Blade of Vengeance (Max Mars Book 2)
Page 14
But Zane recovered quickly. He lunged toward Max like an offensive lineman. He tackled her into the engineering compartment, and the two crashed to the deck.
Zane straddled her. He coiled back his fist, then pummeled her in the face. He did the old ground and pound—his cinderblock of a fist wreaking havoc on her sculpted cheekbones.
Max finally shoved him off and sprang to her feet.
Zane squared off against her, and the two circled each other like boxers in a ring.
Zane threw a devastating right. Max dodged out of the way. She grabbed his wrist with her right hand, and used her left hand to wrench his elbow toward the ceiling. Then she kneed him again in the abdomen and drove her elbow into the back of his neck.
Zane crashed to the deck.
Max planted a swift kick into his rib cage. But Zane grabbed her foot and yanked it out from underneath her. Max smacked her back flat on the deck. Within seconds, Zane was towering over her. She kicked him away and scampered to her feet.
The two warriors squared off against each other, pushing deeper into the compartment. The rumble of the engines echoed off the bulkheads. The dual Hughes & Kessler X-560 ion thrusters were massive. Long tubular structures that delivered over 2.5 million foot-pounds of thrust each. Like a bolt of lightning, energy arced from the transformer to the ion induction terminal. It was a constant flow of energy—and not something you wanted to get anywhere near. Just looking at the blue arcing energy for more than a few moments would burn your retinas out. The ultraviolet light within the beam was enough to cause a hellacious sunburn after only 15 minutes of exposure.
Zane jabbed twice, then threw another punishing right. This time his fist connected with Max’s jaw. It wrenched her neck aside, splitting her luscious lips. Blood sprayed from her mouth, and her cheeks were taking on a lovely bluish green color.
Max staggered back and regained her footing. It was a helluva punch. She shook it off and tried to get back into the fight.
They were now in between the two massive engines. The roar was deafening.
Zane swung again.
Max dodged out of the way, and planted a fist into his rib cage. Zane buckled around her knuckles. Max cracked him with a solid right. It shattered his nose, and his head snapped back. Blood trickled down his lips. But it only seemed to anger him.
He looked through his brow at her, eyes on fire. Zane charged her, tackling her into the port-side engine. He slammed several kidney punches into her back. Then grabbed a handful of her raven black hair. He shoved her face toward the arcing energy.
Max struggled against him with all her might, but she didn't have much leverage. The heat from the beam was intense. Beads of sweat formed on her skin. Zane kept pushing her face closer and closer to oblivion. She clenched her teeth, and the veins in her neck bulged. Her entire body trembled as she resisted.
The crackling sound of the arcing energy was unnerving. It was like a giant bug zapper, and Max was about to get fried. The hairs on the back of her neck stood tall. The charged particles filled the air. The smell was sharp and clean. The light emanating from the beam was blinding. It had an almost unnatural blue hue to it.
To hell if Max was going to go out this way. She slammed an elbow into Zane’s gut, then spun around and cracked him in the jaw with her fist.
Zane tumbled back a step. But Max didn't let up. She kept pummeling him, forcing him back. Then she leapt into the air and kicked him in the chest with all of her might. It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch—pain stabbed through her femur. This was definitely exceeding her post surgical rehab protocol.
But it did the job.
Zane fell back into the energy beam of the starboard engine. It sent a lethal charge through his body, boiling his flesh from the bone. He screamed in agony for a few seconds before his entire body was vaporized. He crackled and popped, and his charred corpse finally flopped to the deck. It smoldered and sizzled, and the stench was horrendous.
Max breathed deep, then hobbled back into the corridor to find Riley.
43
Riley squeezed Max so tight that she almost couldn't breathe. “I knew you'd come.”
"I keep my promises." Max held onto Riley for dear life. She handed her a plasma pistol and escorted her into a nearby compartment. “You stay here while I take care of these creeps. Shoot anybody that steps through the hatch. You know how to use one of these?"
Riley nodded. “Dad taught me when I was just a kid."
“You’re still just a kid.”
She arched an eyebrow at Max. “An experience like this ages you."
Max couldn't help but chuckle at the sassy child. "I think this experience has aged all of us.”
Max sealed Riley inside the compartment, then stepped back into the corridor. She made her way back toward the engineering compartment and grabbed her rifle that lay on the deck in the corridor outside. Now it was time to pay a visit to Conrad Headley.
Max made her way through the ship, creeping through the corridors with her weapon in the firing position. The only people left were the crew of servants, and they weren't going to cause Max any problems.
Headley had barricaded himself into his recreational compartment. It didn't take much for Max to bypass the locking mechanism and storm in.
