by Jan Domagala
“It’s a date then,” he said. Then he stopped what he was doing abruptly, his drink halfway to his mouth, all his senses on overdrive. Something was not quite right. He’d heard something that had alerted him, but to what? He wasn’t quite sure; it just felt wrong somehow.
“Are you okay?” Zara asked becoming concerned at his sudden change of mood.
“It’s nothing,” he said, not wanting to alarm her. It was then that the danger presented itself in the form of three armed men; all dressed in black from head to toe and armed with Arnov mini assault pistols. They had rushed upstairs and were in the middle of the lounge aiming their Arnov’s straight at Kurt and Zara.
“No one needs to get hurt here. If you just do as we say then it’ll be over before you know it. Slowly, put your hands on your head, you’re coming with us,” said the gunman in the middle.
“It seems that dinner may be delayed a little,” Stryder said calmly.
8
“You, Stryder, are coming with us,” said the leader of the trio.
“Okay, that’s fine by me, as long as you allow the girl to leave unharmed,” Stryder said calmly yet assertively.
“I can’t do that I’m afraid.”
“Why not? She only just arrived, she’s lost, came here for directions. Whatever this is about, she’s not part of it and is no threat to you,” Stryder argued hoping they would let her go.
“Do you expect me to believe that? How cosy you two are, yet you say you’ve only just met? I don’t think so,” countered the leader of the gunmen with a sneer.
“Then what do you intend to do?” Stryder asked, probing to learn just how much trouble they were in.
“My orders are to bring you along, it says nothing about your friend here,” was the reply. Stryder wasn’t about to leave it there; it was too non-committal.
“Well, if you can’t let her go, there’s only one other option. Think about it, if she’s lost that means someone’s waiting for her. If she turns up dead then the authorities will be all over you like a rash, not only that but Col Sec too. You do know who I am and why they told you to snatch me, don’t you?” he said.
Glances were exchanged between the other two gunmen. When the enormity of what they were involved in struck home, the leader spoke, having thought it through.
“My orders never said anything about killing anyone, so it looks like you’re coming too Missy. I’ll let them sort out what to do with you later. I’m not getting paid enough for all this shit,” he said.
“I knew I should never have accepted that offer of a drink,” Zara said in a tense voice.
Stryder turned to look at her, stared into her eyes then said, “Don’t worry, this is going to be fine, trust me. You don’t think I’m going to let you get out of our dinner date that easily do you?” He smiled and saw some of the tension in her eyes smooth away a little.
“Very touching, but before you two lovebirds can get to that dinner date, we have the little matter of ... what was it again ... oh yes, you’re coming with us. Now move it,” the gunman said sarcastically.
“You’re a funny guy, I just might tell my boss to go easy on you,” Stryder countered.
Prodding him in the back with the mini assault pistol the gunman barked, “I said move it!”
“I said I might tell him to go easy on you, that could change you know,” Stryder said.
The gunman stepped in front of him and gave him a slashing blow across the face with his pistol. The blow opened up a cut on Stryder’s left cheek.
“That’s just in case you forgot who’s in charge here. Now move,” said the gunman.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Stryder said.
“Oh, really.”
“Yep, you... I’ll kill you myself,” Stryder said and his eyes bore into the gunman’s letting him know that there was no doubt in his mind he would carry out his threat. He froze beneath the stare and a moment later, when he regained his composure he smiled, a little more nervously this time. He waved his pistol in front of Stryder then beckoned towards the stairs for them to leave.
Zara said, “Are you always such a hothead?”
“We’ll be fine, trust me,” he replied.
“You keep saying that,” she said. She stopped abruptly when she spotted something that made her catch her breath.
The cut on Kurt’s face healed almost immediately and the lead gunman saw it too. He leaned in closer to get a better view, unable to believe his eyes, saying, “What the fuck?” and that’s when Stryder made his move.
As the gunman leaned in, his guard was momentarily down. Stryder and Hardy, as instructed, had their hands on top of their heads. Stryder hit the gunman on the side of his face with a thunderous right cross from the top of his head that travelled downwards at a forty-five degree angle. He twisted his hips as he delivered the punch to put maximum force into it.
The gunman’s head was snapped sideways viciously as the blow connected and, as he was leaning forwards, had no chance to either cover up or ride it. The force of the punch stunned him causing him to rock back on his heels. His eyes rolled up inside his sockets as his senses left him.
Stryder grabbed the mini assault pistol from his grasp before the gunman fell to the floor, out cold.
Bringing up the Arnov, he strafed the other two gunmen before they had a chance to react.
The burst of plasma fire caught the gunmen across the chest sending each one flying backwards in a mist of blood as the bolts tore up their bodies.
They were dead before they hit the floor.
Quickly Stryder went over to them to check their vitals. Reaching down to each one he felt for the pulse in their necks. Finding none and satisfied they posed no further threat, he returned to the first gunman who was beginning to recover from the punch to the head. Hardy had watched the events of the last few moments without so much as a flicker and, as Stryder was checking the two dead gunmen said, “Wow, you’re good.”
