“Plan?” asked Sasha.
“No sense in you two staying here. Both you get back to the ship and get it ready to leave on a second’s notice. I’m going to go see if I can help Amelia and Alain with the gentleman upstairs.”
Sasha and Sam nodded and the group split up.
***
“I told you to wait for my all-clear,” said Amelia to Alain as he approached, her eyes on the sturdy-looking door leading to the command center.
“I got bored,” said Alain, looking over the scores of bodies that Amelia left in her wake. “Geez, they didn’t mess around when teaching you Geists how to kill people.”
“One of the few things I’m good at,” said Amelia as she attempted to figure out how to bypass the door.
“Why don’t you ju—”
Before he could finish, the clanging of Benkei’s boots against the dura steel floor cut Alain off.
“That’s some work, Am,” said Benkei, letting out an impressed whistle.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “But now we have to…”
With that, the door unlocked with a clank, followed by it sliding open.
“…open the door.”
The command center was a wide, low-ceilinged room that was just as dingy and unkempt as the rest of the station. There was a 3D display in the front of the room where a map of New York was projected in blue light, and a large window on the back wall that looked out into space beyond, the broken, silver shape of Luna still amidst the stretch of stars.
But in front of all of that was a group of five mercs, all pointing their weapons at the trio. Further back was Geff, dressed in another outfit of colorful, patterned silk, his eyes obscured by the small-lensed glasses, the striking, slender redhead that was at his side in Icarus with him once again, observing the group with a coy smile.
“I was wondering why my hired guns weren’t responding,” he said, his low voice calm and cool. “And now I know why.”
Amelia looked over the mercs, all wearing expressions of murder, each eager to avenge the rest of their ranks.
“Let them in,” said Geff.
The mercs lowered their guns and split apart, their grumbling signaling that they’d rather open fire and ask questions later.
“You’ve made a fine mess of my plans,” said Geff as the three of them entered the room. “But it doesn’t really matter. Despite the state that the reactor is in, I can get off one more shot from the Azani, and that’s all I need to cripple the New York fleet.”
“You’re a murderer,” said Alain, his words said in a hot spit.
“Murderer?” asked Gefff. “You are aware of how war works, correct? The Chicago Federation fleet command made a tactical call, and it worked out.”
“But we’re not in an open war,” Alain responded. “It was a goddamn sneak attack.”
Geff waved his hand. “No matter,” he said. “Once we’ve moved our forces into New York and annexed the city, how we did it exactly won’t be a concern.”
“You are aware what will happen once you fire that cannon, correct?” asked Benkei
“Yes. The Azani will be ruined.”
“Well, yes. ‘Ruined’ in the sense that it will be destroyed in the process of firing it.”
Geff leaned forward, his brow tightening. “You’re lying.”
“This thing’s fine to fire,” said one of the mercs, a reedy man standing near the fire controls. “They’re talking out of their asses.”
“Anything to get the advantage, I see,” said Geff. “Well, no sense in waiting. Open fire on fleet command.”
Amelia, Benkei, and Alain shared a look of concern as the merc at the controls slid his fingertips downward across the control panel, a number rising from zero to fifty.
But just as he gave the input to fire, Amelia slipped her pistol out of her holster, took aim, and cracked off a shot, hitting the merc near the top of the and sending him down to the ground in heap.
“Here we go,” said Benkei, pulling out the Madchen as the mercs withdrew their own weapons.
“Get down!” shouted Alain, jumping onto Amelia as the mercs opened fire, Benkei diving to the right and out of the way of the onslaught of plasma, lasers, and bullets.
The fire volley of shots flew harmlessly over Amelia and Alain, his dive bringing her down just in time. Benkei fired a blast from Madchen, sending the mercs flying through the room. On top of Amelia, Alain flashed her a sly smile that she reciprocated, their gazes held for a few seconds.
But, at the same time, they both recalled where they were and leaped from the ground, taking cover behind nearby support beams.
The mercs opened fire, and Amelia, spotting Geff making his way toward the firing panel, dove under the exchange of weapons-fire.
“If he gets that thing to a hundred, we’re done for!” shouted Benkei.
“On it!” responded Amelia.
But before she could get to Geff, the redhead at his side appeared in front of her with unbelievable speed. Reaching down, she grabbed Amelia by her hair and pulled her to her feet just before delivering a thudding punch to her stomach, the air spraying from Amelia’s lungs.
From her vantage point on the floor, Amelia watched as Benkei, Alain and the mercs exchanged fire, the mercs dropping one by one as the pair thinned out their ranks. The redhead was about to bring her foot down onto Amelia, who rolled out of the way at the last moment, the foot hitting the dura steel floor with a deafening metallic clang that sounded to Amelia’s ears like durasteel on durasteel.
Amelia responded by taking aim with her pistol and firing a round, which hit the redhead directly in the face. The redhead’s head whipped back, and when she turned her gaze forward to Amelia once again, a small, circular perforation from the gunshot was the only indication that she had been hit.
Amelia realized, to her horror, that this wasn’t just any female companion – she was a trained merc with dermal durasteel implants that were capable of withstanding heavy fire.
