McCade on the Run (Sam McCade Omnibus)

by William C. Dietz

  Eighteen

  Mustapha Pong was frustrated. The planet Salazar was the last place in the universe that he wanted to be. Especially given his many business deals, his army forming up on HiHo, and the war brewing on Drang.

  Of course that was the problem, the war on Drang, and the question of who would win it. Because the 56,827 wanted a full-scale, human-fought war, and because they wanted Pong to accept a personal role, it was important to stack the deck as much as he could.

  Pong looked out the window. It was winter. Snow fell steadily from a lead-gray sky, swirling through the aircar’s headlights, to cover the city of Segundo with a cloak of white. It was beautiful.

  Pong longed for the cold kiss of a snowflake on his cheek, the bite of frigid air, and the wonderful silence that snow brings with it.

  Then, after a brisk walk in the snow, a glorious retreat into the yellow warmth of a good cafe. The kind he stood outside of as a child, peering in through steam-fogged windows, marveling at the wonderful things that people ate.

  “And unless you pay attention that’s exactly where you will be,” the Melcetian reminded him tartly, “on the outside looking in.”

  “And so what?” Pong asked resentfully. “As long as there’s blood in my body, what do you care?”

  “My, my,” the mind slug replied sarcastically, “touchy aren’t we? But let’s discuss that. You made a lot of promises to the 56,827. In essence you promised them the entire human race. How will they react should you deliver something less? How much blood will you give me then?”

  The Melcetian was right. There was a lot at stake and this was no time to make mistakes. Pong forced himself to concentrate.

  Thing were heating up on Drang. For years now a combine of large corporations had been gathering power, buying off as many elected representatives as they could, and working to counter the rest with an army of paid lobbyists. Now, things were coming to a head and everyone knew it.

  The combine officials were determined to fight rather than surrender what was left of the government. So, with hostilities about to begin, and both sides looking for an advantage, Pong found himself in the perfect situation.

  In order to satisfy the 56,827’s desire to witness a war, he was offering a brand-new, first-rate army at a bargain basement price. Both the world government and the combine wanted his help in the worst way.

  And after careful consideration of both alternatives, Pong had decided in favor of the world government. The combine was strong, but according to Pong’s intelligence the government was just a little bit stronger, and more likely to win.

  In a few short minutes the aircar would land, Pong would meet with representatives from Drang’s government, and the deal would be done.

  Shortly thereafter he would make the short hop from Salazar to Drang, take command of his brand-new army, and win the ensuring war. Then, with backing from the 56,827, the boy from the slums of Desus II would turn the Empire on its head.

  “Ah,such dreams,”the mind slug said acidly. “And should they come true, what then? The new Emperor will be a slave to the 56,827, that’s what.”

  “Perhaps,” Mustapha Pong thought back, “or perhaps it will be the other way around.”

  “Ah,” the Melcetian said amusedly. “Even more delusions of grandeur.”

  But even as the alien formulated the thought it also injected a chemical reward into Pong’s bloodstream. The mind slug knew that the resulting physical pleasure would reinforce the human’s ambition and encourage him to act on it.

  Suddenly Pong felt warm and happy. He turned to look at Molly. He’d given her a red ball. She was playing with it and staring out the window.

  Molly had been quiet, almost taciturn since their visit to the alien ship, and Pong was sorry that he’d taken her along. 47,721 scared her, that was clear, but there was something more as well. Something she refused to talk about. The ball, made from emergency hull sealer, had been by way of an apology.

  Pong turned back to the window. This time there would be nothing more frightening than some government bureaucrats to deal with, and if the meeting went quickly, maybe they could sneak away for a walk through the snow. Maybe they’d stumble across a toy store and Pong could buy Molly something nicer than a ball made of sealant.

  Up ahead a fancifully sculpted high-rise towered over all the rest. It was covered with black glass and surrounded by an invisible force field. Just part of the elaborate security measures required by both sides.

