Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction ❯ Bubblegum Avatar #1 -- "Tin-Sell City" ❯ Chapter 14 - "Did Custer have days like these?" ( Chapter 14 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Trboturtle 
Aftermath of the USSD offer, Craig plays bodyguard to Priss while she's out searching for Cynthia.
Anime/Manga: Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Cyberpunk / Action | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 12.23.2005 | Pages: 6 | Words: 5.7K | Visits: 910 | Status: Work In Progress
Aftermath of the USSD offer, Craig plays bodyguard to Priss while she's out searching for Cynthia.
Anime/Manga: Bubblegum Crisis Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Cyberpunk / Action | Type: Self Insertion | Uploaded On: 12.23.2005 | Pages: 6 | Words: 5.7K | Visits: 910 | Status: Work In Progress
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Chapter 14 - "Did Custer have days like these?"
**************
It was another two hours before Craig made his way back to Sylia's building. He had taken the car back to the airport (It had been rented from there that morning by a contact of Sylia's) and had walked into one of the airport's restrooms carrying a black dufflebag. Fifteen minutes later, Crag, sans disguise, wearing a pair of jeans, sweatshirt, sneakers and bomber jacket walked out. He took a taxi to a location two blocks from the Lady633 building and walked the rest of the way. Using a side door, he slipped into the building and went up to the penthouse.
Sylia and Nene looked up and Craig walked in. There was a stunned looked on his face, and he didn't blink as he shuffled to the living room, dropping the dufflebag once he was clear of the front doorway. He ignored the two women and dropped into a chair, staring out the windows across the room without seeing anything.
"Craig, what's wrong?" Nene asked, looking concerned.
Sylia stood and walked into the kitchen. She returned with a glass filled with a almost clear liquid. She walked to where Craig was sitting and handed him the glass. "I think you can use this," she said softly.
Not looking at her, Craig reached up and took the glass. He down the contents in one go and for a second, nothing happened. Then, all at once, his face became red and, dropping the glass, he bolted for the bathroom. He reached the bathroom and slammed the door behind him, but the door couldn't block out all the sounds from within the room. Nene looked from the bathroom door to Sylia, then back to the door again.
Ten minutes later, the door opened and Craig staggered out of the bathroom. He gave Sylia a baneful look. "Wh-what was...that stuff?" he croaked.
"Vodka," Sylia replied. "You looked like you could something to revive you."
"R-revive me? That...that damn stuff n-nearly... killed me!"
"Well," Nene said uncertainly, "you do look better now then you did when you came in."
"That stuff could strip paint off the hide of a boomer!" Craig looked, who still looked a bit queasy.
"I take it you mission was a success?' asked Sylia.
Craig reached into his shirt pocket and remove the case containing the mini-discs and handed it to Sylia. "I guess...so," he replied, his voice losing some of it's hoarseness. "Of course if an USSD security team show up here, then I reserve the right to revise that statement."
Sylia took the disc case. "What is your assessment of the mission?"
Craig took the vial of boomer fluid and gave to Sylia also. "You want my blunt assessment? It would probably be harder to get into Quincy's bathroom then into USSD headquarters. Which reminds me...." He walked over to Nene leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "That's for doing such a through job on the records you put into the USSD computers," he said to the redhead, who was now also red-faced.
Sylia sighed. "Why don't you sit down and go over with us about what you learned?"
Over a light meal, Craig laid out everything he had learned while at USSD. After he was finished, Sylia leaned back, her face a mask of seriousness. "It's worse then I thought," she said.
"What are we going to do about the black box?" Craig asked. "Do we give it back to USSD, if we get it back?"
"Of course we will give it back to them,"Sylia replied. She held up the disc with the data Craig had copied from the USSD computers. "But I hope this data will go a long way to giving us the ability to neutralize the black box's signal, should we need it."
"You drove a hard bargain with the General. I thought he was going to pop a vein there, from the sound of things."
"I thought it was a good time to make sure we got something for our trouble," she replied, but Craig could almost hear the unsaid, 'this time'. He had no problem with her using the knowledge to make sure the Sabers profited from events that they wouldn't have otherwise gain from, but she did it with a ruthlessness that could be downright scary.
"I'm not sure how close to the vest Schwarz is playing this. I asked Captain Ohbari when we were in the elevator what the General was doing about the missing boomer, and he didn't know."
"You sound like you don't trust the General," said Sylia, sounding amused.
Craig gave her a suffering look. "I don't."
"Do not feel alone. I don't trust him either."
"Sylia, how did you know that Cynthia was a boomer?" Nene asked. "I didn't know you had looked into the General's background."
"I have background on most of the important people in the city," Sylia replied. "I know Schwarz didn't have a relative name Cynthia. Besides, no one is going to kidnap a single six-year-old to try and force an organization the size of USSD to give up their most prized weapons system. A high USSD officer or several close relations of a person of importance would have been more of an appropriate target."
"Oh," Nene replied.
"So, how are we going to handle tonight?"
"You'll see."
***********
The full team met later on, just as dusk was falling. Priss and Linna were sitting on the couch in Sylia's living room, while Nene and Sylia had found chairs. Craig was standing at the windows, staring out into the gathering darkness.
"This mission is important," Sylia said after briefing the others on what had happened that afternoon. "I am not happy that USSD has this technology, but I'm even less happy that GENOM has it now."
"Why are you so sure GENOM is behind it?" Linna asked. "I mean, anyone could have used Boomers."
Craig snorted. "The boomers that hit the lab were not some lashed together jobbies," he said, continuing to look out the window, "but boomers armed with lasers and knowledge of how to use them. They also destroyed almost all the evidence of their attack and did enough damage to stop the black box project cold for at least six months. From what I've seen so far, the only people competent to plan and pull off something like that work for the big companies - GENOM and the others can outbid any terrorist outfits for their services."
"Craig is right," Sylia said. "Besides, something of this sophistication is beyond most terrorists' means."
"So," said Priss, folding her arms, "we've got to find a bunch of boomers and the one carrying the black box before they figure out to use it to fire the particle beams satellites, right?"
Sylia nodded slowly. "With some thought, I believe we've manages to narrow our area of search."
"Assuming that they're still in the city," said Linna.
"They are," replied Sylia. "Quincy wants that black box, and he doesn't want to wait for it. It's still here in the city."
"Waiting for Mason to get his slimy hands on it," said Craig.