“Guys!” she shouted. “Could use some help here!”
“Uh, a little busy!” shouted Alain, blind firing at the mercs from behind his cover.
Amelia knew that she’d be no match for a merc with implants in hand-to-hand. As the redhead stepped toward her, she shot out her leg, catching the girl at the ankle, pain radiating through Amelia’s leg as soon as the kick struck. But the force was enough for the girl’s leg to buckle, bringing the redhead down to her knee sand giving Amelia time to scurry away.
She watched as Geff finished bringing the reactor power up to a hundred. There was no chance of the cannon not firing now. The redhead continued in Amelia’s direction at a slow, leisurely pace, as though toying with her. Amelia whipped the submachine gun from her back and opened up with it, the shots hitting the girl with a series of high-pitched pangs, barely causing her to stop in her tracks. When she reached Amelia, she crouched down and pulled the knife from Amelia’s sheath, looking it over for a brief moment before raising it above her head with both hands.
Amelia winced as the blade arced downwards. But before the knife could connect, the redhead was blown back by a massive charge of deep green plasma which sent her flying against the window behind them, her body smashed, her arms broken in several places.
Looking up, Amelia saw Benkei standing with Madchen in his hands, the bodies of the mercs strewn behind him. Then, her eyes turned to Alain, who was drawing a bead with his pistol. He cracked off a shot, and Amelia whipped around just in time to see the round connect with Geff, hitting him square in the chest and bringing him down in a heap.
The fight over, Amelia jumped to her feet and rushed over to Geff just as Alain arrived at her side.
“Too late,” Geff said. “I win.” Then his eyes went dark and his head lolled to the side as blood seeped from the gunshot, staining the expensive fabric of his clothes.
“How long we got?” demanded Amelia.
“Four minutes!” shouted Alain, his eyes fixed on the control panel.
Alain looked over the controls, scanning every piece of information on the display. “I’m gonna try something,” he said.
He then typed a series of numbers onto the panel before hitting “enter” and turning to face Amelia and Benkei.
“We have to go, now,” he said.
“What did you do?” asked Amelia, following after him, Benkei close behind.
But before he responded, she got her answer when the array began to turn, rotating in place, the cannon being aimed elsewhere.
“Hurry!” he shouted.
The three of them ran off the station as the place rotated, the floor becoming the ceiling as they made their way down the platforms that led to the command center, the bodies of the slain mercs sliding along the floor and walls. The array had made a half-rotation by the time they reached the ring-shaped room from which they entered.
“Sam, you better be ready to go now,” said Amelia as they three lined up to crawl through the maintenance tube that connected to the Meridian.
“Ready as soon as you get here, Am!” said Sam, her voice chipper.
They crawled through the tube as fast as they could. Benkei pulled the hatch shut on the Meridian once they were all on board.
“Now, Sam!” shouted Amelia.
“We got thirty seconds left,” said Alain as they group ran to the flight deck.
The ship lurched as the engine kicked in, and once they reached the flight deck, Amelia could see that Alain had successfully turned the array around, and the now-charging cannon was aimed at some point beyond Luna.
“I hope that thing’s not pointing at anything important,” said Sam.
But before anyone could say another word, the cannon shot off, a brilliant, white beam blasting from the array, firing somewhere, harmlessly into deep space. The array sustained the beam for several seconds, long enough to destroy whatever it had been pointing at, before a series of explosions ripped through the array, reducing one of the most advanced weapons in the Federation to nothing but another scattering of scrap in the space around Icarus.
Amelia turned to Alain and the two shared a small smile, the mission complete.
CHAPTER 28
The Meridian cruised into the atmosphere, back into New York airspace, and down into the skyline, the remains of the Basileus still smoldering, half-submerged in the Hudson River.
“There,” said Alain, pointing to the tower that was still standing thanks to them. “Empire Tower. They’ll be wanting to know what happened.”
Sam flew the ship into the dock and landed it, and as soon as they stepped off of the ship they were accosted by New Yorker guards, who took the crew and Alain by the upper-arms, encircled them, and led them out of the dock.
“Hey!” protested Alain. “We have important information about the cannon attack!”
“We know,” said one of the guards, a tall man in plated armor who appeared to be in charge.
The five of them were led through the stately halls of Capital Tower, arriving at a heavily guarded elevator decorated in ornate gold embellishments, the doors a faded shade of pearl.
“That’s—” said Alain.
“What? That’s what?” demanded Amelia.
“The presidential elevator,” he said as the doors slid open and the guards led the five into the luxurious interior.
“Is that good?” asked Sasha.
“Maybe he wants to say thanks!” said Sam.
But before they could consider the possibilities for too much longer, the doors slid open.
The presidential office was a massive room, elegantly decorated with a view that looked out north from Lower Manhattan over the span of the island, the city illuminated with its evening lights, with bright spotlights shining out from the canopy.
The guards formed up in front of the elevator doors, with the guard in charge leading them down the long, red rug that led to a man standing in front of the window, looking out onto the city.
“Is that them?” the man asked in a pleasant, resonant voice that seemed made for oration.
