by L. V. Lloyd
Dane lowered his eyes to focus on Mike’s mouth. “Did you really knock him to the ground for it?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.
Without waiting for an answer, he brushed his lips ever so gently across the other man’s. Mike felt the tingle all through his body. He had to go, he knew he shouldn’t do this.
Dane eased back a fraction. “So, are you going to knock me down?” His voice was low and provocative.
“I... uh, I ...” the Lieutenant struggled to speak coherently. He wanted desperately to feel Dane’s beautiful lips on his. He wanted to fill his hands with that silky hair, crush that mouth and suck Dane’s tongue down his throat. He couldn’t move.
Dane traced Mike’s clenched lips with the tip of his forefinger, then stepped back. “I guess not. Sleep tight, then,” he smiled. For a second he thought Mike was going to lose control and jump on him. He held his breath in anticipation, but the other man simply stood there, and took a deep breath.
Mike shook his head. “Gods, you’re good,” he said in reluctant admiration.
Dane laughed, “You have no idea!” he said a little defensively. He started to walk away. “If you ever change your mind about having an affair on Asra, come and see me, I might be interested. Just don’t leave it too long,” he added over his shoulder.
Ser Keating was waiting in his office, seated behind his desk when Callan went in. He’d paid a quick visit to a refresher unit on the way, to wash his face and toss down a soberpill. The pill didn’t remove all the alcohol from one’s system, of course, but it absorbed what was still in the stomach. Combined with a brisk walk to Tinto’s premises a block away, the pill had Callan feeling relatively alert by the time he got there.
“What’s the problem?”
“I received this message about twenty minutes ago,” Keating looked worried. “I thought everything was going smoothly, we all seemed to be on the same screen. All that was left to do was to sign the actual contract at our meeting next week, and now this. It doesn’t make sense. What’s the rush? Has something gone wrong?”
He showed Callan the message he was referring to, he had brought it up on his console unit to make it easier for them both to read.
‘Require urgent meeting with you in person to sign contract immediately. Kapunda, Victory Hotel, room 201 tomorrow 14:00 hrs. J Chang.’
“What’s happened? Why the sudden haste?”
“Have you asked him for clarification?” Callan asked, frowning.
“Yes, but I haven’t received an answer. I’m not sure the contact code I have for him is still valid. You know how we usually communicate via disposable wristcoms? Up ‘til now we’ve only kept them active for forty-eight hours. This one is well past that.”
“Are you certain the message is genuine?”
Keating’s brow was furrowed as he considered. “No, I suppose I’m not, not completely. This is the first time he’s ever contacted me on my personal wristcom. On the other hand, he’s signed it the way we agreed, with the ‘J’ not just ‘Chang.’ ”
Callan paused for a moment, then spoke his thoughts aloud. “I don’t like it. By the same token, the Victory is a well-known hotel, near the spaceport on Kapunda, it’s not like he’s asking you to meet him in some alley or unknown dive. If this is genuine, we don’t want to lose our chance at getting the contract finalised. I can’t say I’m happy, but I think on balance you should go, find out what’s happening. I’ll come too, of course, along with Talyor and Vinh. That’s one thing that indicates the message is genuine, he hasn’t asked you to come alone.”
“No,” agreed Keating with a slightly nervous laugh. “I certainly wouldn’t be considering going at all if he had said that!”
Callan stared at him with an arrested expression on his face. Maybe he should take this more seriously. He’d ask Muller to come along as well as Talyor and Vinh; two men to check out the hotel and two to stay with Ser Keating. Better too much security than not enough.
He sat down in the chair opposite while he sent out instructions to his three security guards, authorising them to draw an extra stunner each and gas canisters from the AISS supply stock for the mission. He sent a further communication to Dane, advising him to be ready to transport them all down to Kapunda in the shuttle at 10:00 tomorrow. A small, selfish, part of him hoped the message might disrupt any personal plans Dane had for the rest of the evening.
