DJ's Mission (7 page)

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Authors: A. E. McCullough

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Fiction, #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: DJ's Mission
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Ryan actually seemed nervous around the
para-militaristic lawmen but then, he was just a kid. However, Jennifer had
learned to trust his judgment over the last few months. So if he was wary, she
needed to stay on her toes.

The blonde haired sheriff stepped forward slightly
and snapped to attention with a click of his heels. “Greetings Miss Moody, I’m
Deputy Hagan.” As he held out his right hand in a welcoming gesture, his
partner to his left also snapped to the same rigid attention stance with the
clicking of his heels. “And this is Deputy Bunnell. We are to be your escorts.”

Jennifer decided that it was best to keep them off
balance a bit, so she turned on her charm. With a flurry of batting eyelashes,
she moved alongside and wrapped one arm around the squad leader’s arm while
placing the other on her chest, which naturally drew his eyes downward as she
leaned forward ever-so-slightly, showing off her wares. “Why Deputy Hagan…you
didn’t have to go through all that trouble for little ol’ me.”

Deputy Hagan forced his eyes back up to meet hers
as he answered. “Yes ma’am we did. Sheriff Kassinger takes the security of
visiting celebrities very serious.”

Jennifer stepped forward with an exaggerated sway
of her hips and looped her other arm around Deputy Bunnell’s arm. She noted
that she was several inches taller than him which would allow her to, more or
less wave her hefty chest right under his nose. She knew from past practices
meant that he would be distracted and easy to manipulate. “So, you two handsome
men are to be my escorts? Lucky me!”

When she said that last part, she shifted her
posture a bit and innocently rubbed her ample breasts prominently displayed in
a low-cut blouse against Bunnell’s arm. From the way he blushed and his eyes
flickered only from where they were walking to and back to her chest, she knew
she had him completely distracted.

Deputy Hagan cleared his throat. “No ma’am, lucky
us. We were hand-picked by the Sheriff for this detail and are extremely
honored to be here. However, I must stress that your safety can only be
guaranteed while you are in our presence.”

“Why? Has there been some sort of threats?”

Deputy Hagan shook his head. “Not to my knowledge.
But then, I only follow orders and those are to escort you from the Starport to
your hotel in Titan City. Transportation has been arranged.”

Jennifer glanced over her shoulder at Ryan. Having
an armed escort around Saturn and her moons was not something they had counted
on. Nevertheless, it hinted that Titan Avionics had more to hide than they had
guessed. Before she could turn back to Deputy Hagan, Ryan signaled that he was
taping and pointed over her shoulder toward the line of taxis. Following his
gaze, it didn’t take long to spy what had captured his attention.

“Deputy Hagan, who is that?”

“Who?”

“The mountain of a man in the red hawk-looking
armor.”

“Oh him,” Deputy Hagan scoffed. “That is a
notorious bounty hunter known as the Red Falcon. He’s evidently on the trail of
some thief called El Gato. Galactic regulations force us to allow his kind here
but don’t concern yourself with him. He’s nothing more than a common thug in
some shiny armor.”

Jennifer felt her heart flutter. Without meaning
to, Deputy Hagan had let slip more than enough information to arouse her
curiosity. Telling her not to investigate would be like telling a mouse to
ignore that block of cheese sitting three feet away. It wasn’t going to happen.

On the other hand, she was here for a story on
Titan Avionics and judging from the deputy’s dismissive tone, she wouldn’t get
much more about the bounty hunter from him. So, she turned on her charm and
talked about nothing in particular but all the while drawing the two lawmen out
of their shells. It wasn’t long until they were the ones talking, telling her
all about their lives as sheriffs and serving Titan Avionics.

Jennifer nodded and listened. She would ask a
probing question here and respond with a flirty gesture there. She had learned
long ago that men were always a fool around a beautiful woman. Now she used
that knowledge to her advantage. All the while, Ryan sat back and quietly
recorded everything.

