by Paul Barrett
“It was the best thing that ever happened to me,” Hawk said. “Tahorton raised me far better than my father would have.”
Before Anne could speak, the car’s computer interrupted her. “Approaching city surface streets. Grid disengaging in thirty seconds.” She straightened and took a driving position as the wheel extended from the dashboard.
“Where did you get your ship?” Anne asked as she put her hands on the wheel.
“Tahorton willed her to me and…another person, to help us start our own business.”
“What other person?”
Hawk returned to looking out the window. “His name was Moran.”
“Was?”
“Off limits,” Hawk said, his tone clipped.
“Sorry.”
Hawk stared out the window, and Anne said nothing more until they reached Fitzcarlo’s a few minutes later.
Anne’s questions about Moran threatened to throw Hawk into another fit of gloom, but he shook it off, determined to enjoy the evening. As they stepped from the car and it drove away to auto park, Hawk regretted his abrupt manner and offered his arm in a conciliatory gesture. Anne took it, and they walked into the restaurant.
Fitzcarlo’s was as swanky as Hawk expected. A live maitre d’ dressed in a vibrant blue and white uniform greeted them and guided them through the restaurant, resplendent with dark wood walls and tastefully expensive statues dotting the floor. A six-meter high, three-tiered fountain, sculpted from an ochre-colored stone, occupied the center of the dining room. Water flowed from the top, making a soothing, almost musical sound as it sluiced from bowl to bowl. They walked past it. Hawk saw several small fish darting about the bottom container.
The maitre d’ sat them in a booth that provided a clear view of the fountain while somehow cutting the water’s noise level to little more than a melodic whisper.
They studied the menu while a server android, gleaming of silver and blue plating, appeared with a loaf of hot bread and ramekin of fresh butter, and then waited with mechanical patience.
“After you, Anne,” Hawk said.
“I’ll have the vern-ka in feyd sauce and a pillara salad,” Anne said.
“Are the escargot really from Earth?” Hawk asked.
“Yes, sir. Flown here on the fastest rip engine freighter available to assure maximum freshness.”
Hawk doubted the truth of the android’s last statement. “Are they breaded?”
“No, sir, they are sautéed in butter and garlic and served with a light baolin sauce.”
“We’ll have the escargot as an appetizer, no sauce. I’ll take the fasil steak and a pillara salad.” He looked at Anne. “A bottle of wine?”
“Certainly.”
“A bottle of the Kalos Seven Pinar,” Hawk told the android.
“Excellent, sir,” the server said, taking their menus.
“I understand this place employs live chefs,” Hawk said as the android wheeled away.
“I would hope so, considering those prices.”
Even though he agreed, Hawk waved a hand, dismissing her concerns. “It’s not that bad. I’ve invested well.”
“So, how does Hawk and his crew make a living?”
“We’re corporate mercenaries.”
“Corp Mercs? I knew it had to be something exciting.” Her face lit up. “Of course, I should have made the connection when I saw your ship’s name. So, you’re the captain of the Knights of The Flaming Star.”
“You’ve heard of us?” Hawk asked, surprised.
“A friend of mine works for Computronic Gridlinx. She told me about your recovery of their CEO. A great job, from what she said.”
“Thank you. We try.”
Their wine arrived, and the conversation paused. When the android waiter had served them and moved away, Anne said, “Have you ever done any work with the Planetary Council?”
“No,” Hawk lied.
“That’s a shame. I hear government contracts can be very lucrative.”
“They can be. So are corporation deals, and they let us do things our way. I’ve heard from others there’s way too much bureaucracy with the Council.”
It was time to steer the conversation in another direction. More questions about work would lead to ‘I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you’ type answers.
“Enough about me,” Hawk said. “Tell me about what you do, who Mr. Daratar is, and what we might be able to do to help you.”
