The Great Game Trilogy

by O. J. Lowe

  “So, what are our chances?” the girl asked. Prideaux didn’t realise she’d spoken out loud during her diagnostic.

  “If we get into the air, about fifty to fifty,” she said. “We fail to get off the ground, probably about… Yeah zero. No chance. We’ll die here.”

  The girl closed her eyes and just for a moment nothing happened. Then the ship shuddered, threatening to rise off the deck. It stuttered and then crashed back down. She opened her eyes, suddenly panting. “Too heavy,” she said. “It’s too heavy.”

  Useless little bitch… “And completely useless as well,” she said, still working her fingers away over the controls. “All we need is a spark…” She paused as inspiration struck, she rerouted power down through the secondary diffusers, caught it on the rise and then flooded the spare back through the primary. This time when the engines kicked to life, they stayed alive. “Oh, you little beauty,” she said, already working the stick back to guide it up off the ground. “Let’s get the hells out of here.”

  Bits of the ceiling were starting to fall away around them as they made their way to the hangar doors, she had to be quick on her feet to evade the debris, last thing she needed was to be crushed like an egg. Prideaux swore as one came down in her path, had to nudge the ship to the side to avoid crashing. That would have topped an already stressful day.

  They’d just about made it through the hangar doors when the airbase collapsed around them.

  Total collapse might have been an exaggeration but at the same time, the wing of the structure they’d been in was crumpling, the twin outer structures falling from the central ‘eyeball’ part of the base. They’d jettisoned the damaged parts, Prideaux realised, the destruction clear to see from up here. Smoking craters and long trails of destruction had been painted all over the surface of the twin outer hulls, fires dying as they fell away through the air. At least there was nothing but water below. No chance of a small town being wiped out by them hitting it.

  For a long moment, the orb hung there in the air, dwarfing even the dreadnoughts in the distance. And then it turned to run, hitting maximum acceleration in a matter of seconds. No time to track it, no time to guess where it might be going. One moment it was there, the next it was a speck in the distance. Out of sight but not out of mind. Prideaux swore. This mission had to have been the biggest bust ever. All for nothing. She’d been interrupted from her own task by this little bitch and all left now was what to do about it. The girl looked relieved. Time to see how long she could make that last for.

  Chapter Twenty. From Here.

  “I’ve always been a firm believer that if you want to hide a door, the best way to do it is in plain sight. It helps if it doesn’t look like a door, of course. Some people display an almost chronic inability to see beyond the surface of things.”

  Almer Rushford, former Vedo to his apprentice.

  The fourth day of Summerfall.

  Nobody was saying anything much and certainly nothing more than they had to. An aura of pervasive silence filled the makeshift Unisco office as everyone present found themselves crowded around the viewing screen, watching the ongoing speech. Six people were present in the pictures, all widely known throughout the five kingdoms. Ahead of them all was Cosmin Catarzi, Chancellor of the Senate of Representatives, the nominated figurehead in charge of it all. Behind him were the rulers of the individual kingdoms, Adam Abbot, First Minister of Canterage, Joseph Christopher McCoy, President of Premesoir, Luisa de Alcacer Giminez, High Queen of Serran, Masahiro Nakamura, Emperor of Burykia and finally Leonard Nwakili, the Premier of Vazara. All wore expressions of solemnity, a show of unity. A dozen or so prominent senators stood behind them, all part of the fabric of the government that made up the five kingdoms, all stood together in one space at one time.

  Nick couldn’t help but think it was a tremendously bad idea. If things went south, as it felt like there was a pretty good chance of them doing, a lot of them would be in danger. Arnholt had told them as much, Catarzi had pushed it off. He’d refused to bow to the threat, saying they’d show the solidarity that had formed the kingdoms initially. They’d live together, and they’d die together if it came to it. He couldn’t help but wonder what some of the senators would have thought given the choice. Most of them weren’t renowned for having a strong centre of fibre when it came to statements like that.

