by Gavin Magson
On the floor by his feet Ajax laid out his remaining ammunition. It was not as much as he had hoped for, yet he was thankful for every last bullet. Ajax knew he would have to use it sparingly, which was a problem against so many assailants. Rummaging through his jacket produced three explosive rifle rounds, those he had left were sitting several streets away and useless to him.
Ajax popped out two bullets from a full magazine and replaced them with the explosive rounds, saving one for an emergency. The rest of the ammunition went back in its relative pockets, with the exception of one full magazine, which he used the small reel of tape he carried to strap upside down to the side of the mixed magazine. He loaded the explosive topped magazine first and grinned at his own simple brilliance; the double magazine should cut down on his loading time.
Ajax laid down on the floor and shimmied across the ground until he was just looking out onto the street, the visible part of his head and torso masked by rubble and debris. He rested his guns barrel on a mound in front of him and watched the scene unfold through the telescopic sights. It was all too soon before a sudden vibration in his leg signalled the trio were ready.
His hopes raised when he saw the last item tossed onto the back of the vehicle and several of the men begin to climb aboard as the engine roared into life. It looked like luck was on his side again and the men would leave of their own accord; that is, until the engine faltered and billowed white steam that obscured his view of the street momentarily.
Shouts cried out from the gathered men, anger the common denominator as the driver tried and failed to turn the engine over. Ajax had thought it was too good to be true that he was getting out of the situation so easily without having to face the overwhelming odds on offer. He had a job to do and he had, foolishly, volunteered. Ajax Frost did not let people down, and he had no intention of starting today.
The first round hit the vehicle straight in the front, the explosion far bigger than he expected as the purple and orange plume blew out and upwards. Ajax did not pause to consider what had been loaded into the truck. His second shot was in the middle of a group of six men who barely had time to think as the flames roared, let alone move. The assault rifle was deftly toggled to semi-automatic as he picked off five more men, the rest already diving for cover as he shifted the rifles barrel. Ajax counted at least ten remaining, despite his best efforts to eradicate the threat.
In the distance he could just make out the limp figure of Jerry being carried out of sight and hopefully to safety. Rex had summed up the situation perfectly, Ajax did not know the man and putting his life on the line for him was no doubt a stupid mistake, but he had his honour, of sorts. In a few short days he had come to respect the mercenaries, even enjoying their company; he had little to regret about putting himself in peril for one of them. A hail of bullets kicked up dirt and dust in front of Ajax and tore his mind away from thoughts of the other men. He could hear the bullets tearing through the air all around him and feel brick dust scattering on top of him.
Ajax returned fire carefully, weighing each shot to conserve ammunition. He managed to slot two more men - hiding behind the burning wreckage was plain idiotic. The return fire was getting closer, one round ricocheted from the debris and glanced across his right shoulder blade in a line of searing agony. He had no option but to retreat, he pushed himself backwards with his elbows and knees until he was clear of the street and out of their firing range. He stood up and checked the tablet’s map one last time before jogging back down the street the squad had come up. Now that the odds against him were finally closer to even he needed to finish this to ensure there was not a pursuit back to the guest house.
Ajax had almost reached the streets end and rounded a corner when three bullets barely missed him, two punching into the nearing building and one through a window. He ducked but not fast enough before a fourth clipped his left shoulder, stinging like a demon as it punched straight through. The threat and pain only spurred him on further, the wound not slowing him down as he switched magazines and picked up speed to try and distance himself from his attackers.
His tablet was awful for scale at times, a fact he was only now discovering. He had made the wrong choice of street to flee down; it stretched on for too long, his pursuers would have a shot within seconds.
Ajax changed his plans and burst through the front door of a tall building, entering a hallway that had stairs at the furthest end. He climbed without caution, Ajax moved too fast to listen out for his pursuers and only slowed down when he was one door away from what he presumed was the rooftop and breathing heavily. Some genius had chained the door locked, it required several bullets to punch through the thick padlock.
As the chains clattered to the floor Ajax pushed the door open, sweeping the rooftop quickly for threats. He was two storeys above the closest building, the drop looked a lot further than when he was street level. Heavy footfalls and angry shouts behind him signalled that time was quickly running out. He popped his head over the ledge to check the street behind the building, relieved that no one waited below.
Ajax paced back until he was at the furthest end from the ledge. He took in several deep breaths to try and calm his nerves as he strapped the rifle into place on his back. He tried to remember that this was his choice, and that he would need to live with the mistake. Muscles bunched as his legs kicked away from the roof and Ajax powered towards the roofs edge. At the point of no return he leapt, just as a bullet tore through his hip and sent Ajax into a spin. He fumbled the landing, aiming for a roll that went out of control and saw him belly flop off the rough concrete.
Common sense managed to force Ajax to pick himself up and scrabble behind the buildings low wall, with not a second to spare. Automatic fire opened up from the building above, raining down all around him. Ajax wheezed for breath, the sickening thud as he hit the concrete roof had squeezed all air from his lungs. With monumental effort he pushed himself along by his elbows, shuffling as bricks shattered and rounds missed him by inches.
