Bounty Hunter at Binary Flats (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 4)

by John Bowers

  “What’s wrong with marriage? If you already love each other, then it’s the next logical step.”

  “I know, but it’s also just a formality. I’m already married to him in my heart, and I think he feels the same way. The commitment is what’s really important. The rest of it is just a legal blessing by the State.”

  She smiled.

  “Come on, let’s get over to the boutique. I need to relieve Mildred.”

  Centauri Springs – Alpha Centauri 2

  Nick loaded all his gear into the hovercar and let his room rent expire. He might or not be coming back to the au’tel, and would rent another room if he did.

  “We gonna take both cars?” Nathan asked. His rental was still parked a few yards away.

  “Yeah, probably a good idea. How much gear do you have?”

  “Just some clothing and the usual stuff. Plus ammunition.”

  “Good. Hope you don’t need the ammo, but you can never have too much.”

  “What’s in the blanket?”

  Nick laid his bundle on the seat of his car and unrolled it. Nathan’s eyes widened when he saw the .29 cal.

  “Where the hell did you get that? That isn’t agency issue.”

  “No. This is a murder weapon. Vanov was carrying it. It’s a modified version of what some of the cultists used in the war.”

  “So Vanov is—was—connected to the revolution?”

  “Yep. He admitted as much. You ready?”

  “Ready.”

  With Nick in the lead, the two hovercars cruised slowly out of town, then turned toward Prater Canyon, keeping low. Ten minutes later the canyon came in sight, and Nick circled it at a hover, keeping a careful eye out for any activity. After a slow circuit he turned and cruised down the center of the canyon, scanning the ground with his hovercar’s radar. No large vehicles or other large objects appeared on the sweep; satisfied, he turned and cruised toward the area where he and Cybele Gannon had encountered Vanov and the Childers brothers. He set down fifty yards from the stream and shut down his turbines. As he stepped out of the car, Nathan settled a few yards away.

  “This the place?” Nathan asked as he dismounted.

  Nick nodded, his senses alert. He drew his laser pistol and held it ready, just in case.

  “I didn’t pick up anything with the radar sweep,” he said, “but I’m not taking any chances. Small objects on the ground might not register.”

  “You think they left something behind? Booby traps?”

  Nick nodded again. “I wouldn’t put it past the bastards to rig Childers’ body, if it’s still here. Keep your eyes open.”

  Nathan scanned the area and drew his .45. He followed as Nick made his way toward the picnic spot.

  Nick took his time. With each step he not only scanned his surroundings, but the ground as well. The flora in this part of the canyon grew in clumps, saplings and various bushes, many of them over his head. There was no clear line of sight to where Vanov had killed Childers—the spot was perfect for an ambush.

  “Do you have an IR scanner?” he asked Nathan.

  “Not with me. Didn’t think I would need one.”

  “Too bad, we could really use one right now. You know, you should always keep one with you. You just never know when you’ll need it.”

  “Then why don’t you have one?”

  Nick grinned. “No excuse.”

  “Me neither.”

  Moving slowly, it took them ten minutes to cover the fifty yards. They encountered no one. When the stream came into view, Nick stopped and dropped to one knee. He pulled a small binocular from a pouch on his gunbelt and made a slow sweep. He spotted the trees where he and Cybele had eaten their lunch. A few feet to the right, right where Nick had left him, lay Tom Childers. Nick pointed and Nathan nodded. Both men felt an increase in their pulse rate.

  “Vanov is gone,” Nick said in a quiet voice. “No surprise, but I was hoping they left him behind.”

  “How many of them did you see?”

  “I just saw the sled, couldn’t tell how many were on board. But it wasn’t a big sled, so it couldn’t carry more than two or three people.”

  “Two people plus a body?”

  “Most likely. Okay, I’m moving up. You stay here and cover me. If you have to fire, don’t hit me.”

  “No worries. I’m an expert shot.”

  Nick grinned. “I remember.”

