by G J Ogden
The thug pulled Hudson up and punched him twice to the head and body, but he was no stranger to street brawls either. Blocking the next strike, he then landed a low blow, before driving his knee into the nose of the man, as he bent double. The crunch of bone and cartilage was unmistakable.
Hudson quickly turned back to the rear door of the parlor, and saw another waste container just to its side. “Help me move this!” he called over to Tory, while running over to the container. Together, they hauled the heavy object in front of the door, a split-second before fists began to hammer against it and angry voices filled the air.
Tory slapped Hudson on the back, “Let’s move!” she cried, before charging off towards the transitway.
Winded and gasping for breath, Hudson followed as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t quite keep pace with Tory. “Are you sure you’re not a damn robot, like Morphus?”, wheezed Hudson, wondering where she got her strength and stamina from.
“I’ve just had more practice escaping from Council goons than you have,” Tory called back, as she slid to a stop at the edge of the side road.
The transitway, like the spaceport, was oddly deserted, but Hudson spotted a large, black ground transit parked about ten meters away.
“There, we can take that!” he called to Tory, pointing over to the vehicle. Then he ran, but Tory suddenly shouted out to him.
“No, Hudson wait!”
Hudson slid to a stop, meters from the transit, then the side door slid open. Four suited Council goons piled out, each carrying sub-machine guns. There was a crash from behind and Hudson glanced back, seeing that the waste container had been pushed from the door. The other eight Council thugs were now coming through. He met Tory’s eyes, and he could see the anger and hatred for the Council swelling inside her. She gripped the Winchester and chambered another round.
“Tory, don’t!” Hudson called out, realizing she was planning on going out shooting. “We can talk this out. We can explain!”
Tory raised the Winchester, but then a voice spoke up and she instantly froze.
“Listen to the smart man, Tory Bellona,” said the soothing voice, before Werner stepped out of the transit. “Then he looked at Hudson, and smiled his kindly-uncle smile. “Hudson Powell, I presume? I’ve heard so much about you. I’m glad we can finally meet.”
Hudson frowned, and quickly glanced back at Tory. Six of the eight suited Council thugs were aiming their pistols at her, but she now had the Winchester aimed at Werner’s head.
“Who are you?” he asked the older man, “and how do you know my name?”
The Council boss smiled. “My name is Werner Nest. Your friend Tory knows me well.” Then he looked up at Tory, and smiled an even more insincere smile. “Isn’t that right, Tory?”
“What do you want Werner?” said Tory, bitterly.
“To talk, that’s all,” Werner replied, opening his palms towards them. “There is much we need to discuss.”
“I’ve no interest in talking to you,” spat Tory. “So, either get out of our way, or get a bullet from this rifle.”
Werner sighed, “Stubborn, to the last,” he said, wistfully. Then he blinked his eyes towards one of the suited men behind Tory, and before Hudson could even utter a scream, the thug had squeezed his trigger, and fired.
CHAPTER 5
The hood was whipped off Hudson’s head, forcing him to squint against the sudden influx of light. His eyes began to adjust, and he saw that he was in some sort of warehouse or industrial unit. There were a dozen or so shipping containers inside, some of which appeared to function as makeshift offices or meeting spaces. Werner was standing behind a clinical-looking metal table a short distance away, with two suited Council thugs behind him. Both held compact semi-automatic weapons and wore threatening expressions to match their lethal armaments.
Hudson heard the bootsteps of someone approaching him from behind. Then the binders that were put on his hands in the service alley, along with the hood, were removed, and a suited thug appeared just behind and to his side. Hudson recognized him as the heavy-set man who had shot Tory.
The goons had rushed Hudson and pulled the hood over his head, before he could see whether Tory was alive or dead. They’d then bundled him into the transit, but not before dealing a few hard kicks and punches for good measure. However, even though Hudson hadn’t been able to judge Tory’s condition, he knew that the man had shot her in the body. Because of this, there was a good chance that Tory’s armored jacket would have saved her. That hope was all that was preventing him from losing his cool, or breaking down completely. Hudson wasn’t sure which would come first.
