Raw Justice

by Martyn J. Pass

  We looked down some more and watched people checking in and out of the hotel. The place was busy and we noticed a couple of Argo's Marines leaving with women in tow and not the kind that sail on Navy vessels either.

  “If we're having a big-brother talk,” I said. “What about Sargon.”

  “What about it?”

  “You know full-well what.”

  “You get their names yet?”

  “Eldritch sent them to me last night. I didn't see the need to spoil your evening with them.”

  “So spoil my morning instead.”

  “Anne Harrow and Marcus Block. They didn't know each other, just happened to be leaving the store when they heard the gunfire.”

  He nodded very slowly and repeated their names to himself, no doubt memorizing them. I said nothing.

  “Unfortunate,” he murmured, rubbing his hands together slowly. I waited. Then he spoke. “Wrong place, wrong time. I didn't intend to kill them. I can live with that.” I nodded.

  “Now would be a good time to tell you to keep your hands off my sister,” I said. He didn't turn to look at me but I could see his grin.

  “Might be too late for that,” he said. Then, pushing himself off the rail, he began walking back to his room.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I called after him but he was gone. I went back to my room even more confused than I had been before. A message had just arrived telling me that the Hikane was ready to sail. After breakfast, I thought and left.

  When we returned to dry-dock and to the Hikane, we found Argo's Intelligence officer waiting for us, seated on a pile of crates like it was the most normal thing in the world. He was dressed in civilian clothes but still managed to appear shifty; his implanted eye flashed back and forth and his beard was still unruly. He saw us and grinned.

  “It's all been arranged,” he said, standing up. Out of his pocket, he drew a data block. “Don't examine it, don't open it and don't even think of copying it.” He passed it to me. “Contained within is the bait that even Corano couldn't resist if he tried. It's bought two of you a guided tour of the facility in three days from now. The rest is up to you.”

  “So we give this to him, no questions asked?” I said.

  “He'll pay you for it, very handsomely I might add. It will go into an account that has already been arranged so don't worry about handling dirty credits; it will go towards furthering Earth Government's aims and objectives elsewhere blah blah blah.”

  “Blah blah blah?” I mimicked.

  “Yes. It means that you don't need to concern yourself with the minor details. When, or should I say if you manage to succeed, I would very much appreciate that data block back – intact.”

  “So that's it?” asked Mason. “Argo just sails home and leaves us to it?”

  “Well it's not like we can divert the entire fleet to assist you now, is it? How would that look back on the desk of the Lord Admiral himself?” He sniggered and began to walk away. “But as they say, help often comes unlooked for. Good luck, gentlemen. Until next time.”

  We watched him go and turned our attention back to the ship which was now open to us, the barriers having been pulled back to allow access. Baz, loaded down with shopping bags, shuffled up the ramp and kicked open the door.

  “Home sweet home,” he said, then openly and very loudly, swore. “Holy shit!”

  I followed him in and there, standing in the corridor with grinning faces, were Grant, Fara and Sam Columbine.

  “Long time no see,” I said and stepped forward to shake their hands. “Has it only been a few months?”

  “Maybe more,” laughed Fara. “Feels like a lifetime.” The two veterans of Perseus IV looked pleased to see us but maybe not as pleased as I was. Since Golan IV I hadn't really thought about them and when they'd hitched a ride home aboard the Agamemnon I'd expected them to vanish into the past. I guess that with so much that had happened to us since then I'd begun to feel that more time had passed than actually had. For them, they were still riding the train back home.

  “Mr. Columbine,” I smiled. “I hope you haven't drawn all over this ship while you were waiting.”

  “No sir,” he grinned, still looking boyish and charming. “But I heard about Angel and demanded that we get a chance to help her out. Plus it's been a hell of a boring trip so far. Being almost killed by ship-to-ship action turned out to be quite frustrating.”

  “I can imagine,” I said. “So you want in on this crazy scheme?” I asked the three of them. They nodded.

