He wiped grease from his chin with the back of his gloved hand. "Yeah, yeah. Look, if a man can't enjoy the little things, what's the point of all this?"
He continued, guiding Annmarie down a narrow avenue leading to the heart of the city. It was even more crowded, making it extremely hard to eat on the move. He did his best, trying to savor the taste even as he ate quickly as possible. In between bites, he continued making his case.
"I swear, I don't know why you keep busting my balls. The whole trip you've been on my case about how we move, what routes to take. I haven't had a good night's sleep in days. And for what? This whole op has been a cakewalk."
"So far."
"Yeah. So far. We're three blocks away from pay dirt and you're still giving me grief. You gotta learn to relax if you're gonna make it in this business."
"Hard to do when our drones just went down."
Cash paused in the act of stuffing his mouth with more tamale. "What?"
"Someone killed surveillance. I'm blind. Move your ass; we're compromised."
"Damn it!" He grabbed Annmarie's pudgy arm with one hand, thrusting the other in his jacket for his handgun. Wheeling around, he scanned the bustling crowd. People streamed by, many giving him irritated glances for interrupting the flow of traffic. Others stepped warily to the side, recognizing trouble about to brew.
He released Annmarie long enough to tap on his sunglasses. "Increase threat detection. Show me anyone within thirty yards who's carrying a firearm."
Nearly everyone in the vicinity lit up red in the display. The digital scanner zeroed in on concealed weapons carried by ninety percent of the crowd.
He snatched the goggles off. "This is useless. Come on; we gotta move." He pulled Annmarie along, hustling through the crowd at the briskest walk he could manage, ignoring the enraged curses and shouts from the people he jostled as they passed.
Annmarie stumbled, panting from the effort. "Hey, slow down. These extra pounds are killing me."
"Should have thought of that before you chose a fat man suit." He threw a look over his shoulder. "I got two skulks on my tail. Big, ugly. Black bandannas, facial tattoos. Copy that, Deejay?"
"Cartel thugs. Get out of there, Cash. Don't use your gun unless you need to. TJPD doesn't approve much."
"Yeah, well I don't approve of dying. Especially when I'm about to get paid." He shoved Annmarie into a narrow alley. "Keep going. I'll catch up."
She broke into a wobbling run, going as fast as her ungainly form allowed. Cash grinned as he ducked to the side and slipped cyber-knuckles over his fingers. Don't think you're going too far with all that extra weight.
The first cartel thug lunged into the alley, looking around with the angry expression of a dimwitted bull. Cash's fist shot out, connecting a sharp jab and discharging fifty-thousand volts of electricity when the knuckles made contact with the man's meaty jaw. He slumped to the ground with a muffled groan, muscles convulsing uncontrollably.
Cash ducked as the second thug thrust his arm in and fired a sporadic burst of shots into the alley. Grabbing the man by his gun hand, he twisted the wrist until tendons cracked. The thug dropped his weapon, snarling as he seized Cash by the collar with his other hand and slammed him into the alley wall. Cash responded by jamming his fingers into the thug's eyes. The man screamed, staggering backward.
Cash put his weight behind a vicious kick into the side of the man's knee, buckling it with a cracking sound. He finished the brute by grabbing his head in both hands and smashing it into the wall. The man went limp the second time, but Cash repeated the act just in case.
Chest heaving, he let the body fall to the ground. "Two down, Deejay. Can you activate the tracker we put in Annmarie's food?"
"Yep. She's on your holoband's mapping display."
He quickly pulled it up, glancing at the coordinates. "Got her. Sheesh, she only made it one block. Those extra pounds really are weighing her down."
He darted across an adjacent alley and cut across to the main street, where a colorful parade marched along. Beautiful women in brightly colored dresses span and danced, mariachi bands played and sang, flag bearers waved the nation's colors, all the while streamers fluttered, rose petals showered down, and people clapped and cheered.
Cash pushed through the milling revelers, pausing only to seize a startled Annmarie by the arm.
"You're not safe yet. Come one."
Her masculine face stared at him in shock. "You put a tracker on me."
"In you, actually. You ate it this morning with your eggs."
"You sneaky son of a—"
The side of her head exploded in a cloud of thick pink mist. Her entire body rocked from the impact, showering the nearby celebrators with gore. It took several seconds for the shocked crowds to register what happened.
When they did, chaos erupted.
Screams filled the air as people stampeded, destroying carts and makeshift shops, trampling one another to escape the vicinity. Sirens wailed and enforcer androids spilled from their stations like metallic ants. They scanned the immediate area, set up barricades, and tried to direct the panicked masses to safety.
Cash was already on the move. He kept his eyes on the rooftops, where a heavily hooded individual was barely visible, leaping from one ledge to the next.
"Gunman took out Annmarie. Headshot. I got eyes on the shooter. I'm taking him down."
"Call it off, Cash. We lost. Arresting the killer is a job for the cops. There's nothing in it for us."
"Yeah, there is. Satisfaction." Cash leaped over a police barricade, ignoring the buzzing from the enforcer android next to it. A line of zip bike rentals were secured against the nearby building. Cash hopped on one, paying the fee with a swipe of his holoband to unlock it. He eased it back, wheeled the nose upward and hit the thrusters, shooting the slim, aerodynamic hover-cycle up the side of the building in a cloud of dust.
Gritting his teeth, he gave the steering controls a sadistic twist, barely righting the bike before it threw him off into space. Setting the bike on HOVER, he spun in a slow circle, trying to get his bearings. Lower Tijuana was a maze of shops, restaurants, bars, and clubs, all clustered together with little breathing room. Perfect for the parkour-style leaps, swings, and vaults of the assassin as he ran and clambered from one rooftop to the next without slowing.
Orbital probes drifted up from their housings in the buildings, indicating the police had pieced together the chaotic scene below and realized the shot came from above. The probes circled about before locking onto the runner and trailing after. Cash figured it was a matter of seconds before the police showed up on floaters and secured the scene.
Deejay is right. What are you doing? There's no money in it.
He ignored the inner logic and hit the thrusters, propelling forward in a blur of movement. It took only a second to catch up the runner. Cash slammed on the reverse thrusters and leaped off the zip bike onto the shooter, bowling him over. They tumbled across the rooftop in a tangle of arms and legs. It hurt a lot worse than Cash thought it would.
He rolled to his feet and snatched his FN57 handgun out. The gunman spun like a dancer, kicking the weapon out of his hand. A second kick followed, smashing right into Cash's stomach. Groaning, he tried to recover, but the assassin punched him in the face. His head snapped backward, tears blurring his vision. What’s his hand made out of — steel?
He managed to catch the fist the second time. It was metal, just as he thought. The shooter's entire right arm was bionic. It was also much stronger than his, easily crushing his fingers together and forcing him to his knees. He reached up with his other arm, fingers snagging on the assassin's hooded mask and yanking it off. His eyes widened.