Expelled (Interplanetary Spy for Hire Book 1)

by Ell Leigh Clarke

  “Huh. I was always more of a Star Empire fan.”

  “You would be.”

  “I’m almost done,” Cameron said, carefully pulling out another detonator. “Just hang in there a little longer.”

  “What’s the plan after you get those things out?” Fred asked.

  Cameron swallowed, thinking about it.

  “We find a way to detonate them safely,” he answered. “After that, Burrett can push the trigger as much as he likes and it won’t do squat.”

  “Right,” Fred said, looking at the pile of blasting caps in his lap. “We’ll just detonate them safely. Sure. That sounds possible.”

  Cameron didn’t answer, focused on removing the next detonator.

  “How much time do you think we have?” Fred asked quietly.

  “We’re fine,” Cameron said tersely.

  “Listen, I don’t— I don’t want to die here,” Fred said, his voice hitching. “I really, really don’t.”

  “I said we’re going to be fine,” Cameron repeated. “No one is going to die here.”

  “I know, just, listen to me,” Fred insisted. His shaking was getting worse. “I don’t want to die here. But more than that, I don’t want you to die here with me. You or Jayne. You don’t have to do that, alright? You should just leave. You should get out of here. You should—”

  “Fred.” Cameron’s calm voice cut through Fred’s panic as he finally looked away from the detonators long enough to meet Fred’s eye directly. “I’m not going anywhere. Neither is Jayne. Not without you.”

  Fred swallowed, clearly wanting to argue but unable to. He nodded, looking down. Cameron returned his focus to the last detonator.

  “Last one,” he said. “Hang on.” Cameron carefully wiggled the top of the blasting cap. As it began to move loose, he stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Fred asked, sweat rolling down his forehead.

  “Fred, in case this doesn’t work and we blow up, I just want to say that I think a show about a two-headed cop would be awesome. And I would definitely watch it.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Slowly, he pulled the final blasting cap out of the C4, teasing it carefully loose. As it began to slide out he felt a quiet sense of wonder that nothing had gone wrong.

  At the same moment, something exploded on the floor above them.

  The boom shook dust from the rafters above them and rattled the whole building in a terrible, ominous rumble. Fred jumped, making a frightened animal sound, and Cameron flinched, releasing the detonator he was holding in order to grab for the pile in Fred's lap and keep them from falling.

  It occurred to him as his hand was coming down, too late to stop, that slapping the shock sensitive explosive detonators might not be a good idea. Might even, in fact, be worse than letting them fall. He had time only to wince in anticipation of the worst.

  It never came. The detonators, pinned between his hands and Fred's lap, had not gone off. Cameron released a shaky breath, thanked whatever gods were watching for his luck, and looked up at Fred, sharing a nervous laugh with the other man.

  Then he remembered the detonator he had pulled about three quarters of the way out of the C4, and then let go of. His eyes found it just as it began to fall.

  Before he could think of anything more coherent than a string of expletives or begin to consider whether he should risk letting go of all the detonators he was holding in order to make a dive for that one, a hand shot out and caught the falling fuse.

  Cameron, stark white, eyes wide with shock, looked up at Jayne, who smiled at him.

  "Drop something?"

  Jayne worked fast, using scrap metal from a pile in the corner as a blast shield while they set off the detonators. After one last check for any secondary explosives, she cut the bomb vest off of Fred, who slumped out of the chair and into her arms in exhausted relief. Cameron helped her carry him out, back through the halls of Burrett's ‘fun house,’ which now looked like a recently vacated warzone. Jayne had burned her way through the last floor like a one-man army in her hurry to get to Cameron and Fred.

  "Remind me never to get between you and something you want," Cameron wheezed as they limped past the burned out shell of something that looked like it belonged in the last act of a Terminator film.

  "You should see her when someone tries to take the last slice of pizza," Fred added, looking close to passing out as he hung between Cameron and Jayne.

  "Only when I paid for it," Jayne replied, her vision doubling. Now that she wasn't full of furious adrenaline her various injuries were starting to feel a lot more intense than the scratches she'd initially dismissed them as. "Last slice rights are sacred. Violate them and you deserve what you get."

