by Eric Thomson
“Yep. Just like that. When you know what the telltales are, it’s not wormhole science.”
Talyn and Cortez seemed deep in conversation when Decker, Yorik on his heels, returned to the terrace. His partner glanced up at him long enough to see a confirming nod. The Mayhem was here.
Before they managed three paces, Yorik stopped and tilted his head to one side. Decker gave him a questioning gaze only to see the man’s face harden as he stared back, eyes colored by deep suspicion.
“Sorry. I need to take this. Grab another coffee and enjoy the view.” Yorik vanished into the kitchen once more.
Instead of following the suggestion, Decker walked to the far end of the terrace and studied the beach house’s eastern facade, wondering what could call Yorik away from his duties as host to the DSA’s security representative.
Several minutes passed before he returned, grimmer than ever, and Decker, by now on high alert, noticed one of the guards, weapon drawn, and keeping to the shadows just inside the kitchen door.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Yorik addressed himself to Eva and Sherri though Decker knew his announcement encompassed him as well. “I’m afraid I bring worrisome news.”
“What?”
Cortez sat up and put her cup on the patio table. She sounded annoyed at the interruption.
“Since I was worried about his welfare after yesterday’s events, I sent my men to check up on Alek Mannsbach this morning. They entered his apartment a short time ago. He appears to have died in bed of natural causes. Or at least they couldn’t find any marks on him. Based on body temperature, he passed away sometime yesterday afternoon, and we know he was alive when Osric brought him news of Gustav’s death.”
— Eleven —
Yorik’s eyes went back and forth between Decker and Talyn, looking for a telltale reaction to his announcement.
“I beg your pardon?” Talyn asked in a tone half puzzled, half-indignant as she stared at Yorik with an air of incomprehension. “What are you talking about? Alek was fine when I spoke with him shortly after your man Floros announced Gustav’s death. And what do you mean entered his apartment?”
“Yes, please explain yourself, Piet,” Cortez said in a soft voice.
“The clothes Alek wore the last time he met with Gustav the day before yesterday are missing as is his ID and sidearm,” Yorik continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “Someone returned his rental car to the agency yesterday afternoon. The apartment looks as if it’s been freshly cleaned by experts. I could go on, but I’m sure everyone sees that something’s not right. Gustav dies yesterday before lunch. Alek dies a few hours later. Then Sherri and Corbin show up. Sherri claims to be Alek’s boss, taking over the negotiations and talking a good game. But she and Corbin seem rather more concerned about the MHX-19 Alek gave Gustav than the nature of the discussions to date.”
Decker, hands in his pockets, strolled over to where Yorik stood, facing Eva and Talyn, both still seated.
“What are you trying to imply?” The latter asked.
“That we killed Alek,” Decker said, stopping behind his partner’s chair. “And that we might be involved in Gustav’s assassination. It’s true you know. We terminated Alek. Or to be more precise, since it’s not considered polite in our circles to claim a kill if there’s no blood on your hands, Sherri did.”
While Yorik watched Decker like a predator eying his next meal, Eva stared at the Marine in shock.
“Why? Why would you kill your own man?”
“Alek was weak, and that weakness threatened the DSA’s plans to bring the Mission Colony Freedom Collective under its umbrella.”
“Pardon?” Eva’s eyes blazed with undisguised incredulity. “You’d kill someone for that? What sort of people are you?”
“The sort who clean up their messes before things get out of hand,” Talyn said. “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same about your organization.”
Decker made a face.
“Indeed. Gustav saw the DSA’s offer as a way to tighten his grip on the Collective and make a play for absolute power in this star system, ideology, citizens and followers be damned.”
“So?” Eva asked. “Isn’t that what the Alliance wants — friends running the entire Rim Sector?”
