He stepped outside the shack and sure enough, two people were running down the road away from the base. One of them was Larissa. The other carried a large rifle slung over his shoulder. That had to be Eric. Of all the terrorist band, Owen figured him for the most dangerous. Although given how powerful those explosives had been he might have to revise that estimate. Either way, the two of them were far too deadly to allow them to escape.
The little Naga gun in his hand still had some juice left. The charge light which had been green was now an orange color. Owen wasn't sure what that meant. He might have another dozen shots left with the thing or much less. Wasting one at this range would be pointless. He needed to get closer to them, ideally without being shot himself.
Owen took off at a sprint after the fleeing duo. His feet pounded against the pavement as he pushed himself as hard as he could, straining to close the gap between them. Somewhere behind him, he heard someone shout his name. It sounded like Hereford, but that was impossible. A general would never be out in the middle of a combat zone - would he?
There was no time to stop and find out, not if he wanted to overtake the fleeing pair. They had a long head start. For a moment he wasn't sure he could catch up with them before they vanished, but then they stopped to rest by the rocks where he’d hidden them just a short while before. Owen slowed down as he closed in on them. He raised his weapon and aimed it, but he didn’t have a clean shot yet. Too much rock in the way, and his aim with the tiny weapon was crap.
“Eric! It’s over. Give yourself up!” Owen called out.
“Like hell!” Eric snarled in reply. Gunshots rang out.
Owen hit the deck, the bullets whizzing by overhead. Shit, that had been close. If he’d been a half-second slower he would’ve eaten those rounds. Eric wasn’t playing for anything but keeps. He’d identified Owen as an enemy and was treating him like one. Fine, then. It wasn’t like it was his first time under enemy fire. He felt his mind slip into that cool, calm place he’d found during the battle aboard the Naga warship.
He rolled sideways, both to avoid any more incoming rounds and to get a better vantage point to shoot. Coming up into a crouching position, he risked holding still for just long enough to get a shot off. Larissa was in full view, digging through her bag again. Probably about to toss one of her bombs at him. No way he was going to let that happen.
Owen depressed the firing stud and sent a bluish blast at her. It impacted the rock instead, spraying dust and gravel into the air. He cursed and fired again. This shot nailed her right in the chest. Larissa’s eyes went wide as the shot hit. The force of the bolt sent her tumbling backward. That would keep her down for a while, leaving only Eric to deal with.
Where was he? Owen’s eyes darted to the left just a moment too late. A pistol smacked down on the side of his skull. He crashed to the ground, dizzy and nauseous. Eric must have rushed him while he was shooting at the woman. Owen reached up to feel his temple. His fingers came away wet. But he wasn’t dead yet, which was something.
Eric’s foot lashed out and kicked his weapon away. It skittered over to the rock pile and came to a stop well outside his reach. Owen rolled over onto his back, drawing in his left leg to lash out with a kick, but instead found himself staring down the muzzle of Eric’s pistol. He swallowed hard.
“Nobody is dead, Eric. You can still walk away from this without a murder charge,” Owen said.
“I want you dead for what you’ve done. But if I was planning to do it, you’d already be full of holes,” Eric replied. “No, I think you might be the ticket to getting my people free. Prisoner exchange, get it? They’re still alive, right?”
At least he wasn’t planning on killing anyone right away. That was worth something. “Yeah, they’re all alive. Larissa too. Stunning weapons. I specifically asked them to bring non-lethal weapons.”
“Why betray us at all? I don’t get it, man. I’ve seen your Facebook history. You don’t like the Naga any more than I do,” Eric said.
“I’ve been out there,” Owen replied, pointing toward the stars. “There are worse things than Naga, and they’re coming for us.”
“Then we’ll fight them, too. We don’t nee to work with those damned lizards to do it!” Eric shouted. “Now, get up. We’re leaving. You try anything I’ll just shoot you and take my chances with getting my friends back some other way.”