“As you guessed, Mr. Daratar is my boss. I’ve worked for him for about four years. We’ve been having an affair. I told him I wanted to end it. He doesn’t want it to end, and he’s been pressuring me to continue. I decided it was time to put some pressure back on him. A friend of mine told me I could find some muscle at the Grotto. Obviously, Barto had me followed, and that’s why Malix showed up.”
“That’s it?” Hawk said.
Anne didn’t speak for a moment, her eyes shifting down to the table. “Well, yes.”
“I don’t mean to make light of it,” Hawk said, “I just expected there to be more. Exactly how much ‘pressure’ do you want applied?”
“Just enough to get him to leave me alone and convince him it’s over.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to find another job?”
“I’m already checking into that. I still need him to know I’m serious when I say no.”
The waiter rolled up with the escargot and the pillara salads and laid everything on the table.
“I think we can help you,” Hawk said, picking up his silverware and taking a deep whiff of the pungent gray pillara leaves. Though they weren’t the most appetizing-looking vegetables, Hawk couldn’t resist their flavor, a mélange of roasted walnut, garlic, and onion. “What’s more, we won’t even charge you.”
Anne picked up her cutlery. “I thought mercenaries charged for everything.”
“We’re corporate Mercs,” Hawk said. “You’re not a corporation. I don’t like women being mistreated, especially by people they think they can trust.” Hawk gave a wide grin. “Besides, I can’t see it taking more than a half-hour, so it’s not worth the time it would take to bill you.”
“You think you can get him to leave me alone that quickly.”
“I can almost guarantee it. I’ll come by with Wolf tomorrow, and we’ll chat with him. Wolf can be persuasive with few words.”
“I believe it,” Anne speared her salad with a fork.
“I would still consider looking for different work, though.” Hawk picked up his wine glass. “Here’s to you, and a life where you get what you desire.”
“Sounds good to me,” Anne said, raising her glass.
With business settled, they finished their meal discussing the non-topics that occupy casual conversation. A few times Anne tried to ask questions about Ship and her crew. Hawk gently steered the discussion into safer areas, claiming he preferred to talk about anything but work. Hawk found the meal pleasant, despite the occasional awkward silence of two people who don’t know each other and his near certainty that Anne wasn’t talking to him so much as probing for information.
“Would you care for dessert?” the robot asked as it cleared away their plates.
Anne looked at Hawk. “I know this wonderful ice cream parlor a few streets over. Let’s get dessert there.”
“Perfect. Dessert, and then perhaps dancing afterward at this little club I know,” Hawk said.
“You dance?” Anne asked with upraised brows.
“I do. And I would appreciate your discretion in not mentioning it to my crew.”
“Sounds fantastic. Your secret is safe with me.”
“No dessert,” Hawk told the robot.
“Very good, sir. The check has been handled by your vessel. Thank you for dining at Fitzcarlo’s. Have a wonderful evening.”
As they stepped out of the restaurant, a brisk wind blew down the street. Dressed in a suit coat, Hawk didn’t really feel the air’s chill bite. When Anne drew up her arms, Hawk wrapped his arm
around her, trying to offer some warmth.
“That was a wonderful dinner.” Anne moved closer. “And good company.”
“On both sides,” Hawk said.
Anne pointed down a small side street. “Let’s cut through here. It leads straight to the shop.”
Here’s the moment of truth, Hawk thought. They stepped onto the side street and left the bright lights of the main way at their backs. While Hawk scanned the alley, he made two sharp clicks with his tongue, the signal for a status report.
“Game on,” Ashron’s voice spoke in Hawk’s head, courtesy of the receiver implanted against his jawbone Though Hawk couldn’t see them, he knew Ashron had a bird’s eye view of the alley through three impeller drones, watching for signs of anything suspicious.
Where the alley was at its darkest, Hawk caught surreptitious movement in the shadows ahead.
“You’ve got three in front and three in back, sticking to the shadows,” Ashron said. “Big guys with really nice particle weapons. Not your standard street thugs. And your girlfriend has a Pin laser in her purse, so don’t put your back to her.”
What a shame, Hawk thought. “Anne,” he said softly.
