Instead of Fireshot unconscious on the floor, she found the Dark Mark. She had spittle in the corner of her mouth and wore her telltale mask. It was sleek with feathers and various sexual acts carved on either side. The mask itself covered her forehead, the bridge of her nose, and around her eyes—just enough to conceal her true identity. The bottom half of her face was still exposed. It was also sealed with a lock around the back of her head that only she could open. Part of the Dark Mark’s power was that she could keep her identity hidden even if she were defeated.
Fireshot sat in the corner, completely nude, the mug that presumably held the drugged water on the ground next to him. Well, fuckity-fuck. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
As soon as she entered, Fireshot rose, shotgun aimed at her. Two figures leaning against the wall stepped forward too, one with a sword, the other with two blaster pistols. The morning light had now risen enough to shine in the window and backlight Fireshot, casting him in an intimidating silhouette. A tattoo of flames started at his waist and wrapped around his side, coming back around to his chest.
“At long last, the legendary Letha.” He simply grinned and kicked the mug so that it shattered on the ground at the same time he pulled the trigger. Luckily, the other guys had been close by, so she had lunged sideways as soon as she saw his arm twitch, grabbed one of them and pulled so that he took the brunt of the attack. Rock salt tore into her left leg, burning and stinging. She shouted out, realizing she couldn’t pull and shoot fast enough lying on her side, so she thrust forward with her shocker. The electricity sparked and the man in front of her flew away from her as she went backward, and her momentum took out Fireshot’s legs just before she slammed into another guy. Damn, that hurt.
This wasn’t going well, but at least she wasn’t dead. Even as she lurched up in what felt like slow motion, she heard screams from outside and then the explosions of gunshots and yelps of sudden death.
Fireshot was still struggling to get back up, as the impact with his guard had knocked him back. He had a blade out, but Letha was faster. She ducked under a swing from the sword behind her, then leveraged it out of the man’s grip, screaming in pain as she used her damaged leg to leap-spin, then sliced through his throat with his own weapon. She came up and around with a slash across Fireshot’s right oblique.
The first man had recovered, making it two against one. But now she had her blaster out. Since the big man was the first to lunge, he took the first shot right to his head. The second was aimed for Fireshot, but he dove behind the table beside where the Dark Mark lay, still unconscious. When that bitch woke, Letha meant to give her a piece of her mind and demand her credits back. This was horseshit.
Letha jumped over her, landing and almost collapsing as pain shot up her leg, then let three shots go through the table. When she flung it over, the son of a bitch wasn’t there! She saw an escape tunnel off to the side. “Dammit!” She wouldn’t be able to crawl after him with her leg like this, so she spun to the entrance.
The room smelled of blood and burned flesh and wood, and she was eager to get out. However, some nameless woman stood there, a knife in one hand, a crossbow in the other. She smiled to reveal crooked teeth, but then froze as something hit her from behind. She fell inward, and Letha saw a bloody arrow armed with a small explosive sticking up from the back of her head.
“Shit!” she dove down next to the Dark Mark and grabbed the heavy dead man, rolling so that he was basically between them and the explosion.
KA-BOOM!
The woman’s head exploded in all directions. The explosive had been strong, but nothing crazy enough to cause them damage.
“Dammit, watch the hell out, Trunk!” she shouted, shoving the heavy man away and limping to the doorway. Outside, it was a complete shit show. Here she was, this supposed grand tactician, and she’d led her team right into an ambush. Judging by the numbers on the enemy side, this wasn’t just Fireshot either. He had to have partnered up with at least two other warlords to make this happen.
She’d been had. Duped. But how? Pulling her rifle from her back, she started mowing down enemy fighters as she limped her way back to the ledge. The intel had clearly shown weapons at his base, and that was the problem, she realized. Mantis had always taught her that anything obvious was a trap. Well, Fireshot had made them just obvious enough to trick her, but she was still alive. So there was a chance she could get out of this intact.
“Fall back!” she yelled, the words echoing from her right and left.
“But the fun’s just started,” Trunk chuckled, streaking by with his dong bouncing around. He jumped and pulled back on an arrow, releasing it at a machine gun team on the other side who were applying heavy fire in the direction Ghost had just run.
The arrow hit and they were lost in a ball of fire and smoke, and Trunk landed, feet spread so that the world could take him in with awe. He started to grow hard smiling at her like that. Others ran past in their retreat, and Kale was somewhere nearby, providing cover fire.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Letha commanded again. “We can’t take them all!”
Trunk frowned, instantly losing his excitement, and jogged past her, grumbling. Then she saw Ghost, crawling toward the wall, multiple streams of blood pouring out of his pale body. She hobbled over to him, Brink joining her halfway and offering support.
“Help him instead!” she screamed, pointing at Ghost.
But he lay there, panting, and said, “Don’t. You and I both know… I won’t make it.”
Letha limped over and then collapsed next to him, grabbing him by the body armor he wore, keenly aware of the cracks and holes in it. “I didn’t give you permission to die, damn you!”
