by K. C. Sivils
The Predator and The Prey
An Inspector Thomas Sullivan Thriller
K.C. Sivils
Copyright © 2017 by K.C. Sivils
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
www.KCSivils.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.
www.gobookcoverdesign.com
Book Layout © 2015 BookDesignTemplates.com
The Predator and The Prey/ K.C. Sivils. -- 1st ed.
ISBN 978-1540400406
To F. James Price, always a gentleman and lover of words.
“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” - Edmund Burke –
I want to thank Col. Tom Wilson USAF (retired) and Virginia P. Watts for their encouragement to see this work completed.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE____________________________________
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
NUMBER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
“This guy is supposed to be a screw up. Did you see that shot? Did you? He never even broke stride! Just walked along and drew down on the perp. Must have missed the hostage by an inch.”
With a quick tap of the mouse the video played again. The reflection of the nervous viewers face shined in the monitor’s screen, displaying a thin sheen of sweat on his face and forehead.
“We have an enemy we don’t know about. That’s what I think,” the well-groomed man sitting across the office said calmly.
“No, this guy is supposed to be a screw up. It’s all in his files, medical discharge from the Space Marines to cover up an incident. Transferred from every planet he’s ever served on and not by his request. Screw-ups don’t make shots like that!”
“No need to get excited,” the second man said calmly, brushing a piece of imaginary lint from his suit coat. “This can work to our advantage.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Somebody sent him. We find out who sent him and we find out who’s working against us.
“What do you have on this cop?”
The small, nervous man of Earth Asian ancestry pushed a tablet across his desk, watching the replay again. “Names Sullivan. Thomas Sullivan.”
CHAPTER TWO
I hate shooting perps in public places, too many people around to see the dirty part of my job. I hate it even more when rich people are involved. Rich tourists are the worst.
First day on the job and I had to go and shoot a perp. I’d just cleared customs and retrieved my weapons when I spotted commotion just beyond the wait lines for security to board the starliner. Some young punk hopped up on whatever the local form of amphetamine is had grabbed some spoiled rich young princess away from her daddy and was holding a knife to her neck.
Tired from two weeks of hyperspace travel, I was in no mood to talk the punk down. So I shot him. One shot, one kill. Hostage crisis resolved or so you’d think. I learned later the punk was little miss rich princess’ secret street hood boyfriend she’d picked up while on vacation on Beta Prime. Seems he had no intention of living without her, or the drugs her daddy’s money could buy.
I found out later I was only partially right.
You’d think dear old dad would be happy I’d solved what was going to be a messy and expensive problem for him so easily. Nah. His wife got upset because the blood all over baby girl’s dress traumatized the little princess. Now I have to fill out even more paperwork because mom and dad want to file a complaint.
I decided I’d deal with it later. Tired of the cheap fare fed to the masses in steerage, I’d skipped breakfast, deciding to eat at the first hole in the wall diner I could find dirtside. Besides, I wanted to get a look at my new home before I actually reported in.
Common sense said not to ignore the yelling idiot of a parent, but common sense and I were not always on good speaking terms. Besides, the omnipresent surveillance cameras had caught everything and I would be exonerated. After yelling at me for several minutes and being ignored, dad threatened me with the law.
I got a laugh from the look on his face when he saw my badge. That and the good look he finally got of my face. That does it for most people. He scurried off, spewing threats, something like he knew people in high places. Good luck with that. I only associated with people in low places.
Retrieving the one bag I had checked, I stopped at the freight checkout. I left orders for my small container to be sent to the address I’d been provided. I got another immediate reminder of how I’d gotten the job. The handler smiled pleasantly and informed me for an additional fee he’d make sure nothing happened to the contents of my container en route.
He should have looked at my face first.
After I showed him my badge and bent the thumb on his left hand all the way back to his forearm, I was fairly certain he was just as motivated to make sure nothing happened to my belongings as if I had actually paid the bribe.
People moved out of my way as I walked slowly down the main concourse. They usually do. At two meters tall and 120 kilos of mainly muscle and bone, I’m hard to miss. The thick, ugly scar that ran from my hairline across my forehead all the way to my jawline on my right cheek usually helped motivate people to politely move out of my way.
That and the fact my right eye is a much darker royal blue than the lighter azure of my left eye.
The surgeons hadn’t been able to save my eye when they put my face back together. At first it bothered me. That is until I got used to controlling all the features that came with the new eye. Having a tiny computer inserted into you takes some getting used to. It was the same size as my new eye and had been carefully attached to the posterior side of my right clavicle. It controlled my cybernetic eye.
