by G. P. Hudson
Jon had hurt the pilot. If lucky he killed him. But there was a second passenger. He might be able to gain control of the craft and resume the attack. Confirmation came when he saw the pilot’s body pushed out of the craft and fall to the ground below.
He had mere seconds now, and he had to reach Breeah and Anki. He bolted for the door and made it out just as a fresh salvo exploded behind him. The bullets ripped through the wall like it wasn’t there, spraying debris in all directions.
Jon turned and ran down the hallway, but the bullets didn’t follow. Maybe his attackers weren’t willing to fire on other apartments. Or, the hovercraft was repositioning itself. Anticipating their next move.
Jon turned a corner and saw Breeah and Anki. Breeah had taken off her lariat belt and whipped it around at a black clad attacker. That was why the guns didn’t follow him, they were afraid of hitting their men in the hallway. The man ducked and the weighted ball on the end of the rope belt just missed connecting with his head.
On the floor lay a second assailant, who had apparently underestimated Breeah’s skill. The man standing held a long blade in his hand. A gun lay at his feet. Breeah had managed to dispose of one attacker and disarm the second. She always found ways to impress him.
He almost wanted to just hang back and watch, confident in her abilities. But they weren’t safe yet. He ran toward her just as the attacker lunged, thrusting his blade at Breeah’s chest. She deftly sidestepped the strike and at the same time swung her lariat around striking the man in the temple with the heavy ball. The blow dropped him instantly.
She turned, still swinging the lariat, as Jon approached, almost striking him as well, but changed the ball’s direction once she recognized who it was.
“Easy. I’m one of the good guys,” said Jon.
“Sorry,” said Breeah, a wry smile forming on her lips, her eyes softening just slightly.
Jon reached down and grabbed the two energy weapons on the floor, tossing one to Breeah. She took the weapon and slung the lariat belt back around her waist. Even the simplest things could be deadly weapons in the right hands.
He looked back at the assailants. They were dressed in black military garb, but had no patches or insignias. Whoever was after them didn’t want to be identified.
“Who are they?” said Breeah.
“I don’t know,” said Jon.
“Are they raiders?”
“They don’t look like the raiders we encountered on the freighter. They could be mercenaries.”
“You think this Durril Tai hired them?”
“Maybe. I don’t think the Kemmar would use human mercenaries, but anything’s possible. Still, how would the Kemmar know we were here?”
“You could ask the same thing of the raiders. How would Durril Tai know about us already?”
“Good question. Someone is talking. We’ll have to worry about who that might be later. Right now, we have to get out of here.”
He reached down and picked up Anki. She put her arms around his neck and gripped his torso with her legs.
“How are you doing, kid?”
She smiled. “I’m okay. Did you see my mom fight?”
“I did.”
“Isn’t she amazing?”
“She sure is,” said Jon. “She’s my hero.”
“Mine too,” said Anki.
Breeah rolled her eyes and gestured to Jon to hurry up.
“It’s time to go now,” Jon said to Anki. “I want you to hold on tight, okay? No matter what happens you hold on to me.”
Anki’s face went serious and she nodded. “I know how to hold on.”
“Good.” Jon looked at Breeah and said, “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Let’s go.”
They moved cautiously down the hallway.
“We can’t take the elevators,” said Jon. “That attack craft might still be out there, and those glass elevators are too exposed. We have to take the stairs.”
They found the stairwell and headed down. The buildings on DLC station were extremely tall. The apartment was on the forty-fifth floor. A lot of stairs. Breeah was fit. In better shape than most people he knew. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too winded by the time they got to the bottom.
Unfortunately they wouldn’t find out right away. They descended several floors, heard a door swing open, and feet charging down the stairs from above. It sounded like five men altogether. They would have found the men Breeah disposed of. They would’ve seen that their weapons were missing and know that Jon and Breeah were armed. They would be more careful now.
Jon approached the door to the forty-second floor. He opened it and they ran into the hallway with Breeah close behind. He didn’t want to fight in the stairway. He feared the possibility that more men would appear from the floor below. He didn’t know how many there were, but knew that they were all on alert now. They had likely assumed that the attack craft would succeed in killing them. The rest of the men would have been intended to act as mop up, or back up. None of them would have dreamed that the attack craft would have failed. But now they knew different.
They rounded a corner just as the attackers entered the hallway. Jon swung his arm out from behind the wall and fired on the men, hitting one in the shoulder before they returned fire.
He had to get Breeah and Anki to safety. He could hold these men off while they escaped. “There should be another stairwell on the other side of the building,” said Jon. “Take Anki and head that way. I’ll catch up.”
“No, we fight together,” said Breeah, crouching down against the wall, swinging her weapon our and firing at their assailants.
“Can you not just listen to me for once?”
She pulled back behind the wall as a fresh round of energy bolts sailed by her. She looked up and fixed Jon with a threatening stare. “We fight together. We do not separate.”
Jon cursed. He knew she was right, but again, he was worried that they would get hurt. Anki wisely stayed well back. Jon motioned with his hand for her to crouch down. She did. At least she listened. Breeah resumed firing and he swung his arm around to join her in the attack. The tactic took out another attacker, and seemed to take them by surprise.
