“No. Captain Farrell’s men are taking him in. I reckon you’ll want to have a rummage around his office before Farrell decides to come up and take over?”
“Absolutely. How come you seem to be no worse for wear?
“A thick skull, I reckon. I’ll delay Farrell as long as possible.”
Captain Bryce turned towards Pragnorton and deliberately looked him over, in an insulting way. Then said, “You’d better come with me before someone decides to rub you out after all.”
Pragnorton wasn’t about to tangle with the SWAT captain, so he edged past Michael and walked on down the stairs to where Captain Farrell’s team was waiting.
“The medical team will be here in a couple of minutes, Michael. I’ll see you later.”
“I hope so Captain.”
With that, Captain Bryce followed Pragnorton down the stairs.
As they left, Arnos came over. Michael could see that he had tears in his eyes.
“Sorry Michael, Trent was a pain in the ass sometimes. But, he was a good friend.”
“I understand. Come on the rest of you; let’s see if we can find enough information to take the assassin’s guild down once and for all.”
Chapter 18
Tragedy
Michael’s team, along with Erica and Barry, arrived back at the safe house at 1:15 in the morning, feeling tired and depressed.
The house was illuminated by the streetlights that remained lit throughout the night in this area. Making it easier for them to park their cars in the order that they would take when leaving again after the inevitable debriefing.
Once inside they all went straight into the sitting area, and, poured themselves a stiff drink, then sat down and drank in silence.
“Perry’s gone straight home, Michael,” Erica eventually said, breaking the gloomy silence.
Michael put his empty glass on the table and studied her for a moment without answering while absently caressing the Butcher’s loaded weapon that he’d put on the small table in front of him.
“Sorry about Trent, Michael,” Barry added, trying to bring Michael out of his stupor. “That Captain Farrell’s a miserable specimen of a human being. But the medics were pleasant enough,” he nervously added.
Nevertheless, Michael was still pondering on what Pragnorton had said to him.
You will all be dead before the day is out, he had whispered.
Erica, hearing a Helo approaching, put her glass down then stood up and walked over to the window overlooking the Helo pad. Which was at the far end of the Close, and just one hundred and fifteen metres away,
“Michael. It looks as if a Helo’s coming in to land,” she said as she turned back to face them.
Her words seemed to jolt Michael out of his thoughts about Pragnorton, and he got up to have a look.
“H’m. It’s a strange time for someone to land here,” he remarked, as he saw the Helo coming down.
The rest of them got to their feet. With Arnos and Barry instinctively removing their revolvers from their shoulder holsters. While Judith stood silently watching the scene.
Michael noticed that the Helo’s side door was open then saw some thin looking objects protrude through the opening.
“Down!” Michael yelled as he saw them, but too late.
They saw a flash, then a violent explosion was heard as their window shattered.
Then, in what seemed like a slow-motion action, the glass particles collapsed back into the void created by the blast. Then expanded with a rush of searing heat and force that sent the fragments back into the room in a screaming torrent of glass and metal.
Erica’s body jerked violently as it was torn in two, the force of the explosion sending her upper body towards Judith.
Her torso, spurting blood and bone as it went, slammed hard into Judith’s chest sending her sprawling backwards to the floor.
Then a hail of gunfire, from the Helo, crashed into the room, blasting the rear wall, and filling the air with showers of plaster and dust.
The shooting continued for more than thirty seconds. Then came utter silence.
Arnos was the first to move and gingerly peer around the edge of the window frame. Then Michael and Barry stirred and looked around the room assessing the situation.
The gruesome lower torso of Erica’s body was lying on the floor, with blood slowly leaching from it.
Michael had seen this sort of mutilation before, it was an unfortunate consequence of working with an organisation that was battling terrorism. Seeing it here in his safe house like this, however, was something else.
Then he looked around to see where the rest of her body was, and gasped as he saw it laying on top of Judith.
“Judith,” he urgently called out.
Then breathed a sigh of relief as he saw that Judith, having been knocked unconscious for a moment, was slowly coming around.
Judith lay there dazed. Her body felt heavy and ached like hell. Then she realised that Erica was lying on top of her and looking directly into her eyes.
However, Erica’s eyes didn’t seem right, and her face had a frozen look of fright.
Instinctively reacting, Judith scrambled to push Erica off. Then saw that only half of Erika’s body had been on top of her.
She tried to hold back a scream but failed.
“Michael. They’re getting ready to finish us. Our revolvers won’t help us from this distance,” Arnos yelled.
“Michael,” he repeated. “We need to do something. Now,” Arnos urged.
Michael held his hand up in acknowledgement, then the three of them turned their attention back to the Helo.
Meanwhile, Judith stood up, and then brushed the pieces of plaster and bloody remnants off her face and clothes.
Her body still felt like it had been through the wringer, and her breasts were throbbing with pain. She quickly felt them making sure they weren’t damaged.
Then, having recovered her composure sufficiently joined the others in their discussion on how to proceed.
Michael was worried. “We could try to get to my armoured car. However, with no covering fire, we might not make it. Even if we did, with their firepower, the windscreen would probably shatter as soon as we got closer to them. So they'd win.”