  The pilot murmured something into her mic and the force field went down long enough for the aircar to slip inside and settle toward the carefully cleared roof.

  The aircar touched with a gentle thump and a hatch slid open. A blast of cold air entered and brought a few snowflakes with it. Molly moved her finger under one and urged it to land. The snowflake shied away and fell toward a leather-covered seat. The snow reminded her of Alice.

  Pong had to bend over to make his way out of the car. It was a single step to the ground. The fur-lined coat was custom-tailored to accommodate both Pong and the mind slug. The coat felt good as Pong pulled it close around him.

  Raz and three of Pong’s best security people took up positions around him. Raz wore the top half of some black body armor as a concession to both the situation and the weather. Like the others he was heavily armed.

  Pong turned to help Molly out of the aircar. She looked cute in the brown hat and matching fur coat. She smiled briefly and it warmed Pong’s heart. He subvocalized.

  “Is everything clear?”

  “We swept it twice, boss,” Raz replied. “It’s clean as a whistle.”

  Pong nodded. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

  With Molly at his side and guards all around him, Pong marched through a dusting of snow to the roof-top lobby. Doors swished aside and a uniformed security guard snapped to attention. Pong waved a hand in acknowledgment before coming to a halt in front of an open lift tube.

  Raz and a tough-looking woman stepped aboard, waved detectors through the air like wizards casting a spell, and nodded their permission.

  Pong stepped aboard and turned around. The doors closed and the platform started to descend. The inside walls were alive with vid-art. Color swirled. Abstract shapes appeared, melted, and merged to become something else.

  Pong didn’t like it. He preferred art that had substance and definition. Something you could count on.

  The platform came to a smooth stop and the doors hissed open. The security guards got off, detectors scanning, weapons ready to fire.

  A tall man with a long solemn face waited patiently for the security team to complete its inspection. He wore a formal-looking robe with gold trim and a high collar. The man bowed as Pong stepped out of the lift tube.

  “Citizen Pong. We are honored. My name is Ethan Mordu, Drang’s envoy to Salazar, and host of today’s meeting. I apologize for our rather wintry weather.”

  Pong delivered a small bow. “The honor is mine. As for your weather, I find it quite refreshing.”

  Mordu smiled and looked down at Molly. “What a pretty little girl. Your daughter perhaps?”

  Pong placed a possessive hand on Molly’s shoulder. “No, though I’d be proud if she were. Molly, this is Envoy Mordu.”

  Thanks to her mother’s position on the planetary council Molly had been to any number of formal occasions and knew the drill. She gave a slight curtsey, the kind reserved for minor diplomats, and considered throwing herself on Mordu’s mercy.

  Molly wondered what he’d do. Nothing probably, and that plus the L-band cinched tight around her head cautioned silence.

  The two men made small talk as they walked down the wide shiny hall. The walls were paneled with a light-colored native wood. They glistened with wax.

  Molly liked the way her heels made a clicking sound on the hardwood floors and tried a couple of surreptitious variations. Nobody seemed to notice.

  Then the clicking sounds disappeared as they passed throug
h large double doors and entered a large, well-carpeted room. Two well-dressed women and a man stood to greet them. Except for a circular table, and some comfortable-looking chairs, the room was otherwise empty.

  Molly waited for Pong to introduce her, curtseyed in turn, and drifted away as the adults began to talk.

  Each wall was completely different. One was hidden by a curtain of rich-looking fabric, another consisted of floor-to-ceiling glass, and the third boasted an enormous holo tank. But it was the last wall that caught and held Molly’s attention. It featured a heroic mural.

  The painting showed a man, woman, and child in the foreground, and behind them a colony ship that was already being stripped of useful metal. The mural incorporated lots of detail, including some of Salazar’s most famous wildlife, and Molly studied it while the security team inspected the room.

