Captain James Heron: First into the Fray: Prequel to Harry Heron: Into the Unknown of the Harry Heron Series

by Patrick G Cox

  Marcus noticed that one of the military types on the platform was surreptitiously recording the speaker.

  A JRF member stood and approached the podium. She raised her hands in an appeal to calm. “We’re not aware of these problems because the transport arrangements are not under our control.” The crowd bellowed in dissent. No one believed her. “We’ll certainly raise these issues on your behalf with the Governor. We’ve no desire to negatively impact your livelihoods, but our research is vitally important, and we must take steps to protect it.” She glanced at the others. “Perhaps we can find an agreeable arrangement for compensation for any losses caused.”

  “Tell that to the bastard sitting next to you! Since he took over our bank, he’s raised the rates, and his staff are piling on charges and making ‘mistakes’ in their entries among other little problems—and then we have to cope with the increased shipping rates, anti-competition laws from the Governor, and now you lot!” The speaker was an older man, one of the second generation of settlers, and the former manager of the bank now taken over by a new banking group from off-world. His comments aroused a chorus of angry dissent, and Marcus again noted the man recording the crowd. He adjusted his position, hoping the tiny recorder hidden in the collar of his shirt jacket was capturing the faces on the stage as well as the discussion.

  The banker, Hamadi, smiled. “I am merely carrying out the orders from my head office. Your bank was not making any profit, and now it has a healthy reserve. Yes, it is tough on some of you, and I don’t enjoy having to foreclose on your homes or your businesses, but—” The rest of his sentence was drowned out as the anger in the audience boiled over.

  “Come on, Petra,” Marcus whispered to his wife. “Time to get out of here. I’m pretty sure there’s a squad of Johnstone goons just waiting for a signal.” He held his wife’s hand, and, keeping to the wall, he managed to reach a door. Several others joined them as the main doors burst inward and armed security men charged in and fanned out, stunning and beating anyone who resisted. “Looks like they have the exits covered—we’ll go through the plant room. Follow me.”

  Leading his wife and the five others who’d joined them, Marcus thought quickly. “This way! If they saw us leave, they’ll expect us to try to get out through the plant room doors. If we go up we can get to the accumulator converters. There’s another way out—through the cable tunnel. It’ll mean climbing down the cable duct, a tight fit for some of us, but we don’t have a choice!” He grinned.

  The stocky man he directed this at laughed. “If your damned steak cultures weren’t so good, Marcus, I’d be a hell of a lot fitter, but I’ll manage. My adrenalin’s pumping now. Let’s do this! No point staying here waiting for the goons to come looking for someone to beat up. By the sound of it, it’s getting ugly in there.”

  Marcus nodded. “You lead the way, Petra. We’ll bring up the rear. I want to make sure it’s not easy for them to follow us. Heiko, give me a hand.”

  Between them, Heiko and Marcus moved several large items to partially block the passage, then blocked the door with several forklifts.

  “Go, Marcus,” said Heiko. “I’ve a key code for this one.” He grinned. “They forgot to ask for it back when they sacked me from the post as Chief of Maintenance.”

  Marcus laughed. “Typical morons. Come on, They’ll be looking for whoever they haven’t found at the meeting—and I want to be back at work when they do.”

  Chapter 8

  Slow Burn

  Stepping out of her apartment suite, Felicity was just in time to see a transport pod move away from the apartment of her erstwhile Number 2, Guiseppe Francois. Before stepping into the waiting pod, she ran a routine scan to determine if any listening and tracking devices were in or around it. Finding nothing, she entered the pod and inserted her personal chip.

  Moments later, she knew something was wrong. The pod was not following the route it should, but was heading down into a part of the station filled with workshops, power generating plants, waste disposal and the air and water treatment units. Immediately she activated the emergency distress beacon implanted in her neck and prepared to defend herself from whoever or whatever awaited her.

  Catching sight of Captain Heron with another officer from the Vanguard just as her pod began to descend to the lower levels, she waved quickly to get his attention, and hoped the gesture would convey that she had a problem.

