“What happened?”
“I don't know. She could be in danger. I'm going to go and take a look.”
“Logan, it's a trap.”
“Probably. But I still need to put some more of the pieces together, and that's one of the biggest ones right there.”
“Nicely shaped, at that. I'll come with you.”
“No. Not yet. Look – call that girlfriend of yours, have her come out here and sit in the ship.”
Boris looked disdainful of that prospect. “Passing over me leaving patrol headquarters completely unmanned, do you really think she'll be a credible deterrent?”
“All she has to do is fire the jets if someone tries to break in. You can show her how. We're a bit low on manpower.”
“So I see. I'm scared to ask what comes next.”
The two were heading to the airlock, Logan was reloading his gun while he talked.
“When she gets here, come after me. I'll leave my pad on so you can track me.”
“So you think it is a trap, are setting yourself up as the bait, and making me the cavalry running to the rescue.” He smiled.
“Something like that.”
Logan was through the airlock, and Boris shook his head as he closed it. Logan head the locks sealing, tight. Transport was the next problem, but the technicians' truck would solve that. They were too busy hanging around the mail ship, inspecting for damage from the firefight, to see him climb in. By the time he had cracked the security, one of them had noticed and was running his way, but he left them in his wake.
Anna hadn't been on the line anything like long enough for him to track where she was, which only reinforced all of Logan's suspicions. Still, he had a lead, even if it did mean putting his head in a noose. As he overflew town, he saw one of the patrol cars heading out to the spaceport, so at least Melissa was following instructions.
Within a few minutes he had left the town behind, and was ascending the mountain. There – a shape on the landscape. The ubiquitous car, making another appearance. Logan pulled out one of his pistols and began the landing sequence, coming out just in front of it. He quickly checked his pad – still on, still transmitting, and by now the cavalry was probably on the way.
He cracked the door, and carefully stepped out. Carefully, but not too carefully. Better to spring a trap as quickly as possible. The click of a rifle being cocked and pointed at him was an apt illustration of how well the trap had been played; the kid stood up from behind a rock, weapon pointed square at his chest.
“Drop them. Both of them. Then take your jacket off.” He gestured with his gun.
“You're learning, kid, I'll give you that.” Logan did as instructed, dropping his weapons into the dirt. His jacket slid off; he briefly contemplated throwing it at him, but the range made it uncertain.
“I don't like you much. You've embarrassed me far too many times.”
“Kid, the feeling is decidedly mutual. Let's get this over with.”
The kid sneered, looking down his nose at him. “This is going to take as long as I want it to. Maybe I want to see you crawl.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Or maybe your boss wants his package. He told me someone would get in touch; I had assumed a phone call or a tap on the shoulder.”
“What makes you think I'm not here on my own accord?”
Logan laughed. The rifle was shaking. “Just out of academic curiosity, where is Anna?”
“I don't know. You are what I care about.”
“Fine. Good. So – what do you want. If you want to kill me, then get it over with. If you want something else, then you need to tell me what it is.”
There was a dot in the sky, growing rapidly closer. Boris would know to be as careful as he could, but he couldn't be that stealthy and still get to him in time.
“We're going for a drive, old man.” He put a real sneer on the 'old man'. “You're going to give me that package you got. Then I'm going to kill you.”
Logan shook his head. “That's not how it works. You aren't giving me any incentive to help you. You need to be at least holding out the potential for me to come out of this with my skin intact. Whether I die here or back in my ship doesn't actually matter to me that much.”
The kid smiled, showing his teeth. “You are assuming I care at all about that damn package. All I actually care about is killing you.”
Logan threw himself to the ground and rolled towards his gun, as fast as he could. A round cracked in the desert behind him, then in front of him. He lay on the ground, still – annoyed that his last thoughts would be that he had managed to misread the situation. Then he heard a siren go off – Boris!
Gambling that the kid would be distracted for a second, he rolled, grabbed the gun, and without looking, fired off a shot. He heard a scream.
He pulled himself to his feet, and looked over; the kid was down on the ground, a bullet in his head. Clean wound. He looked surprised – so was Logan. Damn it, he couldn't have been more than eighteen. Boris landed the patrol car next to him, turned the siren off.
“Did you find out what you wanted?” Boris was looking down at the body.
“Kid had gone rogue.” Logan gathered up his other gun, pulled his jacket back on. “Whatever his orders were, he wasn't following them.”
“And no sign of Anna, of course?”
“Of course not. I'm rather glad; if she'd been here, it would almost certainly have been with a gun in her hand, pointed at me.”
Boris gave him a quick look. “And you couldn't have shot her?”
“I might have hesitated that split-second too long.”
Logan climbed into the patrol car, took the controls. Boris scrambled in after him.
“Where are we going?”
“Hartman & Morris. I have a hunch, and I need your uniform, this car, and probably my gun to see if it pays out. You'd better tell the technicians where their truck is.”