The others looked at him, but he folded his arms and continued to stare out the window. After a few seconds, Sylia said, "So, if we add together last night's boomer rampage down 42nd Street and this job, what do we get, Nene?"
The hacker thought for a second. "I wonder if that boomer wasn't a decoy meant to distract the ADP."
"Don't wonder, believe it," Craig said. The others looked at him. He returned their gazes this time. "Think about it. On the same night as the raid, a brand new type of boomer, armed to the teeth, goes on a rampage. The ADP can't do anything more then slow it down, and it took some time for us to track it down. For the price of a single boomer, Mason keeps us and the ADP busy while his tin goons take the black box."
"I think Craig is right," said Sylia standing. "But we can discuss that at a later time. Based on our own analysis of the ADP data Nene gathered, the data Craig got out of the USSD systems, and our quarry's movement last night, for the time being, we'll concentrate on Districts Ten, Eleven, and Twelve. Let's get started then and be sure to report in regularly." She looked at Priss as she said, "Solo action is strictly prohibited."
The singer looked grumpy. "Okay, okay."
Sylia handed them each a small flat disc. "In case you run into trouble, we can track you with these. They're powered by body heat, so keep them close to your skin. Mackie's going to stay here and be the contact person, as well as monitoring everyone. If you're out of contact for more then an hour, Mackie will alert the others and we'll converge on your location. If he sees any of you moving out of the area you've been assigned without contacting him, he will call the rest of us in. Do not lose this tracker and remember to call in at least once an hour."
As they started to leave, Sylia called out, "One other thing. According to our information, Cynthia doesn't realize she is a boomer. If you find her, treat her as if she was a real six-year-old."
"Yea," Craig muttered, "a six-year-old with the ability to have one hell of a tantrum."
"For now, just remember to treat her like a scared child. I think that's all." Priss and Linna were out the door before Sylia said, "Craig, I'd like to speak to you for a moment." Craig looked puzzled, but stopped walked back into the room. Sylia waited until Nene closed the door behind her. "Get suited up," she said to him.
"Huh?"
"You're following Priss tonight in your hardsuit."
Craig's expression was the blank look of complete confusion. "Am I missing something here?"
"If events go the right way, Priss is going to need help. And Mason is still looking for you with that face. I don't want to try and save two members of my team tonight."
"I was going over to my place and putting on my Johansson disguise before heading out."
"We don't have time for your disguises. Get suited up and take your motorslave."
"But that's back at my place!"
"I had Mackie retrieve it while we were visiting USSD, to make sure you didn't damage anything. It's waiting for you in the truck. Mackie will take you out and drop you off near Priss' transmitter. Shadow her and intervene only if things start to go wrong."
"You want her to be kidnaped by the goon-boom squad?"
"I want to see if our opponents are trying to do anything different."
"You realized that Priss is going to kill me if she sees me."
"Call it an incentive not to be seen," Sylia replied.
Craig sighed. "You realize that it's time like this that I wonder if you have my best interests at heart."
"I have the teams best interests at heart," Sylia replied firmly. "At the current time, they outweigh your own."
"Well, thanks for telling me where I stand," Craig muttered. "I'd better get suited up and go play rooftop hopping."
*****
General Schwarz leaned back in his chair and gazed at Captain Rowley. "Do you understand your orders?" he asked gruffly.
Rowley, at parade rest, responded, "Yes Sir!"
"The helicopters will lift off five minutes after we receive word of the black box's location. I expect you and your team to be on them."
"Yes, Sir!"
"That is all."
Rowley snapped to attention, snapped off a salute, turned and walked towards the office door. As she reached it, Schwarz said, "Captain?"
Rowley turned. "Yes Sir?"
"When I said 'eliminate all opposition, I meant all opposition. The only people I want standing afterwards is USSD personnel. Is that understood?"
"Yes Sir."
"Good. That is all."
Rowley's kept her impassive expression as she walked out of the General's office and down the hall. She held it for the drive back to her office, and continued to hold it until she walked into the liaison office. Once through the door leading into the outer officer, she let her expression become one of anger. "Sargent!"
Schildt looked up from his paperwork, saw the Captain's face, and said, "Yes Ma'am?" in neutral tone.
"My office," she snarled, "Now."
The Master Sargent was right behind his superior officer when Rowley stalked into her own private office. Schildt came to a parade rest in front of the Captain's chair, while Rowley went around the desk to her chair and threw herself into it. "Is there something wrong, Ma'am?" Schildt asked.
Rowley gave her head a quick shake. "Not with you or this office."
"The General had a conversation with you?"
"The General spoke, and I listen," Rowley remarked bitterly. "I don't think I said anything else after I entered his office besides "Yes, Sir!"
"And what was the content of this...'discussion', if I may ask?"
"The general has decided that I am to head up the recovery effort for the black box."
"I see."
"Do you?" Rowley leaned back in her chair. "His people are out there, trying to track down the black box. If they find it, I've been tasked with the job of going and getting it."
"Why you, may I ask, Ma'am?"
"Because I am familiar with the black box and can identify it."
"You're also expendable should it become a sheep screw."
Rowley gave Schildt a small smile. "There is that." She leaned back. "But the General also gave me orders that should the black box be located and we go in and retrieve it, we're to make sure that we're the only one who are still standing at the end."
"So?"
"That includes the Knight Sabers."
"So, the rumors are true? I heard that a pair of them showed up at Gate Two in full war gear. Scared the hell out of the guard."
The Captain nodded. "The General hired them to find the box, but something happened at the meeting with the Sabers made him mad at them. If they happen to get between us and the Box, we're to take them out."
"That's not going to be easy. Those suits are tough, and they're making themselves a hard reputation. What resources had the Captain been allocated for this mission?"
"Three KVS-5 transport helicopters, thirty of Stern's security troopers, and Lieutenant Marsh."
"I see," said Schildt. "I think you'd better make sure we're packing a lot of heavy ordinance, for both the boomers and the Sabers."
Rowley raised an eyebrow. "We?"
"Does the Captain think she could use a Master Sargent to assist her in this task?"
The Captain's smile was more genuine. "I think I can see my way clear to include such a person. Do you have anyone in mind?"
Schildt managed to keep his expression impassive. "I can find someone."
"Good, then all I can say is welcome aboard."
"Thank you, Ma'am."
