Breach of Peace

by Daniel Gibbs

  She visually scanned the lot to find Vasily's Harr'al-built helicar and soon located it in one corner of the lot dedicated to that kind of vehicle.

  When she saw no sign of Vasily in the seats, her suspicions increased. Again, a part of her screamed to get back into the ISU building and batten down the hatches. But Vasily deserved better than that. He earned her honest effort to check on his well-being.

  As she continued to the vehicle, her hand slipped to the small of her back and pulled the Burleigh & Armstrong pulse pistol from its holster. She glanced around to see if anyone was watching her before bringing the gun up openly. She advanced the final meters to the vehicle and looked inside, weapon pointed.

  There was no sign of a body or food. Only a—

  Miri was already in a backward jump when her brain identified the stun grenade. She hit the ground back first and used the momentum to roll further backward. A moment later, there was a high-pitched buzz through the air and a burst of energy from the car.

  The field generated by the burst faltered just shy of Miri. She'd acted just in time. Recognizing her situation as an ambush, she kept low and scanned the area visually.

  A sapphire bolt struck her in the arm as she turned. It burned her flesh, and her arm muscles seized up while her hand spasmed, dropping her gun. Miri slipped around the helicar she was kneeling beside to get out of the firing angle of her attacker.

  Kepper was impressed. He was confident the stun grenade would work, but his mark had excellent instincts in getting out of the area of effect. She took cover quickly enough that he considered it a lucky shot when his second shot winged her arm. He saw her gun hit the ground and aimed a second shot at it, damaging the weapon and knocking it further away from her.

  All of it gave him the opening he needed. He moved from his vantage point across from the helicar spots toward his mark's location. She had only one route to take, and he kept it covered as he moved ahead. When she did poke her head toward the corner of her covering vehicle, he fired a shot into the air beside her, driving her back into cover so he could close the distance.

  Kepper kept the gun pointed ahead and downward as he finally rounded the helicar. His mark was slouched down to her knees, her right arm dangling uselessly, eyes fixed on him with concentration and a bit of frustration, maybe some anger in them.

  A part of him wished he saw fear. He would enjoy seeing fear, as he always did. It was the next best thing to pain.

  "Hands up," he said aloud. "You're caught."

  Miri glanced up at her attacker. Caucasian male, mid to late thirties, she estimated. A League operative, or someone in their employ. She swallowed, ignoring his sarcastic remark and expressing the question on her mind. "Where's Vasily?"

  "Not your concern anymore." Kepper kept one hand on his gun and reached to his pocket. He pulled out a tie strap. "Put this on your—"

  Miri's left hand moved up from where she'd had it by her left ankle and shin. Instead of being empty, however, it now had one of the Makarov-made flechette pistols. She pulled the trigger as soon as it was level with her would-be captor's legs. There was a loud, high-pitched sound, akin to rushing air, and the pistol expelled a tight spray of metal flechettes that ripped through fabric and flesh and muscle.

  The force of the impact, and the pain to his gored limb, brought the leg out from Miri's attacker. He fired as he fell, but Miri was already in motion. The shot whizzed a few centimeters past her head, and she crashed into him a moment later. With his balance gone and his leg wounded, he couldn't keep the impact from knocking him onto his back. Miri kicked his hand, and the gun dropped from it. She used the other foot to kick the weapon further away.

  Her attacker brought his other hand over and grabbed at her right ankle. It didn't quite grip the holdout pistol, a copy of the one in her hand, as he instead pulled hard to take her leg out from under her. Miri stumbled forward and hit the ground, knees first.

  "Bitch," rasped the man. She turned, her flechette gun up to put another round into him. Her left shoulder exploded in pain a moment later from the slug that blew through it. Her foe had another gun out now, this one a slug-throwing mag-pistol, and he fired a second shot that ripped flesh from her left side. The first shot was the worst, however, as it caused Miri to drop the gun from her left hand and left both arms useless.

