which meant… she only really had one option if she wanted to survive this.

“Damnit,” Rac swore.

She dialled. Somehow, the call connected through what was probably six layers of ECM. “Yo?” It was Cat’s uncaring, casual voice on the line.

Rac still called out her name. “Cat?”

“Yes?”

“I, ah, might be in a bit of trouble.”

Spider: Got one!

“Got it how?” Garter asked.

One of the mecha stomped out of cover and turned, it’s side-mounted guns opened fire, spraying explosive rounds against the far wall of the street.

“Okay. How much is a bit?” Cat asked.

Rac shrugged back down into cover and tried to tune out the explosions, the swearing, and the renewed fire. She was pretty sure a new group of mercs had just arrived. Or PMC reinforcements. In either case, it just got worse. “Well, we’re pinned down right now. Spider hacked one of the bots, but it’s only distracting them. Coco’s shot, and Garter’s saying that we’re going to have to try and save our ammo. And I’m out of grenades.”

“A bit. Where are you, exactly, and what the hell are you up to?” Cat asked.

“It’s complicated,” Rac said. She didn’t want to sound like she was on the verge of panicking. But she kind of was.

“Uh-huh. Can you not die for like, a few minutes?”

“I’ll try?” Rac said. She didn’t sound so certain, even to herself.

“Sorry, something’s come up. I need to get geared up,” Cat said. She wasn’t talking to Rac. “Rac? Hey ,can you still hear me? Yeah, so… this trouble, is it ‘show up with a pistol’ trouble or is it more than that?”

There was another explosion, someone shouting “He’s got an RPG!”

“More? Definitely more,” Rac confirmed.

“Hmm, alright! See you in a bit!”

Coco shook her shoulder. “Rac? Stay with me, sweetie.”

“I just called someone,” Rac said.

“What, did Spider give you ideas?” Coco asked. “We’ll make it, we’ll make it.”

“We’re so fucked,” Garter contradicted her.

The firefight actually cooled off a moment later. Rac peeked out, then hid again when something like a security bot spun around and snapped a shot in her direction. The PMCs had gotten reinforcements for real, then. A half-dozen androids and war drones.

The mercs had taken to the entire right side of the street while the PMCs set up barricades and defences on their side. It was a stalemate, and it wasn’t going to last long.

There were more mercs on this job than PMCs. It didn’t matter that one side had mecha. They’d be overwhelmed, especially if someone like Spider could get through their protections, even for a moment.

Rac clutched her gun close and waited, hoping that Cat didn’t take her time over this, because she really couldn’t afford that right now. Also, now that the adrenaline was calming, she realized a few things. Her hands hurt from gripping her gun so hard, her teeth hurt from clenching so much, and she really had to pee.

Spider: Oh.

Spider: Well, it was nice working with you.

“Spider?” Rac asked as she read the message on her augs.

Then she heard it, the crunch of something moving over concrete. The shadow of something large swept over them, and she looked up as the top of one of the warmechs became visible over the barrier.

It was over.

The mech was large, with a gun on its right side, and a large shield on its left, one already marked and blemished by bullet scores and burns.

Coco rose up on one leg, screaming incoherently. She fired her gun right up at the mecha.

Rac decided that she was going out fighting too, jumped to her feet, and fired as well.

It wasn’t doing anything. They had guns made to take out people, not war machines. There was laughter on a loud-speaker, and she realised it was coming from the machine. Whoever was controlling it thought that they were funny. Garter was on the ground, crying, Spider was… doing something hacker-like.

Rac wasn’t sure if these were the people she planned on dying with, but it looked like she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

Then she ran out of ammo. She dropped her gun, going for the next thing she had, a little handgun strapped to her back which would do even less.

Something wavered in the air before the mecha even as it swung its gun around to aim at Rac and her friends.

“Sorry I’m late,” a very familiar voice said.

A moment later the mech was flying

backwards.

A shadowy, warped vision filled the air. A huge cat, larger than any real feline had any right to be, was there and then not.

It pounced away just as the mech crashed back-first onto the street, sparks flying all over as it skid on the road.

The second mech in the group turned, raising its large gun and opening fire.

Something blurred to the side, then there was an unholy Brrrrt and a stream of lead came out of nowhere and splattered across the front of the mech. It raised its shield, and Rac jumped into cover as what felt like thousands of rounds ricocheted all over the place.

The Brrr eventually slowed down to a stop. “Well, shit, these really do lack penetrating power,” Cat’s voice said.

The mech spun around and fired again.

This time, it seemed like Cat was done hiding invisibly. Her mech melted out of thin air.

Rac has seen the machine sitting out at Lucy’s place. It was impressive, sure, but… well, it had always been a large, immobile cat-shaped thing. The entire house was a giant metal cat. She’d kind of grown dismissive of it.

Now it was bounding to the side, weaving out of the way of shots from the warmech like something alive. It moved like nothing mechanical should. “Alright, what about these, then?”

The sides of the warmech opened up and two large guns folded out of it. They were large enough Rac could fit a fist into their barrels. Almost as soon as they clunked out of hiding, they both opened fire, leaving two thin trails of vapour in their wake and a pair of twin ‘bangs’ that made the floor jump.

The mech that Cat had fired at exploded in the middle, scrap chunks of metal flying all over.

The third decided not to stay immobile and charged forwards, shield raised in front of it at an angle as if to deflect the next shots.

The cat mech raised its head. Its chest opened up. Energy collected in its frame. The entire cat lit up, as if there were hundreds of LEDs hidden along every angular edge of its all-black armour. Rac felt the hair on her head and arms rising.

Then there was a flash.

The third mech was vaporised from the hips up.

So was the wall behind it, and the one behind that.

A few of the little security bots opened up on Cat’s mech, but their bullets pinged uselessly off of its armour, and its single shoulder-mounted Gatling gun swept all the way around, wiping them out with ease. Of course, it was missing its gun on one side, but the mech just casually walked up to one of the larger drones, placed its paw on its head, then activated four claws that were so dark they sucked in the light around them and swiped them through armour and plastic as if it was nothing.

“Alright,” Cat announced. “We’re done here. Next fuckwit that raises a gun gets dead. Got it?”

The mercs seemed to agree with the general sentiment, and the PMCs didn’t seem to have much of a fight left in them anymore.

Spider: Dear Mom,

Spider: Sorry about earlier

Spider: We still on for Brunch on Saturday?

The fight seemed like it was over.

The mech leaned forwards, and its front half unfolded to reveal Cat, in her Samurai gear, standing up from a tiny, cramped cockpit within the mech.

Rac almost started to step forwards when she saw the first mech, the one Cat had thrown back, turning its gun towards Cat. “Watch ou—“

The world became heat.

A wash of fire and light and warmth that stung filled the corridor for just a split second, then receded.

What was left in its wake was a large hole in the ground where the mech had been. The concrete road had melted in a large circle, the edges of it, still with some pieces of the mech melted in, were still on fire.

A woman all in black was standing nearby, casually holding onto a little flamethrower. “Cat. Please pay more attention,” she said.

Rac swallowed while Cat laughed it off.

She was, she realised, never going to have that casual ability to do violence and shrug it off that a Samurai had.

And now she had to talk to two of them and say thank you.

She almost wished she was hiding behind a crumbling barricade again.

***

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep