by Gary Jonas
He sat at his desk and called his operations command. It was time to check on the progress of the apprehension of the courier. They had followed up on the information from Kendrick, and he hoped that this would tie up loose ends related to Casey, perhaps even give him what he needed to shut up that fool Randol.
When Maxwell saw the pale frightened face of his Raken security commander, Gerard, he knew it was bad news. “Tell me what happened. I want details.”
The man stuttered through the story.
Maxwell groaned.
“Our patrols are searching for her, sir. I’m certain we’ll get her back.”
“Listen here, Gerard, I want that courier caught, but more than that, I want that datastore back intact.”
“We’re working on it, sir.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I want you to do a full deconstructive mind probe on Chandler. He has to have valuable information.”
“Sir, I regret to tell you that we no longer have Mr. Chandler in custody. His release was ordered by Lord Randol. We had no choice.”
Maxwell smiled. “Really? Well then, of course I understand, Gerard. We serve at the pleasure of the lords. I’m sure there was a very good reason.”
This was wonderful. Better than Maxwell could have hoped for. His nemesis on the council was falling into his hands.
“Gerard, I want you and the rest of Green and Blue Teams out looking for the girl. I don’t care how long it takes. Call in all the assistance you need. Use all measures necessary. And that imbecile, what was his name? The sole survivor of Red Team?”
“Uh, that would be Larson, sir. Ray Larson.”
“He’s fired. Tell him to be on the first shuttle offplanet or we’ll arrest him for trespassing on corporate property.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Who is the lead interrogator on Raken?”
“Sergeant Cox,” Gerald said.
“Have him contact me immediately. I have a job for him.” Maxwell cut the connection.
He walked across his office and poured himself a cup of coffee from the refreshment station. He returned to his desk, sat down, and took a sip of the strong, hot brew as he sorted his thoughts.
Randol’s undying devotion to Casey was sickening. He’d added an outside element to the equation, a private security agent who provided enough interference for the courier to escape. A foolish mistake traceable to him. Just the sort of thing that Maxwell had hoped for.
Maxwell keyed a request for Mike Chandler’s dossier into the computer. A moment later, a holo materialized over his desktop. Words hung in the air beside the image of Chandler’s license.
Michael Chandler: Parents were industrial workers. Chandler ran away from home to join the Confed and served ten years in Marine Special Forces. Twice decorated. Promoted and demoted numerous times, usually due to insubordination. One incident with a colonel’s wife. Entered civilian life as a personal security expert.
Maxwell then pulled up Chandler’s financial records.
“Here we go,” he said.
The only asset Chandler possessed was equity in an aging Scout-class ship. Habitually behind on payments. Yes, there were possibilities here.
Perhaps this Chandler would listen to reason. The old man obviously wouldn’t. Perhaps an unpleasant experience with Nebulaco Security coupled with enough financial incentive could turn Chandler into a true asset.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sai followed the signs toward dock D, berth twenty-seven, where Chandler’s ship was waiting.
As she approached the last turn, she stopped and took a right into an alleyway. She moved behind a building that housed a closed gift shop. She didn’t want to walk into a potential trap.
The alleyway was dark, and the rain had caused puddles of collected filth to pool in the chuckholes. She quietly moved around the back of the building to the next alleyway, which opened onto the entrance of berth twenty-seven.
Hiding behind a large crate, she withdrew her whisperblade and activated the remote. She threw the blade high, up and out of the alleyway, guiding it into a graceful curve into the street and past the gateway to berth twenty-seven. She watched the display on the com unit on her wrist, which transmitted video from the camera on the whisperblade. She guided the unit forward, keeping it high enough to avoid easy detection.
Corporate Security had arrived before her. She saw six men hiding behind the entrance. Three on either side. Three were armed with blasters but didn’t seem particularly alert. One stood smoking a stimstick, and another was taking a leak against the wall.