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Good.”
Once the group was brought in front of the stately, oak desk at the far end of the office, the man turned.
The president of the New York government struck Amelia as a rather generic-looking man. His hair was brown and neatly combed, with dustings of gray at his temples. His face was handsome, but not strikingly so, and his suit was tasteful and tailored to perfection.
“You’re the ones who destroyed the Azani?” he asked, his head tilted forward as he addressed the group.
“We are, Mr. President!” said Alain, his voice in a military stiffness. “Lieutenant Alain Rickert of the—”
The president held up a hand, making it clear that such formalities wouldn’t be necessary.
“You did good work. Lieutenant Rickert, you’ve been promoted to Captain. Once the Lincoln is finished, you’ll be placed in command. Until then, you’ll be posted at fleet command—shouldn’t be more than a month or two. And…?”
He looked at Amelia and the group, expecting whoever spoke for them to step forward.
“Amelia Durand. We’re with the Meridian.”
“Ah, yes. The Geist and the stealth ship. Thank you for working with us in getting this…situation resolved. We’re prepared to offer your crew positions in our navy—good pay, benefits, all that. Our price is the ship.”
“We’ll pass,” said Amelia.
“That’s what I thought, but I figured I’d ask. You’ll, of course, be compensated for your work.” He scanned the five of them one last time. “That will be all.”
Before any of them could speak a word, the president turned back toward the city, and the guards surrounded the group and led them down the way they came in. Within minutes, they were back in the hallway that led to the dock. Alain stopped as they made their way back to the ship, the group turning and facing him.
“Command of your own ship?” asked Amelia.
“Geez,” said Alain. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
A moment passed, the two of them not sure exactly what to say to one another.
“Well, it was good seeing you,” said Alain. “For what it’s worth, you’ve got a friend in the New York Navy.”
“Good seeing you, too,” said Amelia, turning to leave.
“Later, Doolittle,” said Alain.
“Later, ‘enry,” said Amelia over her shoulder with a wave, a pang of longing in her heart.
CHAPTER 29
“Ten thousand?” yelled Amelia, looking over the statement on her slate. “That’s it?”
“You’d think that saving them from having their heads of state killed and having their city taken over by a hostile neighboring state would be worth a little more than the price of a few fill-ups,” said Benkei, looking over her shoulder.
“Hey, that’s better than nothing, right?” asked Sam.
“Barely better than nothing,” said Amelia, tossing the slate onto the table and slumping into her seat. “That’ll cover the ammo we used for the whole operation, and maybe put enough fuel in the tank to get us somewhere that we can find a job that’ll be worth a damn.”
Right at that moment, Sasha entered from his lab elevator. Heading to the fridge, he pulled it open and took out a slice of Hawaiian pizza.
“Hey, I bought a few of these before we took off—no pizza like New York pizza, you know? So, if you want a slice…you can…”
He trailed off as he looked upon the stone-still, glowering faces of Amelia, Benkei, and Sam.
“Ah, gotcha. Not for everyone, I guess. Well…” he pulled a box out of the fridge and prepared to take the whole thing down to his lab. “Uh, offer’s on the table.”
And back down the elevator he went.
“So, what’s next, captain?” asked Benkei. “Or should I say, ‘Doolittle’?”
“Hey,” said Amelia, sticking out a finger. �
��Forget you heard that.”
Benkei raised his palms in mock-defeat.
“Oh, oh,” said Sam, bouncing in her seat, her red hair bobbing up and down. “Can we go to Mars? I haven’t been in so long.”
“No, I don’t want to…” said Amelia.
Then she reconsidered, thinking that a trip far away from Earth was exactly what she needed.
“You know what?” said Amelia. “Mars, it is. We can hit up Deimos Station, take a day or two off, figure it out from there.”
“Not concerned about our dire bank account situation?” asked Benkei.
“Well, yeah,” said Amelia. “But we’ll figure it out. After all, rushing into a desperate payday is what got us into this mess.”
“Very true,” said Benkei.
“Yay!” exclaimed Sam, clapping her hands together.
The course settled, the ship primed, and the crew ready, Sam put in the coordinates for Mars. A jump opened in front of them, a brilliant blue and white shimmer that washed over the ship, taking them to the Mars—the crown jewel of Sol.
There, thought Amelia, the Meridian beginning its jump, is where their fortune would be found.
THE END
Witch Academy Box Set (1-4)
Book 1: The Missing Queen
Chapter 1
Desmond awoke with a start, his body tensing up. It took him a moment to figure out exactly what the problem was, his magic finding its way up to his brain.
He realized after a moment that it was a crash from his kitchen that had woken him. However, the presence that he sensed was not anything that would cause him harm. His dishes and food supply might be in danger, but he was not.
Running a hand over his face, he tried to pull the sleep from his eyes, glancing at the time piece. He was planning to get up now anyway; the alarm would beep after a moment or two. It was later than he normally got up, but he didn't have anywhere to be for another hour.
“Nathaniel,” he said as the door to his chambers whooshed open at his touch. “What are you doing?”
Dangerous Data (The Meridian Crew Book 2) Page 13