  Pong shrugged apologetically as Raz looked behind the curtain. “I’m sorry about that, but you know how security people are, once they get going there’s no stopping them.”

  The others nodded sympathetically, well aware that the security people were following Pong’s orders, and not in the least insulted. They would’ve taken similar precautions had positions been reversed.

  Once Raz had signaled his satisfaction with security, Pong chose a seat with his back toward the holo wall, and wasted little time getting down to business. Molly took a seat right next to him with the security team fanning out behind.

  Under normal circumstances the conversation would have centered around price, but given the fact that Pong was offering his army at cost, the discussion went off in another direction.

  Not knowing of Pong’s relationship with the 56,827, or their existence for that matter, Drang’s officials assumed that his low asking price equated to ulterior motives. Pong was after something, but what was it? The mineral rights presently held by the combine? A role in Drang’s government? What?

  The officials needed answers to these questions and more before they signed a formal agreement.

  Pong understood these concerns and knew how to handle them. The key was to show a little greed, but stop short of scaring them and breaking the deal. In other words it should be a rather enjoyable process that ended up the way Pong wanted it to.

  So as the adults plunged into their negotiations Molly eased her way out of the chair next to Pong and drifted away. The guards ignored her.

  First Molly looked out the window, wrote her name on the slightly fogged glass, and watched the snow fall. But the snow reminded Molly of home, of Mommy, and made her hurt inside.

  She walked across the room, running a finger along the smooth surface of the holo tank, and over to the mural. It was a truly wonderful painting, full of interesting detail, and bright clean color. It absorbed Molly’s interest for a full five minutes.

  Then, without conscious thought, the ball left Molly’s hand and bounced off the floor. The carpet absorbed the sound. She caught it and looked toward the adults. No reaction.

  Molly smiled and bounced the ball again, and again, and again, until it hit the toe of her boot and hopped away. Molly followed as the ball headed straight for the drape-covered wall and rolled underneath.

  Molly looked at Raz but the bodyguard was looking in another direction. She checked the other security people. Ditto.

  As Molly turned back something strange happened. The ball rolled out from under the curtain, and just as it did, Molly saw the tip of a highly polished boot. There was someone behind the curtain!

  Curious, Molly waited for the ball to reach her, and bent to pick it up. Now she saw more boots, at least six in all, suggesting three people. Molly straightened up and pretended interest in the ball.

  Why would people hide behind the drape? And where had they come from? Molly remembered how Raz had pulled the curtain aside and looked behind it. She’d seen no sign of a door. A secret passage then! Like in the books she’d read.

  Something cold fell into Molly’s stomach. Suddenly she knew that the people shouldn’t be there.

  Forcing herself to walk very slowly, Molly ambled toward the table and took her seat next to Pong. Except for a glance in her direction the adults took little notice.

  Trying to hide her action Molly tugged on the side of Pong’s tunic.

  Pong felt Molly pull at his tunic and felt annoyed. Couldn’t she see that this was the critical moment? In a minute, maybe two, he’d call for closure. And given the way things were going there was little doubt that he’d get it.

  Molly tugged again. Pong forced a smile.“Excuse me.You know how children are. This will only take a moment.”

  Pong turned toward Molly. His voice was an urgent whisper. “Damn it, child, can’t you see this is the wrong time to bother me?”

  Molly bit her lip. Was she wrong? Was there some simple explanation for the people behind the curtain? Would Pong know that and be angry with her?

  “I dropped my ball,”she whispered,“it went behind the curtain.Someone kicked it out to me. When I bent over I saw three pairs of feet.”

  Pong started to say something irritable, stopped when he realized what Molly had said, and turned slightly pale. He subvocalized and smiled as he turned toward the officials.

  “Wouldn’t you know it? She needs a bathroom.”

  Then all sorts of things happened at once. Molly found herself on the floor, Raz and the others sprayed the curtain with stun beams, and a man fell forward bringing the entire drapery down with it. Then two more men toppled over, weapons falling, bodies hitting the floor with a soft thump.

