“He must have foreseen the possibility of Trall making this kind of move. Ballsy for sure, but he could’ve gone straight the Magistrate and bypassed Trall all together.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to arouse suspicion,” Bria offered.
“I guess it’s possible. It could also be that he wanted to make damn sure he had a backup. Maybe he didn’t expect to die, but he might’ve expected Trall to falsify the documents.”
“Either one of them makes sense,” Bria said with a shrug. “So now what?”
“I gotta get you out of here, like now,” Dah said, escorting her down the hallway back to his car. “You’re not safe here. You’ll be safer at my place.”
“Okay,” she said, stuffing her pistol back into her purse as they walked.
“Why did you shoot at me right away?”
“I don’t know.” Bria shrugged. “You’re dressed like a hitman.”
Dah laughed. “I said the same thing to myself as I entered SCBI Building earlier today. I’m actually off-”
“You were at SCBI Building today?”
“Yeah,” Dah shrugged. “Why? I was on official police business.”
“Did anyone see you?”
“Well, yeah. The security guards, that super-hot receptionist who directed me to the restrooms, a handful of workers. Why?”
“Shit!” she scoffed, looking around, scared stiff.
“What? What’s wrong?” Dah stopped and gently grabbed her arm, forcing her stop and look at him.
“Any one of those people could have been a spy! Did you tell anyone where you were going next?”
“No,” he promised. “Not even my superiors know where I am.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She fixed him with a very incredulous gaze.
“Like I said, I’m not really on official police business.” Dah looked at the floor, unable to look Bria in her beautiful green eyes. “I knew Trall was dirty from the moment he authorized the use of deadly force on the rioters weeks ago. So I was willing to go the extra distance to get the evidence I needed. I knew, as a cop, that I couldn’t touch Trall. But as a civilian, I could get away with certain things. My superiors know I’m up to something, just not what.”
“So, who’s getting this information I gave you?”
“A friend,” Dah said and started walking again.
“A friend?” Bria asked, falling into step.
“A friend in high places… literally.”
“So are you-” Bria’s question was cut short when a high-velocity bullet ripped clear through her abdomen, lodging in the wall behind her.
“Bria!” he shouted.
She dropped to the floor, a steady flow of blood issuing from the wound the size of a man’s thumbnail. He instantly dropped to the ground, too, pulling his side arm. It was definitely a sniper. Someone must have followed him to Rashad’s residence.
He grabbed Bria by the shoulder of her shirt, and dragged her along the carpet below the view of the windows. Some random shots ripped through the walls near them. Clearly the sniper got the impression that he was crawling on the floor. Another bullet ripped through the wall inches from his head and he stopped for moment.
A loud crash came from one of the spare rooms that led to the hallway.
Ah crap! Dah thought.
He could hear footsteps, booted and running. They rounded the corner and looked at the two of them lying on the floor. Suddenly another bullet ripped through the hallway and dropped one of the approaching bad guys. Then another bullet came and another man dropped. Dah opened fire on the remaining and, between him and this unknown, friendly sniper, they were able to clear out the house.
Suddenly, Dah’s com unit chimed. Dah checked it and it indicated that Koon was calling him.
“Thought you could use some help!” his voice came through.
“And not a minute too soon. What are you doing here?”
“Caught wind of a break-in on the scanner. Your name came up and I knew that you weren’t going to be able to take ‘em all by yourself.”
“Did you get the other sniper?”
“Come on, Cap’!” Koon sounded almost hurt… almost. “I took care of him first.”
“I owe you a drink,” Dah said, picking up the barely-breathing Bria’Nah Briar.
“And I’m gonna order the most expen-” Koon’s reply abruptly turned into an agonized cry followed by a gurgled moan.
“Koon?” Dah called. “Koon, you there?”
“Captain Dack’Tandy Dah?” a sultry female voice asked over Koon’s mic frequency.
“Who is this?”
“Who I am isn’t important. Your friend Koon, here… well, let’s just say he’s a good shot, but he hit the wrong target… and paid for it with his life.”
