Mission Critical

by T. R. Harris

  Sherri turned to Adam to see how he was doing.

  The remaining three pirates in Adam’s contingent were now on the deck, two silent and still, with another moaning and crawling toward one of the couches in the common room. Adam was on his feet, bloody, bruised and aching.

  “That should have gone easier,” he said. Angry and frustrated, Adam stepped over to Sherri’s knife victim and withdrew the blade from his lifeless body. He made quick work of the five wounded pirates. They couldn’t leave any witnesses.

  Adam and Sherri looked at each other and laughed. They were cut, bruised and covered in blood. Fortunately, there were plenty of pirate uniforms around, either in lockers or on the bodies of the non-bloody dead. Adam and Sherri cleaned up and then changed into the pirate uniforms.

  The outfits were quite stylish, consisting of charcoal gray tops with a wide swath of black accenting the garment. The pants were also black and made of a flexible elastic fabric. They were comfortable and allowed for freedom of movement. Adam wondered if Riyad had designed them….

  Adam picked up several of the flash weapons scattered about the deck and reactivated their firing circuits. The Humans had just taken on twelve aliens in hand-to-hand combat. Another fifty or so awaited them at the money truck; however, with them they could use their MKs. Adam would disable the alien’s weapons before they made their move. After that it would a headlong, guns a-blazing assault on the truck.

  Riyad made it down the stairwell of the ten-story building without incident. Kaylor—who had ducked into a side corridor when Angar and his large entourage of uniformed pirates entered—met him near the guard station.

  “This is the being I have been expecting. Thank you, we shall now proceed to the meeting.”

  Kaylor used his ATD to communicate with Riyad in private.

  I saw a cart and a container on top when the pirates passed by. It could be the collector, he thought.

  Good, we’re in the right place.

  But there are so many of them, Kaylor thought, worry evident in the emotions Riyad could sense in his mind. He didn’t want to get flippant with his alien friend and make some boastful remark about the more the merrier. Kaylor was nervous enough and wouldn’t see the humor in it. Instead: It’ll be okay, Kaylor. I’ll look after you.

  Belsonian and Human hurried down the same corridor Angar had passed through moments before. The pirate’s large contingent could be heard through several floors, making them easy to follow. It took all the elevators and two loads each to move them all to the fifth floor, where the elevators stopped.

  Riyad and Kaylor ran for the stairs, but just as they entered, Riyad called them to a halt when he heard more noise coming from behind. He looked out the stairwell door as another horde of aliens filled the corridor. But these were different aliens, not pirates. The ones in the front wore expensive white suits, while the guards behind sported leather and metal uniforms, all brand new and tailored. These would be the Maris-Kliss people, strutting down the hallway like the owned the place. For all Riyad knew, they did.

  He and Kaylor hurried up the stairs.

  18

  Adam and Sherri’s uniforms provided camouflage in the deepening gray of night. They moved among the silent starships to get closer to the truck and the surrounding sentries. Adam began the process of disarming the weapons, which included a handgun for each guard plus a Xan-fi flash rifle. There were other crewmembers at the landing bay ramp, but they were unarmed. Each weapon had to be individually targeted, and Adam was about half way through when the unexpected happened.

  The truck drove away.

  Adam had a moment of panic. He scanned the electronic components of the truck for a way to stop it. He had plenty of options. The problem: he’d never disabled a truck before, and certainly not so he could repair the damage quickly, allowing Sherri and him to drive off in it after disposing of the driver. As a consequence, the Humans stood helpless as the truck continued along its journey unimpeded.

  They began to run, moving parallel to the truck, but a row of spaceships away. They believed they were unseen in the gray uniforms but apparently someone in the huge MK starship saw them and raised the alarm. Two dark figures, running along with the truck full of credits, looked suspicious enough for the guards to spring into action. The ones whose weapons still worked moved into position and opened fire.