  “From here on out,” Catarzi intoned deeply, drawing on every word as if his life depended on it. “There is no way to mistake it as anything else, we are at war. And yet our war is not with our neighbours abroad, it is a war with an enemy within our midst. Yesterday, the first shots were fired in the skies above the Vazaran ocean. Many lives were lost, plenty of servicemen and women who devoted their lives to peace will not be returning to their families. It is a war of interests, a clash of ideologies. The enemy is none other than a woman many of you may have respected or liked or even taken credits from over the years. Claudia Coppinger. Vital Unisco intelligence acquired at great risk has shown some of the truly sinister nature of her plans, including building a battle station and a fleet of warships. And although a five kingdoms taskforce managed to deal serious losses to her, she escaped. Most of her lieutenants escaped. Her station escaped, the limits of her armies remain unknown.”

  He looked more and more stressed out the longer the statement went on, Nick felt a little sorry for him really. It wasn’t the sort of news anyone wanted to deliver, the sort of thing that anyone wanted to happen in their lifetime. And here he was, telling the entire five kingdoms they were about to descend into civil war. Whatever happened, whichever side won, history would remember Catarzi as the man who had let it happen. His legacy was already tarnished, he probably wanted it over as quickly as possible. Something everyone in this room had in common.

  “Poor bastard,” Derenko voiced aloud. It was hard for him to look too sad, Nick noticed. Derenko had been buzzing ever since they’d returned from the mission, his Unisco stock at an all-time high with the capture of every major crime boss in the five kingdoms, barring Cyris of course. He’d been told all about how the pardon for the man was already winging its way to Catarzi’s desk, urgent priority and highly recommended to be acted on. There were even rumours Derenko was about to be promoted off the back of it. No wonder he looked way too pleased, despite everything that had happened.

  “He’s not wrong though,” Caldwell said, still checking out his surroundings. To the best of Nick’s knowledge, this was the first time he’d been here, and he was still treating it like there was an enemy around every corner. Still it paid to be suspicious, for if Claudia Coppinger had a kill list, Caldwell was probably the top name on it. That wouldn’t just be business, it’d be personal as well. Right now, Nick didn’t envy Caldwell one bit at all. “It’s going to be a mess. You know how many people Reims has employed over the last ten years? You know how many people their feeder companies employ? Any of them could sympathise with my sister. A lot of people will. It’s probably how she accrued so many armaments in the first place without anyone noticing. Credits and charisma account for a lot. What you saw upstairs wasn’t the entire thing, it was just the start.”

  “As chairwoman and owner of Reims Incorporated, Claudia Coppinger has proven to be a truly shrewd mind in the business world,” Catarzi said. “We can only hope for a swift resolution to the situation and that her talents do not run as prolifically to warfare as they did to the business world. All Reims assets left in the five kingdoms are in the process of being seized and held in Senate acquisition.”

  “That’ll be the investors running for the hills,” Lysa said. “Maybe this’ll bring a quick resolution to the whole thing.”

  Caldwell shook his head. “I doubt it. That’s just the company. It won’t make a difference. She’s been bleeding the books creatively for years. It’s worthless really, little more than a pretty shell. The real credits from it have long been siphoned into personal accounts under a dozen different names in a dozen different offshore islands,
some of which don’t even appear on maps. She’s smarter than that, she didn’t want it to happen this soon, but she knew as soon as it came out into the open it’d explode into one unholy mess. My sister might be many things but unfortunately, stupid has never been one of them.”

  “So, no quick resolution then?” Aldiss said hopefully. He echoed the thought passing through all their minds. The longer this went on, the more danger each of them would be in individually. The number of dangerous missions on offer would go up, all of them would be vital and there’d be a greater chance of being killed. Of course, it was what they’d been trained for. They’d all just prefer it if that wasn’t the case. If you were going to die, perhaps it was better to die for a just cause. What felt like a better one than this?

  “Not likely,” Brendan said.

