by Tripp Ellis
“Like I said, you'll get no trouble from me,” Max assured him.
He wasn't buying it. "Just for good measure, Ganz is going to escort you to your quarters. I hope you don't mind, but that's where you will stay until we reach the Summit.”
“Whatever you say, Boss.”
There was something unsettling about how cooperative Max was being. His eyes narrowed at her, trying to size her up.
“What’s the matter? You don't think little old me is really going to cause a bunch of big strong guys like yourselves a problem, do you?"
Rav smirked and exchanged a cocky glance with his comrades. “I think you'd be a fool to start trouble on my ship.”
“Do I look foolish to you?" Max asked playfully.
“You look like a smart-ass."
Max smiled. “I promise, I’ll be a good girl,” she said in a breathy, innocent voice. It was almost naughty.
Rav swallowed hard. His pulse quickened.
“How long do you anticipate travel time?" Max asked.
“22 hours, give or take.”
Rav watched her saunter away as Ganz escorted her through the corridors to a passenger compartment. Max had a nice saunter. Everyone was a little distracted by her assets. It was like somebody had turned up the heat.
“Did you see the way she was looking at me," Zero boasted. He was completely delusional.
Crash and Rav rolled their eyes.
“No, seriously. It was like, pow, instant connection.” The little man was quite enamored with himself. “I know you two don't have a lot of experience with women, but I'm telling you, she was into me.”
Rav and Crash had learned to ignore Zero’s nonsensical ramblings.
“Well, I’ve got bad news for you," Rav said. “Zane says the boss wants her killed as soon as she completes the job. So your budding little romance isn’t going to last very long."
Zero looked almost heartbroken. His body sagged, and he shuffled forward to the cockpit.
10
Ganz had his weapon aimed at Max. He wasn't taking any chances. He walked behind her, keeping a safe distance between them. Zane had warned him that she was an elite operator, and Ganz was going to take him at his word. "It's up here on the right."
Max stopped and pressed a button on the bulkhead. The hatch slid open. Her eyes surveyed the spartan compartment. There were two narrow racks, and a passageway with barely enough space to turn around in. There were a set of lockers and a small desk near the hatch. "Luxurious," she said dryly.
“This isn't a space-liner, honey."
"Thanks, Captain Obvious."
"Step inside," he said, motioning with the pistol.
"You know, I'm hungry. Maybe I can get something from the galley before I settle in?"
"Now!" He motioned her inside.
"Okay. Don't get excited." Max slipped into the compartment. She looked over her shoulder at Ganz hovering in the portal. "I'm going to get awfully lonely in here. Maybe you could keep me company?" Her sultry voice lingered in the air. She looked at Ganz with baby doll eyes. She arched her irresistible ass out just a little bit, trying to entice him.
"I'm not stupid, lady. You think I don't know what you’re doing?"
She looked at him with big innocent eyes. "What am I doing?"
Ganz chuckled. He pressed the button on the bulkhead and the hatch slammed shut.
Max's face twisted up. She couldn't believe her charms fell flat. She kicked the hatch in frustration. Her determined eyes scanned the compartment, looking for a way out. Time was running out. She had no intention of going through with the assassination. She needed to get out of the compartment, hijack the ship, and somehow find Riley. All within the next 22 hours. It seemed like an impossible task.
Max felt a quantum distortion ripple through the ship. The bulkheads bulged and distorted. Her stomach twisted in knots as the ship made the transition to slide-space.
Time was wasting.
There was an air vent on the forward bulkhead, but it was much too small to crawl through. She was in a berthing compartment, not a holding cell. There had to be some way to override the locking mechanism. Title 8, section 16.44.11 of the Intergalactic Passenger Code stated that all hatches must be equipped with a manual override to facilitate passenger egress in case of emergency. Max tried several times to open the hatch from the keypad, but it was non-responsive. Either the ship wasn't up to code, or the locking mechanism had been reprogrammed at some point in time.
