The Bridge Chronicles Trilogy (48 page)

“Of course, when you’ve got a direct line to the mayor’s office, it’s pretty easy to get that kind of equipment without causing a stir. Ain’t that right, Chimmie Chim Chim?”

“What’s he talking about, Chimuelo?” Nacho asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he stared daggers into his second-in-command.

“See, the mayor isn’t just taking advantage of the opportunity presented by the war. He created it.”

“That’s preposterous! The mayor’s office has been trying to shut down these gangs since the second I took office.” Bridge had to admire the politician’s implacable façade, the ability to lie to everyone in earshot without any overt sign of duplicity. Of course, Bridge knew Soto was lying through his teeth.

“I never said you weren’t. Your office has been trying to end the gang ‘problem,’ it’s been trying very hard to do just that thing. Such a tough nut to crack as the gang problem created by the riots takes vision, creativity. Like embedding an undercover cop so deep he ends up bending the ear of one of the gang leaders.” The accusing glares began. Eyes drifted towards Chimuelo, who stood silent beside his leader. “Not an easy task, I’d imagine. But you’re good, Chimmy Chim. Really, really good. You almost had me fooled but I knew something was off about you the minute you started talking. Or should I call you Officer Vasquez?” Chimuelo’s outer demeanor didn’t change, but something clicked in his eyes, the final realization of the cornered. “Good job on faking your own death. Better job than I did, but then I didn’t have the resources of the mayor’s office and the entire Chronosoft LGL behind me.”

“He’s full of shit,” Chimuelo growled and spat at Bridge’s feet. “You know me, Nacho, you know I’m solid.”

Nacho came to his second’s defense admirably. “This is my boy, Bridge. What makes you think I should trust
una se extiende la rata
like you?”

“Nothing. I don’t expÀng ect you to trust me one bit. Hell, I don’t expect anyone to believe me. Of course, when the dead body of a cybernetic freak job like these two,” he pointed at the Special Squad cops lying on the floor, “shows up on a Sanderson Fielding report, I expect everybody to believe it, if only a little bit. And that’s all I really need is for people to believe a little bit of the story.”

“Picture it. It starts with a mayor interested in confiscating all sorts of neighborhood property, having the city auction it off for redevelopment, then buying up all that land at pennies on the dollar. All to reshape the Los Angeles landscape into the kind of corporate wet dream that makes every LGL happy in the pants. That Mayor doesn’t have one set of scruples, so he embeds a dead undercover cop in one of the big gangs in town, gets that cop to start the biggest gang war this city has seen since the ‘80’s. He supplies that cop with some of the hottest gear this side of the fucking military. Gangsters do what gangsters do. Give them a gun, they shoot something, give them a bigger gun, they make a bigger racket, they blow up really big shit. When that gang violence gets splattered on every GlobalNet feed from here to Timbuktu, he has no choice but to react with as much force as he can muster. The LGL gives their law enforcement a huge amount of leeway in such situations. After all, the Act was all about quelling urban violence by any means necessary. And the type of mayor who impaled dead militia members on spikes at the edges of his neighborhood during the riots to keep rioters out, that kind of hardcore motherfucker didn’t bat an eyelash at wiping out every member of the Families he could find.”

Bridge drove a stare into Soto’s eyes like a spear. “Isn’t that about how it went down?” When Soto didn’t answer, he continued. “Of course, I queered the deal a bit, didn’t I? As soon as I got involved in bringing all the interested parties to the table, you had to act quickly. Peace doesn’t do much for you, does it? You get accused of negotiating with terrorists or criminals, your land grab gets stopped in its tracks with the Families still operating, albeit in a reduced capacity. So you had to stop the whole thing, and the best way to do that is make sure the Families don’t agree to the deal. All it takes is one Family leader missing this meeting and the whole deal goes up in smoke. I bet when you heard one of Chronosoft’s finest was charged with escorting the head of
Los Magos
to this dance, you jumped for joy. A nice juicy target to aim Special Squad at, am I right?” Soto’s stony expression cracked a little. “What I can’t quite figure out is why you let him.” Bridge pointed at Martel.

