The Gates of Hell

by Chris Kennedy

  Taking her cue, he put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back, grinning. “Damn, Hawke, it’s good to see you again. When I heard you were in system, it just made my day. The crew and I said we’d make a party out of meeting up with you and your boys.”

  She grinned back, seemingly genuinely pleased. “That’s exactly what I’d hoped would happen. After all, who doesn’t like a good party? You remember Antwan.”

  Rick extended a hand to the man. “I’m glad to see your arm is better. It was broken up pretty good last time we met.”

  The young man grinned, his teeth white against the darker shade of his face. “That’s what good medical care will do for you. I’m glad to have the use of it back. It’s no fun being a one-armed bandit.”

  Rick laughed. “I’ll bet. It’s rough to be a tactical officer with one hand tied literally behind your back.”

  “You have no idea.”

  He turned his attention to the unknown man and extended his hand again. “Rick Betancourt, captain of Hermes.”

  “I’m Chappa,” the man said with a slight smile.

  “I don’t think I’ve heard that name before. Which part of Earth is it from?”

  “It’s from up Massachusetts way,” Hawke said before Chappa could respond. “And it’s not his real name. It’s his old call sign.”

  “Yeah,” the man said with a smile. “My real name is Chris Kennedy. I used to be with the Lions back in the day as a pilot. I decided to retire when things got a little too exciting for my taste. Now I fly cargo and passengers out of the port. Oh, and I write in my spare time.”

  Rick raised an eyebrow. “A writer? That’s pretty cool. What kind of stuff you write?”

  “Science fiction, with a lot of real-world mercenary fighting mixed in. It’s surprisingly popular.”

  “I’ll have to give it a look. So what’s with the name?”

  “He’s called Chappa because ‘Chappaquiddick’ wouldn’t fit on his nametag,” Hawke said with a smirk, once again interrupting the man. “While he was one of our best pilots, he had a girlfriend problem.”

  Rick gave them all a quizzical look but just gestured toward the empty seats at the table. “Why don’t you sit down and tell us all about it while we order another round?”

  Once they’d settled in, Chappa shook his head. “I didn’t have a girlfriend problem. It’s more like the girlfriends had a problem with me.”

  “Chappa’s what we call a skirt chaser in the business,” Hawke said smugly. “His problem is, the aerial dance of love he imagined always turned into a dogfight. You see, he likes to string along more than one girl at a time. When they find out, they tend to go…weapons free.”

  While Rick was digesting that information, Lacey snorted in amusement. “You sound like one of those old fighter pilots I used to read about.”

  Chappa spread his hands and smiled widely. “What can I say? I love the ladies, and they love me back. It’s hard to say no when somebody interesting comes along.”

  “So, what’s the record?” Antwan asked, his expression curious. “How many women have you had on the string without them realizing you weren’t dancing alone?”

  The question seemed to make Chappa a little uncomfortable. “A gentleman never tells.”

  “I heard it was five,” Hawke confided in a falsely low tone designed to carry to everyone at the table. “Then, when they all figured out they were being played, they set him up. He thought he was showing up for a date with one, but another of them was waiting for him.

  “At first, he figured he’d just misremembered who he was supposed to meet. Then the others showed up as a group, and things got really tense.”

  Chappa’s eyes narrowed. “I never told anybody that story. How did you hear it?”

  She smiled and leaned toward him a little. “One of the ladies was my Marine. Once I heard what was going on, I felt the need to offer my…tactical advice. As a Marine officer, I understand the value of a good ambush.”

  Chappa sat back, his mouth falling open. “You were behind that? Holy shit, I thought I was a dead man.”

  “Just remember, you can’t have a booby trap without a booby. You brought it on yourself.”

  That gave everybody except Chappa a good laugh.

  “Maybe it’s a good thing you retired after all,” Rick told the man. “Hawke’s not exactly the kind of woman you want to cross a second time. Or even once.”

  He turned his attention to the Marine officer. “While it’s sure as hell good to see, I have to confess I feel a little ambushed, too. How did you know Hermes was going to be here?”

  She gave him an enigmatic smile. “The Lions may have had something to do with that. Now before you get angry, the job you signed up for is absolutely legit. No kind of skullduggery there. Everything is exactly what you agreed to in the contract.

  “What I’d like to do is offer you a second contract on the down low. One that’s not going to inconvenience your people at all, but is going to help the Lions, and put a good chunk of change in your pocket for going to the same place you were already going to. We just want you to take a small cargo along with you.”

  “What kind of cargo?” he asked, not bothering to keep the thread of suspicion out of his voice.

  “The kind of cargo I don’t want to talk about in a bar. Nothing illegal, just valuable, and requiring discretion.”

  “I’ll need more information before we take this discussion any further,” he said firmly. “Trust only goes so far.”

  She considered him for a couple of seconds and then nodded. “Scoot back from the table.”

  Confused, he did as instructed, and was surprised when she rose smoothly to her feet and sat in his lap. While she certainly wasn’t the first woman to do so, it was an intimate sort of thing that he hadn’t been expecting, and he was suddenly far too aware of her body for his own comfort.