“You bitch!” Dah growled. “He was just a kid.” It was true; he was barely twenty-five years old.
“Easy, Captain. I can see you quite clearly. Let’s cut a deal. You give me the memstick and the girl, and I let you go and forget that you violated a federal law to obtain the information you’re carrying.”
“And if I tell you to go fuck yourself?”
“Then I put a bullet between your eyes and you both die.”
Dah was feeling a little bolder than usual today. He started flapping his arms and bobbing his head like a bird. “What am I doing right now?”
“Acting like an idiot,” the velvet voice answered pointedly.
“Ah! But you didn’t say what I was acting like,” Dah pointed out. A bullet blasted through the window and grazed Dah’s face so close that he could feel the heat emanating from it. “Okay, so you can see me.”
“That’s right, Captain Dah. Now what’s your choice?”
“So I hand over the girl and evidence, and I walk away clean as a baby’s butt?” Dah was only really interested in buying some time to activate his car’s homing equipment to zone-in on his location and fly to him.
“That’s the idea.”
“Hmm, that’s a gracious offer; the type that only a fool would decline. But, then again, I was never accused of being the sharpest tool in the shed. Go fuck yourself!” he shouted as the car crashed into the hallway and the hatch popped open. While bullets rained down on him from a distance, he loaded Bria into the car and took off for heavy traffic in hopes of losing any other tails that he might have picked up his trail. He felt a pang of regret for not picking up Koon’s body, but he wasn’t in the mood for a straight up fight and Bria needed medical treatment.
He knew just the place.
Chapter Seven
“It’s bad,” the doctor said. He went solely by the name Medic. Dah never knew his real name, but understood that it was essential for his protection. With as many enemies he had, it was a miracle he could go to the corner store without getting dragged into an alley and beaten to death. He used to be a mob medic, but got out of the business when he ratted out a major crime boss on a plea bargain.
Now he did basement treatments for low-income people. He would take payments in food or goods or, of course, cold, hard cash. But he lived in a constant state of fear that mafia muscle would knock down his door at any time. That’s when he changed his name and had his face surgically altered in an attempt to disappear. So far, it had worked.
“How bad is ‘bad’?”
“I might not be able save her. She’s lost a lot of blood.”
“I got her here as quickly as I could.”
“That’s probably why she’s still alive.” He closed the wound using a small laser device that cauterized it. It was a field medic‘s bandage used for closing bullet wounds quickly. “I have her hooked up to an IV with synthetic but if her body doesn’t assimilate it, I don’t have enough real blood to save her. Right now, it’s going to be a waiting game.”
“How long until we know?”
“Maybe tomorrow morning,” he said with a shrug.
“Okay. Give me a call on my com unit when you know for sure. I have to make a call.�
��
“Khai!” Dah said when Khai answered.
“You got something for me, Dack?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. I’ve got the dirt on Trall that we needed. I have it here on a memstick. I’m transmitting it to you now. It’s encrypted, but Joon’s onboard computer will decrypt it for you.”
“Okay, I just got it… the computer is decrypting it…” Khai paused for a long time. “Are you shittin’ me?”
“No,” Dah said plainly. It was certainly wasn’t a time to joke.
“The body in Puar’s shuttle wasn’t him?”
“You know what this means?”
“Yeah,” Khai growled. “Puar’s alive and I’m in for a world of hurt.”
“There’s just one problem. We don’t know where Trall is.”
“We’ll know soon enough,” Khai said.
“How can you be so sure?” Dah asked.
“Now that the populace thinks Puar’s dead, he’ll make his move. And with any luck, he’ll give away his position.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Trust me,” Khai said and cut the transmission.
“‘Trust me’,” he mocked. “How can I trust you when you won’t let me in on the plan?”