The Captain leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk. "The first thing I want you to do is get a hold of Lieutenant Marsh, and bring her here. We have planning to do, and very little time to do it."
"Yes, Ma'am." The Sargent hesitated. "Ma'am?"
Rowley looked at her trusted subordinate. "Yes?"
"There is something else I think you should know."
"About what?"
"About Major Sangnoir of Internal Security."
The Captain snorted. "What is there to know? He's one of Cantrick's stormtroopers sent to look for heads for the pike."
Schildt took a deep breath. "I contacted an old buddy working in General Cantrick's office."
"Oh?" Rowley again raised an eyebrow. Another one of Schildt's pluses was his seeming limitless number of old buddies both inside and outside USSD. They've been useful more then once. "And why did you do that?"
"Something about Major Sangnoir set me off. Something I can't put my finger on, so I called my buddy and asked for the intel on the Major."
"And?"
"And my buddy had no idea who I was talking about."
"Maybe your buddy never met Major Sangnoir."
Schildt shook his head. "My buddy has been the senior NCO in the General's office for the last five years, and knows everyone that has walked into that office during that time. If he says that he's never heard of Major Sangnoir, then the Major doesn't exist, at least in Internal Security."
Rowley frowned, then turned her chair to access her computer. After a minute, she frowned as she read the screen. "According to this, Major Douglas Q. Sangnoir has been a Internal Security special investigator for three years."
"With all due respect, I believe my buddy over what the computer says."
"Then, if this Major Sangnoir isn't a Cantrick henchman, then the question becomes who is he?"
"I don't know. And that is bothering me more then where the Black Box is."
Rowley leaned back. "And he was poking around Project Hikigane. After you get Marsh, I want you to take a team of our people over to the lab and go over it throughly. Who's our best hacker?"
"Sargent Shingi."
"I want him to check over the network and see if there's been any activity in the last twelve hours. The main computer system is shot to hell, but he might have been able to access some of the other servers through the undamaged part of the network."
"Right. I'll get a team started on that right away."
"And Sargent?"
"Yes Ma'am?"
"Let's keep this between you and me. Until we have something more tangible then your buddy's memory, I don't want to throw around any accusations."
"Of course, Ma'am. I'd better get started them."
********
"Are you there, Craig?"
Craig didn't take his eyes off the nightclub below and across the street from his position. "No," he said sarcastically, "I've moved to Outer Mongolia, and left behind this incredibly life-like AI to answer your questions."
He was sitting near the edge of the building, in the shadow of a solar panel, looking down onto the street below. The businesses on the street, as far as Craig could see, was a mix of bars, nightclubs, and 'adult entertainment' establishments, all geared to make the customer forget their own problems for a few hours. It was late, but there were still a few people out and about, and traffic on the street was light.
"Come on," moaned Mackie. "I'm just making sure you're still awake."
"Oh, I'm still awake. Bored, tired, hungry, on the verge of getting muscle cramps, but I'm still awake. And before you ask, I'm still tracking Priss. Has any of the others turned up anything?"
It had been a difficult evening. To limit the chances that Priss would spot him, he and his motorslave had stayed mostly to the rooftops. While it had prevented the singer from seeing them, it hadn't been easy. Craig wasn't sure the couple he'd surprised on one rooftop had recovered from pair of black figures that almost landed on them. The fact that they were in a compromising situation and otherwise occupied when Craig and his motorslave had leapt onto their rooftop was even worse. He had apologized as he ran by them, but the look of shock on their faces told him that he wasn't going to be invited to their place anytime soon.
"Nothing," Mackie replied. "Priss about fifteen minutes to go before she misses her next check-in. Where are you now?"
"Sitting on a rooftop somewhere in District Ten, waiting for Priss to pop out of some place called the 'Hurricane Inferno.' Anything from the others?"
"Nothing. Sis and the others should be back any time now."
"Well, I've been following Priss for four hours now, and all I've gotten out of it is a rooftop view of MegaTokyo's red-light district. That and targeting everything and practicing firing solutions with the sniper rifle."
"Well, if it's any consolation, things should start to happen any time now."
"That isn't. I - Wait a minute, I think we have something happening." As Craig said those words, a familiar figure walked out of the nightclub and started walking towards a telephone booth. "It looks like Priss is going to call in."
"Any sign of the boomers?" Mackie asked.
Craig scanned the sidewalk around the phone booth. "Nothing yet....Wait a minute!" He saw a pair of large men, a thin one dressed in a suit, while the other one was wearing a sleeveless shirt, showing off his bulging muscles, and dark pants. "I've got Pinky and the Brain in sight."
"Who?"
"I've got two boomers closing on Priss."
"Right! I'm alerting Sis!"
Craig watched as the muscle man forced his way into the phone booth and grimaced as Priss was roughly grabbed and silenced with a punch to the stomach. Without really thinking about it, he dropped the rifle sights onto the head of the bully boy holding Priss. With a squeeze of the trigger, he could send a 12.7 millimeter, full-metal jacketed into the boomer's braincase before the boomer even knew he was there.
But that wasn't the mission. Unless the boomer tried to kill Priss right then and there, it would live, for a little longer at least. So, he watched as the thin man walk away while the muscle boy stood there, an unconscious Priss draped over the massive shoulder like she'd passed out drunk.
"Craig," said Sylia over the radio. "Everyone is here and listening. What is happening there?"
"Two boomers just grabbed Priss," Craig said tersely. "One's left, probably to get a car. I have a shot on the one holding Priss. Should I fire?"
"Negative. We are on route. Tail them and act only if Priss is in immediate danger. I want you to stay in contact at all times and not to take any action until we join you, or the situation is unstable."
"May I remind you this entire situation is already as stable as a blind juggler practicing with nitroglycerine?"
"No solo action," Sylia replied firmly.
"Understood Boss. Just don't get stuck in traffic, Okay?"
"We're on our way."
"Right," Craig muttered, moving away from the edge of the building before he stood up. He placed the rifle into storage mode and started towards the back of the building. "Don't get into trouble, no solo actions. Who does she think I am, Priss? Why I -"
"I suggest you not say anything else," said Sylia. In the background, Craig could hear someone giggling. "Your transmitter is still on."
"Ack!" Craig shut up and continued moving. His motorslave was waiting from him by the back of the building, far enough back not to be seen from the street, but close enough to use the massive machine gun it carried. They both stepped off the edge and allowed their jets to slow their decent they both landed with no problems. With a signal, the black motorslave transformed back into a motorcycle.