This deal was important for Asra and Callan was prepared to make a considerable effort to ensure it came off successfully. Tinto was one of the biggest contributors to the local economy. It not only employed a good third of the population but the company was prepared to invest significantly in schools and infrastructure, helping to build Asra into a real town. If Tinto could obtain reliable and secure processing for its raw materials, the benefits would flow on to Asra.
Callan had been reluctant at first to have any dealings with a man he suspected to be no better than a street thug, but Ser Keating had been adamant, convinced Chang was trustworthy. He had been negotiating with him for several weeks before involving Callan, and he had only brought him into the scheme when he needed his security services.
Callan had to admit, so far Chang appeared to be a reliable and reasonable man. He had made no threats or outrageous demands, he’d simply treated the whole affair as an ordinary business deal. The attack on the Argos had shaken his belief somewhat, but that hadn’t been Chang’s doing, it had been the work of a rival, presumably hoping to scuttle the deal. There had been no further trouble since and the Governor had allowed himself to feel cautiously optimistic, that is, until the arrival of tonight’s message.
Chapter Fifteen
Dane was already on board the Rover, going through the pilot’s flight check list, when Callan and Ser Keating arrived the next morning. Callan studied him for a moment but the concentration on his face, required for working through the checklist, prevented him from being able to read any other expression. Dane’s bottom lip was held firmly between his white teeth. Callan couldn’t tell if Dane had succeeded with Mike or not. No, he was pretty sure nothing had happened, the Lieutenant was hardly going to throw his principles out into space after a couple of friendly drinks. He brought himself up short. He didn’t have time to worry about that now, he was sure he’d find out soon enough.
Callan’s three security staff arrived at that point, dressed in plain clothes as he had requested. He checked that they were all armed appropriately before filling them in on the mission details.
“The Victory uses an LS 223 security system,” advised Callan. “Every guest is scanned when they walk through the front door. That should detect any laser guns, electronic or metal weapons, but it won’t detect anything made of plasfoam or wood. I’ve arranged with the hotel for you to be given access to the two rooms either side of 201.”
Callan nodded at Talyor and Vinh. “I want you to check those rooms, as well as following our usual security procedures. Muller and I will stay with Ser Keating. Any questions?”
No-one had any. Once Ser Keating strapped himself in, Callan gave the signal to Dane to depart.
The voyage to Kapunda was pleasingly uneventful and Dane set the Rover down smoothly in the landing bay. He would remain on duty inside the locked ship until Callan and the rest of the group returned that afternoon.
Talyor and Vinh disembarked first, scanning the area to make sure it was safe before allowing Ser Keating to leave the safety of the ship. Callan took up position alongside the mine manager and Muller stayed back a few metres, guarding their rear. Not that Callan was seriously expecting an attack on the way to the hotel but he wanted everyone to start as they meant to continue. He still felt uneasy about the whole setup. He wasn’t going to relax until they were all safely back on Asra.
They reached the Victory about an hour before the scheduled meeting. It was one of the more exclusive hotels, only four stories high, built out of the ubiquitous plasfoam, but the architect had given it a touch of elegance by choosing local s
tone to cover the exterior. Polished pale gold with occasional white streaks, the hotel looked both stylish and graceful.
A high arched entrance opened into the ground floor, a wide open space with a circular reception desk in the middle and transparent elevator tubes on the left side, used to transport guests and luggage to the rooms above.
A bar occupied the length of the right hand wall and small tables and chairs were scattered around for patrons to relax with a cup of coffee, or perhaps a drink, while they browsed the latest news.
Callan ushered a rather tense Ser Keating over to the bar and ordered a cup of coffee for both of them. He chose a table with his back to the wall and made light conversation while he scanned the room and every person who entered. Muller strolled casually around the reception area until he was satisfied, then bought his own cup of coffee and sat down a few tables away from the other men.
