Hostile Territory

by T. L. Knighton

  As if waiting for a cue, another vehicle—a small, compact transport that could hold about four people if they were really close friends—turned onto the street they were traveling on, and slammed into their van. Hard.

  Only moments later, the sonic crack of a railgun round sailing around their vehicle pierced the air.

  “You had to say something, didn’t you?” Cody growled. “You just had to open your mouth.”

  Cody returned the favor to the other vehicle by slamming the other transport, using the van’s superior weight to send the car into the corner of a nearby building.

  Before Tommy could breathe a sigh of relief, several other vehicles swung in behind them. Passengers in each popped out of the cars and began firing at the van. One of the first volley shattered the window in the back of the van and sent Tommy sprawling into the floor.

  “Chafing deermo!” he yelled as he collapsed onto the metal flooring.

  For a split second, he wasn’t sure what to do until the fog of the sudden threat faded a bit. He pulled his Capella and worked his way toward the back of the vehicle. A quick glance showed that Harley was already returning fire out his passenger’s side window.

  Tommy popped up and took a quick shot, knowing he’d miss. Yes, he was less than spectacular with a handgun, but this time he knew he’d miss because he wasn’t really aiming at anything.

  Instead, he was trying to get a look at what they were up against.

  That’s the last time I relax until a job is chafing over. The. Last. Time.

  Yes, he blamed himself. No, it wasn’t rational. Yes, it did make him feel a bit better about the situation.

  Again, he popped up and snapped off a couple of shots. They weren’t particularly well aimed, but that was intentional. Instead, he focused on the windshield of the vehicles, hoping to obscure the drivers’ vision. If he happened to score a lucky hit on someone, well, so much the better.

  His shots were answered with a hail of rounds piercing the thin metal of the van’s exterior, sending Tommy back to the floor.

  “Son of a sooka!” he growled to himself

  He spared a quick glance toward the front of the vehicle. Of what little he could see, Cody was doing everything he could to evade as many rounds as possible, while still being stable enough for Harley to pop off a few rounds that might actually hit anything.

  Tommy needed to think. Harley was far better with a pistol than he ever had been, and Cody was behind the wheel, but he was a schemer. He needed to figure out a plan of action.

  Carefully, he pushed himself up to get the lay of the land.

  Rounds still came, but they were slower than before, despite Harley still taking shots.

  Tommy took the chance that he’d be able to fire off a couple and raised his Capella. Carefully, he aimed for the windshield and squeezed the trigger. At that moment, Cody swerved to his right for some reason, swinging Tommy’s already shaky aim to other direction just as he fired.

  The round slammed into the hood of one of the pursuing ground-effect vehicles. For several second, nothing happened, then a huge fireball erupted from the car, blowing it to pieces and sending debris—now better termed as shrapnel—ranging out in all directions…including into two of the other vehicles.

  That left just one pursuer. Tommy knew they should be able to avoid this one since it was already damaged from the collision with the van earlier.

  While the passenger continued to shoot at them, a hatched opened up in the top. Moments later, a figure appeared in the opening, a large weapon of some sort. From Tommy’s obviously less than ideal vantage point, it was difficult to identify but it looked like a Markesan Model XXII Auto-rail.

  And Tommy had thought he’d been having a bad day before that moment.

  “Harley!” he yelled. “We got bigger problems!”

  The other man looked back. Tommy saw the man’s eyes widen. “Deermo,” Harley mouthed, a sentiment Tommy agreed with completely.

  What happened next, however, Tommy wasn’t so sure about.

  Harley looked at Cody and yelled, “Brakes!”

  The engineer obliged without question as Harley snatched the wheel, putting the van in a slide, skidding sideways.

  Once the van was perpendicular to the following hostile vehicle, he put his weapon out the window and took aim.

  For long, excruciating seconds, nothing happened as Tommy’s eyes became locked on the man with the Markesan.

  While Tommy was surprised by the maneuver, the Markesan man was even more startled by it. This was evidenced by the slack-jawed, wide-eyed expression that delayed him bringing the deadly auto-rail up to his shoulder.

  This was not a good career move for the thug.

  The distinctive scratch-and-pop of a railgun round sliding down the barrel of Harley’s weapon ripped through the sudden silence only a split second before the projectile punched a hole into the Markesan man’s forehead, another hole in his head regardless of any need.

  Seizing the moment, Tommy popped up from the concealment of the van’s side and began emptying rounds into the now stopped pursuit vehicle.

  Moments later, Harley’s weapon joined the chorus of destruction and they began pumping the other vehicle with rounds until Tommy’s weapon ran dry. He dropped down and affected a quick magazine change.

  When he sat back up, he thrust his weapon out before assessing the situation. More to the point, the complete lack of situation.

  The vehicle sat directly on the ground, nothing keeping it hovering which indicated at least one round had disrupted the power supply. Inside, the last two pursuers sat slumped in their seats, the manner looking so uncomfortable that it was unlikely they’d assume such a position on a whim.

  Tommy took a deep breath, his hands starting to shake from the adrenaline dumping out of his system. Slowly, carefully, he focused on his breathing as he heard Harley say in a voice so calm it was terrifying, “Let’s get out of here.”

