Raw Justice

by Martyn J. Pass

“Maybe.”

  Eldritch sat in his recliner, his feet up, appearing not to listen. Maybe he wasn't. It seemed like either option held little sway over him.

  “Well?”

  Mozzy chewed the whole thing over with deliberate ease, stringing out the process in the hopes of making us sweat or perhaps just get us irritable. It was working. Eventually, he spoke.

  “Okay, here's my thinking on this. I know what you're after and I think I might know where to find it. If I were to give it to you, it could get your friend off and not have to involve me in any kind of long-term imprisonment. I have some... resources set aside. I could vanish from Sargon and never bother you again.”

  “You've gotten over Shana pretty quick,” said Mason.

  “Hard credits helped,” he replied. “Well? Can we do something here or what?”

  “Give me a taste,” I said. “What can you offer?”

  “You're not going to like it.”

  “Try us.”

  He clucked his tongue. The whole charade was boring the living crap out of me and I began to reconsider my stance on torture. My wrist was drawing most of my patience away and I shot a glare at Eldritch who was looking out of the window like a cat does, bored and impassive. Where was this Freya?

  “The boss wasn't stupid,” he said in the end.

  “Boss?”

  “Lieutenant Seb Marks, our CO.”

  “Right.”

  “He was used to this kind of secret-agent bullshit. He was old-school-Commando, saw action in Hong Kong during the civil war, stayed behind enemy lines for three years on Sanpo and even claims he was running guns to Al Holland's forces during Ang '68. When Bourmont approached us the first time, long before the fall of Mars Prime, Seb said we should be recording the details of our ops and storing them on encrypted data blocks as insurance. We did and he sent them away.”

  “Where?”

  “To a secure location only he knew – until he found himself bleeding out after a sale went south last year. Then he made the smart decision to confide in me.”

  Now a smug grin passed over his face as he sat back a little more and sipped his coffee.

  “Nice try,” I said. “But I'm not buying it.”

  “Really?” He smirked. “Risky way to proceed, pal.”

  “No, I don't think so.”

  Suddenly there was a chime from behind and Mozzy visibly jumped where he sat, confirming a suspicion I had. Eldritch got up out of his chair.

  “Freya,” he said.

  “About time,” I whispered under my breath. A large woman carrying a silver medical case bustled into the room, huffing and puffing with cheeks a rosy red color to offset her short, curly blonde hair.

  “You could've told me the elevator was not...” she tried to say but her words were poor English with a thick, syrupy Morvo accent. “Vorking?”

  “Adastma,” replied Eldritch in her own tongue. “Sini est mogaza. Me amoras.” He gestured to my wrist. “Sima cor duest mon ma ma.”

  “Ma ma?”

  “Sini.”

  The woman shook her head and beads of sweat flew away. Then she came waddling over to me, clamping one pudgy fingered hand on my forearm and leaning in for a closer look.

  “Poor poor man,” she cooed. “Very sore. I see this. Very hurt, right?”

  “Right,” I said.

  “Fix this. Fix good.”

  She opened the case and spent several minutes running strange pieces of flashing equipment over my wrist with no visible effect. Then, talking to herself in her unintelligible dialect, she took hold of my arm in both hands, holding the joint between them and smiled at me.

  “Safa est mo,” she grinned. “Da... Des... GA!”

  There was a loud crack and I screamed in pain as she yanked my hand almost entirely off the end of my arm. Then, with deft skill, she released me and wrapped a new insta-cast around the joint which felt lighter and even more flexible than my own had been. I could actually use the wrist with little or no pain.

  “What did you do?” I cried, rubbing the spot. She was already gathering up her tools and packing them back into the case.

  “Bodo fa,” she laughed. “You sissy. You not break. Girly-girl. I fix silly man.”

  “Bada fee,” said Eldritch as she bustled away again towards the door. “Moto fete hist.”

  “Moto. Bon amas, Malcolm,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Afat ben.”

  “Afat.”