It wasn’t all bad though. I could record images with the thing and it was an amazing targeting system.
It also controlled my repaired left hand. My thumb and four fingers had to be replaced as the result of the same blast that cost me my eye. I’d been lucky. Most military grade synthetic skin grafts looked pretty bad. Unle
ss you were a plastic surgeon, you couldn’t tell just to look at my hand.
Donning the greatcoat that I’d retrieved from my bag, I stepped outside into the infamous cold of my new home world, Beta Prime. It was nighttime and the cabbies were hurriedly dropping off their fares and hustling to pick up arrivals from the starliner I’d just disembarked from, the St. Gabriel.
My badge had helped me get on the first shuttle down from the space station where the St. Gabriel had docked. My size and general demeanor helped me move past the waiting passengers and grab a cab.
The temperature in the cab wasn’t much warmer than the climate outside, even after I shut the door. The cabbie who looked back at me through the safety shield had a couple days growth worth of stubble and by the looks of things hadn’t bathed in a couple of days either, making me thankful for the safety shield separating us.
“Where to?”
“Know any good places to eat? No chain stuff. Earth food though.”
The cabbie turned on his meter and engaged the hover drive, lifting the vehicle from the pavement. Without looking he floored the drive and whipped the cab into the departure lane leading away from the terminal.
“I know just the place. If you don’t mind mixing with the locals.”
CHAPTER THREE
My ride through Capital City was interesting. Sort of. Typical capital city of a developing planet. Nice buildings and hover cars around the space terminal and government buildings. High rise apartments for those lucky enough to have the money and connections to live there. Not the part of town I would be living in though I’m sure I’ll spend plenty of time working there.
Crime on a planet like Beta Prime doesn’t care what part of town you live in.
I liked my cabbie. He didn’t talk. More or less took me in a direct route to a working class neighborhood. It was on the edge of the nice part of town that butted up against the ore processing plants. It had started snowing when he parked his cab outside a place called Joe’s American Diner.
Depending on which sign you read first that is. Joe’s was located on a street corner. On the main road the name of the place was Joe’s American Diner. The entrance on the side street had a different name.
I had a good laugh at that. Eat at Joe’s.
From the outside it looked typical enough. Plastisteel construction. Dirty. Covered in grime from the processing plants and the constant smearing from the melt off from the snow and ice. Probably one of the first commercial constructs in this area once the processing plants were finished. The workers have to eat somewhere.
Paid the cabbie and got out. It felt good to be in my element. Joe’s was more than just a local eat spot. It was a bar as well. I noticed the cabbie had turned off his on duty sign and locked up his cab.
“Off duty,” he explained at my curious glance. “I live around here. My wife waits tables at Joe’s.”
“So I paid you to drive yourself home.”
“Look, you said you wanted to eat Earth food at a local hole in the wall. You didn’t give me much more to go on than that.”
“Fair enough. What’s your name?”
“Ralph Jameson. Just call me Ralph.”
“Ralph it is.”
“What’s your name? I didn’t catch it.”
“Didn’t offer it. You might not want to know it.”
Ralph’s face paled slightly. “Look, I don’t want any trouble, okay. I just took you to a place to eat, that’s all.”
I laughed to myself. The smaller man looked tired in his crumpled clothes. Ralph surprised me. He didn’t smell nearly as bad as he looked.
“No problem. I don’t want any trouble either. Look, no hard feelings. I’ll buy you a beer when we’re inside.”
“Beer is good,” Ralph said with a grin, leading the way toward the entrance to Joe’s.
The double doors of the entrance were under one of those faux neon signs popular in certain parts of town. Cliché really. Eat at Joes Bar and Grill in reddish pink with green highlights behind it lighted up the entrance off the side street.
My new acquaintance Ralph walked right up to the doors and entered, giving me a glimpse of the place inside. It also let me see the two toughs just inside the door. Joe’s really was a bar.
Ralph sauntered off in the direction of the bar without looking back. The two tough guys ran a scanner over me.
“You’ll have to check your firearms here sir,” the tough with the shaved head informed me.
I smiled back as I ignored him and walked into the place. My smile vanished when I felt the tip of a phase pistol between my shoulder blades.
“Sir, house rules. Nobody carries. Your weapons will be returned to you when you leave. This is a friendly neighborhood establishment.”
