Hero's End (The Black Wing Chronicles Book 2)

by JC Cassels

  Marin favored him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re not going to argue with me?”

  “Would it do any good?”

  “No.”

  “Then, why waste the energy?”

  “That’s it? You’re just going to obey?”

  Blade drew himself up to his full height and snapped to attention. “I’m a soldier, sir,” he replied. “Obeying orders is what I do. May I be dismissed, sir?”

  Marin nodded. “You may.”

  Executing the crispest salute he’d performed in years, Blade waited for the Overlord’s answering gesture before turning on his heel and marching for the door.

  He didn’t stop or speak to anyone until he reached the green salon. Perched nervously on the edge of his chair, Chase leaped to his feet when he entered.

  “Come on,” Blade said. “We’re leaving.”

  Without waiting for a response, he turned and left, headed for the side exit where the cruiser waited to return them to their transport. Chase rushed to keep up with him.

  “Dev? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

  “I’ve been reassigned to Trisdos,” he said. “I’m to close out my affairs on Cormoran and return. I have a month.”

  “Holy shit! What are you going to do?”

  Blade gave his brother a hard look.

  “Oh. What do you want me to do?”

  “Nothing,” Blade said. “This is my problem.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Blade guided the hovercycle into a parking space outside the row of theaters and studios, counting on the heavy traffic within the studio lot, and the studio guards at the front security gate, to do their job and delay his Sovran-assigned Inner Circle security detail just a bit longer. For the moment, he was blessedly alone.

  He switched off the engine and dismounted the cycle, then reached for the straps holding his helmet in place. As he pulled it off, he heard the faint sounds of a commotion from the theater as one of the emergency doors flew open. Blade’s head snapped around. A young actress burst through, running as if the terrors of hell chased her. Nyla Losh was too beautiful to be real, but she had all of three expressions and a completely monotone line delivery. She was only marginally better in bed. The only reason his affair with her had lasted through principal shooting of the one holofeature they’d made together had been because the producer begged him not to end it until they’d wrapped. It had been the only way to make their onscreen love scenes believable.

  She certainly wasn’t talented enough to fake the fear on her pale face. In her panic, she ran directly towards the path of an oncoming load hauler. Blade intercepted her in a few quick strides, catching her about her narrow waist and pulling her out of harm’s way. She let out a shriek as he touched her. She fought him until she recognized him. Then she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder.

  “Oh Blade! Thank the Maker it’s you!”

  “Nyla, what’s going on?” he asked.

  “We were getting set up for auditions and these men came in! They had guns! Real guns! They shot Tooty!”

  Blade’s stomach gave a little twist.

  “Is she alright?”

  Nyla shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t wait around to see, but she was cursing like a Skyhopper.”

  Blade’s lips twitched. Tooty had a mouth on her. If she was swearing, she was likely more angry than hurt.

  He cast a speculative eye towards the open theater door. A tiny spark of hope flickered to life. After weeks of compliance and submission, going through the motions of tying up the loose ends of his life in holofeatures, this could be the break he’d been waiting for. Men with guns often had the means to get off-planet quickly. If he played this scene right, he might be able to make his escape once and for all.

  “Did you see how many men?” Blade asked.

  She shook her head. “No, it was like they were everywhere. They were shooting from the balcony and shooting from the wings…”

  “At each other? Or at you?”

  “I don’t know… at each other, maybe.”

  Rival factions. The only question was, which one would be the easiest to manipulate. That depended entirely on what they were after. His mind raced ahead, formulating strategies for every possible course of action.

  Adrenaline flooded his system and a sense of purpose washed over him. One way or another, it ended here. He looked towards the theater and the terrified screams coming from the open door. He set Nyla away from him.

  “Get out of here,” he said. “Go to security and report it. Tell them to contact the authorities.”

  “You’re not going in there!” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck again.

  Swallowing his annoyance, he pried her loose. “Don’t worry about me,” he said with a grin, slipping easily into the holofeature hero role he’d played ever since he’d walked away from his Inner Circle career five years earlier. “I’m just going to take a look in the door and see if I can help anyone else get out before the authorities get here. I’m not a hero. I only play one in holofeatures.” He shrugged her off. Now wasn’t really the time. “Call it research for my next role.” He nudged her towards the security office. “Go get help.”

  With one last, dubious look, she took off running for the security office.

  Staring after her to make sure she didn’t run out into traffic again, Blade’s grin faded. There wouldn’t be another role. His career in holofeatures was over. Lord Marin had seen to that. If he couldn’t find a way to shake his security detail before they dragged him back to Trisdos and the desk job Lord Marin was forcing him to take, he doubted he’d ever see Bo again.

  He glanced at the darkness that filled the open door of the theater. Colorful flashes lit the shadows. The unmistakable whine and hiss of blaster fire punctuated the shrieks and howls of civilians unaccustomed to live fire.

  Maker help him. If he didn’t find a way around Marin’s orders, this could well be his last firefight, too, and that simply wouldn’t do. They were too damn much fun.

