Gunfight on the Alpha Centauri Express (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 5)

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Gunfight on the Alpha Centauri Express (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 5) Page 20

by John Bowers


  “Come and get me, Kenny-boy. I’ll face you one on one, man to man, if you think you can do that without wetting your pants. I’ll meet you anywhere you want—land, sea, or space, with or without weapons; I’ll even meet you naked if that’s what it takes. And you know what, Kenny-boy? When we do meet, I’m going to kill you. I’m going to cut out your fucking heart!”

  The reporters seemed transfixed. Two of them swallowed down adrenaline, another’s eyes glazed at the drama.

  “One more thing, Kenny. Don’t send any more children to take your place. I know you’d rather have thirteen year-old girls to do your killing for you, because you don’t have a dick or balls, but if I get gunned down by a sniper or taken out by a bomb, the entire galaxy will know the truth about you—that you’re spineless, that you’re afraid. The adolescent girls you send out to die have more balls than you do. You think you’re a big man? You think you’re somebody important? Then PROVE IT!! No more bombings, no more mass shootings—just you and me, asshole…and don’t forget to wear your diaper.”

  Nick laughed.

  “Personally, I feel completely safe, because I know you’ll never show up.”

  “Marshal Walker, can you tell us—”

  Nick held up both hands.

  “That’s it. That’s my statement. Get it on the air.”

  “Uh—I’m not sure we can air all of that,” said Connie Cowan. “My editor—”

  “You air it!” Nick told her. “All of it. Every one of you, do not edit out a single word. I’ll end this terrorism shit, but I can’t do it if you start censoring me. If your editors have a problem with that, send them to me.”

  They stared at him like chastened students facing a stern principal. He took a step back.

  “I expect to see that on the air this afternoon, word for word. Then you can get ready for a bigger story.”

  “Which—which story is that?” asked Lucy Yap.

  “The biggest story of the year. When I kill the bastard.”

  Chapter 20

  Thursday, May 25, 0445 (CC)

  53rd Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2

  “Jesus, Walker, you laid it on kinda thick, didn’t you? No dick or balls? Cut out his fucking heart?”

  Marshal Robert Bridge looked undecided whether to compliment Nick or castigate him.

  Nick shrugged and puffed out his breath.

  “I don’t like being forced to shoot girls,” he said. “Neither does Nathan. This motherfucker is starting to piss me off.”

  “Starting to piss you off? Three thousand dead didn’t do the job?”

  Nick nodded. “Yeah, it did, but when I had to shoot Nadine Wilson, it became personal.”

  “Never mind the death threat against yourself.”

  “That doesn’t worry me too much. I’ve faced that sort of thing before.”

  They were sitting in Bridge’s office overlooking downtown Lucaston. Nathan had returned to Trimmer Springs the night before. Bridge fiddled with his coffee cup.

  “You realize you put the whole case on the line, don’t you? You revealed information we were holding back.”

  “Yes, I did. You can fire me if you want—unless Judge Moore beats you to it—but before I bow out I want to get Kenneth Saracen. If it’s the last thing I ever do.”

  Bridge looked unhappy.

  “I’m not going to fire you, but there are some people who would like to chew on your ass for a while.”

  “Bring ‘em on.”

  “There’s no point. Consider yourself reprimanded, in case anybody asks.”

  “I’ll tape a bandage on my ass to show them.”

  Bridge laughed. “I can see why that Godney character wants your head. You really are a renegade.”

  “But I get the job done.”

  “Yes, and that’s the only thing that’s saving your ass.” Bridge sighed. “Well, ready to go meet some girls?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Lucaston Department of Corrections, Lucaston – Alpha Centauri 2

  The two girls Nathan had arrested in Trimmer Springs were seated in adjoining interrogation rooms. The rooms were sound-proofed so that what was said in one could not be heard in the other. Nick and Bridge watched them for a few minutes through the one-way glass in each room. Both girls looked subdued, uncertain of themselves. Both were painfully thin, neither was very attractive. They had been captured wearing outrageous costumes that made them look more like circus performers than teenaged girls, but were now dressed in orange jumpsuits. Their hair was long, wild, and unruly, as if they had never trimmed it. It also looked unwashed, but that might have been an illusion.

  Both girls sported shiners from where Nathan had slugged them.

  “This one calls herself Star,” Bridge told him. “The other one says her name is Heaven.”

  “Aliases?”

  “Most likely. We’re running their prints now. They aren’t registered on Alpha 2, so we’re checking the civilian database on Terra. It will take a couple of days to get the results.”

  “So we don’t know their real names?”

  “No, and they’re not talking. However, their DNA results indicate that they’re siblings, even though they don’t look much alike.”

  “Interesting. Ages?”

  “Heaven claims to be sixteen, but Star won’t even tell us.”

  “They’ve been kept separate?”

  “Ever since they got here. They haven’t even seen each other.” Bridge glanced at him. “Which one do you want first?”

  “Let me talk to Heaven. She looks older than the other one.”