Still, she didn’t want to fight six armed men. She would have to abandon the idea of making the drop. Even if she could navigate past the security goons, she didn’t know whose side this Chandler guy was on. He sounded genuine, but he might have sold out to Nebulaco. He might be working with them to create these traps and maybe that so-called arrest was completely bogus. It didn’t matter; she needed to get out. It was time to go to the Silver Dollar Saloon and hire Hank Jensen to take her offworld.
She commanded the whisperblade to return.
“Don’t move,” a voice said quietly behind her.
She froze. In the corner of her eye she could see movement as a dark figure circled around her.
“So you thought you could get away from me?”
“I thought I was doing a pretty good job.”
The man laughed. “Stand up and put your hands on your head, and don’t move one little muscle because I would hate to have to kill a fine young thing like you.”
She did as she was told.
“I’m Sergeant Cox. Security Director Maxwell sent me here personally to find you. I’m not like those idiots who work for me. I left them over there exposed, but I decided to keep at the edge of the perimeter. I figured you were too smart to barge in on our trap, but just stupid enough to at least try to contact Chandler once he was released.”
“What do you want?”
“No games. I want the package you were supposed to deliver to Chandler.”
“Who’s Chandler?”
“Don’t insult me! I’m not a moron. Chandler can get away with it because he’s the favorite of a lord, but you are nothing but dirt! I want that package!”
“What if I don’t have it?”
“In that case, you and I are going to have a lot of fun. I am very, very good at interrogation. Luckily, we have a lot of leeway at Nebulaco. Since what’s good for the company is good for everyone, we can do what we want to people who try to hurt the company. I like interrogation. Who knows? Maybe you’ll like it, too.”
Sai saw the whisperblade behind Cox. She guided the whisperblade toward him.
“Maybe I will,” she said in a husky whisper. “Are you going to spank me if I’m bad?”
Cox grinned. “You’re very naughty, aren’t you?”
At that moment the whisperblade came flashing down. He dodged to the right and the blade missed him, but it slashed through his blaster.
Sai rushed forward and kicked Cox in the crotch. Then she followed up with a combination to the gut and nose. Cox’s head snapped back with the power of the blow and he fell back, unconscious.
Sai spat on his fallen form and gave him a gratuitous kick in the ribs.
She went through his pockets, took what few credits he had, and checked his ID. It matched his story. He was Sergeant Luther Cox, Nebulaco Security.
She activated the whisperblade again and used it to cut his pants off. Not that she was vicious. After all, she didn’t cut off his dick. She’d just taken enough shit for one night and it was nice to give some back.
Retreating down the alleyway, Sai headed toward the Silver Dollar Saloon. It was back to plan B.
Helen heard a voice in the darkness. “You’re lucky you were recognized.”
She opened her eyes and saw the speaker. He sat on a stool just outside the bars of the brig with his feet up on a table. He wore dirty clothes a
nd scuffed combat armor. “The pulse rifle was on stun.”
Helen’s head hurt like hell. She lay on a bare metal bunk in a small cell. She still barely had control of her extremities from the aftereffects of the blast. Her nerve endings burned and tingled. It was as if she were being slowly electrocuted.
“You’re going to be a bit twitchy for a while, but no permanent damage. We want you nice and healthy for Daddy.”
“Where are we?” Helen asked.
“Not on your pretty little ship, for sure. We’re on Thorne’s ship, the Naglfar. We’re headed to the base, where you’re going to have a nice little cell there of your very own. I’m sure that Daddy wants you back pretty badly, so we figure on getting some good coin for that perky little ass of yours.”
“My father isn’t as weak as you might think. He’s not one of those delicate cowards on the council. He’s going to take this out in blood.”
The pirate laughed. “Well, you’d better hope he plays nice. He can get you in one piece, or one piece at a time. We know how to do this, sweet thing. The price keeps going up, not down. He’s a businessman. I’m sure he’ll make the wise choice.”