  I looked at Mason who'd taken a sudden interest in the toe of his boot. Mozzy was chuckling to himself. When the door was shut, I cleared my throat.

  “Can we get back to what really matters now?”

  17

  He was right. I didn't like it. Mozzy took us through the whole deal from start to finish only leaving out the precise locations involved and the people he knew he'd need once he was free from us. I didn't mind that; I wasn't here to bring justice to the galaxy – just to get what I needed to free Angel.

  “So you have access to this place?” asked Mason as the dawn crept up behind the endless procession of rain clouds outside the window.

  “Not directly,” said Mozzy. “But I have the system, the planet and the precise location of the place and without it I promise you, you'll never find it.”

  “Of course you're not going to reveal that until you're guaranteed an escape, right?” He nodded. “And this underground fortress-”

  “Vault. It's a vault. Heavily guarded and impossible to crack open with a few plasma pistols and a bot,” he smirked. “But that's not my problem.”

  “Maybe we just hand you over to Argo and let him deal with it.”

  “It's on a Commonwealth planet in a Commonwealth system controlled by a warlord the likes of which you've never met before. I doubt he'd have the balls or the jurisdiction to act.”

  “That narrows it down,” Mason pointed out.

  “Sure. Maybe you figure it out. But the exact location? This place is a secured vault for some of the galaxy's major criminal elements. In there you've got gold, precious jewels, hard copy documents and some of the most damaging Intel on Earth Gov. you've never seen. Do you think they leave the lights on?” He shook his head. “You need me. All I ask is that you let me go when our business is concluded.”

  “How can we trust you?” I asked.

  “I'm a criminal, okay, I get that. But once we served together on Mars. That shit doesn't go away. You can trust me. Semper-fucking-fi.”

  “And everything we need to take Bourmont down is in that vault?” I asked. Another nod. I looked at Mason. “Well?”

  “He's got a point,” he said. “We give him to Argo and he talks, then what? He and Angel go down together. But if we have some hard evidence, maybe a little extra dirt on top, maybe we stand a chance of getting her off.”

  “And me!” he cried. “I'm not going down as a traitor, no way. We were only doing our job. That scum-bag Bourmont is the traitor.”

  I thought it over. I was tired and my wrist, though improved, was still aching. I needed rest and, more importantly, I wanted a way forward.

  “So we take you with us,” I said. “We get you off-world. You'll take us to this planet? Tell us where the vault is? Then what?”

  “You seem reasonable,” he said. “I heard about the Aurelius. Was it you?” I nodded. “Thought so. Maybe you're the good guys in all this, I don't know. I reckon I can trust you to drop me off once you've got what you need.”

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere. I'm done. My team is gone and I don't have the strength to start over again. Just find me a planet with a non-extradition clause and I'll vanish, maybe become a farmer or something.”

  “Are you okay with that?” I asked, looking at Eldritch. He shrugged.

  “Sure. On the condition that he reveals the location of his stash and contacts so I can close up his operation. Then I'll happily forget I ever met him.”

  “Sounds fair,” said Mozzy. Then, getting up, he smiled. “Now for the next problem.” />
  “Which is?”

  “They're coming for me. We have about ten minutes.”

  I should have realized earlier that our time on Sargon had gone much too well. The tails that had picked us up after we'd landed had indeed been with a third party, someone with their own interests in Bourmont's former Ops team. Now they were coming and why? Mozzy explained as we got ready to leave.

  “The discs are empathic links, kind of like a group sensory experience thing. We'd never seen anything like them before but they were cheap and we didn't ask many questions.”

  “Always a good idea,” grumbled Mason.

  “They made us fight better, closer, like we were all thinking the same thing.”

  “And?”

  “And we never realized they could be used against us – until now. I just felt an unknown presence link in. It knows where I am and I don't have a clue who or what it is.”

  “But you know it's coming?”

