by Clay Moore
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One - Friends never Knock
Chapter Two - A Joint Mission
Chapter Three - Children of the Wind
Chapter Four - Night of the Mongoose
Chapter Five - The Art of Terror
Chapter Six - Brian and Kandi
Chapter Seven - A Lick of Kandi
Chapter Eight - In Bound
Chapter Nine - Hotel Clement
Chapter Ten - One Last Time
Chapter Eleven - A sunny day at Upton
Chapter Twelve - Texas Hold Up
Chapter Thirteen - Marking time
Chapter Fourteen - Completion
Chapter Fifteen - Faster, Faster, Must Go Faster
Chapter Sixteen - Debrief
Blank Page-1
Like the Book?
Blank Page-1
About the Author
GOLD RUSH
Clay Moore
Copyright © 2019 Clay Moore
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1798235140
ISBN-13: 9781798235140
For Suzanna Reeves
My goad
CHAPTER ONE
Friends never Knock
FIENDS NEVER KNOVK
Brian Butler watched the tell-tales on his panel. Once they went green, he knew that he was connected to shore services. Shore services was a name inherited from Old Earth Sea going craft. For his freighter that was fuel, atmosphere, and water. A green tell-tale indicated directly receiving that commodity.
Butler had a lot to do on this trip. He was put on to a group that needed any amount of lift ability. It seemed too good to be true. His freighter was light, but Brian Butler knew how to pack his cargo bay. He had managed to get two hundred tons of cargo in his starship rated at one hundred tons.
He went to the cockpit. He picked the communicator which connected into the system of the planet it was on. He dialed the numbers. The number rang once, and then it was answered.
“Techi Diaz.”
“I’m looking for Shed Gates.” He had received a message from the group looking for freighter pilots telling him to respond to the Techi Diaz question. This sounded like some intelligence division crap.
“Is your name Brian Butler?”
“Yes, what is this?” Brian was starting to smell a rat. It felt too much like a government bust. He just did not know what he had done.
“An offer that you will be crazy to refuse. You will be informed of this opportunity tomorrow.”
That was certainly unusual. It felt like some comic opera version of intelligence. Brian went throughout the ship making sure that all was secure. Then he ate some Foodbase and walked to the captain's cabin. He wondered what the morning entailed.
SURPRISE, SURPRISE.
The first inkling he had that someone was in the cabin with him was the sound of breathing. You can do a lot a bout everything, but everyone has to breath. He woke up completely. He now smelled Eruption, a male cologne. Then he tried to localize the sounds. He could see the outlines of two people. He could tell that the person in front of him was male. He decided that the man had to go. As quick as he could he kicked the man between his legs. The intruder explosively lost breath and made a deep grunting sound. The second person that he did not see stuck him with a needle. He did not remember much after that.
A few minutes later he was sitting in the power chair that was attached to his computer system. They had moved the chair out of the system and swiveled it to face the big empty space in the Captain’s cabin.
A woman was standing over Brian Butler. Her belt held a holster for a small frame handgun. Her blackout gear was Marine issue undersuit in black. That was how he could tell that the woman was indeed a woman. Undersuits fit next to the skin. There was a third man who sat in one of the free-standing chairs from the crew’s quarters on the other side of the ship.
“Is he okay,” asked the sitting man?
“He should be. I gave him a needle with a five-minute dose.”
“Then why is his head lolling about like a drunkard.” Brian tried to swing his head and hit the third person. All he got was laughter and “Ho, he is tricky. That is what the psych department said.”
“Do we really need him? The scope of your operations has been small. No need for another agent.”
“Not just any kind Agent. The second special agent.”
“Him? We got into his quarters well enough.”
“Tell that to 81 over there.”
81 was still holding himself.
“Why is 81 still crying. 81 didn’t have much to cry over,” said the woman agent. She and 81 must have had some history together.
The woman took a step too close to Brian. He was able to dig his fingers around the tendon behind the knee. She grunted and pulled her leg away from Brian’s grasp. She reached for her weapon but was restrained.
“Let me put an end to this.” He reached into a suit coat pocket and pulled out a real leather wallet. He opened the wallet and displayed his badge. Around the edge of the Star, it said Special Agent—Eridani Secret Service.
“Sorry about our bungled attempt to capture you. We should have known better,” said the Special Agent
“Capture me? Why?”
“You have a set of skills that you honed in the Eridani Marines. We would like to make use of those skills.”
“I know nothing about spying.”
“You are not going to be a spy. You are going to fill a position of trust. You are going to be a Special Agent, have enforcement options, clean up, perform executions, and a host of other missions. It will be a new thing every time you go out.”
“That sounds like an awful lot of power to be giving one person. Especially me.”
“It would be for any other person but you. You are my ace. The straight shooter who believes in Eridani. When you are on a ship we give you, you are about as free of an agent as any person can get. The only thing we ask is that you complete the mission assigned you.”
