Learning the Hard Way 2

by H. P. Caledon

  He finally heard a ramp lower and the echoing thud of its impact with the dock. One guard let go of his arm, and it sounded like he was tapping away on a memo-pad.

  “John Mathers, the prisoner is now in your custody.” The guard took hold of Keelan’s arm again before he and his partner guided Keelan aboard.

  “Long jump. Do you need help putting him under?” the other guard asked. Whoever was picking him up didn’t answer, but Keelan was taken further into the ship and strapped to something before the chains were removed. He heard the guards leave, then the ramp close. Footsteps approached, hesitated a short distance from him, but then left.

  The engines warmed up, and soon he felt the ship take off.

  For a long time there was nothing but the sounds of the ship and Keelan wondered how long he would be left awake with a bit in his mouth. He was already drooling so much that the bottom of the hood was drenched and had soaked into the neckline of his shirt.

  Finally footsteps sounded on the stairs, and he turned his head, listening intensely. More hesitation before the hood was yanked off. Keelan stared surprised at Mike for a beat, but then anger rose in him along with a cascade of other emotions. So many that Keelan became confused and just tried to push them all away, focusing on the one he knew—anger.

  Mike reached out and expertly removed the bit.

  “I was sure I had killed you, but then I heard the rumors of your survival from some new prisoners. You’re brave for taking the job of transferring me, traitor!”

  Mike held his gaze for a while.

  “Final lesson,” Mike said. Keelan stared at him bewildered, and Mike held up the pad for him to see. “How to forge federal documents like transport documents of prisoners. A near perfect escape plan.”

  Keelan looked at Mike in surprise, and Mike couldn’t hide his smile. The anger subsided and doubt set in. The many emotions became somewhat recognizable, and one of them was the hope he’d felt in Delta as he’d made plans for the both of them to escape. But the feeling was different now. It wasn’t just hope, and a thought persistently pushed forward in his mind. The thought of whether he had misjudged Mike. Was that what Mike’s presence in the dreams meant?

  Trust is earned. Springing me from Irgang certainly earns him the benefit of the doubt.

  Mike’s words finally sank in, and Keelan smiled. Final lesson.

  Something changed in Mike’s eyes. Hope grew.

  Hope of what?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Keelan stood in the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Shaved, washed, and with a new, proper haircut.

  Questions whirled in his head, and he needed some of them answered, soon. Mike hadn’t said much since he—with a trembling hand—had released the straps holding Keelan to the cryo-insert.

  Keelan smiled and left the bathroom—his nose being met by the heavenly scent of coffee from the Frontiers.

  “Out here,” Mike said from the door to the kitchen area. Mike sat on the wall bench and pushed a mug to Keelan who took a seat on the opposite side of the table.

  “Why, Mike? Why did you spring me?”

  “Not everybody is strong, Keelan. The number Rainer pulled on me... He made every piece fit. How secretive you had been and why you were suddenly just gone. I’m not proud of it.” There was no mistaking the pain and humiliation in Mike’s voice, and Keelan still didn’t know what had happened the month he was in isolation.

  “You told them about the escape plan, didn’t you?”

  “Keelan, I still can’t figure out the details on how it all happened. It was the murder of Burton that had you sent to isolation. I was told it was an escape, that you had traded me, and yes!” Mike held up a hand as to stop Keelan from interrupting. “I should have told myself that Rainer was the one lying.”

  Silence dominated the kitchen for a short while.

  Keelan looked into his mug. “Burton was a trap, and I didn’t see it coming. I sensed it, but I was just so happy with no longer owing Rainer anything anymore.”

  “Burton was impotent, did you know that?”

  Keelan looked up, shaking his head. Yet another of Rainer’s mind-fucks. If Burton was impotent, had he then really felt up Rainer’s followers?

  “Another thing that has bothered me,” Keelan said. “I don’t know of many guards who are on a first name basis with inmates. The guard who picked you up—”

  “Jameson. The physician told them that I was a merc. They saved me in the canteen by stopping a fight.”