  “I feel it anticipating the attack. It's close. We've been holding off assaults for years now but the last one was the worst. They'd hired Death Squad units out of the Commonwealth, you know? Those synthetic-killer types that are swell at parties. 'Like, hi, what do you do? Oh, synthetic-killer-gun-for-hire? Sounds cool.' Those types.”

  “Can you pull it out?” I asked. “Preferably before they find us?”

  “No. Not without surgery.”

  Eldritch waited by the door, ready to go. I shook my head.

  “You've done more than enough, Malcolm,” I said. “This isn't your fight.”

  “Maybe I want it to be,” he replied.

  “We're going to make a run for the shuttle back to our ship. There's no point risking your life for this. Call in the shock squad and wait for them to arrive once we've gone. I'll be in touch as soon as we reach our ship.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “I'm sure,” I replied, smiling. I held out my hand. “You've been a massive help. But this is our work now, this is what we do.”

  “What, make carnage?” he laughed and we shook.

  “Kind of. I'd like to give your name to my sister, have you on the books. There have been many times when a damn good investigator would have turned a mission in a better direction. Would you be willing to work for us now and again?”

  “It'd be a pleasure,” he grinned but behind that smile, the bitter pain still lingered. It might never leave him, but maybe that was his edge. “Take care, Carter. And you, Mason.”

  “Time to run,” I said. “Goodbye, Malcolm.”

  “Goodbye.”

  And with that, we descended to the ground floor, checked the front exit, and sped out into the dawn light.

  The shuttle pad was too far to walk so we risked a cab. Traffic was light and although my instincts screamed at me to avoid being fish in the proverbial barrel, we had little choice. No sooner had we sat down than I gave the order for Thor to activate his arm cannon and both Mason and I drew our pistols. The rifle's we'd taken before were too obvious to carry in the streets and so we'd left them behind.

  “Guess you don't have a spare for me then?” said Mozzy. Mason shook his head.

  “You know the drill. When we get out just keep moving towards the platform. We have to get on that shuttle without being stopped by either them or the PD.”

  I tapped my comms once we were clear of Eldritch's apartment and called up Baz.

  “Aye,” he said, coming online. “What's up?”

  “Sitrep,” I barked. He visibly stiffened.

  “The buffer is working and the ship is ready to fly. What's going on?”

  “We're coming in hot with a VIP,” I explained. “Looks like we're going to have to fight our way to the shuttle. I want the ship fired up and ready to leave. Get on with authorizing our departure with the station coordinator.”

  “ETA?”

  “Thirty minutes, maybe more.”

  “Understood.”

  I signed off, confident that he'd get things ready for us. My stomach tried to knot itself up but I held it back, forcing reserves of adrenaline into my system.

  “If they've been tracking us then they know where we're going,” said Mason. “If they can't stop us then they'll try to take him out.”

  “I know.”

  Taking off his shield generator, Mason leaned over and fastened it onto Mozzy's belt. I did the same, doubling the efficacy of the devices.

  “Gee, does this mean we're kind of married, fellas?” he laughed but the sound was empty and hollow; he was as nervous as we were.

  “Sirs,” said Thor. “I 'ave a problem, sirs.” The bot was looking at his arm cannon, still in its collapsed form but not quite a hand either. There were impact burns around the elbow servos where a stray shot had struck it.

  “It won't activate for me, sirs,” he said.

  Mason leaned over, trying to force the plates apart with his bare hands but none would give.

  “It was working before,” I said.

  “I'm experiencing a couple of system failures, sir. I fink me brain is takin' a nap or somefink.”

  “Detach it,” said Mason. “Give it to me.”

  “I'll try, Mr. Mason.” The plates whined and screeched as they slid across each other until the entire unit dropped into his arms.

  “What are you going to do with that?” I asked. He cracked open the connection port and began yanking wires out, splicing some and re-routing others back inside. I kept an eye on the streets as the cab slowed for upcoming traffic but, thankfully, didn't stop.

  “Have you got a C3 interface node?” he asked the bot.

