The Street Survivors (The Guild Wars Book 12)

by Ian J. Malone

  “Just shoot her and be done with it,” Taylor said.

  “No can do, Chief. This one’s personal.” Jack’s next words were low and quiet, as if spoken to someone else. “This one’s for you, old buddy.”

  The other KzSha had been killed, and the rest of the Human CASPers approached to make a ring of sorts around the ongoing battle.

  Taylor nodded. Whatever happened, the queen wasn’t getting away. Damn right.

  Jack had reach on the queen, but the KzSha was faster and had two blades—plus two other hands she could use to grab him—to Jack’s single blade and extra hand. The queen danced around, slicing and withdrawing, and Jack was shortly bleeding or damaged in a number of places. A hit to his left leg had his mech limping as something in the linkage had been damaged.

  “Just shoot her!” Taylor repeated.

  “Too easy,” Jack said.

  Taylor gnawed his lip. He means to make her feel this.

  The fight continued for another 30 seconds, though it seemed an eternity to Taylor. Jack still hadn’t gotten a good hit in, but now his right arm—the one without a blade—hung limply at his side.

  The queen danced forward, blocking with one blade while striking with the other. She also kept trying to grab Jack’s suit. If she could get behind him and hold on while she stabbed him, it would be all over.

  Fair fight be damned. I’ll kill her myself if it comes to that.

  Jack swung at the queen, who danced back, but Jack had overextended himself. As the blade went past her, she stepped back in, looking to grab his broken right arm. She got one hand on it and drew back to stab Jack, but his right hand lashed out—he’d been faking!—, grabbed her by the neck, and yanked her close to him—too close for her to use her blades. She struggled and pushed away from him, but the mech was stronger.

  The end of Jack’s blade pressed against her thorax, glinting in the sunlight. “I’ll bet a fiddle of gold against your soul, ‘cause I think I’m better than you.”

  The KzSha leader struggled to push herself far enough away that she could use her blades.

  “Burn in hell, you murderous bitch!”

  A gush of blue sprayed the ceramacrete as Jack’s blade plunged through the queen’s body, its tip exiting through the small of her thorax.

  “Rest in peace, my friend.” Jack held the queen aloft as she let out her final exhale, then lowered his blade and allowed her corpse to slide quietly off.

  “Nice moves there, old-timer,” Taylor said, walking over. “Are you all right?”

  The cowboy scooped up Stan’s fedora and tucked it into a panel for safekeeping. “Not quite yet, Chief, but I will be…in time.” For the first time in what felt like ages, Taylor could hear a smile in his voice.

  “There he is!” House shouted.

  Taylor turned to find Akoya rounding the corner of a building alongside two KzSha guards. The Sumatozou spun and started running, leaving the KzSha behind.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Jack blasted off on his jumpjets. After a second, Taylor hit his, then the rest of the group took off in pursuit.

  Akoya only made it about half a block before Jack slammed down in front of him, blocking his progress, with Taylor close behind.

  “Looks like it’s Two-for-Tuesday.” Jack snapped out his arm blade and reared back to strike. “Lucky me.”

  “Wait!” Taylor shouted.

  The cowboy’s blade froze in mid-air as the Sumatozou threw up his hands.

  “Please!” Akoya begged. “Please don’t kill me! You need me!”

  “Don’t do it, Jack,” Taylor repeated.

  “Why not?” the cowboy demanded. “The queen may have taken Stan’s life, but this fat shit gave the order. In my book, that makes him just as guilty, if not more so!”

  “I get it, and you’re right,” Taylor said. “That doesn’t change the fact that we need him alive. We have to find out what he knows.”

  “Yes, yes,” Akoya rushed out. “Chief Van Zant is right. There are forces at work none of you can possibly imagine! You need to hear what I have to say!”

  Jack snarled a curse.

  “Tell me about these forces of yours,” Taylor said to the alien. “Who are they and what do they want?”

  “I promise I will tell you everything!” Akoya pled. “First, though, I need your assurances that I won’t be harmed.”

