Not Dead Yet

by Dennis Young

  NOT DEAD YET

  Book Three of

  The Mercenary Trilogy

  by

  Dennis Young

  Edited by

  Christine Williams

  Cover Art by

  Russell Caras

  © All story material Dennis Young 2019

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means; graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this book are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author.

  ONE OF THE MANY MOTTOS OF THE

  OLDE EARTH MARINES, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  Don’t ever mistake my silence for ignorance,

  My calmness for acceptance,

  Or my kindness for weakness.

  Not Dead Yet

  Do you wanna live forever!

  Battle Cry of Platoon Six, Red Raiders,

  Charlie Company, Third Marine Battalion,

  Theian Colonial Marines.

  Prologue

  Somewhere in the Laberos System…

  Jance Sukano sat alone in her fighter craft. The tiny spaceship was in low orbit around Hyperion, Theia’s moon, and had been there several days. She’d stolen the ship from Nemesis, when things on Crius went to hell, and, knowing of the Marine C&C ship in orbit with its escorts, she took a long, leisurely path around Crius, using the planet as cover. Then changed course for Theia. And waited. It had taken nearly all the spacecraft’s fuel and consumables to get there.

  Jance was still healing from the wounds taken during her fight and flight from Nemesis and the Marines. While not debilitating, they were a reminder of the causes and the reasons.

  She thought about Talice Wyloh often. Usually with malice, but on rare occasion, with a bit of nostalgia and a fond smile. Talice had become quite the adversary, everything Jance hoped she would be, and had proven her worth against the best Jance could offer in terms of challenge.

  Nemesis, the “bad boys” of the Laberos system, were basically gone. Their network of hostage-takers, drug runners, and protection-racket enforcers was all but dead, scattered over the wild outback of Crius. Even those she kept contact with, who had means to escape the planet, still laid low, nearly sixty days after their Base had been overrun by Theian Marines. And Talice. And Talice’s mercenary team. Tough bunch. Jance knew several of them, a couple even very well. Intimately, you might say. She grinned to herself, remembering.

  But now Jance was getting antsy. Not to mention running low on funds. Yes, the Marines had paid in full for her help in freeing the women and men kidnapped by Nemesis for slave labor. Yes, she’d made sure there was no way to trace the creditmarks once the deposit was made. She’d simply entered the banking establishment online, closed out her account, and escaped with an unmarked credit into an untraceable location. The fact that she’d done it all with a bogus account didn’t matter. She’d stolen nothing. It was her money, after all.

  But now she was antsy for action. For the thrill of the challenge Talice and her merc team presented. But…

  She knew her time as a vigilante was limited. She needed one last fling. Something big. Something splashy. Something glorious.

  She nodded to herself with a thought. Powered up her ship’s comm unit and punched in a number. Voice comm, not commtext.

  “Hello, TWN Productions? Yes, I’d like to speak with your director of programming. Oh, I see. Well, how about the network manager? I have an idea I’d like to pitch. Yes, pitch. You know, for a show. A very interesting show. One that will be popular and profitable. You know the ancient saying: ‘If it bleeds, it leads’, right? Yes, I’ll hold. Thank you.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  Do We Have the Time? (Part One)

  Just Pull Me Out Alive

  “You have to believe in yourself.”

  Sun Tzu, “The Art of War”

  The Infirmary at Northland Marine Base…

  It was all she could do to breathe.

  There was no pain. There never was. There was only a fog of tiredness, surrounding a white-hot point of anger deep within her soul. It was the only thing that kept her going this last… half a year? Had it been that long?

  Seven years. Two more than she’d been given in the beginning.

  Since the mission on Crius, and the worm.

  Since Dr. Barbra Cromwell, Babs to everyone around the Base, had dug the thing out of Talice Wyloh’s arm.

  Well, we’ve beat that. So far.

  But the Cemlac-12Plus had grown toxic in her system. Just like the Cemlac-12, without the Plus, did before.

  Almost seven years on the meds. Now…

  Talice forced herself to breathe, then exhale. The bed wasn’t uncomfortable. Actually, it wasn’t a bed. It was… something new. Anti-Grav panels above and below, keeping her suspended between them. Designed for victims of fires and other major wounds in general. No pressure from one’s own body against a surface. It helped, she had to admit.

  The door opened slowly, and a med-tech wheeled in a cart loaded with monitoring equipment and a tray of bottles, pressure injectors, and even an old-fashioned syringe. Talice shuddered at the thought of a needle injecting stuff into her arm. Then laughed.

  No problem with AP rounds penetrating my body, but fuck that needle stuff…

  The aide smiled and exited quietly. Moments later a short, petite ball of energy with wavy blonde hair entered.

  “Rise and shine, my dear.”

  Talice smiled. Babs had the best bedside manner she’d ever seen.

  Babs shut down the AG system. A smooth, soft mattress slid beneath Talice, and she settled into it gently. The panel above her lifted away and against the wall. Babs wrapped an old-fashioned stethoscope around her neck and stood at the bedside. “How are you feeling? And don’t give me any of that Marine BS.”

  Talice shrugged. “If you ever wanted to have your way with me, now would be the time.”

