Kaufman walked up to Lin who was crouched over Anders. The man was still flat on his back, his eyes were open, but his face was cut from shrapnel and he was very disorientated.
“Can you walk?” asked Kaufman.
“Yeah,” he faintly replied.
“Alright, Lin, help him to his feet, I want everyone back aboard the Intrepid immediately!”
They rushed back to their cars, almost dragging their dazed comrade. The three cruisers raced through the city in just as dangerous a way as they had arrived. Kaufman knew that it was likely to be too late to reach Marsau before the gang arrived, but there were no options left.
* * *
Diaz paced up and down the entry gate to the Marsau Spaceport, watching and studying every vehicle that passed through the security gates.
“How the hell are we supposed to find a gang when we don’t know what they look like or the vehicles they drive?” asked Laine.
“Just do what you can, don’t miss anything!”
Sergeant Diaz turned and walked to Davis who was standing at a workstation reviewing the recent news story and trying to gather further information on the gang’s identity.
“We need to start narrowing down the potential ships, we’re going to have a hard time identifying them at the gates.”
“What do you have in mind?” asked Davis.
“They may be entering in separate vehicles, but ultimately they will have to converge on one ship, and fast. Let’s change our focus to the docking bay. They will likely be using something fast and pretty small, something that stays under the radar. Get a list together of all ships under fifty metres, with less than twenty crew aboard and who have landed here within the last two weeks.”
“Will do.”
Davis tapped away at the touch screen, inputting the variables that Diaz had given him. It was less than a minute before they had a list before them.
“Now, there are eight ships which fit that description.”
“Show me.”
“Ok, two of them are courier vehicles for the government, one is a yacht belonging to a respectable businessman.”
Diaz struck them from the list by tapping the x button beside their names on the list. He looked through the remaining five ships individually.
“Right then, this vessel, it’s having a two month refit, it’s not going anywhere.”
“What about the rest?”
“They are all possible targets. Stay here and keep running through the data you’re getting from the crime scene. Laine, go to Docking Bay 22, Morel, Bay 53, Thompson, Bay 91, I’ll take 13b.”
“What are we looking for, boss?” asked Morel.
“Any sign of the gang, we’re trying to cut them off before they can leave, these are all potential ships that they could be using. Scope them out, keep an eye out for anything suspicious or meets the profile we have. Remember, this gang is very dangerous!”
“If any of these ships belong to the gang, going alone is a hell of a risk.” said Davis.
“We don’t have a choice, just be ready to move if anyone calls for support.”
Diaz got to a running pace. His WARB rifle was slung over his body and being carried in both hands, his IBI shield dangling from a cord around his neck. He ran into one of the railcars that ran along the length of the docking bay, speeding quickly towards his target. The doors opened just minutes later and he stepped out, three ships laid up before him. He shot a glance around the docking bay area, looking for the identifying numbers. The ship he was after lay directly in front of him. The garage docking bay door was open and he could see two vehicles parked inside but no sign of any crew.
Tightening his grip on the submachine gun that lay across his chest, Diaz approached the ship. It was maybe five years old, a typical high-speed space transport that was popular for a range of uses from quick travel between colonies, as well as research, and also pleasure, depending on how it was outfitted.
An elevator opened to his side and a group of three men and two women walked out into the docking area as they chatted and giggled among themselves, obviously heading for their ship in the next bay. A vehicle pulled into the bay and pulled up next to the ship he was approaching, two men got out, the driver approaching him.
“Can I help you, officer?” he asked.
The man had a shaved head, the only hair on his head being rough stubble. His face was gaunt and he looked suspicious from his appearance alone. The man wore a well-cut suit and thinly pointing shoes, he held himself in a confident manner and had no problem approaching Diaz.
“Sir, what have you got in the car?”
“Just our luggage.”
“Please open the trunk, Sir.”
“Officer, please, I am on a tight schedule, I have business associates to meet.”
“Sorry, Sir, open the trunk!”
A scream rang out from beside the ship. Diaz lifted his rifle as he shot a glance to the loading bay of the vessel. A man from within the ship had grabbed one of the women who was walking past and had a gun to her head.
“Officer,” said the bald man next to him.
“You are going to let us leave, or the woman dies!”
“What the hell are you doing?” shouted Diaz.
“We both know why you’re here, you can play this smart and everyone leaves in peace, or you can have blood on your hands!”
Before Diaz could answer, the doors to the railcar behind him opened and Davis stepped out with his pistol drawn.
“Hold your fire, Davis!” shouted Diaz.
The man before him grinned as stepped back into the vehicle and eased it into the hold of their ship. The two officers stood with their weapons trained on the man who was holding the civilian at gunpoint. The engine cut out as the two occupants stepped out into their garage. Diaz could see between the gaps of the parked vehicles that they were reaching for weapons. He quickly took aim with his rifle on the hostage taker and fired, but the man pushed the woman towards them as he did so, the bullet hitting her in the arm.