  They shared the single remaining functional smog mask as they climbed, and by the time they crawled out of the broken window on to the surface, Jayne's eyes were burning and running so much she could barely see. But even half blind she recognized the flashing lights and alarms of the ambulance already waiting for them. The cops and the bomb squad arrived a moment later, as Jayne watched the EMTs load Fred into the back of the truck. She breathed deeply through the emergency mask they'd given her and leaned against Cameron, taking a moment, though part of her knew they didn't have time. He put his arm around her, saying nothing. For the moment, there was nothing that needed to be said.

  Merry, Vlad, and Alfonso joined them once Fred was taken care of.

  "Good work in there," Alfonso said with a nod. "As usual, the Academy was beyond foolish to kick you out."

  "That's an understatement," Merry added. "You were amazing. God only knows how many people you've saved."

  Jayne smiled at her tiredly. "Only one that mattered."

  "You were quite impressive as well, Detective Cameron," Alfonso continued. "With skills like that I'm surprised no agency or security firm has scooped you up. You're wasted on the police."

  "Maybe not for much longer," Cameron said, wincing as he saw Captain Gold heading towards them.

  "He does not look happy," Merry muttered.

  "He looks like the dean that time I hot-boxed the engineering classroom," Vlad added.

  "Detective Cameron—" the Captain said on the open comm channel, his face red with anger. He didn't get any further before Jayne stepped between them. She said nothing, but the look in her eye, to say nothing of the burns, blood and dirt she was covered in, spoke volumes. He hesitated.

  "Oh, look at that," Alfonso said loudly, indicating the pack of news vans descending towards the scene. "The press has arrived!"

  "Wow. I'm surprised they didn't beat the police here," Jayne added in a deliberately casual tone, not breaking eye contact with the Captain. "They're going to have a lot of questions, huh?"

  "Indeed," Alfonso mused, fixing a cufflink. "I would hate to be whoever has to explain how the bomb was planted here by a fugitive the police were repeatedly warned about but refused to cooperate in catching. That's going to be an embarrassing conversation."

  The Captain's expression was sour enough to curdle milk.

  "We'll talk about this later," he hissed at Cameron, then hurried past, shouting at the uniformed officers to get a cordon up and corral the journalists. Cameron sighed, watching him go.

  "I'm so fired."

  "If city hall lets him fire you after they find out you helped defuse a bomb and save one of the most heavily populated buildings in Theron, I'll eat my designer shoes," Alfonso replied. "And like I said, you can do much better than the police department."

  "Night's not over yet," Jayne cut in. "Tell me you have Burrett's location."

  "Oh we've got it," Vlad confirmed. "And it looks like he's still there. It's on this level, not far from here. I've been looking up information on the structures down here, all the stuff that's sunk over the years. It looks like there's a whole network of interconnected tunnels. Service corridors, utility infrastructure, even parts of an old transit system, and a bunch of them connect to the sewer
s. That’s how he gets around so quickly.”

  "Then let's get going," Jayne said, straightening up. "We don't have time to waste."

  "Not until you let the EMTs check you out," Merry said, holding out a hand to stop her. Jayne bit her cheek to stop herself from saying something nasty. Merry's expression was pleading. "You're not going to make it down the street in the shape you're in Jayne. I'm not asking you not to go, just give them fifteen minutes to patch you up first."

  Jayne gritted her teeth, choking on a thousand arguments for why they couldn't afford fifteen minutes. But she knew Merry was trying to help. And she'd spent long enough ignoring Merry when she was trying to be a friend.

  "…Alright," she said. "Fifteen minutes. Only because Cameron looks like hell."

  "Thanks," Cameron said, without a hint of sarcasm.

