Chapter Fifty

Julius had gone ahead of us, with Dondo flying the rest of the team directly above the transport, ready to give a hand if we need it.

I was also conscious that we were travelling with an absolute fuckload of easily moved wealth, so if Oshbob had any holes in his syndicate, we were likely to get hit.

Then there was the minor risk of the ghost squads as well… and…

The list was endless, but I’d spoken to the rest of the team—once Dondo and Oshbob were gone—and they’d agreed it was the best plan.

We’d also started the ball rolling, by taking advantage of Oshbob’s ‘services’.

I’d cleaned out our account in paying for this, but he’d sent a load of goblins and gangers on a raid.

‘Simpson’s Security Services’ were apparently a front for another gang’s stolen security tech on the far side of the city, and Oshbob had his eye on it as an acquisition anyway.

He was hitting it tonight to clear out all the security gear we wanted, to teach the other gang their place, and was getting paid into the deal, so he was fine with it.

It also meant I owed the fucker a favor, but hey. Might as well test the waters, as we were ‘allies’ now.

I shifted as we bounced over a pothole in the road, the transport shuddering at the weight of us all, and I couldn’t help but feel the absence of Scott and Fergie, as well as yeah, Barnes. He’d been a fucking idiot, and fresh to the team, but he deserved better.

We were crouched, braced, around Oshbob’s ‘loan’ and I couldn’t help but stare into the swirling, mesmerizing mass.

He’d had to send his people running in all directions to get this, I had to bet, but a massive container holding three hundred thousand credits worth of pure nanites was going to be a hell of a draw for the specters.

We were too big to go into all the small side tunnels hunting the fuckers after all, we’d have to stay in the center of the nest, and somehow draw them all to us.

Best way to draw Specters? Well, they only wanted two things. Fresh pure nanites, and mods.

We’d be deliberately radiating in the electromagnetic spectrums—the systems we usually employed to hide it, could, and had been flipped to make sure we instead drew attention—and while we didn’t have ‘mods’ they could use in the traditional sense, we should be a target too tempting to turn away from.

“You ready?” I asked on the link between the three suits, getting nods and grins from Richie and Sync.

“Always,” Richie said, as Sync just smiled. “So boss, you know how we couldn’t make changes to our suits before…”

“You can now,” I said. “I know you always wanted to try the drone brigade.”

“Fuck yes.” He grinned. “You won’t regret it,” he assured me.

“Can I upgrade as well?” Sync asked, and I nodded, having told the pair everything already. “I’m betting that if the Stinger collective can’t get me a better weapon, they can put me in touch with a custom armorer.”

She hefted the massive rifle in one hand, and I nodded, knowing that if she went all out on the railgun design she’d been talking about for years? She’d be able to take down anything that fucked with us.

Reign would be able to use the same kit as well, and as much as she kept talking about being worried about being crap compared to Sync, she’d end up with loads of new weapons at this rate.

“We’re two minutes out,” Reign sent on the Tac-net and I sent her my thanks, before responding to Julius’ message that had arrived at the same time practically.

All he got though, was a wink.

We shifted around inside the transport, me mentally adding a secure transport to the list of things we needed, possibly airborne, as it slowed and turned, before backing up.

I got linked into a conversation that was ongoing by Julius and I had to smile to myself.

“…I mean it!” someone was saying. “Look, if you don’t have the numbers to take this job on, you should never have signed the contract! You saw the failure clause, you agreed to it, and now you’re trying to renegotiate? No, you had your chance. Pay the debt and—”

“Carlton.” Julius cut the shorter man off, mid-harangue. “You don’t understand, but that’s fine. I was offering you the chance to renegotiate our deal, for your benefit. Not mine.”

“Bullshit, you haven’t got the mercs to be able to clear the site. You’ve only got half your damn squad of ‘celebrities’ from the cooling towers job,” a third man scoffed, and I recognized him as Tree’s second in command, presumably the new team lead of the backstabbing elven bastards.

Clearly Reign and the others had just landed, and I could barely contain my grin as I heard the purr in Julius’ voice as we finished backing up, the transport stopping.

“What’s this?” the elf asked with a sneer. “Some last-minute, desperate ass attempt to save your reputation and guild? You’ve no chance Julius, accept it, pay the fine and…”

“No,” Julius said simply. “This was never the last minute, this was always the plan, and you stabbing me in the back and leaving the guild? The only ones that were fucked by yours and Trees’ betrayal were you, Atmos.”

Julius turned to face the owner of the site we were to hit, and spoke in a louder, and proud voice, clearly knowing exactly the effect this was going to have on the situation.

“Carlton, you hired us to clear out the building nest in your site, you’ll remember that I warned you that timing would be tight, but that I’d make sure it was done, you remember?”

“I do,” the little man replied, sounding unsure suddenly, presumably at the way that he was being looked at by those around him who knew what was coming.

“Well, you’ll also remember that I agreed you could have access to the recording that any of my guild members made as they cleared the site, provided it did not include access to, or demonstrations of guild and government restricted technologies? That anything that showed that, was the property of the guild alone, and we would share only what we chose? That we might decide to share it all, or none, but that we owned it, not you?”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Yes, yes! Get on with it!” Carlton snapped, waving one hand.

“Very well, I just wanted to make sure our position was clear.” Julius smiled toothily. “Well, it gives me great pleasure to introduce The Valiant Heart Dreadnought team.”

With that, the roller door on the back of the transport started rising, clattering away as it went, and several of the more trusted of Julius’ teams, notably Liolet at the front, shone lights in, and on us, as we stepped out, just as the heavens opened.

