Edward

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Edward Page 17

by Marcus LaGrone


  Edward screamed and growled all at once; it wasn’t pain, it was primeval rage. His armor continued to swirl around them in an ethereal cloud while he drank in what had just happened. A burst of fire had come from across the street at them, cutting into the crowd in order to strike its prey. People outside were screaming in pain; most likely some were already dead. Inside, the atrium was covered with glass and the cratered rounds from the 25mm gun. Tazo collapsed to the ground; it was unclear how badly he had been hit. Gigi had thrown Mr. York to the ground. Outside, the armored car had set off its smoke dispensers to provide cover.

  Alex glared at Edward. “Stay here, do not chase!” he barked in the Highland tongue. There was no room for confusion.

  Edward nodded. “I’ll hold the fort. You hunt them down!”

  Alex hopped onto Meeka’s back and the pair vanished into the smoke outside.

  Edward looked down and realized Zoë had shouldered Tazo’s sidearm, ready to return fire if needed. She handled the weapon expertly, even though its controls were oversized for her. That threw Edward for a loop.

  “We need to move Tazo clear,” yelled Gillian over the confusion. “He’s still kicking.”

  With a quick nod, they all, with Gigi joining the group, dragged Tazo’s heavy form deep into the lobby and behind a massive pillar just as Edward’s comlink chirped.

  “Client is safe, Tazo injured. Requesting extraction from the roof,” barked Edward as they rolled Tazo over.

  “Massive leg injury,” observed Zoë.

  “It missed the bone and major arteries,” replied Gigi as the pair of them started to apply makeshift bandages. “We keep the pressure on it, and he should be fine.” She reached across his massive form, further exaggerated by her own slight form, and grabbed a tusk and shook, “You awake up there?”

  “Barely. Something struck my head as well,” came his broken response.

  “Gunship inbound, ten minutes,” came Trevor’s voice over the comlink. “Will Tazo hold that long or do we need to risk a frontal extraction for him?”

  Gigi slapped her comlink that had been expertly hidden in her dress, “He has a concussion from an aluminum sabot strike as well as massive leg bleeding. We believe we have the bleeding stabilized. I’d rather risk a tourniquet than risk a potshot from something serious.”

  “Understood,” came Trevor’s reply.

  Mr. York had scampered over behind the pillar, joining the crowd. His shocked looks were evenly divided between Zoë shouldering the Shukurae grenade launcher and Gigi applying first aid. “She was with you?”

  “I’m part of the 517th CSOG, yes.” Gigi shook Tazo by the tusk again, “Hey, you, stay talking to me if you can. Need something for pain?”

  “That would be appreciated.”

  Gigi hiked her dress, past a compact sidearm to a small container. She popped it open and pulled out a pair of pills, “Okay, big boy, swallow these. But don’t be surprised if the world gets a little silly.”

  Tazo obliged and soon was breathing much more easily and was giggling to himself.

  “That is serious stuff,” observed Gillian.

  Mr. York stared straight at Edward, “You were amazing. You know that?”

  “Now he figures it out,” giggled Tatiana.

  27

  Thirty minutes later they found themselves at the hospital. Tazo was in surgery; consistent with Gigi’s earlier appraisal, it was not expected that there would be any complications. The group loitered in Kadu’s room as they waited for news about Tazo and back from Trevor as well.

  “So, did Edward set a new record on going through partners?” joked Gillian to Kadu.

  “Actually, I anticipate Tazo will be back in service far sooner than one might expect.” Kadu grinned at Edward, “Do I understand that you soaked six, 25mm APFSDS rounds?”

  Edward smirked, “I soaked one. That was no fun. I took a cue from Gigi after that and just deflected the next four rounds. Alex took care of the sixth round.”

  “Ah! He learns! All those times I knocked his smug butt to the mat have finally paid off,” beamed Gigi.

  “Yes. Yes, ma’am. It did! If I had only learned earlier I would have kept my fur better in place.”