  “What the devil?” James Heron watched as the pod sped by. A quick use of his cerebral implant gave him the answer—there should be nothing on the lower levels requiring a Project Administrator to go there. He strode to an idle pod. “Quick, Fritz, I want to follow that pod. Felicity—Ms Rowanberg—has no call to be going down to those levels. These pods refuse to go there anyway!”

  “One moment, Herr Kapitän.” Fritz von Dieffenbach opened a panel, pulled out a small portable interface, and entered several commands. “You want to follow her? Here we go.”

  James Heron laughed. “Well, I’m damned. Well done, Fritz. Let’s see if we can catch up with her.”

  Descending the ramp, the Commander fed instructions into the pod control unit using his interface.

  “Do you normally carry that around, Fritz? Useful little device.”

  Rheinhardt von Dieffenbach chuckled. “Also probably illegal to use on one of these units. It’s my AI communicator.” He entered a new command and the pod changed direction. Some distance ahead a pod stopped in the passage, and two men addressed the occupant.

  “There, that’s the lady’s pod,” said Fritz. “It seems she has some trouble.”

  “Turn us into that passage, Fritz. Quickly.”

  As soon as the vehicle stopped, James Heron said, “Fritz, I need a diversion. Can you get this thing to approach them from the other side?”

  “Sure, Captain, but there’s two of them, and they will be in a hurry now.”

  “True. Just give me a diversion. Quickly.” With that, James hopped out and was on the move.

  Striding back to the intersection, the Captain tried to hear what was going on. The background noise was a nuisance, but it could work in his favour. A door next to him opened when he operated the control, and he peered into a large machinery space. He spotted a second door near to where he estimated the Admin officer’s pod had been.

  The door opened into the passage on the other side of the stopped pod. Felicity lay on the deck, her lip cut and one eye swelling. One of the men knelt next to her, evidently looking for something in her clothing. The other was watching the passage in the opposite direction. Both showed signs of their victim not having gone down quietly. James saw his opportunity and moved like a striking snake. He had the man incapacitated and moaning on the ground within seconds, and then he dealt with the other attacker, who got in one blow and regretted the attempt. James Heron excelled at martial arts and knew how to bring a man down without killing him, but his opponents sometimes wished he had, just to put them out of their misery.

  “Captain Heron! Captain! Stop, sir. We have them!” It was Felicity’s voice, weak but insistent.

  Letting his victim crumple to the floor where he moaned in agony, the Captain adjusted his jacket and nodded to the leader of the Security team to deal with the two thugs, then he knelt at Felicity’s side. “Just stay still, Felicity. The medics will sort this out. Do you know who they are?”

  She winced in pain as she shifted position then gave up the effort. “Said they were going to make sure I didn’t spoil anyone’s game.” She paused as a medic knelt next to her and began taking her vital signs. “Thanks, Captain. I wish I’d seen a bit more of the action.” She managed a grin. “Sounded like some fierce man-to-man combat going on. I think you kicked his—”

  “Not a character trait I like to display too often, but I’m glad I could be of assistance.” He tapped the medic on the shoulder. “Make sure she’s given the best treatment. I’ll be checking.”

  “Yes, sir.” The medic looked into the Captain’s eyes and fe
lt the chill of his stern intent in those three words. “Yes, sir. Complete check-over, and full treatment. Yes, sir.”

  Striding to where Fritz waited, James seated himself. “I think I need a shower, a change of uniform, and a whiskey. Better take me to my quarters, Fritz.”

  “Yes, Herr Kapitän.” Fritz made no other comment. He’d seen enough to know that the Captain had come very close to killing at least one of Ms Rowanberg’s attackers, all with his bare hands and without a drop of blood being spilled. “I do not think they will be in a position to make another attempt, Kapitän, but perhaps you will need to be on your guard from now on.”

  Marcus Grover heard the raised voices and Petra’s protests from his office. A quick glance assured him there was nothing visible that would give away his only having just changed into his working rig for a visit to his culture tanks. He took a deep breath and muttered, “Here we go.”

