“And you believed that?”
“I wanted to,” Pyle admitted. “The enormous amounts of digicredits my men and I were making on this job made it easier. We’d have been able to retire after two years and would never have had to worry about money ever again. We were warned about what would happen if we were ever caught or discovered, but the money made it worth the risk. Honestly, we were so careful I didn’t think we’d ever get caught… at least until you two squicks showed up. This is all happening because of you!”
Berenger stepped forward and grabbed Pyle by the throat with his bionic arm. Pyle struggled for air as Berenger held his neck in a tight, robotic grip.
“This is all happening because you greedy sons of kittens started traipsing throughout the Frontier kidnapping little kiddies, dirtbag,” Berenger snarled. “What’s happening here? This is just the reckoning y’all had coming from the start. Now, from what I know about Pinkies, they don’t jump lest someone tells them ‘how high’. So, I want to know who your employer is and the name of this contact you handed the children off to.”
Pyle glared at Berenger, defiantly. “I’m not telling you anything more, lawman,” he growled. “Not until you get me out of here. Once I’m safe, I’ll sing whatever tune you want to hear.”
Berenger scowled. He looked at Deckland as though to get his opinion on the matter.
“I don’t see that we have any other choice,” Deckland said. “Whatever is going on here, it’s bigger than some kidnapping ring. Without Pyle and his testimony, we may never get to the bottom of it.”
Berenger reluctantly released his hold on Pyle, the man gasping for breath the moment he was free.
“Fine,” grumbled Berenger. “We’ll save your worthless hide and get you off this tin can. But if you don’t hold up your end of this bargain, I’m gonna be the one who erases you. Comprende?”
“Yeah, I got it,” Pyle replied, rubbing his neck. “Considering I’ve already been shot twice, you two better step-up your protection game.”
“Don’t worry about us. We’ll do our part,” said Berenger. “Now, c’mon. We need to get to my ship before the Pinkies do.”
Chapter 12
Berenger led the way down the space station’s corridor as Deckland followed, supporting Pyle as he did so.
“We can’t stay in the thoroughfare,” Deckland said. “It’s too open here. If we run into another Pink Sun squad, we’ll be too exposed.”
“Agreed,” said Berenger. “That’s why we’re gonna stick to the maintenance tunnels.”
Berenger approached a wall panel and used his bionic arm to smash the lock there, opening it up to reveal a cramped hallway filled with pipes and conduits that led deeper into the station. He signaled for Deckland to help Pyle through the entrance. Once they were inside, Berenger stepped through, closing the access panel behind them.
The trio made their way through the maintenance corridor, slowed by Pyle’s injuries and the cramped space they all had to maneuver through.
“Do either of you even know where you’re going?” asked Pyle.
Deckland frowned. As a matter of fact, he had no clue either where he was going or where the tunnel they were traversing actually led. He turned back and looked at Berenger.
“I don’t suppose you have a map of the station uploaded to one of your implants, do you?” he asked.
“Not as yet,” Berenger replied as he squeezed past the other men. “But give me a moment and I’ll have a trail blazed for you.”
Berenger led the others until they came upon a junction where an access panel was located. Berenger opened it up to reveal a data terminal he connected to with an interface cable from his bionic arm. He popped open the panel on his forearm and began typing at the screen there, lights blinking as his arm synched up with the data from the terminal.
“What are you doing?” asked Deckland.
“Accessing the station’s primary datacenter,” Berenger replied. “It’s been getting uploads of reports from all its different levels. Pyle was right, it was The Long Haul that exploded. Scatter Tubs has been reported murdered as have the other members of Pyle’s crew. Witnesses have reported that two other teams of eight men moving throughout the station are responsible.”
“Sixteen more men?” said Deckland, grimly.
Berenger nodded. “One group was seen headed for hangar A19, which is where our ship is. The other group is currently unaccounted for.”
“One squad is going to lie in wait while the other hunts us down,” said Pyle, ominously.
“Don’t be getting your gravity in a twist, Pyle,” Berenger said as he unplugged from the terminal. “They ain’t had much luck killin’ us so far.”
