inside real quick. Be back before you miss me.”
She zipped away as Jack said “Wait, what?” She’d leave the others to take care of the two cowboys outside. The fat one had force fields, which meant he’d be a little harder to take down. Or maybe not; Switchboard could probably put the man to sleep with his psionic powers.
Chaos reigned inside of the Mint. Despite heightened security measures implemented since 9/11, nobody had really ever expected terrorists to try to rob the Mint. Security had been arranged to minimize the risk of demolition, not robbery. Public tours of the Mint by were no longer permitted, but plenty of employees remained inside the building. A Mexican standoff had developed on the main printing floor. Three more cowboys—one actually a cowgirl—had taken some employees hostage and were using them as human shields against the armed Treasury guards.
Two more perpetrators dressed like the others were breaking apart machinery for the plates and dies inside. One of them had appropriated an entire roll of paper. Sally had to give them a little more credit than Jack had. He’d thought they were common bank robbers, especially given their whole Wild West motif. They weren’t bothering with the gold or silver bullion in deep storage; they were stealing the materials with which to print their own money, and the false bills would appear perfect to anyone except a Treasury agent.
Doublecharge had said speed was of the essence, and nobody was faster than Sally.
Nobody .
She ran down the line of guards and pushed clip releases with one hand while she popped the chambered rounds out of the slides with the other. She’d practiced the technique for hours until she could perform it faster than even a seasoned gunman like Jack could pull a trigger. In spite of her speed, one guard got a surprised round off. Sally cursed and changed direction instantly, something she could do no matter how fast she was running. She could see the bullet spiraling through the air right toward a hostage. She slapped it aside with one of her horseshoes to send it toward a wall.
She paused in front of the guard who’d fired just long enough to disable his gun and waggle a reproachful finger in his face. Then she sped away and headed for the three villains who held civilian hostages. One of them twitched suddenly in her direction faster than anyone should have been able to with a motion almost a blur even to Sally.
Something wrapped around her legs, constricted, and she skidded hard into a printing press. Her goggles cracked with the impact. At least it wasn’t my skull , she thought in a daze. Blotchy stars danced in her visions from the force of the impact. What the hell was that? She looked down toward her feet. A sinuous ribbon of ruby-colored energy wrapped around her ankles and held them fast. The end of the ribbon curled away to end in the fist of a tall, reedy cowboy with a real soup-strainer of a mustache.
“ Usted la ha conseguido, Azote? ” shouted the cowgirl to the man holding the energy whip.
“ Sí, ella no puede escaparse, ” said Azote in satisfaction. He twitched the whip and jerked Sally sideways.
“ Hay más de ellos afuera ,” shouted another villain.
“There are more of us in here too, asshole,” called a familiar voice from high above. Sally glanced up and saw Jack perched in a high window, a pistol in each hand. “ Hablo español. Usted entiende inglés? Let the hostages go and let’s go outside and talk this over . ”
The woman glared up at him. She held something Sally thought was a ball bearing. Upon further examination afforded by her accelerated perceptions, she could see the woman had similar metallic spheres all over her costume. The way the woman brandished it, the little ball was obviously some kind of weapon. “No chance, Americano . Drop your weapons, or we start killing hostages . ”
The energy ribbon around Sally wound further around her and constricted like a serpent.
She zipped away as Jack said “Wait, what?” She’d leave the others to take care of the two cowboys outside. The fat one had force fields, which meant he’d be a little harder to take down. Or maybe not; Switchboard could probably put the man to sleep with his psionic powers.
Chaos reigned inside of the Mint. Despite heightened security measures implemented since 9/11, nobody had really ever expected terrorists to try to rob the Mint. Security had been arranged to minimize the risk of demolition, not robbery. Public tours of the Mint by were no longer permitted, but plenty of employees remained inside the building. A Mexican standoff had developed on the main printing floor. Three more cowboys—one actually a cowgirl—had taken some employees hostage and were using them as human shields against the armed Treasury guards.
Two more perpetrators dressed like the others were breaking apart machinery for the plates and dies inside. One of them had appropriated an entire roll of paper. Sally had to give them a little more credit than Jack had. He’d thought they were common bank robbers, especially given their whole Wild West motif. They weren’t bothering with the gold or silver bullion in deep storage; they were stealing the materials with which to print their own money, and the false bills would appear perfect to anyone except a Treasury agent.
Doublecharge had said speed was of the essence, and nobody was faster than Sally.
Nobody .
She ran down the line of guards and pushed clip releases with one hand while she popped the chambered rounds out of the slides with the other. She’d practiced the technique for hours until she could perform it faster than even a seasoned gunman like Jack could pull a trigger. In spite of her speed, one guard got a surprised round off. Sally cursed and changed direction instantly, something she could do no matter how fast she was running. She could see the bullet spiraling through the air right toward a hostage. She slapped it aside with one of her horseshoes to send it toward a wall.
She paused in front of the guard who’d fired just long enough to disable his gun and waggle a reproachful finger in his face. Then she sped away and headed for the three villains who held civilian hostages. One of them twitched suddenly in her direction faster than anyone should have been able to with a motion almost a blur even to Sally.
Something wrapped around her legs, constricted, and she skidded hard into a printing press. Her goggles cracked with the impact. At least it wasn’t my skull , she thought in a daze. Blotchy stars danced in her visions from the force of the impact. What the hell was that? She looked down toward her feet. A sinuous ribbon of ruby-colored energy wrapped around her ankles and held them fast. The end of the ribbon curled away to end in the fist of a tall, reedy cowboy with a real soup-strainer of a mustache.
“ Usted la ha conseguido, Azote? ” shouted the cowgirl to the man holding the energy whip.
“ Sí, ella no puede escaparse, ” said Azote in satisfaction. He twitched the whip and jerked Sally sideways.
“ Hay más de ellos afuera ,” shouted another villain.
“There are more of us in here too, asshole,” called a familiar voice from high above. Sally glanced up and saw Jack perched in a high window, a pistol in each hand. “ Hablo español. Usted entiende inglés? Let the hostages go and let’s go outside and talk this over . ”
The woman glared up at him. She held something Sally thought was a ball bearing. Upon further examination afforded by her accelerated perceptions, she could see the woman had similar metallic spheres all over her costume. The way the woman brandished it, the little ball was obviously some kind of weapon. “No chance, Americano . Drop your weapons, or we start killing hostages . ”
The energy ribbon around Sally wound further around her and constricted like a serpent.
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