  Once again, she leaned forward and put her lips next to his ear. “I don’t want anyone to hear what we’re moving, so my apologies for this…less than professional seating arrangement. We’ve got a bunch of red diamonds that are destined for the Lions to pay off an old contract.

  “The ship it came on, a cruise liner from Desvorat, had a little bit of trouble getting the diamonds up to orbit. Basically, somebody tried to steal them. We were lucky some folks on the shuttle happened to foil the attempt.

  “We don’t want to have anyone else try, so Admiral Lyons sent me to expedite the delivery in a less public manner. Your ship just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

  Moving cargo around the Union was a complicated business, he knew. The larger the ship, the less F11 each jump required. That often meant getting something from point A to point B was anything but a straight line. More often, the route was quite circuitous.

  He could see how a message might get to the Lions before the actual cargo. Particularly if something were moving slowly because it was heavily guarded. Red diamonds, depending on their size, helped denote the denominations of Union currency. It was almost like having money, so other than F11, it was one of the most valuable resources around.

  Hawke reminded him of where she was sitting when she adjusted herself in his lap and made him realize he was having a strong physical reaction to her touch. Flushing, he realized he needed to get her back into her own seat before the situation took unprofessional to a whole new level.

  Before he could say anything, she grinned at him. “Why, Rick Betancourt, is that a weapon in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

  He flushed a deep red, and she hopped off of his lap with a laugh before he could say anything, returning to her seat.

  “You really should buy me dinner first, don’t you think?” he asked, his voice a bit hoarser than he’d expected it to be.

  “We can arrange that,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “I didn’t say anything last time we met, but I think you’re a handsome guy. While I’m certainly not off duty, we’re not in the same chain of
command, if you know what I mean. Why don’t we talk later?”

  To say his crew’s eyes were huge was something of an understatement. And from the way Malave was gawking at Hawke, he’d never seen anything like that from her either.

  The only one who took the whole thing in stride was Chappa. He just grinned.

  Rick cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should finish our beer and go somewhere a little bit more…private. To talk.”

  “Uh huh,” she said, her voice just a little husky. “Talk. I’m more than ready to hear what you have to say.”

  He was about to stand when someone stepped up next to the table and dumped a pitcher of beer straight over Chappa’s head.

  * * *

  Rick sat there stunned as Chappa leapt to his feet and stared at the red-headed Human woman who’d seemingly appeared from nowhere, and now stood glaring at him, empty pitcher in hand.

  “The hell, Arlene?” the pilot demanded.

  “You rat bastard, cheating son of a bitch,” the woman ground out between clenched teeth as Rick and the rest jumped up from their chairs. “There can’t be ten Human women working outta this starport, and you still found someone else to screw? I can’t fucking believe it.”

  Rick suppressed the urge to laugh. He felt bad for the man, but he’d apparently brought this down on himself.

  Chappa backed slowly away from the angry woman, his hands raised in supplication. “It’s not like that. Julie and I are just friends.”

  “Julie!” the woman screeched. “I’m talking about Ellen, you cheating whoreson!”

  With that, the woman hurled the empty pitcher at him and stalked toward the exit, her back stiffly straight, and her head held proudly high, as if daring anyone to say anything to her.

  They all stood in stunned silence as they watched her go.

  “She’s kinda hot,” Andy said sotto voce. “Can I get her number now that she’s available?”

  Lacey elbowed the rescue specialist. “Down, Lothario.”

  “All right,” Hawke said with a dark chuckle. “We should probably get out of here before somebody comes looking to make Chappa pay for that beer, since I’m sure Arlene didn’t buy it.”

  Rick looked back along the path the woman had come from and spotted the table she must’ve snagged the pitcher from. None of the spindly beings there seemed inclined to demand a replacement for their drink, perhaps thinking it well worth the price of the show.

  Still, fair was fair. He pulled out a credit chip that would cover the cost of a replacement and made sure the bartender saw him leave it on their table as they headed for the door.

  Hawke shot the drenched pilot an amused grin as she led them down the street toward the nearby port. “You haven’t changed one damned bit, Chappa. I’d ask how you could possibly manage something like this, but I really don’t want to know.

  “What I will do is remind you that you’re on the clock. You’re being paid for this job, and I expect you to keep an eye out for any of your many girlfriends swooping in for revenge. Speaking of that, what are the chances we’re going to see Ellen or Julie tonight?”

  Chappa hunched over as he walked, his hair sticking out wildly in every direction now that the beer was starting to dry. “They work at the starport just like I do. Neither is supposed to be on shift, but you never know.”

  Rick looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was following them and then edged a little bit closer to Hawke. Time to get this back on track. “So you want us to pick up this shipment, take it up to Hermes, and then deliver it to the Lions?”

  She nodded, never slowing her long strides. “I understand it’s convoluted, but the contract you signed to provide search and rescue is in the same system where the Lions will meet us.

  “All they had available to send to escort the shipment was me, a few of my people, and Antwan. We had to take civilian transport to get here in time, and we only managed it because we knew where the cargo would be passing through.

