Siege on Star Cruise 239

by Tripp Ellis

  “I think I am sufficiently motivated,” Winston said. “I need another few minutes to complete my objective.”

  “You’ve got five minutes.” Tobias tapped his earbud. “Marco, have you found Carson?”

  “I’m just outside the compartment.”

  “Bring him down immediately. My faith in the robot is dwindling.”

  “Roger that,” Marco said. He opened the hatch and stepped into the stateroom.

  Carson was still on the floor, hogtied with his hands and feet behind his back and the grenade precariously between his feet. His legs were numb and trembling from being in the same position for so long, trying to maintain pressure on the spoon of the grenade. His face was pale and his skin was drenched with sweat. But his eyes sparkled with relief at the site of Marco. “Thank God! I’ve been sitting here, screaming for hours. Are you people deaf?”

  “Maybe I should just leave you in here?” Marco was half serious as he turned for the hatch.

  “No. No. Better late than never,” Carson said. In his excitement, his feet shifted and the tension on the grenade went slack. The explosive dropped to the deck with a thunk.

  Carson’s eyes widened. Terror filled his face.

  Marco dove for the grenade. He snatched it from the deck and tossed it into the bedroom.

  The grenade bounced off the far bulkhead, landed on the bed, then rolled to the floor by the dresser.

  The grenade exploded in a blinding flash of light. The boom was deafening. Everything went silent for Marco and Carson as shrapnel sprayed in all directions, pinging off the bulkheads. The incendiary liquid gel splattered the bedroom, setting the comforter on fire. Amber flames flickered, and the compartment soon filled with smoke.

  “Are you okay?” Marco asked.

  “What?” Carson couldn’t hear a thing.

  Marco looked him over and didn’t see any apparent injuries. Marco checked himself, patting his torso and legs—no wounds.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. His heart was still racing. He didn’t know why he had leapt for the grenade—he didn’t particularly like Carson or the other nerd, Chad. But it was instinctual. Years of military service had ingrained a selfless camaraderie in him.

  Marco staggered to his feet and grabbed an extinguisher that was affixed to the bulkhead. He trudged into the smoke-filled bedroom and put out the fire before it spread. His lungs filled with smoke and he coughed like a three pack a day smoker.

  He stumbled back into the living area, trying to wave the smoke out of his face. It was spilling out of the bedroom into the central compartment, collecting toward the ceiling. He pulled a tactical knife from a scabbard affixed to his belt. He knelt down and cut Carson loose.

  The nerd’s appendages sprang free, stiff and sore. He rubbed his wrists where the restraints had grooved and irritated his skin. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

  “Feel free to give me an extra bonus out of your share,” Marco said with a grin. It was hard to tell if he was serious, or if he had said it in jest.

  Marco extended his hand and helped Carson from the deck.

  The explosion from the grenade had rumbled through the entire ship. The muffled sound rattled through the corridor by the vault.

  Tobias’s face tensed. What else could go wrong, he wondered? He tapped his earbud. “Marco, is everything okay?” he asked tentatively.

  Marco’s voice filtered through his earbud. “Everything’s fine. I’ll have Carson down to you momentarily.”

  By the time Marco had arrived with the nerd, Winston had already bypassed the security system and opened the vault.

  A wide grin played on Tobias’s face.

  “I still get my share, right?” Carson asked, his face filled with concern as he watched the massive door swing open.

  Tobias sighed. “I suppose so. There is more than enough to go around.”

  There was a delightful gleam in Tobias’s eyes, like a child on Christmas morning. Tobias strolled into the impenetrable vault like a king surveying his riches.

  The displays on all of the safe boxes flashed green. Winston had bypassed every security measure. They were all ready and waiting to be pilfered, but Tobias was only interested in one of them.

  Tobias glanced to Winston. “I assume you have access to all passenger records?”

  “Yes. I have a full listing of every safe box, and the passenger associated.”

  “Which box belongs to Declan Vanderbilt?”