Max found a screwdriver in a desk drawer and pried off the control panel. There was a jumble of wires attached to a printed circuit board. She made several attempts to rewire the device before the lock finally unlatched and the hatch slid open.
She poked her head into the corridor and scanned in all directions—the hallway was clear. She slipped out of the compartment, clutching the screwdriver like a knife. In her hands, it was a lethal weapon.
The drone of the engines oscillated in a hypnotic pulse. She could hear the muted echoes of the crew’s voices cascading through the passageways. She crept forward toward the cockpit. It wasn't going to be a fair fight—four guys with plasma weapons against one girl with a screwdriver? Max had been up against worse odds.
Footsteps clanked, filtering down from the deck above her. Judging by the sound of the heavy steps, she figured it was either Crash or Ganz. They weren’t light enough to be Zero’s or Rav’s.
Max dashed to the next ladder and climbed to the deck above. She poked her head through the portal, like a groundhog, and glanced around. She saw Ganz heading aft. She’d deal with him first.
Max climbed through the portal and scurried down the corridor behind him. He was listening to music on headphones. He had the volume so loud the music spilled out into the corridor, sounding thin and tinny. Ganz bobbed his head in rhythm with the beat, oblivious to the feisty brunette creeping up behind him.
Max could have just jammed the screwdriver into his neck and punctured his carotid artery. She could have stabbed the tool through his ear, destroying the base of his brain. But that would have been too easy.
Max decided she wanted to have a little fun with him. She shook her hair like something out of a shampoo commercial. The strands changed from brunette to blonde. It would certainly throw Ganz for a loop. She tapped him on the shoulder, and the big behemoth spun around. His face twisted up, perplexed. It took him a moment to recognize Max. The change in appearance, and the fact that she was out of her compartment, didn't compute right away. By the time he put it all together, Max's fist had smashed into his nose, and blood was dribbling down over his lips.
Pain split through his skull, and again Ganz was dazed.
Max planted a swift kick into his groin. The big guy doubled over. Max grabbed the back of his head and yanked it down as she kneed him in the face. Crimson blood sprayed out, speckling the deck and bulkheads.
Ganz stumbled back and crashed to the deck, out cold.
Max knelt beside him, snatching his plasma pistol. She tossed the screwdriver aside and dragged Ganz into a nearby compartment.
One down—three to go.
Crash turned the corner as Max stepped back into the hallway. He hesitated for a second, wondering who this blonde woman was. Then he put two and two together, a lot faster then Ganz did. He drew his pistol and sent a flurry of plasma bolts streaking down the corridor.
Max ducked back into the compartment as they whizzed by, sizzling through the air. The bolts slammed into the bulkheads, showering sparks. Smoke wafted from the pitted metal.
Max angled her pistol down the corridor and returned fire. She squeezed off a few rounds, then ducked for cover. Plasma bolts impacted the bulkhead a few inches away.
She poked her weapon around the portal and fired down the corridor again.
Crash ducked behind a support brace as Max pelted rounds in his direction.
More plasma bolts streaked at Max from the opposite end of the corridor—Rav blasted away, trying to flank her.
/> Max angled her weapon around and unleashed a torrent of fury. This time she was dead on accurate. Rav’s head vaporized in a crimson mist. His body crumpled to the deck, oozing blood from the arteries in his neck.
Another bolt blazed inches from Max's face. The scorching heat felt like a bad sunburn. She recoiled, then took aim at Crash. She was about to send a torrent of plasma bolts in his direction when Ganz staggered to his feet and tackled her. He slammed her to the deck, like a linebacker taking out his frustration on the quarterback. It was time for a little payback.
Max’s pistol skidded across the deck.
Ganz straddled Max and did the old ground and pound. His meaty fists pummeled her perfect face. Brutal knuckles smashed into her sculpted cheekbones. Each hit caused double damage—the initial impact, plus the crack of the back of her head slamming into the deck.
Max's nose fractured. It felt like someone had jammed a kitchen knife between her eyes. Black and blue circles instantly formed.