  He stood up and moved forward, laser pistol still in hand. At this point he didn’t expect trouble, but one could never tell. Booby traps were still a possibility.

  He reached the murder scene without incident. He found blood soaked into the sand at the point where Cybele had killed Vanov, and saw drag marks where the body had been moved. He followed them a few yards; they ended abruptly, and he saw clear imprints made by the landing skids of a hoversled. He knelt and studied the marks a moment, then pulled a small camera from his belt and snapped a few digitals. The distance between the impressions offered a clear idea of how big the sled was, and it matched his visual impression of the day before—a small sled with a limited passenger capacity.

  A gunsled.

  He waved Nathan forward and they approached Childers’ body. Nick pulled a hand-held metal detector from a pouch on his gunbelt and waved it over the body. The only result was a quiet beep when it passed over a key ring on the dead man’s belt.

  “No booby traps,” Nathan said.

  “None made of metal. They could have used something with a ceramic casing.”

  “Shit. I wish you hadn’t said that.”

  “The Rukes are devious bastards.”

  Nathan grimaced. Nick knelt beside the body and moved his hands over it, gently feeling for anything out of the ordinary. Finding nothing, he slid his hands underneath, carefully, alert for any objects that might be trapped under the body. Unable to detect anything, he glanced up at Nathan.

  “I’m gonna turn him over. Move back a few yards, just in case.”

  “Is that safe?”

  “No. That’s why I said move back.”

  Nathan got to his feet and walked about thirty feet away, then knelt again.

  “Get down flat and face the other way. If I trigger an explosion, you don’t want to lose your eyes.”

  “What about your eyes?”

  “It won’t matter. I’ll be dead.”

  A moment later, when Nathan was ready, Nick rolled the body onto its back. Nothing happened. Birds twittered and the breeze stirred the trees…all was quiet. Nick let his breath out in relief.

  “All clear.”

  Tom Childers no longer looked threatening. Most of his blood had dried or soaked into the dirt. His eyes were half open and glazed, his face matted with sand. The shape of his head was slightly distorted by Vanov’s three bullets, but the exit wounds were smaller than Nick had expected.

  Nick studied him a moment. Childers had probably planned to kill him, but now he was no threat to anyone. Nick felt no particular pity for him, but couldn’t help wondering what turned a man onto a course that ultimately led him to this kind of end. He’d seen it before, of course, and knew he would see it again, but…it never made much sense.

  He stood. Nathan approached and gazed down at the body.

  “What do we do with him? We can’t just leave him here, can we?”

  “I’ll contact Camarrell and they can send someone for him. He’ll be okay here for another day.”

  “What’s next?”

  “I was hoping to find something that gave us a clear idea where Vanov and that gunsled came from, but they took Vanov with them. All I know at this point is that it probably came from south of here. We’re going to have to make a trip down that way and see what we can dig up.

  “But first, we have unfinished business here. How long will it take you to do that bank research?”

  “Couple of hours, maybe. I can do it with my pocket ‘puter.”

  “Okay, why don’t you jump on that. I’ll call Camarrell about this body
, then we’re going to go see the senator.”

  ***

  Six hundred yards away, on the east rim of the canyon, a Watcher lay flat among scattered boulders, peering through electronic glasses. The glasses not only enhanced the image of two Federation lawmen bent over the body of Tom Childers, but also picked up, faintly, their conversation. The Watcher didn’t move until Nick and Nathan left, then keyed a satellite phone.

  “Walker and his friend just left the canyon. They inspected the body, but left it where it was.”

  The Watcher listened a moment, then nodded.

  “Will do. I’ll keep you posted.”

  Chapter 16

  Gil Prater Estate – Alpha Centauri 2

  Nick and Nathan arrived at the hilltop estate shortly after noon. After parking their vehicles in the driveway, Nathan gazed in wonder at the grounds and the view in all directions.

  “Man, this is some setup!” he told Nick. “Maybe I should have gone into politics.”