“What tools will I get?”
The man reached under his suit coat. He pulled out a small frame pistol that fired a .40 caliber caseless bullet. The careless ammunition allowed the round to contain a longer shot.
“That’s a toy.”
“The man worked the action. A round went flying. He picked up the bullet and held in front of Brian’s eyes.
Brian whistled. “You get hit by that, and you will know about it.”
“If you survive the hit,” said the man. “I think that we can dispense with the restraints 45.”
The woman came over and removed the cuffs. She stepped back expecting trouble and not getting it.
“How many missions have you done with the special agent?”
“Only the two. The last one, the previous Candidate, came back slightly worse for wear. I was allowed to recruit a second special agent from the approved list.”
“My name popped up to the top.”
“These men and women have built themselves a career in the Marines. You were the first civilian with experience in the marines. Your psych profile almost seems as if someone wrote it for us.”
“What things do you like?”
“Sense of honor and justice. Guardianship of the helpless. Attention to detail. There’s more. You are our best hope for the Second special Agent.”
What are some of the tools that I get to use?”
“Datasticks with programs on them that cut through most security software. Needles with an entire panoply of chemicals from soporifics, hallucinogenics, including interrogation drugs. For the gun are a stock and silencer. Your suits and tuxedos are tools of your trade. You will have a veritable warehouse full of surveilla
nce equipment.
“The one tool that makes you very mobile is a luxury personal starship. You have a bedroom, not a bunk. The bed is large to accommodate a friend if you choose. If you need there are four bunks, a dining room, full kitchen, and storage. You have a shower in your bathroom and enough water storage to last three weeks. The shower water reclamation system lengthens that water duration by an extra week. You have a garage with a grav-car and a grav-rod. The ship’s computer can access the vehicles and bring it to the cargo ramp.”
“That’s a lot of tools,” said Brian.
“You will learn all about them in the Special Agent class. Do you like the idea?”
“I like the idea, yes. Sorry about the blow to your nuts, 81.”
“Now we have to deal with your ship. It would be useful, nothing is more ubiquitous than a light freighter. We would pay a rental fee and maintain the ship with the best Techs in -the galaxy. Sound good.”
“You getting into the business of moving cargo.”
“Nope, just our own cargo. Sometimes we need to smuggle in our tools under their noses. Light freighters are so obvious that they are hardly noticed.”
“Let’s take him to Henderson Island.”
FOX HUNT
Brian Butler absolutely loved the training camp and its regimen. The first day that he arrived he was taken to his room. They left him alone in his room all night. Then they came and gave him three uniforms and an exercise undersuit. They also gave him five books. They also gave him a Gi for a fourth Dan Hindjitsu master. He had enough time that he was able to put on the exercise gear. He instantly became a hit with some of the men and most of the women. He heard some tales told about the runs. The Secret Service believes that running every day made you fit. They were right. It did not do anything for your upper body strength which why he trained with weight gloves on in Hindjitsu Katas.
The one thing that incongruous was an exchange where you could buy some price advantaged goods. He went there about an hour till closing. There were a lot of consumer goods on the shelves. With the holidays upcoming there were more toys for sale than usual. There was nothing to buy for him, so he left for his quarters.
Brian Butler knew that he was the only person on his floor. He grabbed his toiletries kit. He started walking but was stopped by a tall, dark-skinned beauty wearing an exercise undersuit. Government-issued exercise clothing was all gray. The undersuit clung to every part of her body. Brian had a good idea of what she looked naked. That thought brought a smile to his lips.
“You think this is all funny?”
“Well in a way. If you are supposed to intimidate me, it did not work. If you intend to turn me on you succeeded.”
“Let’s take this to the showers, Scrub.”
“What?”
“Scrub is a probationary Special Agent. Easier to say scrub. Anyway in the showers.”
He watched her take off her clothes. From the rear, he could see the tigress. When she turned around, she was all female. Her muscle was hard and smooth. He could not trace the muscles. Unlike his own body which was all cut up. Every muscle could be outlined just about. The woman came to him.
“My name is Melanie Scott. I give you full permission to make love to me.”
She left him during his afterglow. He took his shower and returned to his bed. He woke up way before his need to be up. Everything about this training was wacky. He had a schedule for classes, but there was an hour to get from one classroom to another. Since he was the only student in all the classes, they started the course as soon as he walked in. It was etiquette, and formal dancing that was hard on Brian. Mrs. Silvan must have taught young ladies how to do their cotillions. She was terrific. She would bring in one of these society daughters to dance with a Gentlemen’s gentlemen. Brian danced with one of these ladies twice; her name was Rebecca Davenport. Her father was Mister Starport. Brian danced with the young lady. Then Mrs. Silvan arranged for Brian to get invited to the spring formal. It always was in the Ackerman Cow Palace. Brian decided to make a spectacular entrance. He rode in an assault shuttle. As Brian descended in the assault shuttle, Brian was leaning against a vertical pole smelling a small blue flower. When the door opened he put the bulb in a pin he wore on his tuxedo. Then Brian nonchalantly walked to the main entrance. He presented his holographic ticket. Then walked into the venue. Whoever was responsible for transforming the Cow Palace did an excellent job.