“Yeah, but, they’ve come close,” muttered Deckland.
Berenger gave Deckland the stink eye, communicating he wasn’t helping with the situation. “Close don’t count, now, does it?” he said. “I know how to get us to the ship and we know what to expect when we get there. All things being equal, I like our odds. Now follow me. We need to hurry.”
The men followed Berenger as he led them down the twisting maintenance corridors. He was moving quickly, and Deckland was doing his best to usher Pyle along, but Pyle’s injured leg made that difficult. All of them were aware time was not on their side, and the longer it took them to get to The Leadbelly, the greater the likelihood they’d be found and killed. Thus, Pyle was pushing himself to keep pace, despite the pain he was in.
As they walked, Berenger reached up and activated the communicator implanted by his ear. “Wadsworth,” he said, “you read me?”
“Loud and clear, Master Berenger,” the robo-butler replied.
“Expect to be having some company soon, if’n they ain’t already at your doorstep,” he said. “Check The Leadbelly’s sensors. Let me know what she’s seeing.”
“One moment, sir,” Wadsworth said as he did what he was ordered. “Sensors are showing eight life signs positioned around the ship, Master Berenger.”
“Send me their locations.”
“Right away. Oh, and it would seem there are two spacecrafts patrolling the area around our hangar’s plasma window, sir.”
Berenger frowned. “Two of ‘em, eh?” he said. “What type?”
“Sensors show them to be fightercraft, Master Berenger. Scimitar-class tactical starfighters, each one carrying missiles.”
“Right,” Berenger muttered. “We’ll deal with that later. Right now, I want you to prep defense protocol Beta, to be executed on my command.”
“Protocol Beta, sir? Are you sure?”
“Would you prefer to use a different one of our protocols, Wadsworth?”
“No, sir. I’ve just always found protocol Beta to be a tad impolite.”
“Trust me, Wadsworth. The men we’re gonna be dealing with ain’t concerned with manners.”
“As you say, sir. I shall make the proper preparations.”
Berenger led the group through the maze of maintenance corridors in which they had to traverse a few different levels of the station as they worked their way toward the hangar housing The Leadbelly. Finally, they came to an access door leading out into the station proper. Berenger signaled for them to halt, and Pyle leaned up against the wall for support. He was breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Deckland approached his partner.
“He’s not doing well,” Deckland said. “The hits to his shoulder and leg are pretty bad. I’m surprised he’s made it this far. He’s been fighting going into shock. The wounds are cauterized, so he’s not losing blood, but they run deep. If we don’t get him to a med bay soon, they’re going to get infected, and if that happens, he’s in serious trouble.”
“I only care to keep him alive long enough to get the intel we need,” Berenger drawled. “After that, the dirtbag can fester and die slow as far as I’m concerned.”
“He may be a piece of squick, Berenger, but he’s also our only witness as to who’s behind all this,” stressed Deckland. “We’re going to
need him to testify once this case goes to trial, and that means keeping him alive far longer than the immediate future.”
Berenger chuckled, as though the notion of a trial struck him as humorous. “Unfurrow your brow, Rook. I aim to keep all of us alive, immediately and otherwise.”
“Mind if you share exactly how you plan to do that?” Deckland inquired. “Whether we’re up against eight or sixteen, no matter how you look at it, we’re extremely outnumbered.”
“Only if you believe in math more than you believe in me,” Berenger replied. “You wanna know my plan, Rook? It’s mighty simple. I plan to go out there and kill all them Pinkies before they kill us.”
“Far be it from me to question the great Braxxon Berenger and his skill at killing, but even you can’t take on that many men – men who happen to be highly trained ex-soldiers, by the way.”
“You let me worry about that,” Berenger replied. “Now clean the stubborn out of your ears. See that access door, yonder?”
Berenger nodded toward the door leading out of the maintenance tunnel. Deckland acknowledged it. “Yes,” he replied.
