Darklanding Omnibus Books 10-12: Hunter, Diver Down, Empire (Darklanding Omnis Book 4)

by Scott Moon

  “You see there, Sheriff Fry, I am able to pilot a ship.”

  Thaddeus chose not to comment on the dubious claim. He moved to the cockpit and took the controls. He circled back to the fortress and used a crowd control loudspeaker to address their leader. He didn’t bother to mention his gun was out of ammunition. The negotiations went surprisingly well. Once he had convinced them to lay down their arms and promised a generous parole for their immediate compliance, the incident was almost easier than his apprehension of Ugly Joe Nebu and his crew.

  He doubted Shaunte would thank him for this apprehension either. The flight back to Darklanding seemed to take a lifetime as he cataloged the injuries he hadn’t felt during the gun battle.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  It was dark again by the time Thaddeus reached the Mother Lode. The only patrons were unconscious, heads down on tables or pressed into the corners of the room like they were trying to die. Pierre sat at his table smoking, playing solitaire, and doing the books. When Thaddeus headed upstairs, the proprietor cleared his throat.

  “Where do you think you’re going? Up to see her?” He laughed rudely as he exhaled smoke and tapped ashes from the ancient vice. “I wonder how welcoming the Company Man is when roused from a deep sleep. Maybe she’s not so frigid for you, but I think…”

  “Not interested in your opinion, Pierre.” Thad battled his way to the top. His legs protested as though he had run back-to-back marathons. His spine felt like it had been cranked by a jujitsu master. He had no idea how he accumulated all this fatigue and injury. The obvious wounds were the massive, bone-deep bruises where the body armor he wore under his coat had deflected bullets and blaster bolts. He tried not to imagine what would’ve happened if he’d been standing still and taken the full brunt of the assaults.

  His knuckles were scraped and he had a knot on his head, probably from diving for cover during the firefight. “Be honest, Fry-man,” he muttered at the top step, “you know why you’re so tired.” Sleep called to him with its siren song, but he needed—wanted—to see Shaunte more than he wanted anything.

  The hallway appeared longer, narrower, and the ceiling lower than he remembered. Someone had dimmed the lights and activated the nearly invisible LED strips on each side of the carpet cheap hotels used as a safety feature. He felt off-balance and could hear his heart beating, and not in a good way. This was the dreamlike sensation of being injured, sleep-deprived, and run into the ground from the impossible work schedule and the high-stress job. Only his training and his overall stubbornness kept him going. Maybe he knew his military career was over at this point, and he was trying to fill a void in his sense of purpose.

  Something was wrong. A small red light blinked under the doorknob of Shaunte’s private suite. In his condition, it took him several seconds to understood what that meant. She’d locked the door.

  He stood in front of it for several seconds struggling with decisions. The hallway seemed even darker now than when he first emerged at the top of the stairs. The thought of her answering the door in her night clothing with her hair a mess tantalized him, but he knew they’d probably have a fight. At this stage in their relationship, it was impossible to predict how she’d behave when roused from slumber. And she’d been working harder than he had. Part of his soldier ethos was to never disturb someone from a much-needed rest. He stood with his eyes closed, rubbing his temples as though that would help him make a decision. Eventually, he went downstairs and sat at the bar.

  ***

  “You want to drink now?” Pierre asked. He put out his cigarette and walked behind the bar to the coffee machine barely visible from where Thaddeus sat.

  “I didn’t know you smoked.”

  “I don’t. Some yahoo came in here, didn’t have money, said he could pay me with these for a while. Now I ‘enjoy’ them as I do the books. Calms the nerves. Gives me something to live for.” He poured himself a cup of coffee, then brought Thaddeus a shot glass of watered-down whiskey.

  Thaddeus took a sip, elbows leaning heavily on the bar.

  “Get some sleep, Sheriff.”

  “You ever been so tired you can’t get to sleep?”

  Pierre sipped his coffee. “I’m standing here looking at you, aren’t I?”

