Chapter 26

Humming a tune while I walked, I proceeded down the street in a much better mood.

There was still a need to remain cautious though. I checked behind me and avoided walking directly around corners.

I had been cornered in the street earlier today. That shouldn't have happened. Even before my alterations. Even with all of my improved senses, it happened.

That was a loud and clear sign to wake up. I was being sloppy. Thankfully, my attackers had been somewhat sloppy as well. If they had attacked in unison without any warning, I would have been ko'd. If they had used guns... I would be dead.

And what was I doing while those men tracked us down and set an ambush with almost casual ease? Looking at a beautiful girl of course! Like a dumbass.

The inn Toby had marked on the map was a mid-range one. Nothing fancy. It was a bar that catered more towards low-mid tier mercenaries. I chose it for that very reason.

The net was a great way to find information. In fact, it was ludicrously easy. However, the net wouldn't give me a perfect picture of everything happening. No matter how much of the net Toby conquered, word of mouth would always be a part of my information gathering.

I talked to the inn's owner and had a room within a few minutes of arrival. I paid for a few days in advance and left immediately. I had to get a few things.

After following the road Toby marked on my tablet, I came to a large well lit shop. It was obviously a thriving business. Stepping inside, I was met by the sight of glass display cases filled with an assortment of weapons. Blades, throwing knives, pistols, brass knuckles, body armor. Even assault rifles were displayed, though they were trigger locked and behind the counter under the heaviest security.

There were several other customers in the room being led around by employees, while a few hawk-eyed security guards stood rigidly around the edges of the room watching over everything.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. How can I be of assistance?"

Turning my eyes from appraising the room, they fell upon a grey-haired man in a fancy suit. His appearance gave me the impression of a fancy butler.

His addressing me as sir felt odd. I was still getting used to the difference my new clothes and change in physical appearance made in the way I was treated compared to before. I felt like a fraud at times. Like someone might jump out and start pointing their finger at me while declaring me an outsider and pretender.

"I'm looking to buy an assortment of things. A blade, useful for stabbing or slashing, and a waist sheath. A strong but thin blade without a guard for strapping flat to the body.

I need a good pistol as well. Something with some punch and penetration. Do you have any well rated, concealable body armor?"

The urbane man quickly tapped away at a tablet before him as I spoke.

"I also need a high-quality earpiece. Something comfortable but powerful. Do you have any flash bangs?"

The man's neutral demeanor slipped a bit at sight the growing list before him. He grew more ingratiating and his professional smile transformed into a real and warm one. He must get a commission or something.

"Do you want a powderless handgun? The rate of fire is better. They need almost no cleaning. They are less noisy and hold more ammunition. Some of our better models can pierce level 5 personal body armor with ease. They are pricier but besides having to supply the weapon with batteries to work, they are better in every way compared to powder weapons."

The assault rifle I had left inside the Calipso's storage compartment was powderless.

"Do you have a shooting range? I think it would be best to get a feel for what I want. Money isn't so much the issue. I want what's best for me."

"Of course. It's in the basement for safety concerns. Would you like to proceed to the range first or select your other equipment?"

"Other stuff first."

"Of course. Please follow me, sir. There is a back room meant to offer our better customers privacy. You can also change into the concealed body armor in the room. It goes under the clothes and hugs the skin."

Selecting most of the equipment was a simple and easy thing. The knives I selected were matte black and of high quality. Both of which had "atom thin" blades.

I doubted whether the man was just pumping me up, but the blades were viciously sharp. The assistant had been able to cut through a piece of steel with little force. He said the blades should pierce through lvl 4 armor with 25kg of force behind the stab and not break, bend, or chip.

The body armor came next and I simply selected the highest rated concealable armor shown to me. It was as thin as a t-shirt and only a little heavier than it looked.

The assistant sang his praises about the armor but made sure to mention that while the armor did rate as a level 4 body armor, it did not stop all of the kinetic force behind the bullet or stab. So getting shot or stabbed would likely leave a nasty bruise.

The armor was comfortable and allowed some airflow as well. If you didn't know better it would seem like nothing more than an undershirt that hugged the body tightly. The material seemed very similar to the material used in the dead nobles armor.

The earpieces brought before me varied greatly, but after a few minutes, I found a pricy one that seemed durable and discrete with an incredible battery life.

