“You don’t have to keep me safe. I told you, I can take care of myself.”
“How? With what? I’ve got enough on my mind without worrying about getting you out alive too. This isn’t a game.”
“I know that,” she snapped as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. “But I’m not leaving you here to fight this battle alone.”
“Yes, you are, it’s not your fight. You’ve done your part. You got me to Lansing. Now let me get on with the rest.”
“Not without me.”
Jesus Christ! Brick walls were less stubborn!
“I know you’re trying to keep me safe,” she said, “but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving this planet without you.”
Shit.
◆◆◆
The drive back to Meyer’s Landing was quiet and tense. I didn’t know what I’d find when I got to the farm, but I hoped to get my dad out before the GSF agents arrived. I didn’t think they’d place him under arrest, they couldn’t charge him with harboring a fugitive unless they could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’d been there, and I was pretty sure they couldn’t do that without a stack of warrants and a forensics team. This first visit would be strictly intelligence gathering; they’d be back later with the rest. Unless they decided to take him to the Western Rockies GSF Garrison for questioning; in which case it would take a small army to get him out. As creative as Kenny was, I didn’t think even he could manage that one.
It was almost dawn when we reached Meyer’s landing, and we approached the farm from the east. The lane was clear as I drove past, the only vehicle I saw belonging to my dad. I hoped it was because the recovery team hadn’t arrived yet. I turned around and pulled into the drive, circling behind the barn. Not the most original hiding place in the world, but at least my rental couldn’t be seen from the road and I didn’t plan on staying long enough for it to matter.
We entered the kitchen without knocking and my dad looked up from his coffee and toast in surprise. “What are you doing back here? I thought you were in a big panic to get off the planet.”
“I came back to get you, you’re not safe here, Dad. You’re coming with me.”
“What the hell’s wrong with you, boy? I got crops to tend, I can’t just up and leave.”
“Yes, you can, the crops can wait. Grab whatever you need in the way of clothes, and let’s go. Hurry it up, before that recovery team gets here.”
“What’s going on, Gage?” my dad demanded.
“There’s no time now. I’ll explain on the way.”
“On the way to where?”
“Atlantia. Joanna, go with him. Help him get his shit together.”
“I said I’m not going,” my dad insisted.
“And I said, yes, you are.”
Vehicles pulled into the drive, and I looked out the kitchen window. The recovery team had arrived, along with my dad’s Security Patrol friend, Roy Campbell.
You know, once, just once, it would be nice if something in my life went the way it was supposed to.
“Take my dad upstairs,” I said to Joanna. “Lock yourselves in the bathroom and don’t come out until I come get you.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“Don’t worry about me, just go.”
She grabbed my dad’s arm and pulled him towards the stairs. He shrugged out of her grasp. “What the hell are you plannin’, boy?”
My final, frayed and fragile thread of patience snapped. “For fuck’s sake, Dad, just do as I say!”
Unless, of course, you want to watch me kill them.
Whatever he saw in my eyes shut him up and Joanna pulled him up the stairs. Once they were safely out of the way I looked back into the driveway.
Roy had gotten out of his car and was leaning in the other vehicle window talking to a uniformed man in the front seat. Another uniform drove, two more sat in the back. Four of them altogether.
Four to one. Not bad odds.
The guy in the front passenger seat wore the black DU’s of a senior officer. He nodded as they looked to the house then said something to the peons in the back. All four of them got out of the car, two approached the front door, the other two walked around the house towards the kitchen. The front doorbell rang.
“Mr. Brassan?” a voice called. “This is Major John Mitchell of the Galactic Security Force. Could we speak to you for a moment please, sir?”
I wasn’t about to answer and I supposed it was too much to hope they’d give up and go away.
I ducked into the pantry, drawing the blaster as a knock sounded at the kitchen door. “Mr. Brassan? Is everything all right sir?”
A com-link crackled. “Anything?” a voice asked.
“No, sir. There doesn’t appear to be anyone home.”
“His vehicle’s in the drive, he has to be here.”
“Still asleep, maybe?”
“Maybe.” A pause. “I don’t like it. He could be in trouble. Is the side door unlocked?”
The door opened. “Yes, sir.”
“Check upstairs, we’ll check the outbuildings.”
I watched them move further into the kitchen. They wore the uniform of regular Battle Corps grunts, much like the one Joanna had liberated for me, except theirs were a dark infantry green rather than air corps blue. The taller one had Corporal stripes on his sleeve, both carried standard issue blasters that were, at least for the moment, holstered.
I couldn’t let them go upstairs with my dad and Joanna up there.
I drew a deep breath to center myself. They couldn’t get past me, and I had to get them both the first time.
They’d wandered into the living room. One checked the coat closet next to the front door, the other was looking at the photos on the mantle. I waited until they both turned and moved toward the stairs, then stepped from my hiding place and fired. I caught the Corporal in the chest. He fell backwards, over the coffee table, collapsing it into a pile of kindling. My second shot caught the other guy in the throat. He crumpled to the floor where he let out a single gurgling cough then lay still.
Two down. Two left.
Plus Roy, makes three.
I looked out the living room window. I couldn’t see them. They must still be checking the barn.
