McCade's Bounty by William C. Dietz

engines stopped.
    Although the hovercraft wasn't able to pick them up, it did provide a much-needed diversion, and the entire group made it to the pier unharmed.
    By now the hoverboat's captain had mustered a somewhat ineffectual damage-control party. They made dark silhouettes against the flames as they aimed an intermittent stream of water at the base of the fire.
    McCade shook his head in disgust, removed the cigar from his mouth, and flicked it into the river.
    "All right, everybody . . . so much for plan A. It looks like we're gonna get our feet wet."
    "But I can't swim!" Bulo wailed. "I'll drown!"
    "That would be nice," McCade said agreeably. "But if you shut up, and do exactly what Sergeant Ven says, maybe you won't."
    "Company's coming!" Rico yelled, and sent a stutter of blue energy toward town. Two of the troopers took cover nearby and added their fire to his.
    McCade shrugged his way out from under the black duffel. "Give me a hand, Phil . . . this thing's awkward as hell." Together they laid the bag out with the seal upward.
    Rico yelled something incoherent and bullets screamed overhead.
    Fingers fumbling, heart pounding, McCade broke the seal, found the T-shaped yellow handle, gave it a single turn to the right, and pulled.
    The results were quite dramatic. There was a loud whooshing sound, followed by a series of pops as various air chambers filled, and a final hiss as the now-inflated raft vented a bit of excess air.
    "All right," McCade yelled, "massed fire to keep their heads down, then grab the raft and jump together!"
    Rico and the two troopers backed toward the river firing as they came.
    Phil hit a quick release, dumped the flamethrower, and set it to explode sixty seconds later.
    McCade unloaded his slug gun in the general direction of town and got a grip on the boat.
    Ven handcuffed himself to Bulo and flinched as a stray bullet whapped through the raft right next to his leg.
    "Grab on!" McCade ordered, and the moment they had, he yelled, "Run!"
    With bullets zinging around them, and energy beams slicing the night into geometric shapes, they galloped to the end of the pier and jumped.
    Then they learned a painful lesson. A well-inflated raft won't sink after a twenty-foot fall, but those hanging on to it will. The force of the fall, plus their own weight, ripped hands loose and pushed them toward the bottom.
    The water was cold. McCade kicked toward the surface, unable to see through the blackness, groping for the raft.
    Ven got a pleasant surprise meanwhile as Bulo demonstrated a sudden mastery of underwater swimming and towed him toward the surface.
    Rico felt a trooper struggling nearby, grabbed his harness, and dragged him upward.
    Phil struggled against the weight of his remaining equipment and water-logged fur, considered going into full augmentation, and decided not to. He would be completely exhausted afterward and that might be just as fatal as drowning. Slowly but surely, forcing himself to stay calm, he kicked his way upward until his head broke the surface.
    Most of Phil's attention was centered on the vital process of sucking air into his oxygen-starved lungs, but a distant part of his mind was still able to register a ball of red-orange flame and the thump of a sizable explosion.
    The flamethrower had exploded right on schedule taking twelve of Bulo's retainers and most of the pier with it.
    McCade was the first one into the raft. As a side current pulled them out and away from shore, he helped others into the raft and urged them to hurry up.
    Given the raft's low profile, and its dark color, the boat was almost impossible to see. That didn't bother Bulo's surviving retainers however, they were still firing, hoping for a lucky hit. The fact that they might hit Bulo hadn't occurred to them or just didn't matter.
    "Welcome aboard, your wetness," McCade said as he helped Ven, then Bulo, over the side.
    The Lakorian noble ignored him as he collapsed in the bottom of the boat.
    McCade