Rebel (The United Federation Marine Corps) (8 page)

“It should be obvious,” Tamara, said.  “We have to nip this in the bud.  No freakin’ Marines are going to be allowed to run over us.  We’ve got our Highlander Samurai here, our Jeanne d’Arc.  She’s a marketing miracle, so use her.  Let’s push them back off Kakurega.”

Cheri listened to Tamara’s rant and seemed to consider it.  Michi could almost see Cheri’s thoughts war against each other across her face.

“Actually, that falls in line with what some of the WRP think, and certainly the NIP agrees with that.  We’ve been discussing it, to be honest.  The trick is to make it uncomfortable enough for them to leave, but not go over the line and invoke a severe retaliation,” Cheri said.  “Michi, I want you to tell me exactly what you did, every step along the way.  Don’t leave anything out.”  She looked at her watch.  “And it looks like you’ve got a guest tonight.  I won’t make curfew.”

For the next three hours, with Cheri being surprisingly thorough in her questioning, Michi and Tamara related everything they could remember.  Michi knew that Cheri was high up in the WRP, but she’d always been sort of a slightly eccentric aunt to her.  Only now, could Michi see the organized, driven leader Cheri really was.

“OK, I know that was tiring,” Cheri said as she had finally wrung all she could from the two roommates.  “The question is, what do we do next?”

“It’s obvious what we do next.  We jump a Marine,” Tamara declared.  “We don’t kill him, but we let them know that we aren’t going to meekly stand by and let the company throw the charter out the window.”

“You know, I think you’re right, and that surprises me.  I do think we need to make a statement,” Cheri said.  “Do you think you can do it?”

“No problem,” Michi said, determination in her voice.

“A couple of things different, though.  No more cozies for camouflage.  I’m going to send someone over, someone I trust.  He’ll have something a little better for you.  And I want backup.  No two lone rangers out there.  Let me work some things out, and do not, I repeat do not, attempt anything until I get back to you.  Agreed?”

“You can count on the Highlander Samurai and the Tattooed Avenger,” Tamara said in an excited voice.

“This isn’t fun and games, Tammy,” Cheri said.  “This is serious shit, so no grandstanding.  Am I clear?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Cheri turned to Michi and asked in the same serious tone, “Am I clear, Michiko MacCailín, blood of the First Families.”

Cheri, not being First Family herself, didn’t have the power to invoke a First Family honor-binding, but Michi didn’t care.  She didn’t need to be honor-bound to tell the truth.

“If you will give me the means to get revenge, then I am your woman.  I will do as you say.”

Chapter 16

“Oh, that’s pure dead belter,”
[11]
Michiko said as she stared in the mirror, looking at the stranger’s face staring back at her. 

The “stranger” had red hair and a pale, round face sprinkled with freckles across the nose.  Her body was essentially Michi’s, but the face was that of a 15
th
Century Scottish lass, not the darker First Family countenance that Michi had grown used to over her 19 years.  She reached up with a hand and touched the round, pug nose she saw, but felt her own smaller, familiar nose.

“OK, OK, I mean, this can’t be penetrated by anything in the electromagnetic spectrum, I promise you that,” Doug Taggart said excitedly.  “It can be jammed, of course, but that would take a directed beam transmitter, not the surveillance equipment we have here on Kakurega.”

“My turn, Michi.  I want to see who I’m going to be,” Tamara said. 

Tamara pushed Michi away from the mirror, took a breath, then turned on the facial recognition spoofer attached to her collar.  Michi thought it was freaky to see Tamara’s short brown locks and round face immediately switch to an exotic, dark-skinned stranger with close-cropped corn-rowed hair.  Both girls had put on T’s for the test, and the top of Tamara’s jungle-scene tattoo disappeared, slightly coming back as her skin color faded lower into her chest.  From under her bikini panties, her normal tattooed palette ran down her legs to her pale ankles and feet.

Michi stepped to stand beside her, both taking in the sight of two strangers looking back at them.