Craig got on the bike and activated his helmet's tracking display. In the lower right corner of his HUD, a small compass indicated the direction of Priss' transmitter. "Right. I'm on the ground and trailing the target."
"Be careful."
The motorcycle's engine roared to life, and Craig guided it towards the alley running next to the building. He turned into the alley and went three quarters of the way up it before he stopped and pushed down the kickstand. He got off the bike and drifted up towards the mouth of the ally leading out onto the street.
As he reached the street. He saw a dark gray four-door car pull up next to the boomer and its unaware prisoner. The thin boomer got out and helped the other cyberdroid load Priss into the car, then climb into the back seat next to the singer's limp form. The hulking boomer slid behind the wheel and the car drove off.
"Right," Craig said out loud. "Target is on the move."
"Confirmed." said Sylia. "We're on the road."
The car made a left turn and disappeared. Craig went back to his motorslave, got on it and started up the alley. He stopped, ignoring the stares of a couple who had been walking towards the alley, and were stunned by his sudden appearance. Satisfied there was no traffic coming, he roared out onto the street and started off after the car.
**************
Mason walked into the lab. Largo was on a table now, masses of wires connected to him making him look like he in the mist of an electronic web. The table rose slowly, elevating the new boomer body's and catching Mason by surprise. The table stopped at a forty-five degree angle, allowing Largo to look at the Special Assistant as he stood in the doorway.
[The table's controlling computer does not have any security safeguards installed,] Largo said mentally. [A small oversight, but one that is not harmful.]
Mason's eyes narrowed, reminding himself to make sure that any computer his ally came in contact with was heavily secured. "I see they are making progress in your rebirth."
[You are ready to go retrieve the Black Box.] It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes," Mason replied, irked by the cyberdroid's attitude. "The extra boomers have been dispatched to Aqua City. The Sabers will be in for a surprise."
[Be careful that you are the one not surprised. The Avatar is out there, somewhere.]
"One more Saber will not make a difference. They will be dealt with."
[You may be right, but do not be shocked if it does not turn out the way you planned.]
Mason glanced at his watch. "I'd better get going. The pick up is in two hours."
[Good luck, though I am not sure you need it.]
Mason didn't answer as he turned and stalked out of the room.
**************
The first part of the trailing mission wasn't a problem. By staying on the side streets and alleys, Craig was able to stay close to the car carrying Priss and the Boomers without being seen by them. He kept Sylia and the others up to date on his location. The Saber's truck was now less then ten minutes behind Craig, which was still too far away for his liking.
It wasn't until the car took an entrance ramp did things begin to heat up. Craig started cursing when he saw the icon representing the car turn onto an on-ramp, heading for one of the highways. "Oh boy," he muttered.
"What are you waiting for?" Sylia asked. "Go after them."
"All right, but this outfit and bike is about as subtle as an avalanche."
"I realize that, but you're closer. Hang back as far as you can while keeping them in sight. We'll try and catch up."
"All right." Craig gunned his engine and turned onto the street leading to the on-ramp. He ignored some idiot blowing his horn and accelerated up the on-ramp and onto the highway. Once up to speed, he saw the gray car three hundred meters in front of him. A quick glance told him that the tracker was still working. "In position," he said "I have them in sight."
"Understood."
The next ten minutes were tense, but nothing happened. Craig allowed himself to drop farther back, to limit the chances of being spotted. Sylia reported that the truck was now only five minutes behind him. A quick glance at the passing road signs told Craig that they were heading in the direction of Aqua City, and he reported as much.
He was waiting for Sylia's reply when the car he was following went through a red light. Craig tensed, hoping that the light would change before he reached it. Just then, the car swerved right, its right side tires leaving the roadway in testimony to the violent way the steering wheel was jerked. It crossed the diving line and was clipped by another car traveling in the opposite direction. Still in its side, it half spun before it slammed down on all four tires, then bounce onto its left side. Then, like a drunken top it spun and smashed roof first into a light pole.
"The car's crashed," said Craig, slowing his bike. "Orders?"
"Wait for a count of ten," Sylia replied. "If there's no sign of movement by then, go in and get Priss."
"Right." Craig slowed his bike even more and counted out loud for his and Sylia's benefit. "One....Two....three....Four....Five...." Just then, the grey car's left back door was violently knocked off its hinges and a lithe form wearing read-and-black leathers dropped onto the concrete, stagger slightly, but walk away before dropping to one knee.
"Priss is out," Craig said. "It appears Priss has the same ability to junk cars as she does boomers and motorcycles. She looks battered, but still whole. Do I go in and pick her up?"
There was silence for a moment, then Sylia said, "Negative. Stay back and watch."
Craig was surprised. How close is she going to play this to the Tinsel City? "Huh? But -" The car exploding interrupted the conversation. Priss turned to look at it.
"Stay back and watch," Sylia repeated. "But if any boomers come out of the car, take them out. I don't want anyone following Priss. We'll swing around and try to pick her up before she reaches her destination."
That answers my question. "Right." He stopped the bike under an overpass some two hundred meters from the accident and activated the sniper rifle. The rifle snapped into firing position and Craig slammed home a magazine. As he focused his sights on the car, he saw the bottom of the car begin to peel back. "We've got at least one boomer still breathing!" he called out.
Just then, a mass of brown drifted into his sights. Priss, he thought. "No shot." he said. Switching back to his normal HUD he watched Priss turn and run for a nearby motorcycle, even as the boomer broke free of the car. The singer shouted something at the poor guy speaking on the telephone whose bike she was taking then she gunned it to life and made a one eighty, pointing the bike towards the now freed boomer. Before the boomer could react, Priss slammed into and over it before shooting off down the highway.
Even as the boomer was getting up, Craig sighted in on its head. As soon as a soft beep reached his ears, he fired.
Originally developed as a anti-armor round, the .50-caliber round had been around for over a hundred years. This particular type of round that Craig fired, a SLAP (Saboted Light Armor Penetrator) could cut through nineteen millimeters (about three quarters of an inch) of steel plate at a range of twelve hundred meters. Short range, a composite ally that wasn't quite as strong as steel, and less then fifteen millimeters of it protecting the head led to only one conclusion.
The Boomer's head exploded.