  Jack was practically foaming at the mouth. “Gimme the word, Chief. Gimme the word, and I’ll end this traitor once and for all before he hurts anybody else.”

  Everything in Taylor wanted to let his friend do it, if for no other reason than to get justice for Stan, Ubeloff, and every other innocent being who’d been swept up in Akoya’s quest for revenge. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it. The fact was, the last time Taylor had heard such talk from a Sumatozou, he’d learned that one singular race—the Vergola—had secretly seized control of the entire Cartography Guild in the aftermath of the Great War. They had to play this right, or Taylor’s gut said they’d all pay the price down the line for their lack of temperance in the moment.

  “Jedidiah Stan was hands-down the smartest merc I ever knew,” Taylor said with a small smile. “I’ll tell ya right now, that old coot was always thinkin’, always runnin’ the numbers. Seriously, no detail escaped him.” Taylor laughed. “Hell, come to think of it, I reckon that’s why I never beat him at chess.”

  The cowboy shook his head. “What are you drivin’ at, Chief?”

  “Something way bigger than us, or even those red diamonds, is at play here,” Taylor said. “I say we take a lesson from Stan and catch our breath here before we do anything rash. Maybe then, after we’ve gotten some perspective, we can figure out what exactly it is we’re involved in here.”

  “Yes,” Akoya urged. “Listen to your CO!”

  The cowboy aimed another snarl at the elephant.

  “Look at the timeline, Jack,” Taylor said before the other could strike. “Our stay on Droxis may’ve felt like an eternity, but the truth is, we’ve only been down here a week. That’s nowhere near enough time for Genovese to transition off world for help, then get back here in time to save our hides from being gutted by the wasps. Run the math, brother. It don’t add up. None of this does.”

  Jack barked a curse, then sighed. Pissed as the cowboy was—and rightfully so—even he couldn’t deny the logic of Taylor’s theory.

  “Somebody else deployed the spiders,” Taylor said. “Not only that, they knew where and when to send them in order to bail our skins out of the fire. And what’s the one stipulation their mercs gave us when they arrived on scene?”

  “That come hell or high water, Akoya Vello was going back with them,” Jack grumbled.

  “Damn right.” Taylor pointed back to the fallen Sumatozou. “All roads lead back to him, Jack. No matter how you slice it, that’s a fact. That’s also why you can’t kill him. Not today.”

  It took the cowboy a minute, but eventually he found the will to lower the arm blade he held at Akoya’s throat.

  “Thank you, Chief Van Zant.” Akoya panted. “Truly, you are a credit to your—”

  Thwack!

  Taylor brushed off the butt of his carbine, then lowered the rifle to his side as a motionless Akoya laid sprawled out on the ground, unconscious.

  “Are you sure you didn’t shatter his jaw with that shot?” Genovese asked, walking over with the Flatar leader.

  “No.” Taylor shrugged. “But I figure they got nanites for that, so whatever. He’s alive. That’s all that matters.”

  Genovese shook his head and grinned. “The last of the KzSha are on the run. I do have some bad news, though.”

  “What’s that?” Taylor asked.

  “The kambersite mine,” Genovese said. “Apparently, before our fat friend here made a run for it, he had his stinger-happy minions blow the place. Some of the slaves made it out, but all the shafts have been completely obliterated. There’s nothing left.”

  “Damn.” Jack grimaced. “Talk
about flushin’ somebody’s fortune down the crapper.”

  Amen to that.

  The Flatar stepped forward. “On behalf of my crew, I thank you for your assistance in apprehending our target. I will summon my people to come collect the Sumatozou, and we will be on our way.”

  “Ya know, I been puttin’ some thought into that,” Taylor said. “I think you should leave the Sumatozou where he is and head back out the way you came in.”

  The little alien gave an audible huff of amusement. “And why would I do that?”

  “Because it’d be way more profitable.” Taylor grinned.

  That got the Flatar’s attention.

  “Commander Bowyer?” Taylor called. “Would you be so kind as to escort Captain Genovese out of earshot so the colonel and I can have a private discussion?”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Genovese blurted.

