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  “Machine from the knee down. That is how I know Torrez here. I was run over not three days before the big retrieval from Saudi. Were you one of the unfortunate souls abandoned, like Torrez?”

  “That is Captain Yang,” Torrez said over his client’s shoulder.

  “Fuck me, Sir! No wonder Dr. Gepstein said his most promising work was congregating in Denver,” Becca said, waiting for the old man to finish his transaction before saying more. “What is the pretty one’s name?”

  “Again, I am right here, and my name is Willow. Nice to meet you, Becca,” Willow said and they had a firm shake.

  “Pet or recruit?” Becca asked without context, trying to be sneaky.

  “Willow is an excellent markswoman, can run ten miles, is excellent with knots, and can survive in the woods without getting lost. The bonus is I am confident she is a bombshell under those loose clothes,” I said and Willow scoffed with a rosy blush. The old man left, giving me an odd look. Torrez’s legs whined while he walked to the doors. The big boxy doors creaked and groaned as they partially closed. I turned to my friend, “How you holding up, Torrez?”

  Torrez was five foot eight with dark tan skin. Black hair grew out in shaggy locks that needed a cut. A mustache sat over his lip and a bubbly scar carved down the right side of his neck. He walked in shorts with flesh covers over his mechanical legs. The man had a grenade roll between his legs in Saudi. He sat cross-legged, smothering the explosion, to literally take one for the team. Jevon and I had counter-attacked to give the medic enough time to save his life. Two tourniquets later and who knows how many surgeries later, he survived against some long odds. Dr. Gepstein returned his legs to him and Maria accepted him home as-is.

  Torrez waved an arm at the shop. “This job is a godsend. Jasmine is excited to see me when I come home, and Maria is not trying to force me back into DU.” A grin cracked his tan features. “Willow, was it? Go get changed so you fit in,” Torrez said, tossing Willow an NRA shirt and plain cargo shorts.

  “Is it that bad?” Willow said hesitantly.

  “Not really, just doesn’t hurt to be a Roman when in Rome. If Cap hadn’t mention you were competent, I would be concerned. Grab a pair of boots too. The desert ones,” Torrez said, pointing at a rack of new and used boots.

  “One nickname, let’s not confuse people as we add to the team,” I said.

  “You gonna be running the show?” Becca asked. When I hesitated to answer, she played the recording I had showed Willow earlier. I waited for it to end. She had the same guardian angel that noted her connections had been erased. “Torrez said he had the same final message.”

  “Jevon did as well, did you all get the money?” I asked.

  “A hundred k, I about jizzed in my pants,” Becca said while splaying her fingers wide to mimic an explosion. “Always preferred the term jizz over sploosh. Sue me.”

  “I got a hundred thousand as well.” Torrez chuckled, “How about you, Cap?”

  “Eleven million - same as Jevon,” I said.

  Torrez reacted by running his hands through his hair in frustration. Becca let out a long whistle.

  “Jevon is Captain Moore, correct?” Torrez asked; I nodded.

  “Yeah, see my point? We will probably keep to a first name basis. We’ll let Jevon figure out what he wants to go by. I guess I can go by Yang for now -”

  “You are both Cap and Yang. We need a leader with a recognizable leadership identifier. So, I was on the fence of this being real,” Torrez said and paused when Willow exited the changing curtain. A genuine smile crossed my face and I held out a hand for her to accept. Willow looked ready to go hiking; she had even removed most of her makeup. She accepted my hand and folded into my chest. I nodded for Torrez to continue. “I showed Maria the file. She believed it more readily than I did. She also said the money was our chance to get away. I… I may have argued that it was a trap. A way to rope me into committing a crime -”

  Becca interrupted by slapping her palm hard on his back. Her loud laughter echoed in the enclosed container of the shop. She caught her breath and said, “You’re an idiot, Torrez. Uncle Sam is not going to put some experimental hundred million dollar legs on your body and then give you a hundred K to hang yourself with, silly.”

  “That was what Maria said,” Torrez rolled his eyes. “I was just… This is big and we are home, Cap. We are finally safe. I feel almost normal again,” Torrez finished with a meek tone and slumped shoulders.