They’d probably found my rental stashed behind it.
I wasn’t about to go out to them, I had to think of a way to bring them to me.
I knelt next to the corporal I’d chest shot. He looked at me, his eyes wide and panicked. Small, choked sounds bubbled up from his throat and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. I put him out of his misery and shoved his blaster into my belt before going through his pockets, checking his ID.
Corporal Jack Dennis.
Sorry, Corporal, but they should have given you a safer assignment.
I dropped the ID into my pocket: David Archer, Neil Owen, and Donald Martino had all outlived their usefulness; maybe I’d have better luck as Jack Dennis.
The com-link lay where the dead corporal had dropped it. I picked it up and flipped it open. “Hey, this is Dennis,” I said, keeping my voice muffled. “I have a situation in here.”
A moment of static and then another voice. “What kind of situation?”
“We found Martin Brassan, but he’s dead.”
“Say again?”
“He’s dead, him and some woman. They’re in an upstairs bedroom. Jesus, there’s blood everywhere.”
A muffled curse. “Don’t touch anything. We’ll be right there.”
“Roger that.”
I snapped the com-link closed. A moment later Roy and the two remaining members of the recovery team left the barn and hurried towards the house. I fired on them as soon as they opened the front door. My first blast knocked the GSF officer onto the porch and partially down the front steps. The second spun the other guy over the railing into the flower bed. My gun swung to Roy. He had his hand on the grip of his sidearm. He hadn’t drawn it yet, he just stood there, very still, watching me with wary
eyes.
His fingers tightened, briefly, and I shook my head. “I wouldn’t.”
“Gage?”
“Good guess.”
“The others?”
“Dead.”
He nodded slowly. “And your dad?”
I smiled faintly. “Not until you tell me which side of the fence you’re on.”
“And if I choose wrong?” I didn’t reply, and he chuckled. “Right. Stupid question.”
“Pick a side, Roy. I don’t have all day.”
“You got me stuck between a rock and a hard place, boy. Your dad and me have been friends for close to forty years and, much as I might like you, you’re still a wanted man. I just watched you blow away four government officials. Not sure I can overlook something like that.”
I heard footsteps on the stairs. My dad and Joanna.
“I thought I told you stay put until I came to get you,” I snapped.
“Excuse me,” Joanna snapped back, “but he’s twice my size and three times more determined, there wasn’t much I could do to keep him up there.”
Roy looked from Joanna to me. “Girlfriend?”
I met his gaze steadily. “Hostage.”
He didn’t call me a liar to my face, but it was obvious he didn’t believe me.
My dad’s gaze wandered from the carnage in the living room then back to me. “So, four more dead by your hand.”
“What did you want me to do, Dad? Ask them politely if they’d mind me taking you with me? I don’t know what kind of story they fed you, but whatever it was, it’s bullshit.”
“How am I supposed to know that when theirs is the only story I’ve heard? I’ve been waiting years to hear your side, and you won’t tell me a damn thing.”
“I told you, I’ll explain it all later. Get your stuff and let’s go.”
I kept my eyes on Roy. He was the wild card. The big question mark.
“I’m willing to concede there’s been more than enough bloodshed for one day,” I said, “but I am leaving, and I am taking my father with me. Try to stop me, and friends or not, I will kill you.”
Roy’s eyes narrowed as he kept his gaze locked on mine. “Don’t test me,” I said softly.
A long, tense minute passed, then Roy nodded as self-preservation won out over duty.
“Truce?” I asked.
“I guess.”
My dad sat on the stairs and shook his head. “It’s great that you two have worked out your differences, but I still don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on. You want me leave my home, your mama’s home, on your word, but you won’t tell me why? If I go, and I’m not sayin’ I will, but if I do...when can I come back? Next month? Next year? You haven’t given me a reason I can believe, boy, and I’m not leavin’ till I get one.”
“Gage is right, Martin,” said Roy. “Much as it pains me to admit it, there’ll be time to hear that tale another day. Now, are you going? Or did he come back here and kill these guys for nothing?”
“Who’s gonna take care of the house and farm?” my dad demanded. “I got fields to tend, they’re not likely to take care of themselves.” He scowled at me. “You might have a vault full of blood money, but some of us gotta work for a living.”
“I’ll take care of the house,” sighed Roy, shooting me a look, “and I’ll clean up your boy’s mess, too.”
“You’re gonna lie for him? Isn’t that called bein’ an accessory after the fact?”
“Only if I get caught, and I don’t plan for that to happen.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked warily.
“Because, like I said, your dad and me have been friends a long time. I may not like having to compromise my ethics and my job, but considering the circumstances, I appreciate the necessity.” He looked at my dad. “Go on, Martin. The house and farm will be fine.”
My dad surged to his feet with a growl and took his bag from Joanna, none too gently. Me, he could happily argue with all day, but having Roy take my side was an unexpected blessing, and I was really glad at that moment that I hadn’t killed him.
“Fine, I’ll come since it looks like I don’t have a choice, but only if you promise me that once we’ve got to wherever it is we’re going, you’ll tell me everything. The whole truth, boy. Nothin’ held back. Deal?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Deal. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Where am I goin’?” he asked as the four of us left the house.