  “I’ve got all the codes and authorizations to divert the shipment. The admiral doesn’t think the first attempt on it was a random act of piracy. It’s a lot of money, paying off a long-standing contract, and, frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the first attempt to steal it wasn’t a covert attempt by the people who originally hired us to get their money back.”

  “Really?” he asked with a frown. “Who pays cash? And if you don’t get the money, does it really count as payment?”

  She shrugged slightly, hunching over slightly at the chill wind. “I didn’t write the contract, and I didn’t sign it. Neither did the admiral. This was something his brother agreed to before he died ten years ago. It’s taken a long time to finish the work, and the terms of the payment were spelled out in the contract.

  “In any case, rather than have a fight about getting the payment sent again, we wanted to make sure it gets to where it’s supposed to go the first time. That’s where you come in. I’m going to sign for the shipment, we’ll load it on Chappa’s shuttle, and he’ll take it up to Hermes.

  “All you have to do is deliver it—and us—to the Lions when you arrive at your destination. At that point, you’ll start your normal contract as though none of this ever happened, except you’ll have a nice chunk of change in your account that you hadn’t counted on. I’ve got it all written up if you want to look it over.”

  They ducked across the street as a group and left the area around the bars. The lighting in the area became dimmer, and the elements were now spaced further apart, leaving pools of darkness between the posts. That made him nervous.

  “I’m going to want to see that contract,” he confirmed. “I’m willing to give you a little leeway because I trust you and the Lions, but before we take possession of something like that, I want to see it spelled out.”

  “I’ll send you a copy,” she said with a nod. “It’s a standard contract that even includes combat bonuses, if they’re needed. Just in case you run into any derelict battleships you need to shoot anybody with.”

  He shook his head at her grin. “I’m pretty sure that was a one-time deal. Send it to my slate, and I’ll check it out as we walk. Do you think we’re in danger of someone trying to take it away here at the port?”

  “I certainly hope not, but I’ve got people to back us up. They don’t have their full kit, but trust me when I say they’ll be up to defending us if someone comes along looking for trouble.”

  He brought out his slate and read through the contract once she’d sent it to him. Just like she’d said, it was standard. Pick up the cargo, load it aboard Hermes, take it to the target system, and deliver it to the Lions. It also included language about transporting Hawke and her people back with him.

  They had plenty of space aboard Hermes, so that wasn’t a problem. The ship was also fast, so if somebody decided to get after them in normal space, they’d have a decent chance of escaping.

  At last he nodded and signed it. “Everything looks good. Here’s to hoping we don’t have the kind of problem Chappa had. Speaking of him, what’s his part in all this again?”

  The woman shot a smirk at the rumpled ex-Lion. “We’re using his shuttle because he’s a known quantity. He’s not going with us. He’s got his own mess here to clean up.”

  He nodded. “Adrian, I want you to take the rest of the crew back up to Hermes in our shuttle. We’ll catch up with you once we’ve got the cargo. As soon as we board, I want us headed for the stargate. We’ll get there a little bit early, but I’d feel better in a crowd of ships waiting for transit.”

  “You got it, boss,” his pilot said.

  Rick turned his attention back to Hawke. “I sure hope I don’t regret doing this.”

  “Me, either,” she said. “Are you packing?”

  He shot her a disdainful glance. “I’m in search and rescue, but I’m still a merc. I’ve got a concealed piece, just like the rest of my people.”

  “We’ll upgrade you when we get to the starport,” she said. “In a situa
tion like this, it’s better to be obvious about the downsides of causing us trouble. Having a real gun on your hip goes a long way toward making sure nobody’s rude.”

  He sure hoped nobody was going to get that rude. With all his bravado about being a merc, his job wasn’t killing people. It was saving them.

  That one time with the battleship had been a fluke. He didn’t want a repeat of having to inflict violence upon people trying to kill him and his people.

  But if it came to fighting or dying, he knew which way he’d jump.

  * * *

  The trip to the shuttle port proved uneventful. With everything at stake, Rick kept expecting trouble, but other than some workers getting off shift, they didn’t see anyone at all.

  This starport was laid out pretty much like every other one he’d seen. It was designed to get people and cargo down from orbit and disembarked in an organized fashion. For different species, that occasionally meant different things.

  In this case, the passenger side of things was a lot prettier than the cargo side, because paying passengers complained when things weren’t up to their standards. Once they were past where outsiders normally visited, everything became utilitarian and more than a bit scruffy.

  It was also smellier. The air was heavy with the mixed odors of fuel, sweat, and other less identifiable things. Personally, Rick preferred it this way. It was honest.

  The four of them might’ve looked a little out of place walking through the cargo side, but none of the workers gave them a second glance. They had pallets of cargo to move from Point A to Point B and only cared about things that affected their schedules.

  “I can’t say I’m familiar with this side of the starport,” Rick said to Hawke as they walked around a loader carrying a stack of crates that looked more than a little unbalanced. He gave it extra room. “Where exactly does one pick up high-value cargo, and how far away is it from Chappa’s shuttle?”

  Hawke didn’t slow her pace, dodging around people and cargo alike with ease. “We’re going to the shuttle first. That’s where my people are waiting. Once we pick them up, we’ll go to the portmaster’s office for the cargo.”