  “Aye, sir. Give me a mo.” There was more clattering of parts and a fraction of his chest plates parted, revealing a small square of plastic. Mason took it and connected it to the exposed wires.

  “A 556-22B regulator conduit?”

  “Yessir, but that will make my long-distance comms useless, sir,”

  “We won't be needing them,” he replied. Thor complied and with the final piece he reattached all the connections and turned the cannon over in his arms. Holding it like a long tube, he was now able to fire the weapon from his hip and already it was thrumming itself into life. He handed his pistol to Mozzy.

  “You even think about stabbing us in the back and I'll vaporize you with this,” he said. The former soldier nodded.

  “I'm starting to like you guys,” he grinned. “Makes me think I joined the wrong team.”

  “You did,” I snapped seeing movement on the rain-slicked pavements to our left. Three figures moving against the flow of people traffic, heading straight towards us. “Get ready.”

  We were maybe four clicks from the landing pad and between us and the shuttle was the entire commercial district of the city which, even at this early morning hour, was thronged with civilians. I felt a tightness in my throat as the cab ground to a halt in a long line of stationary vehicles. So much for Sargon traffic reports.

  “Eyes on three tangos,” I said, getting out of my seat and crouching by the door.

  “Three more on my side,” said Mozzy. “What do we do?”

  “Go left,” said Mason. “Let me out first, then follow.”

  I held the door handle and looked. The three coming towards us were wrapped in long black coats, hoods down revealing heads with tightly cropped hair and ventilator masks covering the lower halves of their faces. Pairs of cold onyx orbs flashed in the neon from their eye sockets as they bore down on our position. Death Squad.

  “Well that's not good,” I said. Mason saw the same thing.

  “It's always a bright day when synthetic killers show up,” he said with dry mirth. “Someone really does want us dead.”

  “Go loud,” I said, throwing open the door and knocking a passer-by to the ground as I did so. Mason leaped from the cab, the cannon charged and I followed, heading for the stone front of the nearest store.

  “GET DOWN!” he roared as people began screaming. Then the cannon fired and the world came tumbling down
around us.

  18

  I threw myself into cover just as the burst of automatic laser fire tore into the brickwork beside me. Dust and shards flew past me and another barrage slammed into the window behind, shattering it into a million pieces. Suddenly the world became a whirling cacophony of screams and cries, of stuttering weapon fire and the great booming of Mason's cannon. My focus was now sharp and alert and time began to slow, second by bloody second as years of combat training kicked in.

  I dropped low and swung out, pistol already aimed and fired at the nearest target. His entire form staggered under the volley but a crackling shield generator bore the blast. He already had his Dingo SLG raised but the shots had thrown his aim and the burst ripped open a space above me. I felt a handful of sizzling stones drop onto my head, one managing to draw blood from my scalp.

  “Tango down!” cried Mason as one of the three vanished in an explosion of bright blue plasma taking half an idling cab with it. The second responded with shots of his own, slamming into Mason's position behind a speeder but failing to find its target.

  “Three more on our six!” said Mozzy who began firing straight away. “This isn't going good, guys!”

  Thor was striding along the traffic, seemingly unable to draw any of their fire until he was on top of them. The three who'd approached on the right hadn't paid him any attention until his fist came slamming down on them, turning one into pulp. Then the carnage really began. Caring nothing for the civilian population, they opened fire indiscriminately, cutting a bloody swathe through anyone or anything between them and us. Dozens fell.

  Mason managed to drop the next with a well-aimed blast but in doing so he brought the storefront they were standing down on top of them and two bystanders. I saw the horror spread across his face but we had no time to count the cost, that would come later.

  “Secure that, soldier!” I roared over the gunfire now coming from the rear. “Tangos on our six!”

  He shook himself, turned and moved into a stronger position, thumbing the improvised controls of the cannon. Across from him, Thor had killed another but was now taking a lot of laser damage from the third who deftly avoided his swinging arm. Part of the bot's face was missing and one of his legs dragged behind him.