The trio moved into the War Room to consult the breakdown of the assault.

  Two large groups were attempting to breach the main entrance into the bunker. They had already destroyed the first door with explosives and were now engaged with security forces. Another smaller group was attempting to hack into a more discreet access point located a mile or so away. There was even a crew coming up from the sewer access pipes. Finally, what looked like a lone wolf descending cautiously but steadily through the Safe House’s maze of airducts.

  That was one to keep an extra close eye on.

  “I’ll take the main group out front,” Lowell said, “Ignasius, you handle our hackers. Gondo, see if you can find this rat in the air ducts. Bring the heat. They won’t take my bunker without a fight.”

  Gondo and Ignasius peeled off into the darkness.

  Lowell used the outer cams and drones to study the breaching parties. They recognized the insignia of the larger of the two groups belonging to Bakshi Star Unlimited, a well-known military contractor, with a prestigious background of mass slaughter and genocide. Facial scans from the second group matched confirmed members of the Yakuza.

  “So, the greatest syndicate on Luna and the most bloodthirsty paramilitary organization on the globe have both come to play,” Lowell said.

  When it came to intel the A.E.C. was sorely lacking. They preferred big, bold actions. Farming this job out to the independent operators was a keen strategic move on Krueger's part.

  Explosions from above shook the underground base as Lowell did a deep dive on the history between both organizations. A bar fight between members in an asteroid bar. Allegations of a stolen Bakshi shipment by the Yakuza. Ah, there it was: “Romantic Entanglement Between Leaders of Yakuza and Bakshi Leaves Sixty-Three Slain”. Apparently top members of both groups were involved with a famous erotic dreamer, Yumi Chinatsu.

  Lowell spared a glance at the gate monitors and saw a Bakshi soldier lining up a shoulder mounted rocket launcher shot at the entrenched security forces. On another cam a heavily tattooed Yakuza member loaded into a spiky mech suit with drilling claws and began heading for the gate.

  They read on to learn that a love triangle between a Bakshi commander and a Yakuza general had been sizzling in the news feeds for weeks. The bearded commander matched a scan from the paramilitary forces, and another scan of the Yakuza crew noted the young general amongst their ranks.

  Lowell hacked into the communication networks of the attacking hosts, and utilizing AI voice modulator software, created a patch based on the rival's voices.

  Just then in the commander’s headset the voice of the young general broke through, “I thought that might be you, you cowering bastard. Yumi is safe with me, as will be the bounty!” Lowell said into a microphone.

  A moment later the Yakuza general heard the gruff voice of the commander in his ears as Lowell spoke, “Looks like you’re just as terrible in combat as Yumi says you are in the bedroom, scoundrel!”

  Lowell then connected the two feeds directly and turned to the cams. They saw a signal from both leaders to halt their troops. Both the commander and the general heatedly yelled into their comms. Lowell grinned as the mech suit disengaged from the security team and began marching towards the Bakshi forces. A rocket careened from their side and scored on the mech, enveloping it in flame.

  As the two attacking forces began to engage one another Lowell sent a signal to their security forces up front, and they quickly retreated from cover through sheltered blast doors and out of the line of fire, dragging their wounded comrades with them.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “That should buy us some time,” they said to themselves, as they turned to examine Ignasius at work.

  ...

  The sprawling network of deterrents contained in the Safe House were all within his control. Like the twitch of a finger, he could activate a chain gun mounted on the front gate. As if exhaling a breath, he could fill an entire corridor with boiling oil. Ignasius was the Safe House.

  This meant that his physical chassis didn’t need to be present for him to assist in repelling the invaders. The massive store of his memory banks could handle multiple operations at once.

  Socketed in the main connection hub of his workshop he monitored the assault in real time.

  He unleashed a tank full of robotic knife fish into the sewer line and saw them dart towards the team advancing through the septic lines. Then he turned his attention to the gang at the side gate.

  They had already successfully hacked their way past the first few blast doors and were making their way swiftly down the main corridor. Ignasius engaged the comms in the hallway.

  “I’d turn back if I was you, lads. I don’t relish the thought of killing you today,” his voice boomed from the speaker system. Still the crew trudged on. Oh well.

  “You’ve been warned,” he said and shut off the speakers. He then engaged the first of his traps.

  The floor and ceiling of one section of corridor erupted with huge 10-foot-long spikes, annihilating any living tissue between. Blood sluiced through the drain of the spike room floor. About fifteen of the men were caught in the chomp.

  As the spikes retracted the attackers rolled a wide section of chain across the spiked portion of the floor, then manipulated a handheld device which erected the chain into a circular tube, wide enough for a crouching man to traverse. They then started to cross through it in a line.

  Ignasius activated the trap again and the spikes sprang out, only to be blocked by the rigid column of chain.

  “Interesting!” Ignasius chortled, “This might be a bit of a challenge after all!”

  ...

  The new suit already felt like part of Gondo’s body. He streaked down the halls of the bunker, headed towards a marker on his display indicating the tunnel rat. He leapt up to access a hatch in the ceiling, but didn’t need to use any psychic force at all. The actuators in the suit launched him as easily as psionic energy would have.

  He began crawling quickly through the access shafts, always aware of the cool liquid Moonshield, waiting to be activated. It was for emergencies only, but it tempted him with its ultimate power.

  The Safe House was buried deep in the mantle of the Earth. In order to feed air into the compound they had employed a labyrinthine system of ducts that stretched for miles upward. Occasionally the ducts would burst from the bottoms of lofty filtering cones into larger chambers that controlled airflow. It was in one of these chambers that Gondo finally encountered the rat.

  He came upon a well-equipped mustachioed man in his middle years. His trench coat like radiation cloak covered a suit of light armor, and in his hand he held a grapple gun. Gondo could sense the energy billowing from the magnetic gauntlets the man had used to descend the shafts.

  “If I’d known you’d just be comin’ to me, we could have saved a lot of time my friend,” he said with a thick Texas accent. Accents weren’t even a thing anymore. Obviously, this guy was an asshole.

  “Burt Albermarle,” Gondo observed, “Your reputation precedes you.”

  The man before him was a specialized bounty hunter. The Caster Code forbid this kind of behavior, but for non-psychics it was fair game. They employed a variety of counter measures to thwart psionic attacks, and jokingly referred to themselves as “Reelers”.

  Burt was one of the most dangerous. He’d left a slew of Caster scalps in his wake, some of whom had been Gondo’s friends.

  Gondo raised a fist to send a wave of force that would crumple him like an aluminum can. Nothing happened.

  “Come now friend, you think I’d jump into a tiger’s cage without a tranquilizer gun?” he patted a large block of metal attached to his belt. A dampener, and a strong one. Gondo wasn’t even able to summon a trickle of energy.

  Burt held up his gauntlets and spread his hands wide. Magnetic force latched onto Gondo’s suit and wrenched him forward. Carefully manipulating the gauntlets, the Reeler lined up a right hook that hammered into the side of Gondo’s helmet. He went flying and impacted the side of the chamber, collapsing at the bottom of the wall. Blood shot down from his nose.

  “Think you’re so fancy with your little mind tricks. I bet if you and I were to go mano a mano you wouldn't last a round. Shame we won’t find out.” He lifted the Caster in the air with the gauntlets and held him there as the massive whirling fan below them sprang to life. Burt looked to the fan and chuckled. Gondo strained against the current, writhing in the air.