Sons of Abraham: Terminate

by Ray, Joseph

  “Have a nice day,” Hannah Beam spurted from her desk.

  “Thanks,” Janys muttered though the Corporal lacked any enthusiasm in her words.

  They trekked the long hallway, the Parasus horizon in full view from the top of the Divinity building. Bearden watched the various transport vehicles scurry across the roads below, wondering if an attack on Parasus itself was likely. The planet was known more for its tourism, offering boat trips to exotic locations of the planet’s islands, as well as galactic tours of nebulas and stars, assuming one had enough credits in their account. Somehow, he couldn’t see a tourist planet having the military presence to handle a terrorist attack.

  The elevator opened as the three men waited for Bearden and Janys to reach the back of the lift before entering. The man on the right pressed the button on the panel as the group watched the doors close before them.

  Bearden’s mind continued to work through the events. Lache should have been pissed upon discovering the attack on his facility. The man should have shown some indication that he wouldn’t rest until the dead were brought to justice. He memorized the man’s taut face, replaying the conversation through his head as the elevator descended. Something about the situation didn’t sit well in his stomach, leaving him to question the motives of the CEO. He understood why they only met with him, rather than a committee. Lache would need to use his own words to inform his people, and not the gruesome picture that Bearden would paint for them. He would use political terms, like ‘unfortunate’ and ‘hostile.’ No matter how many times he played the conversation through his head, he still could not wrap his mind around why they were going to Taurus when logic dictated they go to Earth.

  “Well, at least, Taurus has its own gravity,” Janys whispered. “No more floating tank adventures for you, Sargent.”

  The red-haired woman’s words were lost to him as his eye caught something on one of the man’s pants. The man on the right, operating the lift, had a bright light coming from his pants pocket. Bearden’s dark blue eyes focused on the outline, realizing that a data pad had just received a message. The thin material of the man’s pants did little to obscure the view as two outlines were clearly visible through the fabric.

  Bearden looked to the wall of the elevator, the glass-like surface reflecting the images of the man’s data pad. He could make out two faces with a block of text in between them. His curiosity was gaining the better of him, driving him insane with what was on the data pad.

  “At least, he didn’t fire us,” Janys continued. “I think they should promote us, but maybe CEO’s see things differently. Maybe this transfer will be a good thing, you know? At least, we can stretch our legs on Taurus and eat some decent food for a change. What ya think?”

  Bearden ignored her, still focused on the data pad in the man’s pocket. He didn’t know why there would be a message with two people’s pictures on it. Maybe the company was placing a bulletin for the missing scientist. He frowned, realizing that Dr. Green would be the only one Divinity cared about. The rest were lab techs, easily replaced with new recruits or transfers. The entire security force could be replaced as well as many ex-military sought Divinity for their next assignment. Divinity paid well and had stronger benefits packages than the military of any planet, save Eden. Somehow, Bearden doubted that the Overseers would welcome an aging ex-grunt. Still, he couldn’t quite understand what Divinity would be doing by placing two people’s pictures on notice. It suddenly dawned on him who the two people might be.

  His hand lashed out, shoving into the man’s pants pocket and retrieving the data pad. The startled man twirled around, his eyes barely reaching the Sargent’s chin. The Sargent shoved on meaty paw against the man’s chest, pinning him to the wall of the elevator, and preventing him from retrieving his property.

  “What the hell?” the middle man snapped.

  “Sarge?” Janys asked, her eyes becoming uneasy as the three men in suits looked to one another.

  Bearden didn’t care about their protests, his fingers darted across the screen of the pad, and brought the message back to life. As he’d suspected, a picture of himself and Janys James filled the screen, the words ‘terminate’ resting in the red block between the profiles. He didn’t think twice, his training kicking into a place of his mind as his hand clenched the man’s shirt, pulled him forward, and then smashed him against the wall of the elevator.

  The other two men started to merge on the towering Sargent. Janys stepped back, then lunged forward, her fist crushing the jaw of the man on the left. He stumbled to his knees, knocking the man in the middle off balance, bringing him to the ground as well.