Owen got slowly to his feet, taking as much time as he could manage without it seeming like he was stalling. Which of course was precisely what he was trying to do. The security force would come this way soon enough. If he could just...
“Move, I said!” Eric snapped. He shoved Owen ahead. “Double time!”
His head throbbed. The wet patch was slowly spreading down the side of his face. It was hard to think beyond just following orders so he could stay alive. Owen did as Eric asked. What choice did he have? He broke into a light jog toward where the truck had been stashed.
“I think not,” Garul’s voice said from a short distance behind them.
Sixteen
Garul spotted Owen sprinting away from the gate shack and shook his head. The boy was courageous, but going off after an armed enemy without backup was a good way to get killed. If he could work with McInness long enough to train him, Garul had every reason to believe he could grow into a great warrior. But only if his inexperience didn’t get him killed in the meantime.
“McInness! Wait!” Hereford shouted. The general shook his head. Whether the young man heard the command or not, Garul couldn’t tell, but he didn’t obey it.
The time for thinking was over. It was a moment for action. Garul placed one clawed hand on the concrete barrier and used that support to vault over the thing. His legs hit the ground with bent knees, already loaded to spring forward into a run. Naga were different from humans in a number of crucial physical ways, he’d discovered. His people couldn’t match the humans for distance endurance. The human ability to run seemingly forever was astonishing, a remarkable evolutionary trait. But for a short burst of speed, no human could outperform a Naga.
He held his rifle in front of him as he tore off at a speed that would have left an Olympic sprinter behind. He couldn’t maintain the pace for long, but his people had evolved from ambush predators. Everything in the Naga metabolism was geared toward incredible bursts of speed, which was precisely what Garul needed just then if he was to catch up with McInness before his youthful exuberance got him killed.
Ahead, Garul saw the tell-tale flash of light from Owen’s pocket blaster. Garul smiled. Bringing the weapon along had been a good idea. Certainly, as a diplomat he wasn’t planning to come to Earth armed to the teeth. Neither did he want to be defenseless. Handing the little gun over to Owen had been an impulsive action, but one which might be paying proper dividends now. A second flash of light burst down by the rocks. Had he taken both of the foes down, then?
No, one was still up. The man struck Owen with his weapon before Garul could close with them. Then he aimed the handgun at McInness. Garul slowed and slipped sideways into the cover of some shadow. If he fired while the man’s gun was aimed at McInness, the force of the shot might cause him to pull the trigger. If the man planned to shoot, he would have done so instead of hitting Owen. Better to wait until there was a chance to take a clean shot.
The two spoke a few sentences to each other. Garul could almost make out the words, but not quite hear them. Owen rolled slowly to his feet and started marching away from the base, the gunman right behind him. Still Garul couldn’t shoot without risking his protege. He let out a soft growl of frustration when Owen and his captor broke into a light jog. Another few moments and it would be too late to do anything at all.
Time to act. Garul stepped from the shadows, raising his rifle, and boomed, “I think not.”
The gunman whirled toward the sound of his voice, pistol raised. Fire flashed from the gun’s muzzle, but Garul was already moving. His powerful legs carried him in a bound to his right. He landed alrea
dy firing his own weapon. The bolt discharged in a ball of light that flashed just past his foe’s ear. The man yelped in surprise but to his credit brought the pistol around in a controlled arc, following Garul’s movements.
No ordinary man, this. He was actually worth fighting! Garul’s mouth curved in a smile as he dropped into a forward roll and came up swinging the rifle. The man fired two more shots. One missed, the other pinged off Garul’s armor. The shock of that impact sent the wind flying from Garul’s lungs, but he kept moving. This was no time to allow an injury to slow him! His rifle swing lacked power, though, and was too slow. The human was able to step back and avoid the blow.
“Finally, an enemy I want to kill,” the human said. He fired the pistol again, but it clicked instead of shooting. It was empty. He dropped the pistol and unslung the rifle from his shoulder. “Ah well. This might be even better this way. Let’s do this, then.”