Stryder stood over the prone gunman watching intently as he showed signs of recovery and, without taking his eyes off him, said, “Thanks. You’re a cool customer yourself. What are you really doing here?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said remaining composed.
“What are you, local Constabulary, Col Sec, Recon Delta? We’ve just been confronted by three armed men. You watched me neutralise one, and then take the other two out without as much as a gasp. No screams, no histrionics, why is that do you think? If you were who you said you were, just a passing tourist looking for directions, then surely what just happened here would’ve caused you at least some concern, unless you are used to being ‘under fire’ as it were?” Stryder said as he stood astride the gunman. As he began to move a bit more, Stryder placed his right foot between his shoulder blades and holding the Arnov in his right hand, pressed the muzzle against the back of the intruder’s skull.
“Don’t move,” he said. Then, secure in the knowledge the gunman was, for the moment under control, he turned his head to look at her.
“Well, who sent you?” he asked.
As he looked at her he watched her expression change suddenly from blank to surprised and he knew immediately that something had happened behind him.
He turned to see two more gunmen had reached the top of the stairs. Armed also with Arnovs, they were preparing to fire.
Stryder brought the Arnov he was holding up as fast as he could and let loose a burst of plasma fire. Never expecting to hit them, the salvo had the desired effect of making the newcomers retreat down the stairs using the wall for cover.
“Quick move!” ordered Stryder as he struck the gunman at his feet to the head with the pistol to prevent him following. Pushing Hardy towards the veranda he quickly closed the patio doors behind them.
“Oh great, that’ll stop ’em,” she said.
“Toughened glass,” he replied.
“Where do we go from here?” she asked becoming uneasy, thinking they were trapped with no cover.
; “We jump,” Stryder said and headed for the railing. He climbed over it and facing away from the house prepared to jump to the ground some fifteen feet below.
“Are you crazy?” she asked her voice going up an octave. Just then plasma fire struck the patio doors as the gunmen fired at them.
“A little, yes,” Stryder replied then jumped.
“Oh shit!” she exclaimed as she followed him over the railing. She steadied herself, and then also jumped.
Stryder dropped the fifteen feet with his feet together and on landing, allowed his legs to bend at the knees to absorb the impact, then rolled as he had been taught by his parachute instructor back in basic training.
Getting to his feet as quickly as he could, he prepared to help Hardy on her landing which he had no doubt she would make with no trouble at all. He had detected within a very short time an iron resolve in the young woman.
She followed him to the floor and, making a landing similar to his, got to her feet with only a little urging from him.
“Okay, where to now?” she asked hurriedly. It seemed to her that they had only delayed the inevitable.
“Now we get out of here,” he replied walking to a door that at first she hadn’t seen.
Stryder placed his hand to what, at first glance, seemed to be part of the design on the wall. A light shone beneath as a sensor read his palm print. One section of the wall slid upwards and around the inside of the ceiling of the chamber it revealed.
“Impressive,” Hardy conceded as she followed him inside the spacious garage. Stryder was climbing inside the driver’s console of the vehicle on the right. Of the two vehicles inside the garage this one looked the fastest. It was a bright red CIV sports hatch, one of the fastest vehicles on the road. The Celeron Independent Vehicles sports hatch was capable of speeds up to two hundred miles an hour.
Hardy got into the passenger seat alongside Stryder who had already primed the fuel cell that powered the sleek ground car.
“Hold on,” he said as the engine roared into life and as he pressed the accelerator the sports hatch sped out of the garage.
Hardy was pressed back into the racing-style bucket seat as the sports hatch left the confines of the garage. It slammed sideways as Stryder threw the car into a power slide navigating a tight turn along the narrow track that led onto the road that ran past his villa.
She reached for the harness and strapped it on once the car was going in a straight line again.
As the car sped past the front of his villa, Stryder saw the other two gunmen exit his home, followed rather groggily by the leader of the first group. They got into a CIV Marauder SUV and sped after them, tyres spinning on the track until they gained the proper purchase needed from the road.
“What happens now?” Hardy asked, her voice calm despite the tension of the situation.
“We get away, then figure out who those thugs are and who sent them,” Stryder said as he concentrated on his driving. The road was narrow, twisting and therefore inherently dangerous.
There was a small coastal town a few miles from the villa, after which the road widened to three lanes before it reached Jacksonville.
“I never saw your ground car as we left my villa,” he said not looking at her.
“It was up the track some distance away,” she replied.
“You never answered my question. Who sent you?” he asked again.
“Are you always this suspicious of callers asking for directions?” she countered.
Stryder glanced at her, and then returned his concentration to the road ahead. It was obvious to him that he would not learn much from her if he pushed too hard. Ahead of them was the small town of Haven. It stretched out along the coast with an array of shops and restaurants, many of the latter actually on the beach.
The main narrow road snaked its way through the town with several streets branching off and leading farther inland.
They were a few hundred feet from the town’s limits when plasma fire struck the rear compartment of the sports hatch.
“They are getting serious about us not getting away,” Hardy said, becoming concerned when the plasma fire made the car buck and stutter across the narrow road.