He moved his head to better look at the damage. Blood pumped in time with his heart from the exit wound and Ajax could see the bone that had been torn apart by the bullet. He took a deep breath as panic set in, quelling his rising heart rate as the nano machines went to work. His head already ached from the blood loss as new skin slowly formed around the wound; soon it closed up and was replaced by fresh, pink skin, yet the pain suggested the bone was yet to knit back together.
Pinned down he only had one option, since flight would see him mowed down within three steps. He spat out the blood that coated his mouth, slowly pulled out his rifle without exposing his body and loaded in his last explosive round. He waited patiently for his one chance.
Another burst of fire had him pressed up to the wall, willing himself to meld with it. Finally the cacophony of sound ceased, the faint clicking as his attackers spent their bullets was his opening.
Ajax pulled himself up, feeling bones and muscles still protest after the fall and fired his round. It hit just below the adjacent rooftops wall and blew a large hole into the building that sent two bodies flying into the air. He did not stop to watch the resulting carnage and turned to sprint across his building, whilst hoping he could make it to the next roof.
The injured hip was mending fast, yet the pain threw off his gait and Ajax's jump was underpowered. His fingertips caught the next roofs lip as his body smashed into the side of the building, the rifles stock pressing into his ribs on impact and only adding to the pain. Ajax could feel tendons tearing, muscles straining, flesh shearing; he only let out a curse when his strength managed to overcome gravity and pull him clear of the treacherous drop.
Five figures were recovering two buildings back, all had been knocked down by the blast. Ajax moved out of sight of them and watched on as one prepared to make the leap down to the next building. Ajax rested his rifle on the wall and sighted, firing a round that downed a man to the jumpers left. The other three flattened themselves on the rooftop once
more whilst the fourth jumped; the sound of splintering bone and the cries that followed were clear in Ajax's ears.
With his rifle ammunition running treacherously low Ajax showed the wounded man some mercy and spared him from death, rather he allowed the foolish man to regret his actions for another day. Ajax located the buildings fire escape off to one side, the rusted metal steps groaned in protest under his weight as he started climbing down. He could see that it lead into an alley behind the street he had originally tried escaping down, the buildings either side blocking most light from illuminating the alleys dark corners. He jumped the last ladder, the drop barely above head height.
The cool rain and freezing wind was really getting to him, Ajax could feel his muscles sapped of strength as blood was restricted to keep his core warm. The tablet showed the alley forked at one end, so he made for the junction and hobbled along the dark passage, passing a multitude of bodies. Some wore the cheap tactical gear of a mercenary, others tattered and worn rags; seems the junkies could fight at least, they were just too stupid to loot a corpse, thought Ajax.
The stench was foul and choked him of clean air. The bodies had long since released their bowels and not even the freezing weather could keep the smell at bay. Ajax nearly slipped on something he had no desire to look back at, he kept his head high and fixed his eyes ahead. He almost reached the fork when he heard a heavy door slam against a wall; the three survivors were still in pursuit and had found their way into the alley.
A burst of gunfire echoed all around him as he was spotted, still short of the fork. Ajax ducked low as he ran, trying to make himself as small a target as possible. He was a step away from the corner as a bullet punctured his thigh, the leg gave way and he tumbled to the ground. The onslaught did not stop as he tried to crawl around the corner. Heavy booted footsteps closed in, more bullets landed all around him in a spray of shrapnel.
Dragging himself around the corner took all his strength. He assessed the situation and cursed aloud. His leg was broken and bleeding profusely, to top it all off he was low on ammo. Shit, why do something so stupid? A horizontal pipe above him was just within reach, Ajax grabbed it and managed to pull himself up onto his good leg. Even with all his weight on the other leg the pain was incredible, making it almost impossible to think.
The footsteps were so close, he would never make it to the next street. Ajax wiped his bloodied hands, picked up his rifle and tried to steady his breathing; he would not go down without a fight. He toggled the weapon to full automatic, back to the wall he leant around the corner and unleashed death.
His bullets cut the nearest man down, spraying blood everywhere. As rounds spewed out he took out the second man's skull, bone fragments joining the melee. Debris was kicked up as the returned bullets clipped the wall, grit lodged in his eye and fogged his vision. Then click, the noise that signalled his death.
Ajax dove backwards, the last man almost upon him as he tried to pull his handgun from its holster. A figure rounded the corner, gun lowering to match his descent as Ajax drew his weapon, watching with fear as his slick hands lost their grip and it flew forwards. In that split second Ajax knew there was no escaping his death, it was an inevitability and He was here to claim him. His whole body screamed at him to live. Boom!
There was something wrong, deeply wrong. He could still feel the pain coming from his leg and torso, something he did not expect after death. Ajax opened his eyes to see a figure above him, studying the wound to his leg. The woman had a thick barrelled weapon resting against her shoulder and he could see the damage it had done. A huge round had ploughed straight through his assailant and punched a large bloody hole in the nearest wall.