The men inside the ship’s dock opened fire with fully automatic weapons as one of the woman’s friends rushed to her aid. Diaz and Davis laid down fire on the dock but were already outgunned by the four shooters, forcing them to take cover behind stacked shipping crates. Diaz jumped up from the cover to continue firing, but he could see that the hatches were drawing shut on the vessel as it lifted off from the dock. He tapped his intercom, putting him through to the Intrepid.
“This is Diaz, the suspects are escaping in a sabre class space runner called The Smoker, get the planetary guard to apprehend them before they get beyond the colony borders!”
“Affirmative, Sergeant,” replied Denver.
Diaz stepped out from the cover and towards the hostage he had rescued, but he felt his heart drop when he could see what had happened. The women held her friend in her arms, a young man who had been hit by a single bullet to the head in the crossfire. Her arm was also dripping with blood from Diaz’s own shot, but she was too caught up in grief to think about it.
“God damn it, Davis, get a med team here now!”
He rushed to the position of the two wounded civilians, their friends looking on in horror but unable to even take a step, they were speechless. They could all see that there was nothing he could do to help the man. The woman stared at him, as much in disgust as shock. It was certain that no matter the reasoning, she already blamed Diaz for the incident. Diaz dipped his head in disbelief, it was the first time a civilian had ever been killed in his presence, and it shocked him to the core.
“You killed him! What the hell were you doing!” shouted the woman.
* * *
Kaufman was sitting in the Captain’s chair on the bridge, watching their progress as their luxury vessel stormed across the red planet at four thousand feet. He was anxious to reach the Marsau Spaceport, desperately wanting any news. Barski moved up to his side and leant in to speak to him quietly.
“I need to speak to you pr
ivately,” he whispered.
Kaufman nodded and stood up, leading his old friend into his office. He quickly turned to him, not wanting to waste another moment before hearing what Max had to say.
“Go on.”
“I just received news that Diaz’s team identified and engaged the suspects.”
“And?”
“They got away, the Colony Defence Force is trying to track them now, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope, it isn’t really their job.”
“Jesus, this is not good!”
“That’s not all, Eric. There were two civilian casualties in the shootout at the docking bay, one wounded, one dead.”
Kaufman slumped into his chair and dropped his head into his hands. Things were going from bad to worse.
“What do you want me to do?” asked Max.
“When we reach the port I want all crew aboard immediately, we are setting off from this curved rock of a planet. I want an immediate report from all involved. I am going to have to notify Denton, he needs to hear it from us first.”
Barski nodded and left the room, he didn’t envy Kaufman for the job he had to do. Whatever mistakes were made in their line of work, Kaufman would take a large share of the blame.
* * *
The Intrepid put down in the same docking zone that the suspects had left. Kaufman could see from the bridge that the area before them had become a crime scene, with multiple local police and detectives already in place. Diaz and his squad stood at the side of the bay with the two cruisers they had kept at the station. Diaz was white. He looked like he was about to vomit.
The ramp to their ship lowered and Kaufman stepped down onto the deck, followed by Barski, Nowak and Lin. Diaz’s team were in a terrible state, hanging their heads in shame and with their morale at an all time low. Kaufman stepped across the open platform. The young man’s body was still laid out lifelessly on the cold floor where it had been left from the gunfight. A pool of blood surrounded him and detectives were taking photographs and other data from the scene. As they approached the squad, Diaz lifted his head, his face distraught and his eyes close to tears.
“I am so sorry, Sir.” he said.
“Sergeant Diaz, by order of Commander Denton, you are relieved of your rank and position within the Interplanetary Bureau of Investigation. You are required to hand in your badge and your gun, and report to Marsau Docking Bay 93 for immediate return to Earth.”
Diaz was still white with shock with the extra strain more than he could digest at that time. He simply nodded in response.
“Eric, what the hell is going on?” asked Barski.
“I am sorry, Diaz, this is not my decision. When you joined this unit you were told the risk involved and the pressure to succeed. Not being able to capture well-armed criminals when significantly outnumbered and outgunned could be excused, but your actions have led to the death of a civilian.”
“This is bullshit!” said Lin.
“No, Sergeant, this is the price of failure. This is not a game, we are responsible for stopping some of the most vicious and hardened criminals our generation has ever known. Diaz, your gun and badge.”
The stricken man slowly pulled out his pistol from under his jacket, and badge from around his neck and handed them to Kaufman. Eric hated what he had to do, but there were no choices left. He watched as Diaz turned and walked away as instructed, the slow and painful walk of a broken man.
“You realise you have just condemned him for life? He will never work as a cop again, I wouldn’t be surprised if he takes his own life!” shouted Lin.
“I am sorry, Sergeant, I really am, but it was his call and his screw up. When the time comes, we all have to take responsibility for our own actions.”
Kaufman turned to Sergeant Nowak. He held out Diaz’s badge to the old cop.
“As much as I wanted the job, not under these circumstances,” said Nowak.