  Bridge took a step back as Nick opened the door to the first interrogation room and stepped inside. The first thing that hit him was body odor—the girl clearly hadn’t bathed since she arrived in Lucaston, and from the smell, not for several weeks before that. He wrinkled his nose and placed his hat on the end of the table.

  The girl didn’t move. Her chin remained lowered, but her eyes followed him as he pulled out the chair and sat down. Nick leaned back and got comfortable, then crossed his arms.

  “You know, if you trimmed that mop and got a style, you wouldn’t be half bad looking.”

  Her face flushed red and she muttered something that he couldn’t hear.

  “What was that?”

  “I said, ‘fuck you’.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, nice to meet you, too. What’s your name?”

  “You already know my name.”

  “Yeah…Heaven, isn’t it? Bullshit. No parent would ever name their daughter anything so stupid.”

  Her chin rose and her eyes blazed.

  “Fuck you! And fuck your tin badge, and fuck your guns! Fuck you in the neck!”

  Nick glanced at his watch and yawned.

  “Okay, I see we’re going to be here a while. I hope you’re not hungry. You may not get anything to eat for several hours.”

  “You don’t scare me.”

  “No? That’s odd—the man who arrested you said you were crying like a little bitch.”

  “Fuck him too! He’s got a tiny little dick!”

  “Does he, now? How do you know that? Did you get a look at it?”

  “I didn’t have to. He’s a pussy. He killed Cassie.”

  “Cassie. Was that the fat girl’s name?”

  “Make fun of her all you want! She was my friend.”

  “So when he killed her, was that before or after you tried to drive a knife through his heart?”

  Heaven’s chin dropped again and she glared up at him, then fell silent, staring at the table top.

  “You know who the real pussy is? The Chairman. Kenneth Saracen.”

  In spite of her defiance, Heaven’s head jerked up at the mention of the name.

  Nick’s eyebrows lifted

  “Oh! You didn’t know we knew his name, did you? Well we do, and we know a lot more than that.”

  He waited for her response, but she didn’t speak. He gave her a
full minute. He checked his watch again, then inspected his nails.

  “Yeah…we really know a lot about old Kenny-boy. Very interesting stuff.”

  He pulled out his pocket ‘puter and checked his v-mail. The silence stretched another minute.

  “What?” She almost whispered it.

  “Hm? Did you say something?”

  She cleared her throat. “What do you know?”

  “Lots and lots of stuff. Would you like to hear it?”

  Her eyes met his briefly, then she shrugged.

  “It’s probably bullshit anyway.” She turned her head to the side and coughed.

  “Oh, I don’t know. You probably know more about that than I do.”

  “What do you think you know?”

  “Well, for instance, Kenny Saracen has tuberculosis.”

  She frowned. “What?”

  “You never heard of tuberculosis?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s a lung disease. Medical science pretty much stamped it out a couple centuries back, but it still turns up now and then. Rich people get it. Capitalists.”

  He uncrossed his arms and laced his fingers behind his head, gazing at her.

  “What it does, it rots your lungs. In its advanced stages you cough up blood, and soon after that you die. I’m told it’s very painful.”

  “He doesn’t have that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I would know if he did.”

  “You mean, you’ve never seen old Kenny-boy cough and spit red shit into his hands?”

  “No, never.”

  “It must not be very advanced yet. That’s even more dangerous.”

  “How is that more dangerous?”

  “For the people around him, I mean. TB—that’s short for tuberculosis—is extremely contagious. You can get it from just being in the same room with someone who has it, breathing the same air—and if you ever kiss that person, well forget it—you’re as good as dead.”

  She stared at him, alarm in her eyes in spite of her skepticism.

  “I’m sure you’re probably okay, as long as you never kissed him.”

  Heaven lowered her eyes again. Nick saw her swallow involuntarily.

  “You don’t feel the need to cough, do you?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Well, if you do, just point it the other way. I don’t want to catch it from you.”

  “I don’t have it, okay?”

  “Okay. Good. Whatever.”

  Heaven stared at the table a moment, then turned her head and coughed. Now he saw fear in her eyes.

  “Let’s talk about something more pleasant,” he suggested.

  “Like what?”

  “Tell me about Star.”

  “What about her?”

  “She’s your sister, isn’t she?”

  “No.”

  Nick laughed. “Okay, Heaven—if that’s your real name—you can bullshit me about a lot of things, but DNA doesn’t lie. The lab ran your blood, and you two have the same parents. That makes you sisters, whether you want to admit it or not.”

  She clamped her lips and fell silent again.

  “You said you’re sixteen, so I’m guessing Star is fifteen. Am I warm?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Makes no difference to me at all, but apparently Kenny-boy likes them young. He probably can’t get a woman his own age, so he turns to girls like you.”

  Her head sprang up.

  “It isn’t like that!”

  “Tell me how it is.”

  “He’s a great man, that’s all.”

  “A great man.”

  “Yes.”

  “A great man. Who sends kids out to do his killing.”

  “We do it because we want to!”

  “Really.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why do you want to?”

  “Somebody has to stop the capitalists! They’ve destroyed the galaxy.”