Owen closed from behind the gunman, hands up and ready to strike. Garul shook his head at his protege. “I have this one, Haklek. He wants combat with a Naga? He shall have it!”
The young man backed off, looking confused, then darted aside toward the rock pile. Garul couldn’t keep track of him after that. He was too busy struggling against the human facing him, who swung a powerful blow with his rifle. Garul blocked it, but it was merely a feint. The human pulled the weapon back and twisted it, launching a lightning-fast butt stroke toward Garul’s head. He tapped the strike away with his own rifle.
“Haklek? What’s that?” the human asked. “Someone you brainwashed? Can’t imagine how else you got a kid to side with you after murdering his parents.”
Garul swung his rifle in low and was rewarded with a meaty thwack as it slapped against the man’s leg. He didn’t fall, but was limping on that side. “There is much you don’t understand. Haklek is apprentice. He is my warrior’s apprentice by his own choice. I would never force a being into that role.”
The man snarled and whipped his gun around in a series of attacks. Any one of them alone, Garul could block. But the sum of all those strikes was too much for even his defense. He was forced back first one step and then another. Despite the dire situation, Garul found himself enjoying the combat. It was always good to face someone who could challenge him in a fight. Finding one among humans was unexpected. “What skills you have! You should join us. The Kkiktchikut are coming. We need every warrior fighting alongside us.”
“Never. I’ll die first.”
A shame. This one would be a fine addition to any fighting force. Garul sensed when the human was tiring. He knew the man would never be able to maintain such a flurry of attacks for long. No being could. The Naga backed away another step, allowing the human to wear itself out. Once it had, he would strike, and end this.
“Got it!” Owen said from somewhere off to Garul’s side. He stood up, something in his hand. Garul knew without looking that it had to be the small pistol. While he was too close to fire his rifle, the smaller weapon was perfect for short ranges.
Apparently the gunman realized that as well. Garul saw the decision flash cross the man’s eyes an instant before the human took two swift steps backward, placing him out of Garul’s reach. Worse, his Naga rifle was facing entirely in the wrong direction to shoot. He’d been taken off-guard by the sudden reversal.
The human leveled his rifle at Owen, trying to shoot the young man before he could use the Naga pistol. Garul had no way of knowing which of them would be able to fire first. he couldn’t take the chance that his brand new Haklek would be able to win the quick-draw contest. Owen’s weapon would stun, but the human’s rifle could kill.
Garul gave a mighty war-cry and threw his body into the human’s rifle. He knocked the barrel partly out of alignment, but the man still managed to get a shot off. Pain flashed through Garul’s belly as if it had been set on fire. He crumpled around the injury, panting for breath.
Seventeen
Owen rose from the ground, his Naga weapon back in hand. His head was still throbbing, but he had to help Garul. As he stood he watched Eric spin the rifle around and aim it toward him. Owen raised his little pop-gun, but he could already tell he wasn’t going to get a shot off in time. The other man was simply too fast.
He braced for the impact he knew was coming.
But Garul dove straight at Eric’s rifle, shoving it aside the only way he could - with his body. The gun went off, report deafening. Owen saw Garul’s body jerk in reaction to the shot. He’d been hit! The Naga collapsed to the ground, curling around his belly protectively.
“One less lizard,” Eric said. He spat at Garul’s body and then bolted toward the field where his truck was hidden.
Owen fired a shot, but Eric was moving too quickly. He missed. He fired twice more, but neither shot impacted. Depressing the firing stud one more time gave him only a small fizzle of sound. It was out of juice. He tucked the useless weapon back in his pocket and rushed to Garul’s side. Eric could wait. If Garul had been shot, he needed help quickly.
The Naga snarled as Owen drew close, then relaxed when he saw who it was kneeling beside him. “Man gone?”
Owen nodded. “How bad are you hurt?”