“Take it or leave it, Sergeant. You need the job, I need you, what’s it gonna be?”
Nowak slowly reached out and took the badge, the metal was still warm from resting against Diaz’s body, and it sent an uneasy tingling down his spine. Seeing another cop be burnt was never a nice thing, and certainly not when it was a man they had all come to like and respect.
“Life goes on, Sergeant, from now on you have command of Diaz’s team, let’s load up and move out!”
But before they could, a uniformed cop from the City of the New Paris Police Force approached them.
“Sir, I am sorry but I cannot let you leave. Your team has been involved in several incidents today, you will need to await interview by our detectives.”
Kaufman could feel the anger brewing in his body. He had just had to fire a friend, and now a snivelling newbie was trying to exert his control. He was moments from punching the police officer when common sense prevailed. He remembered being that man, that officer.
“Officer... Mendes. As members of the IBI, we go where we please whenever we want, as authorised by the President of the colonies. If you wish to detain us then you will have to put your request through Senator Wilks.”
“Sir, I’m just doing my job.”
“I know, and so are we. There is nothing more we can do to help your investigation, but by letting us leave you can help ours.”
The young man was clearly uneasy, but neither was he willing to stand up to authority when he was so new to the force himself.
“Any complaints about this at your precinct, you put them through to me, Lieutenant Kaufman, you hear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
The officer stepped aside and let them climb aboard the Intrepid. Within minutes they were lifting off from the spaceport with priority clearance. Kaufman had never been eager to travel to Mars, and every doubt he had previously felt had been confirmed, he never wanted to see the barren red planet again.
Chapter 7
“Kaufman?” asked Denton.
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’ll need a replacement for Diaz, what do you intend to do about it?”
“Already handled, Sir, I have recruited a capable and trustworthy member of the Marsau Police Force to fill in.”
“Alright, make sure the logs are updated with his info.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Now, the information you provided on the ship called The Smoker. Our teams have been working around the clock to track it down.”
“Have you got anything concrete, Sir?”
“It was sold this morning to a black market ship dealer on Phobos, and was already in the process of have all identification removed.”
“Any leads on the sellers?”
“As it happens, yes. The Mars Defence Bureau has had a man working undercover there for a few months. He says they were heading for Saturn. They bought a bare bones merchant freighter called Hopper.”
“Ok, they’d be looking for a new ship, as they must know we are on to them. I suspect they’ll be bouncing around the satellites in the area to try and lose our trail, I’ll look into it, Sir.”
“Kaufman, I understand the pressure you’re under. I’m sorry you had to fire Diaz, but it was the only way. I know how difficult this mission is, but we need to make certain that everyone knows just how vitally important it is.”
“I understand, Sir.”
“We’ll keep following up leads here, see if we can get some contacts near Saturn before you arrive, Denton out.”
* * *
All agents that were not engaged in flight and navigation had been working in the viewing deck all day after Kaufman had passed on Denton’s information to them. The lavish panoramic deck had a huge table at its centre that they speculated had been used by the previous owners to plan and discuss their criminal enterprises.
Kaufman tapped his screen, flipping through colony information for the satellites of Saturn. Over twenty of the planet’s moons featured some human development, whether it was mining, industry or more populated zones.
“Talk about a needle i
n a hay stack,” said Barski.
“Possibly, I don’t believe for a minute that they are using the area as their base.”
“Why?”
“This gang is highly organised and very intelligent, they wouldn’t risk exposing their hideout so soon after such a near disaster.”
“So what do you think they’ll do?”
“They are smart, but they are also opportunists. I’d be willing to bet that they already had a plan hatched for the Saturn district. My guess is they’ll move forward with their plans, hoping to recoup some money that they lost as a result of our raid.”
“Ok, well that would at least narrow down the search. Titan is the economic centre of the region, housing most of the populace and all the major banks. Most of the other moons are used for industry and mining.”
“Sir, I think I might have an ID,” said Davis.
Kaufman leapt to his feet, his legs aching from sitting in his chair for most of the day. He strode around to the console the man was sitting at, staring in at the picture. He looked intently at the screen, it certainly met the description that both Davis and Diaz had given at the scene.
“Anton Maric? How sure are you about this?”
“I wouldn’t forget that face, Sir, I’m confident it’s him.”
“Who is he?”
“An ex-marine, Sir, he’s been out for nine years. He served minor offences before being caught attempting to rob a cash truck. He was offered a ten-year service in the marines or a ten-year prison sentence. I guess he’s honed his skills in that time.”
“So the Marines turned a hapless thug into a hardened and well trained criminal. Helpful,” said Kaufman.
“What position do you think he held in the gang?”
“He certainly had some authority. The other men worked at his command and he was cool and calculated the whole time,” said Davis.
“Excellent, good work, I want you to pursue further info on him, family, known addresses, assets, the lot. Also, get in touch with his former commanding officer, he may be of assistance.”
Starforce Ganymede Page 12