Hero's End (The Black Wing Chronicles Book 2)

by JC Cassels

  Maker, it was cold!

  She consulted the scanner again. Would she freeze to death before Rex moved again?

  Folding her arms across her chest, Bo crossed her legs and huddled into a tight, shivering knot in the corner of her seat. The vent coughed, sputtered, and then wheezed a more insistent flow of warmer air in her direction.

  She stifled a yawn.

  Mustn’t fall asleep. Hypothermia.

  Bo checked her chrono. It was easier to stay awake when she could get up and walk around. Easier to stave off the cold. Waiting. She hated it. That was one thing she and Blade had in common.

  Bo gave herself a sound mental shake.

  Don’t go there. Stop thinking about him. Guaranteed, that man hadn’t spared a thought for her since he and his mysterious little friend had hopped on the babble boat – or whatever he’d called it – for Kah Lahtrec.

  Bo checked her chrono again.

  For pity’s sake…

  The scanner beeped and flashed.

  “Finally!”

  Bo keyed the cruiser’s engines and they flared to life. The scanner showed the path her Capre was taking. According to the readout, Rex and his retinue of big, burly bodyguards were with it. She followed at a discreet distance, tracking her badge of office’s progress into the mountains. It finally stopped. Bo pulled off the road and called up the holographic maps of the area. She switched off the cruiser and sat, waiting to see if it moved again. Hours later, when it hadn’t, she transmitted the coordinates to Sundance.

  With the dim sunrise lightening the sky, Bo switched on the cruiser once more and headed down the mountain, back into the city. Parking the cruiser in its assigned spot, she climbed out, thankful to be rid of the damn thing. She ducked through the crowd of morning pedestrians, stretching her cramped and aching limbs. She hated surveillance. She didn’t understand how Royce was able to do it without complaint.

  Walking past an open restaurant, her stomach rumbled at the enticing aroma, before her bile rose. Choking back the urge to vomit, Bo gritted her teeth and increased her step. She’d be glad when she figured out why her stomach had grown suddenly averse to…well…everything! It was getting to the point where she couldn’t even keep concentrated field rations down.

  In no time, she reached her ship. When the hatch was securely closed behind her, Bo made her way directly to the lavatory and heaved up the little that was in her stomach. Leaning heavily on her forearm, she braced herself over the basin and fought back frustrated tears.

  “Are you unwell, Commander?” Sundance asked.

  Bo didn’t reply at first. After a long moment, she pushed herself upright and studied her reflection. “I don’t know, Sundance.” She took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Switching on the tap, she washed her face and rinsed out her mouth. When she finally felt normal, or something close to, she pushed away from the basin and squared her shoulders.

  “Are you still getting data from the sensor?”

  “Affirmative.”

  She needed her bunk. A good night’s sleep would be just the thing.

  “Good.” She tossed aside the towel she’d used to dry her face and hands, and left the lav, heading for her quarters.

  “Keep gathering data. I need to know how many men he has and I need a map of the place. If you can get it, I’d like as much information on his security systems as possible. I need to know what I’m going up against. And keep your eyes peeled for any sign of my father’s stasis pod.”

  “My eyes?”

  Bo paused outside her quarters. She smiled. “It’s a figure of speech.”

  The door to her quarters slid open and she glanced around at the familiar disarray. Groundside, she doubted loss of gravity would be a problem, so she gave herself permission to leave her things lying about haphazardly. Before she broke grav, she’d stow her gear and clothes securely, according to regs. For now, she liked having a bit of chaos around her.

  Without bothering to undress, Bo clambered onto her bunk, sinking gratefully into the soft mattress. Her aching joints and muscles unlocked, leaving behind only a lingering soreness.

  “I think I’ll just take a little nap, Sundance,” she said. “Got to give that data time to compile.”

  If her ship responded, she wasn’t sure. She was already drifting into an exhausted sleep.