  “How have they destroyed the galaxy? Last time I looked, it was capitalists who built the galaxy.”

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “Maybe you’re right. I sure as hell don’t know what you’re talking about. How many people have you killed?”

  “I’m not going to answer that.”

  “Hm. Well, three girls who matched the descriptions of you, your sister, and your friend Cassie were seen on a train leaving Gordon’s Creek eleven days ago. Do you want to know what happened after they left?”

  “No.”

  “No? Maybe that’s because you already know.”

  Heaven shrugged.

  “A powerful bomb exploded in the courthouse at Gordon’s Creek and five people were killed.”

  “Why should I care?”

  “Because right now it looks like you and your crew set that bomb. Do you deny it?”

  “Means nothing to me one way or the other.”

  “What were you doing in Trimmer Springs night before last?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That’s a long way to go for nothing. Who paid your train fare?”

  “We did.”

  “Where did you get the money? Do you have jobs?”

  “Yes, we have jobs.”

  “Really? Where do you work? Pizza Palace?”

  “We work for the Chairman, okay?”

  “How much does he pay you?”

  “He doesn’t pay us. We do it because we want to.”

  “How do you eat? Where do you live?”

  “He takes care of us.”

  “Ah, he takes care of you. Did he provide you with the explosives that were found in your luggage?”

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “I think you do. Marshal Green saw you and your sister pull a very heavy piece of luggage off a baggage cart. That luggage was filled with PlastOMite.”

  “Whatever.”

  “What was your target? The police station? The church? Were you planning to blow up the entire town?”

  “I’m not answering any more questions.”

  Nick sighed and stood up. He stretched, then sat down again.

  “Getting hungry yet? I am. I think I’ll order a pizza. You want anything?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, maybe I’ll wait until you get hungry. Tell me this—do your mom and dad know where you are? Do they know what you’re doing?”

  She snorted in contempt.

  “Is that an answer? That didn’t sound like an answer. When was the last time you talked to them?”

  “I don’t remember. It’s not like they give a shit.”

  “Your parents don’t give a shit?”

  “No.”

  “They don’t give a shit for you? Or they don’t give a shit for your sister?”

  “Either one.”

  “Are you sure about that? I’m willing to bet they’re worried sick.”

  “You would lose that bet. They just don’t care.”

  “How do you know? Did they tell you that?”

  She shook her head. “They just care about making money.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “Yes. They’re capitalist pigs. Money is all they care about.”

  “Maybe they want to make money so you and your sister can have better lives.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Did they grow up rich?”

  “No.”

  “Are they rich now?”

  “I don’t know. They have a lot of money, so maybe that makes them rich.”

  “You know, a lot of people who grow up poor want to make sure their kids don’t grow up the same way. Some of them might overdo it a little, but it’s because they care about their kids.”

  “You don’t know my folks.”

  “No, I don’t. Maybe they really don’t care, but the odds are that they care a lot.”

  “Can we talk about something else
?”

  “Okay. Tell me about Cassie.”

  “Cassie is dead.”

  “I know. She tried to kill a U.F. Marshal, so he was forced to shoot her.”

  “He’s a pig.”

  “Yeah, I got that. He’s also a friend of mine, so if you’re upset about Cassie, you can imagine that I’m not happy either.”

  “What do you know about it? Your friend is still alive.”

  “Yeah, he is. But about a year ago I had a deputy about the same age, and someone shot him from ambush. He’s dead, and I’m still mad as hell about that.”

  She shrugged. “One less pig in the universe.”

  Nick leaned back in the chair, taking a deep breath. He resisted the temptation to clench his fists—he couldn’t let this child get under his skin.

  “You tried to stab my friend. Your sister tried to steal his gun. Cassie tried to shoot him. What the hell was all that about? He hadn’t done anything to you.”

  “He was hassling us.”

  “Do you kill everybody who hassles you?”

  “Only if they’re wearing a badge.”

  “How many people have you killed?”

  “None.”

  “You killed five people in Gordon’s Creek. How many others?”

  “None! I don’t know anything about Gordon’s Creek. I don’t even know where it is.”

  “Yes you do. You and your friends set that bomb, and you came to Trimmer Springs to set another one. You’re going to prison for life, Heaven, so think about that.”

  Her eyes lifted to meet his and he saw the fear again.

  “If that’s true, then why should I tell you anything?”

  “Because the more you tell me, the better it looks for you. If you cooperate, you might actually get out of prison someday. If you don’t, the chances are that you’ll die behind bars.”

  “I got nothing else to say to you.”

  “Do you love your sister?”

  “I told you, she’s not my sister.”

  “She is your sister, so let’s not pretend she isn’t. Do you love her? Do you love Star?”

  Heaven stared at the table, breathing heavily. Tears misted her eyes.

  “Do you take care of her? Is that your job, to protect your little sister?”

  She glanced up. “What the fuck do you care?”

  “Did your mom and dad tell you, when you were little, that it was your job to look after Star?”

  No answer.

  “Do you love your little sister?”

 

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