When Sai walked into the Silver Dollar, Hank was standing in the middle of a group of six men. He had a tankard full of dark beer that he was waving wildly as he spoke. “—and then we were struck from behind by a torpedo.”
“Hank!” Sai called.
He stopped his story and turned his head in her direction, squinting. “Sai? Issat you?”
“Yes, Hank. I need to speak to you.”
Hank turned to his fellows. “Pardon me, boys, but the lady needs me.” He winked, then turned and staggered toward her.
“Oh shit, you’re drunk!”
“You have a knack for stating the obvious, my lovely little blade-wielding wench,” Hank said. “Heh, I guess I ain’t that drunk after all. I just said a mouthful there, didn’t I?”
“Hank. I really need to get offplanet quickly. Come on. There were some problems.”
“Problems? Well, honey, we all got problems, but it gets better. Take me for example. Yesterday I was flat broke, and today I got the sweetest deal I ever saw on Denebian pantor melts—I mean mantor pelts. You know—furs. I just gotta wait until tomorrow night to take possession and I can triple my money anywhere in the Greensward. The guy was desperate for credits.”
“Hank. There are some people after me. I need to get away. I’ll pay twice what I paid before.”
His smile faded when he focused on her face, seeing that she had been injured. “What happened to you?”
“Long story,” she said.
“Sure, sure. I can help you out. We can blast out of here tomorrow night.”
“We need to leave today. Now.”
“Sorry, no can do, honey. I finally made a decent score. I have to see this deal through.”
Sai looked around the room. She wasn’t too impressed with the options. “Do you have anyone you’d recommend?”
Hank closed one eye, squinted with the other, and staggered in a circle to look around the room. “Nope, all worthless bums who’d rob you the first chance they got.”
There were some laughs around the room.
“Come on, be serious.”
A man standing at the bar turned in her direction. “Ah, lass, he is serious, ya see. We are pretty much that a-way when it comes down to it. Just business, o’ course.”
Hank laughed, but he quieted when he caught the look in Sai’s eyes. “Come here, let’s sit down a moment in a more private place. Maybe we can figure something out.”
They moved to a quiet table in the back.
“What happened?” he asked.
“My delivery went bad. It happens sometimes.” She looked over her shoulder, then leaned close. “I can pay you well, very well. Drunk as you are, I would still rather not take a chance on someone else if at all possible. Can you pilot like this?”
Hank stiffened. “Of course! I’m even better when I’ve got a bit of lubrication. Besides, to tell you the truth, Elsa does most of the work on the takeoffs and landings. But I can’t leave any earlier than tomorrow night.”
“But I have to leave now.”
“Darlin’, can’t you just lay low for a bit? Maybe hide on board? But do not, I repeat, do not clean up my stateroom again. I can’t find anything now.”
“Things are too hot right now.”
“Corporate?” he asked.
“Yes. I think there’s a corporate hit team looking for me.”
Hank nodded, appearing to sober somewhat. “You’re in a fine state, then. There’s many that would agree to take you just to turn you in. It won’t take long for the company to send out a bounty notice to the docks.”
“Then you understand my problem.”
Hank grumbled. “Yes, I understand it. But damn it! I can’t leave early. I just can’t. I appreciate you taking the chance on me darlin’, I needed the break. But I’d be pissing it away if I let this deal fall through. This shipment will put me in the black for a good, long time if I don’t do something stupid. This is also a matter of survival. I don’t want to end up sleeping in some starport gutter. Besides, we just got here. I have to refit the ship and refuel. That takes time.”
Sai nodded. “I understand. I’ll find someone else.”
As she got up to leave, Hank stood. “Sai, I said you can hide out on the Elsa. Even Nebulaco Corporate Security doesn’t have the balls to order a ship-by-ship search of the entire port. The trading guilds would have a conniption fit.”
Sai shook her head. “Don’t feel bad, Hank. I know what I have to do. I appreciate the offer, but I have to go.”
