Blood Ties Page 24

  “Be sure to thank her for me,” Jake added, wondering what else Qi might have learned. Then his thoughts turned to what they were about to do. “So where’s your grandfather?” he called after Qi as she stepped up to the digger. “Is he coming along?”

  She looked up through the fog at the rooftops barely visible above them. “He’s up there somewhere, doing what he does best, along with many of his soldiers.”

  “We couldn’t ask for a better escort,” Jake observed.

  Qi leapt up on her digger’s leg and disappeared behind the metal cockpit. There was a hiss as the pistons shut her inside, and then a second hiss as her copilot above closed himself in. Jake moved around the wagon, stepped up onto the driver’s seat, and grabbed the reins.

  He turned his head to Cole, already mounted up on Koto. “You ready, amigo?” he asked as he twisted the iris of his ocular to let in as much light as possible.

  Cole took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then let it out slowly. He reseated his pistol. “Let’s get rolling,” he said, and hefted the chaingun up in both hands.

  “Qi,” Jake shouted at the machine, “you take point, then Cole, and we’ll take up the rear.” Jake looked up at the rooftops. “Chung, if you can hear me, give us a few flankers.”

  “He can hear,” Qi’s mechanically amplified voice came from the rig.

  Jake nodded and motioned towards the gate that opened on the alley behind Qi’s workshop. “Ladies first,” he said, motioning with his hand. Chung’s grandson hit a button on a control panel by the gate, and with the sound of gears turning, the whole fence slid to the side. The massive power plant inside the machine revved up. With loud, clanging stomps in the earth, Qi guided the machine out through the gate. As she turned into the alley, the arms rose and tracked left and right slowly. Jake pitied anyone who got in front of the Gatlings mounted on each arm. Cole fell in behind, a grim, determined look on his face.

  “Skeeter?” Jake said. He snapped the reins against Lumpy’s back to get the bull moving, and they started off with a lurch, falling in stride behind Cole.

  “Yeah?” she replied, popping her head up a bit to look at Jake.

  “Lumpy is twelve o’clock and the ass-end of this rig is six o’clock. If I call out time and distance, I want you to heave one of them poppers as close to on-target as you can.” Jake looked back at the girl scrunched into the pillbox. “Can you do that?”

  A wicked grin spread across her face. “Piece of cake, Jake,” she said with a menacing resolve that surprised him. Jake set the Thumper between his legs and gripped it firmly. Qi turned left out of the alley and headed down the street toward the warehouse district. Jake knew there would be a few twists and turns, but they would be heading generally southeast through the fog. He figured there wouldn’t be much action until they were well out of the residential district—less chance of Ming’s men drawing the attention of San Fran Marshals.

  Jake clung to a slim hope that the pasting they’d given Ming’s men the night before had given the man pause, but considering the determination Jake had encountered when he’d had to kill Ming’s brother, he knew there’d be shooting before they even got close to the Jezebel.

  It occurred to him suddenly that the streets were empty, as if all of Chinatown knew what was about to happen. Through a brief gap in the fog, Jake’s left eye picked up a flicker of motion on one of the rooftops. A small figure in black leapt out of a shadow from behind a chimney stack, and another figure in black who had been crouched behind the façade of the building rose up to meet him. Jake reached for his pistol and saw Cole tracking with the chaingun, but it ended as soon as it started. Jake saw several flashes reflected by what had to be Chung’s metal fans. The victim’s body silently slid off the roof and thumped into the dirt in the alley between two buildings, lost in the mist.

  “Chung got his first kill,” Jake hissed at Cole’s back. Cole didn’t turn his head, but he nodded to indicate he’d heard. Chung disappeared again into the shadows and Jake saw a few more follow in his footsteps. As they traveled through the cobbled streets of San Francisco, they occasionally heard the clash of metal or an abbreviated yell as another man was cut down in the shadowy fog. Jake could only hope Chung’s soldiers were doing the cutting.

  They travelled another fifteen blocks and turned onto Fremont before the buildings changed from houses and storefronts to warehouses.