  Flash bolts splashed off the hard ground of the landing field, as well as the metal surfaces of the spaceships around them. Adam found it hard to run, dodge incoming balls of plasma and concentrate on disabling Xan-fi rifles all at the same time. And then the side of a starship to their right exploded from a brilliant flash cannon bolt. The two Humans were thrown to the ground by the concussion, setting the left arm of Sherri’s uniform on fire. Adam rolled her and patted out the fire.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah…hurry, it’s getting away!”

  The truck was at the spaceport exit and turning north along the frontage road. Sherri and Adam got to their feet and raced off again, dodging another powerful flash cannon blast from the huge MK starship. Obviously, the aliens didn’t care what they had to destroy to stop them.

  The wall along the north side of the spaceport was ahead of them; Adam lowered a shoulder and crashed into it. He bounced back, dazed. However, his added strength and Human durability had managed to break away the mortar holding the concrete blocks together. The wall caved outward but not completely. Adam recovered, and with Sherri adding her weight, they hit the wall again. This time a hole opened up and they stepped through.

  There was a road running along the north side of the spaceport that connected to the main one along the east face. If they hurried to could get to the frontage road before the money truck raced by.

  Humans in Woken gravity could run about forty miles per hour. The truck, on the other hand, could only manage about thirty in the tight confines of the city street. Adam ran ahead of Sherri. He detected the approaching truck through his ATD and timed his leap perfectly.

  Adam planted himself on the cab of the truck, his body covering the left side window, his hand gripping the roof. He smashed a knee into the glass and then flung himself inside. The driver was sitting at a central control station with the joystick control held in both hands. There were three guards in seats behind him, each fumbling with their flash rifles, wondering why they weren’t working. Adam went after the guards first.

  He threw his body into them, with a fist driving hard into the face of the first alien in the row. Next he placed a hand on the head of middle guard and shoved it into that of the one next to him. Both aliens slumped over, dead or unconscious, Adam didn’t care which. He turned his attention to the driver.

  The alien panicked and steered the truck into a parked transport on the right. The truck lurched to a stop, throwing Adam forward and into the front windshield, shattering it. He was now on the hood, with the driver hitting him with a metal club he found somewhere in the cab. It was having an impact, until Adam crawled back into the cab and caught the driver with a solid right cross to the chin. The alien fell forward, and into Adam outstretched hands. A quick twist of the head and the driver’s neck snapped.

  A flash bolt shattered the right side window, barely missing Adam as he ducked behind the door and scrunched down on the floor of the cab. More bolts filled the small compartment.

  Adam reached out with his ATD and detected six active flash weapons, three on each side of the truck, being fired by the six aliens who had been riding in the back, guarding the money. He only got two disabled before he heard bolts being fired outside that weren’t reaching the cab. He cautiously poked his head over the threshold of the shattered window.

  Sherri was there, armed with a Xan-fi rifle she’d taken off one of the guards. Coming up behind them as they concentrated on Adam in the cab, she was firing point-blank, eliminating the threat.

  “Get in!” he yelled as the last guard fell. He opened the door, tossing dead aliens out to make room for
Sherri. She slipped into the back seat while Adam took the controls. He put the truck in reverse and backed away from the crunched transport in front of them and, then steered to the left, continuing along the frontage road, moving past the set of four buildings where the other part of the operation was taking place—hopefully.

  They had the money truck. Now all they had to do was get the dark matter collector and then move everything off the planet.

  Copernicus! Adam called through his ATD.

  Here.

  We have the truck. Get airborne and move north by the pirate’s spaceport. Watch out for the MK ship; they’ll shoot at anything they think is part of the attack.

  Were to?

  Don’t know yet. There has to be some place you can land up ahead. Just be ready when we find one.

  Roger. So you got the money?

  We got the money—

  Adam suddenly went pale. He pulled back on the accelerator and brought the large truck to a stop.

  “What are you doing?” Sherri asked in a panic. She knew MK forces were right behind them.