  Despite his wounded leg, her attacker started to push himself back to his feet, one hand holding the mag-pistol and the other gripping the nearby helicar's bumper for balance. A fierce look covered his face. "If the League weren't paying me for you to be intact, I'd—"

  That was when a helicar hit him.

  After letting off Henry and Tia, Cera started a circuit of the area around the ISU building. Most of the nearby buildings were combinations of businesses and homes, with the former being on the lower floors and the latter on the upper. Traffic in the Sektatsh Alien Quarter was relatively active, and she had few openings to sit on the curb.

  Not wanting to stray far, she finally opted to pull the helicar into the nearby public lot. She didn't plan on being there for long, so it wouldn't charge too much to their rental account. Signs directed her toward the spots reserved for helicars, right and then left.

  Cera made the final turn as the first thundercrack split the air. It was not an explosion so much as akin to thunder, the sound of air being violently displaced by a force or object. The second coming a moment later told her it was not an innocent sound, and likely a weapon. A mag-pistol or rifle, she guessed. She lowered her right hand for the pulse pistol tucked in the helicar console without needing to look down, as she was too busy looking for the source of the shots.

  She found them.

  A spray of blood came from the shooting victim. Now Cera could make out the two figures beside one of the helicars. One was wounded in the leg and had trouble standing, the other was on her knees with neither arm moving. In shifting himself, the male with the hurt leg gave Cera a better look at the female. She recognized the woman immediately.

  Crap. No time to get the Captain or the others.

  She remembered the stakes Henry explained and what Caetano might do if they didn't get this witness. Felix could lose his brother, who was by all accounts a man of God and not someone to let down.

  Well, somewhat. He was a Protestant, after all. But Cera couldn't hold that against him.

  At that moment, as her foot slammed down on the accelerator of the helicar, Cera was grateful it wasn't an aircar. The gunman would've heard her by now, and she'd be getting shot at. Helicars were nice and quiet, or at least more silent than other modes of transportation.

  Which meant her opponent never saw her coming.

  The gunman was lucky in one respect. The distance didn't allow Cera to get the helicar up to a lethal velocity before she slammed into him. It still sent him flying down the lot driveway. He rolled to a stop and was still for a moment.

  Cera wasn't going to assume he was dead. She grabbed her pulse pistol and jumped from the driver's seat. Once on the ground, she went across the front of the car, gun held ready in one hand, to approach Miri Gaon. Blood poured from Miri's shoulder and side, and her other arm was equally useless with a pulse burn visible on the exposed bicep. "C'mon there, miss," she said, reaching down to help Miri stand. A wince crossed the woman's face at her wounds being jostled. Cera brought her over to the helicar rear passenger side and opened the door for her.

  "Who are you?" Miri asked, her tone one of disbelief.

  "Ah, just a good Samaritan, ye might say," Cera replied, just in case the man she'd hit was listening in. "I can get ye t' a doctor."

  Miri settled into the seat and tried to move her arms despite the horrific wounds.

  Cera rushed over to the other side of the helicar and got back in the driver's seat.

  Ahead, the gunman was starting to stir.

  Cera's mind raced as she considered the space around her. Because of her position, she didn't quite have enough room to pull off a three-point turn, and with the
bad guy beginning to move, she needed to get going. "I've always wanted t' try this," she said, hitting the key to activate the seat harnesses. The automated straps moved into position, holding both to their chairs. "Hang on back there!"

  With one hand on the wheel and her feet on the pedals, Cera took the shift stick for the helicar's anti-grav motors and set them to full. The car lifted into the air. In the same motion, she twisted the wheel, causing the helicar's maneuvering anti-gravs to spin the vehicle in place. As soon as the turn was past the halfway point, Cera shifted the power back down. Instead of the anti-gravs slowly lowering the craft like usual, they reduced immediately, like a submarine performing a crash-dive. The car dropped until it was just above the ground, a jarring experience that drew a pained grunt from the back seat. Cera floored the accelerator and sent the helicar forward. One last glance in the rear-view mirror told her that the gunman was still recovering. "Ha!" she called out in triumph. "That'll show th' bloody bastard, ambushin' someone like that! Bet he was a bloody slaver too!"

