Assassin on Centauri B (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 7)

by John Bowers

  “You said it was a long story, but here we are with plenty of time. How did you get here from Kiev?”

  “My parents died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She waved a hand. “It was six years ago. But I found myself alone in the world, and a little scared. My father left me a small inheritance, but it didn’t last long.”

  He nodded, but remained silent.

  “My parents had told me that we were distant relatives of the Petreykin family, and that if I ever found myself in trouble, they would help me.”

  “Were you in trouble?”

  “No, but I felt vulnerable. I went to college on a program set up to help orphans, but—”

  “Did you graduate?”

  “Graduate?”

  “From college. You don’t look old enough.”

  “Thank you!” She laughed. “Maybe I look younger, but I’m twenty-three.

  “I got a business degree from U.F. Kiev, but I was still alone. So I took a chance and contacted the Petreykins, explained my situation. I don’t think I really expected anything much to come of it, but within a week two men turned up at my door. They gave me a starship ticket and told me that I could use it to come here, or never contact the family again. So…here I am.”

  “Wow. Just like that.”

  “Just like that.”

  “Do you like it here?”

  “Yeah, I do. It’s a beautiful planet, not as crowded as Terra, and I’m no longer alone.”

  Nick nodded. “The Petreykins are good people?”

  She smiled at the irony of the question.

  “They are good to me. I don’t think everyone sees them that way.”

  “Why are you working as a hostess? I would think they’d put your business degree to use.”

  “I don’t think they trust me that far. And…I’m not sure I want to get involved in the business end of the family.”

  Nick nodded again and sucked down more cold water. Thanks to the blanket, he had stopped shivering, but the water chilled his insides and he wasn’t completely comfortable yet.

  “What about you, Nick? I heard part of your story, but not all of it. Are you a hit man, or what?”

  “I prefer the term ‘specialist’.”

  She sat watching him, twisting the soft drink container in her hands.

  “You don’t need to worry,” he told her. “I don’t kill for fun, and I won’t kill just anyone. The target has to meet my criteria.”

  “What kind of criteria?”

  “They have to be bad people. I won’t, for instance, take out a witness just to keep him from testifying against somebody. Mainly, I go after people like…” He gave a short laugh. “Well, people like me.”

  “Does that make it okay?”

  “Yeah. For me, it does. Surely this isn’t new to you.”

  She shrugged. “I know the people who employ me use violence from time to time, but I keep away from all of that. To me, it’s just a job.”

  “That’s how it is for me, too.” He smiled. “Just a job.”

  She tilted her head slightly. When she spoke, her voice had softened.

  “You’re not like the others.”

  “What others?”

  “The goons at work.”

  Nick laughed. “Are you calling me a goon?”

  “Omigod!” Nicola threw both hands over her face and laughed. When she removed them, her cheeks were red. “No, I didn’t mean that. I just mean…you’re different.”

  “Well, that’s no surprise, is it? This is a different planet, a different culture. After I’ve been here a while, I might turn out just like those goons…or even worse.”

  “I don’t believe that. You won’t be worse.”

  “Don’t be too sure.”

  She set her drink down.

  “Well, however it turns out, you probably need to get some sleep. It’s late, and we have to be up early.”

  “No argument here.”

  “Come on. I’ll show you where you sleep.”

  Chapter 11

  Wednesday, April 1, 0448 (CC)

  Periscope Harbor – Beta Centauri

  Nick stood on the deck of Nicola’s cabin cruiser a little after dawn, sipping a cup of hot coffee. The wind had stopped. The sun was rising over the mountains in the west, and the temperature, while still chilly, was starting to rise. It looked like a beautiful day ahead.

  He felt the deck rock and looked around. Nicola smiled at him as she emerged from the hatch, a cup in her hand.

  “Good morning,” he said. “I took the liberty of firing up your coffee maker.”

  “So I noticed.” She sipped from her own cup. “You make good coffee.”

  “You have good equipment. Makes it easy. What’s the plan for this morning?”

  “We have to be at Rodina at nine. We have time for breakfast. You hungry?”

  “Most of the time.”

  She laughed and stepped back inside the boat. He gazed across the marina toward the harbor, drinking his coffee. The activity at the docks was just as feverish as the night before. He heard the distant whine of cargo cranes, an occasional shout, and the blast of a ship’s horn. It was a busy harbor. As he watched, he felt a bump against the side of the boat and glanced over the side. The water was swirling as if something were moving just beneath the surface. As he watched, something dark and cylindrical emerged from the water. For a moment he didn’t know what it was—it looked like a submarine periscope, only it was alive.

  The periscope swiveled toward him and, amazingly, he found himself staring into a large pair of black eyes that blinked at him. For a few seconds he could hardly believe it was a real creature, then the rest of the head emerged and he saw a whiskered nose sniff the air.

  “Arh! Arh! Arh! Arh!”

  The creature suddenly lifted half out of the water, revealing a white belly, then did a ballet-like pirouette and dove back into the water—backward. It hardly made a splash, then the water became calm and the creature was gone.

  So that was what they looked like. A periscope seal.

