I slid back into my car with a groan. The fight had been more annoying than anything else, but I was still sore. And stuffed on amazing food.

Definitely can’t forget that part.

I pulled out to the road and sent a prepared text to my particular Hammer Jack agent, Johansson. Just one word: Done. Along with several pictures of what I’d wound up having to face off with.

I was looking forward to a nice long drive back to my main hub that I’d set up for work out here. A nice bit of time for some music, an audio book to catch up on, a few podcasts of recent events, and whatever. It sounded good to me, and there’d be a nice fat sum in my bank account when I got there. The damn space robots were so dangerous that they automatically, by law, doubled any contract they popped up in.

Only reliable way to get private people to willingly fight them.

I had just put on some Barns Courtney when my phone started ringing. I looked at the name and sighed. It was Johansson.

Of course, I thought, answering the call. What a shock.

“Hey there Taylor!” Johansson greeted me, sounding upbeat and happy. “Got the images. Nice job! Don’t worry, you’ll get your bonus. Even if he is a runt.”

“Still counts,” I replied, glaring at the road. “And whatever it is, the answer is no.”

I wasn’t fooled by his upbeat, buddy buddy attitude for a second. He wanted something, and I wasn’t interested. I had a vacation to get to. On a cruise ship preferably. Or somewhere quiet, mountainous, and far the hell away from everything and most everyone.

Beach scenes no longer appealed to me.

“Oh come on man!” Johansson pleaded, which told me there was a lot on the line, for him. “It’s an easy one! Right in your general neighborhood too!”

“Don’t care,” I replied stoically. “I told you I was taking a long overdue vacation after this one. Not binging jobs up at the last minute. Send someone else.”

“Seriously man, it’s just a short drive and quick op!” he argued with me. “Easy peasy.”

“I’m in West Virginia farm country!” I laughed. “This job was weird, dangerous, and short, but also out in the middle of nowhere. Where exactly is this job you want me to do at?”

For a moment, there was silence, and that told me it was somewhere that nobody not in a uniform wanted to willingly go, period. I now knew for a fact I was not Johanssons’ first call for this.

“Somewhere in New York City,” he admitted, practically grounding the words out.

I burst out laughing at that.

“Seriously?!” I laughed into the phone. “You must be smoking some of the really good shit if you think I’m gonna visit that hellhole!”

“C’mon man,” Johansson pleaded. “It’s an important client.”

“It’s New York!” I countered, still amused, but starting to get annoyed now. “World capital for all the shadowy, freaky, dangerous, crazy groups that have turned the planet upside down! And that city is where the crazy masterminds, megalomaniacs, psychos and vigilante nut jobs all go to lock horns!”

“They’ve offered a lot of money,” he actually countered back, and I started to get the sense that he was playing me. Or trying to, anyway. Really he just sounded kind of desperate.

“Everyone else told you ‘hell no,’ didn’t they?” I asked in reply, smirking. Hammer Jacks were an odd community, made up of largely loner introverts and insular teams. Trying to get us to do something we didn’t want to do was a bit like trying to herd cats.

It could be done, but boy were you gonna have a hell of a time doing it.

Basically, in this screwed up modern world, we were the legal version of armed vigilante truckers, for hire.

“Everyone gave the same excuses you gave,” Johansson complained. “‘It’s too dangerous,’ ‘it’s New York,’ ‘it’s whatever and screw you!’”

“And I’m joining that group.” I chuckled, reaching to turn the phone off.

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“Double your vacation budget!” Johansson quickly cut in, sounding panicked. “And in your favorite form of payment; tax free precious metals.”

I blinked at that.

Everyone knew I took my payments almost exclusively in silver and gold, with only a fraction in dollars or digital. And the cash, whether paper of digital, was for expenses and electronic or online orders. Metal was tax free, and silver and gold were always worth something to someone, anywhere and everywhere.

But shipping it and buying it weren’t exactly cheap.

Nor was my planned vacation.

Damn it. I thought, annoyed with myself. The son of a bitch has piqued my curiosity! Crap!

I knew I was going to regret it, since if I asked about it, I was going to get more involved, I just knew it. I opened my mouth to tell him hell no, but the sheer amount of money he was tossing my way, and my own curiosity at this mess reared up inside me. I couldn’t help it; I had to know.

Damn it! I swore to myself. Still, it could be pretty damn boring, and he could just be his usual greedy self, promising way more to clients than he should.

With him, and with all the Hammer Jack Agents, or Coordinators as some of the more melodramatic podcasters called them, it could be either one.

