Chapter Thirty-Nine - Shots, Spots, Stretchers

"I'm not paid enough for this."

Jacob "Redundant" Smith, Private PMC Contractor, 2057

***

The ambulances arrived soon enough and parked themselves along one side of the road. It looked pretty organised, with the vans spinning around right away so that they were back-first to the mercs and PMCs that needed them.

Paramedics jumped out, followed by hovering drones that carried cameras for legal documentation, some remote controlled guns, and a small toolkit with medical supplies and whatever equipment the paramedics needed.

The vans were the bigger sort, with bunked gurneys so that each one could carry half a dozen patients at the same time.

I imagined that they'd all be filled up soon enough.

The mercs had stood down already, but now some of them were tossing guns and gear away as the medics arrived and started unfolding their gurneys to load up the worst and richest of the injured first.

I nodded along, happy to see that things were operating smoothly. It meant that I could refocus on Rac and her friends. "So," I said.

Rac and her little gang of weirdos were still focused on me. Especially Coco. I'd thought she was pretty cool before, but now I wasn't so sure. The woman definitely had that fan-girl vibe going on, and while that was fine, it was less fine when it was pointed my way. Rac, at least, looked better. Colour was returning to her cheeks and her eyes were sharp. It didn't look like she was going to pass out anymore.

"Uh, I guess we should see about those prosthetics?" I said. "Oh, and you can meet Gomorrah. You remember her, right Rac?"

"Yeah," Rac said. "She's moving in under you."

I nodded slowly, then decided to clarify the statement for the audience. "Yeah, she's taking over some of the floors in the building under my, uh, house."

It looked like Coco was vibrating a little as she turned towards Rac. "You know where she lives?" she asked.

Rac looked supremely uncomfortable, but also reluctant to answer. "I, uh, live with Lucy. That's Ca-- Stray Cat's wife."

"Girlfriend," I pointed out. "For now."

"You proposed?" Rac asked.

"Really, Cat?" Gomorrah asked as she came up behind me.

"What? No. I mean. I will. Eventually. I guess. If Lucy wants."

Gomorrah gave me a very unimpressed look, which was impressive considering the full-face mask that was permanently stuck in disappointed glare. She did sigh after a moment. "Actually, that makes perfect sense. She would be the one to act on it."

"What's that mean?" I asked.

"Nevermind," Gomorrah said. "I'm keeping my stones uncast here."

"Changing the topic for a moment. How did you learn where the prosthetics were? Or did you just keep up with the others swarming the place?"

Garter spoke up at last. "We were here first," he said. "Jerusalem was the one to track things down. It took tracking the goods moving around the city, then backtracking to local private military companies."

"Why PMCs?" I asked.

"Because the trail was really well covered. It was professional work, and we know what mid-level mercenaries can do. This was better. So that left either full-on corpo black-ops, or well-paid PMCs. Or, I guess samurai, but the gig's client was a samurai, so that wouldn't make sense."

"I'm following you so far," I said.

"So, yeah, Jerusalem and I got a short-list of active PMCs in the region, then we worked our way back from there. Checked on the media feeds of some members. Mostly tedious shit, but we got a few suspicious hits after a few hours which led us to this place." He gestured across the street to the warehouse the PMCs had been guarding. "After that, it was checking the cameras until we saw some suspicious vans pull in and unload the goods."

I turned and stared at the warehouse across the street. The front of it was... kinda fucked, really. The amount of gunfire being let loose around here had done a number on the thin concrete walls, leaving it chipped and cracked all over. "So, they brought my shit here, huh?"

"Yeah," Garter said. "I, uh, don't imagine this means we're the ones to fulfil the contr--" he cut off with a cough, and when I glanced back Rac was rubbing her elbow and Garter his lower ribs.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"We'll see about that," I said noncommittally. It was one thing to pay up, it was another to pay up after I had to fly over and wreck shit with my mech. Plus now I was down a bunch of ammo and up a few scratches.

Something didn't add up, though.

"Hey, Gom," I said.

"Yes?" Gomorrah asked.

"Okay, so these punks stole some of the prosthetics I was basically giving away. They passed themselves off as another gang to muddy things, then handed them off to someone else, who traded them to someone else, and at some point the things ended up here."

"I'm following you so far," Gomorrah said.

"Right, so there's a level of... uh, I guess organisation there, right?"

"Yes."

"But like..." I gestured to the road-turned-battlefield. "This is a bit much. Those are mecha. Those are APCs with fuck-you guns on them. Those PMCs are all wearing good-looking gear. They're probably not working for cheap."

"Ah, I see," Gomorrah said. "How much were the prosthetics worth?"

I let out a breath. "I don't know. Couple hundred points if you were to buy them outright." I pretended not to hear Garter choking behind me. "But like, Rac printed them for me at home. They're basically free. Right?" I asked Rac.

"I had to gather scrap for the printer," Rac muttered.

I grinned and ruffled her hair for a split second before she ducked away. "Right. Sorry. So not free. They mostly cost a few Rac-hours of work each. Which is not an impossible amount."

"Rac, you work for a Samurai?" Coco hissed.

"I get free rent," Rac muttered back.

I went on pretending that I couldn't hear them. It was too much fun, embarrassing Rac, though I didn't want to push it too far. Fun was fun, but I didn't want to actually piss her off. Even if her pouting was cute.

"So, these fucks spent... what, a few million credits on defence to steal shit that was not worth a tenth of that? It doesn't add up."

"We haven't looked into the warehouse yet," Gomorrah said. She hefted her flame thrower. "Do you think they're hiding more?"

"I'm worried about it, yeah," I said. "Rac!"

Rac jumped. "Yeah?"

"You and your buddies okay to play baby-sitters for a bit? We're gonna line up the PMCs that aren't bleeding out and have them stay in one place."

"Uh, okay. But if it's just us, they might not listen."

"You'll have the mech," I said.

"Can I ride it?" Rac asked.

I laughed. "No."

Rac pouted some more. Really, if she knew the face she made when she was disappointed, I was pretty sure she'd never express herself ever again. I was determined not to let her find out from me, though. She'd probably grow out of it soon enough.

"Right, let's see what the PMCs have to say, then... well, I'm breaking in there whether they want me to or not."

"That seems reasonable to me," Gomorrah said. "Atyacus is pulling up some concerning results. The credit-trail is extremely suspect."

Yeah, that only made sense. I sauntered over to the PMCs who didn't seem all that happy to see me and Gomorrah walking over. They also didn't seem ready to try anything.

Honestly, if they did, I might have been in a bit of trouble. I was only bulletproof at the moment. If enough of them piled on quick enough I'd have to buy a grenade or two then set them off while closer than I'd like.

Gomorrah, on the other hand, could probably fuck them all up, no problem. She was still wearing nun-stuff, but her head was clearly helmeted and her boots looked like they were made of the kind of steel used on tanks. The rest of her was hidden, but there was a lot of... thickness there that suggested she was well covered.

Also, big fuck-off flame thrower. Those were really handy in negotiations, because not only could she kill you, but it would hurt the entire time, and there wouldn't be anything left to bury.

"Hello, boys and girls," I said. "I have a lot of questions, and I think I deserve some answers."

It didn't take long to reorganise the PMCs. The lightly injured were set aside, the officers and ranked members were brought to one spot, and the rest got to sit pretty under the watchful eyes of Rac, her friends, and my very large warmech which frequently went invisible and reappeared elsewhere.

I think that last bit was just Myalis fucking with them, but I wasn't going to stop her.

***