“That opens up into a thoroughfare leading to the hangar,” Berenger said. “A number of other maintenance tunnels open up into said thoroughfare, but none of them leads to the hangar directly. That means we’re gonna have to enter from the main corridor…”
“That’s crazy,” Deckland objected. “The Pink Sun squad lying in wait at the ship will see us coming from a mile away. And if the hunting team is in the thoroughfare, they’ll cut us to shreds.”
“That they will,” Berenger replied with a nod. “Which is why you’re going to need to move quick when I give you the signal.”
“The signal?” said Deckland, confused. “Berenger, what the blazes are you talking about?”
“You’re gonna stay here and protect Pyle while I go sort out this predicament.”
“Berenger – there are eight of them out there!” pressed Deckland.
“Don’t fret none, Rook. I’ve handled worse odds before.”
“I can’t let you go alone,” Deckland said. “You need backup!”
“Someone’s gotta protect our witness. Like you said, if something happens to Pyle, we’ve lost our only lead as to who’s behind this whole thing. Besides…”
Berenger smiled and tipped his hat in Deckland’s direction.
“I got all the backup I’ll need.”
With that, Berenger turned and made his way toward the access door. Deckland hesitated, wanting to follow his partner to watch his back, but he also knew someone had to stay with Pyle. If Berenger failed, Deckland would be the only hope of finding a way to get Pyle off the station and to get his testimony on the record. And as much as it annoyed Deckland to admit it, Berenger was probably well aware of that fact, too, which was the reason he was choosing to go it alone.
Berenger opened the access door and peeked out into the main corridor, glancing in each direction and scanning the hallway to ensure there wasn’t an ambush waiting for him. It was obvious the Pink Suns had scared away any bystanders since the corridor was completely empty.
Berenger stepped out into the hallway and closed the access door behind him, walking toward the hangar whose entrance loomed large before him at the end of the corridor. He pulled out a cigar as he walked and lit it up before tapping the comm unit behind his ear. “Wadsworth,” he said. “Prepare to give our guests a proper welcome.”
“Acknowledged, sir.”
Berenger sauntered up to the hangar entrance, moving to the side where the lip of the large arched doorway offered him some cover. A quick scan of the hangar with his bionic eye told him the Pink Suns were all where The Leadbelly’s sensors had told him they’d be. The attack squad was littered throughout the hangar, all of them using either cargo crates, vehicles, or structural pillars as cover. Two of the hitmen were in the catwalks above The Leadbelly, two were at its sides, two were stationed to the rear of the ship facing the hangar entrance, and two were at the front of the ship, which was facing the open plasma window that led to space.
“Howdy,” Berenger called out as he rolled his cigar between his fingers.
Berenger could practically feel the crosshairs of the Pink Sun blasters aiming at his location.
“You one of them Rangers that’s been causing us trouble?” came a response from one of the men, probably the squad’s leader, who was behind a stack of cargo containers located in front of The Leadbelly’s rear cargo bay door.
“I’m your huckleberry,” Berenger responded.
“You took out one of our squads,” the Pink Sun leader said. “You’re going to pay for that.”
“Just put it on my tab,” Berenger said. “And unless you want that bill to be getting bigger, I suggest you lay down your weapons and surrender peaceful-like, lest I be forced to drop the hammer and dispense some indiscriminate justice.”
Berenger could hear the men within the hangar laugh, secure in their superior numbers and fortified positions. Furthermore, he could hear one of them radio to the other squad that one of their targets had arrived at the hangar, officially putting the showdown on a clock.
“You’re outnumbered and out-gunned, Ranger,” the squad leader replied. “Right now, you’re just delaying the inevitable. Show yourself, and I’ll end it quick. That’s the best I can promise you.”
“This ain’t gonna go the way you think, compatriot,” Berenger warned. “Last chance. Do you surrender?”
“Suck my jimmies, old-timer.”
Berenger put his cigar back in his mouth and bit down on it. “So much for being polite,” he muttered before activating his subdermal comm unit. “Wadsworth, time to greet our guests.”