  Thaddeus turned his attention to the shot glass and wished he had a team of professionally trained deputies, or better yet, a platoon of his TerroCom soldiers to put Darklanding in order.

  The sound of Dixie’s high heels coming down the stairs echoed in the quiet saloon. She pretended they weren’t watching her, acting for all the world as though the auto-piano was playing and her girls were working a crowded room. When she slid onto the bar stool next to him, she affected mild surprise at seeing him here.

  “Well, Thaddeus. I’m glad to know you’re working hard to find Tigerlily,” she said.

  Pierre shook his head and left the conversation in favor of his ledgers.

  “What is it with you and this girl Tigerlily? It’s not like she’s the first to run off. That sort of thing happens when you run a brothel in a broken down, back galaxy mining town.”

  “I’m afraid something’s happened to her. Normally, I can get at least one of my girls to admit to seeing her or even knowing where a runaway is. Tigerlily seems like she’s fallen off the planet,” Dixie said.

  “Might not be far from the truth. She could have had money, like Ruby. Went home to mommy and daddy crying and begging for forgiveness.”

  Dixie rolled her eyes. “No one has money like Ruby Miranda Vandersun. But that’s not my point. I think that jackass who wants to be your deputy has something to do with it. He fits the description—tall, dark, and ugly, and way too confident.”

  “I’m tired, Dixie. Pretty banged up from this last arrest.”

  She pulled open his coat and traced the bruises around his neck and upper chest with one finger. “Oh, my poor man. I’ll fix you up, make you forget your pain and worry. Right after you get Tigerlily back.”

  “Dixie! Stop.”

  She reached behind her back and pulled out a small, expensively slim data tablet and placed it on the bar. “I have proof this time. And I hired a couple of out of work minors to watch the apartments to be sure she didn’t leave or get moved by whoever kidnapped her.”

  Thaddeus studied the picture of a small, Asian woman that was far too beautiful for a place like Darklanding. He instantly wanted to help her. “What the hell is she doing working at the Mother Lode?”

  “You know her?”

  He shook his head. “No. I was just commenting on the picture. She looks at peace, not so desperate. It’s hard to see her as the victim of anything, and I can’t imagine many of the men who come in here having the courage to approach her.”

  Dixie shrugged and stared off for a moment, suggesting to Thad that he was right and that she wasn’t a very good employee of the Mother Lode. That fact alone made him want to help Dixie find her. Maybe, for once, Dixie’s heart was in the right place.

  “Do you know the address of this place in the picture?” he asked.

  She nodded vigorously.

  He motioned for her to lead the way, then tripped and nearly fell as he dismounted his barstool.

  “Looks like I need to put more water in that whiskey,” Pierre said, then went back to his ledgers.

  “It’s going to be a long night, Fry-man,” Thad muttered.

  ***

  “We’re only checking this one place,” Thaddeus said, trying to keep up with the short, curvy madam.

  “Agreed. Then I’ll take you to the Mother Lode and nurse you back to your full vitality,” she said, then stopped across from a relatively new block of prefabricated, two-story apartments. Planting both hands on her hips, she thrust her chin toward the place. “She’s in there.”

  Thaddeus spoke to each of the men watching the apartments. Dixie had gone all-out this time, posting a man on each corner of the building.

  “How much is she paying you?” Thaddeus asked the questi
on to ascertain how diligent these four men had been in their duties.

  “She told me a hundred credits,” the first man said. “Which I’ll probably never see, but I’ll be a VIP at the Mother Lode and that means a complementary bath with two girls at once, plus a steep discount on…”

  “I get it. Tell me about who’s been coming and going.”

  “No one.”

  “So you’re watching an empty building.”

  The man shook his head. “See that light up in the corner apartment on the second floor? I’ve seen somebody moving in that one. Probably a woman. Probably a woman I’d like to meet.”

  Thaddeus decided not to ask for further details. The man’s imagination could be running wild with so many quiet, boring hours spent watching nothing.

  Dixie crossed her arms. “Satisfied?”

