Renegades (The Progenitor Trilogy, Book Two)

by Dan Worth

  Chapter 12

  Beyond the bridge windows, the lush moon of Orinoco revolved slowly, half lit against the backdrop of stars and the bilious bloated orb of the gas giant, Tethys. The lights and reflected glints of Orinoco station and the traffic milling around it glittered faintly against the moon’s night-side.

  Chen brooded as she pondered the scene. It had been several hours since she had discreetly despatched the team of operatives down to the planet and so far they had not been in touch. All that time the Churchill had lurked here, just off the shipping lanes in high orbit, waiting for a clue as to the location of their quarry.

  She cursed silently. Isaacs had slipped under their radar because of a filing inconsistency of all things! Commonwealth archives had contained little except the bare facts about his military record and the fact that he had been rescued by the Arkari from an unknown alien vessel, with a following description from the Arkari ship. The records relating to the alien ship hadn’t been accessed for over a decade. When querying the Arkari records she had found that the details were highly classified with only War Marshal Mentith and Fleet Meritarch Beklide being granted access. Later, when she’d spoken to Mentith he hadn’t even realised that the record existed; it had simply been swept into a vast data store with thousands of other records that may or may not pertain to Shaper activity, awaiting analysis. He had been rather angry about the whole affair, she recalled, though more at himself and his intelligence experts than anything.

  A fucking filing error! Of all the things…

  Still, at least Isaacs appeared to have survived his ordeal without being made a host for one of those things. However, she needed to make sure and she needed to talk to him. She had to know what he had seen aboard that ship.

  Chen knew she had to find him quickly, but the galaxy was a big place to lose someone in, particularly if they didn’t want to be found. They’d tried the same network of contacts that had been used to hire Isaacs in the first place, but he hadn’t been seen since taking the mission. She had decided to pick up the trail where they’d left him, here in the Achernar system.

  ‘Admiral, there’s a communication from the team coming through,’ said Ensign Andrews at the comm. station.

  ‘Put it through,’ Chen replied impatiently. Had they found something, she wondered?

  There was no image, only the voice of the team leader buzzing in her earpiece, his voice a little hard to make out against what sounded like the background noise of a busy office.

  ‘Commander Blackman here Admiral, we’re at the Bolivar Police headquarters at the moment. We’ve had a lead of sorts. We pulled all city security records from the date we dropped off Isaacs and his ship until today. We ran his name and appearance into a search engine and succeeded in tracking his movements after he landed. It turns out that he wasn’t here long.’

  ‘Interesting. Could he have found another job perhaps?’

  ‘We’re not sure. The city security network filmed Isaacs walking from the spaceport across town to an alley in one of the older districts. There was no record of what he did in the alley, since the net doesn’t extend there, but we did find that it contains a bar by the name of Mulligan’s. A few hours later he was again filmed leaving the alley, with another man that we haven’t identified yet. Both men got into a ground car and made their way to a building in the San Cristobel Boulevard, one of the more fashionable areas of town. The local police managed to obtain the building’s own security records for us. Isaacs and the other man made their way up to the thirtieth floor of the building and entered an office rented by a front company believed by the Bolivar City police to belonging to the Sirius Syndicate.’

  ‘Shit,’ Chen swore. ‘Isaacs is mixed up with gangsters? I take it we don’t have anything from inside the office itself?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. Isaacs didn’t stay long though. He left looking decidedly angry and returned to his ship almost immediately. He stayed there until the repairs that we paid for were complete and then he left the system. The destination he logged doesn’t correspond to the trajectory taken by his ship as he jumped. It looks like we lost him.’

  ‘Alright, thank you Captain,’ said Chen. ‘Good work. I think we’ll pay the Sirius Syndicate a little visit. I’m intrigued to know what our friend Mr Isaacs was doing associating with them, especially since our background check indicated nothing of the kind. Continue your investigations, Chen out.’