  The door was flung open by the Chief of Security. “Grover? I’ve got you this time.”

  Petra put on a good show, prompted, in truth, by her very real fear. “Marcus, what’s going on? These people claim you started a riot at some meeting in town!”

  Marcus ignored her and instead pinned his eyes on the Security Chief. “Who the hell do you think you are barging in here?” He paused when he heard the doors to his tank room being flung open. “Keep your damned people out of there! They’ll contaminate everything!” He strode forward, and the Security Chief stepped into his path to block him.

  “Get out!” Marcus shouted. “You and all your goons, get out, and don’t come barging in here again with your accusations.”

  “These aren’t accusations. You started the riot at the meeting in town. We have it on record.” The Security Chief tried to stop Grover pushing him out of the office.

  “Must be a bit of magic then, because my surveillance video of the culture room will prove that Heiko and I have been busy setting up fresh beef cultures all afternoon and evening!” Marcus indicated the prominent security camera in the corner of the ceiling. “I haven’t time to go and listen to a bunch of liars blabbering about how bastards like you are here for our benefit. And you’d better have a warrant for this, or I’m laying charges for attempted sabotage of my business, damage to my property, assault on my wife and anything else I can think of. Now get those goons out of my culture room!”

  Heiko arrived, his work uniform torn open. “Congratulations.” He sketched a mocking salute to the Security Chief. “I hope your pals up at that circus on the hill know how to cure fungal lung. Those morons of yours opened a spore tank—without protection.” He chuckled in derision.

  The Security Chief looked confused. “What do you mean without protection? They’ve got armour and helmets—”

  “Against weapons maybe. You think we wear these suits for fun? To look smart? You breathe in those spores, and inside a day or two your lungs look like a fungus farm.” Marcus turned to Heiko. “Did they spill much?”

  “About fifty kilos.” Heiko shrugged. “We’ll need to decontaminate the whole place.”

  Marcus faced the Security Chief. “For the last time, get your goons out of my premises—and NOT the way you came in. Heiko, show them out the back door, through the decontamination showers.” He held up a hand as the security officer tried to protest. “I’m not going to let you spread those spores through my home, my business and anywhere else. My advice is to get to a med-unit ASAP—and don’t ever try a stunt like this again.”

  Word of the attempt on Felicity Rowanberg spread quickly. James Heron found himself being accorded extra courtesy by the people under his command, and a degree of circumspection from the officials and managers he dealt with on the Dock. Presenting himself at the Med Facility, he asked where Felicity might be found.

  Glancing at the uniform and the name tag, the nurse smiled. “Captain Heron? Oh, yes, sir. She’s in Unit 221B. I’ll tell them you’re coming. Straight down this corridor, then first left. Her room is at the end.”

  “Thank you, Ms Patel.” Striding down the corridor, he found the cross passage and spotted the room number. Then it struck him. The nurse had said she would tell ‘them’ he was coming. Who was ‘them’? Alert for a trap, he opened the door, noting the connecting door to the room he had just passed, the med-unit where Felicity was being treated, and a man in the uniform of a Fleet Captain.

  “Thanks for rescuing Felicity, James. You beat my team to the punch by a couple of minutes. They’re a bit upset about it.” The laugh was deep and sincere. “You spoiled the other side’s plan, but now you may be a target.” Standing, the stranger smiled. “I’m using the name Brown while I’m here.”

  Taken aback, Captain Heron hesitated. He recognised the Admiral. “Thank you, Captain…Brown.”

  Amusement tugging at his eyes and mouth, the Admiral indicated a seat. “Mister will do when I’m not in uniform. Felicity tells me she thought you were ready to kill those thugs. Can’t have that, you know. Dead agents can’t be turned, and certainly can’t tell us what we need to know.”

  James Heron laughed. “Well, I’m no killer, but I do take it very unkindly when people play dirty.” Glancing at the patient, he asked, “Did they do any serious damage?”

  She laughed then winced. “Ouch. My ribs took a beating, but otherwise, I’m lucky.” She glanced at the Admiral posing as Captain Brown. “The Boss tells me the other two will be in intensive care for a while.”

