To: 
From: "Jay  P Hailey" 
Reply-To: trekcreative{at}yahoogroups.com



Title:Water Dictatorship
Author: Jay P. Hailey (JayPHailey{at}TIC1.Net) Series: Vista City
Part: 11/11
Rating [PG]

The ride out into the desert took two and a half hours.  Angelo said
nothing.  He considered trying to grab for the wheel of the old Beamer and
swerving them off the road.  It would get him shot, and then crashed, and
possibly shot again if the two hit people survived the crash.  It would
take a serious accident at the speed they were going to accomplish the
destruction necessary.  Angelo tabled the idea.

He considered bailing out, but the car was moving an about sixty miles an
hour.  Angelo could look forward to several broken bones and possible death
bailing out of the car at that speed.  Then he'd be in no shape to resist
when they backed over him and drove away. Another idea tabled.  That one
might work if there was a patrol car around, but the night was devoid of
them.

They pulled off the highway halfway to Palm Springs.  The high desert air
was crisp and a little cool in the night.  Angelo was preparing to run for
it when he was escorted out of the car.  There was a black SUV there. 
These vehicles were so generic that Angelo couldn't tell which make it was.
 John Marlowe and Shane Chee got out of the SUV and walked forwards to meet
them.

"Angelo."  Marlowe said.  "You finally have my undivided
attention.  What did Randi leave for you in her safe deposit box?"

"She left me a complete copy of Shane's virus."  Angelo said. 
"And enough notes to reconstruct your plan."

"Reconstruct it on what?"  Chee smirked.

"Uh huh, and what did you do with this evidence?"  Marlowe asked.

"It's safe."  Angelo breezed.  He sobered.  "I guess that's
what Randi thought, too, isn't it?"

Marlowe shook his head.  "Soon that won't matter to you.  There's
billions of dollars at stake and we're too close to launch to let you or
anyone derail it."

"I guess that means job security for you two, huh?"  Angelo said
to the bland woman.  She looked back with cold eyes.  She probably didn't
even hear what Angelo said.  He was just meat.

"I'll make you a deal, Angelo.  Possibly your last one."  Marlowe
said. "Turn Randi's disks and all  evidence over to me and walk away. 
In return I'll let you live."

Angelo looked Marlowe in the face.  He was signing his death warrant and he
knew it, but he couldn't let it go.  "Someone has to pay for Randi's
death."

"Oh, what the hell does it matter now?"  Marlowe barked. 
"Buy a clue.  She dumped you fifteen years ago.  What's she going to
do now, take you back Angelo?  Say 'I'm proud of you'?  She wanted to drown
in money but couldn't handle getting her hands dirty to get it.  Is that
who you're going to die for, really?  Is that what your life's worth?"

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

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

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

"Uh oh."  Chee said.

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

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

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

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

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

Marlowe and Chee bolted for the SUV.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who in the fuck is that?"  Mangar hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Does that kind of shit happen to you often?"  Mangar asked Angelo.

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

-*-

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

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

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

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

-*-

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

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

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

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

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

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

The figure pointed at the cantina where Marlowe watched impassively.

The soldiers started strutting towards the cantina.

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

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

-*-

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

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

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

Angelo turned off the computer and went outside.

[ End ]


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