  “Wait out here. If something goes wrong, find Mast and tell him to shoot first and ask questions later,” Thaddeus said.

  “Wouldn’t you rather I call Sledge for this kind of thing?”

  He looked at her. “Is he on the planet?”

  “I don’t think so. I haven’t heard from him for days. He’s not returning my calls or my messages,” she said, looking down somewhat forlornly.

  “You are really wearing me out, Dixie. Don’t suggest Sledge might be able to help me and tell me you don’t know where he is or how to contact him. I’m really too tired for this. And busy. And I’m only half-convinced Tigerlily is in danger. She probably just wants to get away from your craziness.”

  Dixie stepped back, throwing one hand to cover her mouth. “Well! If that’s the way you feel, why didn’t you just say so? This will be the last time I ask you for help!”

  “Promises, promises.” He went inside without looking back. Pausing at the front, he radioed Mast and advised his half-asleep deputy of his current location.

  “I am muchly asking why you are telling me this,” a sleepy Unglok voice said through the tinny speaker.

  “Just a precaution. How is Maximus?”

  “Sleeping, farting, and healing, I am thinking. Tell me, Sherriff, have you figured out what this Heart Stone is that Mister Do-not-trustman has muchly spoken about?”

  “Not a clue. And it isn’t a high priority right now. Get some rest. When you come back on watch, I’m going to sleep for half a day.”

  “Yes, Sheriff. I am already back to sleep. Thanks for waking me with the bigly annoying radio.”

  Like the Mother Lode, it was dark inside with only a minimal amount of lighting, but instead of floor illumination, each door had a small bead of luminescence above. He moved to the elevators, looked at them, and wondered at it for several seconds until he realized it was a maintenance elevator to move heavy items. Why else would such a thing be needed in a two-story building?

  He was too tired for this. The moment he had his hands on Tigerlily, he’d make sure she wanted to go back to the Mother Lode, turn her over to Dixie, and get some sleep. His scalp tingled from the cheap whiskey and whatever endorphins his body was producing to keep him going.

  There were no lights in the stairwell, a clear safety violation. The door at the top stood open to reveal an even darker hallway. He stopped. Something wasn’t right. This felt like an ambush. Backing away from the door, he also moved sideways so he wasn’t in the same location as he had been when first coming up the stairs. Anyone shooting at him without night vision would have to get extremely lucky.

  Downstairs, the service elevator chimed. He heard footsteps and quiet voices. Someone shined a flashlight, then quickly turned it off.

  Thaddeus lifted the radio close to his lips, press the talk button, and whispered, “Mast.”

  Time passed.

  “Mast.”

  “Is this a human tradition of waking up your friends in the middle of the night when they are muchly dreaming of tigi?”

  “I need you to start heading my way. Bring my shotgun and wear your body armor.” He turned the radio off before his deputy could reply. The blocking team on the first level were at the foot of the stairs now. He knew they were a blocking team because they didn’t come up. Their only purpose was to keep him from escaping whatever was about to happen.

  His tablet vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it for as long as he could, then glanced at the text message thinking it must be his deputy asking for further instruction. The idea of reading the message filled him with dread, because the Unglok’s written version of Galactic Standard was about ten times as bad as his spoken version.

  To his surprise, it was a note from Zane Trustman. “Your deputy just ran past my room at the Mother Lode carrying shotguns. Do you need help?”

  Thaddeus hesitated, then pushed the thumbs up emoji that was as old as digital communication. Slipping his small tablet into a coat pocket and touching the radio to make sure it was off, he crept silently into the second-floor hallway to put distance between himself and the men at the bottom of the stairs.

  None of his options were good, so he decided to get what he had come for.

  A sliver of light glowed from underneath the corner apartment door. He studied the handle and the lock in the darkness. All he could make out were indistinct shapes he suspected belonged to a door. Going by feel, he opened it.

  “Interesting,” he said as he pushed it open.

  “Intruder! Intruder!” the alarm blared. Lights came on. He was blinded and deafened at the same time. Two men rushed him, slamming him to the ground.