With his eyes fully-adjusted to the light, Hudson looked around the new space. Other than Werner and the three Council goons, there appeared to be no-one else there.
“Please, come closer, Mr. Powell,” said Werner, warmly beckoning Hudson to approach with a gentle wave of his hand. Hudson then noticed that his pistol, plus Tory’s six-shooter and Winchester rifle were laid out on the table.
“Where’s Tory?” asked Hudson, standing his ground. He stood tall and sounded assured, but was careful not to appear rude or disrespectful. “Is she okay?”
The thug to his side shoved him in the back, causing Hudson to stumble two steps closer to the table. He glowered back at the man, but the thug just smiled sadistically, almost willing Hudson to make a move. However, from his own experience of the Council on New Providence, plus what Liberty had told him, Hudson knew better than to provoke them.
“Fear not, Tory Bellona is still alive,” said Werner, smoothly, before adding, “for now.” The last two words were delivered with a threatening dash of menace. “Whether she remains that way very much depends on you, Mr. Powell.”
“Where is she?” asked Hudson, again fighting hard to keep from lashing out. “Is she here?”
“She is being interviewed about what happened on New Providence,” Werner replied, though his eyes were sharpening a touch. Hudson could tell that his constant questions were already irritating the Council boss. “Once this interview has been completed, you shall be reunited.”
Hudson huffed a laugh. He could well imagine what kind of interview they were conducting. “Are you asking about when Liberty escaped from your prison?” said Hudson, starting to feel the grip on his emotions slipping. Werner’s eyes narrowed a touch. “Tory had nothing to do with that. Liberty was just more accomplished than you gave her credit for.” He wasn’t sure whether lying was a good idea, but he had to do what he could to help Tory.
“Yet here Tory is, with you, Liberty Devan’s relic-hunter partner,” replied Werner, and Hudson cursed himself silently for walking himself into an obvious corner. “This seems to me to be more than a coincidence, no?”
Hudson fought to contain the swell of uneasiness he now felt, and thought on his feet. “Since you seem to know so much, you probably also know that Tory was originally hired to kill me,” he said, trying to throw doubt on Werner’s suspicions. “Logan Griff and Cutler Wendell double-crossed her, and I picked up her services instead,” he continued, before shrugging. “She’s a hired gun, and that’s all there is to it.”
Werner leant forward on the table and peered into Hudson’s eyes. “I doubt that very much,” he replied, though this time there was no trace of his earlier, affable demeanor. Werner’s eyes had hardened, and his entire body language had also changed, as if Hudson had just issued a challenge. “Liberty Devan was sold to me in a fair bargain,” Werner continued with the same composed malevolence. “The ill-mannered RGF officer and Cutler Wendell owe me compensation for her escape. But I will settle for reclaiming my debts with Tory, if I have to.”
Hudson frowned back at him, “What the hell does that mean?”
Werner rose up and pressed his hands behind his back. “It means that I will take Tory back into my indentured service as payment.”
“You can’t, she’ll die before going back to the Council!” Hudson hit back.
Werner
merely returned an oily smile; seeming to delight in having finally cracked Hudson’s thin veneer of composure. “There is an alternative,” said Werner, in a smooth manner that made Hudson think he’d planned this all along. “We are aware of the alien crystal that has the ability to locate and open new portals.” Hudson forced down a dry swallow, realizing what Werner was going to ask for. “I know that Cutler traded it somewhere inside this city,” Werner continued. “I assume that is why you are here.”
Shit, Cutler has already traded the crystal? thought Hudson, surprised that they would let it go. He tried to keep his expression blank, so as not to give anything away to Werner, but the return of the Council boss’s repellant sneer told him that he’d already read between the lines.
“Tell me who has the crystal, and how to use it, Mr. Powell, and I will consider all debts paid in full,” Werner finished.