“Dougie, my boy, you done good,” Tamara said, awestruck for once.

“This is a pretty new development,” Doug started.  “It was started as an application for psychoanalysis, of all things, but progression with TET-cells made miniaturization and more refined refractory lanes—”

Tamara cut him off.  “Slow down there, boy.  I don’t really care how it works, just that it does,” she said, before turning to the redhead Michi.  “Think of it, Michi, we can set our look in the recipe, then just turn it on in the morning.  No make-up, just instant glamorous me.”

“Well, I guess that would be possible,” Doug started.  “Let’s see, if we . . .”

Michi looked at her black roommate in the mirror, and both of them broke out laughing as Doug went on.  They had met Doug only two hours before.  If Hollywood had cast a resident geek, this is who they would have come up with.  Doug was earnest, gangly, and overwhelmingly devoted to technology.  He was like a puppy, eager to please.  He had almost started stammering when the two roommates had stripped to T’s and panties, but once he had attached the small spoofing units, he had forgotten the fact that the girls were only half-dressed as he became engrossed in his toys.

Doug worked for the company, probably as they were the only ones on Kakurega with a big enough lab to interest him.  Somehow, though, Cheri had recruited him.  Michi wished she knew how Cheri had done that.  Doug didn’t seem like the political sort.  But he had come through.  If the face-spoofers, for lack of a better term, could spoof the surveillance cams as well as they fooled the eyes, then no more pulled up cozies.  This was brills.  

They had met at a local shawarma stand, and before anything was said, Doug had handed Tamara an envelope.  There was no subterfuge, no attempt at a covert hand-off.  He just said hi and passed the envelope.

The handwritten note told the two roommates that no one else at WRP knew about “anything,” and that Doug’s presence was also a secret, known only to Cheri.  Once they had finished reading, Doug opened his mouth to speak when Tamara hushed him. Evidently, Doug was not a fan of spy flicks.  Neither woman was anything close to a real spy, but both knew you just didn’t openly discuss potential illegal actions at a café table on a public street.

They finished their shawarmas, then walked back to their condo, Tamara’s arm in Doug’s as if he were her boyfriend with Michi trailing behind.  Even in a make-believe world, Michi was a third wheel, she thought to herself ruefully.

Once back in the condo, Michi found herself liking the eccentric young man.  Actually, he was some seven years older than her, but something about him spoke little brother, rather than big. 

Eccentric geek or not, his little toys, which he had modified to be portable and with a two-hour battery life, were invaluable.  They would make it that much easier for Michi to strike back at the Marines, and through them, the Federation. 

Chapter 17

It was an unseasonably warm evening, and Michi and Tamara strolled through some of the small cafes around the Riverwalk.  They had contemplated going back to the Gut, but with their face-spoofers, they decided they didn’t need to search the Gut’s warrens for a victim. 

Michi kept glancing at Tamara, trying to get used to her roommate’s appearance.  The face-spoofer only changed the area around the head (although Doug kept insisting he would get that range extended), so Tamara could not show as much skin as she might have wanted, but in her zebra-striped unitard, she combined the exotic look of old Africa with the lithe body of a sprite or elf.  Tamara had insisted that Michi was quite a looker as well, but perhaps conditioned by her time in the dance studio, she felt big and ungainly alongside her smaller friend. 

She consciously worked to sway her hips as they walked, trying to give the picture of two young girls out for some fun.  So far, the two had received a few interested glances, but from locals.  No Marines were out and about, despite Cheri telling them that this was one area where a few Marines had been spotted while off-duty.

The day before, Michi had seen her first Marines.  Four of them had marched down Harrison in their combat suits, two-and-a-half meter tall monstrosities that moved with surprising grace.  That sobered Michi; there was no way she could do anything to one of them.  She just hoped the information she had been given was accurate.  She could deal with a Marine who had snuck out for a drink or two.  From what she had heard, it wasn’t as if the Marines in the city were restricted to the stadium where they had set up a base camp.  The newsfeeds had shown them playing with the kids at the company-run orphanage and playing basketball against the Lipper University team. Generally, though, the Marines seemed to stick to the stadium when not on duty.