Robbed of it main CPU, the headless boomer tried to continue standing, but Craig fired twice more, aiming for the body. Both bullets slammed into the decapitated C-class, destroying large sections of the boomer's internal structure. With fluid pouring from several holes, the boomer crashed to the pavement, dead.
"Scratch one Boomer!" Craig said excitedly.
"Continue after Priss," Sylia ordered.
"Do I catch up with her this time?"
"If you can."
Craig removed the magazine and stored away the rifle. "On my way." He started his motoslave and started after Priss.
Chapter 14 - "Did Custer have days like these?"
**************
It was another two hours before Craig made his way back to Sylia's building. He had taken the car back to the airport (It had been rented from there that morning by a contact of Sylia's) and had walked into one of the airport's restrooms carrying a black dufflebag. Fifteen minutes later, Crag, sans disguise, wearing a pair of jeans, sweatshirt, sneakers and bomber jacket walked out. He took a taxi to a location two blocks from the Lady633 building and walked the rest of the way. Using a side door, he slipped into the building and went up to the penthouse.
Sylia and Nene looked up and Craig walked in. There was a stunned looked on his face, and he didn't blink as he shuffled to the living room, dropping the dufflebag once he was clear of the front doorway. He ignored the two women and dropped into a chair, staring out the windows across the room without seeing anything.
"Craig, what's wrong?" Nene asked, looking concerned.
Sylia stood and walked into the kitchen. She returned with a glass filled with a almost clear liquid. She walked to where Craig was sitting and handed him the glass. "I think you can use this," she said softly.
Not looking at her, Craig reached up and took the glass. He down the contents in one go and for a second, nothing happened. Then, all at once, his face became red and, dropping the glass, he bolted for the bathroom. He reached the bathroom and slammed the door behind him, but the door couldn't block out all the sounds from within the room. Nene looked from the bathroom door to Sylia, then back to the door again.
Ten minutes later, the door opened and Craig staggered out of the bathroom. He gave Sylia a baneful look. "Wh-what was...that stuff?" he croaked.
"Vodka," Sylia replied. "You looked like you could something to revive you."
"R-revive me? That...that damn stuff n-nearly... killed me!"
"Well," Nene said uncertainly, "you do look better now then you did when you came in."
"That stuff could strip paint off the hide of a boomer!" Craig looked, who still looked a bit queasy.
"I take it you mission was a success?' asked Sylia.
Craig reached into his shirt pocket and remove the case containing the mini-discs and handed it to Sylia. "I guess...so," he replied, his voice losing some of it's hoarseness. "Of course if an USSD security team show up here, then I reserve the right to revise that statement."
Sylia took the disc case. "What is your assessment of the mission?"
Craig took the vial of boomer fluid and gave to Sylia also. "You want my blunt assessment? It would probably be harder to get into Quincy's bathroom then into USSD headquarters. Which reminds me...." He walked over to Nene leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "That's for doing such a through job on the records you put into the USSD computers," he said to the redhead, who was now also red-faced.
Sylia sighed. "Why don't you sit down and go over with us about what you learned?"
Over a light meal, Craig laid out everything he had learned while at USSD. After he was finished, Sylia leaned back, her face a mask of seriousness. "It's worse then I thought," she said.
"What are we going to do about the black box?" Craig asked. "Do we give it back to USSD, if we get it back?"
"Of course we will give it back to them,"Sylia replied. She held up the disc with the data Craig had copied from the USSD computers. "But I hope this data will go a long way to giving us the ability to neutralize the black box's signal, should we need it."
"You drove a hard bargain with the General. I thought he was going to pop a vein there, from the sound of things."
"I thought it was a good time to make sure we got something for our trouble," she replied, but Craig could almost hear the unsaid, 'this time'. He had no problem with her using the knowledge to make sure the Sabers profited from events that they wouldn't have otherwise gain from, but she did it with a ruthlessness that could be downright scary.
"I'm not sure how close to the vest Schwarz is playing this. I asked Captain Ohbari when we were in the elevator what the General was doing about the missing boomer, and he didn't know."
"You sound like you don't trust the General," said Sylia, sounding amused.
Craig gave her a suffering look. "I don't."
"Do not feel alone. I don't trust him either."
"Sylia, how did you know that Cynthia was a boomer?" Nene asked. "I didn't know you had looked into the General's background."
"I have background on most of the important people in the city," Sylia replied. "I know Schwarz didn't have a relative name Cynthia. Besides, no one is going to kidnap a single six-year-old to try and force an organization the size of USSD to give up their most prized weapons system. A high USSD officer or several close relations of a person of importance would have been more of an appropriate target."
"Oh," Nene replied.
"So, how are we going to handle tonight?"
"You'll see."
***********
The full team met later on, just as dusk was falling. Priss and Linna were sitting on the couch in Sylia's living room, while Nene and Sylia had found chairs. Craig was standing at the windows, staring out into the gathering darkness.
"This mission is important," Sylia said after briefing the others on what had happened that afternoon. "I am not happy that USSD has this technology, but I'm even less happy that GENOM has it now."
"Why are you so sure GENOM is behind it?" Linna asked. "I mean, anyone could have used Boomers."
Craig snorted. "The boomers that hit the lab were not some lashed together jobbies," he said, continuing to look out the window, "but boomers armed with lasers and knowledge of how to use them. They also destroyed almost all the evidence of their attack and did enough damage to stop the black box project cold for at least six months. From what I've seen so far, the only people competent to plan and pull off something like that work for the big companies - GENOM and the others can outbid any terrorist outfits for their services."
"Craig is right," Sylia said. "Besides, something of this sophistication is beyond most terrorists' means."
"So," said Priss, folding her arms, "we've got to find a bunch of boomers and the one carrying the black box before they figure out to use it to fire the particle beams satellites, right?"
Sylia nodded slowly. "With some thought, I believe we've manages to narrow our area of search."
"Assuming that they're still in the city," said Linna.
"They are," replied Sylia. "Quincy wants that black box, and he doesn't want to wait for it. It's still here in the city."
"Waiting for Mason to get his slimy hands on it," said Craig.
The others looked at him, but he folded his arms and continued to stare out the window. After a few seconds, Sylia said, "So, if we add together last night's boomer rampage down 42nd Street and this job, what do we get, Nene?"
The hacker thought for a second. "I wonder if that boomer wasn't a decoy meant to distract the ADP."