Grant’s face went pale. His eyes widened at the sight of Max. He forced a slick smile and tried to talk his way out of it. “Nothing personal. It was just business.“ Then he reached for his plasma pistol.
Max squeezed the trigger and a plasma bolt rocketed across the compartment, vaporizing Grant’s arm before he could lift the pistol from its holster.
Grant screamed in agony as what remained of his arm flopped to the deck. The blistering heat from the plasma projectile seared the arteries in his shoulder, keeping him from bleeding to death.
“Where’s Dylan?”
“Like I said, he's on special assignment,” he muttered in-between groans, clutching his stump of an arm.
"Bullshit. What have you done with him?” Max's eyes narrowed as she lined Grant’s skull up in her sights.
“Okay, okay. I can take you to him. He’s unharmed. We just needed him out of the way.”
Max fired a shot into Grant’s thigh. He crumpled to the ground, screaming again.
“I'll deal with you in a minute." She focused her attention on Headley.
He looked understandably uneasy. “You seem like an intelligent, capable woman. I could use someone like you on my team. I'm sure we can work something out between us.”
“Call off the assassination," Max demanded.
“It’s too late. The plan is already in motion.”
A live feed of the X50 Summit displayed on a nearby screen. President Stafford stood behind a lectern, giving his speech to the Council. Max watched out of the corner of her eyes with baited breath.
Suddenly, plasma bolts streaked in Stafford’s direction from the crowd. Several Secret Service agents tackled the president, forming a human shield with their bodies.
Max watched as more agents returned fire, killing the fleeing suspect in the crowd.
It was pure pandemonium. Summit attendees scattered in all directions, shrieking in terror. Reporters frantically spouted their own commentary to the visuals that were broadcast.
The Secret Service carried the president out of the chamber. There was no way of knowing if he was alive or dead. The reporters could only speculate on his condition.
“I want you to think this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," Hadley said. "Put that weapon down and come to work for me, and you will have more money than you could ever use in five lifetimes.”
There was no doubt about it, Max could use the money. Her pension wasn't enough to live on, and picking up merc work wasn't exactly the most fulfilling thing. But it didn't matter how much money Conrad Headley could offer. She wouldn't take a nickel from a guy like that.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Headley. Even you don't have enough money to buy me.” She put the reticle of the sig
ht square on his forehead and squeezed the trigger. The plasma bolt boiled his brain. His carcass flopped back into the lounge chair, staining the seat cushions crimson red.
She marched over to Grant and towered over the runt as he cowered in the fetal position, sniveling.
“Where is Dylan?”
“I'll take you to him, if you promise to let me live.”
“You're not in a position to negotiate.”
“If you kill me, you'll never find him.”
“Don't bet on it.” Max aimed her rifle at his head. “Last chance.”
Grant sneered at her in defiance. “You can't stop what's happening. We've infiltrated too many agencies. Too many things are in motion. Headley was just a source of funding. We will take over the Federation from within.”
“Not on my watch.” Max squeezed the trigger, vaporizing Grant's head. She kicked his corpse into the pool, and crimson blood clouded the water around his carcass. She was going to have to find Dylan the hard way.
Max weaved her way through the corridors back to where she had left Zero. But he was gone. She continued to search the ship and finally found him in the med facility. One of the ship’s servant crew had helped him get to the med pod and initiate the emergency protocol.
Zero had propped himself up in a recovery bed and was smoking a joint for pain management. Or, at least, that was his excuse. The compartment was thick with haze from the majuva herb. Zero’s eyes were red and glassy, and the air had a spicy sweet aroma. “You get everything sorted out?"
“Yeah," Max said, proud of her accomplishments. "But you're definitely unemployed now.”
“Ah, it was a crappy job anyway. And the boss sucked.”
Max chuckled. “How are you feeling?”
“Are you kidding me? I feel great. I'm all patched up, and I'll be right as rain in no time.”
“Take it easy. I think that's the majuva talking.”
“Take it easy? You're one to talk.”
Max chuckled again.
“Is Riley okay?"
Max smiled. “Yeah. She's fine.”
“Good.” He paused for a moment. "So where are we off to now?”
Max grinned. “I’ve got a special agent and a robot to find.”
44
A sleek SpaceStream ZX-7 Predator sat on the flight deck of the Solocci. It was a luxury interstellar transport—the crème de la crème of private travel. Room for a pilot, copilot, and four passengers. It had luxurious appointments and plush handcrafted leather seats. The passenger cabin was fitted with crisp ultra definition displays, a mini-bar, a galley, and a sleeper compartment. Conrad Headley’s initials were stitched into the headrests of the seats.
Max, Zero, and Riley climbed on board. Headley sure wasn't going to miss it. It was going to be their ticket back to Federation space.