The stupid drone cameras were circling them, catching the drama, and she wanted to stand and shoot them down. She cursed her level-headedness, wishing she could let herself go in times like this, but instead took her blaster and gave it to him, along with three grenades. They were near the same place she’d entered the fortress. Kale was still holding off the enemy with a couple of her other fighters, while the majority made for the trees. But staying here like this wasn’t an option.
“Even if I could survive it,” Ghost said, pushing himself up to the edge of one of the walls. “I’d never make the return trip, not with them on our tails.”
“Hell, I’m not sure I will.” She glanced down at her leg. It still hurt like hell, and blood was soaking her shorts.
“You will, because I’m going to take out every single one of those motherfuckers while you run.”
A screen flashed over him with a bid that said, “Kill your teammate,” but Letha waved her hand and it vanished.
“We gotta move!” Kale yelled over his shoulder, lobbing a flashbang. “Now!”
Again, the screen appeared, but Letha didn’t even bother looking at what stupid suggestions the viewers had this time. She wasn’t doing it, and Kale was right. It was time. She began to stand up, but her leg went out from under her. Fuck.
He ran back, grabbed her around the waist. Together they went over the wall, sliding down the side of the rocks, and rolling at the bottom. Trunk was there, and in spite of looking up right at his balls and dangling masterpiece, she was relieved to see him. He helped lift her, and half-carried her, Brink following after a burst from his rifle, and then all three were making for the trees as what remained of the squad returned fire.
When nobody else could be seen in the fortress, they ran. Gunfire continued, and Letha knew Ghost was putting up a hell of a fight. His grenades sounded in three quick bursts, some more shooting, and then… silence. They continued the retreat, pausing only briefly as one last shot rang out through the morning.
With a heavy heart, she knew that Ghost’s visage would appear over the lake that evening with the fireworks.
6
The Source
Earth: Three Days Until Reckoning
Most of Pierce’s colleagues had little respect for his undertakings. They were all f
ull citizens and had no need to increase their net worth for a better life. Their needs were provided for by the state, and in return, defections and failures were rare. Why rock the boat when you’ve got it made? Pretty much everyone toed the company line.
What set Pierce apart was his personal loss. It drove him to not only resolve his own internal demons but also to care about others who’d experienced similar hardship.
What they didn’t know, however, was that Pierce had only revealed a part of his mission to them and not the whole truth to prevent a leak. Despite him knowing far more than any of them, they still couldn’t help but give him shit. Pierce welcomed it, though, since it kept them from prying too much into his mission.
“I would have sent a care package to take on your mission, had you actually given that beast of a robot the fucking it so clearly wanted from you, Pierce,” a fellow Agent said as he entered their secure vault. “Maybe some nice chocolate chip cookies.”
“Ditto,” another Agent said. “Would have had all my friends and family tune in, too. Increased ratings are good for you, right? Just keep your scrotum off the screen, please.”
“You’re all fucking mongrels,” Pierce muttered, with resentment in his voice.
“No,” the first Agent said. “But you will be. Lots of ‘em!”
The other Agents laughed in unison. The lowbrow humor was about exciting as their day was going to get as long as they kept their asses glued to their chairs.
Yet, Pierce restrained himself. He knew better than to ruffle feathers when he was finally on the cusp of finding out the truth about his past. This was worth more than pride. This was worth risking his life. He could take a few trashy insults if that was the price.
“I hope I do,” Pierce said. He reached up and touched his left eyelid. Too small for the human eye to notice, Pierce was wearing a body cam inside his contact lens. He wanted to tear it out and shove it down the other Agents’ throats. Keeping them abreast of his progress was necessary. He hated it. It would be better if he could go about his business unabated and unfiltered by worrying about what they thought of his actions. Perhaps there would be a way to ditch the remote viewer once he got on planet. For now, he was going to have to endure their snide remarks. “I’ve always had a thing for mongrels.”
The other Agents laughed, enjoying that Pierce was willing to poke fun at himself.
The fun was interrupted, though, when the Unit Chief, Peyton Barnes, barged out of her corner office. “Don’t you idiots have anything better to do, or were you hoping to be suspended?”
The vault went dead quiet. No more jokes.
Barnes gestured for Pierce to follow her back into her office. He rushed to grab the door before it closed.
Inside, Barnes took a seat and sipped a protein shake. Pierce couldn’t help but picture her being successful on Planet Kill. Strong, yet pretty.
“Stop staring at me,” Barnes said. “I know that you’re in the middle of an operation, but there’s no reason for unprofessionalism.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” Pierce said. “Was just thinking you’d do well on this mission. Maybe better than me.”
“There’s no doubt I would do better than you. I have no inclination, however, and I’m not even sure whether it’s worth it to send you.” She looked up, met his eyes. “Your lead is sketchy at best. I’m risking my career if your theory proves true. I almost hope you’re wrong. But if you’re not, we have an obligation to do something about it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Stop with that shit. You’ve never done that before.”
“Sorry, Peyton,” Pierce said, using her first name now that she’d reestablished their dynamic.
“That’s better. You used to see me naked on a regular basis. Or was it that forgettable?”