“There’s got to be a way… What about going out the back, on foot?” Barry suggested.
“We could try. But with all these street lights on, it’s going to be dangerous?”
“Yeah, but some of the neighbours’ lights have also come on. Maybe they’ve reported the incident already, and help will arrive soon.
“Maybe, but it’ll probably still be too late,” Arnos said.
“What do you think, Judith…?” Michael asked as he turned to look at her.
“Judith…?”
Judith was nowhere to be seen.
“What the hell’s going on?” Arnos shouted out. “Michael, quick. Your car’s on the move.”
“Oh no. It’s Judith…she’s in it.”
Michael grabbed the Butcher’s gun as saw his armoured car surge off down the driveway with Judith at the wheel.
She was heading straight for the Close and the Helo.
Michael knew that, at this range, the shot from the Butcher’s gun would have little energy left by the time it got close to the target.
However, if he could aim high enough, it might reach the Helo and, at least, distract them from shooting at the car.
He quickly aimed at a point just above the Helo’s rotor. Then fired. He heard the whining sound as the shot sped towards its target, but it fell short.
Then the Helo’s weapons opened up on Judith’s car as it crossed the road into the Close.
Michael fumbled for another cartridge from his pocket. He quickly opened the weapon’s breach. Removed the spent cartridge, and inserted another into the chamber. Then closed it. Aimed again, and fired the gun.
This time, he aimed at a point well above the rotors.
Judith had almost reached the Helo wh
en the car’s windshield shattered. At the same time, Michael’s weapon discharged.
Then, as the shot reached its target, the pellets that had sounded like a swarm of angry wasps as they whizzed through the air, disrupted the Helo’s firepower. While the armoured car ploughed on and crashed into the Helo, crushing it and its occupants.
“Come on,” Michael ordered as he clambered out through the opening where the window used to be.
All three ran across the road, and on up the Close to the mangled wreckage lying in the road. Michael managed to reload the Butcher’s weapon before reaching the Helo, just in case he needed to use it again.
Once there, it soon became evident that everyone in the Helo, except the pilot, had been killed. While Judith could be seen still sitting in the mangled car.
Her body had been forced upright by the constraint of her seatbelt. While her head, having been pushed hard back by the action of the airbag, was now hanging down. With the remnants of the now deflated airbag and its contents clearly seen on her front.
“Ignore the pilot,” Michael snapped. “Judith’s more important,”
Then the three of them tried to work their way through to Judith. Desperately pulling the twisted metal of the car out of the way.
She wasn’t moving. She looked dead. “Judith…No, don’t you dare die on me,” Michael burst out, tears running down his cheeks as he saw blood on the parts of her face and body not covered by the airbag. “Don’t you dare die on me?”
The sound of sirens approaching gave him heart, and, now that the fighting had ended, people began coming out of their houses to help them.
A man came running over, dressed only in his dressing gown but clutching a small bag.
“Get that door open. Quickly,” he ordered. “But, don’t move her! I’m Doctor Stratton.”
The driver’s door was quickly forced open. Then Michael steadied Judith’s head while Arnos took his knife out to cut the seatbelt off her.
“Judith. Stay with us,” he pleaded. “We’ve a score to settle, Judith.”
The doctor opened her blood soaked top while checking for a pulse. “H’m it’s faint, but it’s there,” he said.
“Now. There’s bruising…here. However, there’s too much blood. I can’t see any lacerations that would account for this amount of blood on her chest.”
“It’s not all hers,” Barry told him, then sunk down on the ground sobbing, knowing it was Erika’s blood.
“I’ll give her an injection, to stabilise her in the short term. She’ll have a better chance when we get her to the hospital,” Doctor Stratton said, as he prepared the injection.
Then turned and looked at each man for a moment, as if weighing up his roles in this incidence. Before looking back at the damaged safe house.
“OK. I’ll check the pilot now.”
“No,” Michael ordered. “Not until Judith is safely on her way to the hospital.”
Stratton saw something in Michael’s expression and decided to do as he had been told.
Then Arnos walked over to the pilot, still alive, but trapped in the Helo’s damaged cockpit.
The pilot saw Arnos approach. Saw the revolver pointing at his head. But saw nothing else, as Arnos pulled the trigger and ended his life.
Doctor Stratton seeing this was appalled at Arnos’s action. But, said nothing.
Just then, the Ambulance swerved into the Close.
“What are her chances, Doctor?” Michael asked.
“We won’t know until she’s been fully checked over.”
“What are her chances?” Michael repeated, showing his irritation.
“I can’t see any visible damage. So, hopefully, better than fifty percent.”
“Come along, sir, let us do our job,” one of the medics whispered to Michael, trying to get him to leave. Michael stayed where he was, and repeated his earlier words in her ear. “Don’t you bloody die on me?”
“What’s her name, sir?”
“Judith Morante. She’s got a medical card on her.”
“Thank you, sir,” the medic said.
Michael watched, as they removed Judith from the car. Then gently placed her on a stretcher and put her in the Ambulance.
