My foot was pressed into the accelerator so hard that it felt like the soles of my shoes were fusing into the pedal. The dark car whirred through the black streets, my headlights illuminating the tiny reflectors as they were mowed down underneath us. No other cars were driving, so I allowed myself to weave between lanes to pull of high speed turns. I wasn't sure whether Echo had already sent her entourage after us, but the farther away I got, the better.
I twisted through the small streets leading away from the hotel, then hit a highway running parallel to a deserted stretch of beach. The sand and surf were both stained black from the night, but the crests of the waves glowed with moonlight as they tumbled around in the silent sea. Out of immediate danger, I clicked the headlights off. The car slid forward in stealth and relative safety.
"You're not tied up."
Cal was sitting directly behind Icarus, his gun resting in his lap. Despite that, his eyes were slicing into Icarus's skull like lasers.
"Yeah, I'm not." Icarus replied as he watched the peaceful scenery through a window webbed with cracks.
"Are we trusting him then?" Cal turned his voice towards me.
"Yeah," I replied, "For now. If he shoots either of us, no holds barred."
"He still hasn't told us everything." Cal directed the words back towards Icarus. "You want to explain what the hell that just was?"
"Echo hired help. She probably hid a GPS on her somewhere, and they found and extracted her." Icarus twisted in his seat to face him. "She'll start hunting you guys down again."
"Why didn't they help you?" Cal asked. "There were plenty of them."
"She bought them herself, probably with money she'll get from killing you." Icarus explained, "Mercenaries don't care about anything but what they're paid for."
"But why didn't she get you too? You're working together."
"No we're not."
"You're not?" Cal's voice stayed even, but I could sense the suspicion.
"No. We both work for the same people, and had the same target, but only one of us could collect the bounty. It's supposed to incentivize the kill."
"That's stupid. If you'd worked together when we kidnapped you, we'd both be dead."
"Yeah. I don't make the rules."
"Who does?"
A second of silence. I kept driving, trusting Cal to keep up the talking. Icarus opened his mouth, then closed it almost instantly.
"Alright." Cal said, "Here's what I've deduced: Echo isn't just not helping you, she's actively trying to stop you. From her disposition, I'm assuming that she won't hesitate to kill you if she gets the chance."
"It's against the rules, but so is hiring mercenaries from outside the group. If she's planning a way to bend records and call in favors to clean up the evidence of her cheating that way, she could also hide my death."
"So, we're in the same boat. Enemy of an enemy is my friend." Cal continued. "She's a badass, and she's got friends. Neither me and Lena or you alone could kill her, so we're going to have to work together."
Icarus paused for a moment. The air was thick with silence and tension.
"How many people have you killed?" I interjected.
Icarus turned to me in surprise, Cal imitating him.
"You heard me." My eyes were fixed on the road ahead. "How many?"
"None." Icarus said, and I knew he was telling the truth. "This was my first job, that's why I'm so shit at it."
"Okay." I didn't move my gaze. "As long as you don't try anything, I'm fine with working with you."
Cal resumed the questioning, still watching the the nape of Icarus's neck. "Who do you work for?"
"It's called Mercury. I'm not sure what that name means. It's a mobile crime syndicate, like a network of hitmen, drug trafficking, mercenaries, pretty much anything."
Cal fell silent, staggering at the mountain of information Icarus had just handed to him. Then he continued. "Who runs it?"
"I don't know. I don't know if we really have a leader. Some people are obviously higher in the pecking order, but it's pretty convoluted. I'd call it a confederacy, but it's completely corrupt. Everyone just wants money and doesn't care how they get it. If you bribe the right people, you can bend every rule we've established, but you'll make enemies. We've probably had leaders in the past, but Mercury is way too dynamic and chaotic to get complete control of. It's like a self destructive hive mind."
"Where is it?"
"Nowhere. Like I said, it's mobile. With the Internet and stuff, it's too big of a risk to meet up and chat about our operations. Most of us can contact each other, but we do that sparsely. We use cryptocurrencies, self maintained servers, and the dark web. Me and Echo got the mission to kill you guys from an encrypted email. She probably bought those mercenaries the same way."
"This sounds bullshit." I interjected. "We've seen mafias in the past. The sneakiest ones are always organized and centralized around one leader."
"Mercury isn't like that. It barely qualifies as organized crime. It's just a huge clump of assassins, hackers, and money launderers sticking together and working for each other. Once you get to the level that Mercury operates in, you have no choice but to start working together. You can be good at killing, but need people to set up jobs for you and cover your tracks. You could have connections in the government, and want people to sell them to. Everyone in the syndicate benefits from the detriment of those outside it, so they work together to make sure it happens."
"And you work for them?" Cal asked.