“Not at all. It’s just that sometimes you don’t realize how special something is until it’s gone.” He wasn’t sure if he meant their affair or the wife he’d lost.
“Bullshit,” Peyton sniffed. “This is about rejection. You need to prove that she didn’t just up and leave of her own free will. This theory—and that’s all it is at this point—that she was abducted as part of some conspiracy involving corruption baffles me. It could threaten the benefits Planet Kill offers. It’s dangerous, Pierce. And you know it. How many people in your own life have benefited from Planet Kill’s arrangement?”
“Hard to say. A lot,” Pierce said.
“No, it isn’t,” Peyton replied. She plopped open a thick file on her desk. “There’s your mother, who received life-saving surgery because her father volunteered and sent his credits back to the family. He’s dead now, but your mother’s alive. Your brother is a second-born. If it weren’t for Planet Kill curtailing overpopulation, we’d still be restricted to one child per family. And he wouldn’t even exist. Shall I go on?”
“No. I get it. I’m not trying to stir the pot,” Pierce said. “Just trying to keep corruption out of what most perceive as a good thing.”
“Most?” Peyton chortled. “Try all. If it were put to a vote today, the entirety of Earth and every paradise planet would still vote ‘yes’ on authorizing our current arrangement. I doubt you’d get even one percent of the population to vote against Planet Kill.”
Pierce nodded. She was right. There was no denying the benefits. She hadn’t even gotten into the fact that countless people had been able to improve their standing and quality of life by being victorious. The last thing he needed was all of humanity planting crosshairs on his back. He had to keep his mission focused, and if there was anything that threatened the ongoing success of authorized death, he was going to have to turn a blind eye.
“At the same time,” she continued, “if your theory is true, and your source is legit, we need to root out the corruption. Whether it’s wrong or not. Whether it’s illegal or not, it’s bad for business. You are tracking?”
“Yes,” Pierce said. “I understand the full scope of the mission, and realize it needs to stay focused.”
“Do you even know how this whole thing started?”
Pierce shrugged. “Actually, no. Is it important?”
Peyton laughed. “Do you know what safari hunting is?”
“No.”
“Back in the early twenty-first century, countless animal species were at risk of extinction, including most of the larger undomesticated mammals. Some knucklehead came up with the idea that if it was legal to hunt them, somehow that would save them. It sounds ridiculous at first, but it worked. Rich people were more than happy to pay extra to hunt exotic animals. That money, in turn, went to save the remaining animals, as well as pay for walls around their parks and security. They also subsidized local farmers who protected wildlife from poachers. It worked so well, eventually the herds grew too large for their wildlife reserves.”
“It used to be illegal to hunt elephants? But there are so many,” Pierce said, surprised.
“Right. You’re too young to know anything about that. Anyway. You get my point. Establishing Planet Kill has created an outlet for human violence, reduced overpopulation, increased resources, and practically ended starvation on Earth. It created a means for people to climb up in society and improve their lives. Plus, it’s entertaining, for what that’s worth. Your actions will not risk what we’ve accomplished, or I’ll have you shot dead during your mission.”
“You wouldn’t,” Pierce said, thinking of all the people out there who really didn’t have a choice but to go there. If someone was born into poverty, the usual choices were to fight to the death or turn tricks. PK offered a way up. Pierce still wasn’t sure how he felt about the whole thing; his thoughts were too clouded by his search for his missing wife.
“I would. Your family isn’t the only one in this office to benefit. You’re making enemies fast. You need to be careful.”
“I need to find the truth.”
“Stay in your lane. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Having said that,”
Peyton continued, “a successful system can’t allow forced trafficking. Planet Kill has to be all volunteer, or the whole thing will fall apart. If the corruption is real, it’s imperative that we root it out.”
Pierce chuckled on the inside. Now he remembered why he’d called off the affair. Peyton was too uptight for his comfort level. So specific in her sexual needs that Pierce could predict her moans and groans. A sex robot had more life and spontaneity to it.
“Are you even listening?” Peyton asked.
Pierce pulled his mind out of its stupor. “Yeah, sure. One hundred percent present,” he lied. “Look, I don’t know how I feel about the whole thing. If I’m being honest, it’s impossible not to have conflicting emotions. I can’t help but consider what I lost. Either way, I’m not going to tear down the system. I’m going to find the truth; keeping in mind that the truth comes in many forms, and this whole ordeal’s still raising red flags for me.”
“In that case,” she said, “I’ll authorize one last debriefing with the source.”
Pierce’s eyes lit up. This was golden. “When, where is she?”
“She’s downstairs. I’m keeping her away from the rest of the unit. Especially the gung-ho ones who’d rather see you dead than know the truth about this mission. The entry code is the date of Planet Kill’s inauguration. You know it?”
Pierce nodded.
“You’ve got twenty minutes. That’s it. Any longer, and I’ll suspect funny business. Get in, get out, like how you fuck. Make it quick and don’t upset her. She’s dealing with enough as it is.”
Before his Unit Chief had even finished speaking, Pierce had spun around and was out the door. No time to waste.
Planet Kill Page 6