  When they crossed into the warehouse district proper, Qi turned right, crossed between two high, windowless rows of warehouses, and turned left onto 2nd Street. The gaps between the buildings were wide enough now to prevent someone from jumping from one roof to the next, which meant that Chung and his men either were on the ground or had given up. Jake hoped for the former, but he didn’t see a single figure in black moving between the buildings as he rolled by.

  Lumpy seemed to have gotten the idea of following Cole, so Jake loosened his grip on the reins and picked up the Thumper, cradling it in his arms, left handed. He’d spent a great deal of time practicing to shoot a rifle left-handed to take advantage of his night-vision. As he peeked through the scope, he traced a line along rooftops and down alleys to see if he could spot anyone. A gentle breeze pushed the mists around like mud in a pond, thickening the fog in some places, breaking it up in others.

  The smell of the ocean grew stronger as it cleared out between several warehouses. Spotty gaps in the fog let Jake see the dark surface of San Francisco Bay, and he heard waves swishing on the rocky shoreline. Qi turned right down King Street, and Jake could now make out the faint, red envelope of the Jezebel illuminated by ground lights a thousand yards past a channel that started only a few blocks away. Qi seemed to be headed for one of the small bridges that spanned the channel, and Jake realized it would be a perfect bottleneck. There were stacks of crates and assorted dock equipment scattered around the area, with plenty of places to hide. That’s where I’d put it, Jake thought to himself. He had to hope that Qi and Chung had talked about the route to the Jezebel.

  “Cole,” Jake said and pointed at the spot in front of the bridge. Cole turned and then cast his gaze where Jake pointed. “Do you see it?” Another break in the fog allowed Cole to zero in on the spot.

  Cole turned back and nodded. “I surely do.”

  “Think you can play hide and seek along that left flank?” Jake asked, nodding towards the beach.

  A big grin spread across Cole’s face. “I surely do,” he repeated with a wicked grin. He eased Koto out of the line and pulled back slightly on the reins. When he was even with the wagon, he handed the reins to Jake and hopped up onto the driver’s seat. With two quick motions he slid his boots off. He pulled the sling of the chaingun around so that the weapon rested between his shoulders and then pulled out the Bowie knife he kept in a sheath at the back of his gun belt. He dropped his hat on the seat next to Jake and pulled off his shirt, setting it on top of the hat. With a quick jerk he pulled a leather strap from inside his belt. He wrapped it around the bulk of his long, wavy black hair, making a ponytail at the back of his neck and then tied it off.

  “Watch yourself, amigo,” Jake said.

  “You, too.” Without another word Cole leapt over Koto, landing on the far side, and took off running between two warehouses as silently as any of Chung’s men. Jake tied off Koto’s reins to the buckboard and checked both pistols again, running the cylinder of each along his arm to make sure they were fully loaded.

  Qi turned town 3rd Street and headed for the bridge. A wide gap between two small buildings and several rows of cargo crates arrayed beyond created a path that led straight up to the bridge.

  “Skeeter,” Jake called over his back, “scoot to the back of that pillbox and get ready with them poppers. I’ll be coming back there directly.”

  “Jake! Behind you!” Skeeter shouted.

  Jake heard the flutter of fabric behind and to his left, and it was only the speed of his clockwork left that saved him. The filigreed Peacekeeper was already out of its hols
ter and pointed at a man sailing down from the roof of the warehouse when Jake’s eye picked him out of the darkness. The pistol barked once, and the slug caught the man in the face, killing him instantly and spinning his body backwards. The sword that had been coming down towards Jake’s head fell from dead hands, rotated slightly, and stuck point first in the boards between Jake’s feet.

  Jake rolled backward over the seat and came up with his knees planted on the Lady’s box just in time to see a group of men in black with rifles step out from a line of cargo crates near the canal. The arms of Qi’s digger shifted, and the twin gun pods on each arm tracked directly towards them. A staccato rhythm of gunfire, slower than the chainguns, erupted from the digger and poured into the assassins. They scattered like cockroaches when the lights came on.

  Jake turned toward the back of the wagon and saw two groups of men in black step around from behind the warehouses, one on each side of the street.