“But, Sai …”
She knew he was right. He couldn’t risk his future just to help out some damned fool girl. If nothing else, Elsa would never let him hear the end of it.
Sai stood to leave, and as she turned, she saw three men entering the bar armed with pulse pistols.
“Sai Collins, you’re under arrest!” the lead man shouted.
“Women,” Hank said. “Nothing but trouble.”
Sai made it to his side just as Hank drew his pistol from his shoulder holster and took aim at the lead man. He fired and the man tumbled to the floor in a heap. The other two tripped over him.
Hank grabbed Sai’s hand and together they fled toward the back door. “You really pissed them off,” Hank said.
Sai burst through the door into the alley behind the bar as a large, well-muscled man swooped down on a hovercycle. Hank pulled her out of the way. The man stepped off the bike. He wore black leathers with the insignia of some biker club emblazoned on his back. “Sorry about the close call,” he said. “I didn’t see you.”
“Nice bike,” Hank said, and then stomped on the man’s foot. The polite biker howled in pain. Hank leaped on the cycle. Sai climbed on behind him and they took off. “Sorry,” Hank called back.
Below, they saw the men who had been chasing Sai exit the bar. The men pointed upward, and one of them took a wild shot that sailed harmlessly to one side.
Hank turned the cycle toward the starport, skimming along just above rooftops. The wind whipped his hair as buildings whizzed past below them in soft blurs. “Do you think they have friends waiting at the dock?”
Sai shrugged. “At this point, nothing would surprise me.”
Hank activated his comlink. “Elsa!”
“Yes, Hank.”
“You haven’t noticed any unusual activity, have you? Strangers hanging around for no good reason?”
“As a matter of fact, there are five men with entirely too much time on their hands. They’ve been cruising the launch pads for the last few hours.”
“Great. Change of plan. Do an emergency dustoff and meet me north of town.” Hank closed the link.
Sai saw something flash out of the corner of her eye. She looked back over her shoulder. A black sedan pulled up behind them, cruising at the same altitude. It came up on their tail fast. “Hank, they�
��re behind us.”
Hank looked back at the rapidly closing vehicle. He cursed under his breath. “Hold on,” he said.
Hank leaned the bike over and took a sharp right, much too sharp for the sedan to duplicate, but although it lost some ground, the vehicle managed to adjust its course and began to close again.
Traffic up ahead forced Hank to slow down. The sedan took advantage and raced forward to bridge the gap. It seemed intent on ramming the cycle. Sai tensed. At least earlier in the cab she’d had a modicum of protection.
“Are you squeamish?” Hank asked.
“Why?”
“Because if you are, you’d best cover your eyes.”
Just as the sedan moved in for a strike to Hank’s rear wheel, Hank slammed on the cycle’s brakes and dove straight down, allowing the sedan to pass over them. He swerved around and headed north at the fastest speed the bike could muster.
They raced past the residential district into the business district before the sedan caught up with them again. This time it didn’t try to ram them. Instead, it shot up beside them. The side windows buzzed open and gun barrels poked out. “Hank! They’re gonna shoot us down!”
The passengers in the sedan opened fire. Blasts shot past all around them. One of the shots hit low, toward the back of the bike, and Hank struggled to keep it from spinning out. He took evasive action, cutting power and dropping in behind their attackers. He pulled up and matched their speed several meters above them.
“Grab my pistol!” Hank shouted.
She reached across and tugged the weapon from his shoulder holster. The men in the sedan leaned out the windows to try for a better shooting angle. Sai fired but the shot went astray. It was tough to shoot a pistol at a moving target while sailing through the sky on a hovercycle. Especially when Hank kept swerving to avoid blasts. Fortunately, their pursuers were having the same difficulty.
“This isn’t going to work!” Sai yelled.
“Sure it is,” Hank said. “Watch.”
“Get us out of here, damn it! They’re going to kill us on this thing,” Sai said.
“Not a chance,” Hank said, easing back.