  Cody nodded and fired up the van.

  Harley looked back and said, “Nice shot on the power system. How did you know where to aim for that?”

  “I was aiming for the driver,” Tommy admitted sheepishly.

  Chapter 12

  The trio parked the van a bit further away than normal but entered the normal gate. They’d prepared a story in case they were questioned as to where the vehicle was, planning on saying it broke down but a friend was taking care of it.

  Of course, that simply meant no one asked as they entered the dock district.

  Typical.

  The carefully made their way back toward Sabercat doing everything they could to pretend they had not, in fact, been involved in a traffic collision followed by a running gun battle through the streets of Armstead City.

  Nope. Not them. Must have been some other off-worlders captained by a well-known scion of a political and business empire and being escorted by a huge former Marine that exuded everything the Corps stood for and an Asian human fireplug. Any resemblance was completely coincidental.

  The long, tense minutes ticked by as the three crewmates made their way to the ship, eventually reaching Sabercat.

  For the first time since the three had left Atticus Kane behind and the first vehicle slammed into them, Tommy felt like he could breathe freely.

  As he stepped onto the ramp, he looked around.

  Adele entered the cargo bay via the main hallway.

  “Where are we?” he asked, praying the moment he’d finished that that wouldn’t be the moment Adele decided to embrace smart remarks.

  “We are ready, Captain,” she replied, thankfully. “We are only waiting for Mary and for the lock to be disengaged.”

  Tommy nodded and said, “Alright. We had a hot time getting back, so I want everyone ready to rumble in case it becomes necessary. They are not getting this data back.”

  Heads nodded their agreement as people made their way toward the armory.

  ** ** **

  Mary looked at the clock. It was
time.

  She turned and looked at Winston and said, “I’m going to do ship inspections.” She didn’t mean to allow her earlier annoyance to color her words, but they did.

  The supervisor’s eyes widened as he nodded quickly, mumbling something that sounds like enthusiastic support for the idea.

  Either way, she didn’t stick around. Instead, she turned and walked out, taking a small bag with her.

  Ordinarily, this might have elicited comment, but Mary had timed this intentionally. Late enough in the day and the assumption would be that she’d simply do her inspections, then head home for the day. Since the inspections would be handled on her pad, the data would be uploaded automatically, so no paperwork to actually file. No muss, no fuss.

  She strode down the hallway and out the door into the warm sunlight. She couldn’t help but feel like it was different this time, which was true. If all went well, this would be the last time she’d step out into the sunlight of this particular sun again.

  If things didn’t go well, then it might still be the last time she would step out into sunlight, all be it for a different reason.

  In theory, she knew where Sabercat was berthed, but that wasn’t a great deal of help. She normally didn’t operate in that area, so finding that particular berthing would be problematic. Especially since the numbering over there tending to get…interesting.

  As she approached, she was relieved to see only one ship that met the description Adele had given.

  The relief was instantly replaced with a sense of anxiety as her mind began to question everything. She’d put her life on the line in a literal sense for people she barely knew. Yes, Adele was gorgeous, but that didn’t mean she was trustworthy. Further, she didn’t know anything about the captain, though he shared a name with some rich kid from Earth. Would he be a man of his word?

  Doesn’t matter at this point, she thought to herself as she stepped closer and closer to the ramp.

  Standing between her and the interior was a young-ish man who looked rather familiar, though leaner and more muscular than the celebrity he resembled. The weapon slung from his hip also added a noted contrast from his sort-of-doppelganger.

  The man looked at her and said, “Can I help you?”

  He had a hard wariness, like he expected her to transform into some kind of monster and devour him. Since he was armed, this was concerning to say the least.

  She flashed a smile and answered, “Yeah, I’m Mary Gilbert and I-”

  As soon as her name escaped her lips, he relaxed and smiled back, then interrupted, “Oh, it’s great to meet you. I’m Tommy Reilly, the skipper of this boat.”

  Wait…he’s got the same name as the guy he looks like? No way.

  As if seeing her brain putting pieces together, his smile warmed and he answered, “Yes, that Tommy Reilly…assuming you know who I am. If you do, please don’t hold that against me.”

  She chuckled as he stepped aside and welcomed her onboard.

  ** ** **

  Tommy followed Mary, showing her a cabin she could stow her meager belongings in, then made his way to the bridge where Adele was checking everything for dust-off for the millionth time.

  “Your friend is here,” he said.

  She jerked her head to look at him, her expression making it clear that the normally stoic pilot wanting to ask something.

  Tommy decided to spare her and said, “Go see her, but we need to be ready to dust off as soon as the lock is released.”

  She smiled and scurried out of the cockpit, then rushed past him and off the bridge.

  He considered checking behind his pilot, but knew it would be wasted. Adele knew her trade as well as anyone could.

  Instead, he gazed out the forward view of the ship. Sabercat was alone on this section of the spaceport, which meant large swaths of plascrete between the ship and the gate. It was odd to him that such an isolationist place would have such a large spaceport.

