Independence Day Plague (14 page)

“
I’m sorry.”

Macon coughed a little and looked at him with a shadow of the cockiness returning. “What you want comes cheap normally but, ghost-man, your situation's full of glitches. Like I said, you being connected to me is viral to my situation here. I got a good thing going on. I don't care for someone fucking it up for me.”

Mitchell nodded, “True but they think I’m history already. No one knows I survived.”

“
I’m supposed to believe this?”

“
Tell you what,” Mitchell brought out the four-gig micro-drive out of his pocket. “I want this broadcast on the Fourth of July. Don’t spread it yet. Just listen to it. Look at the data that’s attached. It’ll convince you that no one’s looking for me now.”

“
What about later, once your info's uploaded on the net?”

Mitchell smiled grimly, eyes sad with pain. “Then it won’t matter. They’ll find me and I’ll be erased too.”

Macon didn’t speak for a few minutes. He crossed the room back over to the tall back chair and sat down. “What about for payment: food cards, credit cards, negotiable items or bank wire?”

“
How about contraband currency, old bills in $100 denominations and less?”

Macon became very still, eyes turned glassy again. Finally he spoke, “LOL man. Greenbacks are pretty rare these days, usually worth more than the cover amount, quite anonymous and untraceable.” The nation’s legitimate companies had switched entirely to identity cards and credit cards for business. The world outside the law embraced and cherished the use of old fashion, contraband currency. “Sounds like we can deal.”

Mitchell pulled a crumpled bill out of his pocket and handed it over. “My inheritance from Geller. I’ll leave five fifties with you today in good faith and ten more when I get the pod phones. I know you’ll want to validate them.”

Macon fingered the greenback. “If they’re counterfeit, I’ll send all kinds of shit your way, ghost-man. The little Hitler upstairs will drop by for a visit. I hear he's real creative in his punishments.”

“
Don’t worry, they’re genuine.”

“
Just two food cards? So this isn’t a credit scam.”

Mitchell smiled, “No, even dead men have to eat.”

“
Why so many com-units? That’s a lot phone power.”

“
Let’s just say I just want to reach out and touch someone.”

Chapter 6

June 10, 2026

The day started out at a cool sixty-five degrees but the dew in the air was a promise of hot and muggy air by the afternoon. At seven thirty in the morning, the Red Line subway train already felt humid and stank of stale air and too many bodies pressed close together, as they closed the door at Cleveland Park and jerked forward again. Dorado hated the morning commute in from Rockville, Maryland, but knew he would loathe living in downtown DC even more. Despite tax breaks and incentive programs, most families fled the inner city for the sometimes wealthier and more peaceful suburb life. Many of the single corporate people often lived on the fringes in high tower condos whose bottom floors looked like a cross between upscale shopping mall and a fortress.

Dorado exited the subway at Gallery Place, which was his normal routine. Instead of changing station levels and boarding the Yellow Line for the short hop to L'Enfant Plaza, he walked out of the station next to the National Portrait Gallery. He wanted fresher air and a better tasting cup of coffee than what waited at the DC police station. As more of his days were spent in static meetings, Dorado increasingly took the long walk to work, relishing in the exercise. A cool breeze blew some leaves and paper trash around his feet as he started walking the six blocks towards the heart of the town.

Gallery Place, like the city itself, had seen better times. Homeless men and a few women cluttered in building nooks and near entrance points around the sports arena. He found himself streaming along with the dark suit corporate crowd as they weaved around and hustled by the jobless. Dorado stepped out of the main pathway and watched a few go by, security badges nestled around their necks on cloth lanyards and eyes covered by computer integrated sunglass-monitor systems called visio-coms. Most of them whispered as they walked, almost oblivious to the world around them as they blew by, briefcase in one hand, plastic coffee cup in another.

Two blocks along in his path, Dorado found an open shop that lacked the early morning waiting line spiraling out the door. As he entered, he surveyed the small coffee shop, taking in all the sights and smells as if it were a new crime scene. He had built that habit over years of police work and didn't feel the need to stop now. The ordering line was only six deep with three people working behind the counter, bumping and swerving around each other in the thin work area.

Most of the customers in line were corporate clone types clustered around the tables. Two twenty-something wireheads loitered around a small corner table in an obviously heated discussion drowned out by the rattle of bean grinding and the whooshing scream of the latte machine. The taller of the two men was skeletal skinny with metal bars and studs running up both ears, through lips, noses and eyebrows. Part of his face was obscured by long, thick black hair. Modified safety pins went through one cheek and the outline of nipple bars stood out against his spandex tank top. Pale multi-colored tattoos peaked out of the shirt around the chest and back.

His partner was fatter but similarly attired in steel. His shorter brown hair ended around the raw patch of shaved head where wires disappeared into skull circuitry. The red and blue wires curved around his ear and down his neck to disappear under the man's denim coat. Dorado noted the pull of a curved object against his pant leg and guessed the man wore a knife on his leg. The man moved in short thrusting motions and his fingers twitched around the coffee cup.

Both looked up, noticing Dorado's assessment before he turned away. The line moved forward a notch and he mused that addicts came in all types and specialties. He scanned the menu chalked up on the large overhead blackboard while more people filed in behind them.

"Excuse me, sir."

He looked down into the large brown eyes of a teenage girl. Dressed in conservative, sexless clothing, she beamed up at him with a vacuous smile. "Have you accepted the Lord into your life?" Her voice came out breathy as she clutched a bunch of white booklets to her chest.

"Thanks, but I'm just here for coffee." He nodded once then returned to scrutinizing the board.

She fell into him as another man pushed by to get out the door. Dorado rocked and stumbled with the girl against him. She righted herself blushing. "Thank you. You know the Lord can be your guide in life. The power of the Son is the greatest power on Earth. Would you like a booklet to read all about it?"