There was a clicking sound as the rear cargo bay door of The Leadbelly unsealed and its hydraulics were disengaged. The ramp fell open, unceremoniously hitting the ground, causing it to wobble and vibrate from the impact. The sudden noise drew the attention of the Pink Suns who all turned to see Wadsworth hovering in the entrance to the ship’s cargo bay, wielding two grenade launchers in his robotic hands.
“I really do apologize for this, gentlemen,” the robot said before promptly opening fire.
With soft PLOOP sounds, disk-shaped grenades were launched at the feet of the men who’d positioned themselves in front of the ramp. Berenger heard one of them scream “STUN GRENADES!” immediately before the first detonation.
A loud sonic squeal erupted along with a flash of light as the stun grenades exploded. The Pink Suns who’d been caught off-guard were forced to cover their ears as they remained dazed from the blinding concussion of the non-lethal explosion.
As Wadsworth quickly hovered down the ramp, he strafed to the side, firing more concussion grenades that were immediately detonating around the hanger, forcing every single Pink Sun mercenary to leave his cover to avoid being disabled.
Berenger smiled and flicked his cigar away before bringing a finger and his thumb to his lips and sending out a loud whistle.
Upon that signal, Spur raced out of the ship, the Lampak snarling as it leapt forward, its sharp teeth latching onto the throat of one of the Pink Suns who’d been dazed by Wadsworth’s initial attack. With a sharp jerk of his head, Spur ripped his prey’s throat open, causing the man to cry out with a feeble gurgle before choking on his own blood.
The Pink Sun leader, though still blinded by the stun grenade, turned his weapon toward the Lampak, but Spur moved faster than the man could account for and pounced upon him, once more tearing at the man’s throat with his sharp teeth before his prey could even get off a shot.
Berenger moved out from his cover, immediately taking aim at the two snipers in the hangar’s catwalks. He targeted them with his bionic eye while they were still disoriented from the stun grenades, aiming at one with his bionic arm and the other with his regular one, firing simultaneously. Both shots landed, dropping one of the men and sending the other over the side of the catwalk to plummet to the hangar floor below.
<
br /> One of the Pink Suns aimed his weapon at Wadsworth as the robot continued hovering around the sides of the ship, firing off the stun grenades. The mercenary fired as he stumbled from the concussions of the grenades, his shots going wide as Wadsworth looked at him.
“How rude,” the robo-butler said right before a third arm of his produced a blaster pistol which promptly shot the man, dropping him.
Berenger moved into the hangar, going around the opposite side of the ship from Wadsworth where two more of the Pink Suns were moving to reposition themselves. He barely had time to lock onto them before one of the men opened fire, causing Berenger to dodge to the side before returning the blast, his shot hitting his target square in the forehead.
Spur raced past the man Berenger had just shot and went flying toward the other Pink Sun, the impact from the large animal bringing the mercenary to the floor before the Lampak started to tear at his throat. The last assailant attempted to make a run for it but didn’t get far before Wadsworth gunned him down.
Berenger took a moment to scan the hangar, just to make sure there were no more attackers left alive. Spur came up to his side, his muzzle stained red with blood as the Lampak licked his chops, a hoarse laugh escaping from him. Wadsworth hovered toward Berenger as the Ranger became satisfied the Pink Sun threat had been neutralized.
“All our unwanted guests have received a proper welcome, Master Berenger,” Wadsworth reported.
“So it would seem. But keep your weapons handy, Wadsworth. We ain’t welcomed everybody yet,” Berenger replied before he tapped at his comm unit again. “Rook, you read me?”
Back in the maintenance tunnel, Deckland had stationed himself by the door, peeking out to try to see what Berenger had been doing. He’d heard the sounds of battle and was relieved when his partner’s voice suddenly came in over his datapad. He reached into his pocket and answered the call.
“I’m here.”
“Time to move,” Berenger ordered. “Now.”
“On my way,” Deckland said, looking at Pyle and signaling to him. “Come on, we need to go.”
Lawmen- Rook and Berenger Page 14