“Turn off alarm.” Moments later, the alarms stopped, though the ringing didn’t leave my ears. “Why shouldn’t I put a hole in your stupid, little Goon head?”
“Because you’ll make a lot more money if you take me to your bosses instead.”
“Oh yeah, and why is that?”
“My name is Yan Sangine, aka Yan Slim Hands. Maybe you’ve heard of me? You Elexaes have been trying to pinch me for years, and I’m sure Lord Xarren would be very pleased with you if you brought me to him.”
The other mobster who was taller and with a smashed-looking face, leaned into his coworker. “I’ve heard of him, Selle. His wanted poster is everywhere.”
“Hmm.”
Man, sometimes I hated being a famous and wanted criminal, but recently, it had saved my life.
The mobster lowered his gun. “Alright then. Let’s bring him to the boss.”
“Maybe we’ll get a reward.”
“We better. The reward for this rat is high. We should split it.”
“Yeah, I can get my wife some jewelry since she knows I been messin’ with Ceirin.”
“You’re such an idiot.”
You’re both idiots, I thought. But idiots were easy to manipulate. Being nearly shot in the head wasn’t part of my plan, but I was captured and on my way to Xarren, so all was going the way it should.
The Elarri with the mistress pulled me to my feet and tied my arms behind my back. I was led out of the vault and down the hall and through a series of rooms until I was in a bland stockroom filled with supplies. I was only able to take it in for a moment before a thick, black sack was placed over my head and I was lifted off my feet by one of the thugs.
From there, it was tricky to tell what was happening.
I was brought outside then put in a speeder. We zoomed through the evening, the sense of motion obvious even with me being on the floor. Sounds whipped by outside, muted, in one ear for a second and gone in the next.
Minutes later, the speeder came to a halt. The doors opened, and I was picked up again. I didn’t like being manhandled like this, but I didn’t have much choice in the matter. Besides, all according to plan, right?
As I was carried, doors opened and closed, some were grav-doors while others were on old-fashioned hinges. Muffled voices whispered around me, but I couldn’t make anything out. Whatever material this sack was made of really did a good job of obscuring all my senses from reality. Not ideal.
Eventually, I was carried down a long flight of stairs. Honestly, I was surprised that I was carried at all. It would have made more sense to make me walk. Why would they exert the effort? But I wasn’t about to complain.
When my captor got to the bottom of the stairs, he walked a few more feet, his boots echoing off cold metal, each step a pang. He stopped, typed in something, and a door slid open. He brought me into whatever room awaited, slung me from his shoulder, and put me in a metal chair. My restraints were redone to have me secured to my new seat.
Then the sack was removed from my head and my gaze was met by four very angry Elarri.
“Um, hello,” I said, trying to sound chipper. “So, I don’t know about you, but I’d love to speak to your boss, and maybe I can put in a good word for you—”
The first fist flew and connected with my jaw. I saw stars.
From there, it was a barrage of a punches and kicks and blows all over, until I couldn’t speak, couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe. I’d anticipated that I’d get the crap beaten out of me, but I’d thought maybe I’d see Xarren first, or… Or…
I don’t know. But not this.
It didn’t take long before their beating knocked me out completely. And thus, the plan hit the first hurdle.
When I came to, everything hurt. Every fiber of me yelled out in agony, every inch of my skin a quilt of bruises and pain. This was only the first night. Saints only knew what Xarren had in store for me next.
With a groan, I pushed myself up off the floor, though each tiny movement was a colossal effort. I wanted to cry, wanted to curse my saints, but I knew this would happen. It wasn’t really their fault when I volunteered to get the hell beaten out of me. Though, I had hoped they wouldn’t be too bad the first night. I hoped they’d take it easy on me so there would be more and better beatings in the future, but I supposed they wanted to get their licks in early. Fair enough.
Not ideal for me, but I didn’t think anything was broken except for maybe my nose, which was no big deal as I’d broken it many times in the past. I lifted a shaky hand and felt it. Immediate immense pain. I winced. Yep, broken.