Dorado shook his head as he reached a hand into his inside jacket pocket. Instantly, a tall, muscled blond man with a blue "The Son can Rise For You Too!" t-shirt stepped beside them. "Julie, is this guy bothering you?" Jaw clenched, the guy puffed himself up to look Dorado in the eyes.

Dorado sighed. Complaints had come into the station about religious groups shaking down people for cash. The guy and girl team was an obvious con. The girl picked a likely victim to come on to in the name of religion. She approached people while he took offense. Then the poor sucker had to pay them to be left alone. "More likely the other way around, friend." He pulled out his badge wallet and flipped it open to show the shield. The girl's eyes went wide. "Why don't you and the lady move on to another shop."

Before the man could respond, the lights flickered and the grinding machine whirred down to a stop before the lights went out entirely. People murmured and began to jostle each other, heading for the door. A voice called aloud from behind the counter top. "Relax folks. It's just another rolling brownout. The power will come back on in a minute." Voices murmured in response.

"Third one this week."

"Suppose to happen all summer, I hear."

"Yo, man. Pay your electric bill next time!" Several chuckled.

The whir from silence to activity cut through the voices as the lights flickered and came back on. Long, high screaming cut through the air along with a loud banging noise. Everyone turned to the source in the corner. The brown haired wirehead had his buddy against the wall and repeatedly slammed his head into the wooden post. Blood splattered the wall and ran down the pierced man's face.

"Shit." Dorado pushed the girl out of the way while going for his gun. Moving at adrenaline-fed speed and power, the wirehead threw his friend into the woman at the next table. The bloody body hit the table and flew to the other side. Shrieking, he then grabbed the knife from his boot and repeatedly plunged it into the woman's male companion.

The crowd around the corner panicked and began fighting to get out the door. Gun freed, he tried to move forward only to be knocked away by the press of bodies. "Police!" he roared, "Step aside."

The wirehead moved into the crowd, slashing and clawing at those nearest him. His eyes where wide open with pinpoint pupils. His mouth twisted up into an ugly, wide-open snarl. Dorado brought his gun to bear, still fighting against the fleeing bodies. "Drop the weapon!"

The man's body began to shake and writhe as he screamed again. Dorado took aim at the chest and pulled the trigger but the shot went wide, hitting him in the bicep. The man began to whirl in spinning frenzy, knife plunging repeatedly around him.

Finally, the last of the people moved past and Dorado brought his gun up again as the blood-spattered maniac spun closer for striking, hand raised above his head. Dorado pulled the trigger three times, aiming straight into the kid's face. The wirehead jerked as the back of his head exploded out, raining blood and gray matter all over the floor and the injured customers.

Help in the form of uniformed officers and emergency medical people arrived within five minutes of Dorado's calling in the incident. McAfee arrived thirty minutes after that, along with Internal Affairs to investigate the shooting.

Dorado sat out of the crime area, sipping coffee from a plastic cup when McAfee walked up. "Hey chief, are you okay?

He nodded and took another sip of coffee. "Hell of a way to start the day."

McAfee grinned, "Got to get rid of that nasty caffeine habit."

Dorado chuckled dryly.

McAfee pulled a chair over and sat down. He gestured over to the carnage. "What happened?" Aside from the wirehead, four other people lay unmoving.

Dorado went to wipe his face but then saw the speckles of blood on his hands and put them back down again. "A wirehead sat over there next to the power box when the brown-out rolled through today. He was pretty twitchy before but the power surge must have fried his motherboard. He went postal and started slicing folks up."

"EMT's told me that eight got wounded. Has IA talked to you yet?"

"Yeah, I've given a statement but they know the score. The bastard wouldn't stand down. Didn't even slow down when I shot him in the arm." He sighed. "This is going to be our problem on the Fourth, Bri. If one damn wirehead short-circuits in that crowd, they'll take out dozens of people and cause a riot that will kill even more. I'm going to talk to the other Task Forces about finding a way to ban wireheads from being inside the fenced perimeter."

"Not constitutional. ACLU will have a fit."

Dorado nodded. "Yeah probably, but we got to do something. This is the fifth incident in two weeks. The power fluxes are frying their brains."

"May not be your problem after today." McAfee leaned back in the chair.

Dorado shot him an irritated look. "Why's that?"

"Cardell heard about the shooting on the radio. He came into this morning's meeting announcing that since you'll be on suspension pending this investigation, he's now the OIC of the task force."

"Son of a bitch! IA says they'll probably clear me by this afternoon as soon as they watch the coffee shop's security tape."

"Yeah, but don't worry too much amigo." McAfee grinned. "The entire task force quit and walked out the door after his big announcement. Starker will still back you as OIC."

Dorado snorted. "Yeah, good deeds never go unpunished."

"Come on, just a few more steps." Arnie held the door to the cheap hotel room open. The girl stumbled across the threshold, wandered over to the bed and fell sprawling on it. He grinned and shut the door. The room was clean but run down with peeling, outdated wallpaper.
The girl's so stoned, she'll think it's the Marriot
, he mused.

Cecilia's long blond-streaked hair lay across her tan skin. At twenty-three, she started working in the tissue culture lab four doors down from his room at the medical school. She caught his eye immediately. Only five foot, three and petite in build; she attracted a lot of interest from the other male students and workers in the area. However, Arnie wanted more from her. After spending time chatting in her lab now and then, he got a good idea of the wealth of equipment and chemicals her boss stocked and he needed. He knew stealing from one lab too often would be noticed. He liked to distribute his treasure hunts among many of the labs in the four-story building through either bribery or extortion of the lab's workers or simply getting spare keys. Getting Cecilia high gave him the ability to use her as a supply route, bedding her was just a delicious bonus.