GunBunny 2

    Suzanne winced as she went to throw her leg over the bike, reminded suddenly that she had been hit.  Amidst all the excitement and adrenaline, she’d forgotten.  She rubbed the injured muscle while the bike’s internal systems caught her misbalance and corrected itself.  It was a monster of a vehicle, chrome black and pill-shaped in contour.  One of a kind, and custom built to her specifications, the vehicle’s bullet-proof wheels extended only a few inches out of the bottom armor and a pair of pop-up turrets were hidden in the top forward and rear panels.  The interior lit up as it sensed her weight on the seat, wrap-around displays showing the world outside the armored shell as she leaned forward and let the sliding door seal her inside.  A series of small windows appeared on the screen as she slid her headset onto her forehead, exporting the feed to the larger heads-up display.

    “Hurting much?” asked Adrienne, her voice piped through the vehicle’s internal audio systems.  The vehicle’s gas-electric engine powered to life beneath her and began to roll once she tapped the marina on the pop-up map.

    “Took a solid hit to the thigh back there,” Suzanne replied, still rubbing her leg with her free hand.  “Gonna be bruised for a week…”  She unzipped the armored bodysuit, letting the gathered heat out.  In response, the vehicle turned on a series of fans, filling the small space with artificially cold air.  She sighed in relief.

    “I keep telling you to add a plate to your thigh armor.  That see-through mesh is a weak point…”

    “I’ve heard it before, Adrienne,” Suzanne said, gritting her teeth.  “The GunBunny doesn’t show up covered in heavy plate, and I rely on my maneuverability...”

    “To get you out of situations, I know,” Adrienne finished for her.  They’d had the argument time and again.  “I just worry, you know?”

    “I know.  I love you too.  Besides, it’s hot enough as it is. I don’t want anything more to stifle in…”  Suzanne grinned, knowing Adrienne would see it through her displays back home.  As a sculpt, she had to be wary of overheating.  The human form was never intended to be covered in fur and many sculpts forgot that and passed out from heat exhaustion or stroke on hotter days.  Covering herself in combat armor was a test of endurance as much as an effort to protect herself.

    “When you told me to put that outfit together, I thought you were insane.  I still wonder from time to time.”

    “Well, if you were in my position, with the jobs I’ve done in the past, then you’d want it to be lightweight.”

    “Yeah, but see-through?  The defensive capabilities of see-through armor just aren’t up to…”

    “Snuff, I know. That’s why I have to avoid being hit there.”

    “Like you did tonight?”

    “Shush.”

    “I’m just saying…”

    “Message received.”  Outside the armored shell, the world was whipping past at high speed, the vehicle’s auto-senses keeping her safe as it weaved and dove through traffic.  Seeing nothing important on the forward ladar display, she took the moment to reload her pistols.  She took care to reload the tranq round.  “Anything on that van?”

    “Marina cameras are sporadic, but I think I have a partial.  I think it’s pulled up near the ocean-end.  Appears unoccupied.”

    “They’ve already moved her.  DAMNIT.  When are we going to catch a break on this?”

    “They have an hour’s head start on us, Suzanne.”

    “An hour more that our target is in the hands of these… sex traders…”  She spat the words.

    “We don’t know that is what they are doing…” cautioned Adrienne.

    “You saw the pic of our target, didn’t you?”

    “I did.  Cute bunny-sculpt, 24 years old, female, blue-green eyes.  Slender build, white fur with gray patterns, regular bunny tail and ears.  I saw her when you did.”

    “How often do sculpts get taken for simple slavery, Adrienne?”  There was a long pause.  Suzanne knew that Adrienne understood.  “You don’t take a girl with a quarter-mil in genetic alteration for simple slave work.  Last I heard, sculpts go for a hundred grand in the underground market in the Philippines.

    “And once you get there, you’re gone, I know,” whispered Adrienne.  “We have to stop them.”

    Suzanne winced as she moved her hip to reload the grenade pods on her belt.  The reloads were in specially-designed ports behind the driver’s seat, requiring she twist to reach them.  Her hip was having none of it.  “You have any gel loaded in here?”

    “Right side, back panel.”

    She busied herself grabbing the dispenser and then lathering the gel through the see-through mesh that protected her otherwise exposed thigh.  A heavy sigh escaped her lips as the anesthetic began to kick in. “Better,” she muttered.

    “Heads up.  You’re almost there.  Permission codes have been sent to your IFF transmitter, so you should just roll through the gate.  Don’t forget to grab a new drone.”

