Revenant Read online

  Revenant

  Animus™ Year Two Book Two

  Joshua Anderle

  Michael Anderle

  Revenant (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2019 Joshua Anderle and Michael Anderle

  Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design

  http://jcalebdesign.com / [email protected]

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, March 2019

  Contents

  Revenant

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Late Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Author Notes

  Books by Michael Anderle

  Connect with The Authors

  Revenant Team

  Thanks to the JIT Readers

  Nicole Emens

  James Caplan

  Jeff Eaton

  Kelly O’Donnell

  Misty Roa

  John Ashmore

  Larry Omans

  If I’ve missed anyone, please let me know!

  Editor

  The Skyhunter Editing Team

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  to Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  to Live the Life We Are

  Called.

  Revenant

  Chapter One

  The atmosphere at the market wasn’t exactly what one would call bustling. Admittedly, though, an underground market that specialized in stolen tech, illegal weapons, and men who offered rather shady and often violent services was probably a place that wouldn’t attract a very social crowd.

  Despite the somewhat subdued undertone, a man hummed merrily to himself as he hurried along the fourth row of vendors and strode toward his destination with a firm but light step.

  He stopped outside a shoddy structure comprised of what appeared to be crudely cut ship parts and various pieces of metal hastily soldered together to create a storefront. The man retrieved a tablet, looked down at it and back at the store, and smiled to himself. He put the device away and opened the door.

  The sound of a pistol priming—a Dredd model by the sound of the charging core—immediately caught his attention. He focused his gaze on four men who stared at him with threatening scowls and flared nostrils. His smile widened once he saw the Dredd in the hands of one of the men, pleased to see he still had had the knack of being able to identify a weapon simply by its sound.

  He stepped toward the counter of the store but one of the men stopped him.

  “Can I help you?” he asked and didn’t sound like he wanted to be particularly helpful in the least.

  “I’m sorry if I’m a little late,” the newcomer stated and tapped the rim of his glasses. “The traffic was more of a catastrophe than I had expected it would be. You really have the riff raff here in Florida.”

  Another man kicked a box over and spat on the ground and the customer made a note to make sure to step around it. “Are you making a joke, punk?” he snapped.

  The man tilted his head as he considered the question in silence for a moment or two. “I don’t think so, but maybe humor is simpler down here. That’s understandable, I suppose.”

  Before the aggressor’s veins could throb any harder with his indignation, a door at the rear of the shop opened. The older gentleman who entered had long, curling hair, the black interspersed with strands of grey. He was dressed in a grey and blue body suit with a wraparound ocular device on his head. “Are you the five o’clock?” he asked nonchalantly, seemingly oblivious of the four goons.

  “That I am,” the newcomer confirmed. “It’s good to finally meet you, Mr. Vinci.”

  “Likewise.” He lowered his hands to signal to the others to calm down. “Sorry about the greeting my friends gave you. We’ve had some issues with new customers from the Red Suns. They are a little antsy.”

  “No worries at all.” The man moved toward the counter once the guard in front of him had lowered his arm. “I can understand a degree of grandstanding. It takes guts to set up shop in a place like this, and it takes smarts to keep them inside you.”

  “Speaking of which…” A large hand settled heavily on his shoulder. “Don’t think you are going in the back without getting frisked.”

  The man peered back and the movement revealed glowing artificial eyes over the top of his shades, which thoroughly startled the guard. “How kind of you to offer, and on our first meeting no less.” He turned to the proprietor. “This is fantastic customer service.”

  Vinci chuckled as he took his visitor’s tablet and placed it on the counter. The guard frowned but said nothing as the man turned and held his hands up. “Besides the tablet, I have two blades on my person,” he explained as the guard began his search. “On the left is simply your basic omni-blade, holstered inside its switcher.”

  The guard unclipped the device from the visitor’s belt and examined it with surprise. “Look at this thing,” he all but shouted and turned to show it to the other three. “This is unreal. It can hold up to a dozen different blade types and it has a hard-light generator.”

  “It allows me to create hard-light versions of any personal blade I need, as well as adapt a few different qualities such as temperature and sharpness,” the man bragged and folded his arms smugly. “Among other things. Nifty, right?”

  “Put your hands back up,” the guard snapped as he tossed the omni-blade and switcher to one of the other goon in the front. “What else you do you have?”