“Losing some of their team has a tendency to do that,” Stryder replied.
He corrected his steering towards Haven and once more plasma fire rocked their car.
“Now they’re beginning to piss me off,” Stryder snarled.
“But what can we do about them?” Hardy asked.
“This,” Stryder said, and grabbing the emergency brake, he pulled it on and spun the wheel throwing the car into a sideways skid which he controlled perfectly, bringing the car to a stop across the road and effectively blocking it.
He opened the glove box and reached inside to find a Sig P996 before opening the driver’s door and tumbling out of the vehicle.
“Come on,” he told Hardy and quickly she unfastened her harness and climbed out after him.
The following SUV just had time to screech to a halt to avoid slamming into Stryder’s vehicle. The three gunmen tumbled out of the SUV still holding their Arnov mini assault pistols.
Stryder by that time had positioned himself at the side of his car using it as cover. He stood with his arms outstretched on top of the sports hatch holding the Sig in a two-handed grip resting his arms on the roof of the car to steady his aim.
Having already checked and primed the battery clip in the Sig, he was ready to rock and roll.
Once the gunmen appeared out of the SUV he didn’t give them any warning. They had already opened the hostilities so he simply aimed and fired a two-shot burst at each gunman.
The full power pulsed plasma bolts struck each gunman in the face knocking them backwards in a mist of blood as their heads were obliterated.
They were dead before they hit the ground.
“Remind me never to piss you off,” Hardy said as she looked across at him.
He smiled at her when he saw her reaction to the cold way he had dispatched the three chasing gunmen and then said, “We’re going to have some trouble explaining this little incident to the local Constabulary.”
“I agree,” she said looking across at the SUV and the three dead bodies lying there.
“As much as I hate to admit it I think we’re going to need some help with this,” he said activating his NI.
9
After he made the call and put Sinclair in the picture as to what had happened, Stryder returned to the villa along with Hardy to await the arrival of the clean up squad.
The clean up squad was split into two teams. The first team dealt with the most urgent issue of an abandoned SUV with three dead bodies alongside it on the road just outside one of the most popular resort towns on the planet and everything that entailed, whilst the second team went directly to the villa where they found Stryder and Hardy waiting patiently.
The team, consisting of four men, entered the lounge and fanned out to reveal a fifth member, General Sinclair.
Stryder was standing on the veranda, the blast-scarred patio doors wide open to allow the smell of death to escape, leaning against the railing his back to the ocean, his powerful arms folded across his chest. When he saw them arrive he smiled and said, “Why am I not surprised?”
“Afternoon Kurt, seems you’ve had a busy day,” Sinclair said smiling.
“General, I should’ve expected you to show up soon, especially considering all the trouble you went to placing Hardy here,” Stryder said.
Looking down at the two dead bodies Sinclair said, “Any idea who these people were or who sent them?”
“None, sir. Why did you send Hardy to keep tabs on me?” he asked after leaving the veranda to stand next to the General.
“Who?” asked Sinclair in his dull monotone voice, giving nothing away.
“The young girl over there. You might as well tell me General. She’s good from what I’ve seen so far. Now we can play games with this if you want; I can pretend it’s purely
coincidence when I keep running into her over the next few days until this is sorted. Or you could recall her, and try with someone else. Or you could come clean and leave her with me and the two of us could work together, it’s your call.”
Sinclair glanced at Hardy, then back at Stryder. Placing the girl on Celeron had been a hasty decision, he had to admit, but one that he had been forced to make. He had wanted her to get to know Kurt before the Alliance made their move. She was supposed to act as his back up and as a liaison to Sinclair personally, should they have trouble keeping tabs on him. The attempt to take Kurt out came as a bit of a surprise to them all. His plans had not taken root and now it seemed were in danger of unravelling. It went against his best instincts but he came to a decision.
“Okay, she can stay.”
“What’s Hardy’s security clearance for this, sir, has she been briefed on the project?” Stryder replied, remaining where he stood. Hardy was sitting on a lounger on the far side of the veranda out of earshot, nervously clasping her hands as if unsure what to do with them.
Sinclair barked a few instructions at the clean up team then walked out onto the veranda leaving them to get on with their work.
“Not thoroughly,” he said as he came and sat next to her.
“Don’t you think you should, considering you sent her to keep tabs on me?” Stryder said following the General onto the veranda.
Hardy looked up at Stryder and a hint of a smile fleetingly crossed her lips, which she quickly suppressed.
“Excuse me?” she said, keeping to her cover story as she looked from Stryder to Sinclair.
Sinclair gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head, which told her that the game was up. “It’s okay Miss Hardy, he knows the truth,” he said.
“Are you ordering me to stay, sir?” she asked.
“I’ve already told you that you won’t get out of our dinner date so easily,” Stryder said with a smile.
She looked away turning her gaze to the floor and still trying to process what she had seen earlier. Had she really seen Stryder’s face heal in the blink of an eye, or was it just a figment of her imagination brought on by the adrenalin rush of the action? She had an idea that whatever it was she had been ordered into was something strange and that she would soon learn what she needed to know.