The man with the intense reptilian stare shrugged. “Field testing. We knew Ricardo would be traveling with you, and we knew you’d have a technomancer in your crew.” Soto started to protest, but a raised hand from Martel silenced him. “If they succeeded, we got both an accurate gauge of their power and a measure of the technomancer’s ability as well. If they didn’t, that’s invaluable data as well.”

“I hope you weren’t expecting any sort of video footage from that mask there,” Bridge replied. “Video and wizards don’t get along.”

“It’s not necessary.” Martel’s placid tone sent butterflies whizzing through Bridge’s stomach. The fixer could look around this room at any moment and see some of the deadliest sons of bitches in California, maybe in the entire United States. But something toÀheard ld him that none could match the danger this man posed.

“Now, Mr. Mayor, would you rather this type of story get posted to the GlobalNet with pictures and video of your freak shows, or do we have some sort of deal?”

“You bastard,” Soto hissed. “I will have your balls for breakfast. I will…”

“Save the posturing, Arturo. In the grand scheme of things, this really isn’t that big a deal,” Martel interrupted. “There are certainly advantages to an autonomous zone. They will most certainly offset any fallout from seeming weak on crime. And they are certainly preferable to another political scandal attributed to the LGL’s first elected administration.”

Thames could barely contain his excitement. “So we’re in business?”

The expression on Soto’s face was priceless, worth almost every ounce of trouble Bridge had gone through to see it. A cross between swallowing dead roadkill and being prison raped, Soto seemed on the verge of an apoplectic rage. He said through clenched teeth, “The mayor’s office has no objection.”

Bridge turned to the Families. AsiaTown nodded silently as one. The Panthers nodded solemnly. The crystalline voice of Far-el’s hologram echoed throughout the immense interior with an affirmative.

Stonewall stood slightly apart from Bridge, a study in silent rage. His fists clenched at his side, the ex-footballer’s brow furrowed with conflicting emotions. The one dream Stonewall had long held for the Families was a home of their own, a sovereign nation from which to rebuild a society that benefited all who lived in it. That dream floated within reach, but the cost tormented him. Finally, his eyes met Bridge’s. They shared a knowing glance, and all the regret, all the disappointment and all the despair of the solution before them played on their faces. “
Los Magos
will abide by the agreement.” He paused, then raised an accusing finger towards Bridge. “But you and me, brother. You and me are done.”

Bridge nodded gravely.

“Well, ain’t that all sad and shit,” Nacho sneered. “Too bad it’s all for nothing.
El Diablos
won’t be nobody’s circus act. We do not agree to this.”

Bridge sighed. “Yeah, that’s kind of what I expected. Too bad.” He raised an arm, playing the final ace up his sleeve, literally. “Daylight.” The room exploded with light.

The room stood stock-still for long seconds, unable to process the effects of Bridge’s action. As the first to react, Danton got to Bridge’s arm before anyone, grabbing him by the wrist and twisting him downward into a pained clump on the gritty floor. Her knee dug into his back, grime from the floÀidgor scratching his stubbled cheek. “GUN!” she shouted. Those who had hesitated reacted and weapons reappeared in hands with the quickness from all points on the circle. From his pinned position, Bridge observed his handiwork.

Nacho lay directly across from Bridge, sprawled on his back with arms thrown lifelessly out from his body. The gang leader’s chest heaved once, rattled and ceased to move. His bodyguards fanned their guns away from them, seeking to pick the proper target from a confusing array of possible hostiles. Chimuelo showed no concern whatsoever for his stricken leader. One of the bodyguards finally reached down and felt at Nacho’s neck. Obviously confused at what exact signs of life he must look for, he fumbled around, feeling both sides of Nacho’s neck while keeping his eyes on the targets around him. Unable to find any discernible sign of life, he took his eyes off the circle, focusing his full attention on the body. “Chimuelo, I think he’s dead, yo.”

“What do you mean, think?”

“I ain’t no doctor, homes! I don’t feel no neck thing.”

“Feel the neck thing.”

“I can’t feel no neck thing! I told you!”

“Goddamnit, let me.”