“Atlantia.” I said as we headed for the barn and my hidden rental. It was a tight squeeze, but I managed to get the back door open and toss his bag in. He climbed in behind it, and Joanna slid in next to him.
“How do you plan on getting there?” asked Roy. “They’ve already flooded the vid-link channels with your name and picture,” he shot a look Joanna’s way. “Your hostage’s too. There’ll be notices plastered all over every spaceport in the country.” He offered a rueful smile. “Not all lawmen are as understanding as me.”
“I’ll think of something.”
He paused for a moment. “I might know a way that avoids the spaceport at Collinsville all together.”
This should be interesting. “I’m listening.”
“Walter Nichols has this old shuttle he’s been playing around with for years. He keeps bragging about how’s he’s fixed it up so it’s like new, how he’s rebuilt the engine and hyper-drive. Maybe he’ll sell it to you.”
If he did, I could leave a message for Kenny and take Joanna and my dad directly to Jaraslad. The GSF wouldn’t think to look for either of them there, and they’d have to think me pretty fucking stupid to go back there myself. It would buy me a little time as I figured out my next move.
“Seats how many?”
“I’m not sure,” said Roy. “His place is just up the way. Why don’t we ask him?”
Chapter 12
Walter Nichols watched as I made a complete circuit of his pride and joy. A Series 2 Galaxy Class, she was old, all right, probably older than me, but she looked to be in pretty good shape. He’d painted her white; the name Lady Kathy was emblazoned across her hull in gold letters. He unsealed the doors and the gangway slid down automatically. The main cabin was spotless, the seats upholstered in black leather. Tinted view ports were fitted with solar blinds. I slid the cockpit door open and sat in the pilot’s seat. The instrumentation looked new.
“How fast is she?” I asked.
“I took her on a run to Lunar City after I rebuilt the drive,” said Walter. “Fourteen hours, forty-three minutes, one way.”
Impressive. “And the fuel cells last how long?”
Walter smiled. “There’s twelve of them set on a twenty four hour recharge rotation. Six run, six charge, switch and repeat.”
The recharge option would get me to the Dorani Sector without having to stop along the way to refuel.
Bonus.
“How much do you want for her?”
He chewed his bottom lip as he stared at me; I could almost hear the debate going on in his head as he wondered how high a price he could get away with.
“I’m kind of in a hurry, Mr. Nichols. I’ll pay you whatever you think is fair.”
“I’ve put a lot of work into her,” he mused. “I hadn’t really planned on selling her.”
Oh for fuck’s sake, let’s just cut to the chase. “I’ll give you half a million credits for her. Cash.”
His eyebrows nearly shot right off the top of his head. “Cash?”
“If you’ve got a data console, I can wire the money into your account in five minutes.”
He grinned. “There’s one in the house.”
“I need to make a call,” I said. “Can I use your com-link?”
◆◆◆
The bartender in Atlantia was an ignorant little shit, but he promised he’d give Kenny my message. I reinforced his promise with one of my own, one I was pretty sure he wouldn’t want me to make good on.
It was midafternoon by the time Walter and I g
ot all of our business squared away. The money for his shuttle would be deposited in ten installments of fifty K each; if anyone asked he could explain them away as equipment sales, crop sales, whatever. He wanted to draw up a bill of sale, but I declined. I didn’t need any kind of paper trail leading back to me. If anyone asked what happened to his pride and joy, he could make up any story he wanted so long as he kept my name, and my dad’s name, out of it. I didn’t think that would be a problem. I’d just dropped a small fortune into the family bank account, and I knew where he lived. He wouldn’t want to piss me off.
I didn’t want to leave the planet until dark—the global defensive net paid more attention to interstellar traffic approaching the planet than it did leaving it, but Meyer’s Landing was a small place and the neighbors noticed everything. A ship lifting off from the middle of a corn field at two in the afternoon would have them talking for months.
Joanna spent the afternoon in the house with Kathy, Walter’s wife. They packed up three big wicker baskets full of food—sandwiches, fried chicken, potato salad, fruit, and bottled water. It would be enough to see us to the Norbrand Station in the Ilion Sector, after that we’d have to resupply before continuing on to Jaraslad.
My dad, Walter, and Roy spent the afternoon on the front porch, drinking lemonade and gossiping. Their conversation centered around farm, crops, and local issues I had no interest or experience in. I sat with them, but didn’t say much. It was odd, but I felt like an outsider, with nothing to contribute. I’d outgrown Meyer’s Landing. Listening to those three men babble on hammered that home to me like nothing else ever could.
I didn’t belong here anymore. I’d seen too much. Done too much. Killed too many.
An hour or two after sunset I figured it was probably safe enough for us to be on our way. My dad and Joanna followed me into the barn.
“Sure you can fly this thing?” my dad asked as he and Joanna followed me up the gangway.
I stowed our bags in one of the overhead compartments then helped him fasten his safety restraints. “Trust me, Dad. I’ve flown bigger ships than this.”
Okay, so that was a lie. But he didn’t need to know that.
Hunter Page 15