“Hmmmm?” Her gold eyes regarded him.
“Keep walking and don’t be alarmed; I think we’re about to be attacked.”
“Really?” She asked, glancing around.
“Yes,” Hawk told her, trying to keep his gaze in all directions.
“I’ve got a small Pin laser in my purse if you think it will help.”
“Thanks for telling me. Do you know how to use it?”
“I’ve practiced, but I’ve never had to use it for real.”
“Keep it hidden for now, until I know what we’re up against. I’ve got a plan.” He turned to her and held her close. “You’ll have to play along.”
He leaned over to kiss her. She returned his embrace with equal enthusiasm. Either she was good at her job, or she wasn’t in on the ambush. He broke off the kiss and spotted a small recess between two buildings. “Follow me,” he said.
They jogged about five meters into the alley and slipped into an alcove. It gave him ample cover and kept Anne close. As he kept a watchful eye on the narrow lane, he pulled out a snub nose automatic and a double-edged knife. “Now they have to come to us,” he said, holding the gun hidden in shadow.
“So, what did the kiss have to do with your plan?” Anne asked, her voice light.
“Nothing,” Hawk said with a smile. “I just wanted a kiss from a beautiful woman.”
Anne’s return smile didn’t reach her eyes.
He put his attention on the alley, watching for the assailants. A pair of red brick, three-story buildings designed in an old architectural style formed the alleyway. Hawk touched the wall; real brick, not a molded plastic façade. Flying debris could be a problem. He spotted low brick holding pens at six-meter intervals, no doubt filled with trash cans. It would do for protection, as long as no one had a grenade and good aim. The windowless buildings decreased the chances of random witnesses. It was a prime spot for an ambush. One he would have chosen himself. Hawk clicked his tongue twice again.
“They’re getting close,” Ashron said, “walking like they own the place. I can take them out right now. Just give the word”
“I wonder what they want?” Hawk asked.
“Who cares?” Ashron returned.
“Probably our money,” Anne said at the same time as Ashron, unable to hear his response.
“I think it’s more than that,” Hawk said, answering them both. “I’m sure they’ll let us know.”
“Fine,” Ashron said. “But don’t yell at me if they shoot first and ask questions later.”
Six men approached, three from either side. The dim light from the main road silhouetted the ones in front, and darkness hid the ones behind. Hawk couldn’t discern facial features, yet he easily spotted the H&K TL7 particle pistol each man held.
“Hold steady,” Hawk said in a low voice, meant more for Ashron than Anne.
“Okay,” Ashron said. “If they gun you down in cold blood, can I have your cabin?”
The mystery men stopped approximately six meters away. This close, light filtered down from the twin full moons above and revealed the men’s grim faces.
The largest man stepped forward, gun held in front, his hairless head gleaming under the moonlight.
“Twitch?” Hawk asked. “Look, that thing back at the bar was nothing personal. I was defending the lady’s honor. Let’s discuss this like rational men.”
Malix placed his oversized hand against his dark and swollen face. “Are you Sean Grey, also known as Hawk, member of Force 13 and leader of the C5 team known as the Knights of The Flaming Star?”
“You already know the answer. Who’s asking?”
The bald man offered a shark’s grin. “One-Eye sends his regards and says he’ll see you in hell.”
That surprised him. “One-Eye? Who the hell is One-Eye?”
Before Malix could answer, Hawk heard the whine of a Pin laser powering up behind him. He turned and found Anne aiming the small weapon at his head.
“I told you not to put your back to her,” Ashron said.
“I hate it when I’m right,” Hawk said. “I’m guessing everything you’ve told me since we met is bullshit.”
“I did enjoy dinner, but I’ve had better kisses,” Anne told him, her voice ice.
Hawk shrugged. “I figured I should get at least one kiss before I got screwed.”
Anne’s gold eyes narrowed. “Out of professional curiosity, how did you know?”
