Chapter Eighteen - Gotcha

    Chapter Eighteen - Gotcha

    Every niche has their celebrities. Every community has a few charismatic, or at the very least talented, individuals that everyone gets to know.

    Theyre the name that everyone mentions, the standard that others try to meet.

    This is true both on the micro and macro levels. Nations have popular leaders, and clubs and friend groups have the one person that all the others look up to.

    More often than not, when you introduce a Samurai into that equation, they take that role, and quite comfortably at that.

    Theres just something about the people chosen to be Samurai that makes them stand apart.

    --Extract from a post on the PsychologyForever forums, 2036

    ***

    Alright, so what can you tell me? I asked.

    Stepping forwards, I started to weave my way through the scene, passing between the legs of the mercenaries and looking up at them from new angles. There wasnt that much more to see, really.

    This and that, Dial-Up said. First, your girl here is using a cheap weapon. Twenty-Five points, its a rifle that fires guided micro-missiles.

    Like the Hummingbird? I asked.

    Thats an example, yes, he said. Though this ones reloadable and a bit more reliable. Bit more expensive. You know how that works.

    Alright. I said. What else?

    Lag was the one to step up, his feet clunking on the floor in contrast to my cats paws silent tread. Ive got nothing on these guys. Their gear is just about all aftermarket stuff. Sold to SWAT and some police units. You know the sort.

    I nodded. And?

    And this guy stands out. Lag pointed to the one member of the group with the big backpack covered in high-tech gear. That kind of equipment doesnt come cheap, and it isnt exactly mass-produced. Im getting... about a thousand pings for sales in North America in the last half decade.

    I eyed the guys little antenna and heavy backpack, most of the details were covered in black cloth. Can you pin-point the guy, then?

    Not from that alone, Lag said. He gestured again and a screen appeared next to him. Lists and information scrolling by faster than I could read. See, these things arent meant for nice commercial uses. Its the kind of equipment youd give to an IRL hacker on a squad just like this.

    Any Samurai with similar stuff? I asked.

    Yes. Us, Lag said. The point is, as distinct as this thing is, its not going to be easy to trace. The people who buy this stuff make a point of that. But, this little guy was cheap.

    Cheap how?

    Dial-Up chimed up. Software. He used some custom software to shut down the CCTV systems they crossed. Nice stuff. Well coded. A bit of overkill for the level of tech this building has. Still, it left its mark. Purchased right over here, in the Cube.

    Is this the Enterprise? Daniel asked.

    Dial-Up nodded. It is. Lag, on the screen?

    Lag nodded and soon the front of the bridge, which had a nice view into outer space, flickered and was filled with a websites front page.

    The Hour Men

    Your Target Dead in an Hour or Less!

    Is that really their tagline? I asked. The side had a bunch of generic images, and some boring links above, like Products and Locations in bold.

    Looks like it, Lag said. Theyre pretty open about what they do, but thats normal on the dark web these days. You need to be loud.

    They have a testimonials section, I pointed out.

    Dial-Up shrugged. His eyes were flicking this way and that as he replied. They have great reviews on Yelp.

    I jumped to the captains seat and spun around to sit while facing the front. The better view allowed me to see more of their screen. So are they the ones?

    Cant tell, Lag said. The server their sites on has nothing else on it. The owner of the server... has been dead for twelve years. I cant find anything in the sites code. Its all pre-purchased stuff, bought on credit that was later reported missing. Theyve covered their tracks well.

    So how do I get to them and find McCarthy.

    Oh, they wont have her, Dial-Up said. Not these guys. They probably brought her and her dog somewhere else.

    For fucks sake, I muttered. Can you tell me where?

    Lag hummed, then shook his head. Nope. Tracing their vehicles leads to a parking garage, then the trail goes cold. I could get you a list of employees, but none of them had phones or augs that tracked their motions across the city yesterday. At least, none of those I suspect were on that mission.

    Then... what should I do?

    Dial-Up grinned. You were looking forward to using a bit of violence to solve things, right? Because we have an address IRL.

    So, I can ask them in person? I asked. Yeah, yeah, I think I can do that.

    Well try to give you a hand, Lag said. Youre a stealth specialist, right? We can probably cut the power to the entire block.

    Wouldnt that just alert them all? I asked.

    Lag shrugged. My body is a one hundred and eighty ton tank. I dont do stealth.

    Fair enough. Okay. Okay yeah, I can do that.

    ***