"Don't wonder, believe it," Craig said. The others looked at him. He returned their gazes this time. "Think about it. On the same night as the raid, a brand new type of boomer, armed to the teeth, goes on a rampage. The ADP can't do anything more then slow it down, and it took some time for us to track it down. For the price of a single boomer, Mason keeps us and the ADP busy while his tin goons take the black box."
"I think Craig is right," said Sylia standing. "But we can discuss that at a later time. Based on our own analysis of the ADP data Nene gathered, the data Craig got out of the USSD systems, and our quarry's movement last night, for the time being, we'll concentrate on Districts Ten, Eleven, and Twelve. Let's get started then and be sure to report in regularly." She looked at Priss as she said, "Solo action is strictly prohibited."
The singer looked grumpy. "Okay, okay."
Sylia handed them each a small flat disc. "In case you run into trouble, we can track you with these. They're powered by body heat, so keep them close to your skin. Mackie's going to stay here and be the contact person, as well as monitoring everyone. If you're out of contact for more then an hour, Mackie will alert the others and we'll converge on your location. If he sees any of you moving out of the area you've been assigned without contacting him, he will call the rest of us in. Do not lose this tracker and remember to call in at least once an hour."
As they started to leave, Sylia called out, "One other thing. According to our information, Cynthia doesn't realize she is a boomer. If you find her, treat her as if she was a real six-year-old."
"Yea," Craig muttered, "a six-year-old with the ability to have one hell of a tantrum."
"For now, just remember to treat her like a scared child. I think that's all." Priss and Linna were out the door before Sylia said, "Craig, I'd like to speak to you for a moment." Craig looked puzzled, but stopped walked back into the room. Sylia waited until Nene closed the door behind her. "Get suited up," she said to him.
"Huh?"
"You're following Priss tonight in your hardsuit."
Craig's expression was the blank look of complete confusion. "Am I missing something here?"
"If events go the right way, Priss is going to need help. And Mason is still looking for you with that face. I don't want to try and save two members of my team tonight."
"I was going over to my place and putting on my Johansson disguise before heading out."
"We don't have time for your disguises. Get suited up and take your motorslave."
"But that's back at my place!"
"I had Mackie retrieve it while we were visiting USSD, to make sure you didn't damage anything. It's waiting for you in the truck. Mackie will take you out and drop you off near Priss' transmitter. Shadow her and intervene only if things start to go wrong."
"You want her to be kidnaped by the goon-boom squad?"
"I want to see if our opponents are trying to do anything different."
"You realized that Priss is going to kill me if she sees me."
"Call it an incentive not to be seen," Sylia replied.
Craig sighed. "You realize that it's time like this that I wonder if you have my best interests at heart."
"I have the teams best interests at heart," Sylia replied firmly. "At the current time, they outweigh your own."
"Well, thanks for telling me where I stand," Craig muttered. "I'd better get suited up and go play rooftop hopping."
*****
General Schwarz leaned back in his chair and gazed at Captain Rowley. "Do you understand your orders?" he asked gruffly.
Rowley, at parade rest, responded, "Yes Sir!"
"The helicopters will lift off five minutes after we receive word of the black box's location. I expect you and your team to be on them."
"Yes, Sir!"
"That is all."
Rowley snapped to attention, snapped off a salute, turned and walked towards the office door. As she reached it, Schwarz said, "Captain?"
Rowley turned. "Yes Sir?"
"When I said 'eliminate all opposition, I meant all opposition. The only people I want standing afterwards is USSD personnel. Is that understood?"
"Yes Sir."
"Good. That is all."
Rowley's kept her impassive expression as she walked out of the General's office and down the hall. She held it for the drive back to her office, and continued to hold it until she walked into the liaison office. Once through the door leading into the outer officer, she let her expression become one of anger. "Sargent!"
Schildt looked up from his paperwork, saw the Captain's face, and said, "Yes Ma'am?" in neutral tone.
"My office," she snarled, "Now."
The Master Sargent was right behind his superior officer when Rowley stalked into her own private office. Schildt came to a parade rest in front of the Captain's chair, while Rowley went around the desk to her chair and threw herself into it. "Is there something wrong, Ma'am?" Schildt asked.
Rowley gave her head a quick shake. "Not with you or this office."
"The General had a conversation with you?"
"The General spoke, and I listen," Rowley remarked bitterly. "I don't think I said anything else after I entered his office besides "Yes, Sir!"
"And what was the content of this...'discussion', if I may ask?"
"The general has decided that I am to head up the recovery effort for the black box."
"I see."
"Do you?" Rowley leaned back in her chair. "His people are out there, trying to track down the black box. If they find it, I've been tasked with the job of going and getting it."
"Why you, may I ask, Ma'am?"
"Because I am familiar with the black box and can identify it."
"You're also expendable should it become a sheep screw."
Rowley gave Schildt a small smile. "There is that." She leaned back. "But the General also gave me orders that should the black box be located and we go in and retrieve it, we're to make sure that we're the only one who are still standing at the end."
"So?"
"That includes the Knight Sabers."
"So, the rumors are true? I heard that a pair of them showed up at Gate Two in full war gear. Scared the hell out of the guard."
The Captain nodded. "The General hired them to find the box, but something happened at the meeting with the Sabers made him mad at them. If they happen to get between us and the Box, we're to take them out."
"That's not going to be easy. Those suits are tough, and they're making themselves a hard reputation. What resources had the Captain been allocated for this mission?"
"Three KVS-5 transport helicopters, thirty of Stern's security troopers, and Lieutenant Marsh."
"I see," said Schildt. "I think you'd better make sure we're packing a lot of heavy ordinance, for both the boomers and the Sabers."
Rowley raised an eyebrow. "We?"
"Does the Captain think she could use a Master Sargent to assist her in this task?"
The Captain's smile was more genuine. "I think I can see my way clear to include such a person. Do you have anyone in mind?"
Schildt managed to keep his expression impassive. "I can find someone."
"Good, then all I can say is welcome aboard."
"Thank you, Ma'am."
The Captain leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk. "The first thing I want you to do is get a hold of Lieutenant Marsh, and bring her here. We have planning to do, and very little time to do it."
"Yes, Ma'am." The Sargent hesitated. "Ma'am?"
Rowley looked at her trusted subordinate. "Yes?"
"There is something else I think you should know."
"About what?"
"About Major Sangnoir of Internal Security."
The Captain snorted. "What is there to know? He's one of Cantrick's stormtroopers sent to look for heads for the pike."