  Babs opened Talice’s bedshirt and clipped wires to the sensors on her chest and head. She powered up the monitoring panel and watched the output for a few moments. Talice watched, unable to even carry on the conversation.

  “I need blood and urine samples. We need to make sure the C-12Plus is out of your system entirely.”

  “Babs, I haven’t peed for nearly a day. The IV’s just get sopped up by the bugs. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

  Babs looked her in the eye. “We don’t need much. It’s been ten days, and your system should be clear, but we need to be sure. The C-12Ultra is powerful voodoo, and we have to start with a clean slate.”

  “And this is gonna do the trick? If it doesn’t kill me first, or I don’t expire in this bed?”

  Babs laid a warm hand on Talice’s arm. “You know we’re doing everything we can. You’ve had seven good years. Your merc team has helped the Marines clear out Nemesis Corp. and a whole bunch of other bad guys.” She met Talice’s eyes with feeling. “And you pulled me out of hell, lady. But I knew if anyone could do it, it would be you.”

  “Just doin’ the job.” Talice’s eyes nearly closed, and she smiled again. “Damn, I was terrified for you. Fucking Jance Sukano…”

  Babs laid a finger to Talice’s lips. “It’s
over and done with. No one has heard from or about Jance for half a year. About the time you started getting sick.”

  “You mean sicker.”

  They chuckled together.

  Babs turned to the readouts and watched them again for a bit. Talice touched her arm. “Glad you made it. I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”

  Babs only nodded, then turned back to Talice and raised the syringe. “I want your blood, woman.” She inserted the needle into a tap and vacuumed out two vials from Talice’s arm. “Hmmm…”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Did you know your blood is… red?”

  “…Isn’t it supposed to be?”

  Babs’s eyes grew wide. “You’re right.” She winked. “Okay, give me that urine sample and we can get this show on the road. If you’re clean, I can have you back on your feet in three days.”

  “And if I’m not?”

  “We’ve already got your tomb ready. You should see it. Big, garish thing, got guns and missiles, and even one of your old Heavy Combat Suits. Of course, we had to fumigate it…”

  Talice coughed a laugh.

  “I’ll give you five minutes,” said Babs. “Then I’m coming back with a vacuum pump.”

  She sashayed out the door. Talice watched her, smiling once again. Closed her eyes. Then opened them.

  Fuck, I still gotta pee…

  * * *

  It had not been a fun year for Talice.

  For thirty days after the Crius mission to take down Nemesis, the team had gone their separate ways. Just to clear their minds and souls from what they’d seen and done. Rescuing the slave hostages. Aya going rogue. Freeing Babs, and the cost. Everything.

  From time to time she received commtexts, but for the most part, she didn’t hear from them.

  Except for Mac… and her new legs. PT was Mac’s life now. She wasn’t walking yet, but she was close. Maybe after New Year’s. Maybe Spring after that. Still, she’d walk. Talice knew it. Because Mac told her so.

  Nikolay and Bělinka, Talice’s comm guru and munitions expert respectively, had simply disappeared. Then Talice received a “we’re married now” message on her comm unit some days later. Then near the end of the year, a “we have a daughter!” announcement. But still no header address on the commtext. Talice wondered if she’d ever see them again.

  “We’re all a bit tired and worn,” Talice had reminded Nikolay after the mission. “Take time for yourselves and forget about this stuff. We’ve done our jobs for now.”

  They’d parted with promises to keep in touch. Privately, Talice wondered if the team would ever be the same after Crius. After everything that happened there. Guess they took my advice. To the max.

  Gorg Evans, master spy and generally despicable person, disappeared. Talice knew he was a broken, disheartened man. She sent a commtext to Colonel Fawkes asking of him, but never received a reply. That told her all she needed to know. Case closed.

  Briggs, Rory, and Dosu, the man-mountains, and the most perfect of mercs Talice could ever imagine, faded away for a while. Occasionally she received messages and pictures. Ollie, her sharp-shooter with the bionic eyes, the same. Martin, Mister “I got this” of the team, Talice knew, was off on another mission with another merc group. She’d given her blessing, and told him if he got killed, he’d better not come back to haunt her.

  Then there was Jian. Not “Junior” any longer. Just Jian.

  Jian, the assassin with the million-creditmark smile. Jian, with more honor and guts than any single man she’d ever met. With the possible exception of Dad.

  Jian, who she’d lured into her bed after the Crius mission, regardless of the fact she was, at the time, wearing a hip brace and rib-wrap. And could barely walk, let alone… well…

  On her return to Anchor Prime from visiting her folks, Talice looked him up. The memory of the intensity of their lovemaking on the trip home from Crius after the mission hadn’t faded. They met at a corner place not far from her apartment. They didn’t leave each other for four days. She simply couldn’t get enough of him. Finally, Talice saw him to the metrolink, with a hug and promises and a kiss that literally left her tingling. Her fling with Fawkes the previous year had faded to a distant memory.

  Then it all began to change.

  The Cemlac-12Plus stopped working. Then it grew toxic. Then she found herself being rushed to the Base Infirmary. She hardly remembered it. For thirty days she was on a purge of all the meds in her system. She nearly died, twice. Finally, Babs ordered her into medical stasis. That lasted another sixty days.

