>From: ion@ocf.berkeley.edu (Iain Shigeoka)
Subject: JUSTICE: CHP3, PART 1
Date: 27 Jan 92 03:43:55 GMT


	Yes, I'm back (please, don't shoot), and I'm ready to start
writing again...NOT!  but I did anyhow.  This here is the third
chapter in JUSTICE.  It was kinda long so I broke it up into two
parts for convenience.  If anyone remembers what's gone on so far my
remark to you after you start reading and your eyebrows lift in
puzzlement is, "Yes, this is part of the story and yes it definitely
ties very tightly into the mainstory line of Crash and Medea and
the Raven."  It starts out fragmented but soon it will meld...

	enjoy...

	Ah yes, one final note.  Please press the little 'r' button
and say hi after reading this.  If for no other purpose then roll
call. Any criticisms and comments would be appreciated.  thanx

*********************************************************************
Summary:  Chapter One: Raven tells of the AI he created, which has
		killed his grandson, Jonny G.  He is now bent on
		destroying his creation.
	  Chapter Two: Crash is "hired" to hold a package.  The
		package is an abused and catatonic woman. Crash does
		his best to cure her.  Crash loses then finds her
		cured of her catatonic state.  Two unexplained bodies
		lay beside her.
*********************************************************************

			    JUSTICE
			by Iain Shigeoka


CHAPTER THREE,  Part 1


	Thom shrugged his shoulders to seat his battle armour more
comfortably on his body.  The armour was a bulky affair that covered
his entire body, toe to neck, in high tech composites.  His particular
suit was jungle-green and had small servo motors built into the armour
to help Thom move quicker.  In a fire fight the armour saved more lives
than he was prepared to admit but out of battle they were hell.  It
was so heavy and bulky that it took help from another to put it on.
That was the reason he was wearing his now, even though it felt like
he was in one of those antique hot-ovens.  He would have no help
until he got back to his command.  If those stupid techno-freaks back
in R and D ever got their heads out and tried wearing their newtech
suits out in the tropics he was sure they'd take his suggestions to
heart.  Just a couple of holes for ventilation would make a world of
difference.  Thom swished his toes around in the small pool of sweat
collecting in his boots as he waited and sweated.
	There were disadvantages to being 2.2 meters tall and
muscular, many of which were being made painfully clear as Thom
hunched at the rear of the APC he'd ridden in for an hour.  The ride
was almost over.  He ran his gloved hand over his light brown hair
shorn in a standard crew-cut style.  A small red light over the
rear hatch blinked from red to green.  Thom grabbed his helmet from
a rack which held many similar ones and pulled it on.  Tinny clicks
notified him that the helmet had securely locked into the suit neck.
	"How's the action out there?"  Thom asked into the helmet's
comm unit.
	"Nothing as far as I can see.  Coming up on your drop...
READY!?"  That was the second time Thom had heard from the driver
of the APC in the entire trip.  Some people took the tough and silent
act too far.
	The rear hatch dropped open and the APC slammed to a sudden
stop.  The heat and bright afternoon sun invaded the dark confines
of the APC.  Thom jumped out and jogged toward the temporary HQ buried
under hundreds of sandbags.  A gun position sat a few meters off to
the right of the HQ and a small missile position was to the left.
Both positions faced out toward the Brazilian jungle.  Green, green
green.  Even the sandbags had grown a coating of green moss blending
it into the jungle cover.  They were on a small rise facing a valley
half a kilometer below them that stretched three or four kilometers
out before turning into a mountain range.
	The APC Thom had just jumped clear of, was turning around
and heading back towards the main base and airstrip where it had picked
up Thom.  Thom was almost to the HQ, scanning the valley in front of
of his position, when he saw a small white puff of smoke appear on the
side of the moutain opposite of their position.  An arrow of white
smoke slashed towards Thom.
	"Incoming!" he screamed as he dove down.  The gun position
came alive as the minigun opened up.  Tracer rounds arced gracefully
towards the approaching missile.  Too late.  The missle slammed into
the APC behind Thom.  Shrapnel, smoke and flames filled the air.
	"Mark and firing." Jonson's voice came over the comm.  Jonson
should be in the missile position.
	"No wait!" Thom yelled.  As if to confirm Thom's guess, the
familiar scream of surface to surface missiles cut off his command.
"Goddamn it Jonson!  We hadn't been compromised yet.  Alright, we fight.
Jonson blow your position and power up.  Macky, lay down a suppressive
fire but be ready to haul ass on my command.  Kramer power up and
get my pack ready.  B-boy get Smiley on the horn.  Tell him it's gone
to hell and we could use his help, then powerup and prep the HQ."
	"Cap'n I thought..." Jonson sounded scared.  Good.  Jonson
had given away his position with his return fire.  Enemy fire zipped
around the rise centered mainly around Jonson's position.  Thom
gritted his teeth in anticipation of an enemy missile slamming into
Jonson's position.
	"Shut up.  Save the comm for battle commands."  Thom snapped
as he started sprinting over to the HQ.  Smoke from the destroyed APC
mixed with the back blast from Jonson's missile volley obscuring the
entire rise in smoke.  The familiar scream of a minigun sounded to
Thom's right.  The enemy they'd been defending the valley from had
finally found them.  The APC's heat signature must have been seen.
The question of how they'd picked up the sheilded engine of the
APC from the baking jungle was academic.  Looks like this job would
finally be over, one way or the other.
	Dirt began to fountain up all around Thom.  The enemy,
targeting the smoke from Jonson's missile launch, was saturating the
area with their supressive fire.  He had five meters to the HQ.
	A small alarm went off in Thom's helmet.  It signaled the
activation of small but extremely powerful magnetic defenses embedded
into the suit.  The suit successfully diverted three rounds from
striking him, but a fourth must have been smack in the center of every-
thing.  The suit was designed to divert incoming metal with timed
magnetic pulses.  The magnets managed to slow the round down a bit just
before it slammed into Thom's shoulder, sending him spinning up and back.
	Thom landed hard on his head and shoulder.  *Hey, a three point
landing* Thom thought as his knees came crashing to the ground and he
found himself staring at the ground.  He was just getting used to the
unique head-and-two-knees-on-the-ground resting position when another
explosion off to his left rocked the rise.  The shock wave flipped Thom