  “In addition to this shocking act of treason,” Catarzi said. “Another has already been spawned out of it. The Vazaran Suns were tolerated by everyone despite the element of lawlessness that runs through them…” He shot Nwakili an annoyed look out the corner of his eye, Nwakili who continued to stare determinedly into the camera. His face betrayed no emotion, “chose to join Coppinger in her treason. Dark Wind ships rushed to join the engagement in the skies yesterday, their involvement was key in ensuring she could escape with most of her assets intact. Therefore, as is traditional in these times, I am posting bounties on everyone involved.”

  “This never helps!” Wilsin exclaimed. “I don’t know why he thinks it does!”

  As he’d pointed out, it was traditional at times like these for bounties to be posted in hope those unfettered by the law might be able to end it all quickly. Nick had always thought it displayed a contradictory message but there was always someone willing to try and get the credits. Offering a million credits for the head of Claudia Coppinger certainly had its attractions. It was a shame none of them would be able to claim it if they killed her. The theory put to them being that since they were already employed in a profession that meant they were being paid to pull the trigger on her when it came down to it, they were not about to be paid twice to do the job. Those putting the credits up weren’t completely stupid.

  Of course, it never quite went as planned. So many would-be bounty hunters sprang up out of the woodwork at times of crisis like this in hopes of striking it rich. It meant there’d be a lot of bodies piled up in the streets before long. Semi-retired soldiers, blaster nuts, medicated psychopaths, they all suddenly seemed to lose their sense and go after the men and women the bounties were posted on. Very few of them lived to claim the credits.

  Claudia Coppinger, a million credits. Fair enough. Phillippe Mazoud, eight hundred thousand. Arguably a much harder target to deal with. Had he been in the shoes of those bounty hunters, Nick wouldn’t have touched that one. It was pretty much a suicide note left unwritten. To remove Mazoud, one would likely have to fight through the Vazaran Suns as well. Connor Caldwell had already told them about Coppinger’s right hand man, a man named Domis who David Wilsin had already claimed to have killed. Noorland had even shown them video footage of some of the fight. Nick hadn’t quite been able to miss the smirk on Caldwell’s face when he’d heard him say that. He’d even voiced his disbelief out loud, pointing out how hard to kill Domis was allegedly. In fairness to him, Wilsin had agreed, telling them all how he hit like a wrecking ball and had a stupidly unfair ability to heal wounds dealt to him. Hence the confusion as to whether he was dead or not. He’d told them of Jake Costa who Nick remembered all too well from their encounter in the Carcaradis Island jail, the bounty had been placed on him at a paltry hundred thousand credits.

  Then there was Harvey Rocastle, Caldwell had informed them he’d been instrumental in recruiting callers disillusioned with the current state of the competition to the Coppinger side of the coming conflict. He told how they’d been subject to conditioning, trained, battle hardened to ensure that they were of maximum use. Unfortunately, he’d been unable to provide a complete list of names but had told them that Weronika Saarth and Reda Ulikku were on the list. Nick had felt a brief sensation of vindication at being proved right. Most of the names were ones he’d already pulled out in his investigation. New ones would be good but being proved right wasn’t to be sniffed at. It was the small victories that made all the difference.

  Rocastle’s bounty held at fifty thousand, on top of the twenty thousand that was already set out for him for escaping Unisco custody. He’d also named Doctor Dale Sinkins for them, a bounty listed at the same number as for Rocastle, fifty thousand. A preposterous amount for someone whose role had been research at most, still that was their choice. That was what taxes paid for apparently these days. Pay for us to hunt your enemies. And by your enemies, we mean our enemies. The final name on the list, Nick noticed was one Wim Carson. He couldn’t find it in his heart anywhere to agree with the bounty posted for him. Fifty thousand for him was massively undervaluing him. Caldwell had made him out to be some sort of guru slash advisor who Coppinger had plucked out of obscurity and kept his value to her secret. Even from her brother. A shrewd decision it would appear on her part. Nick wasn’t convinced as to the ease of the kill. He’d faced down Carson, he’d fought him and with that laser sword of his, he’d not just survived, he’d come out the better. If that girl hadn’t appeared, he’d have been dead. No doubt. It wouldn’t be some amateur bounty hunter who dealt with him. That bounty would go up and up and up, it’d either be someone like him or someone immensely lucky.

