Dream Drive Ch. 07

Gary Morgan looked up from his chair. "Sorry, I broke that."

Mivra slammed the door shut with a tiny flick of her wrist. "Appropriate force fixes most problems."

"Holy shit," Gary said. He stared at Charles. "Are you Charles Ransfeld?"

Charles smiled brightly. "The one and only."

Gary reclined in his chair, putting his arms behind his head. He folded a thick leg over the other. "Damn, man. I never believed all those conspiracy theories, but I guess you guys are pretty fucked up over here. Kidnapping people and holding them against their will? When I get out of here, I'm bringing this fucking place down."

"I seriously doubt that."

Gary laughed. His belly fat jiggled slightly. "What're you gonna do, cut my balls off? The old guy with half his teeth missing already tried that. I'm still hanging loose." Gary shifted his hips to emphasize his intact equipment. "By the way, nice android. She's hot."

Charles glanced at Mivra. She looked like a block of ice with red lips stuck on the front. He forced his smile wider and looked back to Gary. "I understand your name is Gary Morgan?"

"The one and only."

"There are 98 other men in the GAU named Gary Morgan," Mivra said. "You are not unique."

"Is that a threat?"

Charles sighed. "She can get testy when people treat her like an object."

"She's an android. What do you expect? I guess you can afford a serious personality chip, though. And big tits. But I don't think those are as expensive."

"Not particularly."

Morgan sat up straight. "Hey, you want to know about Isis, right? That's what this is about?"

"I do."

"Alright," Gary said. "I want your android to suck me off. I'll talk after my blowjob. And maybe a tittyfuck, too."

Charles heard the slight grating sound of metal and plastic. Mivra's hands had curled up into fists.

Charles tended to challenge Mivra. He liked to push her. He liked to make a person that had a computer for a brain think. He enjoyed those moments in which she wasn't sure what facial expression to create with her motorized muscles.

He was always very careful not to go too far. Charles wasn't above rubbing salt into the wounds for the sake of personal amusement, but pissing off an AI seemed like an extremely bad idea.

Charles cleared his throat loudly in an effort to dispel the bad air. "Mr. Morgan --"

"Gary's fine, thanks. Mind if I call you Chuckie?"

Charles took a long, slow breath, then revived his smile. "Gary, then. You guessed correctly. This is about Isis." Charles pointed at the pentagram scar carved into Gary's left hand. "We've been down some bad roads lately. You've demonstrated that will get us nowhere. I'm a compromising man, but I need something before I can give back. So what's going on?"

"You want to know?" Gary said. "It's deep shit, Chuck."

"I understand that."

"Well, it's all only a blowjob away. Time to get your money's worth out of the sex object." He raised a hand when Charles started to protest. "Come on, dude, she doesn't have those tits because you like to think of her as your mother. Then again, who knows? Some people are into that shit."

"Mr. Ransfeld," Mivra said. Her voice had all the warmth of a hailstorm. "Perhaps you could leave the room and let me handle this."

"See, there you go," Gary said. He hadn't been around Mivra as much as Charles; he did not detect the deadly level of sarcasm hidden in her tone. "Leave the room and let her handle me."

"There won't be any sexual activity in your immediate future, Gary," Charles said.

"Why not?" Gary said. "You need to learn to share your toys. I'm an open-minded guy. You want to do her together?"

"Gary," Charles said, "I'm very, very tired of dealing with this situation. I'm frustrated by the fact that I don't know what you know. And you're really..." Charles made a big smile. "Well, you're really pushing my buttons."

Gary glanced at the silvery one-way window. "Come here. I don't want those other bastards hearing. Not after what they did to me."

"Alright." Charles moved closer.

"I get the android after, alright?"

"That depends on the consistency of your good behavior."

Gary waved his hand. "I'm gonna whisper. Don't be shy, I'm not gay or anything."

Alarm bells were ringing in Charles's head, but he ignored them. They had nothing; he needed to take a risk. He stepped forward.

Gary leapt from his chair faster that Charles would have believed a man of that size could move. His right fist came in.

He was fast, but he didn't have any experience. Charles saw the punch telegraphed as soon as Gary's feet hit the ground. Charles turned away from the attack, intending to catch the hand once it went by and lock Gary into a throw.

Gary's palm blazed white.