  “777,” Winston replied.

  Tobias smiled. He moved to the box and opened it. Inside, Vanderbilt’s briefcase rested in the chamber. Tobias pulled it out and set it on the table in the center of the room. His eyes found Carson’s. “It’s time for you to earn your keep.”

  Carson stepped before the case and pulled a smart glove out of his pocket. He pulled it on his hand and activated the glove. It sized to fit his hand perfectly. The surface of the glove reproduced Vanderbilt’s fingerprints. The tycoons fingerprints had been acquired by a pleasure bot during an illicit encounter on Vega Epsilon 6.

  Carson placed his gloved hand on the bio scanner, and the briefcase unlatched.

  Tobias’s eyes flickered with anticipation as Carson lifted the lid. But his beaming smile fell, and his face tensed, flashing red with anger.

  The case was empty.

  32

  Marco slammed Vanderbilt’s face onto the table next to the briefcase. He had pulled the tycoon out of the cargo bay and dragged him to the vault. Marco kept his heavy hand pressed against Vanderbilt’s cheek, mashing him against the surface of the table.

  “Where is it?” Tobias asked calmly.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Tobias placed the barrel of his pistol against Vanderbilt’s head. “Do you know what I’m talking about now?”

  Vanderbilt said nothing.

  “Now, Mr. Vanderbilt, I’m sure you would consider your own life more valuable than your possessions? Let’s make it easy on both of us, shall we?”

  Vanderbilt didn’t have to think about this too long. “Its in a small carry-on bag in my stateroom.”

  “Impressive. I should've known this was all a diversion." Tobias’s eyes glanced to Marco. "Find out if he’s lying. Take him with you."

  Marco pulled Vanderbilt off the table and flung him into the corridor like a rag-doll.

  He marched the sophisticated man down the corridor and into the stairwell, ascending toward his luxury stateroom.

  "Whatever you are making, I will pay you double,” Vanderbilt offered.

  "Shut up and keep moving." Marco was loyal. He wasn't going to budge.

  They weaved their way through the corridors to Vanderbilt's luxurious compartment. It was nothing short of opulent. It was a sprawling compartment, elegantly decorated. The transparent roof opened to the cosmos, just like the pool deck. The tint could be adjusted and completely blacked out, if so desired.

  "Can I offer you a cocktail? A sandwich? You must be hungry." Vanderbilt remained a gentleman in all circumstances.

  "I want what we came here for!” Marco's tense face glared at him. "And don't try anything funny."

  Marco kept his weapon aimed Vanderbilt as he cautiously marched the tycoon into the bedroom.

  Vanderbilt gestured to a bag atop the dresser. "It's right there. See for yourself."

  Marco wasn't about to trust the man. "Step back, turn around, and place your hands against the bulkhead.”

  Vanderbilt complied.

  Marco moved to the dresser and carefully unzipped the bag while keeping his rifle aimed at the mogul. Marco's eyes went wide and filled with wonder at the sight of the object contained within the bag. It was exactly what they been looking for. A bluish glow emanated from the luggage, underlighting Marco’s face. It made him look demonic.

  Marco quickly zipped the bag up and hoisted it from the dresser. It was heavier than he had anticipated.

  "Satisfied?" Vanderbilt asked.

  Marco nodded. Now he had to
decide whether to kill Vanderbilt, or put him back in the cargo bay with the rest of the passengers.

  Max's face looked the color of a bruised eggplant. Her eyes were full of blood, and there were multiple lacerations on her face.

  Surge had to grow tired of punching Max at some point, but she didn't look like she was going to let up anytime soon. Fortunately for Max, Tobias’s voice crackled in Surge's earbud.

  "The object is secure. We’ll be emerging from slide-space shortly. The Celestial Voyager should collide with Andromeda Station within 15 minutes of emerging from the quantum jump. I'd advise you to get to the flight deck before that time."