  “Makes your mouth water, huh?” Noorland said. “Makes you wish we’d all gone private before this whole thing, huh?”

  “It’s not too late,” Fagan said. “Reckon we can still form our own mercenary company, go after them and share the profits.”

  “Not worth it,” Leclerc said quickly. “Unless you want to hit Coppinger or Mazoud. Rest of them split fifteen ways wouldn’t be worth getting out of bed for.”

  “Fifteen of us could hit Mazoud easy,” Derenko mused dreamily. “Eight hundred grand, fifteen ways… Just over fifty thousand each. Not bad for a morning’s work.”

  “Nice to see what sort of loyalty we have from our agents when the times get tough,” Brendan said sarcastically. The room went silent, an ugly undertone to the quiet. He might just have crossed the line with his joke, even Arnholt and Crumley glared at him. Only Nkolou and Navarro, the two captured pilots remained unmoved by it, Nick noticed. They’d been kept around for now, they were down numbers after Harper had been killed in action and still minus Wade and despite their rustiness in field action, they’d survived the enemy camp for a good few weeks. They had information, potentially. They would be useful. They’d already proven themselves heroes in what was now being dubbed the Battle of Red Sky by the media after the explosions had stained the sky temporary shades of red and orange. It hadn’t been easy to miss; everyone had been forming their theories as to what happened. Catarzi confirming it was the best thing possible given some of the rumours.

  “Just a thought, Chief,” Fagan said. “We’re all on the same page here.” Maybe because he was feeling ire at the suggestion, he also added, “as if you have to ask.” Brendan let it go, even with the hint of challenge in the words. Maybe it was just Fagan’s accent. Everything sounded like it was bordering on insubordination at times. When he was annoyed, it sounded like he was about to set off on outright mutiny.

  “I know it’s a terrible situation,” Arnholt said. “But hey, we all know the score. We know nobody on our side is going to come out a winner in this. We might have to do terrible things and live with the consequences.” He sighed sorrowfully. “Can’t do anything about it. Goes with the job I’m afraid. This is the greatest catastrophe to hit our lives, certainly our working careers. We need to step up or be stepped on. Sad truth I’m afraid to say. Everyone here is needed to be ready, willing and able to do what needs to be done. I’m told the Senate is voting to relax our regulations, maybe even restructure the organisation for times of crisis.”

  �
�Fuck me!” Nick said aloud. “It must be bad then.” His reaction brought a few titters from the group, mainly Leclerc and Fagan, Arnholt rolled his eyes. Brendan looked like he wanted to say something but bit down on it. His jaw muscles must have been aching badly, Nick noted, the Field Chief had a face like it was hewn from stone.

  “And it has been dutifully summed up by Agent Roper there and then,” Arnholt said. “Relaxing the rules that we must follow to do our jobs to an efficient standard of enforcement. To say the least, it would appear they are desperate for a quick resolution. They have apparently arrived at the conclusion the ends justify the means. The reality is so very different. I don’t have to tell you what a delicate situation this could turn into.”

  “I don’t follow, sir,” Alex Nkolou said, piping up for the first time. “If the regulations are relaxed, then surely that’s a good thing. We can do our jobs easier…”

  “And it’s a can of worms,” Pree Khan replied to her. She’d shown back up not too long ago, unwilling to talk about how she’d gotten back. “Where’s the line? If we don’t know where it is, how the hells can we avoid crossing it? Your view is what the Senate believe, if suddenly we don’t have to follow their regulations and can trample roughshod over whoever the hells we want, we’ll have the job done in five minutes. It’s not that simple…” She paused suddenly, aware of the look Arnholt was giving her. “Sorry, Director.”

  “Oh please, go on,” Arnholt said. “You’re putting it very succinctly. Don’t interrupt me next time, Agent Khan.”

  “Apologies,” Khan said. “Anyway, the reality is different to what the Senate believes will happen. Think about it. Claudia Coppinger is fighting a war based on change, correct me if I’m wrong, Agent Caldwell. She wants to go out with the old, bring in the new and she has to tear down that old before she can build on top of it.”