Michi wiggled her shoulders, trying to loosen up.  She had to be ready when the opportunity presented itself.  She had to remember that they were the enemy.

“You look like you’re pissed off,” Tamara whispered to her.  “Smile, at least.  Act like you’re having fun.”

Michi tried to take off her war face and smile.  She probably had been scowling.

“Not much better, there.  Now it looks like you’ve got constipation.”

Michi broke out into a laugh.  Tamara had her way about her.

“Ah, there you go.  Now keep it up if we’re going to catch us a Marine.”

Two middle-aged men walked up to them, and Tamara flirted with them for a few minutes before promising to meet up with them later at the Belly Up, a well-known music venue.

“Done wasting time?” Michi grumbled.

“If we’re supposed to look like we are out on the town, we can’t very well ignore everyone, right?  ’Sides, the Belly Up?  Knossis is playing there tonight, and they suck.  You wouldn’t catch me dead listening to that crap.”

They slowly wandered through the small streets and alleys, stopping for coffee or tea.  They needed to keep alert, so no alcohol.  The coffee was getting to Michi, though, and she had to pee when she spotted a man sitting alone at an outside table, a burger and a stein of beer in front of him.  Something about him was different, and he just didn’t fit in.  It might have been the clothes:  they were decidedly out-of-date, and even if Michi was not a fashion zombie, she knew you didn’t wear socks and sandals with champs.  It might have been the close-cropped hair.  More than those, though, Michi thought it was the air about him.  He was only eating and drinking a beer, but he had a look of utmost confidence.

After a few minor clashes when they first arrived, ones in which no Marines were reportedly hurt, things had been fairly quiet.  Curfew had even been pushed back to 10:00 PM.  But still, this was “enemy territory” to the Marines, and Michi would have imagined that anyone sneaking off for a beer would be more obviously alert.  Seeing this man, though, changed Michi’s opinion.  He just seemed too confident, as if no one could offer him a credible threat.

Michi was convinced he was a Marine, and his arrogant attitude angered her.  She felt her fight come on.   The Marine looked tough, true, but Michi was confident of her abilities.  With the element of surprise, she didn’t think anyone, no matter how strong, could stand up to her roundhouse. 

“Over there, sitting at the third table, I think that’s our man,” she whispered to Tamara.

Tamara didn’t stare, but let her gaze cross over him.  “Could be, I guess.  What say we grab a table and see.”

They wandered over, and took a seat.  “Order me an ale,” she told Tamara.  “I’ve got to pee.”

Tamara looked surprised, but the man still had half of his burger left, and if he was a Marine and their target for the night, Michi didn’t want to fight with a full bladder.

There was a drink waiting for her when she got back.  She brought it to her mouth and acted like she was taking a sip.  They were sitting two tables from the man, but he was more interested in his meal than in them.  He was dipping his fries in what looked to be mayo, then putting each one into his mouth, sucking off the mayo, then popping the fry into his mouth as well.

“That’s pretty disgusting,” Tamara whispered as she lifted her own glass. 

Unless she was dumping some on the ground, it looked like she had taken a few swallows of her beer.  Well, it wasn’t as if she was going to be doing any fighting, so maybe it was OK.

Michi picked up her PA and dialed Doug.  Doug was their “back-up,” as Cheri had made them promise to have.  Michi wasn’t sure how much good having Doug around was, but with Cheri’s fear that there was a spy in the WRP, neither Michi nor Tamara wanted to bring anyone else in on their plan.

“Hey, Danielle.  We’re at Yancy’s Café, over on Calamus Two,” she told Doug over the PA.

“I’m on Calamus Four, so let me move over.  Do you have someone?” Doug asked.

“Maybe, but don’t you worry.  We’ll let you know if we leave here,” Michi said before cutting the connection. 

“Duty done,” she whispered to Tamara, bringing up the glass to cover her mouth.