“What is this job that’s got you so damn desperate?” I couldn’t help but ask. “I mean, it’s New York! Hammer Jacks avoid that damn city as a rule!”

Truthfully, we avoided just about every major city these days. They’d almost all become war zones of one kind or another in the last few decades. Didn’t matter which country, they’d all gotten collections of heavily armed, physics-breaking or biological-altering nutcases in them.

Or small armies of warring space robots.

Or other, shadowy, darker, weirder stuff.

New York, however, had it all.

“State House Rep’s daughter went on a sorority trip, and Mommy and Daddy are very worried that they haven’t heard from them.” Johansson quickly filled me in. He knew my curiosity was inching towards his hook, but he also knew it would only go so far.

Guy got me more dangerous jobs, and into more trouble than any other agent. Though to be fair, he got me a lot more money too. It was a vicious cycle.

“Isn’t that normal on a sorority vacation?” I asked, rolling my eyes as my boredom instantly began to rise again. “What, isn’t that just spring break and they’re all out having wild orgies? I doubt she wants to call up Mom and Dad in the middle of that.”

“I think it’s supposed to be some kind of female empowerment thing.” Johansson sounded like he was trying not to puke at that. I agreed with the sentiment.

“Pass then,” I snapped, glaring back out on the dirt road. “I ain’t wasting my time, or risking my life trying to rescue some femanazi activist brat!”

“She and her whole sorority of like thirty plus rich girls have been silent for a couple of days now,” he countered, tone turning a bit serious. “It’s likely by the time you get there and find them, and save them, they’ll be cured of that stupidity. And even if not, you’ll get paid either way.”

“And if I get there, find them, and there’s nothing going on?” I asked, chuckling. “She just wanted a break from rich Daddy and hovering Mommy?”

“You still get paid,” Johansson answered immediately, surprising me. “I secured that promise from them, in writing, before I started trying to coordinate someone to go and find the brat. They’re a government family in the State of New York, they ain’t gonna miss the money either way.”

“Huh,” I grunted, thinking it over. “And if it is bad?”

“Save them all if possible, but definitely save her. She’s the priority, period,” he listed off. “If she’s already gone, make damn sure you get proof, and if possible, a little revenge. Or a lot of revenge. We’re a full service company after all.”

“Yeah, of independent, heavily armed janitors and exterminators,” I pointed out, chuckling.

“And occasional gun toting avenging angels for hire,” Johansson finished, laughing as well. “If you want shiny knights, go get the G.I. Jacks.”

“Oh God no, anyone but that collection of wannabe action figures run amuck!” I groaned. “They get caught half the time by those giant snake worshiping freaks, and then have to launch rescue missions on top of actually doing their damn jobs.”

“Well, that’s Government Issue for you,” Johansson chuckled. “It’s why there’s a market for folks like us at all. And a growing one at that! Speaking of, shall I put you down for this job? Officially?”

I sighed. Bastard knew he had me. Rescuing a bunch of college girls? Hard to pass that up. Though it was getting easier every year with the attitudes girls got from so-called women’s studies. Or equity training. Or Marxist Indoctrination.

All the same thing really.

I shook my head, refocusing.

It wouldn’t do to dwell on the last college educated girlfriend I’d had. That had sucked. A lot.

And not in the fun ways.

Still…..I sighed.

“Yeah, I’m in you bastard. Damn it!” I groaned.

“Outstanding!” Johansson all but cheered. I rolled my eyes. Those politicians must’ve offered him a lot of money indeed.

“Sending all the relevant details to you now,” he said, now all business. “You’re gonna be in a city, so careful what ordnance you go with. The old gun control laws may be gone, and cops may be small, well armed armies these days, but nobody wants someone walking around with a grenade launcher strapped to their back.”

“During the day, anyway,” I replied dryly. “Time frame?”

“They’ve been missing, quote unquote, for about three days, so rush it, but if it’s any competent criminal group, they’re already long gone,” Johansson stated soberly. “However, if they were taken by one of the nut job groups, there could still be some hope. I’d suggest haste.”

“It’ll be two days, at least, minimum till I’m properly on site to even start looking,” I protested. “I’m in Virginia!”

“Drive faster,” he replied, and I could hear him shrugging over the damn phone. “Needs must my boy. There’s a bunch of girls out there that may, or may not, need some saving!”

“Ungh,” I grunted, rolling my eyes and ending the call.

It seemed I had some work to do, work I was apparently already late for.

And then, assuming I survived, off to my vacation.