  Miri looked at her with a combination of gratitude and uncertainty. "Who are you?" she asked Cera.

  "Cera McGinty, at yer service," Cera announced proudly.

  At that moment, her link went off. "Cera, we've heard there's been shots," Henry said. "What's going on out there?"

  "Well, Captain, funny you should mention that—"

  Kepper was beside himself with rage as he watched the tail end of the helicar disappear around the corner of the lot aisle. He'd never had a mark slip away like that before. Had he missed an accomplice? This wouldn't have happened if that League jackass hadn't forced me to rush! Anger flooded his mind. Or if he'd told me how good they were!

  That made him think about Li. He wouldn't be happy if Kepper failed. And while he was more than willing to kill anyone Li sent to liquidate him, it would get tiring having to look over his shoulder for League assassins. Besides, Allan Kepper never failed to snag a mark. That was his promise to clients. He always got his man, or woman for that matter.

  With a snarl on his face, Kepper lifted himself to his feet and started hobbling back to the Harr'al's helicar. First things first, a visit to Doc Zuyev, to get his leg treated, and for the time he needed. That is, the time to run the plate numbers on the escape vehicle.

  19

  When the helicar pulled up with their potential passenger bleeding in the back seat, Henry found he was speechless for a moment. Mostly because he wasn't sure whether to praise Cera's initiative or yell at her for putting herself into danger without backup. Silence proved an acceptable mid-way point of the two. He climbed in the front passenger seat while Tia rushed around and climbed in behind Cera, allowing her to get to the stricken Miri Gaon. "Please, get me into the Center," Miri said hoarsely. "Please."

  "They don't have a full medical staff on-site, and you need a doctor," Henry said. He nodded to Cera. "Get us back."

  "Yes, sir."

  Miri swallowed while Tia examined her wounds, grimacing. Blood from Miri’s wounds was already soaking the cheap cloth interior. Tia pulled her jacket off and pushed it against the shoulder wound, which was worse. Miri let out a short cry of agony.

  "You're going to bleed to death if I don't," Tia warned. She noted the other wound, on Miri's side, was oozing blood as well. "Henry, I need something, she's bleeding from two wounds. It's not good."

  Despite Cera beginning a skyward ascent into the sky traffic lanes, Henry briefly released his harness to shed his jacket. He handed it back to Tia, who took it with her left hand and applied it to the second wound while her right kept the shoulder wound under pressure.

  "Get me to the center," Miri repeated, grimacing from the pain shooting through her arms.

  "It's not safe for you there," Henry said. "Whoever is after you, they know where you are."

  Tia flashed him a look. "The Union would fight for her."

  "Maybe so, but there's more than one way to take someone from a place like that," Henry replied, trying not to sound like he was insulting the ISU's ability to protect its members. "And if this guy's willing to open fire, or has buddies who will, how many spacers could get killed?"

  In the back, Miri started to slouch carefully, her hand gently moving toward the remaining pistol on her ankle.

  Tia's arm reached over and grabbed her. "We're not here to hurt you," she said to Miri. "We're here to get you to safety."

  Miri tried to fight, but with the pain in her left side and the damage to her right arm, she couldn't quite escape Tia despite the latter's awkward leverage. "Who are you people?"

  "I'm Tia Nguyen, First Mate of the Shadow Wolf, an independent ship," Tia said. "We've been hired to extract you."

  "James Henry," Henry said from the front seat. "Captain of the same ship. This is our helmswoman Cera McGinty."

  Miri let out a small sigh of relief. "I… I see. Abdul sent you."

  "If you mean Major al-Lahim, yes, he did," Henry said. "He said you were one of his once."

  "More like he was one of mine," she said softly. "I helped train him for a brief time, before I retired."

  "I'd say you made an impression, then."

  Miri imagined she did, but she didn't say so. She felt wrong, sick, and she laid her head back as sweat poured down her face. Beside her, Tia gave her a worried look. "She might be going into shock," she warned Henry and Cera.