over onto his side.  He shook his head.  Jonson's position.
	"Jonson!" Thom yelled, struggling to get to his feet.
	"With Macky sir.  My position is destroyed and we're both powered
up and awaiting your word."  Jonson's transmission threatened to breakup.
	*Damn* thought Thom *and this was a brand new helmet*  The new
magnetic defenses in the powered armour interfered with transmission and
played havoc with cyberware.  Thom hated to admit it but his merc company
had not been the first choice for this assignment.  They'd been selected
only because they could front a platoon of combat vets who had minimal
cybernetics and who accepted the removal of what little they had.  The
helmet comms were specially designed to operate around the magnets.  It
was damn inconvenient compared to throat mikes and dental implants.
	"B-boy here Cap'n.  Smiley will meet us ... the alter...
...ouping site.  What ..ell's taking you so long... etting slow in yer
old age, eh?"
	"Shut up B..."  Thom was rudely interupted by another explosion
off to his left.  "Incoming!"
	Thom heard the missile coming this time.  It's scream was heading
straight for him.  Thom started to drop prone as the missile sang past
and struck the ground behind him.  The flash of the explosion blacked
the light filters in his helmet's face sheild, then the shock wave picked
him up and tossed him forward.
	The magnetic defense warning in his suit buzzed constantly.
Shrapnel and the continuous rain of enemy fire kept it in overdrive.
	Rough hands suddenly grabbed Thom and lifted him off the ground.
In a short while Thom was set down on the ground.  He still could only
see darkness and thought the filters on his face sheild had broken then
a beam of light appeared.  They must have carried him into the HQ.
B-boy's face came into view.  B-boy was suited up identically to Thom
and his familiar features were still visible through his helmet's face
sheild.  Bushy eyebrows, cut in patterns B-boy swore brought good luck,
shadowed steel grey eyes.  His nose, which always reminded Thom of a
bird of prey, had started bleeding and coated the bottom of his face
sheild, obscuring the rest of his face.
	"You alright Cap'n?" B-boy yelled above the noise of the minigun
and enemy missiles.  Outside he could hear the enemy walking their fire
across the rise hoping to find his men.  B-boy was clutching Thom's
breastplate and looked like he was about to break into tears... or a rage.
Behind himself, Thom could feel someone shifting the assault rifle clipped
to his back to a side clip and fitting his heavy power pack onto his back.
	"Ungh.  What's goin...uh...where?"  Thom said, trying to orient
himself.  Suddenly B-boy released Thom and clutched his head.  B-boy
bent over in pain then just as suddenly stood up.
	"Bastards.  You bastards are mine!"  B-boy screamed as he turned
towards the grey square of light which must be the HQ's smoke hidden
entrance.  As B-boy's form obscured the doorway, B-boy paused to unclip
his own assault rifle from his back then he was away in a wash of smoke
from his power pack.
	"What?  B-boy what the hell are you doing?  B-boy get back
here."  Thom yelled.  B-boy disappeared outside into the smoke.
	"I'll get him sir" Kramer scrambled up to his feet from behind
Thom where he'd been helping Thom into his power pack.
 	The comm line crackled.  Kramer was shouting, "B-boy get your
butt ...ere."
	"Aaaaaiiiiieee.....mine, you're....."
	"Shi...ir.  Cap'n?  B-boy's gone...cidal.  He's going hea...aight
into the enem...."
	"What?  Repeat your last message.  Repeat, Goddamnit!" Thom
yelled as he wobbled to his feet and stumbled out of the HQ and into the
smoke covered rise.  The smoke smelled bad even through his helmet's air
filters.  The APC's burning fuel added a strange twist to the smell of
burning marijuana and poppy plants.  *Some corp. suit will have to
satisfy his taste for old fashion organic drugs, some other way*  Thom
thought as he was looking for his men.  He breathed in deeply hoping to
get a small boost but his helmet's filters screened all the good stuff
out leaving Thom to cough on the smell.   Macky, Kramer, and Jonson were
all working around the minigun, B-boy was missing.
	"Macky blow your position and everyone regroup around me." Thom
ordered as he headed off down towards the valley floor.
	"We can't give...the minigun." Jonson whined.  Thom rolled his
eyes in exasperation at the rookie's complaint.
	"By now they've got the thing targeted from your outgoing rounds.
Now Get MOVING! before I blow your..." Thom's words ceased.  As he was
moving down towards the valley floor and more cover he'd spotted a small
green suit slash through a small clearing in the jungle canopy.  It was
B-boy, more than half way to the enemy camp, alone.  He was using his
power pack to jet across the jungle floor like a human missile.  *Damn
fool's gonna get killed by a tree* Thom thought angrily.
	"B-boy what the hell are you doing?" Thom yelled.
	"...mine, and I'm gonna...stand...touch this...and then..."
B-boy ranted on the comm line.
	Another explosion rocked the rise and Thom looked back to see
what had been hit.  It was the minigun.  Three armoured suits suddenly
came crashing through the underbrush to join Thom.
	"Don't know whe...the demolitions or an enemy missle...either...
destroyed Cap'n."  Macky said as he came to a stop beside Thom.
	"My comm's damaged.  Keep your banter concise and repeat critical
messages.  Got it?"  Thom informed his group, praying his helmet's comm
would hold together.
	Three affirmatives were interrupted by B-boy's shouting, "Cap'n
I...them and now they...unning!  Yeeee haaa...er butts down here if...
ant to keep this...astards confused and..."
	"Follow" Thom said as he turned towards the valley floor and
started running.  His power pack was a small jet like device which was
cybernetically attached to Thom's central nervous system.  He could feel
the pack humming as he felt his leg's tensing for a jump.  In the same
way his arm swings matched his running, so too did the jet pack fire
in rhythm with his stride.  Soon his strides turned into small leaps.
The leaps extended into longer and longer flights until soon he was
skimming along the jungle floor one to two meters above the ground.  The
pace was a little fast to be cruising around trees but the erratic and
quick flight would help evade enemy fire.  The packs weren't heat sheilded
well and they were easy targets when they moved any slower.
	Thom remebered B-boy complain about how goofy they looked hopping
around when they first got the packs.  B-boy called the power conservative
take off `duck mode' because it reminded him of how ducks flew.  B-boy
liked to fully power off the ground wasting all his pack's energy in
spectacular vertical leaps.  B-boy was still just like a kid, and Thom
treated him like the little brother he never had.  *Damn it, B-boy you'd