“Ah, yes, Danielle is such a sweetie,” Tamara said with a laugh. 

The laugh sounded a little forced, so Michi knew Tamara was getting amped.  The girl had a mean streak in her, and Michi was glad they were friends.  She didn’t think Tamara would make a good enemy. 

As the man finished his burger, he asked for his check, his off-world accent clearly reaching them.

“Bingo!” Tamara said. 

Whether he heard her or not, he looked up, catching her eye.  Tamara smiled and lifted her glass up in a toast.  The man nodded and lifted his up in return before breaking the contact.

“I already paid,” Tamara told her.  “When he leaves, let’s follow him. If he starts to head towards the stadium, then he’s our man.”

The man sat at the table for another 20 minutes, seemingly happy to just relax while Michi got more and more tense.  She was ready, and she wanted to get at it.  When the man finally got up, Tamara had to put out a restraining arm to keep Michi from immediately jumping up to follow.

The man started to walk deeper down Calamus Two, which was a good sign.  The stadium was only five hundred meters or so through the winding small roads that made up this restaurant district.  At the point where the river bent around, there was a footbridge, and over that was the more open plaza where the stadium, museum, and opera house stood.  If they were going to jump him, it had to be before he got to the bridge.

The two roommates trailed the man, and when he stopped to ask directions on how to get out of the district, that cemented it.  This was their target.  They were getting close to the outer river walk and the bridge, so they had to move.

They picked up their pace.  They were still 10 meters in back of the man as he came within sight of the Riverwalk.

“Hey!” Tamara called out.

The man,
the Marine
, turned around.  “I was wondering when you two were going to say something,” he said in his off-world accent.

“What do you mean?” Tamara asked, using the time to close the distance.

“Well, you’ve been following me since the café.”

“Well, did you have to make it that difficult for a girl, then?” she asked, reaching out to take one of his hands in hers.

“Difficult is all relative, don’t you think?  Anyway, I’m afraid that as much as I find the both of you fine specimens of Kauregan womanhood, whatever you had planned won’t come to fruition.”

Specimens”
Michi thought as she maneuvered in back of the man, just off his right shoulder. 
I’ll show him “specimens.”

The man gently disengaged his hand from Tamara’s as she started to protest.  He cut her off.  “Look, I’m trying to be polite, but whether you’re looking for some fun or you’ve got some scam going, it isn’t happening tonight.  So why don’t you two—
”

Whatever he was going to say was lost as Michi’s roundhouse kick connected solidly on the side of his head.  Michi could feel the force jolt up her leg, and she reveled in the power of it.

Only, the Marine didn’t go down.  He staggered a step into Tamara, then spun around. 

This time, Michi was not going to be caught just looking.  She was surprised he was not down yet, but she launched into a back kick.  The Marine whipped up his arm and deflected it, knocking Michi off balance.

“So that’s your game, girlies.  Not a smart move.  I don’t have many credits on me, so even if you could get them, I don’t think it would be worth the effort, so what say you two just turn around and find someone else to rob.”

The way he just stood there, not even protecting himself, infuriated Michi, and she suddenly spun into a spinning back fist, anxious to smash his smug face.  Only his face wasn’t there as she came around.  His right fist was, however, swinging into a short uppercut to Michi’s chin, stunning her.  She went to one knee, fighting to get back up. 

The Marine wasn’t following through.  He stood there, looking down at her with a look of, could it be pity? 

“No one pities me!” she screamed as she struggled to her feet.

The Marine suddenly sprouted an extra pair of arms, it seemed to Michi’s still-fuzzy mind.  It took her a moment to realize that Tamara had launched herself into the fray, and just as quickly, the Marine had thrown her off to crumble into a heap against the wall of the building beside them.

“Have you had enough?” the Marine asked her.

With a wordless shout, Michi rushed the man, wanting to tear him apart.  Forget about Cheri telling them that this was to be a simple mugging—she was going to kill him.

His resigned look and the big fist coming at her face were the last things Michi remembered.