  "Cera, get us to the spaceport as quickly as you can. Without breaking the traffic codes." Henry added the last to make sure. The Harr'al tolerated a lot of things, but violating air traffic laws for helicars was one thing he suspected they paid close attention to.

  "Goin' as fast as I can, sir," she answered.

  By that point, Henry was already bringing his commlink up. "Felix, get Oskar prepped. We've got wounded in need of medical attention."

  "Roger that," Felix said.

  Nothing more was said as the helicar sped its way on to the spaceport.

  In the seedier blocks of the Alien Quarter, Doctor Zuyev maintained a personal practice that catered primarily to the dark economy of Sektatsh, namely wounded criminals and sick slaves. Kepper watched as one such slave, a Harr'al, was pushed out of an exam room by an irate master of the same species growling something in the local language. This allowed the male Tal'mayan nurse to give Kepper entry. "Doctor Zuyev will be with you shortly," the nurse promised before closing the door.

  Kepper limped over to the bed and sat down on it. Frustration still roiled within him about the unexpected interruption, and how Li had failed to warn him of the effectiveness of the extraction team. The "independent spacers" claim felt stretched given how effectively that helicar driver had removed the mark.

  Kepper was not in the mood to talk when his link activated. The code confirmed it was Li calling it, and Kepper only answered so he could lead off with, "Independent spacers my ass, Li!"

  On the small holo-screen the commlink displayed, Li's expression turned immediately sour. "So, you failed."

  "You didn't tell me they had someone who could drive a helicar like that! What else are you hiding about this crew of so-called 'independent traders'?!"

  Li gave him a sarcastic look. "They're not operatives, Kepper. Maybe you're just overrated."

  At that moment, Kepper longed to kill Li. He could taste the fear he'd bring to the arrogant Leaguer in his final moments. He gritted his teeth and bit down the impulse. "Even if they're not operatives, they're something more than mere independent spacers! Just who the hell are these people anyway?"

  "That's privileged intelligence information. I'm afraid I can't share it," Li responded. "Should I be hiring someone else?"

  Kepper snarled. "I'm not done yet, Li. I've got their helicar number, so I'm going to track them when I'm done. You'll get your mark."

  "See that I do." With that, Li ended the call.

  Kepper forced ice-cold control into himself to prevent his anger from leading to something foolish, like pitching his link into the wall. He took in a deep breath and block
ed out the desire to do horrible things to Li until the urges went away. With control restored, he sent off the helicar number to his contact in the Sektatsh Traffic Control agency, with instructions to give him their location ASAP.

  By that point, the door opened, and Doctor Zuyev entered, bringing with him a tray of equipment. "It is not often I see you here, Kepper," he said, his English tinged with a Russian accent. "Job going bad?"

  "Unexpected complication," Kepper said, his voice stable and unemotional. "I need to get back to it."

  "Of course, of course. I will have you out shortly. You always pay well."

  That’s precisely why I pay so well.

  Li looked up from his monitor for a moment and let his irritations seethe in his mind. He wondered what he'd misjudged. Kepper's competence? The man did have quite a reputation, but perhaps it was unearned. Or did intel miss something about the Shadow Wolf?

  He looked it up. The Shadow Wolf's known crew listing, at least on League intelligence lists, was too small for the ship, so there were things about them that weren’t known. Could an operative of some sort be on the vessel?

  Or maybe it was just dumb luck. That happened.

  Either way, Li knew Admiral Hartford was not going to rest easy until Miri Gaon was in custody. Disappointing him would not do the cause any good. Li would have to make arrangements.

  It was something he wasn't bad at. With a couple of button presses, he brought up the list of assets the League had in local pirate bands and security forces. Someone would be interested in a payday to seize the Shadow Wolf and secure Miri Gaon.

  The helicar pulled into the Shadow Wolf hangar to find the unloading job completed. Henry felt relieved at that since it meant no dealing with that fussy chamberlain, especially on why he was returning with a bloodied vehicle and someone new. He darkly wondered if they'd suspect he'd "stolen" a slave away.