  “Skeeter! Four-thirty, thirty feet,” he yelled and fired off several rounds as he dropped down into the pillbox. Skeeter tossed one of her poppers as two men dropped in their tracks, hit by Jake’s volley. A barrage of gunfire came in at the wagon from both sides, but the shots either whistled overhead or ricocheted off of the Lady’s box and the steel plates of the pillbox. Skeeter’s popper went off right on target. The group of four men flew like ragdolls in a hurricane. Jake fired several more rounds into the group on the right, and two more went down. The last one fired his pistol and the bullet glanced off Jake’s left arm, sending up sparks as it ricocheted into the night. Jake took aim and put a round through the man’s throat, sending him to the ground in a heap.

  That’s when Jake heard two power plants start up, one far ahead of Qi’s position and the other from behind the warehouse on his left. The power plants were much louder than Qi’s and sounded rougher, similar to the ones he’d encountered during the war, but something sounded different about them.

  With a clank of metal feet, a mechanized assault unit stomped around the corner of the building. Jake gulped. He knew what they were capable of, and an image of the one standing atop Jackinaw Ridge flicked through his thoughts.

  Fifteen feet of gleaming armor stared down at the gunfight unfolding before it. Its design was clearly based on the old Confederate model, but it appeared to be larger and more heavily armored. It also had a distinct head that swiveled and took in everything going on. The ends of its arms were more complex than the standard Confederate units he remembered. They had hydraulic-driven claws on the end and large gun pods mounted on the lower forearm.

  “Oh shit,” Jake said as the assault unit turned toward the wagon, its arms rising into position. Jake could only hope that these machines were no more maneuverable than the Confederate models because it would give Qi’s digger at least some advantage. Jake grabbed Skeeter by the collar and yanked her out of the pillbox, causing her to squeal. Dragging her along, he dove behind the driver’s seat of the wagon and placed his body between her and the machine.

  A massive, dual-explosion ripped through the night as antipersonnel rounds cooked off from both arms of the enemy unit. The impact rattled Jake’s teeth. Splinters flew everywhere, and the rear-left side of the wagon dropped down, the wheel blown to pieces.

  Koto screamed sharply as only horses can and then the sound cut off. Lumpy jumped forward a few steps with the impact of the blast, but the buckshot had only bounced off the green glow around him. He stopped dragging the ass-end of the wagon after a few yards, the weight clearly more than he wanted to pull.

  Thank God, Jake thought, grateful that the enemy unit didn’t have a Gatling gun. A steady stream of fire from one of those would either pin down or make short work of anyone out in the open. Jake looked up at the wall of the warehouse behind them and saw the entire wall filled with buckshot holes except for a precise outline of the wagon.… And Koto. A gut-wrenching reality hit Jake, but he pushed thoughts of Cole’s horse out of his mind.

  A similar explosion of anti-personnel rounds came from somewhere ahead of Qi’s digger, followed by the fierce clatter of ricochets as men screamed.

  Qi’s guns barked, opening up against something metallic, more men screamed. Jake looked down at the Thumper lying beneath him where he’d knocked it over. The four crimson lights glowing on the stock gave him an idea. He remembered Cole shooting at the men behind Qi’s digger the night before. He remembered Qi’s digger tipping over. That had only been setting three.

  Wispy, white smoke poured over the back of the wagon, and Jake saw Jackinaw Ridge again in his mind’s eye. I ain’t gonna buy it again to one of these things, he thought grimly. He grabbed the Thumper, turned the dial from STUN past CROWD CONTROL and THUMP to its highest setting—HAMMER. The HAMMER was only for very special occasions, and Jake couldn’t think of a better time. It would drain the weapon’s power charge completely, and it would take hours for the rifle to recharge, but he had to hope it would do the trick.

  He popped up to see a wall of white smoke filling the space between him and the assault unit. He couldn’t see the machine, and it couldn’t see him, but he knew exactly where it stood by the grumble of its power plant.

