Water Dictatorship Part 12

Angelo shook his head. "It's not that. It's the principle of the thing."

"Your principles are not a survival trait, Dumb-tective." Chee sneered.

Marlowe's cell phone rang. He dug into his pocket and flipped it out. "Yes?... What? Slow down... My G.o.d!... Keep them out, I don't care what it takes!" He slammed the phone shut. "Well Angelo, part of your plan worked anyway. They just served the search warrant at LABN."

"Uh oh." Chee said.

Marlowe was already on the phone to his lawyer. "Ira! Yes I know what time it is. The police just served a search warrant at LABN. Get down there and stop them. I don't care how. I'm on my way. Yes, thank you, Good-bye."

"It's all over." Angelo said "Give up now, and don't make this any worse on yourself than it has to be."

A motor revved out on the high way. It was the only sound for miles.

Marlowe chuckled. "Nice try." He raised his head to speak to the two hit people. Headlights caught him in their high beam. Sirens on a police car blared. "Hold it right there!" an amplified voice yelled.

The two a.s.sa.s.sins calmly surveyed the situation. There was only the noise from one car. These people had no back up. They calmly leveled their guns at the patrol car and started shooting.

Marlowe and Chee bolted for the SUV.

Angelo dove into the male a.s.sa.s.sin and began to wrestle with him. The dirt and gravel of the access road were surprisingly hard and cold. Sand poured into Angelo's collar as he fought the a.s.sa.s.sin.

The woman faded into the sage brush, placing careful shots into the police car. Wild gunfire returned from it. Angelo could hear a male voice screaming from inside the car.

The a.s.sa.s.sin got good leverage and pinned Angelo. Then he wrestled his gun half free. Angelo was forced to choose between dignity and life. He bit the a.s.sa.s.sin in the crotch as hard as he could.

"Eeeeee!" The man screamed in pain. His eyes bugged out. Angelo reversed the hold on the gun and shot him through the head. The a.s.sa.s.sin spasmed and died instantly.

Angelo scrambled out from under the dead body to see the SUV bouncing down the access road away from the scene of the gun fight. He retreated to the police car.

Mangar was in the bushes off the pa.s.senger side of the car. He was not shooting any more, and neither was the female a.s.sa.s.sin. Angelo crept around to the drivers side door. Only a single half shattered light shone from the top of the car. Angelo blanched at the accuracy of the shooting from a hand gun. Head lights, spot lights and pursuit flashers were all gone.

A single shot impacted not far from Angelo's head. He ducked further. Mangar winged a shot into the dark near the location of the shot.

"Who in the f.u.c.k is that?" Mangar hissed.

"Don't know." Angelo said. He leaned into the car to check Souza. He was slumped down in the seat bleeding fiercely from a wound in his chest. Angelo knew that Souza was in trouble. "We've got to get him out of here."

"Right. You drive, I'll cover." Mangar said.

Angelo unbuckled Souza's seat belt and pushed him over in the car. That earned another well placed shot the windshield.

Mangar returned three shots. "Got any more ammo?"

"No, check him." Angelo slid into the driver's seat and turned the motor over. It rattled, but ran.

Mangar dug out Souza's clips. He sat in the pa.s.senger side and fired into the darkness in carefully timed increments. Angelo pulled the car back down the access road to the highway.

Angelo noticed that the driver's seat of the police car was soaked through with Souza's blood when it soaked through the seat of his pants. Angelo picked up the radio and began to call for help.

They slid down the road slowly for a while. Angelo didn't want to fight the female a.s.sa.s.sin for her exit. Saving Souza was more important.

After a few minutes, Mangar calmed down enough to get the shakes. He was holding Souza propped up against him. Angelo didn't comment. After you were partnered with a guy for a while you tended to get attached. The h.o.m.ophobic police profession didn't deal well with close platonic friendships, and so the custom was to ignore it and act as though nothing happened.

"Does that kind of s.h.i.t happen to you often?" Mangar asked Angelo.

"That depends on what you mean by 'often'." Angelo said. He was shaking, too.

Some evidence of the shoot out was discovered. Spent rounds were laying on the ground were the automatic pistols ejected them. The rattling Beamer, the male a.s.sa.s.sin's body and most other clues were gone.

A warrant was issued for Marlowe and Chee. Uhura, Anderson and Franks discovered the virus and notes for the plot on Shane Chee's computer, but there was little they could do with it. There was a question whether owning or writing destructive computer programs was illegal or merely using them. They found no way to prove that Shane Chee was responsible for introducing the code into the VCPD computer network.

Many of the LABN computers and networks were impounded as evidence. As soon as word of the seizure leaked out. LABN was doomed. Creditors demanded repayment of debts that the company could not pay. Marlowe did not reappear.

Chee had several witnesses that he was at an all night meeting of some hacker's club or other. Angelo had no evidence to bring charges against him with. The young man was off the hook.

The desert air baked Marlowe. A dry dusty feeling invaded his soul. He was in touch with Johnson across the border, but the relationship was strained. Johnson kept urging Marlowe to return to the North and clear the matter up. Marlowe's credit cards and bank cards stopped working. Johnson told him of the dissolution of LABN. Marlowe's home and possessions were seized and sold to hungry creditors.

The late after noon sun cut through the adobe arches, and reflected off the stucco surfaces. Marlowe would have sworn that places like these were mythical, but they were there, hidden in the deserts and out of the way places in northern Mexico. His black SUV looked out of place and beat up. It was tough, but never intended for rough country like the desert.

Marlowe sipped a bitter, nasty tasting beer and surveyed his options. He was a wanted man on the run in Mexico. Only the clothes on his back and his vehicle to his name. He'd been close to the top of the world. So many dollars that he didn't even need to count them and now it was all gone.

He fingered a wad of Mexican pesos in his pocket. That was his watch and his cell phone, sold to some urchin on the street somewhere for enough gas money to keep moving. It was drying up fast, and Marlowe had no ideas about what to do when it was gone.

Marlowe sipped his beer. Half an hour later, a thumping sound wafted through the air. Helicopter. Marlowe almost ignored the sound. Helicopters were ubiquitous in L.A. But the people of the village were reacting. They didn't see too many helicopters around here. Shivers ran up and down Marlowe's spine.

He got up and looked out of the arch way. An old military style jeep roared up. Just like "Rat Patrol" there was a fifty caliber machine gun mounted on the back, and three men in olive drab uniforms and green metal pot helmets. A figure ran out to meet them. A few word were exchanged. The Helicopter was getting closer, now.

The figure pointed at the cantina where Marlowe watched impa.s.sively.

The soldiers started strutting towards the cantina.

Marlowe drew out a silvery automatic pistol. It was German, expensive and deadly. People in the Cantina began to react to a gringo with a gun and soldiers approaching. They screamed and dove for cover. Marlowe knew how it would end. He discovered he'd really rather not bother.

He put the gun in his mouth. A gust from the approaching helicopter blew gritty sand into his eyes. Marlowe pulled the trigger.

"Thank you for choosing Geos-2000!" Angelo's computer chirped. Angelo was installing the latest version of the operating system.

He looked at the back of the box that held the software disk. There was a picture of Wild Bill Dornan, George Cunningham and Shane Chee, the team responsible for the newest standard in computer software, Geos-2000.

"What is your destination, today?" Angelo's computer chirped with barely restrained optimism.

Angelo turned off the computer and went outside.

End