  The EMTs urged them both to go to the hospital with Fred, but they refused. So they slapped salve and synth skin over Jayne's burns and a 3D printed brace on Cameron's leg and made them both inhale a thick, foul tasting expectorant and cough it back up again to clear their lungs of the poisonous smog. Then, they sent them on their way.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  Le Maison de Jupiter; L0, Theron Techcropolis, Amaros

  Jayne stood in the middle of the street, looking down five blocks at the long-abandoned Le Maison de Jupiter. Looking at the restaurant, once considered the crown jewel of cuisine in Theron Techcropolis, gave her a wistful desire to go back in time three hundred years.

  Jayne had seen old pre-VR films about millionaires, gangsters, and starlets all gathering at the elegant and galactically famous hotspot. Over time the city grew skyward and the affluent left it behind. Its regulars abandoned the high chrome ceilings, the buttressing neo-Roman columns, and the always-packed dance floor. Its signature asset, cooking their food in ovens powered by gas from Jupiter’s atmosphere, became commonplace, a gimmick for chain restaurants. The trip down to the growingly distant Level Zero was no longer necessary.

  The restaurant died. Just like everything else down there.

  Merry whistled. “Jayne! Helloooo?” Jayne craned her neck to look over her shoulder. “Are you with us?”

  Jayne walked out of the middle of the street over to Merry and Cameron. Cameron’s dry blood had stiffened his shirt. The cuts across his body stung and bled with every movement, but he showed no signs of exhaustion or pain. Jayne was impressed.

  Cameron stuck a stun gun into his shoulder holster. He mumbled through his smog mask. “How are you feeling?”

  Jayne did her best to wipe the goggles of her mask clean. “Pissed off. Which is good.”

  “Great pep talk. Let’s get serious now.” Merry used her tablet to pull up an old map of the ancient subway system rotting below the street. “By now we’ve figured out that Burrett is a good host. He spares no expense making sure his guests have the time of their lives… or deaths.”

  “So walking through the front door is a bad idea?”

  “Bingo. Let’s throw Burrett a little surprise party.” Merry showed Jayne and Cameron her tablet. “We can enter these subway tunnels through any manhole.” Merry couldn’t help but laugh. Jayne playfully slapped the side of her arm. “Sorry, couldn’t help it. Anyway, this tunnel was once the X-2 line. The X-2 was a working class transporter. It stopped right underneath Le Maison so the wait staff and cooks could come and go without ruining the elegant dining experience.” There was disgust in Merry’s voice.

  “Sounds easy enough.” Jayne tightened her boots, getting ready to wade through a foot of muggy water that had no doubt settled in the subway.

  “Don’t worry. It gets worse.” Merry turned her tablet off. “Because that… is where my data ends.” Jayne and Cameron were silent. “I can’t find any blueprints, schematics, nothing about Le Maison’s design and structure. The building is too old for a modern surveillance system I can hack into. Once you’re through the subway tunnel, both of you are on your own. The best I can do is stay on comm with you and be there for moral support.”

  “Thanks,” Jayne said, extending a comforting hand to Merry’s shoulder. “But I wouldn’t say you have the best morals.”

  Merry smiled, but not for long. “There’s something else. Something I have to say.”

  Jayne feared Merry had saved the absolutely worse for last. “What is it?”

  “It’s been haunting me this entire time, and I have to get it off my chest.” She matched Jayne’s eyes through their smog masks. “It’s just—you’ve got to admit that Burrett is kind of hot, right? Like in a ‘spank me, daddy’ kind of way?” She burst out laughing.

  +++

  As they slid the heavy manhole cover free, a gust of long-stagnant air rushed out. It was surprisingly fresh, at least compared to the smog.

  Jayne lowered herself halfway into the hole, her feet finding the rusty ladder. There was hardly any smog below the surface. She disappeared into the underground.

  Cameron slid into the manhole next. Before descending, he looked to Merry. “Bill and Madison are still in this quadrant. They’re handling the aftermath of the warehouse, but call them and they’ll be here.”

  “Got it.”

  Cameron reached the bottom of the ladder and dropped the remaining two meters, splashing water onto Jayne.

  “Watch it!”

  “Sorry.”

  “Just be careful.” Jayne switched on the headlight attached to her smog mask and shined it down the dark, seemingly endless tunnel. She turned to Cameron. They understood what they had to do, and silently began to trudge forward.