  “Say goodnight, asshole!” Jake shouted just as twin Gatling guns fired blindly through the smoke around him. The terrible realization hit him: this model came equipped with both anti-personnel and Gatlings. A round nicked his arm, twisting him slightly, but the soldier in Jake took over. He braced himself, aimed the Thumper, and pulled the trigger. A sharp crackle of electricity made his hands tingle, and then the BOOM of a lightning strike filled the street as a bright, blue-white pulse blasted out of the Thumper and disappeared through the smoke. The recoil sent Jake flying backward into the wall of the warehouse behind him, and then he heard something massive and metal crash into a building before tumbling to the ground. Through the fog he heard its power plant sputter and go silent.

  Jake smiled with the knowledge that the pilot of the deadly machine never knew what hit him.

  Qi’s guns and those of the other assault unit were firing at each other, filling the night with a horrendous racket of gunfire and ricochets. Jake stood up and looked over Lumpy to see several figures in black sneaking up towards Qi’s digger. One of them had a lit stick of dynamite in his hand. From that angle, Jake knew Qi couldn’t see them.

  “Skeeter! One o’clock, forty feet!” Skeeter propped up on her knees, reached into her jacket and pulled out another popper. She pressed a button on the bottom and hurled it at the men approaching the digger. The popper went off with a loud BOOM, and all three men went flying. Jake leapt up onto the driver’s seat, yanked his pistols, and killed all three of them before they could get off the ground.

  He spotted another figure in black pajamas dashing between some crates beyond Qi’s position. A snap shot from the Peacekeeper sent the man sprawling.

  Qi’s guns went silent, and a second later so did those of the assault unit. Jake figured they were both out of ammunition. In a flash the Confederate machine charged Qi’s digger. She shuffled her machine to the side, but the assault unit reached out with a claw and clamped down on her right gun pod. Hydraulics squealed and crushing metal screamed as the two heavy machines turned once in each other’s grip and fell to the ground in a clanging heap. Jake watched as Qi’s digger tried to pull away, but the second claw clamped down on her other gun pod and squeezed.

  “Get back in the pillbox!” Jake hollered at Skeeter. “And give me a couple of them poppers!”

  Skeeter dove into the pillbox, noticing two, neat holes from the Gatling gun in the outer plate. She handed up two poppers and crouched back down. Jake took a moment to look over the scene. The wagon had been savaged, Qi’s machine was pinned beneath the assault unit, and twelve men stepped out from behind a row of crates lined up past the next building. All of them carried pistols except for two. Szilágyi stood in the middle of the group, and one of his troopers stood to his immediate left. The trooper held a chaingun.

  �
��Well done, Mister Lasater,” Szilágyi shouted as he clapped. His accent was definitely different than Lady Dănești’s. “A most valiant effort, to be certain. Much better than I expected of you, but it’s time for this farce to end before the little girl gets hurt. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Jake licked his lips and looked at the popper in his right hand.

  “I wouldn’t advise that, Mister Lasater. You’d be dead before it went off, and who would protect your little friend?”

  “Jake!” Skeeter shouted, but it was too late this time.

  Something crashed into Jake’s shoulder from above and to his left. One of the poppers flew out of his hand as he and his attacker clattered metallically across the pavement. They both came up at the same time, but Ghiss’ skeletal arm brought up one of his strange pistols and leveled it in Jake’s face.

  “Why Mister Lasater,” Ghiss said smoothly, “imagine meeting you in a place like this.” Jake glared at Ghiss, and the thought of going out in a blaze of glory danced behind his eyes. “What a terrible thought,” the mercenary said, seeing clearly what Jake was thinking, “and pointless. Now drop that remarkable little device and come along quietly. I promise that the girl will be safe.”

  “Your word?” Jake asked, knowing that Ghiss, whatever else he might be, still held to a code of honor.

  “I give you my word, Mister Lasater. She will come to no harm in my care.”

  Jake let the popper clatter to the ground.

  “Jake, no!” Skeeter shouted. “You can’t just give up!”

  Jake snapped his head towards Skeeter. “This is the way it’s gotta be, you hear me? This is one of those times when I’m telling you what to do. Understand?”

  Skeeter’s shoulders slouched, and then she nodded. Jake saw tears rolling down her cheeks.

  Ghiss turned slightly to face Szilágyi. “It seems that our business arrangement is still in place, Colonel. I have Mister Lasater in my custody, and I’m prepared to turn him over to you upon payment in full.”