Schildt took a deep breath. "I contacted an old buddy working in General Cantrick's office."
"Oh?" Rowley again raised an eyebrow. Another one of Schildt's pluses was his seeming limitless number of old buddies both inside and outside USSD. They've been useful more then once. "And why did you do that?"
"Something about Major Sangnoir set me off. Something I can't put my finger on, so I called my buddy and asked for the intel on the Major."
"And?"
"And my buddy had no idea who I was talking about."
"Maybe your buddy never met Major Sangnoir."
Schildt shook his head. "My buddy has been the senior NCO in the General's office for the last five years, and knows everyone that has walked into that office during that time. If he says that he's never heard of Major Sangnoir, then the Major doesn't exist, at least in Internal Security."
Rowley frowned, then turned her chair to access her computer. After a minute, she frowned as she read the screen. "According to this, Major Douglas Q. Sangnoir has been a Internal Security special investigator for three years."
"With all due respect, I believe my buddy over what the computer says."
"Then, if this Major Sangnoir isn't a Cantrick henchman, then the question becomes who is he?"
"I don't know. And that is bothering me more then where the Black Box is."
Rowley leaned back. "And he was poking around Project Hikigane. After you get Marsh, I want you to take a team of our people over to the lab and go over it throughly. Who's our best hacker?"
"Sargent Shingi."
"I want him to check over the network and see if there's been any activity in the last twelve hours. The main computer system is shot to hell, but he might have been able to access some of the other servers through the undamaged part of the network."
"Right. I'll get a team started on that right away."
"And Sargent?"
"Yes Ma'am?"
"Let's keep this between you and me. Until we have something more tangible then your buddy's memory, I don't want to throw around any accusations."
"Of course, Ma'am. I'd better get started them."
********
"Are you there, Craig?"
Craig didn't take his eyes off the nightclub below and across the street from his position. "No," he said sarcastically, "I've moved to Outer Mongolia, and left behind this incredibly life-like AI to answer your questions."
He was sitting near the edge of the building, in the shadow of a solar panel, looking down onto the street below. The businesses on the street, as far as Craig could see, was a mix of bars, nightclubs, and 'adult entertainment' establishments, all geared to make the customer forget their own problems for a few hours. It was late, but there were still a few people out and about, and traffic on the street was light.
"Come on," moaned Mackie. "I'm just making sure you're still awake."
"Oh, I'm still awake. Bored, tired, hungry, on the verge of getting muscle cramps, but I'm still awake. And before you ask, I'm still tracking Priss. Has any of the others turned up anything?"
It had been a difficult evening. To limit the chances that Priss would spot him, he and his motorslave had stayed mostly to the rooftops. While it had prevented the singer from seeing them, it hadn't been easy. Craig wasn't sure the couple he'd surprised on one rooftop had recovered from pair of black figures that almost landed on them. The fact that they were in a compromising situation and otherwise occupied when Craig and his motorslave had leapt onto their rooftop was even worse. He had apologized as he ran by them, but the look of shock on their faces told him that he wasn't going to be invited to their place anytime soon.
"Nothing," Mackie replied. "Priss about fifteen minutes to go before she misses her next check-in. Where are you now?"
"Sitting on a rooftop somewhere in District Ten, waiting for Priss to pop out of some place called the 'Hurricane Inferno.' Anything from the others?"
"Nothing. Sis and the others should be back any time now."
"Well, I've been following Priss for four hours now, and all I've gotten out of it is a rooftop view of MegaTokyo's red-light district. That and targeting everything and practicing firing solutions with the sniper rifle."
"Well, if it's any consolation, things should start to happen any time now."
"That isn't. I - Wait a minute, I think we have something happening." As Craig said those words, a familiar figure walked out of the nightclub and started walking towards a telephone booth. "It looks like Priss is going to call in."
"Any sign of the boomers?" Mackie asked.
Craig scanned the sidewalk around the phone booth. "Nothing yet....Wait a minute!" He saw a pair of large men, a thin one dressed in a suit, while the other one was wearing a sleeveless shirt, showing off his bulging muscles, and dark pants. "I've got Pinky and the Brain in sight."
"Who?"
"I've got two boomers closing on Priss."
"Right! I'm alerting Sis!"
Craig watched as the muscle man forced his way into the phone booth and grimaced as Priss was roughly grabbed and silenced with a punch to the stomach. Without really thinking about it, he dropped the rifle sights onto the head of the bully boy holding Priss. With a squeeze of the trigger, he could send a 12.7 millimeter, full-metal jacketed into the boomer's braincase before the boomer even knew he was there.
But that wasn't the mission. Unless the boomer tried to kill Priss right then and there, it would live, for a little longer at least. So, he watched as the thin man walk away while the muscle boy stood there, an unconscious Priss draped over the massive shoulder like she'd passed out drunk.
"Craig," said Sylia over the radio. "Everyone is here and listening. What is happening there?"
"Two boomers just grabbed Priss," Craig said tersely. "One's left, probably to get a car. I have a shot on the one holding Priss. Should I fire?"
"Negative. We are on route. Tail them and act only if Priss is in immediate danger. I want you to stay in contact at all times and not to take any action until we join you, or the situation is unstable."
"May I remind you this entire situation is already as stable as a blind juggler practicing with nitroglycerine?"
"No solo action," Sylia replied firmly.
"Understood Boss. Just don't get stuck in traffic, Okay?"
"We're on our way."
"Right," Craig muttered, moving away from the edge of the building before he stood up. He placed the rifle into storage mode and started towards the back of the building. "Don't get into trouble, no solo actions. Who does she think I am, Priss? Why I -"
"I suggest you not say anything else," said Sylia. In the background, Craig could hear someone giggling. "Your transmitter is still on."
"Ack!" Craig shut up and continued moving. His motorslave was waiting from him by the back of the building, far enough back not to be seen from the street, but close enough to use the massive machine gun it carried. They both stepped off the edge and allowed their jets to slow their decent they both landed with no problems. With a signal, the black motorslave transformed back into a motorcycle.
Craig got on the bike and activated his helmet's tracking display. In the lower right corner of his HUD, a small compass indicated the direction of Priss' transmitter. "Right. I'm on the ground and trailing the target."
"Be careful."
The motorcycle's engine roared to life, and Craig guided it towards the alley running next to the building. He turned into the alley and went three quarters of the way up it before he stopped and pushed down the kickstand. He got off the bike and drifted up towards the mouth of the ally leading out onto the street.