  “You’re not on a first name with the guard?”

  Mike shook his head with no problems keeping eye contact.

  “Okay. So, merc. What’s the plan now?”

  “I’m not a merc anymore once they figure out you’re not being transferred anywhere.” Mike laughed. “But the plan is Motáll. I have a contact there who’ll make us new IDs. It’s gonna cost seventy-five grand for the two of us, so I’ve been busy collecting bounties.”

  “Your share for bringing me in should have helped.”

  “I didn’t get a cut... of your bounty...”

  Wow, awkward pun. Keelan hid his discomfort behind sipping coffee.

  “And after Motáll?” Keelan asked. “Or haven’t you gotten that far in the planning process?”

  “Of course I have! And two backup plans. But I was thinking you should help with the details, as it is also your freedom on the line.”

  “So your plan wasn’t just to dump me there, hi and goodbye, try not to get caught this time?”

  “No, because if they find you, they’re gonna find out what I did. The John Mathers identity is fairly bulletproof with both retina and fingerprints being of a high quality, and the real John Mathers is in route out here somewhere. I can’t change my appearance enough, though. I just know that John Mathers has never been to Irgang, so there was no way a guard would recognize him.”

  “But Mike T. Matthews has?”

  “I’m not that stupid,” Mike said, laughing.

  “Then how? As the drunkard when you and Ratkins picked up Cecil?” Keelan continued.

  Mike nodded but suddenly froze. He gaped at Keelan.

  “I followed Cecil to find you. And it worked.”

  “How did you learn of my past with Cecil?”

  “I stole a United System Prison transporter, Mike, that gave me open access to every database,” Keelan said, shaking his head. “I actually barely had it in me to be angry with you when I learned how naïve you are.”

  “Hopefully that’s changed.” Mike smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, where something dark grew instead.

  “So you arrived at Irgang in disguise both as you and as Mathers?”

  “Yeah, just not as elaborate as the one Ratkins made for me when we caught Cecil. How did you even see that it was me?”

  “I watched from across the street.”

  Mike rubbed his face. “I warned Ratkins that you were good.”

  “Yeah, I heard. In the alley, seconds before you sprinted off for that body bag. Just never thought that you and Ratkins actually managed to plan that ambush by the ferry. When did you?”

  “We didn’t. I didn’t even know Ratkins was still on the planet.”

  “And here I thought your careless way of walking the streets without watching over your shoulder was because you knew Ratkins was watching you.”

  Mike looked down and shook his head. “I felt observed and figured it was you. I just hoped you’d let me finish before... before killing me.”

  “Yeah, that didn’t go well,” Keelan mumbled and looked into his mug, turning it in his hands. “What would you have said?”

  “I’m sorry,” Mike said in a small voice.

  Keelan glanced at him.

  “And I would have said some of the things I just tried to explain to you.”

  “Am I supposed to apologize for trying to kill you?”

  Mike looked up and smiled. “One question has haunted me for the past three years. Something someone at the hospital s
aid—that I was lucky, because the guy using the knife didn’t know what he was doing... didn’t know where the artery was.”

  Keelan raised a brow and scoffed.

  “But I know that wasn’t true.”

  “And you want to know if I hesitated,” Keelan said.

  Mike nodded, keeping an intense eye contact.

  “I changed my mind. In the last split second, I changed my mind. But when I saw the amount of blood gushing out of you I didn’t think I had missed. And then something hard impacted with the back of my skull and things go pretty fuzzy after that.”

  “Why did you change your mind?”

  “Don’t ask, Mike, because I don’t know, and I really don’t want to venture down that path. But I’m glad I missed.”

  Mike’s smile grew. “So, what’s your part of the planning?”

  Keelan hesitated, not willing to trust Mike yet. He’d earned a bit, but not enough. “Do we have enough money?”

  “For what?”