better not get yourself killed* Thom thought as he slalomed through the
trees *you're the only person left I can trust.*
	Cap'n?" Thom's thoughts were interrupted by B-boy's voice over
the comm, "Cap'n, I'm gonna need.... some time soon. I can't keep....
and I think I found....back to the..."
	"Goddamn it B-boy.  Break off and regroup with me." Thom was
yelling over the roar of his power pack both to be heard and because he
was getting pissed.  "B-boy answer me!"
	"Can't Cap'n.  If I don't crash through now...."  A sudden
flash of memory swept across Thom's consciousness.  High walls loomed
around him then he heard a loud sound like jaws snapping shut.  Yes, it
sounded like teeth snapping together then a louder slamming sound
followed in turn by an explosion.  The vision came and when so fast Thom
almost lost it to limbo then he grasped it and locked it into his memory.
Maybe the filters hadn't screened out all the drugs in the smoke back up
on the rise.
	"Just hold on!  I'm almost at the enemy's position."  Thom was
almost pleading as he unclipped his assault rifle and readied for action.
He could hear small arms fire then a loud power pack discharge that went
on for too long then cut off as Thom arrived at the position that Jonson
had fired his missiles at.  If they got out of this alive he was gonna
kill B-boy.  "Where are you in relation to the camp.  B-boy you still
with me?"
	"I dropped .... path, duh.  Come on Cap'n it....stupid drill.
Sheesh!"  B-boy sounded jumpy and tense.  He must have listened for once
and waited where he was.
	"What!?" Thom turned to his men who had already headed off down
a small game trail.  His comm didn't sound like it was going to make
it through.  Thom constantly expected it to cut out at any time.
	"Beacon buttons." Kramer answered understanding his superior's
confusion.  B-boy had dropped beacon buttons down on the correct path
or what was left of the path amongst the craters and smoking ruins of
trees care of Jonson's missiles.  Thom switched his helmet to scan for
B-boy's beacons.  They showed up immediately at ten meter intervals
just like he'd been training his men to do.  Practice paid.  Thom
remebered B-boy asking why they were rented all this expensive newtech
and big guns just to watch over some guy's marijuana garden in the
middle of a corp hunting preserve.  It didn't make sense then and it
still didn't now but it sure was helping.  The real question now was
why someone would pay for all the hardware and help to attack a
marijuana field.  So far all the enemy had managed to do was burn
the stuff anyhow.  Authentic soil grown marijuana and opium was
expensive and guns were getting cheaper everyday but it just didn't
balance out in the big picture.
	"Sir you'd better get over here."  Jonson sounded shakey.  He
caught up with his men.  Thom lifted his face sheild and stood stupid
with his mouth open for long seconds.
	In front of Thom was a huge rock face perhaps ten meters high.
It was the landmark he'd been using to seperate the valley from the
beginning of the small mountain range.  Low on the face the enemy had
carved a small entrance to who knows what.  The small area in front
of the entrance must have been where some of the enemy had tried
to execute a holding action.  Two bodies lay on the ground.  Bullet
holes marred the vegetation and ground all around the area.  The rock
face was chipped and scored as if some insane woodpecker had heard prey
inside the rock and had tried to knock it's way in.  The entrance to
the rock was blocked mostly by a thick metalic door.  The fake rock
camouflage covering it was chipped off in huge gouts by weapons fire.
The rest of the entrance was blocked by B-boy and his green armour.
He'd tried to slip past as the door came crashing closed... and he'd
almost made it, almost.
	B-boy chuckled nervously from his unusual position hanging
upside down, "Guess I should have listened to ya huh Cap'n?"
	"How the hell did you get upside down?"  Thom asked as he
approached.  B-boy was hanging upside down by his powerpack which had
taken most of the force of the door and was now quite smashed.  B-boy
had also managed to get his helmeted head stuck in the doorway and he
looked like he was trying to bend over backwards and touch his head to
his butt.
	"I was jetting for the hole like Superman," B-boy started to
explain, "when the door came for me.  I tried to stop by grabbing the
ground.  I started flipping over then I slammed into the closing door
which crushed my pack and hung up my helmet.  If I..."  B-boy's story
was interrupted when the door quivered slightly.  A small scrunching
sound could be heard as paint and metal chips started popping off of
the outside of his helmet.  Thom's growing grin at B-boy's ridiculous
position faded then changed into a look of worry.  He quickly reached
around B-boy's neck and unclipped the emergency release catch for his
helmet.  The suit and B-boy's unflexible body tried to return to a
normal posture smashing B-boy's face against his helmet's face plate
and twisting his throat into a strange S-curve.
	"Get ammph rrghph!" B-boy started to squirm.  His helmet had
started to bow inwards.  Thom grabbed B-boy's suit collar and pulled
while he stood on B-boy's collapsing helmet's face sheild.  The face
sheild started grinding open and Thom had pulled most of B-boy's face
(which meant all of his nose) out of the helmet when two things happened
nearly simultaneously.  Thom hit the helmet's jaw release which allowed
the part of the helmet which protected the jaw and mouth to pop loose.
This weakened the helmet considerably, the facesheild exploded
and the helmet crushed.  Luckily B-boy's head had gotten most of the
way out of the helmet and the rest of his head squirted out of the
helmet with just a little scrape along the left side of his skull.
	B-boy's power pack didn't crush completely and there was still
five centimeters inside of B-boy's helmet which probably saved his neck
from being pinched off by the bottom of the helmet.  B-boy was shaking
violently, cursing and crying.  Pieces of the shattering face sheild had
cut B-boy across his brow and along his hair line.  Thom squeezed his
gloved hand between B-boy's main body armour and the wall.  He struggled
for a minute to find the power pack release then he hit it.  B-boy came
crashing down.
	A high pitched whine came from higher up on the moutain side.
On the edge of the rock face, carefully concealed, a thin road emerged
from the rock.  No one would have noticed it had it not been for five
motorcycle riders wearing half-armour racing away on it.  Jonson, Macky,
and Kramer's rifles chattered as they sent a few rounds after the
motorcycles.
	"That's them!" B-boy shouted scrambling on hands and knees
towards the rock face as if he thought he was going to climb it and
run after them.  Thom put a hand on B-boy to stop him.
	"We wait for Smiley."
	"But that's them."