Breeah shook her head. “They are used to attacking helpless victims, not people who can actually fight back,” she said, disdain in her voice.
“Three left,” said Jon. “Now it’s more of a fair fight.”
“It’s still unfair,” said Breeah, letting loose another volley. “For them.”
Jon smiled and joined Breeah in firing back. He worried about her because he loved her, but he had to admit she was a hell of a fighter. He looked back to check on Anki. She was still crouched low and had a serious look on her face, but when she saw Jon looking at her she cocked her head and flashed him a smile. It was as if she was trying to reassure him. That kid was one tough cookie.
Their assailants had opened the door to the stairwell and were using it for cover. They fired haphazardly, with no real pattern. Jon and Breeah started taking turns, Jon firing, then Breeah. It was predictable. He knew the attackers would try to use it against them. Jon fired and made a mental note of an attacker’s exposed leg. He put a hand on Breeah’s shoulder telling her to wait.
Just as he expected, weapon fire came in low, anticipating that Breeah would jump out. Instead Jon fired again and picked off the exposed thigh. Ducking back behind the wall he heard the man screaming from the other end of the hallway, a fresh hole burned into his quads.
Jon yelled at the remaining men, “You hear that? Death is coming.” A little psychological warfare never hurt. But he wasn’t just playing head games. Death was coming for them. Right now.
He tapped Breeah again and she sprang out, firing on the last two. He surged forward and charged them. They had ducked behind the door to evade Breeah’s shots, but when they realized what was happening one came out trying to fire on Jon. Jon was faster. He picked the man off before he could shoot. The door closed as the last attacker jumped back
into the stairwell.
Breeah held her fire as Jon made it to the door. He stood back and opened it in case the man waited in ambush, but there were no shots. He entered and listened for footsteps. He heard them. The man ran down the stairs, trying to escape the reaper. It wasn’t going to happen. Jon raced down the stairway, clearing five steps at a time, closing on his prey. As he gained ground on his quarry, he was greeted by panicked firing. He could still hear the man’s footsteps and knew he was firing backwards blindly while running.
Jon looked over the railing and saw the man’s hand gripping the railing below. He swung his weapon over the railing and locked onto the hand. He fired. The man screamed. He heard him tumble, obviously losing his footing. Jon rushed forward, moving in for the kill, and found the man’s contorted body lying on a landing, already dead. The fall had broken his neck.
Above him he heard footsteps, and then Breeah’s voice, “Jon?”
“Down here.”
Breeah and Anki came down the stairs to Jon’s location.
“Are you alright?” said Breeah.
“Yeah. You?”
“Fine.”
He reached down and picked up Anki, who was looking at the dead man on the stairs.
“What happened to him?” said Anki.
“He tripped,” said Jon.
Anki shook her head. “He should have held the railing.”
Chapter 36
Twenty more flights of stairs and Breeah still felt pretty good. Her legs didn’t hurt. Her breathing wasn’t strained. Thankfully her stamina had returned. After getting shot on the Hermes, she wondered if her fitness level would come back once she recovered. Jon had assured her it would, and he was right. She had made a full recovery, and none too soon.
She had needed her reflexes when the first two men came at her. A lifetime of training ensured that her body reacted with precision, and deadly force. Those fools saw a mother and daughter. Victims. She had always been taught never to underestimate an opponent. Apparently those men never learned that lesson, and it cost them their lives. So many were like that. Never challenging themselves. Never pushing. Assuming their opponents would always be weaker. That wasn’t how she was brought up. Her father always taught her to fight from a position of weakness. Always assume your enemy is stronger, he used to say. Always assume you are outnumbered. What will you do? How will you survive?
Ahead of her Jon came to a stop and raised his hand. Looking back at her he pointed to his ear and then pointed down the stairs. More attackers. Jon had told her about his special abilities, but it still amazed her. She heard nothing but knew not to question his senses. Then there were his physical abilities. Speed. Strength. Endurance. He still held Anki, down all those flights of stairs, and didn’t have a bead of sweat to show for it.
Ahead of them was a door leading to the twenty-third floor. Jon pointed to it and they rushed through. They quietly moved down the hallway. She kept glancing back as they went, pointing her weapon behind her in fear that the enemy would come through the door and shoot them in the back. They rounded a corner. She pointed her weapon ahead. It was clear. They kept moving. She looked behind her. Still nobody. She was ready, but tense. Part of her wanted to be attacked. She wanted to face her enemy, not worry about phantoms and shadows.
Halfway through they came upon a walkway connecting their building to a neighboring one. An opportunity to escape? They hastened across the walkway. The glass surrounding them made her feel very exposed. They were suspended between two buildings, fully visible to anyone looking in their direction. She expected the attack craft to show up again and fire. She pointed her weapon up toward the sky. Swept it from side to side. She brought it down and panned left to right. Up and down. Nothing. She turned and aimed at her rear. Nobody came. She aimed up again, looking for the attack craft. It was nowhere to be found.