"It wasn't my choice. My dad was a pretty important person to them. Jason Kline. He set up a financial system, and bent everyone to his will. If you did him a favor, you could get a huge bonus in your pay. He could pick up on any discrepancy in the money, so if you tried to sneak yourself an extra buck he'd find you and blackmail you into helping him. He used everyone's unwilling help to build himself up to almost ruling all of Mercury. He skimmed the top off of their pay and took it for himself. Nobody could navigate his genius system enough to figure out exactly what he was up to, and even if they could, they wouldn't dare cross him.
"He used funds and services to live secluded and comfortably, and then he met my mom. I'm not sure who she was, but I doubt they ever loved each other. I was born, and she disappeared. Chances are, she hid the pregnancy from him, assuming being the mother of his son would give her some share of his fortune. But he probably instantly ordered her to be killed and dumped in a river somewhere. He didn't have the heart to kill me, so he just sent me through foster care.
"Eventually he realized that I could be of use. A son is one of the only people you can rely on, and a concrete ally was something he was desperately lacking. The other members of Mercury were getting pissed off at their bad deals, and began to understand how they were being manipulated. The hitmen, especially.
"So he used favors and money to train me. From the age of five onwards, I spent the weekends learning close quarter combat, languages, and how the crime world worked. Even when I turned out to be abysmal at marksmanship, he kept going. I entered fighting tournaments under fake names and won them. I can take out people with my bare hands before they've even got time to raise their fists. I've got reflexes like a fucking cat."
"And then he died?" I asked.
"And then he died. I don't know which hitman did it, but I doubt they were even hired to. Everyone began to resent his power, and jealousy and fear took over. His head was beaten in with the barrel of a shotgun, and the rest of Mercury covered up his death. Some less powerful people took over the finances, and while there was still plenty of corruption and bribing, with multiple people in charge it was hard for any of them to get control like he did. And like I said, it's always changing. People die, leave, loose power, or get caught. Jason Kline was the first to abuse the finances to that level, and after he died everybody was too wary to let anybody else get that much power."
"Okay." Cal finally dropped his gaze to the floor. "Okay. Jesus Christ."
"That sounds like a lot of people we need to kill." I pointed out. "Let's start with Echo and see how we get on from there."
"Wait." Icarus interrupted. "You're not going to actually take it down. I understand that you should, and if you make me, I'll help you. But even with your experience and schizophrenia, you'll probably not even be able to make it past Echo."
"It's not schizophrenia," I corrected, "It's magic."
"Sure. But you don't have any clue what you're up against. Don't antagonize them."
"I don't know if you've been paying attention," Cal said, "but we kidnapped two of their fighters and brainwashed one of them. And neither of us have even been shot yet."
"I'm not brainwashed." Icarus protested.
"Yes, you are. We brainwashed you like hell. You're helping us, giving us information, and willingly sitting there while we continue to hold you captive."
"I'm doing that of my free will. I'm just being cooperative because we'd mutually benefit."
"You could easily just kill both of us and then run away. Echo wouldn't have an incentive to hunt you down, you could slip away from Mercury," Cal said smugly, "and you'd even get paid for it. Being nice isn't enough to outweigh that. We strategically broke you down psychologically with isolation, threats, and by kicking your ass at chess. You're brainwashed."
"Fine. I guess I am brainwashed. That doesn't mean I'm under your control."
"Um, yeah." Cal sat back and I saw every muscle in his body relax. "You are completely under our influence."
We stayed driving for the next twelve hours. As morning approached, we ditched our bullet ridden car for a gleaming red convertible. I'd hesitated before stealing it, as it looked like someone's pride and joy, but a few visions informed me that the owner was easily rich enough to afford many more nice cars. Cal broke in while Icarus and I unscrewed the license plates off and replaced them with those of the dark car we'd escaped in.
By the time we were on the highway, all three of us were thoroughly enjoying ourselves. We'd shoplifted a day's worth of junk food and candy from a gas station and were relaxing in our new luxury vehicle, watching the world blur by.
A crashing gunshot met my ears. I turned my head away from the steering wheel and fixed my eyes on a road sign blazing by, a clean hole shot directly through the center.
"God damn it." Cal lowered his pistol and stared wistfully at the sign as it disappeared into the horizon.
"You missed the 'O'." Icarus pointed out through a mouthful of beef jerky. "Lena's still winning."
"I noticed," Cal replied, "I was a centimeter too low."
We'd found an abandoned section of highway and began pacing back and forth over a twenty mile stretch. To entertain ourselves, we were using road signs as target practice.
I kept one hand on the steering wheel while the other picked up my gun.
"That one on the left." Icarus said," Go for the.....top of the e in exit."
His command reached my ears just as the sign was about to shoot past. My hand tracked the blur of motion and fired, sending a round straight through the hammered metal. Icarus whipped his head around to judge whether I'd hit the target, and I let my arm fall back to the wheel.