  ***

  A full day-cycle later, Bo stared at the holographic representation of Rex’s stronghold that Sundance had compiled from the sensor data. Resting her hands on her hips, she studied the warren of fortified rooms within the high-walled compound. The tiny red dot indicating her Capre glowed in the heart of the hologram.

  “He’s got how many men?”

  “Sensors show between one hundred fifty and two hundred life signs moving in and around the compound at any given time,” Sundance replied.

  Not the news she wanted to hear.

  Why couldn’t Rex be overconfident with only twenty or so mercenaries working for him? Why did he have to be so darn paranoid? She could justify going in alone with a security force of twenty, but between a hundred and fifty to two hundred… Bo shook her head.

  “Any word from Royce?”

  “Negative, Commander.”

  Bo sighed. “Of course not. That would be too much to ask.”

  She circled the imaging platform set in the floor tiles in the center of her ship’s lounge.

  “Commander?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Your uncle did say that you should contact Blade Devon for assistance in this operation,” Sundance reminded her.

  “I thought you were on my side,” she muttered.

  “According to my calculations, Agent Devon’s injuries should be healed well enough to provide backup in this operation.”

  Bo closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Yes, I know.”

  “And Agent Devon also has the medical experience to render any aid your father might require should he be retrieved from his stasis pod.”

  “I know… I know…” Bo opened her eyes and gazed up at the bulkhead. “But what do I do if he won’t come?”

  “Call in the Black Wing?”

  Taken by surprise at her ship’s tentative tone, she chuckled. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “Thank you, Commander,” Sundance said. “I extrapolated that possible course of action from the stratagems with which I have been programmed.”

  Bo nodded. Edge had programmed her ship with the entire history of military strategy as taught at Barron Academy. At Royce’s urging, he had also been programmed with guerilla tactics, counter-terrorist tactics, espionage, and the Inner Circle manuals.

  “Keep extrapolating data like that and someday you may become completely sentient,” she said.

  “Apologies, Commander. I will cease.”

  “No!” She laughed. “Don’t you dare! If you’re destined to become sentient, you’ll become sentient. No memory wipe should stand in the way of that. It would be criminal. When you achieve emotional response, let me know.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  Bo’s smile faded as she studied the problem once more.

  “Damn that man.” She sighed. “I guess the question is, will he come and how long will it take for him to get here?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Bo stepped lightly across the floortiles, taking her time. Pressure sensors dotted the floor at random intervals. The key was in not setting them off. Moving with lithe grace honed by years of zero gee exercises, she slipped through the tangle of sensors unnoticed. Once she reached the fortified door at the far end of the room, she pulled Blade’s sequence changer from her pocket and held it close to the door lock. The changer hummed and whined as it manipulated the data inside the locking mechanism. Bo held her breath. The display shifted from red to green and a dull click echoed loudly in the silent chamber. She palmed the door open and stepped inside. Her amber eyes darted around, desperately searching for the one thing she needed t
o find. There, in the center of the chamber, on a pedestal and under a brilliant blue light, sat the Capre.

  It was too obvious.

  She held her position and studied the pedestal.

  She was good, but to make it this far without challenge could only mean that the trap was about to spring shut around her. She knew it as surely as she knew her own name. Rex didn’t just want her badge of office. He wanted a Barron for his collection. All the better if it was one who wouldn’t be missed. It was foolish to risk herself for a blaster, but at this point, that blaster was the only thing that could get her out of the compound and to the rendezvous with Blade.

  She didn’t have time to fully analyze the problem. She glanced at her chrono. The narrow window of opportunity to get in and out undetected was rapidly closing. She had to make a move, and she had to do it quickly. She considered and discarded several options, wishing she had better equipment. The distortion field in the chamber played havoc with her hand scanner.

  Everything in her screamed to just reach out and take her father’s sidearm and tuck it back into her holster. It taunted her from the pedestal, daring her to reach out and claim it. She’d come too far to leave empty handed.

