Read Online Rogue-ARC by Michael Z. Williamson - Free Book Online Page B

insurance, first aid kits and tools. You can’t fix everything. You can’t stop everything. But you’re better off with a chance. And your chance with this guy means shoot first, shoot second, reload and shoot some more. Distance is your friend, and remember he may dodge when closing. Kung Fu is great, batons are great, and none of it will matter if a vicious guy who can press your mass with one hand gets hold of you. The gun might not even matter. But it’s better than anything else, because it only takes the strength of one finger, and can be done from underneath in a clinch. So says the old guy with five unarmed kills and several hundred deadly shots.”
    She was really looking scared now, as I’d never discussed my past with her in any detail. “You really mean it,” she said.
    “I do,” I nodded. “And the alarms will be active, as will the traps. So let your boyfriend in through the front and don’t sneak him through the window.”
    She flushed red at that. “How’d you know?” she asked. “I thought we were quiet?”
    I tried not to smile. I really did. It was a weak, sickly smile, because this was my little girl and I’m psychopathically protective. Maybe too much Earth “morality” soaked in. I knew she took sex training in school. I knew every boy and girl she’d dated because I’m a paranoid asshole. She had a sex life, but I wanted to pretend it didn’t exist. Stupid, I know. “No one is that quiet in the throes of passion. And I’m not stupid, and footprints on the deck are easy to decipher. So bring him through the front.”
    She nodded, swallowed, and said, “I thought you didn’t like him?”
    “Not really,” I said. “He’s a punk. But you won’t stop seeing him if I tell you to, you’re old enough to make that mistake on your own and learn from it, and frankly, he’s irrelevant to the real problems I’m facing.
    “You’ll sleep in my room,” I said, “because it’s harder to get into from outside. That won’t stop them, but it might slow them down. And I bought that fifteen millimeter Armtech riot gun. Keep it by the bed, and take it with you when driving.” As her face reacted I said, “Yes, I’m leaving you the van. And Andre will be watching, so no stupid stuff. You can get spread in the back if you really want to, but it’s not as comfortable as a bed.”
    “I know,” she said, smiling. She said it just to throw me off guard. Not an image I wanted. But hey, I’d taken the conversation there.
    “Will you screen messages?” she asked.
    I winced. “Probably not.” She looked confused and upset and once again she was my little girl. “Outsystem calls are monitored most places. And there’s few enough of them relatively that they’re easy to trace. Very basic traffic analysis will narrow it down to only calls to the Iota Persei system, and any suspicions will be proven with my pic. So I won’t. Sorry. Andre’s here if you need any help, and here,” I said. I handed over the flashcard. “That’s Marshal Naumann’s ten-div-a-day emergency number. It’s wired into his skull. Don’t call if you don’t have to, but do if you have any confirmable fears. ‘Is that bad enough to call about?’ is a confirmable fear.
    “So call if you need to, but not if you don’t, but don’t hesitate and don’t abuse it,” I said with a grin. “Because one hundred seconds after you call that number, there will be a Black Ops counterterror squad and three battalions of Blazers and Mob surrounding the building. Memorize it and keep the card. Now let’s look at the Armtech.”
    She followed me through to my room. I keep the weapons on a rack in the closet, where I can get to them in a hurry. I have the basic five everyone should have, plus three—now four—more for her. I have my Merrill pistol, a last generation M-5 I bought surplus, subcaliber rimfire practice versions of each and a 20mm Pendleton riot gun, police spec. To her Little Weasel I’d added an Alesis