"Jesus Christ." Icarus mumbled as he squinted at the sign. "You got it."
"No she didn't." Cal turned in his seat to try and see for himself.
"Yeah, she completely did. You're just bitter."
"You try. It's impossible. The fact that I could hit the sign at all is good enough."
"If I fired a gun right now, there's a fifty fifty chance that I would accidentally kill one of you or myself. I'm not joking about how shit I am. You're good, Lena is just better."
"Lena is fucking incredible." I commented. "I wonder if the police will be able to tell which one of us shot which sign, since I hit all mine and you fumbled yours."
Icarus chuckled and took a sip of his can. He'd stolen a six pack from an abandoned shopping cart earlier that day. He'd offered either of us some, but Cal didn't like the brand and I had been sober for years.
"You were a college kid before your murder spree right?" Icarus had asked, "How'd you survive without alcohol?"
"After I went on the run, I realized that it put me at a huge risk for little reward." I had explained, "I've killed twenty-four people, and none of them involved me being drunk. I've been shot five times so far, and four of those times I was completely wasted."
Now we were in a position where, despite the relaxed atmosphere, we could be attacked at any moment. Our excuse for a meandering road trip was to try and draw Echo out. She'd come after us first, but with my powers it would be almost impossible for her to have the element of surprise. We were counting on the fact that she'd be better at hunting us down than we would her.
I passed our landmark; a fallen, kudzu covered tree trunk. I spun the car around in a U-turn and began driving back down the highway.
"So when are we going to call it?" I asked my companions, "Echo must know we're here by now, and she hasn't tried anything."
"Maybe she's crouched in a bush somewhere, waiting for us to slow down long enough for her to blast our heads off." Cal suggested through a mouthful of veggie chips.
"We've got to get a plan B at some point." Icarus said, "I can't go on much longer without real food."
"This is real food." Cal objected, still chewing the same massive lump of salt and fat. He held up the crumpled bag. "Look at the nutrition facts. Eat like three servings of this and then some jerky, you're pretty much good to go."
"How the hell are you guys not dead yet?" Icarus asked, "I mean, the gunfights are dangerous but this diet should've killed you years ago."
"We've adapted." I explained while driving, "A single bag of chips to us is as nutritional as a salad to a normal person. Our stomach acid has evolved to dissolve excess fat and convert it to protein."
"Heads up." Cal dropped the bag, sat up, and finally swallowed. "Car."
He was right. In front of us, a black dot had appeared on the horizon, moving in our direction. I stopped weaving in between lanes and slowed to 70. With my elbow, I brushed my gun off of my lap. Cal followed suit, tucking his pistol into his homemade concealed leg holster.
The car drifted towards us. The moment it passed we could relax again, but being the only car in the area put a lot of attention from this newcomer on us. If they saw us toting guns around in a suspiciously nice vehicle, we might get called in.
"Shit, there's more." Cal exclaimed.
Four more cars had arrived, tailing the first one. The group of five fanned out into the lanes, their bulky dark bodies suddenly accelerating in our direction. The first had been a black suv, and so were two of the newcomers. The other two were pickup trucks. I could make out figures sitting in the beds, and tiny guns sitting in their hands.
"This is it." Icarus dropped his bottle and sat upright. "She's not really taking the stealthy approach this time, is she?"
"It might not even be her." I pointed out, "We've made a lot of people angry."
"No, it's her." Cal confirmed. "Passenger seat of the far right suv."
I squinted and made out the form of a person sitting inside the car Cal had described. The figure was slender and I could see the solid gray line of her buzz cut. "I see her."
Cal drew his gun again, and slammed a new magazine in. I picked mine up off of the floor.
"Do I still not get a weapon?" Icarus pleaded.
"Not a gun." Cal answered, "Your metal backpack is in the glove compartment, if you can use it."
"Oh, that'll work." Icarus popped it open and withdrew the golden sheet.
Cal and I watched with interest as he slid it up from the back of his shirt, then used his fingers to pinch clasps shut. I could see the thing conforming perfectly to his body, each strap sliding under his clothes like a plant growing roots. Little bars automatically connected over his skin, weaving an odd chestplate across his torso. I saw his shirt ripple as two long poles slithered up the length of his arms, then snapped across his wrists. Icarus stretched, and the suit followed his movements, as flexible as a second layer of skin.
"Well that looked cool." Cal commented. "What does it do though?"
"You'll see." Icarus looked at me and frowned. "What are you doing?"
I'd been spinning the radio knob, scanning through stations. "Looking for some decent fight music. It's all about the atmosphere." I smiled at his confused expression. "I've been doing this longer than you have, so take my advice. The most important thing in a fight to the death is that you have fun."
I landed on something acceptable, floored the accelerator, and we shot into battle.