  “Am I supposed to feel remorse?” James grinned. “Because I don’t. Two thugs against one agent is unacceptable.” Relaxing a little, he asked, “Are you going to be allowed to come back to work? There’s been a remarkable improvement in the Admin since you took over, and I’d hate to see it slip back into disarray. Besides, I was going to ask if you’d have dinner with me again—assuming it’s allowed, of course.”

  Felicity’s return to work raised something of a stir. Her erstwhile Number 2, Guiseppe—Gus —Francois seemed at pains to assure her of his support. His air of superiority had vanished, replaced by an almost guilty demeanour, and now he could not do enough for her. She couldn’t help wondering if there was some connection between his departing his apartment just ahead of her being attacked. So far, Fleet Security had failed to find any connection, but she wasn’t so sure.

  “Thanks for holding the fort, Gus.” She deliberately used the shortened form of his name, as he preferred. “Everything does seem to be on track now.”

  “No problem, Felicity.” He hesitated. “Is it true Captain Heron almost killed those men with his bare hands?”

  Suppressing her desire to laugh at his anxious expression—Gus had a small build with no muscle mass whatsoever—she nodded. “So I’m told. I’m afraid I didn’t actually see a great deal of it, but I believe he is an expert in several forms of martial art.”

  Gus shuddered, but to the astute observer, it was more like a shiver of delight. “So fierce, so brave, so tall and strong, yet so polite and patrician.” He practically sighed with suppressed desire, then tried to adopt a more serious tone. “You never hear him raise his voice. He probably doesn’t have to because he has such a commanding presence.”

  Felicity smiled at Gus’s effusive praise. “No, you don’t, do you?” It struck her that the Captain exuded an air of quiet command. His orders were always delivered in polite terms, but very few people made the mistake of not carrying them out immediately. “I expect he doesn’t have to though.” She laughed. “You don’t get appointed to command a ship like the Vanguard unless you know how to get people to do what you want them to.”

  He can command me any day, Gus mused, and let his mind wander for a brief moment. Oh well, back to business. “There’s a rumour that Mr Ribble’s replacement will be arriving next week. Oh, and there’ve been some rather strange people from Fleet Security asking questions of us all.” He shuddered. “Poor Rendell had to see the medics, his nerves were so bad after they went through his desk and his workstation. I would’ve been in a tizzy.”

&
nbsp; “Did they find anything?” she asked, her face neutral. She knew exactly what had been found, and though it didn’t incriminate anyone, it certainly suggested several needed closer scrutiny, Rendell Fuchs being one of them.

  “Evidently not, but they were very determined.”

  Deep in the Vanguard’s hull, the installation engineer checked that no one else was in earshot. “We’ve new instructions. For now we play exactly to the specifications. They’re watching and checking everything we install. Pass the word to the others. There’s going to be a shortage of some components, which means they’ll have no choice but to accept alternatives.”

  “That’s a relief. Ever since those idiots tried to teach that admin chick to mind her own business, the dock and the ship are swarming with security.” The technician paused, matching up tails for the unit he was installing. “I heard that woman from Client Relations is annoyed. Somebody spoiled her pitch to the admin woman.”

  “Be careful who you talk to about that. Dysson is more than she seems. A few higher-ups are taking instructions from her. Talking about it can get you into more trouble than you think. Anyway, I’ve got a few more people to see. Just make damned sure everything is per spec unless it’s not available—then you wait for instructions. Got it?”

  “I get you.” The technician laughed. “Seems to me somebody’s bonus is on the line by the sound of it.”

  “Probably more than just a few bonuses if anything else gets picked up.” Preparing to leave, the engineer added, “And keep it buttoned. There’s a lot at stake here, more than you know, and more than either of us wants to know if I make my guess right. I’ll see you later.” The Fleet Security people suspected sabotage, and those guys didn’t play nice. He didn’t know exactly what was going on with the company, but there were some damned strange people in key positions, and some damned strange instructions being given to deviate from the specifications for this build.