Boris laughed. “Those lazy bastards won't go to get it. I had to tell them it had been commandeered on patrol business. One of the guys can pick it up later.”
The car lifted into the sky, headed down towards town. Periodically Logan looked out of the window, just in case Anna was down there, heading towards town. Hartman & Morris was on the fringes of town, next to the bank – an unprepossessing two-story, faded sign on the window advertising long-expired special offers. He brought the patrol car down outside, turned the engine off.
“After you. We need to find out who the hell owned that ship.”
They clambered out of the car, stood on the pavement; Logan and Boris pushed open the doors in uniform, surprising the hell out of the young woman at the counter.
“What is this?” she whined.
Logan held back the snappy comment. Boris looked at him, then back at the woman.
“Patrol business. We're investigating the destruction of the Even Odds.”
“I'll get the manager.” She turned and flounced into the back office; they could hear raised voices, and then a tired-looking man wearing a rumpled shirt emerged.
“Can I help you?” he asked, impatiently.
Boris stepped forwards. “We spoke on the phone. On the matter of the ownership of the Even Odds.”
He shook his head. “I'm sorry, but as I have already told you, I cannot provide you with that information. If you can obtain a court order, I might be able to help you.”
Boris looked at Logan. Logan nodded. Boris pulled out his pistol.
“Sir, you are under arrest for hindering a patrol investigation. You have no obligation to provide any information at this time, anything you do say can be used in subsequent legal action. You have the right to legal representation which will be provided by this office.”
The man exploded. “You can't do this! I have rights! I will contact the Governor immediately; he will have your job by s
undown!”
Logan patted Boris on the shoulder. He actually looked somewhat dangerous. Then he approached the man.
“Look, we just need a little unofficial co-operation. No-one needs to know. Just give me two minutes at the computer, and all of this will go away.”
“I can have your friend's head on a platter,” he snarled.
“Yes you can. Tomorrow. But tonight you will be in the cells, and who knows what could happen. Be reasonable. For your own sake.”
That got him. Rage was becoming fear. Sweat was building up on his forehead.
“Miss Davies. I need to see you in my office.”
The woman stood up, and gratefully walked into the back office. He gave a filthy look to Boris, then looked back at Logan.
“This changes nothing. I still intend to file a protest.”
“That is your right as a citizen. I certainly would not wish to argue. I thank you.”
The man walked back into the room, and closed the door behind him. Logan stepped behind the counter and began entering information. Boris walked up, and grabbed Logan's wrist.
“This deal of yours had better be good. At the very least I'm going to need some money to throw at the Governor.”
“Trust me, it's worth it.” Logan smiled. “Ha. Look at that.”
The screen held a familiar name: Artur Kohut.
“Your friend, the attempted hijacker.”
“All of this is beginning to make sense now. Damn it, Helena really had worked herself in deep.”
“It doesn't make any sense to me. What is this picture, anyway?”
“Short version – Helena stole it. Artur, Anna and another guy called Maxim want it. And they are willing to go to any means to get hold of it.”
“So the ship?”
“I'd have figured it was Artur who caused the destruction of the Even Odds; if it was his ship, he wouldn't. He'd know it wasn't on board.”
“Insurance write-off?”
Logan shook his head. “He'd know that it would get tied up if there was the slightest sniff that we were on to him.”
“So this Maxim, then. He Syndicate?”
“I don't know. I doubt it, he doesn't seem to have the muscle. I think we're dealing with three independents. He's got friends, though.”
The pair clambered into the car. Logan punched for take-off.
“We'd better see how Melissa's getting on at the ship.”
“By all means.” The car lifted, and Boris continued, “So, it was Maxim?”
“He had the goons, certainly. And he wouldn't have cared what happened to the ship – indeed, he'd want it covered up.”
“And you think he killed Helena, and that navigator?”
“Probably. He had the means and the motive. That kid was the one I saw running away from the scene of the crime, right enough.”
“Do you want me to arrest him?” Boris looked somewhat concerned at the prospect.
Logan laughed. “You'd never find him. Slippery worm, that one. Besides, all you've got is my so-so testimony. We'd need a lot more to go on.”
Boris sighed. “I thought it was too good to be true. I'd probably just have got myself shot anyway.”
The ground flew by underneath them, purple sands once again rolling. They passed the technicians walking back to town; Logan could swear one of them was waving his fist up at the car. As he approached the ship, he saw a familiar figure outside the main airlock. Boris' pad went off, and Logan could hear Melissa shouting something at him. Boris turned his head.
“Logan...”
“I know. Anna's standing outside the airlock.”
Chapter 9
Anna was pounding on the airlock door as the car landed. She was still wearing the same dress as before, now matted in purple dust; her hair was a mess of tangles, and her makeup had run with tears. She turned when she saw Logan, and ran into his arms, breaking out into sobs.
“They were terrible! They were going to kill me!” she cried, burrowing her head into his shoulder.