  Sure, they’d accepted trade readily enough, but there weren’t enough people on the planet to warrant a spaceport so large. Even a complete evacuation, dusting off with every citizen of Armstead, wouldn’t warrant a spaceport like this one.

  His woolgathering dissipated when he noticed a couple of security vehicles pull up outside of the spaceport’s gate. Then a couple more.

  Suddenly, Tommy wondered just how clean their getaway had been.

  He already knew everyone was heavily armed, but now he was afraid they were going to need it.

  Pressing the boat’s intercom, Tommy said, “We’ve got company. All crew except essential flight personnel, report to the cargo bay immediately!”

  Of course, the phrase “essential flight personnel” meant Adele. A case could be made for Michelle, but that wasn’t until they broke atmo. If what he thought was happening actually was, he’d need the hacker for more than that.

  As he released the button on the com, he bolted toward the cargo bay himself, coming out on the catwalk above the cargo space.

  When he arrived, the rest of the crew, minus Adele, stood waiting. Cody and Harley had pistols strapped to their hips and rifles in hand. Michelle was also armed, though the look she gave her pistol made it clear that she wouldn’t be the most useful in this fight.

  “Michelle, how long until the lock is released?” he asked as he made his way down the stairs.

  She looked at him as he made his way down and blinked for a moment, her eyes wide. She was out of her element and she knew it. This job had already put her in harm’s way once, and now it was going to do it again.

  It took a heartbeat or two for her brain to catch up to event apparently, but she soon pulled out her pad and looked at the time. “Twenty minutes.”

  Tommy nodded.

  “Alright, that’s how long we have to hold, then. We don’t have to do anything else except keep Sabercat in sailing trim and keep them off her deck,” he said.

  Focusing on Michelle again, he asked, “Can they change the lock? Do something so the script doesn’t work?”

  She shook her head.

  He nodded again and finished his descent.

  “Harley, let’s get these crates moved,” Tommy barked.

  The first officer nodded and motioned for Cody to give them a hand.

  While they were technically running empty, they usually had a few empty crates on hand. It helped land jobs, oddly enough. After all, the crates conveyed the notion that someone already trusted the crew of Sabercat with cargo.

  Right now, however, the thick plasteel of the cargo containers should provide some decent cover.

  One of the advantages of plasteel happened to be that it was light, like plastic, but was as strong as steel. That meant the three of them could lift and move a couple of crates into place. Tommy didn’t let anyone think about the fact that there was a crane that normally moved these things—it was meant for moving these same crates loaded with any manner of goods, after all—and instead focus on what they were doing right now. Besides, the crane was slow and noisy. As it was, he was hoping the security personnel massing outside wouldn’t see their preparations.

  With everything in place, they hunkered down and waited for the assault with Tommy having the best vantage point on anyone who might try and move toward the aft of the boat.

  “How serious do we want to take this?” Harley asked.

  It was a fair question. On one hand, these guys didn’t really do anything to him and his. On the other, they represented an oppressive government and would probably be more than happy to kill every last person aboard Sabercat. Decisions, decisions.

  Finally, Tommy said, “We shoot to hold our ground. We can’t button up and wait out the lock, so we do just enough to keep them focused on this area as much as we can.”

  “Excusez moi? You want them to focus on the part of the ship with us in it?” Michelle asked, fear making her voice squeak.

  Tommy couldn’t really blame her.

  “Won’t they puncture the hull if they are shoot
ing this way?” she asked.

  “No,” Harley replied. “Nothing they’re carrying can breach the hull. We’ve got two feet of high-density alloy between us and them.”

  “Then why not just close the doors?” she asked. “Then we can just wait it out.”

  “If we’re in here, they can hit the engines. Then we’re stuck right here.” Tommy replied as gently as he could.

  Michelle was the only so-called “criminal” on the crew convicted of a violent crime, and in that she killed a family member. European justice didn’t take kindly to self-defense as a reason, so she did some time in the slam.

  However, just because she was capable of taking a life, it didn’t mean she was comfortable with a firefight. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel bad about what was pretty natural.

  Frankly, the only reason his pants weren’t wet was because he’d gone just a bit before Mary had arrived. You can’t void what you don’t have in you.

  Michelle nodded her understanding and took her position, her pistol shaky in her hands.

  Tommy smiled to try and comfort her.

  A look outside showed the security team moving forward, weapons tucked into shoulders and moving low. Each step was placed to keep the upper body on an even plane.

  “They’re coming,” he said.

  “Is it me?” a voice asked.

  Tommy turned and examined the speaker. Mary’s eyes were wide and her whole body seemed to shake like a chihuahua on stims. She made Michelle look calm, amazingly enough.

  “They’re here for me, aren’t they?” she asked.

  “We’re not sure,” he answered. “They haven’t tried to communicate, so they could be here for the data chip we picked up earlier today, or they know you’re on board.”

  “I left too early,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  Tommy shook his head and chuckled. “It’s not your fault. Better to be here early than late, after all. Don’t worry. We’ve got this.”

  The Armsteadian nodded and left the bay as silently as she entered.

  After she was gone, Harley asked, “Do we have this?”