Hudson shook his head, “You don’t understand; that crystal is the only thing that can stop the alien vessel that’s destroying the portal worlds,” he said, pleading with Werner, but the Council boss appeared utterly unconcerned. Hudson couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing; even faced with the threat of annihilation, this poisonous snake was still thinking of personal profit. “Your own space station was destroyed!” he continued, anger seeping into his voice. “Six planets have already crumbled to dust. Millions are dead!”
Werner slammed a fist on the table, causing the weapons on its surface to bounce. “I do not care about these planets!” he roared. “And Earth can burn too for all I care – I want that crystal!”
The sudden ferocity of Werner’s reaction stunned Hudson into silence. He hadn’t realized how unhinged Werner was until that moment, and it only made him more dangerous. Hudson remained silent as Werner then forced his eyes shut, and took several deep breaths. When he spoke again, it was with more composure.
“The Martian and Earth fleets will deal with this alien invader you speak of,” Werner continued, dismissing the threat as if it were a simple case of trespassing. “Then, once the dust has quite literally settled, the system of portal worlds will need to be rebuilt. And with that crystal, I will hold the key to all the new gateways. I will control it all.”
Hudson laughed, which caused Werner’s jaw to visibly tighten. “If I don’t get that crystal back, there will be no-one left alive to rebuild,” he said. Exasperation had replaced anger; he knew there was no reasoning with people like these. “Goliath will kill us all. Humanity will be wiped out.”
Werner held Hudson’s eyes for a few seconds, then sighed, “I had hoped we could reach an accord, like two reasonable men, but I see now that you are as stubborn and blinkered as your new companion.” Werner then turned to one of the men behind him, “Bring her…”
Hudson waited nervously as the suited thug walked across the warehouse floor and went into one of the shipping containers. A few seconds later, he returned with another suited guard, who was pushing Tory in front of him at the barrel of his sub-machine gun. Hudson could see that she had blood around her nose and mouth, and matted blood in her long, dark hair. Her hands were bound in front of her.
Anger swelled inside Hudson, and he tried to go to Tory, but the armed thug behind him grabbed Hudson’s shoulder, and pressed his weapon into his kidneys. “This is madness, killing us won’t get you what you want!” Hudson shouted, still struggling against the strength of guard holding him. Then Hudson was struck to the side of the head, and the force and suddenness of the blow rocked him to his knees. Tory met his eyes, but her expression was as cold and hard as steel.
“Killing both of you?” replied Werner coolly. “No, Mr. Powell, that won’t get me what I want.” Then he picked up Hudson’s pistol from the table, and walked to Tory’s side, careful not to get too close. Werner casually raised the pistol, and aimed it at Tory’s head. “But I suspect that threatening to kill your new partner here might motivate you.”
Hudson felt panic rising in his gut, but Tory still did not react. “If you kill her, then why would I help you?” he said, again trying to think on his feet, but their situation seemed hopeless.
“Because, if I must, Mr. Powell, I will torture you for information about the crystal,” Werner replied, matter-of-factly. “I admit, the prospect bores me. But rest assured, I will get what I want, one way or another. The only difference is how many lives are lost, and how much blood is shed.” Werner then straightened his arm, and slipped his finger onto the trigger. “I suggest you choose now.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t shoot!” Hudson called out, and again, he received an oily smile in return. Hudson glanced to Tory, expecting her to tell him to keep quiet, but she made no sound. She merely looked back at Werner with the same, unyielding eyes. Unopposed, Hudson turned back to Werner, and continued, “The truth is that I didn’t know Cutler had already traded the crystal till you told me. But if he has, then it’s likely that it was to someone called Yaeger. She owns one of the shipyard lots here in the Basin.”
“An intelligent choice,” said Werner, lowering the pistol. “However, Tory will remain my guest, until we’ve verified your information.”
Suddenly, Hudson heard a series of low beeps coming from somewhere nearby. The sound was faint, and hard to pinpoint, but everyone, Werner included, began looking around trying to find the source.