Logan turned to Boris. “Have Melissa let us in.”
Boris nodded, and the airlock door opened. Logan guided Anna into the lounge, sat down with her on a chair. Melissa pouted at her, crossing her hands with impatience, while Boris poured some drinks.
“What happened, darling?” Logan asked, with as much softness as he could muster.
“While you were talking to that man, one of them came at me from behind. That man from my hotel room, the one I...shot. He stuffed something in my mouth and I passed out.” The sentences tumbled out, and she stopped to take a sip of her drink – yet more of the ubiquitous vodka.
Logan gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Then what happened?”
“I woke up in a grotty little shack. The same man was there – and that kid from before. They said that they wanted the painting, and that they would kill me for it. The kid went mad, he went on about how he was going to kill you, darling.”
“You don't need to worry about that, at least. I shot him not half an hour ago.”
She turned to look at him. Logan focused on her eyes, on her body language, but she didn't betray anything. “Thank god.”
“How did you get away?”
“They left me in the room for ages, hands tied, on the ground. I managed to get out of them, they weren't as tight as they should have been.” Logan ran his fingers down her wrists; there were marks where they had obviously been bound.
“When I had got the binding off, I looked around, but there was no-one about. All of my things were piled up in my bag, so I ran. “
She drank down the rest of the drink. Boris poured her another. Melissa seemed to be starting to melt a little; she sat down on Anna's other side.
“I heard a gunshot when you called me.”
“The shack was by an old mine. I started to run down the road back to town, and then I saw the kid. He was chasing after me, took a shot. I managed to get away.”
“I doubt he was actually after you. You were the bait to get to me. It almost worked, as well.”
She looked at him and started to cry again. “I'm sorry, Logan.”
He held her again. “Don't be. I'm still alive, Boris is still alive, the kid is dead, and the painting is in my safe.”
She looked at up at him, a little too quickly. “You've got it?”
“I've got it.”
“Then we can get out of here! We can leave!” Excitement was creeping into her voice.
“We wouldn't get two systems away before someone caught up with us. We'd certainly never sell it.”
Anna looked down, dejected; Melissa looked confused.
Logan held Anna's chin in his hand.
“Anna – it's time for some more truth. You've been doling it out in small doses, but I think I'm ready for a bigger dose now.”
“Logan, I've told you everything.
“Maxim Orlov.”
She looked up, shocked, drinking the second glass down in one. Boris nodded impressively at the level of consumption.
“He's here?”
“Since you are so reluctant, let me fill in some of the gaps for you. Orlov has known about the picture for years. Longer than he admitted to me when we met. You were assigned to Helena to keep an eye on her, make sure that she didn't stray with the money. Correct?”
Anna looked down at Logan's knee. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Yes.”
“I thought at first that you were working with him, that Helena had ditched you to lose your...supervision. Pleasant as I'm sure that must have been, Helena was always a...free spirit.”
“That wasn't what happened at all!” she exclaimed.
“No, I figured that out pretty quickly. You both got greedy, and decided to cut and run. Get the painting, and then run off for pastures new with
as much money as you could make for it. How am I doing?”
“Pretty well.” Anna was looking sullen now. Not an attractive look at all.
“Then she dumped you on Caledonia, and ran off by herself. You remembered that she had mentioned me, so figuring that I might be where she was going, you headed my way. Am I there?”
“That's right.” The tears were gone. Only sadness remained.
“You hired me to protect you, if you remember. Then I raised that to a cut of the take. Do you remember that?”
“Yes.”
“I've done that. And for the present, I'm going to keep doing that...but you can dismiss any ideas you might have of getting hold of the painting and running away.”
She started indignantly, “I wouldn't have!”
“Only because you can't think of a way. Boris, I need you to do something for me.”
Boris rolled his eyes. “When did you become my boss, exactly?”
“Eight years ago, as I recall. During a firefight on New Nukoro.”
“General Potter isn't here now.” He grunted. “What do you want me to do?”
“Put out an all-points alert for Anna. Wanted for some sort of serious charge unconnected to anything with this affair.”
Boris looked puzzled, Anna shrieked.
“Don't worry, I'm not going to turn you in. This serves two purposes. First of all – it ought to convince Maxim that you aren't working with me. Second – it means that you are stuck with either me or Boris. I don't want you running off.”
“Logan, I wouldn't. I thought...I hoped...”
“You can carry on hoping for a while longer, darling. Right now we have business to conduct, and that has to take precedence if I'm going to come out of this with my hide intact. Afterwards...well, we'll see what happens afterwards.”
Melissa looked down at the gathering. “What about me in all of this? You bastard Boris, I knew when you hired me that you were hiring a mistress, but you damn well aren't paying me enough to get shot for!”
She stormed for the airlock door. Boris called out after her, “I doubt you'd get ten feet, my dear. I'm very much afraid that you are stuck with me in this little cabal.”
Battlecruiser Alamo: Tales from the Vault Page 6