  Blade strode up the walk to the open door, unfastening his jacket as he went. If he needed the blaster nestled in the shoulder holster under his arm, he wanted to be able to reach it. If he played his role right, he wouldn’t need it. Nothing short of a squad of IC-trained Predators would provide much of a challenge.

  He sidled up to the doorframe and peered inside. Two young humanoid females huddled behind a row of dank and musty seats, sobbing in terror. They reeked of that strange combination of sweet fragility and blind ambition that marked aspiring starlets. Ordinarily he didn’t see their type this frightened outside of fending off lecherous producers. Energy blasts split the air around them. Poor kids. Fear paralyzed them, making them stay put when good sense should be pushing them out the door to safety. They weren’t really in the line of fire, but the way they huddled there, one would think they were pinned down.

  Civilians! He shook his head. Give him a woman who raced towards the guns any day over these vapid, purely decorative creatures. Bo had spoiled him for other women. Just the thought of the brilliant, fierce woman he loved brought a smile to his lips.

  Keeping low, Blade moved quickly towards them and plopped down beside them, flashing his trademark lopsided grin.

  “Hello,” he said, as casually as if he’d just joined them for dinner. “Beautiful day outside, isn’t it?”

  Stifling their sobs, they gazed at him in surprise.

  He offered his hand to one of them. “My name’s Blade,” he said. “Blade Devon.”

  “S-S-Silva,” she stammered taking his hand.

  “That’s a lovely name,” he said. “I’ll bet your mother was a fan of poetry.”

  She nodded, her eyes wide.

  “This is no place for you ladies right now,” he said gently. “It’s a bit too violent in here, don’t you think?”

  He waited for their nods before he rose up to look around.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.


  They nodded again.

  Crouching back behind the row of seats, he looked from one to the other and smiled reassuringly. “I want you to stay low and follow these seats to the door, like I did,” he said. “Do you think you can do that?”

  They nodded.

  “Good,” he said. “When you get outside, I want you to get as far from here as you can, got it?”

  “What about you?” Silva’s friend asked.

  He shook his head. “I’m going to see if anyone else needs help getting out of here,” he said. “Don’t worry about me. I do this sort of thing all the time, or haven’t you seen my holofeatures?”

  They didn’t look convinced, but dutifully nodded. At his signal, they fled for the door, following his directions and making it safely outside.

  Blade studied the ongoing firefight while moving steadily towards a better vantage point. As near as he could tell, three gunmen faced at least eight, with a half-dozen innocent bystanders trapped in the crossfire. The civilians were his first priority. He moved towards one of the gunmen.

  Surprisingly young, he crouched down behind a partition and fired over the civilians’ heads at the eight men who had taken positions along the stage and wings. He didn’t sense Blade’s approach until Blade was nearly on top of him. He turned quickly and leveled his blaster at him. Blade stopped and held out his hands to his sides.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Blade Devon.” He flashed his most engaging smile and offered his hand. “Is this a private audition or can anyone join in?”

  The young man muttered a curse and turned his attention back to the firefight. After a few seconds he turned back to Blade.

  “Wait…did you say you’re Blade Devon?” he asked.

  Blade nodded. “In the flesh.” He sat down beside the man in blithe unconcern and stripped off his riding gloves. “So what’s my motivation? What’s the conflict? Who are those guys?” He nodded towards the eight gunmen.

  “What?” He shook his head in disbelief. A shot hit the partition sending him ducking behind it. “Umm…they’re the bad guys.”

  “What did they do?” Blade asked.

  “They took a diary that belonged to a lady,” he said. He flinched as a volley of shots struck the other side of the wall. “We were hired to recover it. We did, and they want it back. Adin’s up there in the balcony with our client, trying to keep her from getting shot.”

  Blade peered up into the balcony. “What the hell is your client doing in the middle of a firefight?”

  The baby-faced young man he assumed to be Adin huddled behind the audio console with Jetta Thomme.

  “Ah, Jetta,” Blade said, comprehending the situation. “She’s always getting herself into these things. Better you than me this time. I take it this is about the tell-all she’s been bragging about.”

  Blade looked Adin over, taking his measure. Adin wore a jeweled band woven through his reddish-blond hair like some kind of elaborate diadem. The two young men looked more like bored, spoiled sons of well-to-do families than mercenaries or private investigators. Between their trendy clothes and their up-to-the-millisecond haircuts, they looked more like they belonged in a teen fan periodical.

  A shot whizzed past the young man’s head and he ducked lower behind his cover. Though he was close to Blade in height, he managed to hunker tightly down, getting very small. Another blast struck, sending sparks showering over them. He covered his head with his hands.

  “You might want to try shooting back at them,” Blade said, folding his arms across his chest.

  The young man stared at him; his brown eyes wide with disbelief and fear. “You do know this isn’t a holofeature, don’t you?”

  “You know you’re in way over your head, don’t you?” Blade countered matter-of-factly. “I’m sorry… What did you say your name was?”

  “Kayne,” he replied, “and yeah. It’s occurred to me.”