  “You heard me,” Taylor said. “Take a hike. Beat it. Scram, or whatever you New Yorkers like to say in lieu of ‘get the hell out.’”

  Genovese answered with a flat smirk. “So we’re back to that now, are we?”

  “If the Yankees cap fits,” Taylor quipped.

  The River Hawks’ captain opened his mouth for another protest but was cut off when Jack’s CASPer came nose to nose with his own.

  “If I were you, son, I’d give serious consideration to doin’ exactly as the man says,” the cowboy growled. “Now get to steppin.”

  Taylor waited for the pair to leave before addressing his fellow merc commander. “You said when you arrived that the terms of your contract required you to return Akoya to your client, dead or alive. Correct?”

  “That is correct,” the spider said.

  “Am I to assume, then, that so long as you produce adequate proof of the former condition, you’ll still get paid full rate?” Taylor asked.

  “That is also correct,” the spider said.

  “Good.” Taylor shifted his stance. “Inform your client that Akoya Vello was caught in the crossfire during our battle with the KzSha and subsequently killed in a cave-in. Sadly, you were unable to retrieve his body from the ruble.”

  The Flatar motioned with its head toward Akoya. “But he did not die in the battle. That is him there.”

  “No, it’s not,” Taylor said casually. “That’s one of Akoya’s Sumatozou slaves. He had a lot of them down here. My people can take you to the final resting place of the real Akoya, at which time you’re more than welcome to take all the pictures your client requires.”

  The Flatar narrowed his gaze at Taylor. “Why would I agree to this?”

  “Swamp Eagle Security has something of an arrangement with the Cartography Guild,” Taylor said. “Long story short, we helped them out of a jam a while back, and in exchange, they don’t charge us stargate fees…ever.”

  The Flatar’s expression turned sideways. “Why does that matter to me?”

  “Because that deal also applies to any other merc companies we subcontract with for additional support,” Taylor said.

  The Flatar’s eyes widened.

  “Tell me, Colonel,” Taylor said, “how do you feel about rent-free stargate travel for the next six months?”

  The colonel made a clicking sound with his teeth as he considered Taylor’s proposal. “My client will need more than pictures for proof of the Sumatozou’s demise. They will expect DNA.”

  Taylor’s arm blade made an audible shing as it deployed beside Akoya’s right ear. “I think we can work something out.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 25: Curtain Call

  Once the last of their business on Droxis was concluded, Taylor and the Eagles boarded their drop ships, alongside what remained of the River Hawk Defense Group, and returned to the Ryley Osyrys in orbit. The transition home promised to be a long one, both due to the travel time and all the new mouths to feed on account of the dozens of refugees aboard. The rest of the slaves were either taken off world by the Tortantulas, courtesy of their first subcontractor deal with the Eagles, or left behind on Droxis with shelter and enough supplies to get them by until ships could be dispatched to take them home.

  On the upshot, a week’s worth of downtime in hyperspace gave Taylor plenty of time to think, though not before he took the longest, most amazing shower of his life. After that came the longest, most amazing night of sleep in Taylor’s life, followed by a full pot of coffee the next morning in preparation for the next major task on his itinerary—the interrogation of one Michael Genovese.

  “Remember all those nice things I said before about Southern hospitality?” Genovese jingled his restraints across the interrogation room table. “I take back every damn one of them.”

  As it turned out, Genovese had been telling the truth about his exodus from New York. His father, Al, had gone to prison on charges of conspiring to murder a public official. Meanwhile, the rest of his family was effectively drummed out of Queens at gunpoint by the remaining factions in the New York mob. This included Genovese, his mother Sally, and his kid sister Carola, who’d just started her freshman year of high school when Al had been indicted.

  It was also around this time that the Genovese family had received an entirely different type of bad news, in addition to the trial. Carola had been diagnosed with a rare bone disease that was gonna cost a fortune to treat. Problem was, all of the Genoveses’ assets had been frozen by the district attorney’s office as part of the investigation.

  Enter Paul Torrio with a lifeline call from Jacksonville.