Talyor and Vinh checked in briefly at Reception and then disappeared upstairs.
About ten minutes later, a small group of men walked in through the archway. Two of them moved like sabrecats, feline predators that Callan had only seen in holovids. They flanked a smaller man wearing a black cap and all three went directly to one of the elevators.
“Chang?” mouthed Callan, even as he sent a rapid message through to Talyor and Vinh.
“Looks like him,” agreed Keating.
They remained seated, watching as a family of four entered and clustered noisily around Reception. A man dressed in a dark red singlesuit and matching cap followed a few seconds later, carrying a large bunch of yellow flowers and stood waiting patiently. The Receptionist broke off his conversation with the parents for a moment to check the messenger’s wristcom and direct him to the elevator, then turned his attention back to the family.
Upstairs, Talyor and Vinh waited outside Room 201 for Chang and his men to arrive, there was no point in trying to hide their presence. They stood still, arms at their sides, as three men stepped out of the elevator and came warily toward them. “Chang?” asked Talyor. “We’re with Ser Keating.”
One of the approaching men nodded. “Mind if we search the room?” he asked politely.
“Be my guest,” invited Talyor. “We’ve been through it once, but naturally you’ll need to check for yourself.” He would have, if the positions had been reversed. The two AISS men moved carefully away from the doorway, allowing the other man to do his job. The man who had spoken went into room 201, while Chang and his other guard remained in the corridor. Both pairs watched each other in silence, their eyes flicking up and down the length of the corridor every few seconds.
The first guard had just completed his search of the room when the elevator doors opened again to discharge a man in red bearing a large bunch of flowers. Talyor and Vinh both tensed as he came toward them, their hands hovering over their stunners. To their surprise, Chang’s guard quickly put out an appeasing hand.
“Sir,” he addressed the messenger. “These men are with Ser Keating. The room is clear.” Evidently Chang had brought along a business associate as well as his guards.
The messenger nodded without speaking and followed Chang and the first guard into the room, while the second, bald-headed guard took up position outside the door with his back against the wall.
Talyor sent a message down to Callan, there was no point waiting to start the meeting at 14:00, everyone concerned was already here. Five minutes later, the door to room 201 shut behind Keating and Callan. Vinh had accompanied them, leaving Talyor to keep watch outside in the passage, next to Chang’s guard. Muller stayed below, monitoring the entrance to the hotel.
Callan paused just inside the door, automatically scanning his surroundings as Ser Keating stepped forward to shake Chang’s hand. The room was spacious, set up for meetings. A large circular table filled the centre, complete with six console units and leather chairs. An extravagantly stocked refreshment unit stood against one wall and a door at the back of the room gaped open to reveal an adjoining shower cubicle and toilet. There was no bedroom, this was a business suite only.
“So what’s happened then to cause the big hurry?” Ser Keating was asking Chang, pleasantly enough as he prepared to sit down. Callan saw the flash of confusion on the other man’s face at the same time he heard a faint scratching coming from the ceiling. In that instant, all of his suspicions about the strange meeting crystallised into certainty.
“Everyone outside, now!” he yelled.
Chapter Sixteen
Callan grabbed Ser Keating by the shoulder in one large hand and flung open the door with the other.
“This is a setup!” he continued, speaking in a low urgent voice, trying to convince Chang and his men that he had not suddenly run mad. He hauled Keating bodily out of the room, and pushed him toward the elevators. “Get as far from here as you can!” he ordered. “Run!”
The messenger in red pushed past him, evidently prepared to act now and wait for explanations later. He was followed closely by Vinh with Chang hard on his heels.
“There’s someone in the room above. I’m betting either gas or a bomb.” Callan continued to explain urgently, holding the door open for the last man. As soon as he was out, Callan slammed the door shut and raced down the passage after the others.
Whump!