Quick fix though. I put my thumbs on either nostril, took a deep breath, and snapped it back into place. I bit on my tongue to keep my yells bottled inside.
For all that is holy, that really hurt.
I took in more labored breaths until I was calm. My body still hurt, but I was able to ignore most of it. Amara would have a field day attending to my wounds, but that would come later.
First, to get my bearings. I was in a small metal cell, the room I’d been in when I had that sack taken from my head. Only now could I look to see that there was only one door and no windows, and no wonder, since I was probably deep underground. I had no way of knowing if there was a guard outside or not. That could be an issue. I didn’t spy any cameras, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t being watched.
Oh well. For now, I had some impromptu surgery to attend to, and I was not looking forward to it one bit. If there were cameras and a guard at the door, they’d be able to stop me in a minute. It was one of the few things we couldn’t really plan for. We either had the luck or we didn’t.
Fingers crossed. Here went nothing.
I leaned forward on my hands and knees and stuck my fingers down my throat. Making myself throw up was not fun, but it had to be done. A moment later, I was gagging and gagging until the vomit surged up my throat. It burned as it came up. Not pleasant. As I took some deep breaths and surveyed the mess I’d made, I was dismayed to find that the laser scalpel I needed was not in my filth.
Great. I cursed.
So I tried again and hoped that this wouldn’t be a classic case of “third time’s the charm.” For once, luck was on my side, because the second time, I felt the wicked pain as the small folded scalpel came back up with what remained of the meal I’d shared with my friends. It was a shame, but I’d always have the memories.
It brought tears to my eyes forcing that little thing back up, but it was done. Once I settled myself and spit most of the bile from my mouth, it was time to operate, and I was the unfortunate and unlucky patient.
With a grimace, I scooched back until I could lean my back against the wall. Even through my shirt, the metal was cold to the touch, but I appreciated the stability. In shaky fingers, I took the surgical laser and turned it on. With a click, a little blue light shot out about the length of my finger. It was like a blow torch, but refined and delicate, and not nearly as painful if pressed to someone’s skin.
I hoped.
Well, judging by the fact that no one had come in to stop me, I thought it safe to assume that there were no cameras. Lucky me.
That meant no one had to see this next part. I took in several long breaths as I pulled up my shirt and pinned it with my chin against my chest, grabbing a good bit of it in my mouth. I took a deep breath as I studied the small lump on my hip where the perduleq sat, waiting to be retrieved. I held the laser over the flesh, ready to plunge it in.
This was really going to hurt.
Okay, just do it, Yan, I thought. Don’t stall. One, two, three!
I inserted the laser into my skin on the far side of the lump. I bit down hard on my bundled-up shirt and yelled, but my cries stayed muffled.
With as much care as I could physically muster, I made a small, precise incision along the lump. It was one of the worst pains I’d ever experienced. No wonder patients were knocked out for surgeries, because this was awful. Thankfully, the cutting—though painful—was fast a
nd not terribly deep. Once it was done, I switched it off.
Now for the real pain.
I cracked my knuckles, took another deep breath, and inserted my fingers into the hole I’d made. A whole other level of pain. I nearly tore my shirt in two I was biting down so hard, but a second later, I felt the pulse-hack. With a weak smile, I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled it free.
And just like that, my surgery was done.
I stayed against the wall for several long minutes, just collecting my breath and my thoughts. I stripped off my shirt and tied it tightly around my waist to staunch the bleeding from my wound. As predicted, the Elexaes took my pack, so no bandages, though I’d expected that. For now, my shirt would do. If I got out of this alive, Amara would take care of me. Or maybe I’d be so rich I could just pay off my bounties and stroll into a hospital. A man can dream.
Once I was back to relative normal, aside from the cocoon of pain I was encased in, I held the pulse-hack in front of my face. It was so small, such an innocuous little thing, and yet so powerful, so chaotic and dangerous and just perfect.