Charles was blinded by the light; he squinted out of reflex. Before he knew it, there was an arm around his neck. Gary pressed up behind him. "No homo," he said. He clinched his hold with his other hand, applying a little more pressure. "No sudden movements, Chuckie. You guys aren't playing nice, so I consider that free reign to do whatever the hell I want."

Charles looked to Mivra. Her legs were spread and bent; a long blade projected from one of her wrists. A gun was protruding from a slot on the other arm. It was aimed directly at Gary's head. "Release him immediately," she said, "or I will use lethal force."

"Careful, babe. You wouldn't want to hit Chuckie by mistake."

"How did you do that?" Charles croaked.

"Special abilities, my friend. I leveled up my hand-to-hand skills. That was a grapple."

"What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, you're not a gamer. Amazing what a few hundred points in Agility can do for a guy." Gary looked at the window. "Hey, you fucks out there! Open the door or I break Chuckie's neck. Sweet cheeks, put the toys away and back off."

Charles looked at Mivra and did the best he could to shake his head. The silvery blade retracted into her arm with a threatening schick sound. She lowered the gun to her side and took a few steps back.

"Great. Boys, get the door." The door rattled, then creaked open. Steinson moved into the room and held it there.

Charles kept his hands at his sides. If Gary did whatever he did again, he might have a broken neck before he could react. "So, Gary," he said, "what's the gameplan?"

"Gameplan? We walk out the front door, that's what. And if you cooperate, I won't kill you."

"That seems..." Charles coughed. "A little harsh."

"You guys tried to cut my balls off. You don't think that's fucking harsh?"

"Fair enough," Charles said. "So, you walk out the front door. And then you're in the middle of Boston, naked, with one single hostage the only thing between you and a very painful capture and imprisonment. Holding me like this won't stop you from getting shot in the back."

"Enough of the bullshit," Gary said. "Hey, Mr. Universe. You keep the door open like that and don't move."

Steinson nodded. "I'm not moving."

"Good. Robot chick, do me a favor and make sure there's a VTOL on the roof. Chuckie convinced me the front door wasn't a good idea."

"I don't have access to outside public transportation networks."

"Don't shit me!" Gary shouted. "There's VTOLs taking off and landing on every skyscraper all day. Jack someone else's if you have to. Just make sure there's a dude with a car waiting. And where the hell is my Dream Drive?"

"One demand at a time," Steinson said. "I'll call for the car. Just take it easy."

"Dream Drive." Gary squeezed harder. Charles swallowed against the pressure on his neck. "Make sure my Drive is in that car."

"You got it."

"That's more like it." Gary took a step forward. "March, Chuckie. Nice and easy toward the door. Don't try anything."

Charles shuffled forward as best as he could. It was slow going. "How far do you think you'll get in a VTOL?"

"Far enough."

"The whole Boston police force is going to be after you."

"Not unless you want to die, they won't. Stop talking."

They reached the door. Gary forced Charles to edge sideways so that they could pass through. They took it one step at a time.

"So," Charles said, "Gary. I think we got off on the wrong foot. Let's reconsider this from --"

Gary tightened his grip, choking Charles off. "Shut up before I permanently shut you up. And keep --"

Charles pushed off his mechanical leg, shoving Gary into the doorframe. He brought both his elbows back as hard as he could, driving them into either side of Gary's gut. At the same time, he snapped his head back, landing a blow straight on Gary's teeth.

The combination was enough to get Gary to loosen his grip. Charles brought both arms back up and shoved Gary's lock loose. He dropped away from the hold and threw himself out of reach. Steinson's roundhouse kick brushed by Charles's ear even as he was falling to the ground.

Gary took the kick straight to the cheek. He bent to the side, then stopped. He stood there for a moment, a shoe planted in his face. He grabbed Steinson's leg.

Mivra hit him full-body in the side. Gary was a big man, but he couldn't withstand a veritable missile of steel and plastic. Mivra jammed her blade into his gut and shoved him out the door and into the entrance room of the isolation chamber.

Charles was up again. Light flickered. He heard a sound like tearing metal. He rushed through the door, half a step behind Steinson.

Mivra and Gary were circling each other; the rest of the men were backed up against the walls of the observation room, pistols drawn and pointed. Mivra's suit and skirt were torn down the side; a black scar marked her skin. Gary's right hand was balled into a fist and glowing white. He glanced at the doorway out into the hall.

"You're already surrounded," Miller said. The small man stepped forward, arms neatly folded behind his back. "Give it up before we're forced to hurt you."

