Tracy never lost consciousness, which on some level pissed her off. Her vision was a mess not because of the slug, but because the nanite based medical system was working overload to not just keep her alive but restore her to “operational status”. God bless the VA. The veterans administration was fully committed to the health of its soldiers, for the entirity of their lives.
Stifling a grown, Tracy could feel that awkward sickening sensation of mer muscles being knit back together. She felt the tug on her skin, like someone was closing a zipper deep inside her. The pain control modulated the nerve signals enough to keep her conscious, but not so much that she forgot that she was injured.
As she lay on the soft turf beneath the hedgerow where she had fallen, she listened, her hearing turned up to near maximum amplification. She heard was she least expected to hear. Silence. The shot must have been fired from off property. They had a sniper covering the back entrance. She wondered if they were looking for her specifically, or one of the family members. It didn’t really matter. She needed to clear the property, but how?
She risked tilting her head up enough to look down past her toes. She found her answer but didn’t like it. The rear of the property touched the intracoastal waterway. The water would be warm this time of year, and the high salt content would make it easier for her to float.
Blinking back most of the warning messages streaming across her vision, she tested her mobility. It hurt like hell, but the nanites did not resist her attempt to move. They were military grade after all. Not those consumer and sport devices that tried to immobilize a the victim after any and all injuries. Soldiers were expected to fight on, or at least evacuate. Prisoners of war were not good for the moral of the enlisted or the elected.
Tracy rolled gently onto her stomach and started to crawl across the loam beneath the thick brush. She never knew about plants. But for some reason she wanted to know what these were called. They had after all, probably saved her life. The thick bladed grass was not soft, but the black soil below the bushes was nice and cushy.
It took her almost ten minutes to cover the distance to the canal. She paused several times along the way, listening and looking. She zoomed in a couple of times, scanning for glass, but she could see no sign of the scope.
She paused to check the detailed medical records. Most of the soft tissues were well into being knit back together. The skin had been closed so she was no longer in danger of infection, however the bullet had shattered her left patella. That was going to take some time to heal.
Armed with that information, Tracy formulated her plan, then in one smooth motion that triggered another round of silent alarms, she pushed herself, by her arms, forward like some amphibian and grabbed the brick bordered edge of the property then swung her legs over the side. She twisted and lowered herself into the water, keeping the noise to a minimum.
The whole move had taken less than 5 seconds, but the entire time her heart was racing. It was the most exposed she had been since getting shot. Her feet touched the water and slipped below the surface, the rest of her plump figure following without hardly a ripple.
She floated to the post under the dock and tried to keep her breathing as calm as possible. She waited to a count of 5, then pushed off and let the current draw her away from the property. She remained low in the water, her dark hair giving her a natural cover in the night. She listened carefully but heard no more signs of pursuit.
What kind of bastard would shoot a women and leave her to rot? She did not know, but she was going to find out. If there was one thing that Tracy could not abide, it was being disrespected.
She pulled herself out of the canal a few blocks from the estate, just as the sound of sirens from fire trucks screamed down the street. So that’s why they didn’t come after her. She wondered if the couple had gotten out alive? She doubted it. The sniper likely took them out when they shot her. She doubted they would have the medical manures necessary to survive a shot like she had taken, especially if it hit them in the skull. That thought made her stop and reflect how close that had come. Had that needle sniper hit her in the skull her manures would have been preserving her corpse. She shrugged off the thought.
Headshots were great for video games, but in real life you aimed for the center of mass. Too many variables could take a projectile wide, and you didn’t want to risk return fire.
Soaking wet, she signaled for a ground car and waited in the shadows until it arrived. She hustled inside feeling better now. Her nanites We’re down to 40%, that had been a helluva hit. She wouldn’t survive another gun shot until hers were replaced. She either needed to find a med station or eat some charcoal to give them fuel to regenerate. Either one would take time. Time she didn’t feel she had.
Where was she going now? She needed a safe place to think, and spend the night. A quick mental scan brought one name to mind. Jessica. She called up the address, and sent it to the cars navigation system. It sped off heading away from the beach. She could show up on Jessica’s door unannounced. It would be safer that way.
She now prepared a quick report for Rod, he would need to know what had happened. Holding up her watch, she recorded a quick video.
“Hey chief, I have some bad news for you. Someone likely killed the sister and they tried to take me out as well. I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into but be extra cautious, this is not your typical job.” She thought about telling him what had happened to her but decided against it. She could take care of herself and very likely he would have other problems right now. “Your contract should still be valid, at least until the insurance company finds out it was an android who signed it and not a human. But you know how those bureaucrats are. The main thing is watch your back. I’m going to try and find out who’s behind this or what’s going on, but if I had to place a bet, I’d say a clan is involved.” She did a quick mental assessment of the situation she had faced. “The tech is top notch, but not military. That tells me plenty of money, probably illegal sports fighting level gear, but not milspec. Also, I can’t tell if they were sloppy because they were in a hurry, or they don’t care. If I were in your shoes I wouldn’t count on a lot of official assistance on this one.”
She didn’t want to go on record saying she thought police were corrupt, but she figured Rodney would understand what she meant. The union had a million reasons to not do its job, and in her experience when it came to the clans, local and federal law enforcement tended to look the other way. Some wars were not worth fighting. There might be a few good cops out there, but she had yet to meet one in any official capacity.
Keep the traffic moving? Help a lost pedestrian? Write up a petty theft report? Sure. Stand up against a well funded organized crime syndicate? That was above just about everyone’s pay grade. The clans made sure it was more lucrative on every level to look the other way than create friction for them.
This kind of corruption was as old as dirt. Technology advanced, human nature, not so much.
Tracy looked at the puddle of salt water and and at her feet. The car clearly was prepared to pick up beach passengers as the interior seemed to be made of hard plastic and water craft couches. It looked like it was meant to be cleaned with a hose. The salt and sand had worked its way into her clothes in the most uncomfortable way possible.
She ignored it. She’d been through worse. And she was still alive.
The car joined ever increasing flows of traffic until it was part of a major artery headed in land. Each junction lead to an increase in speed. Tracy felt the electric motors kick into a higher rotation as they merged into the speedy traffic. The ride took fifteen minutes at velocity. The car quickly reversed the trend going from heavy traffic, to lighter, to less, to one car on a street. It pulled up in front of a three story apartment condo complex surrounded by palm trees.
Tracy checked her watch. It was just past one in the morning local time. She felt a wave of fatigue wash over her. The manures were programmed to not boost her alertness after a major injury. Despite all the advances in medicine, sleep always seemed to benefit the healing process. They wanted her to doze off.
Not until she was safely at Jessica’s.
Tracy left the car and approached the front porch. Lights sprang on and she showed her id chip and signaled for Jessica’s apartment. She didn’t call or text. She had no idea if she was being monitored or not. Best to play it safe.
There was a long pause then the screen came on but the camera was off. “Trace?” The sleep voice said.
“Hey Jess, remember when you said I could crash at your place any time?”
The door buzzed. Tracy pulled the handle and stepped inside. She found Tracy’s first floor door and it opened as she approached. Jessica was an attractive woman. Her physic, waterfall of curly blond hair that never seemed out of place masked her age as well as anyone Tracy knew. She looked like the senior life guard on the beach, tanned, fit, and ready for action. Even when she was standing in there wearing a white terrycloth bathrobe and fluffy bunny slippers.
“What the hell happened to you?” Jessica frowned looking Tracy up and down.
“Hell, what didn’t?” Tracy replied then gave her friend a hug, soaking wet or not.