  She cut the link and swore again under her breath. So much for their information on Isaacs, this was turning into one almighty fuck up, and she’d have to take responsibility for that. But first, there was more immediate business to attend to. She’d see to this one personally.

  Bennett stood at the window of his office, looking out over the glittering night-time lights of Bolivar City. Tethys dominated the sky, hanging heavy behind the scattering of clouds. Everything he saw below him was his, not in any formally recognised sense of course, but he owned it just the same. He had but to pull the strings of his web from here and his will was answered. Local officials were bought off or coerced, businesses bribed or blackmailed, and the police were in the palm of his hand. There were enough bent cops on the Syndicate’s payroll to keep him informed and to make sure a blind eye was always turned to his activities. It was they who had let it be known that the military were sniffing around the city, poking their noses dangerously close to several of his more… interesting business concerns. Rumour had it that they were interested in Isaacs. Had that worthless little fuck tipped somebody off? Maybe Laurence had screwed up. Bennett hadn’t heard from him in some time. It was starting to worry him.

  He didn’t like it. His clients definitely wouldn’t like it. There had been very specific instructions to avoid military entanglements. Maybe he was being paranoid. Perhaps it was merely a coincidence that his businesses had been touched upon by an unrelated investigation? All sorts of dodgy dealings went on in Bolivar City, and not even Bennett knew about all of them. But then again, paranoia was a healthy condition to have in his position - it had ensured his survival so far and he saw no reason to give it up.

  There was a flare of light on the horizon as another ship lifted off from the spaceport. Bennett watched it climb until became too faint to follow.

  In the street outside a small, dark haired woman stepped out of an unmarked AG skimmer and walked into the building’s entrance, her long coat swishing behind her in the warm breeze. A security guard at the desk in the atrium inside attempted to check her progress, but swiftly fell silent when he saw the team of local police and a squad of heavily armed Special Ops troops swarm into the building behind her. As the woman reached the lift and pressed the call button, the police took up positions in the brightly lit space, whilst the soldiers made for the emergency stairs, their gear rattling as they scurried towards them.

  A police captain stepped up to the desk, flashed his ident card at the bewildered security guard and instructed him to shut down the building’s security systems.

  Bennett heard something: the sound of raised voices from the reception area outside his office. He walked over to his desk terminal and opened the intercom to listen, using his other hand to slide open a desk drawer and grab the heavy laser pistol inside as he listened to Rachel arguing with an another person: a woman’s voice. She had an officious tone and was demanding entry. A fucking cop, no doubt. She sounded like a cop, with that sarcastic tone. This ought to be good. She must be a new one, one he hadn’t bought off yet. He checked the video feed and saw a small woman with collar length dark hair, dressed in a long coat, arguing with his receptionist.

  She was either stupid or suicidal if she thought she could barge in here. He tried the video feeds from the building’s security network and found himself locked out. This was not so good. He needed to remain calm. He sat in the padded chair behind his desk and tried to look as relaxed as possible, placing the gun back in the drawer – but leaving the drawer open and the gun within reach.

  The door was
shoved open and the woman strode in. Rachel, his receptionist, followed in her wake protesting loudly, then apologised to Bennett as the woman marched over to his desk and stopped. Bennett quieted Rachel with what he hoped was a casual wave of his hand, then shooed her away. He composed his finely sculpted features and gave the woman a casual smile. She was quite pretty, he thought. He’d always had a thing for oriental chicks. It was a shame he might have to kill her.

  ‘And what may I do for you tonight, officer…’

  ‘Admiral Michelle Chen, if you please,’ she answered coldly.

  Bennett felt his heart sink. Shit. The rumours had been true after all. She was military.

  ‘I represent the Navy’s Special Operations Command. We’re currently conducting investigations into the whereabouts of a freighter captain that we’re interested in and you are going to tell me everything I need to know.’

  Bennett disliked people barking orders at him. It was not an experience he was used to.

  ‘Special Operations Command? I haven’t heard of that one,’ he snorted.