	Thom bandaged B-boy up.  They waited for Smiley and their
chopper next to the enemy's rock hideout which had started to burn
half a minute after they'd abandoned it.

	Ten minutes passed before Smiley, piloting the groups' heli-
copter, crested the ridge of the mountains and came into broadcast
range.  Luckily, Smiley had noticed the fleeing motorcyclists since
they were evidently still driving like bats out of hell.  Inside the
chopper no one spoke, there was still work to be done.

**********************************************************************
Not wanting to be greedy, I still find myself repulsed at the idea
of people other than myself financially benefiting from this story.
Reproduction and reposting for non-profit stuff is ok, but let me
know by email (ion@ocf.berkeley.edu).  I hope you enjoyed it!


From: ion@ocf.berkeley.edu (Iain Shigeoka)
Subject: JUSTICE: CHP 3, PART 2
Date: 27 Jan 92 03:45:09 GMT


			     JUSTICE
			by Iain Shigeoka


CHAPTER 3, part 2


	RedZone was a result of the strains of technology.  Thirty
years ago the land under RedZone had been home to a thriving jungle.
Now it held close to 7 million people.  A Resort Exec. stopover spot,
RedZone served as a routing center for high tech personell.  It
attracted the slick hightech bandits who were too messy or too
ambitious to be a success in established markets.  Japan, the USA
and Europe saw the professional brutalism of corp controled markets.
RedZone was constantly spasming in a glut of the eager, the hopeful,
and the greedy.  When a person was transferred to work at their corp's
RedZone branch office, they knew it meant one of two things:  the
corp either wanted to give them a BIG promotion, or they wanted to
kill them.  Either way RedZone was one of the best human testing
grounds on the planet.
	This is where the motorcycles had been heading.  Smiley
had been following the road into RedZone since passing the point
where he'd last seen them.  On the last turn coming out of the
mountains they spotted the motorcycles.  The chopper tilted as if
to spill forward in an attempt to squeeze every ounce of speed out
of it's rotors.  It was obvious they wouldn't get to the motorcycles
before the cycles had reached the first of RedZone's skyscrapers.
Smiley turned to Thom, waiting for instructions.
	"Get them," B-boy shouted coming alive when he noticed
Smiley slowing down, "you can't let them get away!"  Smiley just
sat staring at Thom.  B-boy turned to Thom desperately questioning
him with his eyes.
	"Alright, follow as close as possible.  No missiles and
fire only when it's completely clear.  Remeber there are PEOPLE
down there."  Thom decided.  Everyone in the chopper knew what
Thom meant when he said PEOPLE.  Corp suits, and their families
might be driving around down there.  RedZone wasn't geographically
big enough to really have well defined areas of rich and poor.
RedZone had a disporportionately high percentage of money-and-power
people within it's limits.  He'd better check this with their
employer.  "Smiley, patch me into the boss."
	Smiley didn't bother to turn back to a forward facing.
He simply shut his eyes still turned towards the back of the chopper.
Thom hated when Smiley did that.  Logically he knew the cybernetic
link Smiley had with the chopper let Smiley "see" where he was going
better than human eyes, yet he still wished Smiley would just turn
around and at least appear to be paying attention to flying.  As
Thom nervously peered forward, he noticed that the stupid motorcycles
were headed right into the business sector.  What the hell was
going on?
	"Connected Cap'n." Smiley said finally opening his eyes.
"Uh, there's a pull down terminal right over your head."  He added
recalling Thom had been stripped of jacks and his one dedicated
neural link was jacked to his powered armour.
	Thom reached up and pulled down the small LCD monitor slotted
into the chopper's ceiling.  He hit the "video send" toggle to off
then activated the line.  The standby signal blanked the screen then
PHEONIX PHARMACUTICALS LTD filled the picture.  The picture skewed
left momentarily then a man in his early thirties appeared at
a large desk.  The boss.  He was a typical suit, a little too
aggressive for most.  His aggressive style was evident in his rakish
hair cut with pre-mature greying on the sides.  If you'd have knocked
him out and laid him next to a half dozen other suits, Thom probably
wouldn't recognize him because physically he was no different from
any other suit.  He dressed like all the others right down to the
grey suit and red power tie.  It was his movements, postures and
general attitude which defined him as quite unique from the rest.
	"Sir, this is Grey Company assignment num...." Thom began
but was interrupted by his boss.
	"Yes, yes, I know who you are.  What do you want?"
	"Well, as you must have been expecting, someone has finally
hit our position.  We repulsed the intruders and..."
	"What?  What do you mean?  Somebody attacked you?"  The man
had stood up and had a look of rage... or fear.
	"Yes sir.  A missile attack destroyed and killed your APC
and driver then we exchanged fire...."
	"That's impossible!  It...I...How...why do you say I had
expected an attack?"
	"Sir.  Why else would you have hired a mercenary troop,
equiped them and paid them well unless you expected that the goods
you had us protect would be in jeopardy?"  Thom was becoming
confused and suspicious.  Nothing in life was ever simple but this
guard duty had seemed pretty straight forward at the time he'd signed
the contract.
	"Well, you say you defeated the intruders correct?"  Thom
could almost see the gears turning in the man's head.  Plots and
plans were being created, modified, destroyed.  "Well, soldier?"
	"Yes, we are presently in pursuit of five remaining bandits.
They are riding motorcycles down Pike's Avenue just passing 67th
street."  Thom informed the man as he peered out of a side window.
"Oh, it looks like they've also picked up five police cruisers and
a motorcycle cop.  Op, uh, Sir I omitted... we're in RedZone."
	"You're here?!"  The man had just started to sit down but
now he was standing bolt upright.  Thom could clearly see now that
it wasn't rage.  It was fear that was overcoming his boss.  The
chopper suddenly banked as the motorcycles changed course and
headed toward's the shopping district.
	"Yes sir.  We're directly behind and above the enemy in a
chopper.  What do you want us to do."
	"Ok, ok, just let me think a second."
	Kramer rapped on Thom's shoulder armour.  "Cap'n, I've been
tapping into their motorcycle comm's.  Their stupid scramblers
descramble radio messages then transmit it to their helmet's.  I can
listen into their line.  I've heard some interesting things."
	"Play it." Thom ordered.
	"Here it goes"  Kramer pressed a button on his palm top deck
and static laced chatter came over the chopper's speakers.