When she looked back to where their apartment was she saw several more wingless aircraft buzzing around it. Were they the authorities investigating the incident? Was that why the attacking craft left? Or were they the enemy too? Everything was unfamiliar. How could you tell friend from foe? The greatest enemy hides in the light of day, her father used to say. Did artificial daylight count?
They made it across the walkway without incident. Nobody followed. Jon slowed his pace a bit, turned back to her and said, “I think we can use the elevators now.”
“I did not see anything when we crossed,” said Breeah.
“Neither did I. Looks like the attack craft is gone.”
“What about the men on foot?”
“They could be anywhere, but I’m guessing they’re looking for us in that building.”
“What do we do now?”
“We need to find Captain Seiben,” said Jon. “If they know about us they probably know about his involvement in the mission.”
“So you do think this is the work of the raiders?”
“We can’t know for sure, but it’s the most logical explanation.”
“Well let’s find Captain Seiben.”
Captain Seiben was a nice man. A genuine man. You could count on him to be honest. She liked him and his family and hoped nothing happened to them.
They got onto the elevator and took it down. They both concealed the guns in their waistbands, under their shirts. The elevator stopped repeatedly, letting more people on with each stop. Before long the cabin was fairly crowded. She didn’t mind mixing with the crowd. It would help them hide. She just hoped none of the other passengers were the enemy.
Their adversaries were a mystery. Who were they? Why had they come? They could only guess. She could be staring straight at one and not know until it was too late. She hoped Jon would know. She counted on it.
They made it to the ground level without incident and joined the throngs of people on the sidewalk. She tried to act normal, but could not help looking around constantly. She tried to stay calm, but her nerves were quickly becoming unraveled. Her suspicion of those around her bordered on paranoia. She couldn’t help it. She did not want to be surprised.
But she was.
The crowd had pressed in around her making it difficult to keep a protective buffer between herself and others. A cold point pressed against her back. A knife.
Breeah didn’t know if it would be pushed in and didn’t want to find out. The second it touched her spine she spun. She timed it well. Even if the thrust came it would be partially deflected. It wouldn’t be a killing strike. But the man behind her didn’t thrust. He hesitated. Probably confident in taking her by surprise.
One of the first things she was taught growing up was to defang the snake. Your opponent has a weapon. Whether you have one or not you have to eliminate the threat. The snake’s fangs. In this case the knife. She fluidly did this with three moves, taking no more than a second to execute.
Her arm came around first and hit the attacker’s forearm, moving the knife away from her body. He still held the knife and would quickly come back at her with a slash, followed by a thrust. To avoid that her other hand followed and checked the man’s elbow, taking away his attack. Control the elbow and you control the arm. The third thing she did as she came around was hammer her heel into the man’s knee.
It takes just nine pounds of pressure to break a knee. The strike made the man buckle and instinctively reach for his leg. That split second loss of focus allowed her to strip the knife out of his hand. The man’s eyes widened with shock as his own blade came back at him. She swung it across the side of his neck, slashing the artery, and then thrust it back like a piston, driving the point into his throat.
One of the other things she was taught early on: always aim for the soft targets.
But most importantly, know your target. Choose a target and go after it. Commit. A focused, decisive attack is more likely to succeed and will often overwhelm your opponent. Even a stronger opponent.
She quickly became aware of the crowd around her. People were now screaming in horror at the man falling to t
he ground, blood squirting in the air from the severed artery in his neck. And her standing there, still gripping the blood soaked blade.
Jon grabbed her by the arm and yanked her away. “We have to go. Now!” he said.
They ran down the street, the frightened crowd parting for them as they went. Breeah threw away the knife. She still had the gun, and she didn’t think that carrying a bloody knife in her hand would help her cause.
Chapter 37
“But you just got home,” said Darla, Captain Seiben’s wife. “You’re not supposed to go out again for at least three weeks. It’s in your contract.”
“I know, but how can I refuse Mr. Jansen?” said Seiben. He understood her frustration, but he couldn’t tell her the truth.
“It’s not right. What about Alina and Otka? They’ve barely spent any time with you.”
“I won’t be gone as long this time.”
“There are other freighter captains. Jansen should pick one of them.”
“This freight is very valuable. That Mr. Jansen wants me to take this trip, rather than someone else, is a great honor. He is also paying me well for the trip. Three times my regular wages.”
“We don’t need the money. The girls need to see their father. I need to see my husband.”
“It is only this once.”
That set her off. “No it isn’t,” she snapped. She wagged a finger at him and said, “If you do it this time, Jansen will expect you to do it again.”
“And what would you have me do? Say no? Lose my job? Where would that leave us?”
“We could leave the station,” she said, her tone softening, pleading. “We could emigrate to one of the planets. The kids could feel what it’s like to truly be outside. To breathe in fresh air.”
“The air on the station is fresh,” said Seiben, defensively. “It’s constantly filtered. It’s probably cleaner than any of the planets.”
“You know what I mean,” said Darla. “We could start a new life. This isn’t the only place to live in the universe.”
“And what would I do there? There isn’t any demand for freighter captains on the planets.”