  "Copy that." Surge’s vicious eyes flicked to Max. “Looks like this is the end of the road.” She flashed a bittersweet smile. She brought her pistol to Max's forehead, her finger wrapped around the trigger. The barrel was so close Max could smell the metal and oil and the remnants of gunpowder.

  Max looked up at the cyborg. She could see the conflict in her eyes. Surge wasn't going to be satisfied by putting a bullet in Max's brain. Too easy. Too quick.

  "I should just leave you to die in the wreckage." Surge grinned.

  Max’s eyes widened.

  “By the time they finish sifting through the debris of the station, we’ll be long gone.”

  "Don't you wonder?" Max asked.

  Surge’s face twisted up. "Wonder what?"

  "Who would have won in a fair fight?"

  "A fair fight implies that we are evenly matched, but we both know I am superior."

  Max scoffed.

  Surge's face tightened with anger.

  “If you don't think you can take me, I understand?" Max was doing her best to egg the cyborg on.

  “Are we living in the same galaxy? Cause I remember kicking your ass on the catwalk." Surge pondered the situation for a moment. She looked like she was going to take the bait for a second, then she wised up. "Sorry. Nice try. Maybe in the next life."

  Surge holstered the pistol, spun around, and marched toward the exit.

  She was almost to the hatch when Max called after her. "You know, when I killed Rex, I found an engagement ring in his pocket. I think the poor dumb bastard was actually going to ask you to marry him. I'm not entirely sure who was getting the worse end of the deal. It's too bad I had to fill him full of holes."

  Surge stopped in her tracks. Her face turned fire-engine red, and the veins in her forehead pulsed. She spun around and stomped towards Max with an angry snarl on her face. "Alright, you little piece of shit. I'm gonna beat you to death with my fist.”

  Surge grabbed Max and lifted her from the deck, chair and all. She heaved Max across the compartment, slamming her into a vertical tank.

  The chair bent and twisted. It gave Max just enough room to squeeze out of her bonds. She slipped from the ropes just as Surge was upon her. Before Max could stagger to her feet Surge hauled off and kicked her in the face.

  Max flopped back, slamming into the tank. Blood spewed from her already mangled lips. Max looked like she'd been hit in the face with a bag of hammers, with a few bricks thrown in for good measure. Pain rifled through her body. Everything ached. This whole being normal thing was starting to suck.

  Max grabbed the mangled chair and cracked Surge in the shins with it. The hit dropped the cyborg to the deck. Max sprang to her feet and planted her knee if Surge’s face. The cyborg’s nose flattened, and she toppled back against the deck.

  Max pulled her up and slammed a fist into the cyborg’s face repeatedly, driving her back in between the two massive thrusters.

  Max swung another hard right, but this time Surge grabbed her fist with her titanium hand. Her metallic fingers clamped down like a vice, squeezing Max's fist. Her bones felt like they were going to crumble.

  Surge twisted Max's arm behind her back and slammed her into the side of one of the engine cowlings. Max’s mangled face smacked the side of the massive cylinder. It was hot and seared her cheek. Max could smell the putrid stench of her own burning flesh.

  Surge grabbed Max by the hair and pounded her face against the metal. Her cheeks clanked against the thruster, reverberating through the cavernous compartment.

  Max elbowed Surge in the ribs, stomped her foot, then spun around and threw an uppercut that connected with Surge’s chin. Her teeth mashed together, and the blow popped her head back. The cyborg staggered back a few steps.

  Max leapt into the air, kicking her in the chest, sending her tumbling back against the opposite thruster.

  A hint of concern washed on Surge’s face. time was running out, and she was beginning to wonder why she was taking such a risk engaging in hand to hand combat. She drew her pistol and took aim at Max. She was going to finish it the easy way.

  But Max hit the gun with a roundhouse kick, knocking it to the deck. It slid toward the hatch, out of reach.

  Surge charged Max, driving her back like an NFL lineman, slamming her against the opposite thruster. Surge put a knee in Max’s belly, then threw a right cross, pummeling Max’s cheek. Her face was pinned between the cyborg’s metal fist and the thruster. Max felt like her head was going to crack like a melon.