  Ten minutes later, Nicola called him inside. They sat down to hotcakes and sliced ham. Nick poured more coffee and wolfed down the hot food. Nicola was a decent cook and he told her so.

  “After I lost my parents, I had to cook for myself. I got to be pretty good at it. What about you—do you cook for yourself?”

  “When I have to. I’m pretty good at scrambling water and burning salt. Occasionally my food is even edible.” He set his coffee cup down. “Did you say you have a gun?”

  “Da.”

  “You don’t happen to have a spare, do you?”

  Her expression turned serious.

  “You don’t have one?”

  “I did, but I couldn’t get it through the spaceport. Didn’t even try.”

  “I’m sure my boss knows that. If you suddenly turn up with a weapon, I don’t know how he will react.”

  Nick grunted. “It’s just that I feel naked without one.”

  “I understand. I could give you one, but you probably shouldn’t take it to work, at least until they clear you to carry one.”

  “Okay. You know them better than I do, so I’ll just be patient.”

  After breakfast, Nick washed up in the boat’s tiny head. He had left his space bag at the apartment. It hadn’t occurred to him that he might need it, and now he hoped Nicola didn’t ask him about his luggage. She didn’t.

  “Are you ready?” she asked when he came out of the head.

  “Ready for what?”

  “The Rodina.”

  He glanced at his watch. “It’s only seven-thirty. Petreykin said be there at nine.”

  “Orel likes people to be early. He often says that, if you are early, you’re on time, but if you are on time, you’re late.”

  Nick shrugged. “Then let’s go.”

  When they left the boat for the walk back to the Rodina, he was still wearing his clothes from the night before. Nicola looked s
exy in a tight blue dress and heels. Her perfume was intoxicating.

  As they headed down the floating walkway toward the street, several people were visible on other boats. Everyone seemed to know Nicola.

  “Dobroe utro, Nikola!”

  “Dobroe utro. Prekrasnyj den’, ne tak li?”

  “Da. Novyj paren’?”

  She laughed. “On moj dvojurodnyj brat.”

  “What was that about?” Nick asked when they were almost to the street.

  “Everyone thinks I have a new boyfriend. I told them you were my cousin.”

  “They all seem to like you.”

  “Of course they do. I’m a loveable girl.”

  She took his arm again as they hit the street and headed up the long avenue toward Rodina. The city, if it had ever slept, was already awake. Traffic was still light, but steadily building. Nick glanced up at the skytowers, now backlit by the rising sun.

  “Amazing town. Not very big. What’s the population?”

  “I’m not sure. A couple of million, I think. It’s constantly growing, and we get lots of off-world tourists.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  Nick lowered his head as a police car skimmed by. He still wore the knit cap to hide his tattoos but, after Nicola’s assurance of the night before, was less concerned about being arrested. Still, a little caution never hurt.

  They were halfway to their destination, pedestrians starting to clog the sidewalk, when two men suddenly barred their way. Nicola gasped at the sight of them. Nick had no time to react as the closer of the two swung a fist into his left cheek, rattling his teeth. The second man stood a couple of feet behind the first, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Both men looked rough, like dock workers.

  Nick took a step back to recover his balance. His hands clenched into fists.

  “Did you have something in mind?” he asked his assailant, “or did you just want to say hello.”

  “Gimme your money!” the man said.

  “Who said I have any money?”

  “You’re a tourist, aren’t you? Tourists always have money.”

  The voice was guttural, but the English was flawless. Nick detected no trace of an accent.

  “Who are you working for, pal?”

  “I work for myself. Gimme your money.”

  “Come and take it.”

  Nick set himself on both feet, ready to do battle. He wasn’t quite prepared for what happened next—the man in his face whipped out a laser pistol and jammed it practically under his nose.

  “I won’t tell you again! Hand over the cash.”

  Nick stared at him for a brief moment, then glanced at the second man, who hadn’t said a word. He was glaring back with laser-eyed intensity. Polina’s words sprang to mind.

  Second man will not talk, but when talk is done, second man will shoot you in head.

  Nick took two steps back and dropped into a half crouch. He waved his arms in front of him like a holo-vid karate character, narrowed his eyes, opened his mouth, and released a cat-like howl.

  “Ooooooooooooo-wah!”

  The man with the laser stared in disbelief, then burst out laughing.

  “What the fuck is this! Who do you think you are, Sing-Sing Lee?”

  Nick moaned and waved his hands again. His assailant only laughed louder.

  The second man did not.

  Nick dropped his hands and stood up straight.

  “Okay. You’ve got the gun. What do you want?”

  “I told you. Give me the money.”

  Nick sighed and pulled out his wallet. He stepped forward and handed it to the gunman. For just an instant, the man’s attention was diverted to the wallet, and Nick made his move. This time it wasn’t a joke—with his left hand, he grabbed his opponent’s gun wrist, shoving it to the side, then jammed two fingers of his right hand into the second man’s eyes. As Number Two fell back with a cry of pain, Nick slammed the heel of his right hand up under the gunman’s chin, snapping his head back with an audible crack! The man dropped like a stone and Nick wrenched his weapon free. He shoved it into the second man’s face, almost too late.