  “I hear there’s a lot more money in it than law enforcement,” Nick agreed. “Trouble is, you’re an honest man.”

  “You think the senator isn’t?”

  “He’s a politician, isn’t he?”

  Nathan stepped to one side as Nick rang the doorbell; thirty seconds later, Michael Smith opened the door. He was wearing ivory-colored silk pants and a loose, filmy shirt with feathers sewn into the collar. He beamed at the sight of Nick.

  “Welcome back, Marshal! I was wondering if I would see you again.”

  “Hello, Michael. Is the senator home?”

  “Yes, he’s out on the patio. Come in, please.”

  Michael’s eyes widened as Nathan stepped into his view.

  “Omigawd! You brought another one!”

  Nick turned with a grin. The expression on Nathan’s face was priceless.

  “Michael, this is rookie Marshal Nathan Green. He’s been assigned to help me out for a few days.”

  “Well that’s just wonderful! He-llo, Nathan! Welcome!”

  Michael extended his hand and Nathan stared at it, then took it gingerly, as if it might be radioactive. Michael pulled him gently through the doorway, talking non-stop.

  “Where did you get your outfit? I asked Marshal Walker but he won’t tell me.”

  “I, uh—” Nathan made an effort to control his shock. “I picked it up in London.”

  “On Terra? You’ve been to Terra?”

  “Yeah. That’s where the U.F. Marshal Academy is located.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know that. Well come in. Maybe you can give me a web link or something. I simply must have one.”

  “Yeah, sure. I can do that.”

  As they passed the dining room, Nick picked up the unmistakable aroma of a Mexican style lunch; his mouth watered. Michael led them to Gil Prater’s study and asked them to wait.

  “I’ll go get the senator,” he said.

  When they were alone, Nathan caught Nick’s eye.

  “Why didn’t you warn me!” he whispered.

  Nick fought to keep from laughing. “Don’t be such a homophobe. You’ve never seen a gay man before?”

  “Of course I have. Several men at the Academy were gay, but they didn’t talk like that. Or dress like that.”

  “Michael marches to his own drum. But don’t sell him short—from what I’ve seen, he actually runs this place.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep. Butler, business manager…I don’t know what else. He’s pretty sharp.”

  Nathan didn’t look convinced, but fell silent as Gil Prater stepped into the room. Michael wasn’t with him. Prater headed straight for the wet bar.

  “Marshal Walker. Care for a drink?” He began to pour.

  “Nothing for me, thanks.”

  Nick introduced Nathan. Prater shook his hand, then handed him a shot glass.

  “Sorry, sir, it’s a little early in the day for me.”

  Prater’s mouth clamped shut and he set the glass on an end table.

  “For later, then.”

  Prater turned back to Nick.

  “Have a seat. You have information for me?”

  “I think so.”

  Nick settled onto a sofa and Nathan stood to one side, facing both men. Prater picked up his drink and stood by the bar, waiting.

  “Where’s your daughter, Senator? I rather expected she would be here.”

  “No idea. She took off early this morning and I haven’t seen her since.”

  Nick nodded. “I’d like to ask you a question, if I may…when you decided to report the wanted poster, why did you call me? Camarrell has a U.F. Marshal’s office, and it’s a lot closer than where I live in Trimmer Springs.”

  “I thought I explained that already. Your reputation precedes you. I wanted the best.”

  “Is that the only reason?”

  Prater frowned. “What are you getting at? What other reason would there be?”

  Nick changed the subject.

  “The wanted poster is a fake. I’m reasonably certain you aren’t in any danger.”

  Prater looked surprised. “Are you sure?”

  “Reasonably certain. I found no evidence to suggest that the poster is real.”

  “Then it was a prank.”

  “Maybe. Or harassment, which is still against the law, but not necessarily life threatening.”

  “Thank you, Marshal. That is a relief.” Prater set his drink down. “Have you had lunch yet? I think Luisa has some Mexican food in the oven.”

  “I noticed that when we came in. Smells really good.”

