Freedom TM

find The Major.
    By now Loki was in mopping-up mode. The last of the mercenaries were tossing grenades or running for the rear bathroom windows. They’d all be dead or bleeding to death shortly. One thing he already knew—The Major wasn’t here. But these men were protecting something.
    So Loki turned his attention again to the bathroom, switching POV to the nearest razorback. He drove it right up to the door, nudging it all the way open. What he saw was very nice, indeed. Just the way he liked a woman—young, nude, and tied up. She was cringing from the powerful engine throbbing next to her, and visibly sobbing behind her blindfold. Her breathing was labored as she tried to get enough air despite the duct tape covering her mouth. He could see a tattoo on her shoulder of a bosomy manga girl in a schoolgirl outfit, twin katanas raised.
    Loki extended the razorback’s bloody sword and brought it near her throat. She sucked in air—trembling at what she sensed was so close. Perhaps she smelled the blood that coated the stainless steel.
    A minute later, Loki guided his own Ducati Streetfighter motorcycle into the motel parking lot as panicked guests watched him from the safety of the woods on the far side of the road. Loki knew that none of their cell phones would work, and it didn’t look like anyone had the balls to go get their car with a squad of blood-soaked razorbacks standing about on hydraulic stands. He got off his bike and walked into the second motel room in full battle armor.
    He glanced around to see the usual topographical maps, folders filled with printed spreadsheets, shattered laptops—and severed limbs, bloody torsos, and coiled intestines. The whole place was splattered with blood and thousands of shell casings littered the floor. There were bullet holes everywhere.
    No wonder no one was in a hurry to come investigate.
    Loki stepped through the bathroom door and took in the beauty of the young woman in person. She had short brunette hair and alabaster skin. Her hips and legs were beautifully proportioned. The nipples of her small, firm breasts were clearly defined. She had a couple more Japanese characters tattooed on her hip and right forearm.
    Loki leaned up to her face, still in his battle helmet. “Tell me where The Major is.”
    He reached up and tore off the duct tape covering her mouth. She sucked for air and immediately started sobbing.
    “Where is The Major?”
    “Why would I know?” Still she sobbed.
    “But you’ve heard of him?”
    She was still heaving. “Please untie me.”
    “Where did you hear of him?”
    “Who are you?”
    “Never mind who I am.”
    She looked unsure for a moment, but spoke through sobs.“I’m a darknet member! Shadowcreek faction.” She fell into more weeping.
    “Bullshit.”
    “I can prove it! They have my equipment.”
    “Where?”
    “In a radio-proof bag. Silver. They have it here. I was bringing an artifact north.”
    Loki eyed her body again. If she were telling the truth, it would change things. He couldn’t do just anything to a faction member. He leaned outside the bathroom and there by the nightstand he saw what looked to be a silvered tent bag, now spattered with blood droplets. He walked over to it and dumped its contents on the floor. Suddenly half a dozen D-Space call-outs appeared above various electronic gadgets—HUD glasses among them.
    Damnit.
    He grabbed the HUD glasses and reentered the bathroom. He took another look at her lithe body, then removed her blindfold. She was as pretty as he thought she might be. Eurasian.
    She looked up at him, her eyes still red from crying. She recoiled at Loki’s fearsome appearance. He placed the glasses on her head, and in a moment a call-out appeared above her indicating her name was
Siren_3
, a third-level messenger with the Shadowcreek faction.
    She stared at him—no doubt seeing Loki’s very powerful call-out.
    “Thank you for saving me.”
    “We’ll see how grateful you are later. We need to leave.”
    “Untie me.”
    With a flick of his wrist a razor sharp spur protruded from his riding outfit. He slit through the nylon rope binding her hands and then her ankles. She sighed and rubbed her rope-burned wrists.
    “I want to leave here. I want to go home.” She was looking around for a towel or something to cover herself.
    Loki looked at the pile of D-Space objects on the bed. One of them in particular stuck out at him. He picked it up. It was a silver ring with the name
Signet