  “You’ll find my pride and joy on my right,” he responded and cocked his hip while he raised his hands into the air once more. “I call her Macha. She’s been with me for almost a decade now. A piece of advice to you boys—get yourself a girl or guy that’s as useful as she is, and you’ll live a much happier life.”

  The guard took the blade from the other side of his belt and unsheathed it to reveal a curved blade with a line of jagged notches in it. “It doesn’t look like much, especially compared to that omni-blade.”

  “The omni has it’s tricks and is fun in its own way,” he admitted. “But that one’s a fairly recent acquisition. I’ve only had it about a year. Macha has been with me since I discovered my current passion. It’s extremely difficult to find the right blade type, but it’s damn st
urdy and sharper than likan fangs and cleans easily, too.” The guard replaced the blade in its sheath and tossed it behind him, then continued his search. “I’ve only had to change the blade out twice. Once was a few years back—wear and tear and all, quite literally in my case.” The guard tried to block him out as he patted down his legs. “The other time was recently, though. I got it stuck in a hard place while on a trip in the Amazon.”

  The guard stood to check his arms. “What’s with the boots?” he asked. “They feel like they are made for heavy armor.” He tugged at the man’s arms. “And these gloves are super tight.”

  “That would be because they are wraps, not gloves,” he stated. “I could unwind them for you.”

  “Does you no good to hide a blade if you can’t get to them if a fight broke out,” he muttered, “This can’t be all you have. You come down to a crypto bazaar with nothing but a couple of blades? Are you insane?”

  “You don’t deal with places like this often, do you?” another man one spat asked. “There might be a general understanding between those of us who make our living down here, but you outsiders don’t get the same treatment. You’d make an easy mark for a thief or merc looking for some liquor cash.”

  The man smoothed his jacket, adjusted his belt, and slid one hand into it as he leaned back on the counter. “I usually don’t. I’m accustomed to finding what I need in other places or simply making it myself. But I needed something a little special.” He pointed to Vinci. “And I heard that Mr. Vinci here could get me exactly what I needed.”

  “And I can’t wait for you to see it, Mr. Sonny,” the hacker said with barely restrained glee. “I’ll get to the specifics shortly. Follow me into the back.”

  “Certainly. Assuming we are done here?” He looked at the guard, who studied him once more.

  “Do you have anything else on you? If you try to pull a fast one, you can be sure we’ll deal with you with our own personal touch.”

  “And I’m sure you’ll really get those knots out.” He chuckled. “As for weapons, nothing else but my arms and legs. I’ve heard I have an impressive punch, but unless you wanna take those off, I can’t say I have anything else.”

  The guard grabbed him by his jacket. “If you’re playing us, that’s exactly the first thing we’ll do.” He released him abruptly. “Get in there and don’t waste his time. He’s not only a tech cracker but our division leader. His time is important.”

  The customer tugged on his jacket and nodded without losing his smile. “I won’t take up any more time than is necessary.” He clapped his hands in front of the guard. The sound was evidently much louder than the man had expected as he dipped his head back quickly. “I Promise.” He turned and followed Vinci into his personal quarters.

  As the door shut, the guard huffed and walked over to the others. “What a damn creep.”

  “He wouldn’t stop smiling. I’d like to beat those teeth down his throat myself,” another one muttered and glanced at a third man who looked away, his expression thoughtful. “Is something wrong, Mick?”

  “Huh? It’s noth— Well, I guess not nothing. But Mr. Vinci called him Sonny. Is that name familiar to any of you?”

  “I’m terribly sorry about those boys, Mr. Sonny,” Vinci said in hasty apology and offered him a chair. “Like I mentioned, times have somewhat tense and they are still getting used to their duties. I had hoped they would be less green by now. I’m not sure if they had the slightest clue who they were addressing, or even if they are smart enough not to back talk if they did.”

  “No worries, good sir. And you can simply call me Gin,” he stated affably as he sat and crossed one leg over another before he leaned back. “Manners are nice and all, but I prefer friendly to formal.”

  “It’s good to work with someone who’s more relaxed,” Vinci admitted. He took hold of a screen on a crane, pulled it down to the table, and activated a holoboard underneath it. “That’s not the kind of clients who usually request my services.”

  “A pity. I don’t have that luck much either,” Gin commiserated, leaned forward, and propped his chin in one hand as he looked at the screen. “Granted, I haven’t worked for more than one person in the last several years, but back in my merc days, my superiors were drags.”