Now she was pissed.
She managed to kick Ganz off her. His meaty body rolled aside, and Max sprang toward the pistol resting on the deck.
But Crash was there to greet her—the barrel of his plasma pistol staring her in the face. She could smell the sharp scent of ionized particles emitted from the hot barrel. Smoke was still wafting from the weapon.
Crash’s eyes blazed with fire. His face contorted in a wicked rage. Max figured this might just be it—the end of her existence. Crash had murder in his eyes.
11
It took everything he had not to squeeze the trigger. It was easy to see Crash wanted revenge for Rav’s death. But he couldn't kill Max until the mission was complete. If he did, he’d have to face the wrath of Zane’s boss. And that wasn't a pleasant thought.
“On your feet,” Crash grumbled. “Slowly. Keep your hands in the air.”
Max complied.
Ganz staggered to his feet and wiped the blood from his face. He wasn't a happy camper either. He slammed a fist into Max's back, kidney punching her for good measure. She arched back, and her knees went weak for a moment. But she remained standing. She gritted her teeth and stood tall, pushing the pain into that special place where it really didn't matter at all. Max had been designed to handle an immense amount of pain. But it wasn't something she enjoyed.
“So much for not causing trouble," Crash muttered.
“I'm just getting started,” Max replied.
Crash was standing a little too close. The pistol was in reach, aimed right at Max’s head. In a flash, Max shifted her head to the side, removing it as a target. She lunged for the barrel, twisted the weapon around, and grabbed Crash’s wrist simultaneously, stripping the weapon.
Max blasted two shots into Crash. The scorching bolts blazed a path through his flesh. His body smashed the deck. Max spun around, taking aim at Ganz. “Where is she?”
Ganz backed off and put his hands in the air. He said nothing.
“Riley! Where have they taken her?”
"I don't know."
She fired a shot that blazed past his ear.
Ganz winced, cowering away from the bolt. “I told you, I don't know. We're just taking you from one place to another.”
“Right. You're completely innocent. You’re not complicit in any of this. You're just doing a job.” Max's eyes burned into him.
“And it pays damn well. Don't get all self-righteous on me. We all do what we've got to do to survive.”
“Who do you work for?"
“I've only met Zane. I don’t know who the big boss is.”
“Don't bullshit me.”
Ganz’s eyes flicked down the corridor as he saw Zero enter the passageway.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Zero yelled.
Max started to look, but caught herself. It was a momentary distraction that gave Ganz a chance to lunge for the pistol. He grabbed the barrel and pushed it aside. His big cinderblock fist cracked Max in the jaw. It snapped her head to the side. Blood sprayed from her plush lips.
The weapon discharged into the bulkhead, showering glowing sparks.
Ganz stripped the weapon and planted another elbow into the bridge of Max's already shattered nose. She staggered back, dazed as pain stabbed through her face. Her vision doubled for an instant. She shook it off only to see a smiling Ganz aiming the weapon at her.
“Playtime is over.”
“I don't think so.” Max held up the pistol’s magazine. She had managed to hit the mag release button during their struggle, dropping the magazine of plasma projectiles into her palm as Ganz stripped the weapon. He had one shot left in the chamber.
Ganz’s face tensed. “One shot is all I need."
But with Max, he probably needed more than that. A recent study of officer involved shootings among Federation police determined that the hit rate was less than 50% when a single officer was involved. It dropped to less than 25% when two officers were involved. And when multiple officers fired at a suspect, the hit rate dropped to 7%.
Max would take those odds.
She moved with blinding speed, stepping aside in a blur. In a fluid movement she scooped the screwdriver from the deck.
Ganz fired his one and only plasma projectile.
It streaked past Max, rocketing down the corridor. The bolt slammed into the bulkhead near Zero.
Max twirled around and stabbed the screwdriver into Ganz’s neck. Crimson blood spurted from his carotid artery. His eyes went wide, then rolled back into his head as the life-force drained from his body. His massive frame slapped the deck, blood pooling around the corpse.