	"What do you mean you're coming HERE?" a voice shouted.  "You
can't come here or you'll jeopardize the whole operation.  Just
disappear and I'll contact you later."
	"Hey man.  We're getting our asses kicked here.  We've got
the cops buzzing up our butts and..."  This second voice was
breathing very heavily.  The motorcycle riders.
	"Alright head towards Broadway and Third.  There's a dance
studio there on the third floor.  If you can lose your pursuit
just run up there and I've got some specialized body guard's who
live up there who will give you sanctuary.  Otherwise radio them
when you get there and they'll try to help.  I'll call ahead so they
will be ready."
	"They better be there!"
	"They will be now just get out of here."

	Kramer hit a key on his palm-top and the static hiss cut off.
	"Did you hear all that sir?"  Thom asked his now pacing boss.
	"Yes, do we know who that was doing the ordering?  Where was
it sent from?"
	"It's not tracable sir" Kramer answered.  Thom could see
the man weighing options in his head.  Finally the suit came to a
decision.
	"Get up to Broadway and Third intercept them and capture at
least one alive.  There's alot of questions I need to have answered."
	"Yes sir."  Thom hit the disconnect key and slid the LCD back
into it's ceiling slot.  Smiley had already moved the chopper up and
off of the direct pursuit.  In a matter of minutes they hovered
around a small park two blocks from the target intersection.
Smiley set down amid the panicked mother's and children in the park.
The chances were low that anyone with any clout would allow their
wives or children to go to an unprotected outdoor park so Smiley
didn't wait for fleeing forms to get clear.
	"Suit up" Thom ordered as he locked his helmet into position.
Macky, Jonson, and Kramer followed his example.  "B-boy, you're out
for this one.  Stay with the chopper and cover our extraction."
	"What?  Sir I put in my share for this one.  I oughta have
the pleasure of crushing these..." B-boy insisted.
	"No."  Thom stopped B-boy. "I want everyone to have the
mobility of the power packs for this one.  Besides, it's like you
said.  You put your share for this one in already."  Thom threw
open the chopper door and the four men jumped out.