While costly, it was worth it. It would allow me to interact with toby while out and about more easily. The microphone could pick up my whispers in a crowded and noisy room. Its signal range was also the best.

"The shooting range is this way, sir. We can discuss your options there."

After going down a level and into the underground shooting range, I was told I would be charged at cost for ammunition, and handed weapon after weapon to test fire.

Most of the weapons didn't feel right. The assistant patiently went from one model to another before I found the one I liked.

"Are you sure about this sir? While this pistol does pack a punch and is the pistol with the most penetration, it isn't technically powderless."

The pistol I had selected was massive as far as pistols went. It was an odd selection no doubt. But I had fallen in love with the gun immediately. The long blocky barrel was a work of art. It was extremely loud and it wasn't completely powderless. I would need to clean it from time to time. It didn't even hold more than 8 rounds in its cylinder. Yeah... It was a revolver. Caveman tech.

None of that mattered. It was the most beautiful pistol I could ever dream of. It used both magnetic acceleration AND a special mix of propellant to fire large rounds down range with incredible force. The gun was basically an anti-material rifle in pistol form.

You might think 8 rounds was an incredibly small amount. And it is, but this pistols rounds were special. There was an incredible number of different types of rounds.

Normal accelerator weapons just fired slivers of metal. Small slivers of metal could be tightly packed together. The rounds of this weapon were at least 10 times larger. The extra mass did add more lethality to the round, but more importantly, the extra types of rounds needed to be larger to even work properly.

You could use nonlethal rounds, flash bang rounds, HE rounds, armor piercing rounds, even emp rounds, and incendiary rounds.

All of which was controlled by an onboard computer. The computer would allow you to do things like time the explosive rounds to explode just on the other side of an obstruction or trigger a flashbang round at the best instant.

A simple flick of a recessed button allowed the pistol to quickly switch between different ammo types already loaded into the weapon or it could be done with voice commands. The pistol could fire without battery, a design choice I very much agreed with. There was even handprint recognition.

The shop assistant didn't seem to support my decision despite the large price tag on the weapon. He gave me his honest opinion.

"Sir, the Desolator is an incredible weapon with a lot of neat tricks and a ton of penetration power. However, it's bulky and heavy. It has a slow rate of fire and holds only 8 rounds. The recoil is also incredibly fierce. It needs to be cleaned and its ammunition is only available in Anarchy city."

The recoil and the weight of the gun were not much of a problem for me despite the man's concerns. The weapon felt only a little heavy on the front end and the recoil was jarring but manageable. The name Desolator would have to go, but otherwise, functionally the weapon was amazing. If I had this pistol, I could severely damage a Goliath. A PISTOL able to damage armor!

The last part of what he said caught my attention, however. The assistant seemed to notice and continued.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"This weapon is a new concept designed and built by a weapon designer here in anarchy city. Besides the original designer and a few shops like us, there is nowhere else in the world that sells this weapon and its ammo. I am not trying to upsell you, sir, it's one of our most expensive weapons. The weapon is a fantastic piece of work, but it's still early in its design and testing phase."

I mulled that over for a while.

"Still early in its design and testing phase? It isn't defective is it?"

"No, no, no. It works perfectly. But it's not very suitable for carrying around the city. It's a cannon meant to pierce heavy plate body armor rated lvl 7 and even higher. It's overkill. Honestly, it's just a showpiece. A trinket."

That was fine. I didn't mind overkill. If i needed to shoot some core beasts, overkill would be great! The low number of rounds and the rarity of its ammo was a concern though. I still wanted the gun. After a minute of thinking and weighing the gun in my hand, I made a decision.

"Bring me a secondary pistol. Something I can strap under my left arm and conceal within my coat. Make it powderless with a high rate of fire and a built-in suppressor."

He seemed to understand what I wanted and he helped me select and nifty pistol that collapsed down to a small-ish metal block on a strap under my arm. It didn't even cause a bulge in my coat. Despite its small size, it carried 40 rounds. It lacked some penetrating power but made up for it with the ability to fire at an incredible rate. The built-in flip-up holographic sight was also nice. The weapon was named the Widow. Very unoriginal.