  “I don’t have to interact with mine that much.” The hacker typed on the keyboard. “Only a monthly status report and earnings and all that, and other than that, I might have to hack into the odd device or two. Otherwise, I run a stable operation down here.”

  “Meeting guys like you shows that life can be so beautiful sometimes,” Gin mused. “You’d probably be a white-hat, running ops for a corp or something if you didn’t have that pesky record of yours. It would’ve been a hell of a lot harder to find someone to handle my little project.”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure I would have taken the opportunity anyway. I prefer my freedom. Chains can be metaphorical or preferable if your choice is prison or working with some of those world council divisions.”

  “I take it you were given the offer?”

  “And I laughed for weeks.” Vinci nodded, a small smile on his lips. “I was able to get into the good graces of a Doxvod leader during my stint, which got me here. Much better, in my opinion.”

  “Except for the stooges, I would think.” Gin glanced meaningfully at the door.

  “If they give you any trouble, feel free to do what you must.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Not too attached, huh?”

  “Customer service. I can’t have them making one of my new customers think this is a place that would allow such idiocy,” Vinci reasoned and moved the screen to show it to his client. “Here are the schematics and the functions of the cracked EI you requested.”

  Gin leaned in closer, studied the screen intently, and whistled. “That’s a lot of coding. You did this all in two weeks?”

  “Would you believe this is one of the longest projects I’ve had in almost five years?” The hacker chuckled. “Most of the time, it can take hours or a couple of days at most. You really gave me something to get my fingers tapping.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. What do I owe you?”

  “One million even.”

  Gin tapped a finger thoughtfully on his chin. “From our initial conversation, I expected more than triple that amount.”

  Vinci offered the other man his tablet. “It’s a discount for giving me such an interesting project and for being such a pleasant man to work with.”

  “I guess a little kindness goes a long way, huh?” Gin took the tablet and transferred the money, his expression eminently satisfied. “This will work wonderfully.”

  “Don’t do anything too naughty with it,” the other man said with a knowing, playful tone as he unlocked a domed device. The two sides separated and revealed a chip, which he placed into a box and handed to Gin.

  “You should know someone like me can’t promise that.” He pocketed the chip and stood quickly. “I mean, why would I order it otherwise?”

  Vinci laughed as he made his way to the exit. “Good point!” He opened the door and nodded at Gin as he left.

  Gin retrieved his tablet and placed it in his jacket as he made his way to the guards. “It’s finished, boys. I’ll take my things now.”

  “We don’t think so,” their leader growled and earned a curious look from the customer and a sigh from Vinci.

  “What the hell are you doing?” the hacker protested. “He’s paid in full and done nothing suspicious. Do you lot want me to report you?”

  “This guy isn’t on the up and up, Vinci!” another man declared and held the omni-blade up. “Look at this thing. There’s no way he could have something like this. You can’t even get one on the black market. It’s way more advanced than anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “And I’m sure that your knowledge is vast,” Gin muttered. “If you must know, I stole it from a tactical and security division tech development facility. Ironically, it’s not that well sec
ured.”

  “Tac-Sec? You broke into a Tac-Sec facility by yourself? Bullshit,” the man scoffed. “We were thinking—”

  “Congratulations.”

  “Shut up!” the guard snapped and grabbed Gin’s neck. “You’re a spook, aren’t you?!”

  “I can assure you he isn’t. He’s—” Vinci tried to warn them but stopped as Gin held up a hand.

  “I suppose I never did properly introduce myself to you. My bad.” He removed his glasses and the other guards recoiled, unnerved by his eyes. “Perhaps I could give it another go so that we can be properly acquainted?”

  “This guy is a damn idiot,” one man gasped. “Boss, we can’t have a guy like him with our tech? What if it gets traced back to us?”

  “Do you think I’m that sloppy?!” Vinci barked. “Don’t besmirch me because you are a bunch of paranoid idiots.”

  “Still, it’s best to be rid of him. We have the money, right?” the guard said with a smirk and held Gin’s own knife to his face

  “You are really committed to this aren’t you?” Gin groused as he looked at both him and the blade in boredom.

  “If you hadn’t pissed me off—like you’re doing now—I might have let you walk out of here,” he stated. “Like I said, outsiders don’t get the same treatment in the bazaar. You gotta be a killer to even set foot in a place like this and expect to leave.”