  At that point Pong’s security team shouted orders, one of the officials pulled a blaster, and fell facedown when Raz stunned her. The woman’s head hit the conference table with a loud thud.

  A few seconds later and Raz had guards on the secret passage and the room’s man entrance. Reinforcements would get a big surprise.

  Silence descended on the room. Pong was on his feet. During the confusion a small slug gun had materialized in his hand. The barrel was touching the inside of Ethan Mordu’s right ear.

  Mordu looked distinctly uncomfortable.

  Pong caught Raz’s eye, nodded toward Mordu, and removed his gun from the diplomat’s ear. Turning toward Molly he bent to help her.

  “Are you alright, child? Sorry about throwing you down but there wasn’t much time. What you did was very brave.”

  Molly didn’t feel brave. She felt cold and shaky inside.

  Pong turned his attention to Mordu and the two other officials who sat frozen in their seats,hands on top of the table,faces etched with fear.“So,were the assassins just an option, or were they the entire plan?”

  The officials looked at one another but remained silent.

  Pong shook his head sadly. “Come, come. No need to be modest. It was a good plan and would’ve worked except for my little friend here.”

  Mordu cleared his throat. “The assassins were an option. In case negotiations broke down.”

  Pong nodded understandingly. “I understand. Quite sensible. Always have a backup.”

  Pong smiled. “Of course it helps if the backup works.”

  Raz put a hand to his ear as if hearing something. “The aircar is almost here.”

  Pong pulled on his coat and looked around the room.“Excellent.You may prepare our exit.”

  Raz swiveled toward the window and squeezed the trigger on his automatic weapon. The slug thrower made a roar of sound.

  Molly held her hands over her ears as the window shattered and fell in a shimmery cascade of glass. She staggered as air rushed out through the opening, taking loose pieces of paper with it. An alarm sounded out in the hall.

  Then the aircar appeared and hovered just outside the window. It looked huge and somewhat ominous with its flashing beacons and ugly-looking guns.

  “So,”Pong yelled over the whine of the aircar’s drives, “that brings this meeting to a close. In just a moment Raz will say good-bye as only he can.”

  Something about
the way Pong said it, and the look on his bodyguard’s face, told Molly what would happen. The moment Pong climbed aboard the aircar Raz would kill them. She pulled at Pong’s coat.

  “Don’t kill them! What good will it do? We survived. That’s the important thing.”

  Pong frowned, started to say something, and changed his mind. He looked at each official in turn. “This is your lucky day! The child is right. Killing you will accomplish nothing. But when my army comes, and pulls your government down, remember this moment. You brought this end upon yourselves.”

  A cold wind entered the room, picked up some papers, and threw them down. Snowflakes settled toward the top of the conference-room table.

  Pong took Molly’s hand and led her toward the aircar. “Come on, child, let’s go for a walk in the snow.”

  Nineteen

  “Hammerfall leader, this is hammerdrop one.”

  McCade chinned his mic. The drop module was only slightly larger than his combat-equipped body. He could smell his own sweat. “Hammerdrop leader. Go.”

  “We are five to the zone. Repeat, five to the zone. Stand by.”

  McCade swallowed hard. In less than five minutes he and his special ops team would fall through Drang’s atmosphere, pray that their drop mods would hang together long enough to get them below the government’s radar, and hope that their electronic countermeasure gear was as good as the sales literature claimed it was. If not, they’d be easy targets for the government’s air defense battalion.

  McCade chinned the team freq. “Hammerfall leader to hammerfall team. We are minus five and counting. Auto sequence and sound off.”

  McCade flipped a switch and pushed a button. There was an armored box under his seat. Inside the box was a mini-comp. It ran an auto check on the module’s systems, found everything to its liking, and lit a green light on the instrument panel.

  Meanwhile the special ops team checked in.