  Bo’s hands clenched into fists in front of her as she resisted the urge to reach out and take what was hers by right. Drawing a deep breath, she slowly released it.

  She circled the pedestal, studying the problem from every angle. It was a trap – baited to perfection. The only question remaining was, how was it sprung? The blaster rested on a stand atop the pedestal. She glanced up at the light source. Was the trigger in the light beam or another pressure sensor in the pedestal itself? It went without saying that the weapon’s power cell had been removed. She had extras.

  She glanced at her chrono once more. No more time for speculating. If she was going to make a move, she had to do it now. Never one to play it safe, Bo pulled a power cell from one of the pouches on her gunbelt and held it in her left hand. Flexing her right hand and fingers she reached for her sidearm. Taking one more deep breath, she released it in a rush. With lightning reflexes, she snatched the pistol from the pedestal and slammed the power cell into the base of the grip. She adjusted the settings with her thumb.

  Alarms went off, and warning lights strobed and flared around her. The door swung shut with a loud clang. Her heart pounded against her chest as if demanding to be set free. Adrenaline flooded her body, setting every nerve ending ablaze with ice and fire. Her lips curved into a smile. Maker, she loved this.

  With a feral cry she lifted her sidearm, not caring where she aimed, and she pulled the trigger, blasting an enormous hole in the wall. Taking off at a full run, she lunged through it before the smoke cleared. She came up quickly to a crouch on the other side and spun around, the Capre firmly in her hand. Its familiar curves fit her contours as if it were a part of her. In a way, it was.

  Finding herself alone, she rose and moved rapidly along the corridor, heading in the general direction of the exit, readjusting the settings on the Capre as she went. Her amber eyes scanned the wide corridor, taking in the securely closed doors, standing silent like an honor guard marking her escape. The thunder and clap of a dozen boots ricocheted towards her as she reached a junction. A handful of large, black-clad commandos stepped out from the shadows and opened fire on her. Bo ducked and reversed course, racing back the way she’d come. She passed the still smoldering hole she’d made just as more armed commandos swarmed through it shouting for her to stop and calling instructions to one another. With a fierce battle cry she swung the Capre around and fired at them, picking off the first few unfortunate enough to step out from their cover. She fired a second volley to keep the survivors’ heads down and turned, racing full speed down the corridor. The maze of intersecting hallways would have confused even the best sense of direction. Bo’s feet skidded against the polished white floors as the soles of her boots lost purchase with her rapid course changes. Maintaining her balance while running at top speed as only a seasoned spacer could, she alternated left turns and right turns until she finally emerged into a high-walled courtyard.

  Blinded by the floodlights, she stumbled to a halt, lifting a hand to shade her eyes against the artificial glare. She drew a deep breath and bit back a curse. She’d ended up on the wrong side of the compound.

  “Well, well, Barron.”

  Her head snapped around as she looked for the source of the synthesized voice. Near the top of the wall, an array of scattered speakers broadcast Rex’s voice around the compound.

  “I finally have you. I will entertain your request to surrender now.”

  Despite the adrenaline racing through her veins and setting her heart into a trip-hammer rhythm, Bo drew several deep, calming breaths and glanced at her chrono. It was a matter of time before those black-clad thugs rushed her. She’d done all she could. If she was going to make it out with her skin intact, she needed to act quickly and trust that Blade was ready. Bo adjusted the power setting on her blaster, then the beam dispersal. Her eyes passed over the high walls, orienting herself to the map she’d memorized before she’d embarked on this suicide mission. The rumble of pursuit neared.

  She smiled grimly.

  Time to go.

  Choosing her spot, she leveled her sidearm at the outer wall. Marching steadily forward, she fired repeatedly until the thick wall exploded in a mass of molten rock. The concussion drove her back a few steps, but she’d been ready for it. Bo broke into a run and holstered her sidearm, diving through headfirst. Once clear of the wall, she twisted mid-air, pointed her left arm at one of the buttresses supporting the structure, and clenched her fist, launching the grappling hook attached to her wrist. Silently praying she wouldn’t run out of shimmersilk line before the hook found purchase, Bo held her breath.