  “What is this?!” Bearden snapped, holding the datapad to the man’s face. “Why does it say ‘terminate’ next to our pictures?”

  A gun was drawn from under a jacket, quickly being pulled to face the aggressive Sargent. Bearden dropped the man from his grasp, turning his attention to the pistol. His hand clutched over the gun, wrenching from the smaller man’s grip before he could pull the safety lever. Bearden’s hand swung back, then lashed forward, the handle of the pistol smashing into the nose of the suited man in the middle.

  Janys had fallen back, the word ‘terminate’ kicking her in the brain. She watched the scene unfold, her body unwilling to move on the men who attacked her friend. The word began to turn, stabbing her throat, trying to plunge deep into her heart. Her face became flush, her skin turning red as she lifted her right foot and stomped her boot on the face of the man on the left, still trying to get back to his feet. The blood from the man’s nose splattered against the mirror surface of the elevator, distorting the reflection. She knelt, her hands fumbling under the dazed man’s jacket, searching for her salvation. She found it in a form of a pistol, pulling the strap and freeing it from the holster. She continued her search, retrieving a datapad from the man’s left pants pocket. She brought it to life, confirming the message that the other man had received. Her profile picture stared back at her, the word ‘terminate’ written in capital, bold letters. Her blood continued to boil as the man’s hands fumbled around the floor, trying to grasp onto her boot. Like her Sargent, she reached back, then smashed the butt of the pistol into the man’s bloodied face. The hands fell flat on the floor.

  “Answer me!” he snapped, pressing the ‘hold’ button on the elevator panel. “Why were you ordered to kill us?”

  The man looked confused as his eyes looked to his co-workers, lying motionless on the elevator floor. His eyes were wide in terror, his hands stretched above his shoulders, giving in to the rage of the larger man.

  “I…..I….donot know,” he shrieked. “I didn’t SEND the message, it just came in. I can’t answer you, Sargent.”

  The Sargent knew the elevator was heading to the ground floor. He anticipated that several men would be waiting, rifles in hand, to escort him and Janys somewhere secluded. He needed time to think, time to strategize how to get Janys and himself to safety, away from the grasp of Divinity Corporation. Reaching Earth was secondary at this point, the immediate threat having shown its hand too soon.

  He pressed the next number on the screen. The elevator came to life, its doors opening at the next floor. There were twenty floors between them and the ground floor or the subfloor where the soldiers were waiting to take them in. With his decision made, he smashed the pistol’s grip into the man’s face, rendering him unconscious, perhaps dead. At this point, he really didn’t care which.

  “Gotta move,” he snapped, taking he man’s weapon from the holster.

  Janys stepped over the pile of bodies, trying to catch up with the Sargent. Her muscles were still sore from the attack on the Parasus moon, begging her to lay down and rest for a week. Her training kicked in, forcing her body to be silent as she moved in boots in stride with the Sargent.

  “What the hell?” she whispered. “Why would they kill us? We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You’re not looking at it right,” he muttered, turning the corner t
o the right and continuing down the long hallway. The building was only half finished, leaving several of the floors incomplete, their support beams, wiring, and air ducts exposed to his view. He grabbed her arm, ducked between two of the support beams, and closed in behind a scaffold.

  “You need to think like them,” he whispered. “Think about it for a minute. How many people just LET those harriers land and enter the facility? There wasn’t any blood in the Tower until we put it there, so it’s possible those scientist hopped right onto those harriers willingly. Yeah, maybe there was a gun to their heads, but we can’t think like that right now. It’s way safer for us to assume that they went on their own desire to leave. That means they were in on it too. Hell, the whole company might be in on this Janys, have you thought about that at all?”

  “No, I’m not buying that,” she whimpered. “We have to tell somebody. We can make a call to the Parasus guards and have someone pick us up.”

