Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Basketful of Crap

I finally had the gun situated lengthwise across the whole car. Probably not-subtly, I had my hand on the trigger. I figured an HE round direct against the roof of the car would be really bad for all of us, especially a naked guy.

“What’s your name?” I asked my nudist co-passenger as the car headed off.

“I do not have one,” he responded.

These corporations were some weird stuff.

We drove through the city at a fast clip. After a while we entered a corporation zone and it was clear I would have had issues trying to meet him here. There were APCs and armed soldiers roaming everywhere. At one point we came to an actual roadblock checkpoint.

This could all be a trap. But I wasn’t sure to what end.

Belvaille had been under Navy martial law some years ago and they had poured tens of thousands of soldiers onto the station. It looked about that same level of security in this one area.

There were warehouses and manufacturing facilities here as well as what looked like housing for the soldiers. We stopped outside a building surrounded by troops and the naked man got out.

I checked around to see if there were any obvious signs of an attack.

The driver exited the car as well and I realized I was alone in a big metal box, which made a great target.

I opened the door and got myself and my gun out in about a tenth the time it took me to get in. Though I bent the car door a bit.

Naked Guy was waiting for me on the stairs to a warehouse and I hurried after him. I strapped my autocannon on in front. I wasn’t going to stow it away. Not being neck-deep in soldiers.

The gun wasn’t really designed for walking—wasn’t really designed for anything that Delovoa said it was. I had to lean way back to stabilize it and inch along at maybe half my normal speed.

I felt the canister round would be far better than HE at this point, but I would have to eject the current round, pick that up, reload a canister, and put the HE back or shove it in a pocket.

I suspected they might notice that. Especially the soldiers. I didn’t want to make any moves that might cause them to attack.

The building was a two-story warehouse filled with crates. There was no real second story, just a catwalk going around the top, covered with maybe a half dozen soldiers looking my way.

Walking behind Naked Guy, I had to remark at how much he wasn’t a gang boss. First off, he was naked. He didn’t even have a great body or anything. He wasn’t fit. He wasn’t fat. He was just normal. A boss wouldn’t ever show off unless he had something to show off. This guy was as disarmed as he could possibly be.

They didn’t even let him cut his hair. Now that he was outside of the car and walking, I could see his hair went down to the top of his rear. His beard almost to his navel. He was a hairy Naked Guy.

He had the mannerisms of someone who was subservient. Like everything was boring routine—a butler shining the same cutlery for the thousandth time.

And to top it all off, he didn’t even have a name. He could have been lying about that, but he didn’t seem to be. I had never heard of anyone not using a name. Or nickname. Or fake name. The Colmarian Confederation was a crowded place and we communicated by teles. The days of us simply being able to point at one another were long since gone.

In about the center of the warehouse, Naked Guy stopped.

I was anxious surrounded by all these soldiers. Though I had to admit my autocannon made me feel a lot more secure. I would at least be able to get off one shot—before it flung me across the building and onto my stomach.

“You are to gather a team with the objective of destroying a club,” he said, as if we were continuing a conversation.

“Huh?”

“The Ulzaker-Ses club is to be removed. Its contents demolished. Its inhabitants and employees killed.”

“Whoa. I’m not a murder squad. What’s this about? If there’s a problem I can talk to them. Work something out. That’s what I’m best at.”

“There is nothing required or requested from them other than their elimination.”

I stood there thinking about that. I had not been expecting this at all. I had been a hitman before, but usually for a reason. A gang war. Some act of retribution. But not going into a club and gunning people down.

“I can’t do that,” I said finally. Even if it meant this trip could get nasty. “I can’t kill everyone who happens to be at a club. That’s just…people don’t do that on Belvaille.”

He gazed at me for some time. His black eyes didn’t change. His manner didn’t change. His nakedness didn’t change.

I was waiting for him to signal the troops. Do something. I was ready.

“What if it were late in the morning?” he said again, his voice not inflecting. “If there was no one inside?”

“I can torch an empty club, sure.” I was going to say that he didn’t need me for that when he had a zillion soldiers, but he was offering money.

“The club may be on alert, regardless. They may have security personnel.”

I supposed they had been fighting already. This was just some ongoing strife. One of the corporations taking over another gang outfit. I didn’t know who owned that particular club, it was relatively new.

“And you won’t let me try and work a deal? I could get you the place for a price, I’m sure. Maybe even less than you’re looking to spend on this hit.”

“This is the contract that is to be assigned.”

I sighed.

“I’m going to need help, then. Do you know how many people they have on security?”

“Approximately thirty.”

“Thirty?” That was huge. Whoever it was they were fighting had some money and wasn’t going quietly. I guess that’s why the corporation was coming down so hard. Maybe they had already tried the soft touch and it had escalated to here. To me.

“I’m going to need to hire a lot of people then. What about these guys?” I asked, indicating some of the soldiers standing on the catwalks.

“They have responsibilities already and can’t be put at risk.”

Yeah, let the riffraff fight each other. Fine.

“I’m going to need to hire like…” I fluttered my lips, blowing air out as I thought. “Fifty people. And we’ll need gear.”

“How much will you require?”

I just didn’t see how it was doable. A one-off job like that would be too much money. That’s why you had gangs to begin with. No one could afford to make and equip an entire gang just for a week’s work.

“You’re asking too much. Even if I could find guys that had their own weapons, going up against potentially thirty armed guys who are prepared, they’re going to want ten thousand at least.”

The naked man went to a tele on a nearby container and punched in some numbers. He came back with a token and handed it to me.

“Is this sufficient?”

It was two million credits. Two million! I was holding two million credits in my hand on an anonymous token. I could hop on a shuttle right now, rent passage on any ship, and become a well-off person on nearly any other planet in the Confederation.

That was a testament of how much money it was that not three seconds after I received it, I was immediately thinking of embezzling. I had never stolen money from any job. But maybe that was also an indication of what Belvaille had become.

What were these corporations? How could he just give me two million credits to be rid of a silly club? Money was just some completely different animal to them. I couldn’t fathom the ease of it. The Colmarian Navy was willing to pay a million for a stolen super-weapon and a corporation was willing to pay twice that for a bonfire.

I could buy the club with this and tell everyone inside to get lost—and they would do so gladly with this much cash.