  “Our suits and gear are already loaded,” said Grant. “Ready to sail when you are.”

  “How much is it going to cost us?” asked Baz.

  “Oh a few credits,” grinned Fara. “And a ride home of course.”

  “Looks like we have a team,” Mason said to me. “Now we just need some gear.”

  25

  The first stage of the assault was to gather Intel. That would mean making sure we met with Corano and, if things went well, go on the tour of the facility. From there we could build a layout of the place and make the necessary alterations to our plan. It would mean going in without tech, without weapons and having to rely on our memories to map the place out when we returned to the ship. That wasn't my strongest skill and I said as much to Mason.

  “What about taking Columbine?” I suggested. “He's an artist. Surely memorising what things look like is one of his specialities?”

  “I'll talk to him,” he said as we sat on the bridge, our journey to Remus IV underway. “Did you speak to Aleksei?”

  “I did,” I replied. “He's worried about using evidence acquired in such a heavy-handed way.”

  “If it comes from Argo's creepy intelligence officer it'll carry enough authority.”

  “I told him that. It didn't seem to make him any more confident though.”

  I looked at the readouts and saw that we'd make the appointment on time. It was eating into our remaining days and I wondered if at the end of it all we'd have enough time to make it back to Titan 5 to keep our absence a secret. The information would travel much faster than we could but, I supposed, as long as Aleksei got what he needed, then our punishment would seem light compared to dodging the executioner's block.

  “I made contact with Mozzy's dealer. Right after we finish at Remus IV we need to waste no time heading there. I've flashed our credits her way and-”

  “Her?”

  “Yeah. Madam Sill, arms-dealer extraordinaire,” he said. “Has a reputation in these parts for holding a lot of stock.”

  “The kind we need?”

  “And then some. Plenty of legal and illegal items mind you so keep your head down when we go shopping. The way we've gone about this it's going to take some serious legal muscle to keep us from facing criminal charges if we ever get caught.”

  “Let's not get caught then,” I said. I let out a sigh and sat back in my chair, spinning once on the mechanism. “Corano.”

  “Yeah?”

  “David Argo. Doesn't that sound a little weird to you?”

  “Sure,” said Mason. “But why would he lie about it?”

  “Do you think Mr. Beard knew?”

  “Who?”

  “Intelligence.” He nodded.

  “Do you think Captain Argo knows that Mr. Beard knows that he knows?”

  “Exactly. Let me hit you with this hypothetical scenario.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Coffee first?”

  “Sure.”

  I got up and went over to the machine, tapping in our orders and waited for them to dispense. “Imagine that Corano – aka Argo number three is there at the vault when we hit it. We take him prisoner, take him off the planet with us. Then what?”

  “Other than an absolutely ridiculous series of chance events occurring, say this did happen. So what? Why take him back at all? Why not simply shoot him there and then and do Remus IV a favour?”

  “He could stand trial.”

  “Why do you ca
re? What good will that do the world? I'm all for making a difference but what possible good would that serve other than to cause a rift between Papa Argo and his beloved son? Do we need Argo on our side or not?”

  “Good point.”

  “You know how I feel about loose ends,” he went on as I passed him his cup. “We tie them or they come loose again. Don't forget that chances are he was the one who dispatched Death Squad units to kill Mozzy and his team and, subsequently, us. If I see him in combat I'm going to end him, it's that simple.”

  I nodded and sat back down. He was right to a point but some part of me looked beyond our immediate concerns and saw a fraction of the bigger picture. Why had Admiral Argo turned back after chasing him for so long? Why hadn't anyone done anything to end Corano's reign of bloodshed on Remus IV? Opho was deadly yet Earth Gov. didn't seem to give a shit. Lots of questions. No answers.

  “You'd better get into civilian clothes,” I said, still thinking. “We're a couple of hours away and we'll be in scanner range in half that. Did Baz manage to stow all the gear in the hold like I asked him to?”