He hobnobbed with the upper crust. He explained that he worked for Pendit as Director for Sales. Every person that asked about his job seemed impressed by a fantasy Corporation whose whole job was to provide cover their Special Agent. Then he turned to see where the filly’s awaited a request for a dance. The first dance was necessary for this dance. Dance the first dance, and you mingle. The maestro of the orchestra announced a waltz Brian put a hand out to a young lady who had more body than was good for her. She looked surprised. As did everyone.
Brian deftly walked her to the dance floor. He grabbed her left hand and put his right hand on her hip. When the music started, Brian helped her begin by rocking one to the beat. When they had it, he took her through the steps. Pretty soon they had to watch out for the new dancers.
Brian could do this all night long. The second dance was a Frisk. Frisk was a slang term for a search of someone like a police officer. The dance was very suggestive. A gorgeous woman asked Brian He then asked how far did she wish. She told him that he should set the tone.
He took her to the center of the dance floor. They were about five feet apart. The music started, and they rushed into each other arms. Brian was running his hands on her back. He dipped down and squeezed her buttocks. He also was rubbing her front with his front. His Dance partner sat at Brian's table. Brian signed her Dance Card. She asked him to dance with him in the next dance.
Brian passed his etiquette and Dance class. He had a break before the second half classes, These classes were some of the most interesting. He learned how to use the hacking tools that were given to him on a chain. There wasn’t much to it. Insert into the computer let the code in the datastick do the work. The best tools they had made the universal keys. There were three keys; a platinum key, gold key, and a silver key. All electronic locks could be classed in one of three classes. The ranks ran down. Platinum opened everything, while gold and silver ran down from the color level and ran down.
Another of these one-day classes was pistols and submachine guns. †hey started every Special Agent on the personal tool. On occasion, A special Agent would get the chance to use a submachine gun on a mission. The class consisted of weapon familiarization, Open shoot range, and a hogan’s alley. He already was good with the handgun. The submachine was fun.
The first thing they had in the second half was was something called a competitive run. When it was announced, Brian thought that they were joking. The person he was competing against would start running. He was supposed to chase them and stop them. Then a woman instructor told him that all women agreed to sexual congress. You capture, get permission and have fun. The unofficial name of this run was a fox hunt.
The second half was a little more on topic. There was a class on interrogation techniques, Use of chemicals on the job, and Assassination techniques. Very interesting. There was a law course so that he could know he could do what when on Eridani and on other planets.
His first Foxhunt was a woman who looked like she was a runner. Later on, these were women who were members of an action squad. She thought she would turn him on. She pulled down her pants. She pulled them back up. Then took off on the starters tone. He waited. Then when the tone sounded for him, he took off in a whole different direction. He ran hard for thirty minutes. He ended up on the run path. There was nothing in the rules that said he had to stay on the road. She stopped when he appeared leaning against a path sign. She smiled at him. He did not have to do much convincing.
As a testing tool, the fox hunt was perfect. It helped with determining someone’s orientation. It also t
ested how people solved problems. Then the foxes rated their captor on the run and when they were captured.
Brian had completed his training. There was a tradition that every Special Agent had to perform. He had to kill someone. As a result of Judicial Action, someone was released to his house. This person had been assigned to be executed.
Brian was driven to the house by a Police Lieutenant. Lieutenant Felicity Danforth drove Brian in her squad grav-car. She kept on the ground. The drive was quiet. Brian had looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She was auburn haired. She wore lipstick, and it was expertly applied. Tonight she wore a white blouse top. She opened the collar and showed quite a bit of décolletage. He wondered if she dressed like this on her on duty hours. Then he caught a bare hint of Glamour. This was a high-end perfume. The kind she could afford on a lieutenant’s salary, maybe once year.
Brian looked at her a little longer than usual. It got her to say something.
“What are you doing?” asked Felicity
“I’m looking at a beautiful woman.”
“What are you doing?”
“I am telling you that you are a beautiful woman.”
“What gives you permission to do that.”
“When I arrived at your office this afternoon, You left for your Home. You showered, Shaved your legs. You put on a nice skirt with stockings. You are wearing a new blouse with five buttons unbuttoned. You are not wearing a brassiere. You are wearing just s small dab of Glamour.”
“Can you tell me if I am going to get lucky tonight.”
“The chance is a hundred percent unless you don’t like what I have to do tonight.”
“What are you doing?”
“I am executing Clement Allen for the murder of four women.”
Felicity hit the brakes which opened all of the braking vanes on her grav-car . She sat for a moment. “You have to do what?”
“I am carrying a duly signed death warrant as a result of his trial.”