“We want allies, not quasi-independent satraps. Gustav, master persuader that he was, somehow either convinced Alek to play along or bought him off. He would pay lip service to the DSA’s principles and priorities, take the MHX and the money, then make himself sole master of the Mission system. As I said, Alek was weak. Either the promise of wealth and power overcame his loyalties or Gustav found a way to compromise him. Considering your late husband’s morally and legally objectionable proclivities, I lean more toward the latter explanation. Especially since Gustav was protected by other perverts and could easily throw Alek to the wolves if he stepped out of line. It’s a story as ancient as humanity itself.”
Yorik’s eyes lit up with sudden understanding. He pointed at Decker.
“You’re the sniper. I knew it. That Falkenberg Longbow isn’t a weapon for an amateur. But a man your size, strength and military experience? I’ll bet you’re able to shoot the balls off a fly at a thousand meters.”
The Marine pulled his hands out of his trouser pockets and clapped.
“Bravo. Well done. And yes, Gustav needed to go. He was a huge liability for the movement. We don’t mind people whose definition of fun is a little out of the ordinary, but not when it makes them vulnerable. If Gustav had been allowed to seize power, his appetites would have spun out of control, with disastrous results. Hiding the odd body after a night of pleasure gone overboard when you’re merely the charismatic leader of a radical group is one thing. Trying to do the same when you’re Mission Colony’s first minister? You can imagine the outcome.”
“He would have exercised self-control,” Eva growled, though her eyes told Decker she was in no way convinced by her own words. “Piet and I would have made sure.”
“No.” Talyn shook her head. “His sort is convinced they’re beyond retribution, especially after they keep getting away with their crimes thanks to official corruption or friends with similar appetites in high places. They’re incurable short of a mind wipe. A few months in power and his facade would slip, or the friends with similar appetites would find the temptation to blackmail him irresistible. The DSA can’t afford allies whose weaknesses threaten established plans.”
“So you simply went ahead and murdered him.”
“There was no alternative. The Freedom Collective is important for our expansion in these parts, but not under Gustav. Corbin did what the DSA deemed necessary, making you the Collective’s new leader, and Mission Colony’s next first minister. You’re a much better choice for this star system and us. Besides, if you examine things with clear eyes, you’d know Gustav’s downfall would have destroyed everyone in his circle.”
A thoughtful expression replaced the anger on her sculpted features, but Yorik wasn’t having any of it.
“This is bullshit, Eva. I don’t know what game they’re playing, but it won’t end well for anyone. Best we stop this right now. Corbin deserves a shot in the back of the head for murdering Gustav, and Sherri earned one for ordering his assassination. If they actually represent the Democratic Stars Alliance, which I doubt, we should let their superiors know the Mission Colony Freedom Collective isn’t joining their little scheme unless it’s as equals. In the meantime, we reset our timetable and adjust our plans to account for the MHX-19’s terror factor.”
Decker gave Yorik a questioning glance.
“I thought you weren’t ideological.”
“This isn’t a question of ideology but power. Ideology is for useful idiots who volunteer to storm the barricades.”
“Can’t argue with the sentiment. However, killing us won’t help you seize power. On the contrary. The DSA’s reach is long and its patience for dissenters limited. You didn’t believe we acted without authority, did you? Gustav’s status w
as questionable even before we left Cimmeria. His attempt to suborn Alek simply confirmed our superiors’ thoughts he might need replacing. Tell me with a straight face you’re sure Gustav Kerlin would have made a viable first minister.”
Yorik scowled in reply but remained silent.
“See,” Decker continued, “even you know terminating Gustav improved things, especially for Eva.”
“It did,” Cortez said. “But his plan, as you summarized it last night, is fundamentally sound — with me at the helm.” She stood and walked over to Yorik. “I’d rather not surrender my liberty of action to a newcomer like the Democratic Stars Alliance, or anyone else. Piet, be a dear and turn them into desaparecidos. Wipe any evidence they and Alek ever set foot on Mission.”
Yorik raised his hand to shoulder height and half a dozen men, armed with vicious looking but legal needlers, emerged from the beach house. They formed a semicircle around them, weapons pointed at Decker and Talyn.