“Call it intuition. A lot of things didn’t add up. For what it’s worth, I was really hoping I was wrong.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. Like you told Malix, it’s nothing personal.”
“If it’s not personal, the least you could have done was pay for your half of the meal. Game’s over.”
Anne gave him a puzzled cock of her head. A sudden whining buzz overhead drew her attention upward. A flare exploded two meters above them with a burst of white light. Anne cried out, shielding her sensitive eyes from the brightness.
Hawk lashed out, swinging the knife toward Anne while lifting his pistol and shooting at Malix.
The knife caught Anne in the forearm. She shrieked in pain and dropped the laser as the blade sliced deep.
Malix’s expression disappeared as a crimson fountain replaced his nose. He collapsed to the ground. Hawk fired at the man standing to the dead man’s right. The second man fell, a slug through his chest. A third assailant, to Malix’s left, lurched forward with a surprised look on his face and several needler rounds protruding from his back.
“Got him,” Ashron said.
The other three scattered for cover, firing wildly.
“Help!” Anne screamed as she ran toward a crowd gathering at the end of the alley.
As he dove over the nearest brick partition, Hawk fired his gun in the general direction of the attackers. He slammed into several metal containers. Pungent refuse poured from the upset cans as their lids popped off with dull clangs. More dust and brick chips poured on him from the wall behind as it took a pounding from the attacker’s wild fire.
He wiped the grime from his face and glanced around. As he suspected, it was a garbage pen. Above the odor of rotted food, Hawk smelled burning fabric. He looked down to find his suit coat on fire. A particle beam had passed close enough to ignite the cloth. He patted the flames out. “Can you take them out?” he asked Ashron.
“They’ve settled, so yes.”
“Do it.”
Ashron giggled like a kid. “Death from above.”
A laser beam lanced down from the sky six meters above Hawk and struck three meters away. It surprised him one of the assailants had gotten that close.
A second later the beam disappeared, then reappeared. Reaching out at an angle, it hit seven meters away.
The third assailant realized what was happening. He jumped up fr
om hiding and ran down the alley. The laser caught him at the base of the neck and severed his spine. He flopped like a boneless doll and slammed into the ground.
“And that’s what you get for messing with the best,” Ashron said as he strolled into the alleyway, a monitoring remote in his hand. The light from the screen gleamed off his scales.
“Or at least the cockiest.”
“You’re one to talk,” Ashron said. “‘Let’s see what they want.’ I could have killed all six, no mess. But you had to get them stirred up. The drones don’t do well with moving targets.”
“Then perhaps you and Gerard should invent better drones.” Hawk turned toward the end of the alley.
“I’m going to tell Gerard you said that,” Ashron said. Hawk didn’t pay attention. He spotted Anne’s lithe form as she stood in the crowd, a hand over her bleeding arm. Hawk didn’t dare risk a shot with her so close to civilians. She caught his eye, waved, and then walked away. Sirens wailed, drawing close
“Shit.” Hawk hated letting her escape. Though not as much as he hated the thought of sitting in a jail cell trying to explain the six dead bodies. “Where’s the transport?”
“Right there.” Ashron pointed toward the end of the alley away from the crowd, at an economy model white vehicle.
“What is that?”
“Hopefully something the police won’t notice,” Ashron said. “Ship hacked into the grid and borrowed it. She’ll return it when we’re done. With a bit of luck, she’ll have it there before the owner even leaves the restaurant and finds it gone.”
They ran the fifteen meters, Hawk fearing any moment to see police cars barreling toward them. None showed up as they slipped in and pulled away, Ashron at the wheel.
“We’re on our way back, Ship,” Hawk said. “Take care of the cameras, lose any evidence of us, this van, and the fight.”
“Taking care of the recording; if they had any live personnel monitoring at the central hub, not much I can do about that.”
“Have to take our chances they were asleep or inattentive.”
“Everyone wants to know: what happened?”
“Assassination attempt. As I feared, Anne—or whatever her name is—was in on it. Ever heard of someone named One-Eye?”
