dived into a shoulder roll, zooming into the open just as a roar of autofire shredded the tin-and-wood hut he’d been hiding behind. Kane and Grant fired their weapons, both drowned out by the roar of the mighty Browning Fifty. Anyone watching, though, wouldn’t have seen Grant’s hidden muzzle-flash, while the Sin Eater’s barrel blazed angrily.
The machine gunner jerked violently, his right forearm disintegrating under the impact of the monster hunting rifle in Grant’s hands. The Fifty stopped its bellow, the gunner’s screams piercing the air as blood sprayed in Lombard’s face.
The men mounted in the trucks looked at the man who’d been at the controls of their crowd-killing device, then at the lone ex-Magistrate getting to his feet, out in the open. A tendril of smoke curled from the muzzle of the Sin Eater. Lombard scrubbed at his eyes, grimacing as the injured bandit wound a cord tightly around his arm to tourniquet the injury.
“You gentlemen think that because Lombard’s with you, you know how to deal with a real Magistrate,” Kane said, walking toward the trucks.
From the grumbles of discomfort among the marauders, he knew that his ploy had worked.
“That’s bullshit!” Lombard shouted. “He’s got to have a partner somewhere!”
Kane ignored Lombard, addressing the rest of the bandits. “Your partners are all dead. I killed them, because Lombard was just too stubborn to realize that he’s second class. Now I’m going to appeal to you, because I hate wasting good ammunition.”
“He didn’t kill the others by himself,” Lombard snarled.
“No, he didn’t,” a woman’s voice called out. Brigid Baptiste strode into the open, Copperhead SMG held against her curvaceous hip. “He had the help of women and doctors. People with no combat training.”
Kane repressed the urge to smile, remembering the steep learning curve of Brigid’s early years at Cerberus, when the young woman had grown from an archivist to an adventurer who was a deadly shot and a tough fighter.
The bandits looked at Lombard.
“So you have a choice,” Kane offered. “Ditch your boss and find somewhere else to hunt, or you can all die where you stand.”
“How do you want him?” one of the bandits asked. “Dead or alive?”
“You fuckers!” Lombard spit. He lunged at the Browning, but Kane and Grant fired at the renegade Mag.
Kane’s bullet plucked at Lombard’s bicep, while Grant’s cannon round smashed the belt of ammunition feeding into the machine gun. The mounted weapon and Lombard spun almost in unison under their respective impacts.
Marauders lunged at Lombard, seizing him tightly.
“Whatever is easier for you,” Kane said, pushing his Sin Eater back into its holster on his forearm.
“God damn you!” Lombard shrieked as his men hurled him over the cab of the truck. He crashed into the dirt road, then clawed swiftly to his feet. Angry eyes glared at Kane, and he tensed. “This piece of shit isn’t so hot!”
“Then prove it!” another bandit shouted. “You got a Sin Eater. Show us you’re worth following.”
Lombard looked around, confused. He eventually rested his eyes on Kane, who stood, arms folded, shaking his head.
“Not a good idea, man,” Kane warned.
Lombard glanced toward Brigid.
“Don’t look at her. She’d just as soon shoot you, but she’s not paying for the bullets,” Kane snapped.
Lombard’s eyes flicked to the Sin Eater on his forearm. One flex, and the autoweapon would rocket into his hand. Kane knew, though, that a fast draw with the hydraulic holster was a perishable skill. The movement would be fast, but getting the first shot on target required regular practice. Lombard was a thief who attacked unarmed doctors, not a master gunslinger who constantly honed his skills.
In the meantime, Kane had just proved his lethality against younger, hardier men. Lombard reached slowly for the straps on his Sin Eater, unfastening them. The machine pistol landed in the dirt at his feet, and Lombard dropped to his knees, lacing his fingers behind his head.
Kane turned to glare at the truckloads of remaining bandits. “Go.”
The new leader of the robber gang looked at the rest of his men. The diesels roared as the wags ground into Reverse, backing away from the edge of the town.
“They’re not slowing down,” Grant confirmed. “They’ve taken the hint.”
Kane walked toward Lombard, pausing only to scoop up the renegade’s fallen weapon. “What to do with you…”
“Grant…” Lombard snarled. “That big ape—”
Kane took a swift step forward and kicked him in the face. The impact split a seam of skin from eyebrow to the corner of Lombard’s mouth. Blood flowed from the fresh gash.
“Talking about my partner like that is always a bad idea,” Kane said.
“You’re crazy!” Lombard snapped. His hands covered his battered, bloody face. “What are you going to do with me?”
“We’ll see if Dr. Phillips needs someone to do grunt work,” Grant said, rejoining his partners. “Though nothing too complicated.”
“You lied when you said there weren’t any other ex-Mags,” Lombard complained.
“And you were dumb enough to not recognize me,” Grant countered. “Your bandits were plain and simple outsmarted. We had the communication, we had the knowledge, and now you’re just a footnote. Twenty marauders with big trucks and big guns, taken down by three people, two of them who you’d disarmed.”
Lombard grimaced, then noted that Kane was disassembling the surrendered Sin Eater, handing magazines and the holster to Grant. They looked distracted by the menial task as they whispered softly to each other, probably discussing plans. Lombard reached down to his boot, coming up with a gleaming little pistol in his hand.
The deposed bandit leader pulled the trigger, but his gunshot jerked into the sky as Brigid pumped a single Copperhead round into Lombard’s chest.
“Fool,” Brigid muttered. “So busy concentrating on you two, he forgot all about me.”
“Well, that solves the problem of what to do with the asshole,” Grant said with a sigh.
Kane smirked. “A self-resolving problem, most likely. Thanks, Baptiste.”
“What thanks?” Brigid asked. “I need one of you two to grab that last wheelbarrow full of meds. I’m not busting my back for it.”
Kane chuckled, kicking the gun out of Lombard’s dead fingers. “I love you, too, Baptiste.”
Brigid returned the smile. There was an uncomfortable pause, but she regained her composure. “Let’s go. We should get back to Cerberus to see if anything new has come up.”
Kane nodded. “No rest for the wicked.”
Chapter 4
Mohandas Lakesh Singh stood just outside the anteroom of the mat trans chamber as Kane, Brigid and Grant returned from their sojourn to Cobaltville. He waited alongside an impatient Domi, who paced like an anxious panther in a cage.
Kane looked the two people over and knew that whatever was going on, it couldn’t be good. “Who showed up? Erica? Sindri?”
“Why would it be them?” Lakesh asked.
“Because Cerberus is still standing, but you’re chomping at the bit to let us know some shit’s up,” Grant answered for Kane.
“Neither Erica or Sindri,” Domi answered, her voice quick and clipped. “Ran into a millennial