“This place is surrounded by remote weapon stations, so please don’t try to run,” Yorik said. “You’ll only die tired.”
“I thought that was my line,” Decker replied, smirking. “You know, me being a sniper.” He laid a hand on Talyn’s shoulder. “I was right last night. I should have shot Eva along with her pervert of a husband. They’re quite the team.”
Talyn picked up her coffee cup and took an unhurried sip before saying, “You might seize power without our help, but I doubt you’ll keep it long enough to enrich yourselves, let alone your families. The DSA considers betrayal a capital crime and punishes the perpetrators accordingly. Are your relatives ready to die for your mistakes? How about your friends?”
Yorik dismissed her statement with a scornful snort.
“The DSA won’t find any evidence Alek Mannsbach or either of you ever set foot on this world. Alek’s presence is already being erased. My men will make his body and belongings vanish while friends inside the government will delete his name and particulars from the arrivals control records. By noon today, Mannsbach will be a non-person.”
Talyn placed her cup on the table, stood and walked to the parapet, tracked by three of the needlers. She gazed at the water for a few seconds, then turned and leaned against the warm stones.
“You won’t be able to make every trace of us vanish. We left enough evidence and daily reports behind to point the finger at Eva. Better to end this futile revolt against reality now, before you forfeit your lives.”
Her reminder he didn’t know where to find their base of operations brought Yorik up short, but only for a moment.
“As clichéd as it may sound, we have ways of making you talk, Sera Zadeck. We’ll find your rabbit hole and sanitize it, and my friends in the administration will erase your presence from the official records as well.”
“Oh? It’s Sera Zadeck now?” She asked in a mocking tone. “Whatever happened to Sherri? Aren’t we among equals here, friends?”
Yorik turned to his men instead of replying.
“Take them to the cells, one in each, and secure them for questioning.”
Decker’s contemptuous laugh echoed off the beach house’s walls.
“Please. Do you think the DSA would send out operatives who weren’t conditioned against interrogation? You’ll get nothing from us. We’ll die without saying a word and leave enough evidence behind to condemn everyone here. Remember what happened to Gustav? That’s your future unless we walk free.”
“I let you walk and then what?” Cortez asked.
“You let us walk out of here with the MHX, and we’ll declare the negotiations a failure,” Talyn replied. “The DSA will find another way to exert its influence on Mission Colony and leave you alone. No harm, no foul.”
“I don’t believe you, darling. You’re not the type to let bygones be bygones.”
“How do you figure?”
“You and I, we’re so close to being twins under the skin, it’s deliciously scary, and I carry grudges forever. No deal. Get going, Piet. If they die before giving us the location of their safe house, so be it. The lovely Sherri and her sniper have a date with that pod of pseudo-pliosaurs cruising over the offshore deeps.” Eva’s smile held all the chill of Mission Colony’s eternal icecaps. “Don’t worry, my dear. They’ll eat you in two bites, maybe three, so it’s over rather quickly.”
“If they don’t die under interrogation.”
“We will,” Decker said with an air of unconcern. “So you might as well shoot us now and save yourself the trouble of hauling our bodies up from the subbasement. Your guards don’t seem like they’re strong enough to deal with my carcass.”
“They can always chop it into quarters,” Eva replied. “And on that note, goodbye. I’m sorry it has to end this way, Sherri, but I’m sure you understand. We might have become good friends in another life. Sadly, this is the one we’re living.”
She turned on her heels, passed through the cordon of armed men, and entered the beach house.
“Alright. We can do this in two ways. You can let my guards shackle you and walk to the cells under your own power, or we’ll lay you out cold and drag you down the staircase. Alternative number two means you’ll wake up in severe pain and it’ll only go downhill from there.”
Decker pulled his hands out of his pockets, stuck out his arms out, and put his wrists together.
“Tie us up. We’ll walk, thank you very much.”