  “Yeah. I'll go see to Columbine as well. I'm sure he'll love this kind of mission.”

  “Tell him if he wants a ride home he'd better do a good job. We're counting on him.”

  Remus IV appeared on the screen like a frozen ball of white on a tableau of black. It reminded me of a jewellers cloth, displaying some obscure diamond from a forgotten mine in the depths of Sinavon. Part of the city radiated heat whilst the other seemed subject to the sub-zero temperatures Mozzy had told us about. Looking at it on the viewer I felt a shudder of memory, remembering where we'd been only a month or so earlier.

  “We're good to go,” said Mason over the comms as we docked with the orbital platform stationed above the planet. “See you in a few.”

  “Be safe, man,” I replied and felt my guts churn. I wanted to be down there overseeing the operation but I had to step aside for this one. Columbine was the right man for the job and Mason had an eye for the needs of a fighting force. They were the two best men for the job and I had to accept that. All I could do was make sure that the platform didn't try to scan beyond the recognised limits of intergalactic law and discover our exo-shells in the hold.

  The bridge was empty. Baz, Fara and Grant were running simulation drills with Mozzy, trying to coax him back into shape. A few years on Sargon had softened the fighter and he needed to remember what his former training had given him. Baz knew his drills and I was happy that he was willing to oversee that task for me.

  Behind me, the door slid open with a gentle hiss and I turned around. Jo stood there, overalls around her waist and a smile on her lips. She carried a bottle in her hand and a couple of glasses.

  “Thought you might need a break,” she said. “You've been sat there since we left Indigo-Six.”

  “I snatched a few hours between shifts,” I replied. “But yeah, I'd be happy to have a drink.”

  She poured two generous measures and sat down in the weapon's seat, handing me one. We clinked and drank.

  “You do realise you're an enabler to my drinking habit,” I said with a smile.

  “I know you,” she grinned. “You wouldn't have had a drop since that night in the hotel and now we're here, waiting for Mason and Columbine to do their thing, you're feeling left out. You wanted to be down there, right?” I nodded. “But you can't. You're a good leader who knows the strengths of his team and your own weaknesses. Right now you just need help sitting back, relaxing, and letting your team get the job done. Am I somewhere near the mark?”

  “Will you marry me?” I laughed. She raised her glass.

  “So relax, Carter. Talk to me.”

  “About what?”

  “You weren't always like this,” she said. “What makes a man fight the Martian war, then go into private response work and continue fighting without obvious PTSD?”

  “I can't help it,” I said. “I love lost causes.”

  “I'm being serious.”

  “I know,” I smiled. “And I'm grateful for that.” I drained my glass and offered it to her. She poured again. “But if you're looking for a sob-story about how I wanted to fight evil in the world and be the hero then I'm going to have to disappoint you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it's very simple, really. Before Mars, I didn't know what I wanted to do. We were poor, we had nothing and no hope of breaking free of that. Mum and Dad did their best but life was what it was, there was no changing it. My big sister decided she'd go into admin, working for a local chain-store when the Martians decided that independence was something they could pull off. Within days of Kumar's assassination, Alice had signed up and headed straight into the logistics corps.”

  “Did that bother you?” she asked.

  “Not at first. Dad and I both read the feeds, we knew the war was coming and we saw that with the poor number of recruits available they'd offer some kind of welfare eventually. Better to sign up the moment it did before the best spots were taken and the drafts were made. Meanwhile, talks continued and Alice found herself writing home with tales of boredom and inactivity.”

  “But...?”

  “But things escalated if you know your history. Pretty soon more ships were being built, more soldiers recruited and Dad saw that the time had come. I signed up. After that everyone was doing it to escape the poverty and with the promise of welfare Dad had seen coming it was a no-brainer.”

  “So you went,” she said. “Is that where you met Mason?”