  “Eh, you learned at all,” beamed Gigi. “This teacher is happy just at that. Jumping subjects, Zoë. Um, you might want to hand over the grenade launcher. The hospital security doesn’t know you aren’t part of us, and that’ll make for some serious paperwork.”

  Zoë grinned as she handed over the weapon to Gigi who, in turn, carefully propped it in the corner.

  “Where did you learn to handle a weapon like that?” asked Gigi. “You did it quite reflexively even if it was the wrong size for you.”

  Zoë’s fur bristled and she broke eye contact, “Um, well, there are some things I learned at home besides piano.”

  “Why the heck does a young girl need to learn something like that?” asked Tatiana.

  “Well, she had to know how to protect herself in case her father came home,” offered Kadu plainly.

  Zoë’s eyes went wide and she turned and ran out of the room.

  “I said something I should not have,” groused Kadu. “Edward, go to her.”

  Edward nodded and quickly turned and ran out the room after Zoë. He didn’t have to go far; she had only made it ten meters down the hall before she had collapsed to the floor crying. Edward carefully approached and sat down beside her and gently put a hand on her shoulder.

  “She was right, of course,” Zoë said through the sobs. “My uncle taught me how to shoot, and I did my share of practice with him. Well, at least until father had him killed.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. If you don’t want to talk about it, that is okay.”

  “Don’t you think you deserve to know how messed up the girl you are engaged to is?”

  “I already know how strong she is. That is obvious. You aren’t messed up. You just had your share of challenges growing up. But you know what? You excelled in spite of them.”

  Zoë sat up next to him, “I just had hoped I could put all that behind me. I guess I should have known that the security detail would have known all about me. How detailed did they get about my family?”

  “I have no idea. It was treated as a need to know, and I had no reason to know.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. You and your brother have said something in passing about someone named Rachel, but I know nothing about her, for example.”

  Zoë sighed, “Well, do you want to know?”

  “Only if you want to tell me.”

  “Do you think you need to know?”

  “I don’t think I need to know. I quite clearly said ‘if you want to tell me.’”

  Zoë laughed, “You’ve been around Shukurae too much.”

  “Actually for that type of wordsmithing, I think I get from my oldest brother.”

  “Rachel died of a drug overdose. Her death was the catalyst that finally got my brother and me moved out of the house,” Zoë offered suddenly. “I never liked her. She was an annoying older sister, but that was no way to go. Dad had the drugs in the house. He’d run them from down south for extra cash. Rachel and her friends would skim a little now and then. I don’t know what all happened, I don’t want to know really, but one night she just didn’t wake up again.”

  Edward nodded, “I’m sorry to hear that. But I am glad you told me.” Edward was glad, it was that final level of trust and comfort that he had been missing with Zoë, and he was grateful for it.

  “Come on,” murmured Zoë, “Let’s get back before they send out a search team.”

  Edward helped Zoë to her feet and one long hug later they headed back to Kadu’s room. Tatiana was peeking around the corner as the approached. “You okay Zoë?”

  “Yeah, I’m just a little silly at times.”

  Kadu immediately started to apologize as they reentered the room but Zoë would have nothing of it. “Don’t worry Kadu,” began Zoë, “you did
n’t mean anything. It’s just been a long day. Too long.”

  “Tazo is out of surgery,” said Gillian, “Let’s go say our hellos and then go back to the hotel.”

  That sounded like the best idea anyone had heard in a long time.

  28

  “A 2x25mm Satyr Systems Mk3 Medium Auto-Canon. Betcha didn’t expect one of those, did you?” asked Trevor quite rhetorically over the comlink. Practice had been going an hour, and, considering how skittish everyone was acting, was actually going quite well. Three people had walked, citing “excessive and unreasonable risk.” None of the cast or crew had been in harms’ way yet, but Gillian did not challenge them and terminated their contracts without prejudice. On the up side, the opening night was sold out well in advance.

