Battlecruiser Alamo: Tales from the Vault

by Richard Tongue

   Anna looked at Melissa with new-found respect. Melissa shrugged her shoulders. “I'm not much of a pickpocket.”

   Logan led the quartet into the lounge, and turned on the trackers. Four locations appeared on the screen; one of them obviously Viktor's living quarters. One was a spaceport terminal, and the other two seemed to be rapidly converging on O'Malley's.

   “This is going to take a while. The computer can monitor it for the next few hours and give us the highlights. Let's order in some dinner.”

   Despite Logan's sensible suggestion, all of them spent most of the next couple of hours looking up at the screen, watching the dots move around the station. Three of them were pretty settled; the toolkit presumably having a relaxing time in Viktor's quarters. Another dot remained in O'Malley's, the third stayed in one of the ship terminals. The fourth was on walkabout, wandering around several levels of the station. That was the one attracting most of the attention.

   Boris was the first to break. “It's obvious which one we need to be paying attention to. That's the boyfriend.”

   Logan shook his head. “He'd probably be running errands of one kind or another, so it isn't conclusive.”

   Anna chimed in. “All the more reason to go and take a look.”

   Logan stood up, sighing. “Let's keep all of the bases covered. Melissa, go work overtime and keep an eye on Viktor. If nothing else at least someone round here needs to start bringing in money faster than we're spending it. Boris, you'd better go for a wander on the concourse and keep an eye on my friend.”

   Anna had already stood up and was on her way to the door. Logan stopped by a locker and pulled out a rather battered camera.

   “I think we might need some good footage. Worst comes to worst I'll sell our film to the security people.”

   The boyfriend had settled near the concourse, in a gantry close to the one where the failed snatch had taken place the night before. The corridors were getting quiet now; everyone was either in their quarters or in a bar. Anna and Logan made they way along with as much nonchalance as they could muster.

   The gantry was closed off, and a security guard standing by the entrance made it clear that the unauthorized entry restrictions were going to be enforced this time. Obviously they weren't taking any chances this time. The other end was similarly protected.

   “That's blown that. No way we're going to be able to get in.” Anna frowned. “That camera of yours any good through walls?”

   “Not with enough resolution to be more than a couple of blurry figures. No point giving up, though.” Logan punched a button on his datapad, and the face of Boris appeared.

   “Logan? You get what you were looking for?”

   “Not yet. Keep an eye on that monitor. Let me know the instant the target moves, and where he moves to.”

   Logan turned back to Anna. “We might not be able to get shots of him meeting with someone, but we can certainly get some good shots of him going past the security.”

   It was not a short wait. Half an hour passed, making it harder and harder for the pair to ward off suspicion, though they'd managed to convince the guard quite convincingly that they were having a salacious liaison. Finally...

   “He's on the move, heading your way.”

   Arms linked, Logan and Anna began to slowly move away from the gantry into cover. The boyfriend walked out of the gantry, a concerned look on his face, followed a couple of minutes later by a senior security guard, strolling out of the gantry as if nothing had happened. Logan had it all on film, and quickly reviewed the footage to make sure it was clear.

   “Melissa, who's at the bar?”

   A whispered voice came back. “Valeria's about to give another speech. Viktor's here as well. No sign of the boyfriend.”

   Logan put the datapad back in his pocket, looked at Anna, and began to run for the elevator. “We won't have a better time than this. Come on!”

   The elevator sped up the levels, but still Logan paced back and forth in frustration. Finally it reached the level of O'Riordan's, and the pair ran down the corridor towards the bar. Unsurprisingly, a pair of guards were standing watch outside.

   The pair stopped short behind a corner, Anna sneaking a look around. The two guards were well-built, unfamiliar, and had rather menacing pistols hanging in their holsters. Boris picked that moment to call.

   “Logan! Boyfriend's on the move. Heading your way.”

   Anna looked at Logan, who shook his head.

   “That rules out any chance of a subtle entrance.”

   “We rush them?”

   “Unless you can think of a better idea.”

   Anna took the first step around the corridor; she and Logan walked up towards the guards, who bristled when they saw them.

   “You've been told to stay out. No-one wants you here.” An obviously well-practiced menacing voice.

   Logan looked at Anna, took a deep breath, and drew both his pistols. Anna was about as quick to the draw.

   “Look, friends, there's no point wasting any time arguing with you. So you're just going to let me in. Right now.”

   They looked at each other, surprised. Their own guns hung loosely at their belts.

   “Put down your guns.”

   “No. Tell you what – you can warn everyone inside that I'm coming in. Give them a chance to prepare a proper welcome.”

   The door burst open, and a dozen pistols and rifles were pointing at Logan. With a wry smile, he tossed his guns down to the floor, shaking his head.

   “We had ample time to prepare a welcome for you,” Valeria said.

   Logan dropped his arms to his side. “Before you just riddle the two of us with holes and leave us for the rats, listen to what I have to say. Better still – let me show you a little film I shot earlier.”

   He felt a gun poking him in the back, and turned to see the boyfriend standing behind him. Logan smiled, and nodded his head towards him.

   “Your friend here's the star.”