  “You have to introduce me to something I heard about in Irgang.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “A cheese platter.”

  Keelan reclined on a sofa in the common room when Mike exited his room wearing training slacks and a t-shirt.

  “Are you gonna vegetate there all day, or are you gonna come train with me?”

  “Train?” Keelan asked, looking up.

  Mike nodded expectantly.

  “Train!” Keelan jumped from the sofa, turned off the VID, and entered his appointed room. Mike leaned against the door frame while Keelan opened his closet. “You didn’t buy me a lot of clothes.”

  “Didn’t see a point if you decided not to forgive me and finish the job.”

  Keelan turned to face him. “Did you expect me to?”

  “I saw the possibilities more like fifty-fifty,” Mike said and looked down, kicking the frame.

  “Since I’m not going to, do I get more clothes?”

  Mike nodded, smiling.

  Keelan changed into the only set of clothes in the closet—a pair of sweats and a t-shirt—and followed Mike down the stairs to the cargo hold and into a huge room with mats, boxing bag, and some weights.

  “Where in the worlds did you get this ship?”

  “With compliments from Spec Edit five’s new commanding officer. As a thank you for my help.”

  “So it’s your ship? Registered under your name? Not good when you get a new ID and bust people out of maximum-security facilities.”

  “Actually, it’s still registered to Spec Edit five but licensed to me. I can put new names on as I please, and I can change the signature. I did this for a living, you know. Not springing cons, but infiltration.”

  “And now Spec Edit five can track your whereabouts because it’s their damn ship?” Keelan asked, not happy about putting his faith in the military when it came to his freedom.

  “They can either way! Think, dammit! But there are no retina scanners or shit like that onboard this jalopy, so don’t worry.”

  Keelan looked around the ship. “Looks kinda new to me.”

  “Yeah, well, these ships are only used for transporting personnel. I had it rigged with an expanded external arsenal.”

  “How expanded?”

  Mike laughed. “I’ll give you a full tour and practical lesson of everything I gave you theoretically. Then again, as I understand it, theoretically is enough for you. Now get over here and warm up so I can kick your ass.”

  Keelan roared laughter, but Mike looked pretty sure of himself.

  Keelan sat on the sofa again and felt bruised to the bones while he massaged a bicep muscle he’d pulled a bit trying to get out of a solid grappling hold.

  Mike came out from the showers and crossed the hall to his room wearing only a towel around his waist. Keelan clearly saw the scar he’d left there.

  “Your turn!”

  To push the thoughts aside, Keelan pushed himself up and went to the bathroom. While washing off, he found more sore spots, bruises forming, and scrapes. Keelan thought he was in an okay shape, but Mike was in excellent shape. Had it been a real fight, though, Keelan was sure he would have won and ended up the only one alive. That was how it always went, and that was how one survived the streets or on the skip.

  Leaving the bathroom, he found Mike on the couch slamming shots.

  “Post workout bender?” Keelan asked and looked at the bottle.

  “Nah, but I got this injury about three years ago, and whenever I do something physically straining I get this really bad pain and a nerve pinches,” Mike said and looked at Keelan.

  “You really suck at sarcasm, you know that?”

  Mike chuckled, but without much humor while staring at the bottle. His eyes didn’t reveal that he’d had any yet, but Keelan was pretty sure that that was about to change.

  “I’ve seen bounty hunters and mercenaries given painkillers after injuries. First, they took the morphine when needed. After a pick up, that is. Then before. Finally, they picked up bounties to cover their addiction. They all have one thing in common, too. They all died from their addiction one way or another. By being too slow on the job or feeling invincible.”

  Keelan studied Mike’s sad expression. “If it hurts you that bad why give it your all in training?”

  “Because I have to learn to live through the pain, Keelan,” Mike said. “I have to get used to it and move on even when it’s bad. I have to learn to drown it out during a fight, so I’m not stopped by it.”

  “And drinking helps?”

  “Better than drugs,” Mike mumbled.

