"Is that right? Well, guess his rampage has to end somewhere. Looks like New Haven is gonna be his last stop."
Johnson gave me a dubious look. "You think you're the one to put him down? I heard you're a hard man to kill, but Kilgore's on another level, brother. From the looks of it, you're lucky to have survived your first run-in if that's what happened."
I touched my bruised face, trying not to wince at the bloom of pain. "This? It's nothing. Should've seen the other guy."
"He'd have to be dead if that's the case. So what brings you back? Looking for another backup piece? No, lemme guess — something for that sexy lady parked outside. A couple of headlight gatlings wouldn’t hurt. Order today, and I'll throw in the ammo as a bonus."
I scanned the room, checking out the lethal arsenal on display. "I'm looking for something a bit more particular, Sarge."
"Well, well." The big man abandoned the table and approached, hands rubbing together. "How particular we talking?"
"Restricted. Particularly the HSSC type. Black market prototypes, high-grade tech too hot for your average street soldier."
Johnson's expression turned serious. "I don't just hand that kind of gear over without a disclaimer: it attracts all the wrong kinds of attention. Can you handle the type of heat that comes with a purchase like that?"
"No worries on that deal, Johnson. I am the heat, after all."
His eyes narrowed. "You're HSSC?"
"In the flesh. Agent Mike Trudo at your service." I pretended not to notice Poddar's disapproving stare.
Johnson sighed, scrubbing a hand through his shaggy hair. "I knew it."
Minutes later, we stood in a private room in the back where Sarge stashed his contraband. "So, you gonna be shutting me down or what? I should've known from the last time you came in here. I told you that kind of marksmanship was uncanny for anyone but an Agent."
"I don't care that you're dealing HSSC gear, Johnson. Last of my worries. Plus, I'm retired from all the cloak and dagger stuff. So let's pretend I'm a guy buying and you're a guy selling, without all the baggage and red tape. Deal?"
He appeared immensely relieved. "Deal. So, what kind of ware are you looking for? Bioguns? Ion cannons? Miracles?"
"I need something that'll give me a chance at going toe-to-toe, blow for blow with Kilgore."
"I don't have any nuclear weapons in stock."
"Funny. I know you got the goods, though. Howzabout you lemme see the cream of the crop?"
He grinned, pressing a button on the wall to expose a compartment where several bodysuits were arranged, illuminated in menacing light to appear almost like skinned corpses. "In the Imperial War, the only equalizers were bulky combat mech suits and exoskeleton armor. Well, the Imperial Age ended, but the technology didn't, which brings us to exodermis enhancer skins, created by Maximillian Industries. Nanofibers threaded like muscle bundles, granting the wearer enhanced strength and speed as sensors on the underside graft to the body. The outside is covered in honeycombed polymer liquid armor that spreads the impact over a wide area to avoid injury. All of that adding only ten extra pounds to your weight."
I grinned. "No heavier than a five-course meal at Luigi's."
He slapped his belly. "Exactly. The skins can be equipped with Hand Firing Mechanisms, or HFMs for short. They discharge electricity with enough power to light up a building, not to mention doubling as bioguns with concussive and lethal firepower modes. Plus, a bonus fist gun mounted on the glove, with a trigger at the end of the barrel. You punch something; it fires a single explosive-tipped round. Last resort weapon, naturally."
I slipped the HFM over my hand, flexing my wrist and fingers. "Neat, but I'm not a superhero fighting bad guys."
"Yeah, just a broke-down Troubleshooter fighting a metahuman super-soldier. Figure you'd take any edge you can get."
"Your sarcastic point is noted. I'll take one."
"Just one?"
"Too cumbersome for my shooting hand. Gotta leave the trigger finger unhindered."
"Understandable." Johnson looked at Poddar. "And what about you, my quiet friend? Something here catch your eye?'
Poddar's gaze flicked over the HFMs and enhancer skins. "I'll take all of it."
"My man."
I pointed to a vest of combat armor on the wall. "That any good?"
"The Shield? It's level 5 plate alloy, coated with a thick anti-spalling layer. Plate carrier is flex-mesh, adding another protective layer. Should stop anything not armor-piercing."
I removed it from the wall hook, hefting it for weight. "I'm thinking more a metahuman punch."
"Never been tested for that. Figure it'll hold up, though."
"I'll find out soon. Rate it afterward."
Johnson snorted. "Yeah, I'll bet. What about you, Mr. Poddar?"
He shook his head. "No need." He picked up a curved sword from the nearby table. A click of a button on the hilt made the blade's edge glow red, humming with every moment. "Laser-edged talwar. I'll definitely take this."
I shook my head. "Don't see what a fancy sword is gonna do against a slug to the face, but suit yourself. We're gonna need to stockpile on wetware, too. The best you got, Johnson. That includes the smart-grenades. Might as well put those gatling upgrades on Maxine too. Don't want her to feel left out."
He grinned. "Now we're talking. I'll get my bots on that while I introduce you to the best iron money can buy."
Once the work was finished and the weaponry stashed, Johnson met us in the garage and calculated the totals on his holoband. "How are you boys paying for all of this? Needless to say, it ain't exactly cheap."
"Send the bill to Luther Vitto."
"Vitto? Word was he got on your bad side not that long ago."
"I put him on his back, sure. Then I put him to work. He has some skills with finances, and I needed my accounts handled with discretion. I'm sure you understand."
"Indeed I do, Mick." Johnson's expression soured when he looked outside at the torrential rain, where the sound of emergency vehicles drowned out the sound of the downpour. "Be careful out there, brother. It's only gonna get worse from here, I can feel it."
"It's gonna get a lot worse for Kilgore, I can promise that. See you on the other side." I hit the thrusters, and Maxine pealed out of the garage into the deluge. Sheets of rain nearly blinded me, but Maxine's autovision system kicked in, creating a digital display of the world beyond her whirring windshield wipers. Didn't matter much since I programmed the destination so she could do the driving while I got used to the enhancer skin under my rags. The sensation was bizarre, both constrained and powerful, like my muscles were compressed springs aching for release. The armored vest strapped over my shirt was a little cumbersome, but I figured the discomfort and poor fashion sense would be worth the price of an unbroken sternum later on.
Poddar shifted in the passenger seat, working the muscles in his arms. "What you were talking about earlier. In the warehouse."
"What of it?"
"I understand what you were trying to say. And if it comes down to it, if I see you turning into someone unrecognizable … I'll do it. I'll put you down, Mick. Seems like that's what you'd prefer."
I lit a gasper and sucked poison, exhaling a stream of smoke directly into Maxine's air purifier vents. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Poddar."
"So now that we're on good ground again, mind telling me where we're going?"
"Beck's place."
"Beck? As in the mayor of New Haven?"
"Yep. He was tied into the whole New Man situation with the thermal orb, which turned out to be nothing but a cover for the god code that Kilgore's looking for. Beck's got a penchant for treasure hunting, and Faraday didn't give him the thermal orb for nothing. I figure there's more to their relationship than meets the eye. If anyone has a bead on Faraday's whereabouts, it's that old codger."