  Surge grabbed her and heaved Max toward the glowing energy beam. It crackled and popped like a giant bug zapper. Surge clutched a fistful of Max's hair, pushing her face close to the arcing beam. The blue glow illuminated their faces.

  The brilliant power arc was enough to blind a person, if they looked at it long enough. Max resisted with all her might as Surge pushed her toward the beam. Max’s muscles were weak, and her body was shaking.

  Surge pushed her face closer to the beam. In a matter of moments, what was left of Max's face would be melted into oblivion.

  33

  Max's face was perilously close to the energy beam. She summoned every ounce of strength she had remaining and pushed back against Surge.

  Max slipped aside and spun around, throwing a hard left. Her fist pummeled Surge in the gut. She doubled over, and Max planted a sharp elbow in the cyborg’s spine. Surge staggered forward and Max kicked her in the back, sending her tumbling into the beam.

  Surge’s metallic parts wreaked havoc with the energy flow. It arced wildly, conducting through her metal body parts. The beam sparked and popped. Surge’s body twitched and convulsed as she was seared to a crisp. Smoke wafted, and the air was filled with a sharp acrid scent.

  Max ran for cover, scooping up Surge’s pistol from the deck. There was no telling what was going to happen next. The thruster could explode from the obstructed energy beam.

  Max sprinted for the hatch and exited the compartment. She sealed the hatch behind her and gave a last look into the compartment, peering through the polycarbonate viewport. The thruster was still sparking wildly.

  Max felt a quantum distortion ripple through the ship as the Celestial Voyager exited slide-space. If what Surge had said was true, the ship on a collision course with Andromeda Station.

  Tobias strolled across the flight deck toward the SpaceLife™ dropship. It was his escape plan. He planned to make a slide-space jump from within the flight bay just before the Celestial Voyager impacted the massive space station. The quantum signature from such a small ship would be relatively low, and the authorities would be distracted by the Celestial Voyager, and the destructive aftermath of the collision. By the time they realized what had happened, Tobias and his minions would be long gone.

  Yuri followed along, dragging Hannah in tow. Tobias figured it was a good idea to take at least one hostage along, and what could be more sympathetic than an orphaned little girl?

  Marco, Chad, and Carson anxiously strode toward the dropship.

  Tobias tapped his earbud. “Surge, do you copy, over?"

  There was no response.

  Tobias tried again, to no avail. He shrugged his shoulders. "You snooze you lose."

  "What about the others?" Marco asked.

  Tobias looked at him flatly.

  “Blitz, Liam, Gage, and Tug are still in th
e cargo hold with the prisoners, keeping them secure."

  Tobias looked at him flatly and shrugged. "It's a smaller split if we leave them behind. You have a problem with that?"

  Marco hesitated a moment, then shook his head.

  “Good." Tobias smiled. Then, without hesitation, he shot Chad and Carson. The fat suppressor on the end of the barrel did its job, making a barely audible zip, zip.

  The two IT guys flopped to the deck, oozing crimson blood from their bellies. They looked up at the tyrant in disbelief.

  Marco's face tensed. It was clear to see he didn't approve of the way things were shaking out. Is this how Tobias repaid loyalty? He wondered.

  "Power up the craft," Tobias said to Marco. "I think it's time for our departure."

  "Not so fast, scumbag!" Max shouted from across the flight deck. She had her pistol drawn on Tobias, his skull lined up in her sights. She looked like a rabid dog ready to tear him apart.

  Tobias smiled.

  Yuri put the barrel of his pistol against Hannah’s head.

  "Once again you find yourself in a situation you cannot win,” Tobias said. “You are outnumbered, and this adorable little girl will hit the deck before you even get a shot off.”

  “Oh, I’ll get a shot off, alright. The first one’s going through your skull. Seems like it’s a no-win situation for you.”