“Who are you?” were the only words that could come to his mind, nauseas and blood loss stealing away his ability to think.
“Your saviour.” came the woman's reply.
Ajax blacked out.
Chapter 9
The atmosphere was bleak within the command room of the Illicit Jane. Conversation had ceased once more between the four men, which left Duke at an impasse. On paper the young man sat across from him was the finest candidate to be interviewed so far, with plenty of experience and a glowing recommendation from a trusted acquaintance of Duke’s. All this made it so much more difficult to tell the boy he had less conversation in him than a deaf mute.
“Thomas, you’ve got to help me out here. It’s tough for me to interview people; I haven’t had to do it in years. You need to tell me why you want this job and are a better candidate than anyone else out there vying for the position.”
Thomas stared back, his expression static. When Duke considered the question was never going to be answered the young man finally replied. “All I know is to do with spacecraft engineering. Learnt all there was to know about the Ultima; now I want to learn all about the Illicit Jane.”
“That’s great to hear, Thomas. I’ll be back in touch with you after I’ve finished the interviews, which should be sometime tomorrow. Give my best to your captain when you see him.” said Duke.
As the duo rose from their respective seats Lev activated the airlock, which slowly hissed open. Duke followed Thomas and shook the man’s hand as he stepped out of the ship and began the long walk back down to the Aurora space docks.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as dense as he, fuck that was a difficult interview.” Duke heard the snigger that came from Greg, yet he chose to ignore it, for now. “How many are there left to interview today, Greg?”
“No one, technically.” replied the communications officer.
Duke studied the man’s sudden unease and tried to second guess the hidden meaning. “Enlighten us as to what you mean by that?” he asked.
“Well, there are no other applicants scheduled in for today, but there is someone I think has a real shot of impressing you. I kind of suggested to her that I could organise an interview for her on short notice.”
“Oh, you did now? I must have misplaced that memo about you being appointed captain. Why don’t I just step aside and you can finish off these bastard interviews. You know how much I hate doing this stuff, so why set it up so I have to sit through even more?”
Greg rummaged through one of his pockets until a folded sheet of paper finally materialised. He handed it wordlessly to Duke who opened it and began to study the elegant scrawl that darted across the page. By the time Duke was done reading there was no fight left in him, all he could think of was how unbelievable the words had been.
“If half of this recommendation is true then I at least owe the woman a chance to apply. I’ve never heard of a Deborah Volk before, where did you meet her?” asked Duke.
“I’ve known her since childhood, grew up a few houses down and used to knock around with Deborah and her two brothers. That was before the eldest died, the family packed up and moved soon after that. I kept in touch and heard all about her career on board a raft of ships. She did two years on the Ruby Hawk, kept that thing afloat when all her predecessors had abandoned it to be scuttled. I told her to come up on the hour, so you’ve five minutes to change your mind.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t be doing that. Fetch some fresh water; these interviews can kill a man of thirst.”
Greg disappeared swiftly from sight, clanging down the metal staircase as he headed for the small canteen that sat a floor below them. Whilst the two men left could hear him moving around they were perfectly safe from being overheard by Greg.
“Lev, has Greg mentioned this woman to you before? This letter really does make poor Thomas seem like an average deckhand in comparison. I struggle to believe that I have not heard of Deborah before.”
“Not often, but he has mentioned her. I think I met her once, although Greg never introduced me. Striking woman, very strong; you’ll really love her.”
Greg came bounding back up the stairs with a fresh jug of water and two of the cleanest glasses that were on board the ship. By the time he had set them down on the table a buzz of the inter
com signified the arrival of Deborah.
Lev unlocked the outer door from a nearby panel and they all heard the clunk of it opening to allow her inside. When Deborah stepped within the command room Duke gasped at the sight of her.
Greg had entirely glossed over the striking look of the tall redhead, her hair so bright it was nearly ablaze. She wore heeled black boots that nearly brought her in line with Duke, and she obviously looked after herself. Defined bare upper arms suggested that Deborah did not slouch from the more physical duties of a ships engineer, only supported by the multitude of small white scars that crisscrossed her fingers and knuckles. When she reached Duke he stood to meet her and extended a hand that was gripped firm in a handshake.
“Deborah Volk, pleased to meet you. Greg has spoken at length about your ship, captain, and the need for a new engineer. He really sold this job opportunity, not many class two’s still in service to really test ones practical skills.”
Duke did well to recover, his eyes not straying for long on any part of her lithe body as he moved his head in line with hers so that he could better address Deborah.
“I believe after last month Jane is the last surviving class two, after Radum was clipped by its own haul. There is enough machinery on board to keep someone occupied for an entire career, if the ship around them survives that long. Please, take a seat, and I shall outline the position to you.”
Duke stepped around the small table so as to pull back the chair opposite his own. Only once Deborah was seated did he return to face her. Duke turned over the first page of a small pile that detailed the duties he was looking for a new employee to perform and began the final interview.