  “Just making sure.”

  He jumped out of the cab and ran to the back of the truck. He hopped onto the covered bed and ripped off the lid to one of the crates designed specifically to transport sensitive Juirean credits. The chips and their embedded electronics were susceptible to various kinds of radiation and had to be shielded. He was rewarded with the sight of tightly banded stacks of light green Juirean credits—the twenty-five thousand denomination chip. He placed the lid back on the box and reentered the cab.

  “What if the crates didn’t contain credit chips?” he said to his confused companion as he engaged the transport and moved off down the road. “We’ve been assuming that was an MK ship, and not just a group of pirates with a cargo of expensive dresses stolen from a planet somewhere in the Frontier. That would have sucked.”

  “So…do the crates contain credits?”

  Adam looked over his shoulder and cast Sherri a shit-eating grin. “Yes, ma’am, they most certainly do.”

  Riyad, we got the money, Adam called out through his ATD. How you doing?

  You don’t want to know. Adam could literally sense the stress in his voice.

  What’s going on?

  19

  What was going on was a major firefight in a hallway of the administration building. On one side were the forces of Angar; on the other the MK troops. Word had come through regarding the attack on the cash truck, and the MK executives, suspecting a double-cross, had ordered their forces to take out Angar’s and secure the dark matter collector.

  Riyad and Kaylor had just moved into the hallway from the stairwell, silently moving up behind Angar’s pirates, when the shooting started. A couple of dozen MK troops in their tailored uniforms appeared from behind and opened fire. Not knowing whose side they were on, both sets of fighters targeted the pair, as well as anyone else not part of their tribe. Riyad pulled Kaylor into an alcove leading to a maintenance closet, where they were now huddled while flash bolts streaked past in both directions within the corridor only a foot away.

  Riyad was busy locating and disarming flash weapons, but there were so many of them that it was going to take a while. But inexorably, the volume of bolts began to drop. There was shouting and confusion from both sides. Riyad targeted the MK shooters first since there were a lot more of them than the pirates. Angar’s troops would help take out the now defenseless menagerie of corporate aliens. When the pirate’s weapons fell silent from his efforts, he and Kaylor stepped from their hiding place and began to fire at those guarding a particular door off the corridor.

  Alien eyes opened wide as they recognized Riyad. Many dropped their now-useless weapons and ran up the hallway, abandoning their guard duty. Others dropped to their knees and bent forward, surrendering to Riyad.

  With his jaw firmly set with anger and determination, Riyad hurried past the penitent pirates and smashed through the door.

  Two uniformed aliens were near a table across the room, fiddling with their inert handguns. Although neither was Angar, Riyad focused all his rage on the pair.

  That’s when he caught a heavy metal rod across his nose and eyes. He was moving forward at the time, and his feet kept going as he head was forced backward. He fell hard on his back, his vision nothing but gray as he fought to remain conscious.

  His eyesight cleared quickly, in time to see Angar appear from his right, holding a long pole with a colorful flag attached to one end. Beyond the pirate captain was a whole set of flag poles, all held like six-foot tall flowers in a pot against one of the walls of the room.

  Angar flipped the pole around, until the sharp end of the pole was pointed at Riyad’s chest. The Nimorian growled, displaying a full-tooth snarl, which to this particular race of alien meant a death challenge. He lifted the pole, preparing to impel Riyad with his deadly spear—

  A brilliant flash blinded Riyad momentarily. When his vision cleared, he saw a perfectly round black hole smoldering in the center of Angar’s chest, his eyes open and wide with shock. The pole toppled forward, with the pirate’s body right behind it, draping itself over Riyad’s.

  He shoved the dead alien away and wobbled to his feet. Someone took his arm and steadied him. It was Kaylor.

  “Damn…thanks!” he said.

  “You are welcome. But hurry. The two pirates have fled, but the MK fighters are cautiously approaching.”