“Are you coming with us, Sir?” the Medic asked.
“I’ll catch up… Which hospital are you going to?”
“Silver Cross.”
Michael was deep in thought as he watched the Ambulance drive off.
His thoughts were pure and simple. Whether Judith lived or died, he would make sure that the Assassins Guild would pay for this.
Especially, Stewart Pragnorton.
Chapter 19
Encounter
“Well?” Captain Traven asked.
Paul looked up from his Astroscope.
“Seems we’re still about three degrees off our calculated trajectory, Captain.”
“That far out. How about you, Tommy?”
“I agree with Paul. We’re not quite there, after all.”
“Can we manoeuvre?”
“Yes, but only by about one and a half degrees. Certainly no more with the amount of fuel remaining.”
“Damn,” Traven exclaimed. Then thought about it for a moment.
“Wait. If I remember correctly Jeff reckoned he’d eventually be able to produce the Biofuel for the Jets,” he said, sounding excited.
Then called, Hydroponics. “Yes, Captain. What do you want?”
“Jeff. Do you remember telling me a while ago that you could produce Biofuel for our jets?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Is that still do-able?”
Jeff paused to think about it.
“Yes. It’s possible, but it’ll take about eighteen months to produce enough fuel to be worthwhile.”
“OK, so what modifications would we need to make, to enable the fuel to run the jets?”
“I’m pretty sure you’d only need to open the fuel regulator to cater for the lower combustion level.”
Traven looked at Tommy, questioningly.
“Yea, that should be OK, Jeff,” Tommy replied. “I control the feed rate for the Jets from here anyway.”
“There’s one thing you’ll need to make sure of, though. You’ll have to run the fuel heaters four to five degrees higher, to help the fuel to atomise.”
“We can manage that,” Nick confirmed.
“Good, thanks, Jeff,” John said, ending the call.
“There. You have it from the horse’s mouth. You might as well use the fuel up and get us closer to our intended course, Tommy,” John ordered.
“And, what if a dirty great lump of rock comes and pushes us off course?” Henry asked.
“It wouldn’t matter,” Tommy put in, “If that happened, there wouldn’t be enough fuel left to get us back on course again, anyway.”
“So, when are we going to do it?” Paul asked.
“I would have thought as soon as we’re sure Earth’s tracking systems are no longer locked onto us.
What about it Henry?”
“I don’t think they’re able to track us any longer, Captain. Don’t forget, we’ve already disabled the transponder. So, they only have their Optical and Radio telescopes with which to locate us.” Henry said.
“Well, our footprint at the widest point is, of course, the pusher plate. That’s about a hundred metres wide. No, it’ll be alright. It’s far too small by now,” he added.
“I agree,” Paul said. “It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“Ok Tommy, count it down. Let’s see... Let’s say, for ten minutes.”
“Paul, Henry, feed the correction sync burst data to me now, please.
“On it Tommy.”
Ten minutes later, the two sets of steering jets that were mounted, one at each end of the non-rotating section of the ship, commenced their attempt to move the Acarea closer to the correct heading.
“Two and a half minutes and we’ll be out of fuel,” Tommy informed.
&nbs
p; “Fifteen seconds!”
Then a sputtering sound permeated the ship, as the Jets ran out of fuel. “Damn, nine seconds short,” Tommy exclaimed.
“Paul, Henry, what are your readings now?”
No one spoke for a few moments as they checked the ship’s new alignment results.
“Systems are functioning correctly,” Henry concluded. “Whatever readings Paul and Tommy are getting, they’re correct, equipment wise.”
“I still make it about one degree off,” Paul confirmed. “Maybe a little less. I’ll be able to be more accurate when I’ve been up to the tracking telescope and made some more observations. I know that we can see what the tracking telescope is picking up on our screens, but taking observations from the Domes, well, that’s something else.”
“Yes, I agree. My navigation readings are the same as Paul’s,” Tommy confirmed.
“Ok. So, do we all agree that we’ll be quite a way off our new course heading if we can’t make another correction in the next couple of years?” Traven asked them.
“Yes,” Tommy impatiently replied. “And, if we can’t, we’ll miss Pavonis altogether,” he added.
“Well, let’s hope Jeff can come up with the fuel.”
“Yes, but don’t forget that we need enough fuel, to make the course changes and to then turn the ship around when we close in on Delta Pavonis,” Henry added
“Yes. And, when we try to land this tub,” Nick pointed out.
“True enough,” John said thoughtfully. But we have almost sixty years in which to generate sufficient fuel.”
“OK, I’m off to Dome one, I but it’s lonely up there, so if anyone wants to join me, they’re welcome.”
“I’ll come up in a while, Paul. Just need to finish a few things off.”
“OK, Captain.”
With that, Paul left for the forward observation domes. He loved Astrophysics, and the thrill he still got from viewing the stars. He had studied Astronomy when he was a child and knew the prominent stars and constellations off by heart.
Acarea. A Triumph or Disaster? (SpaceFed StarShips Series Book 5): A Novel by Gerry A. Saunders (SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy) Page 14