  “Um, no. No we didn’t expect one,” replied Alex over the link. “How narrow minded of us to not consider squad antiarmor weapons at a restaurant.” Alex needed a sponge to clean up the sarcasm.

  “What was the final verdict from last night? It looked grim from where we were,” interjected Edward.

  “Tazo injured, to be released today. Three civilians were injured, one critically. May result in amputation. Bad guys: one dead, two in hospital, both critical.”

  “They could always amputate their heads,” murmured Alex, careful not to have the comlink pick it up.

  “Whoa! Tazo is going to be released today?” asked Edward more than a little surprised.

  “Tough little bugger, isn’t he? Yeah, he’ll be on site in the afternoon. We are going to keep him on reserves for four days to give the stitches a better chance to heal. So be nice to him, Edward.”

  “Yes, sir!” Edward was delighted. Reserves or otherwise, he was looking forward to seeing Tazo on his feet. Shukurae were truly remarkable.

  “River of Tears?” Ah, that was Lucas.

  “Yes, indeed. The remarkable part is they had the weapon disassembled and delivered to a store across from the restaurant. It took them the last two days from what we can deduce. Ottra was able to flush them out of their spot using the armored car as cover, and Jake and Paul brought them down as they tried to run.”

  Awesome. Ottra was crazy gutsy; made the Shukurae proud. And those humans have sharp eyes and steady hands! “Next time at the bar, you guys, I’m buying.”

  “Oh, we got a nice queue, don’t worry,” came Paul’s laugh.

  “Which brings us back to the question of the day,” began Trevor in his casual voice.

  “How the heck did they get an auto-canon?” asked Alex.

  “There we have it!” chimed Trevor. “Anyone care to attach a name to this mess?”

  “If you say Police Constable Johann Talvis, I’m going to puke,” came Lucas’s voice.

  Edward agreed. If that rat was responsible for one more thing…

  “Nah, I was pulling your tail. It was Inspector Albert Dreyfous, his boss.”

  “And I’m supposed to feel better about that, how?” asked Alex.

  Edward nodded. They all felt sick at this point. How could people inside the police be involved in something so brazen?

  “Data, my fine furry friends,” came Takru voice with a sinister hiss. “We are now starting to be able to connect the dots between him and PC Talvis and project outward as to where their slimy fingers have spread. Working with the police’s Internal Affairs unit, we are starting to get patterns and several quick checks have already come up hot. Very hot. So hot that in less than twenty minutes they are going to be pulling some people off the street, the hard way.”

  “Do they have muscle they can trust?” came Ottra’s voice. Fair question coming from someone who had just stared down an auto-canon!

  “Takru brought it up, not me. So that means…?” teased Trevor.

  “We can’t go in, we’d be spread too thin,” replied Alex.

  “1212th CSOG?” asked Ottra.

  “Exactly!” boomed Takru. “Their IA-Task Force will be riding with them, but the 1212th will be the meat of the muscle.”

  “Owww!” grinned Alex.

  Edward suddenly had a soft warm feeling. Not exactly schadenfreude at its finest, but close. This was more like getting a chance to watch the karma-fairy.

  “Okay, boys and girls, that is someone else’s problem right now,” began Trevor in a way too cheerful voice, “so I have something planned to alleviate the boredom.”

  “Oh goody,” replied Edward sarcastically. “That means a drill.”

  “Exactly. Starts in 30 minutes and odds are 50:1 that the infiltrator can make it to the stage. Any bets?”

  “Just you serve the beer when you lose,” replied Alex. That was the normal bet. It was about pride, not money.

  “Fair enough. Please chatter in case something real happens in the meantime.”

  “Has anyone warned Gillian or the cast?” asked Edward.

  “Gillian has been warned. She has a comlink hardcoded to PB if you need to talk to her. I’ll warn her myself, when it actually starts.” Trevor was prepared, as always.

  Alex looked at Edward, “When did Gillian get a comlink?”

  Edward shrugged, “You are asking me to keep up with the miracle of sneakiness that is Trevor? Just shave my fur and call it a day.”