  “Get on the ground! Do it now!” a voice yelled.

  Thaddeus allowed himself to fall, but held onto both attackers, jamming one foot into each of their guts and pushing with his legs as they all rolled together. Using their own momentum, he continued backward and flung them into the wall. They landed hard, the weight of their body armor increasing the force of their impact with the doorframe.

  The men, professionals by the sound of them and the way they fought, recovered quickly. Adrenaline blasted through his veins, but he knew it couldn’t last. It pissed him off to think one bad decision had put him in a fight he couldn’t win. His only hope was that these men didn’t feel like killers.

  He’d been wrong before, of course.

  One of the men who sounded like big city cops moved to the right and aimed a blaster humming with deadly energy. The other laughed and aimed an electronic stunner, and ancient standby of law enforcement professionals.

  Thaddeus grabbed the hem of his coat and yanked it upwards just in time to catch the metal probes as they flew toward him. The wires attached to the electronic device crackled and popped. Everyone moved. It was like they were in a big circle dance, but it was clear each of them strove for the advantage.

  The cop with the charged blaster kept his distance, and that was fine with Thaddeus for now. The man hadn’t shot him, so he didn’t want to get into a blaster fight at this range and with these odds. The cop with the less-lethal device slapped a new cartridge on the front of it like an infantryman sliding on a bayonet. All the while, they moved—circling and lunging too fast for witty conversation.

  “Wait,” Thad said, flipping his blaster so he held it pointed down with his finger nowhere near the trigger.

  Electronic probes streaked across the small foyer.

  Thad yanked up his coat, catching one. The other probe stuck into his shoulder, stinging mightily. Without the other probe to complete the circuit, the charge wouldn’t incapacitate him. He’d learned that much from his online police science courses. Cursing, he swept his blaster barrel across the thin wire, breaking it and eliminating any chance of a full connection.

  “Wait! I just came to check on the girl. If she’s safer with you, that’s fine. I was told she was kidnapped.”

  The cops, or whatever they were now, held their weapons on him and spoke in lightning quick Japanese.

  “You are a witness. There is too much dishonor,” the blaster cop said.

  “You’re going to kill me because I know she worked in a whorehouse? Listen, b
uddy. A lot of people know what she’s been doing here.”

  “No. That is incorrect. Zane Startraveler sent us a message. She has not disgraced herself yet. Lies and betrayal brought her to this place.” The man’s accent seemed to grow thicker the more he spoke.

  “That’s bullshit, Ricky,” came the voice of Tigerlily from the apartment. “I had the same job for your father, just wore nicer dresses.”

  A furious argument in Japanese slammed back and forth with Thad in the middle. Both men became angrier and angrier. Two more cop/house guards came from downstairs. They wore heavy armor, state of the art gear that would put one of his battlefield TerroCom soldiers to shame.

  More arguing in Japanese. Before long, all four men and the young woman he’d come to save were screaming at each other, save for the young man with the blaster who had calmed down and now seemed content to stare at the affair malevolently. He might have looked like a kid to Thad, but he was a killer, contrary to his initial assessment.

  “Everyone shut up,” the young man said. He hadn’t raised his voice, but silence took the room almost immediately. “Maybe killing this sheriff won’t erase your shame, Tigerlily.” He sneered her Mother Lode name like it was an insult. “But maybe his death will make you think twice before you run away again. You are my father’s mistress, and someday mine, and you will never leave us.”

  “That’s it,” Thaddeus said. “You’ve gone and pissed me off.”

  He flipped his blaster around, dodging sideways as he found the trigger and stroked it repeatedly. His first volley of energy struck one of the heavily-armed house guards and flung him backward into the hallway. Return fire shredded the walls and blew out the windows.

  He sprinted into a side room, one hand working his radio. “Mast! What’s your ETA?”

  “I will be there muchly quicker than expected. The man who I don’t trust is giving me a ride in his muchly small and agile airship,” Mast said, his word seeming to bounce up and down as he spoke. “Maximus isn’t coming due to his extreme fear of flying.”