  Blade shook his head. “It’s only a matter of time before you’re flanked and overrun,” he said. “They’ve started going for position. If they get the upper hand, it’s going to be a bloodbath.” He nodded towards the civilians huddled under the seats. “And you’ve got innocent bystanders there who’ll be used as hostages before long. What you need to do is draw their fire while I get those people out of there. You help me get them out, then I’ll even the odds a bit for you. Do we have a deal?”

  “Are you for real?”

  “Oh, I never joke about heroics.” Blade smiled. “That’s what pays my bills. Let me get into position and when I give you the signal, I want you to draw their fire.”

  Dumbfounded, Kayne nodded.

  “That means you’re going to have to get up and shoot at them… They’ll be shooting back at you.”

  Kayne swallowed hard and nodded his understanding. His hand flexed around the grip of his blaster and he slowly started unfolding from his hunched position.

  Blade patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. “Don’t expose yourself too much and don’t take unnecessary chances,” he said, rising to a crouch.

  Blade slipped away. If he was any judge of character, Kayne would do as Blade told him. He didn’t seem like a hardened killer. As he made his way across the theater, he studied the eight gunmen. Now, they looked like hardened killers.

  He didn’t like having armed civilian variables in the mix. Too unpredictable. That’s why he’d played it so blasé with Kayne. He needed the kid to back him up, but he wanted to make sure he didn’t get shot either. He also needed Kayne’s blind trust, and he wasn’t above playing on his holofeature hero persona to get it.

  If he’d had his IC security detail with him, they’d have mopped up the situation by now. Eight armed thugs were hardly a match for a small squad of Inner Circle Agents. As long as he didn’t get sloppy, Blade was willing to gamble they wouldn’t be a match for a lone IC Predator.

  He smiled to himself. This should be fun. If Kayne and his friends had a way off the planet, this could work.

  He moved to the end of the row where the civilians huddled together. Fear roiled the air around them and hit his solar plexus like a roundhouse kick. His bile rose. Their terrified faces lifted to him, showing a small measure of relief. He recognized one or two aspiring young actresses who’d been vying for his attention. Swallowing down his sudden nausea, he plunged through the negative energy as Tahar had taught him. He slipped back into the holofeature hero role, wrapping it around him like full body armor. He smiled reassuringly at them as he quickly closed the distance to them.

  “So, are we having fun?” he asked.

  “Blade, what’s going on?”

  “We’re going to get you out of here,” he said. “This is all a big misunderstanding. When I tell you, I want you to follow the aisle towards the back and out the emergency exit. Whatever you do, keep your heads down and stay low. Got it?”

  They nodded.

  “Tooty, Nyla said you were hit,” he said, spying the diminutive blonde huddled in the center of the group.

  She nodded.

  “Can you get up?”

  She shook her head.

  He moved closer and quickly assessed her injury. She’d taken one in the hip. There was no way she could make it out on her own. Conscious of the scrutiny of the frightened actors, he kept his expression as confident as he could manage. He smiled at her. “It hurts like hell, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  “You’re going to be fine,” he assured her. “It’s not serious, but I don’t think you should be moved until medics get here.”

  He turned to the person nearest, an acting coach whose name he couldn’t remember. “As soon as you get outside, let security know there’s an injury in here.” He looked to Tooty. “I’m sorry, I can’t get you out, but if you stay low and keep quiet, you’ll be fine. I’m going to try to end this as quickly as possible.” He looked around. “Is everybody ready?”

  He waited for their nods, then caught Kayne’s eye and waved h
is hand towards the center of the theater. Nodding, Kayne opened fire and moved towards a more central position. The gunmen opened up on him, concentrating fire on his position.

  Blade led the bystanders towards the aisle and stepped to one side, directing them all towards the exit. As the last one departed, he winked at Tooty, then hopped up onto the row of seats and quickly vaulted into the box adjacent to the stage. His feet hit the floor with a resounding thump, startling the gunman. He turned and leveled his sidearm at Blade. Not wasting any time, Blade stepped inside his reach, taking control of his weapon with one hand and elbowing him in the face. The gunman went down like an unstrung puppet. Blade took the man’s sidearm and slipped out of the box through the curtained doorway.

  He hadn’t had to draw his blaster after all.

  Moving quickly and silently, he slipped down the steps. He moved through the darkened wings of the stage and silenced two more gunmen with professional efficiency. He peered around the heavy curtain, noting the positions of three other gunmen: one in the orchestra, two in the wings opposite. Drawing a deep breath to steady himself, he stepped away from the curtain and dispatched first the one in the orchestra, then the other two in the wings. He stepped back into the shadows.

  That left two unaccounted for. They had moved since he’d got the civilians out. He scanned the auditorium for any sign of them, but all shooting had stopped. They hadn’t left. He could still feel them. He only hoped Kayne and his associates had sense enough not to…

  “Adin? Phinny?” Kayne called out.

  “I’m fine,” a small tenor voice rang out.

  “We’re good,” a mellow baritone sounded from the balcony.

  No. Apparently, they didn’t have sense enough not to give away their positions.

  “Blade? Mister Devon? Are you alright?”

  Not bothering to respond, Blade held position, his eyes scanning for any sign of movement.