  Alex laughed as he and Meeka spread out from Edward and started to case the concert hall. Every day the hall seemed to grow larger and larger.

  Trevor’s thirty minutes went by and then thirty more. Edward was beginning to think that the drill was all about just trying to stress their systems when Trevor finally came over the comlink with an announcement, “Game is on, comlink sensors for Jake show no heart beat.”

  Rooftop. Was it a rooftop shot or was someone up there with him?

  “I have a bead on Jake; he is slumped over. I heard nothing,” observed Paul. “Wait a minute. There are no birds on the roof top either.”

  “I’ll take the rear access hatch,” offered Lucas.

  “Meeka and I will hit the service door,” replied Alex.

  “I’m going topside directly over the stage on the catwalks,” called out Edward as he jogged over to the stage and started climbing up the stairs. Gillian smiled at him as he went by.

  “Lucas and Krista are both off line,” called Trevor with sinister glee.

  Alex raised his live steel and Edward did the same as he dropped back to the stage. “Okay, the intruder is by the rear access hatch. Inside if they got Krista too. I’ll approach from the front, you loop around,” called Edward to Alex.

  “D-tack and silent,” came Alex’s reply.

  Edward stayed low as he slunk to the back of the concert hall. He moved in an uneven pace and staggered his breathing as he strained his eyes and ears for any trace of the intruder. Suddenly he heard Meeka call out and go down. Live Steel in hand and armor out, he raced toward Meeka and Alex. As he turned the corner he saw them both sprawled on the floor “dead” and looking quite annoyed with the world. That left a clean shot to the stage. Edward ran as fast as he could toward the stage while he scanned the floor and seats for the signs of the phantom intruder.

  As he reached the front hall, he noticed someone new sitting in the front row. A woman, someone he’d seen before, but somehow just didn’t click in his mind. Was she the intruder, a distraction, or a distraction by proxy? Oh CRAP! Suddenly Edward recognized the lady, she was Ivy Startford. If Ivy was here that meant the intruder was…

  A searing burst of pain lashed through him as a Live Steel blade, in practice mode, neatly stabbed him between the opening in his armor. He recoiled in pain and fell to the floor more frustrated than anything else.

  Edward slapped his comlink, “Trevor, that was dirty pool. We should have gotten way better odds than 50:1 with Llewellyn after our furry butts.”

  “Yeah, but if I had given proper odds, you would have figured out who it was immediately and then just told me to do something anatomically infeasible.”

  “I may tell you to do that yet,” groused Edward.

  “Okay, team
. Return to stations, the intruder made it to the stage.”

  “Would you like a hand up?” offered Llewellyn. His tone was sincere and brotherly. This whole thing was probably Trevor’s idea not Llewellyn’s.

  “Sure,” replied Edward. He was actually glad to see him. Pushy as his older brother was, that meant that at least he could breathe easily for a day or two. Llewellyn could probably take on the entire River of Tears gang by himself, seated, at a café, without spilling his drink. Edward could start to feel the jealousy crawl back under his skin. But this time it was different. He wanted to feel the comfort and knowledge that he could protect Tatiana and Zoë with the grace and power of a true High Silver. At least the longing was serving a higher purpose. At least that was what he was telling himself.

  Llewellyn looked nothing like Edward. He was tall and lean with a coat like a snow leopard. He moved with a grace and poise more like a dancer than a fighter. Edward was stronger, if it came to moving rocks. But his brother was faster and had far better endurance. He was a machine. In his day, he had been one of the premier riders. Banned by treaty from entering over four star systems, he was as feared as he was respected. Llewellyn hated all of that, but that was his history.

  “What brought you way out here, and with Ivy?” asked Edward, genuinely curious.

  “You and this production. I wanted to check up on you and Ivy was very curious about the show, the singer, and the piano player.”

  “Well, they are both excellent at what they do! Shall I introduce you to them?”

  “Sure, once there is a proper break. No sense in messing up practice on our account.”

 

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