  The second man, more alert than the first, had drawn his own weapon and was swinging it toward Nick.

  “Drop it!” Nick ordered. “You have two seconds. One…two…”

  “Fuck you!”

  Nick fired. The laser bolt burned through the second man’s left eye and scrambled his brain. He also dropped, his skull cracking when it hit the sidewalk.

  “Omigod! Omigod!” Nicola’s hands covered her mouth in shock. “You killed him! You killed both of them!”

  “I hope so. They weren’t very nice men.”

  Nick bent to retrieve his wallet, then wiped his fingerprints off the laser pistol with his handkerchief. He stepped over the bodies, leaving both weapons behind. People on the sidewalk were staring in surprise, but moved aside as Nick and Nicola kept walking.

  “I think we need to hurry,” he said.

  She trotted to keep up with him, her heels clicking on the sidewalk.

  “Nick, this is big trouble! Those were Lebed’s men!”

  He glanced at her in surprise. “You know them?”

  “Yes. The first one was Pavel, the other was Bruno. We call them the Molotov Twins—”

  “They’re brothers?”

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s just that you never see one without the other, like they’re joined at the hip.” She glanced back, still shaking. The sidewalk crowd had clustered around the bodies and someone was talking on a portable phone. “I think the police will be here soon. We need to get off the street.”

  “Looks like the Rodina is only a couple of blocks away.”

  “We’ll never make it. The cops will swarm this entire street any second now.” She grabbed his arm. “Come on!”

  She broke into a run, in spite of her heels, and Nick followed. Just two hundred feet ahead of them was an opening in the sidewalk, an escalator leading down to what Nick assumed was a subway system. Still gripping his arm, Nicola headed down it. The escalator ended at a long, subterranean corridor that opened up in both directions like a shopping mall. To Nick’s surprise, the corridor was lined with shops and restaurants, sort of a street beneath the street. He’d seen similar setups in New York, London, Tokyo, and Chicago.

  “Holy shit!” he breathed. “I thought this was a subway system.”

  “We have that too, but not on this street. Come on, if we hurry, we can reach the Rodina without being seen.”

  Due to the early hour, none of the underground shops were open yet, and pedestrian traffic was light. They reached the Rodina in less than five minutes; the door was unmarked, with no clue to which establishment it belonged—and it was locked. Nicola produced a sonic key to open it, and a minute later they were climbing a stairwell inside the building up to ground level. They emerged in a hallway just off the main dance floor.

  The building was quiet. Nick saw two middle-aged women cleaning the wooden dance floor the old-fashioned way, with wet mops. In a far corner of the mezzanine he heard a vacuum cleaner.

  Nicola led him straight to the bar, walked around behind it, and poured herself a drink. She was still shaking.

  Nick watched her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t expect anything like that. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  “You’ve never seen men fight?”

  “Fight, yes, but…Jesus, Nick! You killed them with your bare hands!”

  “Only one of them. I didn’t have a gun and I figured you didn’t have a chance to get to yours.”

  “I had my hand on it, but I didn’t shoot because I knew them. I didn’t think they were going to hurt us. I think it was a test to see how you would react.”

  Nick nodded, his mind racing. Nicola poured herself another drink.

  “Well, if it was a test, how did I do?”

  She emitted a short laugh, a bark of emotion.

&nb
sp; “I don’t know! You didn’t let them beat you, but I don’t know how the boss will react to the fact that you killed two of his men.”

  “You’re assuming they’re dead.”

  “You shot Bruno through the eye! I think he might be dead.”

  “Right, but the other one—Pavel? He might just have a sprained neck. Hard to tell at this point.”

  Nicola finished her drink and dropped the glass into an automatic washer under the bar.

  “You want one?”

  “No.”

  She reached into a cooler and pulled out two bottles of cold water. She handed him one and opened the other for herself. She had stopped shaking, but still looked rattled. Nick popped the cap on his water and took a slug.

  “Are you going to be in trouble?” he asked her.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

  “If they ask you, just tell it like it happened. It was really fast, you didn’t have time to speak or react.”

  She nodded, then tipped her water bottle again.

  Before either of them could say more, Diana Stepurin walked into the room from the direction of the anti-grav lift. When she saw Nick, she smiled.

  “Nick Russo! You are early.”

  He grinned. “Better than being late.”

  She walked up to him and took him by the arm.

  “Good. Orel is already here, so we can go right up.”

  “Okay.”

  Diana led him out of the room without a word to Nicola, who remained behind.

  “Did Nicola find you a room?”

  “I spent the night on her boat.”

  “Really!” Diana’s eyes twinkled. “How convenient.”

  “Nothing like that. I was dead tired, and all I did was sleep.”

  “No matter.” Diana was still grinning. “She is not my daughter. If she likes you, do as you please.”

  Orel Petreykin was seated at his desk, sipping coffee and gazing out the window at the early morning bustle of Periscope Harbor. He was alone as Nick and Diana entered; when he turned to them his expression didn’t change. No smile, no pleasantries.

  “You are early.”

  Nick nodded. “Nothing else to do, so I came on over here.”

  “Good. You ready to work?”