	They'd just got into position around the intersection,
hiding in alley ways, when the scream of sirens came rushing
around a corner and suddenly swung into view.  The intersection
must have appeared to the dispatcher program to be the optimum
sight for stopping the motorcycles.  Two cop cars skidded to a
halt effectively blocking the roadway.  The cars were typical
police cruisers of RedZone.  Lightly armoured with huge engines
and solid rubber tires.  They weren't as heavily armed or armoured
as most cities' forces were.  These individuals only had on torso
body armour and light machine guns.
	More siren's approached the intersection.  It was the
motorcycles still chased by three police cars and a motorcycle
cop.  The cycle riders saw the blockade and Thom noticed them
waver slightly in indecision.  Above Thom, suddenly several
automatic rifles started firing.  The support for the motorcycle
riders.  The two officers manning the blockade went down first.
The fire then sprinkled across the chase vehicles.  The motorcycle
cop was hit twice before he wobbled, tucked his front tire under,
and fliped.  The police cars swerved and came to a jumbled pileup
in the center of the road.  They were pretty slow at getting out
of their cars and entering the fire fight.
	The motorcyclists must have thought they had a small break
to get clear and into the building.  They were slowing down and
getting off their cycles when Thom signaled his men to attack.
Jonson and Macky were out in front and they opened up on the two
closest guys who were moving towards the building.  Full auto at
point blank range right at their facesheilds.  The two men collapsed
with their helmet's imploding in red gouts.  Thom hadn't seen that
one of the enemy had knelt down next to his cycle aiming a shoulder-
launched missle towards the police cars.  When Macky and Jonson
broke cover the missle was swung around.  Thom saw the man turn with
the missle at the last minute and grabbed Kramer.  He shouted but
he couldn't be sure whether any sound came out.  Macky and Jonson
were too busy looking at the two bodies fall and the missle slammed
into Macky without him ever realizing what had hit him.
	The explosion washed over Thom and blacked his helmet with
it's brilliant flash.  Kramer, in front of Thom, soaked up the
majority of the shock and debris.  A short burst of fire shattered
the silence.  Thom still couldn't see.  The helmet had finally died.
He wrenched it off of his head, just in time to see a large man get
hit by gunfire.  The man had been standing with one foot on top of
Jonson's helmet holding it steady.  The automatic rifle he held was
pointed right into a huge gore lined hole in Jonson's shattered
faceshield.  He must have run out from the cover of the building
right after the explosion and delivered Jonson's last calling.  The
police had finally rejoined the action by dissolving the man in a
rain of bullets.  Only one of the motorcyclists was still alive.
The one who had fired the missle that had killed Macky, knocked
Kramer down and probably out, and killed his two buddies.  He
was on the other side of the street, crawling out of the police fire
and into a thin, meter wide alley between a four story grocery store/
aparment building, and a 5 story red building.
	Thom was having problems of his own.  The enemy gunfire from
the third floor of the building Thom and Kramer were leaning against
had turned from the police to concentrate on them.  Another building
partially covered the building holding the snipers from the police
fire.  It was a good guess that the police wouldn't give up their
cover and try to charge the building.  Thom yelled into his helmet
for Smiley.  Nothing.
	Thom twisted Kramer so that Kramer faced him then he
pulled Kramer on top of him.  He could hear most of the rounds
spinging into the cement around them as Kramer's armour diverted
bullets.  Thom levered Kramer's cracked facesheild up.  Blood
dribbled down onto Thom's face.
	"Smiley, I need out NOW!  I'm pinned down in an alley closest
to you facing the intersection from Broadway."  Thom yelled into
Kramer's helmet.  Kramer spasmed above him as a bullet slammed into
him.  *Good thing you're in la-la land* Thom thought knowing that if
Kramer made it he would be hurting for quite a while.  The sound of
the bullets slamming down around him masked the sound of the chopper.
The third floor of the building suddenly blossomed into flame.
	Smiley fired a missle into the third floor of the building
putting an effective end to the sniper problem.  The debris was still
falling when Thom levered Kramer off of him a few seconds later.
	"Smiley get down here and send B-boy down to pick up Kramer.
I'm going after our man."  Thom shouted into Kramer's helmet as he
knelt down and tried to take off Kramer's helmet.  After several
tries he gave up.  He reached over and put on his own blackened
helmet.  The stupid facesheild wouldn't come off and he would be
needing it's protection.  "Damnit!", Thom swore as he picked up his
rifle.  On full power from his pack, he rocketed out into the street
towards the alley the enemy had disappeared into...completely blind.
	Thom knew he had cleared the alley's cover when he heard
the bullet's slash around him.  The police fire sounded like hollow
pops over the deep roar of his power pack.  He hoped that his suit's
defenses still operated.
	As soon as Thom hit the glass he knew something had gone
wrong.  He shut down his power pack and hit something relatively
soft.  His momentum carried him through and over whatever he'd hit
then he hit something made of light metal and crashed to a stop.
Thom suddenly could see.  The impact must have restored a little
bit of current to his helmet faceshield's flash filters.  Thom
peered around himself through his tinted but at least usable
faceshield.  He'd gone through the store front of the grocery shop.
He had knocked through a fruit display and come to rest against a
shelf of canned goods.  Thom shook his head to clear it, then
staggered to his feet.  Back door.  He ran down the aisle towards
the back of the store, barely noticing several, prone people
weeping in fear on the floor.  *Must be in a relatively well off
neighborhood.  They have fresh fruit.*  Thom mused cheerlessly as
he kicked open the back door.
	Luck was with Thom.  When he kicked open the back door of
the store, he completely suprised the man he'd been chasing.  The
guy must have thought that there were still more of his group left,
or he was too screwed up to run.  The man had been hiding so that a
dumpster stood inbetween him and the meter wide alley way he'd
retreated through.  Unfortunately for him the back door to the
grocery store was also behind the dumpster.  Thom raised his rifle
and pointed at the man's helmeted head.  The missle explosion had
been close enough to him to have ripped most of his front into a
nice bloody mess.  Thom wished it had been worse.
	"Chill and live."  Thom shouted.
	The stupid guy turned and started running.  *So you think
you can outrun a bullet, eh?* Thom thought as he lowered his rifle
to aim at the man's legs and pulled the trigger.  CLICK.  Nothing.
Thom, shocked at the lack of results, took a look at his rifle.
Right where all the action of the gun was located, a dent the size
of a brick end was obviously causing the problem.  No wonder why
the guy ran instead of putting his hands up.
	Thom dropped the useless rifle and chased after the man.
He'd disappeared into another alley that ran perpendicular to the