  At last, they brought her out, where she found herself floating between the AG plates. The lack of gravity had slowed the bugs enough they could complete the purge process and introduce the new meds. That was the plan, anyway. That’s what Babs had told her.

  If only I could breathe…

  * * *

  Talice woke again as the AG field lowered her slowly. She’d been dreaming, she knew, but couldn’t remember of what.

  Babs stood beside her bed with a twinkle in her eye. “You’re clean. Now the fun begins.”

  Talice blinked. “I think… I dreamed you said that.”

  Babs’s look turned serious. “It’s gonna be rough. We can stretch it to five or six days if you want to, but no more than that. The bugs… the disease has progressed as we purged you, so we’ve got to be aggressive and get you back to where you were, before we can go on the maintenance dosage.” She laid a hand on Talice’s bare arm. “It’s gonna hurt.”

  “Are we talking AP or HE hurt?” Talice managed a smile.

  “We’re talking ‘oh hell, I just swallowed a grenade’ hurt.” Babs squeezed gently on Talice’s pale wrist. “I’m thinking we need to take four days.”

  Talice looked at the IV bags filled with super-hydration fluid hanging above her bed. They’d fed her constantly since she’d arrived. Actually, they’d fed her bugs; it was that or they’d feed off her organs. Take every drop of moisture from her body. Leave her nothing but a husk.

  “How much weight have I lost?”

  Babs shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. We’re gonna get you back to all muscle and meat and bone, lady. You’re gonna be ripped.”

  “Babs… please.”

  “… Six kilos. But you haven’t eaten a thing in ten days, Talice. Talk about a crash diet.”

  Talice glanced at her thin arm and loose skin, then locked eyes with Babs again. “Let’s get started.”

  Babs smiled.

  * * *

  Babs was right. This hurts to fucking hell.

  For ten days after the new infusions of Cemlac-12Ultra had begun, Babs and her Therapy Team put Talice through the toughest PT she’d ever done. It didn’t matter that they’d started slowly. It didn’t matter the infusions made Talice feel like she could do cartwheels while firing full five-second bursts from a pulse rifle. Under live fire. In the dark. Blindfolded. Her stamina was that of someone fifty years older. Or maybe a hundred and fifty. And her muscles simply had no strength in the beginning. Each day after PT they were so filled with lactic acid, she nearly screamed just trying to change position in her bed. Babs called a halt and three days of rest.

  The first day, Talice spent between the AG plates. It was all she could do to feed herself. She drank S-H like it was the best single malt Scotch she’d ever tasted.

  The second day, she was walking again. Barely, but she was walking.

  The third day, a dark figure in a hoverchair slid silently into her room while she was napping.

  “Up and at ’em, Princess.” Former Marine Master Sergeant Jonie Macauley came to the bedside and laid a hand on Talice’s shoulder.

  “Mac.” Talice rose to an elbow and gave her old DI a hug. She swung her legs over the bedside and glanced down at the blanket across Mac’s hips. “Let’s see ’em, lady.”

  Mac drew the blanket away. Her new legs were bare and beautiful below her compression undies. The skin glowed with freshness. A bruise showed on her lef
t quad, darker even than her chocolate skin.

  Talice’s eyebrows furrowed.

  “I dropped a dumbbell doing upper-body stuff. Glanced off my leg.” Mac shrugged. “No real damage, but I’ve gotta be careful for a while. In ten days I start leg lifts.”

  Talice nodded. “Great. We can suffer together. I’m doing the same thing.” She fluffed her pillows. “Today just rest. Babs said I was overdoing it. Imagine that.”

  They laughed together, then simply held each other’s gaze for a long moment.

  “This sucks.”

  Mac chortled. “Better than getting shot at.”

  Talice handed a hardcopy printout to Mac. “Speaking of which…”

  Mac read. “Yeah, I saw this, too. Looks like Niky and Bělinka won’t be back. And I heard Martin got killed.”

  Talice nodded sadly. “He was an okay guy. Good Marine, good merc. We’ll be hard-pressed to find a decent replacement.”

  Mac was silent for a time. “You really want to keep doing this?”

  Talice looked her in the eye. “Yeah, it’s been quiet for a while. I haven’t heard from the colonel lately. But… Jance is still out there somewhere.”

  “Why is that important, Talice? She kept her part of the bargain on Crius. The hostages were all safe. We got out alive. At some point, the merc business becomes too dangerous.”

  “Aya.” Talice shrugged. “I still feel I owe her something.”

  “Bull. You’ve paid your dues. She did what she had to do, and it was no fault of yours. Her idea of honor doesn’t have to match yours. Or anyone’s.”

  “Then I owe Jance one, because of Aya. And Konee.”

  Talice rose and began to pace the room. Slowly, but she paced. “Look… regardless of the Marines stomping Nemesis, we know someone will take their place. Crius, Eos, or maybe even in another system, the bad guys never give up. And Jance will watch and find ways to insinuate herself into their organization for her own purposes. And somehow, find a way to draw us in. Even Gorg Evans was pretty awed by her ability.”