I was the first in line, the massive shoulders and head of my APS barely making it out of the transport without damaging it, the concrete under foot crunching as I stepped down, rain spattering across my gleaming armor as I straightened up to my full height with a whirr of servos that hung in the sudden utter silence.

The standard army camo paintjob had been redone in a matter of hours, and it’d need to be redone properly, but for now?

I towered over the stunned and suddenly terrified Carlton and Atmos, fully armored, gleaming in black magnificence, gold highlights reflecting the neon lights. My shoulder mounted railguns unfolded, swinging around, locking into place and extending, cluster-bomb dispensers sliding open as I slid the covers back, then deliberately ‘twitched’ them.

All the control surfaces that were publicly demonstratable, and imposing, shifted, the suits making small noises as we geared up for war. It was a stupid thing, seriously it was, but the vids of the APS as we bounded into battle always showed us ‘powering up’ beforehand, just to make us more impressive, and fuck me the effect was noticeable.

I hefted my massive rifle, the feed from my backpack to the bottom of the gun shivering as I loaded the weapon with an ominous clunk, and I hefted a massive cylinder, the same size as one of the cowering figures, full of quicksilver nanites, effortlessly with the other hand.

Richie stepped out behind me, taking up station on the left, and Sync moving to the right, Richie deploying his larger, armed, drone—that had been a goddamn expensive purchase an hour ago, but worth it—and hefted his rifle, and Sync stood ready.

Her sniper variant of the standard rifle was imposing enough, the added length to the barrel, the sheer mass, convincing people that if she wanted to, she could kill a god with it.

That the people before us had seen the vids of the APS at war was made extremely clear as they stared up at us, mouths hanging open in shock and terror.

“Sarge?” Julius called up to me, and I looked down at him.

“Yes, Guild Master?” I grated out, all flat power and distant threat, with just a hint of respect.

“Wipe out that nest.”

“Yes, Guild Master,” I replied flatly, before stepping forwards, the sheer unstoppable bulk of the suit making the remaining members of Trees’ squad back up, and then rush to the side out of the way.

The last thing I heard from Carlton was as we were striding past, and he grabbed onto Julius’ sleeve, his attitude totally different.

“Ten years!” he begged. “A ten year contract, all our sites! You’ll protect them all, as long as we get full rights to…”

“I’m sorry,” Julius said, a wide smile on his face. “We already finished negotiations, and you signed the deal, remember? I gave you a chance to change your mind, but…”

That was it, as we strode past and headed to the entrance, Reign and Todds on the left, escorting us, Gessh and Luna on the right, the rest of the guild, the loyal members anyway, moving out to take up position, ready to catch anything that got around us.

Liolet let out a low whistle as we stomped past, before offering a salute, unable to keep from grinning hugely as I nodded to him, with Richie and Sync doing the same.

“Dreadnought?” I sent to Julius, who just sent me an image of a winking face in return, apparently busy fielding calls, as some were already streaming in.

He’d warned us on our way over that in a matter of minutes there’d be a media presence, they were already following the guild after the cooling tower job, but they’d started drifting away to other things.

Now that the ‘dreadnought’ team had been unveiled? They’d be back, and at a horrific speed.

We’d agreed that if he reached two million credits as a deal—split fifty-fifty, between the guild and my team—then we’d let one of the teams send a drone in to watch.

I didn’t want one following us around, but also, I did want a share of a fucking million credits, so, you know.

As it was though, we stomped through the driving rain, the darkness of the night only broken by neon flashes of adverts and sirens in the distance.

The suit picked up and isolated thousands of sounds, locking them into threat zones, identifying distant gunfire, screams and the warbling sirens of the various departments. I dismissed them all, unimportant.

Nothing was closer than half a mile, and while, sure, a sniper could hit me from that range easily with modern mods and weaponry, the sound of the gunshot wouldn’t be the first I knew of that. It’d be the fucking bullet plinking off my armor—provided it was a normal sniper—and the boom of Sync returning the favor.

Fortunately nobody was so stupid tonight, and we closed the distance to the entrance, Gessh and Todds hurrying forwards to the main gate, ready for us.

This nest was underground, we knew that, and we’d been warned there would be a mass of tunnels. This was an old sub-level public transport system. Here they’d bring out and send in the carriages for the mag-trains when they needed maintenance.

The doors were massive, designed for heavy machines to enter, and they were in turn set into the side of a massive stone edifice, reinforced over and over to allow more building overhead.

The result was that the place looked like the kind of situation old world leaders liked to believe they could ride out nuclear warfare in.

This had been one of the deeper public transport lines supposedly, and it’d been sealed away when those levels were abandoned. Something had clearly made a hole, and then more, eventually that had led to the specters creating a nest for whatever weird ass logic they followed, and starting to build their forces.

The contract called for minimal structural damage where possible, but the elimination of the specters was the absolute priority. This section was to be cleared out and used for a factory of some kind, and the owner really wanted the fuckers removed.

As we reached the doors, Todds opened them, the massive magnetic locks releasing with a solid clunk that rang through the rain sodden air, before they drew back into the recesses of the wall, exposing the tunnel as it led sharply downwards.

We triggered our floodlights, un-needed really, but damn, it created an impression, as Todds and Gessh stood there calmly, as mere meters away the first of the specters came staggering out.

At the sight of us—and the nanites—they went mad, speeding up, running, stumbling and tripping over themselves, reaching and clawing for us… until we opened fire.

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