The Chop Shop Read Online Free Page A

himself staring at the policemen
seated opposite. One pulled down his balaclava to wipe the sweat from his
forehead.
    Corporal Hill
nodded at Richard and leaned forward. “You're looking a little pale, Richard,”
he shouted over the drone of the engine.
    “Riding in these
things always make me feel sick. I prefer a car.”
    “This isn't an
airliner. We don't keep sick bags on board,” Hill said. He reached down and
pulled out the empty ammunition can from under his seat. “If you're going to
blow, use this. I don't want your vomit washing all over the floor and ruining
my boots.”
    “Two minutes,” a
voice said over the radio.
    “To be honest, I
don't know how some of you even end up as detectives. You're all greener than
the fungus between my toes,” one of the other policemen said.
    “Private
military companies are buying up a lot of people. Assurer have to compete with
them for personnel. There's only so many people in the pool before they have to
start recruiting from further afield. PMCs are in hot supply; there's another
flashpoint over natural resources every month. The pay is good, but I don't
rate your chances of survival,” Corporal Hill said.
    “Is the pay good
enough for a place on the plate?”
    “Maybe, but you
probably wouldn't live long enough to enjoy it.”
    “Then I guess
I'll stick with Assurer, even if they are a bunch of French bastards.”
    The vehicle
stopped, and Hill slapped the button to open the rear door. They stepped
outside and found themselves blinded by a spotlight.
    Hill beckoned to
them. “This way, this way.”
    An electric
perimeter fence surrounded them. Police snipers looked out from four guard
towers, others patrolling the grounds. Richmond pillar rose upwards, thicker
than a sky scraper and a hundred times uglier. Metal and concrete branched out
at the top like a tree canopy to support Upper London. Polluted water and toxic
waste rained down from leaking pipes wielded to the underside of the platform.
    They moved past
a barracks building to the maintenance lift. Corporal Hill removed both safety
chains and lowered the lift's access barrier. “I've heard it's raining up there
today.”
    “God damn acid
rain,” Richard said.
    “It's less toxic
than whatever it is leaking down on our heads,” Michael said.
    “All right,
Private Taylor and I will come up there with you. The rest of my section will
wait down here,” Hill said.
    They stepped
onto the maintenance lift and secured the access barrier. Corporal Hill hit the
button to raise the lift. A siren rang out; orange hazard lights flashed as
they began to ascend. The police outpost shrank below.
    Michael felt a
wave of dizziness overcome him. He backed away from the edge, gripping the
guardrail with a cold and clammy hand. The wind grew stronger. Coats, ties and
hair flapped violently. Private Taylor walked to the edge, leaned over the
barrier and spat.
    “It's quite a
view, as long as you don't slip,” Corporal Hill said.
    The city was a
sprawling mess of darkness and decay, kept alive by small outposts of lights,
advertisement displays and burning fires. One tower vanished in the blink of an
eye like somebody had performed a magic trick with it.
    “Fucking power
cuts,” Taylor said.
    Some of the city
ruins were tall enough to nearly touch the underside of the platform, blocking
his view to the east. Michael looked up, as a hole in the platform swallowed
them. They passed through layers of metal. Bulging electrical cables and pipes
crawled in and out of every crevice like wild ivy, and sparks flew from an
electrical box with a noise that sounded much too similar to gunfire.
    Dim light filled
the lift shaft, growing stronger. Michael heard the patter of rain and the
sounds of electric cars. A chain fence and security checkpoint surrounded them
on all sides as the lift came to a halt, and black clouds drifted overhead with
unnatural speed. Puddles formed in the concrete.
    The policemen up
here wore grey urban