I turned just enough to look at Baldies face. He meant it. So did I when I hit him right on the button of his chin with my left hand. While he collapsed to the floor and before his genetically enhanced friend could move, I had drawn, thumbed the safety off and pointed my old school chemically powered, kinetic energy weapon at his nose. Looking down the dark space of a rifled barrel always gives a man pause.
“I don’t give my weapons up for anyone. Nor do I have to,” I informed my new red-faced friend. With my left hand I reached inside my coat and pulled out my badge. He looked at it and blinked a couple of times.
“I’m sorry Inspector. We didn’t know.”
“No problem. I’m new in town. Haven’t gotten to know the local help yet. Just to show there’s no hard feelings on my part, I’ll pay for a couple of beers for you and your partner.”
Giganto looked at me long and hard before realizing he wasn’t going to intimidate me. I also noticed he took a good long look at my right eye before taking a quick peek at my left hand. He grinned and nodded in recognition.
“You serve?”
“Yeah. While back.”
“We’ll take you up on those beers. But please, no more trouble or we won’t be able to let you come back. Foods good here.”
Baldy stood up rubbing his sore chin. He looked less than happy. I guess his professional pride was hurt.
I made my way to an empty booth in the far corner near the door to the kitchen area. It was dark there and I could keep an eye on the three entrances, main street, the bar and the entrance to the kitchen from there. Ralph had disappeared and that was fine with me.
The locals watched me sit down without much interest. Evidently it could get rough here this time of night. The décor was pure Earth. This was a joint for humans. Images of classical musicians from old Earth adorned the walls. Bands like The Rolling Stones, which I had studied back when I was in school, and other similar musical groups from different time periods.
A glance at the lighting told me this place served two entirely different crowds. During the day it served breakfast and lunch to workers. In the evening families who could afford it ate here. Or maybe dad was springing for a night for mom to not cook and they brought their kids here for comfort food from the home planet.
After dinner time though, the crowd changed and the lighting got turned down. People didn’t like bright lights when they drank or engaged in business. I made a note to myself to get to know Joe, if there was a Joe. This was a legit business. Whether or not it was a front, I’d have to learn.
I picked up a worn menu from the booth’s table. The seat was comfortable and not too lumpy from the years of use. I ran my hand over the red, faux leather and looked at my fingers, noting they weren’t covered with anything nasty. The same could be said for the table’s surface. Another glance at the brown colored plastisteel walls indicated the place was not too dirty. It was just worn and darkly lit.
A waitress approached, dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt. She looked tired and none too happy about my arrival. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She could have been pretty if she put on a little make-up and didn’t have rings under her eyes. Her nose had been broken too and should have been set. Crooked teeth drew att
ention to her thin lips. My right eye caught a slight scar on her lower left lip.
“Can I get you something?”
“Yeah. A cheeseburger. Fries. Large coke.”
She laughed. “I didn’t figure you for a teetotaler.”
“Don’t always judge people when you first see them. By the way, the two tough guys at the bar entrance, beers on me, okay. And there was a cabbie who brought me here. Beer for him too. Put’em on my tab.”
“Ralph brought you here? Joe’s not going to like that. You showin’ up his guys and all.”
I shrugged and looked away. She got the message and left to place my order.
I sat quietly, minding my own business, checking out the place. Lots of other interesting images and artifacts were displayed on the walls. Early starliners and space freighters were another common item. Famous places from old Earth cities like New Orleans, Houston, Paris, London, Berlin, even Moscow.
The sound of a glass hitting the table brought my attention back to my immediate surroundings. Sitting down on the other side of the booth was a man of average height and build with mouse brown hair slicked back. He was clean-shaven and smelled of decent cologne. I glanced at his hands and saw the scars and reddish skin of hands that had worked long hours in a kitchen. His clothes were nothing special, khaki work pants and a black shirt.
“My name is Joe,” he said flatly.
“You own the place.”
“Yeah. Who are you? I don’t like people causing trouble. Sometimes we get a few idiots in here at night and I don’t tolerate it.”
“I can understand. If they had not pushed the issue, there wouldn’t have been any trouble,” I answered before taking a sip from my ice cold Coke.
“Who are you?”
“Didn’t say.”
“Well, enjoy your soft drink and then leave. I like to know my customers.”
I reached into my jacket quickly, startling Joe. Slowly I withdrew my badge and handed it to him. He examined it thoroughly, so much so that he told me a few things I wanted to know and wouldn’t have to ask around to find out now.