I was happy with my selection and ordered a ton of extra rounds for each weapon sent to my current place of residence. Most of the rounds where basic rounds meant for practice, but I made sure to buy at least 80 of each special round as well. Those special rounds were very expensive in the end.

"What about grenades. What have you got?"

"The flashbangs are simple. There are a few different types. Any explosive grenade or ones with emp capabilities are not for sale to be carried in the city."

I bought 6 small flashbacks and 2 gas grenades that were as small as cigarette lighters and put them in one of my inner coat pockets.

"You said not for sale for use in the city. Can I have them shipped to my armor's billet in the hanger? Or does the city hold onto them like they do my armor's weapons?"

The man showed very little surprise at the mention of me being an armor pilot. I'm guessing my high-value clothes and my spending had painted that picture for him already.

"The city holds onto the explosives and the emp grenades. Too much chaos can happen should they be allowed into the city. There is a hard ban on explosives inside the city. When you leave the city they will be returned to you."

The assistant paused before raising a finger.

"Also, I wouldn't use any explosive rounds or emp rounds inside the city. They aren't technically illegal yet, due to them being a newer product, but if security forces want to interpret the laws loosely, you could be in for some serious time behind bars. They will get around to adding them to the books eventually. Actually... I wouldn't recommend using that gun at all. Use the widow inside the city if you need to fire any weapon at all. I believe the only reason this weapon isn't banned is because it's a brand new design and so few of them exist right now."

That was good to know. It would be foolish to fire this weapon wildly inside the city even without any laws in place. The regular rounds alone could pass through multiple buildings. I thought about what else I could buy.

"Other explosives. What have you got?"

He brought his tablet up and after clicking for a few moments he spoke.

"We have an assortment of choices. We have shaped charges. Basic bricks and detonators. We have 3 different types. I recommend plastic explosive C-6. It is the most expensive but it has the best weight and mass to explosive force ratio. It's also extremely stable."

I ordered a few shaped charges for blasting through thick metal doors and two 10 kg bricks of the C-6 plastic explosives.

What was I going to use it for? I had no idea. Better safe than sorry I say. Honestly, I was surprised at how easy this was. Spending could be addictive.

It felt like I was spending money like water, but after stepping out of the shop armed about as much as any man could be while walking the city streets, I felt much more secure. Sure, my digital wallet had taken a hit to the tune of 928 gold, but it was worth it in my opinion.

I would have to find a shooting range and practice shooting. The general idea was easy to understand. However, I had only used a gun one time in combat. Using weapons I hadn't trained with at all seemed dumb. A few words to Toby and the address of a shooting range near my hotel appeared on the tablet's screen. It was less than a 15-minute walk from the hotel.

For the next two days, I hunkered down in my room and devoured information from the net. When I wasn't doing that, I was practicing with my new weapons at the range. I had to order more ammunition on the second day. My accuracy and control of the firearms improved rapidly. I was no gunslinger... yet, but the weapons no longer felt foreign to my hands. I could reach up and unholster them with fast and fluid motion. My aim was consistent and accurate. True mastery would take time, however.

Despite Toby's ability to gather large amounts of information, it was troublesome piecing it all together. I had to resort to keyword searches and think outside the box at times. It was time-consuming work.

Any time not spent shooting at the range or digging through data in an effort to work out the best method of extracting my mother from grey rock city was spent studying different pilot tactics and methods literature sent by Alice.

Alice admitted to spending at least 5 hours every day using the Calipso's simulator. I didn't mind. Toby had run estimates and the time she spent using the simulator accounted for less than 5 percent of the fuel burned in the last 2 days.

Besides talking about armor, we talked lightly about other petty things. Apparently, her mother was throwing a hissy fit and not speaking to Nicholas much. She was upset for two reasons. One being his attempted interference with Alice's plan to become a pilot. Two... was that she was pissed he chased me away.

Alice enjoyed telling the account of her mother storming away while yelling something about running her favorite new toy away. She giggled at my obvious discomfort over the phone call as she told me.

Not much else happened during those two days. The biggest change would have to be what I had found out about the current situation at Grey Rock City.

Apparently, a massive nuke detonating in the area had made the buttocks of every noble within 300km of the blast clench. It had been close to 18 years since the last nuke was used by ANYONE. The blast had been like an alarm bell ringing and every city in the region had panicked. Most of the cities entered a state of high alert. The nobles were scrambling to try and figure out what happened. Nobody had much of a clue and some nobles were not sleeping well at night due to worry. Poor them.