  “You’re welcome to sit down with us.”

  “Thanks, but I do have a few other questions first.”

  “Certainly. What do you need to know?” Prater settled on the edge of his recliner and rested his elbows on his knees.

  Nick tilted his head toward Nathan.

  “Marshal Green has been doing some research for me, background stuff. And he found something that you might be able to explain.”

  Prater’s brow furrowed as he glanced from one man to the other.

  “What sort of something?”

  “Nathan?”

  Nathan shifted his weight and pulled out his pocket ‘puter. He peered at the screen.

  “Twelve years ago, almost thirteen, actually…in the summer of four thirty-one, I found seven transactions that raised some questions. Wire transfers off-planet to a couple of banks in Periscope Harbor on Centauri B.”

  “Wire transfers are fairly common. What’s the problem?”

  “Yes, sir, but these are for some really large amounts, in the tens of millions. Interestingly, they’re all under fifty million terros, but just barely.”

  “I don’t understand. Why is that of interest?”

  Nick cocked an eyebrow. “Because transfers under fifty million are ignored by Federation financial audits.”

  Prater’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your point?”

  “Where did those transfers go, Senator? Who received them?”

  “If you’re looking at the records, then you already know that.”

  “No, sir, we don’t. Both accounts were numbered, with no names attached.”

  “Why is that suspicious? And why are you asking me?”

  “It’s your bank, sir, and it’s suspicious for three reasons—first, the account that transferred those funds is registered to Alpha Financial Investments, which is a phony corporation—it doesn’t exist. Have you heard of it?”

  “I don’t remember. You said there were three reasons.”

  Nick nodded. “Number two, the amount of those transfers, which totals over two hundred million terros, is ten times larger than any other transaction conducted by your bank since it opened.”

  Prater shrugged. “So we had a wealthy depositor. Why is that my problem?”

  “Number three…these transfers took place over a span of four months, and just days after the last one, the cult revolution kicked off.”

  Prater’s eyes harden
ed. His face began to fuse red. When he spoke, he was breathless with anger.

  “Do you think I had something to do with the revolution?”

  “I’m looking at some facts that are curious, to say the least. I thought you might have some input on the matter.”

  Prater stood abruptly and paced across the room, then turned to glare at Nick and Nathan.

  “I am an elected member of the Colonial Senate!” he shouted. “How dare you suggest that I am disloyal to Alpha 2!”

  “I’m not suggesting that, sir, but you have to admit this evidence is highly conspicuous. If the news media got hold of this, they might draw all sorts of conclusions.”

  “The news media! Are you threatening me?”

  “Not at all. But the fact that you think I am also raises questions.” Nick pointed at Prater’s recliner. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what you know about these transactions?”

  Prater stood a moment longer, trembling, then took his chair again. It took him a moment to find his voice.

  “Thirteen years ago,” he said, “I was still new to the Senate. I was in my first term, still feeling my way, learning the ropes. I didn’t have time to get involved in treasonous affairs, and I wouldn’t have in any case. In case you’re not aware of it, the cult revolution came within a few miles of Centauri Springs before the Star Marines could stop them. If they had reached us, they would have burned my estate and destroyed everything I hold dear. For religious people, they were awfully violent.”

  “Can you explain these transfers?”

  “No, I can’t. It was thirteen years ago! Do you remember what you were doing thirteen years ago?”

  “Yes, sir. I was in high school. Three years later I was here, fighting against the cults.”

  “Well, you may be too young to understand this, but I remember details about high school a lot better than I remember what happened yesterday, and thirteen years ago falls somewhere in the middle. As you get older, details run together in your mind.”

  He relaxed a fraction and sat back in the chair.

  “I don’t work at the bank, Marshal. I own it, but I don’t run it. I have a bank president and a board of trustees who take care of the details. I show up for the annual meetings and sometimes for the Christmas parties, but that’s about it. Except for a few friends, I don’t know the depositors or how much money they deposit. Any other questions?”