*   *   *   *   *

As he glanced at the waiting crowds, DJ weighed his
options. He needed to get more information concerning the comings and goings of
Retired Admiral Thomas. UR-L8 had given him detailed schematics of the mansion
but knew nothing pertaining to the security systems. Then there was the
transportation problem. He hated the thought of hiring a ride to take him
around the moons but there weren’t too many choices available. Titan Avionics
had intentionally set up the Saturn infrastructure where ninety-nine percent of
the population would be dependent on mass transportation. This allowed them an
inordinate amount of control over the masses. For those with the funds, this
meant skimmers or shuttles. The major difference between the two was the range
at which they could travel. Skimmers were limited in travel to one planet or
moon while the shuttles could move about the Saturnian system with ease. Of
course he knew from his research that neither flight paths were as strictly
controlled or regulated like those back on Earth.

Directly ahead were the ferries. Big, cheap
transport shuttles designed for the masses to carry them from the starport to
any of the moons or the many domed cities of Titan.

He dismissed this option as quickly as he
considered it. If he drew too much attention he might get challenged by some
young upstart trying to make a name for himself. DJ had seen Iaido challenged a
number of times over the last several months. It was often known as the
‘gunfighter’ effect. When you’re at the top of the ladder, someone below will
always try to bump you off and take your place. Therefore, DJ didn’t want to be
stuck on a ferry full of civilians. He might inadvertently endanger them during
his passage.

To his far left were the limousines style
skimmers. He had enough credits to hire one and it would certainly have the
advantage of privacy but then, he wouldn’t be able to blend in...at least not
in the places he might have to travel to pull off this rescue.

Upstairs, he could see the rental counter for Saturn
Shuttles where he could rent his own skimmer or shuttle. But since he didn’t
just need transportation from point A to point B, nor did he know where he was
going exactly, so he had to dismiss that option even though it offered the most
flexibility.

He needed someone who knew the back alley ways of
Titan and her sister moons which meant the hiring of a cabbie and his taxi.
There were about a dozen of them parked off to his right in a nice neat row. As
one would get filled up by arriving passengers, it would depart and another
would take its place. It was extremely efficient and commonplace. Whether they
were designed for travel around town or between moons, every taxi looked the
same, from Titan to New Atlanta. Built with easy access in mind with roomy
interiors and plenty of storage for luggage, they all bore dented exteriors, a
testament to the rough treatment their drivers put them through. All except
one.

DJ paused to study the exception.

This taxi was completely different from the rest.
Sleek of design, it gleamed with fresh polish. Although the red paint was
faded, it was obvious that its driver took pride in his ride. DJ could also
tell that the driver liked to ‘buck the system’ since every other taxi was
parked neatly in a row waiting on fares. Not this one. He had backed his cab up
against the far wall where he could watch the coming and goings of everyone.
This would also allow him to pull out at any time and not be blocked in by the
other waiting taxis.

DJ glanced back at the rows of taxis. They were
dirtier and bore the mark of heavy use. The cabbies barely spoke to the
passengers other than to get a destination and whoosh, they were off. These
were the drivers of the establishment; easily tracked by Titan Avionics and the
Saturn Sheriffs.

 Looking back to the lone red taxi, he spied the
driver leaning against the nearby wall smoking seemingly unaware of his
surroundings. But DJ knew that to be a lie. The driver’s eyes darted to and
fro, watching everything and everyone. The sensors in his CSA suit confirmed
that he was smoking a marijuana cigarette, which wasn’t at all unusual or
illegal. What DJ found unusual was the alertness of the driver while under the
influence of the cannabis drug. Typically believed to be a hallucinogen, he
knew it exhibited properties similar to some stimulants and depressants with a
unique blending of properties. Even though completely legal throughout the
Terran system, it was still considered a taboo drug.

Having made his decision, DJ moved away from the
crowd and headed towards the red taxi.

The ebony skinned driver immediately tapped out
his blunt and moved to the driver’s door. Even though DJ could see his pearly
white smile, his body language was far from relaxed. As a matter of fact, he
thought the driver would flee before he crossed the thirty yards separating
them. Of course he was in the Red Falcon armor and must look rather
intimidating, especially when compared to the civilians nearby.

Slowing his approach, DJ scanned the cabbie and
tried to figure out how to calm him down without having to remove his armor.
That’s when he noticed a green beret tucked into the driver’s jacket pocket
which bore a small black and silver emblem. It was a crest with a sword
pointing upwards with two crossed arrows over the blade and a worn motto
written underneath.