  ‘No. I don’t suppose you have,’ she said in a matter of fact manner.

  His current clients had been exceptionally insistent that all military entanglements be avoided until the Isaacs assignment was complete. They had been quite explicit about the important of this.

  He had to get this woman out of his office somehow.

  ‘Now listen here,’ he snapped. ‘Unless you have a warrant or something you can just go and fuck yourself. You don’t have any authority here.’

  ‘Oh I assure you, I do have the authority to arrest you if you obstruct my investigations. Warrant or no, our jurisdiction extends across the Commonwealth and beyond. Liaising with the local authorities was just a matter of courtesy.’

  He swivelled his chair so that he could better reach the gun without making it so obvious. He tried to look unruffled, but felt himself sweating.

  ‘Admiral… listen. I don’t think you understand the situation,’ he said in a patronising tone. ‘You see, it isn’t those petty little bureaucrats down town who run Bolivar City, it’s me. See? So why don’t you get the fuck out of my building and out of my city, or you’ll never leave here in one piece. Is that clear enough for you? I’ve never heard of this guy anyway, so get lost.’

  ‘I never mentioned his name.’

  Bennett cursed inwardly at his slip-up.

  ‘Yeah? So fucking what?’ he snarled. ‘You think I give a shit?’

  The door behind Chen banged open and four of Bennett’s thugs charged through it, pistols already gripped in their meaty hands.

  ‘I think it’s time we cut our meeting short Admiral, don’t you?’ he sneered, grabbed the pistol from its drawer and fired.

  The laser reflected off an invisible energy field inches from Chen’s skull and burned a hole in the ceiling.

  Bennett gaped in amazement. Fucking hell, he thought. She was carrying Arkari tech.

  ‘Wrong move Mr Bennett,’ said Chen calmly, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile.

  Bennett saw the door behind his men burst open and a squad of black-clad Special Forces troops threw themselves through it. One of his men took a shot at the first man through the door, missed and was cut down with swift return fire. The other three had the good sense to throw down their weapons and put their hands up.

  Bennett screamed something incoherent and attempted to fire at Chen again with similar results. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair! She stood smirking at him, then drew a long barrelled automatic pistol from the pocket of her coat, flicked the safety off and pointed it at his head as the squad commander reached her side.

  ‘I think it’s time we had a little chat, don’t you Mr Bennett?’ Chen said and arched one eyebrow. He looked up at her and seemed to her to be at the point of trying to say something.

  Suddenly there was sharp crack. Bennett’s head burst open, showering Chen with blood. Gurgling, his eyes transfixed with shock, he fell forwards onto the soft carpet. Chen looked immediately to the window behind Bennett. A small hole less than a couple of centimetres across had appeared in the glass at the centre of a star pattern of cracks. The Special Ops commandos were already moving into firing positions. The team’s sniper had brought his rifle up, and balancing it on the balcony rail, was training it at another skyscraper almost half a kilometre distant.

  But their quarry had already gone.

  Her office was silent save for the soft humming softly of the ship’s systems as Chen sat and contemplated failure. Twenty decks down in the Churchill’s secure lab, Mr Bennett’s corpse was being held under very tight supervision.

  It was just as well that she’d had the presence of mind to activate that Arkari personal shield, she pondered grimly. Otherwise Bennett and his thugs really could have killed her there and then. On reflection, her decision to confront him herself was foolish, but she hadn’t really expected him to react so suddenly and so violently. The commandos had been waiting in the building’s emergency stairwell as backup, and had swung into action as soon as she’d mashed the button on the emergency beacon in her coat pocket. But still, it had been a stupid risk. If they’d had EMP weapons the shield wouldn’t have been much use. The medic on the scene had been unable to save Bennett’s life. The bullet had entered the back of his skull and had blown most of his brains out of the front.