Max snatched the pistol from his grip as he fell and slammed the magazine into the mag well. She spun around to face Zero.
His eyes bulged, and he raised his hands in surrender. “Don't shoot. I just fly the ship. That's all.”
Max advanced down the corridor, keeping the weapon aimed at the little man.
Zero hovered in the corridor for a moment, then took off running back the way he came.
“Don't make me chase you!” Max yelled. “It's a small ship. I will find you. But by that time I'm going to be angry. I'm just mildly irritated right now, and you’ve seen the damage that I can do when irritated.”
There was a long silence.
“Okay. Don’t shoot. I’m coming out.” Zero cautiously stepped back into the corridor, hands in the air.
Max advanced down the corridor, keeping the weapon aimed at Zero. “Where have they taken Riley?”
“Who’s Riley?” he asked innocently.
Max's eyes narrowed at him. “Do you really want to end up like your friends?”
“I swear, I don’t know anything.”
“Then you’re no good to me.” Max gripped the trigger and took aim.
“Wait! You need someone to fly this ship.”
“No, I don’t. I'm perfectly capable of flying this thing myself."
Zero swallowed hard. “I don't know where they’ve taken her…”
Max’s face tensed.
“But I know who does,” he quickly added.
12
Zero dropped the SpaceHawk out of slide-space and programed in jump coordinates for Beta Arcturus 9.
“Why Beta Arcturus?” Max asked.
“We can catch Skinner there.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Trust me.”
“That's not something I'm inclined to do.”
“At this point, what choice do you have?"
Max arched a wary eyebrow at him.
“Besides, I’m not about to screw you over. That didn't work out so well for the rest of the guys."
“Then you’ve got more sense than the rest of them."
“I'm better looking too,” he said with a wink. “Notwithstanding, women seem to dig me for my mind. Just saying.”
Max rolled her eyes. She'd seen toads that were better looking.
Zero pulled out a pre-rolled joint. “You smoke?"
“You’ve lo
st your mind if you think I'm going to ingest anything you give me.”
“Suit yourself.” He ran the joint underneath his nostrils and sniffed, taking in the fruity aroma. “Grade A Majuva herb. All the way from Seku Vega. Bubblegum Kush.” He dangled the joint in front of her. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Zero fired up the jay. The cherry glowed red, and the dry herb crackled as he inhaled, filling his lungs with the luscious smoke. He breathed out a blue cloud that filled the cockpit. Zero leaned back in his chair and relaxed. His eyes grew puffy and red, becoming narrow slits. “That's really good shit," he choked out, coughing spastically.
“I’m sure.”
“It will take the edge off that face of yours.”
Max scowled at him. “Excuse me?”
“That's got to hurt,” Zero said. “I've seen broken noses before, and that one's a doozy. You're going to be black and blue for days. A little bit of this will make you forget about your pain.”
“I’ve already forgotten about it.” Max may have been able to compartmentalize her injuries, but they were still uncomfortable. “You got any liquor around here?”
“Check the galley.” Zero hit the jay again.
In his current condition, Zero wasn’t a threat. He'd be lucky if he could move from the pilot’s seat in the next few hours. A serious case of couch-lock set in.
Max strolled to the galley and fumbled through the cabinets until she found a suitable whiskey. It wasn’t Bulvacci, but it would have to do. She poured herself a glass and looked at her face in the mirror. A slight frown creased on her lips, but even that hurt. Her advanced regenerative capabilities would let her heal in a few days, but in the meantime she looked like hell. And she wasn't particularly happy about it.
She slugged a shot of whiskey down, then poured another glass. This was a little harsher than Bulvacci, but after a few it wouldn’t matter so much, and the end result would be the same.
Max guzzled the last shot down, then put the bottle back into the cabinet. She took a deep breath and decided it was time to get to work. The corridors were littered with bodies, and they were going to start to stink up the place if she didn't do something about them. Besides, undocumented corpses were never a good thing to have around in case of a random customs inspection.