I couldn't give less of a shit about how any noble felt about anything, but this would affect my ability to enter and exit grey rock city. A higher level of caution from those soldiers in the city could sink the entire plan.

The new variables reinforced my plans to find the best people to smuggle me in and us out. I would need experienced and capable help in pulling this off.

It would prove difficult to find said help, however. I had begun making discrete inquiries about making a trip to a city to the west with multiple reputable private helicopter crew who also doubled as smugglers at times, and was disappointed that very few were interested in going there.

All of my preparations were made more difficult by the fact that Grey rock city was an out of the way shit hole. Very few caravans or many helicopters went to or from grey rock city. It didn't even have a true road connecting it to other cities.

Many of the cities in other areas had roads connecting them here and there. Looking at a map, the roads seemed to mimic a torn spider web. You could clearly see who liked who among the noble hierarchy based on the way the roads had been set up.

In one area you might find every city connected to each other among the small network of roads. And 150 km in another direction, you might find that another small network of roads had been set up between other cities. Neither network connected to each other and it was easy upon reflection to see why this happened.

The roads semi-accurately showed faction layouts and even the larger holdings of the more powerful southern lords.

To the north, it was a completely different story. On the other side of the massive spine like set of mountain ranges that split the north from the south, every city mapped had at least one large road attached to it.

That made going by air the best way to retrieve mother. That meant taking up a high status. Could I pull that off? No. I needed an experienced hand. Someone who knew who's hands to grease and what to not do. Someone who has made the trip before.

On the third day, I found my possible accomplice. He had the experience. He had been to grey rock city before. Most importantly, he wasn't likely to say no. My offer would be like a life jacket thrown to a drowning man. The man I chose to approach was in debt. Once an extremely successful merchant, now nothing more than a man on his last leg.

Due to the man's failure, I nearly passed on selecting him entirely. Thankfully the net gossip and some of the intelligence reports from organizations within anarchy city told his story more clearly.

Business wise, the man was impeccable. He simply trusted the wrong man. His longtime business partner decided being the top dog was better than sharing.

The man was lucky, however.

His business partner talked him into investing almost everything into a large shipment of high-value goods. His partner also arranged the mercenaries that would accompany the massive caravan. Midway to the final destination, his partner and the Mercs turned on him and his few personal guards.

So, how is he lucky?

Well, for some reason, possibly out of pity, possibly out of hatred. Instead of blowing his head off, his partner left him stranded in the wilderness. Surprisingly, the man made it back.

I read the story the man had reported upon his return and marveled at a defenseless soft handed merchant traveling 140 km on foot through the wilderness. That was when I decided to give this man a try. He had grit.

There was doubt whether the man considered himself lucky, however. His son had accompanied him on the trip and tragically, did not make it back with him.

It was a shame that despite returning to anarchy city, he couldn't do anything about his betrayal. Anarchy city had a strict non-interference policy for ANYTHING that happened outside the city's outer parameter. If it didn't happen inside anarchy city territory. They didn't care. The betrayer now being one of the largest merchants in the city didn't help matters.

On the evening of the third day, I found myself knocking on the door to a house barely better than a shack buried down a dirty alley. Hard times indeed...

After 5 minutes of beating on the door, I began to grow frustrated. Someone was home. My sense of hearing was great now. There was no way I could miss the sound of a chair scraping the floor when I initially knocked or the sound of someone approaching the door. The peephole had also gone dark for a moment.

After pounding once again I spoke in a loud but controlled voice.

"I'm looking for Jarod. I have a business proposition."

Another 30 seconds and the only reaction was the sound of a floorboard on the other side of the door creaking. I knocked more lightly and gave it one more try.

"I'm not a debt collector. I'm not here for anything shady. I have a job I need help with."

There was nothing but silence. Just when I was ready to give up, the door opened a crack. Despite the darkness between the crack, I could make out one green eye.

"We aren't interested. If you want help moving drugs, you can buzz off like the rest. My father won't help you."

The voice sounded like it belonged to a young man. Younger than me. I wanted to take offense at being taken for a drug dealer or drug smuggler but upon further thought, drug smugglers would be very interested in the services of a man like Jarod. A man like Jarod could probably be of amazing assistance to a drug lord.