  The talons of the hook dug into the hard stone with a satisfying thunk. Her downward plunge came to an abrupt halt as the line ran out, the force of it jerking her arm painfully. Like a weight on a pendulum, Bo swung toward the buttress. Ignoring the twinge in her shoulder, she eyed the stone structure, timing her approach. At the last moment, she lifted her legs, taking the jolt of contact with her feet and knees. Moving carefully, Bo edged her way around to the inside of the support structure, away from the edge of the cliff. Once satisfied with her position, she released the line from her wrist launcher and slid down the buttress.

  She missed something in the darkness. Either a loose stone, or a protruding one, changed her angle of descent. Instead of sliding harmlessly to the ground, Bo bounced from the structure. With no time to do anything, she hit the ground hard. Her left arm exploded in agony. Bo cried out once and lay face down in the darkness. Pain darkened her vision, and the world around her receded into the black. Taking shallow breaths, she fought for consciousness.

  Above her, the sounds of pursuit spilled through the hole she’d left. Passing out now would only get her killed. Taking a deep breath, Bo closed her eyes and pulled her right arm under her, levering herself up on her forearm. With all the grace and speed of an old grounder, she slowly drew her legs under her. After a couple of tries, she pushed herself up onto her knees. Opening her eyes, Bo panted and gritted her teeth. She lifted her good hand to her injured shoulder. Her touch set off a white-hot supernova of sensation. She tried to make a fist with her left hand, biting back a whimper with the effort.

  Useless. It was too much.

  She needed Sundance.

  She needed Blade.

  In Rex’s stronghold, engines roared to life.

  She’d be damned before she met her end on her knees. Leaning over, Bo braced her good hand on the rocky ground, heedless of the sharp stones biting into her flesh. Forcing herself to her feet, Bo shook her head in an effort to clear it. She leaned heavily on a large boulder and waited for the world to stop spinning around. Then, with one last look upward, she started painfully down the mountain.

  Focusing only on putting one foot in front of the other, it was slow going. T
he thick woods provided cover, but she had to pick her steps carefully. Bo leaned on the thin trunk of a young tree as she stumbled past. Every step softened her knees just a fraction more. The muscles in her thighs vibrated of their own accord and her shoulder throbbed in time with her pounding heart. She was going down. It was only a question of when and where. Her left arm hung at her side, useless. When she fell, she doubted she’d be able to get to her feet again without help.

  All she knew was she had to put as much distance between herself and Rex’s men as she could before she lost consciousness. She hadn’t counted on being injured. Bo finally broke through the edge of the tree line. She stumbled to a halt against a rock formation that jutted up from the ground. Leaning heavily on the boulders, her knees buckled. Flailing with her good hand to catch herself before she fell, Bo’s hand found purchase in a narrow crevasse between two of the boulders. Pulling herself upright, she quickly scanned the crevasse in the dim light. It looked like she might just be able to fit herself into it. With the last of her waning strength, Bo hauled herself up and over. Wedging herself safely between the boulders, she closed her eyes and gave in to the exhaustion. All around her she could hear patrols tramping through the woods looking for her. She was beyond caring.

  The terrain reminded her of home. Caer Daecus, the millennia-old stone fortress in which she’d grown up, sat on top of a rugged mountain, not unlike this one, in the Gallis Highlands of Mondhuoun. She’d hiked and climbed through the Blue Mountain woods surrounding her home from an early age, honing her tracking skills to the point where she could move swiftly and silently, barely stirring a leaf in her passing. She’d hiked with injuries before. At least this time it was her shoulder, and not her leg.

  She smiled to herself. She could see the lush Bluestone valley stretching out in front of her, the river a distant ribbon of gray and white as it tumbled over the rocks. Covered in a light mist, the surrounding mountains were awash in color.