"Haven't we been through this?" Gary said. "I won't hold back this time."

"Then there is no need to modulate my force," Mivra said. Her pistol arm adjusted with robotic precision; she fired. Everyone winced as the explosion of the gun echoed through the room.

Gary glanced down at the red haze on his leg where the bullet had struck. It faded over a few seconds.

Charles watched him carefully, trying to predict what he'd do next. Gary's head didn't move, but his eyes shifted, narrowed. Focused. He was looking at something. Charles tried to follow his gaze, but as far as he could tell, Gary was just staring at the wall.

Gary snorted as his redness from the bullet disappeared entirely. "Gonna take more than that to stop me."

Mivra rushed him. Gary's hand started to move in a simple punch. Mivra's head bobbed away -- but Gary's hand followed, moving as if he'd already known how she'd dodge. The white light flared.

Unlike with Charles, that wasn't enough. Mivra was faster than the fastest human. The punch carved a black line across her cheek, but it didn't stop her.

She rammed her blade home into his chest. The breath rushed out of Gary's mouth. He stumbled backward and started beating his hands on her back, trying to shake her loose.

Charles kept watching, looking for an opening. Gary's eyes weren't on his attacker, but on something behind her -- above? Charles glanced the way he was looking. Nothing -- just the ceiling.

Gary grunted and stopped Mivra's momentum. With her blade still being twisted in his chest, he forced her backward. The pistons in Mivra's legs whined as they locked in place.

Gary built up speed. Men ducked out of the way. He slammed Mivra into the opposite wall.

Mivra was tenacious. She kept her free hand latched on Gary's shoulder; her nails were like little blades on their own. Her main weapon started buzzing, carving a hole where it was stuck, but Gary kept shoving her against the wall as if he couldn't even feel it.

Mivra's pistol folded back into her arm. A plate on the center of her palm opened; a metallic prong extended out. She jammed it into Gary's neck.

A blue spark of electricity arced across Gary's face. His arms and legs convulsed. He went slack, slid off Mivra's blade, and collapsed to the floor.

Mivra stood straight. "Nonlethal takedown measures seem to be more effective," she announced.

"Get him back in the room," Charles said, "and tie him down." He rubbed his freed neck and watched their incapacitated captive. Gary's chest was rising and falling; he groaned a bit as they started shifting him. "How the hell is he still alive?"

"I don't know," Mivra said.

"If that had gone differently, your father would have been extremely upset," Miller said. He watched the men drag Gary back to his chair.

"My father will be dead within a week," Charles said. He smiled brightly. "At least I got a first-hand demonstration."

"Hmph." Miller started into the holding room. "He didn't show all his cards, earlier. I'll make sure he can't move any limbs."

Mivra's weapons folded back into her hands and arms. She moved to stand next to Charles. "Mr. Ransfeld. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"I am concerned, sir."

Charles wasn't concerned for himself. His mind was racing. Gary had taken two elbows, a headbutt to the face, and a roundhouse kick to his face as if it was nothing. He'd been stabbed twice and shot in the leg. The only thing that put him down was 40 milliamps from Mivra's stun attachment, and even then, he'd probably be fine after another minute.

But there was something else. What was it that Gary was looking at? There was something only he could see. Something he was checking.

"Mr. Ransfeld. Are you sure you're alright?"

Charles put a hand over his mouth. Something Gary could see, but they couldn't. It might be a virtual overlay. A contact lens? No, they would have checked for that already. Something to do with Isis, then.

Yeah, you're not a gamer.

"Charles?"

He glanced at her. Mivra was still watching him. She'd used his name. "I'm fine, Mivra. Thank you for your concern."

The android manufactured a frown, and then her features returned to neutral. She looked through the cracked window where they were strapping Gary into his chair. Her military bun was frazzled. "I am not sure how we will be able to threaten him. The report said he lived alone. He is unemployed and lives on government disability payments and winnings from game competitions. He has no close family."

"Disability? I'm more disabled than he is."

"Perhaps his newfound powers assisted in his condition," Mivra said.

The implications of that slowly filtered through Charles's brain.

"...is our motion on Crux Software almost ready?"

"Everything is prepped for tomorrow night."

"Where is his Dream Drive?"

"It is in this office."

"Retrieve it. We're going to have another go at conversation with Mr. Morgan."

"I advise against it. I can speak with him alone."

"I'm doing this myself," Charles said.

"Your concern for Rachel is making you impulsive. You should never have entered the room in the first place."

