Reckoners 01 - Steelheart

destruction—destruction that could seem like the work of an Epic. If we were going to imitate one, we’d need something impressive.
    Megan stepped up beside me, studying a machine gun that fired incendiary rounds.
    “I’m
not
a nerd,” I hissed at her softly.
    “Why does it matter?” she asked, her tone neutral. “There’s nothing wrong with being smart. In fact, if you
are
intelligent, you’ll be a stronger asset to the team.”
    “I just … I … I just don’t like being called that. Besides, who ever heard of a nerd jumping from a moving jet and shooting an Epic in midair while plummeting toward the ground?”
    “I’ve never heard of
anyone
doing that.”
    “Phaedrus did it,” I said. “Execution of Redleaf, three years ago up in Canada.”
    “That story was exaggerated,” Abraham said softly, walking by. “It was a helicopter. And it was all part of the plan—we were very careful. Now please, keep focused on our current task.”
    I shut my mouth and began studying the weapons. Incendiary rounds were impressive, but not particularly original. That wasn’t flashy enough for us. In fact, any type of basic gun wouldn’t work—whether it shot bullets, rockets, or grenades, it wouldn’t be convincing. We needed something more like the energy weapons Enforcement had. A way to mimic an Epic’s innate firepower.
    I moved down the hallway, and the weapons seemed to grow more unusual the farther I walked. I stopped beside a curious group of objects. They appeared to be innocent enough—a water bottle, a mobile phone, a pen. They were attached to the wall like the weapons.
    “Ah … you are a discerning man, are you, David?”
    I jumped, turning to see Diamond grinning behind me. How could a fat man move so quietly?
    “What are they?” I asked.
    “Advanced stealth explosives,” Diamond answered proudly. He reached up and tapped a section of the wall, and an image appeared on it. He had an imager hooked up here, apparently. It showed a water bottle sitting on a table. A businessman strolled past, looking at some papers in his hand. He set them on the table, then twisted the cap off the water.
    And exploded.
    I jumped back.
    “Ah,” Diamond said. “I hope you appreciate the value of this footage—it’s rare that I get good shots of a stealth explosive being deployed in the field. This one is quite remarkable. Notice how the explosion flung the body back but didn’t damage too much nearby?That’s important in a stealth explosive, particularly if the person to be assassinated might have valuable documents on them.”
    “That’s disgusting,” I said, turning away.
    “We are in the business of death, young man.”
    “The video, I mean.”
    “He wasn’t a very nice person, if it helps.” I doubted that mattered to Diamond. He seemed affable as he tapped the wall. “Good explosion. I’ll be honest—I half keep these to sell just because I like showing off that video. It’s one of a kind.”
    “Do they all explode?” I asked, examining the innocent-looking devices.
    “The pen is a detonator,” Diamond said. “Click the back and you set off one of those little eraser devices next to it. They’re universal blasting caps. Stick them close to something explosive, trigger them, and they can usually set it off. Depends on the substance, but they’re programmed with some pretty advanced detection algorithms. They work on most explosive substances. Stick one of those to some guy’s grenade, walk away, then click the pen.”
    “If you could clip one of those to his grenade,” Megan said, approaching, “you could have just pulled the pin. Or better yet, shot him.”
    “It’s not for every situation,” Diamond said defensively. “But they can be
very
fun. What’s better than detonating your enemy’s own explosives when he’s not expecting it?”
    “Diamond,” Abraham called from down the corridor. “Come tell me about this.”
    “Ah! Excellent choice.
Wonderful
explosions from that one …” He scuttled off.
    I looked at the panel full of innocent yet deadly objects. Something about them felt very wrong to me. I’d killed men before, but I’d done it honestly. With a gun in my hands, and only because I’d been forced to. I didn’t have many philosophies about life, but one of them was something my father had taught me: never throw the firstpunch. If you have to throw the second, try to make sure they don’t get up for a third.
    “These
could
be useful,” Megan