  A placed my free arm around my friend’s shoulders and squeezed.

  “Group hug!” Becca squealed, piling in.

  Willow gave a surprised squawk.

  As awkward as the hug was, at that moment, it felt right.

  “I… I shut down when we got home,” I admitted. “I cannot be the hermit loner trying to cope with his past. I have to be an officer now. We are going to prepare like this is the real deal, and then if it is not, I will take full responsibility,” I said, breaking up the hug. “Alright, we have an epic amount of work to complete in the next four days. If you are in, you need to tell your boss you have a family emergency, or better yet, the truth. Becca, what is your status?”

  “Oh, I am staying at the Motel 9 about ten miles west of here. I left with a bag and not much …”

  “Hold on,” I interrupted, and punched up the address of the Motel 9 she was staying at on my Gpad. I booked a dozen rooms. “Okay, will be our rally point for now. We will all stay there, starting tonight. Torrez, take a day or two to prepare your family. Tomorrow, I am going home shopping so you may just move into there. I am getting ahead of myself though.” I turned to our new teammate. “Becca, go buy a truck and a trailer. Electric-only and stuff the back full with ATV’s and dirt bikes. If there are extra solar panel options, get them, with an extended battery life.”

  “Sure thing, Cap,” Becca said, pumping her eyebrows. “I do not have my carry permit for this state, so it is probably best if you do all the gun buying anyway. I am sure you will buy excessively.”

  “After what happened in Saudi, we certainly will,” Torrez said in a disgruntled tone. He went back behind the counter and pulled out an inventory tablet. “Mr. Nasla hates putting his stock on the Gnet where his inventory lists are accessible to the government. He keeps a local copy - for people like us. You have to browse off of this. Ammo will be our biggest concern. Even if we get the new laser rifles, they need power that only being on the grid can quickly provide. Last I saw, a study showed a hundred solar panels took a full day to charge one inducer.” He snorted, “Those weapons have been so overhyped.”

  “I heard President Hansen was buying up all the ammo,” I said, “I do intend to get lots of solar panels, though.”

  “Hey, you guys figure this out. I am off. Nice to meet you, Cap and Willow. See you tonight,” Becca said, exiting the partially closed door.

  “I like her,” Willow said to no one in particular.

  “Yup, she is a keeper. Notice how I gave a few orders and she is off to complete her mission. No endless questioning or quibbling. She definitely will fit right in. I wonder who else Dr. Gepstein will send our way.” I turned back to the lists. “So, what are inventory numbers saying we should purchase?”

  Torrez scoffed, “Cap, not many vets would question your orders. You earned the bars on your shoulder. Not many…” Torrez winced at the direction his thoughts had taken. “How about we talk war stories some other time? We might get all emotional and we need to focus.” He checked the tablet. “We are overstocked on .308 caliber rounds.”

  I nodded, “That will work. I much prefer the harder punch. Our 5.56 was not nearly effective enough.”

  “Well, .308 is the one thing everyone has in stock. Since the assault rifle ban for 5.56 went into effect, it has forced a lot of conversions. If you go back, there was a push to multi caliber systems about a decade ago, so finding carbines and rifles in that caliber won’t be an issue. We will be limited to semi-auto ten round magazines,” Torrez said with an angry
grunt. I frowned. A larger carrying load would be nice, but we could always try to build or modify our magazines down the road. Torrez looked up, “I know, there simply are no other options. Pew-Pew Emporium probably has a few million .308 rounds floating between all the stores and thousands of carbines or rifles that we can use. What were you thinking?”

  “Something standard,” I responded. “Sure, we will have to zero and dial each one in, but shit, if I am constantly firing a Remington .308, I can walk my rounds in. Sure beats picking up an unfamiliar weapon and wondering why the hell the safety is under the scope.”

  “Okay,” he nodded, “anything besides the .308s?”

  “How is fifty cal looking?”

  “There are a few Barrett long rifles in the Gunrific Denver Store at the end of this aisle. All are used older models.” He waved a hand at his sheet, “We have no .50 cal ammo here. We’d need to ask them about ammo, too. You thinking for just in case?”