   The guns wavered slightly, just for a brief moment. Logan pulled out his camera, extracted the data crystal, and tossed it to Valeria.

   “Keep your guns on me and play it. If I'm stalling, I won't live long enough to regret it, yes? If I'm not, you've got a traitor in your midst.”

   The boyfriend was sweating. His gun jammed tighter in Logan's back.

   “Let's just deal with him now and get it over with.”

   Logan looked coolly at Valeria. “What have you got to lose? A few minutes?”

   Valeria put the data crystal into a slot, and the monitor burst into life. It showed quite clearly her boyfriend stepping out of the gantry, the image of guilt, followed by an unconcerned security guard. The gun remained solidly pointed at Logan's back; he had the distinct impression that his status had changed from unwanted guest to human shield.

   “Is this a fake?”

   “No fake. I filmed it not ten minutes ago. You can check his movements; I planted a tracer on him myself this afternoon.”

   The gun clicked, and a scared voice said from behind Logan. “I will kill this man. Stand back. I'm getting out of here.”

   Valeria snorted. “Kill him. I don't care. You aren't getting out of here alive.”

   Anna threw herself at Logan's assailant, knocking him sideways, allowing Logan to tumble on the floor and retrieve his spare pistol from his pocket. Two shots rang out at the same time; the boyfriend dropped to the ground, a hole in his head spilling blood onto the floor. Anna knelt down by Logan's side.

   “Are you alright?”

   “Yes. Well timed – thanks. Gave me enough time to aim that right.”

   She looked at him, shocked. “You meant to kill him?”

   Logan nodded. “Cleanly, with one shot. A lot faster than he'd have got if I'd left him alive.” Logan rose to his feet, winded, supported by Anna.

   “Perhaps now you beli
eve me?” he asked Valeria.

   She walked over to the dead body, regarded it coldly, then turned to face him. “Perhaps I might consider it. I think another meeting is called for. We have to dispose of this...carcass. I will contact you in the morning and let you know a new meeting point.”

   Logan shook his head. “Not this time. I'll contact you through Viktor, let you know where I want to meet. After this, I trust my security a lot better than I trust yours.”

   Valeria turned to look at Viktor with suspicion, he looked at Logan, looked back, and shrugged.

   “I suppose that is reasonable enough. I will come armed. And I will not come alone.”

   “Very well. Until tomorrow morning.”

   Valeria and her associates began to drag the body back into the bar, and locked the door behind them. Logan started to stagger back down to the elevator.

   “Are you sure you're all right?” Anna asked.

   “That trick of mine with the third pistol has its advantages. It also has its disadvantages. When I went down, I landed on the butt. Hurts like hell.”

   “Beats being dead.” Anna looked down at the stain on the floor.

  Chapter 8

   The night passed far too quickly; Logan slept fitfully, and not for the obvious reason. He finally gave up attempting to sleep, and left Anna asleep in his bed while he paced around the ship. Something about the whole situation was simply not adding up to him. He began to look through old newsposts and discussion groups on the local computer network; it was easy enough to find the anarchists' online hang-outs.

   Two years ago, Valeria had appeared on the scene; it hadn't taken long for her to start attracting more and more attention. From a standing start her influence had grown rapidly, her viewpoints adapting – not so much because of changing ideological beliefs, but more adapting other people's viewpoints. He shook his head, before turning around at the sound of a noise on the deck.

   “If you are going to pace around like that, we really ought to get the corridors carpeted,” Boris said. “What are you looking at?”

   “Old discussions, the anarchists' groups. She's just another damn politician, Boris. That's all. Just one more person saying what the people want to hear.”

   “Did you ever really think anything different?”

   “No. Not really. But this mission's brought back a lot of old memories. And not happy ones.”

   “You have to let go of the past. This isn't the Alliance, and this is not the War. Just a child falling back on the patterns and habits of her early days. I doubt she even consciously knows that she is doing it.”

   “I'm not so sure. I don't know what is going on here, Boris, but something about this just doesn't seem to add up.” Logan shook his head, started to walk down the corridor with Boris in tow.

   “What are you going to do about it?”

   “Continue as planned. There's not much else we can do.”

   “I suppose I should be heartened to know that there is a plan.”

   Logan laughed. “It's not much of a plan. All it boils down to is find a way to get paid by someone for this. If we can grab her, we grab her. If we can sell her the data, we'll do that. I'm just going to play this one by ear.”

   Boris frowned. “All your plans seem to boil down to that eventually.”

   “Go back to bed. It's going to be a long day.”

   Four hours later, Logan and Anna were back in the bar, waiting impatiently to keep their appointment. Melissa was serving drinks at the bar, and Boris was sitting in the corner nursing a double vodka. Logan looked at his watch, impatiently.

   “How do they expect to win a revolution if they can't keep a simple appointment?”

   Anna chuckled. “It's psychological.”

   “It's annoying. Here they come now.”

   Valeria walked in, flanked by a pair of dangerous-looking bodyguards. Logan's eyes darted about the room, trying to work out who was paying more attention than they should; he made at least four people around the room who were probably on watch. Anna had been a bit sharper; she tapped a finger on the back of his hand six times. Valeria slid into a chair opposite Logan, her guards standing at parade rest beside her.