Danton’s shout distracted Bridge from the unfolding search for the neck thing. “Where is it, Bridge?”

“Where is what, Officer Danton?”

“The gun, Bridge. Where’d it go?”

“What gun? I don’t carry a gun.”

She searched his arm roughly, pushing his sleeve up forcefully, then feeling up and down his forearm, wrist and hand. She found nothing, of course. “Where did the gun go? You shot him with something.”

“Do you see a gun back there, Danton? If not, then let me up.”

She cursed under her breath, driving her knee harder into his back before standing up. He turned over and stuck a hand out for assistance, but she refused the hand with a sour scowl. He shrugged and stood.

“He’s dead,” Chimuelo announced. “You fucking killed him”

“Yes, I did,” Bridge admitted.

Mu’s spell had worked perfectly. Mu had dubbed it a magic missile with a chuckle. Similar to the ward Bridge had used to blow up his apartment, the missile was an inert bubble of invisible energy stuck to the inside of Bridge’s wrist. As soon as Bridge spoke the password, ‘daylight’ the bubble exploded, firing a single particle of solid light into whatever Bridge aimed his arm at. The pyrotechnics it produced were purely illusory, but the missile’s effect proved itself all too deadly. Às NewOnce the missile had been expended, no trace was left of its existence. No powder burns on his sleeves or arm, no physical firing mechanism, nothing to tie Bridge to the death.

“Of course, none of you can prove it, now can you? As Officer Danton has so ably demonstrated, I am unarmed.”

The undercover cop cum gang leader raged. “Then how did that fucking hole get in his head?” Chimuelo stabbed an accusing finger at the body.

Bridge remained silent for a moment, adopting a posture of mock contemplation. He snapped a finger dramatically. “Sniper?”

“Bridge, are you admitting to hiring a killer to take out Nacho?” Soto asked, his shoulders betraying his hungry desire for any chance to scuttle these talks.

“I’m admitting to not a goddamn thing. I killed him, sure enough, but there’s nothing you will find that could convict me of it, even in the kind of kangaroo courts Chronosoft could drum up. No shell casings, no bullet holes in any of the windows a sniper would use, no weapon on me at all, and no eyewitness who could testify truthfully to what the hell happened to that dead son of a bitch.”

“That it, then,” Stonewall sighed. “Without Nacho,
El Diablos
can’t approve the deal. It’s fucked.” Soto’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, darkening just as quickly when Bridge spoke up.

“Not quite. The leader of
El Diablos
would have to approve the deal.”

“That’s me, and I fucking don’t,” Chimuelo growled.

“Getting ahead of yourself there, Officer. The leader of
El Diablos
is the fittest, the strongest, the guy who can take out the previous leader one way or the other. Succession ain’t formal, it’s predatory. You want to lead
El Diablos
, you gotta take out the previous leader. Kind of like I did.”

Chimuelo’s eyes reflected a curious mixture of confusion, rage and horrified understanding. Bridge had assassinated Nacho, and by
El Diablos
law, that made him the leader no matter who stood as second. “Unless of course, you want to admit to hiring me to assassinate the leader. I’m sure Officer Danton would love to hear a confession like that, am I right?” Danton glared at Bridge, her jaw set so hard she must have been grinding her teeth to powder. A swift nod gave Bridge all the backing he needed.

“And as de facto leader of
El Diablos
, I hereby agree to this deal.”

Chimuelo screamed. “You can’t do this! I’ll shoot you myself!”

“You could try,” Bridge replied, raising a finger. “But you’ll find it hard to penetrate a technomancer’s force field, and I’m pretty sure somebody up in this bitch will plug you before you get the chance. Not that it matters, because we both know you didn’t spend almost two years undercover with this group of gÀ> is the fangsters to not get some kind of conviction, which you won’t get if you pop a cap in my ass gangster-style.”

Chimuelo’s face hardened but his gun hand faltered. The room drew one, two, three tense breaths before he lowered the weapon.

Bridge turned back to the mayor with a grin. “I have one stipulation to my family’s consent, Mr. Mayor. Your undercover officer here, he stays right where he is.”