My commlink chimes. My window is closing fast. Instead of having to deal with a few corporate stooges, we're going to have the entire PD flying down our throats in no short amount of time. Fuck.
Saba's attention is grabbed when I punch the bars of the holding cells. A few times. I lost count, actually. My knuckle hurts now, but it's in line with how shitty the rest of me feels. Not even a hair nor hide of McNamara—
The disused intercom system crackles and pops to life. First time I've heard that thing turned on in years. Someone clears their throat.
“Chambers. Rooftop, if you’d like to see them alive.”
McNamara. Fucking prick. The speakers wail with feedback as he leaves them to hang. More noise on top of noise. Fire alarm is still going. I'm not seeing much besides red. That's all it fucking takes. Saba says something, but I can't hear her. My head's ringing worse than earlier. I should be catching my breath and clearing my thoughts, but I can't. I push past Saba and sprint for the stairs. Up to the first landing. Loop around to the second landing. It's about this time that I realize I'm being stupid. I'm not even checking my corners or giving myself enough pause to figure out if this is a ruse cruise or not.
Fuck it. I don't care. Can't care. I don't have enough time to care. Up to the third story. Sprinting down the hallway. Past my old desk. Past Bobrovnikov's desk. Familiar sights that I don't have enough time to take in. I slip on a pile of papers that someone left in the middle of the throughway. I'm not sure if that's me cussing out loud, or it's just in my head. Scrambling back to my feet. I can take my anger out on the prick once I catch him.
Shoulder into the fire escape. Not the smartest idea. Even with the adrenaline pumping through my body, I can feel my body shriek at me straight through the synthmuscles. Up the fire escape. Right up to the roof.
There's the bastard. Right across the roof. Standing there with his arms folded over his chest. Cocky bastard doesn't even have a shirt on. Just a long coat, jeans, and combat boots. I could shoot his ass right now, but that's not going to tell me where my crew is.
“—Where the hell are they?”
“Skipping right to the chase, Chambers? Here I thought we could talk about old times.”
“I don't give a shit, McNamara. Are you going to monologue while I have you at gunpoint?”
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He actually laughs at that. A full blown villain laugh. It's like the guy was taking cues from old action movies. Especially his get-up. He's shredded, but I don't think that much muscle is going to stop a bullet—
THUP.
I jump out of my skin. I completely forgot that Saba was with me. She more than likely kept pace with me throughout my entire outburst. A silenced gun going off right next to your head is still incredibly loud—
McNamara's still laughing his head off. What the hell? I look between Saba and the bastard. Not a mark on him. He's a few feet to the right of where he was standing. This isn't right. There's no way someone at his pay grade has the creds to buy milspec augments that would give him the reflexes to do that, let alone the reinforcements to his body that would let him move that quickly without his muscles tearing his body apart.
“Saba, dear. I think there's a reason why you were put on that security detail. Your aim still needs work.”
I can practically feel the agitation emanating off of Saba.
It hits me. Not an augment visible on the asshole. Not even the smallest data-port or even the telltale serial numbers designating that he's had synthmuscle work done. The bastard's got a link to the Thread. A real certified supernatural prick.
This was the trap all along. He's going to kill us up here and come out looking like a hero for the shareholders, media, and public. In that order. Two former cops shoot up a cop shop—not that we killed any actual cops, just some corporate stooges—and he's the only one that's able to stop us. Someone's going to give this asshole a key to the metroplex for his good deeds. Fuck.
I hear the crunch of gravel as Saba side-steps her way to the other side of the rooftop. Overlapping fields of fire. I get it. One of these bullets has his name on it, and we're about to find out which one. There's no way he can dodge both of us mag-dumping. It's going to be a wall of lead, and he's not getting around it. Just waiting on her signal.
“—I'm surprised you fell for the oldest bait in the book, Chambers. Did you really think I was going to keep your friends here? I didn't know if you were with your scavver friends rattling the cages in the Slag, or trying to sneak in. So. Why would I risk leaving them here?” He snorts like an asshole, finally unfolding his arms. “They're in the Road Dominator. I was planning on killing them in front of you, but I'll have to settle for doing this out of order.”
Did he just tell me where they were? I know my chances are nil, but he's still the most cocky son of a bitch in the precinct. Though, I think Saba is more pissed off at being blown off so casually. He's not even looking in her general direction.
The air is suddenly filled with another burst of automatic fire. I join in, squeezing the trigger as hard as I possibly can. Not that it makes the gun fire any faster or more accurately. Make or break.