  “No good. Isom and his people might be in on it too. I doubt it, but we can’t risk it. Earth is our only option, but for now, we need to get off this planet.”

  “Well, we have to get out of the building first. You got a plan for that yet?”

  “No, but this place being incomplete is a blessing. Doubt they have cameras on every level yet. They’ll figure out what floor we’re on soon enough, so I suggest we drop down another level or two.”

  They broke from the unfinished hallway, stepping between clusters of cables that hung from the ceiling. Behind them, the elevator dinged, causing Bearden to grab Janys by the arm and pull her behind another girder.

  Footsteps stomped on the floor. The pair held their breath as the oncoming group broke up. Some of the footsteps went to the left of the elevator, the others took to the right, towards the hidden fugitives. Bearden knelt down, one blue eye peering around the support beam, catching a figure passing between the frame of the unconstructed hall. He waited for a second, then turned to Janys and held up three fingers. She nodded, her pale eyes locked onto his in determination.

  The group of suited men rounded the corner. One continued down the hallway while the other two split up and stepped between the support beams to either side. They stepped in unison, guns raised to eye level, a finger ready at the trigger.

  Janys closed her eyes, forcing her lungs to slow down their intake of oxygen. Her body had spent its adrenaline at the Tower, leaving her exhausted and barely able to move. To her advantage, her nerves were turning cold, a steel will to live forming in her hands as she turned off the safety to her pistol.

  The floor was silent, save the three sets of footsteps that slowly closed in around them. They could fire their weapons, each taking out one of the oncoming men, and hope to catch the third before he got a shot off. That possibility would only lead to the other group closing in on them as well, forcing them to retreat to the stairwell, hoping that another set of suits with guns hadn’t already set to guard the exit.

  The man in the hallway was only ten feet away now. Bearden could feel the fine bits of construction rubble shifting under the man’s dress shoes as he turned left to right, scanning for a target. The flanking men were keeping pace, each making certain to stay within the visual range of the group. Bearden’s mind calculated odds, realizing that he would have to risk the other group knowing their location. There was no way to take down the three without a single shot being fired from them, nor from the attackers. If he waited any longer, he would lose what advantage he had over their pursuers. He turned, motioned for Janys to take the left. She nodded, then held her breath as the Sargent slid to the hallway.

  Bearden fired the first shot, piercing the skull of the man in the hallway. The man’s eyes were opened wide as a second shot fired, with Janys sending a bullet through the chest of the man to her left. The man fired as his body fell back, the shot crashing into the beam in front of the duo. Bearden stepped out and waited for the other man to cross the series of beams between the hall and the room. The flicking debris informed him that the man was retreating. Bearden turned to the hall, his gun aimed to the right side when a shot was fired, the burst of light coming from his left.

  Janys stepped out of the room, entering the hallway, motioning for the Sargent to head towards the stairs. Sounds of running footsteps crossing the elevator urged them forward as they trekked the long hallway, then through the door to the stairwell in the far left corner. Janys had just passed through the doorway when a bullet smashed the center of the door, lodging itself into the wall behind it.

  They stomped down to the next floor. Bearden shoved the door open to exit the stairwell, but grabbed Janys by the arm and led her down the next flight of stairs. Footsteps overhead smashed down on the stairs. A smaller, more agile suit saw the door closing. He skipped the last three steps, slid across the slick floor of the landing, and flung the door open. Two more suits closed in. The last was short, but heavy, fallen back several paces from his quicker comrades. The door was almost shut when his chunky fingers reached out for the handle.

  Bearden took advantage of the group’s separation, racing up the stairs, grabbing the matted hair of the fat man’s head and smashed his face into the corner of the door. The man fell to the floor in a heap, his gun smacking the floor, echoing down the stairwell. Janys closed in behind as Bearden threw the door open, catching the second man still searching the hall of the next floor. He fired two shots, hitting the man in the spine and the neck. The man fell, his body still trying to turn to the sound of the first shot as his legs collapsed beneath him. Bearden ducked down and waited for the smaller man to return. The untrained guard raced around the corner, both hands in front of him as his mind sought a target. By the time his eyes focused on the large form kneeling in the doorway, Bearden had already squeezed the trigger and dropped the small man onto the floor.