As he reached the street. He saw a dark gray four-door car pull up next to the boomer and its unaware prisoner. The thin boomer got out and helped the other cyberdroid load Priss into the car, then climb into the back seat next to the singer's limp form. The hulking boomer slid behind the wheel and the car drove off.
"Right," Craig said out loud. "Target is on the move."
"Confirmed." said Sylia. "We're on the road."
The car made a left turn and disappeared. Craig went back to his motorslave, got on it and started up the alley. He stopped, ignoring the stares of a couple who had been walking towards the alley, and were stunned by his sudden appearance. Satisfied there was no traffic coming, he roared out onto the street and started off after the car.
**************
Mason walked into the lab. Largo was on a table now, masses of wires connected to him making him look like he in the mist of an electronic web. The table rose slowly, elevating the new boomer body's and catching Mason by surprise. The table stopped at a forty-five degree angle, allowing Largo to look at the Special Assistant as he stood in the doorway.
[The table's controlling computer does not have any security safeguards installed,] Largo said mentally. [A small oversight, but one that is not harmful.]
Mason's eyes narrowed, reminding himself to make sure that any computer his ally came in contact with was heavily secured. "I see they are making progress in your rebirth."
[You are ready to go retrieve the Black Box.] It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes," Mason replied, irked by the cyberdroid's attitude. "The extra boomers have been dispatched to Aqua City. The Sabers will be in for a surprise."
[Be careful that you are the one not surprised. The Avatar is out there, somewhere.]
"One more Saber will not make a difference. They will be dealt with."
[You may be right, but do not be shocked if it does not turn out the way you planned.]
Mason glanced at his watch. "I'd better get going. The pick up is in two hours."
[Good luck, though I am not sure you need it.]
Mason didn't answer as he turned and stalked out of the room.
**************
The first part of the trailing mission wasn't a problem. By staying on the side streets and alleys, Craig was able to stay close to the car carrying Priss and the Boomers without being seen by them. He kept Sylia and the others up to date on his location. The Saber's truck was now less then ten minutes behind Craig, which was still too far away for his liking.
It wasn't until the car took an entrance ramp did things begin to heat up. Craig started cursing when he saw the icon representing the car turn onto an on-ramp, heading for one of the highways. "Oh boy," he muttered.
"What are you waiting for?" Sylia asked. "Go after them."
"All right, but this outfit and bike is about as subtle as an avalanche."
"I realize that, but you're closer. Hang back as far as you can while keeping them in sight. We'll try and catch up."
"All right." Craig gunned his engine and turned onto the street leading to the on-ramp. He ignored some idiot blowing his horn and accelerated up the on-ramp and onto the highway. Once up to speed, he saw the gray car three hundred meters in front of him. A quick glance told him that the tracker was still working. "In position," he said "I have them in sight."
"Understood."
The next ten minutes were tense, but nothing happened. Craig allowed himself to drop farther back, to limit the chances of being spotted. Sylia reported that the truck was now only five minutes behind him. A quick glance at the passing road signs told Craig that they were heading in the direction of Aqua City, and he reported as much.
He was waiting for Sylia's reply when the car he was following went through a red light. Craig tensed, hoping that the light would change before he reached it. Just then, the car swerved right, its right side tires leaving the roadway in testimony to the violent way the steering wheel was jerked. It crossed the diving line and was clipped by another car traveling in the opposite direction. Still in its side, it half spun before it slammed down on all four tires, then bounce onto its left side. Then, like a drunken top it spun and smashed roof first into a light pole.
"The car's crashed," said Craig, slowing his bike. "Orders?"
"Wait for a count of ten," Sylia replied. "If there's no sign of movement by then, go in and get Priss."
"Right." Craig slowed his bike even more and counted out loud for his and Sylia's benefit. "One....Two....three....Four....Five...." Just then, the grey car's left back door was violently knocked off its hinges and a lithe form wearing read-and-black leathers dropped onto the concrete, stagger slightly, but walk away before dropping to one knee.
"Priss is out," Craig said. "It appears Priss has the same ability to junk cars as she does boomers and motorcycles. She looks battered, but still whole. Do I go in and pick her up?"
There was silence for a moment, then Sylia said, "Negative. Stay back and watch."
Craig was surprised. How close is she going to play this to the Tinsel City? "Huh? But -" The car exploding interrupted the conversation. Priss turned to look at it.
"Stay back and watch," Sylia repeated. "But if any boomers come out of the car, take them out. I don't want anyone following Priss. We'll swing around and try to pick her up before she reaches her destination."
That answers my question. "Right." He stopped the bike under an overpass some two hundred meters from the accident and activated the sniper rifle. The rifle snapped into firing position and Craig slammed home a magazine. As he focused his sights on the car, he saw the bottom of the car begin to peel back. "We've got at least one boomer still breathing!" he called out.
Just then, a mass of brown drifted into his sights. Priss, he thought. "No shot." he said. Switching back to his normal HUD he watched Priss turn and run for a nearby motorcycle, even as the boomer broke free of the car. The singer shouted something at the poor guy speaking on the telephone whose bike she was taking then she gunned it to life and made a one eighty, pointing the bike towards the now freed boomer. Before the boomer could react, Priss slammed into and over it before shooting off down the highway.
Even as the boomer was getting up, Craig sighted in on its head. As soon as a soft beep reached his ears, he fired.
Originally developed as a anti-armor round, the .50-caliber round had been around for over a hundred years. This particular type of round that Craig fired, a SLAP (Saboted Light Armor Penetrator) could cut through nineteen millimeters (about three quarters of an inch) of steel plate at a range of twelve hundred meters. Short range, a composite ally that wasn't quite as strong as steel, and less then fifteen millimeters of it protecting the head led to only one conclusion.
The Boomer's head exploded.
Robbed of it main CPU, the headless boomer tried to continue standing, but Craig fired twice more, aiming for the body. Both bullets slammed into the decapitated C-class, destroying large sections of the boomer's internal structure. With fluid pouring from several holes, the boomer crashed to the pavement, dead.
"Scratch one Boomer!" Craig said excitedly.
"Continue after Priss," Sylia ordered.
"Do I catch up with her this time?"
"If you can."
Craig removed the magazine and stored away the rifle. "On my way." He started his motoslave and started after Priss.