  “Yeah. I passed out of basic and applied for Armoured Infantry, the division most likely to be issued with exo-shells and thus the one with the best chances of surviving. The rest, as they say, is history.”

  “That it?”

  I tilted my head and said nothing, emptying my glass. She hadn't touched her second.

  “It's raw, isn't it?” she asked. I nodded. “Not just Mars.”

  “No.”

  “Does it help to talk to me about it or does that just make it worse?”

  “I don't know yet. A woman who comes with vodka is already at an advantage.”

  She got up and came closer, running her hands over my cheek as she sat down on the floor and looked up at me. She refilled my glass.

  “I'm an engineer,” she said.

  “I noticed.”

  “I fix things. I have a leaning towards fixing things, it's what I do. Right now I want to fix you but that's wrong, that's not what you need. On the other hand, I might not have fought in the wars that you've fought but I've been through shit I don't know how to process. We all have. Baz. Mozzy. Mason. Angel. But with you and me, I think we have something I want to get my hands on, to work at, to see if we can bring something out of all this bloodshed and mayhem. I can't do that on my own, Carter. I need your help.”

  I looked at her, sat there, staring up at me with those eyes that wouldn't let me go, wouldn't let me wriggle out of her embrace. Mason had been right – if no one ever made the first move I'd just stay where I was, going from one conflict to another, never really moving on deep down.

  “Why?” I said, finding my throat tight and constricted.

  “I don't know,” she replied. “I really don't know. But here we are, about to go to war against a drug lord and all I can think about is us. Go figure.”

  I offered my glass and we clinked again. She shook her head and drained hers, pouring us both another.

  “Our relationship is doomed if every time we meet we drink like this,” I laughed.

  “It seems like the only way to bring our walls down,” she said. “Mine are ten metres high and made from triton-steel. What about yours?”

  “Something similar.”

  I got out of my chair and sat on the floor beside her, leaning against the console for support. Jo tucked herself under my arm and rested her head against my chest. I could smell the engine grease in her hair and the strong odour of ground metal. It made me smile.

  “I think
I'm falling for you,” I whispered into her ear. She put her hand on my knee and squeezed.

  “I fell for you long ago,” she replied. “I just hoped we'd meet each other on the way down.”

  26

  “We're on.”

  Mason and Columbine walked up the ramp, those words echoing in my ears as the Hikane's engines thrummed into life, authorised now to leave the platform when we were ready. Baz gave the order and the ship pulled away, plotting a course at high speed for Madam Sill's floating warehouse in Alpha-Six.

  “Get to the conference room,” I said. “Start drawing.”

  When we were underway I gathered everyone into the biggest room on the ship that we hadn't yet had a chance to use and waited for Columbine to finish sketching out the map. I was glad to find Mozzy well again, looking like his normal self and wearing combat fatigues bought at Indigo-Six. Thor joined us but Jimmy remained in secret for now in the engine room.

  “How are you doing?” I asked the bot when he stomped into the room.

  “Bloody marvellous, sir,” he bellowed. “Cheers for pullin' me off that street, sir. Haven' 'ad a chance to fank you until now.”

  “Don't mention it,” I replied. “I'm just glad we all made it off there.”

  “I'm workin' on me next project, sir. Ready for the heist. I guess we're puttin' the gang back together for one more job, right?”

  “Something like that, Thor.”

  I turned to Mozzy who was watching Columbine work. The two had hit it off straight away, having shared a few friends in the PRT circles.

  “How is it looking?” I asked, leaning over his shoulder.

  “Nearly done,” said Columbine. “Just a few more details I need to pin down.

  Mason came over and pulled me to one side out of earshot of the others.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “It's him,” he said.

  “What? Argo?”

  “The same. You can't mistake the family resemblance, pal. Nice guy really. Not what you'd expect from a criminal Kingpin.”

  “I'm glad you like him,” I said with words soaked in sarcasm. “How about the facility?”