    Outside, the bike slowed as it came up to a gated area with a watchman’s position.  Inside, a security guard read the codes the black oblong thing rolling toward him sent to his system and acknowledged.  He stepped out and watched as the armored bike rolled silently past.  Shaking his head, he went back inside moments later and Suzanne’s eyes went back to where she was going.

    “I have it,” she said.  The cameras had locked on the partial image of the van and positively identified it at the end of the dock.  The bike began to slow as she shifted weight, preparing to sit up.  As she did, the armored hood slid back, exposing her to the warm evening breeze.  Several of her neon blue tresses blew across her face as she stood up.  Shoving them aside, she slid her headset down and let her eyes adjust to the new focus as equipment readiness and ammunition counters lit up around the edges.  Reaching inside the bike’s interior, she flipped a slot open and palmed a drone before sliding it to the magnetized catch plate just above her white puff of tail.

    Taking a moment to assess the situation, she let her long ears unfold from where they’d lain during the bike ride, letting the sounds of the area in and analyzing.  Water.  Wind.  The clanking of chains and ropes on pulleys.  Boats riding the harbor water, bumping their plastic berms.  Voices raised in celebration on a boat not far away.  Traffic on the far side of the marina.  Two pedestrians out for a walk not far away.

    “Nothing to report.”  Reluctantly, she sealed her suit once more.

    “Good,” said Adrienne.  “Get moving.  If we’re lucky, we’ll have some idea where they took her.”

    “Big boat, the guy said.  Nothing here is oversized, considering.”  The tallest thing in the port were the sails.  No luxury yachts in the marina right now.  “Got to be out to sea.”

    “Hang on a sec.  I’ll check the satellite feed.”

    While she waited, Suzanne moved to the van.  Carefully, she moved around it until she could see inside the front window.  It was empty, but better to be safe than sorry.  She checked a door.

    “Locked.”  She whispered.  With a quick look around, she put her armored elbow plate through the glass and reached in to unlock the vehicle before entering.  “What color was the girl’s hair again?”

    “Dark red top, pink edges,” Adrienne replied distractedly.  “Why?”

    Suzanne picked up the hair follicle and flicked the flashlight in her headset into brilliance.  “Pink and red hair.  She was here.”  She looked around the interior.  “Looks like she was passive when they moved her.  No signs of a struggle.”  She flicked the light back off.

    “Eval I was able to pull on her said she’s not the violent type,” Adrienne purred into her ear.  “Spoiled rotten, but not a fighter.”

    Suzanne snickered.  “Oh, I’m sure she’s giving them an earful…”

    “If she’s still awake, that is.”

    “Point.  Anything on the satellite feed?”  She stepped out of the van and stretched tentatively, testing her hip for soreness.  There was nothing.  The gel had done its job and she was mobile, if a little stiff.

    “Yeah.  Super-yacht sitting off the pier.  Harbor cameras show a speedboat leaving a little under an hour ago…” 

    A picture icon flickered at the edge of Suzanne’s vision and she blink-clicked it into position.  A satellite image, insanely zoomed.  “That’s her.  Can’t miss that hair…”  Three individuals in black and a smaller figure rode in the boat, the deep red of the girl’s hair obvious against the white bodysuit she appeared to be wearing.  “She’s tiny…”

    “Not much smaller than you, actually,” corrected Adrienne, her smirk easily transmitted across the feed.  “I think you forget that you’re a little thing, too.”

    “Big things come in little packages.”

    “Well, a big paycheck comes in this little package.  So, what’s the plan?”

    “Rebreather,” Suzanne said, moving back to her bike and flipping open another storage unit.  The black unit went under her headset and fit nearly seamlessly to the bottom of her goggles.

    “You’re not going to swim out there…”

    “From here?” Suzanne snorted.  “There’s a wake-runner right here.  I’ll just borrow it for a bit.”  Moving to the docks, she jumped down into the green speed boat and sat in the driver’s seat.  She waved a magnetic section of her right glove over the activation plate.  “You get that?”

    “Yeah.  Hang on a sec…”  Rapid typing rattled through the feed.  There was a definitive key punch.  “Try it now.”

    Suzanne waved her glove over the transponder again and grinned as the engine purred to life.  “Nice.”

    “I do try…”  There was a pause.  “You have a two minute window for the accessway.  Cameras are looped.”

    Settling in to her seat, Suzanne punched the pedal and whooped as the shallow-draft boat shot out of its berth and began the trip down the accessway to the Pacific beyond, blue hair flying behind her.  Whoever owned this little beauty wouldn’t be happy that it disappeared in the middle of the night, but at least he’d find it floating by the pier in the morning (unless, of course, someone else stole it during the night).