  Riyad was still groggy and he believed his nose was broken—his once perfectly shaped nose, which was an integral part of his stunningly handsome face. He turned to Angar’s body and gave it a swift kick. “You asshole! This better heal up right.”

  “Riyad!”

  He returned his attention to Kaylor.

  “It is not here!”

  “What’s not here?”

  “The collector…and Angar is dead.”

  The words sank in. Riyad scanned the room in a panic. There were only a couple of chairs, two tables and the pot of flagpoles. But no dark matter collector. There were, however, two doorways set in the walls to the left and right on the other side of the room.

  They each ran for a door. Riyad opened his and looked inside; just more furniture, but no dark matter collector.

  “I have found it!” he heard Kaylor call out.

  Riyad ran to the room. As Kaylor had said, the suitcase-size device with the encircling shielding screen was there, along with the bag holding the two cube cases. He took everything in his arms and moved them into the outer room, setting his load down on one of the tables.

  He bent over and picked up the two flash weapons the pirates had discarded. He tossed one to Kaylor…who fumbled the device and then dropped it. Aliens didn’t have very good eye-to-hand coordination.

  “These will work now. Take out the MK people when they come—”

  His instructions were cut short when five sophistically-dressed alien fighters pressed their way through the doorway. Two made it in, while the other three became stuck. Kaylor began to fire, spraying the room with flash bolts, killing three of the MK troops before draining the 10-shot battery pack in his weapons. More aliens were at the door.

  Riyad pressed the other MK-17 into Kaylor’s hand, making sure he had a good grip before releasing it. The Belsonian grinned and then opened fire again. He aim was getting better, but not much. This time he still had two shots left when the aliens retreated.

  “Do you know much about these dark matter cubes?” Riyad asked his alien friend.

  “Only that they are dangerous if ruptured.”

  “Adam said they can be broken.”

  “That is what the Gracilians told us.”

  “And the blast radius if one breaks?”

  “I do not understand all these questions, Riyad. The MK troops are still outside.”

  “We need to destroy the evidence to make it look like the pirates and MK fought it out and the DMC was destroyed in the process.”

  “You intend to use a cube to set
off a…an annihilation event, they called it?

  “How big of a blast radius?” Riyad asked impatiently.

  “The Gracilians indicated a half-mile impact,” Kaylor reluctantly answered.

  “Great! That will take out these buildings and the south end of the spaceport. Wham bam and suddenly no witnesses and just a lot of guessing. Perfect.”

  Kaylor wasn’t sold on the plan. “And how do you intend to break the cube and not kill us in the process?”

  Riyad looked around the room. That was a good question. An explosion might be enough to break the containment material, but he would need a timer or a remote control.

  Then it hit him.

  Riyad rushed to the doorway and picked up two of the inert flash weapons before tearing a strip of fabric from the uniform of a dead alien—there were plenty of them lying about. He returned to the table and took out one of the cases from the bag. He removed a cube and placed it between two MK-17s before wrapping them together with the piece of cloth. Moving to the pot of flagpoles, he placed his contraption in the vase where it couldn’t be seen. Even if someone came into the room after they left, they would have no reason to be looking for a bomb, particularly in the pot of flags.

  “I do not understand,” said Kaylor.

  “We block the power feed and then fire the weapons with our ATDs. Kaboom…a big explosion and instant black hole.”

  “We have to be far enough away.”

  “We’ll only set it off when we are. Don’t worry. Just hope the explosion is big enough to break the cube.” He loaded his arms up with the DMC and the satchel. “Take point; we’re leaving.”

  “Point?”

  “The lead, my friend. Lead us out of here.”

  With his arms full of dark matter paraphernalia, Riyad followed Kaylor into the outside corridor. There weren’t too many aliens left; only three plus the two white-suited executives. Kaylor approached in their direction and they retreated a few steps.

  “You will regret your actions,” said the tall, six-armed alien.