The drug trade, while frowned upon by a lot of people here, was not in fact banned completely. It was another one of Anarchy city's quirks. You couldn't sell drugs within the city. Nothing, however, said you couldn't run a drug smuggling operation from the safety of Anarchy city.

It was known that several cartels set up logistics in Anarchy city and simply ferried shipments from one city to another. As long as the drugs never entered the city, Anarchy city law enforcement wouldn't say a word. There were even mercenary pilots in abundance to hire in Anarchy city if they needed some extra bang. Everyone involved won. Everyone except the poor bastards who took the drugs of course.

I had seen the effects of long term drug use. I will always remember the first time I saw a man ranting and raving like a lunatic. My mother grabbed a 7-year-old me by the arm and dragged me away while I asked a myriad of questions about the man. Eventually, my mother was able to explain the man was an addict. She had also made me promise to never do drugs. A promise I had kept despite many opportunities to partake.

Despite Jarod's destitute state, he chose to avoid the easy money of drug smuggling. I could respect that.

"No. I'm not talking about that. A real job. Clean money."

My words seemed to make the green-eyed boy think for a moment before the door opened a little more to reveal the smudged face of a black-haired boy of about 15 years.

"Why my dad? There are better options out there. Is your job dangerous?"

The kid was smart!

"If I try doing it alone it could be. That's why I need your dad."

I could swear the boy was about to close the door in my face when I heard the sound of footsteps behind me. Turning around and looking down the dank alleyway, I saw a man who appeared to be about 45 approaching in dirty work clothes carrying a sack over one shoulder.

His other hand wasn't occupied at all. In fact, he didn't have another hand. From about 4 inches below his right elbow, half of the man's forearm was missing and tapered down to a nub where the man's wrist should be.

The right side of the man's face was completely torn apart. From his ear to his upper lip and down to the bottom of his jaw, the skin was completely gone. His cheekbone could be seen along with the molars of his teeth. Even worse, a few teeth seemed to have been ripped out and deep marks could be seen running over the exposed bone and leaving trails in the flesh and tendons traveling up his face and arching around and on top of his head. It was a face that could send children running in terror.

Despite the man's deformity, he carried with himself a sense of peace and calm. He barely reacted to my presence beyond giving a slight nod and what looked to be a small smile on approach. His deformity made the smile grotesque, but I could see his intention.

"Dad, you're back!"

The door to the home swung open and the boy half ran to stand in front of Jarod. The revelation that this was Jarod did shock me a bit. The reports had mentioned him being injured during his survival in the wild, but I didn't know it had been this bad.

"Did you get anything good? There where two collectors today. They left after an hour or so of being ignored, saying they would be back tomorrow. Mom ate some food earlier. She's kept it down so far."

Jarod smiled with his eyes at his son before handing him the bag and looking at me. His son noticed the look and scowled at me.

"He was talking about a job. It seemed fishy to me. I don't like him. He looks like trouble."

Jarod laughed and ran the fingers of his only hand through his son's hair.

"You have a sharp eye, Andrew. It's always good to be cautious. But let me handle our visitor. You don't want to judge anything too early. It doesn't hurt to listen."

His son didn't seem to agree. Based on what had happened to his father, I don't blame the boy. Jarod made a fist and lightly thumped his sons head.

"I'm not an invalid. You're not replacing your father today. I still have plenty to teach you. Go. Look after your mother."

He gently chided his son with affection in his voice and eventually, the boy gave in and sulkily entered the house. Before entering he shot one last distrust filled glance at me. I smiled at him in return and nodded my head.

"How can I help you, friend? Normally, I would invite you in and offer some refreshments, but sadly I lack refreshments, and lately those that visit me are not the kind you invite into your home. Please pardon my rudeness."

I smiled and held out my left hand for the man to shake.

"Not a problem. No offense taken. My name's Caleb and I have an offer for you if you're interested. It's clean work, but not without its risk. I would rather not go into the details out here though."

The man's deep and steady green eyes studied my face and more importantly my eyes for a few moments before his intact hand reached out and grasped my own hand.

"It's a pleasure meeting you Caleb. My name is Jarod. Please, come inside so we can talk."