  At first, silence was the only appropriate response to a place like this. It was dark and full of skittering, crawling life that didn’t want them there. The decaying structure that couldn’t support their movement and presence made every step feel like a bargain.

  Finally, the silence became as oppressive and unbearable as the tunnel. Jayne had to break it. “I grew up hearing urban legends about lizard people who lived in these abandoned tunnel systems.”

  “Me too. I think it’s a rite of passage for kids, hearing those stories.”

  “When I was young, I’d drop my school lunch into storm drains. I wanted to help them out.”

  “I didn’t know you were so caring.” Cameron briefly turned back. When navigating through a new space, it was important to see what the way out looked like.

  Jayne was careful not to let another silence descend upon them. “So, I have a question for you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “What is ceviche?”

  Cameron laughed. “It’s a seafood dish. Any variety of raw fish cured in lemon and spiced with chili peppers, chopped onions, and cilantro. It’s served cold.”

  “It sounds delicious.”

  Merry buzzed in on the comm. “I just wrote that down, Cameron. I’ve been getting tired of take out anyway. Alright, you two. Up here on the right you’ll see a stairway.”

  Jayne spotted a small glimmer of light, her headlamp reflecting on an iron door hanging off its hinges. “Eyes on it.”

  “Cool, once you’re in there I’m only good on comm. I’ll do what I can.”

  Jayne shoved the heavy iron door aside. She ascended the stairs and Cameron followed.

  “That’s it. Bienvenue à la Maison de Jupiter.”

  “Thanks, Merry. See you on the other side.”

  +++

  Elegance grows haunting with time. The statues lined up in rows had broken, chipped, or fallen over. The fountain in the center of the restaurant was covered in a thick layer of algae and moss.

  The cushions of the booths had been torn up, the stuffing inside now flea-infested nests for raccossums, a raccoon-possum hybrid exclusive to the lower levels.

  The mega-sized disco ball had fallen, who knew how many years ago, and lay smashed on the dance floor. Hundreds of tiny scattered mirrors reflected the lights off their headlamps in different directions.

  “What’s it like in there?” Merry buzzed in.

&nb
sp; Jayne chuckled. “Worst restaurant I’ve ever been to. Lousy atmosphere, no service, and creepy as hell. One star.”

  “Okay, well there’s no way Burrett hasn’t done something to give you a hard time. Stay on your toes, there might—”

  “Sshh!” Cameron froze, Jayne turned to face him. “Did you hear that?”

  “What was it?”

  Cameron crouched. “Swinging doors. Your eight o’clock.”

  Jayne turned. The doors swung open with a rusty screech. Cameron reached for his stun gun, but Jayne held her hand up, telling him to stand down.

  An obsolete service bot wheeled out with a menu in the only arm still attached to its metallic torso. An aluminum mustache gave character to the primitive A.I. program running behind its metallic humanoid face.

  Merry frantically checked in. “What the hell was that?”

  “Service bot.” Jayne reassured her. “Real old. Who knows how long its been waiting for a guest.”

  Cameron chimed in. “Seems pretty harmless.”

  Merry didn’t trust it. “Be careful.”

  “Bonjour! Bon-bon-bon-bonjour!” The service bot sputtered with a constantly modulating voice emulator. “Welcome to Le Maison de Jupiter-ter-ter.” The bot’s creaky joints twitched. It was an unsettling sight. “Right this way, madam, monsieur. Right this way-way-way, Madam. Monsieur. Right-right-right—”

  The bot ground to a halt. The light in its eyes went dead.

  The swinging doors burst open and three more service bots rolled out, all chiming together. “Bonjour! Bonjour! Welcome!”

  Jayne spread her feet apart and took a battle stance. “This is bad.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you.” Cameron buddied up to Jayne’s back, keeping an eye in the opposite direction as the service bots surrounded them.

  At once, the service bots asked in unison. “Would you like to hear about our specials?”

  Then their chest plates swung open. Each bot was equipped with an acetylene chef’s torch positioned before a metal pipe.

  “What’s going on, Jayne? Talk to me!”