It was only by chance that he glanced up and saw the ghostly figure lurking in the building window three stories up. His heart exploded into overdrive when he snatched the goggles off and stared. The room was darkened, but he caught a glimpse of a dark helmet, a glowing visor…
Vigil. Oh no, no, no…
Before he could open his mouth, the man fired a smoke grenade. It detonated near the vans, expelling a thick cloud of acrid black smoke, causing the CKs to shout in alarm and snatch up weapons. Slick ran in their direction, waving his arms and screaming at the top of his lungs.
"It's him. It's Vigil!"
Headhunter stormed out of the smoke, plasma rifle in hand. A sinister skull was painted on his face, and several ropes of bullets clicked against his bare, muscular chest. The CK captain scanned the buildings with his targeting scope, gold-plated teeth clamped together. "Job was to bark before an attack, ball-sack. You fired."
Slick sputtered a protest, but was shoved aside by the other CKs, who fanned out with weapons snatched from the gun crates.
"Where he is?"
"Can't see nothing!"
"Goggles on, gas-brain."
"I seen something. Over there!"
A shadow burst from the smoke, firing twin handguns, muzzles flashing through the haze. Several CKs screamed as they were struck, blood spurting from rounds that turned their flesh into hamburger. The rest retaliated with a thunderous volley of close-range gunshots. Slick clapped hands over his ears and fell to the ground as bodies dropped and curses rang in the air.
In seconds, it was over.
He sat up, blinking. The smoke had nearly dissipated, giving him a clear look at the majority of the CKs, who crowded around the body convulsing on the ground. Slick scrambled to his feet and took a closer look.
The man dying on the broken asphalt wasn't Vigil.
He wore a makeshift outfit of military surplus gear, including a flak jacket that didn't protect him from the plasma rounds that punched right through. His helmet had fallen off, and his infrared visor was shattered. He couldn't have been older than twenty-five. Sweat slicked his face, and his teeth were gritted, stifling his agonized groans from the wounds that perforated his body.
"Oh… God, it hurts," he gasped, staring at the men who shot him as if expecting them to help. Tears trickled from his eyes. "Please… call a Rescue unit."
Headhunter propped his rifle on his shoulder, grinning through his skull paint. "Oh, you want help? Here, got some for you."
Pointing the rifle downward, he fired the kill shot. As a dark stain spread around the vigilante's head, the CKs whooped and hi-fived, waving their weapons in celebration.
"Did that, dun."
"Straight aborted dat azz."
"Tapped dat skully."
"Harshed his mellow."
"Toe-tagged dat stiff, cuz."
Headhunter raised his weapon. "You see that, braz? We just smoked Vigil. We gonna be legends!"
Slick edged closer. "Not Vigil."
The crew quieted down as Slick knelt next to the corpse. Headhunter sneered.
"How you know what Vigil look like, squirrely?'
"'Cause I seen Vigil. He a beast. Way bigger than this guy. Better armor too."
"Must be one of those Vigilant clowns," one of the others said.
"Posers. Dey everywhere now."
Headhunter shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. Still snuffed this slouch, doh. Let's get those crates packed and head out before shields show up."
"Yeah, gunshot report prob out by now."
"We hidden from evil eyes, right?"
"Slick supposed to handle."
Headhunter turned to Slick. "You activate the dampeners?"
Slick trembled when all eyes turned to him. He knew there was something he forgot to do.
"DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND SURRENDER NOW," a mechanical voice boomed, the sound echoing all around them.
Dust kicked up when an RCE chopper swooped down in between the buildings. Disorienting lights flickered, and eardrum-shattering sonic whined. The CKs scattered as drone soldiers jumped out of the helicopter, black armor gleaming, blue lights flashing from their insectoid helmets. Some of the CKs stood their ground, opening fire on the robotic police units.
Slick didn't.
Yelling, he dropped low and ran as fast as he could, heart slamming against his chest, bullets whining around him, dust kicking up, shouts and screams ringing in his ears, the scent of hot metal in his nostrils, sandpaper coating his tongue. He ran until the sounds faded, until he joined crowds of people in the streets of the closest avenue, shoving and bouncing off startled bodies. He ran until his legs gave out and he crashed to the hot sidewalk, ignored by passersby as he puked his guts out and cursed the day he ever laid eyes on the Crimson Kings.
Ronnie Banks sighed as she exited from her RCE aerodyne into the sweltering heat. Officers and forensic androids secured the scene and tallied the damage. From what she saw, it amounted to a lot of dead bodies. She glanced at Isaac as he emerged from the passenger side.
"I swear, how many times does this happen? It was supposed to be a sting op, not a massacre. We're supposed to have bangers in cuffs, not body bags."
Her metallic-skinned partner's neon-blue eyes flashed as he surveyed the scene, recording footage for post-op evaluation. "That's what happens when drones take point on missions. Target and destroy."
"Yeah, I keep telling the Chief we need warm bodies on point, but he won't budge."
"Well, fewer officers have been killed since the mandate." Isaac looked at his gleaming, robotic hands. I like to think my… incident had something to do with that."
She gave him an empathetic look. "I didn't mean to—"
"No worries, Ronnie. It is what it is."
They passed lines of officers and investigators who looked up and gave Ronnie respectful nods and greetings.
"Captain."
"Captain.
She still wasn't used to the new rank, but after she arrested Denizens of Haven Core and got away with it, Commissioner Miller didn't really have a choice but to promote her. And she couldn't help but suspect that Miller's ulterior motive was thinking that with the new rank, she'd spend less time in the streets.
If so, he thought wrong.
The men averted their gaze or ignored Isaac. In their eyes, he was an abomination, some unnatural mix of man and machine. Even officers that used to work with him kept their distance. Her mouth tightened, but there wasn't anything she could do about their feelings. Isaac's body might have been in a vegetative state, but a part of his mind was still active, linked to the robot body through a remote neural interface. His android face wasn't as expressive as his real one, but he still acted like her partner, and nothing could change how she saw him. She knew that the other officers looked at him as a possibility for their own futures, and most couldn't stomach the thought.
Isaac claimed that it didn't bother him, but his posture indicated his discomfort even in a robot form. He was a towering giant at nearly seven feet tall, but he didn't cut his way through the crowd as he could have. Instead, he carefully weaved past the other officers, apologizing to any he brushed along the way.
Ronnie spotted the Enforcement squad leader and groaned inwardly. "Sergeant Brooks."
Brooks was tall and lean, narrowed-faced and hard-eyed. She wore her armored black jumpsuit and gear as if born in it, unhampered by the cyber-enhanced headgear and exo-spine that most found uncomfortable. She turned from giving directions to a trooper and snapped a salute to Ronnie.