Talyn imitated him moments later.
“Tell me, Corbin,” Piet said as two of the guards came forward, each with shackles in his hands, “how does it feel watching someone’s head explode through a good old-fashioned optical sniper scope?”
The Marine grinned at him.
“There’s no feeling quite like it. Shame you won’t get a chance to try. Your destiny is to become pink mist, not be the sniper. Unless you’d like to correct my mistake and use the Falkenberg Longbow on Eva. I might even hire you afterward. We can never find enough good men willing to do whatever is necessary. Otherwise, I suggest you make sure your affairs are in order, Piet.”
“Big words from someone about to die.” He gestured at the nearest guard. “Take them to the cells and search them, Ben. And keep your hands off Zadeck. Gustav’s gone, which means no more playtime.”
— Twelve —
As Piet Yorik watched his men shove them into a single file, Decker and Talyn exchanged a brief glance. After years together, the Marine knew she would understand he’d improvised a plan the moment he saw things were about to go pear-shaped. Her eyes asked when. His counseled outward docility but warned her to be prepared.
As Decker hoped, their escort numbered only three men, more would be unwieldy due to the narrow spiral staircase — Ben at the front, one between Decker and Talyn, and the last one behind her. Both operatives could feel the barrel of a needler in the small of their backs. Ben led them through the kitchen and into the same bare corridor Yorik used earlier.
He stopped by the closed door, unlocked it and glanced over his shoulder to make sure his colleagues were ready. Then, he took the stairs at a slow pace, attention focused on his feet rather than the prisoners.
The moment Decker stepped off the upper landing, he no longer felt the needler’s barrel, proof the guard behind him was also splitting his attention between the prisoner and the stairs. They made their way down wordlessly, the Marine and his partner by all appearances cowed.
But when Ben was only two steps from the lower landing, Decker stumbled and slammed into him. Both fell, the guard grunting in pain and surprise.
Decker rolled to one side and reached for the holstered needler, knowing he had mere seconds before the next in line stitched him with tiny projectiles. His shackled hands seized the weapon’s butt, and he wrenched it free while continuing the roll until he lay on his back beside the downed guard.
He opened fire moments before the second guard’s reactions caught up and turned his face into a bleeding pincushion. He toppled over but not before sending a spray o
f shards to break against the wall. Decker barely managed to raise his arms and protect his face from the tiny, stinging debris.
When he looked up at the stairs again, he saw Talyn, the third guard’s gun in her hands, step aside, and send him to join his comrades on the landing. He too was unconscious and bleeding from a dozen pinpricks on his jaw and neck. The takedown was over in seconds. One guard was stunned, but conscious, the others were out for however long it took to shake off the knockout drugs.
Decker pushed himself into a crouch and stuck the needler’s barrel into the point man’s ear.
“Cooperate, and I won’t blow out your eardrum before performing an improvised lobotomy.”
Ben nodded once, still unable to process what just happened.
“Shackles release?”
“Right-hand thumbprint,” he mumbled in reply.
Talyn took the last few steps to the landing, crouched across from Decker and held out her shackled hands at the edge of the prone man’s reach.
“You will release her,” Decker said. “Try anything else, and I turn you into a drooling moron.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He stretched out his right hand and grasped the manacles. They opened with a soft click and fell away.
Talyn immediately stuck her gun’s barrel into the guard’s other ear.
“Now my partner.”
When his hands were free, Decker grabbed Ben by the shoulders and yanked him to his feet.
“Open the arms room door. No funny business otherwise, it’s lobotomy time. Cooperate, and we won’t kill you or your friends. We merely want to recover something that doesn’t belong to Eva or Piet and leave.”
“Take it easy, man. I’ll do whatever you want. Piet’s not paying me enough for this sort of shit.” He pointed at the gray panel by the doorjamb. “Can I?”
Moments later, the latching bars pulled back, and the door swung outward. Decker pushed Ben into the arms room.