“Hello, beautiful,” I said with a smile.
I pressed the small green button at the center, and all hell soon broke loose.
16
The perduleq blinked once, twice, and then made a sharp zip sound that shocked me. I dropped it and waved my hand in pain. At the same time, the dim fluorescent light above me—which had been giving me a headache—blinked out and plunged me into darkness. The circulated air switched off, and the magnetic door shut off with a click.
Perfect.
It worked. I smiled. Time to get to work. With a groan, I pushed myself to a stand and made my way to the door. It was dark, but I’d long ago grown used to seeing in dark spaces. I wouldn’t be a good thief if I had to use light all the time, although it certainly helped. It took a few seconds before my eyes adjusted fully but once they did, I crossed the room to the door and pulled it open.
I exited to a long hallway lined with other cells with the same doors and no windows. I didn’t see any guards. One by one, the doors started to open and fellow prisoners stumbled out—a couple of Elarri, another Goon like me, a tall Torgoran, a large Chytorri, and several other large and terrifying individuals. They would certainly help. It was hard to make out details, but we were all on the same side.
Footsteps pounded down the steps at the end of the hall. Just then, several guards streamed in with guns raised, small lunar headlights on the ends of them. That wasn’t good.
But as soon as they came into the room, a massive Norgoth barreled into them. The tall, white-haired beast was all hair and muscle and spikes down its back and arms. Despite their fearsome appearance, Norgoths were actually a very artistic people, but they could absolutely be a terror in a fight. As this one was. They tore into the guards until they were piles of gore. Thankfully, it was dark enough to not see the details because I would have thrown up yet again.
The Norgoth grabbed their rifles and tossed them to the nearest prisoners. Not me, but I was holding back. The prisoners who caught the blasters whooped and charged up the stairs, along with the Norgoth and some of the others. Well, I hadn’t planned on starting a prison revolt, but it would probably help. That would teach Xarren to keep dangerous criminals in his basement.
Once they were gone, I started up the steps too. I had a different objective.
At the top the stairs was an open doorway that led to the rest of the manor. Shouts and gunshots rang through the manor, and I spied servants scampering through the dark. I had a sudden realization that Rowan and Jinx could be caught in the crossfire of my prison break, Rowan especially since he was pretending to be a guard. Jinx wasn’t good during shootouts, so I just had to pray that they would both make it through without any issues.
Or without getting shot.
On that somber note, I crept along the adjoining hallway and made my way toward the center of the manor. The entire center of the estate was a large cube, one level being a dining hall with sort of a throne room for Xarren’s big ego and for family meetings. The two floors above it were sleeping quarters. And below the dining hall was a long stairway that led to the vault. That was where I needed to be.
The layout of the whole manor was clear in my mind. I knew every turn and every nook and secret tunnel. Unfortunately, there were no secret tunnels that led to the vault room. Well, there were the escape tunnels that connected to both the vault and the dungeon, but I wouldn’t be able to get into the vault from the other side, so the point was moot. It would be my escape route, though.
As I went along, the chaos slowly died down into silence and soon, I was alone in the dark. I ran into no one. No guards or mafiosos or servants. One might think that that was a good thing, but it was unnerving. It was too quiet. It should have been chaos—especially with the escaped prisoners.
I had to hope that it was a good thing for my friends, but I had a sinking feeling that something was wrong. Saints, I prayed not. I didn’t know what I would do if I lost them. But enough of those thoughts. I had to keep my mind straight for this.
After several long and mostly silent minutes of maneuvering through the maze of halls and rooms, I rounded a corner and came to the doors that led to the vault approach. And I finally found some life.
A lone Elarri guard stood in front of the door, a blaster pistol in one hand and the other resting on the hilt of a grav-blade at his hip. He was speaking into a communicator, but it was in Old Elarri so I couldn’t understand him. It was still pitch-black and he had no light, though that was only a good thing for me. As quietly as I could, I found a couple of vases and removed the exotic blooms from within. I hoped this guard was thin-skulled, because otherwise, I’d be in trouble. As quietly as I could, I tiptoed toward him. His conversation thankfully hid any sound I made, so before long, I was right behind him, and he had no clue.