   “Mr. Winter.”

   Logan threw away a smile. “Miss Clarke.”

   That was met with a frosty stare. “If you call me Logan, I'll call you Val.” Logan said, the smile spreading.

   Her face cracked into a soft laugh. “Fair enough. So my father sent you here to rescue me from the evil terrorists.” She glanced up at her two companions. “But you find me not in need of rescuing.”

   “You're the one who brought me here. A message sent to your father demanding some information in exchange for you. I suppose you figured that you could simply bribe or kill whoever he sent, and get the information that way.”

   “Something along those lines.”

   “You've already seen that I don't die that easily. I'm still open to the first of the two options.”

   “I couldn't convince you to join our cause? That would be the third option, you know.”

   “I've already fought my war. I have no wish to fight another one.”

   Valeria looked at him, straight in the face, staring past Anna. “Our cause is a good one, Logan. The people are being oppressed by a tyranny that must be defeated. You must see that.”

   Logan shook his head. “All causes are good ones. All fights worth fighting for. But somehow all the words and speeches in the victory celebrations can't bring the dead back to life.”

   “That's a very one-sided view of things.”

   “Don't get me wrong, I wish you nothing but the best of luck in your noble cause.” Logan's voice dripped with sarcasm. “As to mine: your father offered me a total of fifty thousand kopeks. He paid me an advance of ten; I'll give you the information you want for the balance of the pay. Forty thousand, cash on delivery.”

   He could see her making the mental calculations, caught her glimpsing around the room, weighing up whether she could take him after all. Logan shook his head at her deliberations.

   “You'd probably get me and my friend, but we'd take at least two, possibly more of your people down first. Is it worth it?”

   “I won't pay cash on delivery. How do I know that the data is genuine? It could be fake, corrupted, anything. Contaminated with some sort of virus, even.”

   Logan managed – just – to keep his face straight at that last comment. “It's on a one-use disk. Presumably you can set up to copy it.”

   Valeria looked at her companions, one of them muttered something into her ear, then went over to the bar and started entering something into the computer.

   “We can download it here, into the bar's entertainment matrix. Later on we can copy it – after it has been properly checked. You can take your kopeks with you after we've taken a look at it.”

   Logan shook his head. “Or shoot me. I want better than that.”

   “I will stack the money on the table. You can even count it.”

   Logan looked at Anna. She nodded her head, almost imperceptibly.

   “I suppose that's about as good a deal as I'm likely to get. Agreed.”

   One of the bodyguards passed a large envelope to Valeria, who spilled its contents onto the table. Logan quickly counted it out into four piles of ten thousand. He was briefly tempted to try and palm a few notes, but one of the guards was watching him like a hawk. Not worth the risk. In response to the money, Logan pulled the data crystal out of his pocket, exposing the butt of his right pistol, and dropped it onto the table.

   One the guards brought out a portable reader, and connected it up. He knew his stuff; it was a decent bit of kit, but not that expensive. Inside, Logan was crossing his fingers that the malware would be good enough to escape detection. He looked around the room, as if measuring his exits, and quickly caught Boris' eye; he nodded in response.
>
   The guard was typing furiously into a keypad, nodding every few seconds as the data passed another security check. Finally he nodded again at Valeria, and began to dump the information. The monitors on the far side of the room went dark, and then lit up with a series of schematics, databases, fields of information; the anarchists' attention was on the screens, and Logan began to move towards the money. Then a shrill burst of noise sent his – and everyone else's – hands to their ears, rising and rising until it passed beyond the range of human hearing.

   The screens had gone dark again, then lit up with a flashing series of geometric shapes and colors, flicking through a sequence. One of the guards began to reach for his gun; Logan beat him to the draw, but not by anything like enough.

   “Look at Valeria!” Anna yelled.

   Her eyes had glazed over; she was holding a glass in her hand, half-way to her mouth; the glass tipped over, and the contents spilled out onto the floor. Then the glass dropped, shattering into a thousand pieces. Valeria followed it, collapsing limp and lifeless to the ground.

   That set off the room. Five more guns came out of holsters, moving to cover Logan and Anna; Anna tipped the table over, sending drinks and money flying to the ground and providing some cover. A flood of patrons scurried from the room. Deciding that the game was obviously up, Boris had drawn his gun and had created his own makeshift sanctum.

   “This is stupid!” Logan yelled. “I didn't know what was on the damn crystal. Is someone going to see what the matter with her is?”

   Melissa stepped out from behind the bar, and gingerly stepped through the forest of pistols to the still form of Valeria. She quickly took her pulse, strong and steady, and her breathing was regular.

   “She's just fainted. Maybe there was something in the drink?”

   Logan inwardly cringed. It was an obvious thought, but that made Melissa a possible suspect. A pair of wavering guns suggested that he wasn't the only one to consider this angle.

   The images were still playing across the screen, and now shrill noises were playing once again, far less painful than last time. It sounded almost like someone chanting in a barely audible monotone; there was some sort of meaning there, somewhere.