Life blurred into view as the drugs that Trall had injected into Puar’s system began to wear off. The injection was a concoction that slowed the body’s processes down to a crawl; for all intents and purposes, he had been almost legally dead for three days, slumped over, comatose in a plush chair in the control/panic room deep within the rock walls of the canyon bunker. Trall sat across from him, leaned back in an equally plush chair, legs crossed, a pistol trained on him. All the muscles in Puar’s body ached with oxygen deprivation.
“Good morning, Prime Minister. ‘Bout time you came around.”
“Trall! What the hell is-”
“Shut up!” Trall screamed. Puar complied. “I didn’t want it to come to this, but you’ve left me with little choice! It was I who bribed a lowly, underpaid engineer to drop the power in that grid long enough to let a couple Vyysarri ships through, not to mention the military-grade weapons supplied to the Slum Gangs. I so hoped they would rid me of the insufferable Colonel Khail and my prayers have been answered. Though his selfless death did save the shield generator—and prolonged the life of this city, I was not without a backup plan. Now, I’ll just have to use the Hammer Cannon instead. Despite Khail’s efforts—it’s inevitable, the city will fall and I’ll be rich! Rich beyond my wildest dreams!”
“This is about the Ti’tan’lium?” Puar did nothing to hide his disgust.
“Oh!” Trall laughed maniacally. “Bravo, our fearless, brainless leader! Seryys law dictates that any minerals not claimed by the government, can be claimed by its discoverer. And since Former Colonel Khail isn’t around to claim it for himself, and with Director San being arrested for embezzling millions of credits from D-PAG, I’ll be the only one to claim it. I’ll sell it to Seryys Combat and they’ll be more than happy to buy from me to avenge the travesty of Seryys City.”
“I’ll never give you the fire code.”
“I beg to differ, Pual.” An evil scowl graced his gaunt face. “I don’t want to bring your family into this. It would be most unfortunate if your brother’s armor failed to stop a bullet, or if your mother’s house was to burn down, or even… your nephew’s school was terrorized by Slum Gangs… How is your wife these days?”
“Why you little…”
“Oh please,” Trall hissed. “What are you going to do, huh? I’ve programmed the security to kill you if you leave this room. And I already have ‘people’ watching every move your family makes. If you value their lives, you’ll give me the code.”
“Fine,” Puar relented, fearing for his family’s safety. “It’s Puar-seven-seven-five-alpha-tango-two. But the Board of Directors will never let something like that happen without my consent, even with the fire code.”
Seryys Combat was a corporation, contracted by the government, to produce, build and maintain the military that protected the Seryys System. Though the Prime Minister had supreme power of the military, there was also a board of directors, which was made up of equal parts, retired military, civilians and retired government officials, who could accept or deny a declaration of war or a commission to build a weapon of mass destruction as a kind of checks and balances. Seryys Combat was the largest employer in the system being on all five of the habitable planets in the system and on countless other colony worlds within their boundaries. The government gave SC a yearly stipend and whatever overhead the company had, was out of pocket for them, not the government. That meant less deficit spending and more production.
“Oh,” the Minister of Planetary Affairs sang. “Prime Minister, I’m afraid that you don’t have any authority anymore… you see, you’re dead. It was just unfortunate that your body guard and driver had to die, too. Who would have thought that your personal shuttle’s hover pad array would malfunction?”
Puar instantly felt for his family. Ralm’Es Ra was another veteran with PTSD. He was fired from a construction company working in the Corporate Sector on the shield generator project. After Ralm was fired and arrested—and being a former soldier himself—Prime Minister Puar took pity on him and gave him the job. That, and he and his family had been good friends with the Ra family for decades and when an opportunity came up to help that family, Puar hired him in a heartbeat. He was a good soldier and dear friend to him… and Colonel Khai’Xander Khail.
“You son of a bitch!” Puar rumbled as he jumped up and tried to wrest the gun from Trall’s hand. He didn’t make it far. A security robot stunned him with a taser jolt that sent him falling, stiff as a board, to the floor.
“That’s better.”
Trall turned his back on his Prime Minister and left. He had a date with a multi-trillion-credit destiny and he didn’t want to be late. He was headed for Orbital Station 12, in low orbit around Seryys to watch the city fall from a good safe distance.