So, I did what I had to. I smashed him on either side of the head with vases.
With a resounding crack, they shattered against his skull. He collapsed into a heap. No movement. He was out. The communicator started yelling, with questioning tones. That would arouse suspicion no doubt, but it was too late to worry about that.
I hauled him out of the way of the door and pulled it open. It gave way with a groan. Below was a stairway that led into darkness, but at the bottom were some lights. The vault. I smiled and raced down the stairs, fast but careful.
The stairs gave way to solid ground. A narrow passage. Smooth, metal walls on either side of me. A high ceiling with large bulb lights, though of course they were out. I approached the massive, massive door ahead of me at the end of the passage. Lights littered it, giving it in an eerie glow.
I inched forward and swallowed hard.
This was it. I was at the vault. Just as Jinx said, there was a thumbprint reader on the side of the massive door. And I was already wearing Xarren’s thumbprint.
Pivek had taken the prints that Jinx had gotten for him and made several duplicate gloves that perfectly matched Xarren’s fingerprints. It was ultra-thin and translucent and fit over my left hand perfectly and undetected. Fortunate that it was a lefty. If it had been Xarren’s right hand, it would have made it a lot harder for me to do my impromptu surgery. So, a bit of much-needed luck.
As we guessed, the vault ran on backup power, but the security measures should have already been wiped out by Rowan and Jinx. I was a little concerned that she wasn’t here yet, but in all this chaos and darkness, I wasn’t surprised. She would get here, and I would have the vault already open. I just had to hope that no one tried to stop her.
I cracked my knuckles. “Showtime,” I said with a smile.
With that, I pressed my thumb against the scanner and held it there. There was a low hum and suddenly, a small green line of light ran the length of my thumb. Then it dinged.
Access Granted, it said in a low, female-sounding voice.
Excellent. I kept on smiling.
Slowly, the l
ocking mechanisms of the vault unbolted and unlocked, loudly, reverberating too much for my liking. But with all the chaos of prisoners escaping and the power outage, I hoped no one would hear that.
Finally, the last gear or electronic bit ceased, and the vault door slid open, disappearing into the large door threshold. I started walking forward before it was all the way in. A dim light awaited, probably from the backup power. I stepped inside the vault, arms twitchy, ready to see the hordes of treasure that would save my family and change the lives of everyone I held dear.
Instead, I found that I was not alone.
I was instead met by a dozen Elarri men, all clad in black armor and brandishing blaster rifles, all pointed at me. And standing in the middle of them was the man whose very face was the stuff of my hate-fueled nightmares.
Xarren Elexae.
He was tall, leanly built, and covered with those white tattoos and scars that the Elarri liked so much. His eyes were so dark and his pupils so large that there was hardly any white to them at all. His gaze was unnerving, and his thin lips curved into a wicked grin that sent a shiver down my spine.
“Yan Slim Hands,” he said with a deep voice that I knew all too well. “How nice of you to join us.”
No. No, no, no, no, no.
He knew the plan. He knew I’d be here. But how? Everything was going to hell. And I had to get out. Regardless of the fact that I had lots of blasters pointed at me, I turned away from him and tried to bolt, but before I had my back to him completely, something hard smashed into my head.
And once again, I was knocked out. That really wasn’t good for me.
Water was splashed into my face. At least, I thought it was water. I sputtered awake, gasping and coughing as the liquid went down my throat. My eyes flew open. Instant regret. So much pain, all over, all the injuries from earlier roaring back. The wound at my hip throbbed like it was on fire. My face hurt, and my head hammered loudly. I pinched my eyes closed to quell the nausea starting to build.
The Elarri Heist (Plundering the Stars Book 1) Page 18