street where the police were probably still hiding behind their
cars.  Thom ran and caught sight of the man crossing the street
that ran across the end of the alley.  Thom wasn't gaining on the
guy.  He was thirty meters behind the man when the guy turned down
an alley.  Thom sprinted to get to the cross alleyway so that he
could keep an eye on the guy.  He was gasping for breath when he
reached the little intersection and skidded to a stop.
	The alleyway the man had turned down was one of those that
was barely wide enough for a car to squeeze down if trashcans
lined one side of it.  A car, no a limo, blocked most of the alley.
*Wardrugs* Thom guessed when he saw the man.  The guy was lying
on top of the limo facing Thom.  A hole had been bashed through
the glass windsheild of the limo.  The driver's head was pulled
through that hole.  The man was holding the driver's head by the
hair.  Some sort of brass knuckle, knife gizmo was shakingly held
against the driver's neck.
	Limo windsheilds were made of pretty tough bullet proof
glass.  The man's hands, if they were the unmodified original
equipment he was born with, would be broken to a point of
uselessness going through that glass.  When the man had slid up
onto the limo he'd dragged his bleeding body across the window.
The driver's neck, yanked and ground against his broken glass
collar, was bleeding streaks down the window.  It reminded Thom
of those picture-taking standups you find at ciruses, with holes
cut out for your face and ridiculous clown bodies painted on them.
	*What was a limo doing stuck in this stupid alley?*
Thom thought.  The lisence plate frame explained everything,
Pheonix Pharmacuticals.  *So the boss had sent somebody to check
up on us*
	Thom stood there deciding what to do.  Suddenly a rear
side window slid open and a suit with a gun popped up.  When the
standoff was broken Thom threw his power pack into full thrust
and hurled forward.  The suit shot four times hitting the man
in the arm and side.  The guy lost his grip on the driver's hair
then the shots hit his knife arm.  The knife dug deep into the
driver's jaw then sliced up through his cheek, eye and brow.
The driver's head jerked about then spasmed violently when the
glass around his neck sliced deeply into his windpipe and jugular.
Thom finally reached the man going alot faster than he'd planned.
They impacted hard and went sliding off the back end of the limo.
	"NO!" B-boy shouted from the street behind the limo.
Thom jerked up to look.  B-boy seeing the suit leaning out of the
window with a pistol aimed at Thom and the man jerked his rifle
up and ripped loose the whole magazine of bullets.  The suit
twisted and jumped in the window then slid spasming to the ground.
B-boy sprinted to Thom.
	"Watch him."  Thom said pointing at the man he'd finally
caught.  Thom pulled his helmet off and threw it to the ground.
Thom wasn't too worried about B-boy killing the suit since he was
probably one of the boss' men.  This was probably the only time
in his life that he would be able to kill a suit and be protected.
	"Cap'n, something you'd better know.  The bodyguards working
support for the enemies.  They had these."  B-boy placed small
cards into his palm.  Card keys for secured areas of Pheonix
Pharmacuticals LTD.  They'd been betrayed.  He grabbed B-boy's
pistol from it's holster on B-boy's outer left thigh and walked
over to the quivering suit.  *Hmmm he almost looks familiar.  Yes,
he looks like...No,...Yes, he is.  It's the Boss.*
	"Betraying me is probably the last mistake you'll make."
Thom said to his boss.  The man was shaking violently in the process
of dying.  "You don't make much sense but I guess the bottom line
is I'm alive and you're dead, eh?"
	"What...(choke)...do you mean betray?"  The dying man gasped.
Thom was shocked at the man trying to lie even as he died.
	"This is what I mean by betrayed."  Thom shouted thrusting
the cards into the man's face so he could see the Pheonix logo.	
His boss' eyes widened upon seeing the cards then turned into
a scowl.
	"That bastard...(cough)...MacGuire.  (cough)..beat me to
the...(cough)..to the...to the punch.  He..(cough).. he found out
too soon.  (cough)(cough)(cough)I had almost got that son of a
bitch too...(cough)(cough)."  The man was dying fast.
	"What are you talking about.  Tell me what the hell is
going on."  Thom demanded grabbing the man by his suit and giving
him a little shake.
	"...(cough)...yeah, that's it.  ...(cough) I'll get him yet.
Come close son, come close. (cough)(cough) May you be my instrument
of...(cough)(cough)...REVENGE."  The man had pulled Thom down to so
that their noses almost touched.  He had trouble focusing his eyes
on the man's they were so close.  "Thomas Williamson I RE-ACTIVATE
you."
	Thom's eyes locked into the man's.  Two seconds passed then
Thom fell into his own mind.  Memories, and images rushed to
conciousness. Things better left forgotten, and times that he swore
he'd never forget all came from their carefully crafted hiding
places and flooded him with memories.  People, friends and enemies,
flashed before his mind's eye.  Things he'd thought he'd done over
the past few years dissolved into their true dream state while the
suppressed memories of what he'd really been doing these past years
came slamming into place.  He needed to cry and laugh and scream as
he relived the missing years with a vividness and pain that
threatened to overcome him.  Thom was strong.  He forced the rising
panic down and took control of his memories.  He would remember
later.  Now he had to take of loose ends.
	Thom opened his eyes.  He was still hovering over his ex-
boss.  The man had died while Thom had been remembering.  A small
medical symbol flashed on the suit's wristband.  The ambulance
would be coming, and his boss was definitely rich enough to pay for
the medical expenses of full revival if they arrived before his
brain had completely been lost.  The body was extra.  Only the
brain was essential.  Thom took B-boy's pistol lined it up with
his bosses left eye and pulled the trigger.  He wasn't coming back.
	"Cap'n."  B-boy called.  He gestured down at the man they'd
been chasing.  "It's no good he's dead too.  I suppose this means
there's definitely no bonus huh?"  Thom had to grin at B-boy.  He
didn't know how right he was.
	A chopper was setting down in the middle of the street
B-boy had come from.  It was Smiley.  As soon as the chopper hit
the ground Smiley jumped out and ran over to where they were.
	"B-boy, Kramer said he had to tell you something."  Smiley
shouted over the roar of the helicopter.  B-boy nodded and jogged
over to the chopper.  He continued after making sure that B-boy
was out of hearing range, "Cap'n man it's bad news.  I was
monitoring the police band and B-boy is on the band.  They say
he wasted a suit from Pheonix Pharmacuticals and they even have
an image from direct link with the suit's eye's showing B-boy
with a rifle.  Cap'n it looks real and it looks like it just
happened."
	"Damn.  Smiley listen to me.  B-boy just killed our boss.
The guy must have been jacked in and he must have transmitted the
whole thing.  You and Kramer are good men.  I'm giving you one last
assignment.  You know our company bank account right?"  Smiley nodded
silently.  Thom continued, "Ok, take all the money and run.  You've
got to do it fast and you've got to be on your toes.  Don't think
I'm doing you any favors.  The cops may only be looking for B-boy
but there was some sort of internal problem at Pheonix and at least