“Trall, you piece of shit! This isn’t over!”
Trall stopped and spun on his heel. The lighting in the bunker accentuated every deep line and wrinkle on his sickly face. “You are so right, Prime Minister. Things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get better. And don’t worry, my friend. You’ll die soon enough. The only reason you’re still alive is because I feel that you might still prove useful yet. ”
“You bastard,” Puar seethed. “You’d sell your soul to the Vyysarri if it meant turning a profit in your favor.”
“Now, Prime Minister. How ignorant that violent, little brain of yours is.” A large smile crept across his gaunt features. “My actions will not only make me rich beyond my wildest dreams, they’ll save this system and help to eliminate the Vyysarri threat through new ships and weapons. In all actuality, I’m a true patriot.”
“Listen, Trall. I know that the death of your family was hard to cope with, but this is not the way to avenge their deaths. I can’t tell you how many friends I lost in the SCGF, but that doesn’t give me the right to kill my own kind as a means to justify an end.”
“Your words are true, but the real world doesn’t work that way. There’s always collateral damage… always.” Trall took a menacing step closer. “You’re too soft. I will be a strong leader, one who can make those tough decisions. You should thank me, Pual. You will be the Prime Minister who everyone loved and mourned the death of, as a hero and someone who truly loved his people, while I’ll be the Prime Minister who everyone hated because I was the one who sent innocent people to their deaths, but ultimately saved the planet. And when the people realize that the Hammer Cannon was a Vyysarri attack, they’ll cry out for blood and revenge. The cause will have renewed strength and conviction, and we will push harder than ever to end the Vyysarri threat forever.”
“You’re so selfless,” Puar growled.
“I know,” Trall said, his smile becoming more sinister. “What can I say, Pual? I’m a giver.
Now, if you’ll excuse me?”
A space-worthy shuttle was waiting for him on the platform when he got there. He climbed in and ordered the pilot to break for orbit as soon as he had clearance.
Once he arrived at Orbital Station 12, he marched straight to the commander’s quarters and sat in the chair. He had relieved the current commander of his duties for the time being. He activated the com systems and overrode the systems communication broadcasting channels.
Every Net’Vyyd, com unit and any other communication device on every planet in the Seryys System broadcasted Trall’s image and voice. When he spoke, his even tone was impeccable and he put on his best derjik face. Trall’s ability to bluff during any game of derjik was legendary. It had served him well over the years no matter what kind of hand he was dealt, both in games and in politics.
“My fellow Seryysans,” he started, feigning deep sorrow. “Three days ago, SCBI’s Chief Medical Examiner, Ran’Dell Rashad, died in my arms, an unfortunate allergic reaction was to blame. Even sadder was the information with which he presented me.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, it is my most upsetting and sorrowful duty to inform you that the bodies found in the Prime Minister’s personal shuttle were those of Ralm’Es Ra and…” he faked choking back tears, “Prime Minister Pual’Kin Puar. Our hearts and prayers go out to their families in this time of great emotional turmoil. Though I can never replace Prime Minister Puar, it is my most profound honor to succeed him. As of oh-eight-hundred hours, today, I have officially taken my place as Commander in Chief of the Seryys System and all outlying colonies.”
“This is a dark time for Seryys. The Vyysarri knocking at our front door weekly, slum gangs terrorizing out streets, our greatest hero, Colonel Khai’Xander Khail, dying in the line of duty, are only a small taste of what we face. But I know that the resolve of our great society is strong; stronger than the Vyysarri savages, stronger than the slum gangs and stronger than our heroes. I know, as Seryysans, we can come together and overcome any obstacle. I am a patriot. I live to serve the people of this great nation. And I will personally take the Vyysarri threat head-on. I am giving you my solemn oath that the Vyysarri monsters will be eliminated. That is why I am mobilizing a major offensive against the Vyysarri as soon as our forces are consolidated.”
The Seryys Chronicles: Death Wish Page 10