  The duo salvaged what they could from the bodies, pulling unused clips for their pistols and a set of key cards from the small man. They followed the hall, choosing to take the stairwell opposite of the one they’d used as a trap. Bearden smashed the door open, his gun aimed up the stairs as Janys covered the other landing. The duo moved on, taking the next flight of stairs.

  They stopped at the next floor, number eighteen. Bearden swore as the room was closer to being finished than the other two floors above, realizing that the next floor or the one after would have cameras hooked up to a monitoring station.

  “Oh that’s a bitch,” he muttered.

  3 CHAPTER THREE

  Tana had excused herself, leaving Agent Calloway and Commander Dayne alone in his office. The two men made small talk for several minutes, but business started to lift its ugly head, demanding for their attention.

  “I assume you wish to talk to the prisoners?” Bastiian offered.

  “That’d be smart,” Nathan replied.

  Bastiian nodded and led him from the office. They continued down the long hallway of light stone walls, passing several men in gray armor. Each man stood to the wall and gave a deep bow to the Commander as he passed. Nathan wasn’t sure if his back could have withstood a lifetime of such gesturing. They passed several rooms, then reached a tunnel that led to the next floor. Nathan had expected stairs, but he didn’t object as his legs were cramped from too much sitting.

  “You were disappointed when you met me,” Bastiian started.

  Nathan’s mouth fell open in protest, but he couldn’t find the proper words to counter the Commander’s suggestion. He closed his mouth, still searching for something to say as the Commander closed his eyes and nodded.

  “I assure you, I am not insulted,” he continued. “My armor is far more famous than my body, perhaps even my name. The armory is on the way to the prison. I will gladly show you.”

  Nathan nodded as the tunnel leveled out. They passed several large openings, each with rows of glass chambers. Most were empty, but a few held the gray armor that Nathan had seen the newer recruits wearing. The next chamber had one blue armor, with seven empty glass shelving un
its. They reached the next room on the left. The Commander pressed his thumb to a tiny pad on the wall, forcing the door to open.

  The heavy wooden door pushed open from its frame. Bastiian shoved it the remainder of its journey, leading Nathan into the single chamber. There, in the middle of the room, stood the gold and white armor of the Commander. It was perched on a glass shelf system, divided by the size of the armor it contained. The helmet was on the top shelf, its gold trim basking in the spotlights of the room. The chest piece rested in the middle, the center unhinged, waiting for its wearer to need it. Gantlets rested in narrow shelves to each side, two golden boots on the floor, and two sets of leg cover in the middle.

  They circled around the glass unit, allowing for Nathan to see the remarkable set from every angle. The light glistened off the gold trim, the white seemed to absorb it. On the back of the unit, a cape was hung, cloth made of fine golden silk. His eyes went up, catching sight of the tail of hair that laid from the top of the helmet, flowing down the back to the base. On the wall next to the glass unit rested an enormous shield, colored the same as the armor, and with fine etchings around the trim. They appeared to be the same symbols he’d seen outside, leaving him to guess what language they were written in. Finally, a holster held a golden pistol, larger than any single-handed weapon Calloway had ever seen. A spotlight rained down upon it, the gold shining in its wake.

  “How long does it take to put it all on?” Nathan asked, resisting the urge to touch the golden gun.

  “That depends on the call,” Bastiian laughed. “For a ceremony, it doesn’t take long enough. For an emergency, far longer than I care for.”

  Nathan joined in the laugh, picturing the man having to wear the heavy armor every time there was a new market being opened in the city, or some dignitary receiving a new title.

  “Is it heavy?”

  “It is, but I’ve trained since I was a boy to wear it, so I’m quite used to it by now. In fact, I feel rather naked without it sometimes, like leaving your arm in your bed each morning.”