“What is that sound?” snapped Werner, angrily turning to the guard behind Tory.
“It’s a skelly,” said Tory, breaking her self-imposed silence. Her voice was composed, but her eyes burned with rage.
Werner frowned, and then looked down at her binders. “You fools didn’t search her?” he yelled.
However, Tory didn’t give any of the suited goons a chance to answer. The beeps stopped and the binders fell away, but even before they had hit the ground, Tory had grabbed the arm of the thug behind her and flung him into Werner. The Council boss was propelled backwards, bowling over one of the other guards. The third raised his weapon and fired, but Tory was already charging at him. Hudson figured he must have hit her, but the combination of Tory’s armored jacket, plus her momentum, carried her through him like a freight train.
The guard behind Hudson shoved him aside, and raised his sub-machine gun at Tory, but adrenalin was now surging through Hudson’s veins. He darted back, barging into the man and upsetting his aim. The weapon fired a short burst, but the rounds flew wide.
Wasting no time, Hudson grasped the guard’s sub-machine gun, and tore it from his grasp. He took a solid right to the face, but shook it off, and drove the butt of the weapon into the guard’s gut. The goon absorbed the blow, and managed to grab hold of Hudson’s jacket, wrestling him to the ground. The guard was stronger and carried another fifty pounds on Hudson, but he managed to slip out of the hold and get behind him. He then pulled the sub-machine gun up against the guard’s throat, trying to choke the air and strength from the thick-set thug. The man fought for his life, trying desperately to force the weapon away, while writhing in an attempt to free himself. However, Hudson held on, muscles burning, and battling with all the strength left in him.
Werner and the other three goons were still down, but Tory was already back to her feet. And though she had initially gained the upper hand, even Hudson doubted she could prevail in a four-on-one gunfight. Hudson could only watch as Tory rushed back to the metal table, turned it over, and dove over the top of it. Werner scrambled to his feet and fled, as the guards recovered their weapons and took aim. They then rained bullets into the table, pock-marking the thick metal like dimpled deck plating, but the shield had served its purpose and Tory was unhurt.
Hudson tried to call out to her, but all of his energy was consumed with trying to win the struggle with the guard. Even if he had managed to raise his voice, Tory would not have heard him. Her expression was wrought into a look of brutal determination, fueled by fury and years of resentment and hatred towards the Council. Hudson was unable to help or intervene as Tory snatched up the Winchester rifle
that had slid on to the floor nearby. To Hudson’s horror, Tory then stood up, directly in the line of fire. The guards initially stopped shooting, clearly baffled as to why Tory had shown herself, but then a fraction of second later, Tory began shooting. She had aimed and reloaded the famous lever-action rifle with frightening efficiency, shooting all three suited thugs cleanly in the head in a matter of seconds. Tory then turned the weapon towards Werner and fired again, but the Council boss had already slipped behind a shipping container, and the bullet just thudded harmlessly into the metal. Tory roared in frustration and ran after him, but then she saw Hudson, still struggling with the guard, and stopped in her tracks.
The momentary distraction allowed the suited thug to break free, and reverse the hold. He felt the man’s immense bulk press down on him, and the metal crush his throat. Then there was another crack of rifle fire, and the pressure on his throat disappeared. Pushing the goon off him, he saw Tory approaching, smoke seeping from the barrel of the Winchester.
“Thanks…” croaked Hudson, rubbing his aching neck. Then he saw blood trickling down Tory’s side. The material of the armored jacket had split. “Hey, you’re shot!” he said, scrambling to his knees.
“It’s fine, the jacket kept it out,” she said, in a ‘don’t fuss’ kind of voice. “Just another cut for me to stitch up, and a broken rib or two. I’ll be fine.”
Hudson could see that she appeared more in control of her emotions now, but her eyes were still cold and severe. “Are you okay?” he asked, but then quickly clarified his question, “And I don’t mean the cut and cracked ribs. I mean you.”