one guy named MacGuire will be looking for you.  Hopefully if you do
a good job of running with the money then disappearing, you'll
provide a little diversion for me."  Thom paused trying to think
of a way to get Kramer to safety.
	"Don't worry Cap'n.  I'll look after Kramer.  It WAS a good
thing." Smiley reached out and grabbed Thom's hand.  They stood there
studying each other's faces for one last time then Smiley turned and
ran back to the chopper.  Thom saw Smiley stop and give a suprised
B-boy a hug then jump into the chopper and take off.  B-boy jogged
over to Thom.
	"What the hell was that?"  B-boy asked still looking back in
Smiley's direction.  "Oh, Kramer was sleeping so I let him get his
rest.  So what's next Cap'n?"
	"The cops are after you for murdering the boss."  Thom
said bluntly.  B-boy squinted in thought, then nodded.  That
explained alot.  They both knew he was a walking dead man.
	"B-boy look into my eyes."  Thom drew B-boy as close as
he could then he shouted, "James Mulgrave, I RE-ACTIVATE YOU!"
B-boy tensed and seemed to be attached to Thom by invisible rods
through their eyes.  Suddenly B-boy bent over double.  He started
screaming.
	"B-boy, get control of yourself!"  Thom was yelling into
B-boy's ears.  B-boy sat down on the alley floor.  He pulled his
knees up to his chest and rocked back forth clutching his head
with his hands and his knees with his elbows.  He started mumbling
things.  B-boy had alot to remeber and Thom knew they weren't
easy things to accept.  Thom could see that he was losing B-boy.
He did the only thing he could think of, he hit him.
	"Don't hit.  Please don't hit."  B-boy whined in a tiny
boyish voice. 	
	"Damn it B-boy don't flake on me."  Thom yelled.  B-boy.
He could remember every time they went to a new bar they'd hear
the same question.  What's the 'B' stand for.  B-boy would always
answer, "It's for Bad boy for bitchin' bad boy.".  Only the
members of the original company knew what it really meant.  It
stood for Baby boy.
	B-boy had run from a home that resembled the torture
chambers of a forgotten day.  He'd signed onto Thom's merc company
when he was twelve years old.  Everyone called him Baby boy, and
everybody loved him.  B-boy eventually grew out of the name.
Still, whenever Thom looked at B-boy all he could see was that
twelve year old face streaked with tears of fear which turned to
those of joy upon being allowed to clean gear for Thom's company.
He was always Thom's baby boy.
	"I'll do anything, just don't hurt me."  B-boy whined.
Thom realized he was crying, they both were.
	"B-boy, do you ever have that feeling like there's a,
well, a little creature or something in your head.  You know, like
some little bug beating around trying to get out."  B-boy had
continued rocking back and forth. "B-boy listen to me...please."
Thom started to shout again, shaking B-boy in desperation.
	"Yeah, what?"
	"Well, I've had that feeling too.  Like a little moth with
little dusty wings beating, thump, thump, thump, in there trying
to get out.  My own little piece of madness beating in my head."
	"Yeah, I've got one too.  Why won't it go away?  Why can't
it just get out of my head?  Thom, I can't take no more hurt.  I
just can't hurt no more.  I'll break apart and, and, and..." B-boy
waved his hands around incapable of expressing his fear.  Thom
nodded in understanding and B-boy looked pleadingly at Thom, "I
just know it."
	"Well, I can free you from your madness.  Just listen to
my voice and do what I say...", Thom began but was interrupted.
	"I just need it to get out of my head, all of it.  Just
get it out!"  B-boy's voice rose in pitch as he started clutching
his head.  "God, Thom it hurts.  I can't take no more of the hurt
Thom.  I, I,  Thomas help me!"  B-boy started sobbing.
	"James listen to me!  You've gotta..."  Thom tried to
match James' yelling with his own.
	"Thom...THOMAS!  It's in there and god they are...nnngh...
it, oh GOD Thom."  Thom knealt down to one side of B-boy and
grabbed his shoulder to break B-boy's mania.  B-boy turned
unseeing eyes to look at Thom then screamed, "NO!  Dad don't...
please don't touch me...please.  Thom where are you?  Thom I need
you.  Please help me Thom.  You promised." B-boy's eyes had a wild
look of dispair.  Thom had seen it many times in the bars and
alleys of every city he'd been to.  It was the look of the insane.
The look of those who'd succombed to the horrors of society and
could only find escape in thier own minds.  Thom had seen the
supposed few who were cured of their madness.  Their drug hazed
existence was calm and allowed them to escape the mental anguish
that haunted them, but what kind of life is that?  B-boy suddenly
began shivering.  He pulled his arms tight around his knees and
began to rock back and forth again.  Thom could only think of
B-boy sitting in a hospital ward.  Sitting and rocking back and
forth staring at a wall.  It made him sick.  It would make B-boy
disgusted.  There was only one thing to do to protect his soul...
his dignity.
	"Don't worry James.  It's Thomas.  I'll take care of it.
You know you can trust me.  I always take care of it no matter
what.  Right?" Thom asked.  B-boy nodded and a small grin
slipped through his terrified features for a second.  Thom
trembled as he brought up B-boy's pistol to B-boy's head, "Just
relax James.  I swore to you I'd stand by you till the end of time.
I swore I'd never hurt you.  I'll never let anybody hurt you.
James, I lu, I lov..."  He swallowed then blurted, "I've always
cared for you."  Thom's hand shook.  He pulled at the trigger but
his finger refused to finish his mind's command.  He couldn't do
it.  He put the gun down beside him, sobbing uncontrollably.
	B-boy, seemingly unaware of the silent battle of wills
going on behind him, stared at the alley wall sucking his thumb.
There was a short period of peace, the only sound was Thom weeping.
	"Thom?"  B-boy's voice seemed different somehow.  "I know
you treat me like a father and a brother should.  I mean, you're
the greatest person I've ever met.  You're the kindest most
wonderful person I've ever met, and will ever meet... GOD, I love
you like family for chrissake.  I love you for everything... 'cept
for one thing.  I could only hate you for one thing.  You
always took all the pain, you took all the pain for all of us.
You'd steal it all and you never shared any of it.  You've got to
share the pain too."  Things started taking an unreal quality to
them.  Everything was running in slow motion.  Huge slow tears
tracked down Thom's face.  The world turned furry and cold.  He
saw B-boy reach down beside where they sat and pick up something.
The pistol.  Billions of tiny spiders scampered across Thom's flesh
tingling and shivering.  It was the pistol he was raising in
slow motion towards his bandaged and tearfilled face.  *NO!*
Thom tried to scream.  He was swimming in syrup, and fighting a
thousand spider webs which held him down.  *NO!*  B-boy closed his
eyes.  *NO!*  And he pulled the trigger *NO!* and he set *NO!* his
madness *NO!* free *NO!*.....*I love you*.........................
	
	
	Thom closed his eyes in pain.  The only problem was when
they were closed all he could see was a man from his recently
recovered past.  A man he dreaded yet needed desperately to see.
A man named Crash.

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Not wanting to be greedy, I still find myself repulsed at the idea
of people other than myself financially benefiting from this story.
Reproduction and reposting for non-profit stuff is ok, but let me