  “That job with the River Hawks literally saved our lives,” Genovese said. “It got me back up on my feet with a fresh income, it put a roof over our heads, and it got Carola the meds she needed to stay healthy.”

  In time, however, the girl’s disease progressed, rendering her current treatment plan almost useless.

  “We needed something stronger,” Genovese recalled. “Something more aggressive. It was around then that Paulie got wind of the Vuhov contract and started makin’ calls. About a week later, I was approached by a Buma over in Cocktail Junction. Don’t ask me how, but he knew about Carola’s condition. He said he represented someone who could ensure she got the best care possible if I’d give them intel on whatever we found on Emza.” Genovese bowed his head. “I swear to you, Taylor. All I wanted was for my kid sister to live a normal life like the rest of us. I had no idea what was coming down the pike. Nobody did.”

  According to Genovese, the River Hawks touched down on Emza expecting to face between two and three hundred aggressors, per the estimates laid out in the Vuhov contract proposal. When the KzSha’s numbers proved far superior to that, the group was forced to improvise.

  “That’s when everything went to pot,” Genovese said. “I was tasked with leading a convoy from the east valley, where we’d established a rally point to the main line in order to help resupply our forces out front. It was on that trip that the KzSha ambushed our caravan and took me hostage.”

  “And that’s when you met Akoya?” Taylor asked.

  “Yeah,” Genovese said. “The fat, arrogant prick was waiting with a guard force nearby when the KzSha grabbed me. He’d seen that the Vuhov had hired a human merc outfit, and he had questions, mainly about you. FYI, I didn’t find out about any of the Rukoria stuff until later.”

  Taylor nodded. “What happened next?”

  “By this point, the River Hawks had been almost completely overrun,” Genovese continued. “We were toast. That’s when Akoya pitched me his deal: if I’d bring you to Droxis, he’d pull back the reins on the KzSha while we evacuated what remained of our forces from the planet’s surface.”

  “What about Paulie and the others who’d already been culled?” Taylor asked.

  “They were to be taken back to Droxis and used for slave labor in the mines,” Genovese said. “I tried to barter for their lives, too, but I had no leverage. What Akoya did promise, however, was he’d reward me with a fat payday if I brought you to Droxis.”

  Taylor frowned. “And y
ou saw fit to take that deal?”

  “Honestly, man, I would’ve signed off on just about anything at that point if it got me the hell out of there, so don’t take it personal,” Genovese said. “You gotta understand, I had two things on my mind in that moment—the safety of my people on the ground and getting home to my family alive to make sure my sister was cared for. So I let the wasps shoot me up, and away we went.”

  “And that’s when you called me,” Taylor said.

  “Yeah, but not before the Buma who’d paid me for Emza intel came to see me in the hospital,” Genovese grumbled. “He said if I didn’t take you to Droxis, his employer would pull the plug on Carola’s new treatments. I literally had no choice but to agree.”

  “Did you ever find out who the Buma worked for?” Taylor asked.

  “Nope,” Genovese said. “The bird was super cagey about it, too. What he did say was if I played along and took you to Droxis, his employer would send help, not just for me, but for Paulie and everybody else the KzSha had taken. All I had to do was get you to Akoya, then hop a ride over to Newtep in the same system to meet his reinforcements, before circling back for you guys.”

  Taylor drummed his fingers on the table. “If you knew Droxis was the destination, why’d we go on that wild goose chase to Piquaw?”

  Genovese smirked. “What was I supposed to do? Magically pull Paulie’s whereabouts out of my ass? You and Stan would’ve sniffed me out in a hot minute. Besides, I knew the Dutya would point us in the right direction. I just hoped we wouldn’t burn up too much time in the process.” The captain lifted his restraints. “So now that I’ve spilled my guts about everything but my cup size, can we do something about the jewelry or what?”

  * * *

  Taylor left the Osyrys’ brig feeling like he’d gotten more questions than answers. On one hand, he knew now why Genovese had done what he did, and, while Taylor wasn’t personally a fan of being used as a pawn, he understood now that the Hawks’ captain wasn’t the proverbial king of this particular chess game. That honor belonged to someone else, someone with a lot more influence.