"This is important."

"I don't want you to get hurt," Mivra said.

Charles looked at her. Mivra's face was as cold and still as it ever was. But those black eyes seemed soft. "You'll just have to do a good job of protecting me," he said.

"If you insist."

"I do. More importantly," Charles said, "he hurt you. That doesn't get a pass."

"I do not feel pain, sir. Not beyond indications that my functions have been impaired."

Charles reached out and took Mivra's chin in his hand. Her eyes opened slightly in the barest hint of surprise. She didn't resist as he turned her cheek, inspecting her closely. The black line from Gary's punch lingered on the surface of her skin.

"He hurt you," Charles repeated. He smiled; his tone was bright. Cheery. "I am going to extract what we need from him, and then I am going to destroy him for having the temerity to dare touch you."

"Oh," Mivra said.

Charles let her chin go. He turned and marched into the room with a determined stride. Mivra was just behind him.

They had done better than tie Gary to his chair; they had also tied his chair to a hook on the ceiling. Steinson and another man worked to hoist him up a few inches at a time.

"Clear out, everyone," Charles said. "Mivra, you stay."

"Yes, Mr. Ransfeld," Mivra said.

"Charles," Miller said, "you've learned the hard way once already. As your security adviser, I'm telling you to leave it to me."

"Overruled," Charles said. "But I appreciate it. I've figured out his little weakness."

Miller frowned, but when Charles continued to smile, he smirked. "Alright, that's enough! Leave it there!"

They filed out of the room. Steinson paused at the door. "Mr. Ransfeld, maybe I can stick around. Just as a little insurance?"

"Oh, why not?" Charles said. "I do enjoy your enthusiasm."

Steinson grinned. He sensed his boss's improving mood. "You got it, sir."

"You've made some sort of connection," Mivra said. "I do not understand."

"You will. Momentarily."

Gary stirred. His eyes fluttered. He gave his head a shake. "Damn. That felt weird." He started to shift around, and then he realized his position a few feet off the ground. He glanced at where his arms were strapped to the chair.

"Are you ready to answer my questions?" Charles said.

"Sorry," Gary said, "I'm a little fucking tied up at the moment."

Charles slapped him across the face, hard, with the flat of his palm.

Gary winced. His cheek turned red -- not with the redness of that strange ability, but the flushed red of inflammation. "Shit, ow! What was that for?"

"Heh. I was right." Charles slapped him again.

"Hey, fuck you, man! That hurts!"

"No. This will hurt." Charles turned his body and threw his weight into it, slapping his palm forward as if it was a punch. Gary's head snapped to the side; his hanging chair rocked from the force. He grunted in pain.

"Hey..." Steinson leaned up off the door. "That's actually hurting him."

"No fucking shit!" Gary said. "Why are you --" Charles slapped him again. Gary swung on his chair, his cheek now blossoming purple. "What the fuck?"

Charles slapped him.

Gary swore. Tears were welling up in his eyes. "Fuck you, man. Fuck."

Charles slapped him twice as punishment for swearing twice over.

"Shit, that hurts. Shit."

Charles backhanded him with his other hand, then slapped him again before he came down from his latest swing. He started laughing. "Now that I get it, it's actually funny," he said.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Gary said. "You got some kind of shitty bondage fetish?"

"That's two more coming your way."

"The fuck?"

"Make that three." Charles looked back at Mivra and Steinson. "Do either of you have a knife?"

Mivra shook her head. "My detachable blade is currently nonfunctional."

"I got one." Steinson flicked a blade out from somewhere in his suit. He offered the handle to Charles.

Charles took it, turned back to Gary, and stabbed the knife into his stomach. A red haze surrounded where the blade entered his bare skin. Charles twisted it slightly. "Mind if I just leave that there?"

"Be my fucking guest," Gary growled.

"That's four, now. Don't you ever learn?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"Five."

"Fuck you!"

"Six. You're really racking them up."

Gary went slack in his bonds. He was hopelessly lost.

Charles crouched down so he was looking up at the plump man hanging in his chains. He hammered on the butt of the knife with his fist. Gary grimaced slightly, but he didn't call out.

Charles stood, then slapped him across the face again. Gary made a sound somewhere between another grunt and a whimper.

"It seems you've lost a touch of confidence," Charles said. "Didn't you want that blowjob?"

"Fuck you!"

"You were down to five, and you're right back up to six."