The whole corridor shook and the door from room 201 was flung outwards, smashing into the opposite wall. Callan felt the shock wave from the blast like a punch in the back. He could have sworn it lifted him up and carried him forward. He staggered but didn’t fall, realising he could thank his lucky stars that the bomb had to have been a small one. Mind you, it would have been quite big enough to kill all six of them, if they’d still been inside room 201. The blast wave pressure alone in a confined space would have been enough to cause everyone massive internal damage.
“Vinh, stay with Ser Keating. Talyor, you’re with me,” Callan ordered as everyone turned for a second to look at the damage behind them. Ser Keating looked pale and shaken, his mouth open, unable to tear his eyes away from the dust billowing out of room 201. The guards, both his and Chang’s were on high alert, their eyes scanning the area for further threats, closing in around their respective charges.
A door opened along the passage to reveal Muller, not even breathing hard despite running up two flights of stairs in a few seconds. “He’s with me,” Callan said quickly, seeing the bald headed guard aim his stunner at Muller’s chest.
“Anyone come down after the explosion?” he asked Muller.
The stocky guard shook his head uncomfortably, realising too late that he might have missed an opportunity to catch the person responsible. “Sorry, boss, I didn’t hang around to check. I came straight up here.”
“Well, let’s go up and see what we can discover in any case,” Callan ordered evenly, certain that the perpetrator would be long gone, but still, there might be something to tell them who was behind the attack. “Vinh? You and Muller escort Ser Keating to the ship, would you? Talyor, let’s go.”
Callan used the emergency stairwell that Muller had just exited, taking the stairs up three at a time. He realised that Chang and the bald-headed guard were both following, but kept quiet, there would be time enough to talk when they reached room 301.
There was no-one in the passage when Callan stepped cautiously out of the stairwell. Soft-footed, he walked toward the door of room 301. It was shut, rather to his surprise. He’d expected it to be open, left swinging by the hasty departure of the man responsible for triggering the bomb. He paused, assessing the situation.
With some impatience, Chang brushed past him and put his hand on the door. He pushed the door open before Callan could say anything.
Whump!
The explosion threw Chang back against the wall with shocking, brutal force.
Callan could see the blood pouring from his ears and mouth, at the same time as he felt the blast lift him right off his feet and fling him to the ground a second later.
He opened his eyes. He l
ay on his back on the floor, feeling dizzy and trying to get his breath. His head was ringing and there was a sharp pain in his ears, it felt like he had burst both ear drums, but he was alive. He didn’t think Chang was. He knew he should get up and check but he couldn’t seem to get his legs working. He saw Talyor’s worried face looking down at him. His mouth was moving but he couldn’t hear what he was saying.
The bald-headed man was bending over Chang, his face grim. He stood up and drew his weapon and... pointed it directly at Talyor. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m going to find out.” His voice was flat and hard. He gestured to Callan, with a slight flick of his head. “Pick him up. The boss will want to speak to him.”
“It wasn’t anything to do with us,” Talyor protested, indignant. “We were victims here as much as you!”
“Maybe.” The other man gestured again, impatiently. “Come on, let’s go before the ’lice get here.”
Stiff with outrage, Talyor bent down and helped Callan to stand.
“What’s going on?” Callan asked in a too loud voice. Talyor answered, but he could tell his boss still couldn’t hear him. “We’re getting out of here,” he repeated slowly, so Callan could read his lips. “Chang is dead.”
Callan was unsteady but managed to keep on his feet once Talyor got him there. No broken bones, thank the gods. Talyor draped one arm over his shoulders and moved toward the elevator, Chang’s guard close behind them. All three squeezed into the elevator. Talyor tried to protest again but was told sharply to shut his mouth. As soon as the elevator opened at the ground floor, the guard put Callan’s other arm over his own shoulder, then without warning, shot Talyor in the back.
The guard tightened his grip on Callan as Talyor fell, and called out, “Can we have some help here? I have to get my friend to a medic. This man was helping me but he’s just passed out, he might be injured too.”