Max made sure Riley was buckled into her safety harness, then slipped into the pilot’s seat and powered up the craft. The controls lit up, and the dash came alive. The system went through its preflight checks, and came back green.
It was possible that the Specters were still out there. Max had no way of knowing if the pilots were as corrupt as Grant, but it was a safe bet. It was hard to say how many agents within the FCIS were part of Headley's coup attempt. It seemed that he was only a small part in the insurgent movement to take control of the Federation.
Max was about to program jump coordinates when her mobile device buzzed. She slid the piece of smart glass from her pocket and looked at the display screen. The caller was unknown. She swiped the device and Dylan's face appeared on screen. He had dark circles under his eyes and abrasions on his face. There was a gash across the bridge of his nose that had scabbed over. His skin took on hues of green, purple, and a sickly yellow. He had been fed one too many knuckle sandwiches.
“You're looking well," Max said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Max wasn't faring much better, but she was happy to see Dylan alive. She stifled a smile, not wanting to look too elated.
“I'm still breathing, so that's a good thing. I need to warn you about Agent Grant.”
“No need. Already figured that one out on my own,” Max said. “What happened to you? Are you okay?"
“Yeah, I'm fine. I had a little run-in with some fellow agents. Long story, but I managed to escape. I've got a handful of agents that I know I can trust. We’re trying to root out the insurgents. There’s been an assassination attempt—”
“On the president. I know.” Max caught him up to speed on everything that had happened.
“Several Congressmen are also implicated. This was nothing short of a coup attempt. I’m going to need your help.”
Max grinned. “Of course you are. Where are you?”
“Epsilon Reticuli 5. ”
“I can be there in about nine hours. I've got to make a stop on Beta Nova 2 first. Riley’s aunt is going to look after her.”
“I'll see you soon. Stay safe out there. Oh, by the way, did you lose a robot?"
Max's eyes perked up. "Have you found Winston?”
“Looks like you've got another stop to make. He turned up at a used bot dealership on Polaris Minor 3. His serial number was in the Federation database since he was a material witness. We got notified as soon as he was scanned into their system. He's in one piece, but his memory is wiped.”
“I've got a backup."
“You’re going to have to buy him back.”
Max frowned. “Figures.”
“Call Big Rick. I'll send his info over to you. He's going to hold him until you get there.” Max cringed at the thought of how much she was going to have to pay. A shady used dealership would probably charge more than new. But Winston was worth it.
Max disconnected the call and engaged the thrusters. The Predator lifted from the flight deck and Max eased the craft out of the bay. She activated the slide-space drive before the Specters had a chance to attack—if the were even still lurking out there. The Predator vanished, leaving a small quantum distortion in its wake.
Riley was safe, Dylan was still alive, and soon, Winston would be back in Max’s possession. She was thankful for the small miracle. The Federation may have been on the verge of chaos, but with Max Mars on the case, it wasn't going to stay that way for long.
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Tripp Ellis Catalogue
Max Mars
The Orion Conspiracy
Blade of Vengeance
The Galactic Wars Series
Starship Scorpion
Starship Desolation
Starship Revenant
Starship Guardian
Starship Valor
Starship Insurgent
Starship Exodus
The Tarvaax War Series
Pursuit of Valor
Search for Honor
Author’s Note
Wow! The response to Max has been just fantastic! THANK YOU. It means I get to keep writing her. Max may not be the best role model in the galaxy, but I like her because she’s got guts, and heart, and is always trying to do the right thing. She fights authority and gets things done her own way. And she cares deeply about the people close to her.
As I’ve said before, Max helps me escape the challenge of the day. I hope she does the same for you. I’m fascinated by regenerative medicine, and I hope that one day we’ll have the types compounds and procedures that are fiction now. I think we are maybe a decade away from hip and knee replacements being a thing of
the past. Perhaps, in the future, a simple injection will regrow cartilage. Maybe precision robotic surgery will have a 99.99% success rate. Who knows? But it’s fun to think about.
In the author notes of book one, I mentioned that a pipe had burst in my house. Well, I tore out the sheet rock with the help of a buddy, remediated the damage, and we taped and floated the wall. But we found more damage, and tore out more sheet rock, so the saga continues. If only I had some automated robots to do the work, because it cuts into my writing time, lol. Hopefully, by the time I publish Max Mars 3, the house will be put back together. Stay tuned.
Again, thank you for allowing me to create this character. Now, it’s time for me to start writing the next Max Mars book. I hope to have it out in early September.
Wishing you the best,
Tripp
Connect With Me
I'm just a geek who loves sci-fi and horror. I was abducted by aliens and forced to travel the galaxy as the official biographer of an evil galactic ruler. This is where I learned to hone my craft. Fortunately, I escaped and made my way back to Earth, and now I write about my adventures. I hope you enjoy!
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