  I nodded and Willow cleared her throat to indicate she wanted to speak.

  “I have not fired a .308. When I rented weapons at the range, they never stepped me up to that power,” Willow said with a shrug. “Sorry, I don’t want to upset you if I take some time to acclimate.”

  “Well, Maria has never fired a gun at all. I am not too concerned about you having to adapt to the weapons,” Torrez said. He paused and then let out a long sigh. “Everything comes down to ammunition. Even with the reloading tools available today, getting casing has never been harder. We can snatch up a lot of 9mm, but there are limits on purchase amounts. No limits on .308 ammo, though. See … check this out, the Colorado Springs Weaponsmithing & More order list lets me clean out the entire ammo list. We are talking a hundred thousand rounds.” He looked around, “Huh, I wonder where all this is stored.”

  “As much as I like your job and your boss, it might be best to buy from the wholesaler directly. At least for the big stuff. Then again, the more you spend in one place, the fewer headaches we will have,” I said and Torrez shrugged and bobbed his head in agreement.

  “I am due a lunch break anyway. I will close the shop and we can go straight to the big guy. Gunrific is my favorite place in here,” Torrez said, shooing us out of the shop.

  A few curious folks had been waiting to get into the shop. There were some frustrated sighs when Torrez pulled down the conex’s doors and locked the container. I grabbed the old clothes Willow was awkwardly carrying and tossed them in the nearest garbage bin.

  “Did you charge me for those yet?” I asked.

  “I covered them before we left. The cameras track everything and are handled by the security company. They monitor that stuff like hawks,” Torrez said, indicating the nearest camera.

  The machines moving Torrez’s body gave off a unique noise. The whirl of his hips’ servos increased in volume. I was fortunate with my arm, its cover provided a natural camouflage as well as dampening the mechanical noises the covered machine generated. Based on the lack of a reaction, Torrez was no longer affected by the sounds of his cybernetic legs. He told me Jasmine loved them and they used the advanced technology to bond—she loved pretending her Dad was a mech she could pilot. With the store secure, we left for the biggest shop in the Emporium.

  Foot-traffic was light in the central walkway that contained benches and trash cans. The green of a bunch of plants, both fake and real, contrasted with the tang of gun metal that complemented the glare from the shiny white floor. Boot marks scuffed the buffed floors from heavy use. A few consumers carried their purchases in bags, with clothing or gear peeking out the top. Weapons were normally shipped to a confirmed, authorized address after purchase via the drone Gnet. When we passed a dad carrying his little girl, Willow eyes widened with longing. I could only imagine how seeing other happy kids with their fathers would affect me if I had grown up without a dad.

  Afternoon. Howdy. Hello. How are you doing? We heard those frequently in passing. I replied to each greeting with a short response every time, unlike in the park. Those occupying benches and the people conversing outside the stores gave friendly waves that we returned.

  “I love these places. We only went to the Bass Pro in Kentucky and people were just as friendly there,” Willow smiled and put a hand out for a high five from a little boy walking the opposite way. “Mom never let me buy more than a short-range taser and a small twenty-two pistol for self-defense. State law prohibited the weapon from crossing the state lines, so I sold it before I left.”

  “First thing I did after moving here was get my concealed carry. I felt naked without a weapon,” I said, and Willow started to pat me down under my armpits.

  “Wait, I didn’t see anything when you had your shirt off,” she wondered, “and I want to know about those scars at some point … if your gun is not under your pits …” Willow tried to deduce where I concealed the weapon.

  “I am wearing special underwear. My Johnson is tucked to the left and my small pistol to the right. Uncomfortable is an understatement. However, I prefer it to being weaponless.” I slapped at the playful hands that tried to dive into my underwear to verify my story. “Hey! Get your hands out of there. I’ll show you later.”

  “Promise?!” Willow giggled, wiggling her brows in a teasing gesture.

  “Cap, you found a wild one,” Torrez said.

  “Yeah,” I grinned, “Apparently, I make her kitty purr.”

  “Meow!” Willow said, giving air claws.