  “I certainly agree with you there, but drowning yourself in booze isn’t the way out either.”

  “Spare me your holy crap.”

  “You don’t think I want to drink myself far into a hole of oblivion sometimes?”

  “Get a glass.”

  “Bad idea, but I’ll drink one with you,” Keelan said and got a glass from the kitchen.

  Mike poured them a shot, put the bottle down, and raised his glass. “Here’s to... what?”

  “Something new?” Keelan asked.

  “Something new. And the old?”

  “Okay. In with the new, and out with the old.”

  Mike nodded, and Keelan could see that Mike had had several shots before Keelan joined him because his movements were less coordinated.

  “Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” Mike said and downed it. Keelan savored his.

  “How often do you need this?”

  “Not often,” Mike said, toying with the glass a bit before he filled it again and offered Keelan, who declined.

  “If you and I are going to be linked by the hips from now on, you can be pretty sure I want to have a say in where and when you drink,” Keelan said.

  Mike glared at him.

  “It is our safety on the line, right?”

  “Yeah, but I usually drink fast and hope to pass out quickly.”

  “Hangovers?”

  “Never had them. If I don’t mix booze, then I don’t get them.”

  Keelan chuckled. “Well, better make sure you get a clean glass every time, so you don’t mix.”

  Mike stared at him a while before Keelan’s poor attempt at humor seemed to seep through the fogginess and make Mike laugh.

  Before Keelan had finished his glass, Mike had downed three more. He sat back on the couch and looked like he was trying to focus on Keelan. Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep. Keelan shook his head and contemplated the consequences of what he’d done to Mike. Consequences to Mike, at least.

  He finally stood and scooped Mike up to carry him to bed. There he removed Mike’s shoes and pulled the covers halfway up, but as his hand reached Mike’s lower back, Mike gasped.

  Keelan stopped and looked at him, thinking Mike was so senselessly drunk that he couldn’t feel anything.

  “Teaches me for turning my back on him,” Mike whispered and slipped back into deep sleep.

  “Mike?” B
ut he didn’t answer. “Dammit, Mike.” Keelan sighed and left the room to put away the booze and glasses. He then went to bed.

  When Keelan woke up the next morning, he tiptoed to the bathroom, but halfway there he noticed Mike sitting in the cockpit.

  “How long have you been up?”

  “What? Coffee is in the kitchen!” Mike shouted.

  Keelan finished up in the bathroom and went to the kitchen, where he poured the coffee into a thermos. He was amazed that Mike was up already, and his thoughts kept returning to what Mike had said when nearly passed out from alcohol. Keelan hurried back to join Mike in the cockpit. “How long have you been up?” Keelan tried again.

  “Not long.”

  “You blacked out pretty quick last night.”

  “That’s the point drinking that stuff. It’s clean enough to degrease ball bearings. But, as my C.O. said... never drink so much that you aren’t ready for a drill in two hours.”

  “Are you?”

  “Hell no!” Mike laughed. “I’m not early-twenty-something anymore.”

  “Okay.” Keelan smiled, happy to see how little effect the booze had on him. He just hoped it wouldn’t escalate. “How long until we land on Motáll?”

  “A month and a half. We’ll star jump some of the way. I have an assignment there before we meet up with my contact.”

  “Assignment? With whom?”

  “You, I hoped.”

  “I’m not a merc!”

  “No, but if we take care of this little job, then we get a good price. It’s not a big job or anything.”

  “Who has to die?”

  Mike laughed loudly. “No one, hopefully.” Mike turned in his seat to pour himself another cup. “We just need to find out who our contact’s wife’s brother’s girlfriend or something is pooling on the side.”

  Keelan stared at him.

  “What? We just have to follow her for a few days and see what guy she meets up with. You can train your tracking techniques.”

  “Think I did well, since Ratkins passed two feet from me.”

  “He wasn’t there for you, remember? Focus is everything. And I highly doubt you spent a lot of time tracking anyone in Irgang.”