Where will the trap be?
They were closing on the building with the rooftop observers when one of them jumped up and fired off two rounds that threw dust but hit nothing.
Abby pumped a sleepy dart into him about the same time the sergeant did. The young man slumped to the roof and would have slid off it if the other one with him hadn't grabbed for him.
Shouting, ''Don't shoot. Don't shoot me,'' a girl got him stabilized beside her. ''He wasn't supposed to do that,'' she added.
Abby and Sergeant Bruce kept walking.
''That's the problem with gangers,'' Bruce muttered. ''No discipline. You Marines, you hear me,'' he said, raising his voice. ''I want somebody dead, you make them so. I don't want any shooting, you keep ‘em cocked and locked. You hear me?''
''Ooo-Rah'' came back at him.
Abby measured the words…and the voice. He could have said it on net, but he'd said it loud…to the hood. Be interesting to see how the other side took it.
They walked another dusty block.
Abby could make out movement now in the shadows behind shattered windows. Broken and rotted floors creaked as people tried, unsuccessfully, to either stay out of sight and out of mind…or keep up with the squad as it advanced on their Crypt.
''These Bones rattle too much,'' Sergeant Bruce said with a professional smile.
''You know if they're carrying heat?'' Abby asked. She was discovering just how glad she was not to be doing this alone.
''Gabby, any report on weapons in sight or sensor range?''
''Sarge, we got a lot of rapid heartbeats around us, a few are following along with us, but I'm not sniffing any explosives. You'll know the second I do.''
''You be sure of that,'' Bruce said, then said aside to Abby, ''You keeping track of Second and the motor brigade's doing?''
Abby glanced at her wrist unit. ''Second squad is just pulling into the tram station. The motorized contingent should reach the station about the same time as Second.''
''So lets try not to start anything before they get here, what do you say, Ms. Custer?''
''You're Marines, Sarge, not Army cavalry,'' Abby said, proud that she could match the sergeant's historical reference.
''If you could cook, I'd have to consider marrying you. By the way, that was good shooting back there. I hit the right shoulder, you hit the left.''
''Hate to tell you, but I can't even boil water safely,'' Abby said, deflecting something she might want to come back to later.
''Tend to dump it over some obnoxious guy's head, huh? Well, us Marines are many things, but not obnoxious.''
''I'll think about that. I think that's the Burrito Palace in the next block. I see folks on the roof and the front porch.'' That ended conversation.
The gang's hangout was a wood and stucco two story. Once it might have been a nice home, when it was painted and the stucco wasn't falling off. The front porch was shaded by a balcony that had it's own tables under sun-faded umbrellas.
Over a dozen men, with a similar count of women, slouched in the chairs above and below.
''Gabby, talk to me about this Palace.''
''I got the pitter-patter of thirty fast-beating hearts inside. These folks are nervous. I'm picking up ammo. Lots of exits from that building. Back, sides, as well as front.''
''What about the place across the street?''
''Empty. Totally empty. You think, Sarge, maybe these folks know better than to set up an ambush that puts themselves in their own crossfire?''
''Wouldn't put them past it. Nugent, bring your team across the street. We'll let them have the right side of the street. We'll take the left.''
A minute later, the squad was deployed across from the Bones, relaxing in the shade. But not taking their eyes off the Palace. Or their hands far from their service automatics.
In the morning heat, the tram bell rang out. Second would be arriving at the station. Did Abby pick up the deep throated hum of the motor rigs with Kris and the Marine captain?
It was time to act.
Abby stepped forward…and found Bruce ambling along at her side.
''You don't have to do this.''
''But nobody said I couldn't. I got good corporals. Lets me have some fun now and then.''
''Marines!'' Abby said in exasperation.
''Ain't this why you love us so much.'' was no question.
But ''What you doing at our Crypt. You ready to be Bones?'' was what got Abby's attention.
''I've come to talk,'' Abby said, voice even and clear.
Across the street from her, a punk with bad acne and a worse leer shook his head. ''Shows what you know about the Bones. We don't talk to you. We do you.''
That got a laugh from the porch. Abby could almost hear pistols slipping out of their hidden holsters. These were the best the Bones had. These were the ones that carried the heat.
Do this wrong, Abby girl, and there will be a lot of blood and guts on the street, but not one ounce of brains.
''I heard tell that you might have happened on a friend of mine. Young kid. About as tall as me.''
''You like ‘em young'' came from another punk, and brought snickers.
''My niece likes him,'' was all Abby said.
''Maybe I like her,'' said another lounger. He got even more snickers, and suggestions of what to do with Cara, and how.
Abby found her hold on her temper slipping.
And a firm hand gripped her right elbow.
''We didn't come here to banter with nadas,'' Sergeant Bruce's voice rang out loud and clear. ''Why don't you take your jokes inside and tell the Bone Man he's got company that wants to discuss some serious shit with him?''
''And who might that be?'' said the first slick punk with the sly grin Abby so wanted to wipe off his face.
''Princess Kristine of Wardhaven.'' blasted loud.
Three black, all-terrain rigs gunned down the street, sending a cloud of dust out that could have passed for a smoke screen. The ''sunroof'' was open on all three, with gunners manning mean-looking machine guns from well-defended positions. Second squad rode the running boards.
A moment later, the three rigs came to a halt behind Abby and Sergeant Bruce. Marines poured off them and came out of the shade behind them to fill in the intervals with armed and ready shooters.
''Now that's the way the cavalry is supposed to do it,'' Bruce whispered in Abby's ear.
27
Kris let the Marines do their thing, waiting in the back seat of the middle rig, careful not to step on any of the captain's sparkles. Though she was only seeing it from the rear, so to speak, the show was quite impressive.
With full-battle rattle, it would be as intimidating as all get out.
It was probably the lack of full-battle gear that left someone with the guts to shoot.
Kris was about to let Captain DeVar hand her out of the rig. That would normally have been Jack's job, but what with both of them beat up, it would not have been very impressive for them to fall flat on their asses. So Kris was just that extra second longer in dismounting and someone was just recovered enough to take a shot.
It was a strange battle to listen to. Or maybe this battle was a unique affair.
A pistol snapped off full-power rounds as fast as someone could pull the trigger. Another joined it. Then more.
From around Kris, she heard the pop of one low-powered sleepy dart. Then another single shot. Then more.
Very quickly there was nothing coming in on full power.
Just as quickly, the sleepy darts fell silent.
Captain DeVar stood up on the running board, giving Kris a good view of the sharp creases in even his civilian pants. ''You dudes had enough fun? Any more of you want to try that?''
Apparently the survivors declined the offer.
''Any Marines down?''
''No, sir,'' the sergeants answered quickly.
The captain dropped gracefully down to the ground and faced Kris. ''Your Highness, you sure you want to do this? I imagine about now, there's a lot of folks in great need of changing their underwear. I figure I can get the kid back just fine.''