“De Oppresso Libre.” DJ spoke the words aloud like
an ancient charm.

Immediately, the cabbie seemed to relax. He nodded
slightly and his big smile faded but was replaced by a small self-satisfying
grin. “We Liberate the Oppressed; the motto of the Green Berets, my old unit. I
haven’t heard anyone speak those words in many a year.”

“We chewed up some of the same ground during those
days. Semper Fi.”

The cabbie threw his hands into the air and turned
completely around. “A freakin’ Marine! Bless my soul. A freakin’ Marine needs a
ride.” The ebony skinned cabbie turned to his red taxi and began to talk to it.
“Lucille…did you hear that? A damn Marine needs a ride.”

DJ half expected the taxi to talk back in this day
and age of artificial intelligence but if ‘Lucille’ could talk, only the cabbie
heard her responses.

“I don’t know where he’s going yet. He’s just got
here. Now, hush!”

When the cabbie pulled off his toboggan and
exposed his bald head, DJ noticed that he was more than bald. He was hairless.
No whiskers. No eyebrows. No five o’clock shadow. No hair at all. Additionally,
his dark eyes showed a slight yellowing on the edges, evidence of jaundice. DJ
immediately coupled those two symptoms together with the smoking of marijuana
and he realized that this veteran was fighting liver cancer.

The cabbie moved to the back door and opened it
wide with one hand while polishing Lucille with the other. “Tony’s the name and
shuttlin’ the game.”

“Rote Faulken.”

Tony cocked his head to the side and had that
‘deer in the headlights’ look of confusion.

“Just call me Red Falcon.” DJ saw the lights come
back on in Tony’s eyes. “I need transportation around Titan.”

With a grin as large as the Cheshire Cat, Tony
hopped in the front of his taxi. “Get in, get in.”

Before DJ entered the cab, he turned to UR-L8 and
said, “Get back to Kaitlyn and let her know I’m here. I’m not exactly sure of
how or when but make sure she’s ready when the time comes.”

“It will be this unit’s pleasure. Good luck sir.”
UR-L8 whistled twice and sped back into the starport.

DJ watched until his daughter’s ‘bot was swallowed
up by the pedestrian traffic before climbing into the back of the taxi. He
expected to be extremely cramped in the back seat but discovered that, even in
his armor, he had plenty of room.

The door was barely closed when ‘Lucille’ took
off. Tony drove the taxi like a starfighter, swerving in and out of traffic,
dodging barricades and ignoring traffic signs. Tony glanced in his rear view
mirror. “What’s a Marine doing in Confederate Scout Armor?”

DJ chuckled. “It was handy. After the war when I
turned my skills to bounty hunting, it was all I could afford. Now,” he
shrugged, “it’s more like my trademark.”

Tony seemed to accept that answer and nodded to
himself. “Where exactly are we going on Titan? It is rather large.”

“Have you ever heard of a casino called Mocha
Delights?”

Tony laughed. “Calling Mocha Delights a casino is
like calling the Kentucky Derby a horse race.”

It was DJ’s turn to be confused. “But the Kentucky
Derby is a horse race.”

Tony shook his head. “You are obviously not from
Kentucky or a fan of horse racing. It’s not A horse race, it’s THE horse race.
Every other race is compared to the Kentucky Derby. That’s what makes it so special.”

DJ nodded his understanding. “So you’re saying
that Mocha Delights is what all other casinos should aspire to?”

“Yep. It’s more than just a casino. It’s a
restaurant, hotel, spa and strip club rolled up into one place. Women, men,
drugs and/or anything else you desire can be found inside. If you want it, you
can find it at Mocha Delights…for the right price.” Tony let out a deep sigh.
“It’s as close to heaven as you’re gonna find in this life.”

“I take it you’ve been there before.”

“Not in one year and ninety-two days.” Tony
thumped a bronze medallion hanging from his mirror.

DJ had seen the like before…a sobriety medallion.
It showed that Tony was a recovering addict. DJ spied the Roman numeral I in
the center with the Addiction Anonymous tag on the top while the motto of ‘one
day at a time’ filled the bottom. Without looking, DJ knew the serenity prayer
would be printed on the back.

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