  “May even get Maria to loosen up,” Torrez laughed. “She has gotten so serious as of late, and I am talking about before this news hit. I really think the ‘mom factor’ is setting in with Jasmine. Funny how much having children can change a person.”

  We arrived at the Gunrific Denver Store, which, compared to all the shipping container shops, resembled a true store. Racks of weapons, sorted by caliber, sat behind glass displays. Those racks were sectioned into aisles by weapon types. Signs hung over every area to clearly identify where to go, if you were hunting for something specific. No guard watched the door when we entered, and a chime alerted the clerks of new customers arriving. We were cheerily welcomed, and I felt like I was in heaven. I happened to have a pile of money burning a proverbial hole in my pocket and this was the perfect place to alleviate my problem.

  CHAPTER 4

  All the wondrous weapons drew my eyes in, competing for my attention. I could not pick a single focal point as my desire to study every weapon consumed me. Torrez nudged me forward to the carbine section with a slight chuckle at my boyish behavior. His fast legs left me behind, forcing a trot to catch up. We reached a browning rack when Torrez muttered and cursed under his breath.

  “Everything okay?” I asked, trying to see what had flustered him.

  “These browning Bar MK3s were an easy choice at seven pounds, short barrels, and ten round quick swap magazines. They are all sold. This whole rack is sold -”

  “Uh oh,” Willow said in a hushed tone. Uh-oh was an understatement. “What does this mean?”

  We stood there in shock. My brows furled and I rubbed my worry lines. Who would have done this? My eyes scanned the store, no longer focused on the awesome weapons. I was looking for another one of Dr. Gepstein patients I might know. When I came up empty, I deflated. The plan I had for weapons shopping was already falling apart. The other stores could get us weapons but they would be lacking uniformity and each team member would end up with a unique set. Unless… I rushed to the checkout counter, desperate for answers.

  “Howdy, how can I help you?” the young man asked. He wore a Gunrific hat, vest, and even a lanyard hung around his neck with the store name and logo.

  “In the market for 308 rounds -”

  “All sold. Something about an apocalypse. I tend to hear that a lot working at a place like this. She was mighty convincing. Especially when she bought the best stuff the store had to offer. I mean all of it, missed her about twenty minutes ago. Came in with these guards you see in the movies. Started waving at whole aisles
as needed purchases. The boss, and I think the owner, were trailing behind her. I doubt I will ever see something so crazy again.”

  My jaw wanted to smack the floor when I pieced together what he was saying. My Gpad pinged an alert. A flick of my eyes to my wrist device said I needed to open a message.

  ‘You should really answer my texts’ - Persephone

  ‘Perci, I told you I needed space to adjust to civilian life. Things have changed, though. I need you to come to Denver. I should have messaged you earlier. I promised I was planning to invite you on Monday. I am sorry.’

  ‘You want me in Denver? Why now?’ - Persephone

  ‘Classified. I need you on my team Perci.’

  ‘You need me? Kinda leading a girl on, aren’t you?’ - Persephone

  ‘I never have done so before, Perci. You know that. I have been nothing but honest and open with you. I need you.’

  ‘Is the pink-haired one a team member or a love interest?’ - Persephone

  My eyes squinted and my teeth ground as my jaw clenched. Finally, everything was starting to make sense. Being played like a puppet was painful and I hoped she had a good reason. The young man behind the counter saw my grimace and frowned.

  “You okay mister?” the clerk asked.

  “Perfectly fine. Need to work on my poker face. What’s your name?”

  “Barry, sir.”

  “She was not crazy, Barry. I hope you prepare. Give me your Gpad.”

  The young man put his Gpad forward and I dumped $9,000 into his account. I left behind his elated eyes of joy as my eyes scanned for my target. A delighted scream drew the attention of the entire store. Perci barreled for me and leaped into my arms. She smelled of roses and I noticed a few things different about her immediately since the last time we had seen each in Saudi. Her flat chest mysterious had grown plump, large boobs. The hair my nose was buried in during our embrace was no longer black; she went light brown with streaks of blonde. Torrez was explaining to Willow who this new woman was as I walked us over to the two. Perci nestled in tighter, not wanting to let go and Willow smirked at me with a raised brow.