“Painful, but not lethal with medical aid,” Garul replied. His teeth ground together as Owen moved his hand so that he could see the injury. Blood covered the Naga’s hand and was smeared all over his armor. In the center of the mess was a thumb-sized hole in the plates.
Owen winced. He hadn’t seen an exit wound, which meant the bullet was still rattling around in there somewhere. Then he spotted the Naga healing tool, still buckled to Garul’s belt. He unhooked it and examined the device, trying to figure out how to use it.
“Button on the top turns on,” Garul rasped. “Hold over wound.”
That was all the Naga managed to say before he passed out. That was more than worrying. Garul was tough as nails. If this injury was severe enough that he lost consciousness, then he was in real danger. Owen pressed the button to turn on the healing device and held it near the bullet hole.
At first he wasn’t sure anything was happening. He kept the device in place, hoping it would be enough to stabilize his friend. Damn it, Garul shouldn’t even have been out there! Why was he putting himself at risk? He was too important to lose. But on the other hand, he shouldn’t have been surprised. When had the old Naga ever been anyplace except in the thick of things? His presence shouldn’t have been a shock at all. His mad rush to help Owen wasn’t surprising, either.
Neither was his self-sacrifice. Damn it. Owen felt sharp pangs of guilt. His actions had been what put Garul in jeopardy.
Garul groaned. His eyelids fluttered. Was the device finally helping? Owen knew far too little about how the thing worked to tell for sure. He hoped it would be enough, and maintained it right over the wound. Garul blinked again, then his eyes opened. He gave Owen a sharp-toothed Naga smile.
“Ah, knew you would get it,” Garul said.
“Good thing I did. You didn’t look so good.”
“Good thing, yes,” Garul replied. He sighed. “The man?”
“He got away. My gun ran out of charge before I could hit him,” Owen replied.
“Will catch him later. Help me up before Hereford’s soldiers try to haul me off on a litter,” Garul said.
The Naga groaned as Owen helped him rise. He was heavy! Owen felt like he was lifting half of a horse. It didn’t get better when Garul placed his arm on Owen’s shoulders for support. But he could bear the weight. Had to bear it. Garul was only hurt because he’d screwed up somewhere. It was the least he could do.
They walked slowly toward the gate shack, hobbling like old men. Ahead, there were ambulances coming around to deal with the other wounded. Soldiers called out to one another and handcuffed prisoners while they were still unconscious. Several of the security force saw Garul and Owen limping their way forward and called for help.
Much to Garul’s chagrin, they absolutely did insist on easing him onto a st
retcher and then piling him into the nearest ambulance. The Naga wanted to refuse, but then Hereford appeared beside him.
“Think how bad it would look for Earth to have the first Naga ambassador killed on the first day of his visit. Get in the ambulance,” Hereford said, his tone brooking no discussion.
Garul smiled at the general, but Hereford wasn’t buying it. He stood there, hands on hips, until Garul relented and agreed to let a doctor look him over. “So long as they let me heal using Naga medicine. You humans’ medical technology is archaic.”
“Whatever. Bring the little toy with you. But we’re getting you checked out,” Hereford replied.
Once the ambulance was away, the general turned to Owen. “What happened?”
“Sir?”
Hereford waved at the scene. Several soldiers were being treated for burn and shrapnel wounds. “I have people down. You wanna fill me in on who we were fighting?”
Owen gave him a quick report of everything he’d done and seen since leaving the base. He talked about the bar full of protesters, of meeting Eric, about how the man had brought him back to camp with him. There he’d met all the others in the group.
“A camp, like a campground?” Hereford asked.
“Yes, sir. They had kids there,” Owen replied.
“Shit. Which is why you asked for non-lethal,” Hereford said. Owen opened his mouth to apologize but the general waved it away before he could speak. “No, it was the right call. We would have had the casualties either way, and no one died. Thank god. It would have been nice to know beforehand how serious a threat we were dealing with, but there was no way you could have told me. You did well.”
Peace Talks (Adventures of the Starship Satori Book 12) Page 7