  Chen knew that the Syndicate and its members, despite their nefarious activities, tended to avoid conflict with the authorities if they could help it. It was too conspicuous, bad for business, and tended to bring swift vengeance down upon their operations. It puzzled her as to why Bennett had been so swift to turn on her. It had seemed to Chen that Bennett had been terrified by her presence. He’d obviously panicked as soon as she’d entered the room. The file on Bennett had revealed much about his vicious character, but he was not known for irrational or sudden violence. He was more the cold, methodical type. His behaviour had been grossly out of character, but the autopsy on his body had found no signs of Shaper infection. She needed to find out why. She needed to salvage something from what was fast becoming a catalogue of disasters.

  The local police had scrambled squads and set up road blocks in an attempt to catch Bennett’s assassin, but they had been unsuccessful, although a high powered rail rifle had been found on the roof of the nearby skyscraper. Sadly, it had been found to be clean of any prints or DNA evidence. The identity of Bennett’s assassin, as well as the motivation for his odd behaviour remained a mystery. A number of Syndicate members had been arrested in the building and operations were currently underway to bring a number of others in for questioning, but so far no-one was talking. The Syndicate’s power structure in the system had currently been thrown off balance, but Bennett would no-doubt be replaced sooner or later. As an organisation it was depressingly resilient to disaster.

  Chen needed a lead of some kind. There was some kind of link between Isaacs and the Syndicate, but what? The trail had gone cold, though the mere fact that someone was prepared to kill to prevent her establishing what the link was between them troubled her. There was something else going on here, but there was nothing they could do until Isaacs turned up somewhere, if he turned up alive at all. She had sent an update to Mentith regarding their progress, or rather their lack of it.

  Chen had hoped to catch the Profit Margin in the system and use the Churchill’s speed to their advantage, but it wasn’t to be. She’d clearly misjudged the situation and now their only lead was dead. Defeat rankled with her, but there was little she could now. She would file what they knew and hoped others would have more luck than she and her crew had. She hoped Haines wasn’t about to chastise her too heavily.

  ‘Admiral,’ said the voice of her second in command over the ship’s comm. system. ‘We have some information I think you should see.’

  Her first officer, Commander Haldane was currently on watch. Haldane had been chosen by her personally, as had the rest of the senior officers and bridg
e crew, some of whom she had transferred from the survivors of the Mark Antony, her previous command. Haldane’s record was impeccable and he was tipped for a command of his own some day, despite his relatively young age. In many ways he reminded her of her younger self: aggressive, ambitious and career minded. There was something about him though. On a personal level she didn’t exactly see eye to eye with Haldane. There was a certain arrogance and lack of creativity to his thinking. She had wondered if she was being unfair, resenting him because of his youth, his drive and ambition, and because he wasn’t Al Ramirez.

  That had been another mistake; to fall for someone she was serving with, a subordinate. It could have cost her her career, and Al’s death on Maranos had affected her deeply, perhaps irrevocably. In many ways she had no regrets about their relationship, but she felt empty now, dead inside. Something within her had died that day along with his passion and vitality. The Shapers, ultimately, had caused his death, by unleashing those horrors through the Maranos portal. She would make sure that they paid for that and for what they had tried to make her do.

  ‘Put it through to my desk,’ she said to Haldane smartly.

  ‘Very good Admiral,’ Haldane replied.

  A second later and a window of text blinked into existence in front of her. It was a docking bay record from a Nahabe run trading station in the Quralish system on the borders of Commonwealth space. The record listed the ship, along with its image, registration, time of arrival and departure, captain, passengers and name. The ship’s final destination was not listed however. It was Isaacs’ ship, the Profit Margin. Chen felt a sense of elation.

  ‘Where did this come from Commander?’ she asked.

  ‘Intel put out a search request for Isaacs and queried all docking records within his possible sphere of travel. We got lucky. Normally the Nahabe wouldn’t have come under this search, being a separate sovereign power, but the station is a conglomerate of modules run by various powers but under the aegis of the Nahabe. All Commonwealth dock records are therefore submitted to us.’