that chariot resembling a bright cloud in the sky
It sat in the garage under all the lights and eyes like an alien artifact lying in wait. A Chevy Suburban, supercharged V8, drive ft tires, grey as a thuorm, with deep tint windows and riddled with impacts, none of which peed, thanks to the armor. VPAM VR 10, rated to withstand eveent 7.62x54r round. A prote level whially would have been overkill in a US city, but seeing as how the PKM up on the hill had been putting the rounds out at 250 a minute, showed quite a bit of forethought. Whoever had brought this thing had known they would be pying with some serious fire.
I was an armory on wheels. Over two thousand rounds of ammunition, armor ptes, all kinds of explosives, smoke grenades, gas grenades, fsh bangs, gas masks, enough medical equipment and trolled substaucked away in tightly anized partments to set up a small field hospital, and a seemingly random colle of clothes that upon closer iion proved to be intelligently chosen for disguise.
There were also a few ptops and phones. Of course, they were fried, and probably encrypted before that anyway. Same thing with all the internal puters, many of which had to be welded open. The biggest scare came when a partment of high explosives was found uhe floorboards, wired to something. It had been an hour of the squad cheg it over before they were allowed to return to the garage, and by that time Detective Williams had gotten some updates.
The fingerprints had e back. Only och, though they had found at least three distinct sets. Some guy from Saginaw. His only arrests were for drunk and disorderly, disturbing the peace, and possession paraphernalia. He worked night security six days a week and had no known criminal es. Another fug mystery. Now with the FBI on hand maybe something would e of it. Lewis had thought it might be some cult shit, or some gang recruiting known nobodies with records or something.
Two other armored vehicles had been involved, one of which was captured on the downtown cameras pig up the robbery suspect, and both of which, like the SUV, had been armored by unknown persons using state of the art teiques after being passed around used car lots and marked as salvage titles, theered t addicts and inmates with credit scores in the double digits. Like they had been willed ience just to get shot at o a flea market.
The Beetle had looked like a bomb was dropped on the roof, and the Mercedes had bare metal and white windows on one side like someo-bo. Looking at the three-inch-thick window gss rolled part way down in the door of the SUV, he tried to imagihe pointless age that had broken out on that irrelevant interse. The gas station had been shredded. Hundreds of mae gun rounds shot blindly in the general dire of the SUV, he was told, when it hadn’t been gunning down his brothers in arms or drilling through the Beetles armor. It was a miracle the gas pumps hadn’t gone off.
He knew a lot about what happened, by now, but a handful of nothing when it came to why.
Detective Martinez spped him on the back with a folder as he came up to gawk at the SUV.
“Gat damn, I want one. Gonna feel like I’m driving around in a tin after seeing this shit.” He shook his head at the SUV, where a tech was adding another Cuesta Ray to the “miseous pile” of cigars and liquor and water bottles and even bags of fug gummy worms.
“You see that Bearcat ride in?” Williams asked, just to say something, without looking away.
Martinez whistled. “I sure did. Almost makes me wanna start kissing ass so I get oeam.” He smiled and looked around to see if anyone had heard.
“Oh!” he spped the folder on his hand. “Patrol found your ruy dead in some Grandma’s house on the eastside.”
“What the fuck?” Williams took out his phone.
“Oh yeah, I was supposed to call you but—” He gawked at the SUV some more and watched a tei gingerly remove a pistol from uhe cupholders.
“Ten-millimeter gs, like the guy was hunting bear, ahis shit. Jas says five gs, five headshots.” Martinez held up his open hand aured for effect. “Two of em through the wall, ohrough the front door, ohrough the passenger window of the car on the wn, right through and got the driver. Like they all stood still for it. You believe that?”
They were walking back towards the offiow. Williams looked over his shoulder o time at the SUV.
“Hell no. Jaade that shit up.”
“Maybe. Oh, and here.” Martinez handed him the file. “I know you like paper when you’re thinking. I had Roberts Jr. type this up to keep him busy. Kid’s gonna have an aneurysm if he sees one more fed. Thinks we’re on fug Narcos.”
“What is this?” Past the sheets of stuff he knew, mostly hand typed bullet points, rintout of a driver’s lise photo and some demos.
“Some guy turned himself in,” Martinez said. “g to be part of the team that shot up the party wagon in there. Says he knows where they’re gonna hit . A hundred dolrs says he’s a schizo that saw it on the news and flew over, but the FBI’s talking to him anyway. Fug National Guard will be here at this rate.”
Williams opehe file uhe fluorest light in the hallway while the words “flew over” looped in his head. A door creaked behind him, the sound romanticized into an echo by the garage oher side, while voices murmured from the offices. It was like the turning point in a horror movie.
“Shit. Did you say fly?” Sure enough, the guy had no record, no known associates, worked a dead end o five at some call ter, and lived a thousand miles away in some suburb near bus, Ohio. Financial statements showed no firearms or ammo purchases ever, unless you t every Call of Duty i ten years, and a picket three days ago. Family worried sick, supervisor preparing termination for no call no show, no signs of emotional disturbances, besides the general maise of a disappointed existenon to almost every wage sve across the nation. It was the kind of file that was being disturbingly familiar in this case. The dots were eg, but they weren’t pointing towards anything he could see. It felt like watg some unknown force build a highway on the moon.
“What? I didn’t see anything iing,” Martinez said, watg him frown.
“Exactly.”
Vimana. Merkabah. Crash-Cart. Deadsled. Just a few of the many names Hardworlders have given their favored vehicles over the years. But the team's SUV doesn't have a name, yet... ime, bendiy and dodging bullets builds up an appetite. episode, Ba.